,a ,,treatise ,,of ,,human ,,nature ,by ,david ,hume ,,contents ,,volume ,i ,,introduction ,,by ,,the ,,author4 ,,book ,i ,,of ,,the ,,understanding ,,part ,i ,,of ,,ideas1 ,,their ,,origin1 ,,composition1 ,,connexion1 ,,abstraction1 ,,etc4 ,,sect4 ,i ,,of ,,the ,,origin ,,of ,,our ,,ideas4 ,,sect4 ,,ii4 ,,division ,,of ,,the ,,subject4 ,,sect4 ,,iii4 ,,of ,,the ,,ideas ,,of ,,the ,,memory ,,and ,,imagination4 ,,sect4 ,,iv4 ,,of ,,the ,,connection ,,or ,,association ,,of ,,ideas4 ,,sect4 ,v4 ,,of ,,relations4 ,,sect4 ,,vi4 ,,of ,,modes ,,and ,,substances ,,sect4 ,,vii4 ,,of ,,abstract ,,ideas4 ,,part ,,ii4 ,,of ,,the ,,ideas ,,of ,,space ,,and ,,time4 ,,sect4 ,i4 ,,of ,,the ,,infinite ,,divisibility ,,of ,,our ,,ideas ,,of ,,space ,,and ,,time4 ,,sect4 ,,ii4 ,,of ,,the ,,infinite ,,divisibility ,,of ,,space ,,and ,,time4 ,,sect4 ,,iii4 ,,of ,,the ,,other ,,qualities ,,of ,,our ,,idea ,,of ,,space ,,and ,,time4 ,,sect4 ,,iv4 ,,objections ,,answered4 ,,sect4 ,v4 ,,the ,,same ,,subject ,,continued4 ,,sect4 ,,vi4 ,,of ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,existence1 ,,and ,,of ,,external ,,existence4 ,,part ,,iii4 ,,of ,,knowledge ,,and ,,probability4 ,,sect4 ,i4 ,,of ,,knowledge4 ,,sect4 ,,ii4 ,,of ,,probability1 ,,and ,,of ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,cause ,,and ,,effect4 ,,sect4 ,,iii4 ,,why ,a ,,cause ,,is ,,always ,,necessary4 ,,sect4 ,,iv4 ,,of ,,the ,,component ,,parts ,,of ,,our ,,reasonings ,,concerning ,,cause ,,and ,,effect4 ,,sect4 ,v4 ,,of ,,the ,,impressions ,,of ,,the ,,senses ,,and ,,memory4 ,,sect4 ,,vi4 ,,of ,,the ,,inference ,,from ,,the ,,impression ,,to ,,the ,,idea4 ,,sect4 ,,vii4 ,,of ,,the ,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,idea ,,or ,,belief4 ,,sect4 ,,viii4 ,,of ,,the ,,causes ,,of ,,belief4 ,,sect4 ,,ix4 ,,of ,,the ,,effects ,,of ,,other ,,relations ,,and ,,other ,,habits4 ,,sect4 ,x4 ,,of ,,the ,,influence ,,of ,,belief4 ,,sect4 ,,xi4 ,,of ,,the ,,probability ,,of ,,chances4 ,,sect4 ,,xii4 ,,of ,,the ,,probability ,,of ,,causes4 ,,sect4 ,,xiii4 ,,of ,,unphilosophical ,,probability4 ,,sect4 ,,xiv4 ,,of ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,necessary ,,connection4 ,,sect4 ,,xv4 ,,rules ,,by ,,which ,,to ,,judge ,,of ,,causes ,,and ,,effects4 ,,sect4 ,,xvi ,,of ,,the ,,reason ,,of ,,animals ,,part ,,iv4 ,,of ,,the ,,sceptical ,,and ,,other ,,systems ,,of ,,philosophy4 ,,sect4 ,i4 ,,of ,,scepticism ,,with ,,regard ,,to ,,reason4 ,,sect4 ,,ii4 ,,of ,,scepticism ,,with ,,regard ,,to ,,the ,,senses4 ,,sect4 ,,iii4 ,,of ,,the ,,antient ,,philosophy4 ,,sect4 ,,iv4 ,,of ,,the ,,modern ,,philosophy4 ,,sect4 ,v4 ,,of ,,the ,,immateriality ,,of ,,the ,,soul4 ,,sect4 ,,vi4 ,,of ,,personal ,,identity ,,sect4 ,,vii4 ,,conclusion ,,of ,,this ,,book4 ,,volume ,,ii ,,book ,,ii ,,of ,,the ,,passions ,,part ,i ,,of ,,pride ,,and ,,humility ,,sect4 ,i ,,division ,,of ,,the ,,subject ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,of ,,pride ,,and ,,humility1 ,,their ,,objects ,,and ,,causes ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,whence ,,these ,,objects ,,and ,,causes ,,are ,,derived ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,the ,,relations ,,of ,,impressions ,,and ,,ideas ,,sect4 ,v ,,of ,,the ,,influence ,,of ,,these ,,relations ,,on ,,pride ,,and ,,humility ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,limitations ,,of ,,this ,,system ,,sect4 ,,vii ,,of ,,vice ,,and ,,virtue ,,sect4 ,,viii ,,of ,,beauty ,,and ,,deformity ,,sect4 ,,ix ,,of ,,external ,,advantages ,,and ,,disadvantages ,,sect4 ,x ,,of ,,property ,,and ,,riches ,,sect4 ,,xi ,,of ,,the ,,love ,,of ,,fame ,,sect4 ,,xii ,,of ,,the ,,pride ,,and ,,humility ,,of ,,animals ,,part ,,ii ,,of ,,love ,,and ,,hatred ,,sect4 ,i ,,of ,,the ,,object ,,and ,,causes ,,of ,,love ,,and ,,hatred ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,experiments ,,to ,,confirm ,,this ,,system ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,difficulties ,,solved ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,the ,,love ,,of ,,relations ,,sect4 ,v ,,of ,,our ,,esteem ,,for ,,the ,,rich ,,and ,,powerful ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,of ,,benevolence ,,and ,,anger ,,sect4 ,,vii ,,of ,,compassion ,,sect4 ,,viii ,,of ,,malice ,,and ,,envy ,,sect4 ,,ix ,,of ,,the ,,mixture ,,of ,,benevolence ,,and ,,anger ,,with ,,compassion ,,and ,,malice ,,sect4 ,x ,,of ,,respect ,,and ,,contempt ,,sect4 ,,xi ,,of ,,the ,,amorous ,,passion1 ,,or ,,love ,,betwixt ,,the ,,sexes ,,sect4 ,,xii ,,of ,,the ,,love ,,and ,,hatred ,,of ,,animals ,,part ,,iii ,,of ,,the ,,will ,,and ,,direct ,,passions ,,sect4 ,i ,,of ,,liberty ,,and ,,necessity ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,the ,,same ,,subject ,,continued ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,of ,,the ,,influencing ,,motives ,,of ,,the ,,will ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,the ,,causes ,,of ,,the ,,violent ,,passions ,,sect4 ,v ,,of ,,the ,,effects ,,of ,,custom ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,of ,,the ,,influence ,,of ,,the ,,imagination ,,on ,,the ,,passions ,,sect4 ,,vii ,,of ,,contiguity ,,and ,,distance ,,in ,,space ,,and ,,time ,,sect4 ,,viii ,,the ,,same ,,subject ,,continued ,,sect4 ,,ix ,,of ,,the ,,direct ,,passions ,,sect4 ,x ,,of ,,curiosity1 ,,or ,,the ,,love ,,of ,,truth ,,book ,,iii ,,of ,,morals ,,part ,i ,,of ,,virtue ,,and ,,vice ,,in ,,general ,,sect4 ,i ,,moral ,,distinctions ,,not ,,derived ,,from ,,reason ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,moral ,,distinctions ,,derived ,,from ,a ,,moral ,,sense ,,part ,,ii ,,of ,,justice ,,and ,,injustice ,,sect4 ,i ,,justice1 ,,whether ,a ,,natural ,,or ,,artificial ,,virtue8 ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,of ,,the ,,origin ,,of ,,justice ,,and ,,property ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,of ,,the ,,rules ,,which ,,determine ,,property ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,the ,,transference ,,of ,,property ,,by ,,consent ,,sect4 ,v ,,of ,,the ,,obligation ,,of ,,promises ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,some ,,farther ,,reflections ,,concerning ,,justice ,,and ,,injustice ,,sect4 ,,vii ,,of ,,the ,,origin ,,of ,,government ,,sect4 ,,viii ,,of ,,the ,,source ,,of ,,allegiance ,,sect4 ,,ix ,,of ,,the ,,measures ,,of ,,allegiance ,,sect4 ,x ,,of ,,the ,,objects ,,of ,,allegiance ,,sect4 ,,xi ,,of ,,the ,,laws ,,of ,,nations ,,sect4 ,,xii ,,of ,,chastity ,,and ,,modesty ,,part ,,iii ,,of ,,the ,,other ,,virtues ,,and ,,vices ,,sect4 ,i ,,of ,,the ,,origin ,,of ,,the ,,natural ,,virtues ,,and ,,vices ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,of ,,greatness ,,of ,,mind ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,of ,,goodness ,,and ,,benevolence ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,natural ,,abilities ,,sect4 ,v ,,some ,,farther ,,reflections ,,concerning ,,the ,,natural ,,virtues ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,conclusion ,,of ,,this ,,book ,,appendix ,,to ,,the ,,treatise ,,of ,,human ,,nature 99 99 99 99 99 ,,vol4 ,i ,,of ,,the ,,understanding4 ,,advertisement4 ,my design in the present work is sufficiently explained in the ,introduction4 ,the reader must only observe1 that all the subjects ,i have there planned out to myself1 are not treated of in these two volumes4 ,the subjects of the ,understanding and ,passions make a compleat chain of reasoning by themselves2 and ,i was willing to take advantage of this natural division1 in order to try the taste of the public4 ,if ,i have the good fortune to meet with success1 ,i shall proceed to the examination of ,morals1 ,politics1 and ,criticism2 which will compleat this ,treatise of ,human ,nature4 ,the approbation of the public ,i consider as the greatest reward of my labours2 but am determined to regard its judgment1 whatever it be1 as my best instruction4 ,,introduction4 ,nothing is more usual and more natural for those1 who pretend to discover anything new to the world in philosophy and the sciences1 than to insinuate the praises of their own systems1 by decrying all those1 which have been advanced before them4 ,and indeed were they content with lamenting that ignorance1 which we still lie under in the most important questions1 that can come before the tribunal of human reason1 there are few1 who have an acquaintance with the sciences1 that would not readily agree with them4 ,it is easy for one of judgment and learning1 to perceive the weak foundation even of those systems1 which have obtained the greatest credit1 and have carried their pretensions highest to accurate and profound reasoning4 ,principles taken upon trust1 consequences lamely deduced from them1 want of coherence in the parts1 and of evidence in the whole1 these are every where to be met with in the systems of the most eminent philosophers1 and seem to have drawn disgrace upon philosophy itself4 ,nor is there required such profound knowledge to discover the present imperfect condition of the sciences1 but even the rabble without doors may1 judge from the noise and clamour1 which they hear1 that all goes not well within4 ,there is nothing which is not the subject of debate1 and in which men of learning are not of contrary opinions4 ,the most trivial question escapes not our controversy1 and in the most momentous we are not able to give any certain decision4 ,disputes are multiplied1 as if every thing was uncertain2 and these disputes are managed with the greatest warmth1 as if every thing was certain4 ,amidst all this bustle it is not reason1 which carries the prize1 but eloquence2 and no man needs ever despair of gaining proselytes to the most extravagant hypothesis1 who has art enough to represent it in any favourable colours4 ,the victory is not gained by the men at arms1 who manage the pike and the sword2 but by the trumpeters1 drummers1 and musicians of the army4 ,from hence in my opinion arises that common prejudice against metaphysical reasonings of all kinds1 even amongst those1 who profess themselves scholars1 and have a just value for every other part of literature4 ,by metaphysical reasonings1 they do not understand those on any particular branch of science1 but every kind of argument1 which is any way abstruse1 and requires some attention to be comprehended4 ,we have so often lost our labour in such researches1 that we commonly reject them without hesitation1 and resolve1 if we must for ever be a prey to errors and delusions1 that they shall at least be natural and entertaining4 ,and indeed nothing but the most determined scepticism1 along with a great degree of indolence1 can justify this aversion to metaphysics4 ,for if truth be at all within the reach of human capacity1 it is certain it must lie very deep and abstruse3 and to hope we shall arrive at it without pains1 while the greatest geniuses have failed with the utmost pains1 must certainly be esteemed sufficiently vain and presumptuous4 ,i pretend to no such advantage in the philosophy ,i am going to unfold1 and would esteem it a strong presumption against it1 were it so very easy and obvious4 ,it is evident1 that all the sciences have a relation1 greater or less1 to human nature3 and that however wide any of them may seem to run from it1 they still return back by one passage or another4 ,even4 ,mathematics1 ,natural ,philosophy1 and ,natural ,religion1 are in some measure dependent on the science of ,,man2 since they lie under the cognizance of men1 and are judged of by their powers and faculties4 ,it is impossible to tell what changes and improvements we might make in these sciences were we thoroughly acquainted with the extent and force of human understanding1 and could explain the nature of the ideas we employ1 and of the operations we perform in our reasonings4 ,and these improvements are the more to be hoped for in natural religion1 as it is not content with instructing us in the nature of superior powers1 but carries its views farther1 to their disposition towards us1 and our duties towards them2 and consequently we ourselves are not only the beings1 that reason1 but also one of the objects1 concerning which we reason4 ,if therefore the sciences of ,mathematics1 ,natural ,philosophy1 and ,natural ,religion1 have such a dependence on the knowledge of man1 what may be expected in the other sciences1 whose connexion with human nature is more close and intimate8 ,the sole end of logic is to explain the principles and operations of our reasoning faculty1 and the nature of our ideas3 morals and criticism regard our tastes and sentiments3 and politics consider men as united in society1 and dependent on each other4 ,in these four sciences of ,logic1 ,morals1 ,criticism1 and ,politics1 is comprehended almost everything1 which it can any way import us to be acquainted with1 or which can tend either to the improvement or ornament of the human mind4 ,here then is the only expedient1 from which we can hope for success in our philosophical researches1 to leave the tedious lingering method1 which we have hitherto followed1 and instead of taking now and then a castle or village on the frontier1 to march up directly to the capital or center of these sciences1 to human nature itself2 which being once masters of1 we may every where else hope for an easy victory4 ,from this station we may extend our conquests over all those sciences1 which more intimately concern human life1 and may afterwards proceed at leisure to discover more fully those1 which are the objects of pore curiosity4 ,there is no question of importance1 whose decision is not comprised in the science of man2 and there is none1 which can be decided with any certainty1 before we become acquainted with that science4 ,in pretending1 therefore1 to explain the principles of human nature1 we in effect propose a compleat system of the sciences1 built on a foundation almost entirely new1 and the only one upon which they can stand with any security4 ,and as the science of man is the-only solid foundation for the other sciences1 so the only solid foundation we can give to this science itself must be laid on experience and observation4 ,it is no astonishing reflection to consider1 that the application of experimental philosophy to moral subjects should come after that to natural at the distance of above a whole century2 since we find in fact1 that there was about the same interval betwixt the origins of these sciences2 and that reckoning from ,,thales to ,,socrates1 the space of time is nearly equal to that betwixt1 my ,lord ,bacon and some late philosophers in ,england1#a who have begun to put the science of man on a new footing1 and have engaged the attention1 and excited the curiosity of the public4 ,so true it is1 that however other nations may rival us in poetry1 and excel us in some other agreeable arts1 the improvements in reason and philosophy can only be owing to a land of toleration and of liberty4 #a ,mr4 ,locke1 my ,lord ,shaftesbury1 ,dr4 ,mandeville1 ,mr4 ,hutchinson1 ,dr4 ,butler1 etc4 ,nor ought we to think1 that this latter improvement in the science of man will do less honour to our native country than the former in natural philosophy1 but ought rather to esteem it a greater glory1 upon account of the greater importance of that science1 as well as the necessity it lay under of such a reformation4 ,for to me it seems evident1 that the essence of the mind being equally unknown to us with that of external bodies1 it must be equally impossible to form any notion of its powers and qualities otherwise than from careful and exact experiments1 and the observation of those particular effects1 which result from its different circumstances and situations4 ,and though we must endeavour to render all our principles as universal as possible1 by tracing up our experiments to the utmost1 and explaining all effects from the simplest and fewest causes1 it is still certain we cannot go beyond experience2 and any hypothesis1 that pretends to discover the ultimate original qualities of human nature1 ought at first to be rejected as presumptuous and chimerical4 ,i do not think a philosopher1 who would apply himself so earnestly to the explaining the ultimate principles of the soul1 would show himself a great master in that very science of human nature1 which he pretends to explain1 or very knowing in what is naturally satisfactory to the mind of man4 ,for nothing is more certain1 than that despair has almost the same effect upon us with enjoyment1 and that we are no sooner acquainted with the impossibility of satisfying any desire1 than the desire itself vanishes4 ,when we see1 that we have arrived at the utmost extent of human reason1 we sit down contented1 though we be perfectly satisfied in the main of our ignorance1 and perceive that we can give no reason for our most general and most refined principles1 beside our experience of their reality2 which is the reason of the mere vulgar1 and what it required no study at first to have discovered for the most particular and most extraordinary phnomenon4 ,and as this impossibility of making any farther progress is enough to satisfy the reader1 so the writer may derive a more delicate satisfaction from the free confession of his ignorance1 and from his prudence in avoiding that error1 into which so many have fallen1 of imposing their conjectures and hypotheses on the world for the most certain principles4 ,when this mutual contentment and satisfaction can be obtained betwixt the master and scholar1 ,i know not what more we can require of our philosophy4 ,but if this impossibility of explaining ultimate principles should be esteemed a defect in the science of man1 ,i will venture to affirm1 that it is a defect common to it with all the sciences1 and all the arts1 in which we can employ ourselves1 whether they be such as are cultivated in the schools of the philosophers1 or practised in the shops of the meanest artizans4 ,none of them can go beyond experience1 or establish any principles which are not founded on that authority4 ,moral philosophy has1 indeed1 this peculiar disadvantage1 which is not found in natural1 that in collecting its experiments1 it cannot make them purposely1 with premeditation1 and after such a manner as to satisfy itself concerning every particular difficulty which may be4 ,when ,i am at a loss to know the effects of one body upon another in any situation1 ,i need only put them in that situation1 and observe what results from it4 ,but should ,i endeavour to clear up after the same manner any doubt in moral philosophy1 by placing myself in the same case with that which ,i consider1 it is evident this reflection and premeditation would so disturb the operation of my natural principles1 as must render it impossible to form any just conclusion from the phenomenon4 ,we must therefore glean up our experiments in this science from a cautious observation of human life1 and take them as they appear in the common course of the world1 by men's behaviour in company1 in affairs1 and in their pleasures4 ,where experiments of this kind are judiciously collected and compared1 we may hope to establish on them a science which will not be inferior in certainty1 and will be much superior in utility to any other of human comprehension4 ,,book ,i4 ,,of ,,the ,,understanding ,,part ,i4 ,,of ,,ideas1 ,,their ,,origin1 ,,composition1 ,,connexion1 ,,abstraction1 ,,etc4 ,,sect4 ,i4 ,,of ,,the ,,origin ,,of ,,our ,,ideas4 ,all the perceptions of the human mind resolve themselves into two distinct kinds1 which ,i shall call ,,impressions and ,,ideas4 ,the difference betwixt these consists in the degrees of force and liveliness1 with which they strike upon the mind1 and make their way into our thought or consciousness4 ,those perceptions1 which enter with most force and violence1 we may name impressions3 and under this name ,i comprehend all our sensations1 passions and emotions1 as they make their first appearance in the soul4 ,by ideas ,i mean the faint images of these in thinking and reasoning2 such as1 for instance1 are all the perceptions excited by the present discourse1 excepting only those which arise from the sight and touch1 and excepting the immediate pleasure or uneasiness it may occasion4 ,i believe it will not be very necessary to employ many words in explaining this distinction4 ,every one of himself will readily perceive the difference betwixt feeling and thinking4 ,the common degrees of these are easily distinguished2 though it is not impossible but in particular instances they may very nearly approach to each other4 ,thus in sleep1 in a fever1 in madness1 or in any very violent emotions of soul1 our ideas may approach to our impressions1 ,as on the other hand it sometimes happens1 that our impressions are so faint and low1 that we cannot distinguish them from our ideas4 ,but notwithstanding this near resemblance in a few instances1 they are in general so very different1 that no-one can make a scruple to rank them under distinct heads1 and assign to each a peculiar name to mark the difference4#a #a ,i here make use of these terms1 impression and idea1 in a sense different from what is usual1 and ,i hope this liberty will be allowed me4 ,perhaps ,i rather restore the word1 idea1 to its original sense1 from which ,mr ,locke had perverted it1 in making it stand for all our perceptions4 ,by the terms of impression ,i would not be understood to express the manner1 in which our lively perceptions are produced in the soul1 but merely the perceptions themselves2 for which there is no particular name either in the ,english or any other language1 that ,i know of4 ,there is another division of our perceptions1 which it will be convenient to observe1 and which extends itself both to our impressions and ideas4 ,this division is into ,,simple and ,,complex4 ,simple perceptions or impressions and ideas are such as admit of no distinction nor separation4 ,the complex are the contrary to these1 and may be distinguished into parts4 ,though a particular colour1 taste1 and smell1 are qualities all united together in this apple1 it is easy to perceive they are not the same1 but are at least distinguishable from each other4 ,having by these divisions given an order and arrangement to our objects1 we may now apply ourselves to consider with the more accuracy their qualities and relations4 ,the first circumstance1 that strikes my eye1 is the great resemblance betwixt our impressions and ideas in every other particular1 except their degree of force and vivacity4 ,the one seem to be in a manner the reflexion of the other2 so that all the perceptions of the mind are double1 and appear both as impressions and ideas4 ,when ,i shut my eyes and think of my chamber1 the ideas ,i form are exact representations of the impressions ,i felt2 nor is there any circumstance of the one1 which is not to be found in the other4 ,in running over my other perceptions1 ,i find still the same resemblance and representation4 ,ideas and impressions appear always to correspond to each other4 ,this circumstance seems to me remarkable1 and engages my attention for a moment4 ,upon a more accurate survey ,i find ,i have been carried away too far by the first appearance1 and that ,i must make use of the distinction of perceptions into simple and complex1 to limit this general decision1 that all our ideas and impressions are resembling4 ,i observe1 that many of our complex ideas never had impressions1 that corresponded to them1 and that many of our complex impressions never are exactly copied in ideas4 ,i can imagine to myself such a city as the ,new ,jerusalem1 whose pavement is gold and walls are rubies1 though ,i never saw any such4 ,i have seen ,paris2 but shall ,i affirm ,i can form such an idea of that city1 as will perfectly represent all its streets and houses in their real and just proportions8 ,i perceive1 therefore1 that though there is in general a great1 resemblance betwixt our complex impressions and ideas1 yet the rule is not universally true1 that they are exact copies of each other4 ,we may next consider how the case stands with our simple1 perceptions4 ,after the most accurate examination1 of which ,i am capable1 ,i venture to affirm1 that the rule here holds without any exception1 and that every simple idea has a simple impression1 which resembles it1 and every simple impression a correspondent idea4 ,that idea of red1 which we form in the dark1 and that impression which strikes our eyes in sun-shine1 differ only in degree1 not in nature4 ,that the case is the same with all our simple impressions and ideas1 it is impossible to prove by a particular enumeration of them4 ,every one may satisfy himself in this point by running over as many as he pleases4 ,but if any one should deny this universal resemblance1 ,i know no way of convincing him1 but by desiring him to shew a simple impression1 that has not a correspondent idea1 or a simple idea1 that has not a correspondent impression4 ,if he does not answer this challenge1 as it is certain he cannot1 we may from his silence and our own observation establish our conclusion4 ,thus we find1 that all simple ideas and impressions resemble each other2 and as the complex are formed from them1 we may affirm in general1 that these two species of perception are exactly correspondent4 ,having discovered this relation1 which requires no farther examination1 ,i am curious to find some other of their qualities4 ,let us consider how they stand with regard to their existence1 and which of the impressions and ideas are causes1 and which effects4 ,the full examination of this question is the subject of the present treatise2 and therefore we shall here content ourselves with establishing one general proposition1 ,,that ,,all ,,our ,,simple ,,ideas ,,in ,,their ,,first ,,appearance ,,are ,,derived ,,from ,,simple ,,impressions1 ,,which ,,are ,,correspondent ,,to ,,them1 ,,and ,,which ,,they ,,exactly ,,represent4 ,in seeking for phenomena to prove this proposition1 ,i find only those of two kinds2 but in each kind the phenomena are obvious1 numerous1 and conclusive4 ,i first make myself certain1 by a new1 review1 of what ,i have already asserted1 that every simple impression is attended with a correspondent idea1 and every simple idea with a correspondent impression4 ,from this constant conjunction of resembling perceptions ,i immediately conclude1 that there is a great connexion betwixt our correspondent impressions and ideas1 and that the existence of the one has a considerable influence upon that of the other4 ,such a constant conjunction1 in such an infinite number of instances1 can never arise from chance2 but clearly proves a dependence of the impressions on the ideas1 or of the ideas on the impressions4 ,that ,i may know on which side this dependence lies1 ,i consider the order of their first appearance2 and find by constant experience1 that the simple impressions always take the precedence of their correspondent ideas1 but never appear in the contrary order4 ,to give a child an idea of scarlet or orange1 of sweet or bitter1 ,i present the objects1 or in other words1 convey to him these impressions2 but proceed not so absurdly1 as to endeavour to produce the impressions by exciting the ideas4 ,our ideas upon their appearance produce not their correspondent impressions1 nor do we perceive any colour1 or feel any sensation merely upon thinking of them4 ,on the other hand we find1 that any impression either of the mind or body is constantly followed by an idea1 which resembles it1 and is only different in the degrees of force and liveliness4 ,the constant conjunction of our resembling perceptions1 is a convincing proof1 that the one are the causes of the other2 and this priority of the impressions is an equal proof1 that our impressions are the causes of our ideas1 not our ideas of our impressions4 ,to confirm this ,i consider ,another plain and convincing phnomenon2 which is1 that1 where-ever by any accident the faculties1 which give rise to any impressions1 are obstructed in their operations1 as when one is born blind or deaf2 not only the impressions are lost1 but also their correspondent ideas2 so that there never appear in the mind the least traces of either of them4 ,nor is this only true1 where the organs of sensation are entirely destroyed1 but likewise where they have never been put in action to produce a particular impression4 ,we cannot form to ourselves a just idea of the taste of a pine apple1 without having actually tasted it4 ,there is however one contradictory phnomenon1 which may prove1 that it is not absolutely impossible for ideas to go before their correspondent impressions4 ,i believe it will readily be allowed that the several distinct ideas of colours1 which enter by the eyes1 or those of sounds1 which are conveyed by the hearing1 are really different from each other1 though at the same time resembling4 ,now if this be true of different colours1 it must be no less so of the different shades of the same colour1 that each of them produces a distinct idea1 independent of the rest4 ,for if this should be denied1 it is possible1 by the continual gradation of shades1 to run a colour insensibly into what is most remote from it2 and if you will not allow any of the means to be different1 you cannot without absurdity deny the extremes to be the same4 ,suppose therefore a person to have enjoyed his sight for thirty years1 and to have become perfectly well acquainted with colours of all kinds1 excepting one particular shade of blue1 for instance1 which it never has been his fortune to meet with4 ,let all the different shades of that colour1 except that single one1 be placed before him1 descending gradually from the deepest to the lightest2 it is plain1 that he will perceive a blank1 where that shade is wanting1 said will be sensible1 that there is a greater distance in that place betwixt the contiguous colours1 than in any other4 ,now ,i ask1 whether it is possible for him1 from his own imagination1 to supply this deficiency1 and raise up to himself the idea of that particular shade1 though it had never been conveyed to him by his senses8 ,i believe there are few but will be of opinion that he can2 and this may serve as a proof1 that the simple ideas are not always derived from the correspondent impressions2 though the instance is so particular and singular1 that it is scarce worth our observing1 and does not merit that for it alone we should alter our general maxim4 ,but besides this exception1 it may not be amiss to remark on this head1 that the principle of the priority of impressions to ideas must be understood with another limitation1 viz41 that as our ideas are images of our impressions1 so we can form secondary ideas1 which are images of the primary2 as appears from this very reasoning concerning them4 ,this is not1 properly speaking1 an exception to the rule so much as an explanation of it4 ,ideas produce the images of themselves in new ideas2 but as the first ideas are supposed to be derived from impressions1 it still remains true1 that all our simple ideas proceed either mediately or immediately1 from their correspondent impressions4 ,this then is the first principle ,i establish in the science of human nature2 nor ought we to despise it because of the simplicity of its appearance4 ,for it is remarkable1 that the present question concerning the precedency of our impressions or ideas1 is the same with what has made so much noise in other terms1 when it has been disputed whether there be any ,,innate ,,ideas1 or whether all ideas be derived from sensation and reflexion4 ,we may observe1 that in order to prove the ideas of extension and colour not to be innate1 philosophers do nothing but shew that they are conveyed by our senses4 ,to prove the ideas of passion and desire not to be innate1 they observe that we have a preceding experience of these emotions in ourselves4 ,now if we carefully examine these arguments1 we shall find that they prove nothing but that ideas are preceded by other more lively perceptions1 from which the are derived1 and which they represent4 ,i hope this clear stating of the question will remove all disputes concerning it1 and win render this principle of more use in our reasonings1 than it seems hitherto to have been4 ,,sect4 ,,ii4 ,,division ,,of ,,the ,,subject4 ,since it appears1 that our simple impressions are prior to their correspondent ideas1 and that the exceptions are very rare1 method seems to require we should examine our impressions1 before we consider our ideas4 ,impressions may be divided into two kinds1 those ,of ,,sensation and those of ,,reflexion4 ,the first kind arises in the soul originally1 from unknown causes4 ,the second is derived in a great measure from our ideas1 and that in the following order4 ,an impression first strikes upon the senses1 and makes us perceive heat or cold1 thirst or hunger1 pleasure or pain of some kind or other4 ,of this impression there is a copy taken by the mind1 which remains after the impression ceases2 and this we call an idea4 ,this idea of pleasure or pain1 when it returns upon the soul1 produces the new impressions of desire and aversion1 hope and fear1 which may properly be called impressions of reflexion1 because derived from it4 ,these again are copied by the memory and imagination1 and become ideas2 which perhaps in their turn give rise to other impressions and ideas4 ,so that the impressions of reflexion are only antecedent to their correspondent ideas2 but posterior to those of sensation1 and derived from them4 ,the examination of our sensations belongs more to anatomists and natural philosophers than to moral2 and therefore shall not at present be entered upon4 ,and as the impressions of reflexion1 viz4 passions1 desires1 and emotions1 which principally deserve our attention1 arise mostly from ideas1 it will be necessary to reverse that method1 which at first sight seems most natural2 and in order to explain the nature and principles of the human mind1 give a particular account of ideas1 before we proceed to impressions4 ,for this reason ,i have here chosen to begin with ideas4 ,,sect4 ,,iii4 ,,of ,,the ,,ideas ,,of ,,the ,,memory ,,and ,,imagination4 ,we find by experience1 that when any impression has been present with the mind1 it again makes its appearance there as an idea2 and this it may do after two different ways3 either when in its new appearance it retains a considerable degree of its first vivacity1 and is somewhat intermediate betwixt an impression and an idea3 or when it entirely loses that vivacity1 and is a perfect idea4 ,the faculty1 by which we repeat our impressions in the first manner1 is called the ,,memory1 and the other the ,,imagination4 ,it is evident at first sight1 that the ideas of the memory are much more lively and strong than those of the imagination1 and that the former faculty paints its objects in more distinct colours1 than any which are employed by the latter4 ,when we remember any past event1 the idea of it flows in upon the mind in a forcible manner2 whereas in the imagination the perception is faint and languid1 and cannot without difficulty be preserved by the mind steddy and uniform for any considerable time4 ,here then is a sensible difference betwixt one species of ideas and another4 ,but of this more fully hereafter4#b #b ,part ,,iii1 ,sect4 #e4 ,there is another difference betwixt these two kinds of ideas1 which is no less evident1 namely that though neither the ideas1 of the memory nor imagination1 neither the lively nor faint ideas can make their appearance in the mind1 unless their correspondent impressions have gone before to prepare the way for them1 yet the imagination is not restrained to the same order and form with the original impressions2 while the memory is in a manner tied down in that respect1 without any power of variation4 ,it is evident1 that the memory preserves the original form1 in which its objects were presented1 and that where-ever we depart from it in recollecting any thing1 it proceeds from some defect or imperfection in that faculty4 ,an historian may1 perhaps1 for the more convenient ,carrying on of his narration1 relate an event before another1 to which it was in fact posterior2 but then he takes notice of this disorder1 if he be exact2 and by that means replaces the idea in its due position4 ,it is the same case in our recollection of those places and persons1 with which we were formerly acquainted4 ,the chief exercise of the memory is not to preserve the simple ideas1 but their order and position4 ,in short1 this principle is supported by such a number of common and vulgar phaenomena1 that we may spare ourselves the trouble of insisting on it any farther4 ,the same evidence follows us in our second principle1 ,,of ,,the ,,liberty ,,of ,,the ,,imagination ,,to ,,transpose ,,and ,,change ,,its ,,ideas4 ,the fables we meet with in poems and romances put this entirely out of the question4 ,nature there is totally confounded1 and nothing mentioned but winged horses1 fiery dragons1 and monstrous giants4 ,nor will this liberty of the fancy appear strange1 when we consider1 that all our ideas are copyed from our impressions1 and that there are not any two impressions which are perfectly inseparable4 ,not to mention1 that this is an evident consequence of the division of ideas into simple and complex4 ,where-ever the imagination perceives a difference among ideas1 it can easily produce a separation4 ,,sect4 ,,iv4 ,,of ,,the ,,connexion ,,or ,,association ,,of ,,ideas4 ,as all simple ideas may be separated by the imagination1 and may be united again in what form it pleases1 nothing would be more unaccountable than the operations of that faculty1 were it not guided by some universal principles1 which render it1 in some measure1 uniform with itself in all times and places4 ,were ideas entirely loose and unconnected1 chance alone would join them2 and it is impossible the same simple ideas should fall regularly into complex ones 7as they ,commonly do7 without some bond of union among them1 some associating quality1 by which one idea naturally introduces another4 ,this uniting principle among ideas is not to be considered as an inseparable connexion2 for that has been already excluded from the imagination3 ,nor yet are we to conclude1 that without it the mind cannot join two ideas2 for nothing is more free than that faculty3 but we are only to regard it as a gentle force1 which commonly prevails1 and is the cause why1 among other things1 languages so nearly correspond to each other2 nature in a manner pointing out to every one those simple ideas1 which are most proper to be united in a complex one4 ,the qualities1 from which this association arises1 and by which the mind is after this manner conveyed from one idea to another1 are three1 viz4 ,,resemblance1 ,,contiguity in time or place1 and ,,cause and ,,effect4 ,i believe it will not be very necessary to prove1 that these qualities produce an association among ideas1 and upon the appearance of one idea naturally introduce another4 ,it is plain1 that in the course of our thinking1 and in the constant revolution of our ideas1 our imagination runs easily from one idea to any other that resembles it1 and that this quality alone is to the fancy a sufficient bond and association4 ,it is likewise evident that as the senses1 in changing their objects1 are necessitated to change them regularly1 and take them as they lie ,,contiguous to each other1 the imagination must by long custom acquire the same method of thinking1 and run along the parts of space and time in conceiving its objects4 ,as to the connexion1 that is made by the relation of cause and effect1 we shall have occasion afterwards to examine it to the bottom1 and therefore shall not at present insist upon it4 ,it is sufficient to observe1 that there is no relation1 which produces a stronger connexion in the fancy1 and makes one idea more readily recall another1 than the relation of cause and effect betwixt their objects4 ,that we may understand the full extent of these relations1 we must consider1 that two objects are connected together in the imagination1 not only when the one is immediately resembling1 contiguous to1 or the cause of the other1 but also when there is interposed betwixt them a third object1 which bears to both of them any of these relations4 ,this may be carried on to a great length2 though at the same time we may observe1 that each remove considerably weakens the relation4 ,cousins in the fourth degree are connected by causation1 if ,i may be allowed to use that term2 but not so closely as brothers1 much less as child and parent4 ,in general we may observe1 that all the relations of blood depend upon cause and effect1 and are esteemed near or remote1 according to the number of connecting causes interposed betwixt the persons4 ,of the three relations above-mentioned this of causation is the most extensive4 ,two objects may be considered as placed in this relation1 as well when one is the cause of any of the actions or motions of the other1 as when the former is the cause of the existence of the latter4 ,for as that action or motion is nothing but the object itself1 considered in a certain light1 and as the object continues the same in all its different situations1 it is easy to imagine how such an influence of objects upon one another may connect them in the imagination4 ,we may carry this farther1 and remark1 not only that two objects are connected by the relation of cause and effect1 when the one produces a motion or any action in the other1 but also when it has a power of producing it4 ,and this we may observe to be the source of all the relation1 of interest and duty1 by which men influence each other in society1 and are placed in the ties of government and subordination4 ,a master is such-a-one as by his situation1 arising either from force or agreement1 has a power of directing in certain particulars the actions of another1 whom we call servant4 ,a judge is one1 who in all disputed cases can fix by his opinion the possession or property of any thing betwixt any members of the society4 ,when a person is possessed of any power1 there is no more required to convert it into action1 but the exertion of the will2 and that in every case is considered as possible1 and in many as probable2 especially in the case of authority1 where the obedience of the subject is a pleasure and advantage to the superior4 ,these are therefore the principles of union or cohesion among our simple ideas1 and in the imagination supply the place of that inseparable connexion1 by which they are united in our memory4 ,here is a kind of ,,attraction1 which in the mental world will be found to have as extraordinary effects as in the natural1 and to shew itself in as many and as various forms4 ,its effects are every where conspicuous2 but as to its causes1 they are mostly unknown1 and must be resolved into original qualities of human nature1 which ,i pretend not to explain4 ,nothing is more requisite for a true philosopher1 than to restrain the intemperate desire of searching into causes1 and having established any doctrine upon a sufficient number of experiments1 rest contented with that1 when he sees a farther examination would lead him into obscure and uncertain speculations4 ,in that case his enquiry would be much better employed in examining the effects than the causes of his principle4 ,amongst the effects of this union or association of ideas1 there are none more remarkable1 than those complex ideas1 which are the common subjects of our thoughts and reasoning1 and generally arise from some principle of union among our simple ideas4 ,these complex ideas may be divided into ,relations1 ,modes1 and ,substances4 ,we shall briefly examine each of these in order1 and shall subjoin some considerations concerning our general and particular ideas1 before we leave the present subject1 which may be considered as the elements of this philosophy4 ,,sect4 ,v4 ,,of ,,relations4 ,the word ,,relation is commonly used in two senses considerably different from each other4 ,either for that quality1 by which two ideas are connected together in the imagination1 and the one naturally introduces the other1 after the manner above-explained3 or for that particular circumstance1 in which1 even upon the arbitrary union of two ideas in the fancy1 we may think proper to compare them4 ,in common language the former is always the sense1 in which we use the word1 relation2 and it is only in philosophy1 that we extend it to mean any particular subject of comparison1 without a connecting principle4 ,thus distance will be allowed by philosophers to be a true relation1 because we acquire an idea of it by the comparing of objects3 ,but in a common way we say1 ,,that ,,nothing ,,can ,,be ,,more ,,distant ,,than ,,such ,,or ,,such ,,things ,,from ,,each ,,other1 ,,nothing ,,can ,,have ,,less ,,relation3 as if distance and relation were incompatible4 ,it may perhaps be esteemed an endless task to enumerate all those qualities1 which make objects admit of comparison1 and by which the ideas of philosophical relation are produced4 ,but if we diligently consider them1 we shall find that without difficulty they may be comprised under seven general heads1 which may be considered as the sources of all philosophical relation4 7#a7 ,the first is ,,resemblance3 ,and this is a relation1 without which no philosophical relation can exist2 since no objects will admit of comparison1 but what have some degree of resemblance4 ,but though resemblance be necessary to all philosophical relation1 it does not follow1 that it always produces a connexion or association of ideas4 ,when a quality becomes very general1 and is common to a great many individuals1 it leads not the mind directly to any one of them2 but by presenting at once too great a choice1 does thereby prevent the imagination from fixing on any single object4 7#b7 ,,identity may be esteemed a second species of relation4 ,this relation ,i here consider as applied in its strictest sense to constant and unchangeable objects2 without examining the nature and foundation of personal identity1 which shall find its place afterwards4 ,of all relations the most universal is that of identity1 being common to every being whose existence has any duration4 7#c7 ,after identity the most universal and comprehensive relations are those of ,,space and ,,time1 which are the sources of an infinite number of comparisons1 such as distant1 contiguous1 above1 below1 before1 after1 etc4 7#d7 ,all those objects1 which admit of ,,quantity1 or ,,number1 may be compared in that particular2 which is another very fertile source of relation4 7#e7 ,when any two objects possess the same ,,quality in common1 the ,,degrees1 in which they possess it1 form a fifth species of relation4 ,thus of two objects1 which are both heavy1 the one may be either of greater1 or less weight than the other4 ,two colours1 that are of the same kind1 may yet be of different shades1 and in that respect admit of comparison4 7#f7 ,the relation of ,,contrariety may at first sight be regarded as an exception to the rule1 ,,that ,,no ,,relation ,,of ,,any ,,kind ,,can ,,subsist ,,without ,,some ,,degree ,,of ,,resemblance4 ,but let us consider1 that no two ideas are in themselves contrary1 except those of existence and non-existence1 which are plainly resembling1 as implying both of them an idea of the object2 though the latter excludes the object from all times and places1 in which it is supposed not to exist4 7#g7 ,all other objects1 such as fire and water1 heat and cold1 are only found to be contrary from experience1 and from the contrariety of their causes or effects2 which relation of cause and effect is a seventh philosophical relation1 as well as a natural one4 ,the resemblance implied in this relation1 shall be explained afterwards4 ,it might naturally be expected1 that ,i should join ,,difference to the other relations4 ,but that ,i consider rather as a negation of relation1 than as anything real or positive4 ,difference is of two kinds as opposed either to identity or resemblance4 ,the first is called a difference of number2 the other of ,,kind4 ,,sect4 ,,vi4 ,,of ,,modes ,,and ,,substances ,i would fain ask those philosophers1 who found so much of their reasonings on the distinction of substance and accident1 and imagine we have clear ideas of each1 whether the idea of substance be derived from the impressions of sensation or of reflection8 ,if it be conveyed to us by our senses1 ,i ask1 which of them2 and after what manner8 ,if it be perceived by the eyes1 it must be a colour2 if by the ears1 a sound2 if by the palate1 a taste2 and so of the other senses4 ,but ,i believe none will assert1 that substance is either a colour1 or sound1 or a taste4 ,the idea1 of substance must therefore be derived from an impression of reflection1 if it really exist4 ,but the impressions of reflection resolve themselves into our passions and emotions3 none of which can possibly represent a substance4 ,we have therefore no idea of substance1 distinct from that of a collection of particular qualities1 nor have we any other meaning when we either talk or reason concerning it4 ,the idea of a substance as well as that of a mode1 is nothing but a collection of ,simple ideas1 that are united by the imagination1 and have a particular name assigned them1 by which we are able to recall1 either to ourselves or others1 that collection4 ,but the difference betwixt these ideas consists in this1 that the particular qualities1 which form a substance1 are commonly referred to an unknown something1 in which they are supposed to inhere2 or granting this fiction should not take place1 are at least supposed to be closely and inseparably connected by the relations of contiguity and causation4 ,the effect of this is1 that whatever new simple quality we discover to have the same connexion with the rest1 we immediately comprehend it among them1 even though it did not enter into the first conception of the substance4 ,thus our idea of gold may at first be a yellow colour1 weight1 malleableness1 fusibility2 but upon the discovery of its dissolubility in aqua regia1 we join that to the other qualities1 and suppose it to belong to the substance as much as if its idea had from the beginning made a part of the compound one4 ,the principal of union being regarded as the chief part of the complex idea1 gives entrance to whatever quality afterwards occurs1 and is equally comprehended by it1 as are the others1 which first presented themselves4 ,that this cannot take place in modes1 is evident from considering their nature4 ,the simple ideas of which modes are formed1 either represent qualities1 which are not united by contiguity and causation1 but are dispersed in different subjects2 or if they be all united together1 the uniting principle is not regarded as the foundation of the complex idea4 ,the idea of a dance is an instance of the first kind of modes2 that of beauty of the second4 ,the reason is obvious1 why such complex ideas cannot receive any new idea1 without changing the name1 which distinguishes the mode4 ,,sect4 ,,vii4 ,,of ,,abstract ,,ideas4 ,a very material question has been started concerning ,,abstract or ,,general ideas1 ,,whether ,,they ,,be ,,general ,,or ,,particular ,,in ,,the ,,mind',s ,,conception ,,of ,,them4 ,a great philosopher #c has disputed the received opinion in this particular1 and has asserted1 that all general ideas are nothing but particular ones1 annexed to a certain term1 which gives them a more extensive signification1 and makes them recall upon occasion other individuals1 which are similar to them4 ,as ,i look upon this to be one of the greatest and most valuable discoveries that has been made of late years in the republic of letters1 ,i shall here endeavour to confirm it by some arguments1 which ,i hope will put it beyond all doubt and controversy4 #c ,dr4 ,berkeley4 ,introd43 to #8,principles of ,human ,knowledge1' secs4 #ah c4 ,cf4 also ,introd4 to this volume paragraphs #ahc and ff4--,ed4 ,it is evident1 that in forming most of our general ideas1 if not all of them1 we abstract from every particular degree of quantity and quality1 and that an object ceases not to be of any particular species on account of every small alteration in its extension1 duration and other properties4 ,it may therefore be thought1 that here is a plain dilemma1 that decides concerning the nature of those abstract ideas1 which have afforded so much speculation to philosophers4 ,the abstract idea of a man represents men of all sizes and all qualities2 which it is concluded it cannot do1 but either by representing at once all possible sizes and all possible qualities1 or by1 representing no particular one at all4 ,now it having been esteemed absurd to defend the former proposition1 as implying an infinite capacity in the mind1 it has been commonly inferred in favour of the latter3 and our abstract ideas have been supposed to represent no particular degree either of quantity or quality4 ,but that this inference is erroneous1 ,i shall endeavour to make appear1 first1 by proving1 that it is utterly impossible to conceive any quantity or quality1 without forming a precise notion of its degrees3 ,and secondly by showing1 that though the capacity of the mind be not infinite1 yet we can at once form a notion of all possible degrees of quantity and quality1 in such a manner at least1 as1 however imperfect1 may serve all the purposes of reflection and conversation4 ,to begin with the first proposition1 ,,that ,,the ,,mind ,,cannot ,,form ,,any ,,notion ,,of ,,quantity ,,or ,,quality ,,without ,,forming ,a ,,precise ,,notion ,,of ,,degrees ,,of ,,each2 we may prove this by the three following arguments4 ,first1 ,we have observed1 that whatever objects are different are distinguishable1 and that whatever objects are distinguishable are separable by the thought and imagination4 ,and we may here add1 that these propositions are equally true in the inverse1 and that whatever objects are separable are also distinguishable1 and that whatever objects are distinguishable1 are also different4 ,for how is it possible we can separate what is not distinguishable1 or distinguish what is not different8 ,in order therefore to know1 whether abstraction implies a separation1 we need only consider it in this view1 and examine1 whether all the circumstances1 which we abstract from in our general ideas1 be such as are distinguishable and different from those1 which we retain as essential parts of them4 ,but it is evident at first sight1 that the precise length of a line is not different nor distinguishable from the line itself nor the precise degree of any quality from the quality4 ,these ideas1 therefore1 admit no more of separation than they do of distinction and difference4 ,they are consequently conjoined with each other in the conception2 and the general idea of a line1 notwithstanding all our abstractions and refinements1 has in its appearance in the mind a precise degree of quantity and quality2 however it may be made to represent others1 which have different degrees of both4 ,secondly1 it is contest1 that no object can appear to the senses2 or in other words1 that no impression can become present to the mind1 without being determined in its degrees both of quantity and quality4 ,the confusion1 in which impressions are sometimes involved1 proceeds only from their faintness and unsteadiness1 not from any capacity in the mind to receive any impression1 which in its real existence has no particular degree nor proportion4 ,that is a contradiction in terms2 and even implies the flattest of all contradictions1 viz4 that it is possible for the same thing both to be and not to be4 ,now since all ideas are derived from impressions1 and are nothing but copies and representations of them1 whatever is true of the one must be acknowledged concerning the other4 ,impressions and ideas differ only in their strength and vivacity4 ,the foregoing conclusion is not founded on any particular degree of vivacity4 ,it cannot therefore be affected by any variation in that particular4 ,an idea is a weaker impression2 and as a strong impression must necessarily have a determinate quantity and quality1 the case must be the same with its copy or representative4 ,thirdly1 it is a principle generally received in philosophy that everything in nature is individual1 and that it is utterly absurd to suppose a triangle really existent1 which has no precise proportion of sides and angles4 ,if this therefore be absurd in fact and reality1 it must also be absurd in idea2 since nothing of which we can form a clear and distinct idea is absurd and impossible4 ,but to form the idea of an object1 and to form an idea simply1 is the same thing2 the reference of the idea to an object being an extraneous denomination1 of which in itself it bears no mark or character4 ,now as it is impossible to form an idea of an object1 that is possest of quantity and quality1 and yet is possest of no precise degree of either2 it follows that there is an equal impossibility of forming an idea1 that is not limited and confined in both these particulars4 ,abstract ideas are therefore in themselves individual1 however they may become general in their representation4 ,the image in the mind is only that of a particular object1 though the application of it in our reasoning be the same1 as if it were universal4 ,this application of ideas beyond their nature proceeds from our collecting all their possible degrees of quantity and quality in such an imperfect manner as may serve the purposes of life1 which is the second proposition ,i proposed to explain4 ,when we have found a resemblance#d among several objects1 that often occur to us1 we apply the same name to all of them1 whatever differences we may observe in the degrees of their quantity and quality1 and whatever other differences may appear among them4 ,after we have acquired a custom of this kind1 the hearing of that name revives the idea of one of these objects1 and makes the imagination conceive it with all its particular circumstances and proportions4 ,but as the same word is supposed to have been frequently applied to other individuals1 that are different in many respects from that idea1 which is immediately present to the mind2 the word not being able to revive the idea of all these individuals1 but only touches the soul1 if ,i may be allowed so to speak1 and revives that custom1 which we have acquired by surveying them4 ,they are not really and in fact present to the mind1 but only in power2 nor do we draw them all out distinctly in the imagination1 but keep ourselves in a readiness to survey any of them1 as we may be prompted by a present design or necessity4 ,the word raises up an individual idea1 along with a certain custom2 and that custom produces any other individual one1 for which we may have occasion4 ,but as the production of all the ideas1 to which the name may be applied1 is in most eases impossible1 we abridge that work by a more partial consideration1 and find but few inconveniences to arise in our reasoning from that abridgment4 #d ,it is evident1 that even different simple ideas may have a similarity or resemblance to each other2 nor is it necessary1 that the point or circumstance of resemblance shoud be distinct or separable from that in which they differ4 ,,blue and ,,green are different simple ideas1 but are more resembling than ,,blue and ,,scarlet2 tho their perfect simplicity excludes all possibility of separation or distinction4 ,it is the same case with particular sounds1 and tastes and smells4 ,these admit of infinite resemblances upon the general appearance and comparison1 without having any common circumstance the same4 ,and of this we may be certain1 even from the very abstract terms ,,simple ,,idea4 ,they comprehend all simple ideas under them4 ,these resemble each other in their simplicity4 ,and yet from their very nature1 which excludes all composition1 this circumstance1 ,in which they resemble1 ,is not distinguishable nor separable from the rest4 ,it is the same case with all the degrees ,in any quality4 ,they are all resembling and yet the quality1 ,in any individual1 ,is not distinct from the degree4 ,for this is one of the most extraordinary circumstances in the present affair1 that after the mind has produced an individual idea1 upon which we reason1 the attendant custom1 revived by the general or abstract term1 readily suggests any other individual1 if by chance we form any reasoning1 that agrees not with it4 ,thus should we mention the word triangle1 and form the idea of a particular equilateral one to correspond to it1 and should we afterwards assert1 that the three angles of a triangle are equal to each other1 the other individuals of a scalenum and isosceles1 which we overlooked at first1 immediately crowd in upon us1 and make us perceive the falshood of this proposition1 though it be true with relation to that idea1 which we had formed4 ,if the mind suggests not always these ideas upon occasion1 it proceeds from some imperfection in its faculties2 and such a one as is often the source of false reasoning and sophistry4 ,but this is principally the case with those ideas which are abstruse and compounded4 ,on other occasions the custom is more entire1 and it is seldom we run into such errors4 ,nay so entire is the custom1 that the very same idea may be annext to several different words1 and may be employed in different reasonings1 without any danger of mistake4 ,thus the idea of an equilateral triangle of an inch perpendicular may serve us in talking of a figure1 of a rectilinear figure1 of a regular figure1 of a triangle1 and of an equilateral triangle4 ,all these terms1 therefore1 are in this case attended with the same idea2 but as they are wont to be applied in a greater or lesser compass1 they excite their particular habits1 and thereby keep the mind in a readiness to observe1 that no conclusion be formed contrary to any ideas1 which are usually comprized under them4 ,before those habits have become entirely perfect1 perhaps the mind may not be content with forming the idea of only one individual1 but may run over several1 in order to make itself comprehend its own meaning1 and the compass of that collection1 which it intends to express by the general term4 ,that we may fix the meaning of the word1 figure1 we may revolve in our mind the ideas of circles1 squares1 parallelograms1 triangles of different sizes and proportions1 and may not rest on one image or idea4 ,however this may be1 it is certain that we form the idea of individuals1 whenever we use any general term2 that we seldom or never can exhaust these individuals2 and that those1 which remain1 are only represented by means of that habit1 by which we recall them1 whenever any present occasion requires it4 ,this then is the nature of our abstract ideas and general terms2 and it is after this manner we account for the foregoing paradox1 ,,that ,,some ,,ideas ,,are ,,particular ,,in ,,their ,,nature1 ,,but ,,general ,,in ,,their ,,representation4 ,a particular idea becomes general by being annexed to a general term2 that is1 to a term1 which from a customary conjunction has a relation to many other particular ideas1 and readily recalls them in the imagination4 ,the only difficulty1 that can remain on this subject1 must be with regard to that custom1 which so readily recalls every particular idea1 for which we may have occasion1 and is excited by any word or sound1 to which we commonly annex it4 ,the most proper method1 in my opinion1 of giving a satisfactory explication of this act of the mind1 is by producing other instances1 which are analogous to it1 and other principles1 which facilitate its operation4 ,to explain the ultimate causes of our mental actions is impossible4 ,it is sufficient1 if we can give any satisfactory account of them from experience and analogy4 ,first then ,i observe1 that when we mention any great number1 such as a thousand1 the mind has generally no adequate idea of it1 but only a power of producing such an idea1 by its adequate idea of the decimals1 under which the number is comprehended4 ,this imperfection1 however1 in our ideas1 is never felt in our reasonings2 which seems to be an instance parallel to the present one of universal ideas4 ,secondly1 we have several instances of habits1 which may be revived by one single word2 as when a person1 who has by rote any periods of a discourse1 or any number of verses1 will be put in remembrance of the whole1 which he is at a loss to recollect1 by that single word or expression1 with which they begin4 ,thirdly1 ,i believe every one1 who examines the situation of his mind in reasoning will agree with me1 that we do not annex distinct and compleat ideas to every term we make use of1 and that in talking of government1 church1 negotiation1 conquest1 we seldom spread out in our minds all the simple ideas1 of which these complex ones are composed4 ,it is however observable1 that notwithstanding this imperfection we may avoid talking nonsense on these subjects1 and may perceive any repugnance among the ideas1 as well as if we had a fall comprehension of them4 ,thus if instead of saying1 that in war the weaker have always recourse to negotiation1 we should say1 that they have always recourse to conquest1 the custom1 which we have acquired of attributing certain relations to ideas1 still follows the words1 and makes us immediately perceive the absurdity of that proposition2 in the same manner as one particular idea may serve us in reasoning concerning other ideas1 however different from it in several circumstances4 ,fourthly1 ,as the individuals are collected together1 said placed under a general term with a view to that resemblance1 which they bear to each other1 this relation must facilitate their entrance in the imagination1 and make them be suggested more readily upon occasion4 ,and indeed if we consider the common progress of the thought1 either in reflection or conversation1 we shall find great reason to be satisfyed in this particular4 ,nothing is more admirable1 than the readiness1 with which the imagination suggests its ideas1 and presents them at the very instant1 in which they become necessary or useful4 ,the fancy runs from one end of the universe to the other in collecting those ideas1 which belong to any subject4 ,one would think the whole intellectual world of ideas was at once subjected to our view1 and that we did nothing but pick out such as were most proper for our purpose4 ,there may not1 however1 be any present1 beside those very ideas1 that are thus collected by a kind of magical faculty in the soul1 which1 though it be always most perfect in the greatest geniuses1 and is properly what we call a genius1 is however inexplicable by the utmost efforts of human understanding4 ,perhaps these four reflections may help to remove an difficulties to the hypothesis ,i have proposed concerning abstract ideas1 so contrary to that1 which has hitherto prevailed in philosophy1 ,but1 to tell the truth ,i place my chief confidence in what ,i have already proved concerning the impossibility of general ideas1 according to the common method of explaining them4 ,we must certainly seek some new system on this head1 and there plainly is none beside what ,i have proposed4 ,if ideas be particular in their nature1 and at the same time finite in their number1 it is only by custom they can become general in their representation1 and contain an infinite number of other ideas under them4 ,before ,i leave this subject ,i shall employ the same principles to explain that distinction of reason1 which is so much talked of1 and is so little understood1 in the schools4 ,of this kind is the distinction betwixt figure and the body figured2 motion and the body moved4 ,the difficulty of explaining this distinction arises from the principle above explained1 that all ideas1 which are different1 are separable4 ,for it follows from thence1 that if the figure be different from the body1 their ideas must be separable as well as distinguishable3 if they be not different1 their ideas can neither be separable nor distinguishable4 ,what then is meant by a distinction of reason1 since it implies neither a difference nor separation4 ,to remove this difficulty we must have recourse to the foregoing explication of abstract ideas4 ,it is certain that the mind would never have dreamed of distinguishing a figure from the body figured1 as being in reality neither distinguishable1 nor different1 nor separable2 did it not observe1 that even in this simplicity there might be contained many different resemblances and relations4 ,thus when a globe of white marble is presented1 we receive only the impression of a white colour disposed in a certain form1 nor are we able to separate and distinguish the colour from the form4 ,but observing afterwards a globe of black marble and a cube of white1 and comparing them with our former object1 we find two separate resemblances1 in what formerly seemed1 and really is1 perfectly inseparable4 ,after a little more practice of this kind1 we begin to distinguish the figure from the colour by a distinction of reason2 that is1 we consider the figure and colour together1 since they are in effect the same and undistinguishable2 but still view them in different aspects1 according to the resemblances1 of which they are susceptible4 ,when we would consider only the figure of the globe of white marble1 we form in reality an idea both of the figure and colour1 but tacitly carry our eye to its resemblance with the globe of black marble3 ,and in the same manner1 when we would consider its colour only1 we turn our view to its resemblance with the cube of white marble4 ,by this means we accompany our ideas with a kind of reflection1 of which custom renders us1 in a great measure1 insensible4 ,a person1 who desires us to consider the figure of a globe of white marble without thinking on its colour1 desires an impossibility but his meaning is1 that we should consider the figure and colour together1 but still keep in our eye the resemblance to the globe of black marble1 or that to any other globe of whatever colour or substance4 ,,part ,,ii4 ,,of ,,the ,,ideas ,,of ,,space ,,and ,,time4 ,,sect4 ,i4 ,,of ,,the ,,infinite ,,divisibility ,,of ,,our ,,ideas ,,of ,,space ,,and ,,time4 ,whatever has the air of a paradox1 and is contrary to the first and most unprejudiced notions of mankind1 is often greedily embraced by philosophers1 as shewing the superiority of their science1 which could discover opinions so remote from vulgar conception4 ,on the other hand1 anything proposed to us1 which causes surprize and admiration1 gives such a satisfaction to the mind1 that it indulges itself in those agreeable emotions1 and will never be persuaded that its pleasure is entirely without foundation4 ,from these dispositions in philosophers and their disciples arises that mutual complaisance betwixt them2 while the former furnish such plenty of strange and unaccountable opinions1 and the latter so readily believe them4 ,of this mutual complaisance ,i cannot give a more evident instance than in the doctrine of infinite divisibility1 with the examination of which ,i shall begin this subject of the ideas of space and time4 ,it is universally allowed1 that the capacity of the mind is limited1 and can never attain a full and adequate conception of infinity3 ,and though it were not allowed1 it would be sufficiently evident from the plainest observation and experience4 ,it is also obvious1 that whatever is capable of being divided in infinitum1 must consist of an infinite number of parts1 and that it is impossible to set any bounds to the number of parts1 without setting bounds at the same time to the division4 ,it requires scarce any1 induction to conclude from hence1 that the idea1 which we form of any finite quality1 is not infinitely divisible1 but that by proper distinctions and separations we may run up this idea to inferior ones1 which will be perfectly simple and indivisible4 ,in rejecting the infinite capacity of the mind1 we suppose it may arrive at an end in the division of its ideas2 nor are there any possible means of evading the evidence of this conclusion4 ,it is therefore certain1 that the imagination reaches a minimum1 and may raise up to itself an idea1 of which it cannot conceive any sub-division1 and which cannot be diminished without a total annihilation4 ,when you tell me of the thousandth and ten thousandth part of a grain of sand1 ,i have a distinct idea of these numbers and of their different proportions2 but the images1 which ,i form in my mind to represent the things themselves1 are nothing different from each other1 nor inferior to that image1 by which ,i represent the grain of sand itself1 which is supposed so vastly to exceed them4 ,what consists of parts is distinguishable into them1 and what is distinguishable is separable4 ,but whatever we may imagine of the thing1 the idea of a grain of sand is not distinguishable1 nor separable into twenty1 much less into a thousand1 ten thousand1 or an infinite number of different ideas4 ,it is the same case with the impressions of the senses as with the ideas of the imagination4 ,put a spot of ink upon paper1 fix your eye upon that spot1 and retire to such a distance1 that1 at last you lose sight of it2 it is plain1 that the moment before it vanished the image or impression was perfectly indivisible4 ,it is not for want of rays of light striking on our eyes1 that the minute parts of distant bodies convey not any sensible impression2 but because they are removed beyond that distance1 at which their impressions were reduced to a minimum1 and were incapable of any farther diminution4 ,a microscope or telescope1 which renders them visible1 produces not any new rays of light1 but only spreads those1 which always flowed from them2 and by that means both gives parts to impressions1 which to the naked eye appear simple and uncompounded1 and advances to a minimum1 what was formerly imperceptible4 ,we may hence discover the error of the common opinion1 that the capacity of the mind is limited on both sides1 and that it is impossible for the imagination to form an adequate idea1 of what goes beyond a certain degree of minuteness as well as of greatness4 ,nothing can be more minute1 than some ideas1 which we form in the fancy2 and images1 which appear to the senses2 since there are ideas and images perfectly simple and indivisible4 ,the only defect of our senses is1 that they give us disproportioned images of things1 and represent as minute and uncompounded what is really great and composed of a vast number of parts4 ,this mistake we are not sensible of3 but taking the impressions of those minute objects1 which appear to the senses1 to be equal or nearly equal to the objects1 and finding by reason1 that there are other objects vastly more minute1 we too hastily conclude1 that these are inferior to any idea of our imagination or impression of our senses4 ,this however is certain1 that we can form ideas1 which shall be no greater than the smallest atom of the animal spirits of an insect a thousand times less than a mite3 ,and we ought rather to conclude1 that the difficulty lies in enlarging our conceptions so much as to form a just notion of a mite1 or even of an insect a thousand times less than a mite4 ,for in order to form a just notion of these animals1 we must have a distinct idea representing every part of them1 which1 according to the system of infinite divisibility1 is utterly impossible1 and1 recording to that of indivisible parts or atoms1 is extremely difficult1 by reason of the vast number and multiplicity of these parts4 ,,sect4 ,,ii4 ,,of ,,the ,,infinite ,,divisibility ,,of ,,space ,,and ,,time4 ,wherever ideas are adequate representations of objects1 the relations1 contradictions and agreements of the ideas are all applicable to the objects2 and this we may in general observe to be the foundation of all human knowledge4 ,but our ideas are adequate representations of the most minute parts of extension2 and through whatever divisions and subdivisions we may suppose these parts to be arrived at1 they can never become inferior to some ideas1 which we form4 ,the plain consequence is1 that whatever appears impossible and contradictory upon the comparison of these ideas1 must be really impossible and contradictory1 without any farther excuse or evasion4 ,every thing capable of being infinitely divided contains an infinite number of parts2 otherwise the division would be stopt short by the indivisible parts1 which we should immediately arrive at4 ,if therefore any finite extension be infinitely divisible1 it can be no contradiction to suppose1 that a finite extension contains an infinite number of parts3 ,and vice versa1 if it be a contradiction to suppose1 that a finite extension contains an infinite number of parts1 no finite extension can be infinitely divisible4 ,but that this latter supposition is absurd1 ,i easily convince myself by the consideration of my clear ideas4 ,i first take the least idea ,i can form of a part of extension1 and being certain that there is nothing more minute than this idea1 ,i conclude1 that whatever ,i discover by its means must be a real quality of extension4 ,i then repeat this idea once1 twice1 thrice1 c41 and find the compound idea of extension1 arising from its repetition1 always to augment1 and become double1 triple1 quadruple1 c41 till at last it swells up to a considerable bulk1 greater or smaller1 in proportion as ,i repeat more or less the same idea4 ,when ,i stop in the addition of parts1 the idea of extension ceases to augment2 and were ,i to carry on the addition in infinitum1 ,i clearly perceive1 that the idea of extension must also become infinite4 ,upon the whole1 ,i conclude1 that the idea of all infinite number of parts is individually the same idea with that of an infinite extension2 that no finite extension is capable of containing an infinite number of parts2 and consequently that no finite extension is infinitely divisible4#a #a ,it has been objected to me1 that infinite divisibility supposes only an infinite number of ,,proportional not of ,,aliqiot parts1 and that an infinite number of proportional parts does not form an infinite extension4 ,but this distinction is entirely frivolous4 ,whether these parts be calld ,,aliquot or ,,proportional1 they cannot be inferior to those minute parts we conceive2 and therefore cannot form a less extension by their conjunction4 ,i may subjoin another argument proposed by a noted author1#b which seems to me very strong and beautiful4 ,it is evident1 that existence in itself belongs only to unity1 and is never applicable to number1 but on account of the unites1 of which the number is composed4 ,twenty men may be said to exist2 but it is only because one1 two1 three1 four1 c4 are existent1 and if you deny the existence of the latter1 that of the former falls of course4 ,it is therefore utterly absurd to suppose any number to exist1 and yet deny the existence of unites2 and as extension is always a number1 according to the common sentiment of metaphysicians1 and never resolves itself into any unite or indivisible quantity1 it follows1 that extension can never at all exist4 ,it is in vain to reply1 that any determinate quantity of extension is an unite2 but such-a-one as admits of an infinite number of fractions1 and is inexhaustible in its sub-divisions4 ,for by the same rule these twenty men may be considered as a unit4 ,the whole globe of the earth1 nay the whole universe1 may be considered as a unit4 ,that term of unity is merely a fictitious denomination1 which the mind may apply to any quantity of objects it collects together2 nor can such an unity any more exist alone than number can1 as being in reality a true number4 ,but the unity1 which can exist alone1 and whose existence is necessary to that of all number1 is of another kind1 and must be perfectly indivisible1 and incapable of being resolved into any lesser unity4 #b ,mons4 ,,malezieu ,all this reasoning takes place with regard to time2 along with an additional argument1 which it may be proper to take notice of4 ,it is a property inseparable from time1 and which in a manner constitutes its essence1 that each of its parts succeeds another1 and that none of them1 however contiguous1 can ever be co-existent4 ,for the same reason1 that the year #agcg cannot concur with the present year #agch every moment must be distinct from1 and posterior or antecedent to another4 ,it is certain then1 that time1 as it exists1 must be composed of indivisible moments4 ,for if in time we could never arrive at an end of division1 and if each moment1 as it succeeds another1 were not perfectly single and indivisible1 there would be an infinite number of co-existent moments1 or parts of time2 which ,i believe will be allowed to be an arrant contradiction4 ,the infinite divisibility of space implies that of time1 as is evident from the nature of motion4 ,if the latter1 therefore1 be impossible1 the former must be equally so4 ,i doubt not but1 it will readily be allowed by the most obstinate defender of the doctrine of infinite divisibility1 that these arguments are difficulties1 and that it is impossible to give any answer to them which will be perfectly clear and satisfactory4 ,but here we may observe1 that nothing can be more absurd1 than this custom of calling a difficulty what pretends to be a demonstration1 and endeavouring by that means to elude its force and evidence4 ,it is not in demonstrations as in probabilities1 that difficulties can take place1 and one argument counter-ballance another1 and diminish its authority4 ,a demonstration1 if just1 admits of no opposite difficulty2 and if not just1 it is a mere sophism1 and consequently can never be a difficulty4 ,it is either irresistible1 or has no manner of force4 ,to talk therefore of objections and replies1 and ballancing of arguments in such a question as this1 is to confess1 either that human reason is nothing but a play of words1 or that the person himself1 who talks so1 has not a ,capacity equal to such subjects4 ,demonstrations may be difficult to be comprehended1 because of abstractedness of the subject2 but can never have such difficulties as will weaken their authority1 when once they are comprehended4 ,it is true1 mathematicians are wont to say1 that there are here equally strong arguments on the other side of the question1 and that the doctrine of indivisible points is also liable to unanswerable objections4 ,before ,i examine these arguments and objections in detail1 ,i will here take them in a body1 and endeavour by a short and decisive reason to prove at once1 that it is utterly impossible they can have any just foundation4 ,it is an established maxim in metaphysics1 ,that whatever the mind clearly conceives1 includes the idea of possible existence1 or in other words1 that nothing we imagine is absolutely impossible4 ,we can form the idea of a golden mountain1 and from thence conclude that such a mountain may actually exist4 ,we can form no idea of a mountain without a valley1 and therefore regard it as impossible4 ,now it is certain we have an idea of extension2 for otherwise why do we talk and reason concerning it8 ,it is likewise certain that this idea1 as conceived by the imagination1 though divisible into parts or inferior ideas1 is not infinitely divisible1 nor consists of an infinite number of parts3 ,for that exceeds the comprehension of our limited capacities4 ,here then is an idea of extension1 which consists of parts or inferior ideas1 that are perfectly1 indivisible3 consequently this idea implies no contradiction3 consequently it is possible for extension really to exist conformable to it3 and consequently all the arguments employed against the possibility of mathematical points are mere scholastick quibbles1 and unworthy of our attention4 ,these consequences we may carry one step farther1 and conclude that all the pretended demonstrations for the infinite divisibility of extension are equally sophistical2 since it is certain these demonstrations cannot be just without proving the impossibility of mathematical points2 which it is an evident absurdity to pretend to4 ,,sect4 ,,iii4 ,,of ,,the ,,other ,,qualities ,,of ,,our ,,idea ,,of ,,space ,,and ,,time4 ,no discovery could have been made more happily for deciding all controversies concerning ideas1 than that abovementioned1 that impressions always take the precedency of them1 and that every idea1 with which the imagination is furnished1 first makes its appearance in a correspondent impression4 ,these latter perceptions are all so clear and evident1 that they admit of no controversy2 though many of our ideas are so obscure1 that it is almost impossible even for the mind1 which forms them1 to tell exactly their nature and composition4 ,let us apply this principle1 in order to discover farther the nature of our ideas of space and time4 ,upon opening my eyes1 and turning them to the surrounding objects1 ,i perceive many visible bodies2 and upon shutting them again1 and considering the distance betwixt these bodies1 ,i acquire the idea of extension4 ,as every idea is derived from some impression1 which is exactly similar to it1 the impressions similar to this idea of extension1 must either be some sensations derived from the sight1 or some internal impressions arising from these sensations4 ,our internal impressions are our passions1 emotions1 desires and aversions2 none of which1 ,i believe1 will ever be asserted to be the model1 from which the idea of space is derived4 ,there remains therefore nothing but the senses1 which can convey to us this original impression4 ,now what impression do oar senses here convey to us8 ,this is the principal question1 and decides without appeal concerning the nature of the idea4 ,the table before me is alone sufficient by its view to give me the idea of extension4 ,this idea1 then1 is borrowed from1 and represents some impression1 which this moment appears to the senses4 ,but my senses convey to me only the impressions of coloured points1 disposed in a certain manner4 ,if the eye is sensible of any thing farther1 ,i desire it may be pointed out to me4 ,but if it be impossible to shew any thing farther1 we may conclude with certainty1 that the idea of extension is nothing but a copy of these coloured points1 and of the manner of their appearance4 ,suppose that in the extended object1 or composition of coloured points1 from which we first received the idea of extension1 the points were of a purple colour2 it follows1 that in every repetition of that idea we would not only place the points in the same order with respect to each other1 but also bestow on them that precise colour1 with which alone we are acquainted4 ,but afterwards having experience of the other colours of violet1 green1 red1 white1 black1 and of all the different compositions of these1 and finding a resemblance in the disposition of coloured points1 of which they are composed1 we omit the peculiarities of colour1 as far as possible1 and found an abstract idea merely on that disposition of points1 or manner of appearance1 in which they agree4 ,nay even when the resemblance is carryed beyond the objects of one sense1 and the impressions of touch are found to be ,similar to those of sight in the disposition of their parts2 this does not hinder the abstract idea from representing both1 upon account of their resemblance4 ,all abstract ideas are really nothing but particular ones1 considered in a certain light2 but being annexed to general terms1 they are able to represent a vast variety1 and to comprehend objects1 which1 as they are alike in some particulars1 are in others vastly wide of each other4 ,the idea of time1 being derived from the succession of our perceptions of every kind1 ideas as well as impressions1 and impressions of reflection as well as of sensations will afford us an instance of an abstract idea1 which comprehends a still greater variety than that of space1 and yet is represented in the fancy by some particular individual idea of a determinate quantity and quality4 ,as it is from the disposition of visible and tangible objects we receive the idea of space1 so from the succession of ideas and impressions we form the idea of time1 nor is it possible for time alone ever to make its appearance1 or be taken notice of by the mind4 ,a man in a sound sleep1 or strongly occupyed with one thought1 is insensible of time2 and according as his perceptions succeed each other with greater or less rapidity1 the same duration appears longer or shorter to his imagination4 ,it has been remarked by a great philosopher1 that our perceptions have certain bounds in this particular1 which are fixed by the original nature and constitution of the mind1 and beyond which no influence of external objects on the senses is ever able to hasten or retard our thought4 ,if you wheel about a burning coal with rapidity1 it will present to the senses an image of a circle of fire2 nor will there seem to be any interval of time betwixt its revolutions2 meerly because it is impossible for our perceptions to succeed each other with the same rapidity1 that motion may be communicated to external objects4 ,wherever we have no successive perceptions1 we have no notion of time1 even though there be a real succession in the objects4 ,from these phenomena1 as well as from many others1 we may conclude1 that time cannot make its appearance to the mind1 either alone1 or attended with a steady unchangeable object1 but is always discovered some ,,perceivable succession of changeable objects4 ,to confirm this we may add the following argument1 which to me seems perfectly decisive and convincing4 ,it is evident1 that time or duration consists of different parts3 ,for otherwise we could not conceive a longer or shorter duration4 ,it is also evident1 that these parts are not co-existent3 ,for that quality of the co-existence of parts belongs to extension1 and is what distinguishes it from duration4 ,now as time is composed of parts1 that are not coexistent3 an unchangeable object1 since it produces none but coexistent impressions1 produces none that can give us the idea of time2 and consequently that idea must be derived from a succession of changeable objects1 and time in its first appearance can never be severed from such a succession4 ,having therefore found1 that time in its first appearance to the mind is always conjoined with a succession of changeable objects1 and that otherwise it can never fall under our notice1 we must now examine whether it can be conceived without our conceiving any succession of objects1 and whether it can alone form a distinct idea in the imagination4 ,in order to know whether any objects1 which are joined in impression1 be inseparable in idea1 we need only consider1 if they be different from each other2 in which case1 it is plain they may be conceived apart4 ,every thing1 that is different is distinguishable3 and everything1 that is distinguishable1 may be separated1 according to the maxims above-explained4 ,if on the contrary they be not different1 they are not distinguishable3 and if they be not distinguishable1 they cannot be separated4 ,but this is precisely the case with respect to time1 compared with our successive perceptions4 ,the idea of time is not derived from a particular impression mixed up with others1 and plainly distinguishable from them2 but arises altogether from the manner1 in which impressions appear to the mind1 without making one of the number4 ,five notes played on a flute give us the impression and idea of time2 though time be not a sixth impression1 which presents itself to the hearing or any other of the senses4 ,nor is it a sixth impression1 which the mind by reflection finds in itself4 ,these five sounds making their appearance in this particular manner1 excite no emotion in the mind1 nor produce an affection of any kind1 which being observed by it can give rise to a new idea4 ,for that is necessary to produce a new idea of reflection1 nor can the mind1 by revolving over a thousand times all its ideas of sensation1 ever extract from them any new original idea1 unless nature has so framed its faculties1 that it feels some new original impression arise from such a contemplation4 ,but here it only takes notice of the manner1 in which the different sounds make their appearance2 and that it may afterwards consider without considering these particular sounds1 but may conjoin it with any other objects4 ,the ideas of some objects it certainly must have1 nor is it possible for it without these ideas ever to arrive at any conception of time2 which since it1 appears not as any primary distinct impression1 can plainly be nothing but different ideas1 or impressions1 or objects disposed in a certain manner1 that is1 succeeding each other4 ,i know there are some who pretend1 that the idea of duration is applicable in a proper sense to objects1 which are perfectly unchangeable2 and this ,i take to be the common opinion of philosophers as well as of the vulgar4 ,but to be convinced of its falsehood we need but reflect on the foregoing conclusion1 that the idea of duration is always derived from a succession of changeable objects1 and can never be conveyed to the mind by any thing stedfast and unchangeable4 ,for it inevitably follows from thence1 that since the idea of duration cannot be derived from such an object1 it can never-in any propriety or exactness be applied to it1 nor can any thing unchangeable be ever said to have duration4 ,ideas always represent the ,objects or impressions1 from which they are derived1 and can never without a fiction represent or be applied to any other4 ,by what fiction we apply the idea of time1 even to what is unchangeable1 and suppose1 as is common1 that duration is a measure of rest as well as of motion1 we shall consider afterwards4#c #c ,sect #e4 ,there is another very decisive argument1 which establishes the present doctrine concerning our ideas of space and time1 and is founded only on that simple principle1 that our ideas of them are compounded of parts1 which are indivisible4 ,this argument may be worth the examining4 ,every idea1 that is distinguishable1 being also separable1 let us take one of those simple indivisible ideas1 of which the compound one of extension is formed1 and separating it from all others1 and considering it apart1 let us form a judgment of its nature and qualities4 ,it is plain it is not the idea of extension4 ,for the idea of extension consists of parts2 and this idea1 according to the supposition1 is perfectly simple and indivisible4 ,is it therefore nothing8 ,that is absolutely impossible4 ,for as the compound idea of extension1 which is real1 is composed of such ideas2 were these so many non-entities1 there would be a real existence composed of non-entities2 which is absurd4 ,here therefore ,i must ask1 ,what is our idea of a simple and indivisible point8 ,no wonder if my answer appear somewhat new1 since the question itself has scarce ever yet been thought of4 ,we are wont to dispute concerning the nature of mathematical points1 but seldom concerning the nature of their ideas4 ,the idea of space is conveyed to the mind by two senses1 the sight and touch2 nor does anything ever appear extended1 that is not either visible or tangible4 ,that compound impression1 which represents extension1 consists of several lesser impressions1 that are indivisible to the eye or feeling1 and may be called impressions of atoms or corpuscles endowed with colour and solidity4 ,but this is not all4 ,it is not only requisite1 that these atoms should be coloured or tangible1 in order to discover themselves to our senses2 it is also necessary we should preserve the idea of their colour or tangibility in order to comprehend them by our imagination4 ,there is nothing but the idea of their colour or tangibility1 which can render them conceivable by the mind4 ,upon the removal of the ideas of these sensible qualities1 they are utterly annihilated to the thought or imagination4 ,now such as the parts are1 such is the whole4 ,if a point be not considered as coloured or tangible1 it can convey to us no idea2 and consequently the idea of extension1 which is composed of the ideas of these points1 can never possibly exist4 ,but if the idea of extension really can exist1 as we are conscious it does1 its parts must also exist2 and in order to that1 must be considered as coloured or tangible4 ,we have therefore no idea of space or extension1 but when we regard it as an object either of our sight or feeling4 ,the same reasoning will prove1 that the indivisible moments of time must be filled with some real object or existence1 whose succession forms the duration1 and makes it be conceivable by the mind4 ,,sect4 ,,iv4 ,,objections ,,answered4 ,our system concerning space and time consists of two parts1 which are intimately connected together4 ,the first depends on this chain of reasoning4 ,the capacity of the mind is not infinite2 consequently no idea of extension or duration consists of an infinite number of parts or inferior ideas1 but of a finite number1 and these simple and indivisible3 ,it is therefore possible for space and time to exist conformable to this idea3 ,and if it be possible1 it is certain they actually do exist conformable to it2 since their infinite divisibility is utterly impossible and contradictory4 ,the other part of our system is a consequence of this4 ,the parts1 into which the ideas of space and time resolve themselves1 become at last indivisible2 and these indivisible parts1 being nothing in themselves1 are inconceivable when not filled with something real and existent4 ,the ideas of space and time are therefore no separate or distinct ideas1 but merely those of the manner or order1 in which objects exist3 ,or in other words1 it is impossible to conceive either a vacuum and extension without matter1 or a time1 when there was no succession or change in any real existence4 ,the intimate connexion betwixt these parts of our system is the reason why we shall examine together the objections1 which have been urged against both of them1 beginning with those against the finite divisibility of extension4 ,i4 ,the first of these objections1 which ,i shall take notice of1 is more proper to prove this connexion and dependence of the one part upon the other1 than to destroy either of them4 ,it has often been maintained in the schools1 that extension must be divisible1 in infinitum1 because the system of mathematical points is absurd2 and that system is absurd1 because a mathematical point is a non-entity1 and consequently can never by its conjunction with others form a real existence4 ,this would be perfectly decisive1 were there no medium betwixt the infinite divisibility of matter1 and the non-entity of mathematical points4 ,but there is evidently a medium1 viz4 the bestowing a colour or solidity on these points2 and the absurdity of both the extremes is a demonstration of the truth and reality of this medium4 ,the system of physical points1 which is another medium1 is too absurd to need a refutation4 ,a real extension1 such as a physical point is supposed to be1 can never exist without parts1 different from each other2 and wherever objects are different1 they are distinguishable and separable by the imagination4 ,,ii4 ,the second objection is derived from the necessity there would be of ,,penetration1 if extension consisted of mathematical points4 ,a simple and indivisible atom1 that touches another1 must necessarily penetrate it2 for it is impossible it can touch it by its external parts1 from the very supposition of its perfect simplicity1 which excludes all parts4 ,it must therefore touch it intimately1 and in its whole essence1 ,,secundum ,,se1 ,,tota1 ,,et ,,totaliter2 which is the very definition of penetration4 ,but penetration is impossible3 ,mathematical points are of consequence equally impossible4 ,i answer this objection by substituting a juster idea of penetration4 ,suppose two bodies containing no void within their circumference1 to approach each other1 and to unite in such a manner that the body1 which results from their union1 is no more extended than either of them2 it is this we must mean when we talk of penetration4 ,but it is evident this penetration is nothing but the annihilation of one of these bodies1 and the preservation of the other1 without our being able to distinguish particularly which is preserved and which annihilated4 ,before the approach we have the idea of two bodies4 ,after it we have the idea only of one4 ,it is impossible for the mind to preserve any notion of difference betwixt two bodies of the same nature existing in the same place at the same time4 ,taking then penetration in this sense1 for the annihilation of one body upon its approach to another1 ,i ask any one1 if he sees a necessity1 that a coloured or tangible point should be annihilated upon the approach of another coloured or tangible point8 ,on the contrary1 does he not evidently perceive1 that from the union of these points there results an object1 which is compounded and divisible1 and may be distinguished into two parts1 of which each preserves its existence distinct and separate1 notwithstanding its contiguity to the other8 ,let him aid his fancy by conceiving these points to be of different colours1 the better to prevent their coalition and confusion4 ,a blue and a red point may surely lie contiguous without any penetration or annihilation4 ,for if they cannot1 what possibly can become of them8 ,whether shall the red or the blue be annihilated8 ,or if these colours unite into one1 what new colour will they produce by their union8 ,what chiefly gives rise to these objections1 and at the same time renders it so difficult to give a satisfactory answer to them1 is the natural infirmity and unsteadiness both of our imagination and senses1 when employed on such minute objects4 ,put a spot of ink upon paper1 and retire to such a distance1 that the spot becomes altogether invisible2 you will find1 that upon your return and nearer approach the spot first becomes visible by short intervals2 and afterwards becomes always visible2 and afterwards acquires only a new force in its colouring without augmenting its bulk2 and afterwards1 when it has encreased to such a degree as to be really extended1 it is still difficult for the imagination to break it into its component parts1 because of the uneasiness it finds in the conception of such a minute object as a single point4 ,this infirmity affects most of our reasonings on the present subject1 and makes it almost impossible to answer in an intelligible manner1 and in proper expressions1 many questions which may arise concerning it4 ,,iii4 ,there have been many objections drawn from the mathematics against the indivisibility of the parts of extension3 though at first sight that science seems rather favourable to the present doctrine2 and if it be contrary in its ,,demonstrations1 it is perfectly conformable in its definitions4 ,my present business then must be to defend the definitions1 and refute the demonstrations4 ,a surface is ,d,e,f,i,ned to be length and breadth without depth3 ,a line to be length without breadth or depth3 ,a point to be what has neither length1 breadth nor depth4 ,it is evident that all this is perfectly unintelligible upon any other supposition than that of the composition of extension by indivisible points or atoms4 ,how else could any thing exist without length1 without breadth1 or without depth8 ,two different answers1 ,i find1 have been made to this argument2 neither of which is in my opinion satisfactory4 ,the first is1 that the objects of geometry1 those surfaces1 lines and points1 whose proportions and positions it examines1 are mere ideas in the mind2 and not only never did1 but never can exist in nature4 ,they never did exist2 for no one will pretend to draw a line or make a surface entirely conformable to the definition3 ,they never can exist2 for we may produce demonstrations from these very ideas to prove1 that they are impossible4 ,but can anything be imagined more absurd and contradictory than this reasoning8 ,whatever can be conceived by a clear and distinct idea necessarily implies the possibility of existence2 and he who pretends to prove the impossibility of its existence by any argument derived from the clear idea1 in reality asserts1 that we have no clear idea of it1 because we have a clear idea4 ,it is in vain to search for a contradiction in any thing that is distinctly conceived by the mind4 ,did it imply any contradiction1 it is impossible it could ever be conceived4 ,there is therefore no medium betwixt allowing at least the possibility of indivisible points1 and denying their idea2 and it is on this latter principle1 that the second answer to the foregoing argument is founded4 ,it has been#d pretended1 that though it be impossible to conceive a length without any breadth1 yet by an abstraction without a separation1 we can consider the one without regarding the other2 in the same manner as we may think of the length of the way betwixt two towns1 and overlook its breadth4 ,the length is inseparable from the breadth both in nature and in our minds2 but this excludes not a partial consideration1 and a distinction of reason1 after the manner above explained4 #d ,l',art de penser4 ,in refuting this answer ,i shall not insist on the argument1 which ,i have already sufficiently explained1 that if it be impossible for the mind to arrive at a minimum in its ideas1 its capacity must be infinite1 in order to comprehend the infinite number of parts1 of which its idea of any extension would be composed4 ,i shall here endeavour to find some new absurdities in this reasoning4 ,a surface terminates a solid2 a line terminates a surface2 a point terminates a line2 but ,i assert1 that if the ideas of a point1 line or surface were not indivisible1 it is impossible we should ever conceive these terminations3 ,for let these ideas be supposed infinitely divisible2 and then let the fancy endeavour to fix itself on the idea of the last surface1 line or point2 it immediately finds this idea to break into parts2 and upon its seizing the last of these parts1 it loses its hold by a new division1 and so on in infinitum1 without any possibility of its arriving at a concluding idea4 ,the number of fractions bring it no nearer the last division1 than the first idea it formed4 ,every particle eludes the grasp by a new fraction2 like quicksilver1 when we endeavour to seize it4 ,but as in fact there must be something1 which terminates the idea of every finite quantity2 and as this terminating idea cannot itself consist of parts or inferior ideas2 otherwise it would be the last of its parts1 which finished the idea1 and so on2 this is a clear proof1 that the ideas of surfaces1 lines and points admit not of any division2 those of surfaces in depth2 of lines in breadth and depth2 and of points in any dimension4 ,the school were so sensible of the force of this argument1 that some of them maintained1 that nature has mixed among those particles of matter1 which are divisible in infinitum1 a number of mathematical points1 in order to give a termination to bodies2 and others eluded the force of this reasoning by a heap of unintelligible cavils and distinctions4 ,both these adversaries equally yield the victory4 ,a man who hides himself1 confesses as evidently the superiority of his enemy1 as another1 who fairly delivers his arms4 ,thus it appears1 that the definitions of mathematics destroy the pretended demonstrations2 and that if we have the idea of indivisible points1 lines and surfaces conformable to the definition1 their existence is certainly possible3 but if we have no such idea1 it is impossible we can ever conceive the termination of any figure2 without which conception there can be no geometrical demonstration4 ,but ,i go farther1 and maintain1 that none of these demonstrations can have sufficient weight to establish such a principle1 as this of infinite divisibility2 and that because with regard to such minute objects1 they are not properly demonstrations1 being built on ideas1 which are not exact1 and maxims1 which are not precisely true4 ,when geometry decides anything concerning the proportions of quantity1 we ought not to look for the utmost precision and exactness4 ,none of its proofs extend so far4 ,it takes the dimensions and proportions of figures justly2 but roughly1 and with some liberty4 ,its errors are never considerable2 nor would it err at all1 did it not aspire to such an absolute perfection4 ,i first ask mathematicians1 what they mean when they say one line or surface is ,,equal to1 or ,,greater or ,,less than another8 ,let any of them give an answer1 to whatever sect he belongs1 and whether he maintains the composition of extension by indivisible points1 or by quantities divisible in infinitum4 ,this question will embarrass both of them4 ,there are few or no mathematicians1 who defend the hypothesis of indivisible points2 and yet these have the readiest and justest answer to the present question4 ,they need only reply1 that lines or surfaces are equal1 when the numbers of points in each are equal2 and that as the proportion of the numbers varies1 the proportion of the lines and surfaces is also varyed4 ,but though this answer be just1 as well as obvious2 yet ,i may affirm1 that this standard of equality is entirely useless1 and that it never is from such a comparison we determine objects to be equal or unequal with respect to each other4 ,for as the points1 which enter into the composition of any line or surface1 whether perceived by the sight or touch1 are so minute and so confounded with each other1 that it is utterly impossible for the mind to compute their number1 such a computation will ,never afford us a standard by which we may judge of proportions4 ,no one will ever be able to determine by an exact numeration1 that an inch has fewer points than a foot1 or a foot fewer than an ell or any greater measure3 for which reason we seldom or never consider this as the standard of equality or inequality4 ,as to those1 who imagine1 that extension is divisible in infinitum1 it is impossible they can make use of this answer1 or fix the equality of any line or surface by a numeration of its component parts4 ,for since1 according to their hypothesis1 the least as well as greatest figures contain an infinite number of parts2 and since infinite numbers1 properly speaking1 can neither be equal nor unequal with respect to each other2 the equality or inequality of any portions of space can never depend on any proportion in the number of their parts4 ,it is true1 it may be said1 that the inequality of an ell and a yard consists in the different numbers of the feet1 of which they are composed2 and that of a foot and a yard in the number of the inches4 ,but as that quantity we call an inch in the one is supposed equal to what we call an inch in the other1 and as it is impossible for the mind to find this equality by proceeding in infinitum with these references to inferior quantities3 it is evident1 that at last we must fix some standard of equality different from an enumeration of the parts4 ,there are some#e1 who pretend1 that equality is best defined by congruity1 and that any two figures are equal1 when upon the placing of one upon the other1 all their parts correspond to and touch each other4 ,in order to judge of this definition let us consider1 that since equality is a relation1 it is not1 strictly speaking1 a property in the figures themselves1 but arises merely from the comparison1 which the mind makes betwixt them4 ,if it consists1 therefore1 in this imaginary application and mutual contact of parts1 we must at least have a distinct notion of these parts1 and must conceive their contact4 ,now it is plain1 that in this conception we would run up these parts to the greatest minuteness1 which can possibly be conceived2 since the contact of large parts would never render the figures equal4 ,but the minutest parts we can conceive are mathematical points2 and consequently this standard of equality is the same with that derived from the equality of the number of points2 which we have already determined to be a just but an useless standard4 ,we must therefore look to some other quarter for a solution of the present difficulty4 #e ,see ,dr4 ,barrow's mathematical lectures4 ,there are many philosophers1 who refuse to assign any standard of equality1 but assert1 that it is sufficient to present two objects1 that are equal1 in order to give us a just notion of this proportion4 ,all definitions1 say they1 are fruitless1 without the perception of such objects2 and where we perceive such objects1 we no longer stand in need of any definition4 ,to this reasoning1 ,i entirely agree2 and assert1 that the only useful notion of equality1 or inequality1 is derived from the whole united appearance and the comparison of particular objects4 ,it is evident1 that the eye1 or rather the mind is often able at one view to determine the proportions of bodies1 and pronounce them equal to1 or greater or less than each other1 without examining or comparing the number of their minute parts4 ,such judgments are not only common1 but in many cases certain and infallible4 ,when the measure of a yard and that of a foot are presented1 the mind can no more question1 that the first is longer than the second1 than it can doubt of those principles1 which are the most clear and self-evident4 ,there are therefore three proportions1 which the mind distinguishes in the general appearance of its objects1 and calls by the names of greater1 less and equal4 ,but though its decisions concerning these proportions be sometimes infallible1 they are not always so2 nor are our judgments of this kind more exempt from doubt and error than those on any other subject4 ,we frequently correct our first opinion by a review and reflection2 and pronounce those objects to be equal1 which at first we esteemed unequal2 and regard an object as less1 though before it appeared greater than another4 ,nor is this the only correction1 which these judgments of our senses undergo2 but we often discover our error by a juxtaposition of the objects2 or where that is impracticable1 by the use of some common and invariable measure1 which being successively applied to each1 informs us of their different proportions4 ,and even this correction is susceptible of a new correction1 and of different degrees of exactness1 according to the nature of the instrument1 by which we measure the bodies1 and the care which we employ in the comparison4 ,when therefore the mind is accustomed to these judgments and their corrections1 and finds that the same proportion which makes two figures have in the eye that appearance1 which we call equality1 makes them also correspond to each other1 and to any common measure1 with which they are compared1 we form a mixed notion of equality derived both from the looser and stricter methods of comparison4 ,but we are not content with this4 ,for as sound reason convinces us that there are bodies vastly more minute than those1 which appear to the senses2 and as a false reason would perswade us1 that there are bodies infinitely more minute2 we clearly perceive1 that we are not possessed of any instrument or art of measuring1 which can secure us from ill error and uncertainty4 ,we are sensible1 that the addition or removal of one of these minute parts1 is not discernible either in the appearance or measuring2 and as we imagine1 that two figures1 which were equal before1 cannot be equal after this removal or addition1 we therefore suppose some imaginary standard of equality1 by which the appearances and measuring are exactly corrected1 and the figures reduced entirely to that proportion4 ,this standard is plainly imaginary4 ,for as the very idea of equality is that of such a particular appearance corrected by juxtaposition or a common measure4 ,the notion of any correction beyond what we have instruments and art to make1 is a mere fiction of the mind1 and useless as well as incomprehensible4 ,but though this standard be only imaginary1 the fiction however is very natural2 nor is anything more usual1 than for the mind to proceed after this manner with any action1 even after the reason has ceased1 which first determined it to begin4 ,this appears very conspicuously with regard to time2 where though it is evident we have no exact method of determining the proportions of parts1 not even so exact as in extension1 yet the various corrections of our measures1 and their different degrees of exactness1 have given as an obscure and implicit notion of a perfect and entire equality4 ,the case is the same in many other subjects4 ,a musician finding his ear becoming every day more delicate1 and correcting himself by reflection and attention1 proceeds with the same act of the mind1 even when the subject fails him1 and entertains a notion of a compleat ,,tierce or ,,octave1 without being able to tell whence he derives his standard4 ,a painter forms the same fiction with regard to colours4 ,a mechanic with regard to motion4 ,to the one light and shade2 to the other swift and slow are imagined to be capable of an exact comparison and equality beyond the judgments of the senses4 ,we may apply the same reasoning to ,,curve and ,,right lines4 ,nothing is more apparent to the senses1 than the distinction betwixt a curve and a right line2 nor are there any ideas we more easily form than the ideas of these objects4 ,but however easily we may form these ideas1 it is impossible to produce any definition of them1 which will fix the precise boundaries betwixt them4 ,when we draw lines upon paper1 or any continued surface1 there is a certain order1 by which the lines run along from one point to another1 that they may produce the entire impression of a curve or right line2 but this order is perfectly unknown1 and nothing is observed but the united appearance4 ,thus even upon the system of indivisible points1 we can only form a distant notion of some unknown standard to these objects4 ,upon that of infinite divisibility we cannot go even this length2 but are reduced meerly to the general appearance1 as the rule by which we determine lines to be either curve or right ones4 ,but though we can give no perfect definition of these lines1 nor produce any very exact method of distinguishing the one from the other2 yet this hinders us not from correcting the first appearance by a more accurate consideration1 and by a comparison with some rule1 of whose rectitude from repeated trials we have a greater assurance4 ,and it is from these corrections1 and by carrying on the same action of the mind1 even when its reason fails us1 that we form the loose idea of a perfect standard to these figures1 without being able to explain or comprehend it4 ,it is true1 mathematicians pretend they give an exact definition of a right line1 when they say1 it is the shortest way betwixt two points4 ,but in the first place ,i observe1 that this is more properly the discovery of one of the properties of a right line1 than a just deflation of it4 ,for ,i ask any one1 if upon mention of a right line he thinks not immediately on such a particular appearance1 and if it is not by accident only that he considers this property8 ,a right line can be comprehended alone2 but this definition is unintelligible without a comparison with other lines1 which we conceive to be more extended4 ,in common life it is established as a maxim1 that the straightest way is always the shortest2 which would be as absurd as to say1 the shortest way is always the shortest1 if our idea of a right line was not different from that of the shortest way betwixt two points4 ,secondly1 ,i repeat what ,i have already established1 that we have no precise idea of equality and inequality1 shorter and longer1 more than of a right line or a curve2 and consequently that the one can never afford us a perfect standard for the other4 ,an exact idea can never be built on such as are loose and undetermined4 ,the idea of a plain surface is as little susceptible of a precise standard as that of a right line2 nor have we any other means of distinguishing such a surface1 than its general appearance4 ,it is in vain1 that mathematicians represent a plain surface as produced by the flowing of a right line4 ,it will immediately be objected1 that our idea of a surface is as independent of this method of forming a surface1 as our idea of an ellipse is of that of a cone2 that the idea of a right line is no more precise than that of a plain surface2 that a right line may flow irregularly1 and by that means form a figure quite different from a plane2 and that therefore we must suppose it to flow along two right lines1 parallel to each other1 and on the same plane2 which is a description1 that explains a thing by itself1 and returns in a circle4 ,it appears1 then1 that the ideas which are most essential to geometry1 viz4 those of equality and inequality1 of a right line and a plain surface1 are far from being exact and determinate1 according to our common method of conceiving them4 ,not only we are incapable of telling1 if the case be in any degree doubtful1 when such particular figures are equal2 when such a line is a right one1 and such a surface a plain one2 but we can form no idea of that proportion1 or of these figures1 which is firm and invariable4 ,our appeal is still to the weak and fallible judgment1 which we make from the appearance of the objects1 and correct by a compass or common measure2 and if we join the supposition of any farther correction1 it is of such-a-one as is either useless or imaginary4 ,in vain should we have recourse to the common topic1 and employ the supposition of a deity1 whose omnipotence may enable him to form a perfect geometrical figure1 and describe a right line without any curve or inflexion4 ,as the ultimate standard of these figures is derived from nothing but the senses and imagination1 it is absurd to talk of any perfection beyond what these faculties can judge of2 since the true perfection of any thing consists in its conformity to its standard4 ,now since these ideas are so loose and uncertain1 ,i would fain ask any mathematician what infallible assurance he has1 not only of the more intricate1 and obscure propositions of his science1 but of the most vulgar and obvious principles8 ,how can he prove to me1 for instance1 that two right lines cannot have one common segment8 ,or that it is impossible to draw more than one right line betwixt any two points8 should he tell me1 that these opinions are obviously absurd1 and repugnant to our clear ideas2 ,i would answer1 that ,i do not deny1 where two right lines incline upon each other with a sensible angle1 but it is absurd to imagine them to have a common segment4 ,but supposing these two lines to approach at the rate of an inch in twenty leagues1 ,i perceive no absurdity in asserting1 that upon their contact they become one4 ,for1 ,i beseech you1 by what rule or standard do you judge1 when you assert1 that the line1 in which ,i have supposed them to concur1 cannot make the same right line with those two1 that form so small an angle betwixt them8 ,you must surely have some idea of a right line1 to which this line does not agree4 ,do you therefore mean that it takes not the points in the same order and by the same rule1 as is peculiar and essential to a right line8 ,if so1 ,i must inform you1 that besides that in judging after this manner you allow1 that extension is composed of indivisible points 7which1 perhaps1 is more than you intend7 besides this1 ,i say1 ,i must inform you1 that neither is this the standard from which we form the idea of a right line2 nor1 if it were1 is there any such firmness in our senses or imagination1 as to determine when such an order is violated or preserved4 ,the original standard of a right line is in reality nothing but a certain general appearance2 and it is evident right lines may be made to concur with each other1 and yet correspond to this standard1 though corrected by all the means either practicable or imaginable4 ,to whatever side mathematicians turn1 this dilemma still meets them4 ,if they judge of equality1 or any other proportion1 by the accurate and exact standard1 viz4 the enumeration of the minute indivisible parts1 they both employ a standard1 which is useless in practice1 and actually establish the indivisibility of extension1 which they endeavour to explode4 ,or if they employ1 as is usual1 the inaccurate standard1 derived from a comparison of objects1 upon their general appearance1 corrected by measuring and juxtaposition2 their first principles1 though certain and infallible1 are too coarse to afford any such subtile inferences as they commonly draw from them4 ,the first principles are founded on the imagination and senses3 ,the conclusion1 therefore1 can never go beyond1 much less contradict these faculties4 ,this may open our eyes a little1 and let us see1 that no geometrical demonstration for the infinite divisibility of extension can have so much force as what we naturally attribute to every argument1 which is supported by such magnificent pretensions4 ,at the same time we may learn the reason1 why geometry falls of evidence in this single point1 while all its other reasonings command our fullest assent and approbation4 ,and indeed it seems more requisite to give the reason of this exception1 than to shew1 that we really must make such an exception1 and regard all the mathematical arguments for infinite divisibility as utterly sophistical4 ,for it is evident1 that as no idea of quantity is infinitely divisible1 there cannot be imagined a more glaring absurdity1 than to endeavour to prove1 that quantity itself admits of such a division2 and to prove this by means of ideas1 which are directly opposite in that particular4 ,and as this absurdity is very glaring in itself1 so there is no argument founded on it which is not attended with a new absurdity1 and involves not an evident contradiction4 ,i might give as instances those arguments for infinite divisibility1 which are derived from the point of contact4 ,i know there is no mathematician1 who will not refuse to be judged by the diagrams he describes upon paper1 these being loose draughts1 as he will tell us1 and serving only to convey with greater facility certain ideas1 which are the true foundation of all our reasoning4 ,this ,i am satisfyed with1 and am willing to rest the controversy merely upon these ideas4 ,i desire therefore our mathematician to form1 as accurately as possible1 the ideas of a circle and a right line2 and ,i then ask1 if upon the conception of their contact he can conceive them as touching in a mathematical point1 or if he must necessarily imagine them to concur for some space4 ,whichever side he chuses1 he runs himself into equal difficulties4 ,if he affirms1 that in tracing these figures in his imagination1 he can imagine them to touch only in a point1 he allows the possibility of that idea1 and consequently of the thing4 ,if he says1 that in his conception of the contact of those lines he must make them concur1 he thereby acknowledges the fallacy of geometrical demonstrations1 when carryed beyond a certain degree of minuteness2 since it is certain he has such demonstrations against the concurrence of a circle and a right line2 that is1 in other words1 he can prove an idea1 viz4 that of concurrence1 to be ,,incompatible with two other ideas1 those of a circle and right line2 though at the same time he acknowledges these ideas to be inseparable4 ,,sect4 ,v4 ,,the ,,same ,,subject ,,continued4 ,if the second part of my system be true1 that the idea of space or extension is nothing but the idea of visible or tangible points distributed in a certain order2 it follows1 that we can form no idea of a vacuum1 or space1 where there is nothing visible or tangible4 ,this gives rise to three objections1 which ,i shall examine together1 because the answer ,i shall give to one is a consequence of that which ,i shall make use of for the others4 ,first1 ,it may be said1 that men have disputed for many ages concerning a vacuum and a plenum1 without being able to bring the affair to a final decision2 and philosophers1 even at this day1 think themselves at liberty to take part on either side1 as their fancy leads them4 ,but whatever foundation there may be for a controversy concerning the things themselves1 it may be pretended1 that the very dispute is decisive concerning the idea1 and that it is impossible men could so long reason about a vacuum1 and either refute or defend it1 without having a notion of what they refuted or defended4 ,secondly1 ,if this argument should be contested1 the reality or at least the possibility of the idea of a vacuum may be proved by the following reasoning4 ,every idea is possible1 which is a necessary and infallible consequence of such as are possible4 ,now though we allow the world to be at present a plenum1 we may easily conceive it to be deprived of motion2 and this idea will certainly be allowed possible4 ,it must also be allowed possible1 to conceive the annihilation of any part of matter by the omnipotence of the deity1 while the other parts remain at rest4 ,for as every idea1 that is distinguishable1 is separable by the imagination2 and as every idea1 that is separable by the imagination1 may be conceived to be separately existent2 it is evident1 that the existence of one particle of matter1 no more implies the existence of another1 than a square figure in one body implies a square figure in every one4 ,this being granted1 ,i now demand what results from the concurrence of these two possible ideas of rest and annihilation1 and what must we conceive to follow upon the annihilation of all the air and subtile matter in the chamber1 supposing the walls to remain the same1 without any motion or alteration8 ,there are some metaphysicians1 who answer1 that since matter and extension are the same1 the annihilation of one necessarily implies that of the other2 and there being now no distance betwixt the walls of the chamber1 they touch each other2 in the same manner as my hand touches the paper1 which is immediately before me4 ,but though this answer be very common1 ,i defy these metaphysicians to conceive the matter according to their hypothesis1 or imagine the floor and roof1 with all the opposite sides of the chamber1 to touch each other1 while they continue in rest1 and preserve the same position4 ,for how can the two walls1 that run from south to north1 touch each other1 while they touch the opposite ends of two walls1 that run from east to west8 ,and how can the floor and roof ever meet1 while they are separated by the four walls1 that lie in a contrary position8 ,if you change their position1 you suppose a motion4 ,if you conceive any thing betwixt them1 you suppose a new creation4 ,but keeping strictly to the two ideas of rest and annihilation1 it is evident1 that the idea1 which results from them1 is not that of a contact of parts1 but something else2 which is concluded to be the idea of a vacuum4 ,the third objection carries the matter still farther1 and not only asserts1 that the idea of a vacuum is real and possible1 but also necessary and unavoidable4 ,this assertion is founded on the motion we observe in bodies1 which1 it is maintained1 would be impossible and inconceivable without a vacuum1 into which one body must move in order to make way for another44 ,i shall not enlarge upon this objection1 because it principally belongs to natural philosophy1 which lies without our present sphere4 ,in order to answer these objections1 we must take the matter pretty deep1 and consider the nature and origin of several ideas1 lest we dispute without understanding perfectly the subject of the controversy4 ,it is evident the idea of darkness is no positive idea1 but merely the negation of light1 or more properly speaking1 of coloured and visible objects4 ,a man1 who enjoys his sight1 receives no other perception from turning his eyes on every side1 when entirely deprived of light1 than what is common to him with one born blind2 and it is certain such-a-one has no idea either of light or darkness4 ,the consequence of this is1 that it is not from the mere removal of visible objects we receive the impression of extension without matter2 and that the idea of utter darkness can never be the same with that of vacuum4 ,suppose again a man to be supported in the air1 and to be softly conveyed along by some invisible power2 it is evident he is sensible of nothing1 and never receives the idea of extension1 nor indeed any idea1 from this invariable motion4 ,even supposing he moves his limbs to and fro1 this cannot convey to him that idea4 ,he feels in that case a certain sensation or impression1 the parts of which are successive to each other1 and may give him the idea of time3 ,but certainly are not disposed in such a manner1 as is necessary to convey the idea of space or the idea of space or extension4 ,since then it appears1 that darkness and motion1 with the utter removal of every thing visible and tangible1 can never give us the idea of extension without matter1 or of a vacuum2 the next question is1 whether they can convey this idea1 when mixed with something visible and tangible8 ,it is commonly allowed by philosophers1 that all bodies1 which discover themselves to the eye1 appear as if painted on a plain surface1 and that their different degrees of remoteness from ourselves are discovered more by reason than by the senses4 ,when ,i hold up my hand before me1 and spread my fingers1 they are separated as perfectly by the blue colour of the firmament1 as they could be by any visible object1 which ,i could place betwixt them4 ,in order1 therefore1 to know whether the sight can convey the impression and idea of a vacuum1 we must suppose1 that amidst an entire darkness1 there are luminous bodies presented to us1 whose light discovers only these bodies themselves1 without giving us any impression of the surrounding objects4 ,we must form a parallel supposition concerning the objects of our feeling4 ,it is not proper to suppose a perfect removal of all tangible objects3 we must allow something to be perceived by the feeling2 and after an interval and motion of the hand or other organ of sensation1 another object of the touch to be met with2 and upon leaving that1 another2 and so on1 as often as we please4 ,the question is1 whether these intervals do not afford us the idea of extension without body8 ,to begin with the first case2 it is evident1 that when only two luminous bodies appear to the eye1 we can perceive1 whether they be conjoined or separate3 whether they be separated by a great or small distance2 and if this distance varies1 we can perceive its increase or diminution1 with the motion of the bodies4 ,but as the distance is not in this case any thing coloured or visible1 it may be thought that there is here a vacuum or pure extension1 not only intelligible to the mind1 but obvious to the very senses4 ,this is our natural and most familiar way of thinking2 but which we shall learn to correct by a little reflection4 ,we may observe1 that when two bodies present themselves1 where there was formerly an entire darkness1 the only change1 that is discoverable1 is in the appearance of these two objects1 and that all the rest continues to be as before1 a perfect negation of light1 and of every coloured or visible object4 ,this is not only true of what may be said to be remote from these bodies1 but also of the very distance2 which is interposed betwixt them2 that being nothing but darkness1 or the negation of light2 without parts1 without composition1 invariable and indivisible4 ,now since this distance causes no perception different from what a blind man receives from his eyes1 or what is conveyed to us in the darkest night1 it must partake of the same properties3 ,and as blindness and darkness afford us no ideas of extension1 it is impossible that the dark and undistinguishable distance betwixt two bodies can ever produce that idea4 ,the sole difference betwixt an absolute darkness and the appearance of two or more visible luminous objects consists1 as ,i said1 in the objects themselves1 and in the manner they affect our senses4 ,the angles1 which the rays of light flowing from them1 form with each other2 the motion that is required in the eye1 in its passage from one to the other2 and the different parts of the organs1 which are affected by them2 these produce the only perceptions1 from which we can judge of the distance4 ,but as these perceptions are each of them simple and indivisible1 they can never give us the idea of extension4 ,we may illustrate this by considering the sense of feeling1 and the imaginary distance or interval interposed betwixt tangible or solid objects4 ,i suppose two cases1 viz4 that of a man supported in the air1 and moving his limbs to and fro1 without meeting any thing tangible2 and that of a man1 who feeling something tangible1 leaves it1 and after a motion1 of which he is sensible1 perceives another tangible object2 and ,i then ask1 wherein consists the difference betwixt these two cases8 ,no one will make any scruple to affirm1 that it consists meerly in the perceiving those objects1 and that the sensation1 which arises from the motion1 is in both cases the same3 ,and as that sensation is not capable of conveying to us an idea of extension1 when unaccompanyed with some other perception1 it can no more give us that idea1 when mixed with the impressions of tangible objects2 since that mixture produces no alteration upon it4 ,but though motion and darkness1 either alone1 or attended with tangible and visible objects1 convey no idea of a vacuum or extension without matter1 yet they are the causes why we falsly imagine we can form such an idea4 ,for there is a close relation betwixt that motion and darkness1 and a real extension1 or composition of visible and tangible objects4 ,first1 ,we may observe1 that two visible objects appearing in the midst of utter darkness1 affect the senses in the same manner1 and form the same angle by the rays1 which flow from them1 and meet in the eye1 as if the distance betwixt them were find with visible objects1 that give us a true idea of extension4 ,the sensation of motion is likewise the same1 when there is nothing tangible interposed betwixt two bodies1 as when we feel a compounded body1 whose different parts are placed beyond each other4 ,secondly1 ,we find by experience1 that two bodies1 which are so placed as to affect the senses in the same manner with two others1 that have a certain extent of visible objects interposed betwixt them1 are capable of receiving the same extent1 without any sensible impulse or penetration1 and without any change on that angle1 under which they appear to the senses4 ,in like manner1 where there is one object1 which we cannot feel after another without an interval1 and the perceiving of that sensation we call motion in our hand or organ of sensation2 experience shews us1 that it is possible the same object may be felt with the same sensation of motion1 along with the interposed impression of solid and tangible objects1 attending the sensation4 ,that is1 in other words1 an invisible and intangible distance may be converted into a visible and tangible one1 without any change on the distant objects4 ,thirdly1 ,we may observe1 as another relation betwixt these two kinds of distance1 that they have nearly the same effects on every natural phnomenon4 ,for as all qualities1 such as heat1 cold1 light1 attraction1 c4 diminish in proportion to the distance2 there is but little difference observed1 whether this distance be marled out by compounded and sensible objects1 or be known only by the manner1 in which the distant objects affect the senses4 ,here then are three relations betwixt that distance1 which conveys the idea of extension1 and that other1 which is not filled with any coloured or solid object4 ,the distant objects affect the senses in the same manner1 whether separated by the one distance or the other2 the second species of distance is found capable of receiving the first2 and they both equally diminish the force of every quality4 ,these relations betwixt the two kinds of distance will afford us an easy reason1 why the one has so often been taken for the other1 and why we imagine we have an idea of extension without the idea of any object either of the sight or feeling4 ,for we may establish it as a general maxim in this science of human nature1 that wherever there is a close relation betwixt two ideas1 the mind is very apt to mistake them1 and in all its discourses and reasonings to use the one for the other4 ,this phnomenon occurs on so many occasions1 and is of such consequence1 that ,i cannot forbear stopping a moment to examine its causes4 ,i shall only premise1 that we must distinguish exactly betwixt the phnomenon itself1 and the causes1 which ,i shall assign for it2 and must not imagine from any uncertainty in the latter1 that the former is also uncertain4 ,the phnomenon may be real1 though my explication be chimerical4 ,the falshood of the one is no consequence of that of the other2 though at the same time we may observe1 that it is very natural for us to draw such a consequence2 which is an evident instance of that very principle1 which ,i endeavour to explain4 ,when ,i received the relations of resemblance1 contiguity and causation1 as principles of union among ideas1 without examining into their causes1 it was more in prosecution of my first maxim1 that we must in the end rest contented with experience1 than for want of something specious and plausible1 which ,i might have displayed on that subject4 ,it would have been easy to have made an imaginary dissection of the brain1 and have shewn1 why upon our conception of any idea1 the animal spirits run into all the contiguous traces1 and rouze up the other ideas1 that are related to it4 ,but though ,i have neglected any advantage1 which ,i might have drawn from this topic in explaining the relations of ideas1 ,i am afraid ,i must here have recourse to it1 in order to account for the mistakes that arise from these relations4 ,i shall therefore observe1 that as the mind is endowed with a power of exciting any idea it pleases2 whenever it dispatches the spirits into that region of the brain1 in which the idea is placed2 these spirits always excite the idea1 when they run precisely into the proper traces1 and rummage that cell1 which belongs to the idea4 ,but as their motion is seldom direct1 and naturally turns a little to the one side or the other2 for this reason the animal spirits1 falling into the contiguous traces1 present other related ideas in lieu of that1 which the mind desired at first to survey4 ,this change we are not always sensible of2 but continuing still the same train of thought1 make use of the related idea1 which is presented to us1 and employ it in our reasoning1 as if it were the same with what we demanded4 ,this is the cause of many mistakes and sophisms in philosophy2 as will naturally be imagined1 and as it would be easy to show1 if there was occasion4 ,of the three relations above-mentioned that of resemblance is the most fertile source of error2 and indeed there are few mistakes in reasoning1 which do not borrow largely from that origin4 ,resembling ideas are not only related together1 but the actions of the mind1 which we employ in considering them1 are so little different1 that we are not able to distinguish them4 ,this last circumstance is of great consequence1 and we may in general observe1 that wherever the actions of the mind in forming any two ideas are the same or resembling1 we are very apt to confound these ideas1 and take the one for the other4 ,of this we shall see many instances in the progress of this treatise4 ,but though resemblance be the relation1 which most readily produces a mistake in ideas1 yet the others of causation and contiguity may also concur in the same influence4 ,we might produce the figures of poets and orators1 as sufficient proofs of this1 were it as usual1 as it is reasonable1 in metaphysical subjects to draw our arguments from that quarter4 ,but lest metaphysicians should esteem this below their dignity1 ,i shall borrow a proof from an observation1 which may be made on most of their own discourses1 viz4 that it is usual for men to use words for ideas1 and to talk instead of thinking in their reasonings4 ,we use words for ideas1 because they are commonly so closely connected that the mind easily mistakes them4 ,and this likewise is the reason1 why we substitute the idea of a distance1 which is not considered either as visible or tangible1 in the room of extension1 which is nothing but a composition of visible or tangible points disposed in a certain order4 ,in causing this mistake there concur both the relations of causation and resemblance4 ,as the first species of distance is found to be convertible into the second1 it is in this respect a kind of cause2 and the similarity of their manner of affecting the senses1 and diminishing every quality1 forms the relation of resemblance4 ,after this chain of reasoning and explication of my principles1 ,i am now prepared to answer all the objections that have been offered1 whether derived from metaphysics or mechanics4 ,the frequent disputes concerning a vacuum1 or extension without matter prove not the reality of the idea1 upon which the dispute turns2 there being nothing more common1 than to see men deceive themselves in this particular2 especially when by means of any close relation1 there is another idea presented1 which may be the occasion of their mistake4 ,we may make almost the same answer to the second objection1 derived from the conjunction of the ideas of rest and annihilation4 ,when every thing is annihilated in the chamber1 and the walls continue immoveable1 the chamber must be conceived much in the same manner as at present1 when the air that fills it1 is not an object of the senses4 ,this annihilation leaves to the eye1 that fictitious distance1 which is discovered by the different parts of the organ1 that are affected1 and by the degrees of light and shade2--and to the feeling1 that which consists in a sensation of motion in the hand1 or other member of the body4 ,in vain should we4 search any farther4 ,on whichever side we turn this subject1 we shall find that these are the only impressions such an object can produce after the supposed annihilation2 and it has already been remarked1 that impressions can give rise to no ideas1 but to such as resemble them4 ,since a body interposed betwixt two others may be supposed to be annihilated1 without producing any change upon such as lie on each hand of it1 it is easily conceived1 how it may be created anew1 and yet produce as little alteration4 ,now the motion of a body has much the same effect as its creation4 ,the distant bodies are no more affected in the one case1 than in the other4 ,this suffices to satisfy the imagination1 and proves there is no repugnance in such a motion4 ,afterwards experience comes in play to persuade us that two bodies1 situated in the manner above-described1 have really such a capacity of receiving body betwixt them1 and that there is no obstacle to the conversion of the invisible and intangible distance into one that is visible and tangible4 ,however natural that conversion may seem1 we cannot be sure it is practicable1 before we have had experience of it4 ,thus ,i seem to have answered the three objections above-mentioned2 though at the same time ,i am sensible1 that few will be satisfyed with these answers1 but will immediately propose new objections and difficulties4 ,it will probably be said1 that my reasoning makes nothing to the matter in hands and that ,i explain only the manner in which objects affect the senses1 without endeavouring to account for their real nature and operations4 ,though there be nothing visible or tangible interposed betwixt two bodies1 yet we find ,,by ,,experience1 that the bodies may be placed in the same manner1 with regard to the eye1 and require the same motion of the hand in passing from one to the other1 as if divided by something visible and tangible4 ,this invisible and intangible distance is also found by experience to contain a capacity of receiving body1 or of becoming visible and tangible4 ,here is the whole of my system2 and in no part of it have ,i endeavoured to explain the cause1 which separates bodies after this manner1 and gives them a capacity of receiving others betwixt them1 without any impulse or penetration4 ,i answer this objection1 by pleading guilty1 and by confessing that my intention never was to penetrate into the nature of bodies1 or explain the secret causes of their operations4 ,for besides that this belongs not to my present purpose1 ,i am afraid1 that such an enterprise is beyond the reach of human understanding1 and that we can never pretend to know body otherwise than by those external properties1 which discover themselves to the senses4 ,as to those who attempt any thing farther1 ,i cannot approve of their ambition1 till ,i see1 in some one instance at least1 that they have met with success4 ,but at present ,i content myself with knowing perfectly the manner in which objects affect my senses1 and their connections with each other1 as far as experience informs me of them4 ,this suffices for the conduct of life2 and this also suffices for my philosophy1 which pretends only to explain the nature and causes of our perceptions1 or impressions and ideas4#f #f ,as long as we confine our speculations to the appearances of objects to our senses1 without entering into disquisitions concerning their real nature and operations1 we are safe from all difficulties1 and can never be embarrassed by any question4 ,thus1 if it be asked1 if the invisible and intangible distance1 interposed betwixt two objects1 be something or nothing3 ,it is easy to answer1 that it is ,,something1 ,,viz4 a property of the objects1 which affect the ,,senses after such a particular manner4 ,if it be asked whether two objects1 having such a distance betwixt them1 touch or not3 it may be answered1 that this depends upon the definition of the word1 ,,touch4 ,if objects be said to touch1 when there is nothing ,,sensible interposed betwixt them1 these objects touch3 it objects be said to touch1 when their ,,images strike contiguous parts of the eye1 and when the hand ,,feels both objects successively1 without any interposed motion1 these objects do not touch4 ,the appearances of objects to our senses are all consistent2 and no difficulties can ever arise1 but from the obscurity of the terms we make use of4 ,if we carry our enquiry beyond the appearances of objects to the senses1 ,i am afraid1 that most of our conclusions will be full of scepticism and uncertainty4 ,thus if it be asked1 whether or not the invisible and intangible distance be always full of body1 or of something that by an improvement of our organs might become visible or tangible1 ,i must acknowledge1 that ,i find no very decisive arguments on either side2 though ,i am inclined to the contrary opinion1 as being more suitable to vulgar and popular notions4 ,if ,,the ,,newtonian philosophy be rightly understood1 it will be found to mean no more4 ,a vacuum is asserted3 ,that is1 bodies are said to be placed after such a manner1 is to receive bodies betwixt them1 without impulsion or penetration4 ,the real nature of this position of bodies is unknown4 ,we are only acquainted with its effects on the senses1 and its power of receiving body4 ,nothing is more suitable to that philosophy1 than a modest scepticism to a certain degree1 and a fair confession of ignorance in subjects1 that exceed all human capacity4 ,i shall conclude this subject of extension with a paradox1 which will easily be explained from the foregoing reasoning4 ,this paradox is1 that if you are pleased to give to the in-visible and intangible distance1 or in other words1 to the capacity of becoming a visible and tangible distance1 the name of a vacuum1 extension and matter are the same1 and yet there is a vacuum4 ,if you will not give it that name1 motion is possible in a plenum1 without any impulse in infinitum1 without returning in a circle1 and without penetration4 ,but however we may express ourselves1 we must always confess1 that we have no idea of any real extension without filling it with sensible objects1 and conceiving its parts as visible or tangible4 ,as to the doctrine1 that time is nothing but the manner1 in which some real objects exist2 we may observe1 that it is liable to the same objections as the similar doctrine with regard to extension4 ,if it be a sufficient proof1 that we have the idea of a vacuum1 because we dispute and reason concerning it2 we must for the same reason have the idea of time without any changeable existence2 since there is no subject of dispute more frequent and common4 ,but that we really have no such idea1 is certain4 ,for whence should it be derived8 ,does it arise from an impression of sensation or of reflection8 ,point it out distinctly to us1 that we may know its nature and qualities4 ,but if you cannot point out any such impression1 you may be certain you are mistaken1 when you imagine you have any such idea4 ,but though it be impossible to shew the impression1 from which the idea of time without a changeable existence is derived2 yet we can easily point out those appearances1 which make us fancy we have that idea4 ,for we may observe1 that there is a continual succession of perceptions in our mind2 so that the idea of time being for ever present with us2 when we consider a stedfast object at five-a-clock1 and regard the same at six2 we are apt to apply to it that idea in the same manner as if every moment were distinguished by a different position1 or an alteration of the object4 ,the first and second appearances of the object1 being compared with the succession of our perceptions1 seem equally removed as if the object had really changed4 ,to which we may add1 what experience shews us1 that the object was susceptible of such a number of changes betwixt these appearances2 as also that the unchangeable or rather fictitious duration has the same effect upon every quality1 by encreasing or diminishing it1 as that succession1 which is obvious to the senses4 ,from these three relations we are apt to confound our ideas1 and imagine we can form the idea of a time and duration1 without any change or succession4 ,,sect4 ,,vi4 ,,of ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,existence1 ,,and ,,of ,,external ,,existence4 ,it may not be amiss1 before we leave this subject1 to explain the ideas of existence and of external existence2 which have their difficulties1 as well as the ideas of space and time4 ,by this means we shall be the better prepared for the examination of knowledge and probability1 when we understand perfectly all those particular ideas1 which may enter into our reasoning4 ,there is no impression nor idea of any kind1 of which we have any consciousness or memory1 that is not conceived as existent2 and it is evident1 that from this consciousness the most perfect idea and assurance of being is derived4 ,from hence we may form a dilemma1 the most clear and conclusive that can be imagined1 viz4 that since we never remember any idea or impression without attributing existence to it1 the idea of existence must either be derived from a distinct impression1 conjoined with every perception or object of our thought1 or must be the very same with the idea of the perception or object4 ,as this dilemma is an evident consequence of the principle1 that every idea arises from a similar impression1 so our decision betwixt the propositions of the dilemma is no more doubtful4 ,so far from there being any distinct impression1 attending every impression and every idea1 that ,i do not think there are any two distinct impressions1 which are inseparably conjoined4 ,though certain sensations may at one time be united1 we quickly find they admit of a separation1 and may be presented apart4 ,and thus1 though every impression and idea we remember be considered as existent1 the idea of existence is not derived from any particular impression4 ,the idea of existence1 then1 is the very same with the idea of what we conceive to be existent4 ,to reflect on any thing simply1 and to reflect on it as existent1 are nothing different from each other4 ,that idea1 when conjoined with the idea of any object1 makes no addition to it4 ,whatever we conceive1 we conceive to be existent4 ,any idea we please to form is the idea of a being2 and the idea of a being is any idea we please to form4 ,whoever opposes this1 must necessarily point out that distinct impression1 from which the idea of entity is derived1 and must prove1 that this impression is inseparable from every perception we believe to be existent4 ,this we may without hesitation conclude to be impossible4 ,our foregoing reasoning#g concerning the distinction of ideas without any real difference will not here serve us in any stead4 ,that kind of distinction is founded on the different resemblances1 which the same simple idea may have to several different ideas4 ,but no object can be presented resembling some object with respect to its existence1 and different from others in the same particular2 since every object1 that is presented1 must necessarily be existent4 #g ,part ,i4 ,sect4 #g4 ,a like reasoning will account for the idea of external existence4 ,we may observe1 that it is universally allowed by philosophers1 and is besides pretty obvious of itself1 that nothing is ever really present with the mind but its perceptions or impressions and ideas1 and that external objects become known to us only by those perceptions they occasion4 ,to hate1 to love1 to think1 to feel1 to see2 all this is nothing but to perceive4 ,now since nothing is ever present to the mind but perceptions1 and since all ideas are derived from something antecedently present to the mind2 it follows1 that it is impossible for us so much as to conceive or form an idea of any thing specifically different from ideas and impressions4 ,let us fix our attention out of ourselves as much as possible3 ,let us chase our imagination to the heavens1 or to the utmost limits of the universe2 we never really advance a step beyond ourselves1 nor can conceive any kind of existence1 but those perceptions1 which have appeared in that narrow compass4 ,this is the universe of the imagination1 nor have we any idea but what is there produced4 ,the farthest we can go towards a conception of external objects1 when supposed ,,specifically different from our perceptions1 is to form a relative idea of them1 without pretending to comprehend the related objects4 ,generally speaking we do not suppose them specifically different2 but only attribute to them different relations1 connections and durations4 ,but of this more fully hereafter4#h #h ,part ,,iv1 ,sect4 #b4 ,,part ,,iii4 ,,of ,,knowledge ,,and ,,probability4 ,,sect4 ,i4 ,,of ,,knowledge4 ,there are seven#a different kinds of philosophical relation1 viz4 ,,resemblance1 ,,identity1 ,,relations ,,of ,,time ,,and ,,place1 ,,proportion ,,in ,,quantity ,,or ,,number1 ,,degrees ,,in ,,any ,,quality1 ,,contrariety and ,,causation4 ,these relations may be divided into two classes2 into such as depend entirely on the ideas1 which we compare together1 and such as may be changed without any change in the ideas4 ,it is from the idea of a triangle1 that we discover the relation of equality1 which its three angles bear to two right ones2 and this relation is invariable1 as long as our idea remains the same4 ,on the contrary1 the relations of contiguity and distance betwixt two objects may be changed merely by an alteration of their place1 without any change on the objects themselves or on their ideas2 and the place depends on a hundred different accidents1 which cannot be foreseen by the mind4 ,it is the same case with identity and causation4 ,two objects1 though perfectly resembling each other1 and even appearing in the same place at different times1 may be numerically different3 ,and as the power1 by which one object produces another1 is never discoverable merely from their idea1 it is evident cause and effect are relations1 of which we receive information from experience1 and not from any abstract reasoning or reflection4 ,there is no single phnomenon1 even the most simple1 which can be accounted for from the qualities of the objects1 as they appear to us2 or which we could foresee without the help of our memory and experience4 #a ,part ,i4 ,sect4 #e4 ,it appears1 therefore1 that of these seven philosophical relations1 there remain only four1 which depending solely upon ideas1 can be the objects of knowledge and certainty4 ,these four are ,,resemblance1 ,,contrariety1 ,,degrees ,,in ,,quality1 and ,,proportions ,,in ,,quantity ,,or ,,number4 ,three of these relations are discoverable at first sight1 and fall more properly under the province of intuition than demonstration4 ,when any objects resemble each other1 the resemblance will at first strike the eye1 or rather the mind2 and seldom requires a second examination4 ,the case is the same with contrariety1 and with the degrees of any quality4 ,no one can once doubt but existence and non-existence destroy each other1 and are perfectly incompatible and contrary4 ,and though it be impossible to judge exactly of the degrees of any quality1 such as colour1 taste1 heat1 cold1 when the difference betwixt them is very small3 yet it is easy to decide1 that any of them is superior or inferior to another1 when their difference is considerable4 ,and this decision we always pronounce at first sight1 without any enquiry or reasoning4 ,we might proceed1 after the same manner1 in fixing the proportions of quantity or number1 and might at one view observe a superiority or inferiority betwixt any numbers1 or figures2 especially where the difference is very great and remarkable4 ,as to equality or any exact proportion1 we can only guess at it from a single consideration2 except in very short numbers1 or very limited portions of extension2 which are comprehended in an instant1 and where we perceive an impossibility of falling into any considerable error4 ,in all other cases we must settle the proportions with some liberty1 or proceed in a more artificial manner4 ,i have already observed1 that geometry1 or the art1 by which we fix the proportions of figures2 though it much excels both in universality and exactness1 the loose judgments of the senses and imagination2 yet never attains a perfect precision and exactness4 ,it's first principles are still drawn from the general appearance of the objects2 and that appearance can never afford us any security1 when we examine1 the prodigious minuteness of which nature is susceptible4 ,our ideas seem to give a perfect assurance1 that no two right lines can have a common segment2 but if we consider these ideas1 we shall find1 that they always suppose a sensible inclination of the two lines1 and that where the angle they form is extremely small1 we have no standard of a ,i right line so precise as to assure us of the truth of this proposition4 ,it is the same case with most of the primary decisions of the mathematics4 ,there remain1 therefore1 algebra and arithmetic as the only sciences1 in which we can carry on a chain of reasoning to any degree of intricacy1 and yet preserve a perfect exactness and certainty4 ,we are possest of a precise standard1 by which we can judge of the equality and proportion of numbers2 and according as they correspond or not to that standard1 we determine their relations1 without any possibility of error4 ,when two numbers are so combined1 as that the one has always an unite answering to every unite of the other1 we pronounce them equal2 and it is for want of such a standard of equality in extension1 that geometry can scarce be esteemed a perfect and infallible science4 ,but here it may not be amiss to obviate a difficulty1 which may arise from my asserting1 that though geometry falls short of that perfect precision and certainty1 which are peculiar to arithmetic and algebra1 yet it excels the imperfect judgments of our senses and imagination4 ,the reason why ,i impute any defect to geometry1 is1 because its original and fundamental principles are derived merely from appearances2 and it may perhaps be imagined1 that this defect must always attend it1 and keep it from ever reaching a greater exactness in the comparison of objects or ideas1 than what our eye or imagination alone is able to attain4 ,i own that this defect so far attends it1 as to keep it from ever aspiring to a full certainty3 ,but since these fundamental principles depend on the easiest and least deceitful appearances1 they bestow on their consequences a degree of exactness1 of which these consequences are singly incapable4 ,it is impossible for the eye to determine the angles of a chiliagon to be equal to #aiif right angles1 or make any conjecture1 that approaches this proportion2 but when it determines1 that right lines cannot concur2 that we cannot draw more than one right line between two given points2 it's mistakes can never be of any consequence4 ,and this is the nature and use of geometry1 to run us up to such appearances1 as1 by reason of their simplicity1 cannot lead us into any considerable error4 ,i shall here take occasion to propose a second observation concerning our demonstrative reasonings1 which is suggested by the same subject of the mathematics4 ,it is usual with mathematicians1 to pretend1 that those ideas1 which are their objects1 are of so refined and spiritual a nature1 that they fall not under the conception of the fancy1 but must be comprehended by a pure and intellectual view1 of which the superior faculties of the soul are alone capable4 ,the same notion runs through most parts of philosophy1 and is principally made use of to explain oar abstract ideas1 and to shew how we can form an idea of a triangle1 for instance1 which shall neither be an isoceles nor scalenum1 nor be confined to any particular length and proportion of sides4 ,it is easy to see1 why philosophers are so fond of this notion of some spiritual and refined perceptions2 since by that means they cover many of their absurdities1 and may refuse to submit to the decisions of clear ideas1 by appealing to such as are obscure and uncertain4 ,but to destroy this artifice1 we need but reflect on that principle so oft insisted on1 that all our ideas are copyed from our impressions4 ,for from thence we may immediately conclude1 that since all impressions are clear and precise1 the ideas1 which are copyed from them1 must be of the same nature1 and can never1 but from our fault1 contain any thing so dark and intricate4 ,an idea is by its very nature weaker and fainter than an impression2 but being in every other respect the same1 cannot imply any very great mystery4 ,if its weakness render it obscure1 it is our business to remedy that defect1 as much as possible1 by keeping the idea steady and precise2 and till we have done so1 it is in vain to pretend to reasoning and philosophy4 ,,sect4 ,,ii4 ,,of ,,probability1 ,,and ,,of ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,cause ,,and ,,effect4 ,this is all ,i think necessary to observe concerning those four relations1 which are the foundation of science2 but as to the other three1 which depend not upon the idea1 and may be absent or present even while that remains the same1 it will be proper to explain them more particularly4 ,these three relations are identity1 the situations in time and place1 and causation4 ,all kinds of reasoning consist in nothing but a comparison1 and a discovery of those relations1 either constant or inconstant1 which two or more objects bear to each other4 ,this comparison we may make1 either when both the objects are present to the senses1 or when neither of them is present1 or when only one4 ,when both the objects are present to the senses along with the relation1 we call this perception rather than reasoning2 nor is there in this case any exercise of the thought1 or any action1 properly speaking1 but a mere passive admission of the impressions through the organs of sensation4 ,according to this way of thinking1 we ought not to receive as reasoning any of the observations we may make concerning identity1 and the relations of time and place2 since in none of them the mind can go beyond what is immediately present to the senses1 either to discover the real existence or the relations of objects4 ,it is only causation1 which produces such a connexion1 as to give us assurance from the existence or action of one object1 that it was followed or preceded by any other existence or action2 nor can the other two relations be ever made use of in reasoning1 except so far as they either affect or are affected by it4 ,there is nothing in any objects to perswade us1 that they are either always remote or always contiguous2 and when from experience and observation we discover1 that their relation in this particular is invariable1 we1 always conclude there is some secret cause1 which separates or unites them4 ,the same reasoning extends to identity4 ,we readily suppose an object may continue individually the same1 though several times absent from and present to the senses2 and ascribe to it an identity1 notwithstanding the interruption of the perception1 whenever we conclude1 that if we had kept our eye or hand constantly upon it1 it would have conveyed an invariable and uninterrupted perception4 ,but this conclusion beyond the impressions of our senses can be founded only on the connexion of cause and effect2 nor can we otherwise have any security1 that the object is not changed upon us1 however much the new object may resemble that which was formerly present to the senses4 ,whenever we discover such a perfect resemblance1 we consider1 whether it be common in that species of objects2 whether possibly or probably any cause could operate in producing the change and resemblance2 and according as we determine concerning these causes and effects1 we form our judgment concerning the identity of the object4 ,here then it appears1 that of those three relations1 which depend not upon the mere ideas1 the only one1 that can be traced beyond our senses and informs us of existences and objects1 which we do not see or feel1 is causation4 ,this relation1 therefore1 we shall endeavour to explain fully before we leave the subject of the understanding4 ,to begin regularly1 we must consider the idea of causation1 and see from what origin it is derived4 ,it is impossible to reason justly1 without understanding perfectly the idea concerning which we reason2 and it is impossible perfectly to understand any idea1 without tracing it up to its origin1 and examining that primary impression1 from which it arises4 ,the examination of the impression bestows a clearness on the idea2 and the examination of the idea bestows a like clearness on all our reasoning4 ,let us therefore cast our eye on any two objects1 which we call cause and effect1 and turn them on all sides1 in order to find that impression1 which produces an idea1 of such prodigious consequence4 ,at first sight ,i perceive1 that ,i must not search for it in any of the particular qualities of the objects2 since which-ever of these qualities ,i pitch on1 ,i find some object1 that is not possessed of it1 and yet falls under the denomination of cause or effect4 ,and indeed there is nothing existent1 either externally or internally1 which is not to be considered either as a cause or an effect2 though it is plain there is no one quality1 which universally belongs to all beings1 and gives them a title to that denomination4 ,the idea1 then1 of causation must be derived from some relation among objects2 and that relation we must now endeavour to discover4 ,i find in the first place1 that whatever objects are considered as causes or effects1 are contiguous2 and that nothing can operate in a time or place1 which is ever so little removed from those of its existence4 ,though distant objects may sometimes seem productive of each other1 they are commonly found upon examination to be linked by a chain of causes1 which are contiguous among themselves1 and to the distant objects2 and when in any particular instance we cannot discover this connexion1 we still presume it to exist4 ,we may therefore consider the relation of ,,contiguity as essential to that of causation2 at least may suppose it such1 according to the general opinion1 till we can find a more#b proper occasion to clear up this matter1 by examining what objects are or are not susceptible of juxtaposition and conjunction4 #b ,part ,,iv4 ,sect4 #e4 ,the second relation ,i shall observe as essential to causes and effects1 is not so universally acknowledged1 but is liable to some controversy4 ,it is that of ,,priority ,of time in the cause before the effect4 ,some pretend that it is not absolutely necessary a cause should precede its effect2 but that any object or action1 in the very first moment of its existence1 may exert its productive quality1 and give rise to another object or action1 perfectly co-temporary with itself4 ,but beside that experience in most instances seems to contradict this opinion1 we may establish the relation of priority by a kind of inference or reasoning4 ,it is an established maxim both in natural and moral philosophy1 that an object1 which exists for any time in its full perfection without producing another1 is not its sole cause2 but is assisted by some other principle1 which pushes it from its state of inactivity1 and makes it exert that energy1 of which it was secretly possest4 ,now if any cause may be perfectly co-temporary with its effect1 it is certain1 according to this maxim1 that they must all of them be so2 since any one of them1 which retards its operation for a single moment1 exerts not itself at that very individual time1 in which it might have operated2 and therefore is no proper cause4 ,the consequence of this would be no less than the destruction of that succession of causes1 which we observe in the world2 and indeed1 the utter annihilation of time4 ,for if one cause were co-temporary with its effect1 and this effect with its effect1 and so on1 it is plain there would be no such thing as succession1 and all objects must be co-existent4 ,if this argument appear satisfactory1 it is well4 ,if not1 ,i beg the reader to allow me the same liberty1 which ,i have used in the preceding case1 of supposing it such4 ,for he shall find1 that the affair is of no great importance4 ,having thus discovered or supposed the two relations of contiguity and succession to be essential to causes and effects1 ,i find ,i am stopt short1 and can proceed no farther in considering any single instance of cause and effect4 ,motion in one body is regarded upon impulse as the cause of motion in another4 ,when we consider these objects with utmost attention1 we find only that the one body approaches the other2 and that the motion of it precedes that of the other1 but without any1 sensible interval4 ,it is in vain to rack ourselves with farther thought and reflection upon this subject4 ,we can go no farther in considering this particular instance4 ,should any one leave this instance1 and pretend to define a cause1 by saying it is something productive of another1 it is evident he would say nothing4 ,for what does he mean by production8 ,can he give any definition of it1 that will not be the same with that of causation8 ,if he can2 ,i desire it may be produced4 ,if he cannot2 he here runs in a circle1 and gives a synonimous term instead of a definition4 ,shall we then rest contented with these two relations of contiguity and succession1 as affording a complete idea of causation8 ,by1 no means4 ,an object may be contiguous and prior to another1 without being considered as its cause4 ,there is a ,,necessary ,,connexion to be taken into consideration2 and that relation is of much greater importance1 than any of the other two above-mentioned4 ,here again ,i turn the object on all sides1 in order to discover the nature of this necessary connexion1 and find the impression1 or impressions1 from which its idea may be derived4 ,when ,i cast my eye on the known ,qualities of objects1 ,i immediately discover that the relation of cause and effect depends not in the least on them4 ,when ,i consider their relations1 ,i can find none but those of contiguity and succession2 which ,i have already regarded as imperfect and unsatisfactory4 ,shall the despair of success make me assert1 that ,i am here possest of an idea1 which is not preceded by any similar impression8 ,this would be too strong a proof of levity and inconstancy2 since the contrary principle has been already so firmly established1 as to admit of no farther doubt2 at least1 till we have more fully examined the present difficulty4 ,we must1 therefore1 proceed like those1 who being in search of any thing1 that lies concealed from them1 and not finding it in the place they expected1 beat about all the neighbouring fields1 without any certain view or design1 in hopes their good fortune will at last guide them to what they search for4 ,it is necessary for us to leave the direct survey of this question concerning the nature of that necessary connexion1 which enters into our idea of cause and effect2 and endeavour to find some other questions1 the examination of which will perhaps afford a hint1 that may serve to clear up the present difficulty4 ,of these questions there occur two1 which ,i shall proceed to examine1 viz4 ,first1 ,for what reason we pronounce it necessary1 that every thing whose existence has a beginning1 should also have a cause4 ,secondly1 ,why we conclude1 that such particular causes must necessarily have such particular effects2 and what is the nature of that inference we draw from the one to the other1 and of the belief we repose in it8 ,i shall only observe before ,i proceed any farther1 that though the ideas of cause and effect be derived from the impressions of reflection as well as from those of sensation1 yet for brevity's sake1 ,i commonly mention only the latter as the origin of these ideas2 though ,i desire that whatever ,i say of them may also extend to the former4 ,passions are connected with their objects and with one another2 no less than external bodies are connected together4 ,the same relation1 then1 of cause and effect1 which belongs to one1 must be common to all of them4 ,,sect4 ,,iii4 ,,why ,a ,,cause ,,is ,,always ,,necessary4 ,to begin with the first question concerning the necessity of a cause3 ,it is a general maxim in philosophy1 that whatever begins to exist1 must have a cause of existence4 ,this is commonly taken for granted in all reasonings1 without any proof given or demanded4 ,it is supposed to be founded on intuition1 and to be one of those maxims1 which though they may be denyed with the lips1 it is impossible for men in their hearts really to doubt of4 ,but if we examine this maxim by the idea of knowledge above-explained1 we shall discover in it no mark of any such intuitive certainty2 but on the contrary shall find1 that it is of a nature quite foreign to that species of conviction4 ,all certainty arises from the comparison of ideas1 and from the discovery of such relations as are unalterable1 so long as the ideas continue the same4 ,these relations are ,,resemblance1 ,,proportions ,,in ,,quantity ,,and ,,number1 ,,degrees ,,of ,,any ,,quality1 and ,,contrariety2 none of which are implyed in this proposition1 ,whatever has a beginning has also a cause of existence4 ,that proposition therefore is not intuitively certain4 ,at least any one1 who would assert it to be intuitively certain1 must deny these to be the only infallible relations1 and must find some other relation of that kind to be implyed in it2 which it will then be time enough to examine4 ,but here is an argument1 which proves at once1 that the foregoing proposition is neither intuitively nor demonstrably certain4 ,we can never demonstrate the necessity of a cause to every new existence1 or new modification of existence1 without shewing at the same time the impossibility there is1 that any thing can ever begin to exist without some productive principle2 and where the latter proposition cannot be proved1 we must despair of ever being able to prove the former4 ,now that the latter proposition is utterly incapable of a demonstrative proof1 we may satisfy ourselves by considering that as all distinct ideas are separable from each other1 and as the ideas of cause and effect are evidently distinct1 it will be easy for us to conceive any object to be non-existent this moment1 and existent the next1 without conjoining to it the distinct idea of a cause or productive principle4 ,the separation1 therefore1 of the idea of a cause from that of a beginning of existence1 is plainly possible for the imagination2 and consequently the actual separation of these objects is so far possible1 that it implies no contradiction nor absurdity2 and is therefore incapable of being refuted by any reasoning from mere ideas2 without which it is impossible to demonstrate the necessity of a cause4 ,accordingly we shall find upon examination1 that every demonstration1 which has been produced for the necessity of a cause1 is fallacious and sophistical4 ,all the points of time and place1 say some philosophers1#c in which we can suppose any object to begin to exist1 are in themselves equal2 and unless there be some cause1 which is peculiar to one time and to one place1 and which by that means determines and fixes the existence1 it must remain in eternal suspence2 and the object can never begin to be1 for want of something to fix its beginning4 ,but ,i ask2 ,is there any more difficulty in supposing the time and place to be fixed without a cause1 than to suppose the existence to be determined in that manner8 ,the first question that occurs on this subject is always1 whether the object shall exist or not3 ,the next1 when and where it shall begin to exist4 ,if the removal of a cause be intuitively absurd in the one case1 it must be so in the other3 ,and if that absurdity be not clear without a proof in the one case1 it will equally require one in the other4 ,the absurdity1 then1 of the one supposition can never be a proof of that of the other2 since they are both upon the same footing1 and must stand or fall by the same reasoning4 #c ,mr4 ,hobbes4 ,the second argument1#d which ,i find used on this head1 labours under an equal difficulty4 ,every thing1 it is said1 must have a cause2 for if any thing wanted a cause1 it would produce ,,itself2 that is1 exist before it existed2 which is impossible4 ,but this reasoning is plainly unconclusive2 because it supposes1 that in our denial of a cause we still grant what we expressly deny1 viz4 that there must be a cause2 which therefore is taken to be the object itself2 and that1 no doubt1 is an evident contradiction4 ,but to say that any thing is produced1 or to express myself more properly1 comes into existence1 without a cause1 is not to affirm1 that it is itself its own cause2 but on the contrary in excluding all external causes1 excludes a fortiori the thing itself1 which is created4 ,an object1 that exists absolutely without any cause1 certainly is not its own cause2 and when you assert1 that the one follows from the other1 you suppose the very point in questions and take it for granted1 that it is utterly impossible any thing can ever begin to exist without a cause1 but that1 upon the exclusion of one productive principle1 we must still have recourse to another4 #d ,dr4 ,clarke and others4 ,it is exactly the same case with the third argument1#e which has been employed to demonstrate the necessity of a cause4 ,whatever is produced without any cause1 is produced by nothing2 or in other words1 has nothing for its cause4 ,but nothing can never be a cause1 no more than it can be something1 or equal to two right angles4 ,by the same intuition1 that we perceive nothing not to be equal to two right angles1 or not to be something1 we perceive1 that it can never be a cause2 and consequently must perceive1 that every object has a real cause of its existence4 #e ,mr4 ,locke4 ,i believe it will not be necessary to employ many words in shewing the weakness of this argument1 after what ,i have said of the foregoing4 ,they are all of them founded on the same fallacy1 and are derived from the same turn of thought4 ,it is sufficient only to observe1 that when we exclude all causes we really do exclude them1 and neither suppose nothing nor the object itself to be the causes of the existence2 and consequently can draw no argument from the absurdity of these suppositions to prove the absurdity of that exclusion4 ,if every thing must have a cause1 it follows1 that upon the exclusion of other causes we must accept of the object itself or of nothing as causes4 ,but it is the very point in question1 whether every thing must have a cause or not2 and therefore1 according to all just reasoning1 it ought never to be taken for granted4 ,they are still more frivolous1 who say1 that every effect must have a cause1 because it is implyed in the very idea of effect4 ,every effect necessarily pre-supposes a cause2 effect being a relative term1 of which cause is the correlative4 ,but this does not prove1 that every being must be preceded by a cause2 no more than it follows1 because every husband must have a wife1 that therefore every man must be marryed4 ,the true state of the question is1 whether every object1 which begins to exist1 must owe its existence to a cause3 and this ,i assert neither to be intuitively nor demonstratively certain1 and hope to have proved it sufficiently by the foregoing arguments4 ,since it is not from knowledge or any scientific reasoning1 that we derive the opinion of the necessity of a cause to every new production1 that opinion must necessarily arise from observation and experience4 ,the next question1 then1 should naturally be1 how experience gives rise to such a principle8 ,but as ,i find it will be more convenient to sink this question in the following1 ,why we conclude1 that such particular causes must necessarily have such particular erects1 and why we form an inference from one to another8 we shall make that the subject of our future enquiry4 ,it will1 perhaps1 be found in the end1 that the same answer will serve for both questions4 ,,sect4 ,,iv4 ,,of ,,the ,,component ,,parts ,,of ,,our ,,reasonings ,,concerning ,,cause ,,and ,,effect4 ,though the mind in its reasonings from causes or effects carries its view beyond those objects1 which it sees or remembers1 it must never lose sight of them entirely1 nor reason merely upon its own ideas1 without some mixture of impressions1 or at least of ideas of the memory1 which are equivalent to impressions4 ,when we infer effects from causes1 we must establish the existence of these causes2 which we have only two ways of doing1 either by an immediate perception of our memory or senses1 or by an inference from other causes2 which causes again we must ascertain in the same manner1 either by a present impression1 or by an inference from their causes1 and so on1 till we arrive at some object1 which we see or remember4 ,it is impossible for us to carry on our inferences ,,in ,,infinitum2 and the only thing1 that can stop them1 is an impression of the memory or senses1 beyond which there is no room for doubt or enquiry4 ,to give an instance of this1 we may chuse any point of history1 and consider for what reason we either believe or reject it4 ,thus we believe that ,caesar was killed in the senate-house on the ides of ,march2 and that because this fact is established on the unanimous testimony of historians1 who agree to assign this precise time and place to that event4 ,here are certain characters and letters present either to our memory or senses2 which characters we likewise remember to have been used as the signs of certain ideas2 and these ideas were either in the minds of such as were immediately present at that action1 and received the ideas directly from its existence2 or they were derived from the testimony of others1 and that again from another testimony1 by a visible gradation1 it will we arrive at those who were eyewitnesses and spectators of the event4 ,it is obvious all this chain of argument or connexion of causes and effects1 is at first founded on those characters or letters1 which are seen or remembered1 and that without the authority either of the memory or senses our whole reasoning would be chimerical and without foundation4 ,every link of the chain would in that case hang upon another2 but there would not be any thing fixed to one end of it1 capable of sustaining the whole2 and consequently there would be no belief nor evidence4 ,and this actually is the case with all hypothetical arguments1 or reasonings upon a supposition2 there being in them1 neither any present impression1 nor belief of a real existence4 ,i need not observe1 that it is no just objection to the present doctrine1 that we can reason upon our past conclusions or principles1 without having recourse to those impressions1 from which they first arose4 ,for even supposing these impressions should be entirely effaced from the memory1 the conviction they produced may still remain2 and it is equally true1 that all reasonings concerning causes and effects are originally derived from some impression2 in the same manner1 as the assurance of a demonstration proceeds always from a comparison of ideas1 though it may continue after the comparison is forgot4 ,,sect4 ,v4 ,,of ,,the ,,impressions ,,of ,,the ,,senses ,,and ,,memory4 ,in this kind of reasoning1 then1 from causation1 we employ materials1 which are of a mixed and heterogeneous nature1 and which1 however connected1 are yet essentially different from each other4 ,all our arguments concerning causes and effects consist both of an impression of the memory or1 senses1 and of the idea of that existence1 which produces the object of the impression1 or is produced by it4 ,here therefore we have three things to explain1 viz4 ,first1 ,the original impression4 ,secondly1 ,the transition to the idea of the connected cause or effect4 ,thirdly1 ,the nature and qualities of that idea4 ,as to those impressions1 which arise from the senses1 their ultimate cause is1 in my opinion1 perfectly inexplicable by human reason1 and it will always be impossible to decide with certainty1 whether they arise immediately from the object1 or are produced by the creative power of the mind1 or are derived from the author of our being4 ,nor is such a question any way material to our present purpose4 ,we may draw inferences from the coherence of our perceptions1 whether they be true or false2 whether they represent nature justly1 or be mere illusions of the senses4 ,when we search for the characteristic1 which distinguishes the memory from the imagination1 we must immediately perceive1 that it cannot lie in the simple ideas it presents to us2 since both these faculties borrow their simple ideas from the impressions1 and can never go beyond these original perceptions4 ,these faculties are as little distinguished from each other by the arrangement of their complex ideas4 ,for though it be a peculiar property of the memory to preserve the original order and position of its ideas1 while the imagination transposes and changes them1 as it pleases2 yet this difference is not sufficient to distinguish them in their operation1 or make us know the one from the other2 it being impossible to recal the past impressions1 in order to compare them with our present ideas1 and see whether their arrangement be exactly similar4 ,since therefore the memory1 is known1 neither by the order of its complex ideas1 nor the nature of its simple ones2 it follows1 that the difference betwixt it and the imagination lies in its superior force and vivacity4 ,a man may indulge his fancy in feigning any past scene of adventures2 nor would there be any possibility of distinguishing this from a remembrance of a like kind1 were not the ideas of the imagination fainter and more obscure4 ,it frequently happens1 that when two men have been engaged in any scene of action1 the one shall remember it much better than the other1 and shall have all the difficulty in the world to make his companion recollect it4 ,he runs over several circumstances in vain2 mentions the time1 the place1 the company1 what was said1 what was done on all sides2 till at last he hits on some lucky circumstance1 that revives the whole1 and gives his friend a perfect memory of every thing4 ,here the person that forgets receives at first all the ideas from the discourse of the other1 with the same circumstances of time and place2 though he considers them as mere fictions of the imagination4 ,but as soon as the circumstance is mentioned1 that touches the memory1 the very same ideas now appear in a new light1 and have1 in a manner1 a different feeling from what they had before4 ,without any other alteration1 beside that of the feeling1 they become immediately ideas of the memory1 and are assented to4 ,since1 therefore1 the imagination can represent all the same objects that the memory can offer to us1 and since those faculties are only distinguished by the different feeling of the ideas they present1 it may be proper to consider what is the nature of that feeling4 ,and here ,i believe every one will readily agree with me1 that the ideas of the memory are more strong and lively than those of the fancy4 ,a painter1 who intended to represent a passion or emotion of any kind1 would endeavour to get a sight of a person actuated by a like emotion1 in order to enliven his ideas1 and give them a force and vivacity superior to what is found in those1 which are mere fictions of the imagination4 ,the more recent this memory is1 the clearer is the idea2 and when after a long interval he would return to the contemplation of his object1 he always finds its idea to be much decayed1 if not wholly obliterated4 ,we are frequently in doubt concerning the ideas of the memory1 as they become very weak and feeble2 and are at a loss to determine whether any image proceeds from the fancy or the memory1 when it is not drawn in such lively colours as distinguish that latter faculty4 ,i think1 ,i remember such an event1 says one2 but am not sure4 ,a long tract of time has almost worn it out of my memory1 and leaves me uncertain whether or not it be the pure offspring of my fancy4 ,and as an idea of the memory1 by losing its force and vivacity1 may degenerate to such a degree1 as to be taken for an idea of the imagination2 so on the other hand an idea of the imagination may acquire such a force and vivacity1 as to pass for an idea of the memory1 and counterfeit its effects on the belief and judgment4 ,this is noted in the case of liars2 who by the frequent repetition of their lies1 come at last to believe and remember them1 as realities2 custom and habit having in this case1 as in many others1 the same influence on the mind as nature1 and infixing the idea with equal force and vigour4 ,thus it appears1 that the belief or assent1 which always attends the memory and senses1 is nothing but the vivacity of those perceptions they present2 and that this alone distinguishes them from the imagination4 ,to believe is in this case to feel an immediate impression of the senses1 or a repetition of that impression in the memory4 ,it is merely the force and liveliness of the perception1 which constitutes the first act of the judgment1 and lays the foundation of that reasoning1 which we build upon it1 when we trace the relation of cause and effect4 ,,sect4 ,,vi4 ,,of ,,the ,,inference ,,from ,,the ,,impression ,,to ,,the ,,idea4 ,it is easy to observe1 that in tracing this relation1 the inference we draw from cause to effect1 is not derived merely from a survey of these particular objects1 and from such a penetration into their essences as may discover the dependance of the one upon the other4 ,there is no object1 which implies the existence of any other if we consider these objects in themselves1 and never look beyond the ideas which we form of them4 ,such an inference would amount to knowledge1 and would imply the absolute contradiction and impossibility of conceiving any thing different4 ,but as all distinct ideas are separable1 it is evident there can be no impossibility of that kind4 ,when we pass from a present impression to the idea of any object1 we might possibly have separated the idea from the impression1 and have substituted any other idea in its room4 ,it is therefore by ,,experience only1 that we can infer the existence of one object from that of another4 ,the nature of experience is this4 ,we remember to have had frequent instances of the existence of one species of objects2 and also remember1 that the individuals of another species of objects have always attended them1 and have existed in a regular order of contiguity and succession with regard to them4 ,thus we remember1 to have seen that species of object we call flame1 and to have felt that species of sensation we call heat4 ,we likewise call to mind their constant conjunction in all past instances4 ,without any farther ceremony1 we call the one cause and the other effect1 and infer the existence of the one from that of the other4 ,in all those instances1 from which we learn the conjunction of particular causes and effects1 both the causes and effects have been perceived by the senses1 and are remembered4 ,but in all cases1 wherein we reason concerning them1 there is only one perceived or remembered1 and the other is supplyed in conformity to our past experience4 ,thus in advancing we have insensibly discovered a new relation betwixt cause and effect1 when we least expected it1 and were entirely employed upon another subject4 ,this relation is their ,,constant ,,conjunction4 ,contiguity and succession are not sufficient to make us pronounce any two objects to be cause and effect1 unless we perceive1 that these two relations are preserved in several instances4 ,we may now see the advantage of quitting the direct survey of this relation1 in order to discover the nature of that necessary connexion1 which makes so essential a part of it4 ,there are hopes1 that by this means we may at last arrive at our proposed end2 though to tell the truth1 this new-discovered relation of a constant conjunction seems to advance us but very little in our way4 ,for it implies no more than this1 that like objects have always been placed in like relations of contiguity and succession2 and it seems evident1 at least at first sight1 that by this means we can never discover any new idea1 and can only multiply1 but not enlarge the objects of our mind4 ,it may be thought1 that what we learn not from one object1 we can never learn from a hundred1 which are all of the same kind1 and are perfectly resembling in every circumstance4 ,as our senses shew us in one instance two bodies1 or motions1 or qualities in certain relations of success and contiguity2 so our memory presents us only with a multitude of instances1 wherein we always find like bodies1 motions1 or qualities in like relations4 ,from the mere repetition of any past impression1 even to infinity1 there never will arise any new original idea1 such as that of a necessary connexion2 and the number of impressions has in this case no more effect than if we confined ourselves to one only4 ,but though this reasoning seems just and obvious2 yet as it would be folly to despair too soon1 we shall continue the thread of our discourse2 and having found1 that after the discovery of the constant conjunction of any objects1 we always draw an inference from one object to another1 we shall now examine the nature of that inference1 and of the transition from the impression to the idea4 ,perhaps it will appear in the end1 that the necessary connexion depends on the inference1 instead of the inference's depending on the necessary connexion4 ,since it appears1 that the transition from an impression present to the memory or senses to the idea of an object1 which we call cause or effect1 is founded on past experience1 and on our remembrance of their constant conjunction1 the next question is1 ,whether experience produces the idea by means of the understanding or imagination2 whether we are determined by reason to make the transition1 or by a certain association and relation of perceptions4 ,if reason determined us1 it would proceed upon that principle1 that instances1 of which we have had no experience1 must resemble those1 of which we have had experience1 and that the course of nature continues always uniformly the same4 ,in order therefore to clear up this matter1 let us consider all the arguments1 upon which such a proposition may be supposed to be founded2 and as these must be derived either from knowledge or probability1 let us cast our eye on each of these degrees of evidence1 and see whether they afford any just conclusion of this nature4 ,our foregoing method of reasoning will easily convince us1 that there can be no demonstrative arguments to prove1 that those instances1 of which we have1 had no experience1 resemble those1 of which we have had experience4 ,we can at least conceive a change in the course of nature2 which sufficiently proves1 that such a change is not absolutely impossible4 ,to form a clear idea of any thing1 is an undeniable argument for its possibility1 and is alone a refutation of any pretended demonstration against it4 ,probability1 as it discovers not the relations of ideas1 considered as such1 but only those of objects1 must in some respects be founded on the impressions of our memory and senses1 and in some respects on our ideas4 ,were there no mixture of any impression in our probable reasonings1 the conclusion would be entirely chimerical3 ,and were there no mixture of ideas1 the action of the mind1 in observing the relation1 would1 properly speaking1 be sensation1 not reasoning4 ,it is therefore necessary1 that in all probable reasonings there be something present to the mind1 either seen or remembered2 and that from this we infer something connected with it1 which is not seen nor remembered4 ,the only connexion or relation of objects1 which can lead us beyond the immediate impressions of our memory and senses1 is that of cause and effect2 and that because it is the only one1 on which we can found a just inference from one object to another4 ,the idea of cause and effect is derived from experience1 which informs us1 that such particular objects1 in all past instances1 have been constantly conjoined with each other3 ,and as an object similar to one of these is supposed to be immediately present in its impression1 we thence presume on the existence of one similar to its usual attendant4 ,according to this account of things1 which is1 ,i think1 in every point unquestionable1 probability is founded on the presumption of a resemblance betwixt those objects1 of which we have had experience1 and those1 of which we have had none2 and therefore it is impossible this presumption can arise from probability4 ,the same principle cannot be both the cause and effect of another2 and this is1 perhaps1 the only proposition concerning that relation1 which is either intuitively or demonstratively certain4 ,should any one think to elude this argument2 and without determining whether our reasoning on this subject be derived from demonstration or probability1 pretend that all conclusions from causes and effects are built on solid reasoning3 ,i can only desire1 that this reasoning may be produced1 in order to be exposed to our examination4 ,it may1 perhaps1 be said1 that after experience of the constant conjunction of certain objects1 we reason in the following manner4 ,such an object is always found to produce another4 ,it is impossible it could have this effect1 if it was not endowed with a power of production4 ,the power necessarily implies the effect2 and therefore there is a just foundation for drawing a conclusion from the existence of one object to that of its usual attendant4 ,the past production implies a power3 ,the power implies a new production3 ,and the new production is what we infer from the power and the past production4 ,it were easy for me to shew the weakness of this reasoning1 were ,i willing to make use of those observations1 ,i have already made1 that the idea of production is the same with that of causation1 and that no existence certainly and demonstratively implies a power in any other object2 or were it proper to anticipate what ,i shall have occasion to remark afterwards concerning the idea we form of power and efficacy4 ,but as such a method of proceeding may seem either to weaken my system1 by resting one part of it on another1 or to breed a confusion in my reasoning1 ,i shall endeavour to maintain my present assertion without any such assistance4 ,it shall therefore be allowed for a moment1 that the production of one object by another in any one instance implies a power2 and that this power is connected with its effect4 ,but it having been already proved1 that the power lies not in the sensible qualities of the cause2 and there being nothing but the sensible qualities present to us2 ,i ask1 why in other instances you presume that the same power still exists1 merely upon the appearance of these qualities8 ,your appeal to past experience decides nothing in the present case2 and at the utmost can only prove1 that that very object1 which produced any other1 was at that very instant endowed with such a power2 but can never prove1 that the same power must continue in the same object or collection of sensible qualities2 much less1 that a like power is always conjoined with like sensible qualities1 should it be said1 that we have experience1 that the same power continues united with the same object1 and that like objects are endowed with like powers1 ,i would renew my question1 why from this experience we form any conclusion beyond those past instances1 of which we have had experience4 ,if you answer this question in1 the same manner as the preceding1 your answer gives still occasion to a new question of the same kind1 even in infinitum2 which clearly proves1 that the foregoing reasoning had no just foundation4 ,thus not only our reason fails us in the discovery of the ultimate connexion of causes and effects1 but even after experience has informed us of their constant conjunction1 it is impossible for us to satisfy ourselves by our reason1 why we should extend that experience beyond those particular instances1 which have fallen under our observation4 ,we suppose1 but are never able to prove1 that there must be a resemblance betwixt those objects1 of which we have had experience1 and those which lie beyond the reach of our discovery4 ,we have already taken notice of certain relations1 which make us pass from one object to another1 even though there be no reason to determine us to that transition2 and this we may establish for a general rule1 that wherever the mind constantly and uniformly makes a transition without any reason1 it is influenced by these relations4 ,now this is exactly the present case4 ,reason can never shew us the connexion of one object with another1 though aided by experience1 and the observation of their constant conjunction in all past instances4 ,when the mind1 therefore1 passes from the idea or impression of one object to the idea or belief of another1 it is not determined by reason1 but by certain principles1 which associate together the ideas of these objects1 and unite them in the imagination4 ,had ideas no more union in the fancy than objects seem to have to the understanding1 we could never draw any inference from causes to effects1 nor repose belief in any matter of fact4 ,the inference1 therefore1 depends solely on the union of ideas4 ,the principles of union among ideas1 ,i have reduced to three general ones1 and have asserted1 that the idea or impression of any object naturally introduces the idea of any other object1 that is resembling1 contiguous to1 or connected with it4 ,these principles ,i allow to be neither the infallible nor the sole causes of an union among ideas4 ,they are not the infallible causes4 ,for one may fix his attention during ,sometime on any one object without looking farther4 ,they are not the sole causes4 ,for the thought has evidently a very irregular motion in running along its objects1 and may leap from the heavens to the earth1 from one end of the creation to the other1 without any certain method or order4 ,but though ,i allow this weakness in these three relations1 and this irregularity in the imagination2 yet ,i assert that the only general principles1 which associate ideas1 are resemblance1 contiguity and causation4 ,there is indeed a principle of union among ideas1 which at first sight may be esteemed different from any of these1 but will be found at the bottom to depend on the same origin4 ,when every individual of any species of objects is found by experience to be constantly united with an individual of another species1 the appearance of any new individual of either species naturally conveys the thought to its usual attendant4 ,thus because such a particular idea is commonly annexed to such a particular word1 nothing is required but the hearing of that word to produce the correspondent idea2 and it will scarce be possible for the mind1 by its utmost efforts1 to prevent that transition4 ,in this case it is not absolutely necessary1 that upon hearing such a particular sound we should reflect on any past experience1 and consider what idea has been usually connected with the sound4 ,the imagination of itself supplies the place of this reflection1 and is so accustomed to pass from the word to the idea1 that it interposes not a moment's delay betwixt the hearing of the one1 and the conception of the other4 ,but though ,i acknowledge this to be a true principle of association among ideas1 ,i assert it to be the very same with that betwixt the ideas of cause and effects and to be an essential part in all our reasonings from that relation4 ,we have no other notion of cause and effect1 but that of certain objects1 which have been always conjoined together1 and which in all past instances have been found inseparable4 ,we cannot penetrate into the reason of the conjunction4 ,we only observe the thing itself1 and always find that from the constant conjunction the objects acquire an union in the imagination4 ,when the impression of one becomes present to us1 we immediately form an idea of its usual attendant2 and consequently we may establish this as one part of the definition of an opinion or belief1 that it is an idea related to or associated with a present impression4 ,thus though causation be a philosophical relation1 as implying contiguity1 succession1 and constant conjunction1 yet it is only so far as it is a natural relation1 and produces an union among our ideas1 that we are able to reason upon it1 or draw any inference from it4 ,,sect4 ,,vii4 ,,of ,,the ,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,idea ,,or ,,belief4 ,the idea of an object is an essential part of the belief of it1 but not the whole4 ,we conceive many things1 which we do not believe4 ,in order then to discover more fully the nature of belief1 or the qualities of those ideas we assent to1 let us weigh the following considerations4 ,it is evident1 that all reasonings from causes or effects terminate in conclusions1 concerning matter of fact2 that is1 concerning the existence of objects or of their qualities4 ,it is also evident1 that the idea1 of existence is nothing different from the idea of any object1 and that when after the simple conception of any thing we would conceive it as existent1 we in reality make no addition to or alteration on our first idea4 ,thus when we affirm1 that ,god is existent1 we simply form the idea of such a being1 as he is represented to us2 nor is the existence1 which we attribute to him1 conceived by a particular idea1 which we join to the idea of his other qualities1 and can again separate and distinguish from them4 ,but ,i go farther2 and not content with asserting1 that the conception of the existence of any object is no addition to the simple conception of it1 ,i likewise maintain1 that the belief of the existence joins no new ideas to those which compose the idea of the object4 ,when ,i think of ,god1 when ,i think of him as existent1 and when ,i believe him to be existent1 my idea of him neither encreases nor diminishes4 ,but as it is certain there is a great difference betwixt the simple conception of the existence of an object1 and the belief of it1 and as this difference lies not in the parts or composition of the idea1 which we conceive2 it follows1 that it must lie in the manner1 in which we conceive it4 ,suppose a person present with me1 who advances propositions1 to which ,i do not assent1 that ,caesar dyed in his bed1 that silver is more fusible1 than lead1 or mercury heavier than gold2 it is evident1 that notwithstanding my incredulity1 ,i clearly understand his meaning1 and form all the same ideas1 which he forms4 ,my imagination is endowed with the same powers as his2 nor is it possible for him to conceive any idea1 which ,i cannot conceive2 nor conjoin any1 which ,i cannot conjoin4 ,i therefore ask1 ,wherein consists the difference betwixt believing and disbelieving any proposition8 ,the answer is easy with regard to propositions1 that are proved by intuition or demonstration4 ,in that case1 the person1 who assents1 not only conceives the ideas according to the proposition1 but is necessarily determined to conceive them in that particular manner1 either immediately or by the interposition of other ideas4 ,whatever is absurd is unintelligible2 nor is it possible for the imagination to conceive any thing contrary to a demonstration4 ,but as in reasonings from causation1 and concerning matters of fact1 this absolute necessity cannot take place1 and the imagination is free to conceive both sides of the question1 ,i still ask1 ,wherein consists the deference betwixt incredulity and belief8 since in both cases the conception of the idea is equally possible and requisite4 ,it will not be a satisfactory answer to say1 that a person1 who does not assent to a proposition you advance2 after having conceived the object in the same manner with you2 immediately conceives it in a different manner1 and has different ideas of it4 ,this answer is unsatisfactory2 not because it contains any falshood1 but because it discovers not all the truth4 ,it is contest1 that in all cases1 wherein we dissent from any person1 we conceive both sides of the question2 but as we can believe only one1 it evidently follows1 that the belief must make some difference betwixt that conception to which we assent1 and that from which we dissent4 ,we may mingle1 and unite1 and separate1 and confound1 and vary our ideas in a hundred different ways2 but until there appears some principle1 which fixes one of these different situations1 we have in reality no opinion3 ,and this principle1 as it plainly makes no addition to our precedent ideas1 can only change the manner of our conceiving them4 ,all the perceptions of the mind are of two kinds1 viz4 impressions and ideas1 which differ from each other only in their different degrees of force and vivacity4 ,our ideas are copyed from our impressions1 and represent them in all their parts4 ,when you would any way vary the idea of a particular object1 you can only encrease or diminish its force and vivacity4 ,if you make any other change on it1 it represents a different object or impression4 ,the case is the same as in colours4 ,a particular shade of any colour may acquire a new degree of liveliness or brightness without any other variation4 ,but when you produce any other variation1 it is no longer the same shade or colour4 ,so that as belief does nothing but vary the manner1 in which we conceive any object1 it can only bestow on our ideas an additional force and vivacity4 ,an opinion1 therefore1 or belief may be most accurately defined1 a lively idea related to or associated with a present impression4#f #f ,we may here take occasion to observe a very remarkable error1 which being frequently inculcated in the schools1 has become a kind of establishd maxim1 and is universally received by all logicians4 ,this error consists in the vulgar division of the acts of the understanding1 into ,,conception1 ,,judgment and ,,reasoning1 and in the definitions we give of them4 ,conception is defind to be the simple survey of one or more ideas3 ,judgment to be the separating or uniting of different ideas3 ,reasoning to be the separating or uniting of different ideas by the interposition of others1 which show the relation they bear to each other4 ,but these distinctions and definitions are faulty in very considerable articles4 ,for ,,first1 it is far from being true1 that in every judgment1 which we form1 we unite two different ideas2 since in that proposition1 ,,god ,,is1 or indeed any other1 which regards existence1 the idea of existence is no distinct idea1 which we unite with that of the object1 and which is capable of forming a compound idea by the union4 ,,secondly1 ,as we can thus form a proposition1 which contains only one idea1 so we may exert our reason without employing more than two ideas1 and without having recourse to a third to serve as a medium betwixt them4 ,we infer a cause immediately from its effect2 and this inference is not only a true species of reasoning1 but the strongest of all others1 and more convincing than when we interpose another idea to connect the two extremes4 ,what we may in general affirm concerning these three acts of the understanding is1 that taking them in a proper light1 they all resolve themselves into the first1 and are nothing but particular ways of conceiving our objects4 ,whether we consider a single object1 or several2 whether we dwell on these objects1 or run from them to others2 and in whatever form or order we survey them1 the act of the mind exceeds not a simple conception2 and the only remarkable difference1 which occurs on this occasion1 is1 when we join belief to the conception1 and are persuaded of the truth of what we conceive4 ,this act of the mind has never yet been explain'd by any philosopher2 and therefore ,i am at liberty to propose my hypothesis concerning it2 which is1 that it is only a strong and steady conception of any idea1 and such as approaches in some measure to an immediate impression4 ,here are the heads of those arguments1 which lead us to this conclusion4 ,when we infer the existence of an object from that of others1 some object must always be present either to the memory or senses1 in order to be the foundation of our reasoning2 since the mind cannot run up with its inferences ,,in ,,infinitum4 ,reason can never satisfy us that the existence of any one object does ever imply that of another2 so that when we pass from the impression of one to the idea or belief of another1 we are not determined by reason1 but by custom or a principle of association4 ,but belief is somewhat more than a simple idea4 ,it is a particular manner of forming an idea3 ,and as the same idea can only be varyed by a variation of its degrees of force and vivacity2 it follows upon the whole1 that belief is a lively idea produced by a relation to a present impression1 according to the foregoing definition4 ,this operation of the mind1 which forms the belief of any matter of fact1 seems hitherto to have been one of the greatest mysteries of philosophy2 though no one has so much as suspected1 that there was any difficulty in explaining it4 ,for my part ,i must own1 that ,i find a considerable difficulty in the case2 and that even when ,i think ,i understand the subject perfectly1 ,i am at a loss for terms to express my meaning4 ,i conclude1 by an induction which seems to me very evident1 that an opinion or belief is nothing but an idea1 that is different from a fiction1 not in the nature or the order of its parts1 but in the manner of its being conceived4 ,but when ,i would explain this manner1 ,i scarce find any word that fully answers the case1 but am obliged to have recourse to every one's feeling1 in order to give him a perfect notion of this operation of the mind4 ,an idea assented to ,,feels different from a fictitious idea1 that the fancy alone presents to us3 ,and this different feeling ,i endeavour to explain by calling it a superior force1 or vivacity1 or solidity1 or ,,firmness1 or steadiness4 ,this variety of terms1 which may seem so unphilosophical1 is intended only to express that act of the mind1 which renders realities more present to us than fictions1 causes them to weigh more in the thought1 and gives them a superior influence on the passions and imagination4 ,provided we agree about the thing1 it is needless to dispute about the terms4 ,the imagination has the command over all its ideas1 and can join1 and mix1 and vary them in all the ways possible4 ,it may conceive objects with all the circumstances of place and time4 ,it may set them1 in a manner1 before our eyes in their true colours1 just as they might have existed4 ,but as it is impossible1 that that faculty can ever1 of itself1 reach belief1 it is evident1 that belief consists not in the nature and order of our ideas1 but in the manner of their conception1 and in their feeling to the mind4 ,to confess1 that it is impossible to explain perfectly this feeling or manner of conception4 ,we may make use of words1 that express something near it4 ,but its true and proper name is belief1 which is a term that every one sufficiently understands in common life4 ,and in philosophy we can go no farther1 than assert1 that it is something felt by the mind1 which distinguishes the ideas of the judgment from the fictions of the imagination4 ,it gives them more force and influence2 makes them appear of greater importance2 infixes them in the mind2 and renders them the governing principles of all our actions4 ,this definition will also be found to be entirely conformable to every one's feeling and experience4 ,nothing is more evident1 than that those ideas1 to which we assent1 are more strong1 firm and vivid1 than the loose reveries of a castle-builder4 ,if one person sits down to read a book as a romance1 and another as a true history1 they plainly receive the same ideas1 and in the same order2 nor does the incredulity of the one1 and the belief of the other hinder them from putting the very same sense upon their author4 ,his words produce the same ideas in both2 though his testimony has not the same influence on them4 ,the latter has a more lively conception of all the incidents4 ,he enters deeper into the concerns of the persons3 represents to himself their actions1 and characters1 and friendships1 and enmities3 ,he even goes so far as to form a notion of their features1 and air1 and person4 ,while the former1 who gives no credit to the testimony of the author1 has a more faint and languid conception of all these particulars2 and except on account of the style and ingenuity of the composition1 can receive little entertainment from it4 ,,sect4 ,,viii4 ,,of ,,the ,,causes ,,of ,,belief4 ,having thus explained the nature of belief1 and shewn that it consists in a lively idea related to a present impression2 let us now proceed to examine from what principles it is derived1 and what bestows the vivacity on the idea4 ,i would willingly establish it as a general maxim in the science of human nature1 that when any impression becomes present to us1 it not only transports the mind to such ideas as are related to it1 but likewise communicates to them a share of its force and vivacity4 ,all the operations of the mind depend in a great measure on its disposition1 when it performs them2 and according as the spirits are more or less elevated1 and the attention more or less fixed1 the action will always have more or less vigour and vivacity4 ,when therefore any object is presented1 which elevates and enlivens the thought1 every action1 to which the mind applies itself1 will be more strong and vivid1 as ,tong as that disposition continues1 ,now it is evident the continuance of the disposition depends entirely on the objects1 about which the mind is employed2 and that any new object naturally gives a new direction to the spirits1 and changes the disposition2 as on the contrary1 when the mind fixes constantly on the same object1 or passes easily and insensibly along related objects1 the disposition has a much longer duration4 ,hence it happens1 that when the mind is once inlivened by a present impression1 it proceeds to form a more lively idea of the related objects1 by a natural transition of the disposition from the one to the other4 ,the change of the objects is so easy1 that the mind is scarce sensible of it1 but applies itself to the conception of the related idea with all the force and vivacity it acquired from the present impression4 ,if in considering the nature of relation1 and that facility of transition1 which is essential to it1 we can satisfy ourselves concerning the reality of this phnomenon1 it is well3 ,but ,i must confess ,i place my chief confidence in experience to prove so material a principle4 ,we may1 therefore1 observe1 as the first experiment to our present purpose1 that upon the appearance of the picture of an absent friend1 our idea of him is evidently inlivened by the resemblance1 and that every passion1 which that idea occasions1 whether of joy or sorrow1 acquires new force and vigour4 ,in producing this effect there concur both a relation and a present impression4 ,where the picture bears him no resemblance1 or at least was not intended for him1 it never so much as conveys our thought to him3 ,and where it is absent1 as well as the person2 though the mind may pass from the thought of the one to that of the other2 it feels its idea to be rather weekend than inlivened by that transition4 ,we take a pleasure in viewing the picture of a friend1 when it is set before us2 but when it is removed1 rather choose to consider him directly1 than by reflexion in an image1 which is equally distinct and obscure4 ,the ceremonies of the ,roman ,catholic religion may be considered as experiments of the same nature4 ,the devotees of that strange superstition usually plead in excuse of the mummeries1 with which they are upbraided1 that they feel the good effect of those external motions1 and postures1 and actions1 in enlivening their devotion1 and quickening their fervour1 which otherwise would decay away1 if directed entirely to distant and immaterial objects4 ,we shadow out the objects of our faith1 say they1 in sensible types and images1 and render them more present to us by the immediate presence of these types1 than it is possible for us to do1 merely by an intellectual view and contemplation4 ,sensible objects have always a greater influence on the fancy than any other2 and this influence they readily convey to those ideas1 to which they are related1 and which they ,resemble4 ,i shall only infer from these practices1 and this reasoning1 that the effect of resemblance in inlivening the idea is very common2 and as in every case a resemblance and a present impression must concur1 we are abundantly supplyed with experiments to prove the reality of the foregoing principle4 ,we may add force to these experiments by others of a different kind1 in considering the effects of contiguity1 as well as of resemblance4 ,it is certain1 that distance diminishes the force of every idea1 and that upon our approach to any object2 though it does not discover itself to our senses2 it operates upon the mind with an influence that imitates an immediate impression4 ,the thinking on any object readily transports the mind to what is contiguous2 but it is only the actual presence of an object1 that transports it with a superior vivacity4 ,when ,i am a few miles from home1 whatever relates to it touches me more nearly than when ,i am two hundred leagues distant2 though even at that distance the reflecting on any thing in the neighbourhood of my friends and family naturally produces an idea of them4 ,but as in this latter case1 both the objects of the mind are ideas2 notwithstanding there is an easy transition betwixt them2 that transition alone is not able to give a superior vivacity to any of the ideas1 for want of some immediate impression4#g #g ,,naturane ,,nobis1 ,,in ,,quit1 ,,datum ,,dicam1 ,,an ,,errore ,,quodam1 ,,ut1 ,,cum ,,ea ,,loca ,,videamus1 ,,in ,,quibus ,,memoria ,,dignos ,,viros ,,acceperimus ,,multurn ,,esse ,,versatos1 ,,magis ,,moveamur1 ,,quam ,,siquando ,,eorum ,,ipsorum ,,aut ,,jacta ,,audiamus1 ,,aut ,,scriptum ,,aliquod ,,legamus8 ,,velut ,,ego ,,nunc ,,moveor4 ,,venit ,,enim ,,mihi ,,platonis ,,in ,,mentem3 ,,quem ,,accipimus ,,primurn ,,hic ,,disputare ,,solitum3 ,,cujus ,,etiam ,,illi ,,hortuli ,,propinqui ,,non ,,memoriam ,,solum ,,mihi ,,afferunt1 ,,sed ,,ipsum ,,videntur ,,in ,,conspectu ,,meo ,,hic ,,ponere4 ,,hic ,,speusippus1 ,,hic ,,xenocrates1 ,,hic ,,ejus ,,auditor ,,polemo2 ,,cujus ,,ipsa ,,illa ,,sessio ,,fuit1 ,,quam ,,videamus4 ,,equidem ,,etiam ,,curiam ,,nostram1 ,,hostiliam ,,dico1 ,,non ,,hanc ,,novam1 ,,quae ,,mihi ,,minor ,,esse ,,videtur ,,post ,,quam ,,est ,,major1 ,,sole ,,barn ,,intuens ,,scipionem1 ,,catonem1 ,,laclium1 ,,nostrum ,,vero ,,in ,,primis ,,avum ,,cogitare4 ,,tanta ,,vis ,,admonitionis ,,inest ,,in ,,locis2 ,,ut ,,non ,,sine ,,causa ,,ex ,,his ,,memoriae ,,ducta ,,sit ,,disciplina4 ,cicero de ,finibus1 lib4 #e4 ,should ,i1 he said1 attribute to instinct or to some kind of illusion the fact that when we see those places in which we are told notable men spent much of their time1 we are more powerfully affected than when we hear of the exploits of the men themselves or read something written8 ,this is just what is happening to me now2 for ,i am reminded of ,plato who1 we are told1 was the first to make a practice of holding discussions here4 ,those gardens of his near by do not merely put me in mind of him2 they seem to set the man himself before my very eyes4 ,speusippus was here2 so was ,xenocrates2 so was his pupil1 ,polemo1 and that very seat which we may view was his4 ,then again1 when ,i looked at our ,senate-house 7,i mean the old building of ,hostilius1 not this new one2 when it was enlarged1 it diminished in my estimation71 ,i used to think of ,scipio1 ,cato1 ,laelius and in particular of my own grandfather4 ,such is the power of places to evoke associations2 so it is with good reason that they are used as a basis for memory training4 ,no one can doubt but causation has the same influence as the other two relations2 of resemblance and contiguity4 ,superstitious people are fond of the relicks of saints and holy men1 for the same reason that they seek after types and images1 in order to enliven their devotion1 and give them a more intimate and strong conception of those exemplary lives1 which they desire to imitate4 ,now it is evident1 one of the best relicks a devotee could procure1 would be the handywork of a saint2 and if his cloaths and furniture are ever to be considered in this light1 it is because they were once at his disposal1 and were moved and affected by him2 in which respect they are to be considered as imperfect effects1 and as connected with him by a shorter chain of consequences than any of those1 from which we learn the reality of his existence4 ,this phnomenon clearly proves1 that a present impression with a relation of causation may1 inliven any idea1 and consequently produce belief or assent1 according to the precedent definition of it4 ,but why need we seek for other arguments to prove1 that a present impression with a relation or transition of the fancy may inliven any idea1 when this very instance of our reasonings from cause and effect will alone suffice to that purpose8 ,it is certain we must have an idea of every matter of fact1 which we believe4 ,it is certain1 that this idea arises only from a relation to a present impression4 ,it is certain1 that the belief super-adds nothing to the idea1 but only changes our manner of conceiving it1 and renders it more strong and lively4 ,the present conclusion concerning the influence of relation is the immediate consequence of all these steps2 and every step appears to me sure end infallible4 ,there enters nothing into this operation of the mind but a present impression1 a lively idea1 and a relation or association in the fancy betwixt the impression and idea2 so that there can be no suspicion of mistake4 ,in order to put this whole affair in a fuller light1 let us consider it as a question in natural philosophy1 which we must determine by experience and observation4 ,i suppose there is an object presented1 from which ,i draw a certain conclusion1 and form to myself ideas1 which ,i am said to believe or assent to4 ,here it is evident1 that however that object1 which is present to my senses1 and that other1 whose existence ,i infer by reasoning1 may be thought to influence each other by their particular powers or qualities2 yet as the phenomenon of belief1 which we at present examine1 is merely internal1 these powers and qualities1 being entirely unknown1 can have no hand in producing it4 ,it is the present impression1 which is to be considered as the true and real cause of the idea1 and of the belief which attends it4 ,we must therefore endeavour to discover by experiments the particular qualities1 by which it is enabled to produce so extraordinary an effect4 ,first then ,i observe1 that the present impression has not this effect by its own proper power and efficacy1 and when considered alone1 as a single perception1 limited to the present moment4 ,i find1 that an impression1 from which1 on its first appearance1 ,i can draw no conclusion1 may afterwards become the foundation of belief1 when ,i have had experience of its usual consequences4 ,we must in every case have observed the same impression in past instances1 and have found it to be constantly conjoined with some other impression4 ,this is confirmed by such a multitude of experiments1 that it admits not of the smallest doubt4 ,from a second observation ,i conclude1 that the belief1 which attends the present impression1 and is produced by a number of past impressions and conjunctions2 that this belief1 ,i say1 arises immediately1 without any new operation of the reason or imagination4 ,of this ,i can be certain1 because ,i never am conscious of any such operation1 and find nothing in the subject1 on which it can be founded4 ,now as we call every thing ,,custom1 which proceeds from a past repetition1 without any new reasoning or conclusion1 we-may establish it as a certain truth1 that all the belief1 which follows upon any present impression1 is derived solely from that origin4 ,when we are accustomed to see two impressions conjoined together1 the appearance or idea of the one immediately carries us to the idea of the other4 ,being fully satisfyed on this head1 ,i make a third set of experiments1 in order to know1 whether any thing be requisite1 beside the customary transition1 towards the production of this phnomenon of belief4 ,i therefore change the first impression into an idea2 and observe1 that though the customary transition to the correlative idea still remains1 yet there is in reality no belief nor perswasion4 ,a present impression1 then1 is absolutely requisite to this whole operation2 and when after this ,i compare an impression with an idea1 and find that their only difference consists in their different degrees of force and vivacity1 ,i conclude upon the whole1 that belief is a more vivid and intense conception of an idea1 proceeding from its relation to a present impression4 ,thus all probable reasoning is nothing but a species of sensation4 ,it is not solely in poetry and music1 we must follow our taste and sentiment1 but likewise in philosophy4 ,when ,i am convinced of any principle1 it is only an idea1 which strikes more strongly upon me4 ,when ,i give the preference to one set of arguments above another1 ,i do nothing but decide from my feeling concerning the superiority of their influence4 ,objects have no discoverable connexion together2 nor is it from any other principle but custom operating upon the imagination1 that we can draw any inference from the appearance of one to the existence of another4 ,it will here be worth our observation1 that the past experience1 on which all our judgments concerning cause and effect depend1 may operate on our mind in such an insensible manner as never to be taken notice of1 and may even in some measure be unknown to us4 ,a person1 who stops short in his journey upon meeting a river in his way1 foresees the consequences of his proceeding forward2 and his knowledge of these consequences is conveyed to him by past experience1 which informs him of such certain conjunctions of causes and effects4 ,but can we think1 that on this occasion he reflects on any past experience1 and calls to remembrance instances1 that he has seen or heard of1 in order to discover the effects of water on animal bodies8 ,no surely2 this is not the method1 in which he proceeds in his reasoning4 ,the idea of sinking is so closely connected with that of water1 and the idea of suffocating with that of sinking1 that the mind makes the transition without the assistance of the memory4 ,the custom operates before we have time for reflection4 ,the objects seem so inseparable1 that we interpose not a moment's delay in passing from the one to the other4 ,but as this transition proceeds from experience1 and not from any primary connexion betwixt the ideas1 we must necessarily acknowledge1 that experience may produce a belief and a judgment of causes and effects by a secret operation1 and without being once thought of4 ,this removes all pretext1 if there yet remains any1 for asserting that the mind is convinced by reasoning of that principle1 that instances of which we have no experience1 must necessarily resemble those1 of which we have4 ,for we here find1 that the understanding or imagination can draw inferences from past experience1 without reflecting on it2 much more without forming any principle concerning it1 or reasoning upon that principle4 ,in general we may observe1 that in all the most established and uniform conjunctions of causes and effects1 such as those of gravity1 impulse1 solidity1 c4 the mind never carries its view expressly to consider any past experience3 ,though in other associations of objects1 which are more rare and unusual1 it may assist the custom and transition of ideas by this reflection4 ,nay we find in some cases1 that the reflection produces the belief without the custom2 or more properly speaking1 that the reflection produces the custom in an oblique and artificial manner4 ,i explain myself4 ,it is certain1 that not only in philosophy1 but even in common life1 we may attain the knowledge of a particular cause merely by one experiment1 provided it be made with judgment1 and after a careful removal of all foreign and superfluous circumstances4 ,now as after one experiment of this kind1 the mind1 upon the appearance either of the cause or the effect1 can draw an inference concerning the existence of its correlative2 and as a habit can never be acquired merely by one instance2 it may be thought1 that belief cannot in this case be esteemed the effect of custom4 ,but this difficulty will vanish1 if we consider1 that though we are here supposed to have had only one experiment of a particular effect1 yet we have many millions to convince us of this principle2 that like objects placed in like circumstances1 will always produce like effects2 and as this principle has established itself by a sufficient custom1 it bestows an evidence and firmness on any opinion1 to which it can be applied4 ,the connexion of the ideas is not habitual after one experiment3 but this connexion is comprehended under another principle1 that is habitual2 which brings us back to our hypothesis4 ,in all cases we transfer our experience to instances1 of which we have no experience1 either expressly or tacitly1 either directly or indirectly4 ,i must not conclude this subject without observing1 that it is very difficult to talk of the operations of the mind with perfect propriety and exactness2 because common language has seldom made any very nice distinctions among them1 but has generally called by the same term all such as nearly resemble each other4 ,and as this is a source almost inevitable of obscurity and confusion in the author2 so it may frequently give rise to doubts and objections in the reader1 which otherwise he would never have dreamed of4 ,thus my general position1 that an opinion or belief is nothing but a strong and lively idea derived from a present impression related to it1 maybe liable to the following objection1 by reason of a little ambiguity in those words strong and lively4 ,it may be said1 that not only an impression may give rise to reasoning1 but that an idea may also have the same influence2 especially upon my principle1 that all our ideas are derived from correspondent impressions4 ,for suppose ,i form at present an idea1 of which ,i have forgot the correspondent impression1 ,i am able to conclude from this idea1 that such an impression did once exist2 and as this conclusion is attended with belief1 it may be asked1 from whence are the qualities of force and vivacity derived1 which constitute this belief8 ,and to this ,i answer very readily1 from the present idea4 ,for as this idea is not here considered1 as the representation of any absent object1 but as a real perception in the mind1 of which we are intimately conscious1 it must be able to bestow on whatever is related to it the same quality1 call it firmness1 or solidity1 or force1 or vivacity1 with which the mind reflects upon it1 and is assured of its present existence4 ,the idea here supplies the place of an impression1 and is entirely the same1 so far as regards our present purpose4 ,upon the same principles we need not be surprized to hear of the remembrance of an idea3 that is1 of the idea of an idea1 and of its force and vivacity superior to the loose conceptions of the imagination4 ,in thinking of our past thoughts we not only delineate out the objects1 of which we were thinking1 but also conceive the action of the mind in the meditation1 that certain ,,je-,,ne-,s,,ai-,,quoi1 of which it is impossible to give any definition or description1 but which every one sufficiently understands4 ,when the memory offers an idea of this1 and represents it as past1 it is easily conceived how that idea may have more vigour and firmness1 than when we think of a past thought1 of which we have no remembrance4 ,after this any one will understand how we may form the idea of an impression and of an idea1 and how we way believe the existence of an impression and of an idea4 ,,sect4 ,,ix4 ,,of ,,the ,,effects ,,of ,,other ,,relations ,,and ,,other ,,habits4 ,however convincing the foregoing arguments may appear1 we must not rest contented with them1 but must turn the subject on every side1 in order to find some new points of view1 from which we may illustrate and confirm such extraordinary1 and such fundamental principles4 ,a scrupulous hesitation to receive any new hypothesis is so laudable a disposition in philosophers1 and so necessary to the examination of truth1 that it deserves to be complyed with1 and requires that every argument be produced1 which may tend to their satisfaction1 and every objection removed1 which may stop them in their reasoning4 ,i have often observed1 that1 beside cause and effect1 the two relations of resemblance and contiguity1 are to be considered as associating principles of thought1 and as capable of conveying the imagination from one idea to another4 ,i have also observed1 that when of two objects connected to-ether by any of these relations1 one is immediately present to the memory or senses1 not only the mind is conveyed to its co-relative by means of the associating principle2 but likewise conceives it with an additional force and vigour1 by the united operation of that principle1 and of the present impression4 ,all this ,i have observed1 in order to confirm by analogy1 my explication of our judgments concerning cause and effect4 ,but this very argument may1 perhaps1 be turned against me1 and instead of a confirmation of my hypothesis1 may become an objection to it4 ,for it may be said1 that if all the parts of that hypothesis be true1 viz4 that these three species of relation are derived from the same principles2 that their effects in informing and enlivening our ideas are the same2 and that belief is nothing but a more forcible and vivid conception of an idea2 it should follow1 that that action of the mind may not only be derived from the relation of cause and effect1 but also from those of contiguity and resemblance4 ,but as we find by experience1 that belief arises only from causation1 and that we can draw no inference from one object to another1 except they be connected by this relation1 we may conclude1 that there is some error in that reasoning1 which leads us into such difficulties4 ,this is the objection2 let us now consider its solution4 ,it is evident1 that whatever is present to the memory1 striking upon the mind with a vivacity1 which resembles an immediate impression1 must become of considerable moment in all the operations of the mind1 and must easily distinguish itself above the mere fictions of the imagination4 ,of these impressions or ideas of the memory we form a kind of system1 comprehending whatever we remember to have been present1 either to our internal perception or senses2 and every particular of that system1 joined to the present impressions1 we are pleased to call a reality4 ,but the mind stops not here4 ,for finding1 that with this system of perceptions1 there is another connected by custom1 or if you will1 by the relation of cause or effect1 it proceeds to the consideration of their ideas2 and as it feels that it is in a manner necessarily determined to view these particular ideas1 and that the custom or relation1 by which it is determined1 admits not of the least change1 it forms them into a new system1 which it likewise dignifies with the title of realities4 ,the first of these systems is the object of the memory and senses2 the second of the judgment4 ,it is this latter principle1 which peoples the world1 and brings us acquainted with such existences1 as by their removal in time and place1 lie beyond the reach of the senses and memory4 ,by means of it ,i paint the universe in my imagination1 and fix my attention on any part of it ,i please4 ,i form an idea of ,,rome1 which ,i neither see nor remember2 but which is connected with such impressions as ,i remember to have received from the conversation and books of travellers and historians4 ,this idea of ,rome ,i place in a certain situation on the idea of an object1 which ,i call the globe4 ,i join to it the conception of a particular government1 and religion1 and manners4 ,i look backward and consider its first foundation2 its several revolutions1 successes1 and misfortunes4 ,all this1 and everything else1 which ,i believe1 are nothing but ideas2 though by their force and settled order1 arising from custom and the relation of cause and effect1 they distinguish themselves from the other ideas1 which are merely the offspring of the imagination4 ,as to the influence of contiguity and resemblance1 we may observe1 that if the contiguous and resembling object be comprehended in this system of realities1 there is no doubt but these two relations will assist that of cause and effect1 and infix the related idea with more force in the imagination4 ,this ,i shall enlarge upon presently4 ,mean while ,i shall carry my observation a step farther1 and assert1 that even where the related object is but feigned1 the relation will serve to enliven the idea1 and encrease its influence4 ,a poet1 no doubt1 will be the better able to form a strong description of the ,elysian fields1 that he prompts his imagination by the view of a beautiful meadow or garden2 as at another time he may by his fancy place himself in the midst of these fabulous regions1 that by the feigned contiguity he may enliven his imagination4 ,but though ,i cannot altogether exclude the relations of resemblance and contiguity from operating on the fancy in this manner1 it is observable that1 when single1 their influence is very feeble and uncertain4 ,as the relation of cause and effect is requisite to persuade us of any real existence1 so is this persuasion requisite to give force to these other relations4 ,for where upon the appearance of an impression we not only feign another object1 but likewise arbitrarily1 and of our mere good-will and pleasure give it a particular relation to the impression1 this can have but a small effect upon the mind2 nor is there any reason1 why1 upon the return of the same impression1 we should be determined to place the same object in the same relation to it4 ,there is no manner of necessity for the mind to feign any resembling and contiguous objects2 and if it feigns such1 there is as little necessity for it always to confine itself to the same1 without any difference or variation4 ,and indeed such a fiction is founded on so little reason1 that nothing but pure caprice can determine the mind to form it2 and that principle being fluctuating and uncertain1 it is impossible it can ever operate with any considerable degree of force and constancy4 ,the mind forsees and anticipates the change2 and even from the very first instant feels the looseness of its actions1 and the weak hold it has of its objects4 ,and as this imperfection is very sensible in every single instance1 it still encreases by experience and observation1 when we compare the several instances we may remember1 and form a general rule against the reposing any assurance in those momentary glimpses of light1 which arise in the imagination from a feigned resemblance and contiguity4 ,the relation of cause and effect has all the opposite advantages4 ,the objects it presents are fixt and unalterable4 ,the impressions of the memory never change in any considerable degree2 and each impression draws along with it a precise idea1 which takes its place in the imagination as something solid and real1 certain and invariable4 ,the thought is always determined to pass from the impression to the idea1 and from that particular impression to that particular idea1 without any choice or hesitation4 ,but not content with removing this objection1 ,i shall endeavour to extract from it a proof of the present doctrine4 ,contiguity and resemblance have an effect much inferior to causation2 but still have some effect1 and augment the conviction of any opinion1 and the vivacity of any conception4 ,if this can be proved in several new instances1 beside what we have already observed1 it will be allowed no inconsiderable argument1 that belief is nothing but a lively idea related to a present impression4 ,to begin with contiguity2 it has been remarked among the ,mahometans as well as ,christians1 that those pilgrims1 who have seen ,,mecca or the ,,holy ,,land1 are ever after more faithful and zealous believers1 than those who have not had that advantage4 ,a man1 whose memory presents him with a lively image of the ,red-,sea1 and the ,desert1 and ,jerusalem1 and ,galilee1 can never doubt of any miraculous events1 which are related either by ,moses or the ,evangelists4 ,the lively idea of the places passes by an easy transition to the facts1 which are supposed to have been related to them by contiguity1 and encreases the belief by encreasing the vivacity of the conception4 ,the remembrance of these fields and rivers has the same influence on the vulgar as a new argument2 and from the same causes4 ,we may form a like observation concerning resemblance4 ,we have remarked1 that the conclusion1 which we draw from a present object to its absent cause or effect1 is never founded on any qualities1 which we observe in that object1 considered in itself1 or1 in other words1 that it is impossible to determine1 otherwise than by experience1 what will result from any phenomenon1 or what has preceded it4 ,but though this be so evident in itself1 that it seemed not to require any1 proof2 yet some philosophers have imagined that there is an apparent cause for the communication of motion1 and that a reasonable man might immediately infer the motion of one body from the impulse of another1 without having recourse to any past observation4 ,that this opinion is false will admit of an easy proof4 ,for if such an inference may be drawn merely from the ideas of body1 of motion1 and of impulse1 it must amount to a demonstration1 and must imply the absolute impossibility of any contrary supposition4 ,every effect1 then1 beside the communication of motion1 implies a formal contradiction2 and it is impossible not only that it can exist1 but also that it can be conceived4 ,but we may soon satisfy ourselves of the contrary1 by forming a clear and consistent idea of one body's moving upon another1 and of its rest immediately upon the contact1 or of its returning back in the same line in which it came2 or of its annihilation2 or circular or elliptical motion3 and in short1 of an infinite number of other changes1 which we may suppose it to undergo4 ,these suppositions are all consistent and natural2 and the reason1 ,why we imagine the communication of motion to be more consistent and natural not only than those suppositions1 but also than any other natural effect1 is founded on the relation of resemblance betwixt the cause and effect1 which is here united to experience1 and binds the objects in the closest and most intimate manner to each other1 so as to make us imagine them to be absolutely inseparable4 ,resemblance1 then1 has the same or a parallel influence with experience2 and as the only immediate effect of experience is to associate our ideas together1 it follows1 that all belief arises from the association of ideas1 according to my hypothesis4 ,it is universally allowed by the writers on optics1 that the eye at all times sees an equal number of physical points1 and that a man on the top of a mountain has no larger an image presented to his senses1 than when he is cooped up in the narrowest court or chamber4 ,it is only by experience that he infers the greatness of the object from some peculiar qualities of the image2 and this inference of the judgment he confounds with sensation1 as is common on other occasions4 ,now it is evident1 that the inference of the judgment is here much more lively than what is usual in our common reasonings1 and that a man has a more vivid conception of the vast extent of the ocean from the image he receives by the eye1 when he stands on the top of the high promontory1 than merely from hearing the roaring of the waters4 ,he feels a more sensible pleasure from its magnificence2 which is a proof of a more lively idea3 ,and he confounds his judgment with sensation1 which is another proof of it4 ,but as the inference is equally certain and immediate in both cases1 this superior vivacity of our conception in one case can proceed from nothing but this1 that in drawing an inference from the sight1 beside the customary conjunction1 there is also a resemblance betwixt the image and the object we infer2 which strengthens the relation1 and conveys the vivacity of the impression to the related idea with an easier and more natural movement4 ,no weakness of human nature is more universal and conspicuous than what we commonly call ,,credulity1 or a too easy faith in the testimony of others2 and this weakness is also very naturally accounted for from the influence of resemblance4 ,when we receive any matter of fact upon human testimony1 our faith arises from the very same origin as our inferences from causes to effects1 and from effects to causes2 nor is there anything but our experience of the governing principles of human nature1 which can give us any assurance of the veracity of men4 ,but though experience be the true standard of this1 as well as of all other judgments1 we seldom regulate ourselves entirely by it2 but have a remarkable propensity to believe whatever is reported1 even concerning apparitions1 enchantments1 and prodigies1 however contrary to daily experience and observation4 ,the words or discourses of others have an intimate connexion with certain ideas in their mind2 and these ideas have also a connexion with the facts or objects1 which they represent4 ,this latter connexion is generally much over-rated1 and commands our assent beyond what experience will justify2 which can proceed from nothing beside the resemblance betwixt the ideas and the facts4 ,other effects only point out their causes in an oblique manner2 but the testimony of men does it directly1 and is to be considered as an image as well as an effect4 ,no wonder1 therefore1 we are so rash in drawing our inferences from it1 and are less guided by experience in our judgments concerning it1 than in those upon any other subject4 ,as resemblance1 when conjoined with causation1 fortifies our reasonings2 so the want of it in any very great degree is able almost entirely to destroy them4 ,of this there is a remarkable instance in the universal carelessness and stupidity of men with regard to a future state1 where they show as obstinate an incredulity1 as they do a blind credulity on other occasions4 ,there is not indeed a more ample matter of wonder to the studious1 and of regret to the pious man1 than to observe the negligence of the bulk of mankind concerning their approaching condition2 and it is with reason1 that many eminent theologians have not scrupled to affirm1 that though the vulgar have no formal principles of infidelity1 yet they are really infidels in their hearts1 and have nothing like what we can call a belief of the eternal duration of their souls4 ,for let us consider on the one hand what divines have displayed with such eloquence concerning the importance of eternity2 and at the same time reflect1 that though in matters of rhetoric we ought to lay our account with some exaggeration1 we must in this case allow1 that the strongest figures are infinitely inferior to the subject3 ,and after this let us view on the other hand1 the prodigious security of men in this particular3 ,i ask1 if these people really believe what is inculcated on them1 and what they pretend to affirm2 and the answer is obviously in the negative4 ,as belief is an act of the mind arising from custom1 it is not strange the want of resemblance should overthrow what custom has established1 and diminish the force of the idea1 as much as that latter principle encreases it4 ,a future state is so far removed from our comprehension1 and we have so obscure an idea of the manner1 in which we shall exist after the dissolution of the body1 that all the reasons we can invent1 however strong in themselves1 and however much assisted by education1 are never able with slow imaginations to surmount this difficulty1 or bestow a sufficient authority and force on the idea4 ,i rather choose to ascribe this incredulity to the faint idea we form of our future condition1 derived from its want of resemblance to the present life1 than to that derived from its remoteness4 ,for ,i observe1 that men are everywhere concerned about what may happen after their death1 provided it regard this world2 and that there are few to whom their name1 their family1 their friends1 and their country are in any period of time entirely indifferent4 ,and indeed the want of resemblance in this case so entirely destroys belief1 that except those few1 who upon cool reflection on the importance of the subject1 have taken care by repeated meditation to imprint in their minds the arguments for a future state1 there scarce are any1 who believe the immortality of the soul with a true and established judgment2 such as is derived from the testimony of travellers and historians4 ,this appears very conspicuously wherever men have occasion to compare the pleasures and pains1 the rewards and punishments of this life with those of a future2 even though the case does not concern themselves1 and there is no violent passion to disturb their judgment4 ,the ,roman ,catholicks are certainly the most zealous of any sect in the ,christian world2 and yet you'll find few among the more sensible people of that communion who do not blame the ,gunpowder-treason1 and the massacre of ,st4 ,bartholomew1 as cruel and barbarous1 though projected or executed against those very people1 whom without any scruple they condemn to eternal and infinite punishments4 ,all we can say in excuse for this inconsistency is1 that they really do not believe what they affirm concerning a future state2 nor is there any better proof of it than the very inconsistency4 ,we may add to this a remark2 that in matters of religion men take a pleasure in being terrifyed1 and that no preachers are so popular1 as those who excite the most dismal and gloomy passions4 ,in the common affairs of life1 where we feel and are penetrated with the solidity of the subject1 nothing can be more disagreeable than fear and terror2 and it is only in dramatic performances and in religious discourses1 that they ever give pleasure4 ,in these latter cases the imagination reposes itself indolently on the idea2 and the passion1 being softened by the want of belief in the subject1 has no more than the agreeable effect of enlivening the mind1 and fixing the attention4 ,the present hypothesis will receive additional confirmation1 if we examine the effects of other kinds of custom1 as well as of other relations4 ,to understand this we must consider1 that custom1 to which ,i attribute all belief and reasoning1 may operate upon the mind in invigorating an idea after two several ways4 ,for supposing that in all past experience we have found two objects to have been always conjoined together1 it is evident1 that upon the appearance of one of these objects in an impression1 we must from custom make an easy transition to the idea of that object1 which usually attends it2 and by means of the present impression and easy transition must conceive that idea in a stronger and more lively manner1 than we do any loose floating image of the fancy4 ,but let us next suppose1 that a mere idea alone1 without any of this curious and almost artificial preparation1 should frequently make its appearance in the mind1 this idea must by degrees acquire a facility and force2 and both by its firm hold and easy introduction distinguish itself from any new and unusual idea4 ,this is the only particular1 in which these two kinds of custom agree2 and if it appear1 that their effects on the judgment1 are similar and proportionable1 we may certainly conclude1 that the foregoing explication of that faculty is satisfactory4 ,but can we doubt of this agreement in their influence on the judgment1 when we consider the nature and effects ,of ,,education8 ,all those opinions and notions of things1 to which we have been accustomed from our infancy1 take such deep root1 that it is impossible for us1 by all the powers of reason and experience1 to eradicate them2 and this habit not only approaches in its influence1 but even on many occasions prevails over that which a-rises from the constant and inseparable union of causes and effects4 ,here we most not be contented with saying1 that the vividness of the idea produces the belief3 ,we must maintain that they are individually the same4 ,the frequent repetition of any idea infixes it in the imagination2 but could never possibly of itself produce belief1 if that act of the mind was1 by the original constitution of our natures1 annexed only to a reasoning and comparison of ideas4 ,custom may lead us into some false comparison of ideas4 ,this is the utmost effect we can conceive of it4 ,but it is certain it could never supply the place of that comparison1 nor produce any act of the mind1 which naturally belonged to that principle4 ,a person1 that has lost a leg or an arm by amputation1 endeavours for a long time afterwards to serve himself with them4 ,after the death of any one1 it is a common remark of the whole family1 but especially of the servants1 that they can scarce believe him to be dead1 but still imagine him to be in his chamber or in any other place1 where they were accustomed to find him4 ,i have often heard in conversation1 after talking of a person1 that is any way celebrated1 that one1 who has no acquaintance with him1 will say1 ,i have never seen such-a-one1 but almost fancy ,i have2 so often have ,i heard talk of him4 ,all these are parallel instances4 ,if we consider this argument from ,,education in a proper light1 it will appear very convincing2 and the more so1 that it is founded on one of the most common phaenomena1 that is any where to be met with4 ,i am persuaded1 that upon examination we shall find more than one half of those opinions1 that prevail among mankind1 to be owing to education1 and that the principles1 which are thus implicitely embraced1 overballance those1 which are owing either to abstract reasoning or experience4 ,as liars1 by the frequent repetition of their lies1 come at last to remember them2 so the judgment1 or rather the imagination1 by the like means1 may have ideas so strongly imprinted on it1 and conceive them in so full a light1 that they may operate upon the mind in the same manner with those1 which the senses1 memory or reason present to us4 ,but as education is an artificial and not a natural cause1 and as its maxims are frequently contrary to reason1 and even to themselves in different times and places1 it is never upon that account recognized by philosophers2 though in reality it be built almost on the same foundation of custom and repetition as our reasonings from causes and effects4#h #h ,in general we may observe1 that as our assent to all probable reasonings is founded on the vivacity of ideas1 ,it resembles many of those whimsies and prejudices1 which are rejected under the opprobrious character of being the offspring of the imagination4 ,by this expression it appears that the word1 imagination1 is commonly usd in two different senses2 and tho nothing be more contrary to true philosophy1 than this inaccuracy1 yet in the following reasonings ,i have often been obligd to fall into it4 ,when ,i oppose the ,imagination to the memory1 ,i mean the faculty1 by which we form our fainter ideas4 ,when ,i oppose it to reason1 ,i mean the same faculty1 excluding only our demonstrative and probable reasonings4 ,when ,i oppose it to neither1 it is indifferent whether it be taken in the larger or more limited sense1 or at least the context will sufficiently explain the meaning4 ,,sect4 ,x4 ,,of ,,the ,,influence ,,of ,,belief4 ,but though education be disclaimed by philosophy1 as a fallacious ground of assent to any opinion1 it prevails nevertheless in the world1 and is the cause why all systems are apt to be rejected at first as new and unusual4 ,this perhaps will be the fate of what ,i have here advanced concerning belief1 and though the proofs ,i have produced appear to me perfectly conclusive1 ,i expect not to make many proselytes to my opinion4 ,men will scarce ever be persuaded1 that effects of such consequence can flow from principles1 which are seemingly so inconsiderable1 and that the far greatest part of our reasonings with all our actions and passions1 can be derived from nothing but custom and habit4 ,to obviate this objection1 ,i shall here anticipate a little what would more properly fall under our consideration afterwards1 when we come to treat of the passions and the sense of beauty4 ,there is implanted in the human mind a perception of pain and pleasure1 as the chief spring and moving principle of all its actions4 ,but pain and pleasure have two ways of making their appearance in the mind2 of which the one has effects very different from the other4 ,they may either appear in impression to the actual feeling1 or only in idea1 as at present when ,i mention them4 ,it is evident the influence of these upon our actions is far from being equal4 ,impressions always actuate the soul1 and that in the highest degree2 but it is not every idea which has the same effect4 ,nature has proceeded with caution in this came1 and seems to have carefully avoided the inconveniences of two extremes4 ,did impressions alone influence the will1 we should every moment of our lives be subject to the greatest calamities2 because1 though we foresaw their approach1 we should not be provided by nature with any principle of action1 which might impel us to avoid them4 ,on the other hand1 did every idea influence our actions1 our condition would not be much mended4 ,for such is the unsteadiness and activity of thought1 that the images of every thing1 especially of goods and evils1 are always wandering in the mind2 and were it moved by every idle conception of this kind1 it would never enjoy a moment's peace and tranquillity4 ,nature has1 therefore1 chosen a medium1 and has neither bestowed on every idea of good and evil the power of actuating the will1 nor yet has entirely excluded them from this influence4 ,though an idle fiction has no efficacy1 yet we find by experience1 that the ideas of those objects1 which we believe either are or will be existent1 produce in a lesser degree the same effect with those impressions1 which are immediately present to the senses and perception4 ,the effect1 then1 of belief is to raise up a simple idea to an equality with our impressions1 and bestow on it a like influence on the passions4 ,this effect it can only have by making an idea approach an impression in force and vivacity4 ,for as the different degrees of force make all the original difference betwixt an impression and an idea1 they must of consequence be the source of all the differences in the effects of these perceptions1 and their removal1 in whole or in part1 the cause of every new resemblance they acquire4 ,wherever we can make an idea approach the impressions in force and vivacity1 it will likewise imitate them in its influence on the mind2 and vice versa1 where it imitates them in that influence1 as in the present case1 this must proceed from its approaching them in force and vivacity4 ,belief1 therefore1 since it causes an idea to imitate the effects of the impressions1 must make it resemble them in these qualities1 and is nothing but ,a ,,more ,,vivid ,,and ,,intense ,,conception ,,of ,,any ,,idea4 ,this1 then1 may both serve as an additional argument for the present system1 and may give us a notion after what manner our reasonings from causation are able to operate on the will and passions4 ,as belief is almost absolutely requisite to the exciting our passions1 so the passions in their turn are very favourable to belief2 and not only such facts as convey agreeable emotions1 but very often such as give pain1 do upon that account become more readily the objects of faith and opinion4 ,a coward1 whose fears are easily awakened1 readily assents to every account of danger he meets with2 as a person of a sorrowful and melancholy disposition is very credulous of every thing1 that nourishes his prevailing passion4 ,when any affecting object is presented1 it gives the alarm1 and excites immediately a degree of its proper passion2 especially in persons who are naturally inclined to that passion4 ,this emotion passes by an easy transition to the imagination2 and diffusing itself over our idea of the affecting object1 makes us form that idea with greater force and vivacity1 and consequently assent to it1 according to the precedent system4 ,admiration and surprize have the same effect as the other passions2 and accordingly we may observe1 that among the vulgar1 quacks and projectors meet with a more easy faith upon account of their magnificent pretensions1 than if they kept themselves within the bounds of moderation4 ,the first astonishment1 which naturally attends their miraculous relations1 spreads itself over the whole soul1 and so vivifies and enlivens the idea1 that it resembles the inferences we draw from experience4 ,this is a mystery1 with which we may be already a little acquainted1 and which we shall have farther occasion to be let into in the progress of this treatise4 ,after this account of the influence of belief on the passions1 we shall find less difficulty in explaining its effects on the imagination1 however extraordinary they may appear4 ,it is certain we cannot take pleasure in any discourse1 where our judgment gives no assent to those images which are presented to our fancy4 ,the conversation of those who have acquired a habit of lying1 though in affairs of no moment1 never gives any satisfaction2 and that because those ideas they present to us1 not being attended with belief1 make no impression upon the mind4 ,poets themselves1 though liars by profession1 always endeavour to give an air of truth to their fictions2 and where that is totally neglected1 their performances1 however ingenious1 will never be able to afford much pleasure4 ,in short1 we may observe1 that even when ideas have no manner of influence on the will and passions1 truth and reality are still requisite1 in order to make them entertaining to the imagination4 ,but if we compare together all the phenomena that occur on this head1 we shall find1 that truth1 however necessary it may seem in all works of genius1 has no other effect than to procure an easy reception for the ideas1 and to make the mind acquiesce in them with satisfaction1 or at least without reluctance4 ,but as this is an effect1 which may easily be supposed to flow from that solidity and force1 which1 according to my system1 attend those ideas that are established by reasonings from causation2 it follows1 that all the influence of belief upon the fancy may be explained from that system4 ,accordingly we may observe1 that wherever that influence arises from any other principles beside truth or reality1 they supply its place1 and give an equal entertainment to the imagination4 ,poets have formed what they call a poetical system of things1 which though it be believed neither by themselves nor readers1 is commonly esteemed a sufficient foundation for any fiction4 ,we have been so much accustomed to the names of ,,mars1 ,,jupiter1 ,,venus1 that in the same manner as education infixes any opinion1 the constant repetition of these ideas makes them enter into the mind with facility1 and prevail upon the fancy1 without influencing the judgment4 ,in like manner tragedians always borrow their fable1 or at least the names of their principal actors1 from some known passage in history2 and that not in order to deceive the spectators2 for they will frankly confess1 that truth is not in any circumstance inviolably observed3 but in order to procure a more easy reception into the imagination for those extraordinary events1 which they represent4 ,but this is a precaution1 which is not required of comic poets1 whose personages and incidents1 being of a more familiar kind1 enter easily into the conception1 and are received without any such formality1 even though at first night they be known to be fictitious1 and the pure offspring of the fancy4 ,this mixture of truth and falshood in the fables of tragic poets not only serves our present purpose1 by shewing1 that the imagination can be satisfyed without any absolute belief or assurance2 but may in another view be regarded as a very strong confirmation of this system4 ,it is evident1 that poets make use of this artifice of borrowing the names of their persons1 and the chief events of their poems1 from history1 in order to procure a more easy reception for the whole1 and cause it to make a deeper impression on the fancy and affections4 ,the several incidents of the piece acquire a kind of relation by being united into one poem or representation2 and if any of these incidents be an object of belief1 it bestows a force and vivacity on the others1 which are related to it4 ,the vividness of the first conception diffuses itself along the relations1 and is conveyed1 as by so many pipes or canals1 to every idea that has any communication with the primary one4 ,this1 indeed1 can never amount to a perfect assurance2 and that because the union among the ideas is1 in a manner1 accidental3 ,but still it approaches so near1 in its influence1 as may convince us1 that they are derived from the same origin4 ,belief must please the imagination by means of the force and vivacity which attends it2 since every idea1 which has force and vivacity1 is found to be agreeable to that faculty4 ,to confirm this we may observe1 that the assistance is mutual betwixt the judgment and fancy1 as well as betwixt the judgment and passion2 and that belief not only gives vigour to the imagination1 but that a vigorous and strong imagination is of all talents the most proper to procure belief and authority4 ,it is difficult for us to withhold our assent from what is painted out to us in all the colours of eloquence2 and the vivacity produced by the fancy is in many cases greater than that which arises from custom and experience4 ,we are hurried away by the lively imagination of our author or companion2 and even he himself is often a victim to his own fire and genius4 ,nor will it be amiss to remark1 that as a lively imagination very often degenerates into madness or folly1 and bears it a great resemblance in its operations2 so they influence the judgment after the same manner1 and produce belief from the very same principles4 ,when the imagination1 from any extraordinary ferment of the blood and spirits1 acquires such a vivacity as disorders all its powers and faculties1 there is no means of distinguishing betwixt truth and falshood2 but every loose fiction or idea1 having the same influence as the impressions of the memory1 or the conclusions of the judgment1 is received on the same footing1 and operates with equal force on the passions4 ,a present impression and a customary transition are now no longer necessary to enliven our ideas4 ,every chimera of the brain is as vivid and intense as any of those inferences1 which we formerly dignifyed with the name of conclusions concerning matters of fact1 and sometimes as the present impressions of the senses4 ,we may observe the same effect of poetry in a lesser degree2 and this is common both to poetry and madness1 that the vivacity they bestow on the ideas is not derived from the particular situations or connexions of the objects of these ideas1 but from the present temper and disposition of the person4 ,but how great soever the pitch may be1 to which this vivacity rises1 it is evident1 that in poetry it never has the same feeling with that which arises in the mind1 when we reason1 though even upon the lowest species of probability4 ,the mind can easily distinguish betwixt the one and the other2 and whatever emotion the poetical enthusiasm may give to the spirits1 it is still the mere phantom of belief or persuasion4 ,the case is the same with the idea1 as with the passion it occasions4 ,there is no passion of the human mind but what may arise from poetry2 though at the same time the feelings of the passions are very different when excited by poetical fictions1 from what they are when they are from belief and reality4 ,a passion1 which is disagreeable in real life1 may afford the highest entertainment in a tragedy1 or epic poem4 ,in the latter case1 it lies not with that weight upon us3 ,it feels less firm and solid3 ,and has no other than the agreeable effect of exciting the spirits1 and rouzing the attention4 ,the difference in the passions is a clear proof of a like difference in those ideas1 from which the passions are derived4 ,where the vivacity arises from a customary conjunction with a present impression2 though the imagination may not1 in appearance1 be so much moved2 yet there is always something more forcible and real in its actions1 than in the fervors of poetry and eloquence4 ,the force of our mental actions in this case1 no more than in any other1 is not to be measured by the apparent agitation of the mind4 ,a poetical description may have a more sensible effect on the fancy1 than an historical narration4 ,it may collect more of those circumstances1 that form a compleat image or picture4 ,it may seem to set the object before us in more lively colours4 ,but still the ideas it presents are different to the feeling from those1 which arise from the memory and the judgment4 ,there is something weak and imperfect amidst all that seeming vehemence of thought and sentiment1 which attends the fictions of poetry4 ,we shall afterwards have occasion to remark both the resemblance and differences betwixt a poetical enthusiasm1 and a serious conviction4 ,in the mean time ,i cannot forbear observing1 that the great difference in their feeling proceeds in some measure from reflection and ,,general ,,rules4 ,we observe1 that the vigour of conception1 which fictions receive from poetry and eloquence1 is a circumstance merely accidental1 of which every idea is equally susceptible2 and that such fictions are connected with nothing that is real4 ,this observation makes us only lend ourselves1 so to speak1 to the fiction3 ,but causes the idea to feel very different from the eternal established persuasions founded on memory and custom4 ,they are somewhat of the same kind3 ,but the one is much inferior to the other1 both in its causes and effects4 ,a like reflection on general rules keeps us from augmenting our belief upon every encrease of the force and vivacity of our ideas4 ,where an opinion admits of no doubt1 or opposite probability1 we attribute to it a full conviction3 though the want of resemblance1 or contiguity1 may render its force inferior to that of other opinions4 ,it is thus the understanding corrects the appearances of the senses1 and makes us imagine1 that an object at twenty foot distance seems even to the eye as large as one of the same dimensions at ten4 ,we may observe the same effect of poetry in a lesser degree2 only with this difference1 that the least reflection dissipates the illusions of poetry1 and ,places the objects in their proper light4 ,it is however certain1 that in the warmth of a poetical enthusiasm1 a poet has a counterfeit belief1 and even a kind of vision of his objects3 ,and if there be any shadow of argument to support this belief1 nothing contributes more to his full conviction than a blaze of poetical figures and images1 which have their effect upon the poet himself1 as well as upon his readers4 ,,sect4 ,,xi4 ,,of ,,the ,,probability ,,of ,,chances4 ,but in order to bestow on this system its full force and evidence1 we must carry our eye from it a moment to consider its consequences1 and explain from the same principles some other species of reasoning1 which are derived from the same origin4 ,those philosophers1 who have divided human reason into knowledge and probability1 and have defined the first to be that evidence1 which arises from the comparison of ideas1 are obliged to comprehend all our arguments from causes or effects under the general term of probability4 ,but though every one be free to use his terms in what sense he pleases2 and accordingly in the precedent part of this discourse1 ,i have followed this method of expression2 it is however certain1 that in common discourse we readily affirm1 that many arguments from causation exceed probability1 and may be received as a superior kind of evidence4 ,one would appear ridiculous1 who would say1 that it is only probable the sun will rise to-morrow1 or that all men must dye2 though it is plain we have no further assurance of these facts1 than what experience affords us4 ,for this reason1 it would perhaps be more convenient1 in order at once to preserve the common signification of words1 and mark the several degrees of evidence1 to distinguish human reason into three kinds1 viz4 ,,that ,,from ,,knowledge1 ,,from ,,proofs1 ,,and ,,from ,,probabilities4 ,by knowledge1 ,i mean the assurance arising from the comparison of ideas4 ,by proofs1 those arguments1 which are derived from the relation of cause and effect1 and which are entirely free from doubt and uncertainty4 ,by probability1 that evidence1 which is still attended with uncertainty4 ,it is this last species of reasoning1 ,i proceed to examine4 ,probability or reasoning from conjecture may be divided into two kinds1 viz4 that which is founded on chance1 and that which arises from causes4 ,we shall consider each of these in order4 ,the idea of cause and effect is derived from experience1 which presenting us with certain objects constantly conjoined with each other1 produces such a habit of surveying them in that relation1 that we cannot without a sensible violence survey them iii any other4 ,on the other hand1 as chance is nothing real in itself1 and1 properly speaking1 is merely the negation of a cause1 its influence on the mind is contrary to that of causation2 and it is essential to it1 to leave the imagination perfectly indifferent1 either to consider the existence or non-existence of that object1 which is regarded as contingent4 ,a cause traces the way to our thought1 and in a manner forces us to survey such certain objects1 in such certain relations4 ,chance can only destroy this determination of the thought1 and leave the mind in its native situation of indifference2 in which1 upon the absence of a cause1 it is instantly re-instated4 ,since therefore an entire indifference is essential to chance1 no one chance can possibly be superior to another1 otherwise than as it is composed of a superior number of equal chances4 ,for if we affirm that one chance can1 after any other manner1 be superior to another1 we must at the same time affirm1 that there is something1 which gives it the superiority1 and determines the event rather to that side than the other3 ,that is1 in other words1 we must allow of a cause1 and destroy the supposition of chance2 which we had before established4 ,a perfect and total indifference is essential to chance1 and one total indifference can never in itself be either superior or inferior to another4 ,this truth is not peculiar to my system1 but is acknowledged by every one1 that forms calculations concerning chances4 ,and here it is remarkable1 that though chance and causation be directly contrary1 yet it is impossible for us to conceive this combination of chances1 which is requisite to render one hazard superior to another1 without supposing a mixture of causes among the chances1 and a conjunction of necessity in some particulars1 with a total indifference in others4 ,where nothing limits the chances1 every notion1 that the most extravagant fancy can form1 is upon a footing of equality2 nor can there be any circumstance to give one the advantage above another4 ,thus unless we allow1 that there are some causes to make the dice fall1 and preserve their form in their fall1 and lie upon some one of their sides1 we can form no calculation concerning the laws of hazard4 ,but supposing these causes to operate1 and supposing likewise all the rest to be indifferent and to be determined by chance1 it is easy to arrive at a notion of a superior combination of chances4 ,a dye that has four sides marked with a certain number of spots1 and only two with another1 affords us an obvious and easy instance of this superiority4 ,the mind is here limited by the causes to such a precise number and quality of the events2 and at the same time is undetermined in its choice of any particular event4 ,proceeding then in that reasoning1 wherein we have advanced three steps2 that chance is merely the negation of a cause1 and produces a total indifference in the mind2 that one negation of a cause and one total indifference can never be superior or inferior to another2 and that there must always be a mixture of causes among the chances1 in order to be the foundation of any reasoning3 ,we are next to consider what effect a superior combination of chances can have upon the mind1 and after what manner it influences our judgment and opinion4 ,here we may repeat all the same arguments we employed in examining that belief1 which arises from causes2 and may prove1 after the same manner1 that a superior number of chances produces our assent neither by demonstration nor probability4 ,it is indeed evident that we can never by the comparison of mere ideas make any discovery1 which can be of consequence in this affairs and that it is impossible to prove with certainty1 that any event must fall on that side where there is a superior number of chances4 ,to1 suppose in this case any certainty1 were to overthrow what we have established concerning the opposition of chances1 and their perfect equality and indifference4 ,should it be said1 that though in an opposition of chances it is impossible to determine with certainty1 on which side the event will fall1 yet we can pronounce with certainty1 that it is more likely and probable1 it will be on that side where there is a superior number of chances1 than where there is an inferior3 should this be said1 ,i would ask1 what is here meant by likelihood and probability8 ,the likelihood and probability of chances is a superior number of equal chances2 and consequently when we say it is likely the event win fall on the side1 which is superior1 rather than on the inferior1 we do no more than affirm1 that where there is a superior number of chances there is actually a superior1 and where there is an inferior there is an inferior2 which are identical propositions1 and of no consequence4 ,the question is1 by what means a superior number of equal chances operates upon the mind1 and produces belief or assent2 since it appears1 that it is neither by arguments derived from demonstration1 nor from probability4 ,in order to clear up this difficulty1 we shall suppose a person to take a dye1 formed after such a manner as that four of its sides are marked with one figure1 or one number of spots1 and two with another2 and to put this dye into the box with an intention of throwing it3 ,it is plain1 he must conclude the one figure to be more probable than the other1 and give the preference to that which is inscribed on the greatest number of sides4 ,he in a manner believes1 that this will lie uppermost2 though still with hesitation and doubt1 in proportion to the number of chances1 which are contrary3 ,and according as these contrary chances diminish1 and the superiority encreases on the other side1 his belief acquires new degrees of stability and assurance4 ,this belief arises from an operation of the mind upon the simple and limited object before us2 and therefore its nature will be the more easily discovered and explained4 ,we have nothing but one single dye to contemplate1 in order to comprehend one of the most curious operations of the understanding4 ,this dye1 formed as above1 contains three circumstances worthy of our attention4 ,first1 ,certain causes1 such as gravity1 solidity1 a cubical figure1 c4 which determine it to fall1 to preserve its form in its fall1 and to turn up one of its sides4 ,secondly1 ,a certain number of sides1 which are supposed indifferent4 ,thirdly1 ,a certain figure inscribed on each side4 ,these three particulars form the whole nature of the dye1 so far as relates to our present purpose2 and consequently are the only circumstances regarded by the mind in its forming a judgment concerning the result of such a throw4 ,let us1 therefore1 consider gradually and carefully what must be the influence of these circumstances on the thought and imagination4 ,first1 ,we have already observed1 that the mind is determined by custom to pass from any cause to its effect1 and that upon the appearance of the one1 it is almost impossible for it not to form an idea of the other4 ,their constant conjunction in past instances has produced such a habit in the mind1 that it always conjoins them in its thought1 and infers the existence of the one from that of its usual attendant4 ,when it considers the dye as no longer supported by the box1 it can not without violence regard it as suspended in the air2 but naturally places it on the table1 and views it as turning up one of its sides4 ,this is the effect of the intermingled causes1 which are requisite to our forming any calculation concerning chances4 ,secondly1 ,it is supposed1 that though the dye be necessarily determined to fall1 and turn up one of its sides1 yet there is nothing to fix the particular side1 but that this is determined entirely by chance4 ,the very nature and essence of chance is a negation of causes1 and the leaving the mind in a perfect indifference among those events1 which are supposed contingent4 ,when therefore the thought is determined by the causes to consider the dye as falling and turning up one of its sides1 the chances present all these sides as equal1 and make us consider every one of them1 one after another1 as alike probable and possible4 ,the imagination passes from the cause1 viz4 the throwing of the dye1 to the effect1 viz4 the turning up one of the six sides2 and feels a kind of impossibility both of stopping short in the way1 and of forming any other idea4 ,but as all these six sides are incompatible1 and the dye cannot turn up above one at once1 this principle directs us not to consider all of them at once as lying uppermost2 which we look upon as impossible3 ,neither does it direct us with its entire force to any particular side2 for in that case this side would be considered as certain and inevitable2 but it directs us to the whole six sides after such a manner as to divide its force equally among them4 ,we conclude in general1 that some one of them must result from the throw3 ,we run all of them over in our minds3 ,the determination of the thought is common to all2 but no more of its force falls to the share of any one1 than what is suitable to its proportion with the rest4 ,it is after this manner the original impulse1 and consequently the vivacity of thought1 arising from the causes1 is divided and split in pieces by the intermingled chances4 ,we have already seen the influence of the two first qualities of the dye1 viz4 the causes1 and the number and indifference of the sides1 and have learned how they give an impulse to the thought1 and divide that impulse into as many parts as there are unites in the number of sides4 ,we must now consider the effects of the third particular1 viz4 the figures inscribed on each side4 ,it is evident that where several sides have the same figure inscribe on them1 they must concur in their influence on the mind1 and must unite upon one image or idea of a figure all those divided impulses1 that were dispersed over the several sides1 upon which that figure is inscribed4 ,were the question only what side will be turned up1 these are all perfectly equal1 and no one could ever have any advantage above another4 ,but as the question is concerning the figure1 and as the same figure is presented by more than one side3 it is evident1 that the impulses belonging to all these sides must re-unite in that one figure1 and become stronger and more forcible by the union4 ,four sides are supposed in the present case to have the same figure inscribed on them1 and two to have another figure4 ,the impulses of the former are1 therefore1 superior to those of the latter4 ,but as the events are contrary1 and it is impossible both these figures can be turned up2 the impulses likewise become contrary1 and the inferior destroys the superior1 as far as its strength goes4 ,the vivacity of the idea is always proportionable to the degrees of the impulse or tendency to the transition2 and belief is the same with the vivacity of the idea1 according to the precedent doctrine4 ,,sect4 ,,xii4 ,,of ,,the ,,probability ,,of ,,causes4 ,what ,i have said concerning the probability of chances can serve to no other purpose1 than to assist us in explaining the probability of causes2 since it is commonly allowed by philosophers1 that what the vulgar call chance is nothing but a secret and concealed cause4 ,that species of probability1 therefore1 is what we must chiefly examine4 ,the probabilities of causes are of several kinds2 but are all derived from the same origin1 viz4 ,,the ,,association ,,of ,,ideas ,,to ,a ,,present ,,impression4 ,as the habit1 which produces the association1 arises from the frequent conjunction of objects1 it must arrive at its perfection by degrees1 and must acquire new force from each instance1 that falls under our observation4 ,the first instance has little or no force3 ,the second makes some addition to it3 ,the third becomes still more sensible2 and it is by these slow steps1 that our judgment arrives at a full assurance4 ,but before it attains this pitch of perfection1 it passes through several inferior degrees1 and in all of them is only to be esteemed a presumption or probability4 ,the gradation1 therefore1 from probabilities to proofs is in many cases insensible2 and the difference betwixt these kinds of evidence is more easily perceived in the remote degrees1 than in the near and contiguous4 ,it is worthy of remark on this occasion1 that though the species of probability here explained be the first in order1 and naturally takes place before any entire proof can exist1 yet no one1 who is arrived at the age of maturity1 can any longer be acquainted with it4 ,it is true1 nothing is more common than for people of the most advanced knowledge to have attained only an imperfect experience of many particular events2 which naturally produces only an imperfect habit and transition3 ,but then we must consider1 that the mind1 having formed another observation concerning the connexion of causes and effects1 gives new force to its reasoning from that observation2 and by means of it can build an argument on one single experiment1 when duly prepared and examined4 ,what we have found once to follow from any object1 we conclude will for ever follow from it2 and if this maxim be not always built upon as certain1 it is not for want of a sufficient number of experiments1 but because we frequently meet with instances to the contrary2 which leads us to the second species of probability1 where there is a contrariety in our experience and observation4 ,it would be very happy for men in the conduct of their lives and actions1 were the same objects always conjoined together1 and1 we had nothing to fear but the mistakes of our own judgment1 without having any reason to apprehend the uncertainty of nature4 ,but as it is frequently found1 that one observation is contrary to another1 and that causes and effects follow not in the same order1 of which we have ,i had experience1 we are obliged to vary our reasoning on1 account of this uncertainty1 and take into consideration the contrariety of events4 ,the first question1 that occurs on this head1 is concerning the nature and causes of the contrariety4 ,the vulgar1 who take things according to their first appearance1 attribute the uncertainty of events to such an uncertainty in the causes1 as makes them often fail of their usual influence1 though they meet with no obstacle nor impediment in their operation4 ,but philosophers observing1 that almost in every part of nature there is contained a vast variety of springs and principles1 which are hid1 by reason of their minuteness or remoteness1 find that it is at least possible the contrariety of events may not proceed from any contingency in the cause1 but from the secret operation of contrary causes4 ,this possibility is converted into certainty by farther observation1 when they remark1 that upon an exact scrutiny1 a contrariety of effects always betrays a contrariety of causes1 and proceeds from their mutual hindrance and opposition4 ,a peasant can give no better reason for the stopping of any clock or watch than to say1 that commonly it does not go right3 ,but an artizan easily perceives1 that the same force in the spring or pendulum has always the same influence on the wheels2 but fails of its usual effect1 perhaps by reason of a grain of dust1 which puts a stop to the whole movement4 ,from the observation of several parallel instances1 philosophers form a maxim1 that the connexion betwixt all causes and effects is equally necessary1 and that its seeming uncertainty in some instances proceeds from the secret opposition of contrary causes4 ,but however philosophers and the vulgar may differ in their explication of the contrariety of events1 their inferences from it are always of the same kind1 and founded on the same principles4 ,a contrariety of events in the past may give us a kind of hesitating belief for the future after two several ways4 ,first1 ,by producing an imperfect habit and transition from the present impression to the related idea4 ,when the conjunction of any two objects is frequent1 without being entirely constant1 the mind is determined to pass from one object to the other2 but not with so entire a habit1 as when the union is uninterrupted1 and all the instances we have ever met with are uniform and of a piece-44 ,we find from common experience1 in our actions as well as reasonings1 that a constant perseverance in any course of life produces a strong inclination and tendency to continue for the future2 though there are habits of inferior degrees of force1 proportioned to the inferior degrees of steadiness and uniformity in our conduct4 ,there is no doubt but this principle sometimes takes place1 and produces those inferences we draw from contrary phaenomena3 though ,i am perswaded1 that upon examination we shall not find it to be the principle1 that most commonly influences the mind in this species of reasoning4 ,when we follow only the habitual determination of the mind1 we make the transition without any reflection1 and interpose not a moment's delay betwixt the view of one object and the belief of that1 which is often found to attend it4 ,as the custom depends not upon any deliberation1 it operates immediately1 without allowing any time for reflection4 ,but this method of proceeding we have but few instances of in our probable reasonings2 and even fewer than in those1 which are derived from the uninterrupted conjunction of objects4 ,in the former species of reasoning we commonly take knowingly into consideration the contrariety of past events2 we compare the different sides of the contrariety1 and carefully weigh the experiments1 which we have on each side3 ,whence we may conclude1 that our reasonings of this kind arise not directly from the habit1 but in an oblique manner2 which we must now endeavour to explain4 ,it is evident1 that when an object is attended with contrary effects1 we judge of them only by our past experience1 and always consider those as possible1 which we have observed to follow from it4 ,and as past experience regulates our judgment concerning the possibility of these effects1 so it does that concerning their probability2 and that effect1 which has been the most common1 we always esteem the most likely4 ,here then are two things to be considered1 viz4 the reasons which determine us to make the past a standard for the future1 and the manner how we extract a single judgment from a contrariety of past events4 ,first we may observe1 that the supposition1 that the future resembles the past1 is not founded on arguments of any kind1 but is derived entirely from habit1 by which we are determined to expect for the future the same train of objects1 to which we have been accustomed4 ,this habit or determination to transfer the past to the future is full and perfect2 and consequently the first impulse of the imagination in this species of reasoning is endowed with the same qualities4 ,but1 secondly1 when in considering past experiments we find them of a contrary nature1 this determination1 though full and perfect in itself1 presents us with no steady object1 but offers us a number of disagreeing images in a certain order and proportion4 ,the first impulse1 therefore1 is here broke into pieces1 and diffuses itself over all those images1 of which each partakes an equal share of that force and vivacity1 that is derived from the impulse4 ,any of these past events may again happen2 and we judge1 that when they do happen1 they will be mixed in the same proportion as in the past4 ,if our intention1 therefore1 be to consider the proportions of contrary events in a great number of instances1 the images presented by our past experience must remain in their ,,first ,,form1 and preserve their first proportions4 ,suppose1 for instance1 ,i have found by long observation1 that of twenty ships1 which go to sea1 only nineteen return4 ,suppose ,i see at present twenty ships that leave the port3 ,i transfer my past experience to the future1 and represent to myself nineteen of these ships as returning in safety1 and one as perishing4 ,concerning this there can be no difficulty4 ,but as we frequently run over those several ideas of past events1 in order to form a judgment concerning one single event1 which appears uncertain2 this consideration must change the ,,first ,,form of our ideas1 and draw together the divided images presented by experience2 since it is to it we refer the determination of that particular event1 upon which we reason4 ,many of these images are supposed to concur1 and a superior number to concur on one side4 ,these agreeing images unite together1 and render the idea more strong and lively1 not only than a mere fiction of the imagination1 but also than any idea1 which is supported by a lesser number of experiments4 ,each new experiment is as a new stroke of the pencil1 which bestows an additional vivacity on the colours without either multiplying or enlarging the figure4 ,this operation of the mind has been so fully explained in treating of the probability of chance1 that ,i need not here endeavour to render it more intelligible4 ,every past experiment may be considered as a kind of chance2 ,i it being uncertain to us1 whether the object will exist conformable to one experiment or another4 ,and for this reason every thing that has been said on the one subject is applicable to both4 ,thus upon the whole1 contrary experiments produce an imperfect belief1 either by weakening the habit1 or by dividing and afterwards joining in different parts1 that perfect habit1 which makes us conclude in general1 that instances1 of which we have no experience1 must necessarily resemble those of which we have4 ,to justify still farther this account of the second species of probability1 where we reason with knowledge and reflection from a contrariety of past experiments1 ,i shall propose the following considerations1 without fearing to give offence by that air of subtilty1 which attends them4 ,just reasoning ought still1 perhaps1 to retain its force1 however subtile2 in the same manner as matter preserves its solidity in the air1 and fire1 and animal spirits1 as well as in the grosser and more sensible forms4 ,first1 ,we may observe1 that there is no probability so great as not to allow of a contrary possibility2 because otherwise it would cease to be a probability1 and would become a certainty4 ,that probability of causes1 which is most extensive1 and which we at present examine1 depends on a contrariety of experiments3 and it is evident an experiment in the past proves at least a possibility for the future4 ,secondly1 ,the component parts of this possibility and probability are of the same nature1 and differ in number only1 but not in kind4 ,it has been observed1 that all single chances are entirely equal1 and that the only circumstance1 which can give any event1 that is contingent1 a superiority over another is a superior number of chances4 ,in like manner1 as the uncertainty of causes is discovery by experience1 which presents us with a view of contrary events1 it is plain1 that when we transfer the past to the future1 the known to the unknown1 every past experiment has the same weight1 and that it is only a superior number of them1 which can throw the ballance on any side4 ,the possibility1 therefore1 which enters into every reasoning of this kind1 is composed of parts1 which are of the same nature both among themselves1 and with those1 that compose the opposite probability4 ,thirdly1 ,we may establish it as a certain maxim1 that in all moral as well as natural phaenomena1 wherever any cause consists of a number of parts1 and the effect encreases or diminishes1 according to the variation of that number1 the effects properly speaking1 is a compounded one1 and arises from the union of the several effects1 that proceed from each part of the cause4 ,thus1 because the gravity of a body encreases or diminishes by the encrease or diminution of its parts1 we conclude that each part contains this quality and contributes to the gravity of the whole4 ,the absence or presence of a part of the cause is attended with that of a proportionable part of the effect4 ,this connexion or constant conjunction sufficiently proves the one part to be the cause of the other4 ,as the belief which we have of any event1 encreases or diminishes according to the number of chances or past experiments1 it is to be considered as a compounded effect1 of which each part arises from a proportionable number of chances or experiments4 ,let us now join these three observations1 and see what conclusion we can draw from them4 ,to every probability there is an opposite possibility4 ,this possibility is composed of parts1 that are entirely of the same nature with those of the probability2 and consequently have the same influence on the mind and understanding4 ,the belief1 which attends the probability1 is a compounded effect1 and is formed by the concurrence of the several effects1 which proceed from each part of the probability4 ,since therefore each part of the probability contributes to the production of the belief1 each part of the possibility must have the same influence on the opposite side2 the nature of these parts being entirely the same4 ,the contrary belief1 attending the possibility1 implies a view of a certain object1 as well as the probability does an opposite view4 ,in this particular both these degrees of belief are alike4 ,the only manner then1 in which the superior number of similar component parts in the one can exert its influence1 and prevail above the inferior in the other1 is by producing a stronger and more lively view of its object4 ,each part presents a particular view2 and all these views uniting together produce one general view1 which is fuller and more distinct by the greater number of causes or principles1 from which it is derived4 ,the component parts of the probability and possibility1 being alike in their nature1 must produce like effects2 and the likeness of their effects consists in this1 that each of them presents a view of a particular object4 ,but though these parts be alike in their nature1 they are very different in their quantity and number2 and this difference must appear in the effect as well as the similarity4 ,now as the view they present is in both cases full and entire1 and comprehends the object in all its parts1 it is impossible that in this particular there can be any difference2 nor is there any thing but a superior vivacity in the probability1 arising from the concurrence of a superior number of views1 which can distinguish these effects4 ,here is almost the same argument in a different light4 ,all our reasonings concerning the probability of causes are founded on the transferring of past to future4 ,the transferring of any past experiment to the future is sufficient to give us a view of the object2 whether that experiment be single or combined with others of the same kind2 whether it be entire1 or opposed by others of a contrary kind4 ,suppose1 then1 it acquires both these qualities of combination and opposition1 it loses not upon that account its former power of presenting a view of the object1 but only concurs with and opposes other experiments1 that have a like influence4 ,a question1 therefore1 may arise concerning the manner both of the concurrence and opposition4 ,as to the concurrence1 there is only the choice left betwixt these two hypotheses4 ,first1 ,that the view of the object1 occasioned by the transference of each past experiment1 preserves itself entire1 and only multiplies the number of views4 ,or1 ,,secondly1 ,that it runs into the other similar and correspondent views1 and gives them a superior degree of force and vivacity4 ,but that the first hypothesis is erroneous1 is evident from experience1 which informs us1 that the belief1 attending any reasoning1 consists in one conclusion1 not in a multitude of similar ones1 which would only distract the mind1 and in many cases would be too numerous to be comprehended distinctly by any finite capacity4 ,it remains1 therefore1 as the only reasonable opinion1 that these similar views run into each other1 and unite their forces2 so as to produce a stronger and clearer view1 than what arises from any one alone4 ,this is the manner1 in which past experiments concur1 when they are transfered to any future event4 ,as to the manner of their opposition1 it is evident1 that as the contrary views are incompatible with each other1 and it is impossible the object can at once exist conformable to both of them1 their influence becomes mutually destructive1 and the mind is determined to the superior only with that force1 which remains1 after subtracting the inferior4 ,i am sensible how abstruse all this reasoning must appear to the generality of readers1 who not being accustomed to such profound reflections on the intellectual faculties of the mind1 will be apt to reject as chimerical whatever strikes not in with the common received notions1 and with the easiest and most obvious principles of philosophy4 ,and no doubt there are some pains required to enter into these arguments2 though perhaps very little are necessary to perceive the imperfection of every vulgar hypothesis on this subject1 and the little light1 which philosophy can yet afford us in such sublime and such curious speculations4 ,let men be once fully perswaded of these two principles1 ,,that ,,there1 ,,is ,,nothing ,,in ,,any ,,object1 ,,considered ,,in ,,itself1 ,,which ,,can ,,afford ,,us ,a ,,reason ,,for ,,drawing ,a ,,conclusion ,,beyond it2 and1 ,,that ,,even ,,after ,,the ,,observation ,,of ,,the ,,frequent ,,or ,,constant ,,conjunction ,,of ,,objects1 ,,we ,,have ,,no ,,reason ,,to ,,draw ,,any ,,inference ,,concerning ,,any ,,object ,,beyond ,,those ,,of ,,which ,,we ,,have ,,had ,,experience2 ,i say1 let men be once fully convinced of these two principles1 and this will throw them so loose from all common systems1 that they will make no difficulty of receiving any1 which may appear the most extraordinary4 ,these principles we have found to be sufficiently convincing1 even with regard to our most certain reasonings from causation3 ,but ,i shall venture to affirm1 that with regard to these conjectural or probable reasonings they still acquire a new degree of evidence4 ,first1 ,it is obvious1 that in reasonings of this kind1 it is not the object presented to us1 which1 considered in itself1 affords us any reason to draw a conclusion concerning any other object or event4 ,for as this latter object is supposed uncertain1 and as the uncertainty is derived from a concealed contrariety of causes in the former1 were any of the causes placed in the known qualities of that object1 they would no longer be concealed1 nor would our conclusion be uncertain4 ,but1 secondly1 it is equally obvious in this species of reasoning1 that if the transference of the past to the future were founded merely on a conclusion of the understanding1 it could never occasion any belief or assurance4 ,when we transfer contrary experiments to the future1 we can only repeat these contrary experiments with their particular proportions2 which could not produce assurance in any single event1 upon which we reason1 unless the fancy melted together all those images that concur1 and extracted from them one single idea or image1 which is intense and lively in proportion to the number of experiments from which it is derived1 and their superiority above their antagonists4 ,our past experience presents no determinate object2 and as our belief1 however faint1 fixes itself on a determinate object1 it is evident that the belief arises not merely from the transference of past to future1 but from some operation of the fancy conjoined with it4 ,this may lead us to conceive the manner1 in which that faculty enters into all our reasonings4 ,i shall conclude this subject with two reflections1 which may deserve our attention4 ,the ,,first may be explained after this manner4 ,when the mind forms a reasoning concerning any matter of fact1 which is only probable1 it casts its eye backward upon past experience1 and transferring it to the future1 is presented with so many contrary views of its object1 of which those that are of the same kind uniting together1 and running into one act of the mind1 serve to fortify and inliven it4 ,but suppose that this multitude of views or glimpses of an object proceeds not from experience1 but from a voluntary act of the imagination2 this effect does not follow1 or at least1 follows not in the same degree4 ,for though custom and education produce belief by such a repetition1 as is not derived from experience1 yet this requires a long tract of time1 along with a very frequent and undesigned repetition4 ,in general we may pronounce1 that a person who would voluntarily repeat any idea in his mind1 though supported by one past experience1 would be no more inclined to believe the existence of its object1 than if he had contented himself with one survey of it4 ,beside the effect of design2 each act of the mind1 being separate and independent1 has a separate influence1 and joins not its force with that of its fellows4 ,not being united by any common object1 producing them1 they have no relation to each other2 and consequently make no transition or union of forces4 ,this phnomenon we shall understand better afterwards4 ,my second reflection is founded on those large probabilities1 which the mind can judge of1 and the minute differences it can observe betwixt them4 ,when the chances or experiments on one side amount to ten thousand1 and on the other to ten thousand and one1 the judgment gives the preference to the latter1 upon account of that superiority2 though it is plainly impossible for the mind to run over every particular view1 and distinguish the superior vivacity of the image arising from the superior number1 where the difference is so inconsiderable4 ,we have a parallel instance in the affections4 ,it is evident1 according to the principles above-mentioned1 that when an object produces any passion in us1 which varies according to the different quantity of the object2 ,i say1 it is evident1 that the passion1 properly speaking1 is not a simple emotion1 but a compounded one1 of a great number of weaker passions1 derived from a view of each part of the object4 ,for otherwise it were impossible the passion should encrease by the encrease of these parts4 ,thus a man1 who desires a thousand pound1 has in reality a thousand or more desires which uniting together1 seem to make only one passion2 though the composition evidently betrays itself upon every alteration of the object1 by the preference he gives to the larger number1 if superior only by an unite4 ,yet nothing can be more certain1 than that so small a difference would not be discernible in the passions1 nor could render them distinguishable from each other4 ,the difference1 therefore1 of our conduct in preferring the greater number depends not upon our passions1 but upon custom1 and general rules4 ,we have found in a multitude of instances1 that the augmenting the numbers of any sum augments the passion1 where the numbers are precise and the difference sensible4 ,the mind can perceive from its immediate feeling1 that three guineas produce a greater passion than two2 and this it transfers to larger numbers1 because of the resemblance2 and by a general rule assigns to a thousand guineas1 a stronger passion than to nine hundred and ninety nine4 ,these general rules we shall explain presently4 ,but beside these two species of probability1 which are derived from an imperfect experience and from contrary causes1 there is a third arising from ,,analogy1 which differs from them in some material circumstances4 ,according to the hypothesis above explained all kinds of reasoning from causes or effects are founded on two particulars1 viz41 the constant conjunction of any two objects in all past experience1 and the resemblance of a present object to any one of them4 ,the effect of these two particulars is1 that the present object invigorates and inlivens the imagination2 and the resemblance1 along with the constant union1 conveys this force and vivacity to the related idea2 which we are therefore said to believe1 or assent to4 ,if you weaken either the union or resemblance1 you weaken the principle of transition1 and of consequence that belief1 which arises from it4 ,the vivacity of the first impression cannot be fully conveyed to the related idea1 either where the conjunction of their objects is not constant1 or where the present impression does not perfectly resemble any of those1 whose union we are accustomed to observe4 ,in those probabilities of chance and causes above-explained1 it is the constancy of the union1 which is diminished2 and in the probability derived from analogy1 it is the resemblance only1 which is affected4 ,without some degree of resemblance1 as well as union1 it is impossible there can be any reasoning3 but as this resemblance admits of many different degrees1 the reasoning becomes proportionably more or less firm and certain4 ,an experiment loses of its force1 when transferred to instances1 which are not exactly resembling2 though it is evident it may still retain as much as may be the foundation of probability1 as long as there is any resemblance remaining4 ,,sect4 ,,xiii4 ,,of ,,unphilosophical ,,probability4 ,all these kinds of probability are received by philosophers1 and allowed to be reasonable foundations of belief and opinion4 ,but there are others1 that are derived from the same principles1 though they have not had the good fortune to obtain the same sanction4 ,the first probability of this kind may be accounted for thus4 ,the diminution of the union1 and of the resemblance1 as above explained1 diminishes the facility of the transition1 and by that means weakens the evidence2 and we may farther observe1 that the same diminution of the evidence will follow from a diminution of the impression1 and from the shading of those colours1 under which it appears to the memory or senses4 ,the argument1 which we found on any matter of fact we remember1 is more or less convincing according as the fact is recent or remote2 and though the difference in these degrees of evidence be not received by philosophy as solid and legitimate2 because in that case an argument must have a different force to day1 from what it shall have a month hence2 yet notwithstanding the opposition of philosophy1 it is certain1 this circumstance has a considerable influence on the understanding1 and secretly changes the authority of the same argument1 according to the different times1 in which it is proposed to us4 ,a greater force and vivacity in the impression naturally conveys a greater to the related idea2 and it is on the degrees of force and vivacity1 that the belief depends1 according to the foregoing system4 ,there is a second difference1 which we may frequently observe in our degrees of belief and assurance1 and which never fails to take place1 though disclaimed by philosophers4 ,an experiment1 that is recent and fresh in the memory1 affects us more than one that is in some measure obliterated2 and has a superior influence on the judgment1 as well as on the passions4 ,a lively impression produces more assurance than a faint one2 because it has more original force to communicate to the related idea1 which thereby acquires a greater force and vivacity4 ,a recent observation has a like effect2 because the custom and transition is there more entire1 and preserves better the original force in the communication4 ,thus a drunkard1 who has seen his companion die of a debauch1 is struck with that instance for some time1 and dreads a like accident for himself3 ,but as the memory of it decays away by degrees1 his former security returns1 and the danger seems less certain and real4 ,i add1 as a third instance of this kind1 that though our reasonings from proofs and from probabilities be considerably different from each other1 yet the former species of reasoning often degenerates insensibly into the latter1 by nothing but the multitude of connected arguments4 ,it is certain1 that when an inference is drawn immediately from an object1 without any intermediate cause or effect1 the conviction is much stronger1 and the persuasion more lively1 than when the imagination is carryed through a long chain of connected arguments1 however infallible the connexion of each link may be esteemed4 ,it is from the original impression1 that the vivacity of all the ideas is derived1 by means of the customary transition of the imagination2 and it is evident this vivacity must gradually decay in proportion to the distance1 and must lose somewhat in each transition4 ,sometimes this distance has a greater influence than even contrary experiments would have2 and a man may receive a more lively conviction from a probable reasoning1 which is close and immediate1 than from a long chain of consequences1 though just and conclusive in each part4 ,nay it is seldom such reasonings produce any conviction2 and one must have a very strong and firm imagination to preserve the evidence to the end1 where it passes through so many1 stages4 ,but here it may not be amiss to remark a very curious phnomenon1 which the present subject suggests to us4 ,it is evident there is no point of ancient history1 of which we can have any assurance1 but by passing through many millions of causes and effects1 and through a chain of arguments of almost an immeasurable length4 ,before the knowledge of the fact could come to the first historian1 it must be conveyed through many mouths2 and after it is committed to writing1 each new copy is a new object1 of which the connexion with the foregoing is known only by experience and observation4 ,perhaps1 therefore1 it may be concluded from the precedent reasoning1 that the evidence of all ancient history must now be lost2 or at least1 will be lost in time1 as the chain of causes encreases1 and runs on to a greater length4 ,but as it seems contrary to common sense to think1 that if the republic of letters1 and the art of printing continue on the same footing as at present1 our posterity1 even after a thousand ages1 can ever doubt if there has been such a man as ,,julius ,,caesar2 this may be considered as an objection to the present system4 ,if belief consisted only in a certain vivacity1 conveyed from an original impression1 it would decay by the length of the transition1 and must at last be utterly extinguished3 ,and vice versa1 if belief on some occasions be not capable of such an extinction2 it must be something different from that vivacity4 ,before ,i answer this objection ,i shall observe1 that from this topic there has been borrowed a very celebrated argument against the ,christian ,religion2 but with this difference1 that the connexion betwixt each link of the chain in human testimony has been there supposed not to go beyond probability1 and to be liable to a degree of doubt and uncertainty4 ,and indeed it must be confest1 that in this manner of considering the subject1 7which however is not a true one7 there is no history or tradition1 but what must in the end lose all its force and evidence4 ,every new probability diminishes the original conviction2 and however great that conviction may be supposed1 it is impossible it can subsist under such re-iterated diminutions4 ,this is true in general2 though we shall find afterwards1#i that there is one very memorable exception1 which is of vast consequence in the present subject of the understanding4 #i ,part ,,iv4 ,sect4 #a4 ,mean while to give a solution of the preceding objection upon the supposition1 that historical evidence amounts at first to an entire proof2 let us consider1 that though the links are innumerable1 that connect any original fact with the present impression1 which is the foundation of belief2 yet they are all of the same kind1 and depend on the fidelity of ,printers and ,copyists4 ,one edition passes into another1 and that into a third1 and so on1 till we come to that volume we peruse at present4 ,there is no variation in the steps4 ,after we know one we know all of them2 and after we have made one1 we can have no scruple as to the rest4 ,this circumstance alone preserves the evidence of history1 and will perpetuate the memory of the present age to the latest posterity4 ,if all the long chain of causes and effects1 which connect any past event with any volume of history1 were composed of parts different from each other1 and which it were necessary for the mind distinctly to conceive1 it is impossible we should preserve to the end any belief or evidence4 ,but as most of these proofs are perfectly resembling1 the mind runs easily along them1 jumps from one part to another with facility1 and forms but a confused and general notion of each link4 ,by this means a long chain of argument1 has as little effect in diminishing the original vivacity1 as a much shorter would have1 if composed of parts1 which were different from each other1 and of which each required a distinct consideration4 ,a fourth unphilosophical species of probability is that derived from general rules1 which we rashly form to ourselves1 and which are the source of what we properly call ,,prejudice4 ,an ,,irishman cannot have wit1 and a ,frenchman cannot have solidity2 for which reason1 though the conversation of the former in any instance be visibly very agreeable1 and of the latter very judicious1 we have entertained such a prejudice against them1 that they must be dunces or fops in spite of sense and reason4 ,human nature is very subject to errors of this kind2 and perhaps this nation as much as any other4 ,should it be demanded why men form general rules1 and allow them to influence their judgment1 even contrary to present observation and experience1 ,i should reply1 that in my opinion it proceeds from those very principles1 on which all judgments concerning causes and effects depend4 ,our judgments concerning cause and effect are derived from habit and experience2 and when we have been accustomed to see one object united to another1 our imagination passes from the first to the second1 by a natural transition1 which precedes reflection1 and which cannot be prevented by it4 ,now it is the nature of custom not only to operate with its full force1 when objects are presented1 that are exactly the same with those to which we have been accustomed2 but also to operate in an inferior degree1 when we discover such as are similar2 and though the habit loses somewhat of its force by every difference1 yet it is seldom entirely destroyed1 where any considerable circumstances remain the same4 ,a man1 who has contracted a custom of eating fruit by the use of pears or peaches1 will satisfy himself with melons1 where he cannot find his favourite fruit2 as one1 who has become a drunkard by the use of red wines1 will be carried almost with the same violence to white1 if presented to him4 ,from this principle ,i have accounted for that species of probability1 derived from analogy1 where we transfer our experience in past instances to objects which are resembling1 but are not exactly the same with those concerning which we have had experience4 ,in proportion as the resemblance decays1 the probability diminishes2 but still has some force as long as there remain any traces of the resemblance4 ,this observation we may carry farther2 and may remark1 that though custom be the foundation of all our judgments1 yet sometimes it has an effect on the imagination in opposition to the judgment1 and produces a contrariety in our sentiments concerning the same object4 ,i explain myself4 ,in almost all kinds of causes there is a complication of circumstances1 of which some are essential1 and others superfluous2 some are absolutely requisite to the production of the effect1 and others are only conjoined by accident4 ,now we may observe1 that when these superfluous circumstances are numerous1 and remarkable1 and frequently conjoined with the essential1 they have such an influence on the imagination1 that even in the absence of the latter they carry us on to the conception of the usual effect1 and give to that conception a force and vivacity1 which make it superior to the mere fictions of the fancy4 ,we may correct this propensity by a reflection on the nature of those circumstances3 but it is still certain1 that custom takes the start1 and gives a biass to the imagination4 ,to illustrate this by a familiar instance1 let us consider the case of a man1 who1 being hung out from a high tower in a cage of iron cannot forbear trembling1 when he surveys the precipice below him1 though he knows himself to be perfectly secure from falling1 by his experience of the solidity of the iron1 which supports him2 and though the ideas of fall and descent1 and harm and death1 be derived solely from custom and experience4 ,the same custom goes beyond the instances1 from which it is derived1 and to which it perfectly corresponds2 and influences his ideas of such objects as are in some respect resembling1 but fall not precisely under the same rule4 ,the circumstances of depth and descent strike so strongly upon him1 that their influence can-not be destroyed by the contrary circumstances of support and solidity1 which ought to give him a perfect security4 ,his imagination runs away with its object1 and excites a passion proportioned to it4 ,that passion returns back upon the imagination and inlivens the idea2 which lively idea has a new influence on the passion1 and in its turn augments its force and violence2 and both his fancy and affections1 thus mutually supporting each other1 cause the whole to have a very great influence upon him4 ,but why need we seek for other instances1 while the present subject of philosophical probabilities offers us so obvious an one1 in the opposition betwixt the judgment and imagination arising from these effects of custom8 ,according to my system1 all reasonings are nothing but the effects of custom2 and custom has no influence1 but by inlivening the imagination1 and giving us a strong conception of any object4 ,it may1 therefore1 be concluded1 that our judgment and imagination can never be contrary1 and that custom cannot operate on the latter faculty after such a manner1 as to render it opposite to the former4 ,this difficulty we can remove after no other manner1 than by supposing the influence of general rules4 ,we shall afterwards take#aj notice of some general rules1 by which we ought to regulate our judgment concerning causes and effects2 and these rules are formed on the nature of our understanding1 and on our experience of its operations in the judgments we form concerning objects4 ,by them we learn to distinguish the accidental circumstances from the efficacious causes2 and when we find that an effect can be produced without the concurrence of any particular circumstance1 we conclude that that circumstance makes not a part of the efficacious cause1 however frequently conjoined with it4 ,but as this frequent conjunction necessity makes it have some effect on the imagination1 in spite of the opposite conclusion from general rules1 the opposition of these two principles produces a contrariety in our thoughts1 and causes us to ascribe the one inference to our judgment1 and the other to our imagination4 ,the general rule is attributed to our judgment2 as being more extensive and constant4 ,the exception to the imagination1 as being more capricious and uncertain4 #aj ,sect4 #ae4 ,thus our general rules are in a manner set in opposition to each other4 ,when an object appears1 that resembles any cause in very considerable circumstances1 the imagination naturally carries us to a lively conception of the usual effect1 ,though the object be different in the most material and most efficacious circumstances from that cause4 ,here is the first influence of general rules4 ,but when we take a review of this act of the mind1 and compare it with the more general and authentic operations of the understanding1 we find it to be of an irregular nature1 and destructive of all the most established principles of reasonings2 which is the cause of our rejecting it4 ,this is a second influence of general rules1 and implies the condemnation of the former4 ,sometimes the one1 sometimes the other prevails1 according to the disposition and character of the person4 ,the vulgar are commonly guided by the first1 and wise men by the second4 ,mean while the sceptics may here have the pleasure of observing a new and signal contradiction in our reason1 and of seeing all philosophy ready to be subverted by a principle of human nature1 and again saved by a new direction of the very same principle4 ,the following of general rules is a very unphilosophical species of probability2 and yet it is only by following them that we can correct this1 and all other unphilosophical probabilities4 ,since we have instances1 where general rules operate on the imagination even contrary to the judgment1 we need not be surprized to see their effects encrease1 when conjoined with that latter faculty1 and to observe that they bestow on the ideas they present to us a force superior to what attends any other4 ,every one knows1 there is an indirect manner of insinuating praise or blame1 which is much less shocking than the open flattery or censure of any person4 ,however he may communicate his sentiments by such secret insinuations1 and make them known with equal certainty as by the open discovery of them1 it is certain that their influence is not equally strong and powerful4 ,one who lashes me with concealed strokes of satire1 moves not my indignation to such a degree1 as if he flatly told me ,i was a fool and coxcomb2 though ,i equally understand his meaning1 as if he did4 ,this difference is to be attributed to the influence of general rules4 ,whether a person openly1 abuses me1 or slyly intimates his contempt1 in neither case do ,i immediately perceive his sentiment or opinion2 and it is only by signs1 that is1 by its effects1 ,i become sensible of it4 ,the only difference1 then1 betwixt these two cases consists in this1 that in the open discovery of his sentiments he makes use of signs1 which are general and universal2 and in the secret intimation employs such as are more singular and uncommon4 ,the effect of this circumstance is1 that the imagination1 in running from the present impression to the absent idea1 makes the transition with greater facility1 and consequently conceives the object with greater force1 where the connexion is common and universal1 than where it is more rare and particular4 ,accordingly we may observe1 that the open declaration of our sentiments is called the taking off the mask1 as the secret intimation of our opinions is said to be the veiling of them4 ,the difference betwixt an idea produced by a general connexion1 and that arising from a particular one is here compared to the difference betwixt an impression and an idea4 ,this difference in the imagination has a suitable effect on the passions2 and this effect is augmented by another circumstance4 ,a secret intimation of anger or contempt shews that we still have some consideration for the person1 and avoid the directly abusing him4 ,this makes a concealed satire less disagreeable2 but still this depends on the same principle4 ,for if an idea were not more feeble1 when only intimated1 it would never be esteemed a mark of greater respect to proceed in this method than in the other4 ,sometimes scurrility is less displeasing than delicate satire1 because it revenges us in a manner for the injury at the very time it is committed1 by affording us a just reason to blame and contemn the person1 who injures us4 ,but this phnomenon likewise depends upon the same principle4 ,for why do we blame all gross and injurious language1 unless it be1 because we esteem it contrary to good breeding and humanity8 ,and why is it contrary1 unless it be more shocking than any delicate satire8 ,the rules of good breeding condemn whatever is openly disobliging1 and gives a sensible pain and confusion to those1 with whom we converse4 ,after this is once established1 abusive language is universally blamed1 and gives less pain upon account of its coarseness and incivility1 which render the person despicable1 that employs it4 ,it becomes less disagreeable1 merely because originally it is more so2 and it is more disagreeable1 because it affords an inference by general and common rules1 that are palpable and undeniable4 ,to this explication of the different influence of open and concealed flattery or satire1 ,i shall add the consideration of another phenomenon1 which is analogous to it4 ,there are many particulars in the point of honour both of men and women1 whose violations1 when open and avowed1 the world never excuses1 but which it is more apt to overlook1 when the appearances are saved1 and the transgression is secret and concealed4 ,even those1 who know with equal certainty1 that the fault is committed1 pardon it more easily1 when the proofs seem in some measure oblique and equivocal1 than when they are direct and undeniable4 ,the same idea is presented in both cases1 and1 properly speaking1 is equally assented to by the judgment2 and yet its influence is different1 because of the different manner1 in which it is presented4 ,now if we compare these two cases1 of the open and concealed violations of the laws of honour1 we shall find1 that the difference betwixt them consists in this1 that in the first ease the sign1 from which we infer the blameable action1 is single1 and suffices alone to be the foundation of our reasoning and judgment2 whereas in the latter the signs are numerous1 and decide little or nothing when alone and unaccompanyed with many minute circumstances1 which are almost imperceptible4 ,but it is certainly true1 that any reasoning is always the more convincing1 the more single and united it is to the eye1 and the less exercise it gives to the imagination to collect all its parts1 and run from them to the correlative idea1 which forms the conclusion4 ,the labour of the thought disturbs the regular progress of the sentiments1 as we shall observe presently4#aa ,the idea strikes not on us with ouch vivacity2 and consequently has no such influence on the passion and imagination4 #aa ,part ,,iv4 ,sect4 #a4 ,from the same principles we may account for those observations of the ,,cardinal ,,de ,,retz1 that there are many things1 in which the world wishes to be deceived2 and that it more easily excuses a person in acting than in talking contrary to the decorum of his profession and character4 ,a fault in words is commonly more open and distinct than one in actions1 which admit of many palliating excuses1 and decide not so clearly concerning the intention and views of the actor4 ,thus it appears upon the whole1 that every kind of opinion or judgment1 which amounts not to knowledge1 is derived entirely from the force and vivacity of the perception1 and that these qualities constitute in the mind1 what we call the ,,belief ,of the existence of any object4 ,this force and this vivacity are most conspicuous in the memory2 and therefore our confidence in the veracity of that faculty is the greatest imaginable1 and equals in many respects the assurance of a demonstration4 ,the next degree of these qualities is that derived from the relation of cause and effect2 and this too is very great1 especially when the conjunction is found by experience to be perfectly constant1 and when the object1 which is present to us1 exactly resembles those1 of which we have had experience4 ,but below this degree of evidence there are many others1 which have an influence on the passions and imagination1 proportioned to that degree of force and vivacity1 which they communicate to the ideas4 ,it is by habit we make the transition from cause to effect2 and it is from some present impression we borrow that vivacity1 which we diffuse over the correlative idea4 ,but when we have not observed a sufficient number of instances1 to produce a strong habit2 or when these instances are contrary to each other2 or when the resemblance is not exact2 or the present impression is faint and obscure2 or the experience in some measure obliterated from the memory2 or the connexion dependent on a long chain of objects2 or the inference derived from general rules1 and yet not conformable to them3 ,in all these cases the evidence diminishes by the diminution of the force and intenseness of the idea4 ,this therefore is the nature of the judgment and probability4 ,what principally gives authority to this system is1 beside the undoubted arguments1 upon which each part is founded1 the agreement of these parts1 and the necessity of one to explain another4 ,the belief1 which attends our memory1 is of the same nature with that1 which is derived from our judgments3 ,nor is there any difference betwixt that judgment1 which is derived from a constant and uniform connexion of causes and effects1 and that which depends upon an interrupted and uncertain4 ,it is indeed evident1 that in all determinations1 where the mind decides from contrary experiments1 it is first divided within itself1 and has an inclination to either side in proportion to the number of experiments we have seen and remember4 ,this contest is at last determined to the advantage of that side1 where we observe a superior number of these experiments2 but still with a diminution of force in the evidence correspondent to the number of the opposite experiments4 ,each possibility1 of which the probability is composed1 operates separately upon the imagination2 and it is the larger collection of possibilities1 which at last prevails1 and that with a force proportionable to its superiority4 ,all these phenomena lead directly to the precedent system2 nor will it ever be possible upon any other principles to give a satisfactory and consistent explication of them4 ,without considering these judgments as the effects of custom on the imagination1 we shall lose ourselves in perpetual contradiction and absurdity4 ,,sect4 ,,xiv4 ,,of ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,necessary ,,connexion4 ,having thus explained the manner1 in which we reason beyond our immediate impressions1 and conclude that such particular causes must have such particular effects2 we must now return upon our footsteps to examine that question1 which#ab first occured to us1 and which we dropt in our way1 viz4 ,what is our idea of necessity1 when we say that two objects are necessarily connected together4 ,upon this head ,i repeat what ,i have often had occasion to observe1 that as we have no idea1 that is not derived from an impression1 we must find some impression1 that gives rise to this idea of necessity1 if we assert we have really such an idea4 ,in order to this ,i consider1 in what objects necessity is commonly supposed to lie2 and finding that it is always ascribed to causes and effects1 ,i turn my eye to two objects supposed to be placed in that relation2 and examine them in all the situations1 of which they are susceptible4 ,i immediately perceive1 that they are contiguous in time and place1 and that the object we call cause precedes the other we call effect4 ,in no one instance can ,i go any farther1 nor is it possible for me to discover any third relation betwixt these objects4 ,i therefore enlarge my view to comprehend several instances2 where ,i find like objects always existing in like relations of contiguity and succession4 ,at first sight this seems to serve but little to my purpose4 ,the reflection on several instances only repeats the same objects2 and therefore can never give rise to a new idea4 ,but upon farther enquiry ,i find1 that the repetition is not in every particular the same1 but produces a new impression1 and by that means the idea1 which ,i at present examine4 ,for after a frequent repetition1 ,i find1 that upon the appearance of one of the objects1 the mind is determined by custom to consider its usual attendant1 and to consider it in a stronger light upon account of its relation to the first object4 ,it is this impression1 then1 or determination1 which affords me the idea of necessity4 #ab ,sect4 #b4 ,i doubt not but these consequences will at first sight be received without difficulty1 as being evident deductions from principles1 which we have already established1 and which we have often employed in our reasonings4 ,this evidence both in the first principles1 and in the deductions1 may seduce us unwarily into the conclusion1 and make us imagine it contains nothing extraordinary1 nor worthy of our curiosity4 ,but though such an inadvertence may facilitate the reception of this reasoning1 it will make it be the more easily forgot2 for which reason ,i think it proper to give warning1 that ,i have just now examined one of the most sublime questions in philosophy1 viz4 that concerning the power and efficacy of causes2 where all the sciences seem so much interested4 ,such a warning will naturally rouze up the attention of the reader1 and make him desire a more full account of my doctrine1 as well as of the arguments1 on which it is founded4 ,this request is so reasonable1 that ,i cannot refuse complying with it2 especially as ,i am hopeful that these principles1 the more they are examined1 will acquire the more force and evidence4 ,there is no question1 which on account of its importance1 as well as difficulty1 has caused more disputes both among antient and modern philosophers1 than this concerning the efficacy of causes1 or that quality which makes them be followed by their effects4 ,but before they entered upon these disputes1 methinks it would not have been improper to have examined what idea we have of that efficacy1 which is the subject of the controversy4 ,this is what ,i find principally wanting in their reasonings1 and what ,i shall here endeavour to supply4 ,i begin with observing that the terms of ,,efficacy1 ,,agency1 ,,power1 ,,force1 ,,energy1 ,,necessity1 ,,connexion1 and ,,productive ,,quality1 are all nearly synonymous2 and therefore it is an absurdity to employ any of them in defining the rest4 ,by this observation we reject at once all the vulgar definitions1 which philosophers have given of power and efficacy2 and instead of searching for the idea in these definitions1 must look for it in the impressions1 from which it is originally derived4 ,if it be a compound idea1 it must arise from compound impressions4 ,if simple1 from simple impressions4 ,i believe the most general and most popular explication of this matter1 is to say1#ac that finding from experience1 that there are several new productions in matter1 such as the motions and variations of body1 and concluding that there must somewhere be a power capable of producing them1 we arrive at last by this reasoning at the idea of power and efficacy4 ,but to be convinced that this explication is more popular than philosophical1 we need but reflect on two very obvious principles4 ,first1 that reason alone can never give rise to any original idea1 and secondly1 that reason1 as distinguished from experience1 can never make us conclude1 that a cause or productive quality is absolutely requisite to every beginning of existence4 ,both these considerations have been sufficiently explained3 and therefore shall not at present be any farther insisted on4 #ac ,see ,mr4 ,locke1 chapter of power4 ,i shall only infer from them1 that since reason can never give rise to the idea of efficacy1 that idea must be derived from experience1 and from some particular instances of this efficacy1 which make their passage into the mind by the common channels of sensation or reflection4 ,ideas always represent their objects or impressions2 and vice versa1 there are some objects necessary to give rise to every idea4 ,if we pretend1 therefore1 to have any just idea of this efficacy1 we must produce some instance1 wherein the efficacy is plainly discoverable to the mind1 and its operations obvious to our consciousness or sensation4 ,by the refusal of this1 we acknowledge1 that the idea is impossible and imaginary1 since the principle of innate ideas1 which alone can save us from this dilemma1 has been already refuted1 and is now almost universally rejected in the learned world4 ,our present business1 then1 must be to find some natural production1 where the operation and efficacy of a cause can be clearly conceived and comprehended by the mind1 without any danger of obscurity or mistake4 ,in this research we meet with very little encouragement from that prodigious diversity1 which is found in the opinions of those philosophers1 who have pretended to explain the secret force and energy of causes4#ad ,there are some1 who maintain1 that bodies operate by their substantial form2 others1 by their accidents or qualities2 several1 by their matter and form2 some1 by their form and accidents2 others1 by certain virtues and faculties distinct from all this4 ,all these sentiments again are mixed and varyed in a thousand different ways2 and form a strong presumption1 that none of them have any solidity or evidence1 and that the supposition of an efficacy in any of the known qualities of matter is entirely without foundation4 ,this presumption must encrease upon us1 when we consider1 that these principles of substantial forms1 and accidents1 and faculties1 are not in reality any of the known properties of bodies1 but are perfectly unintelligible and inexplicable4 ,for it is evident philosophers would never have had recourse to such obscure and uncertain principles1 had they met with any satisfaction in such as are clear and intelligible2 especially in such an affair as this1 which must be an object of the simplest understanding1 if not of the senses4 ,upon the whole1 we may conclude1 that it is impossible in any one instance to shew the principle1 in which the force and agency of a cause is placed2 and that the most refined and most vulgar understandings are equally at a loss in this particular4 ,if any one think proper to refute this assertion1 he need not put himself to the trouble of inventing any long reasonings3 but may at once shew us an instance of a cause1 where we discover the power or operating principle4 ,this defiance we are obliged frequently to make use of1 as being almost the only means of proving a negative in philosophy4 #ad ,see ,father ,malbranche1 ,book vi4 ,part #b1 chap4 #c4 ,and the illustrations upon it4 ,the small success1 which has been met with in all the attempts to fix this power1 has at last obliged philosophers to conclude1 that the ultimate force and efficacy of nature is perfectly unknown to us1 and that it is in vain we search for it in all the known qualities of matter4 ,in this opinion they are almost unanimous2 and it is only in the inference they draw from it1 that they discover any difference in their sentiments4 ,for some of them1 as the ,,cartesians in particular1 having established it as a principle1 that we are perfectly acquainted with the essence of matter1 have very naturally inferred1 that it is endowed with no efficacy1 and that it is impossible for it of itself to communicate motion1 or produce any of those effects1 which we ascribe to it4 ,as the essence of matter consists in extension1 and as extension implies not actual motion1 but only mobility2 they conclude1 that the energy1 which produces the motion1 cannot lie in the extension4 ,this conclusion leads them into another1 which they regard as perfectly unavoidable4 ,matter1 say they1 is in itself entirely unactive1 and deprived of any power1 by which it may produce1 or continue1 or communicate motion3 ,but since these effects are evident to our senses1 and since the power1 that produces them1 must be placed somewhere1 it must lie in the ,,deity1 or that divine being1 who contains in his nature all excellency and perfection4 ,it is the deity1 therefore1 who is the prime mover of the universe1 and who not only first created matter1 and gave it it's original impulse1 but likewise by a continued exertion of omnipotence1 supports its existence1 and successively bestows on it all those motions1 and configurations1 and qualities1 with which it is endowed4 ,this opinion is certainly very curious1 and well worth our attention2 but it will appear superfluous to examine it in this place1 if we reflect a moment on our present purpose in taking notice of it4 ,we have established it as a principle1 that as all ideas are derived from impressions1 or some precedent perceptions1 it is impossible we can have any idea of power and efficacy1 unless some instances can be produced1 wherein this power is perceived to exert itself4 ,now1 as these instances can never be discovered in body1 the ,cartesians1 proceeding upon their principle of innate ideas1 have had recourse to a supreme spirit or deity1 whom they consider as the only active being in the universe1 and as the immediate cause of every alteration in matter4 ,but the principle of innate ideas being allowed to be false1 it follows1 that the supposition of a deity can serve us in no stead1 in accounting for that idea of agency1 which we search for in vain in all the objects1 which are presented to our senses1 or which we are internally conscious of in our own minds4 ,for if every idea be derived from an impression1 the idea of a deity proceeds from the same origin2 and if no impression1 either of sensation or reflection1 implies any force or efficacy1 it is equally impossible to discover or even imagine any such active principle in the deity4 ,since these philosophers1 therefore1 have concluded1 that matter cannot be endowed with any efficacious principle1 because it is impossible to discover in it such a principle2 the same course of reasoning should determine them to exclude it from the supreme being4 ,or if they esteem that opinion absurd and impious1 as it really is1 ,i shall tell them how they may avoid it2 and that is1 by concluding from the very first1 that they have no adequate idea of power or efficacy in any object2 since neither in body nor spirit1 neither in superior nor inferior natures1 are they able to discover one single instance of it4 ,the same conclusion is unavoidable upon the hypothesis of those1 who maintain the efficacy of second causes1 and attribute a derivative1 but a real power and energy to matter4 ,for as they confess1 that this energy lies not in any of the known qualities of matter1 the difficulty still remains concerning the origin of its idea4 ,if we have really an idea of power1 we may attribute power to an unknown quality3 ,but as it is impossible1 that that idea can be derived from such a quality1 and as there is nothing in known qualities1 which can produce it2 it follows that we deceive ourselves1 when we imagine we are possest of any idea of this kind1 after the manner we commonly understand it4 ,all ideas are derived from1 and represent impressions4 ,we never have any impression1 that contains any power or efficacy4 ,we never therefore have any idea of power4 ,some have asserted1 that we feel an energy1 or power1 in our own mind2 and that having in this manner acquired the idea of power1 we transfer that quality to matter1 where we are not able immediately to discover it4 ,the motions of our body1 and the thoughts and sentiments of our mind1 7say they7 obey the will2 nor do we seek any farther to acquire a just notion of force or power4 ,but to convince us how fallacious this reasoning is1 we need only consider1 that the will being here considered as a cause1 has no more a discoverable connexion with its effects1 than any material cause has with its proper effect4 ,so far from perceiving the connexion betwixt an act of volition1 and a motion of the body2 it is allowed that no effect is more inexplicable from the powers and essence of thought and matter4 ,nor is the empire of the will over our mind more intelligible4 ,the effect is there distinguishable and separable from the cause1 and could not be foreseen without the experience of their constant conjunction4 ,we have command over our mind to a certain degree1 but beyond that1 lose all empire over it3 ,and it is evidently impossible to fix any precise bounds to our authority1 where we consult not experience4 ,in short1 the actions of the mind are1 in this respect1 the same with those of matter4 ,we perceive only their constant conjunction2 nor can we ever reason beyond it4 ,no internal impression has an apparent energy1 more than external objects have4 ,since1 therefore1 matter is confessed by philosophers to operate by an unknown force1 we should in vain hope to attain an idea of force by consulting our own minds4#ae #ae ,the same imperfection attends our ideas of the ,deity2 but this can have no effect either on religion or morals4 ,the order of the universe proves an omnipotent mind2 that is1 a mind whose will is ,,constantly ,,attended with the obedience of every creature and being4 ,nothing more is requisite to give a foundation to all the articles of religion1 nor is ,it necessary we shoud form a distinct idea of the force and energy of the supreme ,being4 ,it has been established as a certain principle1 that general or abstract ideas are nothing but individual ones taken in a certain light1 and that1 in reflecting on any object1 it is as impossible to exclude from our thought all particular degrees of quantity and quality as from the real nature of things4 ,if we be possest1 therefore1 of any idea of power in general1 we must also be able to conceive some particular species of it2 and as power cannot subsist alone1 but is always regarded as an attribute of some being or existence1 we must be able to place this power in some particular being1 and conceive that being as endowed with a real force and energy1 by which such a particular effect necessarily results from its operation4 ,we must distinctly and particularly conceive the connexion betwixt the cause and effect1 and be able to pronounce1 from a simple view of the one1 that it must be followed or preceded by the other4 ,this is the true manner of conceiving a particular power in a particular body3 and a general idea being impossible without an individual2 where the latter is impossible1 it is certain the former can never exist4 ,now nothing is more evident1 than that the human mind cannot form such an idea of two objects1 as to conceive any connexion betwixt them1 or comprehend distinctly that power or efficacy1 by which they are united4 ,such a connexion would amount to a demonstration1 and would imply the absolute impossibility for the one object not to follow1 or to be conceived not to follow upon the other3 ,which kind of connexion has already been rejected in all cases4 ,if any one is of a contrary opinion1 and thinks he has attained a notion of power in any particular object1 ,i desire he may point out to me that object4 ,but till ,i meet with such-a-one1 which ,i despair of1 ,i cannot forbear concluding1 that since we can never distinctly conceive how any particular power can possibly reside in any particular object1 we deceive ourselves in imagining we can form any such general idea4 ,thus upon the whole we may infer1 that when we talk of any being1 whether of a superior or inferior nature1 as endowed with a power or force1 proportioned to any effect2 when we speak of a necessary connexion betwixt objects1 and suppose1 that this connexion depends upon an efficacy or energy1 with which any of these objects are endowed2 in all these expressions1 so applied1 we have really no distinct meaning1 and make use only of common words1 without any clear and determinate ideas4 ,but as it is more probable1 that these expressions do here lose their true meaning by being wrong applied1 than that they never have any meaning2 it will be proper to bestow another consideration on this subject1 to see if possibly we can discover the nature and origin of those ideas1 we annex to them4 ,suppose two objects to be presented to us1 of which the one is the cause and the other the effect2 it is plain1 that from the simple consideration of one1 or both these objects we never shall perceive the tie by which they are united1 or be able certainly to pronounce1 that there is a connexion betwixt them4 ,it is not1 therefore1 from any one instance1 that we arrive at the idea of cause and effect1 of a necessary connexion of power1 of force1 of energy1 and of efficacy4 ,did we never see any but particular conjunctions of objects1 entirely different from each other1 we should never be able to form any such ideas4 ,but again2 suppose we observe several instances1 in which the same objects are always conjoined together1 we immediately conceive a connexion betwixt them1 and begin to draw an inference from one to another4 ,this multiplicity of resembling instances1 therefore1 constitutes the very essence of power or connexion1 and is the source from which the idea of it arises4 ,in order1 then1 to understand the idea of power1 we must consider that multiplicity2 nor do ,i ask more to give a solution of that difficulty1 which has so long perplexed us4 ,for thus ,i reason4 ,the repetition of perfectly similar instances can never alone give rise to an original idea1 different from what is to be found in any particular instance1 as has been observed1 and as evidently follows from our fundamental principle1 that all ideas are copyed from impressions4 ,since therefore the idea of power is a new original idea1 not to be found in any one instance1 and which yet arises from the repetition of several instances1 it follows1 that the repetition alone has not that effect1 but must either discover or produce something new1 which is the source of that idea4 ,did the repetition neither discover nor produce anything new1 our ideas might be multiplyed by it1 but would not be enlarged above what they are upon the observation of one single instance4 ,every enlargement1 therefore1 7such as the idea of power or connexion7 which arises from the multiplicity of similar instances1 is copyed from some effects of the multiplicity1 and will be perfectly understood by understanding these effects4 ,wherever we find anything new to be discovered or produced by the repetition1 there we must place the power1 and must never look for it in any other object4 ,but it is evident1 in the first place1 that the repetition of like objects in like relations of succession and contiguity discovers nothing new in any one of them3 since we can draw no inference from it1 nor make it a subject either of our demonstrative or probable reasonings2#af as has been already proved4 ,nay suppose we could draw an inference1 it would be of no consequence in the present case2 since no kind of reasoning can give rise to a new idea1 such as this of power is2 but wherever we reason1 we must antecedently be possest of clear ideas1 which may be the objects of our reasoning4 ,the conception always precedes the understanding2 and where the one is obscure1 the other is uncertain2 where the one fails1 the other must fail also4 #af ,sect4 #f4 ,secondly1 ,it is certain that this repetition of similar objects in similar situations produces nothing new either in these objects1 or in any external body4 ,for it will readily be allowed1 that the several instances we have of the conjunction of resembling causes and effects are in themselves entirely independent1 and that the communication of motion1 which ,i see result at present from the shock of two billiard-balls1 is totally distinct from that which ,i saw result from such an impulse a twelve-month ago4 ,these impulses have no influence on each other4 ,they are entirely divided by time and place2 and the one might have existed and communicated motion1 though the other never had been in being4 ,there is1 then1 nothing new either discovered or produced in any objects by their constant conjunction1 and by the uninterrupted resemblance of their relations of succession and contiguity4 ,but it is from this resemblance1 that the ideas of necessity1 of power1 and of efficacy1 are derived4 ,these ideas1 therefore1 represent not anything1 that does or can belong to the objects1 which are constantly conjoined4 ,this is an argument1 which1 in every view we can examine it1 will be found perfectly unanswerable4 ,similar instances are still the first source of our idea of power or necessity2 at the same time that they have no influence by their similarity either on each other1 or on any external object4 ,we must1 therefore1 turn ourselves to some other quarter to seek the origin of that idea4 ,though the several resembling instances1 which give rise to the idea of power1 have no influence on each other1 and can never produce any new quality in the object1 which can be the model of that idea1 yet the observation of this resemblance produces a new impression in the mind1 which is its real model4 ,for after we have observed the resemblance in a sufficient number of instances1 we immediately feel a determination of the mind to pass from one object to its usual attendant1 and to conceive it in a stronger light upon account of that relation4 ,this determination is the only effect of the resemblance2 and therefore must be the same with power or efficacy1 whose idea is derived from the resemblance4 ,the several instances of resembling conjunctions lead us into the notion of power and necessity4 ,these instances are in themselves totally distinct from each other1 and have no union but in the mind1 which observes them1 and collects their ideas4 ,necessity1 then1 is the effect of this observation1 and is nothing but an internal impression of the mind1 or a determination to carry our thoughts from one object to another4 ,without considering it in this view1 we can never arrive at the most distant notion of it1 or be able to attribute it either to external or internal objects1 to spirit or body1 to causes or effects4 ,the necessary connexion betwixt causes and effects is the foundation of our inference from one to the other4 ,the foundation of our inference is the transition arising from the accustomed union4 ,these are1 therefore1 the same4 ,the idea of necessity arises from some impression4 ,there is no impression conveyed by our senses1 which can give rise to that idea4 ,it must1 therefore1 be derived from some internal impression1 or impression of reflection4 ,there is no internal impression1 which has any relation to the present business1 but that propensity1 which custom produces1 to pass from an object to the idea of its usual attendant4 ,this therefore is the essence of necessity4 ,upon the whole1 necessity is something1 that exists in the mind1 not in objects2 nor is it possible for us ever to form the most distant idea of it1 considered as a quality in bodies4 ,either we have no idea of necessity1 or necessity is nothing but that determination of the thought to pass from causes to effects1 and from effects to causes1 according to their experienced union4 ,thus as the necessity1 which makes two times two equal to four1 or three angles of a triangle equal to two right ones1 lies only in the act of the understanding1 by which we consider and compare these ideas2 in like manner the necessity or power1 which unites causes and effects1 lies in the determination of the mind to pass from the one to the other4 ,the efficacy or energy of causes is neither placed in the causes themselves1 nor in the deity1 nor in the concurrence of these two principles2 but belongs entirely to the soul1 which considers the union of two or more objects in all past instances4 ,it is here that the real power of causes is placed along with their connexion and necessity4 ,i am sensible1 that of all the paradoxes1 which ,i1 have had1 or shall hereafter have occasion to advance in the course of this treatise1 the present one is the most violent1 and that it is merely by dint of solid proof and reasoning ,i can ever hope it will have admission1 and overcome the inveterate prejudices of mankind4 ,before we are reconciled to this doctrine1 how often must we repeat to ourselves1 that the simple view of any two objects or actions1 however related1 can never give us any idea1 of power1 or of a connexion betwixt them3 that this idea arises from the repetition of their union3 that the repetition neither discovers nor causes any thing in the objects1 but has an influence only on the mind1 by that customary transition it produces3 that this customary transition is1 therefore1 the same with the power and necessity2 which are consequently qualities of perceptions1 not of objects1 and are internally felt by the soul1 and not perceivd externally in bodies8 ,there is commonly an astonishment attending every thing extraordinary2 and this astonishment changes immediately into the highest degree of esteem or contempt1 according as we approve or disapprove of the subject4 ,i am much afraid1 that though the foregoing reasoning appears to me the shortest and most decisive imaginable2 yet with the generality of readers the biass of the mind will prevail1 and give them a prejudice against the present doctrine4 ,this contrary biass is easily accounted for4 ,it is a common observation1 that the mind has a great propensity to spread itself on external objects1 and to conjoin with them any internal impressions1 which they occasion1 and which always make their appearance at the same time that these objects discover themselves to the senses4 ,thus as certain sounds and smells are always found to attend certain visible objects1 we naturally imagine a conjunction1 even in place1 betwixt the objects and qualities1 though the qualities be of such a nature as to admit of no such conjunction1 and really exist no where4 ,but of this more fully hereafter4#ag ,mean while it is sufficient to observe1 that the same propensity is the reason1 why we suppose necessity and power to lie in the objects we consider1 not in our mind that considers them2 notwithstanding it is not possible for us to form the most distant idea of that quality1 when it is not taken for the determination of the mind1 to pass from the idea of an object to that of its usual attendant4 #ag ,part ,,iv1 ,sect4 #e4 ,but though this be the only reasonable account we can give of necessity1 the contrary notion if2 so riveted in the mind from the principles above-mentioned1 that ,i doubt not but my sentiments will be treated by many as extravagant and ridiculous4 ,what6 the efficacy of causes lie in the determination of the mind6 ,as if causes did not operate entirely independent of the mind1 and would not continue their operation1 even though there was no mind existent to contemplate them1 or reason concerning them4 ,thought may well depend on causes for its operation1 but not causes on thought4 ,this is to reverse the order of nature1 and make that secondary1 which is really primary1 ,to every operation there is a power proportioned2 and this power must be placed on the body1 that operates4 ,if we remove the power from one cause1 we must ascribe it to another3 ,but to remove it from all causes1 and bestow it on a being1 that is no ways related to the cause or effect1 but by perceiving them1 is a gross absurdity1 and contrary to the most certain principles of human reason4 ,i can only reply to all these arguments1 that the case is here much the same1 as if a blind man should pretend to find a great many absurdities in the supposition1 that the colour of scarlet is not the same with the sound of a trumpet1 nor light the same with solidity4 ,if we have really no idea of a power or efficacy in any object1 or of any real connexion betwixt causes and effects1 it will be to little purpose to prove1 that an efficacy is necessary in all operations4 ,we do not understand our own meaning in talking so1 but ignorantly confound ideas1 which are entirely distinct from each other4 ,i am1 indeed1 ready to allow1 that there may be several qualities both in material and immaterial objects1 with which we are utterly unacquainted2 and if we please to call these ,,power or ,,efficacy1 it will be of little consequence to the world4 ,but when1 instead of meaning these unknown qualities1 we make the terms of power and efficacy signify something1 of which we have a clear idea1 and which is incompatible with those objects1 to which we apply it1 obscurity and error begin then to take place1 and we are led astray by a false philosophy4 ,this is the case1 when we transfer the determination of the thought to external objects1 and suppose any real intelligible connexion betwixt them2 that being a quality1 which can only belong to the mind that considers them4 ,as to what may be said1 that the operations of nature are independent of our thought and reasoning1 ,i allow it2 and accordingly have observed1 that objects bear to each other the relations of contiguity and succession3 that like objects may be observed in several instances to have like relations2 and that all this is independent of1 and antecedent to the operations of the understanding4 ,but if we go any farther1 and ascribe a power or necessary connexion to these objects2 this is what we can never observe in them1 but must draw the idea of it from what we feel internally in contemplating them4 ,and this ,i carry so far1 that ,i am ready to convert my present reasoning into an instance of it1 by a subtility1 which it will not be difficult to comprehend4 ,when any object is presented to us1 it immediately conveys to the mind a lively idea of that object1 which is usually found to attend it2 and this determination of the mind forms the necessary connexion of these objects4 ,but when we change the point of view1 from the objects to the perceptions2 in that case the impression is to be considered as the cause1 and the lively idea as the effect2 and their necessary connexion is that new determination1 which we feel to pass from the idea of the one to that of the other4 ,the uniting principle among our internal perceptions is as unintelligible as that among external objects1 and is not known to us any other way than by experience4 ,now the nature and effects of experience have been already sufficiently examined and explained4 ,it never gives us any insight into the internal structure or operating principle of objects1 but only accustoms the mind to pass from one to another4 ,it is now time to collect all the different parts of this reasoning1 and by joining them together form an exact definition of the relation of cause and effect1 which makes the subject of the present enquiry4 ,this order would not have been excusable1 of first examining our inference from the relation before we had explained the relation itself1 had it been possible to proceed in a different method4 ,but as the nature of the relation depends so much on that of the inference1 we have been obliged to advance in this seemingly preposterous manner1 and make use of terms before we were able exactly to define them1 or fix their meaning4 ,we shall now correct this fault by giving a precise definition of cause and effect4 ,there may two definitions be given of this relation1 which are only different1 by their presenting a different view of the same object1 and making us consider it either as a philosophical or as a natural relation2 either as a comparison of two ideas1 or as an association betwixt them4 ,we may define a ,,cause to be ,an object precedent and contiguous to another1 and where all the objects resembling the former are placed in like relations of precedency and contiguity to those objects that resemble the latter4 ,i ,if this definition be esteemed defective1 because drawn from objects foreign to the cause1 we may substitute this other definition in its place1 viz4 ,a ,,cause is an object precedent and contiguous to another1 and so united with it1 that the idea1 of the one determines the mind to form the idea of the other1 and the impression of the one to form a more lively idea of the other4 #b should this definition also be rejected for the same reason1 ,i know no other remedy1 than that the persons1 who express this delicacy1 should substitute a juster definition in its place4 ,but for my part ,i must own my incapacity for such an undertaking4 ,when ,i examine with the utmost accuracy those objects1 which are commonly denominated causes and effects1 ,i find1 in considering a single instance1 that the one object is precedent and contiguous to the other2 and in inlarging my view to consider several instances1 ,i find only1 that like objects are constantly placed in like relations of succession and contiguity4 ,again1 when ,i consider the influence of this constant conjunction1 ,i perceive1 that such a relation can never be an object of reasoning1 and can never operate upon the mind1 but by means of custom1 which determines the imagination to make a transition from the idea of one object to that of its usual attendant1 and from the impression of one to a more lively idea of the other4 ,however extraordinary these sentiments may appear1 ,i think it fruitless to trouble myself with any farther enquiry or reasoning upon the subject1 but shall repose myself on them as on established maxims4 ,it will only be proper1 before we leave this subject1 to draw some corrollaries from it1 by which we may remove several prejudices and popular errors1 that have very much prevailed in philosophy4 ,first1 ,we may learn from the foregoing1 doctrine1 that all causes are of the same kind1 and that in particular there is no foundation for that distinction1 which we sometimes make betwixt efficient causes and causes sine qua non2 or betwixt efficient causes1 and formal1 and material1 and exemplary1 and final causes4 ,for as our idea of efficiency is derived from the constant conjunction of two objects1 wherever this is observed1 the cause is efficient2 and where it is not1 there can never be a cause of any kind4 ,for the same reason we must reject the distinction betwixt cause and occasion1 when supposed to signify any thing essentially different from each other4 ,if constant conjunction be implyed in what we call occasion1 it is a real cause4 ,if not1 it is no relation at all1 and cannot give rise to any argument or reasoning4 ,secondly1 ,the same course of reasoning will make us conclude1 that there is but one kind of necessity1 as there is but one kind of cause1 and that the common distinction betwixt moral and physical necessity is without any foundation in nature4 ,this clearly appears from the precedent explication of necessity4 ,it is the constant conjunction of objects1 along with the determination of the mind1 which constitutes a physical necessity3 ,and the removal of these is the same thing with chance4 ,as objects must either be conjoined or not1 and as the mind must either be determined or not to pass from one object to another1 it is impossible to admit of any medium betwixt chance and an absolute necessity4 ,in weakening this conjunction and determination you do not change the nature of the necessity2 since even in the operation of bodies1 these have different degrees of constancy and force1 without producing a different species of that relation4 ,the distinction1 which we often make betwixt ,,power and the ,,exercise of it1 is equally without foundation4 ,thirdly1 ,we may now be able fully to overcome all that repugnance1 which it is so natural for us to entertain against the foregoing reasoning1 by which we endeavoured to prove1 that the necessity of a cause to every beginning of existence is not founded on any arguments either demonstrative or intuitive4 ,such an opinion will not appear strange after the foregoing definitions4 ,if we define a cause to be an object precedent and contiguous to another1 and where all the objects resembling the farmer are placed in a like relation of priority and contiguity to those objects1 that resemble the latter2 we may easily conceive1 that there is no absolute nor metaphysical necessity1 that every beginning of existence should be attended with such an object4 ,if we define a cause to be1 ,,an ,,object ,,precedent ,,and ,,contiguous ,,to ,,another1 ,,and ,,so ,,united ,,with ,,it ,,in ,,the ,,imagination1 ,,that ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,the ,,one ,,determines ,,the ,,mind ,,to ,,form ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,the ,,other1 ,,and ,,the ,,impression ,,of ,,the ,,one ,,to ,,form ,a ,,more ,,lively ,,idea ,,of ,,the ,,other2 we shall make still less difficulty of assenting to this opinion4 ,such an influence on the mind is in itself perfectly extraordinary and incomprehensible2 nor can we be certain of its reality1 but from experience and observation4 ,i shall add as a fourth corrollary that we can never have reason to believe that any object exists1 of which we cannot form an idea4 ,for as all our reasonings concerning existence are derived from causation1 and as all our reasonings concerning causation are derived from the experienced conjunction of objects1 not from any reasoning or reflection1 the same experience must give us a notion of these objects1 and must remove all mystery from our conclusions4 ,this is so evident1 that it would scarce have merited our attention1 were it not to obviate certain objections of this kind1 which might arise against the following reasonings concerning matter and substance4 ,i need not observe1 that a full knowledge of the object is not requisite1 but only of those qualities of it1 which we believe to exist4 ,,sect4 ,,xv4 ,,rules ,,by ,,which ,,to ,,judge ,,of ,,causes ,,and ,,effects4 ,according to the precedent doctrine1 there are no objects which by the mere survey1 without consulting experience1 we can determine to be the causes of any other2 and no objects1 which we can certainly determine in the same manner not to be the causes4 ,any thing may produce any thing4 ,creation1 annihilation1 motion1 reason1 volition2 all these may arise from one another1 or from any other object we can imagine4 ,nor will this appear strange1 if we compare two principles explained above1 ,,that ,,the ,,constant ,,conjunction ,,of ,,objects ,,determines ,,their ,,causation1 ,,and#ah ,,that1 ,,property ,,speaking1 ,,no ,,objects ,,are ,,contrary ,,to ,,each ,,other ,,but ,,existence ,,and ,,non-,,existence4 ,where objects are not contrary1 nothing hinders them from having that constant conjunction1 on which the relation of cause and effect totally depends4 #ah ,part ,i4 ,sect4 #e4 ,since therefore it is possible for all objects to become causes or effects to each other1 it may be proper to fix some general rules1 by which we may know when they really are so4 7#a7 ,the cause and effect must be contiguous in space and time4 7#b7 ,the cause must be prior to the effect4 7#c7 ,there must be a constant union betwixt the cause and effect4 ,it is chiefly this quality1 that constitutes the relation4 7#d7 ,the same cause always produces the same effect1 and the same effect never arises but from the same cause4 ,this principle we derive from experience1 and is the source of most of our philosophical reasonings4 ,for when by any clear experiment we have discovered the causes or effects of any phnomenon1 we immediately extend our observation to every phenomenon of the same kind1 without waiting for that constant repetition1 from which the first idea of this relation is derived4 7#e7 ,there is another principle1 which hangs upon this1 viz4 that where several different objects produce the same effect1 it must be by means of some quality1 which we discover to be common amongst them4 ,for as like effects imply like causes1 we must always ascribe the causation to the circumstance1 wherein we discover the resemblance4 7#f7 ,the following principle is founded on the same reason4 ,the difference in the effects of two resembling objects must proceed from that particular1 in which they differ4 ,for as like causes always produce like effects1 when in any instance we find our expectation to be disappointed1 we must conclude that this irregularity proceeds from some difference in the causes4 7#g7 ,when any object encreases or diminishes with the encrease or diminution of its cause1 it is to be regarded as a compounded effect1 derived from the union of the several different effects1 which arise from the several different parts of the cause4 ,the absence or presence of one part of the cause is here supposed to be always attended with the absence or presence of a proportionable part of the effect4 ,this constant conjunction sufficiently proves1 that the one part is the cause of the other4 ,we must1 however1 beware not to draw such a conclusion from a few experiments4 ,a certain degree of heat gives pleasure2 if you diminish that heat1 the pleasure diminishes2 but it does not follow1 that if you augment it beyond a certain degree1 the pleasure will likewise augment2 for we find that it degenerates into pain4 7#h7 ,the eighth and last rule ,i shall take notice of is1 that an object1 which exists for any time in its full perfection without any effect1 is not the sole cause of that effect1 but requires to be assisted by some other principle1 which may forward its influence and operation4 ,for as like effects necessarily follow from like causes1 and in a contiguous time and place1 their separation for a moment shews1 that these causes are not compleat ones4 ,here is all the ,,logic ,i think proper to employ in my reasoning2 and perhaps even this was not very necessary1 but might have been supplyd by the natural principles of our understanding4 ,our scholastic head-pieces and logicians shew no such superiority above the mere vulgar in their reason and ability1 as to give us any inclination to imitate them in delivering a long system of rules and precepts to direct our judgment1 in philosophy4 ,all the rules of this nature are very easy in their invention1 but extremely difficult in their application2 and even experimental philosophy1 which seems the most natural and simple of any1 requires the utmost stretch of human judgment4 ,there is no phnomenon in nature1 but what is compounded and modifyd by so many different circumstances1 that in order to arrive at the decisive point1 we must carefully separate whatever is superfluous1 and enquire by new experiments1 if every particular circumstance of the first experiment was essential to it4 ,these new experiments are liable to a discussion of the same kind2 so that the utmost constancy is requird to make us persevere in our enquiry1 and the utmost sagacity to choose the right way among so many that present themselves4 ,if this be the case even in natural philosophy1 how much more in moral1 where there is a much greater complication of circumstances1 and where those views and sentiments1 which are essential to any action of the mind1 are so implicit and obscure1 that they often escape our strictest attention1 and are not only unaccountable in their causes1 but even unknown in their existence8 ,i am much afraid lest the small success ,i meet with in my enquiries will make this observation bear the air of an apology rather than of boasting4 ,if any thing can give me security in this particular1 it will be the enlarging of the sphere of my experiments as much as possible2 for which reason it may be proper in this place to examine the reasoning faculty of brutes1 as well as that of human creatures4 ,,sect4 ,,xvi ,,of ,,the ,,reason ,,of ,,animals ,next to the ridicule of denying an evident truth1 is that of taking much pains to defend it2 and no truth appears to me more evident1 than that beasts are endowd with thought and reason as well as men4 ,the arguments are in this case so obvious1 that they never escape the most stupid and ignorant4 ,we are conscious1 that we ourselves1 in adapting means to ends1 are guided by reason and design1 and that it is not ignorantly nor casually we perform those actions1 which tend to self-preservation1 to the obtaining pleasure1 and avoiding pain4 ,when therefore we see other creatures1 in millions of instances1 perform like actions1 and direct them to the ends1 all our principles of reason and probability carry us with an invincible force to believe the existence of a like cause4 ,it is needless in my opinion to illustrate this argument by the enumeration of particulars4 ,the smallest attention will supply us with more than are requisite4 ,the resemblance betwixt the actions of animals and those of men is so entire in this respect1 that the very first action of the first animal we shall please to pitch on1 will afford us an incontestable argument for the present doctrine4 ,this doctrine is as useful as it is obvious1 and furnishes us with a kind of touchstone1 by which we may try every system in this species of philosophy4 ,it is from the resemblance of the external actions of animals to those we ourselves perform1 that we judge their internal likewise to resemble ours2 and the same principle of reasoning1 carryd one step farther1 will make us conclude that since our internal actions resemble each other1 the causes1 from which they are derivd1 must also be resembling4 ,when any hypothesis1 therefore1 is advancd to explain a mental operation1 which is common to men and beasts1 we must apply the same hypothesis to both2 and as every true hypothesis will abide this trial1 so ,i may venture to affirm1 that no false one will ever be able to endure it4 ,the common defect of those systems1 which philosophers have employd to account for the actions of the mind1 is1 that they suppose such a subtility and refinement of thought1 as not only exceeds the capacity of mere animals1 but even of children and the common people in our own species2 who are notwithstanding susceptible of the same emotions and affections as persons of the most accomplishd genius and understanding4 ,such a subtility is a dear proof of the falshood1 as the contrary simplicity of the truth1 of any system4 ,let us therefore put our present system concerning the nature of the understanding to this decisive trial1 and see whether it will equally account for the reasonings of beasts as for these of the human species4 ,here we must make a distinction betwixt those actions of animals1 which are of a vulgar nature1 and seem to be on a level with their common capacities1 and those more extraordinary instances of sagacity1 which they sometimes discover for their own preservation1 and the propagation of their species4 ,a dog1 that avoids fire and precipices1 that shuns strangers1 and caresses his master1 affords us an instance of the first kind4 ,a bird1 that chooses with such care and nicety the place and materials of her nest1 and sits upon her eggs for a due time1 and in suitable season1 with all the precaution that a chymist is capable of in the most delicate projection1 furnishes us with a lively instance of the second4 ,as to the former actions1 ,i assert they proceed from a reasoning1 that is not in itself different1 nor founded on different principles1 from that which appears in human nature4 ,it is necessary in the first place1 that there be some impression immediately present to their memory or senses1 in order to be the foundation of their judgment4 ,from the tone of voice the dog infers his masters anger1 and foresees his own punishment4 ,from a certain sensation affecting his smell1 he judges his game not to be far distant from him4 ,secondly1 ,the inference he draws from the present impression is built on experience1 and on his observation of the conjunction of objects in past instances4 ,as you vary this experience1 he varies his reasoning4 ,make a beating follow upon one sign or motion for some time1 and afterwards upon another2 and he will successively draw different conclusions1 according to his most recent experience4 ,now let any philosopher make a trial1 and endeavour to explain that act of the mind1 which we call ,,belief1 and give an account of the principles1 from which it is derivd1 independent of the influence of custom on the imagination1 and let his hypothesis be equally applicable to beasts as to the human species2 and after he has done this1 ,i promise to embrace his opinion4 ,but at the same time ,i demand as an equitable condition1 that if my system be the only one1 which can answer to all these terms1 it may be receivd as entirely satisfactory and convincing4 ,and that it is the only one1 is evident almost without any reasoning4 ,beasts certainly never perceive any real connexion among objects4 ,it is therefore by experience they infer one from another4 ,they can never by any arguments form a general conclusion1 that those objects1 of which they have had no experience1 resemble those of which they have4 ,it is therefore by means of custom alone1 that experience operates upon them4 ,all this was sufficiently evident with respect to man4 ,but with respect to beasts there cannot be the least suspicion of mistake2 which must be ownd to be a strong confirmation1 or rather an invincible proof of my system4 ,nothing shews more the force of habit in reconciling us to any phaenomenoun1 than this1 that men are not astonished at the operations of their own reason1 at the same time1 that they admire the instinct of animals1 and find a difficulty in explaining it1 merely because it cannot be reduced to the very same principles4 ,to consider the matter aright1 reason is nothing but a wonderful and unintelligible instinct in our souls1 which carries us along a certain train of ideas1 and endows them with particular qualities1 according to their particular situations and relations4 ,this instinct1 it is true1 arises from past observation and experience2 but can any one give the ultimate reason1 why past experience and observation produces such an effect1 any more than why nature alone shoud produce it8 ,nature may certainly produce whatever can arise from habit3 ,nay1 habit is nothing but one of the principles of nature1 and derives all its force from that origin4 ,,part ,,iv4 ,,of ,,the ,,sceptical ,,and ,,other ,,systems ,,of ,,philosophy4 ,,sect4 ,i4 ,,of ,,scepticism ,,with ,,regard ,,to ,,reason4 ,in all demonstrative sciences the rules are certain and infallible2 but when we apply them1 our fallible said uncertain faculties are very apt to depart from them1 and fall into error4 ,we must1 therefore1 in every reasoning form a new judgment1 as a check or controul on our first judgment or belief2 and must enlarge our view to comprehend a kind of history of all the instances1 wherein our understanding has deceived us1 compared with those1 wherein its testimony was just and true4 ,our reason must be considered as a kind of cause1 of which truth is the natural effect2 but such-a-one as by the irruption of other causes1 and by the inconstancy of our mental powers1 may frequently be prevented4 ,by this means all knowledge degenerates into probability2 and this probability is greater or less1 according to our experience of the veracity or deceitfulness of our understanding1 and according to the simplicity or intricacy of the question4 ,there is no ,algebraist nor ,mathematician so expert in his science1 as to place entire confidence in any truth immediately upon his discovery of it1 or regard it as any thing1 but a mere probability4 ,every time he runs over his proofs1 his confidence encreases2 but still more by the approbation of his friends2 and is raised to its utmost perfection by the universal assent and applauses of the learned world4 ,now it is evident1 that this gradual encrease of assurance is nothing but the addition of new probabilities1 and is derived from the constant union of causes and effects1 according to past experience and observation4 ,in accompts of any length or importance1 ,merchants seldom trust to the infallible certainty of numbers for their security2 but by the artificial structure of the accompts1 produce a probability beyond what is derived from the skill and experience of the accomptant4 ,for that is plainly of itself some degree of probability2 though uncertain and variable1 according to the degrees of his experience and length of the accompt4 ,now as none will maintain1 that our assurance in a long numeration exceeds probability1 ,i may safely affirm1 that there scarce is any proposition concerning numbers1 of which we can have a fuller security4 ,for it is easily possible1 by gradually diminishing the numbers1 to reduce the longest series of addition to the most simple question1 which can be formed1 to an addition of two single numbers2 and upon this supposition we shall find it impracticable to shew the precise limits of knowledge and of probability1 or discover that particular number1 at which the one ends and the other begins4 ,but knowledge and probability are of such contrary and disagreeing natures1 that they cannot well run insensibly into each other1 and that because they will not divide1 but must be either entirely present1 or entirely absent4 ,besides1 if any single addition were certain1 every one would be so1 and consequently the whole or total sum2 unless the whole can be different from all its parts4 ,i had almost said1 that this was certain2 but ,i reflect that it must reduce itself1 as well as every other reasoning1 and from knowledge degenerate into probability4 ,since therefore all knowledge resolves itself into probability1 and becomes at last of the same nature with that evidence1 which we employ in common life1 we must now examine this latter species of reasoning1 and see on what foundation it stands4 ,in every judgment1 which we can form concerning probability1 as well as concerning knowledge1 we ought always to correct the first judgment1 derived from the nature of the object1 by another judgment1 derived from the nature of the understanding4 ,it is certain a man of solid sense and long experience ought to have1 and usually has1 a greater assurance in his opinions1 than one that is foolish and ignorant1 and that our sentiments have different degrees of authority1 even with ourselves1 in proportion to the degrees of our reason and experience4 ,in the man of the best sense and longest experience1 this authority is never entire2 since even such-a-one must be conscious of many errors in the past1 and must still dread the like for the future4 ,here then arises a new species of probability to correct and regulate the first1 and fix its just standard and proportion4 ,as demonstration is subject to the controul of probability1 so is probability liable to a new correction by a reflex act of the mind1 wherein the nature of our understanding1 and our reasoning from the first probability become our objects4 ,having thus found in every probability1 beside the original uncertainty inherent in the subject1 a new uncertainty derived from the weakness of that faculty1 which judges1 and having adjusted these two together1 we are obliged by our reason to add a new doubt derived from the possibility of error in the estimation we make of the truth and fidelity of our faculties4 ,this is a doubt1 which immediately occurs to us1 and of which1 if we would closely pursue our reason1 we cannot avoid giving a decision4 ,but this decision1 though it should be favourable to our preceding judgment1 being founded only on probability1 must weaken still further our first evidence1 and must itself be weakened by a fourth doubt of the same kind1 and so on in infinitum3 till at last there remain nothing of the original probability1 however great we may suppose it to have been1 and however small the diminution by every new uncertainty4 ,no finite object can subsist under a decrease repeated ,,in ,,infinitum2 and even the vastest quantity1 which can enter into human imagination1 must in this manner be reduced to nothing4 ,let our first belief be never so strong1 it must infallibly perish by passing through so many new examinations1 of which each diminishes somewhat of its force and vigour4 ,when ,i reflect on the natural fallibility of my judgment1 ,i have less confidence in my opinions1 than when ,i only consider the objects concerning which ,i reason2 and when ,i proceed still farther1 to turn the scrutiny against every successive estimation ,i make of my faculties1 all the rules of logic require a continual diminution1 and at last a total extinction of belief and evidence4 ,should it here be asked me1 whether ,i sincerely assent to this argument1 which ,i seem to take such pains to inculcate1 and whether ,i be really one of those sceptics1 who hold that all is uncertain1 and that our judgment is not in any thing possest of any measures of truth and falshood2 ,i should reply1 that this question is entirely superfluous1 and that neither ,i1 nor any other person was ever sincerely and constantly of that opinion4 ,nature1 by an absolute and uncontroulable necessity has determined us to judge as well as to breathe and feel2 nor can we any more forbear viewing certain objects in a stronger and fuller light1 upon account of their customary connexion with a present impression1 than we can hinder ourselves from thinking as long1 as we are awake1 or seeing the surrounding bodies1 when we turn our eyes towards them in broad sunshine4 ,whoever has taken the pains to refute the cavils of this total scepticism1 has really disputed without an antagonist1 and endeavoured by arguments to establish a faculty1 which nature has antecedently implanted in the mind1 and rendered unavoidable4 ,my intention then in displaying so carefully the arguments of that fantastic sect1 is only to make the reader sensible of the truth of my hypothesis1 that all our reasonings concerning causes and effects are derived from nothing but custom2 and that belief is more properly an act of the sensitive1 than of the cogitative part of our natures4 ,i have here proved1 that the very same principles1 which make us form a decision upon any subject1 and correct that decision by the consideration of our genius and capacity1 and of the situation of our mind1 when we examined that subject2 ,i say1 ,i have proved1 that these same principles1 when carryed farther1 and applied to every new reflex judgment1 must1 by continually diminishing the original evidence1 at last reduce it to nothing1 and utterly subvert all belief and opinion4 ,if belief1 therefore1 were a simple act of the thought1 without any peculiar manner of conception1 or the addition of a force and vivacity1 it must infallibly destroy itself1 and in every case terminate in a total suspense of judgment4 ,but as experience will sufficiently convince any one1 who thinks it worth while to try1 that though he can find no error in the foregoing arguments1 yet he still continues to believe1 and think1 and reason as usual1 he may safely conclude1 that his reasoning and belief is some sensation or peculiar manner of conception1 which it is impossible for mere ideas and reflections to destroy4 ,but here1 perhaps1 it may be demanded1 how it happens1 even upon my hypothesis1 that these arguments above-explained produce not a total suspense of judgment1 and after what manner the mind ever retains a degree of assurance in any subject8 ,for as these new probabilities1 which by their repetition perpetually diminish the original evidence1 are founded on the very same principles1 whether of thought or sensation1 as the primary judgment1 it may seem unavoidable1 that in either case they must equally subvert it1 and by the opposition1 either of contrary thoughts or sensations1 reduce the mind to a total uncertainty4 ,i suppose1 there is some question proposed to me1 and that after revolving over the impressions of my memory and senses1 and carrying my thoughts from them to such objects1 as are commonly conjoined with them1 ,i feel a stronger and more forcible conception on the one side1 than on the other4 ,this strong conception forms my first decision4 ,i suppose1 that afterwards ,i examine my judgment itself1 and observing from experience1 that it is sometimes just and sometimes erroneous1 ,i consider it as regulated by contrary principles or causes1 of which some lead to truth1 and some to error2 and in ballancing these contrary causes1 ,i diminish by a new probability the assurance of my first decision4 ,this new probability is liable to the same diminution as the foregoing1 and so on1 ,,in ,,infinitum4 ,it is therefore demanded1 how it happens1 that even after all we retain a degree of belief1 which is sufficient for our purpose1 either in philosophy or common life4 ,i answer1 that after the first and second decision2 as the action of the mind becomes forced and unnatural1 and the ideas faint and obscure2 though the principles of judgment1 and the ballancing of opposite causes be the same as at the very beginning2 yet their influence on the imagination1 and the vigour they add to1 or diminish from the thought1 is by no means equal4 ,where the mind reaches not its objects with easiness and facility1 the same principles have not the same effect as in a more natural conception of the ideas2 nor does the imagination feel a sensation1 which holds any proportion with that which arises from its common judgments and opinions4 ,the attention is on the stretch3 ,the posture of the mind is uneasy2 and the spirits being diverted from their natural course1 are not governed in their movements by the same laws1 at least not to the same degree1 as when they flow in their usual channel4 ,if we desire similar instances1 it will not be very difficult to find them4 ,the present subject of metaphysics will supply us abundantly4 ,the same argument1 which would have been esteemed convincing in a reasoning concerning history or politics1 has little or no influence in these abstruser subjects1 even though it be perfectly comprehended2 and that because there is required a study and an effort of thought1 in order to its being comprehended3 ,and this effort of thought disturbs the operation of our sentiments1 on which the belief depends4 ,the case is the same in other subjects4 ,the straining of the imagination always hinders the regular flowing of the passions and sentiments4 ,a tragic poet1 that would represent his heroes as very ingenious and witty in their misfortunes1 would never touch the passions4 ,as the emotions of the soul prevent any subtile reasoning and reflection1 so these latter actions of the mind are equally prejudicial to the former4 ,the mind1 as well as the body1 seems to be endowed with a certain precise degree of force and activity1 which it never employs in one action1 but at the expense of all the rest4 ,this is more evidently true1 where the actions are of quite different natures2 since in that case the force of the mind is not only diverted1 but even the disposition changed1 so as to render us incapable of a sudden transition from one action to the other1 and still more of performing both at once4 ,no wonder1 then1 the conviction1 which arises from a subtile reasoning1 diminishes in proportion to the efforts1 which the imagination makes to enter into the reasoning1 and to conceive it in all its parts4 ,belief1 being a lively conception1 can never be entire1 where it is not founded on something natural and easy4 ,this ,i take to be the true state of the question1 and cannot approve of that expeditious way1 which some take with the sceptics1 to reject at once all their arguments without enquiry or examination4 ,if the sceptical reasonings be strong1 say they1 it is a proof1 that reason may have some force and authority3 if weak1 they can never be sufficient to invalidate all the conclusions of our understanding4 ,this argument is not just2 because the sceptical reasonings1 were it possible for them to exist1 and were they not destroyed by their subtility1 would be successively both strong and weak1 according to the successive dispositions of the mind4 ,reason first appears in possession of the throne1 prescribing laws1 and imposing maxims1 with an absolute sway and authority4 ,her enemy1 therefore1 is obliged to take shelter under her protection1 and by making use of rational arguments to prove the fallaciousness and imbecility of reason1 produces1 in a manner1 a patent under her hand and seal4 ,this patent has at first an authority1 proportioned to the present and immediate authority of reason1 from which it is derived4 ,but as it is supposed to be contradictory to reason1 it gradually diminishes the force of that governing power and its own at the same time2 till at last they both vanish away into nothing1 by a regulax and just diminution4 ,the sceptical and dogmatical reasons are of the same kind1 though contrary in their operation and tendency2 so that where the latter is strong1 it has an enemy of equal force in the former to encounter2 and as their forces were at first equal1 they still continue so1 as long as either of them subsists2 nor does one of them lose any force in the contest1 without taking as much from its antagonist4 ,it is happy1 therefore1 that nature breaks the force of all sceptical arguments in time1 and keeps them from having any considerable influence on the understanding4 ,were we to trust entirely to their self-destruction1 that can never take place1 until they have first subverted all conviction1 and have totally destroyed human reason4 ,,sect4 ,,ii4 ,,of ,,scepticism ,,with ,,regard ,,to ,,the ,,senses4 ,thus the sceptic still continues to reason and believe1 even though he asserts1 that he cannot defend his reason by reason2 and by the same rule he must assent to the principle concerning the existence of body1 though he cannot pretend by any arguments of philosophy to maintain its veracity4 ,nature has not left this to his choice1 and has doubtless1 esteemed it an affair of too great importance to be trusted to our uncertain reasonings and speculations4 ,we may well ask1 ,what causes induce us to believe in the existence of body8 but it is in vain to ask1 ,whether there be body or not8 ,that is a point1 which we must take for granted in all our reasonings4 ,the subject1 then1 of our present enquiry is concerning the causes which induce us to believe in the existence of body3 ,and my reasonings on this head ,i shall begin with a distinction1 which at first sight may seem superfluous1 but which will contribute very much to the perfect understanding of what follows4 ,we ought to examine apart those two questions1 which are commonly confounded together1 viz4 ,why we attribute a continued existence to objects1 even when they are not present to the senses2 and why we suppose them to have an existence ,,distinct from the mind and perception4 ,under this last head ,i comprehend their situation as well as relations1 their external position as well as the independence of their existence and operation4 ,these two questions concerning the continued and distinct existence of body are intimately connected together4 ,for if the objects of our senses continue to exist1 even when they are not perceived1 their existence is of course independent of and distinct from the perception3 and vice versa1 if their existence be independent of the perception and distinct from it1 they must continue to exist1 even though they be not perceived4 ,but though the decision of the one question decides the other2 yet that we may the more easily discover the principles of human nature1 from whence the decision arises1 we shall carry along with us this distinction1 and shall consider1 whether it be the senses1 reason1 or the imagination1 that produces the opinion of a continued or of a distinct existence4 ,these are the only questions1 that are intelligible on the present subject4 ,for as to the notion of external existence1 when taken for something specially different from our perceptions1#a we have already shewn its absurdity4 #a ,part4 ,,ii4 ,sect4 #f4 ,to begin with the ,,senses1 it is evident these faculties are incapable of giving rise to the notion of the continued existence of their objects1 after they no longer appear to the senses4 ,for that is a contradiction in terms1 and suppose that the senses continue to operate1 even after they have ceased all manner of operation4 ,these faculties1 therefore1 if they have any influence in the present case1 must produce the opinion of a distinct1 not of a continued existence2 and in order to that1 must present their impressions either as images and representations1 or as these very distinct and external existences4 ,that our senses offer not their impressions as the images of something distinct1 or independent1 and external1 is evident2 because they convey to us nothing but a single perception1 and never give us the least intimation of any thing beyond4 ,a single perception can never produce the idea of a double existence1 but by some inference either of the reason or imagination4 ,when the mind looks farther than what immediately appears to it1 its conclusions can never be put to the account of the senses2 and it certainly looks farther1 when from a single perception it infers a double existence1 and supposes the relations of resemblance and causation betwixt them4 ,if our senses1 therefore1 suggest any idea of distinct existences1 they must convey the impressions as those very existences1 by a kind of fallacy and illusion4 ,upon this bead we may observe1 that all sensations are felt by the mind1 such as they really are1 and that when we doubt1 whether they present themselves as distinct objects1 or as mere impressions1 the difficulty is not concerning their nature1 but concerning their relations and situation4 ,now if the senses presented our impressions as external to1 and independent of ourselves1 both the objects and ourselves must be obvious to our senses1 otherwise they could not be compared by these faculties4 ,the difficulty1 then1 is how fax we are ourselves the objects of our senses4 ,it is certain there is no question in philosophy more abstruse than that concerning identity1 and the nature of the uniting principle1 which constitutes a person4 ,so far from being able by our senses merely to determine this question1 we must have recourse to the most profound metaphysics to give a satisfactory answer to it2 and in common life it is evident these ideas of self and person are never very fixed nor determinate4 ,it is absurd1 therefore1 to imagine the senses can ever distinguish betwixt ourselves and external objects4 ,add to this1 that every impression1 external and internal1 passions1 affections1 sensations1 pains and pleasures1 are originally on the same footing2 and that whatever other differences we may observe among them1 they appear1 all of them1 in their true colours1 as impressions or perceptions4 ,and indeed1 if we consider the matter aright1 it is scarce possible it should be otherwise1 nor is it conceivable that our senses should be more capable of deceiving us in the situation and relations1 than in the nature of our impressions4 ,for since all actions and sensations of the mind are known to us by consciousness1 they must necessarily appear in every particular what they are1 and be what they appear4 ,every thing that enters the mind1 being in reality a perception1 it is impossible any thing should to feeling appear different4 ,this were to suppose1 that even where we are most intimately conscious1 we might be mistaken4 ,but not to lose time in examining1 whether it is possible for our senses to deceive us1 and represent our perceptions as distinct from ourselves1 that is as external to and independent of us2 let us consider whether they really do so1 and whether this error proceeds from an immediate sensation1 or from some other causes4 ,to begin with the question concerning ,,external existence1 it may perhaps be said1 that setting aside the metaphysical question of the identity of a thinking substance1 our own body evidently belongs to us2 and as several impressions appear exterior to the body1 we suppose them also exterior to ourselves4 ,the paper1 on which ,i write at present1 is beyond my hand4 ,the table is beyond the paper4 ,the walls of the chamber beyond the table4 ,and in casting my eye towards the window1 ,i perceive a great extent of fields and buildings beyond my chamber4 ,from all this it may be infered1 that no other faculty is required1 beside the senses1 to convince us of the external existence of body4 ,but to prevent this inference1 we need only weigh the three following considerations4 ,first1 ,that1 properly speaking1 it is not our body we perceive1 when we regard our limbs and members1 but certain impressions1 which enter by the senses2 so that the ascribing a real and corporeal existence to these impressions1 or to their objects1 is an act of the mind as difficult to explain1 as that which we examine at present4 ,secondly1 ,sounds1 and tastes1 and smelts1 though commonly regarded by the mind as continued independent qualities1 appear not to have any existence in extension1 and consequently cannot appear to the senses as situated externally to the body4 ,the reason1 why we ascribe a place to them1 shall be3 considered afterwards4 ,thirdly1 ,even our sight informs us not of distance or outness 7so to speak7 immediately and without a certain reasoning and experience1 as is acknowledged by the most rational philosophers4 ,as to the independency of our perceptions on ourselves1 this can never be an object of the senses2 but any opinion we form concerning it1 must be derived from experience and observation3 ,and we shall see afterwards1 that our conclusions from experience are far from being favourable to the doctrine of the independency of our perceptions4 ,mean while we may observe that when we talk of real distinct existences1 we have commonly more in our eye their independency than external situation in place1 and think an object has a sufficient reality1 when its ,being is uninterrupted1 and independent of the incessant revolutions1 which we are conscious of in ourselves4 ,thus to resume what ,i have said concerning the senses2 they give us no notion of continued existence1 because they cannot operate beyond the extent1 in which they really operate4 ,they as little produce the opinion of a distinct existence1 because they neither can offer it to the mind as represented1 nor as original4 ,to offer it as represented1 they must present both an object and an image4 ,to make it appear as original1 they must convey a falshood2 and this falshood must lie in the relations and situation3 ,in order to which they must be able to compare the object with ourselves2 and even in that case they do not1 nor is it possible they should1 deceive us4 ,we may1 therefore1 conclude with certainty1 that the opinion of a continued and of a distinct existence never arises from the senses4 ,to confirm this we may observe1 that there are three different kinds of impressions conveyed by the senses4 ,the first are those of the figure1 bulk1 motion and solidity of bodies4 ,the second those of colours1 tastes1 smells1 sounds1 heat and cold4 ,the third are the pains and pleasures1 that arise from the application of objects to our bodies1 as by the cutting of our flesh with steel1 and such like4 ,both philosophers and the vulgar suppose the first of these to have a distinct continued existence4 ,the vulgar only regard the second as on the same footing4 ,both philosophers and the vulgar1 again1 esteem the third to be merely perceptions and consequently interrupted and dependent beings4 ,now it is evident1 that1 whatever may be our philosophical opinion1 colours1 ,sounds1 heat and cold1 as far as appears to the senses1 exist after the same manner with motion and solidity1 and that the difference we make betwixt them in this respect1 arises not from the mere perception4 ,so strong the prejudice for the distinct continued existence ,of the former qualities1 that when the contrary opinion is advanced by modern philosophers1 people imagine they can almost refute it from their feeling and experience1 and that their very senses contradict this philosophy4 ,it is also evident1 that colours1 sounds1 c4 are originally on the same footing with the pain that arises from steel1 and pleasure that proceeds from a fire2 and that the difference betwixt them is founded neither on perception nor reason1 but on the imagination4 ,for as they are confest to be1 both of them1 nothing but perceptions arising from the particular configurations and motions of the parts of body1 wherein possibly can their difference consist8 ,upon the whole1 then1 we may conclude1 that as far as the senses are judges1 all perceptions are the same in the manner of their existence4 ,we may also observe in this instance of sounds and colours1 that we can attribute a distinct continued existence to objects without ever consulting ,,reason1 or weighing our opinions by any philosophical principles4 ,and indeed1 whatever convincing arguments philosophers may fancy they can produce to establish the belief of objects independent of the mind1 it is obvious these arguments are known but to very few1 and that it is not by them1 that children1 peasants1 and the greatest part of mankind are induced to attribute objects to some impressions1 and deny them to others4 ,accordingly we find1 that all the conclusions1 which the vulgar form on this head1 are directly contrary to those1 which are confirmed by philosophy4 ,for philosophy informs us1 that every thing1 which appears to the mind1 is nothing but a perception1 and is interrupted1 and dependent on the mind3 whereas the vulgar confound perceptions and objects1 and attribute a distinct continued existence to the very things they feel or see4 ,this sentiment1 then1 as it is entirely unreasonable1 must proceed from some other faculty than the understanding4 ,to which we may add1 that as long as we take our perceptions and objects to be the same1 we can never infer the existence of the one from that of the other1 nor form any argument from the relation of cause and effect2 which is the only one that earl assure us of matter of fact4 ,even after we distinguish our perceptions from our objects1 it will appear presently1 that we are still incapable of reasoning from the existence of one to that of the other3 ,so that upon the whole our reason neither does1 nor is it possible it ever should1 upon any supposition1 give us an assurance of the continued and distinct existence of body4 ,that opinion must be entirely owing to the ,,imagination3 which must now be the subject of our enquiry4 ,since all impressions are internal and perishing existences1 and appear as such1 the notion of their distinct and continued existence must arise from a concurrence of some of their qualities with the qualities of the imagination1 and since this notion does not extend to all of them1 it must arise from certain qualities peculiar to some impressions4 ,it will therefore be easy for us to discover these qualities by a comparison of the impressions1 to which we attribute a distinct and continued existence1 with those1 which we regard as internal and perishing4 ,we may observe1 then1 that it is neither upon account of the involuntariness of certain impressions1 as is commonly supposed1 nor of their superior force and violence1 that we attribute to them a reality1 and continued existence1 which we refuse to others1 that are voluntary or feeble4 ,for it is evident our pains and pleasures1 our passions and affections1 which we never suppose to have any existence beyond our perception1 operate with greater violence1 and are equally involuntary1 as the impressions of figure and extension1 colour and sound1 which we suppose to be permanent beings4 ,the heat of a fire1 when moderate1 is supposed to exist in the fire2 but the pain1 which it causes upon a near approach1 is not taken to have any being1 except in the perception4 ,these vulgar opinions1 then1 being rejected1 we must search for some other hypothesis1 by which we may discover those peculiar qualities in our impressions1 which makes us attribute to them a distinct and continued existence4 ,after a little examination1 we shall find1 that all those objects1 to which we attribute a continued existence1 have a peculiar constancy1 which distinguishes them from the impressions1 whose existence depends upon our perception4 ,those mountains1 and houses1 and trees1 which lie at present under my eye1 have always appeared to me in the same order2 and when ,i lose sight of them by shutting my eyes or turning my head1 ,i soon after find them return upon me without the least alteration4 ,my bed and table1 my books and papers1 present themselves in the same uniform manner1 and change not upon account of any interruption in my seeing or perceivilng them4 ,this is the case with all the impressions1 whose objects are supposed to have an external existence2 and is the case with no other impressions1 whether gentle or violent1 voluntary or involuntary4 ,this constancy1 however1 is not so perfect as not to admit of very considerable exceptions4 ,bodies often change their position and qualities1 and after a little absence or interruption may become hardly knowable4 ,but here it is observable1 that even in these changes they preserve a coherence1 and have a regular dependence on each other2 which is the foundation of a kind of reasoning from causation1 and produces the opinion of their continued existence4 ,when ,i return to my chamber after an hour's absence1 ,i find not my fire in the same situation1 in which ,i left it3 ,but then ,i am accustomed in other instances to see a like alteration produced in a like time1 whether ,i am present or absent1 near or remote4 ,this coherence1 therefore1 in their changes is one of the characteristics of external objects1 as well as their constancy4 ,having found that the opinion of the continued existence of body depends on the ,,coherence1 and ,,constancy of certain impressions1 ,i now proceed to examine after what manner these qualities give rise to so extraordinary an opinion4 ,to begin with the coherence2 we may observe1 that though those internal impressions1 which we regard as fleeting and perishing1 have also a certain coherence or regularity in their appearances1 yet it is of somewhat a different nature1 from that which we discover in bodies4 ,our passions are found by experience to have a mutual connexion with and dependence on each other2 but on no occasion is it necessary to suppose1 that they have existed and operated1 when they were not perceived1 in order to preserve the same dependence and connexion1 of which we have had experience4 ,the case is not the same with relation to external objects4 ,those require a continued existence1 or otherwise lose1 in a great measure1 the regularity of their operation4 ,i am here seated in my chamber with my face to the fire2 and all the objects1 that strike my senses1 are contained in a few yards around me4 ,my memory1 indeed1 informs me of the existence of many objects2 but then this information extends not beyond their past existence1 nor do either my senses or memory give any testimony to the continuance of their being4 ,when therefore ,i am thus seated1 and revolve over these thoughts1 ,i hear on a sudden a noise as of a door turning upon its hinges2 and a little after see a porter1 who advances towards me4 ,this gives occasion to many new reflections and reasonings4 ,first1 ,i never have observed1 that this noise could proceed from any thing but the motion of a door2 and therefore conclude1 that the present phnomenon is a contradiction to all past experience1 unless the door1 which ,i remember on the other side the chamber1 be still in being4 ,again1 ,i have always found1 that a human body was possest of a quality1 which ,i call gravity1 and which hinders it from mounting in the air1 as this porter must have done to arrive at my chamber1 unless the stairs ,i remember be not annihilated by my absence4 ,but this is not all4 ,i receive a letter1 which upon1 opening it ,i perceive by the hand-writing and subscription to have come from a friend1 who says he is two hundred leagues distant4 ,it is evident ,i can never account for this phenomenon1 conformable to my experience in other instances1 without spreading out in my mind the whole sea and continent between us1 and supposing the effects and continued existence of posts and ferries1 according to my ,memory and observation4 ,to consider these phaenomena of the porter and letter in a certain light1 they are contradictions to common experience1 and may be regarded as objections to those maxims1 which we form concerning the connexions of causes and effects4 ,i am accustomed to hear such a sound1 and see such an object in motion at the same time4 ,i have not received in this particular instance both these perceptions4 ,these observations are contrary1 unless ,i suppose that the door still remains1 and that it was opened without my perceiving it3 ,and this supposition1 which was at first entirely arbitrary and hypothetical1 acquires a force and evidence by its being the only one1 upon which ,i can reconcile these contradictions4 ,there is scarce a moment of my life1 wherein there is not a similar instance presented to me1 and ,i have not occasion to suppose the continued existence of objects1 in order to connect their past and present appearances1 and give them such an union with each other1 as ,i have found by experience to be suitable to their particular natures and circumstances4 ,here then ,i am naturally led to regard the world1 as something real and durable1 and as preserving its existence1 even when it is no longer present to my perception4 ,but though this conclusion from the coherence of appearances may seem to be of the same nature with our reasonings concerning causes and effects2 as being derived from custom1 and regulated by past experience2 we shall find upon examination1 that they are at the bottom considerably different from each other1 and that this inference arises from the understanding1 and from custom in an indirect and oblique manner4 ,for it will readily be allowed1 that since nothing is ever really present to the mind1 besides its own perceptions1 it is not only impossible1 that any habit should ever be acquired otherwise than by the regular succession of these perceptions1 but also that any habit should ever exceed that degree of regularity4 ,any degree1 therefore1 of regularity in our perceptions1 can never be a foundation for us to infer a greater degree of regularity in some objects1 which are not perceived2 since this supposes a contradiction1 viz4 a habit acquired by what was never present to the mind4 ,but it is evident1 that whenever we infer the continued existence of the objects of sense from their coherence1 and the frequency of their union1 it is in order to bestow on the objects a greater regularity than what is observed in our mere perceptions4 ,we remark a connexion betwixt two kinds of objects in their past appearance to the senses1 but are not able to observe this connexion to be perfectly constant1 since the turning about of our head or the shutting of our eyes is able to break it4 ,what then do we suppose in this case1 but that these objects still continue their usual connexion1 notwithstanding their apparent interruption1 and that the irregular appearances are joined by something1 of which we are insensible8 ,but as all reasoning concerning matters of fact arises only from custom1 and custom can only be the effect of repeated perceptions1 the extending of custom and reasoning beyond the perceptions can never be the direct and natural effect of the constant repetition and connexion1 but must arise from the co-operation of some other principles4 ,i have already observed1#b in examining the foundation of mathematics1 that the imagination1 when set into any train of thinking1 is apt to continue1 even when its object fails it1 and like a galley put in motion by the oars1 carries on its course without any new impulse4 ,this ,i have assigned for the reason1 why1 after considering several loose standards of equality1 and correcting them by each other1 we proceed to imagine so correct and exact a standard of that relation1 as is not liable to the least error or variation4 ,the same principle makes us easily entertain this opinion of the continued existence of body4 ,objects have a certain coherence even as they appear to our senses2 but this coherence is much greater and more uniform1 if we suppose the object4 to have a continued existence2 and as the mind is once in the train of observing an uniformity among objects1 it naturally continues1 till it renders the uniformity as compleat as possible4 ,the simple supposition of their continued existence suffices for this purpose1 and gives us a notion of a much greater regularity among objects1 than what they have when we look no farther than our senses4 #b ,part ,,ii1 ,sect4 #d4 ,but whatever force we may ascribe to this principle1 ,i am afraid it is too weak to support alone so vast an edifice1 as is that of the continued existence of all external bodies2 and that we must join the constancy of their appearance to the coherence1 in order to give a satisfactory account of that opinion4 ,as the explication of this will lead me into a considerable compass of very profound reasoning2 ,i think it proper1 in order to avoid confusion1 to give a short sketch or abridgment of my system1 and afterwards draw out all its parts in their full compass4 ,this inference from the constancy of our perceptions1 like the precedent from their coherence1 gives rise to the opinion of the continued existence of body1 which is prior to that of its distinct existence1 and produces that latter principle4 ,when we have been accustomed to observe a constancy in certain impressions1 and have found1 that the perception of the sun or ocean1 for instance1 returns upon us after an absence or annihilation with like parts and in a like order1 as at its first appearance1 we are not apt to regard these interrupted perceptions as different1 7which they really are7 but on the contrary consider them as individually the same1 upon account of their resemblance4 ,but as this interruption of their existence is contrary to their perfect identity1 and makes us regard the first impression as annihilated1 and the second as newly created1 we find ourselves somewhat at a loss1 and are involved in a kind of contradiction4 ,in order to free ourselves from this difficulty1 we disguise1 as much as possible1 the interruption1 or rather remove it entirely1 by supposing that these interrupted perceptions are connected by a real existence1 of which we are insensible4 ,this supposition1 or idea of continued existence1 acquires a force and vivacity from the memory of these broken impressions1 and from that propensity1 which they give us1 to suppose them the same2 and according to the precedent reasoning1 the very essence of belief consists in the force and vivacity of the conception4 ,in order to justify this system1 there are four things requisite4 ,first1 ,to explain the ,,principium ,,individuationis1 or principle of identity4 ,secondly1 ,give a reason1 why the resemblance of our broken and interrupted perceptions induces us to attribute an identity to them4 ,thirdly1 ,account for that propensity1 which this illusion gives1 to unite these broken appearances by a continued existence4 ,fourthly and lastly1 ,explain that force and vivacity of conception1 which arises from the propensity4 ,first1 ,as to the principle of individuation2 we may observe1 that the view of any one object is not sufficient to convey the idea of identity4 ,for in that proposition1 an object is the same with itself1 if the idea expressed by the word1 object1 were no ways distinguished from that meant by itself2 we really should mean nothing1 nor would the proposition contain a predicate and a subject1 which however are implyed in this affirmation4 ,one single object conveys the idea of unity1 not that of identity4 ,on the other hand1 a multiplicity of objects can never convey this idea1 however resembling they may be supposed4 ,the mind always pronounces the one not to be the other1 and considers them as forming two1 three1 or any determinate number of objects1 whose existences are entirely distinct and independent4 ,since then both number and unity are incompatible with the relation of identity1 it must lie in something that is neither of them4 ,but to tell the truth1 at first sight this seems utterly impossible4 ,betwixt unity and number there can be no medium2 no more than betwixt existence and nonexistence4 ,after one object is supposed to exist1 we must either suppose another also to exist2 in which case we have the idea of number3 ,or we must suppose it not to exist2 in which case the first object remains at unity4 ,to remove this difficulty1 let us have recourse to the idea of time or duration4 ,i have already observ'd1#c that time1 in a strict sense1 implies succession1 and that when we apply its idea to any unchangeable object1 it is only by a fiction of the imagination1 by which the unchangeable object is supposd to participate of the changes of the co-existent objects1 and in particular of that of our perceptions4 ,this fiction of the imagination almost universally takes place2 and it is by means of it1 that a single object1 placd before us1 and surveyd for any time without our discovering in it any interruption or variation1 is able to give us a notion of identity4 ,for when we consider any two points of this time1 we may place them in different lights3 ,we may either survey them at the very same instant2 in which case they give us the idea of number1 both by themselves and by the object2 which must be multiplyd1 in order to be conceivd at once1 as existent in these two different points of time3 ,or on the other hand1 we may trace the succession of time by a like succession of ideas1 and conceiving first one moment1 along with the object then existent1 imagine afterwards a change in the time without any ,,variation or ,,interruption in the object2 in which case it gives us the idea of unity4 ,here then is an idea1 which is a medium betwixt unity and number2 or more properly speaking1 is either of them1 according to the view1 in which we take it3 ,and this idea we call that of identity4 ,we cannot1 in any propriety of speech1 say1 that an object is the same with itself1 unless we mean1 that the object existent at one time is the same with itself existent at another4 ,by this means we make a difference1 betwixt the idea meant by the word1 ,,object1 and that meant by ,,itself1 without going the length of number1 and at the same time without restraining ourselves to a strict and absolute unity4 #c ,part ,,ii1 ,sect4 #e4 ,thus the principle of individuation is nothing but the ,,invariableness and ,,uninterruptedness of any object1 thro a supposd variation of time1 by which the mind can trace it in the different periods of its existence1 without any break of the view1 and without being obligd to form the idea of multiplicity or number4 ,i now proceed to explain the ,,second part of my system1 and shew why the constancy of our perceptions makes us ascribe to them a perfect numerical identity1 tho there be very long intervals betwixt their appearance1 and they have only one of the essential qualities of identity1 ,,viz1 ,,invariableness4 ,that ,i may avoid all ambiguity and confusion on this head1 ,i shall observe1 that ,i here account for the opinions and belief of the vulgar with regard to the existence of body2 and therefore must entirely conform myself to their manner of thinking and of expressing themselves4 ,now we have already observ'd1 that however philosophers may distinguish betwixt the objects and perceptions of the senses2 which they suppose co-existent and resembling2 yet this is a distinction1 which is not comprehended by the generality of mankind1 who as they perceive only one being1 can never assent to the opinion of a double existence and representation4 ,those very sensations1 which enter by the eye or ear1 are with them the true objects1 nor can they readily conceive that this pen or paper1 which is immediately perceivd1 represents another1 which is different from1 but resembling it4 ,in order1 therefore1 to accommodate myself to their notions1 ,i shall at first suppose2 that there is only a single existence1 which ,i shall call indifferently ,,object or ,,perception1 according as it shall seem best to suit my purpose1 understanding by both of them what any common man means by a hat1 or shoe1 or stone1 or any other impression1 conveyd to him by his senses4 ,i shall be sure to give warning1 when ,i return to a more philosophical way of speaking and thinking4 ,to enter1 therefore1 upon the question concerning the source of the error and deception with regard to identity1 when we attribute it to our resembling perceptions1 notwithstanding their interruption2 ,i must here recal an observation1 which ,i have already prov'd and explain'd4#d ,nothing is more apt to make us mistake one idea for another1 than any relation betwixt them1 which associates them together in the imagination1 and makes it pass with facility from one to the other4 ,of all relations1 that of resemblance is in this respect the most efficacious2 and that because it not only causes an association of ideas1 but also of dispositions1 and makes us conceive the one idea by an act or operation of the mind1 similar to that by which we conceive the other4 ,this circumstance ,i have observ'd to be of great moment2 and we may establish it for a general rule1 that whatever ideas place the mind in the same disposition or in similar ones1 are very apt to be confounded4 ,the mind readily passes from one to the other1 and perceives not the change without a strict attention1 of which1 generally speaking1 it is wholly incapable4 #d ,part ,,ii4 ,sect4 #e4 ,in order to apply this general maxim1 we must first examine the disposition of the mind in viewing any object which preserves a perfect identity1 and then find some other object1 that is confounded with it1 by causing a similar disposition4 ,when we fix our thought on any object1 and suppose it to continue the same for some time2 it is evident we suppose the change to lie only in the time1 and never exert ourselves to produce any new image or idea of the object4 ,the faculties of the mind repose themselves in a manner1 and take no more exercise1 than what is necessary to continue that idea1 of which we were formerly possest1 and which subsists without variation or interruption4 ,the passage from one moment to another is scarce felt1 and distinguishes not itself by a different perception or idea1 which may require a different direction of the spirits1 in order to its conception4 ,now what other objects1 beside identical ones1 are capable of placing the mind in the same disposition1 when it considers them1 and of causing the same uninterrupted passage of the imagination from one idea to another8 ,this question is of the last importance4 ,for if we can find any such objects1 we may certainly conclude1 from the foregoing principle1 that they are very naturally confounded with identical ones1 and are taken for them in most of our reasonings4 ,but though this question be very important1 it is not very difficult nor doubtful4 ,for ,i immediately reply1 that a succession of related objects places the mind in this disposition1 and is considered with the same smooth and uninterrupted progress of the imagination1 as attends the view of the same invariable object4 ,the very nature and essence of relation is to connect our ideas with each other1 and upon the appearance of one1 to facilitate the transition to its correlative4 ,the passage betwixt related ideas is1 therefore1 so smooth and easy1 that it produces little alteration on the mind1 and seems like the continuation of the same action2 and as the continuation of the same action is an effect of the continued view of the same object1 it is for this reason we attribute sameness to every succession of related objects4 ,the thought slides along the succession with equal facility1 as if it considered only one object2 and therefore confounds the succession with the identity4 ,we shall afterwards see many instances of this tendency of relation to make us ascribe an identity to different objects2 but shall here confine ourselves to the present subject4 ,we find by experience1 that there is such a constancy in almost all the impressions of the senses1 that their interruption produces no alteration on them1 and hinders them not from returning the same in appearance and in situation as at their first existence4 ,i survey the furniture of my chamber2 ,i shut my eyes1 and afterwards open them2 and find the new perceptions to resemble perfectly those1 which formerly struck my senses4 ,this resemblance is observed in a thousand instances1 and naturally connects together our ideas of these interrupted perceptions by the strongest relation1 and conveys the mind with an easy transition from one to another4 ,an easy transition or passage of the imagination1 along the ideas of these different and interrupted perceptions1 is almost the same disposition of mind with that in which we consider one constant and uninterrupted perception4 ,it is therefore very natural for us to mistake the one for the other4#e ,this reasoning1 it must be confest1 is somewhat abstruse1 and difficult to be comprehended2 but it is remarkable1 that this very difficulty may be converted into a proof of the reasoning4 ,we may observe1 that there are two relations1 and both of them resemblances1 which contribute to our mistaking the succession of our interrupted perceptions for an identical object4 ,the first is1 the resemblance of the perceptions3 ,the second is the resemblance1 which the act of the mind in surveying a succession of resembling objects bears to that in surveying an identical object4 ,now these resemblances we are apt to confound with each other2 and it is natural we shoud1 according to this very reasoning4 ,but let us keep them distinct1 and we shall find no difficulty in conceiving the precedent argument4 ,the persons1 who entertain this opinion concerning the identity of our resembling perceptions1 are in general an the unthinking and unphilosophical part of mankind1 7that is1 all of us1 at one time or other7 and consequently such as suppose their perceptions to be their only objects1 and never think of a double existence internal and external1 representing and represented4 ,the very image1 which is present to the senses1 is with us the real body2 and it is to these interrupted images we ascribe a perfect identity4 ,but as the interruption of the appearance seems contrary to the identity1 and naturally leads us to regard these resembling perceptions as different from each other1 we here find ourselves at a loss how to reconcile such opposite opinions4 ,the smooth passage of the imagination along the ideas of the resembling perceptions makes us ascribe to them a perfect identity4 ,the interrupted manner of their appearance makes us consider them as so many resembling1 but still distinct beings1 which appear after certain intervals4 ,the perplexity arising from this contradiction produces a propension to unite these broken appearances by the fiction of a continued existence1 which is the third part of that hypothesis ,i proposed to explain4 ,nothing is more certain from experience1 than that any contradiction either to the sentiments or passions gives a sensible uneasiness1 whether it proceeds from without or from within2 from the opposition of external objects1 or from the combat of internal principles4 ,on the contrary1 whatever strikes in with the natural propensities1 and either externally forwards their satisfaction1 or internally concurs with their movements1 is sure to give a sensible pleasure4 ,now there being here an opposition betwixt the notion of the identity of resembling perceptions1 and the interruption of their appearance1 the mind must be uneasy in that situation1 and will naturally seek relief from the uneasiness4 ,since the uneasiness arises from the opposition of two contrary principles1 it must look for relief by sacrificing the one to the other4 ,but as the smooth passage of our thought along our resembling perceptions makes us ascribe to them an identity1 we can never without reluctance yield up that opinion4 ,we must1 therefore1 turn to the other side1 and suppose that our perceptions are no longer interrupted1 but preserve a continued as well as an invariable existence1 and are by that means entirely the same4 ,but here the interruptions in the appearance of these perceptions are so long and frequent1 that it is impossible to overlook them2 and as the appearance of a perception in the mind and its existence seem at first sight entirely the same1 it may be doubted1 whether we can ever assent to so palpable a contradiction1 and suppose a perception to exist without being present to the mind4 ,in order to clear up this matter1 and learn how the interruption in the appearance of a perception implies not necessarily an interruption in its existence1 it will be proper to touch upon some principles1 which we shall have occasion to explain more fully afterwards4#f #f ,sect4 #f4 ,we may begin with observing1 that the difficulty in the present case is not concerning the matter of fact1 or whether the mind forms such a conclusion concerning the continued existence of its perceptions1 but only concerning the manner in which the conclusion is formed1 and principles from which it is derived4 ,it is certain1 that almost all mankind1 and even philosophers themselves1 for the greatest part of their lives1 take their perceptions to be their only objects1 and suppose1 that the very being1 which is intimately present to the mind1 is the real body or material existence4 ,it is also certain1 that this very perception or object is supposed to have a continued uninterrupted being1 and neither to be annihilated by our absence1 nor to be brought into existence by our presence4 ,when we are absent from it1 we say it still exists1 but that we do not feel1 we do not see it4 ,when we are present1 we say we feel1 or see it4 ,here then may arise two questions2 ,first1 ,how we can satisfy ourselves in supposing a perception to be absent from the mind without being annihilated4 ,secondly1 ,after what manner we conceive an object to become present to the mind1 without some new creation of a perception or image2 and what we mean by this seeing1 and feeling1 and perceiving4 ,as to the first question2 we may observe1 that what we call a mind1 is nothing but a heap or collection of different perceptions1 united together by certain relations1 and supposed1 though falsely1 to be endowed with a perfect simplicity and identity4 ,now as every perception is distinguishable from another1 and may be considered as separately existent2 it evidently follows1 that there is no absurdity in separating any particular perception from the mind2 that is1 in breaking off all its relations1 with that connected mass of perceptions1 which constitute a thinking being4 ,the same reasoning affords us an answer to the second question4 ,if the name of perception renders not this separation from a mind absurd and contradictory1 the name of object1 standing for the very same thing1 can never render their conjunction impossible4 ,external objects are seen1 and felt1 and become present to the mind2 that is1 they acquire such a relation to a connected heap of perceptions1 as to influence them very considerably in augmenting their number by present reflections and passions1 and in storing the memory with ideas4 ,the same continued and uninterrupted ,being may1 therefore1 be sometimes present to the mind1 and sometimes absent from it1 without any real or essential change in the ,being itself4 ,an interrupted appearance to the senses implies not necessarily an interruption in the existence4 ,the supposition of the continued existence of sensible objects or perceptions involves no contradiction4 ,we may easily indulge our inclination to that supposition4 ,when the exact resemblance of our perceptions makes us ascribe to them an identity1 we may remove the seeming interruption by feigning a continued being1 which may fill those intervals1 and preserve a perfect and entire identity to our perceptions4 ,but as we here not only feign but believe this continued existence1 the question is1 from whence arises such a belief2 and this question leads us to the fourth member of this system4 ,it has been proved already1 that belief in general consists in nothing1 but the vivacity of an idea2 and that an idea may acquire this vivacity by its relation to some present impression4 ,impressions are naturally the most vivid perceptions of the mind2 and this quality is in part conveyed by the relation to every connected idea4 ,the relation causes a smooth passage from the impression to the idea1 and even gives a propensity to that passage4 ,the mind falls so easily from the one perception to the other1 that it scarce perceives the change1 but retains in the second a considerable share of the vivacity of the first4 ,it is excited by the lively impression2 and this vivacity is conveyed to the related idea1 without any great diminution in the passage1 by reason of the smooth transition and the propensity of the imagination4 ,but suppose1 that this propensity arises from some other principle1 besides that of relation2 it is evident it must still have the same effect1 and convey the vivacity from the impression to the idea4 ,now this is exactly the present case4 ,our memory presents us with a vast number of instances of perceptions perfectly resembling each other1 that return at different distances of time1 and after considerable interruptions4 ,this resemblance gives us a propension to consider these interrupted perceptions as the same2 and also a propension to connect them by a continued existence1 in order to justify this identity1 and avoid the contradiction1 in which the interrupted appearance of these perceptions seems necessarily to involve us4 ,here then we have a propensity to feign the continued existence of all sensible objects2 and as this propensity arises from some lively impressions of the memory1 it bestows a vivacity on that fiction3 or in other words1 makes us believe the continued existence of body4 ,if sometimes we ascribe a continued existence to objects1 which are perfectly new to us1 and of whose constancy and coherence we have no experience1 it is because the manner1 in which they present themselves to our senses1 resembles that of constant and coherent objects2 and this resemblance is a source of reasoning and analogy1 and leads us to attribute the same qualities to similar objects4 ,i believe an intelligent reader will find less difficulty to assent to this system1 than to comprehend it fully and distinctly1 and will allow1 after a little reflection1 that every part carries its own proof along with it4 ,it is indeed evident1 that as the vulgar suppose their perceptions to be their only objects1 and at the same time believe the continued existence of matter1 we must account for the origin of the belief upon that supposition4 ,now upon that supposition1 it is a false opinion that any of our objects1 or perceptions1 are identically the same after an interruption2 and consequently the opinion of their identity can never arise from reason1 but must arise from the imagination4 ,the imagination is seduced into such an opinion only by means of the resemblance of certain perceptions2 since we find they are only our resembling perceptions1 which we have a propension to suppose the same4 ,this propension to bestow an identity on our resembling perceptions1 produces the fiction of a continued existence2 since that fiction1 as well as the identity1 is really false1 as is acknowledged by all philosophers1 and has no other effect than to remedy the interruption of our perceptions1 which is the only circumstance that is contrary to their identity4 ,in the last place this propension causes belief by means of the present impressions of the memory2 since without the remembrance of former sensations1 it is plain we never should have any belief of the continued existence of body4 ,thus in examining all these parts1 we find that each of them is supported by the strongest proofs3 and that all of them together form a consistent system1 which is perfectly convincing4 ,a strong propensity or inclination alone1 without any present impression1 will sometimes cause a belief or opinion4 ,how much more when aided by that circumstance8 ,but though we are led after this manner1 by the natural propensity of the imagination1 to ascribe a continued existence to those sensible objects or perceptions1 which we find to resemble each other in their interrupted appearance2 yet a very little reflection and philosophy is sufficient to make us perceive the fallacy of that opinion4 ,i have already observed1 that there is an intimate connexion betwixt those two principles1 of a continued and of a distinct or independent existence1 and that we no sooner establish the one than the other follows1 as a necessary consequence4 ,it is the opinion of a continued existence1 which first takes place1 and without much study or reflection draws the other along with it1 wherever the mind follows its first and most natural tendency4 ,but when we compare experiments1 and reason a little upon them1 we quickly perceive1 that the doctrine of the independent existence of our sensible perceptions is contrary to the plainest experience4 ,this leads us backward upon our footsteps to perceive our error in attributing a continued existence to our perceptions1 and is the origin of many very curious opinions1 which we shall here endeavour to account for4 ,it will first be proper to observe a few of those experiments1 which convince us1 that our perceptions are not possest of any independent existence4 ,when we press one eye with a finger1 we immediately perceive all the objects to become double1 and one half of them to be removed from their common and natural position4 ,but as we do not attribute to continued existence to both these perceptions1 and as they are both of the same nature1 we clearly perceive1 that all our perceptions are dependent on our organs1 and the disposition of our nerves and animal spirits4 ,this opinion is confirmed by the seeming encrease and diminution of objects1 according to their distance2 by the apparent alterations in their figure2 by the changes in their colour and other qualities from our sickness and distempers3 and by an infinite number of other experiments of the same kind2 from all which we learn1 that our sensible perceptions are not possest of any distinct or independent existence4 ,the natural consequence of this reasoning should be1 that our perceptions have no more a continued than an independent existence2 and indeed philosophers have so far run into this opinion1 that they change their system1 and distinguish1 7as we shall do for the future7 betwixt perceptions and objects1 of which the former are supposed to be interrupted1 and perishing1 and different at every different return2 the latter to be uninterrupted1 and to preserve a continued existence and identity4 ,but however philosophical this new system may be esteemed1 ,i assert that it is only a palliative remedy1 and that it contains all the difficulties of the vulgar system1 with some others1 that are peculiar to itself4 ,there are no principles either of the understanding or fancy1 which lead us directly to embrace this opinion of the double existence of perceptions and objects1 nor can we arrive at it but by passing through the common hypothesis of the identity and continuance of our interrupted perceptions4 ,were we not first perswaded1 that our perceptions are our only objects1 and continue to exist even when they no longer make their appearance to the senses1 we should never be led to think1 that our perceptions and objects are different1 and that our objects alone preserve a continued existence4 ,the latter hypothesis has no primary recommendation either to reason or the imagination1 but acquires all its influence on the imagination from the former4 ,this proposition contains two parts1 which we shall endeavour to prove as distinctly and clearly1 as such abstruse subjects will permit4 ,as to the first part of the proposition1 that this philosophical hypothesis has no primary recommendation1 either to reason1 or the imagination1 we may soon satisfy ourselves with regard to reason by the following reflections4 ,the only existences1 of which we are certain1 are perceptions1 which being immediately present to us by consciousness1 command our strongest assent1 and are the first foundation of all our conclusions4 ,the only conclusion we can draw from the existence of one thing to that of another1 is by means of the relation of cause and effect1 which shews1 that there is a connexion betwixt them1 and that the existence of one is dependent on that of the other4 ,the idea of this relation is derived from past experience1 by which we find1 that two beings are constantly conjoined together1 and are always present at once to the mind4 ,but as no beings are ever present to the mind but perceptions2 it follows that we may observe a conjunction or a relation of cause and effect between different perceptions1 but can never observe it between perceptions and objects4 ,it is impossible1 therefore1 that from the existence or any of the qualities of the former1 we can ever form any conclusion concerning the existence of the latter1 or ever satisfy our reason in this particular4 ,it is no less certain1 that this philosophical system has no primary recommendation to the imagination1 and that that faculty would never1 of itself1 and by its original tendency1 have fallen upon such a principle4 ,i confess it will be somewhat difficult to prove this to the fall satisfaction of the reader2 because it implies a negative1 which in many cases will not admit of any positive proof4 ,if any one would take the pains to examine this question1 and would invent a system1 to account for the direct origin of this opinion from the imagination1 we should be able1 by the examination of that system1 to pronounce a certain judgment in the present subject4 ,let it be taken for granted1 that our perceptions are broken1 and interrupted1 and however like1 are still different from each other2 and let any one upon this supposition shew why the fancy1 directly and immediately1 proceeds to the belief of another existence1 resembling these perceptions in their nature1 but yet continued1 and uninterrupted1 and identical2 and after he has done this to my satisfaction1 ,i promise to renounce my present opinion4 ,mean while ,i cannot forbear concluding1 from the very abstractedness and difficulty of the first supposition1 that it is an improper subject for the fancy to work upon4 ,whoever would explain the origin of the common opinion concerning the continued and distinct existence of body1 must take the mind in its common situation1 and must proceed upon the supposition1 that our perceptions are our only objects1 and continue to exist even when they are not perceived4 ,though this opinion be false1 it is the most natural of any1 and has alone any primary recommendation to the fancy4 ,as to the second part of the proposition1 that the philosophical system acquires all its influence on the imagination from the vulgar one2 we may observe1 that this is a natural and unavoidable consequence of the foregoing conclusion1 that it has no primary recommendation to reason or the imagination4 ,for as the philosophical system is found by experience to take hold of many minds1 and in particular of all those1 who reflect ever so little on this subject1 it must derive all its authority from the vulgar system2 since it has no original authority of its own4 ,the manner1 in which these two systems1 though directly contrary1 are connected together1 may be explains1 as follows4 ,the imagination naturally runs on in this train of thinking4 ,our perceptions are our only objects3 ,resembling perceptions are the same1 however broken or uninterrupted in their appearance3 ,this appealing interruption is contrary to the identity3 ,the interruption consequently extends not beyond the appearance1 and the perception or object really continues to exist1 even when absent from us3 ,our sensible perceptionz have1 therefore1 a continued and uninterrupted existence4 ,but as a little reflection destroys this conclusion1 that our perceptions have a continued existence1 by shewing that they have a dependent one1 it would naturally be expected1 that we must altogether reject the opinion1 that there is such a thing in nature as a continued existence1 which is preserved even when it no longer appears to the senses4 ,the case1 however1 is otherwise4 ,philosophers are so far from rejecting the opinion of a continued existence upon rejecting that of the independence and continuance of our sensible perceptions1 that though all sects agree in the latter sentiment1 the former1 which is1 in a manner1 its necessary consequence1 has been peculiar to a few extravagant sceptics2 who after all maintained that opinion in words only1 and were never able to bring themselves sincerely to believe it4 ,there is a great difference betwixt such opinions as we form after a calm and profound reflection1 and such as we embrace by a kind of instinct or natural impulse1 on account of their suitableness and conformity to the mind4 ,if these opinions become contrary1 it is not difficult to foresee which of them will have the advantage4 ,as long as our attention is bent upon the subject1 the philosophical and studyed principle may prevail2 but the moment we relax our thoughts1 nature will display herself1 and draw us back to our former opinion4 ,nay she has sometimes such an influence1 that she can stop our progress1 even in the midst of our most profound reflections1 and keep us from running on with all the consequences of any philosophical opinion4 ,thus though we clearly perceive the dependence and interruption of our perceptions1 we stop short in our career1 and never upon that account reject the notion of an independent and continued existence4 ,that opinion has taken such deep root in the imagination1 that it is impossible ever to eradicate it1 nor will any strained metaphysical conviction of the dependence of our perceptions be sufficient for that purpose4 ,but though our natural and obvious principles here prevail above our studied reflections1 it is certain there must be sonic struggle and opposition in the case3 at least so long as these rejections retain any force or vivacity4 ,in order to set ourselves at ease in this particular1 we contrive a new hypothesis1 which seems to comprehend both these principles of reason and imagination4 ,this hypothesis is the philosophical1 one of the double existence of perceptions and objects2 which pleases our reason1 in allowing1 that our dependent perceptions are interrupted and different2 and at the same time is agreeable to the imagination1 in attributing a continued existence to something else1 which we call objects4 ,this philosophical system1 therefore1 is the monstrous offspring of two principles1 which are contrary to each other1 which are both at once embraced by the mind1 and which are unable mutually to destroy each other4 ,the imagination tells us1 that our resembling perceptions have a continued and uninterrupted existence1 and are not annihilated by their absence4 ,reflection tells us1 that even our resembling perceptions are interrupted in their existence1 and different from each other4 ,the contradiction betwixt these opinions we elude by a new fiction1 which is conformable to the hypotheses both of reflection and fancy1 by ascribing these contrary qualities to different existences2 the interruption to perceptions1 and the continuance to objects4 ,nature is obstinate1 and will not quit the field1 however strongly attacked by reason2 and at the same time reason is so clear in the point1 that there is no possibility of disguising her4 ,not being able to reconcile these two enemies1 we endeavour to set ourselves at ease as much as possible1 by successively granting to each whatever it demands1 and by feigning a double existence1 where each may find something1 that has all the conditions it desires4 ,were we fully convinced1 that our resembling perceptions are continued1 and identical1 and independent1 we should never run into this opinion of a double existence1 since we should find satisfaction in our first supposition1 and would not look beyond4 ,again1 were we fully convinced1 that our perceptions are dependent1 and interrupted1 and different1 we should be as little inclined to embrace the opinion of a double existence2 since in that case we should clearly perceive the error of our first supposition of a continued existence1 and would never regard it any farther4 ,it is therefore from the intermediate situation of the mind1 that this opinion arises1 and from such an adherence to these two contrary principles1 as makes us seek some pretext to justify our receiving both2 which happily at last is found in the system of a double existence4 ,another advantage of this philosophical system is its similarity to the vulgar one2 by which means we can humour our reason for a moment1 when it becomes troublesome and sollicitous2 and yet upon its least negligence or inattention1 can easily return to our vulgar and natural notions4 ,accordingly we find1 that philosophers neglect not this advantage2 but immediately upon leaving their closets1 mingle with the rest of mankind in those exploded opinions1 that our perceptions are our only objects1 and continue identically and uninterruptedly the same in all their interrupted appearances4 ,there are other particulars of this system1 wherein we may remark its dependence on the fancy1 in a very conspicuous manner4 ,of these1 ,i shall observe the two following4 ,first1 ,we suppose external objects to resemble internal perceptions4 ,i have already shewn1 that the relation of cause and effect can never afford us any just conclusion from the existence or qualities of our perceptions to the existence of external continued objects3 ,and ,i shall farther add1 that even though they could afford such a conclusion1 we should never have any reason to infer1 that our objects resemble our perceptions4 ,that opinion1 therefore1 is derived from nothing but the quality of the fancy above-explained1 that it borrows all its ideas from some precedent perception4 ,we never can conceive any thing but perceptions1 and therefore must make every thing resemble them4 ,secondly1 ,as we suppose our objects in general to resemble our perceptions1 so we take it for granted1 that every particular object resembles that perception1 which it causes4 ,the relation of cause and effect determines us to join the other of resemblance2 and the ideas of these existences being already united together in the fancy by the former relation1 we naturally add the latter to compleat the union4 ,we have a strong propensity to compleat every union by joining new relations to those which we have before observed betwixt any ideas1 as we shall have occasion to observe presently4#g #g ,sect4 #e4 ,having thus given an account of all the systems both popular and philosophical1 with regard to external existences1 ,i cannot forbear giving vent to a certain sentiment1 which arises upon reviewing those systems4 ,i begun this subject with premising1 that we ought to have an implicit faith in our senses1 and that this would be the conclusion1 ,i should draw from the whole of my reasoning4 ,but to be ingenuous1 ,i feel myself at present of a quite contrary sentiment1 and am more inclined to repose no faith at all in my senses1 or rather imagination1 than to place in it such an implicit confidence4 ,i cannot conceive how such trivial qualities of the fancy1 conducted by such false suppositions1 can ever lead to any solid and rational system4 ,they are the coherence and constancy of our perceptions1 which produce the opinion of their continued existence2 though these qualities of perceptions have no perceivable connexion with such an existence4 ,the constancy of our perceptions has the most considerable effect1 and yet is attended with the greatest difficulties4 ,it is a gross illusion to suppose1 that our resembling perceptions are numerically the same2 and it is this illusion1 which leads us into the opinion1 that these perceptions are uninterrupted1 and are still existent1 even when they are not present to the senses4 ,this is the case with our popular system4 ,and as to our philosophical one1 it is liable to the same difficulties2 and is over-and-above loaded with this absurdity1 that it at once denies and establishes the vulgar supposition4 ,philosophers deny our resembling perceptions to be identically the same1 and uninterrupted2 and yet have so great a propensity to believe them such1 that they arbitrarily invent a new set of perceptions1 to which they attribute these qualities4 ,i say1 a new set of perceptions3 ,for we may well suppose in general1 but it is impossible for us distinctly to conceive1 objects to be in their nature any thing but exactly the same with perceptions4 ,what then can we look for from this confusion of groundless and extraordinary opinions but error and falshood8 ,and how can we justify to ourselves any belief we repose in them8 ,this sceptical doubt1 both with respect to reason and the senses1 is a malady1 which can never be radically cured1 but must return upon us every moment1 however we may chace it away1 and sometimes may seem entirely free from it4 ,it is impossible upon any system to defend either our understanding or senses2 and we but expose them farther when we endeavour to justify them in that manner4 ,as the sceptical doubt arises naturally from a profound and intense reflection on those subjects1 it always encreases1 the farther we carry our reflections1 whether in opposition or conformity to it4 ,carelessness and in-attention alone can afford us any remedy4 ,for this reason ,i rely entirely upon them2 and take it for granted1 whatever may be the reader's opinion at this present moment1 that an hour hence he will be persuaded there is both an external and internal world2 and going upon that supposition1 ,i intend to examine some general systems both ancient and modern1 which have been proposed of both1 before ,i proceed to a more particular enquiry concerning our impressions4 ,this will not1 perhaps1 in the end be found foreign to our present purpose4 ,,sect4 ,,iii4 ,,of ,,the ,,antient ,,philosophy4 ,several moralists have recommended it as an excellent method of becoming acquainted with our own hearts1 and knowing our progress in virtue1 to recollect our dreams in a morning1 and examine them with the same rigour1 that we would our most serious and most deliberate actions4 ,our character is the same throughout1 say they1 and appears best where artifice1 fear1 and policy have no place1 and men can neither be hypocrites with themselves nor others4 ,the generosity1 or baseness of our temper1 our meekness or cruelty1 our courage or pusilanimity1 influence the fictions of the imagination with the most unbounded liberty1 and discover themselves in the most glaring colours4 ,in like manner1 ,i am persuaded1 there might be several useful discoveries made from a criticism of the fictions of the antient philosophy1 concerning substances1 and substantial form1 and accidents1 and occult qualities2 which1 however unreasonable and capricious1 have a very intimate connexion with the principles of human nature4 ,it is confest by the most judicious philosophers1 that our ideas of bodies are nothing but collections formed by the mind of the ideas of the several distinct sensible qualities1 of which objects are composed1 and which we find to have a constant union with each other4 ,but however these qualities may in themselves be entirely distinct1 it is certain we commonly regard the compound1 which they form1 as ,,one thing1 and as continuing the ,,same under very considerable alterations4 ,the acknowledged composition is evidently contrary to this supposed simplicity1 and the variation to the identity4 ,it may1 therefore1 be worth while to consider the causes1 which make us almost universally fall into such evident contradictions1 as well as the means by which we endeavour to conceal them4 ,it is evident1 that as the ideas of the several distinct1 successive qualities of objects are united together by a very close relation1 the mind1 in looking along the succession1 must be carryed from one part of it to another by an easy transition1 and will no more perceive the change1 than if it contemplated the same unchangeable object4 ,this easy transition is the effect1 or rather essence of relation2 ,i and as the imagination readily takes one idea for another1 where their influence on the mind is similar2 hence it proceeds1 that any such succession of related qualities is readily considered as one continued object1 existing without any variation4 ,the smooth and uninterrupted progress of the thought1 being alike in both cases1 readily deceives the mind1 and makes us ascribe an identity to the changeable succession of connected qualities4 ,but when we alter our method of considering the succession1 and instead of traceing it gradually through the successive points of time1 survey at once ,any two distinct periods of its duration1 and compare the different conditions of the successive qualities2 in that case the variations1 which were insensible when they arose gradually1 do now appear of consequence1 and seem entirely to destroy the identity4 ,by this means there arises a kind of contrariety in our method of thinking1 from the different points of view1 in which we survey the object1 and from the nearness or remoteness of those instants of time1 which we compare together4 ,when we gradually follow an object in its successive changes1 the smooth progress of the thought makes us ascribe an identity to the succession2 because it is by a similar act of the mind we consider an unchangeable object4 ,when we compare its situation after a considerable change the progress of the thought is broke2 and consequently we are presented with the idea of diversity3 ,in order to reconcile which contradictions the imagination is apt to feign something unknown and invisible1 which it supposes to continue the same under all these variations2 and this unintelligible something it calls a substance1 or original and first matter4 ,we entertain a like notion with regard to the simplicity of substances1 and from like causes4 ,suppose an object perfectly simple and indivisible to be presented1 along with another object1 whose co-existent parts are connected together by a strong relation1 it is evident the actions of the mind1 in considering these two objects1 are not very different4 ,the imagination conceives the simple object at once1 with facility1 by a single effort of thought1 without change or variation4 ,the connexion of parts in the compound object has almost the same effect1 and so unites the object within itself1 that the fancy feels not the transition in passing from one part to another4 ,hence the colour1 taste1 figure1 solidity1 and other qualities1 combined in a peach or melon1 are conceived to form one thing2 and that on account of their close relation1 which makes them affect the thought in the same manner1 as if perfectly uncompounded4 ,but the mind rests not here4 ,whenever it views the object in another light1 it finds that all these qualities are different1 and distinguishable1 and separable from each other2 which view of things being destructive of its primary and more natural notions1 obliges the imagination to feign an unknown something1 or original substance and matter1 as a principle of union or cohesion among these qualities1 and as what may give the compound object a title to be called one thing1 notwithstanding its diversity and composition4 ,the peripatetic philosophy asserts the original matter to be perfectly homogeneous in all bodies1 and considers fire1 water1 earth1 and air1 as of the very same substance2 on account of their gradual revolutions and changes into each other4 ,at the same time it assigns to each of these species of objects a distinct substantial form1 which it supposes to be the source of all those different qualities they possess1 and to be a new foundation of simplicity and identity to each particular species4 ,all depends on our manner of viewing the objects4 ,when we look along the insensible changes of bodies1 we suppose all of them to be of the same substance or essence4 ,when we consider their sensible differences1 we attribute to each of them a substantial and essential difference4 ,and in order to indulge ourselves in both these ways of considering our objects1 we suppose all bodies to have at once a substance and a substantial form4 ,the notion of accidents is an unavoidable consequence of this method of thinking with regard to substances and substantial forms2 nor can we forbear looking upon colours1 sounds1 tastes1 figures1 and other properties of bodies1 as existences1 which cannot subsist apart1 but require a subject of inhesion to sustain and support them4 ,for having never discovered any of these sensible qualities1 where1 for the reasons above-mentioned1 we did not likewise fancy a substance to exist2 the same habit1 which makes us infer a connexion betwixt cause and effect1 makes us here infer a dependence of every quality on the unknown substance4 ,the custom of imagining a dependence has the same effect as the custom of observing it would have4 ,this conceit1 however1 is no more reasonable than any of the foregoing4 ,every quality being a distinct thing from another1 may be conceived to exist apart1 and may exist apart1 not only from every other quality1 but from that unintelligible chimera of a substance4 ,but these philosophers carry their fictions still farther in their sentiments concerning occult qualities1 and both suppose a substance supporting1 which they do not understand1 and an accident supported1 of which they have as imperfect an idea4 ,the whole system1 therefore1 is entirely incomprehensible1 and yet is derived from principles as natural as any of these above-explained4 ,in considering this subject we may observe a gradation of three opinions1 that rise above each other1 according as the persons1 who form them1 acquire new degrees of reason and knowledge4 ,these opinions are that of the vulgar1 that of a false philosophy1 and that of the true2 where we shall find upon enquiry1 that the true philosophy approaches nearer to the sentiments of the vulgar1 than to those of a mistaken knowledge4 ,it is natural for men1 in their common and care1 less way of thinking1 to imagine they perceive a connexion betwixt such objects as they have constantly found united together2 and because custom has rendered it difficult to separate the ideas1 they are apt to fancy such a separation to be in itself impossible and absurd4 ,but philosophers1 who abstract from the effects of custom1 and compare the ideas of objects1 immediately perceive the falshood of these vulgar sentiments1 and discover that there is no known connexion among objects4 ,every different object appears to them entirely distinct and separate2 and they perceive1 that it is not from a view of the nature and qualities of objects we infer one from another1 but only when in several instances we observe them to have been constantly conjoined4 ,but these philosophers1 instead of drawing a just inference from this observation1 and concluding1 that we have no idea of power or agency1 separate from the mind1 and belonging to causes2 ,i say1 instead of drawing this conclusion1 they frequently search for the qualities1 in which this agency consists1 and are displeased with every system1 which their reason suggests to them1 in order to explain it4 ,they have sufficient force of genius to free them from the vulgar error1 that there is a natural and perceivable connexion betwixt the several sensible qualities and actions of matter2 but not sufficient to keep them from ever seeking for this connexion in matter1 or causes4 ,had they fallen upon the just conclusion1 they would have returned back to the situation of the vulgar1 and would have regarded all these disquisitions with indolence and indifference4 ,at present they seem to be in a very lamentable condition1 and such as the poets have given us but a faint notion of in their descriptions of the punishment of ,sisyphus and ,tantalus4 ,for what can be imagined more tormenting1 than to seek with eagerness1 what for ever flies us2 and seek for it in a place1 where it is impossible it can ever exist8 ,but as nature seems to have observed a kind of justice and compensation in every thing1 she has not neglected philosophers more than the rest of the creation2 but has reserved them a consolation amid all their disappointments and afflictions4 ,this consolation principally consists in their invention of the words3 faculty and occult quality4 ,for it being usual1 after the frequent use of terms1 which are really significant and intelligible1 to omit the idea1 which we would express by them1 and to preserve only the custom1 by which we recal the idea at pleasure2 so it naturally happens1 that after the frequent use of terms1 which are wholly insignificant and unintelligible1 we fancy them to be on the same footing with the precedent1 and to have a secret meaning1 which we might discover by reflection4 ,the resemblance of their appearance deceives the mind1 as is usual1 and makes us imagine a thorough resemblance and conformity4 ,by this means these philosophers set themselves at ease1 and arrive at last1 by an illusion1 at the same indifference1 which the people attain by their stupidity1 and true philosophers by their moderate scepticism4 ,they need only say1 that any phenomenon1 which puzzles them1 arises from a faculty or an occult quality1 and there is an end of all dispute and enquiry upon the matter4 ,but among all the instances1 wherein the ,peripatetics have shewn they were guided by every trivial propensity of the imagination1 no one is more-remarkable than their sympathies1 antipathies1 and horrors of a vacuum4 ,there is a very remarkable inclination in human nature1 to bestow on external objects the same emotions1 which it observes in itself2 and to find every where those ideas1 which are most present to it4 ,this inclination1 it is true1 is suppressed by a little reflection1 and only takes place in children1 poets1 and the antient philosophers4 ,it appears in children1 by their desire of beating the stones1 which hurt them3 ,in poets1 by their readiness to personify every thing3 ,and in the antient philosophers1 by these fictions of sympathy and antipathy4 ,we must pardon children1 because of their age2 poets1 because they profess to follow implicitly the suggestions of their fancy3 ,but what excuse shall we find to justify our philosophers in so signal a weakness8 ,,sect4 ,,iv4 ,,of ,,the ,,modern ,,philosophy4 ,but here it may be objected1 that the imagination1 according to my own confession1 being the ultimate judge of all systems of philosophy1 ,i am unjust in blaming the antient philosophers for making use of that faculty1 and allowing themselves to be entirely guided by it in their reasonings4 ,in order to justify myself1 ,i must distinguish in the imagination betwixt the principles which are permanent1 irresistible1 and universal2 such as the customary transition from causes to effects1 and from effects to causes3 ,and the principles1 which are changeable1 weak1 and irregular2 such as those ,i have just now taken notice of4 ,the former are the foundation of all our thoughts and actions1 so that upon their removal human nature must immediately perish and go to ruin4 ,the latter are neither unavoidable to mankind1 nor necessary1 or so much as useful in the conduct of life2 but on the contrary are observed only to take place in weak minds1 and being opposite to the other principles of custom and reasoning1 may easily be subverted by a due contrast and opposition4 ,for this reason the former are received by philosophy1 and the latter rejected4 ,one who concludes somebody to be near him1 when he hears an articulate voice in the dark1 reasons justly and naturally2 though that conclusion be derived from nothing but custom1 which infixes and inlivens the idea of a human creature1 on account of his usual conjunction with the present impression4 ,but one1 who is tormented he knows not why1 with the apprehension of spectres in the dark1 may1 perhaps1 be said to reason1 and to reason naturally too3 ,but then it must be in the same sense1 that a malady is said to be natural2 as arising from natural causes1 though it be contrary to health1 the most agreeable and most natural situation of man4 ,the opinions of the antient philosophers1 their fictions of substance and accident1 and their reasonings concerning substantial forms and occult qualities1 are like the spectres in the dark1 and are derived from principles1 which1 however common1 are neither universal nor unavoidable in human nature4 ,the modern philosophy pretends to be entirely free from this defect1 and to arise only from the solid1 permanent1 and consistent principles of the imagination4 ,upon what grounds this pretension is founded must now be the subject of our enquiry4 ,the fundamental principle of that philosophy is the opinion concerning colours1 sounds1 tastes1 smells1 heat and cold2 which it asserts to be nothing but impressions in the mind1 derived from the operation of external objects1 and without any resemblance to the qualities of the objects4 ,upon examination1 ,i find only one of the reasons commonly produced for this opinion to be satisfactory1 viz4 that derived from the variations of those impressions1 even while the external object1 to all appearance1 continues the same4 ,these variations depend upon several circumstances4 ,upon the different situations of our health3 ,a man in a malady feels a disagreeable taste in meats1 which before pleased him the most4 ,upon the different complexions and constitutions of men ,that seems bitter to one1 which is sweet to another4 ,upon the difference of their external situation and position3 ,colours reflected from the clouds change according to the distance of the clouds1 and according to the angle they make with the eye and luminous body4 ,fire also communicates the sensation of pleasure at one distance1 and that of pain at another4 ,instances of this kind are very numerous and frequent4 ,the conclusion drawn from them1 is likewise as satisfactory as can possibly be imagined4 ,it is certain1 that when different impressions of the same sense arise from any object1 every one of these impressions has not a resembling quality existent in the object4 ,for as the same object cannot1 at the same time1 be endowed with different qualities of the same sense1 and as the same quality cannot resemble impressions entirely different2 it evidently follows1 that many of our impressions have no external model or archetype4 ,now from like effects we presume like causes4 ,many of the impressions of colour1 sound1 c4 are confest to be nothing but internal existences1 and to arise from causes1 which no ways resemble them4 ,these impressions are in appearance nothing different from the other impressions of colour1 sound1 c4 ,we conclude1 therefore1 that they are1 all of them1 derived from a like origin4 ,this principle being once admitted1 all the other doctrines of that philosophy seem to follow by an easy consequence4 ,for upon the removal of sounds1 colours1 beat1 cold1 and other sensible qualities1 from the rank of continued independent existences1 we are reduced merely to what are called primary qualities1 as the only real ones1 of which we have any adequate notion4 ,these primary qualities are extension and solidity1 with their different mixtures and modifications2 figure1 motion1 gravity1 and cohesion4 ,the generation1 encrease1 decay1 and corruption of animals and vegetables1 are nothing but changes of figure and motion2 as also the operations of all bodies on each other2 of fire1 of light1 water1 air1 earth1 and of all the elements and powers of nature4 ,one figure and motion produces another figure and motion2 nor does there remain in the material universe any other principle1 either active or passive1 of which we can form the most distant idea4 ,i believe many objections might be made to this system ,but at present ,i shall confine myself to one1 which is in my opinion very decisive4 ,i assert1 that instead of explaining the operations of external objects by its means1 we utterly annihilate all these objects1 and reduce ourselves to the opinions of the most extravagant scepticism concerning them4 ,if colours1 sounds1 tastes1 and smells be merely perceptions1 nothing we can conceive is possest of a real1 continued1 and independent existence2 not even motion1 extension and solidity1 which are the primary qualities chiefly insisted on4 ,to begin with the examination of motion2 it is evident this is a quality altogether inconceivable alone1 and without a reference to some other object4 ,the idea of motion necessarily supposes that of a body moving4 ,now what is our idea of the moving body1 without which motion is incomprehensible8 ,it must resolve itself into the idea of extension or of solidity2 and consequently the reality of motion depends upon that of these other qualities4 ,this opinion1 which is universally acknowledged concerning motion1 ,i have proved to be true with regard to extension2 and have shewn that it is impossible to conceive extension1 but as composed of parts1 endowed with colour or solidity4 ,the idea of extension is a compound idea2 but as it is not compounded of an infinite number of parts or inferior ideas1 it must at last resolve itself into such as are perfectly simple and indivisible4 ,these simple and indivisible parts1 not being ideas of extension1 must be non entities1 unless conceived as coloured or solid4 ,colour is excluded from any real existence4 ,the reality1 therefore1 of our idea of extension depends upon the reality of that of solidity1 nor can the former be just while the latter is chimerical4 ,let us1 then1 lend our attention to the examination of the idea of solidity4 ,the idea of solidity is that of two objects1 which being impelled by the utmost force1 cannot penetrate each other2 but still maintain a separate and distinct existence4 ,solidity1 therefore1 is perfectly incomprehensible alone1 and without the conception of some bodies1 which are solid1 and maintain this separate and distinct existence4 ,now what idea have we of these bodies8 ,the ideas of colours1 sounds1 and other secondary qualities are excluded4 ,the idea of motion depends on that of extension1 and the idea of extension on that of solidity4 ,it is impossible1 therefore1 that the idea of solidity can depend on either of them4 ,for that would be to run in a circle1 and make one idea depend on another1 while at the same time the latter depends on the former4 ,our modern philosophy1 therefore1 leaves us no just nor satisfactory idea of solidity2 nor consequently of matter4 ,this argument will appear entirely conclusive to every one that comprehends it2 but because it may seem abstruse and intricate to the generality of readers1 ,i hope to be excused1 if ,i endeavour to render it more obvious by some variation of the expression4 ,in order to form an idea of solidity1 we must conceive two bodies pressing on each other without any penetration2 and it is impossible to arrive at this idea1 when we confine ourselves to one object1 much more without conceiving any4 ,two non-entities cannot exclude each other from their places2 because they never possess any place1 nor can be endowed with any quality4 ,now ,i ask1 what idea do we form of these bodies or objects1 to which we suppose solidity to belong8 ,to say1 that we conceive them merely as solid1 is to run on in infinitum4 ,to affirm1 that we paint them out to ourselves as extended1 either resolves all into a false idea1 or returns in a circle4 ,extension must necessarily be considered either as coloured1 which is a false idea2 ,i or as solid1 which brings us back to the first question4 ,we may make the same observation concerning mobility and figure2 and upon the whole must conclude1 that after the exclusion of colours1 sounds1 heat and cold from the rank of external existences1 there remains nothing1 which can afford us a just and constituent idea of body4 ,add to this1 that1 properly speaking1 solidity or impenetrability is nothing1 but an impossibility of annihilation1 as#h has been already observed3 ,for which reason it is the more necessary for us to form some distinct idea of that object1 whose annihilation we suppose impossible4 ,an impossibility of being annihilated cannot exist1 and can never be conceived to exist1 by itself3 but necessarily requires some object or real existence1 to which it may belong4 ,now the difficulty still remains1 how to form an idea of this object or existence1 without having recourse to the secondary and sensible qualities4 #h ,part ,,ii4 ,sect4 #d4 ,nor must we omit on this occasion our accustomed method of examining ideas by considering those impressions1 from which they are derived4 ,the impressions1 which enter by the sight and hearing1 the smell and taste1 are affirmed by modern philosophy to be without any resembling objects2 and consequently the idea of solidity1 which is supposed to be real1 can never be derived from any of these senses4 ,there remains1 therefore1 the feeling as the only sense1 that can convey the impression1 which is original to the idea of solidity2 and indeed we naturally imagine1 that we feel the solidity of bodies1 and need but touch any object in order to perceive this quality4 ,but this method of thinking is more popular than philosophical2 as will appear from the following reflections4 ,first1 ,it is easy to observe1 that though bodies are felt by means of their solidity1 yet the feeling is a quite different thing from the solidity2 and that they have not the least resemblance to each other4 ,a man1 who has the palsey in one hand1 has as perfect an idea of impenetrability1 when he observes that hand to be supported by the table1 as when he feels the same table with the other hand4 ,an object1 that presses upon any of our members1 meets with resistance2 and that resistance1 by the motion it gives to the nerves and animal spirits1 conveys a certain sensation to the mind2 but it does not follow1 that the sensation1 motion1 and resistance are any ways resembling4 ,secondly1 ,the impressions of touch are simple impressions1 except when considered with regard to their extension2 which makes nothing to the present purpose3 ,and from this simplicity ,i infer1 that they neither represent solidity1 nor any real object4 ,for let us put two cases1 viz4 that of a man1 who presses a stone1 or any solid body1 with his hand1 and that of two stones1 which press each other2 it will readily be allowed1 that these two cases are not in every respect alike1 but that in the former there is conjoined with the solidity1 a feeling or sensation1 of which there is no appearance in the latter4 ,in order1 therefore1 to make these two cases alike1 it is necessary to remove some part of the impression1 which the man feels by his hand1 or organ of sensation2 and that being impossible in a simple impression1 obliges us to remove the whole1 and proves that this whole impression has no archetype or model in external objects4 ,to which we may add1 that solidity necessarily supposes two bodies1 along with contiguity and impulse2 which being a compound object1 can never be represented by a simple impression4 ,not to mention1 that though solidity continues always invariably the same1 the impressions of touch change every moment upon us2 which is a clear proof that the latter are not representations of the former4 ,thus there is a direct and total opposition betwixt our reason and our senses2 or more properly speaking1 betwixt those conclusions we form from cause and effect1 and those that persuade us of the continued and independent existence of body4 ,when we reason from cause and effect1 we conclude1 that neither colour1 sound1 taste1 nor smell have a continued and independent existence4 ,when we exclude these sensible qualities there remains nothing in the universe1 which has such an existence4 ,,sect4 ,v4 ,,of ,,the ,,immateriality ,,of ,,the ,,soul4 ,having found such contradictions and difficulties in every system concerning external objects1 and in the idea of matter1 which we fancy so clear and determinate1 ,we shall naturally expect still greater difficulties and contradictions in every hypothesis concerning our internal perceptions1 and the nature of the mind1 which we are apt to imagine so much more obscure1 and uncertain4 ,but in this we should deceive ourselves4 ,the intellectual world1 though involved in infinite obscurities1 is not perplexed with any such contradictions1 as those we have discovered in the natural4 ,what is known concerning it1 agrees with itself2 and what is unknown1 we must be contented to leave so4 ,it is true1 would we hearken to certain philosophers1 they promise to diminish our ignorance2 but ,i am afraid it is at the hazard of running us into contradictions1 from which the subject is of itself exempted4 ,these philosophers are the curious reasoners concerning the material or immaterial substances1 in which they suppose our perceptions to inhere4 ,in order to put a stop to these endless cavils on both sides1 ,i know no better method1 than to ask these philosophers in a few words1 ,what they mean by substance and inhesion8 ,and after they have answered this question1 it will then be reasonable1 and not till then1 to enter seriously into the dispute4 ,this question we have found impossible to be answered with regard to matter and body3 ,but besides that in the case of the mind1 it labours under all the same difficulties1 it is burthened with some additional ones1 which are peculiar to that subject4 ,as every idea is derived from a precedent impression1 had we any idea of the substance of our minds1 we must also have an impression of it2 which is very difficult1 if not impossible1 to be conceived4 ,for how can an impression represent a substance1 otherwise than by resembling it8 ,and how can an impression resemble a substance1 since1 according to this philosophy1 it is not a substance1 and has none of the peculiar qualities or characteristics of a substance8 ,but leaving the question of what may or may not be1 for that other what actually is1 ,i desire those philosophers1 who pretend that we have an idea of the substance of our minds1 to point out the impression that produces it1 and tell distinctly after what manner that impression operates1 and from what object it is derived4 ,is it an impression of sensation or of reflection8 ,is it pleasant1 or painful1 or indifferent8 ,i ,does it attend us at all times1 or does it only return at intervals8 ,if at intervals1 at what times principally does it return1 and by what causes is it produced8 ,if instead of answering these questions1 any one should evade the difficulty1 by saying1 that the definition of a substance is something which may exist by itself2 and that this definition ought to satisfy us3 should this be said1 ,i should observe1 that this definition agrees to every thing1 that can possibly be conceived2 and never will serve to distinguish substance from accident1 or the soul from its perceptions4 ,for thus ,i reason4 ,whatever is clearly conceived may exist2 and whatever is clearly conceived1 after any manner1 may exist after the same manner4 ,this is one principle1 which has been already acknowledged4 ,again1 every thing1 which is different1 is distinguishable1 and every thing which is distinguishable1 is separable by the imagination4 ,this is another principle4 ,my conclusion from both is1 that since all our perceptions are different from each other1 and from every thing else in the universe1 they are also distinct and separable1 and may be considered as separately existent1 and may exist separately1 and have no need of any thing else to support their existence4 ,they are1 therefore1 substances1 as far as this definition explains a substance4 ,thus neither by considering the first origin of ideas1 nor by means of a definition are we able to arrive at any satisfactory notion of substance2 which seems to me a sufficient reason for abandoning utterly that dispute concerning the materiality and immateriality of the soul1 and makes me absolutely condemn even the question itself4 ,we have no perfect idea of any thing but of a perception4 ,a substance is entirely different from a perception4 ,we have1 therefore1 no idea of a substance4 ,inhesion in something is supposed to be requisite to support the existence of our perceptions4 ,nothing appears requisite to support the existence of a perception4 ,we have1 therefore1 no idea of inhesion4 ,what possibility then of answering that question1 ,whether perceptions inhere in a material or immaterial substance1 when we do not so much as understand the meaning of the question8 ,there is one argument commonly employed for the immateriality of the soul1 which seems to me remarkable4 ,whatever is extended consists of parts2 and whatever consists of parts is divisible1 if not in reality1 at least in the imagination4 ,but it is impossible anything divisible can be conjoined to a thought or perception1 which is a being altogether inseparable and indivisible4 ,for supposing such a conjunction1 would the indivisible thought exist on the left or on the right hand of this extended divisible body8 ,on the surface or in the middle8 ,on the back or fore side of it8 ,if it be conjoined with the extension1 it must exist somewhere within its dimensions4 ,if it exist within its dimensions1 it must either exist in one particular part2 and then that particular part is indivisible1 and the perception is conjoined only with it1 not with the extension3 ,or if the thought exists in every part1 it must also be extended1 and separable1 and divisible1 as well as the body2 which is utterly absurd and contradictory4 ,for can any one conceive a passion of a yard in length1 a foot in breadth1 and an inch in thickness8 ,thought1 therefore1 and extension are qualities wholly incompatible1 and never can incorporate together into one subject4 ,this argument affects not the question concerning the substance of the soul1 but only that concerning its local conjunction with matter2 and therefore it may not be improper to consider in general what objects are1 or are not susceptible of a local conjunction4 ,this is a curious question1 and may lead us to some discoveries of considerable moment4 ,the first notion of space and extension is derived solely from the senses of sight and feeling2 nor is there any thing1 but what is coloured or tangible1 that has parts disposed after such a manner1 as to convey that idea4 ,when we diminish or encrease a relish1 it is not after the same manner that we diminish or encrease any visible object2 and when several sounds strike our hearing at once1 custom and reflection alone make us form an idea of the degrees of the distance and contiguity of those bodies1 from which they are derived4 ,whatever marks the place of its existence either must be extended1 or must be a mathematical point1 without parts or composition4 ,what is extended must have a particular figure1 as square1 round1 triangular2 none of which will agree to a desire1 or indeed to any impression or idea1 except to these two senses above-mentioned4 ,neither ought a desire1 though indivisible1 to be considered as a mathematical point4 ,for in that case it would be possible1 by the addition of others1 to make two1 three1 four desires1 and these disposed and situated in such a manner1 as to have a determinate length1 breadth and thickness2 which is evidently absurd4 ,it will not be surprising after this1 if ,i deliver a maxim1 which is condemned by several metaphysicians1 and is esteemed contrary to the most certain principles of hum reason4 ,this maxim is that an object may exist1 and yet be no where3 and ,i assert1 that this is not only possible1 but that the greatest part of beings do and must exist after this manner4 ,an object may be said to be no where1 when its parts are not so situated with respect to each other1 as to form any figure or quantity2 nor the whole with respect to other bodies so as to answer to our notions of contiguity or distance4 ,now this is evidently the case with all our perceptions and objects1 except those of the sight and feeling4 ,a moral reflection cannot be placed on the right or on the left hand of a passion1 nor can a smell or sound be either of a circular or a square figure4 ,these objects and perceptions1 so far from requiring any particular place1 are absolutely incompatible with it1 and even the imagination cannot attribute it to them4 ,and as to the absurdity of supposing them to be no where1 we may consider1 that if the passions and sentiments appear to the perception to have any particular place1 the idea of extension might be derived from them1 as well as from the sight and touch2 contrary to what we have already established4 ,if they ,,appear not to have any particular place1 they may possibly exist in the same manner2 since whatever we conceive is possible4 ,it will not now be necessary to prove1 that those perceptions1 which are simple1 and exist no where1 are incapable of any conjunction in place with matter or body1 which is extended and divisible2 since it is impossible to found a relation but on some common quality4 ,it may be better worth our while to remark1 that this question of the local conjunction of objects does not only occur in metaphysical disputes concerning the nature of the soul1 but that even in common life we have every moment occasion to examine it4 ,thus supposing we consider a fig at one end of the table1 and an olive at the other1 it is evident1 that in forming the complex ideas of these substances1 one of the most obvious is that of their different relishes2 and it is as evident1 that we incorporate and conjoin these qualities with such as are coloured and tangible4 ,the bitter taste of the one1 and sweet of the other are supposed to lie in the very visible body1 and to be separated from each other by the whole length of the table4 ,this is so notable and so natural an illusion1 that it may be proper to consider the principles1 from which it is derived4 ,though an extended object be incapable of a conjunction in place with another1 that exists without any place or extension1 yet are they susceptible of many other relations4 ,thus the taste and smell of any fruit are inseparable from its other qualities of colour and tangibility2 and whichever of them be the cause or effect1 it is certain they are always co-existent4 ,nor are they only co-existent in general1 but also co-temporary in their appearance in the mind2 and it is upon the application of the extended body to our senses we perceive its particular taste and smell4 ,these relations1 then1 of causation1 and contiguity in the time of their appearance1 betwixt the extended object and the quality1 which exists without any particular place1 must have such an effect on the mind1 that upon the appearance of one it will immediately turn its thought to the conception of the other4 ,nor is this all4 ,we not only turn our thought from one to the other upon account of their relation1 but likewise endeavour to give them a new relation1 viz4 that of a ,,conjunction ,,in ,,place1 that we may render the transition more easy and natural4 ,for it is a quality1 which ,i shall often have occasion to remark in human nature1 and shall explain more fully in its proper place1 that when objects are united by any relation1 we have a strong propensity to add some new relation to them1 in order to compleat the union4 ,in our arrangement of bodies we never fail to place such as are resembling1 in contiguity to each other1 or at least in correspondent points of view3 ,why8 but because we feel a satisfaction in joining the relation of contiguity to that of resemblance1 or the resemblance of situation to that of qualities4 ,the effects this propensity have been#i already observed in that resemblance1 which we so readily suppose betwixt particular impressions and their external causes4 ,but we shall not find a more evident effect of it1 than in the present instance1 where from the relations of causation and contiguity in time betwixt two objects1 we feign likewise that of a conjunction in place1 in order to strengthen the connexion4 #i ,sect4 #b1 towards the end4 ,but whatever confused notions we may form of an union in place betwixt an extended body1 as a fig1 and its particular taste1 it is certain that upon reflection we must observe this union something altogether unintelligible and contradictory4 ,for should we ask ourselves one obvious question1 viz4 if the taste1 which we conceive to be contained in the circumference of the body1 is in every part of it or in one only1 we must quickly find ourselves at a loss1 and perceive the impossibility of ever giving a satisfactory answer4 ,we cannot rely1 that it is only in one part3 ,for experience convinces us1 that every part has the same relish4 ,we can as little reply1 that it exists in every part3 ,for then we must suppose it figured and extended2 which is absurd and incomprehensible4 ,here then we are influenced by two principles directly contrary to each other1 viz4 that inclination of our fancy by which we are determined to incorporate the taste with the extended object1 and our reason1 which shows us the impossibility of such an union4 ,being divided betwixt these opposite principles1 we renounce neither one nor the other1 but involve the subject in such confusion and obscurity1 that we no longer perceive the opposition4 ,we suppose1 that the taste exists within the circumference of the body1 but in such a manner1 that it fills the whole without extension1 and exists entire in every part without separation4 ,in short1 we use in our most familiar way of thinking1 that scholastic principle1 which1 when crudely proposed1 appears so shocking1 of ,,totum ,,in ,,toto ,,tolum ,,in ,,qualibet ,,parte3 ,which is much the same1 as if we should say1 that a thing is in a certain place1 and yet is not there4 ,all this absurdity proceeds from our endeavouring to bestow a place on what is utterly incapable of it2 and that endeavour again arises from our inclination to compleat an union1 which is founded on causation1 and a contiguity of time1 by attributing to the objects a conjunction in place4 ,but if ever reason be of sufficient force to overcome prejudice1 it is certain1 that in the present case it must prevail4 ,for we have only this choice left1 either to suppose that some beings exist without any place2 or that they are figured and extended2 or that when they are incorporated with extended objects1 the whole is in the whole1 and the whole in every part4 ,the absurdity of the two last suppositions proves sufficiently the veracity of the first4 ,nor is there any fourth opinion4 ,for as to the supposition of their existence in the manner of mathematical points1 it resolves itself into the second opinion1 and supposes1 that several passions may be placed in a circular figure1 and that a certain number of smells1 conjoined with a certain number of sounds1 may make a body of twelve cubic inches2 which appears ridiculous upon the bare mentioning of it4 ,but though in this view of things we cannot refuse to condemn the materialists1 who conjoin all thought with extension2 yet a little reflection will show us equal reason for blaming their antagonists1 who conjoin all thought with a simple and indivisible substance4 ,the most vulgar philosophy informs us1 that no external object can make itself known to the mind immediately1 and without the interposition of an image or perception4 ,that table1 which just now appears to me1 is only a perception1 and all its qualities are qualities of a perception4 ,now the most obvious of all its qualities is extension4 ,the perception consists of parts4 ,these parts are so situated1 as to afford us the notion of distance and contiguity2 of length1 breadth1 and thickness4 ,the termination of these three dimensions is what we call figure4 ,this figure is moveable1 separable1 and divisible4 ,mobility1 and separability are the distinguishing properties of extended objects4 ,and to cut short all disputes1 the very idea of extension is copyed from nothing but an impression1 and consequently must perfectly agree to it4 ,to say the idea of extension agrees to any thing1 is to say it is extended4 ,the free-thinker may now triumph in his turn2 and having found there are impressions and ideas really extended1 may ask his antagonists1 how they can incorporate a simple and indivisible subject with an extended perception8 ,all the arguments of ,theologians may here be retorted upon them4 ,is the indivisible subject1 or immaterial substance1 if you will1 on the left or on the right hand of the perception8 ,is it in this particular part1 or in that other8 ,is it in every part without being extended8 ,or is it entire in any one part without deserting the rest8 ,it is impossible to give any answer to these questions1 but what will both be absurd in itself1 and will account for the union of our indivisible perceptions with an extended substance4 ,this gives me an occasion to take a-new into consideration the question concerning the substance of the soul2 and though ,i have condemned that question as utterly unintelligible1 yet ,i cannot forbear proposing some farther reflections concerning it4 ,i assert1 that the doctrine of the immateriality1 simplicity1 and indivisibility of a thinking substance is a true atheism1 and will serve to justify all those sentiments1 for which ,spinoza is so universally infamous4 ,from this topic1 ,i hope at least to reap one advantage1 that my adversaries will not have any pretext to render the present doctrine odious by their declamations1 when they see that they can be so easily retorted on them4 ,the fundamental principle of the atheism of ,spinoza is the doctrine of the simplicity of the universe1 and the unity of that substance1 in which he supposes both thought and matter to inhere4 ,there is only one substance1 says he1 in the world2 and that substance is perfectly simple and indivisible1 and exists every where1 without any local presence4 ,whatever we discover externally by sensation2 whatever we feel internally by reflection2 all these are nothing but modifications of that one1 simple1 and necessarily existent being1 and are not possest of any separate or distinct existence4 ,every passion of the soul2 every configuration of matter1 however different and various1 inhere in the same substance1 and preserve in themselves their characters of distinction1 without communicating them to that subject1 in which they inhere4 ,the same substratum1 if ,i may so speak1 supports the most different modifications1 without any difference in itself2 and varies them1 without any variation4 ,neither time1 nor place1 nor all the diversity of nature are able to produce any composition or change in its perfect simplicity and identity4 ,i believe this brief exposition of the principles of that famous atheist will be sufficient for the present purpose1 and that without entering farther into these gloomy and obscure regions1 ,i shall be able to shew1 that this hideous hypothesis is almost the same with that of the immateriality of the soul1 which has become so popular4 ,to make this evident1 let us#aj remember1 that as every idea is derived from a preceding perception1 it is impossible our idea of a perception1 and that of an object or external existence can ever represent what are specifically different from each other4 ,whatever difference we may suppose betwixt them1 it is still incomprehensible to us2 and we are obliged either to conceive an external object merely as a relation without a relative1 or to make it the very same with a perception or impression4 #aj ,part ,,ii1 ,sect4 #f4 ,the consequence ,i shall draw from this may1 at first sight1 appear a mere sophism2 but upon the least examination will be found solid and satisfactory4 ,i say then1 that since we may suppose1 but never can conceive a specific deference betwixt an object and impression2 any conclusion we form concerning the connexion and repugnance of impressions1 will not be known certainly to be applicable to objects2 but that on the other hand1 whatever conclusions of this kind we form concerning objects1 will most certainly be applicable to impressions4 ,the reason is not difficult4 ,as an object is supposed to be different from an impression1 we cannot be sure1 that the circumstance1 upon which we found our reasoning1 is common to both1 supposing we form the reasoning upon the impression4 ,it is still possible1 that the object may differ from it in that particular4 ,but when we first form our reasoning concerning the object1 it is beyond doubt1 that the same reasoning must extend to the impression3 ,and that because the quality of the object1 upon which the argument is founded1 must at least be conceived by the mind2 and could not be conceived1 unless it were common to an impression2 since we have no idea but what is derived from that origin4 ,thus we may establish it as a certain maxim1 that we can never1 by any principle1 but by an irregular kind#aa form the coherence of our perceptions4 of reasoning from experience1 discover a connexion or repugnance betwixt objects1 which extends not to impressions2 though the inverse proposition may not be equally true1 that all the discoverable relations of impressions are common to objects4 #aa ,such as that of ,sect4 #b1 form the coherence of our perceptions4 ,to apply this to the present case2 there are two different systems of being presented1 to which ,i suppose myself under necessity of assigning some substance1 or ground of inhesion4 ,i observe first the universe of objects or of body3 ,the sun1 moon and stars2 the earth1 seas1 plants1 animals1 men1 ships1 houses1 and other productions either of art or nature4 ,here ,spinoza appears1 and tells me1 that these are only modifications2 and that the subject1 in which they inhere1 is simple1 incompounded1 and indivisible4 ,after this ,i consider the other system of beings1 viz4 the universe of thought1 or my impressions and ideas4 ,there ,i observe another sun1 moon and stars2 an earth1 and seas1 covered and inhabited by plants and animals2 towns1 houses1 mountains1 rivers2 and in short every thing ,i can discover or conceive in the first system4 ,upon my enquiring concerning these1 ,theologians present themselves1 and tell me1 that these also are modifications1 and modifications of one simple1 uncompounded1 and indivisible substance4 ,immediately upon which ,i am deafened with the noise of a hundred voices1 that treat the first hypothesis with detestation and scorn1 and the second with applause and veneration4 ,i turn my attention to these hypotheses to see what may be the reason of so great a partiality2 and find that they have the same fault of being unintelligible1 and that as far as we can understand them1 they are so much alike1 that it is impossible to discover any absurdity in one1 which is not common to both of them4 ,we have no idea of any quality in an object1 which does not agree to1 and may not represent a quality in an impression2 and that because all our ideas are derived from our impressions4 ,we can never1 therefore1 find any repugnance betwixt an extended object as a modification1 and a simple uncompounded essence1 as its substance1 unless that repugnance takes place equally betwixt the perception or impression of that extended object1 and the same uncompounded essence4 ,every idea of a quality in an object passes through an impression2 and therefore every perceivable relation1 whether of connexion or repugnance1 must be common both to objects and impressions4 ,but though this argument1 considered in general1 seems evident beyond all doubt and contradiction1 yet to make it more clear and sensible1 let us survey it in detail2 and see whether all the absurdities1 which have been found in the system of ,spinoza1 may not likewise be discovered in that of ,theologians4#ab #ab ,see ,bayle's dictionary1 article of ,spinoza4 ,first1 ,it has been said against ,spinoza1 according to the scholastic way of talking1 rather than thinking1 that a mode1 not being any distinct or separate existence1 must be the very same with its substance1 and consequently the extension of the universe1 must be in a manner identifyed with that1 simple1 uncompounded essence1 in which the universe is supposed to inhere4 ,but this1 it may be pretended1 is utterly impossible and inconceivable unless the indivisible substance expand itself1 so as to correspond to the extension1 or the extension contract itself1 so as to answer to the indivisible substance4 ,this argument seems just1 as far as we can understand it2 and it is plain nothing is required1 but a change in the terms1 to apply the same argument to our extended perceptions1 and the simple essence of the soul2 the ideas of objects and perceptions being in every respect the same1 only attended with the supposition of a difference1 that is unknown and incomprehensible4 ,secondly1 ,it has been said1 that we have no idea of substance1 which is not applicable to matter2 nor any idea of a distinct substance1 which is not applicable to every distinct portion of matter4 ,matter1 therefore1 is not a mode but a substance1 and each part of matter is not a distinct mode1 but a distinct substance4 ,i have already proved1 that we have no perfect idea of substance2 but that taking it for something1 that can exist by itself1 it is evident every perception is a substance1 and every distinct part of a perception a distinct substance3 ,and consequently the one hypothesis labours under the same difficulties in this respect with the other4 ,thirdly1 ,it has been objected to the system of one simple substance in the universe1 that this substance being the support or substratum of every thing1 must at the very same instant be modifyed into forms1 which are contrary and incompatible4 ,the round and square figures are incompatible in the same substance at the same time4 ,how then is it possible1 that the same substance can at once be modifyed into that square table1 and into this round one8 ,i ask the same question concerning the impressions of these tables2 and find that the answer is no more satisfactory in one case than in the other4 ,it appears1 then1 that to whatever side we turn1 the same difficulties follow us1 and that we cannot advance one step towards the establishing the simplicity and immateriality o the soul1 without preparing the way for a dangerous and irrecoverable atheism4 ,it is the same case1 if instead o calling thought a modification of the soul1 we should give it the more antient1 and yet more modish name of an action4 ,by an action we mean much the same thing1 as what is commonly called an abstract mode2 that is1 something1 which1 properly speaking1 is neither distinguishable1 nor separable from its substance1 and is only conceived by a distinction of reason1 or an abstraction4 ,but nothing is gained by this change of the term of modification1 for that of action2 nor do we free ourselves from one single difficulty by its means2 as will appear from the two following reflexions4 ,first1 ,i observe1 that the word1 action1 according to this explication of it1 can never justly be applied to any perception1 as derived from a mind or thinking substance4 ,our perceptions are all really different1 and separable1 and distinguishable from each other1 and from everything else1 which we can imagine3 and therefore it is impossible to conceive1 how they can be the action or abstract mode of any substance4 ,the instance of motion1 which is commonly made use of to shew after what manner perception depends1 as an action1 upon its substance1 rather confounds than instructs us4 ,motion to all appearance induces no real nor essential change on the body1 but only varies its relation to other objects4 ,but betwixt a person in the morning walking a garden with company1 agreeable to him2 and a person in the afternoon inclosed in a dungeon1 and full of terror1 despair1 and resentment1 there seems to be a radical difference1 and of quite another kind1 than what is produced on a body by the change of its situation4 ,as we conclude from the distinction and separability of their ideas1 that external objects have a separate existence from each other2 so when we make these ideas themselves our objects1 we must draw the same conclusion concerning them1 according to the precedent reasoning4 ,at least it must be confest1 that having idea of the substance of the soul1 it is impossible for us to tell how it can admit of such differences1 and even contrarieties of perception without any fundamental change2 and consequently can never tell in what sense perceptions are actions of that substance4 ,the use1 therefore1 of the word1 action1 unaccompanyed with any meaning1 instead of that of modification1 makes no addition to our knowledge1 nor is of any advantage to the doctrine of the immateriality of the soul4 ,i add in the second place1 that if it brings any advantage to that cause1 it must bring an equal to the cause of atheism4 ,for do our ,theologians pretend to make a monopoly of the word1 action1 and may not the atheists likewise take possession of it1 and affirm that plants1 animals1 men1 c4 are nothing but particular actions of one simple universal substance1 which exerts itself from a blind and absolute necessity8 ,this you'll say is utterly absurd4 ,i own it is unintelligible2 but at the same time assert1 according to the principles above-explained1 that it is impossible to discover any absurdity in the supposition1 that all the various objects in nature are actions of one simple substance1 which absurdity will not be applicable to a like supposition concerning impressions and ideas4 ,from these hypotheses concerning the substance and local conjunction of our perceptions1 we may pass to another1 which is more intelligible than the former1 and more important than the latter1 viz4 concerning the cause of our perceptions4 ,matter and motion1 it is commonly said in the schools1 however varyed1 are still matter and motion1 and produce only a difference in the position and situation of objects4 ,divide a body as often as you please1 it is still body4 ,place it in any figure1 nothing ever results but figure1 or the relation of parts4 ,move it in any manner1 you still find motion or a change of relation4 ,it is absurd to imagine1 that motion in a circle1 for instance1 should be nothing but merely motion in a circle2 while motion in another direction1 as in an ellipse1 should also be a passion or moral reflection3 ,that the shocking of two globular particles should become a sensation of pain1 and that the meeting of two triangular ones should afford a pleasure4 ,now as these different shocks1 and variations1 and mixtures are the only changes1 of which matter is susceptible1 and as these never afford us any idea of thought or perception1 it is concluded to be impossible1 that thought can ever be caused by matter4 ,few have been able to withstand the seeming evidence of this argument2 and yet nothing in the world is more easy than to refute it4 ,we need only reflect on what has been proved at large1 that we are never sensible of any connexion betwixt causes and effects1 and that it is only by our experience of their constant conjunction1 we can arrive at any knowledge of this relation4 ,now as all objects1 which are not contrary1 are susceptible of a constant conjunction1 and as no real objects are contrary2#ac ,i have inferred from these principles1 that to consider the matter ,a ,,priori1 any thing may produce any thing1 and that we shall never discover a reason1 why any object may or may not be the cause of any other1 however great1 or however little the resemblance may be betwixt them4 ,this evidently destroys the precedent reasoning concerning the cause of thought or perception4 ,for though there appear no manner of connexion betwixt motion or thought1 the case is the same with all other causes and effects4 ,place one body of a pound weight on one end of a lever1 and another body of the same weight on another end2 you will never find in these bodies any principle of motion dependent on their distances from the center1 more than of thought and perception4 ,if you pretend1 therefore1 to prove a priori1 that such a position of bodies can never cause thought2 because turn it which way you will1 it is nothing but a position of bodies2 you must by the same course of reasoning conclude1 that it can never produce motion2 since there is no more apparent connexion in the one case than in the other4 ,but as this latter conclusion is contrary to evident experience1 and as it is possible we may have a like experience in the operations of the mind1 and may perceive a constant conjunction of thought and motion2 you reason too hastily1 when from the mere consideration of the ideas1 you conclude that it is impossible motion can ever produce thought1 or a different position of parts give rise to a different passion or reflection4 ,nay it is not only possible we may have such an experience1 but it is certain we have it2 since every one may perceive1 that the different dispositions of his body change his thoughts and sentiments4 ,and should it be said1 that this depends on the union of soul and body2 ,i would answer1 that we must separate the question concerning the substance of the mind from that concerning the cause of its thought2 and that confining ourselves to the latter question we find by the comparing their ideas1 that thought and motion are different from each other1 and by experience1 that they are constantly united2 which being all the circumstances1 that enter into the idea of cause and effect1 when applied to the operations of matter1 we may certainly conclude1 that motion may be1 and actually is1 the cause of thought and perception4 #ac ,part ,,iii4 ,sect4 #ae4 ,there seems only this dilemma left us in the present case2 either to assert1 that nothing can be the cause of another1 but where the mind can perceive the connexion in its idea of the objects3 ,or to maintain1 that all objects1 which we find constantly conjoined1 are upon that account to be regarded as causes and effects4 ,if we choose the first part of the dilemma1 these are the consequences4 ,first1 ,we in reality affirm1 that there is no such thing in the universe as a cause or productive principle1 not even the deity himself2 since our idea of that supreme ,being is derived from particular impressions1 none of which contain any efficacy1 nor seem to have any connexion with any other existence4 ,as to what may be said1 that the connexion betwixt the idea of an infinitely powerful being1 and that of any effect1 which he wills1 is necessary and unavoidable2 ,i answer1 that we have no idea of a being endowed with any power1 much less of one endowed with infinite power4 ,but if we will change expressions1 we can only define power by connexion2 and then in saying1 that the idea1 of an infinitely powerful being is connected with that of every effect1 which he wills1 we really do no more than assert1 that a being1 whose volition is connected with every effect1 is connected with every effect3 which is an identical proposition1 and gives us no insight into the nature of this power or connexion4 ,but1 secondly1 supposing1 that the deity were the great and efficacious principle1 which supplies the deficiency of all causes1 this leads us into the grossest impieties and absurdities4 ,for upon the same account1 that we have recourse to him in natural operations1 and assert that matter cannot of itself communicate motion1 or produce thought1 viz4 because there is no apparent connexion betwixt these objects2 ,i say1 upon the very same account1 we must acknowledge that the deity is the author of all our volitions and perceptions2 since they have no more apparent connexion either with one another1 or with the supposed but unknown substance of the soul4 ,this agency of the supreme ,being we know to have been asserted by#ad several philosophers with relation to all the actions of the mind1 except volition1 or rather an inconsiderable part of volition2 though it is easy to perceive1 that this exception is a mere pretext1 to avoid the dangerous consequences of that doctrine4 ,if nothing be active but what has an apparent power1 thought is in no case any more active than matter2 and if this inactivity must make us have recourse to a deity1 the supreme being is the real cause of all our actions1 bad as well as good1 vicious as well as virtuous4 #ad ,as father ,malebranche and other ,cartesians4 ,thus we are necessarily reduced to the other side of the dilemma1 viz44 that all objects1 which are found to be constantly conjoined1 are upon that account only to be regarded as causes and effects4 ,now as all objects1 which are not contrary1 are susceptible of a constant conjunction1 and as no real objects are contrary3 it follows1 that for ought we can determine by the mere ideas1 any thing may be the cause or effect of any thing2 which evidently gives the advantage to the materialists above their antagonists4 ,to pronounce1 then1 the final decision upon the whole2 the question concerning the substance of the soul is absolutely unintelligible3 ,all our perceptions are not susceptible of a local union1 either with what is extended or unextended3 there being some of them of the one kind1 and some of the other3 ,and as the constant conjunction of objects constitutes the very essence of cause and effect1 matter and motion may often be regarded as the causes of thought1 as far as we have any notion of that relation4 ,it is certainly a kind of indignity to philosophy1 whose sovereign authority ought every where to be acknowledged1 to oblige her on every occasion to make apologies for her conclusions1 and justify herself to every particular art and science1 which may be offended at her4 ,this puts one in mind of a king arrainged for high-treason against his subjects4 ,there is only one occasion1 when philosophy will think it necessary and even honourable to justify herself1 and that is1 when religion may seem to be in the least offended2 whose rights are as dear to her as her own1 and are indeed the same4 ,if any one1 therefore1 should imagine that the foregoing arguments are any ways dangerous to religion1 ,i hope the following apology will remove his apprehensions4 ,there is no foundation for any conclusion a priori1 either concerning the operations or duration of any object1 of which it is possible for the human mind to form a conception4 ,any object may be imagined to become entirely inactive1 or to be annihilated in a moment2 and it is an evident principle1 that whatever we can imagine1 is possible4 ,now this is no more true of matter1 than of spirit2 of an extended compounded substance1 than of a simple and unextended4 ,in both cases the metaphysical arguments for the immortality of the soul are equally inconclusive3 and in both cases the moral arguments and those derived from the analogy of nature are equally strong and convincing4 ,if my philosophy1 therefore1 makes no addition to the arguments for religion1 ,i have at least the satisfaction to think it takes nothing from them1 but that every thing remains precisely as before4 ,,sect4 ,,vi4 ,,of ,,personal ,,identity ,there are some philosophers who imagine we are every moment intimately conscious of what we call our ,,self2 that we feel its existence and its continuance in existence2 and are certain1 beyond the evidence of a demonstration1 both o its perfect identity and simplicity4 ,the strongest sensation1 the most violent passion1 say they1 instead of distracting us from this view1 only fix it the more intensely1 and make us consider their influence on self either by their pain or pleasure4 ,to attempt a farther proof of this were to weaken its evidence2 since no proof can be derived from any fact1 of which we are so intimately conscious2 nor is there any thing1 of which we can be certain1 if we doubt of this4 ,unluckily all these positive assertions are contrary to that very experience1 which is pleaded for them1 nor have we any idea of self1 after the manner it is here explained4 ,for from what impression could this idea be derived8 ,this question it is impossible to answer without a manifest contradiction and absurdity2 and yet it is a question1 which must necessarily be answered1 if we would have the idea of self pass for clear and intelligible1 ,it must be some one impression1 that gives rise to every real idea4 ,but self or person is not any one impression1 but that to which our several impressions and ideas are supposed to have a reference4 ,if any impression gives rise to the idea of self1 that impression must continue invariably the same1 through the whole course of our lives2 since self is supposed to exist after that manner4 ,but there is no impression constant and invariable4 ,pain and pleasure1 grief and joy1 passions and sensations succeed each other1 and never all exist at the same time4 ,it cannot1 therefore1 be from any of these impressions1 or from any other1 that the idea of self is derived2 and consequently there is no such idea4 ,but farther1 what must become of all our particular perceptions upon this hypothesis8 ,all these are different1 and distinguishable1 and separable from each other1 and may be separately considered1 and may exist separately1 and have no ,deed of tiny thing to support their existence4 ,after what manner1 therefore1 do they belong to self2 and how are they connected with it8 ,for my part1 when ,i enter most intimately into what ,i call myself1 ,i always stumble on some particular perception or other1 of heat or cold1 light or shade1 love or hatred1 pain or pleasure4 ,i never can catch myself at any time without a perception1 and never can observe any thing but the perception4 ,when my perceptions are removed for any time1 as by sound sleep2 so long am ,i insensible of myself1 and may truly be said not to exist4 ,and were all my perceptions removed by death1 and could ,i neither think1 nor feel1 nor see1 nor love1 nor hate after the dissolution of my body1 ,i should be entirely annihilated1 nor do ,i conceive what is farther requisite to make me a perfect non-entity4 ,if any one1 upon serious and unprejudiced reflection thinks he has a different notion of himself1 ,i must confess ,i can reason no longer with him4 ,all ,i can allow him is1 that he may be in the right as well as ,i1 and that we are essentially different in this particular4 ,he may1 perhaps1 perceive something simple and continued1 which he calls himself2 though ,i am certain there is no such principle in me4 ,but setting aside some metaphysicians of this kind1 ,i may venture to affirm of the rest of mankind1 that they are nothing but a bundle or collection of different perceptions1 which succeed each other with an inconceivable rapidity1 and are in a perpetual flux and movement4 ,our eyes cannot turn in their sockets without varying our perceptions4 ,our thought is still more variable than our sight2 and all our other senses and faculties contribute to this change2 nor is there any single power of the soul1 which remains unalterably the same1 perhaps for one moment4 ,the mind is a kind of theatre1 where several perceptions successively make their appearance2 pass1 re-pass1 glide away1 and mingle in an infinite variety of postures and situations4 ,there is properly no simplicity in it at one time1 nor identity in different2 whatever natural propension we may have to imagine that simplicity and identity4 ,the comparison of the theatre must not mislead us4 ,they are the successive perceptions only1 that constitute the mind2 nor have we the most distant notion of the place1 where these scenes are represented1 or of the materials1 of which it is composed4 ,what then gives us so great a propension to ascribe an identity to these successive perceptions1 and to suppose ourselves possest of an invariable and uninterrupted existence through the whole course of our lives8 ,in order to answer this question1 we must distinguish betwixt personal identity1 as it regards our thought or imagination1 and as it regards our passions or the concern we take in ourselves4 ,the first is our present subject2 and to explain it perfectly we must take the matter pretty deep1 and account for that identity1 which we attribute to plants and animals2 there being a great analogy betwixt it1 and the identity of a self or person4 ,we have a distinct idea of an object1 that remains invariable and uninterrupted through a supposed variation of time2 and this idea we call that of identity or sameness4 ,we have also a distinct idea of several different objects existing in succession1 and connected together by a close relation2 and this to an accurate view affords as perfect a notion of diversity1 as if there was no manner of relation among the objects4 ,but though these two ideas of identity1 and a succession of related objects be in themselves perfectly distinct1 and even contrary1 yet it is certain1 that in our common way of thinking they are generally confounded with each other4 ,that action of the imagination1 by which we consider the uninterrupted and invariable object1 and that by which we reflect on the succession of related objects1 are almost the same to the feeling1 nor is there much more effort of thought required in the latter case than in the former4 ,the relation facilitates the transition of the mind from one object to another1 and renders its passage as smooth as if it contemplated one continued object4 ,this resemblance is the cause of the confusion and mistake1 and makes us substitute the notion of identity1 instead of that of related objects4 ,however at one instant we may consider the related succession as variable or interrupted1 we are sure the next to ascribe to it a perfect identity1 and regard it as enviable and uninterrupted4 ,our propensity to this mistake is so great from the resemblance above-mentioned1 that we fall into it before we are aware2 and though we incessantly correct ourselves by reflection1 and return to a more accurate method of thinking1 yet we cannot long sustain our philosophy1 or take off this biass from the imagination4 ,our last resource is to yield to it1 and boldly assert that these different related objects are in effect the same1 however interrupted and variable4 ,in order to justify to ourselves this absurdity1 we often feign some new and unintelligible principle1 that connects the objects together1 and prevents their interruption or variation4 ,thus we feign the continued existence of the perceptions of our senses1 to remove the interruption3 and run into the notion of a soul1 and self1 and substance1 to disguise the variation4 ,but we may farther observe1 that where we do not give rise to such a fiction1 our propension to confound identity with relation is so great1 that we are apt to imagine#ae something unknown and mysterious1 connecting the parts1 beside their relation2 and this ,i take to be the case with regard to the identity we ascribe to plants and vegetables4 ,and even when this does not take place1 we still feel a propensity to confound these ideas1 though we are not able fully to satisfy ourselves in that particular1 nor find any thing invariable and uninterrupted to justify our notion of identity4 #ae ,if the reader is desirous to see how a great genius may be influencd by these seemingly trivial principles of the imagination1 as well as the mere vulgar1 let him read my ,lord ,,shaftsbury',s reasonings concerning the uniting principle of the universe1 and the identity of plants and animals4 ,see his ,,moralists3 or1 ,,philosophical ,,rhapsody4 ,thus the controversy concerning identity is not merely a dispute of words4 ,for when we attribute identity1 in an improper sense1 to variable or interrupted objects1 our mistake is not confined to the expression1 but is commonly attended with a fiction1 either of something invariable and uninterrupted1 or of something mysterious and inexplicable1 or at least with a propensity to such fictions4 ,what will suffice to prove this hypothesis to the satisfaction of every fair enquirer1 is to shew from daily experience and observation1 that the objects1 which are variable or interrupted1 and yet are supposed to continue the same1 are such only as consist of a succession of parts1 connected together by resemblance1 contiguity1 or causation4 ,for as such a succession answers evidently to our notion of diversity1 it can only be by mistake we ascribe to it an identity2 and as the relation of parts1 which leads us into this mistake1 is really nothing but a quality1 which produces an association of ideas1 and an easy transition of the imagination from one to another1 it can only be from the resemblance1 which this act of the mind bears to that1 by which we contemplate one continued object1 that the error arises4 ,our chief business1 then1 must be to prove1 that all objects1 to which we ascribe identity1 without observing their invariableness and uninterruptedness1 are such as consist of a succession of related objects4 ,in order to this1 suppose any mass of matter1 of which the parts are contiguous and connected1 to be placed before us2 it is plain we must attribute a perfect identity to this mass1 provided all the parts continue uninterruptedly and invariably the same1 whatever motion or change of place we may observe either in the whole or in any of the parts4 ,but supposing some very small or inconsiderable part to be added to the mass1 or subtracted from it2 though this absolutely destroys the identity of the whole1 strictly speaking2 yet as we seldom think so accurately1 we scruple not to pronounce a mass of matter the same1 where we find so trivial an alteration4 ,the passage of the thought from the object before the change to the object after it1 is so smooth and easy1 that we scarce perceive the transition1 and are apt to imagine1 that it is nothing but a continued survey of the same object4 ,there is a very remarkable circumstance1 that attends this experiment2 which is1 that though the change of any considerable part in a mass of matter destroys the identity of the whole1 let we must measure the greatness of the part1 not absolutely1 but by its proportion to the whole4 ,the addition or diminution of a mountain would not be sufficient to produce a diversity in a planet3 though the change of a very few inches would be able to destroy the identity of some bodies4 ,it will be impossible to account for this1 but by reflecting that objects operate upon the mind1 and break or interrupt the continuity of its actions not according to their real greatness1 but according to their proportion to each other3 ,and therefore1 since this interruption makes an object cease to appear the same1 it must be the uninterrupted progress o the thought1 which constitutes the imperfect identity4 ,this may be confirmed by another phenomenon4 ,a change in any considerable part of a body destroys its identity2 but it is remarkable1 that where the change is produced gradually and insensibly we are less apt to ascribe to it the same effect4 ,the reason can plainly be no other1 than that the mind1 in following the successive changes of the body1 feels an easy passage from the surveying its condition in one moment to the viewing of it in another1 and at no particular time perceives any interruption in its actions4 ,from which continued perception1 it ascribes a continued existence and identity to the object4 ,but whatever precaution we may use in introducing the changes gradually1 and making them proportionable to the whole1 it is certain1 that where the changes are at last observed to become considerable1 we make a scruple of ascribing identity to such different objects4 ,there is1 however1 another artifice1 by which we may induce the imagination to advance a step farther2 and that is1 by producing a reference of the parts to each other1 and a combination to some common end or purpose4 ,a ship1 of which a considerable part has been changed by frequent reparations1 is still considered as the same2 nor does the difference of the materials hinder us from ascribing an identity to it4 ,the common end1 in which the parts conspire1 is the same under all their variations1 and affords an easy transition of the imagination from one situation of the body to another4 ,but this is still more remarkable1 when we add a sympathy of parts to their common end1 and suppose that they bear to each other1 the reciprocal relation of cause and effect in all their actions and operations4 ,this is the case with all animals and vegetables2 where not only the several parts have a reference to some general purpose1 but also a mutual dependence on1 and connexion with each other4 ,the effect of so strong a relation is1 that though every one must allow1 that in a very few years both vegetables and animals endure a total change1 yet we still attribute identity to them1 while their form1 size1 and substance are entirely altered4 ,an oak1 that grows from a small plant to a large tree1 is still the same oak2 though there be not one particle of matter1 or figure of its parts the same4 ,an infant becomes a man-1 and is sometimes fat1 sometimes lean1 without any change in his identity4 ,we may also consider the two following phaenomena1 which are remarkable in their kind4 ,the first is1 that though we commonly be able to distinguish pretty exactly betwixt numerical and specific identity1 yet it sometimes happens1 that we confound them1 and in our thinking and reasoning employ the one for the other4 ,thus a man1 who bears a noise1 that is frequently interrupted and renewed1 says1 it is still the same noise2 though it is evident the sounds have only a specific identity or resemblance1 and there is nothing numerically the same1 but the cause1 which produced them4 ,in like manner it may be said without breach of the propriety of language1 that such a church1 which was formerly of brick1 fell to ruin1 and that the parish rebuilt the same church of free-stone1 and according to modern architecture4 ,here neither the form nor materials are the same1 nor is there any thing common to the two objects1 but their relation to the inhabitants of the parish2 and yet this alone is sufficient to make us denominate them the same4 ,but we must observe1 that in these cases the first object is in a manner annihilated before the second comes into existence2 by which means1 we are never presented in any one point of time with the idea of difference and multiplicity3 and for that reason are less scrupulous in calling them the same4 ,secondly1 ,we may remark1 that though in a succession of related objects1 it be in a manner requisite1 that the change of parts be not sudden nor entire1 in order to preserve the identity1 yet where the objects are in their nature changeable and inconstant1 we admit of a more sudden transition1 than would otherwise be consistent with that relation4 ,thus as the nature of a river consists in the motion and change of parts2 though in less than four and twenty hours these be totally altered2 this hinders not the river from continuing the same during several ages4 ,what is natural and essential to any thing is1 in a manner1 expected2 and what is expected makes less impression1 and appears of less moment1 than what is unusual and extraordinary4 ,a considerable change of the former kind seems really less to the imagination1 than the most trivial alteration of the latter2 and by breaking less the continuity of the thought1 has less influence in destroying the identity4 ,we now proceed to explain the nature of personal identity1 which has become so great a question ill philosophy1 especially of late years in ,england1 where all the abstruser sciences are studyed with a peculiar ardour and application4 ,and here it is evident1 the same method of reasoning must be continued which has so successfully explained the identity of plants1 and animals1 and ships1 and houses1 and of all the compounded and changeable productions either of art or nature4 ,the identity1 which we ascribe to the mind of man1 is only a fictitious one1 and of a like kind with that which we ascribe to vegetables and animal bodies4 ,it cannot1 therefore1 have a different origin1 but must proceed from a like operation of the imagination upon like objects4 ,but lest this argument should not convince the reader2 though in my opinion perfectly decisive2 let him weigh the following reasoning1 which is still closer and more immediate4 ,it is evident1 that the identity1 which we attribute to the human mind1 however perfect we may imagine it to be1 is not able to run the several different perceptions into one1 and make them lose their characters of distinction and difference1 which are essential to them4 ,it is still true1 that every distinct perception1 which enters into the composition of the mind1 is a distinct existence1 and is different1 and distinguishable1 and separable from every other perception1 either contemporary or successive4 ,but1 as1 notwithstanding this distinction and separability1 we suppose the whole train of perceptions to be united by identity1 a question naturally arises concerning this relation of identity2 whether it be something that really binds our several perceptions together1 or only associates their ideas in the imagination4 ,that is1 in other words1 whether in pronouncing concerning the identity of a person1 we observe some real bond among his perceptions1 or only feel one among the ideas we form of them4 ,this question we might easily decide1 if we would recollect what has been already proud at large1 that the understanding never observes any real connexion among objects1 and that even the union of cause and effect1 when strictly examined1 resolves itself into a customary association of ideas4 ,for from thence it evidently follows1 that identity is nothing really belonging to these different perceptions1 and uniting them together2 but is merely a quality1 which we attribute to them1 because of the union of their ideas in the imagination1 when we reflect upon them4 ,now the only qualities1 which can give ideas an union in the imagination1 are these three relations above-mentioned4 ,there are the uniting principles in the ideal world1 and without them every distinct object is separable by the mind1 and may be separately considered1 and appears not to have any more connexion with any other object1 than if disjoined by the greatest difference and remoteness4 ,it is1 therefore1 on some of these three relations of resemblance1 contiguity and causation1 that identity depends2 and as the very essence of these relations consists in their producing an easy transition of ideas2 it follows1 that our notions of personal identity1 proceed entirely from the smooth and uninterrupted progress of the thought along a train of connected ideas1 according to the principles above-explained4 ,the only question1 therefore1 which remains1 is1 by what relations this uninterrupted progress of our thought is produced1 when we consider the successive existence of a mind or thinking person4 ,and here it is evident we must confine ourselves to resemblance and causation1 and must drop contiguity1 which has little or no influence in the present case4 ,to begin with resemblance2 suppose we could see clearly into the breast of another1 and observe that succession of perceptions1 which constitutes his mind or thinking principle1 and suppose that he always preserves the memory of a considerable part of past perceptions2 it is evident that nothing could more contribute to the bestowing a relation on this succession amidst all its variations4 ,for what is the memory but a faculty1 by which we raise up the images of past perceptions8 ,and as an image necessarily resembles its object1 must not4 ,the frequent placing of these resembling perceptions in the chain of thought1 convey the imagination more easily from one link to another1 and make the whole seem like the continuance of one object8 ,in this particular1 then1 the memory not only discovers the identity1 but also contributes to its production1 by producing the relation of resemblance among the perceptions4 ,the case is the same whether we consider ourselves or others4 ,as to causation2 we may observe1 that the true idea of the human mind1 is to consider it as a system of different perceptions or different existences1 which are linked together by the relation of cause and effect1 and mutually produce1 destroy1 influence1 and modify each other4 ,our impressions give rise to their correspondent ideas2 said these ideas in their turn produce other impressions4 ,one thought chaces another1 and draws after it a third1 by which it is expelled in its turn4 ,in this respect1 ,i cannot compare the soul more properly to any thing than to a republic or commonwealth1 in which the several members are united by the reciprocal ties of government and subordination1 and give rise to other persons1 who propagate the same republic in the incessant changes of its parts4 ,and as the same individual republic may not only change its members1 but also its laws and constitutions2 in like manner the same person may vary his character and disposition1 as well as his impressions and ideas1 without losing his identity4 ,whatever changes he endures1 his several parts are still connected by the relation of causation4 ,and in this view our identity with regard to the passions serves to corroborate that with regard to the imagination1 by the making our distant perceptions influence each other1 and by giving us a present concern for our past or future pains or pleasures4 ,as a memory alone acquaints us with the continuance and extent of this succession of perceptions1 it is to be considered1 upon that account chiefly1 as the source of personal identity4 ,had we no memory1 we never should have any notion of causation1 nor consequently of that chain of causes and effects1 which constitute our self or person4 ,but having once acquired this notion of causation from the memory1 we can extend the same chain of causes1 and consequently the identity of car persons beyond our memory1 and can comprehend times1 and circumstances1 and actions1 which we have entirely forgot1 but suppose in general to have existed4 ,for how few of our past actions are there1 of which we have any memory8 ,who can tell me1 for instance1 what were his thoughts and actions on the #ast of ,january #agae1 the #aath of ,march #agai1 and the #crd of ,august #agcc8 ,or will he affirm1 because he has entirely forgot the incidents of these days1 that the present self is not the same person with the self of that time2 and by that means overturn all the most established notions of personal identity8 ,in this view1 therefore1 memory does not so much produce as discover personal identity1 by shewing us the relation of cause and effect among our different perceptions4 ,it will be incumbent on those1 who affirm that memory produces entirely our personal identity1 to give a reason why we can thus extend our identity beyond our memory4 ,the whole of this doctrine leads us to a conclusion1 which is of great importance in the present affair1 viz4 that all the nice and subtile questions concerning personal identity can never possibly be decided1 and are to be regarded rather as gramatical than as philosophical difficulties4 ,identity depends on the relations of ideas2 and these relations produce identity1 by means of that easy transition they occasion4 ,but as the relations1 and the easiness of the transition may diminish by insensible degrees1 we have no just standard1 by which we can decide any dispute concerning the time1 when they acquire or lose a title to the name of identity4 ,all the disputes concerning the identity of connected objects are merely verbal1 except so fax as the relation of parts gives rise to some fiction or imaginary principle of union1 as we have already observed4 ,what ,i have said concerning the first origin and uncertainty of our notion of identity1 as applied to the human mind1 may be extended with little or no variation to that of simplicity4 ,an object1 whose different co-existent parts are bound together by a close relation1 operates upon the imagination after much the same manner as one perfectly simple and indivisible and requires not a much greater stretch of thought in order to its conception4 ,from this similarity of operation we attribute a simplicity to it1 and feign a principle of union as the support of this simplicity1 and the center of all the different parts and qualities of the object4 ,thus we have finished our examination of the several systems of philosophy1 both of the intellectual and natural world2 and in our miscellaneous way of reasoning have been led into several topics2 which will either illustrate and confirm some preceding part of this discourse1 or prepare the way for our following opinions4 ,it is now time to return to a more close examination of our subject1 and to proceed in the accurate anatomy of human nature1 having fully explained the nature of our judgment and understandings4 ,,sect4 ,,vii4 ,,conclusion ,,of ,,this ,,book4 ,but before ,i launch out into those immense depths of philosophy1 which lie before me1 ,i find myself inclined to stop a moment in my present station1 and to ponder that voyage1 which ,i have undertaken1 and which undoubtedly requires the utmost art and industry to be brought to a happy conclusion4 ,methinks ,i am like a man1 who having struck on many shoals1 and having narrowly escaped shipwreck in passing a small frith1 has yet the temerity to put out to sea in the same leaky weather-beaten vessel1 and even carries his ambition so far as to think of compassing the globe under these disadvantageous circumstances4 ,my memory of past errors and perplexities1 makes me diffident for the future4 ,the wretched condition1 weakness1 and disorder of the faculties1 ,i must employ in my enquiries1 encrease my apprehensions4 ,and the impossibility of amending or correcting these faculties1 reduces me almost to despair1 and makes me resolve to perish on the barren rock1 on which ,i am at present1 rather than venture myself upon that boundless ocean1 which runs out into immensity4 ,this sudden view of my danger strikes me with melancholy2 and as it is usual for that passion1 above all others1 to indulge itself2 ,i cannot forbear feeding my despair1 with all those desponding reflections1 which the present subject furnishes me with in such abundance4 ,i am first affrighted and confounded with that forelorn solitude1 in which ,i am placed in my philosophy1 and fancy myself some strange uncouth monster1 who not being able to mingle and unite in society1 has been expelled all human commerce1 and left utterly abandoned and disconsolate4 ,fain would ,i run into the crowd for shelter and warmth2 but cannot prevail with myself to mix with such deformity4 ,i call upon others to join me1 in order to make a company apart2 but no one will hearken to me4 ,every one keeps at a distance1 and dreads that storm1 which beats upon me from every side4 ,i have exposed myself to the enmity of all metaphysicians1 logicians1 mathematicians1 and even theologians2 and can ,i wonder at the insults ,i must suffer8 ,i have declared my disapprobation of their systems2 and can ,i be surprized1 if they should express a hatred of mine and of my person8 ,when ,i look abroad1 ,i foresee on every side1 dispute1 contradiction1 anger1 calumny and detraction4 ,when ,i turn my eye inward1 ,i find nothing but doubt and ignorance4 ,all the world conspires to oppose and contradict me2 though such is my weakness1 that ,i feel all my opinions loosen and fall of themselves1 when unsupported by the approbation of others4 ,every step ,i take is with hesitation1 and every new reflection makes me dread an error and absurdity in my reasoning4 ,for with what confidence can ,i venture upon such bold enterprises1 when beside those numberless infirmities peculiar to myself1 ,i find so many which are common to human nature8 ,can ,i be sure1 that in leaving all established opinions ,i am following truth2 and by what criterion shall ,i distinguish her1 even if fortune should at last guide me on her foot-steps8 ,after the most accurate and exact of my reasonings1 ,i can give no reason why ,i should assent to it2 and feel nothing but a strong propensity to consider objects strongly in that view1 under which they appear to me4 ,experience is a principle1 which instructs me in the several conjunctions of objects for the past4 ,habit is another principle1 which determines me to expect the same for the future2 and both of them conspiring to operate upon the imagination1 make me form certain ideas in a more intense and lively manner1 than others1 which are not attended with the same advantages4 ,without this quality1 by which the mind enlivens some ideas beyond others 7which seemingly is so trivial1 and so little founded on reason7 we could never assent to any argument1 nor carry our view beyond those few objects1 which are present to our senses4 ,nay1 even to these objects we could never attribute any existence1 but what was dependent on the senses2 and must comprehend them entirely in that succession of perceptions1 which constitutes our self or person4 ,nay farther1 even with relation to that succession1 we could only admit of those perceptions1 which are immediately present to our consciousness1 nor could those lively images1 with which the memory presents us1 be ever received as true pictures of past perceptions4 ,the memory1 senses1 and understanding are1 therefore1 all of them founded on the imagination1 or the vivacity of our ideas4 ,no wonder a principle so inconstant and fallacious should lead us into errors1 when implicitly followed 7as it must be7 in all its variations4 ,it is this principle1 which makes us reason from causes and effects2 and it is the same principle1 which convinces us of the continued existence of external objects1 when absent from the senses4 ,but though these two operations be equally natural and necessary in the human mind1 yet in some circumstances they are#af directly contrary1 nor is it possible for us to reason justly and regularly from causes and effects1 and at the same time believe the continued existence of matter4 ,how then shall we adjust those principles together8 ,which of them shall we prefer8 ,or in case we prefer neither of them1 but successively assent to both1 as is usual among philosophers1 with what confidence can we afterwards usurp that glorious title1 when we thus knowingly embrace a manifest contradiction8 #af ,sect4 #d4 ,this contradiction#ag would be more excusable1 were it compensated by any degree of solidity and satisfaction in the other parts of our reasoning4 ,but the case is quite contrary4 ,when we trace up the human understanding to its first principles1 we find it to lead us into such sentiments1 as seem to turn into ridicule all our past pains and industry1 and to discourage us from future enquiries4 ,nothing is more curiously enquired after by the mind of man1 than the causes of every phenomenon2 nor are we content with knowing the immediate causes1 but push on our enquiries1 till we arrive at the original and ultimate principle4 ,we would not willingly stop before we are acquainted with that energy in the cause1 by which it operates on its effect2 that tie1 which connects them together2 and that efficacious quality1 on which the tie depends4 ,this is our aim in all our studies and reflections3 ,and how must we be disappointed1 when we learn1 that this connexion1 tie1 or energy lies merely in ourselves1 and is nothing but that determination of the mind1 which is acquired by custom1 and causes us to make a transition from an object to its usual attendant1 and from the impression of one to the lively idea of the other8 ,such a discovery not only cuts off all hope of ever attaining satisfaction1 but even prevents our very wishes2 since it appears1 that when we say we desire to know the ultimate and operating principle1 as something1 which resides in the external object1 we either contradict ourselves1 or talk without a meaning4 #ag ,part ,,iii4 ,sect4 #ad4 ,this deficiency in our ideas is not1 indeed1 perceived in common life1 nor are we sensible1 that in the most usual conjunctions of cause and effect we are as ignorant of the ultimate principle1 which binds them together1 as in the most unusual and extraordinary4 ,but this proceeds merely from an illusion of the imagination2 and the question is1 how far we ought to yield to these illusions4 ,this question is very difficult1 and reduces us to a very dangerous dilemma1 whichever way we answer it4 ,for if we assent to every trivial suggestion of the fancy2 beside that these suggestions are often contrary to each other2 they lead us into such errors1 absurdities1 and obscurities1 that we must at last become ashamed of our credulity4 ,nothing is more dangerous to reason than the flights of the imagination1 and nothing has been the occasion of more mistakes among philosophers4 ,men of bright fancies may in this respect be compared to those angels1 whom the scripture represents as covering their eyes with their wings4 ,this has already appeared in so many instances1 that we may spare ourselves the trouble of enlarging upon it any farther4 ,but on the other hand1 if the consideration of these instances makes us take a resolution to reject all the trivial suggestions of the fancy1 and adhere to the understanding1 that is1 to the general and more established properties of the imagination2 even this resolution1 if steadily executed1 would be dangerous1 and attended with the most fatal consequences4 ,for ,i have already shewn1#ah that the understanding1 when it acts alone1 and according to its most general principles1 entirely subverts itself1 and leaves not the lowest degree of evidence in any proposition1 either in philosophy or common life4 ,we save ourselves from this total scepticism only by means of that singular and seemingly trivial property of the fancy1 by which we enter with difficulty into remote views of things1 and are not able to accompany them with so sensible an impression1 as we do those1 which are more easy and natural4 ,shall we1 then1 establish it for a general maxim1 that no refined or elaborate reasoning is ever to be received8 ,consider well the consequences of such a principle4 ,by this means you cut off entirely all science and philosophy3 ,you proceed upon one singular quality of the imagination1 and by a parity of reason must embrace all of them3 ,and you expressly contradict yourself2 since this maxim must be built on the preceding reasoning1 which will be allowed to be sufficiently refined and metaphysical4 ,what party1 then1 shall we choose among these difficulties8 ,if we embrace this principle1 and condemn all refined reasoning1 we run into the most manifest absurdities4 ,if we reject it in favour of these reasonings1 we subvert entirely the human understanding4 ,we have1 therefore1 no choice left but betwixt a false reason and none at all4 ,for my part1 know not what ought to be done in the present case4 ,i can only observe what is commonly done2 which is1 that this difficulty is seldom or never thought of2 and even where it has once been present to the mind1 is quickly forgot1 and leaves but a small impression behind it4 ,very refined reflections have little or no influence upon us2 and yet we do not1 and cannot establish it for a rule1 that they ought not to have any influence2 which implies a manifest contradiction4 #ah ,sect4 #a4 ,but what have ,i here said1 that reflections very refined and metaphysical have little or no influence upon us8 ,this opinion ,i can scarce forbear retracting1 and condemning from my present feeling and experience4 ,the intense view of these manifold contradictions and imperfections in human reason has so wrought upon me1 and heated my brain1 that ,i am ready to reject all belief and reasoning1 and can look upon no opinion even as more probable or likely than another4 ,where am ,i1 or what8 ,from what causes do ,i derive my existence1 and to what condition shall ,i return8 ,whose favour shall ,i court1 and whose anger must ,i dread8 ,what beings surround me8 and on whom have1 ,i any influence1 or who have any influence on me8 ,i am confounded with all these questions1 and begin to fancy myself in the most deplorable condition imaginable1 invironed with the deepest darkness1 and utterly deprived of the use of every member and faculty4 ,most fortunately it happens1 that since reason is incapable of dispelling these clouds1 nature herself suffices to that purpose1 and cures me of this philosophical melancholy and delirium1 either by relaxing this bent of mind1 or by some avocation1 and lively impression of my senses1 which obliterate all these chimeras4 ,i dine1 ,i play a game of backgammon1 ,i converse1 and am merry with my friends2 and when after three or four hours' amusement1 ,i would return to these speculations1 they appear so cold1 and strained1 and ridiculous1 that ,i cannot find in my heart to enter into them any farther4 ,here then ,i find myself absolutely and necessarily determined to live1 and talk1 and act like other people in the common affairs of life4 ,but notwithstanding that my natural propensity1 and the course of my animal spirits and passions reduce me to this indolent belief in the general maxims of the world1 ,i still feel such remains of my former disposition1 that ,i am ready to throw all my books and papers into the fire1 and resolve never more to renounce the pleasures of life for the sake of reasoning and philosophy4 ,for those are my sentiments in that splenetic humour1 which governs me at present4 ,i may1 nay ,i must yield to the current of nature1 in submitting to my senses and understanding2 and in this blind submission ,i shew most perfectly my sceptical disposition and principles4 ,but does it follow1 that ,i must strive against the current of nature1 which leads me to indolence and pleasure2 that ,i must seclude myself1 in some measure1 from the commerce and society of men1 which is so agreeable2 and that ,i must torture my brains with subtilities and sophistries1 at the very time that ,i cannot satisfy myself concerning the reasonableness of so painful an application1 nor have any tolerable prospect of arriving by its means at truth and certainty4 ,under what obligation do ,i lie of making such an abuse of time8 ,and to what end can it serve either for the service of mankind1 or for my own private interest8 ,no3 ,if ,i must be a fool1 as all those who reason or believe any thing certainly are1 my follies shall at least be natural and agreeable4 ,where ,i strive against my inclination1 ,i shall have a good reason for my resistance2 and will no more be led a wandering into such dreary solitudes1 and rough passages1 as ,i have hitherto met with4 ,these are the sentiments of my spleen and indolence2 and indeed ,i must confess1 that philosophy has nothing to oppose to them1 and expects a victory more from the returns of a serious good-humoured disposition1 than from the force of reason and conviction4 ,in all the incidents of life we ought still to preserve our scepticism4 ,if we believe1 that fire warms1 or water refreshes1 it is only because it costs us too much pains to think otherwise4 ,nay if we are philosophers1 it ought only to be upon sceptical principles1 and from an inclination1 which we feel to the employing ourselves after that manner4 ,where reason is lively1 and mixes itself with some propensity1 it ought to be assented to4 ,where it does not1 it never can have any title to operate upon us4 ,at the time1 therefore1 that ,i am tired with amusement and company1 and have indulged a reverie in my chamber1 or in a solitary walk by a river-side1 ,i feel my mind all collected within itself1 and am naturally inclined to carry my view into all those subjects1 about which ,i have met with so many disputes in the course of my reading and conversation4 ,i cannot forbear having a curiosity to be acquainted with the principles of moral good and evil1 the nature and foundation of government1 and the cause of those several passions and inclinations1 which actuate and govern me4 ,i am uneasy to think ,i approve of one object1 and disapprove of another2 call one thing beautiful1 and another deformed2 decide concerning truth and falshood1 reason and folly1 without knowing upon what principles ,i proceed4 ,i am concerned for the condition of the learned world1 which lies under such a deplorable ignorance in all these particulars4 ,i feel an ambition to arise in me of contributing to the instruction of mankind1 and of acquiring a name by my inventions and discoveries4 ,these sentiments spring up naturally in my present disposition2 and should ,i endeavour to banish them1 by attaching myself to any other business or diversion1 ,i feel ,i should be a loser in point of pleasure2 and this is the origin of my philosophy4 ,but even suppose this curiosity and ambition should not transport me into speculations without the sphere of common life1 it would necessarily happen1 that from my very weakness ,i must be led into such enquiries4 ,it is certain1 that superstition is much more bold in its systems and hypotheses than philosophy2 and while the latter contents itself with assigning new causes and principles to the phaenomena1 which appear in the visible world1 the former opens a world of its own1 and presents us with scenes1 and beings1 and objects1 which are altogether new4 ,since therefore it is almost impossible for the mind of man to rest1 like those of beasts1 in that narrow circle of objects1 which are the subject of daily conversation and action1 we ought only to deliberate concerning the choice of our guide1 and ought to prefer that which is safest and most agreeable4 ,and in this respect ,i make bold to recommend philosophy1 and shall not scruple to give it the preference to superstition of every kind or denomination4 ,for as superstition arises naturally and easily from the popular opinions of mankind1 it seizes more strongly on the mind1 and is often able to disturb us in the conduct of our lives and actions4 ,philosophy on the contrary1 if just1 can present us only with mild and moderate sentiments2 and if false and extravagant1 its opinions are merely the objects of a cold and general speculation1 and seldom go so far as to interrupt the course of our natural propensities4 ,the ,,cynics are an extraordinary instance of philosophers1 who from reasonings purely philosophical ran into as great extravagancies of conduct as any ,monk or ,dervise that ever was in the world4 ,generally speaking1 the errors in religion are dangerous2 those in philosophy only ridiculous4 ,i am sensible1 that these two cases of the strength and weakness of the mind will not comprehend all mankind1 and that there are in ,england1 in particular1 many honest gentlemen1 who being always employed in their domestic affairs1 or amusing themselves in common recreations1 have carried their thoughts very little beyond those objects1 which are every day exposed to their senses4 ,and indeed1 of such as these ,i pretend not to make philosophers1 nor do ,i expect them either to be associates in these researches or auditors of these discoveries4 ,they do well to keep themselves in their present situation2 and instead of refining them into philosophers1 ,i wish we could communicate to our founders of systems1 a share of this gross earthy mixture1 as an ingredient1 which they commonly stand much in need of1 and which would serve to temper those fiery particles1 of which they are composed4 ,while a warm imagination is allowed to enter into philosophy1 and hypotheses embraced merely for being specious and agreeable1 we can never have any steady principles1 nor any sentiments1 which will suit with common practice and experience4 ,but were these hypotheses once removed1 we might hope to establish a system or set of opinions1 which if not true 7for that1 perhaps1 is too much to be hoped for7 might at least be satisfactory to the human mind1 and might stand the test of the most critical examination4 ,nor should we despair of attaining this end1 because of the many chimerical systems1 which have successively arisen and decayed away among men1 would we consider the shortness of that period1 wherein these questions have been the subjects of enquiry and reasoning4 ,two thousand years with such long interruptions1 and under such mighty discouragements are a small space of time to give any tolerable perfection to the sciences2 and perhaps we are still in too early an age of the world to discover any principles1 which will bear the examination of the latest posterity4 ,for my part1 my only hope is1 that ,i may contribute a little to the advancement of knowledge1 by giving in some particulars a different turn to the speculations of philosophers1 and pointing out to them more distinctly those subjects1 where alone they can expect assurance and conviction4 ,human ,nature is the only science of man2 and yet has been hitherto the most neglected4 ,it will be sufficient for me1 if ,i can bring it a little more into fashion2 and the hope of this serves to compose my temper from that spleen1 and invigorate it from that indolence1 which sometimes prevail upon me4 ,if the reader finds himself in the same easy disposition1 let him follow me in my future speculations4 ,if not1 let him follow his inclination1 and wait the returns of application and good humour4 ,the conduct of a man1 who studies philosophy in this careless manner1 is more truly sceptical than that of one1 who feeling in himself an inclination to it1 is yet so overwhelmed with doubts and scruples1 as totally to reject it4 ,a true sceptic will be diffident of his philosophical doubts1 as well as of his philosophical conviction2 and will never refuse any innocent satisfaction1 which offers itself1 upon account of either of them4 ,nor is it only proper we should in general indulge our inclination in the most elaborate philosophical researches1 notwithstanding our sceptical principles1 but also that we should yield to that propensity1 which inclines us to be positive and certain in particular points1 according to the light1 in which we survey them in any particular instant4 ,it is easier to forbear all examination and enquiry1 than to check ourselves in so natural a propensity1 and guard against that assurance1 which always arises from an exact and full survey of an object4 ,on such an occasion we are apt not only to forget our scepticism1 but even our modesty too2 and make use of such terms as these1 it is evident1 it is certain1 it is undeniable2 which a due deference to the public ought1 perhaps1 to prevent4 ,i may have fallen into this fault after the example of others2 but ,i here enter a caveat against any ,objections1 which may be offered on that head2 and declare that such expressions were extorted from me by the present view of the object1 and imply no dogmatical spirit1 nor conceited idea of my own judgment1 which are sentiments that ,i am sensible can become no body1 and a sceptic still less than any other4 ,,book ,,ii ,,of ,,the ,,passions ,,part ,i ,,of ,,pride ,,and ,,humility ,,sect4 ,i ,,division ,,of ,,the ,,subject ,as all the perceptions of the mind may be divided into impressions and ideas1 so the impressions admit of another division into original and secondary4 ,this division of the impressions is the same with that which#a ,i formerly made use of when ,i distinguished them into impressions of sensation and reflection4 ,original impressions or impressions of sensation are such as without any antecedent perception arise in the soul1 from the constitution of the body1 from the animal spirits1 or from the application of objects to the external organs4 ,secondary1 or reflective impressions are such as proceed from some of these original ones1 either immediately or by the interposition of its idea4 ,of the first kind are all the impressions of the senses1 and all bodily pains and pleasures3 ,of the second are the passions1 and other emotions resembling them4 #a ,book ,i4 ,part ,i4 ,sect4 #b4 ,it is certain1 that the mind1 in its perceptions1 must begin somewhere2 and that since the impressions precede their correspondent ideas1 there must be some impressions1 which without any introduction make their appearance in the soul4 ,as these depend upon natural and physical causes1 the examination of them would lead me too far from my present subject1 into the sciences of anatomy and natural philosophy4 ,for this reason ,i shall here confine myself to those other impressions1 which ,i have called secondary and reflective1 as arising either from the original impressions1 or from their ideas4 ,bodily pains and pleasures are the source of many passions1 both when felt and considered by the mind2 but arise originally in the soul1 or in the body1 whichever you please to call it1 without any preceding thought or perception4 ,a fit of the gout produces a long train of passions1 as grief1 hope1 fear2 but is not derived immediately from any affection or idea4 ,the reflective impressions may be divided into two kinds1 viz4 the calm and the ,,violent4 ,of the first kind is the sense of beauty and deformity in action1 composition1 and external objects4 ,of the second are the passions of love and hatred1 grief and joy1 pride and humility4 ,this division is far from being exact4 ,the raptures of poetry and music frequently rise to the greatest height2 while those other impressions1 properly called ,,passions1 may decay into so soft an emotion1 as to become1 in a manner1 imperceptible4 ,but as in general the passions are more violent than the emotions arising from beauty and deformity1 these impressions have been commonly distinguished from each other4 ,the subject of the human mind being so copious and various1 ,i shall here take advantage of this vulgar and spacious division1 that ,i may proceed with the greater order2 and having said all ,i thought necessary concerning our ideas1 shall now explain those violent emotions or passions1 their nature1 origin1 causes1 and effects4 ,when we take a survey of the passions1 there occurs a division of them into ,,direct and ,,indirect4 ,by direct passions ,i understand such as arise immediately from good or evil1 from pain or pleasure4 ,by indirect such as proceed from the same principles1 but by the conjunction of other qualities4 ,this distinction ,i cannot at present justify or explain any farther4 ,i can only observe in general1 that under the indirect passions ,i comprehend pride1 humility1 ambition1 vanity1 love1 hatred1 envy1 pity1 malice1 generosity1 with their dependants4 ,and under the direct passions1 desire1 aversion1 grief1 joy1 hope1 fear1 despair and security4 ,i shall begin with the former4 ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,of ,,pride ,,and ,,humility1 ,,their ,,objects ,,and ,,causes ,the passions of ,,pride and ,,humility being simple and uniform impressions1 it is impossible we can ever1 by a multitude of words1 give a just definition of them1 or indeed of any of the passions4 ,the utmost we can pretend to is a description of them1 by an enumeration of such circumstances1 as attend them3 ,but as these words1 ,,pride and humility1 are of general use1 and the impressions they represent the most common of any1 every one1 of himself1 will be able to form a just idea of them1 without any danger of mistake4 ,for which reason1 not to lose time upon preliminaries1 ,i shall immediately enter upon the examination of these passions4 ,it is evident1 that pride and humility1 though directly contrary1 have yet the same ,,object4 ,this object is self1 or that succession of related ideas and impressions1 of which we have an intimate memory and consciousness4 ,here the view always fixes when we are actuated by either of these passions4 ,according as our idea of ourself is more or less advantageous1 we feel either of those opposite affections1 and are elated by pride1 or dejected with humility4 ,whatever other objects may be comprehended by the mind1 they are always considered with a view to ourselves2 otherwise they would never be able either to excite these passions1 or produce the smallest encrease or diminution of them4 ,when self enters not into the consideration1 there is no room either for pride or humility4 ,but though that connected succession of perceptions1 which we call ,,self1 be always the object of these two passions1 it is impossible it can be their ,,cause1 or be sufficient alone to excite them4 ,for as these passions are directly contrary1 and have the same object in common2 were their object also their cause2 it could never produce any degree of the one passion1 but at the same time it must excite an equal degree of the other2 which opposition and contrariety must destroy both4 ,it is impossible a man can at the same time be both proud and humble2 and where he has different reasons for these passions1 as frequently happens1 the passions either take place alternately2 or if they encounter1 the one annihilates the other1 as far as its strength goes1 and the remainder only of that1 which is superior1 continues to operate upon the mind4 ,but in the present case neither of the passions could ever become superior2 because supposing it to be the view only of ourself1 which excited them1 that being perfectly indifferent to either1 must produce both in the very same proportion2 or in other words1 can produce neither4 ,to excite any passion1 and at the same time raise an equal share of its antagonist1 is immediately to undo what was done1 and must leave the mind at last perfectly calm and indifferent4 ,we must therefore1 make a distinction betwixt the cause and the object of these passions2 betwixt that idea1 which excites them1 and that to which they direct their view1 when excited4 ,pride and humility1 being once raised1 immediately turn our attention to ourself1 and regard that as their ultimate and final object2 but there is something farther requisite in order to raise them3 ,something1 which is peculiar to one of the passions1 and produces not both in the very same degree4 ,the first idea1 that is presented to the mind1 is that of the cause or productive principle4 ,this excites the passion1 connected with it2 and that passion1 when excited1 turns our view to another idea1 which is that of self4 ,here then is a passion placed betwixt two ideas1 of which the one produces it1 and the other is produced by it4 ,the first idea1 therefore1 represents the cause1 the second the object of the passion4 ,to begin with the causes of pride and humility2 we may observe1 that their most obvious and remarkable property is the vast variety of subjects1 on which they may be placed4 ,every valuable quality of the mind1 whether of the imagination1 judgment1 memory or disposition2 wit1 good-sense1 learning1 courage1 justice1 integrity2 all these are the cause of pride2 and their opposites of humility4 ,nor are these passions confined to the mind but extend their view to the body likewise4 ,a man may be proud of his beauty1 strength1 agility1 good mein1 address in dancing1 riding1 and of his dexterity in any manual business or manufacture4 ,but this is not all4 ,the passions looking farther1 comprehend whatever objects are in the least allyed or related to us4 ,our country1 family1 children1 relations1 riches1 houses1 gardens1 horses1 dogs1 cloaths2 any of these may become a cause either of pride or of humility4 ,from the consideration of these causes1 it appears necessary we shoud make a new distinction in the causes of the passion1 betwixt that ,,quality1 which operates1 and the subject1 on which it is placed4 ,a man1 for instance1 is vain of a beautiful house1 which belongs to him1 or which he has himself built and contrived4 ,here the object of the passion is himself1 and the cause is the beautiful house3 ,which cause again is sub-divided into two parts1 viz4 the quality1 which operates upon the passion1 and the subject in which the quality inheres4 ,the quality is the beauty1 and the subject is the house1 considered as his property or contrivance4 ,both these parts are essential1 nor is the distinction vain and chimerical4 ,beauty1 considered merely as such1 unless placed upon something related to us1 never produces any pride or vanity2 and the strongest relation alone1 without beauty1 or something else in its place1 has as little influence on that passion4 ,since1 therefore1 these two particulars are easily separated and there is a necessity for their conjunction1 in order to produce the passion1 we ought to consider them as component parts of the cause2 and infix in our minds an exact idea of this distinction4 ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,whence ,,these ,,objects ,,and ,,causes ,,are ,,derived ,being so far advanced as to observe a difference betwixt the object of the passions and their cause1 and to distinguish in the cause the quality1 which operates on the passions1 from the subject1 in which it inheres2 we now proceed to examine what determines each of them to be what it is1 and assigns such a particular object1 and quality1 and subject to these affections4 ,by this means we shall fully understand the origin of pride and humility4 ,it is evident in the first place1 that these passions are determined to have self for their object1 not only by a natural but also by an original property4 ,no one can doubt but this property is natural from the constancy and steadiness of its operations4 ,it is always self1 which is the object of pride and humility2 and whenever the passions look beyond1 it is still with a view to ourselves1 nor can any person or object otherwise have any influence upon us4 ,that this proceeds from an original quality or primary impulse1 will likewise appear evident1 if we consider that it is the distinguishing characteristic of these passions ,unless nature had given some original qualities to the mind1 it could never have any secondary ones2 because in that case it would have no foundation for action1 nor could ever begin to exert itself4 ,now these qualities1 which we must consider as original1 are such as are most inseparable from the soul1 and can be resolved into no other3 ,and such is the quality1 which determines the object of pride and humility4 ,we may1 perhaps1 make it a greater question1 whether the causes1 that produce the passion1 be as natural as the object1 to which it is directed1 and whether all that vast variety proceeds from caprice or from the constitution of the mind4 ,this doubt we shall soon remove1 if we cast our eye upon human nature1 and consider that in all nations and ages1 the same objects still give rise to pride and humility2 and that upon the view even of a stranger1 we can know pretty nearly1 what will either encrease or diminish his passions of this kind4 ,if there be any variation in this particular1 it proceeds from nothing but a difference in the tempers and complexions of men2 and is besides very inconsiderable4 ,can we imagine it possible1 that while human nature remains the same1 men will ever become entirely indifferent to their power1 riches1 beauty or personal merit1 and that their pride and vanity will not be affected by these advantages8 ,but though the causes of pride and humility be plainly natural1 we shall find upon examination1 that they are not original1 and that it is utterly impossible they should each of them be adapted to these passions by a particular provision1 and primary constitution of nature1 ,beside their prodigious number1 many of them are the effects of art1 and arise partly from the industry1 partly from the caprice1 and partly from the good fortune of men1 ,industry produces houses1 furniture1 cloaths4 ,caprice determines their particular kinds and qualities4 ,and good fortune frequently contributes to all this1 by discovering the effects that result from the different mixtures and combinations of bodies4 ,it is absurd1 therefore1 to imagine1 that each of these was foreseen and provided for by nature1 and that every new production of art1 which causes pride or humility2 instead of adapting itself to the passion by partaking of some general quality1 that naturally operates on the mind2 is itself the object of an original principle1 which till then lay concealed in the soul1 and is only by accident at last brought to light4 ,thus the first mechanic1 that invented a fine scritoire1 produced pride in him1 who became possest of it1 by principles different from those1 which made him proud of handsome chairs and tables4 ,as this appears evidently ridiculous1 we must conclude1 that each cause of pride and humility is not adapted to the passions by a distinct original quality2 but that there are some one or more circumstances common to all of them1 on which their efficacy depends4 ,besides1 we find in the course of nature1 that though the effects be many1 the principles1 from which they arise1 are commonly but few and simple1 and that it is the sign of an unskilful naturalist to have recourse to a different quality1 in order to explain every different operation4 ,how much more must this be true with regard to the human mind1 which being so confined a subject may justly be thought incapable of containing such a monstrous heap of principles1 as would be necessary to excite the passions of pride and humility1 were each distinct cause adapted to the passion by a distinct set of principles8 ,here1 therefore1 moral philosophy is in the same condition as natural1 with regard to astronomy before the time of ,,copernicus4 ,the antients1 though sensible of that maxim1 ,,that ,,nature ,,does ,,nothing ,,in ,,vain1 contrived such intricate systems of the heavens1 as seemed inconsistent with true philosophy1 and gave place at last to something more simple and natural4 ,to invent without scruple a new principle to every new phnomenon1 instead of adapting it to the old2 to overload our hypotheses with a variety of this kind2 are certain proofs1 that none of these principles is the just one1 and that we only desire1 by a number of falsehoods1 to cover our ignorance of the truth4 ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,the ,,relations ,,of ,,impressions ,,and ,,ideas ,thus we have established two truths without any obstacle or difficulty1 that ,,it ,,is ,,from ,,natural ,,principles ,,this ,,variety ,,of ,,causes ,,excites ,,pride ,,and ,,humility1 and that ,,it ,,is ,,not ,,by ,a ,,different ,,principle ,,each ,,different ,,cause ,,is ,,adapted ,,to ,,its ,,passion4 ,we shall now proceed to enquire how we may reduce these principles to a lesser number1 and find among the causes something common1 on which their influence depends4 ,in order to this we must reflect on certain properties of human nature1 which though they have a mighty influence on every operation both of the understanding and passions1 are not commonly much insisted on by philosophers4 ,the first of these is the association of ideas1 which ,i have so often observed and explained4 ,it is impossible for the mind to fix itself steadily upon one idea for any considerable time2 nor can it by its utmost efforts ever arrive at such a constancy4 ,but however changeable our thoughts may be1 they are not entirely without rule and method in their changes4 ,the rule1 by which they proceed1 is to pass from one object to what is resembling1 contiguous to1 or produced by it4 ,when one idea is present to the imagination1 any other1 united by these relations1 naturally follows it1 and enters with more facility by means of that introduction4 ,the second property ,i shall observe in the human mind is a like association of impressions4 ,all resembling impressions are connected together1 and no sooner one arises than the rest immediately follow4 ,grief and disappointment give rise to anger1 anger to envy1 envy to malice1 and malice to grief again1 till the whole circle be compleated4 ,in like manner our temper1 when elevated with joy1 naturally throws itself into love1 generosity1 pity1 courage1 pride1 and the other resembling affections4 ,it is difficult for the mind1 when actuated by any passion1 to confine itself to that passion alone1 without any change or variation4 ,human nature is too inconstant to admit of any such regularity4 ,changeableness is essential to it4 ,and to what can it so naturally change as to affections or emotions1 which are suitable to the temper1 and agree with that set of passions1 which then prevail8 ,it is evident1 then1 there is an attraction or association among impressions1 as well as among ideas2 though with this remarkable difference1 that ideas are associated by resemblance1 contiguity1 and causation2 and impressions only by resemblance4 ,in the ,,third place1 it is observable of these two kinds of association1 that they very much assist and forward each other1 and that the transition is more easily made where they both concur in the same object4 ,thus a man1 who1 by any injury from another1 is very much discomposed and ruffled in his temper1 is apt to find a hundred subjects of discontent1 impatience1 fear1 and other uneasy passions2 especially if he can discover these subjects in or near the person1 who was the cause of his first passion4 ,those principles1 which forward the transition of ideas1 here concur with those1 which operate on the passions2 and both uniting in one action1 bestow on the mind a double impulse4 ,the new passion1 therefore1 must arise with so much greater violence1 and the transition to it must be rendered so much more easy and natural4 ,upon this occasion ,i may cite the authority of an elegant writer1 who expresses himself in the following manner4 ,as the fancy delights in every thing that is great1 strange1 or beautiful1 and is still more pleased the more it finds of these perfections in the same object1 so it is capable of receiving a new satisfaction by the assistance of another sense4 ,thus any continued sound1 as the music of birds1 or a fall of waters1 awakens every moment the mind of the beholder1 and makes him more attentive to the several beauties of the place1 that lie before him4 ,thus if there arises a fragrancy of smells or perfumes1 they heighten the pleasure of the imagination1 and make even the colours and verdure of the landschape appear more agreeable2 for the ideas of both senses recommend each other1 and are pleasanter together than when they enter the mind separately3 ,as the different colours of a picture1 when they are well disposed1 set off one another1 and receive an additional beauty from the advantage of the situation4#b ,in this phnomenon we may remark the association both of impressions and ideas1 as well as the mutual assistance they lend each other4 #b ,addison1 ,,spectator #dab1 final paragraph4 ,,sect4 ,v ,,of ,,the ,,influence ,,of ,,these ,,relations ,,on ,,pride ,,and ,,humility ,these principles being established on unquestionable experience1 ,i begin to consider how we shall apply them1 by revolving over all the causes of pride and humility1 whether these causes be regarded1 as the qualities1 that operate1 or as the subjects1 on which the qualities are placed4 ,in examining these qualities ,i immediately find many of them to concur in producing the sensation of pain and pleasure1 independent of those affections1 which ,i here endeavour to explain4 ,thus the beauty of our person1 of itself1 and by its very appearance1 gives pleasure1 as well as pride2 and its deformity1 pain as well as humility4 ,a magnificent feast delights us1 and a sordid one displeases4 ,what ,i discover to be true in some instances1 ,i suppose to be so in all2 and take it for granted at present1 without any farther proof1 that every cause of pride1 by its peculiar qualities1 produces a separate pleasure1 and of humility a separate uneasiness4 ,again1 in considering the subjects1 to which these qualities adhere1 ,i make a new supposition1 which also appears probable from many obvious instances1 viz1 that these subjects are either parts of ourselves1 or something nearly related to us4 ,thus the good and bad qualities of our actions and manners constitute virtue and vice1 and determine our personal character1 than which nothing operates more strongly on these passions4 ,in like manner1 it is the beauty or deformity of our person1 houses1 equipage1 or furniture1 by which we are rendered either vain or humble4 ,the same qualities1 when transfered to subjects1 which bear us no relation1 influence not in the smallest degree either of these affections4 ,having thus in a manner supposed two properties of the causes of these affections1 viz1 that the qualities produce a separate pain or pleasure1 and that the subjects1 on which the qualities are placed1 are related to self2 ,i proceed to examine the passions themselves1 in order to find something in them1 correspondent to the supposed properties of their causes4 ,first1 ,i find1 that the peculiar object of pride and humility is determined by an original and natural instinct1 and that it is absolutely impossible1 from the primary constitution of the mind1 that these passions should ever look beyond self1 or that individual person4 of whose actions and sentiments each of us is intimately conscious4 ,here at last the view always rests1 when we are actuated by either of these passions2 nor can we1 in that situation of mind1 ever lose sight of this object4 ,for this ,i pretend not to give any reason2 but consider such a peculiar direction of the thought as an original quality4 ,the ,,second quality1 which ,i discover in these passions1 and which ,i likewise consider an an original quality1 is their sensations1 or the peculiar emotions they excite in the soul1 and which constitute their very being and essence4 ,thus pride is a pleasant sensation1 and humility a painful2 and upon the removal of the pleasure and pain1 there is in reality no pride nor humility4 ,of this our very feeling convinces us2 and beyond our feeling1 it is here in vain to reason or dispute4 ,if ,i compare1 therefore1 these two established properties of the passions1 viz1 their object1 which is self1 and their sensation1 which is either pleasant or painful1 to the two supposed properties of the causes1 viz1 their relation to self1 and their tendency to produce a pain or pleasure1 independent of the passion2 ,i immediately find1 that taking these suppositions to be just1 the true system breaks in upon me with an irresistible evidence4 ,that cause1 which excites the passion1 is related to the object1 which nature has attributed to the passion2 the sensation1 which the cause separately produces1 is related to the sensation of the passion3 ,from this double relation of ideas and impressions1 the passion is derived4 ,the one idea is easily converted into its correlative2 and the one impression into that1 which resembles and corresponds to it3 ,with how much greater facility must this transition be made1 where these movements mutually assist each other1 and the mind receives a double impulse from the relations both of its impressions and ideas8 ,that we may comprehend this the better1 we must suppose1 that nature has given to the organs of the human mind1 a certain disposition fitted to produce a peculiar impression or emotion1 which we call pride3 ,to this emotion she has assigned a certain idea1 viz1 that of self1 which it never fails to produce4 ,this contrivance of nature is easily conceived4 ,we have many instances of such a situation of affairs4 ,the nerves of the nose and palate are so disposed1 as in certain circumstances to convey such peculiar sensations to the mind3 ,the sensations of lust and hunger always produce in us the idea of those peculiar objects1 which are suitable to each appetite4 ,these two circumstances are united in pride4 ,the organs are so disposed as to produce the passion2 and the passion1 after its production1 naturally produces a certain idea4 ,all this needs no proof4 ,it is evident we never should be possest of that passion1 were there not a disposition of mind proper for it2 and it is as evident1 that the passion always turns our view to ourselves1 and makes us think of our own qualities and circumstances4 ,this being fully comprehended1 it may now be asked1 ,,whether ,,nature ,,produces ,,the ,,passion ,,immediately1 ,,of ,,herself2 ,,or ,,whether ,,she ,,must ,,be ,,assisted ,,by ,,the ,,co-,,operation ,,of ,,other ,,causes8 ,for it is observable1 that in this particular her conduct is different in the different passions and sensations4 ,the palate must be excited by an external object1 in order to produce any relish3 ,but hunger arises internally1 without the concurrence of any external object4 ,but however the case may stand with other passions and impressions1 it is certain1 that pride requires the assistance of some foreign object1 and that the organs1 which produce it1 exert not themselves like the heart and arteries1 by an original internal movement4 ,for first1 daily experience convinces us1 that pride requires certain causes to excite it1 and languishes when unsupported by some excellency in the character1 in bodily accomplishments1 in cloaths1 equipage or fortune4 ,,secondly1 it is evident pride would be perpetual1 if it arose immediately from nature2 since the object is always the same1 and there is no disposition of body peculiar to pride1 as there is to thirst and hunger4 ,thirdly1 ,humility is in the very same situation with pride2 and therefore1 either must1 upon this supposition1 be perpetual likewise1 or must destroy the contrary passion from1 the very first moment2 so that none of them could ever make its appearance4 ,upon the whole1 we may rest satisfyed with the foregoing conclusion1 that pride must have a cause1 as well as an object1 and that the one has no influence without the other4 ,the difficulty1 then1 is only to discover this cause1 and find what it is that gives the first motion to pride1 and sets those organs in action1 which are naturally fitted to produce that emotion4 ,upon my consulting experience1 in order to resolve this difficulty1 ,i immediately find a hundred different causes1 that produce pride2 and upon examining these causes1 ,i suppose1 what at first ,i perceive to be probable1 that all of them concur in two circumstances2 which are1 that of themselves they produce an impression1 allyed to the passion1 and are placed on a subject1 allyed to the object of the passion4 ,when ,i consider after this the nature of relation1 and its effects both on the passions and ideas1 ,i can no longer doubt1 upon these suppositions1 that it is the very principle1 which gives rise to pride1 and bestows motion on those organs1 which being naturally disposed to produce that affection1 require only a first impulse or beginning to their action4 ,any thing1 that gives a pleasant sensation1 and is related to self1 excites the passion of pride1 which is also agreeable1 and has self for its object4 ,what ,i have said of pride is equally true of humility4 ,the sensation of humility is uneasy1 as that of pride is agreeable2 for which reason the separate sensation1 arising from the causes1 must be reversed1 while the relation to self continues the same4 ,though pride and humility are directly contrary in their effects1 and in their sensations1 they have notwithstanding the same object2 so that it is requisite only to change the relation of impressions1 without making any change upon that of ideas4 ,accordingly we find1 that a beautiful house1 belonging to ourselves1 produces pride2 and that the same house1 still belonging to ourselves1 produces humility1 when by any accident its beauty is changed into deformity1 and thereby the sensation of pleasure1 which corresponded to pride1 is transformed into pain1 which is related to humility4 ,the double relation between the ideas and impressions subsists in both cases1 and produces an easy transition from the one emotion to the other4 ,in a word1 nature has bestowed a kind of attraction on certain impressions and ideas1 by which one of them1 upon its appearance1 naturally introduces its correlative4 ,if these two attractions or associations of impressions and ideas concur on the same object1 they mutually assist each other1 and the transition of the affections and of the imagination is made with the greatest ease and facility4 ,when an idea produces an impression1 related to an impression1 which is connected with an idea1 related to the first idea1 these two impressions must be in a manner inseparable1 nor will the one in any case be unattended with the other4 ,it is after this manner1 that the particular causes of pride and humility are determined4 ,the quality1 which operates on the passion1 produces separately an impression resembling it2 the subject1 to which the quality adheres1 is related to self1 the object of the passion3 ,no wonder the whole cause1 consisting of a quality and of a subject1 does so unavoidably give rise to the pass on4 ,to illustrate this hypothesis we may compare it to that1 by which ,i have already explained the belief attending the judgments1 which we form from causation4 ,i have observed1 that in all judgments of this kind1 there is always a present impression and a related idea2 and that the present impression gives a vivacity to the fancy1 and the relation conveys this vivacity1 by an easy transition1 to the related idea4 ,without the present impression1 the attention is not fixed1 nor the spirits excited4 ,without the relation1 this attention rests on its first object1 and has no farther consequence4 ,there is evidently a great analogy betwixt that hypothesis and our present one of an impression and idea1 that transfuse themselves into another impression and idea by means of their double relation3 ,which analogy must be allowed to be no despicable proof of both hypotheses4 ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,limitations ,,of ,,this ,,system ,but before we proceed farther in this subject1 and examine particularly all the causes of pride and humility1 it will be proper to make some limitations to the general system1 ,,that ,,all ,,agreeable ,,objects1 ,,related ,,to ,,ourselves1 ,,by ,,an ,,association ,,of ,,ideas ,,and ,,of ,,impressions1 ,,produce ,,pride1 ,,and ,,disagreeable ,,ones1 ,,humility3 ,and these limitations are derived from the very nature of the subject4 ,i4 ,suppose an agreeable object to acquire a relation to self1 the first passion1 that appears on this occasion1 is joy2 and this passion discovers itself upon a slighter relation than pride and vain-glory4 ,we may feel joy upon being present at a feast1 where our senses are regard with delicacies of every kind3 ,but it is only the master of the feast1 who1 beside the same joy1 has the additional passion of self-applause and vanity4 ,it is true1 men sometimes boast of a great entertainment1 at which they have only been present2 and by so small a relation convert their pleasure into pride3 ,but however1 this must in general be owned1 that joy arises from a more inconsiderable relation than vanity1 and that many things1 which are too foreign to produce pride1 are yet able to give us a delight and pleasure1 ,the reason of the difference may be explained thus4 ,a relation is requisite to joy1 in order to approach the object to us1 and make it give us any satisfaction4 ,but beside this1 which is common to both passions1 it is requisite to pride1 in order to produce a transition from one passion to another1 and convert the falsification into vanity4 ,as it has a double task to perform1 it must be endowed with double force and energy4 ,to which we may add1 that where agreeable objects bear not a very close relation to ourselves1 they commonly do to some other person2 and this latter relation not only excels1 but even diminishes1 and sometimes destroys the former1 as we shall see afterwards4#c #c ,part ,,ii4 ,sec4 #d4 ,here then is the first limitation1 we must make to our general position1 that every thing related to us1 which produces pleasure or pain1 produces likewise pride or humility4 ,there is not only a relation required1 but a close one1 and a closer than is required to joy4 ,,ii4 ,the second limitation is1 that the agreeable or disagreeable object be not only closely related1 but also peculiar to ourselves1 or at least common to us with a few persons4 ,it is a quality observable in human nature1 and which we shall endeavour to explain afterwards1 that every thing1 which is often presented and to which we have been long accustomed1 loses its value in our eyes1 and is in a little time despised and neglected4 ,we likewise judge of objects more from comparison than from their real and intrinsic merit2 and where we cannot by some contrast enhance their value1 we are apt to overlook even what is essentially good in them4 ,these qualities of the mind have an effect upon joy as well as pride2 and it is remarkable1 that goods which are common to all mankind1 and have become familiar to us by custom1 give us little satisfaction2 though perhaps of a more excellent kind1 than those on which1 for their singularity1 we set a much higher value4 ,but though this circumstance operates on both these passions1 it has a much greater influence on vanity4 ,we are rejoiced for many goods1 which1 on account of their frequency1 give us no pride4 ,health1 when it returns after a long absence1 affords us a very sensible satisfaction2 but is seldom regarded as a subject of vanity1 because it is shared with such vast numbers4 ,the reason1 why pride is so much more delicate in this particular than joy1 ,i take to be1 as follows4 ,in order to excite pride1 there are always two objects we must contemplate1 viz4 the cause or that object which produces pleasure2 and self1 which is the real object of the passion4 ,but joy has only one object necessary to its production1 viz4 that which gives pleasure2 and though it be requisite1 that this bear some relation to self1 yet that is only requisite in order to render it agreeable2 nor is self1 properly speaking1 the object of this passion4 ,since1 therefore1 pride has in a manner two objects1 to which it directs our view2 it follows1 that where neither of them have any singularity1 the passion must be more weakened upon that account1 than a passion1 which has only one object4 ,upon comparing ourselves with others1 as we are every moment apt to do1 we find we are not in the least distinguished2 and upon comparing the object we possess1 we discover still the same unlucky circumstance4 ,by two comparisons so disadvantageous the passion must be entirely destroyed4 ,,iii ,the third limitation is1 that the pleasant or painful object be very discernible and obvious1 and that not only to ourselves1 but to others also4 ,this circumstance1 like the two foregoing1 has an effect upon joy1 as well as pride4 ,we fancy ,ourselves more happy1 as well as more virtuous or beautiful1 when we appear so to others2 but are still more ostentatious of our virtues than of our pleasures4 ,this proceeds from causes1 which ,i shall endeavour to explain afterwards4 ,,iv4 ,the fourth limitation is derived from the inconstancy of the cause of these passions1 and from the short duration of its connexion with ourselves4 ,what is casual and inconstant gives but little joy1 and less pride4 ,we are not much satisfyed with the thing itself2 and are still less apt to feel any new degrees of self-satisfaction upon its account4 ,we foresee and anticipate its change by the imagination2 which makes us little satisfyed with the thing3 ,we compare it to ourselves1 whose existence is more durable2 by which means its inconstancy appears still greater4 ,it seems ridiculous to infer an excellency in ourselves from an object1 which is of so much shorter duration1 and attends us during so small a part of our existence4 ,it will be easy to comprehend the reason1 why this cause operates not with the same force in joy as in pride2 since the idea of self is not so essential to the former passion as to the latter4 ,v4 ,i may add as a fifth limitation1 or rather enlargement of this system1 that general rules have a great influence upon pride and humility1 as well as on all the other passions4 ,hence we form a notion of different ranks of men1 suitable to the power of riches they are possest of2 and this notion we change not upon account of any peculiarities of the health or temper of the persons1 which may deprive them of all enjoyment in their possessions4 ,this may be accounted for from the same principles1 that explained the influence of general rules on the understanding4 ,custom readily carries us beyond the just bounds in our passions1 as well as in our reasonings4 ,it may not be amiss to observe on this occasion1 that the influence of general rules and maxims on the passions very much contributes to facilitate the effects of all the principles1 which we shall explain in the progress of this treatise4 ,for it is evident1 that if a person full-grown1 and of the same nature with ourselves1 were on a sudden-transported into our world1 he would be very much embarrased with every object1 and would not readily find what degree of love or hatred1 pride or humility1 or any other passion he ought to attribute to it4 ,the passions are often varyed by very inconsiderable principles2 and these do not always play with a perfect regularity1 especially on the first trial4 ,but as custom and practice have brought to light all these principles1 and have settled the just value of every thing2 this must certainly contribute to the easy production of the passions1 and guide us1 by means of general established maxims1 in the proportions we ought to observe in preferring one object to another4 ,this remark may1 perhaps1 serve to obviate difficulties1 that mayarise concerning some causes1 which ,i shall hereafter ascribe to particular passions1 and which may be esteemed too refined to operate so universally and certainly1 as they are found to do4 ,i shall close this subject with a reflection derived from these five limitations4 ,this reflection is1 that the persons1 who are proudest1 and who in the eye of the world have most reason for their pride1 are not always the happiest2 nor the most humble always the most miserable1 as may at first sight be imagined from this system4 ,an evil may be real4 though its cause has no relation to us3 ,it may be real1 without being peculiar3 ,it may be real1 without shewing itself to others3 ,it may be real1 without being constant3 ,and it may be real1 without falling under the general rules4 ,such evils as these will not fail to render us miserable1 though they have little tendency to diminish pride3 ,and perhaps the most real and the most solid evils of life will be found of this nature4 ,,sect4 ,,vii ,,of ,,vice ,,and ,,virtue ,taking these limitations along with us1 let us proceed to examine the causes of pride and humility2 and see1 whether in every case we can discover the double relations1 by which they operate on the passions4 ,if we find that all these causes are related to self1 and produce a pleasure or uneasiness separate from the passion1 there will remain no farther scruple with regard to the present system4 ,we shall principally endeavour to prove the latter point2 the former being in a manner self-evident4 ,to begin1 with vice and virtue2 which are the most obvious causes of these passions2 it would be entirely foreign to my present purpose to enter upon the controversy1 which of late years has so much excited the curiosity of the publick4 ,,whether ,,these ,,moral ,,distinctions ,,be ,,founded ,,on ,,natural ,,and ,,original ,,principles1 ,,or ,,arise ,,from ,,interest ,,and ,,education4 ,the examination of this ,i reserve for the following book2 and in the mean time ,i shall endeavour to show1 that my system maintains its ground upon either of these hypotheses2 which will be a strong proof of its solidity4 ,for granting that morality had no foundation in nature1 it must still be allowed1 that vice and virtue1 either from self-interest or the prejudices of education1 produce in us a real pain and pleasure2 and this we may observe to be strenuously asserted by the defenders of that hypothesis4 ,every passion1 habit1 or turn of character 7say they7 which has a tendency to our advantage or prejudice1 gives a delight or uneasiness2 and it is from thence the approbation or disapprobation arises4 ,we easily gain from the liberality of others1 but are always in danger of losing by their avarice3 ,courage defends us1 but cowardice lays us open to every attack3 ,justice is the support of society1 but injustice1 unless checked would quickly prove its ruin3 ,humility exalts2 but pride mortifies us4 ,for these reasons the former qualities are esteemed virtues1 and the latter regarded as vices4 ,now since it is granted there is a delight or uneasiness still attending merit or demerit of every kind1 this is all that is requisite for my purpose4 ,but ,i go farther1 and observe1 that this moral hypothesis and my present system not only agree together1 but also that1 allowing the former to be just1 it is an absolute and invincible proof of the latter4 ,for if all morality be founded on the pain or pleasure1 which arises from the prospect of any loss or advantage1 that may result from our own characters1 or from those of others1 all the effects of morality must-be derived from the same pain or pleasure1 and among the rest1 the passions of pride and humility4 ,the very essence of virtue1 according to this hypothesis1 is to produce pleasure and that of vice to give pain4 ,the virtue and vice must be part of our character in order to excite pride or humility4 ,what farther proof can we desire for the double relation of impressions and ideas8 ,the same unquestionable argument may be derived from the opinion of those1 who maintain that morality is something real1 essential1 and founded on nature4 ,the most probable hypothesis1 which has been advanced to explain the distinction betwixt vice and virtue1 and the origin of moral rights and obligations1 is1 that from a primary constitution of nature certain characters and passions1 by the very view and contemplation1 produce a pain1 and others in like manner excite a pleasure4 ,the uneasiness and satisfaction are not only inseparable from vice and virtue1 but constitute their very nature and essence4 ,to approve of a character is to feel an original delight upon its appearance4 ,to disapprove of it is to be sensible of an uneasiness4 ,the pain and pleasure1 therefore1 being the primary causes of vice and virtue1 must also be the causes of all their effects1 and consequently of pride and humility1 which are the unavoidable attendants of that distinction4 ,but supposing this hypothesis of moral philosophy should be allowed to be false1 it is still evident1 that pain and pleasure1 if not the causes of vice and virtue1 are at least inseparable from them4 ,a generous and noble character affords a satisfaction even in the survey2 and when presented to us1 though only in a poem or fable1 never fails to charm and delight us4 ,on the other hand cruelty and treachery displease from their very nature2 nor is it possible ever to reconcile us to these qualities1 either in ourselves or others4 ,thus one hypothesis of morality is an undeniable proof of the foregoing system1 and the other at worst agrees with it4 ,but pride and humility arise not from these qualities alone of the mind1 which1 according to the vulgar systems of ethicks1 have been comprehended as parts of moral duty1 but from any other that has a connexion with pleasure and uneasiness4 ,nothing flatters our vanity more than the talent of pleasing by our wit1 good humour1 or any other accomplishment2 and nothing gives us a more sensible mortification than a disappointment in any attempt of that nature4 ,no one has ever been able to tell what wit is1 and to-shew why such a system of thought must be received under that denomination1 and such another rejected4 ,it is only by taste we can decide concerning it1 nor are we possest of any other standard1 upon which we can form a judgment of this kind4 ,now what is this taste1 from which true and false wit in a manner receive their being1 and without which no thought can have a title to either of these denominations8 ,it is plainly nothing but a sensation of pleasure from true wit1 and of uneasiness from false1 without oar being able to tell the reasons of that pleasure or uneasiness4 ,the power of bestowing these opposite sensations is1 therefore1 the very essence of true and false wit2 and consequently the cause of that pride or humility1 which arises from them4 ,there may1 perhaps1 be some1 who being accustomed to the style of the schools and pulpit1 and having never considered human nature in any other light1 than that in which they place it1 may here be surprized to hear me talk of virtue as exciting pride1 which they look upon as a vice2 and of vice as producing humility1 which they have been taught to consider as a virtue4 ,but not to dispute about words1 ,i observe1 that by pride ,i understand that agreeable impression1 which arises in the mind1 when the view either of our virtue1 beauty1 riches or power makes us satisfyed with ourselves3 and that by humility ,i mean the opposite impression4 ,it is evident the former impression is not always vicious1 nor the latter virtuous4 ,the most rigid morality allows us to receive a pleasure from reflecting on a generous action2 and it is by none esteemed a virtue to feel any fruitless remorses upon the thoughts of past villainy and baseness4 ,let us1 therefore1 examine these impressions1 considered in themselves2 and enquire into their causes1 whether placed on the mind or body1 without troubling ourselves at present with that merit or blame1 which may attend them4 ,,sect4 ,,viii ,,of ,,beauty ,,and ,,deformity ,whether we consider the body as a part of ourselves1 or assent to those philosophers1 who regard it as something external1 it must still be allowed to be near enough connected with us to form one of these double relations1 which ,i have asserted to be necessary to the causes of pride and humility4 ,wherever1 therefore1 we can find the other relation of impressions to join to this of ideas1 we may expect with assurance either of these passions1 according as the impression is pleasant or uneasy4 ,but beauty of all kinds gives us a peculiar delight and satisfaction2 as deformity produces pain1 upon whatever subject it may be placed1 and whether surveyed in an animate or inanimate object4 ,if the beauty or deformity1 therefore1 be placed upon our own bodies1 this pleasure or uneasiness must be converted into pride or humility1 as having in this case all the circumstances requisite to produce a perfect transition of impressions and ideas4 ,these opposite sensations are related to the opposite passions4 ,the beauty or deformity is closely related to self1 the object of both these passions4 ,no wonder1 then our own beauty becomes an object of pride1 and deformity of humility4 ,but this effect of personal and bodily qualities is not only a proof of the present system1 by shewing that the passions arise not in this case without all the circumstances ,i have required1 but may be employed as a stronger and more convincing argument4 ,if we consider all the hypotheses1 which have been formed either by philosophy or common reason1 to explain the difference betwixt beauty and deformity1 we shall find that all of them resolve into this1 that beauty is such an order and construction of parts1 as either by the primary constitution of our nature1 by custom1 or by caprice1 is fitted to give a pleasure and satisfaction to the soul4 ,this is the distinguishing character of beauty1 and forms all the difference betwixt it and deformity1 whose natural tendency is to produce uneasiness4 ,pleasure and pain1 therefore1 are not only necessary attendants of beauty and deformity1 but constitute their very essence4 ,and indeed1 if we consider1 that a great part of the beauty1 which we admire either in animals or in other objects1 is derived from the idea of convenience and utility1 we shall make no scruple to assent to this opinion4 ,that shape1 which produces strength1 is beautiful in one animal2 and that which is a sign of agility in another4 ,the order and convenience of a palace are no less essential to its beauty1 than its mere figure and appearance4 ,in like manner the rules of architecture require1 that the top of a pillar should be more slender than its base1 and that because such a figure conveys to us the idea of security1 which is pleasant2 whereas the contrary form gives us the apprehension of danger1 which is uneasy4 ,from innumerable instances of this kind1 as well as from considering that beauty like wit1 cannot be defined1 but is discerned only by a taste or sensation1 we may conclude1 that beauty is nothing but a form1 which produces pleasure1 as deformity is a structure of parts1 which conveys pain2 and since the power of producing pain and pleasure make in this manner the essence of beauty and deformity1 all the effects of these qualities must be derived from the sensation2 and among the rest pride and humility1 which of all their effects are the most common and remarkable4 ,this argument ,i esteem just and decisive2 but in order to give greater authority to the present reasoning1 let us suppose it false for a moment1 and see what will follow4 ,it is certain1 then1 that if the power of producing pleasure and pain forms not the essence of beauty and deformity1 the sensations are at least inseparable from the qualities1 and it is even difficult to consider them apart4 ,now there is nothing common to natural and moral beauty1 7both of which are the causes of pride7 but this power of producing pleasure2 and as a common effect supposes always a common cause1 it is plain the pleasure must in both cases be the real and influencing cause of the passion4 ,again2 there is nothing originally different betwixt the beauty of our bodies and the beauty of external and foreign objects1 but that the one has a near relation to ourselves1 which is wanting in the other4 ,this original difference1 therefore1 must be the cause of all their other differences1 and among the rest1 of their different influence upon the passion of pride1 which is excited by the beauty of our person1 but is not affected in the least by that of foreign and external objects4 ,placing1 then1 these two conclusions together1 we find they compose the preceding system betwixt them1 viz1 that pleasure1 as a related or resembling impression1 when placed on a related object by a natural transition1 produces pride2 and its contrary1 humility4 ,this system1 then1 seems already sufficiently confirmed by experience2 that we have not yet exhausted all our arguments4 ,it is not the beauty of the body alone that produces pride1 but also its strength and force4 ,strength is a kind of power2 and therefore the desire to excel in strength is to be considered as an inferior species of ambition4 ,for this reason the present phnomenon will be sufficiently accounted for1 in explaining that passion4 ,concerning all other bodily accomplishments we may observe in general1 that whatever in ourselves is either useful1 beautiful1 or surprising1 is an object of pride2 and it's contrary1 of humility4 ,now it is obvious1 that every thing useful1 beautiful or surprising1 agrees in producing a separate pleasure and agrees in nothing else4 ,the pleasure1 therefore1 with the relation to self must be the cause of the passion4 ,though it should be questioned1 whether beauty be not something real1 and different from the power of producing pleasure1 it can never be disputed1 that as surprize is nothing but a pleasure arising from novelty1 it is not1 properly speaking1 a quality in any object1 but merely a passion or impression in the soul4 ,it must1 therefore1 be from that impression1 that pride by a natural transition arises4 ,and it arises so naturally1 that there is nothing in us or belonging to us1 which produces surprize1 that does not at the same time excite that other passion4 ,thus we are vain of the surprising adventures we have met with1 the escapes we have made1 and dangers we have been exposed to4 ,hence the origin of vulgar lying2 where men without any interest1 and merely out of vanity1 heap up a number of extraordinary events1 which are either the fictions of their brain1 or if true1 have at least no connexion with themselves4 ,their fruitful invention supplies them with a variety of adventures2 and where that talent is wanting1 they appropriate such as belong to others1 in order to satisfy their vanity4 ,in this phnomenon are contained two curious experiments1 which if we compare them together1 according to the known rules1 by which we judge of cause and effect in anatomy1 natural philosophy1 and other sciences1 will be an undeniable argument for that influence of the double relations above-mentioned4 ,by one of these experiments we find1 that an object produces pride merely by the interposition of pleasure2 and that because the quality1 by which it produces pride1 is in reality nothing but the power of producing pleasure4 ,by the other experiment we find1 that the pleasure produces the pride by a transition along related ideas2 because when we cut off that relation the passion is immediately destroyed44 ,a surprising adventure1 in which we have been ourselves engaged1 is related to us1 and by that means produces pride3 ,but the adventures of others1 though they may cause pleasure1 yet for want of this relation of ideas1 never excite that passion4 ,what farther proof can be desired for the present system8 ,there is only one objection to this system with regard to our body3 which is1 that though nothing be more agreeable than health1 and more painful than sickness1 yet commonly men are neither proud of the one1 nor mortifyed with the other4 ,this will easily be accounted for1 if we consider the second and fourth limitations1 proposed to our general system4 ,it was observed1 that no object ever produces pride or humility1 if it has not something peculiar to ourself2 as also1 that every cause of that passion must be in some measure constant1 and hold some proportion to the duration of our self1 which1 is its object4 ,now as health and sickness vary incessantly to all men1 and there is none1 who is solely or certainly fixed in either1 these accidental blessings and calamities are in a manner separated from us1 and are never considered as connected with our being and existence4 ,and that this account is just appears hence1 that wherever a malady of any kind is so rooted in our constitution1 that we no longer entertain any hopes of recovery1 from that moment it becomes an object of humility2 as is evident in old men1 whom nothing mortifies more than the consideration of their age and infirmities4 ,they endeavour1 as long as possible1 to conceal their blindness and deafness1 their rheums and gouts2 nor do they ever confess them without reluctance and uneasiness4 ,and though young men are not ashamed of every head-ach or cold they fall into1 yet no topic is so proper to mortify human pride1 and make us entertain a mean opinion of our nature1 than this1 that we are every moment of our lives subject to such infirmities4 ,this sufficiently proves that bodily pain and sickness are in themselves proper causes of humility2 though the custom of estimating every thing by comparison more than by its intrinsic worth and value1 makes us overlook these calamities1 which we find to be incident to every one1 and causes us to form an idea of our merit and character independent of them4 ,we are ashamed of such maladies as affect others1 and are either dangerous or disagreeable to them4 ,of the epilepsy2 because it gives a horror to every one present3 ,of the itch2 because it is infectious3 ,of the king's-evil2 because it commonly goes to posterity4 ,men always consider the sentiments of others in their judgment of themselves4 ,this has evidently appeared in some of the foregoing reasonings2 and will appear still more evidently1 and be more fully explained afterwards4 ,,sect4 ,,ix ,,of ,,external ,,advantages ,,and ,,disadvantages ,but though pride and humility have the qualities of our mind and body that is self1 for their natural and more immediate causes1 we find by experience1 that there are many other objects1 which produce these affections1 and that the primary one is1 in some measure1 obscured and lost by the multiplicity of foreign and extrinsic4 ,we found a vanity upon houses1 gardens1 equipages1 as well as upon personal merit and accomplishments2 and though these external advantages be in themselves widely distant from thought or a person1 yet they considerably influence even a passion1 which is directed to that as its ultimate object4 ,this happens when external objects acquire any particular relation to ourselves1 and are associated or connected with us4 ,a beautiful fish in the ocean1 an animal in a desert1 and indeed any thing that neither belongs1 nor is related to us1 has no manner of influence on our vanity1 whatever extraordinary qualities it may be endowed with1 and whatever degree of surprize and admiration it may naturally occasion4 ,it must be some way associated with us in order to touch our pride4 ,its idea must hang in a manner1 upon that of ourselves and the transition from the one to the other must be easy and natural4 ,but here it is remarkable1 that though the relation of resemblance operates upon the mind in the same manner as contiguity and causation1 in conveying us from one idea to another1 yet it is seldom a foundation either of pride or of humility4 ,if we resemble a person in any of the valuable parts of his character1 we must1 in some degree1 possess the quality1 in which we resemble him2 and this quality we always chuse to survey directly in ourselves rather than by reflexion in another person1 when we would found upon it any degree of vanity4 ,so that though a likeness may occasionally produce that passion by suggesting a more advantageous idea of ourselves1 it is there the view fixes at last1 and the passion finds its ultimate and final cause4 ,there are instances1 indeed1 wherein men shew a vanity in resembling a great man in his countenance1 shape1 air1 or other minute circumstances1 that contribute not in any degree to his reputation2 but it must be confessed that this extends not very far1 nor is of any considerable moment in these affections4 ,for this ,i assign the following reason4 ,we can never have a vanity of resembling in trifles any person1 unless he be possessed of very shining qualities1 which give us a respect and veneration for him4 ,these qualities1 then1 are1 properly speaking1 the causes of our vanity1 by means of their relation to ourselves4 ,now after what manner are they related to ourselves8 ,they are parts of the person we value1 and consequently connected with these trifles2 which are also supposed to be parts of him4 ,these trifles are connected with the resembling qualities in us2 and these qualities in us1 being parts1 are connected with the whole2 and by that means form a chain of several links of the person we resemble4 ,but besides that this multitude of relations must weaken the connexion2 it is evident the mind1 in passing from the shining qualities to the trivial ones1 must by that contrast the better perceive the minuteness of the latter1 and be in some measure ashamed of the comparison and resemblance4 ,the relation1 therefore1 of contiguity1 or that of causation1 betwixt the cause and object of pride and humility1 is alone requisite to give rise to these passions2 and these relations are nothing else but qualities1 by which the imagination is conveyed from one idea to another4 ,now let us consider what effect these can possibly have upon the mind1 and by what means they become so requisite to the production of the passions4 ,it is evident1 that the association of ideas operates in so silent and imperceptible a manner1 that we are scarce sensible of it1 and discover it more by its effects than by any immediate feeling or perception4 ,it produces no emotion1 and gives rise to no new impression of any kind1 but only modifies those ideas1 of which the mind was formerly possessed1 and which it could recal upon occasion4 ,from this reasoning1 as well as from undoubted experience1 we may conclude1 that an association of ideas1 however necessary1 is not alone sufficient to give rise to any passion4 ,it is evident1 then1 that when the mind feels the passion either of pride or humility upon the appearance of related object1 there is1 beside the relation or transition of thought1 an emotion or original impression produced by some other principle4 ,the question is1 whether the emotion first produced be the passion itself1 or some other impression related to it4 ,this question we cannot be long in deciding1 ,for besides all the other arguments1 with which this subject abounds1 it must evidently appear1 that the relation of ideas1 which experience shews to be so requisite a circumstance to the production of the passion1 would be entirely superfluous1 were it not to second a relation of affections1 and facilitate the transition from one impression to another4 ,if nature produced immediately the passion of pride or humility1 it would be compleated in itself1 and would require no farther addition or encrease from any other affection4 ,but supposing the first emotion to be only related to pride or humility1 it is easily conceived to what purpose the relation of objects may serve1 and how the two different associations1 of impressions and ideas1 by uniting their forces1 may assist each other's operation4 ,this is not only easily conceived1 but ,i will venture to affirm it is the only manner1 in which we can conceive this subject4 ,an easy transition of ideas1 which1 of itself1 causes no emotion1 can never be necessary1 or even useful to the passions1 but by forwarding the transition betwixt some related impressions4 ,not to mention1 that the same object causes a greater or smaller degree of pride1 not only in proportion to the encrease or decrease of its qualities1 but also to the distance or nearness of the relation2 which is a clear argument for the transition of affections along the relation of ideas2 since every change in the relation produces a proportionable change in the passion4 ,thus one part of the preceding system1 concerning the relations of ideas is a sufficient proof of the other1 concerning that of impressions2 and is itself so evidently founded on experience1 that it would be lost time to endeavour farther to prove it4 ,this will appear still more evidently in particular instances4 ,men are vain of the beauty of their country1 of their county1 of their parish4 ,here the idea of beauty plainly produces a pleasure4 ,this pleasure is related to pride4 ,the object or cause of this pleasure is1 by the supposition1 related to self1 or the object of pride4 ,by this double relation of impressions and ideas1 a transition is made from the one impression to the other4 ,men are also vain of the temperature of the climate1 in which they were born2 of the fertility of their native soil2 of the goodness of the wines1 fruits or victuals1 produced by it2 of the softness or force of their language2 with other particulars of that kind4 ,these objects have plainly a reference to the pleasures of the senses1 and are originally considered as agreeable to the feeling1 taste or hearing4 ,how is it possible they could ever become objects of pride1 except by means of that transition above-explained8 ,there are some1 that discover a vanity of an opposite kind1 and affect to depreciate their own country1 in comparison of those1 to which they have travelled4 ,these persons find1 when they are at home1 and surrounded with their countrymen1 that the strong relation betwixt them and their own nation is shared with so many1 that it is in a manner lost to them2 whereas their distant relation to a foreign country1 which is formed by their having seen it and lived in it1 is augmented by their considering how few there are who have done the same4 ,for this reason they always admire the beauty1 utility and rarity of what is abroad1 above what is at home4 ,since we can be vain of a country1 climate or any inanimate object1 which bears a relation to us1 it is no wonder we are vain of the qualities of those1 who are connected with us by blood or friendship4 ,accordingly we find1 that the very same qualities1 which in ourselves produce pride1 produce also in a lesser degree the same affection1 when discovered in persons related to us4 ,the beauty1 address1 merit1 credit and honours of their kindred are carefully displayed by the proud1 as some of their most considerable sources of their vanity4 ,as we are proud of riches in ourselves1 so to satisfy our vanity we desire that every one1 who has any connexion with us1 should likewise be possest of them1 and are ashamed of any one1 that is mean or poor1 among our friends and relations4 ,for this reason we remove the poor as far from us as possible2 and as we cannot prevent poverty in some distant collaterals1 and our forefathers are taken to be our nearest relations2 upon this account every one affects to be of a good family1 and to be descended from a long succession of rich and honourable ancestors4 ,i have frequently observed1 that those1 who boast of the antiquity of their families1 are glad when they can join this circumstance1 that their ancestors for many generations have been uninterrupted proprietors of the same portion of land1 and that their family has never changed its possessions1 or been transplanted into any other county or province4 ,i have also observed1 that it is an additional subject of vanity1 when they can boast1 that these possessions have been transmitted through a descent composed entirely of males1 and that the honour1 and fortune have never past through any female4 ,let us endeavour to explain these phaenomena by the foregoing system4 ,it is evident1 that when any one boasts of the antiquity of his family1 the subjects of his vanity are not merely the extent of time and number of ancestors1 but also their riches and credit1 which are supposed to reflect a lustre on himself on account of his relation to them4 ,he first considers these objects2 is affected by them in an agreeable manner2 and then returning back to himself1 through the relation of parent and child1 is elevated with the passion of pride1 by means of the double relation1 of impressions and ideas4 ,since therefore the passion depends on these relations1 whatever strengthens any of the relations must also encrease the passion1 and whatever weakens the relations must diminish the passion4 ,now it is certain the identity of the possesion strengthens the relation of ideas arising from blood and kindred1 and conveys the fancy with greater facility from one generation to another1 from the remote ancestors to their posterity1 who are both their heirs and their descendants4 ,by this facility the impression is transmitted more entire1 and excites a greater degree of pride and vanity4 ,the case is the same with the transmission of the honours and fortune through a succession of males without their passing through any female4 ,it is a quality of human nature1 which we shall consider#d afterwards1 that the imagination naturally turns to whatever is important and considerable2 and where two objects are presented to it1 a small and a great one1 usually leaves the former1 and dwells entirely upon the latter4 ,as in the society of marriage1 the male sex has the advantage above the female1 the husband first engages our attention2 and whether we consider him directly1 or reach him by passing through related objects1 the thought both rests upon him with greater satisfaction1 and arrives at him with greater facility than his consort4 ,it is easy to see1 that this property must strengthen the child's relation to the father1 and weaken that to the mother4 ,for as all relations are nothing but a propensity to pass from one idea to another1 whatever strengthens the propensity strengthens the relation2 and as we have a stronger propensity to pass from the idea of the children to that of the father1 than from the same idea to that of the mother1 we ought to regard the former relation as the closer and more considerable4 ,this is the reason why children commonly bear their father's name1 and are esteemed to be of nobler or baser birth1 according to his family4 ,and though the mother should be possest of a superior spirit and genius to the father1 as often happens1 the general rule prevails1 notwithstanding the exception1 according to the doctrine above-explained4 ,nay even when a superiority of any kind is so great1 or when any other reasons have such an effect1 as to make the children rather represent3 the mother's family than the father's1 the general rule still retains such an efficacy that it weakens the relation1 and makes a kind of break in the line of ancestors4 ,the imagination runs not along them with facility1 nor is able to transfer the honour and credit of the ancestors to their posterity of the same name and family so readily1 as when the transition is conformable to the general rules1 and passes from father to son1 or from brother to brother4 #d ,part ,,ii4 ,sect1 #b4 ,,sect4 ,x ,,of ,,property ,,and ,,riches ,but the relation1 which is esteemed the closest1 and which of all others produces most commonly the passion of pride1 is that of property4 ,this relation it will be impossible for me fully to explain before ,i come to treat of justice and the other moral virtues4 ,it is sufficient to observe on this occasion1 that property may be defined1 such a relation betwixt a person and an object as permits him1 but forbids any other1 the free use and possession of it1 without violating the laws of justice and moral equity4 ,if justice1 therefore1 be a virtue1 which has a natural and original influence on the human mind1 property may be looked upon as a particular species of causation2 whether we consider the liberty it gives the proprietor to operate as he please upon the object or the advantages1 which he reaps from it4 ,it is the same case1 if justice1 according to the system of certain philosophers1 should be esteemed an artificial and not a natural virtue4 ,for then honour1 and custom1 and civil laws supply the place of natural conscience1 and produce1 in some degree1 the same effects4 ,this in the mean time is certain1 that the mention of the property naturally carries our thought to the proprietor1 and of the proprietor to the property2 which being a proof of a perfect relation of ideas is all that is requisite to our present purpose4 ,a relation of ideas1 joined to that of impressions1 always produces a transition of affections2 and therefore1 whenever any pleasure or pain arises from an object1 connected with us by property4 we may be certain1 that either pride or humility must arise from this conjunction of relations2 if the foregoing system be solid and satisfactory4 ,and whether it be so or not1 we may soon satisfy ourselves by the most cursory view of human life4 ,every thing belonging to a vain man is the best that is anywhere to be found4 ,his houses1 equipage1 furniture1 doaths1 horses1 hounds1 excel all others in his conceit2 and it is easy to observe1 that from the least advantage in any of these1 he draws a new subject of pride and vanity4 ,his wine1 if you'll believe him1 has a finer flavour than any other2 his cookery is more exquisite2 his table more orderly2 his servants more expert2 the air1 in which he lives1 more healthful2 the soil he cultivates more fertile2 his fruits ripen earlier and to greater perfection3 ,such a thing is remarkable for its novelty2 such another for its antiquity3 ,this is the workmanship of a famous artist2 that belonged once to such a prince or great man3 ,all objects1 in a word1 that are useful1 beautiful or surprising1 or are related to such1 may1 by means of property1 give rise to this passion4 ,these agree in giving pleasure1 and agree in nothing else4 ,this alone is common to them2 and therefore must be the quality that produces the passion1 which is their common effect4 ,as every new instance is a new argument1 and as the instances are here without number1 ,i may venture to affirm1 that scarce any system was ever so fully proved by experience1 as that which ,i have here advanced4 ,if the property of any thing1 that gives pleasure either by its utility1 beauty or novelty1 produces also pride by a double relation of impressions and ideas2 we need not be surprized1 that the power of acquiring this property1 should have the same effect4 ,now riches are to be considered as the power of acquiring the property of what pleases2 and it is only in this view they have any influence on the passions4 ,paper will1 on many occasions1 be considered as riches1 and that because it may convey the power of acquiring money3 ,and money is not riches1 as it is a metal endowed with certain qualities of solidity1 weight and fusibility2 but only as it has a relation to the pleasures and conveniences of life4 ,taking then this for granted1 which is in itself so evident1 we may draw from it one of the strongest arguments ,i have yet employed to prove the influence of the double relations on pride and humility4 ,it has been observed in treating of the understanding1 that the distinction1 which we sometimes make betwixt a power and the exercise of it1 is entirely frivolous1 and that neither man nor any other being ought ever to be thought possest of any ability1 unless it be exerted and put in action4 ,but though this be strictly true in a just and philosophical way of thinking1 it is certain it is not the philosophy of our passions2 but that many things operate upon them by means of the idea and supposition of power1 independent of its actual exercise4 ,we are pleased when we acquire an ability of procuring pleasure1 and are displeased when another acquires a power of giving pain4 ,this is evident from experience2 but in order to give a just explication of the matter1 and account for this satisfaction and uneasiness1 we must weigh the following reflections4 ,it is evident the error of distinguishing power from its exercise proceeds not entirely from the scholastic doctrine of free-will1 which1 indeed1 enters very little into common life1 and has but small influence on our vulgar and popular ways of thinking4 ,according to that doctrine1 motives deprive us not of free-will1 nor take away our power of performing or forbearing any action4 ,but according to common notions a man has no power1 where very considerable motives lie betwixt him and the satisfaction of his desires1 and determine him to forbear what he wishes to perform4 ,i do not think ,i have fallen into my enemy's power1 when ,i see him pass me in the streets with a sword by his side1 while ,i am unprovided of any weapon4 ,i know that the fear of the civil magistrate is as strong a restraint as any of iron1 and that ,i am in as perfect safety as if he were chained or imprisoned4 ,but when a person acquires such an authority over me1 that not only there is no external obstacle to his actions2 but also that he may punish or reward me as he pleases1 without any dread of punishment in his turn1 ,i then attribute a full power to him1 and consider myself as his subject or vassal4 ,now if we compare these two cases1 that of a person1 who has very strong motives of interest or safety to forbear any action1 and that of another1 who lies under no such obligation1 we shall find1 according to the philosophy explained in the foregoing book1 that the only known difference betwixt them lies in this1 that in the former case we conclude from past experience1 that the person never will perform that action1 and in the latter1 that he possibly or probably will perform it4 ,nothing is more fluctuating and inconstant on many occasions1 than the will of man2 nor is there any thing but strong motives1 which can give us an absolute certainty in pronouncing concerning any of his future actions4 ,when we see a person free from these motives1 we suppose a possibility either of his acting or forbearing2 and though in general we may conclude him to be determined by motives and causes1 yet this removes not the uncertainty of our judgment concerning these causes1 nor the influence of that uncertainty on the passions4 ,since therefore we ascribe a power of performing an action to every one1 who has no very powerful motive to forbear it1 and refuse it to such as have2 it may justly be concluded1 that power has always a reference to its exercise1 either actual or probable1 and that we consider a person as endowed with any ability when we find from past experience1 that it is probable1 or at least possible he may exert it4 ,and indeed1 as our passions always regard the real existence of objects1 and we always judge of this reality from past instances2 nothing can be more likely of itself1 without any farther reasoning1 than that power consists in the possibility or probability of any action1 as discovered by experience and the practice of the world4 ,now it is evident1 that wherever a person is in such a situation with regard to me1 that there is no very powerful motive to deter him from injuring me1 and consequently it is uncertain whether he will injure me or not1 ,i must be uneasy in such a situation1 and cannot consider the possibility or probability of that injury without a sensible concern4 ,the passions are not only affected by such events as are certain and infallible1 but also in an inferior degree by such as are possible and contingent4 ,and though perhaps ,i never really feel any harm1 and discover by the event1 that1 philosophically speaking1 the person never had any power of harming me2 since he did not exert any2 this prevents not my uneasiness from the preceding uncertainty4 ,the agreeable passions may here operate as well as the uneasy1 and convey a pleasure when ,i perceive a good to become either possible or probable by the possibility or probability of another's bestowing it on me1 upon the removal of any strong motives1 which might formerly have hindered him4 ,but we may farther observe1 that this satisfaction encreases1 when any good approaches in such a manner that it is in one's own power to take or leave it1 and there neither is any physical impediment1 nor any very strong motive to hinder our enjoyment4 ,as all men desire pleasure1 nothing can be more probable1 than its existence when there is no external obstacle to the producing it1 and men perceive no danger in following their inclinations4 ,in that case their imagination easily anticipates the satisfaction1 and conveys the same joy1 as if they were persuaded of its real and actual existence4 ,but this accounts not sufficiently for the satisfaction1 which attends riches4 ,a miser receives delight from his money2 that is1 from the power it affords him of procuring all the pleasures and conveniences of life1 though he knows he has enjoyed his riches for forty years without ever employing them2 and consequently cannot conclude by any species of reasoning1 that the real existence of these pleasures is nearer1 than if he were entirely deprived of all his possessions4 ,but though he cannot form any such conclusion in a way of reasoning concerning the nearer approach of the pleasure1 it is certain he imagines it to approach nearer1 whenever all external obstacles are removed1 along with the more powerful motives of interest and danger1 which oppose it4 ,for farther satisfaction on this head ,i must refer to my account of the will1 where ,i shall#e explain that false sensation of liberty1 which makes us imagine we can perform any thing1 that is not very dangerous or destructive4 ,whenever any other person is under no strong obligations of interest to forbear any pleasure1 we judge from experience1 that the pleasure will exist1 and that he will probably obtain it4 ,but when ourselves are in that situation1 we judge from an illusion of the fancy1 that the pleasure is still closer and more immediate4 ,the will seems to move easily every way1 and casts a shadow or image of itself1 even to that side1 on which it did not settle4 ,by means of this image the enjoyment seems to approach nearer to us1 and gives us the same lively satisfaction1 as if it were perfectly certain and unavoidable4 #e ,part ,,iii4 ,sect4 #b4 ,it will now be easy to draw this whole reasoning to a point1 and to prove1 that when riches produce any pride or vanity in their possessors1 as they never fail to do1 it is only by means of a double relation of impressions and ideas4 ,the very essence of riches consists in the power of procuring the pleasures and conveniences of life4 ,the very essence of this consists in the probability of its exercise1 and in its causing us to anticipate1 by a true or false reasoning1 the real existence of the pleasure4 ,this anticipation of pleasure is1 in itself1 a very considerable pleasure2 and as its cause is some possession or property1 which we enjoy1 and which is thereby related to us1 we here dearly see all the parts of the foregoing system most exactly and distinctly drawn out before us4 ,for the same reason1 that riches cause pleasure and pride1 and poverty excites uneasiness and humility1 power must produce the former emotions1 and slavery the latter4 ,power or an authority over others makes us capable of satisfying all our desires2 as slavery1 by subjecting us to the will of others1 exposes us to a thousand wants1 and mortifications4 ,it is here worth observing1 that the vanity of power1 or shame of slavery1 are much augmented by the consideration of the persons1 over whom we exercise our authority1 or who exercise it over us4 ,for supposing it possible to frame statues of such an admirable mechanism1 that they could move and act in obedience to the will2 it is evident the possession of them would give pleasure and pride1 but not to such a degree1 as the same authority1 when exerted over sensible and rational creatures1 whose condition1 being compared to our own1 makes it seem more agreeable and honourable4 ,comparison is in every case a sure method of augmenting our esteem of any thing4 ,a rich man feels the felicity of his condition better by opposing it to that of a beggar4 ,but there is a peculiar advantage in power1 by the contrast1 which is1 in a manner1 presented to us1 betwixt ourselves and the person we command4 ,the comparison is obvious and natural3 ,the imagination finds it in the very subject3 ,the passage of the thought to its conception is smooth and easy4 ,and that this circumstance has a considerable effect in augmenting its influence1 will appear afterwards in examining the nature of malice and envy4 ,,sect4 ,,xi ,,of ,,the ,,love ,,of ,,fame ,but beside these original causes of pride and humility1 there is a secondary one in the opinions of others1 which has an equal influence on the affections4 ,our reputation1 our character1 our name are considerations of vast weight and importance2 and even the other causes of pride2 virtue1 beauty and riches2 have little influence1 when not seconded by the opinions and sentiments of others4 ,in order to account for this phnomenon it will be necessary to take some compass1 and first explain the nature of sympathy4 ,no quality of human nature is more remarkable1 both in itself and in its consequences1 than that propensity we have to sympathize with others1 and to receive by communication their inclinations and sentiments1 however different from1 or even contrary to our own4 ,this is not only conspicuous in children1 who implicitly embrace every opinion proposed to them2 but also in men of the greatest judgment and understanding1 who find it very difficult to follow their own reason or inclination1 in opposition to that of their friends and daily companions4 ,to this principle we ought to ascribe the great uniformity we may observe in the humours and turn of thinking of those of the same nation2 and it is much more probable1 that this resemblance arises from sympathy1 than from any influence of the soil and climate1 which1 though they continue invariably the same1 are not able to preserve the character of a nation the same for a century together4 ,a good-natured man finds himself in an instant of the same humour with his company2 and even the proudest and most surly take a tincture from their countrymen and acquaintance4 ,a chearful countenance infuses a sensible complacency and serenity into my mind2 as an angry or sorrowful one throws a sudden dump upon me4 ,hatred1 resentment1 esteem1 love1 courage1 mirth and melancholy2 all these passions ,i feel more from communication than from my own natural temper and disposition4 ,so remarkable a phnomenon merits our attention1 and must be traced up to its first principles4 ,when any affection is infused by sympathy1 it is at first known only by its effects1 and by those external signs in the countenance and conversation1 which convey an idea of it4 ,this idea is presently converted into an impression1 and acquires such a degree of force and vivacity1 as to become the very passion itself1 and produce an equal emotion1 as any original affection4 ,however instantaneous this change of the idea into an impression may be1 it proceeds from certain views and reflections1 which will not escape the strict scrutiny of a philosopher1 though they may the person himself1 who makes them4 ,it is evident1 that the idea1 or rather impression of ourselves is always intimately present with us1 and that our consciousness gives us so lively a conception of our own person1 that it is not possible to imagine1 that any thing can in this particular go beyond it4 ,whatever object1 therefore1 is related to ourselves must be conceived with a little vivacity of conception1 according to the foregoing principles2 and though this relation should not be so strong as that of causation1 it must still have a considerable influence4 ,resemblance and contiguity are relations not to be neglected2 especially when by an inference from cause and effect1 and by the observation of external signs1 we are informed of the real existence of the object1 which is resembling or contiguous4 ,now it is obvious1 that nature has preserved a great resemblance among all human creatures1 and that we never remark any passion or principle in others1 of which1 in some degree or other1 we may not find a parallel in ourselves4 ,the case is the same with the fabric of the mind1 as with that of the body4 ,however the parts may differ in shape or size1 their structure and composition are in general the same4 ,there is a very remarkable resemblance1 which preserves itself amidst all their variety2 and this resemblance must very much contribute to make us enter into the sentiments of others2 and embrace them with facility and pleasure4 ,accordingly we find1 that where1 beside the general resemblance of our natures1 there is any peculiar similarity in our manners1 or character1 or country1 or language1 it facilitates the sympathy4 ,the stronger the relation is betwixt ourselves and any object1 the more easily does the imagination make the transition1 and convey to the related idea the vivacity of conception1 with which we always form the idea of our own person4 ,nor is resemblance the only relation1 which has this effect1 but receives new force from other relations1 that may accompany it4 ,the sentiments of others have little influence1 when far removed from us1 and require the relation of contiguity1 to make them communicate themselves entirely4 ,the relations of blood1 being a species of causation1 may sometimes contribute to the same effect2 as also acquaintance1 which operates in the same manner with education and custom2 as we shall see more fully#f afterwards4 ,all these relations1 when united together1 convey the impression or consciousness of our own person to the idea of the sentiments or passions of others1 and makes us conceive them in the strongest and most lively manner4 #f ,part ,,ii4 ,sect4 #d4 ,it has been remarked in the beginning of this treatise1 that all ideas are borrowed from impressions1 and that these two kinds of perceptions differ only in the degrees of force and vivacity1 with which they strike upon the soul4 ,the component part of ideas and impressions are precisely alike4 ,the manner and order of their appearance may be the same4 ,the different degrees of their force and vivacity are1 therefore1 the only particulars1 that distinguish them3 ,and as this difference may be removed1 in some measure1 by a relation betwixt the impressions and ideas1 it is no wonder an idea of a sentiment or passion1 may by this means be inlivened as to become the very sentiment or passion4 ,the lively idea of any object always approaches is impression2 and it is certain we may feel sickness and pain from the mere force of imagination1 and make a malady real by often thinking of it4 ,but this is most remarkable in the opinions and affections2 and it is there principally that a lively idea is converted into an impression4 ,our affections depend more upon ourselves1 and the internal operations of the mind1 than any other impressions2 for which reason they arise more naturally from the imagination1 and from every lively idea we form of them4 ,this is the nature and cause of sympathy2 and it is after this manner we enter so deep into the opinions and affections of others1 whenever we discover them4 ,what is principally remarkable in this whole affair is the strong confirmation these phaenomena give to the foregoing system concerning the understanding1 and consequently to the present one concerning the passions2 since these are analogous to each other4 ,it is indeed evident1 that when we sympathize with the passions and sentiments of others1 these movements appear at first in our mind as mere ideas1 and are conceived to belong to another person1 as we conceive any other matter of fact4 ,it is also evident1 that the ideas of the affections of others are converted into the very impressions they represent1 and that the passions arise in conformity to the images we form of them4 ,all this is an object of the plainest experience1 and depends not on any hypothesis of philosophy4 ,that science can only be admitted to explain the phaenomena2 though at the same time it must be confest1 they are so clear of themselves1 that there is but little occasion to employ it4 ,for besides the relation of cause and effect1 by which we are convinced of the reality of the passion1 with which we sympathize2 besides this1 ,i say1 we must be assisted by the relations of resemblance and contiguity1 in order to feel the sympathy in its full perfection4 ,and since these relations can entirely convert an idea into an impression1 and convey the vivacity of the latter into the former1 so perfectly as to lose nothing of it in the transition1 we may easily conceive how the relation of cause and effect alone1 may serve to strengthen and inliven an idea4 ,in sympathy there is an evident conversion of an idea into an impression4 ,this conversion arises from the relation of objects to ourself4 ,ourself is always intimately present to us4 ,let us compare all these circumstances1 and we shall find1 that sympathy is exactly correspondent to the operations of our understanding2 and even contains something more surprizing and extraordinary4 ,it is now time to turn our view from the general consideration of sympathy1 to its influence on pride and humility1 when these passions arise from praise and blame1 from reputation and infamy4 ,we may observe1 that no person is ever praised by another for any quality1 which would not1 if real1 produce1 of itself1 a pride in the person possest of it4 ,the elogiums either turn upon his power1 or riches1 or family1 or virtue2 all of which are subjects of vanity1 that we have already explained and accounted for4 ,it is certain1 then1 that if a person considered himself in the same light1 in which he appears to his admirer1 he would first receive a separate pleasure1 and afterwards a pride or self-satisfaction1 according to the hypothesis above explained4 ,now nothing is more natural than for us to embrace the opinions of others in this particular2 both from sympathy1 which renders all their sentiments intimately present to us2 and from reasoning1 which makes us regard their judgment1 as a kind of argument for what they affirm4 ,these two principles of authority and sympathy influence almost all our opinions2 but must have a peculiar influence1 when we judge of our own worth and character4 ,such judgments are always attended with passion2#g and nothing tends more to disturb our understanding1 and precipitate us into any opinions1 however unreasonable1 than their connexion with passion2 which diffuses itself over the imagination1 and gives an additional force to every related idea4 ,to which we may add1 that being conscious of great partiality in our own favour1 we are peculiarly pleased with any thing1 that confirms the good opinion we have of ourselves1 and are easily shocked with whatever opposes it4 #g ,book ,i1 ,part ,,iii4 ,sect4 #aj4 ,all this appears very probable in theory2 but in order to bestow a full certainty on this reasoning1 we must examine the phaenonena of the passions1 and see if they agree with it4 ,among these phaenomena we may esteem it a very favourable one to our present purposes that though fame in general be agreeable1 yet we receive a much greater satisfaction from the approbation of those1 whom we ourselves esteem and approve of1 than of those1 whom we hate and despise4 ,in like measure we are principally mortifyed with the contempt of persons1 upon whose judgment we set some value1 and are1 in a peat measure1 indifferent about the opinions of the rest of mankind4 ,but if the mind received from any original instinct a desire of fame and aversion to infamy1 fame and infamy would influence us without distinction2 and every opinion1 according as it were favourable or unfavourable1 would equally excite that desire or aversion4 ,the judgment of a fool is the judgment of another person1 as well as that of a wise man1 and is only inferior in its influence on our own judgment4 ,we are not only better pleased with the approbation of a wise man than with that of a fool1 but receive an additional satisfaction from the former1 when it is obtained after a long and intimate acquaintance4 ,this is accounted for after the same manner4 ,the praises of others never give us much pleasure1 unless they concur with our own opinion1 and extol us for those qualities1 in which we chiefly excel4 ,a mere soldier little values the character of eloquence3 ,a gownman of courage3 ,a bishop of humour3 ,or a merchant of learning4 ,whatever esteem a man may have for any quality1 abstractedly considered2 when he is conscious he is not possest of it2 the opinions of the whole world will give him little pleasure in that particular1 and that because they never will be able to draw his own opinion after them4 ,nothing is more usual than for men of good families1 but narrow circumstances1 to leave their friends and country1 and rather seek their livelihood by mean and mechanical employments among strangers1 than among those1 who are acquainted with their birth and education4 ,we shall be unknown1 say they1 where we go4 ,no body will suspect from what family we are sprung4 ,we shall be removed from all our friends and acquaintance1 and our poverty and meanness will by that means sit more easy upon us4 ,in examining these sentiments1 ,i find they afford many very convincing arguments for my present purpose4 ,first1 ,we may infer from them1 that the uneasiness of being contemned depends on sympathy1 and that sympathy depends on the relation of objects to ourselves2 since we are most uneasy under the contempt of persons1 who are both related to us by blood1 and contiguous in place4 ,hence we seek to diminish this sympathy and uneasiness by separating these relations1 and placing ourselves in a contiguity to strangers1 and at a distance from relations4 ,secondly1 ,we may conclude1 that relations are requisite to sympathy1 not absolutely considered as relations1 but by their influence in converting our ideas of the sentiments of others into the very sentiments1 by means of the association betwixt the idea of their persons1 and that of our own4 ,for here the relations of kindred and contiguity both subsist2 but not being united in the same persons1 they contribute in a less degree to the sympathy4 ,thirdly1 ,this very circumstance of the diminution of sympathy by the separation of relations is worthy of our attention4 ,suppose ,i am placed in a poor condition among strangers1 and consequently am but lightly treated2 ,i yet find myself easier in that situation1 than when ,i was every day exposed to the contempt of my kindred and countrymen4 ,here ,i feel a double contempt2 from my relations1 but they are absent2 from those about me1 but they are strangers4 ,this double contempt is likewise strengthened by the two relations of kindred and contiguity4 ,but as the persons are not the same1 who are connected with me by those two relations1 this difference of ideas separates the impressions arising from the contempt1 and keeps them from running into each other4 ,the contempt of my neighbours has a certain influence2 as has also that of my kindred3 ,but these influences are distinct1 and never unite2 as when the contempt proceeds from persons who are at once both my neighbours and kindred4 ,this phnomenon is analogous to the system of pride and humility above-explained1 which may seem so extraordinary to vulgar apprehensions4 ,fourthly1 ,a person in these circumstances naturally conceals his birth from those among whom he lives1 and is very uneasy1 if any one suspects him to be of a family1 much superior to his present fortune and way of living4 ,every thing in this world is judged of by comparison4 ,what is an immense fortune for a private gentleman is beggary for a prince4 ,a peasant would think himself happy in what cannot afford necessaries for a gentleman4 ,when a man has either been accustomed to a more splendid way of living1 or thinks himself intitled to it by his birth and quality1 every thing below is disagreeable and even shameful2 and it is with the greatest industry he conceals his pretensions to a better fortune4 ,here he himself knows his misfortunes2 but as those1 with whom he lives4 are ignorant of them1 he has the disagreeable reflection and comparison suggested only by his own thoughts1 and never receives it by a sympathy with others2 which must contribute very much to his ease and satisfaction4 ,if there be any objections to this hypothesis1 ,,that ,,the ,,pleasure1 ,,which ,,we ,,receive ,,from ,,praise1 ,,arises ,,from ,a ,,communication ,,of ,,sentiments1 we shall find1 upon examination1 that these objections1 when taken in a proper light1 will serve to confirm it4 ,popular fame may be agreeable even to a man1 who despises the vulgar2 but it is because their multitude gives them additional weight and authority4 ,plagiaries are delighted with praises1 which they are conscious they do not deserve2 but this is a kind of castle-building1 where the imagination amuses itself with its own fictions1 and strives to render them firm and stable by a sympathy with the sentiments of others4 ,proud men are most shocked with contempt1 should they do not most readily assent to it2 but it is because of the opposition betwixt the passion1 which is natural to them1 and that received by sympathy4 ,a violent lover in like manner is very much displeased when you blame and condemn his love2 though it is evident your opposition can have no influence1 but by the hold it takes of himself1 and by his sympathy with you4 ,if he despises you1 or perceives you are in jest1 whatever you say has no effect upon him4 ,,sect4 ,,xii ,,of ,,the ,,pride ,,and ,,humility ,,of ,,animals ,thus in whatever light we consider this subject1 we may still observe1 that die causes of pride and humility correspond exactly to our hypothesis1 and that nothing can excite either of these passions1 unless it be both related to ourselves1 and produces a pleasure or pain independent of the passion4 ,we have not only proved1 that a tendency to produce pleasure or pain is common to all the causes of pride or humility1 but also that it is the only thing1 which is common2 and consequently is the quality1 by which they operate4 ,we have farther proved1 that the most considerable causes of these passions are really nothing but the power of producing either agreeable or uneasy sensations2 and therefore that all their effects1 and amongst the rest1 pride and humility1 are derived solely from that origin4 ,such simple and natural principles1 founded on such solid proofs1 cannot fail to be received by philosophers1 unless opposed by some objections1 that have escaped me4 ,it is usual with anatomists to join their observations and experiments on human bodies to those on beasts1 and from the agreement of these experiments to derive an additional argument for any particular hypothesis4 ,it is indeed certain1 that where the structure of parts in brutes is the same as in men1 and the operation of these parts also the same1 the causes of that operation cannot be different1 and that whatever we discover to be true of the one species1 may be concluded without hesitation to be certain of the other4 ,thus though the mixture of humours and the composition of minute parts may justly be presumed so be somewhat different in men from what it is in mere animals2 and therefore any experiment we make upon the one concerning the effects of medicines will not always apply to the other2 yet as the structure of the veins and muscles1 the fabric and situation of the heart1 of the lungs1 the stomach1 the liver and other parts1 are the same or nearly the same in all animals1 the very same hypothesis1 which in one species explains muscular motion1 the progress of the chyle1 the circulation of the blood1 must be applicable to every one2 and according as it agrees or disagrees with the experiments we may make in any species of creatures1 we may draw a proof of its truth or falshood on the whole4 ,let us1 therefore1 apply this method of enquiry1 which is found so just and useful in reasonings concerning the body1 to our present anatomy of the mind1 and see what discoveries we can make by it4 ,in order to this we must first shew the correspondence of passions in men and animals1 and afterwards compare the causes1 which produce these passions4 ,it is plain1 that almost in every species of creatures1 but especially of the nobler kind1 there are many evident marks of pride and humility4 ,the very port and gait of a swan1 or turkey1 or peacock show the high idea he has entertained of himself1 and his contempt of all others4 ,this is the more remarkable1 that in the two last species of animals1 the pride always attends the beauty1 and is discovered in the male only4 ,the vanity and emulation of nightingales in singing have been commonly remarked2 as likewise that of horses in swiftness1 of hounds in sagacity and smell1 of the bull and cock in strength1 and of every other animal in his particular excellency4 ,add to this1 that every species of creatures1 which approach so often to man1 as to familiarize themselves with him1 show an evident pride in his approbation1 and are pleased with his praises and caresses1 independent of every other consideration4 ,nor are they the caresses of every one without distinction1 which give them this vanity1 but those principally of the persons they know and love2 in the same manner as that passion is excited in mankind4 ,all these are evident proofs1 that pride and humility are not merely human passions1 but extend themselves over the whole animal creation4 ,the ,,causes of these passions are likewise much the same in beasts as in us1 making a just allowance for our superior knowledge and understanding4 ,thus animals have little or no sense of virtue or vice2 they quickly lose sight of the relations of blood2 and are incapable of that of right and property3 ,for which reason the causes of their pride and humility must lie solely in the body1 and can never be placed either in the mind or external objects4 ,but so far as regards the body1 the same qualities cause pride in the animal as in the human kind2 and it is on beauty1 strength1 swiftness or some other useful or agreeable quality that this passion is always founded4 ,the next question is1 whether1 since those passions are the same1 and arise from the same causes through the whole creation1 the manner1 in which the causes operate1 be also the same4 ,according to all rules of analogy1 this is justly to be expected2 and if we find upon trial1 that the explication of these phaenomena1 which we make use of in one species1 will not apply to the rest1 we may presume that that explication1 however specious1 is in reality without foundation4 ,in order to decide this question1 let us consider1 that there is evidently the same relation of ideas1 and derived from the same causes1 in the minds of animals as in those of men4 ,a dog1 that has hid a bone1 often forgets the place2 but when brought to it1 his thought passes easily to what he formerly concealed1 by means of the contiguity1 which produces a relation among his ideas4 ,in like manner1 when he has been heartily beat in any place1 he will tremble on his approach to it1 even though he discover no signs of any present danger4 ,the effects of resemblance are not so remarkable2 but as that relation makes a considerable ingredient in causation1 of which all animals shew so evident a judgment1 we may conclude that the three relations of resemblance1 contiguity and causation operate in the same manner upon beasts as upon human creatures4 ,there are also instances of the relation of impressions1 sufficient to convince us1 that there is an union of certain affections with each other in the inferior species of creatures as well as in the superior1 and that their minds are frequently conveyed through a series of connected emotions4 ,a dog1 when elevated with joy1 runs naturally into love and kindness1 whether of his master or of the sex4 ,in like manner1 when full of pain and sorrow1 he becomes quarrelsome and ill-natured2 and that passion2 which at first was grief1 is by the smallest occasion converted into anger4 ,thus all the internal principles1 that are necessary in us to produce either pride or humility1 are common to all creatures2 and since the causes1 which excite these passions1 are likewise the same1 we may justly conclude1 that these causes operate after the same manner through the whole animal creation4 ,my hypothesis ,is so simple1 and supposes so little reflection and judgment1 that it is applicable to every sensible creature2 which must not only be allowed to be a convincing proof of its veracity1 but1 ,i am confident1 will be found an objection to every other system4 ,,part ,,ii ,,of ,,love ,,and ,,hatred ,,sect4 ,i ,,of ,,the ,,object ,,and ,,causes ,,of ,,love ,,and ,,hatred ,it is altogether impossible to give any definition of the passions of love and hatred2 and that because they produce merely a simple impression1 without any mixture or composition4 ,twould be as unnecessary to attempt any description of them1 drawn from their nature1 origin1 causes and objects2 and that both because these are the subjects of our present enquiry1 and because these passions of themselves are sufficiently known from our common feeling and experience4 ,this we have already observed concerning pride and humility1 and here repeat it concerning love and hatred2 and indeed there is so great a resemblance betwixt these two sets of passions1 that we shall be obliged to begin with a kind of abridgment of our reasonings concerning the former1 in order to explain the latter4 ,as the immediate object of pride and humility is self or that identical person1 of whose thoughts1 actions1 and sensations we are intimately conscious2 so the object of love and hatred is some other person1 of whose thoughts1 actions1 and sensations we are not conscious4 ,this is sufficiently evident from experience4 ,our love and hatred are always directed to some sensible being external to us2 and when we talk of self-love1 it is not in a proper sense1 nor has the sensation it produces any thing in common with that tender emotion which is excited by a friend or mistress4 ,it is the same case with hatred4 ,we may be mortified by our own faults and follies2 but never feel any anger or hatred except from the injuries of others4 ,but though the object of love and hatred be always some other person1 it is plain that the object is not1 properly speaking1 the cause of these passions1 or alone sufficient to excite them4 ,for since love and hatred are directly contrary in their sensation1 and have the same object in common1 if that object were also their cause1 it would produce these opposite passions in an equal degree2 and as they must1 from the very first moment1 destroy each other1 none of them would ever be able to make its appearance4 ,there must1 therefore1 be some cause different from the object4 ,if we consider the causes of love and hatred1 we shall find they are very much diversifyed1 and have not many things in common4 ,the virtue1 knowledge1 wit1 good sense1 good humour of any person1 produce love and esteem2 as the opposite qualities1 hatred and contempt4 ,the same passions arise from bodily accomplishments1 such as beauty1 force1 swiftness1 dexterity2 and from their contraries2 as likewise from the external advantages and disadvantages of family1 possession1 cloaths1 nation and climate4 ,there is not one of these objects1 but what by its different qualities may produce love and esteem1 or hatred and contempt4 ,from the view of these causes we may derive a new distinction betwixt the quality that operates1 and the subject on which it is placed4 ,a prince1 that is possessed of a stately palace1 commands the esteem of the people upon that account2 and that first1 by the beauty of the palace1 and secondly1 by the relation of property1 which connects it with him4 ,the removal of either of these destroys the passion2 which evidently proves that the cause ,is a compounded one4 ,twould be tedious to trace the passions of love and hatred1 through all the observations which we have formed concerning pride and humility1 and which are equally applicable to both sets of passions4 ,twill be sufficient to remark in general1 that the object of love and hatred is evidently some thinking person2 and that the sensation of the former passion is always agreeable1 and of the latter uneasy4 ,we may also suppose with some shew of probability1 ,,that ,,the ,,cause ,,of ,,both ,,these ,,passions ,,is ,,always ,,related ,,to ,a ,,thinking ,,being1 ,,and ,,that ,,the ,,cause ,,of ,,the ,,former ,,produce ,a ,,separate ,,pleasure1 ,,and ,,of ,,the ,,latter ,a ,,separate ,,uneasiness4 ,one of these suppositions1 viz1 that the cause of love and hatred must be related to a person or thinking being1 in order to produce these passions1 is not only probable1 but too evident to be contested4 ,virtue and vice1 when considered in the abstract2 beauty and deformity1 when placed on inanimate objects2 poverty and riches when belonging to a third person1 excite no degree of love or hatred1 esteem or contempt towards those1 who have no relation to them4 ,a person looking out at a window1 sees me in the street1 and beyond me a beautiful palace1 with which ,i have no concern3 ,i believe none will pretend1 that this person will pay me the same respect1 as if ,i were owner of the palace4 ,it is not so evident at first sight1 that a relation of impressions is requisite to these passions1 and that because in the transition the one impression is so much confounded with the other1 that they become in a manner undistinguishable4 ,but as in pride and humility1 we have easily been able to make the separation1 and to prove1 that every cause of these passions1 produces a separate pain or pleasure1 ,i might here observe the same method with the same success1 in examining particularly the several causes of love and hatred4 ,but as ,i hasten a full and decisive proof of these systems1 ,i delay this examination for a moment3 ,and in the mean time shall endeavour to convert to my present purpose all my reasonings concerning pride and humility1 by an argument that is founded on unquestionable examination4 ,there are few persons1 that are satisfyed with their own character1 or genius1 or fortune1 who are nor desirous of shewing themselves to the world1 and of acquiring the love and approbation of mankind4 ,now it is evident1 that the very same qualities and circumstances1 which are the causes of pride or self-esteem1 are also the causes of vanity or the desire of reputation2 and that we always put to view those particulars with which in ourselves we are best satisfyed4 ,but if love and esteem were not produced by the same qualities as pride1 according as these qualities are related to ourselves or others1 this method of proceeding would be very absurd1 nor could men expect a correspondence in the sentiments of every other person1 with those themselves have entertained4 ,it is true1 few can form exact systems of the passions1 or make reflections on their general nature and resemblances4 ,but without such a progress in philosophy1 we are not subject to many mistakes in this particular1 but are sufficiently guided by common experience1 as well as by a kind of presentation2 which tells us what will operate on others1 by what we feel immediately in ourselves4 ,since then the same qualities that produce pride or humility1 cause love or hatred2 all the arguments that have been employed to prove1 that the causes of the former passions excite a pain or pleasure independent of the passion1 will be applicable with equal evidence to the causes of the latter4 ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,experiments ,,to ,,confirm ,,this ,,system ,upon duly weighing these arguments1 no one will make any scruple to assent to that conclusion ,i draw from them1 concerning the transition along related impressions and ideas1 especially as it is a principle1 in itself1 so easy and natural4 ,but that we may place this system beyond doubt both with regard to love and hatred1 pride and humility1 it will be proper to make some new experiments upon all these passions1 as well as to recall a few of these observations1 which ,i have formerly touched upon4 ,in order to make these experiments1 let us suppose ,i am in company with a person1 whom ,i formerly regarded without any sentiments either of friendship or enmity4 ,here ,i have the natural and ultimate object of all these four passions placed before me4 ,myself am the proper object of pride or humility2 the other person of love or hatred4 ,regard now with attention the nature of these passions1 and their situation with respect to each other4 ,it is evident here are four affections1 placed1 as it were1 in a square or regular connexion with1 and distance from each other4 ,the passions of pride and humility1 as well as those of love and hatred1 are connected together by the identity of their object1 which to the first set of passions is self1 to the second some other person4 ,these two lines of communication or connexion form two opposite sides of the square4 ,again1 pride and love are agreeable passions2 hatred and humility uneasy4 ,this similitude of sensation betwixt pride and love1 and that betwixt humility and hatred form a new connexion1 and may be considered as the other two sides of the square4 ,upon the whole1 pride is connected with humility1 love with hatred1 by their objects or ideas3 ,pride with love1 humility with hatred1 by their sensations or impressions4 ,i say then1 that nothing can produce any of these passions without bearing it a double relation1 viz1 of ideas to the object of the passion1 and of sensation to the passion itself4 ,this we must prove by our experiments4 ,first ,experiment4 ,to proceed with the greater order in these experiments1 let us first suppose1 that being placed in the situation above-mentioned1 viz1 in company with some other person1 there is an object presented1 that has no relation either of impressions or ideas to any of these passions4 ,thus suppose we regard together an ordinary stone1 or other common object1 belonging to neither of us1 and causing of itself no emotion1 or independent pain and pleasure3 ,it is evident such an object will produce none of these four passions4 ,let us try it upon each of them successively4 ,let us apply it to love1 to hatred1 to humility1 to pride2 none of them ever arises in the smallest degree imaginable4 ,let us change the object1 as oft as we please2 provided still we choose one1 that has neither of these two relations4 ,let us repeat the experiment in all the dispositions1 of which the mind is susceptible4 ,no object1 in the vast variety of nature1 will1 in any disposition1 produce any passion without these relations4 ,second ,experiment4 ,since an object1 that wants both these relations can never produce any passion1 let us bestow on it only one of these relations2 and see what will follow4 ,thus suppose1 ,i regard a stone or any common object1 that belongs either to me or my companion1 and by that means acquires a relation of ideas to the object of the passions3 ,it is plain1 that to consider the matter a priori1 no emotion of any kind can reasonably be expected4 ,for besides1 that a relation of ideas operates secretly and calmly on the mind1 it bestows an equal impulse towards the opposite passions of pride and humility1 love and hatred1 according as the object belongs to ourselves or others2 which opposition of the passions must destroy both1 and leave the mind perfectly free from any affection or emotion4 ,this reasoning a priori is confirmed by experience4 ,no trivial or vulgar object1 that causes not a pain or pleasure1 independent of the passion1 will ever1 by its property or other relations either to ourselves or others1 be able to produce the affections of pride or humility1 love or hatred4 ,third ,experiment4 ,it is evident1 therefore1 that a relation of ideas is not able alone to give rise to these affections4 ,let us now remove this relation1 and in its stead place a relation of impressions1 by presenting an object1 which is agreeable or disagreeable1 but has no relation either to ourself or companion2 and let us observe the consequences4 ,to consider the matter first a priori1 as in the preceding experiment2 we may conclude1 that the object will have a small1 but an uncertain connexion with these passions4 ,for besides1 that this relation is not a cold and imperceptible one1 it has not the inconvenience of the relation of ideas1 nor directs us with equal force to two contrary passions1 which by their opposition destroy each other4 ,but if we consider1 on the other hand1 that this transition from the sensation to the affection is not forwarded by any principle1 that produces a transition of ideas2 but1 on the contrary1 that though the one impression be easily transfused into the other1 yet the change of objects is supposed contrary to all the principles1 that cause a transition of that kind2 we may from thence infer1 that nothing will ever be a steady or durable cause of any passion1 that is connected with the passion merely by a relation of impressions4 ,what our reason would conclude from analogy1 after balancing these arguments1 would be1 that an object1 which produces pleasure or uneasiness1 but has no manner of connexion either with ourselves or others1 may give such a turn to the disposition1 as that may naturally fall into pride or love1 humility or hatred1 and search for other objects1 upon which by a double relation1 it can found these affections2 but that an object1 which has only one of these relations1 though the most advantageous one1 can never give rise to any constant and established passion4 ,most fortunately all this reasoning is found to be exactly conformable to experience1 and the phaenomena of the passions4 ,suppose ,i were travelling with a companion through a country1 to which we are both utter strangers2 it is evident1 that if the prospects be beautiful1 the roads agreeable1 and the inns commodious1 this may put me into good humour both with myself and fellow-traveller4 ,but as we suppose1 that this country has no relation either to myself or friend it can never be the immediate cause of pride or love2 and therefore if ,i found not the passion on some other object1 that bears either of us a closer relation1 my emotions are rather to be considerd as the overflowings of an elevate or humane disposition1 than as an established passion4 ,the case is the same where the object produces uneasiness4 ,fourth ,experiment4 ,having found1 that neither an object without any relation of ideas or impressions1 nor an object1 that has only one relation1 can ever cause pride or humility1 love or hatred2 reason alone may convince us1 without any farther experiment1 that whatever has a double relation must necessarily excite these passions2 since it is evident they must have some cause4 ,but to leave as little room for doubt as possible1 let us renew our experiments1 and see whether the event in this case answers our expectation4 ,i choose an object1 such as virtue1 that causes a separate satisfaction3 ,on this object ,i bestow a relation to self2 and find1 that from this disposition of affairs1 there immediately arises a passion4 ,but what passion8 ,that very one of pride1 to which this object bears a double relation4 ,its idea is related to that of self1 the object of the passion3 ,the sensation it causes resembles the sensation of the passion4 ,that ,i may be sure ,i am not mistaken in this experiment1 ,i remove first one relation2 then another2 and find1 that each removal destroys the passion1 and leaves the object perfectly indifferent4 ,but ,i am not content with this4 ,i make a still farther trial2 and instead of removing the relation1 ,i only change it for one of a different kind4 ,i suppose the virtue to belong to my companion1 not to myself2 and observe what follows from this alteration4 ,i immediately perceive the affections wheel to about1 and leaving pride1 where there is only one relation1 viz1 of impressions1 fall to the side of love1 where they are attracted by a double relation of impressions and ideas4 ,by repeating the same experiment1 in changing anew the relation of ideas1 ,i bring the affections back to pride2 and by a new repetition ,i again place them at love or kindness4 ,being fully convinced of the influence of this relation1 ,i try the effects of the other2 and by changing virtue for vice1 convert the pleasant impression1 which arises from the former1 into the disagreeable one1 which proceeds from the latter4 ,the effect still answers expectation4 ,vice1 when placed on another1 excites1 by means of its double relations1 the passion of hatred1 instead of love1 which for the same reason arises from virtue4 ,to continue the experiment1 ,i change anew the relation of ideas1 and suppose the vice to belong to myself4 ,what follows8 ,what is usual4 ,a subsequent change of the passion from hatred to humility4 ,this humility ,i convert into pride by a new change of the impression2 and find after all that ,i have compleated the round1 and have by these changes brought back the passion to that very situation1 in which ,i first found it4 ,but to make the matter still more certain1 ,i alter the object2 and instead of vice and virtue1 make the trial upon beauty and deformity1 riches and poverty1 power and servitude4 ,each of these objects runs the circle of the passions in the same manner1 by a change of their relations3 ,and in whatever order we proceed1 whether through pride1 love1 hatred1 humility1 or through humility1 hatred1 love1 pride1 the experiment is not in the least diversifyed4 ,esteem and contempt1 indeed1 arise on some occasions instead of love and hatred2 but these are at the bottom the same passions1 only diversifyed by some causes1 which we shall explain afterwards4 ,fifth ,experiment4 ,to give greater authority to these experiments1 let us change the situation of affairs as much as possible1 and place the passions and objects in all the different positions1 of which they are susceptible4 ,let us suppose1 beside the relations above-mentioned1 that the person1 along with whom ,i make all these experiments1 is closely connected with me either by blood or friendship4 ,he is1 we shall suppose1 my son or brother1 or is united to me by a long and familiar acquaintance4 ,let us next suppose1 that the cause of the passion acquires a double relation of impressions and ideas to this person2 and let us see what the effects are of all these complicated attractions and relations4 ,before we consider what they are in fact1 let us determine what they ought to be1 conformable to my hypothesis4 ,it is plain1 that1 according as the impression is either pleasant or uneasy1 the passion of love or hatred must arise towards the person1 who is thus connected to the cause of the impression by these double relations1 which ,i have all along required4 ,the virtue of a brother must make me love him2 as his vice or infamy must excite the contrary passion4 ,but to judge only from the situation of affairs1 ,i should not expect1 that the affections would rest there1 and never transfuse themselves into any other impression4 ,as there is here a person1 who by means of a double relation is the object of my passion1 the very same reasoning leads me to think the passion will be carryed farther4 ,the person has a relation of ideas to myself1 according to the supposition2 the passion1 of which he is the object1 by being either agreeable or uneasy1 has a relation of impressions to pride or humility4 ,it is evident1 then1 that one of these passions must arise from the love or hatred4 ,this is the reasoning ,i form in conformity to my hypothesis2 and am pleased to find upon trial that every thing answers exactly to my expectation4 ,the virtue or vice of a son or brother not only excites love or hatred1 but by a new transition1 from similar causes1 gives rise to pride or humility4 ,nothing causes greater vanity than any shining quality in our relations2 as nothing mortifies us more than their vice or infamy4 ,this exact conformity of experience to our reasoning is a convincing proof of the solidity of that hypothesis1 upon which we reason4 ,sixth ,experiment4 ,this evidence will be still augmented1 if we reverse the experiment1 and preserving still the same relations1 begin only with a different passion4 ,suppose1 that instead of the virtue or vice of a son or brother1 which causes first love or hatred1 and afterwards pride or humility1 we place these good or bad qualities on ourselves1 without any immediate connexion with the person1 who is related to us3 ,experience shews us1 that by this change of situation the whole chain is broke1 and that the mind is not conveyed from one passion to another1 as in the preceding instance4 ,we never love or hate a son or brother for the virtue or vice we discern in ourselves2 though it is evident the same qualities in him give us a very sensible pride or humility4 ,the transition from pride or humility to love or hatred is not so natural as from love or hatred to pride or humility4 ,this may at first sight be esteemed contrary to my hypothesis2 since the relations of impressions and ideas are in both cases precisely the same4 ,pride and humility are impressions related to love and hatred4 ,myself am related to the person4 ,it should1 therefore1 be expected1 that like causes must produce like effects1 and a perfect transition arise from the double relation1 as in all other cases4 ,this difficulty we may easily solve by the following reflections4 ,it is evident1 that as we are at all times intimately conscious of ourselves1 our sentiments and passions1 their ideas must strike upon us with greater vivacity than the ideas of the sentiments and passions of any other person4 ,but every thing1 that strikes upon us with vivacity1 and appears in a full and strong light1 forces itself1 in a manner1 into our consideration1 and becomes present to the mind on the smallest hint and most trivial relation4 ,for the same reason1 when it is once present1 it engages the attention1 and keeps it from wandering to other objects1 however strong may be their relation to our first object4 ,the imagination passes easily from obscure to lively ideas1 but with difficulty from lively to obscure4 ,in the one case the relation is aided by another principle3 ,in the other case1 it is opposed by it4 ,now ,i have observed1 that those two faculties of the mind1 the imagination and passions1 assist each other in their operations when their propensities are similar1 and when they act upon the same object4 ,the mind has always a propensity to pass from a passion to any other related to it2 and this propensity is forwarded when the object of the one passion is related to that of the other4 ,the two impulses concur with each other1 and render the whole transition more smooth and easy4 ,but if it should happen1 that while the relation of ideas1 strictly speaking1 continues the same1 its influence1 in causing a transition of the imagination1 should no longer take place1 it is evident its influence on the passions must also cease1 as being dependent entirely on that transition4 ,this is the reason why pride or humility is not transfused into love or hatred with the same ease1 that the latter passions are changed into the former4 ,if a person be my brother ,i am his likewise3 but though the relations be reciprocal they have very different effects on the imagination4 ,the passage is smooth and open from the consideration of any person related to us to that of ourself1 of whom we are every moment conscious4 ,but when the affections are once directed to ourself1 the fancy passes not with the same facility from that object to any other person1 how closely so ever connected with us4 ,this easy or difficult transition of the imagination operates upon the passions1 and facilitates or retards their transition1 which is a clear proof1 that these two faculties of the passions and imagination are connected together1 and that the relations of ideas have an influence upon the affections4 ,besides innumerable experiments that prove this1 we here find1 that even when the relation remains2 if by any particular circumstance its usual effect upon the fancy in producing an association or transition of ideas1 is prevented2 its usual effect upon the passions1 in conveying us from one to another1 is in like manner prevented4 ,some may1 perhaps1 find a contradiction betwixt this phnomenon and that of sympathy1 where the mind passes easily from the idea of ourselves to that of any other object related to us4 ,but this difficulty will vanish1 if we consider that in sympathy our own person is not the object of any passion1 nor is there any thing1 that fixes our attention on ourselves2 as in the present case1 where we are supposed to be actuated with pride or humility4 ,ourself1 independent of the perception of every other object1 is in reality nothing3 ,for which reason we must turn our view to external objects2 and it is natural for us to consider with most attention such as lie contiguous to us1 or resemble us4 ,but when self is the object of a passion1 it is not natural to quit the consideration of it1 till the passion be exhausted3 in which case the double relations of impressions and ideas can no longer operate4 ,seventh ,experiment4 ,to put this whole reasoning to a farther trial1 let us make a new experiment2 and as we have already seen the effects of related passions and ideas1 let us here suppose an identity of passions along with a relation of ideas2 and let us consider the effects of this new situation4 ,it is evident a transition of the passions from the one object to the other is here in all reason to be expected2 since the relation of ideas is supposed still to continue1 and identity of impressions must produce a stronger connexion1 than the most perfect resemblance1 that can be imagined4 ,if a double relation1 therefore1 of impressions and ideas is able to produce a transition from one to the other1 much more an identity of impressions with a relation of ideas4 ,accordingly we find1 that when we either love or hate any person1 the passions seldom continue within their first bounds2 but extend themselves towards all the contiguous objects1 and comprehend the friends and relations of him we love or hate4 ,nothing is more natural than to bear a kindness to one brother on account of our friendship for another1 without any farther examination of his character4 ,a quarrel with one person gives us a hatred for the whole family1 though entirely innocent of that1 which displeases us4 ,instances of this kind are everywhere to be met with4 ,there is only one difficulty in this experiment1 which it will be necessary to account for1 before we proceed any farther4 ,it is evident1 that though all passions pass easily from one object to another related to it1 yet this transition is made with greater facility1 where the more considerable object is first presented1 and the lesser follows it1 than where this order is reversed1 and the lesser takes the precedence4 ,thus it is more natural for us to love the son upon account of the father1 than the father upon account of the son2 the servant for the master1 than the master for the servant2 the subject for the prince1 than the prince for the subject4 ,in like manner we more readily contract a hatred against a whole family1 where our first quarrel is with the head of it1 than where we are displeased with a son1 or servant1 or some inferior member4 ,in short1 our passions1 like other objects1 descend with greater facility than they ascend4 ,that we may comprehend1 wherein consists the difficulty of explaining this phnomenon1 we must consider1 that the very same reason1 which determines the imagination to pass from remote to contiguous objects1 with more facility than from contiguous to remote1 causes it likewise to change with more ease1 the less for the greater1 than the greater for the less4 ,whatever has the greatest influence is most taken notice of2 and whatever is most taken notice of1 presents itself most readily to the imagination4 ,we are more apt to over-look in any subject1 what is trivial1 than what appears of considerable moment2 but especially if the latter takes the precedence1 and first engages our attention4 ,thus if any accident makes us consider the ,satellites of ,,jupiter1 our fancy is naturally determined to form the idea of that planet2 but if we first reflect on the principal planet1 it is more natural for us to overlook its attendants4 ,the mention of the provinces of any empire conveys our thought to the seat of the empire2 but the fancy returns not with the same facility to the consideration of the provinces4 ,the idea of the servant makes us think of the master2 that of the subject carries our view to the prince4 ,but the same relation has not an equal influence in conveying us back again4 ,and on this is founded that reproach of ,cornelia to her sons1 that they ought to be ashamed she should be more known by the title of the daughter of ,scipio than by that of the mother of the ,gracchi4 ,this was1 in other words1 exhorting them to render themselves as illustrious and famous as their grandfather1 otherwise the imagination of the people1 passing from her who was intermediate1 and placed in an equal relation to both1 would always leave them1 and denominate her by what was more considerable and of greater moment4 ,on the same principle is founded that common custom of making wives bear the name of their husbands1 rather than husbands that of their wives2 as also the ceremony of giving the precedency to those1 whom we honour and respect4 ,we might find many other instances to confirm this principle1 were it not already sufficiently evident4 ,now since the fancy finds the same facility in passing from the lesser to the greater1 as from remote to contiguous1 why does not this easy transition of ideas assist the transition of passions in the former case1 as well as in the latter8 ,the virtues of a friend or brother produce first love1 and then pride2 because in that case the imagination passes from remote to contiguous1 according to its propensity4 ,our own virtues produce not first pride1 and then love to a friend or brother2 because the passage in that case would be from contiguous to remote1 contrary to its propensity4 ,but the love or hatred of an inferior causes not readily any passion to the superior1 though that be the natural propensity of the imagination3 ,while the love or hatred of a superior1 causes a passion to the inferior1 contrary to its propensity4 ,in short1 the same facility of transition operates not in the same manner upon superior and inferior as upon contiguous and remote4 ,these two phaenomena appear contradictory1 and require some attention to be reconciled4 ,as the transition of ideas is here made contrary to the natural propensity of the imagination1 that faculty must be overpowered by some stronger principle of another kind2 and as there is nothing ever present to the mind but impressions and ideas1 this principle must necessarily lie in the impressions4 ,now it has been observed1 that impressions or passions are connected only by their resemblance1 and that where any two passions place the mind in the same or in similar dispositions1 it very naturally passes from the one to the other3 ,as on the contrary1 a repugnance in the dispositions produces a difficulty in the transition of the passions4 ,but it is observable1 that this repugnance may arise from a difference of degree as well as of kind2 nor do we experience a greater difficulty in passing suddenly from a small degree of love to a small degree of hatred1 than from a small to a great degree of either of these affections4 ,a man1 when calm or only moderately agitated1 is so different1 in every respect1 from himself1 when disturbed with a violent passion1 that no two persons can be more unlike2 nor is it easy to pass from the one extreme to the other1 without a considerable interval betwixt them4 ,the difficulty is not less1 if it be not rather greater1 in passing from the strong passion to the weak1 than in passing from the weak to the strong1 provided the one passion upon its appearance destroys the other1 and they do not both of them exist at once4 ,but the case is entirely altered1 when the passions unite together1 and actuate the mind at the same time4 ,a weak passion1 when added to a strong1 makes not so considerable a change in the disposition1 as a strong when added to a weak2 for which reason there is a closer connexion betwixt the great degree and the small1 than betwixt the small degree and the great4 ,the degree of any passion depends upon the nature of its object2 and an affection directed to a person1 who is considerable in our eyes1 fills and possesses the mind much more than one1 which has for its object a person we esteem of less consequence4 ,here then the contradiction betwixt the propensities of the imagination and passion displays itself4 ,when we turn our thought to a great and a small object1 the imagination finds more facility in passing from the small to the great1 than from the great to the small2 but the affections find a greater difficulty3 ,and as the affections are a more powerful principle than the imagination1 no wonder they prevail over it1 and draw the mind to their side4 ,in spite of the difficulty of passing from the idea of great to that of little1 a passion directed to the former1 produces always a similar passion towards the latter2 when the great and little are related together4 ,the idea of the servant conveys our thought most readily to the master2 but the hatred or love of the master produces with greater facility anger or good-will to the servant4 ,the strongest passion in this case takes the precedence2 and the addition of the weaker making no considerable change on the disposition1 the passage is by that means rendered more easy and natural betwixt them4 ,as in the foregoing experiment we found1 that a relation of ideas1 which1 by any particular circumstance1 ceases to produce its usual effect of facilitating the transition of ideas1 ceases likewise to operate on the passions2 so in the present experiment we find the same property of the impressions4 ,two different degrees of the same passion are surely related together2 but if the smaller be first present1 it has little or no tendency to introduce the greater2 and that because the addition of the great to the little1 produces a more sensible alteration on the temper1 than the addition of the little to the great4 ,these phaenomena1 when duly weighed1 will be found convincing proofs of this hypothesis4 ,and these proofs will be confirmed1 if we consider the manner in which the mind here reconciles the contradiction1 ,i have observed betwixt the passions and the imagination4 ,the fancy passes with more facility from the less to the greater1 than from the greater to the less3 ,but on the contrary a violent passion produces more easily a feeble1 than that does a violent4 ,in this opposition the passion in the end prevails over the imagination2 but it is commonly by complying with it1 and by seeking another quality1 which may counter-ballance that principle1 from whence the opposition arises4 ,when we love the father or master of a family1 we little think of his children or servants4 ,but when these are present with us1 or when it lies any ways in our power to serve them1 the nearness and contiguity in this case encreases their magnitude1 or at least removes that opposition1 which the fancy makes to the transition of the affections4 ,if the imagination finds a difficulty in passing from greater to less1 it finds an equal facility in passing from remote to contiguous1 which brings the matter to an equality1 and leaves the way open from the one passion to the other4 ,eighth ,experiment4 ,i have observed that the transition from love or hatred to pride or humility1 is more easy than from pride or humility to love or hatred2 and that the difficulty1 which the imagination finds in passing from contiguous to remote1 is the cause why we scarce have any instance of the latter transition of the affections4 ,i must1 however1 make one exception1 viz1 when the very cause of the pride and humility is placed in some other person4 ,for in that case the imagination is necessitated to consider the person1 nor can it possibly confine its view to ourselves4 ,thus nothing more readily produces kindness and affection to any person1 than his approbation of our conduct and character3 ,as on the other hand1 nothing inspires us with a stronger hatred1 than his blame or contempt4 ,here it is evident1 that the original passion is pride or humility1 whose object is self2 and that this passion is transfused into love or hatred1 whose object is some other person1 notwithstanding the rule ,i have already established1 ,,that ,,the ,,imagination ,,passes ,,with ,,difficulty ,,from ,,contiguous ,,to ,,remote4 ,but the transition in this case is not made merely on account of the relation betwixt ourselves and the person2 but because that very person is the real cause of our first passion1 and of consequence is intimately connected with it4 ,it is his approbation that produces pride2 and disapprobation1 humility4 ,no wonder1 then1 the imagination returns back again attended with the related passions of love and hatred4 ,this is not a contradiction1 but an exception to the rule2 and an exception that arises from the same reason with the rule itself4 ,such an exception as this is1 therefore1 rather a confirmation of the rule4 ,and indeed1 if we consider all the eight experiments ,i have explained1 we shall find that the same principle appears in all of them1 and that it is by means of a transition arising from a double relation of impressions and ideas1 pride and humility1 love and hatred are produced4 ,an object without#a a relation1 or#b with but one1 never produces either of these passions2 and it is#c found that the passion always varies in conformity to the relation4 ,nay we may observe1 that where the relation1 by any particular circumstance1 has not its usual effect of producing a transition either of#d ideas or of impressions1 it ceases to operate upon the passions1 and gives rise neither to pride nor love1 humility nor hatred4 ,this rule we find still to hold good1#e even under the appearance of its contrary2 and as relation is frequently experienced to have no effect2 which upon examination is found to proceed from some particular circumstance1 that prevents the transition2 so even in instances1 where that circumstance1 though present1 prevents not the transition1 it is found to arise from some other circumstance1 which counter-balances it4 ,thus not only the variations resolve themselves into the general principle1 but even the variations of these variations4 #a ,first ,experiment4 #b ,second and ,third ,experiments4 #c ,fourth ,experiment4 #d ,sixth ,experiment4 #e ,seventh and ,eighth ,experiments4 ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,difficulties ,,solved ,after so many and such undeniable proofs drawn from daily experience and observation1 it may seem superfluous to enter into a particular examination of all the causes of love and hatred4 ,i shall1 therefore1 employ the sequel of this part1 ,first1 ,in removing some difficulties1 concerning particular causes of these passions4 ,secondly1 ,in examining the compound affections1 which arise from the mixture of love and hatred with other emotions4 ,nothing is more evident1 than that any person acquires our kindness1 or is exposed to our ill-will1 in proportion to the pleasure or uneasiness we receive from him1 and that the passions keep pace exactly with the sensations in all their changes and variations4 ,whoever can find the means either by his services1 his beauty1 or his flattery1 to render himself useful or agreeable to us1 is sure of our affections3 ,as on the other hand1 whoever harms or displeases us never fails to excite our anger or hatred4 ,when our own nation is at war with any other1 we detest them under the character of cruel1 perfidious1 unjust and violent3 ,but always esteem ourselves and allies equitable1 moderate1 and merciful4 ,if the general of our enemies be successful1 it is with difficulty we allow him the figure and character of a man4 ,he is a sorcerer3 ,he has a communication with daemons2 as is reported of ,,oliver ,,cromwell1 and the ,,duke ,,of ,,luxembourg3 ,he is bloody-minded1 and takes a pleasure in death and destruction4 ,but if the success be on our side1 our commander has all the opposite good qualities1 and is a pattern of virtue1 as well as of courage and conduct4 ,his treachery we call policy3 ,his cruelty is an evil inseparable from war4 ,in short1 every one of his faults we either endeavour to extenuate1 or dignify it with the name of that virtue1 which approaches it4 ,it is evident the same method of thinking runs through common life4 ,there are some1 who add another condition1 and require not only that the pain and pleasure arise from the person1 but likewise that it arise knowingly1 and with a particular design and intention4 ,a man1 who wounds and harms us by accident1 becomes not our enemy upon that account1 nor do we think ourselves bound by any ties of gratitude to one1 who does us any service after the same manner4 ,by the intention we judge of the actions1 and according as that is good or bad1 they become causes of love or hatred4 ,but here we must make a distinction4 ,if that quality in another1 which pleases or displeases1 be constant and inherent in his person and character1 it will cause love or hatred independent of the intention3 ,but otherwise a knowledge and design is requisite1 in order to give rise to these passions4 ,one that is disagreeable by his deformity or folly is the object of our aversion1 though nothing be more certain1 than that he has not the least intention of displeasing us by these qualities4 ,but if the uneasiness proceed not from a quality1 but an action1 which is produced and annihilated in a moment1 it is necessary1 in order to produce some relation1 and connect this action sufficiently with the person1 that it be derived from a particular fore-thought and design4 ,it is not enough1 that the action arise from the person1 and have him for its immediate cause and author4 ,this relation alone is too feeble and inconstant to be a foundation for these passions4 ,it reaches not the sensible and thinking part1 and neither proceeds from any thing durable in him1 nor leaves any thing behind it2 but passes in a moment1 and is as if it had never been4 ,on the other hand1 an intention shews certain qualities1 which remaining after the action is performed1 connect it with the person1 and facilitate the transition of ideas from one to the other4 ,we can never think of him without reflecting on these qualities2 unless repentance and a change of life have produced an alteration in that respect3 ,in which case the passion is likewise altered4 ,this therefore is one reason1 why an intention is requisite to excite either love or hatred4 ,but we must farther consider1 that an intention1 besides its strengthening the relation of ideas1 is often necessary to produce a relation of impressions1 and give rise to pleasure and uneasiness4 ,for it is observable1 that the principal part of an injury is the contempt and hatred1 which it shews in the person1 that injures us2 and without that1 the mere harm gives us a less sensible uneasiness4 ,in like manner1 a good office is agreeable1 chiefly because it flatters our vanity1 and is a proof of the kindness and esteem of the person1 who performs it4 ,the removal of the intention1 removes the mortification in the one case1 and vanity in the other1 and must of course cause a remarkable diminution in the passions of love and hatred4 ,i grant1 that these effects of the removal of design1 in diminishing the relations of impressions and ideas1 are not entire1 nor able to remove every degree of these relations4 ,but then ,i ask1 if the removal of design be able entirely to remove the passion of love and hatred8 ,experience1 ,i am sure1 informs us of the contrary1 nor is there any thing more certain1 than that men often fall into a violent anger for injuries1 which they themselves must own to be entirely involuntary and accidental4 ,this emotion1 indeed1 cannot be of long continuance2 but still is sufficient to shew1 that there is a natural connexion betwixt uneasiness and anger1 and that the relation of impressions will operate upon a very small relation of ideas4 ,but when the violence of the impression is once a little abated1 the defect of the relation begins to be better felt2 and as the character of a person is no wise interested in such injuries as are casual and involuntary1 it seldom happens that on their account1 we entertain a lasting enmity4 ,to illustrate this doctrine by a parallel instance1 we may observe1 that not only the uneasiness1 which proceeds from another by accident1 has but little force to excite our passion1 but also that which arises from an acknowledged necessity and duty4 ,one that has a real design of harming us1 proceeding not from hatred and ill-will1 but from justice and equity1 draws not upon him our anger1 if we be in any degree reasonable2 notwithstanding he is both the cause1 and the knowing cause of our sufferings4 ,let us examine a little this phnomenon4 ,it is evident in the first place1 that this circumstance is not decisive2 and though it may be able to diminish the passions1 it is seldom it can entirely remove them4 ,how few criminals are there1 who have no ill-will to the person1 that accuses them1 or to the judge1 that condemns them1 even though they be conscious of their own deserts8 ,in like manner our antagonist in a law-suit1 and our competitor for any office1 are commonly regarded as our enemies2 though we must acknowledge1 if we would but reflect a moment1 that their motive is entirely as justifiable as our own4 ,besides we may consider1 that when we receive harm from any person1 we are apt to imagine him criminal1 and it is with extreme difficulty we allow of his justice and innocence4 ,this is a clear proof1 that1 independent of the opinion of iniquity1 any harm or uneasiness has a natural tendency to excite our hatred1 and that afterwards we seek for reasons upon which we may justify and establish the passion4 ,here the idea of injury produces not the passion1 but arises from it4 ,nor is it any wonder that passion should produce the opinion of injury2 since otherwise it must suffer a considerable diminution1 which all the passions avoid as much as possible4 ,the removal of injury may remove the anger1 without proving that the anger arises only from the injury4 ,the harm and the justice are two contrary objects1 of which the one has a tendency to produce hatred1 and the other love2 and it is according to their different degrees1 and our particular turn of thinking1 that either of the objects prevails1 and excites its proper passion4 ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,the ,,love ,,of ,,relations ,having given a reason1 why several actions1 that cause a real pleasure or uneasiness1 excite not any degree1 or but a small one1 of the passion of love or hatred towards the actors2 it will be necessary to shew1 wherein consists the pleasure or uneasiness of many objects1 which we find by experience to produce these passions4 ,according to the preceding system there is always required a double relation of impressions and ideas betwixt the cause and effect1 in order to produce either love or hatred4 ,but though this be universally true1 it is remarkable that the passion of love may be excited by only one relation of a different kind1 viz1 betwixt ourselves and the object2 or more properly speaking1 that this relation is always attended with both the others4 ,whoever is united to us by any connexion is always sure of a share of our love1 proportioned to the connexion1 without enquiring into his other qualities4 ,thus the relation of blood produces the strongest tie the mind is capable of in the love of parents to their children1 and a lesser degree of the same affection1 as the relation lessens4 ,nor has consanguinity alone this effect1 but any other relation without exception4 ,we love our country-men1 our neighbours1 those of the same trade1 profession1 and even name with ourselves4 ,every one of these relations is esteemed some tie1 and gives a title to a share of our affection4 ,there is another phnomenon1 which is parallel to this1 viz1 that acquaintance1 without any kind of relation1 gives rise to love and kindness4 ,when we have contracted a habitude and intimacy with any person2 though in frequenting his company we have not been able to discover any very valuable quality1 of which he is possessed2 yet we cannot forebear preferring him to strangers1 of whose superior merit we are fully convinced4 ,these two phaenomena of the effects of relation and acquaintance will give mutual light to each other1 and may be both explained from the same principle4 ,those1 who take a pleasure in declaiming against human nature1 have observed1 that man is altogether insufficient to support himself2 and that when you loosen all the holds1 which he has of external objects1 he immediately drops down into the deepest melancholy and despair4 ,from this1 say they1 proceeds that continual search after amusement in gaming1 in hunting1 in business2 by which we endeavour to forget ourselves1 and excite our spirits from the languid state1 into which they fall1 when not sustained by some brisk and lively emotion4 ,to this method of thinking ,i so far agree1 that ,i own the mind to be insufficient1 of itself1 to its own entertainment1 and that it naturally seeks after foreign objects1 which may produce a lively sensation1 and agitate the spirits4 ,on the appearance of such an object it awakes1 as it were1 from a dream3 ,the blood flows with a new tide3 ,the heart is elevated3 ,and the whole man acquires a vigour1 which he cannot command in his solitary and calm moments4 ,hence company is naturally so rejoicing1 as presenting the liveliest of all objects1 viz1 a rational and thinking ,being like ourselves1 who communicates to us all the actions of his mind2 makes us privy to his inmost sentiments and affections2 and lets us see1 in the very instant of their production1 all the emotions1 which are caused by any object4 ,every lively idea is agreeable1 but especially that of a passion1 because such an idea becomes a kind of passion1 and gives a more sensible agitation to the mind1 than any other image or conception4 ,this being once admitted1 all the rest is easy4 ,for as the company of strangers is agreeable to us for a short time1 by inlivening our thought2 so the company of our relations and acquaintance must be peculiarly agreeable1 because it has this effect in a greater degree1 and is of more durable influence4 ,whatever is related to us is conceived in a lively manner by the easy transition from ourselves to the related object4 ,custom also1 or acquaintance facilitates the entrance1 and strengthens the conception of any object4 ,the first case is parallel to our reasonings from cause and effect2 the second to education4 ,and as reasoning and education concur only in producing a lively and strong idea of any object2 so is this the only particular1 which is common to relation and acquaintance4 ,this must1 therefore1 be the influencing quality1 by which they produce all their common effects2 and love or kindness being one of these effects1 it must be from the force and liveliness of conception1 that the passion is derived4 ,such a conception is peculiarly agreeable1 and makes us have an affectionate regard for every thing1 that produces it1 when the proper object of kindness and goodwill4 ,it is obvious1 that people associate together according to their particular tempers and dispositions1 and that men of gay tempers naturally love the gay2 as the serious bear an affection to the serious4 ,this not only happens1 where they remark this resemblance betwixt themselves and others1 but also by the natural course of the disposition1 and by a certain sympathy1 which always arises betwixt similar characters4 ,where they remark the resemblance1 it operates after the manner of a relation1 by producing a connexion of ideas4 ,where they do not remark it1 it operates by some other principle2 and if this latter principle be similar to the former1 it must be received as a confirmation of the foregoing reasoning4 ,the idea of ourselves is always intimately present to us1 and conveys a sensible degree of vivacity to the idea of any other object1 to which we are related4 ,this lively idea changes by degrees into a real impression2 these two kinds of perception being in a great measure the same1 and differing only in their degrees of force and vivacity4 ,but this change must be produced with the greater ease1 that our natural temper gives us a propensity to the same impression1 which we observe in others1 and makes it arise upon any slight occasion4 ,in that case resemblance converts the idea into an impression1 not only by means of the relation1 and by transfusing the original vivacity into the related idea2 but also by presenting such materials as take fire from the least spark4 ,and as in both cases a love or affection arises from the resemblance1 we may learn that a sympathy with others is agreeable only by giving an emotion to the spirits1 since an easy sympathy and correspondent emotions are alone common to ,,relation1 ,,acquaintance1 and ,,resemblance4 ,the great propensity men have to pride may be considered as another similar phnomenon4 ,it often happens1 that after we have lived a considerable time in any city2 however at first it might be disagreeable to us2 yet as we become familiar with the objects1 and contact an acquaintance1 though merely with the streets and buildings1 the aversion diminishes by degrees1 and at last changes into the opposite passion4 ,the mind finds a satisfaction and ease in the view of objects1 to which it is accustomed1 and naturally prefers them to others1 which1 though1 perhaps1 in themselves more valuable1 are less known to it4 ,by the same quality of the mind we are seduced into a good opinion of ourselves1 and of all objects1 that belong to us4 ,they appear in a stronger light2 are more agreeable2 and consequently fitter subjects of pride and vanity1 than any other4 ,it may not be amiss1 in treating of the affection we bear our acquaintance and relations1 to observe some pretty curious phaenomena1 which attend it4 ,it is easy to remark in common life1 that children esteem their relation to their mother to be weakened1 in a great measure1 by her second marriage1 and no longer regard her with the same eye1 as if she had continued in her state of widow-hood4 ,nor does this happen only1 when they have felt any inconveniences from her second marriage1 or when her husband is much her inferior2 but even without any of these considerations1 and merely because she has become part of another family4 ,this also takes place with regard to the second marriage of a father2 but in a much less degree3 ,and it is certain the ties of blood are not so much loosened in the latter case as by the marriage of a mother4 ,these two phaenomena are remarkable in themselves1 but much more so when compared4 ,in order to produce a perfect relation betwixt two objects1 it is requisite1 not only that the imagination be conveyed from one to the other by resemblance1 contiguity or causation1 but also that it return back from the second to the first with the same ease and facility4 ,at first sight this may seem a necessary and unavoidable consequence4 ,if one object resemble another1 the latter object must necessarily resemble the former4 ,if one object be the cause of another1 the second object is effect to its cause4 ,it is the same case with contiguity3 ,and therefore the relation being always reciprocal1 it may be thought1 that the return of the imagination from the second to the first must also1 in every case1 be equally natural as its passage from the first to the second4 ,but upon farther examination we shall easily discover our mistake4 ,for supposing the second object1 beside its reciprocal relation to the first1 to have also a strong relation to a third object2 in that case the thought1 passing from the first object to the second1 returns not back with the same facility1 though the relation continues the same2 but is readily carryed on to the third object1 by means of the new relation1 which presents itself1 and gives a new impulse to the imagination4 ,this new relation1 therefore1 weakens the tie betwixt the first and second objects4 ,the fancy is by its very nature wavering and inconstant2 and considers always two objects as more strongly related together1 where it finds the passage equally easy both in going and returning1 than where the transition is easy only in one of these motions4 ,the double motion is a kind of a double tie1 and binds the objects together in the closest and most intimate manner4 ,the second marriage of a mother breaks not the relation of child and parent2 and that relation suffices to convey my imagination from myself to her with the greatest ease and facility4 ,but after the imagination is arrived at this point of view1 it finds its object to be surrounded with so many other relations1 which challenge its regard1 that it knows not which to prefer1 and is at a loss what new object to pitch upon4 ,the ties of interest and duty bind her to another family1 and prevent that return of the fancy from her to myself1 which is necessary to support the union4 ,the thought has no longer the vibration1 requisite to set it perfectly at ease1 and indulge its inclination to change4 ,it goes with facility1 but returns with difficulty2 and by that interruption finds the relation much weakened from what it would be were the passage open and easy on both sides4 ,now to give a reason1 why this effect follows not in the same degree upon the second marriage of a father3 we may reflect on what has been proved already1 that though the imagination goes easily from the view of a lesser object to that of a greater1 yet it returns not with the same facility from the greater to the less4 ,when my imagination goes from myself to my father1 it passes not so readily from him to his second wife1 nor considers him as entering into a different family1 but as continuing the head of that family1 of which ,i am myself a part4 ,his superiority prevents the easy transition of the thought from him to his spouse1 but keeps the passage still open for a return to myself along the same relation of child and parent4 ,he is not sunk in the new relation he acquires2 so that the double motion or vibration of thought is still easy and natural4 ,by this indulgence of the fancy in its inconstancy1 the tie of child and parent still preserves its full force and influence4 ,a mother thinks not her tie to a son weakened1 because it is shared with her husband3 ,nor a son his with a parent1 because it is shared with a brother4 ,the third object is here related to the first1 as well as to the second2 so that the imagination goes and comes along all of them with the greatest facility4 ,,sect4 ,v ,,of ,,our ,,esteem ,,for ,,the ,,rich ,,and ,,powerful ,nothing has a greater tendency to give us an esteem for any person1 than his power and riches2 or a contempt1 than his poverty and meanness3 ,and as esteem and contempt are to be considered as species of love and hatred1 it will be proper in this place to explain these phaenomena4 ,here it happens most fortunately1 that the greatest difficulty is not to discover a principle capable of producing such an effect1 but to choose the chief and predominant among several1 that present themselves4 ,the satisfaction we take in the riches of others1 and the esteem we have for the possessors may be ascribed to three different causes4 ,,first1 ,to the objects they possess2 such as houses1 gardens1 equipages2 which1 being agreeable in themselves1 necessarily produce a sentiment of pleasure in every one2 that either considers or surveys them4 ,,secondly1 ,to the expectation of advantage from the rich and powerful by our sharing their possessions4 ,,thirdly1 ,to sympathy1 which makes us partake of the satisfaction of every one1 that approaches us4 ,all these principles may concur in producing the present phnomenon4 ,the question is1 to which of them we ought principally to ascribe it4 ,it is certain1 that the first principle1 viz1 the reflection on agreeable objects1 has a greater influence1 than what1 at first sight1 we may be apt to imagine4 ,we seldom reflect on what is beautiful or ugly1 agreeable or disagreeable1 without an emotion of pleasure or uneasiness2 and though these sensations appear not much in our common indolent way of thinking1 it is easy1 either in reading or conversation1 to discover them4 ,men of wit always turn the discourse on subjects that are entertaining to the imagination2 and poets never present any objects but such as are of the same nature4 ,mr ,philips has chosen ,,cyder for the subject of an excellent poem4 ,beer would not have been so proper1 as being neither so agreeable to the taste nor eye4 ,but he would certainly have preferred wine to either of them1 could his native country have afforded him so agreeable a liquor4 ,we may learn from thence1 that every thing1 which is agreeable to the senses1 is also in some measure agreeable to the fancy1 and conveys to the thought an image of that satisfaction1 which it gives by its real application to the bodily organs4 ,but though these reasons may induce us to comprehend this delicacy of the imagination among the causes of the respect1 which we pay the rich and powerful1 there are many other reasons1 that may keep us from regarding it as the sole or principal4 ,for as the ideas of pleasure can have an influence only by means of their vivacity1 which makes them approach impressions1 it is most natural those ideas should have that influence1 which are favoured by most circumstances1 and have a natural tendency to become strong and lively2 such as our ideas of the passions and sensations of any human creature4 ,every human creature resembles ourselves1 and by that means has an advantage above any other object1 in operating on the imagination4 ,besides1 if we consider the nature of that faculty1 and the great influence which all relations have upon it1 we shall easily be persuaded1 that however the ideas of the pleasant wines1 music1 or gardens1 which the rich man enjoys1 may become lively and agreeable1 the fancy will not confine itself to them1 but will carry its view to the related objects2 and in particular1 to the person1 who possesses them4 ,and this is the more natural1 that the pleasant idea or image produces here a passion towards the person1 by means of his relation to the object2 so that it is unavoidable but he must enter into the original conception1 since he makes the object of the derivative passion3 ,but if he enters into the original conception1 and is considered as enjoying these agreeable objects1 it is sympathy1 which is properly the cause of the affection2 and the third principle is more powerful and universal than the first4 ,add to this1 that riches and power alone1 even though unemployed1 naturally cause esteem and respect3 ,and consequently these passions arise not from the idea of any beautiful or agreeable objects4 ,it is true2 money implies a kind of representation of such objects1 by the power it affords of obtaining them2 and for that reason may still be esteemed proper to convey those agreeable images1 which may give rise to the passion4 ,but as this prospect is very distant1 it is more natural for us to take a contiguous object1 viz1 the satisfaction1 which this power affords the person1 who is possest of it4 ,and of this we shall be farther satisfyed1 if we consider1 that riches represent the goods of life1 only by means of the will2 which employs them2 and therefore imply in their very nature an idea of the person1 and cannot be considered without a kind of sympathy with his sensations and enjoyments4 ,this we may confirm by a reflection1 which to some will1 perhaps1 appear too subtile and refined4 ,i have already observed1 that power1 as distinguished from its exercise1 has either no meaning at all1 or is nothing but a possibility or probability of existence2 by which any object approaches to reality1 and has a sensible influence on the mind4 ,i have also observed1 that this approach1 by an illusion of the fancy1 appears much greater1 when we ourselves are possest of the power1 than when it is enjoyed by another2 and that in the former case the objects seem to touch upon the very verge of reality1 and convey almost an equal satisfaction1 as if actually in our possession4 ,now ,i assert1 that where we esteem a person upon account of his riches1 we must enter into this sentiment of the proprietor1 and that without such a sympathy the idea of the agreeable objects1 which they give him the power to produce1 would have but a feeble influence upon us4 ,an avaricious man is respected for his money1 though he scarce is possest of a power2 that is1 there scarce is a probability or even possibility of his employing it in the acquisition of the pleasures and conveniences of life4 ,to himself alone this power seems perfect and entire2 and therefore we must receive his sentiments by sympathy1 before we can have a strong intense idea of these enjoyments1 or esteem him upon account of them4 ,thus we have found1 that the first principle1 viz1 the agreeable idea of those objects1 which riches afford the enjoyment of2 resolves itself in a great measure into the third1 and becomes a sympathy with the person we esteem or love4 ,let us now examine the second principle1 viz1 the agreeable expectation of advantage1 and see what force we may justly attribute to it4 ,it is obvious1 that though riches and authority undoubtedly give their owner a power of doing us service1 yet this power is not to be considered as on the same footing with that1 which they afford him1 of pleasing himself1 and satisfying his own appetites4 ,self-love approaches the power and exercise very near each other in the latter case2 but in order to produce a similar effect in the former1 we must suppose a friendship and good-will to be conjoined with the riches4 ,without that circumstance it is difficult to conceive on what we can found our hope of advantage from the riches of others1 though there is nothing more certain1 than that we naturally esteem and respect the rich1 even before we discover in them any such favourable disposition towards us4 ,but ,i carry this farther1 and observe1 not only that we respect the rich and powerful1 where they shew no inclination to serve us1 but also when we lie so much out of the sphere of their activity1 that they cannot even be supposed to be endowed with that power4 ,prisoners of war are always treated with a respect suitable to their condition2 and it is certain riches go very far towards fixing the condition of any person4 ,if birth and quality enter for a share1 this still affords us an argument of the same kind4 ,for what is it we call a man of birth1 but one who is descended from a long succession of rich and powerful ancestors1 and who acquires our esteem by his relation to persons whom we esteem8 ,his ancestors1 therefore1 though dead1 are respected1 in some measure1 on account of their riches1 and consequently without any kind of expectation4 ,but not to go so far as prisoners of war and the dead to find instances of this disinterested esteem for riches1 let us observe with a little attention those phaenomena that occur to us in common life and conversation4 ,a man1 who is himself of a competent fortune1 upon coming into a company of strangers1 naturally treats them with different degrees of respect and deference1 as he is informed of their different fortunes and conditions2 though it is impossible he can ever propose1 and perhaps would not accept of any advantage from them4 ,a traveller is always admitted into company1 and meets with civility1 in proportion as his train and equipage speak him a man of great or moderate fortune4 ,in short1 the different ranks of men are1 in a great measure1 regulated by riches1 and that with regard to superiors as well as inferiors1 strangers as well as acquaintance4 ,there is1 indeed1 an answer to these arguments1 drawn from the influence of general rules4 ,it may be pretended1 that being accustomed to expect succour and protection from the rich and powerful1 and to esteem them upon that account1 we extend the same sentiments to those1 who resemble them in their fortune1 but from whom we can never hope for any advantage4 ,the general rule still prevails1 and by giving a bent to the imagination draws along the passion1 in the same manner as if its proper object were real and existent4 ,but that this principle does not here take place1 will easily appear1 if we consider1 that in order to establish a general rule1 and extend it beyond its proper bounds1 there is required a certain uniformity in our experience1 and a great superiority of those instances1 which are conformable to the rule1 above the contrary4 ,but here the case is quite otherwise4 ,of a hundred men of credit and fortune ,i meet with1 there is not1 perhaps1 one from whom ,i can expect advantage2 so that it is impossible any custom can ever prevail in the present case4 ,upon the whole1 there remains nothing1 which can give us an esteem for power and riches1 and a contempt for meanness and poverty1 except the principle of sympathy1 by which we enter into the sentiments of the rich and poor1 and partake of their pleasure and uneasiness4 ,riches give satisfaction to their possessor2 and this satisfaction is conveyed to the beholder by the imagination1 which produces an idea resembling the original impression in force and vivacity4 ,this agreeable idea or impression is connected with love1 which is an agreeable passion4 ,it proceeds from a thinking conscious being1 which is the very object of love4 ,from this relation of impressions1 and identity of ideas1 the passion arises1 according to my hypothesis4 ,the best method of reconciling us to this opinion is to take a general survey of the universe1 and observe the force of sympathy through the whole animal creation1 and the easy communication of sentiments from one thinking being to another4 ,in all creatures1 that prey not upon others1 and are not agitated with violent passions1 there appears a remarkable desire of company1 which associates them together1 without any advantages they can ever propose to reap from their union4 ,this is still more conspicuous in man1 as being the creature of the universe1 who has the most ardent desire of society1 and is fitted for it by the most advantages4 ,we can form no wish1 which has not a reference to society4 ,a perfect solitude is1 perhaps1 the greatest punishment we can suffer4 ,every pleasure languishes when enjoyed a-part from company1 and every pain becomes more cruel and intolerable4 ,whatever other passions we may be actuated by2 pride1 ambition1 avarice1 curiosity1 revenge or lust2 the soul or animating principle of them all is sympathy2 nor would they have any force1 were we to abstract entirely from the thoughts and sentiments of others4 ,let all the powers and elements of nature conspire to serve and obey one man3 ,let the sun rise and set at his command3 ,the sea and rivers roll as he pleases1 and the earth furnish spontaneously whatever may be useful or agreeable to him3 ,he will still be miserable1 till you give him some one person at least1 with whom he may share his happiness1 and whose esteem and friendship he may enjoy4 ,this conclusion from a general view of human nature1 we may confirm by particular instances1 wherein the force of sympathy is very remarkable4 ,most kinds of beauty are derived from this origin2 and though our first object be some senseless inanimate piece of matter1 it is seldom we rest there1 and carry not our view to its influence on sensible and rational creatures4 ,a man1 who shews us any house or building1 takes particular care among other things to point out the convenience of the apartments1 the advantages of their situation1 and the little room lost in the stairs1 antichambers and passages2 and indeed it is evident1 the chief part of the beauty consists in these particulars4 ,the observation of convenience gives pleasure1 since convenience is a beauty4 ,but after what manner does it give pleasure8 ,it is certain our own interest is not in the least concerned2 and as this is a beauty of interest1 not of form1 so to speak1 it must delight us merely by communication1 and by our sympathizing with the proprietor of the lodging4 ,we enter into his interest by the force of imagination1 and feel the same satisfaction1 that the objects naturally occasion in him4 ,this observation extends to tables1 chairs1 scritoires1 chimneys1 coaches1 sadles1 ploughs1 and indeed to every work of art2 it being an universal rule1 that their beauty is chiefly derived from their utility1 and from their fitness for that purpose1 to which they are destined4 ,but this is an advantage1 that concerns only the owner1 nor is there any thing but sympathy1 which can interest the spectator4 ,it is evident1 that nothing renders a field more agreeable than its fertility1 and that scarce any advantages of ornament or situation will be able to equal this beauty4 ,it is the same case with particular trees and plants1 as with the field on which they grow4 ,i know not but a plain1 overgrown with furze and broom1 may be1 in itself1 as beautiful as a hill covered with vines or olive-trees2 though it will never appear so to one1 who is acquainted with the value of each4 ,but this is a beauty merely of imagination1 and has no foundation in what appears to the senses4 ,fertility and value have a plain reference to use2 and that to riches1 joy1 and plenty2 in which though we have no hope of partaking1 yet we enter into them by the vivacity of the fancy1 and share them1 in some measure1 with the proprietor4 ,there is no rule in painting more reasonable than that of ballancing the figures1 and placing them with the greatest exactness on their proper centers of gravity4 ,a figure1 which is not justly ballanced1 is disagreeable2 and that because it conveys the ideas of its fall1 of harm1 and of pain3 ,which ideas are painful1 when by sympathy they acquire any degree of force and vivacity4 ,add to this1 that the principal part of personal beauty is an air of health and vigour1 and such a construction of members as promises strength and activity4 ,this idea of beauty cannot be accounted for but by sympathy4 ,in general we may remark1 that the minds of men are mirrors to one another1 not only because they reflect each others emotions1 but also because those rays of passions1 sentiments and opinions may be often reverberated1 and may decay away by insensible degrees4 ,thus the pleasure1 which a rich man receives from his possessions1 being thrown upon the beholder1 causes a pleasure and esteem2 which sentiments again1 being perceived and sympathized with1 encrease the pleasure of the possessor2 and being once more reflected1 become a new foundation for pleasure and esteem in the beholder4 ,there is certainly an original satisfaction in riches derived from that power1 which they bestow1 of enjoying all the pleasures of life2 and as this is their very nature and essence1 it must be the first source of all the passions1 which arise from them4 ,one of the most considerable of these passions is that of love or esteem in others1 which therefore proceeds from a sympathy with the pleasure of the possessor4 ,but the possessor has also a secondary satisfaction in riches arising from the love and esteem he acquires by them1 and this satisfaction is nothing but a second reflexion of that original pleasure1 which proceeded from himself4 ,this secondary satisfaction or vanity becomes one of the principal recommendations of riches1 and is the chief reason1 why we either desire them for ourselves1 or esteem them in others4 ,here then is a third rebound of the original pleasure2 after which it is difficult to distinguish the images and reflexions1 by reason of their faintness and confusion4 ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,of ,,benevolence ,,and ,,anger ,ideas may be compared to the extension and solidity of matter1 and impressions1 especially reflective ones1 to colours1 tastes1 smells and other sensible qualities4 ,ideas never admit of a total union1 but are endowed with a kind of impenetrability1 by which they exclude each other1 and are capable of forming a compound by their conjunction1 not by their mixture4 ,on the other hand1 impressions and passions are susceptible of an entire union2 and like colours1 may be blended so perfectly together1 that each of them may lose itself1 and contribute only to vary that uniform impression1 which arises from the whole4 ,some of the most curious phaenomena of the human mind are derived from this property of the passions4 ,in examining those ingredients1 which are capable of uniting with love and hatred1 ,i begin to be sensible1 in some measure1 of a misfortune1 that has attended every system of philosophy1 with which the world has been yet acquainted4 ,it is commonly found1 that in accounting for the operations of nature by any particular hypothesis2 among a number of experiments1 that quadrate exactly with the principles we would endeavour to establish2 there is always some phnomenon1 which is more stubborn1 and will not so easily bend to our purpose4 ,we need not be surprized1 that this should happen in natural philosophy4 ,the essence and composition of external bodies are so obscure1 that we must necessarily1 in our reasonings1 or rather conjectures concerning them1 involve ourselves in contradictions and absurdities4 ,but as the perceptions of the mind are perfectly known1 and ,i have used all imaginable caution in forming conclusions concerning them1 ,i have always hoped to keep clear of those contradictions1 which have attended every other system4 ,accordingly the difficulty1 which ,i have at present in my eye1 is nowise contrary to my system2 but only departs a little from that simplicity1 which has been hitherto its principal force and beauty4 ,the passions of love and hatred are always followed by1 or rather conjoined with benevolence and anger4 ,it is this conjunction1 which chiefly distinguishes these affections from pride and humility4 ,for pride and humility are pure emotions in the soul1 unattended with any desire1 and not immediately exciting us to action4 ,but love and hatred are not compleated within themselves1 nor rest in that emotion1 which they produce1 but carry the mind to something farther4 ,love is always followed by a desire of the happiness of the person beloved1 and an aversion to his misery3 ,as hatred produces a desire of the misery and an aversion to the happiness of the person hated4 ,so remarkable a difference betwixt these two sets of passions of pride and humility1 love and hatred1 which in so many other particulars correspond to each other1 merits our attention4 ,the conjunction of this desire and aversion with love and hatred may be accounted for by two different hypotheses4 ,the first is1 that love and hatred have not only a cause1 which excites them1 viz1 pleasure and pain2 and an object1 to which they are directed1 viz1 a person or thinking being2 but likewise an end1 which they endeavour to attain1 viz1 the happiness or misery of the person beloved or hated2 all which views1 mixing together1 make only one passion4 ,according to this system1 love is nothing but the desire of happiness to another person1 and hatred that of misery4 ,the desire and aversion constitute the very nature of love and hatred4 ,they are not only inseparable but the same4 ,but this is evidently contrary to experience4 ,for though it is certain we never love any person without desiring his happiness1 nor hate any without wishing his misery1 yet these desires arise only upon the ideas of the happiness or misery of our friend or enemy being presented by the imagination1 and are not absolutely essential to love and hatred4 ,they are the most obvious and natural sentiments of these affections1 but not the only ones4 ,the passions may express themselves in a hundred ways1 and may subsist a considerable time1 without our reflecting on the happiness or misery of their objects2 which clearly proves1 that these desires are not the same with love and hatred1 nor make any essential part of them4 ,we may1 therefore1 infer1 that benevolence and anger are passions different from love and hatred1 and only conjoined with them1 by the original constitution of the mind4 ,as nature has given to the body certain appetites and inclinations1 which she encreases1 diminishes1 or changes according to the situation of the fluids or solids2 she has proceeded in the same manner with the mind4 ,according as we are possessed with love or hatred1 the correspondent desire of the happiness or misery of the person1 who is the object of these passions1 arises in the mind1 and varies with each variation of these opposite passions4 ,this order of things1 abstractedly considered1 is not necessary4 ,love and hatred might have been unattended with any such desires1 or their particular connexion might have been entirely reversed4 ,if nature had so pleased1 love might have had the same effect as hatred1 and hatred as love4 ,i see no contradiction in supposing a desire of producing misery annexed to love1 and of happiness to hatred4 ,if the sensation of the passion and desire be opposite1 nature could have altered the sensation without altering the tendency of the desire1 and by that means made them compatible with each other4 ,,sect4 ,,vii ,,of ,,compassion ,but though the desire of the happiness or misery of others1 according to the love or hatred we bear them1 be an arbitrary and original instinct implanted in our nature1 we find it may be counterfeited on many occasions1 and may arise from secondary principles4 ,pity is a concern for1 and malice a joy in the misery of others1 without any friendship or enmity to occasion this concern or joy4 ,we pity even strangers1 and such as are perfectly indifferent to us3 ,and if our ill-will to another proceed from any harm or injury1 it is not1 properly speaking1 malice1 but revenge4 ,but if we examine these affections of pity and malice we shall find them to be secondary ones1 arising from original affections1 which are varied by some particular turn of thought and imagination4 ,it will be easy to explain the passion of pity1 from the precedent reasoning concerning sympathy4 ,we have a lively idea of every thing related to us4 ,all human creatures are related to us by resemblance4 ,their persons1 therefore1 their interests1 their passions1 their pains and pleasures must strike upon us in a lively manner1 and produce an emotion similar to the original one2 since a lively idea is easily converted into an impression4 ,if this be true in general1 it must be more so of affliction and sorrow4 ,these have always a stronger and more lasting influence than any pleasure or enjoyment4 ,a spectator of a tragedy passes through a long train of grief1 terror1 indignation1 and other affections1 which the poet represents in the persons he introduces4 ,as many tragedies end happily1 and no excellent one can be composed without some reverses of fortune1 the spectator must sympathize with all these changes1 and receive the fictitious joy as well as every other passion4 ,unless1 therefore1 it be asserted1 that every distinct passion is communicated by a distinct original quality1 and is not derived from the general principle of sympathy above-explained1 it must be allowed1 that all of them arise from that principle4 ,to except any one in particular must appear highly unreasonable4 ,as they are all first present in the mind of one person1 and afterwards appear in the mind of another2 and as the manner of their appearance1 first as an idea1 then as an impression1 is in every case the same1 the transition must arise from the same principle4 ,i am at least sure1 that this method of reasoning would be considered as certain1 either in natural philosophy or common life4 ,add to this1 that pity depends1 in a great measure1 on the contiguity1 and even sight of the object2 which is a proof1 that it is derived from the imagination4 ,not to mention that women and children are most subject to pity1 as being most guided by that faculty4 ,the same infirmity1 which makes them faint at the sight of a naked sword1 though in the hands of their best friend1 makes them pity extremely those1 whom they find in any grief or affliction4 ,those philosophers1 who derive this passion from ,i know not what subtile reflections on the instability of fortune1 and our being liable to the same miseries we behold1 will find this observation contrary to them among a great many others1 which it were easy to produce4 ,there remains only to take notice of a pretty remarkable phnomenon of this passion2 which is1 that the communicated passion of sympathy sometimes acquires strength from the weakness of its original1 and even arises by a transition from affections1 which have no existence4 ,thus when a person obtains any honourable office1 or inherits a great fortune1 we are always the more rejoiced for his prosperity1 the less sense he seems to have of it1 and the greater equanimity and indifference he shews in its enjoyment4 ,in like manner a man1 who is not dejected by misfortunes1 is the more lamented on account of his patience2 and if that virtue extends so far as utterly to remove all sense of uneasiness1 it still farther encreases our compassion4 ,when a person of merit falls into what is vulgarly esteemed a great misfortune1 we form a notion of his condition2 and carrying our fancy from the cause to the usual effect1 first conceive a lively idea of his sorrow1 and then feel an impression of it1 entirely over-looking that greatness of mind1 which elevates him above such emotions1 or only considering it so far as to encrease our admiration1 love and tenderness for him4 ,we find from experience1 that such a degree of passion is usually connected with such a misfortune2 and though there be an exception in the present case1 yet the imagination is affected by the general rule1 and makes us conceive a lively idea of the passion1 or rather feel the passion itself1 in the same manner1 as if the person were really actuated by it4 ,from the same principles we blush for the conduct of those1 who behave themselves foolishly before us2 and that though they shew no sense of shame1 nor seem in the least conscious of their folly4 ,all this proceeds from sympathy2 but it is of a partial kind1 and views its objects only on one side1 without considering the other1 which has a contrary effect1 and would entirely destroy that emotion1 which arises from the first appearance4 ,we have also instances1 wherein an indifference and insensibility under misfortune encreases our concern for the misfortunate1 even though the indifference proceed not from any virtue and magnanimity4 ,it is an aggravation of a murder1 that it was committed upon persons asleep and in perfect security2 as historians readily observe of any infant prince1 who is captive in the hands of his enemies1 that he is the more worthy of compassion the less sensible he is of his miserable condition4 ,as we ourselves are here acquainted with the wretched situation of the person1 it gives us a lively idea and sensation of sorrow1 which is the passion that generally attends it2 and this idea becomes still more lively1 and the sensation more violent by a contrast with that security and indifference1 which we observe in the person himself4 ,a contrast of any kind never fails to affect the imagination1 especially when presented by the subject2 and it is on the imagination that pity entirely depends4#f #f ,to prevent all ambiguity1 ,i must observe1 that where ,i oppose the imagination to the memory1 ,i mean in general the faculty that presents our fainter ideas4 ,in all other places1 and particularly when it is opposed to the understanding1 ,i understand the same faculty1 excluding only our demonstrative and probable reasonings4 ,,sect4 ,,viii ,,of ,,malice ,,and ,,envy ,we must now proceed to account for the passion of malice1 which imitates the effects of hatred1 as pity does those of love2 and gives us a joy in the sufferings and miseries of others1 without any offence or injury on their part4 ,so little are men governed by reason in their sentiments and opinions1 that they always judge more of objects by comparison than from their intrinsic worth and value4 ,when the mind considers1 or is accustomed to1 any degree of perfection1 whatever falls short of it1 though really esteemable1 has notwithstanding the same effect upon the passions2 as what is defective and ill4 ,this is an original quality of the soul1 and similar to what we have every day experience of in our bodies4 ,let a man heat one hand and cool the other2 the same water will1 at the same time1 seem both hot and cold1 according to the disposition of the different organs4 ,a small degree of any quality1 succeeding a greater1 produces the same sensation1 as if less than it really is1 and even sometimes as the opposite quality4 ,any gentle pain1 that follows a violent one1 seems as nothing1 or rather becomes a pleasure2 as on the other hand a violent pain1 succeeding a gentle one1 is doubly grievous and uneasy4 ,this no one can doubt of with regard to our passions and sensations4 ,but there may arise some difficulty with regard to our ideas and objects4 ,when an object augments or diminishes to the eye or imagination from a comparison with others1 the image and idea of the object are still the same1 and are equally extended in the retina1 and in the brain or organ of perception4 ,the eyes refract the rays of light1 and the optic nerves convey the images to the brain in the very same manner1 whether a great or small object has preceded2 nor does even the imagination alter the dimensions of its object on account of a comparison with others4 ,the question then is1 how from the same impression and the same idea we can form such different judgments concerning the same object1 and at one time admire its bulk1 and at another despise its littleness4 ,this variation in our judgments must certainly proceed from a variation in some perception2 but as the variation lies not in the immediate impression or idea of the object1 it must lie in some other impression1 that accompanies it4 ,in order to explain this matter1 ,i shall just touch upon two principles1 one of which shall be more fully explained in the progress of this treatise2 the other has been already accounted for4 ,i believe it may safely be established for a general maxim1 that no object is presented to the senses1 nor image formed in the fancy1 but what is accompanyed with some emotion or movement of spirits proportioned to it2 and however custom may make us insensible of this sensation and cause us to confound it with the object or idea1 it will be easy1 by careful and exact experiments1 to separate and distinguish them4 ,for to instance only in the cases of extension and number2 it is evident1 that any very bulky object1 such as the ocean1 an extended plain1 a vast chain of mountains1 a wide forest3 or any very numerous collection of objects1 such as an army1 a fleet1 a crowd1 excite in the mind a sensible emotion2 and that the admiration1 which arises on the appearance of such objects1 is one of the most lively pleasures1 which human nature is capable of enjoying4 ,now as this admiration encreases or diminishes by the encrease or diminution of the objects1 we may conclude1 according to our foregoing#g principles1 that it is a compound effect1 proceeding from the conjunction of the several effects1 which arise from each part of the cause4 ,every part1 then1 of extension1 and every unite of number has a separate emotion attending it2 and though that emotion be not always agreeable1 yet by its conjunction with others1 and by its agitating the spirits to a just pitch1 it contributes to the production of admiration1 which is always agreeable4 ,if this be allowed with respect to extension and number1 we can make no difficulty with respect to virtue and vice1 wit and folly1 riches and poverty1 happiness and misery1 and other objects of that kind1 which are always attended with an evident emotion4 #g ,book ,i4 ,part ,,iii4 ,sect4 #ae4 ,the second principle ,i shall take notice of is that of our adherence to general rules2 which has such a mighty influence on the actions and understanding1 and is able to impose on the very senses4 ,when an object is found by experience to be always accompanyed with another2 whenever the first object appears1 though changed in very material circumstances2 we naturally fly to the conception of the second1 and form an idea of it in as lively and strong a manner1 as if we had infered its existence by the justest and most authentic conclusion of our understanding4 ,nothing can undeceive us1 not even our senses1 which1 instead of correcting this false judgment1 are often perverted by it1 and seem to authorize its errors4 ,the conclusion ,i draw from these two principles1 joined to the influence of comparison above-mentioned1 is very short and decisive4 ,every object is attended with some emotion proportioned to it2 a great object with a great emotion1 a small object with a small emotion4 ,a great object1 therefore1 succeeding a small one makes a great emotion succeed a small one4 ,now a great emotion succeeding a small one becomes still greater1 and rises beyond its ordinary proportion4 ,but as there is a certain degree of an emotion1 which commonly attends every magnitude of an object2 when the emotion encreases1 we naturally imagine that the object has likewise encreased4 ,the effect conveys our view to its usual cause1 a certain degree of emotion to a certain magnitude of the object2 nor do we consider1 that comparison may change the emotion without changing anything in the object4 ,those who are acquainted with the metaphysical part of optics and know how we transfer the judgments and conclusions of the understanding to the senses1 will easily conceive this whole operation4 ,but leaving this new discovery of an impression1 that secretly attends every idea2 we must at least allow of that principle1 from whence the discovery arose1 that objects appear greater or less by a comparison with others4 ,we have so many instances of this1 that it is impossible we can dispute its veracity2 and it is from this principle ,i derive the passions of malice and envy4 ,it is evident we must receive a greater or less satisfaction or uneasiness from reflecting on our own condition and circumstances1 in proportion as they appear more or less fortunate or unhappy1 in proportion to the degrees of riches1 and power1 and merit1 and reputation1 which we think ourselves possest of4 ,now as we seldom judge of objects from their intrinsic value1 but form our notions of them from a comparison with other objects2 it follows1 that according as we observe a greater or less share of happiness or misery in others1 we must make an estimate of our own1 and feel a consequent pain or pleasure4 ,the misery of another gives us a more lively idea of our happiness1 and his happiness of our misery4 ,the former1 therefore1 produces delight2 and the latter uneasiness4 ,here then is a kind of pity reverst1 or contrary sensations arising in the beholder1 from those which are felt by the person1 whom he considers4 ,in general we may observe1 that in all kinds of comparison an object makes us always receive from another1 to which it is compared1 a sensation contrary to what arises from itself in its direct and immediate survey4 ,a small object makes a great one appear still greater4 ,a great object makes a little one appear less4 ,deformity of itself produces uneasiness2 but makes us receive new pleasure by its contrast with a beautiful object1 whose beauty is augmented by it2 as on the other hand1 beauty1 which of itself produces pleasure1 makes us receive a new pain by the contrast with any thing ugly1 whose deformity it augments4 ,the case1 therefore1 must be the same with happiness and misery4 ,the direct survey of another's pleasure naturally gives us pleasure1 and therefore produces pain when compared with our own4 ,his pain1 considered in itself1 is painful to us1 but augments the idea of our own happiness1 and gives us pleasure4 ,nor will it appear strange1 that we may feel a reverst sensation from the happiness and misery of others2 since we find the same comparison may give us a kind of malice against ourselves1 and make us rejoice for our pains1 and grieve for our pleasures4 ,thus the prospect of past pain is agreeable1 when we are satisfyed with our present condition2 as on the other hand our past pleasures give us uneasiness1 when we enjoy nothing at present equal to them4 ,the comparison being the same1 as when we reflect on the sentiments of others1 must be attended with the same effects4 ,nay a person may extend this malice against himself1 even to his present fortune1 and carry it so far as designedly to seek affliction1 and encrease his pains and sorrows4 ,this may happen upon two occasions4 ,first1 ,upon the distress and misfortune of a friend1 or person dear to him4 ,secondly1 ,upon the feeling any remorses for a crime1 of which he has been guilty4 ,it is from the principle of comparison that both these irregular appetites for evil arise4 ,a person1 who indulges himself in any pleasure1 while his friend lies under affliction1 feels the reflected uneasiness from his friend more sensibly by a comparison with the original pleasure1 which he himself enjoys4 ,this contrast1 indeed1 ought also to inliven the present pleasure4 ,but as grief is here supposed to be the predominant passion1 every addition falls to that side1 and is swallowed up in it1 without operating in the least upon the contrary affection4 ,it is the same case with those penances1 which men inflict on themselves for their past sins and failings4 ,when a criminal reflects on the punishment he deserves1 the idea of it is magnifyed by a comparison with his present ease and satisfaction2 which forces him1 in a manner1 to seek uneasiness1 in order to avoid so disagreeable a contrast4 ,this reasoning will account for the origin of envy as well as of malice4 ,the only difference betwixt these passions lies in this1 that envy is excited by some present enjoyment of another1 which by comparison diminishes our idea of our own3 ,whereas malice is the unprovoked desire of producing evil to another1 in order to reap a pleasure from the comparison4 ,the enjoyment1 which is the object of envy1 is commonly superior to our own4 ,a superiority naturally seems to overshade us1 and presents a disagreeable comparison4 ,but even in the case of an inferiority1 we still desire a greater distance1 in order to augment1 still more the idea of ourself4 ,when this distance diminishes1 the comparison is less to our advantage2 and consequently gives us less pleasure1 and is even disagreeable4 ,hence arises that species of envy1 which men feel1 when they perceive their inferiors approaching or overtaking them in the pursuits of glory or happiness4 ,in this envy we may see the effects of comparison twice repeated4 ,a man1 who compares himself to his inferior1 receives a pleasure from the comparison3 ,and when the inferiority decreases by the elevation of the inferior1 what should only have been a decrease of pleasure1 becomes a real pain1 by a new comparison with its preceding condition4 ,it is worthy of observation concerning that envy1 which arises from a superiority in others1 that it is not the great disproportion betwixt ourself and another1 which produces it2 but on the contrary1 our proximity4 ,a common soldier bears no such envy to his general as to his sergeant or corporal2 nor does an eminent writer meet with so great jealousy in common hackney scribblers1 as in authors1 that more nearly approach him4 ,it may1 indeed1 be thought1 that the greater the disproportion is1 the greater must be the uneasiness from the comparison4 ,but we may consider on the other hand1 that the great disproportion cuts off the relation1 and either keeps us from comparing ourselves with what is remote from us1 or diminishes the effects of the comparison4 ,resemblance and proximity always produce a relation of ideas2 and where you destroy these ties1 however other accidents may bring two ideas together2 as they have no bond or connecting quality to join them in the imagination2 it is impossible they can remain long united1 or have any considerable influence on each other4 ,i have observed in considering the nature of ambition1 that the great feel a double pleasure in authority from the comparison of their own condition with that of their slaves2 and that this comparison has a double influence1 because it is natural1 and presented by the subject4 ,when the fancy1 in the comparison of objects1 passes not easily from the one object to the other1 the action of the mind is1 in a great measure1 broke1 and the fancy1 in considering the second object1 begins1 as it were1 upon a new footing4 ,the impression1 which attends every object1 seems not greater in that case by succeeding a less of the same kind2 but these two impressions are distinct1 and produce their distinct effects1 without any communication together4 ,the want of relation in the ideas breaks the relation of the impressions1 and by such a separation prevents their mutual operation and influence4 ,to confirm this we may observe1 that the proximity in the degree of merit is not alone sufficient to give rise to envy1 but must be assisted by other relations4 ,a poet is not apt to envy a philosopher1 or a poet of a different kind1 of a different nation1 or of a different age4 ,all these differences prevent or weaken the comparison1 and consequently the passion4 ,this too is the reason1 why all objects appear great or little1 merely by a comparison with those of the same species4 ,a mountain neither magnifies nor diminishes a horse in our eyes2 but when a ,flemish and a ,welsh horse are seen together1 the one appears greater and the other less1 than when viewed apart4 ,from the same principle we may account for that remark of historians1 that any party in a civil war always choose to call in a foreign enemy at any hazard rather than submit to their fellow-citizens4 ,guicciardin applies this remark to the wars in ,italy1 where the relations betwixt the different states are1 properly speaking1 nothing but of name1 language1 and contiguity4 ,yet even these relations1 when joined with superiority1 by making the comparison more natural1 make it likewise more grievous1 and cause men to search for some other superiority1 which may be attended with no relation1 and by that means may have a less sensible influence on the imagination4 ,the mind quickly perceives its several advantages and disadvantages2 and finding its situation to be most uneasy1 where superiority is conjoined with other relations1 seeks its repose as much as possible1 by their separation1 and by breaking that association of ideas1 which renders the comparison so much more natural and efficacious4 ,when it cannot break the association1 it feels a stronger desire to remove the superiority2 and this is the reason why travellers are commonly so lavish of their praises to the ,chinese and ,persians1 at the same time1 that they depreciate those neighbouring nations1 which may stand upon a foot of rivalship with their native country4 ,these examples from history and common experience are rich and curious2 but we may find parallel ones in the arts1 which are no less remarkable4 should an author compose a treatise1 of which one part was serious and profound1 another light and humorous1 every one would condemn so strange a mixture1 and would accuse him of the neglect of all rules of art and criticism4 ,these rules of art are founded on the qualities of human nature2 and the quality of human nature1 which requires a consistency in every performance is that which renders the mind incapable of passing in a moment from one passion and disposition to a quite different one4 ,yet this makes us not blame ,mr ,prior for joining his ,alma and his ,solomon in the same volume2 though that admirable poet has succeeded perfectly well in the gaiety of the one1 as well as in the melancholy of the other4 ,even supposing the reader should peruse these two compositions without any interval1 he would feel little or no difficulty in the change of passions3 ,why1 but because he considers these performances as entirely different1 and by this break in the ideas1 breaks the progress of the affections1 and hinders the one from influencing or contradicting the other8 ,an heroic and burlesque design1 united in one picture1 would be monstrous2 though we place two pictures of so opposite a character in the same chamber1 and even close by each other1 without any scruple or difficulty4 ,in a word1 no ideas can affect each other1 either by comparison1 or by the passions they separately produce1 unless they be united together by some relation1 which may cause an easy transition of the ideas1 and consequently of the emotions or impressions1 attending the ideas2 and may preserve the one impression in the passage of the imagination to the object of the other4 ,this principle is very remarkable1 because it is analogous to what we have observed both concerning the understanding and the passions4 ,suppose two objects to be presented to me1 which are not connected by any kind of relation4 ,suppose that each of these objects separately produces a passion2 and that these two passions are in themselves contrary3 ,we find from experience1 that the want of relation in the objects or ideas hinders the natural contrariety of the passions1 and that the break in the transition of the thought removes the affections from each other1 and prevents their opposition4 ,it is the same case with comparison2 and from both these phaenomena we may safely conclude1 that the relation of ideas must forward the transition of impressions2 since its absence alone is able to prevent it1 and to separate what naturally should have operated upon each other4 ,when the absence of an object or quality removes any usual or natural effect1 we may certainly conclude that its presence contributes to the production of the effect4 ,,sect4 ,,ix ,,of ,,the ,,mixture ,,of ,,benevolence ,,and ,,anger ,,with ,,compassion ,,and ,,malice ,thus we have endeavoured to account for pity and malice4 ,both these affections arise from the imagination1 according to the light1 in which it places its object4 ,when our fancy considers directly the sentiments of others1 and enters deep into them1 it makes us sensible of all the passions it surveys1 but in a particular manner of grief or sorrow4 ,on the contrary1 when we compare the sentiments of others to our own1 we feel a sensation directly opposite to the original one1 viz4 a joy from the grief of others1 and a grief from their joy4 ,but these are only the first foundations of the affections of pity and malice4 ,other passions are afterwards confounded with them4 ,there is always a mixture of love or tenderness with pity1 and of hatred or anger with malice4 ,but it must be confessed1 that this mixture seems at first sight to be contradictory to my system4 ,for as pity is an uneasiness1 and malice a joy1 arising from the misery of others1 pity should naturally1 as in all other cases1 produce hatred2 and malice1 love4 ,this contradiction ,i endeavour to reconcile1 after the following manner4 ,in order to cause a transition of passions1 there is required a double relation of impressions and ideas1 nor is one relation sufficient to produce this effect4 ,but that we may understand the full force of this double relation1 we must consider1 that it is not the present sensation alone or momentary pain or pleasure1 which determines the character of any passion1 but the whole bent or tendency of it from the beginning to the end4 ,one impression may be related to another1 not only when their sensations are resembling1 as we have all along supposed in the preceding cases2 but also when their impulses or directions are similar and correspondent4 ,this cannot take place with regard to pride and humility2 because these are only pure sensations1 without any direction or tendency to action4 ,we are1 therefore1 to look for instances of this peculiar relation of impressions only in such affections1 as are attended with a certain appetite or desire2 such as those of love and hatred4 ,benevolence or the appetite1 which attends love1 is a desire of the happiness of the person beloved1 and an aversion to his misery2 as anger or the appetite1 which attends hatred1 is a desire of the misery of the person hated1 and an aversion to his happiness4 ,a desire1 therefore1 of the happiness of another1 and aversion to his misery1 are similar to benevolence2 and a desire of his misery and aversion to his happiness are correspondent to anger4 ,now pity is a desire of happiness to another1 and aversion to his misery2 as malice is the contrary appetite4 ,pity1 then1 is related to benevolence2 and malice to anger3 ,and as benevolence has been already found to be connected with love1 by a natural and original quality1 and anger with hatred2 it is by this chain the passions of pity and malice are connected with love and hatred4 ,this hypothesis is founded on sufficient experience4 ,a man1 who from any motives has entertained a resolution of performing an action1 naturally runs into every other view or motive1 which may fortify that resolution1 and give it authority and influence on the mind4 ,to confirm us in any design1 we search for motives drawn from interest1 from honour1 from duty4 ,what wonder1 then1 that pity and benevolence1 malice1 and anger1 being the same desires arising from different principles1 should so totally mix together as to be undistinguishable8 ,as to the connexion betwixt benevolence and love1 anger and hatred1 being original and primary1 it admits of no difficulty4 ,we may add to this another experiment1 viz1 that benevolence and anger1 and consequently love and hatred1 arise when our happiness or misery have any dependance on the happiness or misery of another person1 without any farther relation4 ,i doubt not but this experiment will appear so singular as to excuse us for stopping a moment to consider it4 ,suppose1 that two persons of the same trade should seek employment in a town1 that is not able to maintain both1 it is plain the success of one is perfectly incompatible with that of the other1 and that whatever is for the interest of either is contrary to that of his rival1 and so vice versa4 ,suppose again1 that two merchants1 though living in different parts of the world1 should enter into co-partnership together1 the advantage or loss of one becomes immediately the advantage or loss of his partner1 and the same fortune necessarily attends both4 ,now it is evident1 that in the first case1 hatred always follows upon the contrariety of interests2 as in the second1 love arises from their union4 ,let us consider to what principle we can ascribe these passions4 ,it is plain they arise not from the double relations of impressions and ideas1 if we regard only the present sensation4 ,for takeing the first case of rivalship2 though the pleasure and advantage of an antagonist necessarily causes my pain and loss1 yet to counter-ballance this1 his pain and loss causes my pleasure and advantage2 and supposing him to be unsuccessful1 ,i may by this means receive from him a superior degree of satisfaction4 ,in the same manner the success of a partner rejoices me1 but then his misfortunes afflict me in an equal proportion2 and it is easy to imagine1 that the latter sentiment may in many cases preponderate4 ,but whether the fortune of a rival or partner be good or bad1 ,i always hate the former and love the latter4 ,this love of a partner cannot proceed from the relation or connexion betwixt us2 in the same manner as ,i love a brother or countryman4 ,a rival has almost as close a relation to me as a partner4 ,for as the pleasure of the latter causes my pleasure1 and his pain my pain2 so the pleasure of the former causes my pain1 and his pain my pleasure4 ,the connexion1 then1 of cause and effect is the same in both cases2 and if in the one case1 the cause and effect have a farther relation of resemblance1 they have that of contrariety in the other2 which1 being also a species of resemblance1 leaves the matter pretty equal4 ,the only explication1 then1 we can give of this phnomenon is derived from that principle of a parallel direction above-mentioned4 ,our concern for our own interest gives us a pleasure in the pleasure1 and a pain in the pain of a partner1 after the same manner as by sympathy we feel a sensation correspondent to those1 which appear in any person1 who is present with us4 ,on the other hand1 the same concern for our interest makes us feel a pain in the pleasure1 and a pleasure in the pain of a rival2 and in short the same contrariety of sentiments as arises from comparison and malice4 ,since1 therefore1 a parallel direction of the affections1 proceeding from interest1 can give rise to benevolence or anger1 no wonder the same parallel direction1 derived from sympathy and from comparison1 should have the same effect4 ,in general we may observe1 that it is impossible to do good to others1 from whatever motive1 without feeling some touches of kindness and good-will towards them2 as the injuries we do1 not only cause hatred in the person1 who suffers them1 but even in ourselves4 ,these phaenomena1 indeed1 may in part be accounted for from other principles4 ,but here there occurs a considerable objection1 which it will be necessary to examine before we proceed any farther4 ,i have endeavoured to prove1 that power and riches1 or poverty and meanness2 which give rise to love or hatred1 without producing any original pleasure or uneasiness2 operate upon us by means of a secondary sensation derived from a sympathy with that pain or satisfaction1 which they produce in the person1 who possesses them4 ,from a sympathy with his pleasure there arises love2 from that with his uneasiness1 hatred4 ,but it is a maxim1 which ,i have just now established1 and which is absolutely necessary to the explication of the phaenomena of pity and malice1 that it is not the present sensation or momentary pain or pleasure1 which determines the character of any passion1 but the general bent or tendency of it from the beginning to the end4 ,for this reason1 pity or a sympathy with pain produces love1 and that because it interests us in the fortunes of others1 good or bad1 and gives us a secondary sensation correspondent to the primary2 in which it has the same influence with love and benevolence4 ,since then this rule holds good in one case1 why does it not prevail throughout1 and why does sympathy in uneasiness ever produce any passion beside good-will and kindness8 ,is it becoming a philosopher to alter his method of reasoning1 and run from one principle to its contrary1 according to the particular phnomenon1 which he would explain8 ,i have mentioned two different causes1 from which a transition of passion may arise1 viz1 a double relation of ideas and impressions1 and what is similar to it1 a conformity in the tendency and direction of any two desires1 which arise from different principles4 ,now ,i assert1 that when a sympathy with uneasiness is weak1 it produces hatred or contempt by the former cause2 when strong1 it produces love or tenderness by the latter4 ,this is the solution of the foregoing difficulty1 which seems so urgent2 and this is a principle founded on such evident arguments1 that we ought to have established it1 even though it were not necessary to the explication of any phnomenon4 ,it is certain1 that sympathy is not always limited to the present moment1 but that we often feel by communication the pains and pleasures of others1 which are not in being1 and which we only anticipate by the force of imagination4 ,for supposing ,i saw a person perfectly unknown to me1 who1 while asleep in the fields1 was in danger of being trod under foot by horses1 ,i should immediately run to his assistance2 and in this ,i should be actuated by the same principle of sympathy1 which makes me concerned for the present sorrows of a stranger4 ,the bare mention of this is sufficient4 ,sympathy being nothing but a lively idea converted into an impression1 it is evident1 that1 in considering the future possible or probable condition of any person1 we may enter into it with so vivid a conception as to make it our own concern2 and by that means be sensible of pains and pleasures1 which neither belong to ourselves1 nor at the present instant have any real existence4 ,but however we may look forward to the future in sympathizing with any person1 the extending of our sympathy depends in a great measure upon our sense of his present condition4 ,it is a great effort of imagination1 to form such lively ideas even of the present sentiments of others as to feel these very sentiments2 but it is impossible we could extend this sympathy to the future1 without being aided by some circumstance in the present1 which strikes upon us in a lively manner4 ,when the present misery of another has any strong influence upon me1 the vivacity of the conception is not confined merely to its immediate object1 but diffuses its influence over all the related ideas1 and gives me a lively notion of all the circumstances of that person1 whether past1 present1 or future2 possible1 probable or certain4 ,by means of this lively notion ,i am interested in them2 take part with them2 and feel a sympathetic motion in my breast1 conformable to whatever ,i imagine in his4 ,if ,i diminish the vivacity of the first conception1 ,i diminish that of the related ideas2 as pipes can convey no more water than what arises at the fountain4 ,by this diminution ,i destroy the future prospect1 which is necessary to interest me perfectly in the fortune of another4 ,i may feel the present impression1 but carry my sympathy no farther1 and never transfuse the force of the first conception into my ideas of the related objects4 ,if it be another's misery1 which is presented in this feeble manner1 ,i receive it by communication1 and am affected with all the passions related to it3 ,but as ,i am not so much interested as to concern myself in his good fortune1 as well as his bad1 ,i never feel the extensive sympathy1 nor the passions related to it4 ,now in order to know what passions are related to these different kinds of sympathy1 we must consider1 that benevolence is an original pleasure arising from the pleasure of the person beloved1 and a pain proceeding from his pain3 ,from which correspondence of impressions there arises a subsequent desire of his pleasure1 and aversion to his pain4 ,in order1 then1 to make a passion run parallel with benevolence1 it is requisite we should feel these double impressions1 correspondent to those of the person1 whom we consider2 nor is any one of them alone sufficient for that purpose4 ,when we sympathize only with one impression1 and that a painful one1 this sympathy is related to anger and to hatred1 upon account of the uneasiness it conveys to us4 ,but as the extensive or limited sympathy depends upon the force of the first sympathy2 it follows1 that the passion of love or hatred depends upon the same principle4 ,a strong impression1 when communicated1 gives a double tendency of the passions2 which is related to benevolence and love by a similarity of direction2 however painful the first impression might have been4 ,a weak impression1 that is painful1 is related to anger and hatred by the resemblance of sensations4 ,benevolence1 therefore1 arises from a great degree of misery1 or any degree strongly sympathized with3 ,hatred or contempt from a small degree1 or one weakly sympathized with2 which is the principle ,i intended to prove and explain4 ,nor have we only our reason to trust to for this principle1 but also experience4 ,a certain degree of poverty produces contempt2 but a degree beyond causes compassion and good-will4 ,we may under-value a peasant or servant2 but when the misery of a beggar appears very great1 or is painted in very lively colours1 we sympathize with him in his afflictions2 and feel in our heart evident touches of pity and benevolence4 ,the same object causes contrary passions according to its different degrees4 ,the passions1 therefore1 must depend upon principles1 that operate in such certain degrees1 according to my hypothesis4 ,the encrease of the sympathy has evidently the same effect as the encrease of the misery4 ,a barren or desolate country always seems ugly and disagreeable1 and commonly inspires us with contempt for the inhabitants4 ,this deformity1 however1 proceeds in a great measure from a sympathy with the inhabitants1 as has been already observed2 but it is only a weak one1 and reaches no farther than the immediate sensation1 which is disagreeable4 ,the view of a city in ashes conveys benevolent sentiments2 because we there enter so deep into the interests of the miserable inhabitants1 as to wish for their prosperity1 as well as feel their adversity4 ,but though the force of the impression generally produces pity and benevolence1 it is certain1 that by being carryed too far it ceases to have that effect4 ,this1 perhaps1 may be worth our notice4 ,when the uneasiness is either small in itself1 or remote from us1 it engages not the imagination1 nor is able to convey an equal concern for the future and contingent good1 as for the present and real evil ,upon its acquiring greater force1 we become so interested in the concerns of the person1 as to be sensible both of his good and had fortune2 and from that compleat sympathy there arises pity and benevolence4 ,but it will easily be imagined1 that where the present evil strikes with more than ordinary force1 it may entirely engage our attention1 and prevent that double sympathy1 above-mentioned4 ,thus we find1 that though every one1 but especially women1 are apt to contract a kindness for criminals1 who go to the scaffold1 and readily imagine them to be uncommonly handsome and wellshaped2 yet one1 who is present at the cruel execution of the rack1 feels no such tender emotions2 but is in a manner overcome with horror1 and has no leisure to temper this uneasy sensation by any opposite sympathy4 ,but the instance1 which makes the most clearly for my hypothesis1 is that wherein by a change of the objects we separate the double sympathy even from a midling degree of the passion2 in which case we find1 that pity1 instead of producing love and tenderness as usual1 always gives rise to the contrary affection4 ,when we observe a person in misfortunes1 we are affected with pity and love2 but the author of that misfortune becomes the object of our strongest hatred1 and is the more detested in proportion to the degree of our compassion4 ,now for what reason should the same passion of pity produce love to the person1 who suffers the misfortune1 and hatred to the person1 who causes it2 unless it be because in the latter case the author bears a relation only to the misfortune2 whereas in considering the sufferer we carry our view on every side1 and wish for his prosperity1 as well as are sensible of his affliction8 ,i4 shall just observe1 before ,i leave the present subject1 that this phnomenon of the double sympathy1 and its tendency to cause love1 may contribute to the production of the kindness1 which we naturally bear our relations and acquaintance4 ,custom and relation make us enter deeply into the sentiments of others2 and whatever fortune we suppose to attend them1 is rendered present to us by the imagination1 and operates as if originally our own4 ,we rejoice in their pleasures1 and grieve for their sorrows1 merely from the force of sympathy4 ,nothing that concerns them is indifferent to us2 and as this correspondence of sentiments is the natural attendant of love1 it readily produces that affection4 ,,sect4 ,x ,,of ,,respect ,,and ,,contempt ,there now remains only to explain the passion of respect and contempt1 along with the amorous affection1 in order to understand all the passions which have any mixture of love or hatred4 ,let us begin with respect and contempt4 ,in considering the qualities and circumstances of others1 we may either regard them as they really are in themselves2 or may make a comparison betwixt them and our own qualities and circumstances2 or may join these two methods of consideration4 ,the good qualities of others1 from the first point of view1 produce love2 from the second1 humility2 and from the third1 respect2 which is a mixture of these two passions4 ,their bad qualities1 after the same manner1 cause either hatred1 or pride1 or contempt1 according to the light in which we survey them4 ,that there is a mixture of pride in contempt1 and of humility in respect1 is1 ,i think1 too evident1 from their very feeling or appearance1 to require any particular proof4 ,that this mixture arises from a tacit comparison of the person contemned or respected with ourselves is no less evident4 ,the same man may cause either respect1 love1 or contempt by his condition and talents1 according as the person1 who considers him1 from his inferior becomes his equal or superior4 ,in changing the point of view1 though the object may remain the same1 its proportion to ourselves entirely alters2 which is the cause of an alteration in the passions4 ,these passions1 therefore1 arise from our observing the proportion2 that is1 from a comparison4 ,i have already observed1 that the mind has a much stronger propensity to pride than to humility1 and have endeavoured1 from the principles of human nature1 to assign a cause for this phnomenon4 ,whether my reasoning be received or not1 the phnomenon is undisputed1 and appears in many instances4 ,among the rest1 it is the reason why there is a much greater mixture of pride in contempt1 than of humility in respect1 and why we are more elevated with the view of one below us1 than mortifyed with the presence of one above us4 ,contempt or scorn has so strong a tincture of pride1 that there scarce is any other passion discernable3 ,whereas in esteem or respect1 love makes a more considerable ingredient than humility4 ,the passion of vanity is so prompt1 that it rouzes at the least call2 while humility requires a stronger impulse to make it exert itself4 ,but here it may reasonably be asked1 why this mixture takes place only in some cases1 and appears not on every occasion4 ,all those objects1 which cause love1 when placed on another person1 are the causes of pride1 when transfered to ourselves2 and consequently ought to be causes of humility1 as well as love1 while they belong to others1 and are only compared to those1 which we ourselves possess4 ,in like manner every quality1 which1 by being directly considered1 produces hatred1 ought always to give rise to pride by comparison1 and by a mixture of these passions of hatred and pride ought to excite contempt or scorn4 ,the difficulty then is1 why any objects ever cause pure love or hatred1 and produce not always the mixt passions of respect and contempt4 ,i have supposed all along1 that the passions of love and pride1 and those of humility and hatred are similar in their sensations1 and that the two former are always agreeable1 and the two latter painful4 ,but though this be universally true1 it is observable1 that the two agreeable1 as well as the two painful passions1 have some difference1 and even contrarieties1 which distinguish them4 ,nothing invigorates and exalts the mind equally with pride and vanity2 though at the same time love or tenderness is rather found to weaken and infeeble it4 ,the same difference is observable betwixt the uneasy passions4 ,anger and hatred bestow a new force on all our thoughts and actions2 while humility and shame deject and discourage us4 ,of these qualities of the passions1 it will be necessary to form a distinct idea4 ,let us remember1 that pride and hatred invigorate the soul2 and love and humility infeeble it4 ,from this it follows1 that though the conformity betwixt love and hatred in the agreeableness of their sensation makes them always be excited by the same objects1 yet this other contrariety is the reason1 why they are excited in very different degrees4 ,genius and learning are pleasant and magnificent objects1 and by both these circumstances are adapted to pride and vanity2 but have a relation to love by their pleasure only4 ,ignorance and simplicity are disagreeable and mean1 which in the same manner gives them a double connexion with humility1 and a single one with hatred4 ,we may1 therefore1 consider it as certain1 that though the same object always produces love and pride1 humility and hatred1 according to its different situations1 yet it seldom produces either the two former or the two latter passions1 in the same proportion4 ,it is here we must seek for a solution of the difficulty above-mentioned1 why any object ever excites pure love or hatred1 and does not always produce respect or contempt1 by a mixture of humility or pride4 ,no quality in another gives rise to humility by comparison1 unless it would have produced pride by being placed in ourselves2 and vice versa no object excites pride by comparison1 unless it would have produced humility by the direct survey4 ,this is evident1 objects always produce by comparison a sensation directly contrary to their original one4 ,suppose1 therefore1 an object to be presented1 which is peculiarly fitted to produce love1 but imperfectly to excite pride2 this object1 belonging to another1 gives rise directly to a great degree of love1 but to a small one of humility by comparison2 and consequently that latter passion is scarce felt in the compound1 nor is able to convert the love into respect4 ,this is the case with good nature1 good humour1 facility1 generosity1 beauty1 and many other qualities4 ,these have a peculiar aptitude to produce love in others2 but not so great a tendency to excite pride in ourselves3 ,for which reason the view of them1 as belonging to another person1 produces pure love1 with but a small mixture of humility and respect4 ,it is easy to extend the same reasoning to the opposite passions4 ,before we leave this subject1 it may not be amiss to account for a pretty curious phnomenon1 viz1 why we commonly keep at a distance such as we contemn1 and allow not our inferiors to approach too near even in place and situation4 ,it has already been observed1 that almost every kind of idea is attended with some emotion1 even the ideas of number and extension1 much more those of such objects as are esteemed of consequence in life1 and fix our attention4 ,it is not with entire indifference we can survey either a rich man or a poor one1 but must feel some faint touches at least1 of respect in the former case1 and of contempt in the latter4 ,these two passions are contrary to each other2 but in order to make this contrariety be felt1 the objects must be someway related2 otherwise the affections are totally separate and distinct1 and never encounter4 ,the relation takes place wherever the persons become contiguous2 which is a general reason why we are uneasy at seeing such disproportioned objects1 as a rich man and a poor one1 a nobleman and a porter1 in that situation4 ,this uneasiness1 which is common to every spectator1 must be more sensible to the superior2 and that because the near approach of the inferior is regarded as a piece of ill-breeding1 and shews that he is not sensible of the disproportion1 and is no way affected by it4 ,a sense of superiority in another breeds in all men an inclination to keep themselves at a distance from him1 and determines them to redouble the marks of respect and reverence1 when they are obliged to approach him2 and where they do not observe that conduct1 it is a proof they are not sensible of his superiority4 ,from hence too it proceeds1 that any great difference in the degrees of any quality is called a distance by a common metaphor1 which1 however trivial it may appear1 is founded on natural principles of the imagination4 ,a great difference inclines us to produce a distance4 ,the ideas of distance and difference are1 therefore1 connected together4 ,connected ideas are readily taken for each other2 and this is in general the source of the metaphor1 as we shall have occasion to observe afterwards4 ,,sect4 ,,xi ,,of ,,the ,,amorous ,,passion1 ,,or ,,love ,,betwixt ,,the ,,sexes ,of all the compound passions1 which proceed from a mixture of love and hatred with other affections1 no one better deserves our attention1 than that love1 which arises betwixt the sexes1 as well on account of its force and violence1 as those curious principles of philosophy1 for which it affords us an uncontestable argument4 ,it is plain1 that this affection1 in its most natural state1 is derived from the conjunction of three different impressions or passions1 viz4 ,the pleasing sensation arising from beauty2 the bodily appetite for generation2 and a generous kindness or good-will4 ,the origin of kindness from beauty may be explained from the foregoing reasoning4 ,the question is how the bodily appetite is excited by it4 ,the appetite of generation1 when confined to a certain degree1 is evidently of the pleasant kind1 and has a strong connexion with1 all the agreeable emotions4 ,joy1 mirth1 vanity1 and kindness are all incentives to this desire2 as well as music1 dancing1 wine1 and good cheer4 ,on the other hand1 sorrow1 melancholy1 poverty1 humility are destructive of it4 ,from this quality it is easily conceived why it should be connected with the sense of beauty4 ,but there is another principle that contributes to the same effect4 ,i have observed that the parallel direction of the desires is a real relation1 and no less than a resemblance in their sensation1 produces a connexion among them4 ,that we may fully comprehend the extent of this relation1 we must consider1 that any principal desire may be attended with subordinate ones1 which are connected with it1 and to which if other desires are parallel1 they are by that means related to the principal one4 ,thus hunger may oft be considered as the primary inclination of the soul1 and the desire of approaching the meat as the secondary one2 since it is absolutely necessary to the satisfying that appetite4 ,if an object1 therefore1 by any separate qualities1 inclines us to approach the meat1 it naturally encreases our appetite2 as on the contrary1 whatever inclines us to set our victuals at a distance1 is contradictory to hunger1 and diminishes our inclination to them4 ,now it is plain that beauty has the first effect1 and deformity the second3 ,which is the reason why the former gives us a keener appetite for our victuals1 and the latter is sufficient to disgust us at the most savoury dish that cookery has invented4 ,all this is easily applicable to the appetite for generation4 ,from these two relations1 viz1 resemblance and a parallel desire1 there arises such a connexion betwixt the sense of beauty1 the bodily appetite1 and benevolence1 that they become in a manner inseparable3 ,and we find from experience that it is indifferent which of them advances first2 since any of them is almost sure to be attended with the related affections4 ,one1 who is inflamed with lust1 feels at least a momentary kindness towards the object of it1 and at the same time fancies her more beautiful than ordinary2 as there are many1 who begin with kindness and esteem for the wit and merit of the person1 and advance from that to the other passions4 ,but the most common species of love is that which first arises from beauty1 and afterwards diffuses itself into kindness and into the bodily appetite4 ,kindness or esteem1 and the appetite to generation1 are too remote to unite easily together4 ,the one is1 perhaps1 the most refined passion of the soul2 the other the most gross and vulgar4 ,the love of beauty is placed in a just medium betwixt them1 and partakes of both their natures3 ,from whence it proceeds1 that it is so singularly fitted to produce both4 ,this account of love is not peculiar to my system1 but is unavoidable on any hypothesis4 ,the three affections1 which compose this passion1 are evidently distinct1 and has each of them its distinct object4 ,it is certain1 therefore1 that it is only by their relation they produce each other4 ,but the relation of passions is not alone sufficient4 ,it is likewise necessary1 there should be a relation of ideas4 ,the beauty of one person never inspires us with love for another4 ,this then is a sensible proof of the double relation of impressions and ideas4 ,from one instance so evident as this we may form a judgment of the rest4 ,this may also serve in another view to illustrate what ,i have insisted on concerning the origin of pride and humility1 love and hatred4 ,i have observed1 that though self be the object of the first set of passions1 and some other person of the second1 yet these objects cannot alone be the causes of the passions2 as having each of them a relation to two contrary affections1 which must from the very first moment destroy each other4 ,here then is the situation of the mind1 as ,i have already described it4 ,it has certain organs naturally fitted to produce a passion2 that passion1 when produced1 naturally turns the view to a certain object4 ,but this not being sufficient to produce the passion1 there is required some other emotion1 which by a double relation of impressions and ideas may set these principles in action1 and bestow on them their first impulse4 ,this situation is still more remarkable with regard to the appetite of generation4 ,sex is not only the object1 but also the cause of the appetite4 ,we not only turn our view to it1 when actuated by that appetite2 but the reflecting on it suffices to excite the appetite4 ,but as this cause loses its force by too great frequency1 it is necessary it should be quickened by some new impulse2 and that impulse we find to arise from the beauty of the person2 that is1 from a double relation of impressions and ideas4 ,since this double relation is necessary where an affection has both a distinct cause1 and object1 how much more so1 where it has only a distinct object1 without any determinate cause8 ,,sect4 ,,xii ,,of ,,the ,,love ,,and ,,hatred ,,of ,,animals ,but to pass from the passions of love and hatred1 and from their mixtures and compositions1 as they appear in man1 to the same affections1 as they display themselves in brutes2 we may observe1 not only that love and hatred are common to the whole sensitive creation1 but likewise that their causes1 as above-explained1 are of so simple a nature1 that they may easily be supposed to operate on mere animals4 ,there is no force of reflection or penetration required4 ,every thing is conducted by springs and principles1 which are not peculiar to man1 or any one species of animals4 ,the conclusion from this is obvious in favour of the foregoing system4 ,love in animals1 has not for its only object animals of the same species1 but extends itself farther1 and comprehends almost every sensible and thinking being4 ,a dog naturally loves a man above his own species1 and very commonly meets with a return of affection4 ,as animals are but little susceptible either of the pleasures or pains of the imagination1 they can judge of objects only by the sensible good or evil1 which they produce1 and from that must regulate their affections towards them4 ,accordingly we find1 that by benefits or injuries we produce their love or hatred2 and that by feeding and cherishing any animal1 we quickly acquire his affections2 as by beating and abusing him we never fail to draw on us his enmity and ill-will4 ,love in beasts is not caused so much by relation1 as in our species2 and that because their thoughts are not so active as to trace relations1 except in very obvious instances4 ,yet it is easy to remark1 that on some occasions it has a considerable influence upon them4 ,thus acquaintance1 which has the same effect as relation1 always produces love in animals either to men or to each other4 ,for the same reason any likeness among them is the source of affection4 ,an ox confined to a park with horses1 will naturally join their company1 if ,i may so speak1 but always leaves it to enjoy that of his own species1 where he has the choice of both4 ,the affection of parents to their young proceeds from a peculiar instinct in animals1 as well as in our species4 ,it is evident1 that sympathy1 or the communication of passions1 takes place among animals1 no less than among men4 ,fear1 anger1 courage1 and other affections are frequently communicated from one animal to another1 without their knowledge of that cause1 which produced the original passion4 ,grief likewise is received by sympathy2 and produces almost all the same consequences1 and excites the same emotions as in our species4 ,the howlings and lamentations of a dog produce a sensible concern in his fellows4 ,and it is remarkable1 that though almost all animals use in play the same member1 and nearly the same action as in fighting2 a lion1 a tyger1 a cat their paws2 an ox his horns2 a dog his teeth2 a horse his heels3 ,yet they most carefully avoid harming their companion1 even though they have nothing to fear from his resentment2 which is an evident proof of the sense brutes have of each other's pain and pleasure4 ,every one has observed how much more dogs are animated when they hunt in a pack1 than when they pursue their game apart2 and it is evident this can proceed from nothing but from sympathy4 ,it is also well known to hunters1 that this effect follows in a greater degree1 and even in too great a degree1 where two packs1 that are strangers to each other1 are joined together4 ,we might1 perhaps1 be at a loss to explain this phnomenon1 if we had not experience of a similar in ourselves4 ,envy and malice are passions very remarkable in animals4 ,they are perhaps more common than pity2 as requiring less effort of thought and imagination4 ,,part ,,iii ,,of ,,the ,,will ,,and ,,direct ,,passions ,,sect4 ,i ,,of ,,liberty ,,and ,,necessity ,we come now to explain the direct passions1 or the impressions1 which arise immediately from good or evil1 from pain or pleasure4 ,of this kind are1 desire and aversion1 grief and joy1 hope and fear4 ,of all the immediate effects of pain and pleasure1 there is none more remarkable than the ,,will2 and though properly speaking1 it be not comprehended among the passions1 yet as the full understanding of its nature and properties1 is necessary to the explanation of them1 we shall here make it the subject of our enquiry4 ,i desire it may be observed1 that by the will1 ,i mean nothing but the internal impression we feel and are conscious of1 when we knowingly give rise to any new motion of our body1 or new perception of our mind4 ,this impression1 like the preceding ones of pride and humility1 love and hatred1 it is impossible to define1 and needless to describe any farther2 for which reason we shall cut off all those definitions and distinctions1 with which philosophers are wont to perplex rather than dear up this question2 and entering at first upon the subject1 shall examine that long disputed question concerning liberty and necessity2 which occurs so naturally in treating of the will4 ,it is universally acknowledged1 that the operations of external bodies are necessary1 and that in the communication of their motion1 in their attraction1 and mutual cohesion1 there are nor the least traces of indifference or liberty4 ,every object is determined by an absolute fate to a certain degree and direction of its motion1 and can no more depart from that precise line1 in which it moves1 than it can convert itself into an angel1 or spirit1 or any superior substance4 ,the actions1 therefore1 of matter are to be regarded as instances of necessary actions2 and whatever is in this respect on the same footing with matter1 must be acknowledged to be necessary4 ,that we may know whether this be the case with the actions of the mind1 we shall begin with examining matter1 and considering on what the idea of a necessity in its operations are founded1 and why we conclude one body or action to be the infallible cause of another4 ,it has been observed already1 that in no single instance the ultimate connexion of any objects is discoverable1 either by our senses or reason1 and that we can never penetrate so far into the essence and construction of bodies1 as to perceive the principle1 on which their mutual influence depends4 ,it is their constant union alone1 with which we are acquainted2 and it is from the constant union the necessity arises4 ,if objects had nor an uniform and regular conjunction with each other1 we should never arrive at any idea of cause and effect2 and even after all1 the necessity1 which enters into that idea1 is nothing but a determination of the mind to pass from one object to its usual attendant1 and infer the existence of one from that of the other4 ,here then are two particulars1 which we are to consider as essential to necessity1 viz1 the constant union and the inference of the mind2 and wherever we discover these we must acknowledge a necessity4 ,as the actions of matter have no necessity1 but what is derived from these circumstances1 and it is not by any insight into the essence of bodies we discover their connexion1 the absence of this insight1 while the union and inference remain1 will never1 in any case1 remove the necessity4 ,it is the observation of the union1 which produces the inference2 for which reason it might be thought sufficient1 if we prove a constant union in the actions of the mind1 in order to establish the inference1 along with the necessity of these actions4 ,but that ,i may bestow a greater force on my reasoning1 ,i shall examine these particulars apart1 and shall first prove from experience that our actions have a constant union with our motives1 tempers1 and circumstances1 before ,i consider the inferences we draw from it4 ,to this end a very slight and general view of the common course of human affairs will be sufficient4 ,there is no light1 in which we can take them1 that does nor confirm this principle4 ,whether we consider mankind according to the difference of sexes1 ages1 governments1 conditions1 or methods of education2 the same uniformity and regular operation of natural principles are discernible4 ,like causes still produce like effects2 in the same manner as in the mutual action of the elements and powers of nature4 ,there are different trees1 which regularly produce fruit1 whose relish is different from each other2 and this regularity will be admitted as an instance of necessity and causes in external bodies4 ,but are the products of ,guienne and of ,champagne more regularly different than the sentiments1 actions1 and passions of the two sexes1 of which the one are distinguished by their force and maturity1 the other by their delicacy and softness8 ,are the changes of our body from infancy to old age more regular and certain than those of our mind and conduct8 ,and would a man be more ridiculous1 who would expect that an infant of four years old will raise a weight of three hundred pound1 than one1 who from a person of the same age would look for a philosophical reasoning1 or a prudent and well-concerted action8 ,we must certainly allow1 that the cohesion of the parts of matter arises from natural and necessary principles1 whatever difficulty we may find in explaining them3 ,and for a reason we must allow1 that human society is founded on like principles2 and our reason in the latter case1 is better than even that in the former2 because we not only observe1 that men always seek society1 but can also explain the principles1 on which this universal propensity is founded4 ,for is it more certain1 that two flat pieces of marble will unite together1 than that two young savages of different sexes will copulate8 ,do the children arise from this copulation more uniformly1 than does the parents care for their safety and preservation8 ,and after they have arrived at years of discretion by the care of their parents1 are the inconveniencies attending their separation more certain than their foresight of these inconveniencies and their care of avoiding them by a close union and confederacy8 ,the skin1 pores1 muscles1 and nerves of a day-labourer are different from those of a man of quality3 ,so are his sentiments1 actions and manners4 ,the different stations of life influence the whole fabric1 external and internal2 and different stations arise necessarily1 because uniformly1 from the necessary and uniform principles of human nature4 ,men cannot live without society1 and cannot be associated without government4 ,government makes a distinction of property1 and establishes the different ranks of men4 ,this produces industry1 traffic1 manufactures1 law-suits1 war1 leagues1 alliances1 voyages1 travels1 cities1 fleets1 ports1 and all those other actions and objects1 which cause such a diversity1 and at the same time maintain such an uniformity in human life4 ,should a traveller1 returning from a far country1 tell us1 that he had seen a climate in the fiftieth degree of northern latitude1 where all the fruits ripen and come to perfection in the winter1 and decay in the summer1 after the same manner as in ,england they are produced and decay in the contrary seasons1 he would find few so credulous as to believe him4 ,i am apt to think a travellar would meet with as little credit1 who should inform us of people exactly of the same character with those in ,plato's republic on the one hand1 or those in ,hobbes's ,leviathan on the other4 ,there is a general course of nature in human actions1 as well as in the operations of the sun and the climate4 ,there are also characters peculiar to different nations and particular persons1 as well as common to mankind4 ,the knowledge of these characters is founded on the observation of an uniformity in the actions1 that flow from them2 and this uniformity forms the very essence of necessity4 ,i can imagine only one way of eluding this argument1 which is by denying that uniformity of human actions1 on which it is founded4 ,as long as actions have a constant union and connexion with the situation and temper of the agent1 however we may in words refuse to acknowledge the necessity1 we really allow the thing4 ,now some may1 perhaps1 find a pretext to deny this regular union and connexion4 ,for what is more capricious than human actions8 ,what more inconstant than the desires of man8 ,and what creature departs more widely1 not only from right reason1 but from his own character and disposition8 ,an hour1 a moment is sufficient to make him change from one extreme to another1 and overturn what cost the greatest pain and labour to establish4 ,necessity is regular and certain4 ,human conduct is irregular and uncertain4 ,the one1 therefore1 proceeds not from the other4 ,to this ,i reply1 that in judging of the actions of men we must proceed upon the same maxims1 as when we reason concerning external objects4 ,when any phaenomena are constantly and invariably conjoined together1 they acquire such a connexion in the imagination1 that it passes from one to the other1 without any doubt or hesitation4 ,but below this there are many inferior degrees of evidence and probability1 nor does one single contrariety of experiment entirely destroy all our reasoning4 ,the mind ballances the contrary experiments1 and deducting the inferior from the superior1 proceeds with that degree of assurance or evidence1 which remains4 ,even when these contrary experiments are entirely equal1 we remove not the notion of causes and necessity2 but supposing that the usual contrariety proceeds from the operation of contrary and concealed causes1 we conclude1 that the chance or indifference lies only in our judgment on account of our imperfect knowledge1 not in the things themselves1 which are in every case equally necessary1 though to appearance not equally constant or certain4 ,no union can be more constant and certain1 than that of some actions with some motives and characters2 and if in other cases the union is uncertain1 it is no more than what happens in the operations of body1 nor can we conclude any thing from the one irregularity1 which will not follow equally from the other4 ,it is commonly allowed that mad-men have no liberty4 ,but were we to judge by their actions1 these have less regularity and constancy than the actions of wise-men1 and consequently are farther removed from necessity4 ,our way of thinking in this particular is1 therefore1 absolutely inconsistent2 but is a natural consequence of these confused ideas and undefined terms1 which we so commonly make use of in our reasonings1 especially on the present subject4 ,we must now shew1 that as the union betwixt motives and actions has the same constancy1 as that in any natural operations1 so its influence on the understanding is also the same1 in determining us to infer the existence of one from that of another4 ,if this shall appear1 there is no known circumstance1 that enters into the connexion and production of the actions of matter1 that is not to be found in all the operations of the mind2 and consequently we cannot1 without a manifest absurdity1 attribute necessity to the one1 and refuse into the other4 ,there is no philosopher1 whose judgment is so riveted to this fantastical system of liberty1 as not to acknowledge the force of moral evidence1 and both in speculation and practice proceed upon it1 as upon a reasonable foundation4 ,now moral evidence is nothing but a conclusion concerning the actions of men1 derived from the consideration of their motives1 temper and situation4 ,thus when we see certain characters or figures described upon paper1 we infer that the person1 who produced them1 would affirm such facts1 the death of ,caesar1 the success of ,augustus1 the cruelty of ,nero2 and remembering many other concurrent testimonies we conclude1 that those facts were once really existant1 and that so many men1 without any interest1 would never conspire to deceive us2 especially since they must1 in the attempt1 expose themselves to the derision of all their contemporaries1 when these facts were asserted to be recent and universally known4 ,the same kind of reasoning runs through politics1 war1 commerce1 economy1 and indeed mixes itself so entirely in human life1 that it is impossible to act or subsist a moment without having recourse to it4 ,a prince1 who imposes a tax upon his subjects1 expects their compliance4 ,a general1 who conducts an army1 makes account of a certain degree of courage4 ,a merchant looks for fidelity and skill in his factor or super-cargo4 ,a man1 who gives orders for his dinner1 doubts not of the obedience of his servants4 ,in short1 as nothing more nearly interests us than our own actions and those of others1 the greatest part of our reasonings is employed in judgments concerning them4 ,now ,i assert1 that whoever reasons after this manner1 does ipso facto believe the actions of the will to arise from necessity1 and that he knows not what he means1 when he denies it4 ,all those objects1 of which we call the one cause and the other effect1 considered in themselves1 are as distinct and separate from each other1 as any two things in nature1 nor can we ever1 by the most accurate survey of them1 infer the existence of the one from that of the other4 ,it is only from experience and the observation of their constant union1 that we are able to form this inference2 and even after all1 the inference is nothing but the effects of custom on the imagination4 ,we must not here be content with saying1 that the idea of cause and effect arises from objects constantly united2 but must affirm1 that it is the very same with the idea of those objects1 and that the necessary connexion is not discovered by a conclusion of the understanding1 but is merely a perception of the mind4 ,wherever1 therefore1 we observe the same union1 and wherever the union operates in the same manner upon the belief and opinion1 we have the idea of causes and necessity1 though perhaps we may avoid those expressions4 ,motion in one body in all past instances1 that have fallen under our observation1 is followed upon impulse by motion in another4 ,it is impossible for the mind to penetrate farther4 ,from this constant union it forms the idea of cause and effect1 and by its influence feels the necessity4 ,as there is the same constancy1 and the same influence in what we call moral evidence1 ,i ask no more4 ,what remains can only be a dispute of words4 ,and indeed1 when we consider how aptly natural and moral evidence cement together1 and form only one chain of argument betwixt them1 we shall make no scruple to allow1 that they are of the same nature1 and derived from the same principles4 ,a prisoner1 who has neither money nor interest1 discovers the impossibility of his escape1 as well from the obstinacy of the goaler1 as from the walls and bars with which he is surrounded2 and in all attempts for his freedom chuses rather to work upon the stone and iron of the one1 than upon the inflexible nature of the other4 ,the same prisoner1 when conducted to the scaffold1 foresees his death as certainly from the constancy and fidelity of his guards as from the operation of the ax or wheel4 ,his mind runs along a certain train of ideas3 ,the refusal of the soldiers to consent to his escape1 the action of the executioner2 the separation of the head and body2 bleeding1 convulsive motions1 and death4 ,here is a connected chain of natural causes and voluntary actions2 but the mind feels no difference betwixt them in passing from one link to another2 nor is less certain of the future event than if it were connected with the present impressions of the memory and senses by a train of causes cemented together by what we are pleased to call a physical necessity4 ,the same experienced union has the same effect on the mind1 whether the united objects be motives1 volitions and actions2 or figure and motion4 ,we may change the names of things2 but their nature and their operation on the understanding never change4 ,i dare be positive no one will ever endeavour to refute these reasonings otherwise than by altering my definitions1 and assigning a different meaning to the terms of cause1 and effect1 and necessity1 and liberty1 and chance4 ,according to my definitions1 necessity makes an essential part of causation2 and consequently liberty1 by removing necessity1 removes also causes1 and is the very same thing with chance4 ,as chance is commonly thought to imply a contradiction1 and is at least directly contrary to experience1 there are always the same arguments against liberty or free-will4 ,if any one alters the definitions1 ,i cannot pretend to argue with him1 until ,i know the meaning he assigns to these terms4 ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,the ,,same ,,subject ,c,o,n,t,i,n,ued ,i believe we may assign the three following reasons for the prevalance of the doctrine of liberty1 however absurd it may be in one sense1 and unintelligible in any other4 ,first1 ,after we have performed any action2 though we confess we were influenced by particular views and motives2 it is difficult for us to persuade ourselves we were governed by necessity1 and that it was utterly impossible for us to have acted otherwise2 the idea of necessity seeming to imply something of force1 and violence1 and constraint1 of which we are not sensible4 ,few are capable of distinguishing betwixt the liberty of spontaniety1 as it is called in the schools1 and the liberty of indifference2 betwixt that which is opposed to violence1 and that which means a negation of necessity and causes4 ,the first is even the most common sense of the word2 and as it is only that species of liberty1 which it concerns us to preserve1 our thoughts have been principally turned towards it1 and have almost universally confounded it with the other4 ,secondly1 ,there is a false sensation or experience even of the liberty of indifference2 which is regarded as an argument for its real existence4 ,the necessity of any action1 whether of matter or of the mind1 is not properly a quality in the agent1 but in any thinking or intelligent being1 who may consider the action1 and consists in the determination of his thought to infer its existence from some preceding objects3 ,as liberty or chance1 on the other hand1 is nothing but the want of that determination1 and a certain looseness1 which we feel in passing or not passing from the idea of one to that of the other4 ,now we may observe1 that though in reflecting on human actions we seldom feel such a looseness or indifference1 yet it very commonly happens1 that in performing the actions themselves we are sensible of something like it3 ,and as all related or resembling objects are readily taken for each other1 this has been employed as a demonstrative or even an intuitive proof of human liberty4 ,we feel that our actions are subject to our will on most occasions1 and imagine we feel that the will itself is subject to nothing2 because when by a denial of it we are provoked to try1 we feel that it moves easily every way1 and produces an image of itself even on that side1 on which it did not settle4 ,this image or faint motion1 we persuade ourselves1 could have been compleated into the thing itself2 because1 should that be denyed1 we find1 upon a second trial1 that it can4 ,but these efforts are all in vain2 and whatever capricious and irregular actions we may perform2 as the desire of showing our liberty is the sole motive of our actions2 we can never free ourselves from the bonds of necessity4 ,we may imagine we feel a liberty within ourselves2 but a spectator can commonly infer our actions from our motives and character2 and even where he cannot1 he concludes in general1 that he might1 were he perfectly acquainted with every circumstance of our situation and temper1 and the most secret springs of our complexion and disposition4 ,now this is the very essence of necessity1 according to the foregoing doctrine4 ,a third reason why the doctrine of liberty has generally been better received in the world1 than its antagonist1 proceeds from religion1 which has been very unnecessarily interested in this question4 ,there is no method of reasoning more common1 and yet none more blameable1 than in philosophical debates to endeavour to refute any hypothesis by a pretext of its dangerous consequences to religion and morality4 ,when any opinion leads us into absurdities1 it is certainly false2 but it is not certain an opinion is false1 because it is of dangerous consequence4 ,such topics1 therefore1 ought entirely to be foreborn1 as serving nothing to the discovery of truth1 but only to make the person of an antagonist odious4 ,this ,i observe in general1 without pretending to draw any advantage from it4 ,i submit myself frankly to an examination of this kind1 and dare venture to affirm1 that the doctrine of necessity1 according to my explication of it1 is not only innocent1 but even advantageous to religion and morality4 ,i define necessity two ways1 conformable to the two definitions of cause1 of which it makes an essential part4 ,i place it either in the constant union and conjunction of like objects1 or in the inference of the mind from the one to the other4 ,now necessity1 in both these senses1 has universally1 though tacitly1 in the schools1 in the pulpit1 and in common life1 been allowed to belong to the will of man1 and no one has ever pretended to deny1 that we can draw inferences concerning human actions1 and that those inferences are founded on the experienced union of like actions with like motives and circumstances4 ,the only particular in which any one can differ from me1 is either1 that perhaps he will refuse to call this necessity4 ,but as long as the meaning is understood1 ,i hope the word can do no harm4 ,or that he will maintain there is something else in the operations of matter4 ,now whether it be so or not is of no consequence to religion1 whatever it may be to natural philosophy4 ,i may be mistaken in asserting1 that we have no idea of any other connexion in the actions of body1 and shall be glad to be farther instructed on that head3 ,but sure ,i am1 ,i ascribe nothing to the actions of the mind1 but what must readily be allowed of4 ,let no one1 therefore1 put an invidious construction on my words1 by saying simply1 that ,i assert the necessity of human actions1 and place them on the same footing with the operations of senseless matter4 ,i do not ascribe to the will that unintelligible necessity1 which is supposed to lie in matter4 ,but ,i ascribe to matter1 that intelligible quality1 call it necessity or not1 which the most rigorous orthodoxy does or must allow to belong to the will4 ,i change1 therefore1 nothing in the received systems1 with regard to the will1 but only with regard to material objects4 ,nay ,i shall go farther1 and assert1 that this kind of necessity is so essential to religion and morality1 that without it there must ensue an absolute subversion of both1 and that every other supposition is entirely destructive to all laws both divine and human4 ,it is indeed certain1 that as all human laws are founded on rewards and punishments1 it is supposed as a fundamental principle1 that these motives have an influence on the mind1 and both produce the good and prevent the evil actions4 ,we may give to this influence what name we please2 but as it is usually conjoined with the action1 common sense requires it should be esteemed a cause1 and be booked upon as an instance of that necessity1 which ,i would establish4 ,this reasoning is equally solid1 when applied to divine laws1 so far as the deity is considered as a legislator1 and is supposed to inflict punishment and bestow rewards with a design to produce obedience4 ,but ,i also maintain1 that even where he acts not in his magisterial capacity1 but is regarded as the avenger of crimes merely on account of their odiousness and deformity1 not only it is impossible1 without the necessary connexion of cause and effect in human actions1 that punishments could be inflicted compatible with justice and moral equity2 but also that it could ever enter into the thoughts of any reasonable being to inflict them4 ,the constant and universal object of hatred or anger is a person or creature endowed with thought and consciousness2 and when any criminal or injurious actions excite that passion1 it is only by their relation to the person or connexion with him4 ,but according to the doctrine of liberty or chance1 this connexion is reduced to nothing1 nor are men more accountable for those actions1 which are designed and premeditated1 than for such as are the most casual and accidental4 ,actions are by their very nature temporary and perishing2 and where they proceed not from some cause in the characters and disposition of the person1 who performed them1 they infix not themselves upon him1 and can neither redound to his honour1 if good1 nor infamy1 if evil4 ,the action itself may be blameable2 it may be contrary to all the rules of morality and religion3 ,but the person is not responsible for it2 and as it proceeded from nothing in him1 that is durable or constant1 and leaves nothing of that nature behind it1 it is impossible he can1 upon its account1 become the object of punishment or vengeance4 ,according to the hypothesis of liberty1 therefore1 a man is as pure and untainted1 after having committed the most horrid crimes1 as at the first moment of his birth1 nor is his character any way concerned in his actions2 since they are not derived from it1 and the wickedness of the one can never be used as a proof of the depravity of the other4 ,it is only upon the principles of necessity1 that a person acquires any merit or demerit from his actions1 however the common opinion may incline to the contrary4 ,but so inconsistent are men with themselves1 that though they often assert1 that necessity utterly destroys all merit and demerit either towards mankind or superior powers1 yet they continue still to reason upon these very principles of necessity in all their judgments concerning this matter4 ,men are not blamed for such evil actions as they perform ignorantly and casually1 whatever may be their consequences4 ,why8 but because the causes of these actions are only momentary1 and terminate in them alone4 ,men are less blamed for such evil actions1 as they perform hastily and unpremeditately1 than for such as proceed from thought and deliberation4 ,for what reason8 but because a hasty temper1 though a constant cause in the mind1 operates only by intervals1 and infects not the whole character4 ,again1 repentance wipes off every crime1 especially if attended with an evident reformation of life and manners4 ,how is this to be accounted for8 ,but by asserting that actions render a person criminal1 merely as they are proofs of criminal passions or principles in the mind2 and when by any alteration of these principles they cease to be just proofs1 they likewise cease to be criminal4 ,but according to the doctrine of liberty or chance they never were just proofs1 and consequently never were criminal4 ,here then ,i turn to my adversary1 and desire him to free his own system from these odious consequences before he charge them upon others4 ,or if he rather chuses1 that this question should be decided by fair arguments before philosophers1 than by declamations before the people1 let him return to what ,i have advanced to prove that liberty and chance are synonimous2 and concerning the nature of moral evidence and the regularity of human actions4 ,upon a review of these reasonings1 ,i cannot doubt of an entire victory2 and therefore having proved1 that all actions of the will have particular causes1 ,i proceed to explain what these causes are1 and how they operate4 ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,of ,,the ,,influencing ,,motives ,,of ,,the ,,will ,nothing is more usual in philosophy1 and even in common life1 than to talk of the combat of passion and reason1 to give the preference to reason1 and assert that men are only so far virtuous as they conform themselves to its dictates4 ,every rational creature1 it is said1 is obliged to regulate his actions by reason2 and if any other motive or principle challenge the direction of his conduct1 he ought to oppose it1 till it be entirely subdued1 or at least brought to a conformity with that superior principle4 ,on this method of thinking the greatest part of moral philosophy1 antient and modern1 seems to be founded2 nor is there an ampler field1 as well for metaphysical arguments1 as popular declamations1 than this supposed pre-eminence of reason above passion4 ,the eternity1 invariableness1 and divine origin of the former have been displayed to the best advantage3 ,the blindness1 unconstancy1 and deceitfulness of the latter have been as strongly insisted on4 ,in order to shew the fallacy of all this philosophy1 ,i shall endeavour to prove first1 that reason alone can never be a motive to any action of the will2 and secondly1 that it can never oppose passion in the direction of the will4 ,the understanding exerts itself after two different ways1 as it judges from demonstration or probability2 as it regards the abstract relations of our ideas1 or those relations of objects1 of which experience only gives us information4 ,i believe it scarce will be asserted1 that the first species of reasoning alone is ever the cause of any action4 ,as its proper province is the world of ideas1 and as the will always places us in that of realities1 demonstration and volition seem1 upon that account1 to be totally removed1 from each other4 ,mathematics1 indeed1 are useful in all mechanical operations1 and arithmetic in almost every art and profession3 ,but it is not of themselves they have any influence3 ,mechanics are the art of regulating the motions of bodies to some designed end or purpose2 and the reason why we employ arithmetic in fixing the proportions of numbers1 is only that we may discover the proportions of their influence and operation4 ,a merchant is desirous of knowing the sum total of his accounts with any person3 ,why8 but that he may learn what sum will have the same effects in paying his debt1 and going to market1 as all the particular articles taken together4 ,abstract or demonstrative reasoning1 therefore1 never influences any of our actions1 but only as it directs our judgment concerning causes and effects2 which leads us to the second operation of the understanding4 ,it is obvious1 that when we have the prospect of pain or pleasure from any object1 we feel a consequent emotion of aversion or propensity1 and are carryed to avoid or embrace what will give us this uneasines or satisfaction4 ,it is also obvious1 that this emotion rests not here1 but making us cast our view on every side1 comprehends whatever objects are connected with its original one by the relation of cause and effect4 ,here then reasoning takes place to discover this relation2 and according as our reasoning varies1 our actions receive a subsequent variation4 ,but it is evident in this case that the impulse arises not from reason1 but is only directed by it4 ,it is from the prospect of pain or pleasure that the aversion or propensity arises towards any object3 ,and these emotions extend themselves to the causes and effects of that object1 as they are pointed out to us by reason and experience4 ,it can never in the least concern us to know1 that such objects are causes1 and such others effects1 if both the causes and effects be indifferent to us4 ,where the objects themselves do not affect us1 their connexion can never give them any influence2 and it is plain1 that as reason is nothing but the discovery of this connexion1 it cannot be by its means that the objects are able to affect us4 ,since reason alone can never produce any action1 or give rise to volition1 ,i infer1 that the same faculty is as incapable of preventing volition1 or of disputing the preference with any passion or emotion4 ,this consequence is necessary4 ,it is impossible reason could have the latter effect of preventing volition1 but by giving an impulse in a contrary direction to our passion2 and that impulse1 had it operated alone1 would have been able to produce volition4 ,nothing can oppose or retard the impulse of passion1 but a contrary impulse2 and if this contrary impulse ever arises from reason1 that latter faculty must have an original influence on the will1 and must be able to cause1 as well as hinder any act of volition4 ,but if reason has no original influence1 it is impossible it can withstand any principle1 which has such an efficacy1 or ever keep the mind in suspence a moment4 ,thus it appears1 that the principle1 which opposes our passion1 cannot be the same with reason1 and is only called so in an improper sense4 ,we speak not strictly and philosophically when we talk of the combat of passion and of reason4 ,reason is1 and ought only to be the slave of the passions1 and can never pretend to any other office than to serve and obey them4 ,as this opinion may appear somewhat extraordinary1 it may not be improper to confirm it by some other considerations4 ,a passion is an original existence1 or1 if you will1 modification of existence1 and contains not any representative quality1 which renders it a copy of any other existence or modification4 ,when ,i am angry1 ,i am actually possest with the passion1 and in that emotion have no more a reference to any other object1 than when ,i am thirsty1 or sick1 or more than five foot high4 ,it is impossible1 therefore1 that this passion can be opposed by1 or be contradictory to truth and reason2 since this contradiction consists in the disagreement of ideas1 considered as copies1 with those objects1 which they represent4 ,what may at first occur on this head1 is1 that as nothing can be contrary to truth or reason1 except what has a reference to it1 and as the judgments of our understanding only have this reference1 it must follow1 that passions can be contrary to reason only so far as they are accompanyed with some judgment or opinion4 ,according to this principle1 which is so obvious and natural1 it is only in two senses1 that any affection can be called unreasonable4 ,first1 ,when a passion1 such as hope or fear1 grief or joy1 despair or security1 is founded on the supposition or the existence of objects1 which really do not exist4 ,secondly1 ,when in exerting any passion in action1 we chuse means insufficient for the designed end1 and deceive ourselves in our judgment of causes and effects4 ,where a passion is neither founded on false suppositions1 nor chuses means insufficient for the end1 the understanding can neither justify nor condemn it4 ,it is not contrary to reason to prefer the destruction of the whole world to the scratching of my finger4 ,it is not contrary to reason for me to chuse my total ruin1 to prevent the least uneasiness of an ,indian or person wholly unknown to me4 ,it is as little contrary to reason to prefer even my own acknowledgeed lesser good to my greater1 and have a more ardent affection for the former than the latter4 ,a trivial good may1 from certain circumstances1 produce a desire superior to what arises from the greatest and most valuable enjoyment2 nor is there any thing more extraordinary in this1 than in mechanics to see one pound weight raise up a hundred by the advantage of its situation4 ,in short1 a passion must be accompanyed with some false judgment in order to its being unreasonable2 and even then it is not the passion1 properly speaking1 which is unreasonable1 but the judgment4 ,the consequences are evident4 ,since a passion can never1 in any sense1 be called unreasonable1 but when founded on a false supposition or when it chuses means insufficient for the designed end1 it is impossible1 that reason and passion can ever oppose each other1 or dispute for the government of the will and actions4 ,the moment we perceive the falshood of any supposition1 or the insufficiency of any means our passions yield to our reason without any opposition4 ,i may desire any fruit as of an excellent relish2 but whenever you convince me of my mistake1 my longing ceases4 ,i may will the performance of certain actions as means of obtaining any desired good2 but as my willing of these actions is only secondary1 and founded on the supposition1 that they are causes of the proposed effect2 as soon as ,i discover the falshood of that supposition1 they must become indifferent to me4 ,it is natural for one1 that does not examine objects with a strict philosophic eye1 to imagine1 that those actions of the mind are entirely the same1 which produce not a different sensation1 and are not immediately distinguishable to the feeling and perception4 ,reason1 for instance1 exerts itself without producing any sensible emotion2 and except in the more sublime disquisitions of philosophy1 or in the frivolous subtilties of the school1 scarce ever conveys any pleasure or uneasiness4 ,hence it proceeds1 that every action of the mind1 which operates with the same calmness and tranquillity1 is confounded with reason by all those1 who judge of things from the first view and appearance4 ,now it is certain1 there are certain calm desires and tendencies1 which1 though they be real passions1 produce little emotion in the mind1 and are more known by their effects than by the immediate feeling or sensation4 ,these desires are of two kinds2 either certain instincts originally implanted in our natures1 such as benevolence and resentment1 the love of life1 and kindness to children2 or the general appetite to good1 and aversion to evil1 considered merely as such4 ,when any of these passions are calm1 and cause no disorder in the soul1 they are very readily taken for the determinations of reason1 and are supposed to proceed from the same faculty1 with that1 which judges of truth and falshood4 ,their nature and principles have been supposed the same1 because their sensations are not evidently different4 ,beside these calm passions1 which often determine the will1 there are certain violent emotions of the same kind1 which have likewise a great influence on that faculty4 ,when ,i receive any injury from another1 ,i often feel a violent passion of resentment1 which makes me desire his evil and punishment1 independent of all considerations of pleasure and advantage to myself4 ,when ,i am immediately threatened with any grievous ill1 my fears1 apprehensions1 and aversions rise to a great height1 and produce a sensible emotion4 ,the common error of metaphysicians has lain in ascribing the direction of the will entirely to one of these principles1 and supposing the other to have no influence4 ,men often act knowingly against their interest3 ,for which reason the view of the greatest possible good does not always influence them4 ,men often counter-act a violent passion in prosecution of their interests and designs3 ,it is not therefore the present uneasiness alone1 which determines them4 ,in general we may observe1 that both these principles operate on the will2 and where they are contrary1 that either of them prevails1 according to the general character or present disposition of the person4 ,what we call strength of mind1 implies the prevalence of the calm passions above the violent2 though we may easily observe1 there is no man so constantly possessed of this virtue1 as never on any occasion to yield to the sollicitations of passion and desire4 ,from these variations of temper proceeds the great difficulty of deciding concerning the actions and resolutions of men1 where there is any contrariety of motives and passions4 ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,the ,,causes ,,of ,,the ,,violent ,,passions ,there is not in philosophy a subject of more nice speculation than this of the different causes and effects of the calm and violent passions4 ,it is evident passions influence not the will in proportion to their violence1 or the disorder they occasion in the temper2 but on the contrary1 that when a passion has once become a settled principle of action1 and is the predominant inclination of the soul1 it commonly produces no longer any sensible agitation4 ,as repeated custom and its own force have made every thing yield to it1 it directs the actions and conduct without that opposition and emotion1 which so naturally attend every momentary gust of passion4 ,we must1 therefore1 distinguish betwixt a calm and a weak passion2 betwixt a violent and a strong one4 ,but notwithstanding this1 it is certain1 that when we would govern a man1 and push him to any action1 it will commonly be better policy to work upon the violent than the calm passions1 and rather take him by his inclination1 than what is vulgarly called his reason4 ,we ought to place the object in such particular situations as are proper to encrease the violence of the passion4 ,for we may observe1 that all depends upon the situation of the object1 and that a variation in this particular will be able to change the calm and the violent passions into each other4 ,both these kinds of passions pursue good1 and avoid evil2 and both of them are encreased or diminished by the encrease or diminution of the good or evil4 ,but herein lies the difference betwixt them3 ,the same good1 when near1 will cause a violent passion1 which1 when remote1 produces only a calm one4 ,as this subject belongs very properly to the present question concerning the will1 we shall here examine it to the bottom1 and shall consider some of those circumstances and situations of objects1 which render a passion either calm or violent4 ,it is a remarkable property of human nature1 that any emotion1 which attends a passion1 is easily converted into it1 though in their natures they be originally different from1 and even contrary to each other4 ,it is true2 in order to make a perfect union among passions1 there is always required a double relation of impressions and ideas2 nor is one relation sufficient for that purpose4 ,but though this be confirmed by undoubted experience1 we must understand it with its proper limitations1 and must regard the double relation1 as requisite only to make one passion produce another4 ,when two passions are already produced by their separate causes1 and are both present in the mind1 they readily mingle and unite1 though they have but one relation1 and sometimes without any4 ,the predominant passion swallows up the inferior1 and converts it into itself4 ,the spirits1 when once excited1 easily receive a change in their direction2 and it is natural to imagine this change will come from the prevailing affection4 ,the connexion is in many respects closer betwixt any two passions1 than betwixt any passion and indifference4 ,when a person is once heartily in love1 the little faults and caprices of his mistress1 the jealousies and quarrels1 to which that commerce is so subject2 however unpleasant and related to anger and hatred2 are yet found to give additional force to the prevailing passion4 ,it is a common artifice of politicians1 when they would affect any person very much by a matter of fact1 of which they intend to inform him1 first to excite his curiosity2 delay as long as possible the satisfying it2 and by that means raise his anxiety and impatience to the utmost1 before they give him a full insight into the business4 ,they know that his curiosity will precipitate him into the passion they design to raise1 and assist the object in its influence on the mind4 ,a soldier advancing to the battle1 is naturally inspired with courage and confidence1 when he thinks on his friends and fellow-soldiers2 and is struck with fear and terror1 when he reflects on the enemy4 ,whatever new emotion1 therefore1 proceeds from the former naturally encreases the courage2 as the same emotion1 proceeding from the latter1 augments the fear2 by the relation of ideas1 and the conversion of the inferior emotion into the predominant4 ,hence it is that in martial discipline1 the uniformity and lustre of our habit1 the regularity of our figures and motions1 with all the pomp and majesty of war1 encourage ourselves and allies2 while the same objects in the enemy strike terror into us1 though agreeable and beautiful in themselves4 ,since passions1 however independent1 are naturally transfused into each other1 if they are both present at the same time2 it follows1 that when good or evil is placed in such a situation1 as to cause any particular emotion1 beside its direct passion of desire or aversion1 that latter passion must acquire new force and violence4 ,this happens1 among other cases1 whenever any object excites contrary passions4 ,for it is observable that an opposition of passions commonly causes a new emotion in the spirits1 and produces more disorder1 than the concurrence of any two affections of equal force4 ,this new emotion is easily converted into the predominant passion1 and encreases its violence1 beyond the pitch it would have arrived at had it met with no opposition4 ,hence we naturally desire what is forbid1 and take a pleasure in performing actions1 merely because they are unlawful4 ,the notion of duty1 when opposite to the passions1 is seldom able to overcome them2 and when it fails of that effect1 is apt rather to encrease them1 by producing an opposition in our motives and principles4 ,the same effect follows whether the opposition arises from internal motives or external obstacles4 ,the passion commonly acquires new force and violence in both cases4 ,the efforts1 which the mind makes to surmount the obstacle1 excite the spirits and inliven the passion4 ,uncertainty has the same influence as opposition4 ,the agitation of the thought2 the quick turns it makes from one view to another2 the variety of passions1 which succeed each other1 according to the different views2 ,all these produce an agitation in the mind1 and transfuse themselves into the predominant passion4 ,there is not in my opinion any other natural cause1 why security diminishes the passions1 than because it removes that uncertainty1 which encreases them4 ,the mind1 when left to itself1 immediately languishes2 and in order to preserve its ardour1 must be every moment supported by a new flow of passion4 ,for the same reason1 despair1 though contrary to security1 has a like influence4 ,it is certain nothing more powerfully animates any affection1 than to conceal some part of its object by throwing it into a kind of shade1 which at the same time that it chews enough to pre-possess us in favour of the object1 leaves still some work for the imagination4 ,besides that obscurity is always attended with a kind of uncertainty2 the effort1 which the fancy makes to compleat the idea1 rouzes the spirits1 and gives an additional force to the passion4 ,as despair and security1 though contrary to each other1 produce the same effects2 so absence is observed to have contrary effects1 and in different circumstances either encreases or diminishes our affections4 ,the ,duc de ,la ,rochefoucault has very well observed1 that absence destroys weak passions1 but encreases strong2 as the wind extinguishes a candle1 but blows up a fire4 ,long absence naturally weakens our idea1 and diminishes the passion3 ,but where the idea is so strong and lively as to support itself1 the uneasiness1 arising from absence1 encreases the passion and gives it new force and violence4 ,,sect4 ,v ,,of ,,the ,,effects ,,of ,,custom ,but nothing has a greater effect both to encrease and diminish our passions1 to convert pleasure into pain1 and pain into pleasure1 than custom and repetition4 ,custom has two original effects upon the mind1 in bestowing a facility in the performance of any action or the conception of any object2 and afterwards a tendency or inclination towards it2 and from these we may account for all its other effects1 however extraordinary4 ,when the soul applies itself to the performance of any action1 or the conception of any object1 to which it is not accustomed1 there is a certain unpliableness in the faculties1 and a difficulty of the spirit's moving in their new direction4 ,as this difficulty excites the spirits1 it is the source of wonder1 surprize1 and of all the emotions1 which arise from novelty2 and is in itself very agreeable1 like every thing1 which inlivens the mind to a moderate degree4 ,but though surprize be agreeable in itself1 yet as it puts the spirits in agitation1 it not only augments our agreeable affections1 but also our painful1 according to the foregoing principle1 that every emotion1 which precedes or attends a passion1 is easily converted into it4 ,hence every thing1 that is new1 is most affecting1 and gives us either more pleasure or pain1 than what1 strictly speaking1 naturally belongs to it4 ,when it often returns upon us1 the novelty wears off2 the passions subside2 the hurry of the spirits is over2 and we survey the objects with greater tranquillity4 ,by degrees the repetition produces a facility of the human mind1 and an infallible source of pleasure1 where the facility goes not beyond a certain degree4 ,and here it is remarkable that the pleasure1 which arises from a moderate facility1 has not the same tendency with that which arises from novelty1 to augment the painful1 as well as the agreeable affections4 ,the pleasure of facility does not so much consist in any ferment of the spirits1 as in their orderly motion2 which will sometimes be so powerful as even to convert pain into pleasure1 and give us a relish in time what at first was most harsh and disagreeable4 ,but again1 as facility converts pain into pleasure1 so it often converts pleasure into pain1 when it is too great1 and renders the actions of the mind so faint and languid1 that they are no longer able to interest and support it4 ,and indeed1 scarce any other objects become disagreeable through custom2 but such as are naturally attended with some emotion or affection1 which is destroyed by the too frequent repetition4 ,one can consider the clouds1 and heavens1 and trees1 and stones1 however frequently repeated1 without ever feeling any aversion4 ,but when the fair sex1 or music1 or good cheer1 or any thing1 that naturally ought to be agreeable1 becomes indifferent1 it easily produces the opposite affection4 ,but custom not only gives a facility to perform any action1 but likewise an inclination and tendency towards it1 where it is not entirely disagreeable1 and can never be the object of inclination4 ,and this is the reason why custom encreases all active habits1 but diminishes passive1 according to the observation of a late eminent philosopher4 ,the facility takes off from the force of the passive habits by rendering the motion of the spirits faint and languid4 ,but as in the active1 the spirits are sufficiently supported of themselves1 the tendency of the mind gives them new force1 and bends them more strongly to the action4 ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,of ,,the ,,influence ,,of ,,the ,,imagination ,,on ,,the ,,passions ,it is remarkable1 that the imagination and affections have close union together1 and that nothing1 which affects the former1 can be entirely indifferent to the latter4 ,wherever our ideas of good or evil acquire a new vivacity1 the passions become more violent2 and keep pace with the imagination in all its variations4 ,whether this proceeds from the principle above-mentioned1 that any attendant emotion is easily converted into the predominant1 ,i shall not determine4 ,it is sufficient for my present purpose1 that we have many instances to confirm this influence of the imagination upon the passions4 ,any pleasure1 with which we are acquainted1 affects us more than any other1 which we own to be superior1 but of whose nature we are wholly ignorant4 ,of the one we can form a particular and determinate idea3 ,the other we conceive under the general notion of pleasure2 and it is certain1 that the more general and universal any of our ideas are1 the less influence they have upon the imagination4 ,a general idea1 though it be nothing but a particular one considered in a certain view1 is commonly more obscure2 and that because no particular idea1 by which we represent a general one1 is ever fixed or determinate1 but may easily be changed for other particular ones1 which will serve equally in the representation4 ,there is a noted passage in the history of ,greece1 which may serve for our present purpose4 ,themistocles told the ,athenians1 that he had formed a design1 which would be highly useful to the public1 but which it was impossible for him to communicate to them without ruining the execution1 since its success depended entirely on the secrecy with which it should be conducted4 ,the ,athenians1 instead of granting him full power to act as he thought fitting1 ordered him to communicate his design to ,aristides1 in whose prudence they had an entire confidence1 and whose opinion they were resolved blindly to submit to4 ,the design of ,themistocles was secretly to set fire to the fleet of all the ,grecian commonwealths1 which was assembled in a neighbouring port1 and which being once destroyed would give the ,athenians the empire of the sea without any rival ,aristides returned to the assembly1 and told them1 that nothing could be more advantageous than the design of ,themistocles but at the same time that nothing could be more unjust3 ,upon which the people unanimously rejected the project4 ,a late celebrated historian#a admires this passage of antient history1 as one of the most singular that is any where to be met4 #a ,mons4 ,rollin ,charles ,rollin1 ,,histoire ,,ancienne47,paris #agcj-ch74 ,here1 says he1 they are not philosophers1 to whom it is easy in their schools to establish the finest maxims and most sublime rules of morality1 who decide that interest ought never to prevail above justice4 ,it is a whole people interested in the proposal which is made to them1 who consider it as of importance to the public good1 and who notwithstanding reject it unanimously1 and without hesitation1 merely because it is contrary to justice4 ,for my part ,i see nothing so extraordinary in this proceeding of the ,athenians4 ,the same reasons1 which render it so easy for philosophers to establish these sublime maxims1 tend1 in part1 to diminish the merit of such a conduct in that people4 ,philosophers never ballance betwixt profit and honesty1 because their decisions are general1 and neither their passions nor imaginations are interested in the objects4 ,and though in the present case the advantage was immediate to the ,athenians1 yet as it was known only under the general notion of advantage1 without being conceived by any particular idea1 it must have had a less considerable influence on their imaginations1 and have been a less violent temptation1 than if they had been acquainted with all its circumstances3 ,otherwise it is difficult to conceive1 that a whole people1 unjust and violent as men commonly are1 should so unanimously have adhered to justice1 and rejected any considerable advantage4 ,any satisfaction1 which we lately enjoyed1 and of which the memory is fresh and recent1 operates on the will with more violence1 than another of which the traces are decayed1 and almost obliterated4 ,from whence does this proceed1 but that the memory in the first case assists the fancy and gives an additional force and vigour to its conceptions8 ,the image of the past pleasure being strong and violent1 bestows these qualities on the idea of the future pleasure1 which is connected with it by the relation of resemblance4 ,a pleasure1 which is suitable to the way of life1 in which we are engaged1 excites more our desires and appetites than another1 which is foreign to it4 ,this phnomenon may be explained from the same principle4 ,nothing is more capable of infusing any passion into the mind1 than eloquence1 by which objects are represented in their strongest and most lively colours4 ,we may of ourselves acknowledge1 that such an object is valuable1 and such another odious2 but until an orator excites the imagination1 and gives force to these ideas1 they may have but a feeble influence either on the will or the affections4 ,but eloquence is not always necessary4 ,the bare opinion of another1 especially when inforced with passion1 will cause an idea of good or evil to have an influence upon us1 which would otherwise have been entirely neglected4 ,this proceeds from the principle of sympathy or communication2 and sympathy1 as ,i have already observed1 is nothing but the conversion of an idea into an impression by the force of imagination4 ,it is remarkable1 that lively passions commonly attend a lively imagination4 ,in this respect1 as well as others1 the force of the passion depends as much on the temper of the person1 as the nature or situation of the object4 ,i have already observed1 that belief is nothing but a lively idea related to a present impression4 ,this vivacity is a requisite circumstance to the exciting all our passions1 the calm as well as the violent2 nor has a mere fiction of the imagination any considerable influence upon either of them4 ,it is too weak to take hold of the mind1 or be attended with emotion4 ,,sect4 ,,vii ,,of ,,contiguity ,,and ,,distance ,,in ,,space ,,and ,,time ,there is an easy reason1 why every thing contiguous to us1 either in space or time1 should be conceived with a peculiar force and vivacity1 and excel every other object1 in its influence on the imagination4 ,ourself is intimately present to us1 and whatever is related to self must partake of that quality4 ,but where an object is so far removed as to have lost the advantage of this relation1 why1 as it is farther removed1 its idea becomes still fainter and more obscure1 would1 perhaps1 require a more particular examination4 ,it is obvious1 that the imagination can never totally forget the points of space and time1 in which we are existent2 but receives such frequent advertisements of them from the passions and senses1 that however it may turn its attention to foreign and remote objects1 it is necessitated every moment to reflect on the present4 ,it is also remarkable1 that in the conception of those objects1 which we regard as real and existent1 we take them in their proper order and situation1 and never leap from one object to another1 which is distant from it1 without running over1 at least in a cursory manner1 all those objects1 which are interposed betwixt them4 ,when we reflect1 therefore1 on any object distant from ourselves1 we are obliged not only to reach it at first by passing through all the intermediate space betwixt ourselves and the object1 but also to renew our progress every moment2 being every moment recalled to the consideration of ourselves and our present situation4 ,it is easily conceived1 that this interruption must weaken the idea by breaking the action of the mind1 and hindering the conception from being so intense and continued1 as when we reflect on a nearer object4 ,the fewer steps we make to arrive at the object1 and the smoother the road is1 this diminution of vivacity is less sensibly felt1 but still may be observed more or less in proportion to the degrees of distance and difficulty4 ,here then we are to consider two kinds of objects1 the contiguous and remote2 of which the former1 by means of their relation to ourselves1 approach an impression in force and vivacity2 the latter by reason of the interruption in our manner of conceiving them1 appear in a weaker and more imperfect light4 ,this is their effect on the imagination4 ,if my reasoning be just1 they must have a proportionable effect on the will and passions4 ,contiguous objects must have an influence much superior to the distant and remote4 ,accordingly we find in common life1 that men are principally concerned about those objects1 which are not much removed either in space or time1 enjoying the present1 and leaving what is afar off to the care of chance and fortune4 ,talk to a man of his condition thirty years hence1 and he will not regard you4 ,speak of what is to happen tomorrow1 and he will lend you attention4 ,the breaking of a mirror gives us more concern when at home1 than the burning of a house1 when abroad1 and some hundred leagues distant4 ,but farther2 though distance both in space and time has a considerable effect on the imagination1 and by that means on the will and passions1 yet the consequence of a removal in space are much inferior to those of a removal in time4 ,twenty years are certainly but a small distance of time in comparison of what history and even the memory of some may inform them of1 and yet ,i doubt if a thousand leagues1 or even the greatest distance of place this globe can admit of1 will so remarkably weaken our ideas1 and diminish our passions4 ,a ,west-,indian merchant will tell you1 that he is not without concern about what passes in ,jamaica2 though few extend their views so far into futurity1 as to dread very remote accidents4 ,the cause of this phnomenon must evidently lie in the different properties of space and time4 ,without having recourse to metaphysics1 any one may easily observe1 that space or extension consists of a number of co-existent parts disposed in a certain order1 and capable of being at once present to the sight or feeling4 ,on the contrary1 time or succession1 though it consists likewise of parts1 never presents to us more than one at once2 nor is it possible for any two of them ever to be co-existent4 ,these qualities of the objects have a suitable effect on the imagination4 ,the parts of extension being susceptible of an union to the senses1 acquire an union in the fancy2 and as the appearance of one part excludes not another1 the transition or passage of the thought through the contiguous parts is by that means rendered more smooth and easy4 ,on the other hand1 the incompatibility of the parts of time in their real existence separates them in the imagination1 and makes it more difficult for that faculty to trace any long succession or series of events4 ,every part must appear single and alone1 nor can regularly have entrance into the fancy without banishing what is supposed to have been immediately precedent4 ,by this means any distance in time causes a greater interruption in the thought than an equal distance in space1 and consequently weakens more considerably the idea1 and consequently the passions2 which depend in a great measure1 on the imagination1 according to my system4 ,there is another phnomenon of a like nature with the foregoing1 viz1 the superior effects of the same distance in futurity above that in the past4 ,this difference with respect to the will is easily accounted for4 ,as none of our actions can alter the past1 it is not strange it should never determine the will4 ,but with respect to the passions the question is yet entire1 and well worth the examining4 ,besides the propensity to a gradual progression through the points of space and time1 we have another peculiarity in our method of thinking1 which concurs in producing this phnomenon4 ,we always follow the succession of time in placing our ideas1 and from the consideration of any object pass more easily to that1 which follows immediately after it1 than to that which went before it4 ,we may learn this1 among other instances1 from the order1 which is always observed in historical narrations4 ,nothing but an absolute necessity can oblige an historian to break the order of time1 and in his narration give the precedence to an event1 which was in reality posterior to another4 ,this will easily be applied to the question in hand1 if we reflect on what ,i have before observed1 that the present situation of the person is always that of the imagination1 and that it is from thence we proceed to the conception of any distant object4 ,when the object is past1 the progression of the thought in passing to it from the present is contrary to nature1 as proceeding from one point of time to that which is preceding1 and from that to another preceding1 in opposition to the natural course of the succession4 ,on the other hand1 when we turn our thought to a future object1 our fancy flows along the stream of time1 and arrives at the object by an order1 which seems most natural1 passing always from one point of time to that which is immediately posterior to it4 ,this easy progression of ideas favours the imagination1 and makes it conceive its object in a stronger and fuller light1 than when we are continually opposed in our passage1 and are obliged to overcome the difficulties arising from the natural propensity of the fancy4 ,a small degree of distance in the past has1 therefore1 a greater effect1 in interupting and weakening the conception1 than a much greater in the future4 ,from this effect of it on the imagination is derived its influence on the will and passions4 ,there is another cause1 which both contributes to the same effect1 and proceeds from the same quality of the fancy1 by which we are determined to trace the succession of time by a similar succession of ideas4 ,when from the present instant we consider two points of time equally distant in the future and in the past1 it is evident1 that1 abstractedly considered1 their relation to the present is almost equal4 ,for as the future will sometime be present1 so the past was once present4 ,if we could1 therefore1 remove this quality of the imagination1 an equal distance in the past and in the future1 would have a similar influence4 ,nor is this only true1 when the fancy remains fixed1 and from the present instant surveys the future and the past2 but also when it changes its situation1 and places us in different periods of time4 ,for as on the one hand1 in supposing ourselves existent in a point of time interposed betwixt the present instant and the future object1 we find the future object approach to us1 and the past retire1 and become more distant3 so on the other hand1 in supposing ourselves existent in a point of time interposed betwixt the present and the past1 the past approaches to us1 and the future becomes more distant4 ,but from the property of the fancy above-mentioned we rather chuse to fix our thought on the point of time interposed betwixt the present and the future1 than on that betwixt the present and the past4 ,we advance1 rather than retard our existence2 and following what seems the natural succession of time1 proceed from past to present1 and from present to future4 ,by which means we conceive the future as flowing every moment nearer us1 and the past as retiring4 ,an equal distance1 therefore1 in the past and in the future1 has not the same effect on the imagination2 and that because we consider the one as continually encreasing1 and the other as continually diminishing4 ,the fancy anticipates the course of things1 and surveys the object in that condition1 to which it tends1 as well as in that1 which is regarded as the present4 ,,sect4 ,,viii ,,the ,,same ,,subject ,c,o,n,t,i,n,ued ,thus we have accounted for three phaenomena1 which seem pretty remarkable4 ,why distance weakens the conception and passion3 ,why distance in time has a greater effect than that in space3 ,and why distance in past time has still a greater effect than that in future4 ,we must now consider three phaenomena1 which seem to be1 in a manner1 the reverse of these3 ,why a very great distance encreases our esteem and admiration for an object2 ,why such a distance in time encreases it more than that in space3 ,and a distance in past time more than that in future4 ,the curiousness of the subject will1 ,i hope1 excuse my dwelling on it for some time4 ,to begin with the first phnomenon1 why a great distance encreases our esteem and admiration for an object2 it is evident that the mere view and contemplation of any greatness1 whether successive or extended1 enlarges the soul1 and give it a sensible delight and pleasure4 ,a wide plain1 the ocean1 eternity1 a succession of several ages2 all these are entertaining objects1 and excel every thing1 however beautiful1 which accompanies not its beauty with a suitable greatness4 ,now when any very distant object is presented to the imagination1 we naturally reflect on the interposed distance1 and by that means1 conceiving something great and magnificent1 receive the usual satisfaction4 ,but as the fancy passes easily from one idea to another related to it1 and transports to the second all the passions excited by the first1 the admiration1 which is directed to the distance1 naturally diffuses itself over the distant object4 ,accordingly we find1 that it is not necessary the object should be actually distant from us1 in order to cause our admiration2 but that it is sufficient1 if1 by the natural association of ideas1 it conveys our view to any considerable distance4 ,a great traveller1 though in the same chamber1 will pass for a very extraordinary person2 as a ,greek medal1 even in our cabinet1 is always esteemed a valuable curiosity4 ,here the object1 by a natural transition1 conveys our views to the distance2 and the admiration1 which arises from that distance1 by another natural transition1 returns back to the object4 ,but though every great distance produces an admiration for the distant object1 a distance in time has a more considerable effect than that in space4 ,antient busts and inscriptions are more valued than ,japan tables3 ,and not to mention the ,greeks and ,romans1 it is certain we regard with more veneration the old ,chaldeans and ,egyptians1 than the modern ,chinese and ,persians1 and bestow more fruitless pains to dear up the history and chronology of the former1 than it would cost us to make a voyage1 and be certainly informed of the character1 learning and government of the latter4 ,i shall be obliged to make a digression in order to explain this phnomenon4 ,it is a quality very observable in human nature1 that any opposition1 which does not entirely discourage and intimidate us1 has rather a contrary effect1 and inspires us with a more than ordinary grandeur and magnanimity4 ,in collecting our force to overcome the opposition1 we invigorate the soul1 and give it an elevation with which otherwise it would never have been acquainted4 ,compliance1 by rendering our strength useless1 makes us insensible of it3 but opposition awakens and employs it4 ,this is also true in the universe4 ,opposition not only enlarges the soul2 but the soul1 when full of courage and magnanimity1 in a manner seeks opposition4 ,spumantemque dari pecora inter inertia votis ,optat aprum1 aut fulvum descendere monte leonem4 ,and1 among the tamer beasts1 he longs to be granted1 in answer to his prayers1 a slavering boar1 or to have a tawny lion come down from the mountain4 ,whatever supports and fills the passions is agreeable to us2 as on the contrary1 what weakens and infeebles them is uneasy4 ,as opposition has the first effect1 and facility the second1 no wonder the mind1 in certain dispositions1 desires the former1 and is averse to the latter4 ,these principles have an effect on the imagination as well as on the passions4 ,to be convinced of this we need only consider the influence of heights and depths on that faculty4 ,any great elevation of place communicates a kind of pride or sublimity of imagination1 and gives a fancyed superiority over those that lie below2 and1 vice versa1 a sublime and strong imagination conveys the idea of ascent and elevation4 ,hence it proceeds1 that we associate1 in a manner1 the idea of whatever is good with that of height1 and evil with lowness4 ,heaven is supposed to be above1 and hell below4 ,a noble genius is called an elevate and sublime one4 ,,atque ,,udam ,,spernit ,,humum ,,fugiente ,,penna4 ,spurns the dank soil in winged flight4 ,on the contrary1 a vulgar and trivial conception is stiled indifferently low or mean4 ,prosperity is denominated ascent1 and adversity descent4 ,kings and princes are supposed to be placed at the top of human affairs2 as peasants and day-labourers are said to be in the lowest stations4 ,these methods of thinking1 and of expressing ourselves1 are not of so little consequence as they may appear at first sight4 ,it is evident to common sense1 as well as philosophy1 that there is no natural nor essential difference betwixt high and low1 and that this distinction arises only from the gravitation of matter1 which produces a motion from the one to the other4 ,the very same direction1 which in this part of the globe is called ascent1 is denominated descent in our antipodes2 which can proceed from nothing but the contrary tendency of bodies4 ,now it is certain1 that the tendency of bodies1 continually operating upon our senses1 must produce1 from custom1 a like tendency in the fancy1 and that when we consider any object situated in an ascent1 the idea of its weight gives us a propensity to transport it from the place1 in which it is situated1 to the place immediately below it1 and so on1 until we come to the ground1 which equally stops the body and our imagination4 ,for a like reason we feel a difficulty in mounting1 and pass not without a kind of reluctance from the inferior to that which is situated above it2 as if our ideas acquired a kind of gravity from their objects4 ,as a proof of this1 do we not find1 that the facility1 which is so much studyed in music and poetry1 is called the fail or cadency of the harmony or period2 the idea of facility communicating to us that of descent1 in the same manner as descent produces a facility8 ,since the imagination1 therefore1 in running from low to high1 finds an opposition in its internal qualities and principles1 and since the soul1 when elevated with joy and courage1 in a manner seeks opposition1 and throws itself with alacrity into any scene of thought or action1 where its courage meets with matter to nourish and employ it2 it follows1 that everything1 which invigorates and inlivens the soul1 whether by touching the passions or imagination naturally conveys to the fancy this inclination for ascent1 and determines it to run against the natural stream of its thoughts and conceptions4 ,this aspiring progress of the imagination suits the present disposition of the mind2 and the difficulty1 instead of extinguishing its vigour and alacrity1 has the contrary affect1 of sustaining and encreasing it4 ,virtue1 genius1 power1 and riches are for this reason associated with height and sublimity2 as poverty1 slavery1 and folly are conjoined with descent and lowness4 ,were the case the same with us as ,milton represents it to be with the angels1 to whom descent is adverse1 and who cannot sink without labour and compulsion1 this order of things would be entirely inverted2 as appears hence1 that the very nature of ascent and descent is derived from the difficulty and propensity1 and consequently every one of their effects proceeds from that origin4 ,all this is easily applied to the present question1 why a considerable distance in time produces a greater veneration for the distant objects than a like removal in space4 ,the imagination moves with more difficulty in passing from one portion of time to another1 than in a transition through the parts of space2 and that because space or extension appears united to our senses1 while time or succession is always broken and divided4 ,this difficulty1 when joined with a small distance1 interrupts and weakens the fancy3 ,but has a contrary effect in a great removal4 ,the mind1 elevated by the vastness of its object1 is still farther elevated by the difficulty of the conception2 and being obliged every moment to renew its efforts in the transition from one part of time to another1 feels a more vigorous and sublime disposition1 than in a transition through the parts of space1 where the ideas flow along with easiness and facility4 ,in this disposition1 the imagination1 passing1 as is usual1 from the consideration of the distance to the view of the distant objects1 gives us a proportionable veneration for it2 and this is the reason why all the relicts of antiquity are so precious in our eyes1 and appear more valuable than what is brought even from the remotest parts of the world4 ,the third phnomenon ,i have remarked will be a full confirmation of this4 ,it is not every removal in time1 which has the effect of producing veneration and esteem4 ,we are not apt to imagine our posterity will excel us1 or equal our ancestors4 ,this phnomenon is the more remarkable1 because any distance in futurity weakens not our ideas so much as an equal removal in the past4 ,though a removal in the past1 when very great1 encreases our passions beyond a like removal in the future1 yet a small removal has a greater influence in diminishing them4 ,in our common way of thinking we are placed in a kind of middle station betwixt the past and future2 and as our imagination finds a kind of difficulty in running along the former1 and a facility in following the course of the latter1 the difficulty conveys the notion of ascent1 and the facility of the contrary4 ,hence we imagine our ancestors to be1 in a manner1 mounted above us1 and our posterity to lie below us4 ,our fancy arrives not at the one without effort1 but easily reaches the other3 ,which effort weakens the conception1 where the distance is small2 but enlarges and elevates the imagination1 when attended with a suitable object4 ,as on the other hand1 the facility assists the fancy in a small removal1 but takes off from its force when it contemplates any considerable distance4 ,it may not be improper1 before we leave this subject of the will1 to resume1 in a few words1 all that has been said concerning it1 in order to set the whole more distinctly before the eyes of the reader4 ,what we commonly understand by passion is a violent and sensible emotion of mind1 when any good or evil is presented1 or any object1 which1 by the original formation of our faculties1 is fitted to excite an appetite4 ,by reason we mean affections of the very same kind with the former2 but such as operate more calmly1 and cause no disorder in the temper3 ,which tranquillity leads us into a mistake concerning them1 and causes us to regard them as conclusions only of our intellectual faculties4 ,both the causes and effects of these violent and calm passions are pretty variable1 and depend1 in a great measure1 on the peculiar temper and disposition of every individual4 ,generally speaking1 the violent passions have a more powerful influence on the will2 though it is often found1 that the calm ones1 when corroborated by reflection1 and seconded by resolution1 are able to controul them in their most furious movements4 ,what makes this whole affair more uncertain1 is1 that a calm passion may easily be changed into a violent one1 either by a change of temper1 or of the circumstances and situation of the object1 as by the borrowing of force from any attendant passion1 by custom1 or by exciting the imagination4 ,upon the whole1 this struggle of passion and of reason1 as it is called1 diversifies human life1 and makes men so different not only from each other1 but also from themselves in different times4 ,philosophy can only account for a few of the greater and more sensible events of this war2 but must leave all the smaller and more delicate revolutions1 as dependent on principles too fine and minute for her comprehension4 ,,sect4 ,,ix ,,of ,,the ,,direct ,,passions ,it is easy to observe1 that the passions1 both direct and indirect1 are founded on pain and pleasure1 and that in order to produce an affection of any kind1 it is only requisite to present some good or evil4 ,upon the removal of pain and pleasure there immediately follows a removal of love and hatred1 pride and humility1 desire and aversion1 and of most of our reflective or secondary impressions4 ,the impressions1 which arise from good and evil most naturally1 and with the least preparation are the direct passions of desire and aversion1 grief and joy1 hope and fear1 along with volition4 ,the mind by an original instinct tends to unite itself with the good1 and to avoid the evil1 though they be conceived merely in idea1 and be considered as to exist in any future period of time4 ,but supposing that there is an immediate impression of pain or pleasure1 and that arising from an object related to ourselves or others1 this does not prevent the propensity or aversion1 with the consequent emotions1 but by concurring with certain dormant principles of the human mind1 excites the new impressions of pride or humility1 love or hatred4 ,that propensity1 which unites us to the object1 or separates us from it1 still continues to operate1 but in conjunction with the indirect passions1 which arise from a double relation of impressions and ideas4 ,these indirect passions1 being always agreeable or uneasy1 give in their turn additional force to the direct passions1 and encrease our desire and aversion to the object4 ,thus a suit of fine cloaths produces pleasure from their beauty2 and this pleasure produces the direct passions1 or the impressions of volition and desire4 ,again1 when these cloaths are considered as belonging to ourself1 the double relation conveys to us the sentiment of pride1 which is an indirect passion2 and the pleasure1 which attends that passion1 returns back to the direct affections1 and gives new force to our desire or volition1 joy or hope4 ,when good is certain or probable1 it produces joy4 ,when evil is in the same situation there arises ,,grief or ,,sorrow4 ,when either good or evil is uncertain1 it gives rise to ,,fear or ,,hope1 according to the degrees of uncertainty on the one side or the other4 ,,desire arises from good considered simply1 and ,,aversion is derived from evil4 ,the ,,will exerts itself1 when either the good or the absence of the evil may be attained by any action of the mind or body4 ,beside good and evil1 or in other words1 pain and pleasure1 the direct passions frequently arise from a natural impulse or instinct1 which is perfectly unaccountable4 ,of this kind is the desire of punishment to our enemies1 and of happiness to our friends2 hunger1 lust1 and a few other bodily appetites4 ,these passions1 properly speaking1 produce good and evil1 and proceed not from them1 like the other affections4 ,none of the direct affections seem to merit our particular attention1 except hope and fear1 which we shall here endeavour to account for4 ,it is evident that the very same event1 which by its certainty would produce grief or joy1 gives always rise to fear or hope1 when only probable and uncertain4 ,in order1 therefore1 to understand the reason why this circumstance makes such a considerable difference1 we must reflect on what ,i have already advanced in the preceding book concerning the nature of probability4 ,probability arises from an opposition of contrary chances or causes1 by which the mind is not allowed to fix on either side1 but is incessantly tost from one to another1 and at one moment is determined to consider an object as existent1 and at another moment as the contrary4 ,the imagination or understanding1 call it which you please1 fluctuates betwixt the opposite views2 and though perhaps it may be oftener turned to the one side than the other1 it is impossible for it1 by reason of the opposition of causes or chances1 to rest on either4 ,the pro and con of the question alternately prevail2 and the mind1 surveying the object in its opposite principles1 finds such a contrariety as utterly destroys all certainty and established opinion4 ,suppose1 then1 that the object1 concerning whose reality we are doubtful1 is an object either of desire or aversion1 it is evident1 that1 according as the mind turns itself either to the one side or the other1 it must feel a momentary impression of joy or sorrow4 ,an object1 whose existence we desire1 gives satisfaction1 when we reflect on those causes1 which produce it2 and for the same reason excites grief or uneasiness from the opposite consideration3 ,so that as the understanding1 in all probable questions1 is divided betwixt the contrary points of view1 the affections must in the same manner be divided betwixt opposite emotions4 ,now if we consider the human mind1 we shall find1 that with regard to the passions1 it is not the nature of a wind-instrument of music1 which in running over all the notes immediately loses the sound after the breath ceases2 but rather resembles a string-instrument1 where after each stroke the vibrations still retain some sound1 which gradually and insensibly decays4 ,the imagination is extreme quick and agile2 but the passions are slow and restive3 ,for which reason1 when any object is presented1 that affords a variety of views to the one1 and emotions to the other2 though the fancy may change its views with great celerity2 each stroke will not produce a clear and distinct note of passion1 but the one passion will always be mixt and confounded with the other4 ,according as the probability inclines to good or evil1 the passion of joy or sorrow predominates in the composition3 ,because the nature of probability is to cast a superior number of views or chances on one side2 or1 which is the same thing1 a superior number of returns of one passion2 or since the dispersed passions are collected into one1 a superior degree of that passion4 ,that is1 in other words1 the grief and joy being intermingled with each other1 by means of the contrary views of the imagination1 produce by their union the passions of hope and fear4 ,upon this head there may be started a very curious question concerning that contrariety of passions1 which is our present subject4 ,it is observable1 that where the objects of contrary passions are presented at once1 beside the encrease of the predominant passion 7which has been already explained1 and commonly arises at their first shock or rencounter7 it sometimes happens1 that both the passions exist successively1 and by short intervals2 sometimes1 that they destroy each other1 and neither of them takes place2 and sometimes that both of them remain united in the mind4 ,it may1 therefore1 be asked1 by what theory we can explain these variations1 and to what general principle we can reduce them4 ,when the contrary passions arise from objects entirely different1 they take place alternately1 the want of relation in the ideas separating the impressions from each other1 and preventing their opposition4 ,thus when a man is afflicted for the loss of a law-suit1 and joyful for the birth of a son1 the mind running from the agreeable to the calamitous object1 with whatever celerity it may perform this motion1 can scarcely temper the one affection with the other1 and remain betwixt them in a state of indifference4 ,it more easily attains that calm situation1 when the same event is of a mixt nature1 and contains something adverse and something prosperous in its different circumstances4 ,for in that case1 both the passions1 mingling with each other by means of the relation1 become mutually destructive1 and leave the mind in perfect tranquility4 ,but suppose1 in the third place1 that the object is not a compound of good or evil1 but is considered as probable or improbable in any degree2 in that case ,i assert1 that the contrary passions will both of them be present at once in the soul1 and instead of destroying and tempering each other1 will subsist together1 and produce a third impression or affection by their union4 ,contrary passions are not capable of destroying each other1 except when their contrary movements exactly rencounter1 and are opposite in their direction1 as well as in the sensation they produce4 ,this exact rencounter depends upon the relations of those ideas1 from which they are derived1 and is more or less perfect1 according to the degrees of the relation4 ,in the case of probability the contrary chances are so far related1 that they determine concerning the existence or non-existence of the same object4 ,but this relation is far from being perfect2 since some of the chances lie on the side of existence1 and others on that of non-existence2 which are objects altogether incompatible4 ,it is impossible by one steady view to survey the opposite chances1 and the events dependent on them2 but it is necessary1 that the imagination should run alternately from the one to the other4 ,each view of the imagination produces its peculiar passion1 which decays away by degrees1 and is followed by a sensible vibration after the stroke4 ,the incompatibility of the views keeps the passions from shocking in a direct line1 if that expression may be allowed2 and yet their relation is sufficient to mingle their fainter emotions4 ,it is after this manner that hope and fear arise from the different mixture of these opposite passions of grief and joy1 and from their imperfect union and conjunction4 ,upon the whole1 contrary passions succeed each other alternately1 when they arise from different objects3 ,they mutually destroy each other1 when they proceed from different parts of the same3 ,and they subsist both of them and mingle together1 when they are derived from the contrary and incompatible chances or possibilities1 on which any one object depends4 ,the influence of the relations of ideas is plainly seen in this whole affair4 ,if the objects of the contrary passions be totally different1 the passions are like two opposite liquors in different bottles1 which have no influence on each other4 ,if the objects be intimately connected1 the passions are like an alcali and an acid1 which1 being mingled1 destroy each other4 ,if the relation be more imperfect1 and consists in the contradictory views of the same object1 the passions are like oil and vinegar1 which1 however mingled1 never perfectly unite and incorporate4 ,as the hypothesis concerning hope and fear carries its own evidence along with it1 we shall be the more concise in our proofs4 ,a few strong arguments are better than many weak ones4 ,the passions of fear and hope may arise when the chances are equal on both sides1 and no superiority can be discovered in the one above the other4 ,nay1 in this situation the passions are rather the strongest1 as the mind has then the least foundation to rest upon1 and is tossed with the greatest uncertainty4 ,throw in a superior degree of probability to the side of grief1 you immediately see that passion diffuse itself over the composition1 and tincture it into fear4 ,encrease the probability1 and by that means the grief1 the fear prevails still more and more1 till at last it runs insensibly1 as the joy continually diminishes1 into pure grief4 ,after you have brought it to this situation1 diminish the grief1 after the same manner that you encreased it2 by diminishing the probability on that side1 and you'll see the passion clear every moment1 until it changes insensibly into hope2 which again runs1 after the same manner1 by slow degrees1 into joy1 as you encrease that part of the composition by the encrease of the probability4 ,are not these as plain proofs1 that the passions of fear and hope are mixtures of grief and joy1 as in optics it is a proof1 that a coloured ray of the sun passing through a prism1 is a composition of two others1 when1 as you diminish or encrease the quantity of either1 you find it prevail proportionably more or less in the composition8 ,i am sure neither natural nor moral philosophy admits of stronger proofs4 ,probability is of two kinds1 either when the object is really in itself uncertain1 and to be determined by chance2 or when1 though the object be already certain1 yet it is uncertain to our judgment1 which finds a number of proofs on each side of the question4 ,both these kinds of probabilities cause fear and hope2 which can only proceed from that property1 in which they agree1 viz1 the uncertainty and fluctuation they bestow on the imagination by that contrariety of views1 which is common to both4 ,it is a probable good or evil1 that commonly produces hope or fear2 because probability1 being a wavering and unconstant method of surveying an object1 causes naturally a like mixture and uncertainty of passion4 ,but we may observe1 that wherever from other causes this mixture can be produced1 the passions of fear and hope will arise1 even though there be no probability2 which must be allowed to be a convincing proof of the present hypothesis4 ,we find that an evil1 barely conceived as possible1 does sometimes produce fear2 especially if the evil be very great4 ,a man cannot think of excessive pains and tortures without trembling1 if he be in the least danger of suffering them4 ,the smallness of the probability is compensated by the greatness of the evil2 and the sensation is equally lively1 as if the evil were more probable4 ,one view or glimpse of the former1 has the same effect as several of the latter4 ,but they are not only possible evils1 that cause fear1 but even some allowed to be impossible2 as when we tremble on the brink of a precipice1 though we know ourselves to be in perfect security1 and have it in our choice whether we will advance a step farther4 ,this proceeds from the immediate presence of the evil1 which influences the imagination in the same manner as the certainty of it would do2 but being encountered by the reflection on our security1 is immediately retracted1 and causes the same kind of passion1 as when from a contrariety of chances contrary passions are produced4 ,evils1 that are certain1 have sometimes the same effect in producing fear1 as the possible or impossible4 ,thus a man in a strong prison well-guarded1 without the least means of escape1 trembles at the thought of the rack1 to which he is sentenced4 ,this happens only when the certain evil is terrible and confounding2 in which case the mind continually rejects it with horror1 while it continually presses in upon the thought4 ,the evil is there fixed and established1 but the mind cannot endure to fix upon it2 from which fluctuation and uncertainty there arises a passion of much the same appearance with fear4 ,but it is not only where good or evil is uncertain1 as to its existence1 but also as to its kind1 that fear or hope arises4 ,let one be told by a person1 whose veracity he cannot doubt of1 that one of his sons is suddenly killed1 it is evident the passion this event would occasion1 would not settle into pure grief1 till he got certain information1 which of his sons he had lost4 ,here there is an evil certain1 but the kind of it uncertain4 ,consequently the fear we feel on this occasion is without the least mixture of joy1 and arises merely from the fluctuation of the fancy betwixt its objects4 ,and though each side of the question produces here the same passion1 yet that passion cannot settle1 but receives from the imagination a tremulous and unsteady motion1 resembling in its cause1 as well as in its sensation1 the mixture and contention of grief and joy4 ,from these principles we may account for a phnomenon in the passions1 which at first sight seems very extraordinary1 viz1 that surprize is apt to change into fear1 and every thing that is unexpected affrights us4 ,the most obvious conclusion from this is1 that human nature is in general pusillanimous2 since upon the sudden appearance of any object4 we immediately conclude it to be an evil1 and without waiting till we can examine its nature1 whether it be good or bad1 are at first affected with fear4 ,this ,i say is the most obvious conclusion2 but upon farther examination we shall find that the phnomenon is otherwise to be accounted for4 ,the suddenness and strangeness of an appearance naturally excite a commotion in the mind1 like every thing for which we are not prepared1 and to which we are not accustomed4 ,this commotion1 again1 naturally produces a curiosity or inquisitiveness1 which being very violent1 from the strong and sudden impulse of the object1 becomes uneasy1 and resembles in its fluctuation and uncertainty1 the sensation of fear or the mixed passions of grief and joy4 ,this image of fear naturally converts into the thing itself1 and gives us a real apprehension of evil1 as the mind always forms its judgments more from its present disposition than from the nature of its objects4 ,thus all kinds of uncertainty have a strong connexion with fear1 even though they do not cause any opposition of passions by the opposite views and considerations they present to us4 ,a person1 who has left his friend in any malady1 will feel more anxiety upon his account1 than if he were present1 though perhaps he is not only incapable of giving him assistance1 but likewise of judging of the event of his sickness4 ,in this case1 though the principal object of the passion1 viz1 the life or death of his friend1 be to him equally uncertain when present as when absent2 yet there are a thousand little circumstances of his friend's situation and condition1 the knowledge of which fixes the idea1 and prevents that fluctuation and uncertainty so near allyed to fear4 ,uncertainty is1 indeed1 in one respect as near allyed to hope as to fear1 since it makes an essential part in the composition of the former passion2 but the reason1 why it inclines not to that side1 is1 that uncertainty alone is uneasy1 and has a relation of impressions to the uneasy passions4 ,it is thus our uncertainty concerning any minute circumstance relating to a person encreases our apprehensions of his death or misfortune4 ,horace has remarked this phnomenon4 ,ut assidens implumibus pullis avis ,serpentium allapsus timet1 ,magis relictis2 non1 ut adsit1 auxil ,latura plus prsentibus4 ,as a bird1 watching over her fledgelings1 is more afraid of their being attacked by snakes if she were to leave them even though1 were she to stay1 she would not be any more capable of helping them1 when they were with her4 ,but this principle of the connexion of fear with uncertainty ,i carry farther1 and observe that any doubt produces that passion1 even though it presents nothing to us on any side but what is good and desireable4 ,a virgin1 on her bridalnight goes to bed full of fears and apprehensions1 though she expects nothing but pleasure of the highest kind1 and what she has long wished for4 ,the newness and greatness of the event1 the confusion of wishes and joys so embarrass the mind1 that it knows not on what passion to fix itself2 from whence arises a fluttering or unsettledness of the spirits which being1 in some degree1 uneasy1 very naturally degenerates into fear4 ,thus we still find1 that whatever causes any fluctuation or mixture of passions1 with any degree of uneasiness1 always produces fear1 or at least a passion so like it1 that they are scarcely to be distinguished4 ,i have here confined myself to the examination of hope and fear in their most simple and natural situation1 without considering all the variations they may receive from the mixture of different views and reflections4 ,terror1 consternation1 astonishment1 anxiety1 and other passions of that kind1 are nothing but different species and degrees of fear4 ,it is easy to imagine how a different situation of the object1 or a different turn of thought1 may change even the sensation of a passion2 and this may in general account for all the particular sub-divisions of the other affections1 as well as of fear4 ,love may shew itself in the shape of tenderness1 friendship1 intimacy1 esteem1 good-will1 and in many other appearances2 which at the bottom are the same affections2 and arise from the same causes1 though with a small variation1 which it is not necessary to give any particular account of4 ,it is for this reason ,i have all along confined myself to the principal passion4 ,the same care of avoiding prolixity is the reason why ,i wave the examination of the will and direct passions1 as they appear in animals2 since nothing is more evident1 than that they are of the same nature1 and excited by the same causes as in human creatures4 ,i leave this to the reader's own observation2 desiring him at the same time to consider the additional force this bestows on the present system4 ,,sect4 ,x ,,of ,,curiosity1 ,,or ,,the ,,love ,,of ,,truth ,but methinks we have been not a little inattentive to run over so many different parts of the human mind1 and examine so many passions1 without taking once into the consideration that love of truth1 which was the first source of all our enquiries4 ,twill therefore be proper1 before we leave this subject1 to bestow a few reflections on that passion1 and shew its origin in human nature4 ,it is an affection of so peculiar a kind1 that it would have been impossible to have treated of it under any of those heads1 which we have examined1 without danger of obscurity and confusion4 ,truth is of two kinds1 consisting either in the discovery of the proportions of ideas1 considered as such1 or in the conformity of our ideas of objects to their real existence4 ,it is certain1 that the former species of truth1 is not desired merely as truth1 and that it is not the justness of our conclusions1 which alone gives the pleasure4 ,for these conclusions are equally just1 when we discover the equality of two bodies by a pair of compasses1 as when we learn it by a mathematical demonstration2 and though in the one case the proofs be demonstrative1 and in the other only sensible1 yet generally speaking1 the mind acquiesces with equal assurance in the one as in the other4 ,and in an arithmetical operation1 where both the truth and the assurance are of the same nature1 as in the most profound algebraical problem1 the pleasure is very inconsiderable1 if rather it does not degenerate into pain3 ,which is an evident proof1 that the satisfaction1 which we sometimes receive from the discovery of truth1 proceeds not from it1 merely as such1 but only as endowed with certain qualities4 ,the first and most considerable circumstance requisite to render truth agreeable1 is the genius and capacity1 which is employed in its invention and discovery4 ,what is easy and obvious is never valued2 and even what is in itself difficult1 if we come to the knowledge of it without difficulty1 and without any stretch of thought or judgment1 is but little regarded4 ,we love to trace the demonstrations of mathematicians2 but should receive small entertainment from a person1 who should barely inform us of the proportions of lines and angles1 though we reposed the utmost confidence both in his judgment and veracity4 ,in this case it is sufficient to have ears to learn the truth4 ,we never are obliged to fix our attention or exert our genius2 which of all other exercises of the mind is the most pleasant and agreeable4 ,but though the exercise of genius be the principal source of that satisfaction we receive from the sciences1 yet ,i doubt1 if it be alone sufficient to give us any considerable enjoyment4 ,the truth we discover must also be of some importance4 ,it is easy to multiply algebraical problems to infinity1 nor is there any end in the discovery of the proportions of conic sections2 though few mathematicians take any pleasure in these researches1 but turn their thoughts to what is more useful and important4 ,now the question is1 after what manner this utility and importance operate upon us8 ,the difficulty on this head arises from hence1 that many philosophers have consumed their time1 have destroyed their health1 and neglected their fortune1 in the search of such truths1 as they esteemed important and useful to the world1 though it appeared from their whole conduct and behaviour1 that they were not endowed with any share of public spirit1 nor had any concern for the interests of mankind4 ,were they convinced1 that their discoveries were of no consequence1 they would entirely lose all relish for their studies1 and that though the consequences be entirely indifferent to them2 which seems to be a contradiction4 ,to remove this contradiction1 we must consider1 that there are certain desires and inclinations1 which go no farther than the imagination1 and are rather the faint shadows and images of passions1 than any real affections4 ,thus1 suppose a man1 who takes a survey of the fortifications of any city2 considers their strength and advantages1 natural or acquired2 observes the disposition and contrivance of the bastions1 ramparts1 mines1 and other military works2 it is plain1 that in proportion as all these are fitted to attain their ends he will receive a suitable pleasure and satisfaction4 ,this pleasure1 as it arises from the utility1 not the form of the objects1 can be no other than a sympathy with the inhabitants1 for whose security all this art is employed2 though it is possible1 that this person1 as a stranger or an enemy1 may in his heart have no kindness for them1 or may even entertain a hatred against them4 ,it may indeed be objected1 that such a remote sympathy is a very slight foundation for a passion1 and that so much industry and application1 as we frequently observe in philosophers1 can never be derived from so inconsiderable an original4 ,but here ,i return to what ,i have already remarked1 that the pleasure of study conflicts chiefly in the action of the mind1 and the exercise of the genius and understanding in the discovery or comprehension of any truth4 ,if the importance of the truth be requisite to compleat the pleasure1 it is not on account of any considerable addition1 which of itself it brings to our enjoyment1 but only because it is1 in some measure1 requisite to fix our attention4 ,when we are careless and inattentive1 the same action of the understanding has no effect upon us1 nor is able to convey any of that satisfaction1 which arises from it1 when we are in another disposition4 ,but beside the action of the mind1 which is the principal foundation of the pleasure1 there is likewise required a degree of success in the attainment of the end1 or the discovery of that truth we examine4 ,upon this head ,i shall make a general remark1 which may be useful on many occasions1 viz1 that where the mind pursues any end with passion2 though that passion be not derived originally from the end1 but merely from the action and pursuit2 yet by the natural course of the affections1 we acquire a concern for the end itself1 and are uneasy under any disappointment we meet with in the pursuit of it4 ,this proceeds from the relation and parallel direction of the passions above-mentioned4 ,to illustrate all this by a similar instance1 ,i shall observe1 that there cannot be two passions more nearly resembling each other1 than those of hunting and philosophy1 whatever disproportion may at first sight appear betwixt them4 ,it is evident1 that the pleasure of hunting conflicts in the action of the mind and body2 the motion1 the attention1 the difficulty1 and the uncertainty4 ,it is evident likewise1 that these actions must be attended with an idea of utility1 in order to their having any effect upon us4 ,a man of the greatest fortune1 and the farthest removed from avarice1 though he takes a pleasure in hunting after patridges and pheasants1 feels no satisfaction in shooting crows and magpies2 and that because he considers the first as fit for the table1 and the other as entirely useless4 ,here it is certain1 that the utility or importance of itself causes no real passion1 but is only requisite to support the imagination2 and the same person1 who over-looks a ten times greater profit in any other subject1 is pleased to bring home half a dozen woodcocks or plovers1 after having employed several hours in hunting after them4 ,to make the parallel betwixt hunting and philosophy more compleat1 we may observe1 that though in both cases the end of our action may in itself be despised1 yet in the heat of the action we acquire such an attention to this end1 that we are very uneasy under any disappointments1 and are sorry when we either miss our game1 or fall into any error in our reasoning4 ,if we want another parallel to these affections1 we may consider the passion of gaming1 which affords a pleasure from the same principles as hunting and philosophy4 ,it has been remarked1 that the pleasure of gaming arises not from interest alone2 since many leave a sure gain for this entertainment3 ,neither is it derived from the game alone2 since the same persons have no satisfaction1 when they play for nothing3 ,but proceeds from both these causes united1 though separately they have no effect4 ,it is here1 as in certain chymical preparations1 where the mixture of two clear and transparent liquids produces a third1 which is opaque and coloured44 ,the interest1 which we have in any game1 engages our attention1 without which we can have no enjoyment1 either in that or in any other action4 ,our attention being once engaged1 the difficulty1 variety1 and sudden reverses of fortune1 still farther interest us2 and it is from that concern our satisfaction arises4 ,human life is so tiresome a scene1 and men generally are of such indolent dispositions1 that whatever amuses them1 though by a passion mixt with pain1 does in the main give them a sensible pleasure4 ,and this pleasure is here encreased by the nature of the objects1 which being sensible1 and of a narrow compass1 are entered into with facility1 and are agreeable to the imagination4 ,the same theory1 that accounts for the love of truth in mathematics and algebra may be extended to morals1 politics1 natural philosophy1 and other studies1 where we consider not the other abstract relations of ideas1 but their real connexions and existence4 ,but beside the love of knowledge1 which displays itself in the sciences1 there is a certain curiosity implanted in human nature1 which is a passion derived from a quite different principle4 ,some people have an insatiable desire of knowing the actions and circumstances of their neighbours1 though their interest be no way concerned in them1 and they must entirely depend on others for their information2 in which case there is no room for study or application4 ,let us search for the reason of this phnomenon4 ,it has been proved at large1 that the influence of belief is at once to inliven and infix any idea in the imagination1 and prevent all kind of hesitation and uncertainty about it4 ,both these circumstances are advantageous4 ,by the vivacity of the idea we interest the fancy1 and produce1 though in a lesser degree1 the same pleasure1 which arises from a moderate passion4 ,as the vivacity of the idea gives pleasure1 so its certainty prevents uneasiness1 by fixing one particular idea in the mind1 and keeping it from wavering in the choice of its objects4 ,it is a quality of human nature1 which is conspicuous on many occasions1 and is common both to the mind and body1 that too sudden and violent a change is unpleasant to us1 and that however any objects may in themselves be indifferent1 yet their alteration gives uneasiness4 ,as it is the nature of doubt to cause a variation in the thought1 and transport us suddenly from one idea to another1 it must of consequence be the occasion of pain4 ,this pain chiefly takes place1 where interest1 relation1 or the greatness and novelty of any event interests us in it4 ,it is not every matter of fact1 of which we have a curiosity to be informed2 neither are they such only as we have an interest to know4 ,it is sufficient if the idea strikes on us with such force1 and concerns us so nearly1 as to give us an uneasiness in its instability and inconstancy4 ,a stranger1 when he arrives first at any town1 may be entirely indifferent about knowing the history and adventures of the inhabitants2 but as he becomes farther acquainted with them1 and has lived any considerable time among them1 he acquires the same curiosity as the natives4 ,when we are reading the history of a nation1 we may have an ardent desire of clearing up any doubt or difficulty1 that occurs in it2 but become careless in such researches1 when the ideas of these events are1 in a great measure1 obliterated4 ,,book ,,iii ,,of ,,morals ,,part ,i ,,of ,,virtue ,,and ,,vice ,,in ,,general ,,sect4 ,i ,,moral ,,distinctions ,,not ,,derived ,,from ,,reason ,there is an inconvenience which attends all abstruse reasoning that it may silence1 without convincing an antagonist1 and requires the same intense study to make us sensible of its force1 that was at first requisite for its invention4 ,when we leave our closet1 and engage in the common affairs of life1 its conclusions seem to vanish1 like the phantoms of the night on the appearance of the morning2 and it is difficult for us to retain even that conviction1 which we had attained with difficulty4 ,this is still more conspicuous in a long chain of reasoning1 where we must preserve to the end the evidence of the first propositions1 and where we often lose sight of all the most received maxims1 either of philosophy or common life4 ,i am not1 however1 without hopes1 that the present system of philosophy will acquire new force as it advances2 and that our reasonings concerning morals will corroborate whatever has been said concerning the ,,understanding and the ,,passions4 ,morality is a subject that interests us above all others3 ,we fancy the peace of society to be at stake in every decision concerning it2 and it is evident1 that this concern must make our speculations appear more real and solid1 than where the subject is1 in a great measure1 indifferent to us4 ,what affects us1 we conclude can never be a chimera2 and as our passion is engaged on the one side or the other1 we naturally think that the question lies within human comprehension2 which1 in other cases of this nature1 we are apt to entertain some doubt of4 ,without this advantage ,i never should have ventured upon a third volume of such abstruse philosophy1 in an age1 wherein the greatest part of men seem agreed to convert reading into an amusement1 and to reject every thing that requires any considerable degree of attention to be comprehended4 ,it has been observed1 that nothing is ever present to the mind but its perceptions2 and that all the actions of seeing1 hearing1 judging1 loving1 hating1 and thinking1 fall under this denomination4 ,the mind can never exert itself in any action1 which we may not comprehend under the term of perception2 and consequently that term is no less applicable to those judgments1 by which we distinguish moral good and evil1 than to every other operation of the mind4 ,to approve of one character1 to condemn another1 are only so many different perceptions4 ,now as perceptions resolve themselves into two kinds1 viz4 impressions and ideas1 this distinction gives rise to a question1 with which we shall open up our present enquiry concerning morals4 ,,whether ,,it ,,is ,,by ,,means ,,of ,,our ,,ideas ,,or ,,impressions ,,we ,,distinguish ,,betwixt ,,vice ,,and ,,virtue1 ,,and ,,pronounce ,,an ,,action ,,blameable ,,or ,,praiseworthy8 ,this will immediately cut off all loose discourses and declamations1 and reduce us to something precise and exact on the present subject4 ,those who affirm that virtue is nothing but a conformity to reason2 that there are eternal fitnesses and unfitnesses of things1 which are the same to every rational being that considers them2 that the immutable measures of right and wrong impose an obligation1 not only on human creatures1 but also on the ,deity himself3 ,all these systems concur in the opinion1 that morality1 like truth1 is discerned merely by ideas1 and by their juxta-position and comparison4 ,in order1 therefore1 to judge of these systems1 we need only consider1 whether it be possible1 from reason alone1 to distinguish betwixt moral good and evil1 or whether there must concur some other principles to enable us to make that distinction4 ,if morality had naturally no influence on human passions and actions1 it were in vain to take such pains to inculcate it2 and nothing would be more fruitless than that multitude of rules and precepts1 with which all moralists abound4 ,philosophy is commonly divided into speculative and practical2 and as morality is always comprehended under the latter division1 it is supposed to influence our passions and actions1 and to go beyond the calm and indolent judgments of the understanding4 ,and this is confirmed by common experience1 which informs us1 that men are often governed by their duties1 and are detered from some actions by the opinion of injustice1 and impelled to others by that of obligation4 ,since morals1 therefore1 have an influence on the actions and affections1 it follows1 that they cannot be derived from reason2 and that because reason alone1 as we have already proved1 can never have any such influence4 ,morals excite passions1 and produce or prevent actions4 ,reason of itself is utterly impotent in this particular4 ,the rules of morality therefore1 are not conclusions of our reason4 ,no one1 ,i believe1 will deny the justness of this inference2 nor is there any other means of evading it1 than by denying that principle1 on which it is founded4 ,as long as it is allowed1 that reason has no influence on our passions and action1 it is in vain to pretend1 that morality is discovered only by a deduction of reason4 ,an active principle can never be founded on an inactive2 and if reason be inactive in itself1 it must remain so in all its shapes and appearances1 whether it exerts itself in natural or moral subjects1 whether it considers the powers of external bodies1 or the actions of rational beings4 ,it would be tedious to repeat all the arguments1 by which ,i have proved1#a that reason is perfectly inert1 and can never either prevent or produce any action or affection1 it will be easy to recollect what has been said upon that subject4 ,i shall only recall on this occasion one of these arguments1 which ,i shall endeavour to render still more conclusive1 and more applicable to the present subject4 #a ,book ,,ii4 ,part ,,iii4 ,sect #c4 ,reason is the discovery of truth or falshood4 ,truth or falshood consists in an agreement or disagreement either to the real relations of ideas1 or to real existence and matter of fact4 ,whatever1 therefore1 is not susceptible of this agreement or disagreement1 is incapable of being true or false1 and can never be an object of our reason4 ,now it is evident our passions1 volitions1 and actions1 are not susceptible of any such agreement or disagreement2 being original facts and realities1 compleat in themselves1 and implying no reference to other passions1 volitions1 and actions4 ,it is impossible1 therefore1 they can be pronounced either true or false1 and be either contrary or conformable to reason4 ,this argument is of double advantage to our present purpose4 ,for it proves ,,directly1 that actions do not derive their merit from a conformity to reason1 nor their blame from a contrariety to it2 and it proves the same truth more ,,indirectly1 by shewing us1 that as reason can never immediately prevent or produce any action by contradicting or approving of it1 it cannot be the source of moral good and evil1 which are found to have that influence4 ,actions may be laudable or blameable2 but they cannot be reasonable3 ,laudable or blameable1 therefore1 are not the same with reasonable or unreasonable4 ,the merit and demerit of actions frequently contradict1 and sometimes controul our natural propensities4 ,but reason has no such influence4 ,moral distinctions1 therefore1 are not the offspring of reason4 ,reason is wholly inactive1 and can never be the source of so active a principle as conscience1 or a sense of morals4 ,but perhaps it may be said1 that though no will or action can be immediately contradictory to reason1 yet we may find such a contradiction in some of the attendants of the action1 that is1 in its causes or effects4 ,the action may cause a judgment1 or may be obliquely caused by one1 when the judgment concurs with a passion2 and by an abusive way of speaking1 which philosophy will scarce allow of1 the same contrariety may1 upon that account1 be ascribed to the action4 ,how far this truth or falsehood may be the source of morals1 it will now be proper to consider4 ,it has been observed1 that reason1 in a strict and philosophical sense1 can have influence on our conduct only after two ways3 ,either when it excites a passion by informing us of the existence of something which is a proper object of it2 or when it discovers the connexion of causes and effects1 so as to afford us means of exerting any passion4 ,these are the only kinds of judgment1 which can accompany our actions1 or can be said to produce them in any manner2 and it must be allowed1 that these judgments may often be false and erroneous4 ,a person may be affected with passion1 by supposing a pain or pleasure to lie in an object1 which has no tendency to produce either of these sensations1 or which produces the contrary to what is imagined4 ,a person may also take false measures for the attaining his end1 and may retard1 by his foolish conduct1 instead of forwarding the execution of any project4 ,these false judgments may be thought to affect the passions and actions1 which are connected with them1 and may be said to render them unreasonable1 in a figurative and improper way of speaking4 ,but though this be acknowledged1 it is easy to observe1 that these errors are so far from being the source of all immorality1 that they are commonly very innocent1 and draw no manner of guilt upon the person who is so unfortunate as to fail into them4 ,they extend not beyond a mistake of fact1 which moralists have not generally supposed criminal1 as being perfectly involuntary4 ,i am more to be lamented than blamed1 if ,i am mistaken with regard to the influence of objects in producing pain or pleasure1 or if ,i know not the proper means of satisfying my desires4 ,no one can ever regard such errors as a defect in my moral character4 ,a fruit1 for instance1 that is really disagreeable1 appears to me at a distance1 and through mistake ,i fancy it to be pleasant and delicious4 ,here is one error4 ,i choose certain means of reaching this fruit1 which are not proper for my end4 ,here is a second error2 nor is there any third one1 which can ever possibly enter into our reasonings concerning actions4 ,i ask1 therefore1 if a man1 in this situation1 and guilty of these two errors1 is to be regarded as vicious and criminal1 however unavoidable they might have been8 ,or if it be possible to imagine1 that such errors are the sources of all immorality8 ,and here it may be proper to observe1 that if moral distinctions be derived from the truth or falshood of those judgments1 they must take place wherever we form the judgments2 nor will there be any difference1 whether the question be concerning an apple or a kingdom1 or whether the error be avoidable or unavoidable4 ,for as the very essence of morality is supposed to consist in an agreement or disagreement to reason1 the other circumstances are entirely arbitrary1 and can never either bestow on any action the character of virtuous or vicious1 or deprive it of that character4 ,to which we may add1 that this agreement or disagreement1 not admitting of degrees1 all virtues and vices would of course be equal4 ,should it be pretended1 that though a mistake of fact be not criminal1 yet a mistake of right often is2 and that this may be the source of immorality3 ,i would answer1 that it is impossible such a mistake can ever be the original source of immorality1 since it supposes a real right and wrong2 that is1 a real distinction in morals1 independent of these judgments4 ,a mistake1 therefore1 of right may become a species of immorality2 but it is only a secondary one1 and is founded on some other1 antecedent to it4 ,as to those judgments which are the effects of our actions1 and which1 when false1 give occasion to pronounce the actions contrary to truth and reason2 we may observe1 that our actions never cause any judgment1 either true or false1 in ourselves1 and that it is only on others they have such an influence4 ,it is certain1 that an action1 on many occasions1 may give rise to false conclusions in others2 and that a person1 who through a window sees any lewd behaviour of mine with my neighbour's wife1 may be so simple as to imagine she is certainly my own4 ,in this respect my action resembles somewhat a lye or falshood2 only with this difference1 which is material1 that ,i perform not the action with any intention of giving rise to a false judgment in another1 but merely to satisfy my lust and passion4 ,it causes1 however1 a mistake and false judgment by accident2 and the falshood of its effects may be ascribed1 by some odd figurative way of speaking1 to the action itself4 ,but still ,i can see no pretext of reason for asserting1 that the tendency to cause such an error is the first spring or original source of all immorality4 #b ,one might think it were entirely superfluous to prove this1 if a late author ,william ,wollaston1 ,,the ,,religion ,,of ,,nature ,,delineated 7,london #agbb71 who has had the good fortune to obtain some reputation1 had not seriously affirmed1 that such a falshood is the foundation of all guilt and moral deformity4 ,that we may discover the fallacy of his hypothesis1 we need only consider1 that a false conclusion is drawn from an action1 only by means of an obscurity of natural principles1 which makes a cause be secretly interrupted in its operation1 by contrary causes1 and renders the connexion betwixt two objects uncertain and variable4 ,now1 as a like uncertainty and variety of causes take place1 even in natural objects1 and produce a like error in our judgment1 if that tendency to produce error were the very essence of vice and immorality1 it should follow1 that even inanimate objects might be vicious and immoral4 ,one might think it were entirely superfluous to prove this1 if a late author ,william ,wollaston1 ,,the ,,religion ,,of ,,nature ,,delineated 7,london #agbb71 who has had the good fortune to obtain some reputation1 had not seriously affirmed1 that such a falshood is the foundation of all guilt and moral deformity4 ,that we may discover the fallacy of his hypothesis1 we need only consider1 that a false conclusion is drawn from an action1 only by means of an obscurity of natural principles1 which makes a cause be secretly interrupted ,in its operation1 by contrary causes1 and renders the connexion betwixt two objects uncertain and variable4 ,now1 as a like uncertainty and variety of causes take place1 even in natural objects1 and produce a like error in our judgment1 if that tendency to produce error were the very essence of vice and immorality1 it should follow1 that even inanimate objects might be vicious and immoral4 ,it is in vain to urge1 that inanimate objects act without liberty and choice4 ,for as liberty and choice are not necessary to make an action produce in us an erroneous conclusion1 they can be1 in no respect1 essential to morality2 and ,i do not readily perceive1 upon this system1 how they can ever come to be regarded by it4 ,if the tendency to cause error be the origin of immorality1 that tendency and immorality would in every case be inseparable4 ,add to this1 that if ,i had used the precaution of shutting the windows1 while ,i indulged myself in those liberties with my neighbour's wife1 ,i should have been guilty of no immorality2 and that because my action1 being perfectly concealed1 would have had no tendency to produce any false conclusion4 ,for the same reason1 a thief1 who steals in by a ladder at a window1 and takes all imaginable care to cause no disturbance1 is in no respect criminal4 ,for either he will not be perceived1 or if he be1 it is impossible he can produce any error1 nor will any one1 from these circumstances1 take him to be other than what he really is4 ,it is well known1 that those who are squint-sighted1 do very readily cause mistakes in others1 and that we imagine they salute or are talking to one person1 while they address themselves to another4 ,are they therefore1 upon that account1 immoral8 ,besides1 we may easily observe1 that in all those arguments there is an evident reasoning in a circle4 ,a person who takes possession of another's goods1 and uses them as his own1 in a manner declares them to be his own2 and this falshood is the source of the immorality of injustice4 ,but is property1 or right1 or obligation1 intelligible1 without an antecedent morality8 ,a man that is ungrateful to his benefactor1 in a manner affirms1 that he never received any favours from him4 ,but in what manner8 ,is it because it is his duty to be grateful8 ,but this supposes1 that there is some antecedent rule of duty and morals4 ,is it because human nature is generally grateful1 and makes us conclude1 that a man who does any harm never received any favour from the person he harmed8 ,but human nature is not so generally grateful1 as to justify such a conclusion4 ,or if it were1 is an exception to a general rule in every case criminal1 for no other reason than because it is an exception8 ,but what may suffice entirely to destroy this whimsical system is1 that it leaves us under the same difficulty to give a reason why truth is virtuous and falshood vicious1 as to account for the merit or turpitude of any other action4 ,i shall allow1 if you please1 that all immorality is derived from this supposed falshood in action1 provided you can give me any plausible reason1 why such a falshood is immoral4 ,if you consider rightly of the matter1 you will find yourself in the same difficulty as at the beginning4 ,this last argument is very conclusive2 because1 if there be not an evident merit or turpitude annexed to this species of truth or falahood1 ,it can never have any influence upon our actions4 ,for1 who ever thought of forbearing any action1 because others might possibly draw false conclusions from it8 ,or1 who ever performed any1 that he might give rise to true conclusions8 ,thus upon the whole1 it is impossible1 that the distinction betwixt moral good and evil1 can be made to reason2 since that distinction has an influence upon our actions1 of which reason alone is incapable4 ,reason and judgment may1 indeed1 be the mediate cause of an action1 by prompting1 or by directing a passion3 ,but it is not pretended1 that a judgment of this kind1 either in its truth or falshood1 is attended with virtue or vice4 ,and as to the judgments1 which are caused by our judgments1 they can still less bestow those moral qualities on the actions1 which are their causes4 ,but to be more particular1 and to shew1 that those eternal immutable fitnesses and unfitnesses of things cannot be defended by sound philosophy1 we may weigh the following considerations4 ,if the thought and understanding were alone capable of fixing the boundaries of right and wrong1 the character of virtuous and vicious either must lie in some relations of objects1 or must be a matter of fact1 which is discovered by our reasoning4 ,this consequence is evident4 ,as the operations of human understanding divide themselves into two kinds1 the comparing of ideas1 and the inferring of matter of fact2 were virtue discovered by the understanding2 it must be an object of one of these operations1 nor is there any third operation of the understanding4 which can discover it4 ,there has been an opinion very industriously propagated by certain philosophers1 that morality is susceptible of demonstration2 and though no one has ever been able to advance a single step in those demonstrations2 yet it is taken for granted1 that this science may be brought to an equal certainty with geometry or algebra4 ,upon this supposition vice and virtue must consist in some relations2 since it is allowed on all hands1 that no matter of fact is capable of being demonstrated4 ,let us1 therefore1 begin with examining this hypothesis1 and endeavour1 if possible1 to fix those moral qualities1 which have been so long the objects of our fruitless researches4 ,point out distinctly the relations1 which constitute morality or obligation1 that we may know wherein they consist1 and after what manner we must judge of them4 ,if you assert1 that vice and virtue consist in relations susceptible of certainty and demonstration1 you must confine yourself to those four relations1 which alone admit of that degree of evidence2 and in that case you run into absurdities1 from which you will never be able to extricate yourself4 ,for as you make the very essence of morality to lie in the relations1 and as there is no one of these relations but what is applicable1 not only to an irrational1 but also to an inanimate object2 it follows1 that even such objects must be susceptible of merit or demerit4 ,,resemblance1 ,,contrariety1 ,,degrees ,,in ,,quality1 and ,,proportions ,,in ,,quantity ,,and ,,number2 all these relations belong as properly to matter1 as to our actions1 passions1 and volitions4 ,it is unquestionable1 therefore1 that morality lies not in any of these relations1 nor the sense of it in their discovery4#c #c ,as a proof1 how confused our way of thinking on this subject commonly is1 we may observe1 that those who assert1 that morality is demonstrable1 do not say1 that morality lies in the relations1 and that the relations are distinguishable by reason4 ,they only say1 that reason can discover such an action1 in such relations1 to be virtuous1 and such another vicious4 ,it seems they thought it sufficient1 if they could bring the word1 ,relation1 into the proposition1 without troubling themselves whether it was to the purpose or not4 ,but here1 ,i think1 is plain argument4 ,demonstrative reason discovers only relations4 ,but that reason1 according to this hypothesis1 discovers also vice and virtue4 ,these moral qualities1 therefore1 must be relations4 ,when we blame any action1 in any situation1 the whole complicated object1 of action and situation1 must form certain relations1 wherein the essence of vice consists4 ,this hypothesis is not otherwise intelligible4 ,for what does reason discover1 when it pronounces any action vicious8 ,does it discover a relation or a matter of fact8 ,these questions are decisive1 and must not be eluded4 ,should it be asserted1 that the sense of morality consists in the discovery of some relation1 distinct from these1 and that our enumeration was not compleat1 when we comprehended all demonstrable relations under four general heads3 ,to this ,i know not what to reply1 till some one be so good as to point out to me this new relation4 ,it is impossible to refute a system1 which has never yet been explained4 ,in such a manner of fighting in the dark1 a man loses his blows in the air1 and often places them where the enemy is not present4 ,i must1 therefore1 on this occasion1 rest contented with requiring the two following conditions of any one that would undertake to clear up this system4 ,first1 ,as moral good and evil belong only to the actions of the mind1 and are derived from our situation with regard to external objects1 the relations1 from which these moral distinctions arise1 must lie only betwixt internal actions1 and external objects1 and must not be applicable either to internal actions1 compared among themselves1 or to external objects1 when placed in opposition to other external objects4 ,for as morality is supposed to attend certain relations1 if these relations could belong to internal actions considered singly1 it would follow1 that we might be guilty of crimes in ourselves1 and independent of our situation1 with respect to the universe3 ,and in like manner1 if these moral relations could be applied to external objects1 it would follow1 that even inanimate beings would be susceptible of moral beauty and deformity4 ,now it seems difficult to imagine1 that any relation can be discovered betwixt our passions1 volitions and actions1 compared to external objects1 which relation might not belong either to these passions and volitions1 or to these external objects1 compared among themselves4 ,but it will be still more difficult to fulfil the second condition1 requisite to justify this system4 ,according to the principles of those who maintain an abstract rational difference betwixt moral good and evil1 and a natural fitness and unfitness of things1 it is not only supposed1 that these relations1 being eternal and immutable1 are the same1 when considered by every rational creature1 but their effects are also supposed to be necessarily the same2 and it is concluded they have no less1 or rather a greater1 influence in directing the will of the deity1 than in governing the rational and virtuous of our own species4 ,these two particulars are evidently distinct4 ,it is one thing to know virtue1 and another to conform the will to it4 ,in order1 therefore1 to prove1 that the measures of right and wrong are eternal laws1 obligatory on every rational mind1 it is not sufficient to shew the relations upon which they are founded3 ,we must also point out the connexion betwixt the relation and the will2 and must prove that this connexion is so necessary1 that in every well-disposed mind1 it must take place and have its influence2 though the difference betwixt these minds be in other respects immense and infinite4 ,now besides what ,i have already proved1 that even in human nature no relation can ever alone produce any action3 besides this1 ,i say1 it has been shewn1 in treating of the understanding1 that there is no connexion of cause and effect1 such as this is supposed to be1 which is discoverable otherwise than by experience1 and of which we can pretend to have any security by the simple consideration of the objects4 ,all beings in the universe1 considered in themselves1 appear entirely loose and independent of each other4 ,it is only by experience we learn their influence and connexion2 and this influence we ought never to extend beyond experience4 ,thus it will be impossible to fulfil the first condition required to the system of eternal measures of right and wrong2 because it is impossible to shew those relations1 upon which such a distinction may be founded3 ,and it is as impossible to fulfil the second condition2 because we cannot prove ,a ,,priori1 that these relations1 if they really existed and were perceived1 would be universally forcible and obligatory4 ,but to make these general reflections more clear and convincing1 we may illustrate them by some particular instances1 wherein this character of moral good or evil is the most universally acknowledged4 ,of all crimes that human creatures are capable of committing1 the most horrid and unnatural is ingratitude1 especially when it is committed against parents1 and appears in the more flagrant instances of wounds and death4 ,this is acknowledged by all mankind1 philosophers as well as the people2 the question only arises among philosophers1 whether the guilt or moral deformity of this action be discovered by demonstrative reasoning1 or be felt by an internal sense1 and by means of some sentiment1 which the reflecting on such an action naturally occasions4 ,this question will soon be decided against the former opinion1 if we can shew the same relations in other objects1 without the notion of any guilt or iniquity attending them4 ,reason or science is nothing but the comparing of ideas1 and the discovery of their relations2 and if the same relations have different characters1 it must evidently follow1 that those characters are not discovered merely by reason4 ,to put the affair1 therefore1 to this trial1 let us chuse any inanimate object1 such as an oak or elm2 and let us suppose1 that by the dropping of its seed1 it produces a sapling below it1 which springing up by degrees1 at last overtops and destroys the parent tree3 ,i ask1 if in this instance there be wanting any relation1 which is discoverable in parricide or ingratitude8 ,is not the one tree the cause of the other's existence2 and the latter the cause of the destruction of the former1 in the same manner as when a child murders his parent8 ,it is not sufficient to reply1 that a choice or will is wanting4 ,for in the case of parricide1 a will does not give rise to any ,,different relations1 but is only the cause from which the action is derived2 and consequently produces the same relations1 that in the oak or elm arise from some other principles4 ,it is a will or choice1 that determines a man to kill his parent2 and they are the laws of matter and motion1 that determine a sapling to destroy the oak1 from which it sprung4 ,here then the same relations have different causes2 but still the relations are the same3 ,and as their discovery is not in both cases attended with a notion of immorality1 it follows1 that that notion does not arise from such a discovery4 ,but to chuse an instance1 still more resembling2 ,i would fain ask any one1 why incest in the human species is criminal1 and why the very same action1 and the same relations in animals have not the smallest moral turpitude and deformity8 ,if it be answered1 that this action is innocent in animals1 because they have not reason sufficient to discover its turpitude2 but that man1 being endowed with that faculty which ought to restrain him to his duty1 the same action instantly becomes criminal to him2 should this be said1 ,i would reply1 that this is evidently arguing in a circle4 ,for before reason can perceive this turpitude1 the turpitude must exist2 and consequently is independent of the decisions of our reason1 and is their object more properly than their effect4 ,according to this system1 then1 every animal1 that has sense1 and appetite1 and will2 that is1 every animal must be susceptible of all the same virtues and vices1 for which we ascribe praise and blame to human creatures4 ,all the difference is1 that our superior reason may serve to discover the vice or virtue1 and by that means may augment the blame or praise3 ,but still this discovery supposes a separate being in these moral distinctions1 and a being1 which depends only on the will and appetite1 and which1 both in thought and reality1 may be distinguished from the reason4 ,animals are susceptible of the same relations1 with respect to each other1 as the human species1 and therefore would also be susceptible of the same morality1 if the essence of morality consisted in these relations4 ,their want of a sufficient degree of reason may hinder them from perceiving the duties and obligations of morality1 but can never hinder these duties from existing2 since they must antecedently exist1 in order to their being perceived4 ,reason must find them1 and can never produce them4 ,this argument deserves to be weighed1 as being1 in my opinion1 entirely decisive4 ,nor does this reasoning only prove1 that morality consists not in any relations1 that are the objects of science2 but if examined1 will prove with equal certainty1 that it consists not in any matter of fact1 which can be discovered by the understanding4 ,this is the second part of our argument2 and if it can be made evident1 we may conclude1 that morality is not an object of reason4 ,but can there be any difficulty in proving1 that vice and virtue are not matters of fact1 whose existence we can infer by reason8 ,take any action allowed to be vicious3 ,wilful murder1 for instance4 ,examine it in all lights1 and see if you can find that matter of fact1 or real existence1 which you call vice4 ,in which-ever way you take it1 you find only certain passions1 motives1 volitions and thoughts4 ,there is no other matter of fact in the case4 ,the vice entirely escapes you1 as long as you consider the object4 ,you never can find it1 till you turn your reflection into your own breast1 and find a sentiment of disapprobation1 which arises in you1 towards this action4 ,here is a matter of fact2 but it is the object of feeling1 not of reason4 ,it lies in yourself1 not in the object4 ,so that when you pronounce any action or character to be vicious1 you mean nothing1 but that from the constitution of your nature you have a feeling or sentiment of blame from the contemplation of it4 ,vice and virtue1 therefore1 may be compared to sounds1 colours1 heat and cold1 which1 according to modern philosophy1 are not qualities in objects1 but perceptions in the mind3 ,and this discovery in morals1 like that other in physics1 is to be regarded as a considerable advancement of the speculative sciences2 though1 like that too1 it has little or no influence on practice4 ,nothing can be more real1 or concern us more1 than our own sentiments of pleasure and uneasiness2 and if these be favourable to virtue1 and unfavourable to vice1 no more can be requisite to the regulation of our conduct and behaviour4 ,i cannot forbear adding to these reasonings an observation1 which may1 perhaps1 be found of some importance4 ,in every system of morality1 which ,i have hitherto met with1 ,i have always remarked1 that the author proceeds for some time in the ordinary way of reasoning1 and establishes the being of a ,god1 or makes observations concerning human affairs2 when of a sudden ,i am surprized to find1 that instead of the usual copulations of propositions1 is1 and is not1 ,i meet with no proposition that is not connected with an ought1 or an ought not4 ,this change is imperceptible2 but is1 however1 of the last consequence4 ,for as this ought1 or ought not1 expresses some new relation or affirmation1 it is necessary that it should be observed and explained2 and at the same time that a reason should be given1 for what seems altogether inconceivable1 how this new relation can be a deduction from others1 which are entirely different from it4 ,but as authors do not commonly use this precaution1 ,i shall presume to recommend it to the readers2 and am persuaded1 that this small attention would subvert all the vulgar systems of morality1 and let us see1 that the distinction of vice and virtue is not founded merely on the relations of objects1 nor is perceived by reason4 ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,moral ,,distinctions ,,derived ,,from ,a ,,moral ,,sense ,thus the course of the argument leads us to conclude1 that since vice and virtue are not discoverable merely by reason1 or the comparison of ideas1 it must be by means of some impression or sentiment they occasion1 that we are able to mark the difference betwixt them4 ,our decisions concerning moral rectitude and depravity are evidently perceptions2 and as all perceptions are either impressions or ideas1 the exclusion of the one is a convincing argument for the other4 ,morality1 therefore1 is more properly felt than judged of2 though this feeling or sentiment is commonly so soft and gentle1 that we are apt to confound it with an idea1 according to our common custom of taking all things for the same1 which have any near resemblance to each other4 ,the next question is1 of what nature are these impressions1 and after what manner do they operate upon us8 ,here we cannot remain long in suspense1 but must pronounce the impression arising from virtue1 to be agreeable1 and that proceding from vice to be uneasy4 ,every moments experience must convince us of this4 ,there is no spectacle so fair and beautiful as a noble and generous action2 nor any which gives us more abhorrence than one that is cruel and treacherous4 ,no enjoyment equals the satisfaction we receive from the company of those we love and esteem2 as the greatest of all punishments is to be obliged to pass our lives with those we hate or contemn4 ,a very play or romance may afford us instances of this pleasure1 which virtue conveys to us2 and pain1 which arises from vice4 ,now since the distinguishing impressions1 by which moral good or evil is known1 are nothing but particular pains or pleasures2 it follows1 that in all enquiries concerning these moral distinctions1 it will be sufficient to shew the principles1 which make us feel a satisfaction or uneasiness from the survey of any character1 in order to satisfy us why the character is laudable or blameable4 ,an action1 or sentiment1 or character is virtuous or vicious2 why8 because its view causes a pleasure or uneasiness of a particular kind4 ,in giving a reason1 therefore1 for the pleasure or uneasiness1 we sufficiently explain the vice or virtue4 ,to have the sense of virtue1 is nothing but to feel a satisfaction of a particular kind from the contemplation of a character4 ,the very feeling constitutes our praise or admiration4 ,we go no farther2 nor do we enquire into the cause of the satisfaction4 ,we do not infer a character to be virtuous1 because it pleases3 ,but in feeling that it pleases after such a particular manner1 we in effect feel that it is virtuous4 ,the case is the same as in our judgments concerning all kinds of beauty1 and tastes1 and sensations4 ,our approbation is implyed in the immediate pleasure they convey to us4 ,i have objected to the system1 which establishes eternal rational measures of right and wrong1 that it is impossible to shew1 in the actions of reasonable creatures1 any relations1 which are not found in external objects2 and therefore1 if morality always attended these relations1 it were possible for inanimate matter to become virtuous or vicious4 ,now it may1 in like manner1 be objected to the present system1 that if virtue and vice be determined by pleasure and pain1 these qualities must1 in every case1 arise from the sensations2 and consequently any object1 whether animate or inanimate1 rational or irrational1 might become morally good or evil1 provided it can excite a satisfaction or uneasiness4 ,but though this objection seems to be the very same1 it has by no means the same force1 in the one case as in the other4 ,for1 first1 tis evident1 that under the term pleasure1 we comprehend sensations1 which are very different from each other1 and which have only such a distant resemblance1 as is requisite to make them be expressed by the same abstract term4 ,a good composition of music and a bottle of good wine equally produce pleasure2 and what is more1 their goodness is determined merely by the pleasure4 ,but shall we say upon that account1 that the wine is harmonious1 or the music of a good flavour8 ,in like manner an inanimate object1 and the character or sentiments of any person may1 both of them1 give satisfaction2 but as the satisfaction is different1 this keeps our sentiments concerning them from being confounded1 and makes us ascribe virtue to the one1 and not to the other4 ,nor is every sentiment of pleasure or pain1 which arises from characters and actions1 of that peculiar kind1 which makes us praise or condemn4 ,the good qualities of an enemy are hurtful to us2 but may still command our esteem and respect4 ,it is only when a character is considered in general1 without reference to our particular interest1 that it causes such a feeling or sentiment1 as denominates it morally good or evil4 ,it is true1 those sentiments1 from interest and morals1 are apt to be confounded1 and naturally run into one another4 ,it seldom happens1 that we do not think an enemy vicious1 and can distinguish betwixt his opposition to our interest and real villainy or baseness4 ,but this hinders not1 but that the sentiments are1 in themselves1 distinct2 and a man of temper and judgment may preserve himself from these illusions4 ,in like manner1 though it is certain a musical voice is nothing but one that naturally gives a particular kind of pleasure2 yet it is difficult for a man to be sensible1 that the voice of an enemy is agreeable1 or to allow it to be musical4 ,but a person of a fine ear1 who has the command of himself1 can separate these feelings1 and give praise to what deserves it4 ,,secondly1 ,we may call to remembrance the preceding system of the passions1 in order to remark a still more considerable difference among our pains and pleasures4 ,pride and humility1 love and hatred are excited1 when there is any thing presented to us1 that both bears a relation to the object of the passion1 and produces a separate sensation related to the sensation of the passion4 ,now virtue and vice are attended with these circumstances4 ,they must necessarily be placed either in ourselves or others1 and excite either pleasure or uneasiness2 and therefore must give rise to one of these four passions2 which clearly distinguishes them from the pleasure and pain arising from inanimate objects1 that often bear no relation to us3 ,and this is1 perhaps1 the most considerable effect that virtue and vice have upon the human mind4 ,it may now be asked in general1 concerning this pain or pleasure1 that distinguishes moral good and evil1 ,,from ,,what ,,principles ,,is ,,it ,,derived1 ,,and ,,whence ,,does ,,it ,,arise ,,in ,,the ,,human ,,mind8 ,to this ,i reply1 first1 that it is absurd to imagine1 that in every particular instance1 these sentiments are produced by an original quality and primary constitution4 ,for as the number of our duties is1 in a manner1 infinite1 it is impossible that our original instincts should extend to each of them1 and from our very first infancy impress on the human mind all that multitude of precepts1 which are contained in the compleatest system of ethics4 ,such a method of proceeding is not conformable to the usual maxims1 by which nature is conducted1 where a few principles produce all that variety we observe in the universe1 and every thing is carryed on in the easiest and most simple manner4 ,it is necessary1 therefore1 to abridge these primary impulses1 and find some more general principles1 upon which all our notions of morals are founded4 ,but in the second place1 should it be asked1 ,whether we ought to search for these principles in nature1 or whether we must look for them in some other origin8 ,i would reply1 that our answer to this question depends upon the definition of the word1 ,nature1 than which there is none more ambiguous and equivocal4 ,if nature be opposed to miracles1 not only the distinction betwixt vice and virtue is natural1 but also every event1 which has ever happened in the world1 ,,excepting ,,those ,,miracles1 ,,on ,,which ,,our ,,religion ,,is ,,founded4 ,in saying1 then1 that the sentiments of vice and virtue are natural in this sense1 we make no very extraordinary discovery4 ,but nature may also be opposed to rare and unusual2 and in this sense of the word1 which is the common one1 there may often arise disputes concerning what is natural or unnatural2 and one may in general affirm1 that we are not possessed of any very precise standard1 by which these disputes can be decided4 ,frequent and rare depend upon the number of examples we have observed2 and as this number may gradually encrease or diminish1 it will be impossible to fix any exact boundaries betwixt them4 ,we may only affirm on this head1 that if ever there was any thing1 which could be called natural in this sense1 the sentiments of morality certainly may2 since there never was any nation of the world1 nor any single person in any nation1 who was utterly deprived of them1 and who never1 in any instance1 shewed the least approbation or dislike of manners4 ,these sentiments are so rooted in our constitution and temper1 that without entirely confounding the human mind by disease or madness1 it is impossible to extirpate and destroy them4 ,but nature may also be opposed to artifice1 as well as to what is rare and unusual2 and in this sense it may be disputed1 whether the notions of virtue be natural or not4 ,we readily forget1 that the designs1 and projects1 and views of men are principles as necessary in their operation as heat and cold1 moist and dry3 ,but taking them to be free and entirely our own1 it is usual for us to set them in opposition to the other principles of nature should it1 therefore1 be demanded1 whether the sense of virtue be natural or artificial1 ,i am of opinion1 that it is impossible for me at present to give any precise answer to this question4 ,perhaps it will appear afterwards1 that our sense of some virtues is artificial1 and that of others natural4 ,the discussion of this question will be more proper1 when we enter upon an exact detail of each particular vice and virtue4#d #d ,in the following discourse natural is also opposed sometimes to civil1 sometimes to moral4 ,the opposition will always discover the sense1 in which it is taken4 ,meanwhile it may not be amiss to observe from these definitions of natural and unnatural1 that nothing can be more unphilosophical than those systems1 which assert1 that virtue is the same with what is natural1 and vice with what is unnatural4 ,for in the first sense of the word1 ,nature1 as opposed to miracles1 both vice and virtue are equally natural2 and in the second sense1 as opposed to what is unusual1 perhaps virtue will be found to be the most unnatural4 ,at least it must be owned1 that heroic virtue1 being as unusual1 is as little natural as the most brutal barbarity4 ,as to the third sense of the word1 it is certain1 that both vice and virtue are equally artificial1 and out of nature4 ,for however it may be disputed1 whether the notion of a merit or demerit in certain actions be natural or artificial1 it is evident1 that the actions themselves are artificial1 and are performed with a certain design and intention2 otherwise they could never be ranked under any of these denominations4 ,it is impossible1 therefore1 that the character of natural and unnatural can ever1 in any sense1 mark the boundaries of vice and virtue4 ,thus we are still brought back to our first position1 that virtue is distinguished by the pleasure1 and vice by the pain1 that any action1 sentiment or character gives us by the mere view and contemplation4 ,this decision is very commodious2 because it reduces us to this simple question1 ,why any action or sentiment upon the general view or survey1 gives a certain satisfaction or uneasiness1 in order to shew the origin of its moral rectitude or depravity1 without looking for any incomprehensible relations and qualities1 which never did exist in nature1 nor even in our imagination1 by any clear and distinct conception4 ,i flatter myself ,i have executed a great part of my present design by a state of the question1 which appears to me so free from ambiguity and obscurity4 ,,part ,,ii ,,of ,,justice ,,and ,,injustice ,,sect4 ,i ,,justice1 ,,whether ,a ,,natural ,,or ,,artificial ,,virtue8 ,i have already hinted1 that our sense of every kind of virtue is not natural2 but that there are some virtues1 that produce pleasure and approbation by means of an artifice or contrivance1 which arises from the circumstances and necessity of mankind4 ,of this kind ,i assert justice to be2 and shall endeavour to defend this opinion by a short1 and1 ,i hope1 convincing argument1 before ,i examine the nature of the artifice1 from which the sense of that virtue is derived4 ,it is evident1 that when we praise any actions1 we regard only the motives that produced them1 and consider the actions as signs or indications of certain principles in the mind and temper4 ,the external performance has no merit4 ,we must look within to find the moral quality4 ,this we cannot do directly2 and therefore fix our attention on actions1 as on external signs4 ,but these actions are still considered as signs2 and the ultimate object of our praise and approbation is the motive1 that produced them4 ,after the same manner1 when we require any action1 or blame a person for not performing it1 we always suppose1 that one in that situation should be influenced by the proper motive of that action1 and we esteem it vicious in him to be regardless of it4 ,if we find1 upon enquiry1 that the virtuous motive was still powerful over his breast1 though checked in its operation by some circumstances unknown to us1 we retract our blame1 and have the same esteem for him1 as if he had actually performed the action1 which we require of him4 ,it appears1 therefore1 that all virtuous actions derive their merit only from virtuous motives1 and are considered merely as signs of those motives4 ,from this principle ,i conclude1 that the first virtuous motive1 which bestows a merit on any action1 can never be a regard to the virtue of that action1 but must be some other natural motive or principle4 ,to suppose1 that the mere regard to the virtue of the action may be the first motive1 which produced the action1 and rendered it virtuous1 is to reason in a circle4 ,before we can have such a regard1 the action must be really virtuous2 and this virtue must be derived from some virtuous motive3 ,and consequently the virtuous motive must be different from the regard to the virtue of the action4 ,a virtuous motive is requisite to render an action virtuous4 ,an action must be virtuous1 before we can have a regard to its virtue4 ,some virtuous motive1 therefore1 must be antecedent to that regard4 ,nor is this merely a metaphysical subtilty2 but enters into all our reasonings in common life1 though perhaps we may not be able to place it in such distinct philosophical terms4 ,we blame a father for neglecting his child4 ,why8 because it shews a want of natural affection1 which is the duty of every parent4 ,were not natural affection a duty1 the care of children could not be a duty2 and it were impossible we could have the duty in our eye in the attention we give to our offspring4 ,in this case1 therefore1 all men suppose a motive to the action distinct from a sense of duty4 ,here is a man1 that does many benevolent actions2 relieves the distressed1 comforts the afflicted1 and extends his bounty even to the greatest strangers4 ,no character can be more amiable and virtuous4 ,we regard these actions as proofs of the greatest humanity4 ,this humanity bestows a merit on the actions4 ,a regard to this merit is1 therefore1 a secondary consideration1 and derived from the antecedent principle of humanity1 which is meritorious and laudable4 ,in short1 it may be established as an undoubted maxim1 ,,that ,,no ,,action ,,can ,,be ,,virtuous1 ,,or ,,morally ,,good1 ,,unless ,,there ,,be ,,in ,,human ,,nature ,,some ,,motive ,,to ,,produce ,,it1 ,,distinct ,,from ,,the ,,sense ,,of ,,its ,,morality4 ,but may not the sense of morality or duty produce an action1 without any other motive8 ,i answer1 ,it may3 ,but this is no objection to the present doctrine4 ,when any virtuous motive or principle is common in human nature1 a person1 who feels his heart devoid of that motive1 may hate himself upon that account1 and may perform the action without the motive1 from a certain sense of duty1 in order to acquire by practice1 that virtuous principle1 or at least1 to disguise to himself1 as much as possible1 his want of it4 ,a man that really feels no gratitude in his temper1 is still pleased to perform grateful actions1 and thinks he has1 by that means1 fulfilled his duty4 ,actions are at first only considered as signs of motives3 ,but it is usual1 in this case1 as in all others1 to fix our attention on the signs1 and neglect1 in some measure1 the thing signifyed4 ,but though1 on some occasions1 a person may perform an action merely out of regard to its moral obligation1 yet still this supposes in human nature some distinct principles1 which are capable of producing the action1 and whose moral beauty renders the action meritorious4 ,now to apply all this to the present case2 ,i suppose a person to have lent me a sum of money1 on condition that it be restored in a few days2 and also suppose1 that after the expiration of the term agreed on1 he demands the sum3 ,i ask1 ,what reason or motive have ,i to restore the money8 ,it will1 perhaps1 be said1 that my regard to justice1 and abhorrence of villainy and knavery1 are sufficient reasons for me1 if ,i have the least grain of honesty1 or sense of duty and obligation4 ,and this answer1 no doubt1 is just and satisfactory to man in his civilized state1 and when trained up according to a certain discipline and education4 ,but in his rude and more natural condition1 if you are pleased to call such a condition natural1 this answer would be rejected as perfectly unintelligible and sophistical4 ,for one in that situation would immediately ask you1 ,,wherein ,,consists ,,this ,,honesty ,,and ,,justice1 ,,which ,,you ,,find ,,in ,,restoring ,a ,,loan1 ,,and ,,abstaining ,,from ,,the ,,property ,,of ,,others8 ,it does not surely lie in the external action4 ,it must1 therefore be placed in the motive1 from which the external action is derived4 ,this motive can never be a regard to the honesty of the action4 ,for it is a plain fallacy to say1 that a virtuous motive is requisite to render an action honest1 and at the same time that a regard to the honesty is the motive of the action4 ,we can never have a regard to the virtue of an action1 unless the action be antecedently virtuous4 ,no action can be virtuous1 but so far as it proceeds from a virtuous motive4 ,a virtuous motive1 therefore1 must precede the regard to the virtue1 and it is impossible1 that the virtuous motive and the regard to the virtue can be the same4 ,it is requisite1 then1 to find some motive to acts of justice and honesty1 distinct from our regard to the honesty2 and in this lies the great difficulty4 ,for should we say1 that a concern for our private interest or reputation is the legitimate motive to all honest actions2 it would follow1 that wherever that concern ceases1 honesty can no longer have place4 ,but it is certain1 that self-love1 when it acts at its liberty1 instead of engaging us to honest actions1 is the source of all injustice and violence2 nor can a man ever correct those vices1 without correcting and restraining the natural movements of that appetite4 ,but should it be affirmed1 that the reason or motive of such actions is the regard to publick interest1 to which nothing is more contrary than examples of injustice and dishonesty2 should this be said1 ,i would propose the three following considerations1 as worthy of our attention4 ,first1 public interest is not naturally attached to the observation of the rules of justice2 but is only connected with it1 after an artificial convention for the establishment of these rules1 as shall be shewn more at large hereafter4 ,secondly1 if we suppose1 that the loan was secret1 and that it is necessary for the interest of the person1 that the money be restored in the same manner 7as when the lender would conceal his riches7 in that case the example ceases1 and the public is no longer interested in the actions of the borrower2 though ,i suppose there is no moralist1 who will affirm1 that the duty and obligation ceases4 ,thirdly1 experience sufficiently proves1 that men1 in the ordinary conduct of life1 look not so far as the public interest1 when they pay their creditors1 perform their promises1 and abstain from theft1 and robbery1 and injustice of every kind4 ,that is a motive too remote and too sublime to affect the generality of mankind1 and operate with any force in actions so contrary to private interest as are frequently those of justice and common honesty4 ,in general1 it may be affirmed1 that there is no such passion in human minds1 as the love of mankind1 merely as such1 independent of personal qualities1 of services1 or of relation to ourself4 ,it is true1 there is no human1 and indeed no sensible1 creature1 whose happiness or misery does not1 in some measure1 affect us when brought near to us1 and represented in lively colours3 ,but this proceeds merely from sympathy1 and is no proof of such an universal affection to mankind1 since this concern extends itself beyond our own species4 ,an affection betwixt the sexes is a passion evidently implanted in human nature2 and this passion not only appears in its peculiar symptoms1 but also in inflaming every other principle of affection1 and raising a stronger love from beauty1 wit1 kindness1 than what would otherwise flow from them4 ,were there an universal love among all human creatures1 it would appear after the same manner4 ,any degree of a good quality would cause a stronger affection than the same degree of a bad quality would cause hatred2 contrary to what we find by experience4 ,men's tempers are different1 and some have a propensity to the tender1 and others to the rougher1 affections3 ,but in the main1 we may affirm1 that man in general1 or human nature1 is nothing but the object both of love and hatred1 and requires some other cause1 which by a double relation of impressions and ideas1 may excite these passions4 ,in vain would we endeavour to elude this hypothesis4 ,there are no phaenomena that point out any such kind affection to men1 independent of their merit1 and every other circumstance4 ,we love company in general2 but it is as we love any other amusement4 ,an ,englishman in ,italy is a friend3 ,a ,euro paean in ,china2 and perhaps a man would be beloved as such1 were we to meet him in the moon4 ,but this proceeds only from the relation to ourselves2 which in these cases gathers force by being confined to a few persons4 ,if public benevolence1 therefore1 or a regard to the interests of mankind1 cannot be the original motive to justice1 much less can private benevolence1 or a regard to the interests of the party concerned1 be this motive4 ,for what if he be my enemy1 and has given me just cause to hate him8 ,what if he be a vicious man1 and deserves the hatred of all mankind8 ,what if he be a miser1 and can make no use of what ,i would deprive him of8 ,what if he be a profligate debauchee1 and would rather receive harm than benefit from large possessions8 ,what if ,i be in necessity1 and have urgent motives to acquire something to my family8 ,in all these cases1 the original motive to justice would fail2 and consequently the justice itself1 and along with it all property1 tight1 and obligation4 ,a rich man lies under a moral obligation to communicate to those in necessity a share of his superfluities4 ,were private benevolence the original motive to justice1 a man would not be obliged to leave others in the possession of more than he is obliged to give them4 ,at least the difference would be very inconsiderable4 ,men generally fix their affections more on what they are possessed of1 than on what they never enjoyed3 ,for this reason1 it would be greater cruelty to dispossess a man of any thing1 than not to give it him4 ,but who will assert1 that this is the only foundation of justice8 ,besides1 we must consider1 that the chief reason1 why men attach themselves so much to their possessions is1 that they consider them as their property1 and as secured to them inviolably by the laws of society4 ,but this is a secondary consideration1 and dependent on the preceding notions of justice and property4 ,a man's property is supposed to be fenced against every mortal1 in every possible case4 ,but private benevolence is1 and ought to be1 weaker in some persons1 than in others3 ,and in many1 or indeed in most persons1 must absolutely fail4 ,private benevolence1 therefore1 is not the original motive of justice4 ,from all this it follows1 that we have no real or universal motive for observing the laws of equity1 but the very equity and merit of that observance2 and as no action can be equitable or meritorious1 where it cannot arise from some separate motive1 there is here an evident sophistry and reasoning in a circle4 ,unless1 therefore1 we will allow1 that nature has established a sophistry1 and rendered it necessary and unavoidable1 we must allow1 that the sense of justice and injustice is not derived from nature1 but arises artificially1 though necessarily from education1 and human conventions4 ,i shall add1 as a corollary to this reasoning1 that since no action can be laudable or blameable1 without some motives or impelling passions1 distinct from the sense of morals1 these distinct passions must have a great influence on that sense4 ,it is according to their general force in human nature1 that we blame or praise4 ,in judging of the beauty of animal bodies1 we always carry in our eye the economy of a certain species2 and where the limbs and features observe that proportion1 which is common to the species1 we pronounce them handsome and beautiful4 ,in like manner we always consider the natural and usual force of the passions1 when we determine concerning vice and virtue2 and if the passions depart very much from the common measures on either side1 they are always disapproved as vicious4 ,a man naturally loves his children better than his nephews1 his nephews better than his cousins1 his cousins better than strangers1 where every thing else is equal4 ,hence arise our common measures of duty1 in preferring the one to the other4 ,our sense of duty always follows the common and natural course of our passions4 ,to avoid giving offence1 ,i must here observe1 that when ,i deny justice to be a natural virtue1 ,i make use of the word1 natural1 only as opposed to artificial4 ,in another sense of the word2 as no principle of the human mind is more natural than a sense of virtue2 so no virtue is more natural than justice4 ,mankind is an inventive species2 and where an invention is obvious and absolutely necessary1 it may as properly be said to be natural as any thing that proceeds immediately from original principles1 without the intervention of thought or reflection4 ,though the rules of justice be artificial1 they are not arbitrary4 ,nor is the expression improper to call them ,laws of ,nature2 if by natural we understand what is common to any species1 or even if we confine it to mean what is inseparable from the species4 ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,of ,,the ,,origin ,,of ,,justice ,,and ,,property ,we now proceed to examine two questions1 viz1 ,,concerning ,,the ,,manner1 ,,in ,,which ,,the ,,rules ,,of ,,justice ,,are ,,established ,,by ,,the ,,artifice ,,of ,,men2 and ,,concerning ,,the ,,reasons1 ,,which ,,determine ,,us ,,to ,,attribute ,,to ,,the ,,observance ,,or ,,neglect ,,of ,,these ,,rules ,a ,,moral ,,beauty ,,and ,,deformity4 ,these questions will appear afterwards to be distinct4 ,we shall begin with the former4 ,of all the animals1 with which this globe is peopled1 there is none towards whom nature seems1 at first sight1 to have exercised more cruelty than towards man1 in the numberless wants and necessities1 with which she has loaded him1 and in the slender means1 which she affords to the relieving these necessities4 ,in other creatures these two particulars generally compensate each other4 ,if we consider the lion as a voracious and carnivorous animal1 we shall easily discover him to be very necessitous2 but if we turn our eye to his make and temper1 his agility1 his courage1 his arms1 and his force1 we shall find1 that his advantages hold proportion with his wants4 ,the sheep and ox are deprived of all these advantages2 but their appetites are moderate1 and their food is of easy purchase4 ,in man alone1 this unnatural conjunction of infirmity1 and of necessity1 may be observed in its greatest perfection4 ,not only the food1 which is required for his sustenance1 flies his search and approach1 or at least requires his labour to be produced1 but he must be possessed of cloaths and lodging1 to defend him against the injuries of the weather2 though to consider him only in himself1 he is provided neither with arms1 nor force1 nor other natural abilities1 which are in any degree answerable to so many necessities4 ,it is by society alone he is able to supply his defects1 and raise himself up to an equality with his fellow-creatures1 and even acquire a superiority above them4 ,by society all his infirmities are compensated2 and though in that situation his wants multiply every moment upon him1 yet his abilities are still more augmented1 and leave him in every respect more satisfied and happy1 than it is possible for him1 in his savage and solitary condition1 ever to become4 ,when every individual person labours apart1 and only for himself1 his force is too small to execute any considerable work2 his labour being employed in supplying all his different necessities1 he never attains a perfection in any particular art2 and as his force and success are not at all times equal1 the least failure in either of these particulars must be attended with inevitable ruin and misery4 ,society provides a remedy for these three inconveniences4 ,by the conjunction of forces1 our power is augmented3 ,by the partition of employments1 our ability encreases3 ,and by mutual succour we are less exposed to fortune and accidents4 ,it is by this additional force1 ability1 and security1 that society becomes advantageous4 ,but in order to form society1 it is requisite not only that it be advantageous1 but also that men be sensible of these advantages2 and it is impossible1 in their wild uncultivated state1 that by study and reflection alone1 they should ever be able to attain this knowledge4 ,most fortunately1 therefore1 there is conjoined to those necessities1 whose remedies are remote and obscure1 another necessity1 which having a present and more obvious remedy1 may justly be regarded as the first and original principle of human society4 ,this necessity is no other than that natural appetite betwixt the sexes1 which unites them together1 and preserves their union1 till a new tye takes place in their concern for their common offspring4 ,this new concern becomes also a principle of union betwixt the parents and offspring1 and forms a more numerous society2 where the parents govern by the advantage of their superior strength and wisdom1 and at the same time are restrained in the exercise of their authority by that natural affection1 which they bear their children4 ,in a little time1 custom and habit operating on the tender minds of the children1 makes them sensible of the advantages1 which they may reap from society1 as well as fashions them by degrees for it1 by rubbing off those rough corners and untoward affections1 which prevent their coalition4 ,for it must be confest1 that however the circumstances of human nature may render an union necessary1 and however those passions of lust and natural affection may seem to render it unavoidable2 yet there are other particulars in our natural temper1 and in our outward circumstances1 which are very incommodious1 and are even contrary to the requisite conjunction4 ,among the former1 we may justly esteem our selfishness to be the most considerable4 ,i am sensible1 that generally speaking1 the representations of this quality have been carried much too far2 and that the descriptions1 which certain philosophers delight so much to form of mankind in this particular1 are as wide of nature as any accounts of monsters1 which we meet with in fables and romances4 ,so far from thinking1 that men have no affection for any thing beyond themselves1 ,i am of opinion1 that though it be rare to meet with one1 who loves any single person better than himself2 yet it is as rare to meet with one1 in whom all the kind affections1 taken together1 do not overbalance all the selfish4 ,consult common experience3 ,do you not see1 that though the whole expence of the family be generally under the direction of the master of it1 yet there are few that do not bestow the largest part of their fortunes on the pleasures of their wives1 and the education of their children1 reserving the smallest portion for their own proper use and entertainment4 ,this is what we may observe concerning such as have those endearing ties2 and may presume1 that the case would be the same with others1 were they placed in a like situation4 ,but though this generosity must be acknowledged to the honour of human nature1 we may at the same time remark1 that so noble an affection1 instead of fitting men for large societies1 is almost as contrary to them1 as the most narrow selfishness4 ,for while each person loves himself better than any other single person1 and in his love to others bears the greatest affection to his relations and acquaintance1 this must necessarily produce an oppositon of passions1 and a consequent opposition of actions2 which cannot but be dangerous to the new-established union4 ,it is however worth while to remark1 that this contrariety of passions would be attended with but small danger1 did it not concur with a peculiarity in our outward circumstances1 which affords it an opportunity of exerting itself4 ,there are different species of goods1 which we are possessed of2 the internal satisfaction of our minds1 the external advantages of our body1 and the enjoyment of such possessions as we have acquired by our industry and good fortune4 ,we are perfectly secure in the enjoyment of the first4 ,the second may be ravished from us1 but can be of no advantage to him who deprives us of them4 ,the last only are both exposed to the violence of others1 and may be transferred without suffering any loss or alteration2 while at the same time1 there is not a sufficient quantity of them to supply every one's desires and necessities4 ,as the improvement1 therefore1 of these goods is the chief advantage of society1 so the instability of their possession1 along with their scarcity1 is the chief impediment4 ,in vain should we expect to find1 in uncultivated nature1 a remedy to this inconvenience2 or hope for any inartificial principle of the human mind1 which might controul those partial affections1 and make us overcome the temptations arising from our circumstances4 ,the idea of justice can never serve to this purpose1 or be taken for a natural principle1 capable of inspiring men with an equitable conduct towards each other4 ,that virtue1 as it is now understood1 would never have been dreamed of among rude and savage men4 ,for the notion of injury or injustice implies an immorality or vice committed against some other person3 ,and as every immorality is derived from some defect or unsoundness of the passions1 and as this defect must be judged of1 in a great measure1 from the ordinary course of nature in the constitution of the mind2 it will be easy to know1 whether we be guilty of any immorality1 with regard to others1 by considering the natural1 and usual force of those several affections1 which are directed towards them4 ,now it appears1 that in the original frame of our mind1 our strongest attention is confined to ourselves2 our next is extended to our relations and acquaintance2 and it is only the weakest which reaches to strangers and indifferent persons4 ,this partiality1 then1 and unequal affection1 must not only have an influence on our behaviour and conduct in society1 but even on our ideas of vice and virtue2 so as to make us regard any remarkable transgression of such a degree of partiality1 either by too great an enlargement1 or contraction of the affections1 as vicious and immoral4 ,this we may observe in our common judgments concerning actions1 where we blame a person1 who either centers all his affections in his family1 or is so regardless of them1 as1 in any opposition of interest1 to give the preference to a stranger1 or mere chance acquaintance4 ,from all which it follows1 that our natural uncultivated ideas of morality1 instead of providing a remedy for the partiality of our affections1 do rather conform themselves to that partiality1 and give it an additional force and influence4 ,the remedy1 then1 is not derived from nature1 but from artifice2 or more properly speaking1 nature provides a remedy in the judgment and understanding1 for what is irregular and incommodious in the affections4 ,for when men1 from their early education in society1 have become sensible of the infinite advantages that result from it1 and have besides acquired a new affection to company and conversation2 and when they have observed1 that the principal disturbance in society arises from those goods1 which we call external1 and from their looseness and easy transition from one person to another2 they must seek for a remedy by putting these goods1 as far as possible1 on the same footing with the fixed and constant advantages of the mind and body4 ,this can be done after no other manner1 than by a convention entered into by all the members of the society to bestow stability on the possession of those external goods1 and leave every one in the peaceable enjoyment of what he may acquire by his fortune and industry4 ,by this means1 every one knows what he may safely possess2 and the passions ale restrained in their partial and contradictory motions4 ,nor is such a restraint contrary to these passions2 for if so1 it could never be entered into1 nor maintained2 but it is only contrary to their heedless and impetuous movement4 ,instead of departing from our own interest1 or from that of our nearest friends1 by abstaining from the possessions of others1 we cannot better consult both these interests1 than by such a convention2 because it is by that means we maintain society1 which is so necessary to their well-being and subsistence1 as well as to our own4 ,this convention is not of the nature of a promise3 ,for even promises themselves1 as we shall see afterwards1 arise from human conventions4 ,it is only a general sense of common interest2 which sense all the members of the society express to one another1 and which induces them to regulate their conduct by certain rules4 ,i observe1 that it will be for my interest to leave another in the possession of his goods1 provided he will act in the same manner with regard to me4 ,he is sensible of a like interest in the regulation of his conduct4 ,when this common sense of interest is mutually expressed1 and is known to both1 it produces a suitable resolution and behaviour4 ,and this may properly enough be called a convention or agreement betwixt us1 though without the interposition of a promise2 since the actions of each of us have a reference to those of the other1 and are performed upon the supposition1 that something is to be performed on the other part4 ,two men1 who pull the oars of a boat1 do it by an agreement or convention1 though they have never given promises to each other4 ,nor is the rule concerning the stability of possession the less derived from human conventions1 that it arises gradually1 and acquires force by a slow progression1 and by our repeated experience of the inconveniences of transgressing it4 ,on the contrary1 this experience assures us still more1 that the sense of interest has become common to all our fellows1 and gives us a confidence of the future regularity of their conduct3 ,and it is only on the expectation of this1 that our moderation and abstinence are founded4 ,in like manner are languages gradually established by human conventions without any promise4 ,in like manner do gold and silver become the common measures of exchange1 and are esteemed sufficient payment for what is of a hundred times their value4 ,after this convention1 concerning abstinence from the possessions of others1 is entered into1 and every one has acquired a stability in his possessions1 there immediately arise the ideas of justice and injustice2 as also those of property1 right1 and obligation4 ,the latter are altogether unintelligible without first understanding the former4 ,our property is nothing but those goods1 whose constant possession is established by the laws of society2 that is1 by the laws of justice4 ,those1 therefore1 who make use of the words property1 or right1 or obligation1 before they have explained the origin of justice1 or even make use of them in that explication1 are guilty of a very gross fallacy1 and can never reason upon any solid foundation4 ,a man's property is some object related to him4 ,this relation is not natural1 but moral1 and founded on justice4 ,it is very preposterous1 therefore1 to imagine1 that we can have any idea of property1 without fully comprehending the nature of justice1 and shewing its origin in the artifice and contrivance of man4 ,the origin of justice explains that of property4 ,the same artifice gives rise to both4 ,as our first and most natural sentiment of morals is founded on the nature of our passions1 and gives the preference to ourselves and friends1 above strangers2 it is impossible there can be naturally any such thing as a fixed right or property1 while the opposite passions of men impel them in contrary directions1 and are not restrained by any convention or agreement4 ,no one can doubt1 that the convention for the distinction of property1 and for the stability of possession1 is of all circumstances the most necessary to the establishment of human society1 and that after the agreement for the fixing and observing of this rule1 there remains little or nothing to be done towards settling a perfect harmony and concord4 ,all the other passions1 besides this of interest1 are either easily restrained1 or are not of such pernicious consequence1 when indulged4 ,vanity is rather to be esteemed a social passion1 and a bond of union among men4 ,pity and love are to be considered in the same light4 ,and as to envy and revenge1 though pernicious1 they operate only by intervals1 and are directed against particular persons1 whom we consider as our superiors or enemies4 ,this avidity alone1 of acquiring goods and possessions for ourselves and our nearest friends1 is insatiable1 perpetual1 universal1 and directly destructive of society4 ,there scarce is any one1 who is not actuated by it2 and there is no one1 who has not reason to fear from it1 when it acts without any restraint1 and gives way to its first and most natural movements4 ,so that upon the whole1 we are to esteem the difficulties in the establishment of society1 to be greater or less1 according to those we encounter in regulating and restraining this passion4 ,it is certain1 that no affection of the human mind has both a sufficient force1 and a proper direction to counterbalance the love of gain1 and render men fit members of society1 by making them abstain from the possessions of others4 ,benevolence to strangers is too weak for this purpose2 and as to the other passions1 they rather inflame this avidity1 when we observe1 that the larger our possessions are1 the more ability we have of gratifying all our appetites4 ,there is no passion1 therefore1 capable of controlling the interested affection1 but the very affection itself1 by an alteration of its direction4 ,now this alteration must necessarily take place upon the least reflection2 since it is evident1 that the passion is much better satisfyed by its restraint1 than by its liberty1 and that in preserving society1 we make much greater advances in the acquiring possessions1 than in the solitary and forlorn condition1 which must follow upon violence and an universal licence4 ,the question1 therefore1 concerning the wickedness or goodness of human nature1 enters not in the least into that other question concerning the origin of society2 nor is there any thing to be considered but the degrees of men's sagacity or folly4 ,for whether the passion of self-interest be esteemed vicious or virtuous1 it is all a case2 since itself alone restrains it3 ,so that if it be virtuous1 men become social by their virtue2 if vicious1 their vice has the same effect4 ,now as it is by establishing the rule for the stability of possession1 that this passion restrains itself2 if that rule be very abstruse1 and of difficult invention2 society must be esteemed1 in a manner1 accidental1 and the effect of many ages4 ,but if it be found1 that nothing can be more simple and obvious than that rule2 that every parent1 in order to preserve peace among his children1 must establish it2 and that these first rudiments of justice must every day be improved1 as the society enlarges3 ,if all this appear evident1 as it certainly must1 we may conclude1 that it is utterly impossible for men to remain any considerable time in that savage condition1 which precedes society2 but that his very first state and situation may justly be esteemed social4 ,this1 however1 hinders not1 but that philosophers may1 if they please1 extend their reasoning to the supposed state of nature2 provided they allow it to be a mere philosophical fiction1 which never had1 and never could have any reality4 ,human nature being composed of two principal parts1 which are requisite in all its actions1 the affections and understanding2 it is certain1 that the blind motions of the former1 without the direction of the latter1 incapacitate men for society3 ,and it may be allowed us to consider separately the effects1 that result from the separate operations of these two component parts of the mind4 ,the same liberty may be permitted to moral1 which is allowed to natural philosophers2 and it is very usual with the latter to consider any motion as compounded and consisting of two parts separate from each other1 though at the same time they acknowledge it to be in itself uncompounded and inseparable4 ,this state of nature1 therefore1 is to be regarded as a mere fiction1 not unlike that of the golden age1 which poets have invented2 only with this difference1 that the former is described as full of war1 violence and injustice2 whereas the latter is pointed out to us1 as the most charming and most peaceable condition1 that can possibly be imagined4 ,the seasons1 in that first age of nature1 were so temperate1 if we may believe the poets1 that there was no necessity for men to provide themselves with cloaths and houses as a security against the violence of heat and cold4 ,the rivers flowed with wine and milk3 ,the oaks yielded honey2 and nature spontaneously produced her greatest delicacies4 ,nor were these the chief advantages of that happy age4 ,the storms and tempests were not alone removed from nature2 but those more furious tempests were unknown to human breasts1 which now cause such uproar1 and engender such confusion4 ,avarice1 ambition1 cruelty1 selfishness1 were never heard of3 ,cordial affection1 compassion1 sympathy1 were the only movements1 with which the human mind was yet acquainted4 ,even the distinction of mine and thine was banished from that happy race of mortals1 and carryed with them the very notions of property and obligation1 justice and injustice4 ,this1 no doubt1 is to be regarded as an idle fiction2 but yet deserves our attention1 because nothing can more evidently shew the origin of those virtues1 which are the subjects of our present enquiry4 ,i have already observed1 that justice takes its rise from human conventions2 and that these are intended as a remedy to some inconveniences1 which proceed from the concurrence of certain qualities of the human mind with the situation of external objects4 ,the qualities of the mind are selfishness and limited generosity3 ,and the situation of external objects is their easy change1 joined to their scarcity in comparison of the wants and desires of men4 ,but however philosophers may have been bewildered in those speculations1 poets have been guided more infallibly1 by a certain taste or common instinct1 which in most kinds of reasoning goes farther than any of that art and philosophy1 with which we have been yet acquainted4 ,they easily perceived1 if every man had a tender regard for another1 or if nature supplied abundantly all our wants and desires1 that the jealousy of interest1 which justice supposes1 could no longer have place2 nor would there be any occasion for those distinctions and limits of property and possession1 which at present are in use among mankind4 ,encrease to a sufficient degree the benevolence of men1 or the bounty of nature1 and you render justice useless1 by supplying its place with much nobler virtues1 and more valuable blessings4 ,the selfishness of men is animated by the few possessions we have1 in proportion to our wants2 and it is to restrain this selfishness1 that men have been obliged to separate themselves from the community1 and to distinguish betwixt their own goods and those of others4 ,nor need we have recourse to the fictions of poets to learn this2 but beside the reason of the thing1 may discover the same truth by common experience and observation4 ,it is easy to remark1 that a cordial affection renders all things common among friends2 and that married people in particular mutually lose their property1 and are unacquainted with the mine and thine1 which are so necessary1 and yet cause such disturbance in human society4 ,the same effect arises from any alteration in the circumstances of mankind2 as when there is such a plenty of any thing as satisfies all the desires of men3 ,in which case the distinction of property is entirely lost1 and every thing remains in common4 ,this we may observe with regard to air and water1 though the most valuable of all external objects2 and may easily conclude1 that if men were supplied with every thing in the same abundance1 or if every one had the same affection and tender regard for every one as for himself2 justice and injustice would be equally unknown among mankind4 ,here then is a proposition1 which1 ,i think1 may be regarded as certain1 that it is only from the selfishness and confined generosity of men1 along with the scanty provision nature has made for his wants1 that justice derives its origin4 ,if we look backward we shall find1 that this proposition bestows an additional force on some of those observations1 which we have already made on this subject4 ,first1 we may conclude from it1 that a regard to public interest1 or a strong extensive benevolence1 is not our first and original motive for the observation of the rules of justice2 since it is allowed1 that if men were endowed with such a benevolence1 these rules would never have been dreamt of4 ,secondly1 we may conclude from the same principle1 that the sense of justice is not founded on reason1 or on the discovery of certain connexions and relations of ideas1 which are eternal1 immutable1 and universally obligatory4 ,for since it is confest1 that such an alteration as that above-mentioned1 in the temper and circumstances of mankind1 would entirely alter our duties and obligations1 it is necessary upon the common system1 that the sense of virtue is derived from reason1 to shew the change which this must produce in the relations and ideas4 ,but it is evident1 that the only cause1 why the extensive generosity of man1 and the perfect abundance of every thing1 would destroy the very idea of justice1 is because they render it useless2 and that1 on the other hand1 his confined benevolence1 and his necessitous condition1 give rise to that virtue1 only by making it requisite to the publick interest1 and to that of every individual4 ,twas therefore a concern for our own1 and the publick interest1 which made us establish the laws of justice2 and nothing can be more certain1 than that it is not any relation of ideas1 which gives us this concern1 but our impressions and sentiments1 without which every thing in nature is perfectly indifferent to us1 and can never in the least affect us4 ,the sense of justice1 therefore1 is not founded on our ideas1 but on our impressions4 ,thirdly1 we may farther confirm the foregoing proposition1 ,,that ,,those ,,impressions1 ,,which ,,give ,,rise ,,to ,,this ,,sense ,,of ,,justice1 ,,are ,,not ,,natural ,,to ,,the ,,mind ,,of ,,man1 ,,but ,,arise ,,from ,,artifice ,,and ,,human ,,conventions4 ,for since any considerable alteration of temper and circumstances destroys equally justice and injustice2 and since such an alteration has an effect only by changing our own and the publick interest2 it follows1 that the first establishment of the rules of justice depends on these different interests4 ,but if men pursued the publick interest naturally1 and with a hearty affection1 they would never have dreamed of restraining each other by these rules2 and if they pursued their own interest1 without any precaution1 they would run head-long into every kind of injustice and violence4 ,these rules1 therefore1 are artificial1 and seek their end in an oblique and indirect manner2 nor is the interest1 which gives rise to them1 of a kind that could be pursued by the natural and inartificial passions of men4 ,to make this more evident1 consider1 that though the rules of justice are established merely by interest1 their connexion with interest is somewhat singular1 and is different from what may be observed on other occasions4 ,a single act of justice is frequently contrary to public interest2 and were it to stand alone1 without being followed by other acts1 may1 in itself1 be very prejudicial to society4 ,when a man of merit1 of a beneficent disposition1 restores a great fortune to a miser1 or a seditious bigot1 he has acted justly and laudably1 but the public is a real sufferer4 ,nor is every single act of justice1 considered apart1 more conducive to private interest1 than to public2 and it is easily conceived how a man may impoverish himself by a signal instance of integrity1 and have reason to wish1 that with regard to that single act1 the laws of justice were for a moment suspended in the universe4 ,but however single acts of justice may be contrary1 either to public or private interest1 it is certain1 that the whole plan or scheme is highly conducive1 or indeed absolutely requisite1 both to the support of society1 and the well-being of every individual4 ,it is impossible to separate the good from the ill4 ,property must be stable1 and must be fixed by general rules4 ,though in one instance the public be a sufferer1 this momentary ill is amply compensated by the steady prosecution of the rule1 and by the peace and order1 which it establishes in society4 ,and even every individual person must find himself a gainer1 on ballancing the account2 since1 without justice society must immediately dissolve1 and every one must fall into that savage and solitary condition1 which is infinitely worse than the worst situation that can possibly be supposed in society4 ,when therefore men have had experience enough to observe1 that whatever may be the consequence of any single act of justice1 performed by a single person1 yet the whole system of actions1 concurred in by the whole society1 is infinitely advantageous to the whole1 and to every part2 it is not long before justice and property take place4 ,every member of society is sensible of this interest3 ,every one expresses this sense to his fellows1 along with the resolution he has taken of squaring his actions by it1 on condition that others will do the same4 ,no more is requisite to induce any one of them to perform an act of justice1 who has the first opportunity4 ,this becomes an example to others4 ,and thus justice establishes itself by a kind of convention or agreement2 that is1 by a sense of interest1 supposed to be common to all1 and where every single act is performed in expectation that others are to perform the like4 ,without such a convention1 no one would ever have dreamed1 that there was such a virtue as justice1 or have been induced to conform his actions to it4 ,taking any single act1 my justice may be pernicious in every respect2 and it is only upon the supposition that others are to imitate my example1 that ,i can be induced to embrace that virtue2 since nothing but this combination can render justice advantageous1 or afford me any motives to conform my self to its rules4 ,we come now to the second question we proposed1 viz4 ,why we annex the idea of virtue to justice1 and of vice to injustice4 ,this question will not detain us long after the principles1 which we have already established1 ,all we can say of it at present will be dispatched in a few words3 ,and for farther satisfaction1 the reader must wait till we come to the third part of this book4 ,the natural obligation to justice1 viz1 interest1 has been fully explained2 but as to the moral obligation1 or the sentiment of right and wrong1 it will first be requisite to examine the natural virtues1 before we can give a full and satisfactory account of it4 ,after men have found by experience1 that their selfishness and confined generosity1 acting at their liberty1 totally incapacitate them for society2 and at the same time have observed1 that society is necessary to the satisfaction of those very passions1 they are naturally induced to lay themselves under the restraint of such rules1 as may render their commerce more safe and commodious4 ,to the imposition then1 and observance of these rules1 both in general1 and in every particular instance1 they are at first induced only by a regard to interest2 and this motive1 on the first formation of society1 is sufficiently strong and forcible4 ,but when society has become numerous1 and has encreased to a tribe or nation1 this interest is more remote2 nor do men so readily perceive1 that disorder and confusion follow upon every breach of these rules1 as in a more narrow and contracted society4 ,but though in our own actions we may frequently lose sight of that interest1 which we have in maintaining order1 and may follow a lesser and more present interest1 we never fail to observe the prejudice we receive1 either mediately or immediately1 from the injustice of others2 as not being in that case either blinded by passion1 or byassed by any contrary temptation4 ,nay when the injustice is so distant from us1 as no way to affect our interest1 it still displeases us2 because we consider it as prejudicial to human society1 and pernicious to every one that approaches the person guilty of it4 ,we partake of their uneasiness by sympathy2 and as every thing1 which gives uneasiness in human actions1 upon the general survey1 is called ,vice1 and whatever produces satisfaction1 in the same manner1 is denominated ,virtue2 this is the reason why the sense of moral good and evil follows upon justice and injustice4 ,and though this sense1 in the present case1 be derived only from contemplating the actions of others1 yet we fail not to extend it even to our own actions4 ,the general rule reaches beyond those instances1 from which it arose2 while at the same time we naturally sympathize with others in the sentiments they entertain of us4 ,thus self-interest is the original motive to the establishment of justice3 but a sympathy with public interest is the source of the moral approbation1 which attends that virtue4 ,though this progress of the sentiments be natural1 and even necessary1 it is certain1 that it is here forwarded by the artifice of politicians1 who1 in order to govern men more easily1 and preserve peace in human society1 have endeavoured to produce an esteem for justice1 and an abhorrence of injustice4 ,this1 no doubt1 must have its effect2 but nothing can be more evident1 than that the matter has been carryed too far by certain writers on morals1 who seem to have employed their utmost efforts to extirpate all sense of virtue from among mankind4 ,any artifice of politicians may assist nature in the producing of those sentiments1 which she suggests to us1 and may even on some occasions1 produce alone an approbation or esteem for any particular action2 but it is impossible it should be the sole cause of the distinction we make betwixt vice and virtue4 ,for if nature did not aid us in this particular1 it would be in vain for politicians to talk of honourable or dishonourable1 praiseworthy or blameable4 ,these words would be perfectly unintelligible1 and would no more have any idea annexed to them1 than if they were of a tongue perfectly unknown to us4 ,the utmost politicians can perform1 is1 to extend the natural sentiments beyond their original bounds2 but still nature must furnish the materials1 and give us some notion of moral distinctions4 ,as publick praise and blame encrease our esteem for justice2 so private education and instruction contribute to the same effect4 ,for as parents easily observe1 that a man is the more useful1 both to himself and others1 the greater degree of probity and honour he is endowed with2 and that those principles have greater force1 when custom and education assist interest and reflection3 ,for these reasons they are induced to inculcate on their children1 from their earliest infancy1 the principles of probity1 and teach them to regard the observance of those rules1 by which society is maintained1 as worthy and honourable1 and their violation as base and infamous4 ,by this means the sentiments of honour may take root in their tender minds1 and acquire such firmness and solidity1 that they may fall little short of those principles1 which are the most essential to our natures1 and the most deeply radicated in our internal constitution4 ,what farther contributes to encrease their solidity1 is the interest of our reputation1 after the opinion1 that a merit or demerit attends justice or injustice1 is once firmly established among mankind4 ,there is nothing1 which touches us more nearly than our reputation1 and nothing on which our reputation more depends than our conduct1 with relation to the property of others4 ,for this reason1 every one1 who has any regard to his character1 or who intends to live on good terms with mankind1 must fix an inviolable law to himself1 never1 by any temptation1 to be induced to violate those principles1 which are essential to a man of probity and honour4 ,i shall make only one observation before ,i leave this subject1 viz1 that though ,i assert1 that in the state of nature1 or that imaginary state1 which preceded society1 there be neither justice nor injustice1 yet ,i assert not1 that it was allowable1 in such a state1 to violate the property of others4 ,i only maintain1 that there was no such thing as property2 and consequently could be no such thing as justice or injustice4 ,i shall have occasion to make a similar reflection with regard to promises1 when ,i come to treat of them2 and ,i hope this reflection1 when duly weighed1 will suffice to remove all odium from the foregoing opinions1 with regard to justice and injustice4 ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,of ,,the ,,rules ,,which ,,determine ,,property ,though the establishment of the rule1 concerning the stability of possession1 be not only useful1 but even absolutely necessary to human society1 it can never serve to any purpose1 while it remains in such general terms4 ,some method must be shewn1 by which we may distinguish what particular goods are to be assigned to each particular person1 while the rest of mankind are excluded from their possession and enjoyment4 ,our next business1 then1 must be to discover the reasons which modify this general rule1 and fit it to the common use and practice of the world4 ,it is obvious1 that those reasons are not derived from any utility or advantage1 which either the particular person or the public may reap from his enjoyment of any particular goods1 beyond what would result from the possession of them by any other person4 ,twere better1 no doubt1 that every one were possessed of what is most suitable to him1 and proper for his use3 ,but besides1 that this relation of fitness may be common to several at once1 it is liable to so many controversies1 and men are so partial and passionate in judging of these controversies1 that such a loose and uncertain rule would be absolutely incompatible with the peace of human society4 ,the convention concerning the stability of possession is entered into1 in order to cut off all occasions of discord and contention2 and this end would never be attained1 were we allowed to apply this rule differently in every particular case1 according to every particular utility1 which might be discovered in such an application4 ,justice1 in her decisions1 never regards the fitness or unfitness of objects to particular persons1 but conducts herself by more extensive views4 ,whether a man be generous1 or a miser1 he is equally well received by her1 and obtains with the same facility a decision in his favours1 even for what is entirely useless to him4 ,it follows therefore1 that the general rule1 that possession must be stable1 is not applied by particular judgments1 but by other general rules1 which must extend to the whole society1 and be inflexible either by spite or favour4 ,to illustrate this1 ,i propose the following instance4 ,i first consider men in their savage and solitary condition2 and suppose1 that being sensible of the misery of that state1 and foreseeing the advantages that would result from society1 they seek each other's company1 and make an offer of mutual protection and assistance4 ,i also suppose1 that they are endowed with such sagacity as immediately to perceive1 that the chief impediment to this project of society and partnership lies in the avidity and selfishness of their natural temper2 to remedy which1 they enter into a convention for the stability of possession1 and for mutual restraint and forbearance4 ,i am sensible1 that this method of proceeding is not altogether natural2 but besides that ,i here only suppose those reflections to be formed at once1 which in fact arise insensibly and by degrees2 besides this1 ,i say1 it is very possible1 that several persons1 being by different accidents separated from the societies1 to which they formerly belonged1 may be obliged to form a new society among themselves2 in which case they are entirely in the situation above-mentioned4 ,it is evident1 then1 that their first difficulty1 in this situation1 after the general convention for the establishment of society1 and for the constancy of possession1 is1 how to separate their possessions1 and assign to each his particular portion1 which he must for the future inalterably enjoy4 ,this difficulty will not detain them long2 but it must immediately occur to them1 as the most natural expedient1 that every one continue to enjoy what he is at present master of1 and that property or constant possession be conjoined to the immediate possession4 ,such is the effect of custom1 that it not only reconciles us to any thing we have long enjoyed1 but even gives us an affection for it1 and makes us prefer it to other objects1 which may be more valuable1 but are less known to us4 ,what has long lain under our eye1 and has often been employed to our advantage1 that we are always the most unwilling to part with2 but can easily live without possessions1 which we never have enjoyed1 and are not accustomed to4 ,it is evident1 therefore1 that men would easily acquiesce in this expedient1 that every one continue to enjoy what he is at present possessed of2 and this is the reason1 why they would so naturally agree in preferring it4#a #a ,no questions in philosophy are more difficult1 than when a number of causes present themselves for the same phnomenon1 to determine which is the principal and predominant4 ,there seldom is any very precise argument to fix our choice1 and men must be contented to be guided by a kind of taste or fancy1 arising from analogy1 and a comparison of familiar instances4 ,thus1 in the present case1 there are1 no doubt1 motives of public interest for most of the rules1 which determine property2 but still ,i suspect1 that these rules are principally fixed by the imagination1 or the more frivolous properties of our thought and conception4 ,i shall continue to explain these causes1 leaving it to the reader's choice1 whether he will prefer those derived from publick utility1 or those derived from the imagination4 ,we shall begin with the right of the present possessor4 ,it is a quality1 which ,i have already observed in human nature1 that when two objects appear in a close relation to each other1 the mind is apt to ascribe to them any additional relation1 in order to compleat the union2 and this inclination is so strong1 as often to make us run into errors 7such as that of the conjunction of thought and matter7 if we find that they can serve to that purpose4 ,many of our impressions are incapable of place or local position2 and yet those very impressions we suppose to have a local conjunction with the impressions of sight and touch1 merely because they are conjoined by causation1 and are already united in the imagination4 ,since1 therefore1 we can feign a new relation1 and even an absurd one1 in order to compleat any union1 it will easily be imagined1 that if there be any relations1 which depend on the mind1 it will readily conjoin them to any preceding relation1 and unite1 by a new bond1 such objects as have already an union in the fancy4 ,thus for instance1 we never fail1 in our arrangement of bodies1 to place those which are resembling in contiguity to each other1 or at least in correspondent points of view2 because we feel a satisfaction in joining the relation of contiguity to that of resemblance1 or the resemblance of situation to that of qualities4 ,and this is easily accounted for from the known properties of human nature4 ,when the mind is determined to join certain objects1 but undetermined in its choice of the particular objects1 ,it naturally turns its eye to such as are related together4 ,they are already united in the mind3 ,they present themselves at the same time to the conception2 and instead of requiring any new reason for their conjunction1 it would require a very powerful reason to make us over-look this natural affinity4 ,this we shall have occasion to explain more fully afterwards1 when we come to treat of beauty4 ,in the mean time1 we may content ourselves with observing1 that the same love of order and uniformity1 which arranges the books in a library1 and the chairs in a parlour1 contribute to the formation of society1 and to the well-being of mankind1 by modifying the general rule concerning the stability of possession4 ,and as property forms a relation betwixt a person and an object1 it is natural to found it on some preceding relation2 and as property ,is nothing but a constant possession1 secured by the laws of society1 it is natural to add it to the present possession1 which is a relation that resembles it4 ,for this also has its influence4 ,if it be natural to conjoin all sorts of relations1 it is more so1 to conjoin such relations as are resembling1 and are related together4 ,but we may observe1 that though the rule of the assignment of property to the present possessor be natural1 and by that means useful1 yet its utility extends not beyond the first formation of society2 nor would any thing be more pernicious1 than the constant observance of it2 by which restitution would be excluded1 and every injustice would be authorized and rewarded4 ,we must1 therefore1 seek for some other circumstance1 that may give rise to property after society is once established2 and of this kind1 ,i find four most considerable1 viz4 ,occupation1 ,prescription1 ,accession1 and ,succession4 ,we shall briefly examine each of these1 beginning with ,occupation4 ,the possession of all external goods is changeable and uncertain2 which is one of the most considerable impediments to the establishment of society1 and is the reason why1 by universal agreement1 express or tacite1 men restrain themselves by what we now call the rules of justice and equity4 ,the misery of the condition1 which precedes this restraint1 is the cause why we submit to that remedy as quickly as possible2 and this affords us an easy reason1 why we annex the idea of property to the first possession1 or to occupation4 ,men are unwilling to leave property in suspense1 even for the shortest time1 or open the least door to violence and disorder4 ,to which we may add1 that the first possession always engages the attention most2 and did we neglect it1 there would be no colour of reason for assigning property to any succeeding possession4#b #b ,some philosophers account for the right of occupation1 by saying1 that every one has a property in his own labour2 and when he joins that labour to any thing1 it gives him the property of the whole3 ,but1 #a4 ,there are several kinds of occupation1 where we cannot be said to join our labour to the object we acquire3 ,as when we possess a meadow by grazing our cattle upon it4 #b4 ,this accounts for the matter by means of accession2 which is taking a needless circuit4 #c4 ,we cannot be said to join our labour to any thing but in a figurative sense4 ,properly speaking1 we only make an alteration on it by our labour4 ,this forms a relation betwixt us and the object2 and thence arises the property1 according to the preceding principles4 ,there remains nothing1 but to determine exactly1 what is meant by possession2 and this is not so easy as may at first sight be imagined4 ,we are said to be in possession of any thing1 not only when we immediately touch it1 but also when we are so situated with respect to it1 as to have it in our power to use it2 and may move1 alter1 or destroy it1 according to our present pleasure or advantage4 ,this relation1 then1 is a species of cause and effect2 and as property is nothing but a stable possession1 derived from the rules of justice1 or the conventions of men1 it is to be considered as the same species of relation4 ,but here we may observe1 that as the power of using any object becomes more or less certain1 according as the interruptions we may meet with are more or less probable2 and as this probability may increase by insensible degrees2 it is in many cases impossible to determine when possession begins or ends2 nor is there any certain standard1 by which we can decide such controversies4 ,a wild boar1 that falls into our snares1 is deemed to be in our possession1 if it be impossible for him to escape4 ,but what do we mean by impossible8 ,how do we separate this impossibility from an improbability8 ,and how distinguish that exactly from a probability8 ,mark the precise limits of the one and the other1 and shew the standard1 by which we may decide all disputes that may arise1 and1 as we find by experience1 frequently do arise upon this subject4#c #c ,if we seek a solution of these difficulties in reason and public interest1 we never shall find satisfaction2 and if we look for it in the imagination1 it is evident1 that the qualities1 which operate upon that faculty1 run so insensibly and gradually into each other1 that it is impossible to give them any precise bounds or termination4 ,the difficulties on this head must encrease1 when we consider1 that our judgment alters very sensibly1 according to the subject1 and that the same power and proximity will be deemed possession in one case1 which is not esteemed such in another4 ,a person1 who has hunted a hare to the last degree of weariness1 would look upon it as an injustice for another to rush in before him1 and seize his prey4 ,but the same person advancing to pluck an apple1 that hangs within his reach1 has no reason to complain1 if another1 more alert1 passes him1 and takes possession4 ,what is the reason of this difference1 but that immobility1 not being natural to the hare1 but the effect of industry1 forms in that case a strong relation with the hunter1 which is wanting in the other8 ,here then it appears1 that a certain and infallible power of enjoyment1 without touch or some other sensible relation1 often produces not property3 ,and ,i farther observe1 that a sensible relation1 without any present power1 is sometimes sufficient to give a title to any object4 ,the sight of a thing is seldom a considerable relation1 and is only regarded as such1 when the object is hidden1 or very obscure2 in which case we find1 that the view alone conveys a property2 according to that maxim1 ,,that ,,even ,a ,,whole ,,continent ,,belongs ,,to ,,the ,,nation1 ,,which ,,first ,,discovered ,,it4 ,it is however remarkable that both in the case of discovery and that of possession1 the first discoverer and possessor must join to the relation an intention of rendering himself proprietor1 otherwise the relation will not have its effect2 and that because the connexion in our fancy betwixt the property and the relation is not so great1 but that it requires to be helped by such an intention4 ,from all these circumstances1 it is easy to see how perplexed many questions may become concerning the acquisition of property by occupation2 and the least effort of thought may present us with instances1 which are not susceptible of any reasonable decision4 ,if we prefer examples1 which are real1 to such as are feigned1 we may consider the following one1 which is to be met with in almost every writer1 that has treated of the laws of nature4 ,two ,grecian colonies1 leaving their native country1 in search of new feats1 were informed that a city near them was deserted by its inhabitants4 ,to know the truth of this report1 they dispatched at once two messengers1 one from each colony2 who finding on their approach1 that their information was true1 begun a race together with an intention to take possession of the city1 each of them for his countrymen4 ,one of these messengers1 finding that he was not an equal match for the other1 launched his spear at the gates of the city1 and was so fortunate as to fix it there before the arrival of his companion4 ,this produced a dispute betwixt the two colonies1 which of them was the proprietor of the empty city and this dispute still subsists among philosophers4 ,for my part ,i find the dispute impossible to be decided1 and that because the whole question hangs upon the fancy1 which in this case is not possessed of any precise or determinate standard1 upon which it can give sentence4 ,to make this evident1 let us consider1 that if these two persons had been simply members of the colonies1 and not messengers or deputies1 their actions would not have been of any consequence2 since in that case their relation to the colonies would have been but feeble and imperfect4 ,add to this1 that nothing determined them to run to the gates rather than the walls1 or any other part of the city1 but that the gates1 being the most obvious and remarkable part1 satisfy the fancy best in taking them for the whole2 as we find by the poets1 who frequently draw their images and metaphors from them4 ,besides we may consider1 that the touch or contact of the one messenger is not properly possession1 no more than the piercing the gates with a spear2 but only forms a relation2 and there is a relation1 in the other case1 equally obvious1 tho' not1 perhaps1 of equal force4 ,which of these relations1 then1 conveys a right and property1 or whether any of them be sufficient for that effect1 ,i leave to the decision of such as are wiser than myself4 ,but such disputes may not only arise concerning the real existence of property and possession1 but also concerning their extent2 and these disputes are often susceptible of no decision1 or can be decided by no other faculty than the imagination4 ,a person who lands on the shore of a small island1 that is desart and uncultivated1 is deemed its possessor from the very first moment1 and acquires the property of the whole2 because the object is there bounded and circumscribed in the fancy1 and at the same time is proportioned to the new possessor4 ,the same person landing on a desart island1 as large as ,great ,britain1 extends his property no farther than his immediate possession2 though a numerous colony are esteemed the proprietors of the whole from the instant of their debarkment4 ,but it often happens1 that the title of first possession becomes obscure through time2 and that it is impossible to determine many controversies1 which may arise concerning it4 ,in that case long possession or prescription naturally takes place1 and gives a person a sufficient property in any thing he enjoys4 ,the nature of human society admits not of any great accuracy2 nor can we always remount to the first origin of things1 in order to determine their present condition4 ,any considerable space of time sets objects at such a distance1 that they seem1 in a manner1 to lose their reality1 and have as little influence on the mind1 as if they never had been in being4 ,a man's title1 that is clear and certain at present1 will seem obscure and doubtful fifty years hence1 even though the facts1 on which it is founded1 should be proved with the greatest evidence and certainty4 ,the same facts have not the same influence after so long an interval of time4 ,and this may be received as a convincing argument for our preceding doctrine with regard to property and justice4 ,possession during a long tract of time conveys a title to any object4 ,but as it is certain1 that1 however every thing be produced in time1 there is nothing real that is produced by time2 it follows1 that property being produced by time1 is not any thing real in the objects1 but is the off-spring of the sentiments1 on which alone time is found to have any influence4#d #d ,present possession is plainly a relation betwixt a person and an object2 but is not sufficient to counter-ballance the relation of first possession1 unless the former be long and uninterrupted3 ,in which case the relation is encreased on the side of the present possession1 by the extent of time1 and diminished on that of first possession1 by the distance1 ,this change in the relation produces a consequent change in the property4 ,we acquire the property of objects by accession1 when they are connected in an intimate manner with objects that are already our property1 and at the same time are inferior to them4 ,thus the fruits of our garden1 the offspring of our cattle1 and the work of our slaves1 are all of them esteemed our property1 even before possession4 ,where objects are connected together in the imagination1 they are apt to be put on the same footing1 and are commonly supposed to be endowed with the same qualities4 ,we readily pass from one to the other1 and make no difference in our judgments concerning them2 especially if the latter be inferior to the former4#e #e ,this source of property can never be explained but from the imaginations2 and one may affirm1 that the causes are here unmixed4 ,we shall proceed to explain them more particularly1 and illustrate them by examples from common life and experience4 ,it has been observed above1 that the mind has a natural propensity to join relations1 especially resembling ones1 and finds a hind of fitness and uniformity in such an union4 ,from this propensity are derived these laws of nature1 that upon the first formation of society1 property always follows the present possession2 and afterwards1 that it arises from first or from long possession4 ,now we may easily observe1 that relation is not confined merely to one degree2 but that from an object1 that is related to us1 we acquire a relation to every other object1 which is related to it1 and so on1 till the thought loses the chain by too long a progress1 ,however the relation may weaken by each remove1 it is not immediately destroyed2 but frequently connects two objects by means of an intermediate one1 which is related to both4 ,and this principle is of such force as to give rise to the right of accession1 and causes us to acquire the property not only of such objects as we are immediately possessed of2 but also of such as are closely connected with them4 ,suppose a ,german1 a ,frenchman1 and a ,spaniard to come into a room1 where there are placed upon the table three bottles of wine1 ,rhenish1 ,burgundy and ,port2 and suppose they shoued fall a quarrelling about the division of them2 a person1 who was chosen for umpire would naturally1 to shew his impartiality1 give every one the product of his own country3 ,and this from a principle1 which1 in some measure1 is the source of those laws of nature1 that ascribe property to occupation1 prescription and accession4 ,in all these ,cases1 and particularly that of accession1 there is first a natural union betwixt the idea of the person and that of the object1 and afterwards a new and moral union produced by that right or property1 which we ascribe to the person4 ,but here there occurs a difficulty1 which merits our attention1 and may afford us an opportunity of putting to tryal that singular method of reasoning1 which has been employed on the present subject4 ,i have already observed that the imagination passes with greater facility from little to great1 than from great to little1 and that the transition of ideas is always easier and smoother in the former case than in the latter4 ,now as the right of accession arises from the easy transition of ideas1 by which related objects are connected together1 it shoued naturally be imagined1 that the right of accession must encrease in strength1 in proportion as the transition of ideas is performed with greater facility4 ,it may1 therefore1 be thought1 that when we have acquired the property of any small object1 we shall readily consider any great object related to it as an accession1 and as belonging to the proprietor of the small one2 since the transition is in that case very easy from the small object to the great one1 and shoued connect them together in the closest manner4 ,but ,in fact the case is always found to be otherwise1 ,the empire of ,great ,britain seems to draw along with it the dominion of the ,orkneys1 the ,hebrides1 the isle of ,man1 and the ,isle of ,wight2 but the authority over those lesser islands does not naturally imply any title to ,great ,britain4 ,in short1 a small object naturally follows a great one as its accession2 but a great one ,is never supposed to belong to the proprietor of a small one related to it1 merely on account of that property and relation4 ,yet in this latter case the transition of ideas is smoother from the proprietor to the small object1 which is his property1 and from the small object to the great one1 than in the former case from the proprietor to the great object1 and from the great one to the small4 ,it may therefore be thought1 that these phaenomena are objections to the foregoing hypothesis1 ,,that ,,the ,,ascribing ,,of ,,property ,,to ,,accession ,,is ,,nothing ,,but ,,an ,,affect ,,of ,,the ,,relations ,,of ,,ideas1 ,,and ,,of ,,the ,,smooth ,,transition ,,of ,,the ,,imagination4 ,it will be easy to solve this objection1 if we consider the agility and unsteadiness of the imagination1 with the different views1 in which it is continually placing its objects4 ,when we attribute to a person a property in two objects1 we do not always pass from the person to one object1 and from that to the other related to it4 ,the objects being here to be considered as the property of the person1 we are apt to join them together1 and place them in the same light4 ,suppose1 therefore1 a great and a small object to be related together2 if a person be strongly related to the great object1 he will likewise be strongly related to both the objects1 considered together1 because he ,is related to the most considerable part4 ,on the contrary1 if he be only related to the small object1 he will not be strongly related to both1 considered together1 since his relation lies only with the most trivial part1 which is not apt to strike us in any great degree1 when we consider the whole4 ,and this ,is the reason1 why small objects become accessions to great ones1 and not great to small4 ,it is the general opinion of philosophers and civilians1 that the sea is incapable of becoming the property of any nation2 and that because it is impossible to take possession of it1 or form any such distinct relation with it1 as may be the foundation of property4 ,where this reason ceases1 property immediately takes place4 ,thus the most strenuous advocates for the liberty of the seas universally allow1 that friths and hays naturally belong as an accession to the proprietors of the surrounding continent4 ,these have properly no more bond or union with the land1 than the pacific ocean would have2 but having an union in the fancy1 and being at the same time inferior1 they are of course regarded as an accession4 ,the property of rivers1 by the laws of most nations1 and by the natural turn of our thought1 ,is attributed to the proprietors of their banks1 excepting such vast rivers as the ,rhine or the ,danube1 which seem too large to the imagination to follow as an accession the property of the neighbouring fields4 ,yet even these rivers are considered as the property of that nation1 thro' whose dominions they run2 the idea of a nation being of a suitable bulk to correspond with them1 and bear them such a relation in the fancy4 ,the accessions1 which are made to lands bordering upon rivers1 follow the land1 say the civilians1 provided it be made by what they call alluvion1 that is1 ,insensibly and ,imperceptibly2 which are circumstances that mightily assist the imagination in the conjunction4 ,where there ,is any considerable portion torn at once from one bank1 and joined to another1 it becomes not his property1 whose land it falls on1 till it unite with the land1 and till the trees or plants have spread their roots into both4 ,before that1 the imagination does not sufficiently join them4 ,there are other cases1 which somewhat resemble this of accession1 but which1 at the bottom1 are considerably different1 and merit our attention4 ,of this kind ,is the conjunction of the properties of different persons1 after such a manner as not to admit of separation4 ,the question is1 to whom the united mass must belong4 ,where this conjunction is of such a nature as to admit of division1 but not of separation1 the decision is natural and easy4 ,the whole mass must be supposed to be common betwixt the proprietors of the several parts1 and afterwards must be divided according to the proportions of these parts4 ,but here ,i cannot forbear taking notice of a remarkable subtilty of the ,roman law1 in distinguishing betwixt confusion and commixtion4 ,confusion is an union of two bodies1 such as different liquors1 where the parts become entirely undistinguishable4 ,commixtion is the blending of two bodies1 such as two bushels of corn1 where the parts remain separate in an obvious and visible manner4 ,as in the latter case the imagination discovers not so entire an union as in the former1 but is able to trace and preserve a distinct idea of the property of each2 this is the reason1 why the civil law1 tho' it established an entire community in the case of confusion1 and after that a proportional division1 yet in the case of commixtion1 supposes each of the proprietors to maintain a distinct right2 however necessity may at last force them to submit to the same division4 ,,quod ,,si ,,frumentum ,,titii ,,frumento ,,tuo ,,mistum ,,fuerit3 ,,siquidem ,,ex ,,voluntate ,,vestra1 ,,commune ,,est3 ,,quia ,,singula ,,corpora1 ,,id ,,est1 ,,singula ,,grana1 ,,quae ,,cujusque ,,pro ,,pria ,,fuerunt1 ,,ex ,,consensu ,,vestro ,,communicata ,,sunt4 ,,quod ,,si ,,casu ,,id ,,mistum ,,fuerit1 ,,vel ,,titius ,,id ,,miscuerit ,,sine ,,tua ,,volunt ,,ate1 ,,non ,,videtur ,,id ,,commune ,,esse2 ,,quia ,,singula ,,corpora ,,in ,,sua ,,substantia ,,durant4 ,,sed ,,nec ,,magis ,,istis ,,casibus ,,commune ,,sit ,,frumentum ,,quam ,,grex ,,intelligitur ,,esse ,,corn ,,munis1 ,,si ,,pecora ,,titii ,,tuis ,,pecoribus ,,mista ,,fuerint4 ,,sed ,,si ,,ab ,,alterutro ,,vestrum ,,totum ,,id ,,frumentum ,,retineatur1 ,,in ,,rem ,,quidem ,,actio ,,pro ,,modo ,,frumenti ,,cujusque ,,corn ,,petit4 ,,arbitrio ,,autem ,,judicis1 ,,ut ,,ipse ,,aestimet ,,quale ,,cujusque ,,frumentum ,,fuerit4 ,inst4 ,lib4 ,,il ,tit4 i4 ,sect #bh4 7,in the case that your grain was mixed with that of ,titius1 if it was done voluntarily on the part of both of you1 it is common property1 inasmuch as the individual items1 i4e41 the single grains1 which were the peculiar property of either of you1 were combined with your joint consent4 ,if1 however1 the mixture was accidental1 or if ,titius mixed it without your consent1 it does not appear that it is common property1 ,inasmuch as the several components retain their original identity4 ,rather1 in circumstances of this sort the grain does not become common property1 any more than a herd of cattle is regarded as common property1 ,if ,titius beasts should have become mixed up with yours4 ,however1 if all of the aforesaid corn is kept by either of you1 this gives rise to a suit to determine the ownership of property1 in respect of the amount of corn belonging to each4 ,it is in the discretion of the judge to determine which is the corn belonging to either party47 ,where the properties of two persons are united after such a manner as neither to admit of division nor separation1 as when one builds a house on another's ground1 in that case1 the whole must belong to one of the proprietors3 ,and here ,i assert1 that it naturally is conceived to belong to the proprietor of the most considerable part4 ,for however the compound object may have a relation to two different persons1 and carry our view at once to both of them1 yet as the most considerable part principally engages our attention1 and by the strict union draws the inferior along it2 for this reason1 the whole bears a relation to the proprietor of that part1 and is regarded as his property4 ,the only difficulty is1 what we shall be pleased to call the most considerable part1 and most attractive to the imagination4 ,this quality depends on several different circumstances1 which have little connexion with each other4 ,one part of a compound object may become more considerable than another1 either because it is more constant and durable2 because it is of greater value2 because it is more obvious and remarkable2 because it is of greater extent2 or because its existence is more separate and independent4 ,it will be easy to conceive1 that1 as these circumstances may be conjoined and opposed in all the different ways1 and according to all the different degrees1 which can be imagined1 there will result many cases1 where the reasons on both sides are so equally balanced1 that it is impossible for us to give any satisfactory decision4 ,here then is the proper business of municipal laws1 to fix what the principles of human nature have left undetermined4 ,the superficies yields to the soil1 says the civil law3 ,the writing to the paper3 ,the canvas to the picture4 ,these decisions do not well agree together1 and are a proof of the contrariety of those principles1 from which they are derived4 ,but of all the questions of this kind the most curious is that1 which for so many ages divided the disciples of ,proculus and ,sabinus4 ,suppose a person shoued make a cup from the metal of another1 or a ship from his wood1 and suppose the proprietor of the metal or wood shoued demand his goods1 the question is1 whether he acquires a title to the cup or ship4 ,sabinus maintained the affirmative1 and asserted that the substance or matter is the foundation of all the qualities2 that it is incorruptible and immortal1 and therefore superior to the form1 which is casual and dependent4 ,on the other hand1 ,proculus observed1 that the form is the most obvious and remarkable part1 and that from it bodies are denominated of this or that particular species4 ,to which he might have added1 that the matter or substance is in most bodies so fluctuating and uncertain1 that it is utterly impossible to trace it in all its changes4 ,for my part1 ,i know not from what principles such a controversy can be certainly determined4 ,i shall therefore content my self with observing1 that the decision of ,trebonian seems to me pretty ingenious2 that the cup belongs to the proprietor of the metal1 because it can be brought back to its first form3 ,but that the ship belongs to the author of its form for a contrary reason4 ,but however ingenious this reason may seem1 it plainly depends upon the fancy1 which by the possibility of such a reduction1 finds a closer connexion and relation betwixt a cup and the proprietor of its metal1 than betwixt a ship and the proprietor of its wood1 where the substance is more fixed and unalterable4 ,the right of succession is a very natural one1 from the presumed consent of the parent or near relation1 and from the general interest of mankind1 which requires1 that men's possessions should pass to those1 who are dearest to them1 in order to render them more industrious and frugal4 ,perhaps these causes are seconded by the influence of relation1 or the association of ideas1 by which we are naturally directed to consider the son after the parent's decease1 and ascribe to him a title to his father's possessions4 ,those goods must become the property of some body3 ,but of whom is the question4 ,here it is evident the persons children naturally present themselves to the mind2 and being already4 connected to those possessions by means of their deceased parent1 we are apt to connect them still farther by the relation of property4 ,of this there are many parallel instances4#f #f ,in examining the different titles to authority in government1 we shall meet with many reasons to convince us1 that the right of succession depends1 in a great measure on the imagination4 ,mean while ,i shall rest contented with observing one example1 which belongs to the present subject4 ,suppose that a person die without children1 and that a dispute arises among his relations concerning his inheritance2 it is evident1 that if his riches be deriv'd partly from his father1 partly from his mother1 the most natural way of determining such a dispute1 is1 to divide his possessions1 and assign each part to the family1 from whence it is deriv'd4 ,now as the person is suppos'd to have been once the full and entire proprietor of those goods2 ,i ask1 what is it makes us find a certain equity and natural reason in this partition1 except it be the imagination8 ,his affection to these families does not depend upon his possessions2 for which reason his consent can never be presum'd precisely for such a partition4 ,and as to the public interest1 it seems not to be in the least concern'd on the one side or the other4 ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,the ,,transference ,,of ,,property ,,by ,,consent ,however useful1 or even necessary1 the stability of possession may be to human society1 it is attended with very considerable inconveniences4 ,the relation of fitness or suitableness ought never to enter into consideration1 in distributing the properties of mankind2 but we must govern ourselves by rules1 which are more general in their application1 and more free from doubt and uncertainty4 ,of this kind is present possession upon the first establishment of society2 and afterwards occupation1 prescription1 accession1 and succession4 ,as these depend very much on chance1 they must frequently prove contradictory both to men's wants and desires2 and persons and possessions must often be very ill adjusted4 ,this is a grand inconvenience1 which calls for a remedy4 ,to apply one directly1 and allow every man to seize by violence what he judges to be fit for him1 would destroy society2 and therefore the rules of justice seek some medium betwixt a rigid stability1 and this changeable and uncertain adjustment4 ,but there is no medium better than that obvious one1 that possession and property should always be stable1 except when the proprietor consents to bestow them on some other person4 ,this rule can have no ill consequence1 in occasioning wars and dissentions2 since the proprietor's consent1 who alone is concerned1 is taken along in the alienation3 ,and it may serve to many good purposes in adjusting property to persons4 ,different parts of the earth produce different commodities2 and not only so1 but different men both are by nature fitted for different employments1 and attain to greater perfection in any one1 when they confine themselves to it alone4 ,all this requires a mutual exchange and commerce2 for which reason the translation of property by consent is founded on a law of nature1 as well as its stability without such a consent4 ,so far is determined by a plain utility and interest4 ,but perhaps it is from more trivial reasons1 that delivery1 or a sensible transference of the object is commonly required by civil laws1 and also by the laws of nature1 according to most authors1 as a requisite circumstance in the translation of property4 ,the property of an object1 when taken for something real1 without any reference to morality1 or the sentiments of the mind1 is a quality perfectly insensible1 and even inconceivable2 nor can we form any distinct notion1 either of its stability or translation4 ,this imperfection of our ideas is less sensibly felt with regard to its stability1 as it engages less our attention1 and is easily past over by the mind1 without any scrupulous examination4 ,but as the translation of property from one person to another is a more remarkable event1 the defect of our ideas becomes more sensible on that occasion1 and obliges us to turn ourselves on every side in search of some remedy4 ,now as nothing more enlivens any idea than a present impression1 and a relation betwixt that impression and the idea2 it is natural for us to seek some false light from this quarter4 ,in order to aid the imagination in conceiving the transference of property1 we take the sensible object1 and actually transfer its possession to the person1 on whom we would bestow the property4 ,the supposed resemblance of the actions1 and the presence of this sensible delivery1 deceive the mind1 and make it fancy1 that it conceives the mysterious transition of the property4 ,and that this explication of the matter is just1 appears hence1 that men have invented a symbolical delivery1 to satisfy the fancy1 where the real one is impracticable4 ,thus the giving the keys of a granary is understood to be the delivery of the corn contained in it3 ,the giving of stone and earth represents the delivery of a manor4 ,this is a kind of superstitious practice in civil laws1 and in the laws of nature1 resembling the ,roman catholic superstitions in religion4 ,as the ,roman catholics represent the inconceivable mysteries of the ,christian religion1 and render them more present to the mind1 by a taper1 or habit1 or grimace1 which is supposed to resemble them2 so lawyers and moralists have run into like inventions for the same reason1 and have endeavoured by those means to satisfy themselves concerning the transference of property by consent4 ,,sect4 ,v ,,of ,,the ,,obligation ,,of ,,promises ,that the rule of morality1 which enjoins the performance of promises1 is not natural1 will sufficiently appear from these two propositions1 which ,i proceed to prove1 viz1 that a promise would not be intelligible1 before human conventions had established it2 and that even if it were intelligible1 it would not be attended with any moral obligation4 ,i say1 first1 that a promise is not intelligible naturally1 nor antecedent to human conventions2 and that a man1 unacquainted with society1 could never enter into any engagements with another1 even though they could perceive each other's thoughts by intuition4 ,if promises be natural and intelligible1 there must be some act of the mind attending these words1 ,i promise2 and on this act of the mind must the obligation depend4 ,let us1 therefore1 run over all the faculties of the soul1 and see which of them is exerted in our promises4 ,the act of the mind1 exprest by a promise1 is not a resolution to perform any thing3 ,for that alone never imposes any obligation4 ,nor is it a desire of such a performance3 ,for we may bind ourselves without such a desire1 or even with an aversion1 declared and avowed4 ,neither is it the willing of that action1 which we promise to perform3 ,for a promise always regards some future time1 and the will has an influence only on present actions4 ,it follows1 therefore1 that since the act of the mind1 which enters into a promise1 and produces its obligation1 is neither the resolving1 desiring1 nor willing any particular performance1 it must necessarily be the willing of that obligation1 which arises from the promise4 ,nor is this only a conclusion of philosophy2 but is entirely conformable to our common ways of thinking and of expressing ourselves1 when we say that we are bound by our own consent1 and that the obligation arises from our mere will and pleasure4 ,the only question then is1 whether there be not a manifest absurdity in supposing this act of the mind1 and such an absurdity as no man could fall into1 whose ideas are not confounded with prejudice and the fallacious use of language4 ,all morality depends upon our sentiments2 and when any action1 or quality of the mind1 pleases us after a certain manner1 we say it is virtuous2 and when the neglect1 or nonperformance of it1 displeases us after a like manner1 we say that we lie under an obligation to perform it4 ,a change of the obligation supposes a change of the sentiment2 and a creation of a new obligation supposes some new sentiment to arise4 ,but it is certain we can naturally no more change our own sentiments1 than the motions of the heavens2 nor by a single act of our will1 that is1 by a promise1 render any action agreeable or disagreeable1 moral or immoral2 which1 without that act1 would have produced contrary impressions1 or have been endowed with different qualities4 ,it would be absurd1 therefore1 to will any new obligation1 that is1 any new sentiment of pain or pleasure2 nor is it possible1 that men could naturally fall into so gross an absurdity4 ,a promise1 therefore1 is naturally something altogether unintelligible1 nor is there any act of the mind belonging to it4#g #g ,were morality discoverable by reason1 and not by sentiment1 it would be still more evident1 that promises cou'd make no alteration upon it4 ,morality is suppos'd to consist in relation4 ,every new imposition of morality1 therefore1 must arise from some new relation of objects2 and consequently the will could not produce immediately any change in morals1 but cou'd have that effect only by producing a change upon the objects4 ,but as the moral obligation of a promise is the pure effect of the will1 without the least change in any part of the universe2 it follows1 that promises have no natural obligation4 ,shou'd it be said1 that this act of the will being in effect a new object1 produces new relations and new duties2 ,i wou'd answer1 that this is a pure sophism1 which may be detected by a very moderate share of accuracy and exactness4 ,to will a new obligation1 is to will a new relation of objects2 and therefore1 if this new relation of objects were form'd by the volition itself1 we should in effect will the volition2 which is plainly absurd and impossible4 ,the will has here no object to which it cou'd tend2 but must return upon itself in infinitum4 ,the new obligation depends upon new relations4 ,the new relations depend upon a new volition4 ,the new volition has for object a new obligation1 and consequently new relations1 and consequently a new volition2 which volition again has in view a new obligation1 relation and volition1 without any termination4 ,it is impossible1 therefore1 we cou'd ever will a new obligation2 and consequently it is impossible the will cou'd ever accompany a promise1 or produce a new obligation of morality4 ,but1 secondly1 if there was any act of the mind belonging to it1 it could not naturally produce any obligation4 ,this appears evidently from the foregoing reasoning4 ,a promise creates a new obligation4 ,a new obligation supposes new sentiments to arise4 ,the will never creates new sentiments4 ,there could not naturally1 therefore1 arise any obligation from a promise1 even supposing the mind could fall into the absurdity of willing that obligation4 ,the same truth may be proved still more evidently by that reasoning1 which proved justice in general to be an artificial virtue4 ,no action can be required of us as our duty1 unless there be implanted in human nature some actuating passion or motive1 capable of producing the action4 ,this motive cannot be the sense of duty4 ,a sense of duty supposes an antecedent obligation3 ,and where an action is not required by any natural passion1 it cannot be required by any natural obligation2 since it may be omitted without proving any defect or imperfection in the mind and temper1 and consequently without any vice4 ,now it is evident we have no motive leading us to the performance of promises1 distinct from a sense of duty4 ,if we thought1 that promises had no moral obligation1 we never should feel any inclination to observe them4 ,this is not the case with the natural virtues4 ,though there was no obligation to relieve the miserable1 our humanity would lead us to it2 and when we omit that duty1 the immorality of the omission arises from its being a proof1 that we want the natural sentiments of humanity4 ,a father knows it to be his duty to take care of his children3 ,but he has also a natural inclination to it4 ,and if no human creature had that inclination1 no one could lie under any such obligation4 ,but as there is naturally no inclination to observe promises1 distinct from a sense of their obligation2 it follows1 that fidelity is no natural virtue1 and that promises have no force1 antecedent to human conventions4 ,if any one dissent from this1 he must give a regular proof of these two propositions1 viz4 ,,that ,,there ,,is ,a ,,peculiar ,,act ,,of ,,the ,,mind1 ,,annext ,,to ,,promises2 ,,and ,,that ,,consequent ,,to ,,this ,,act ,,of ,,the ,,mind1 ,,there ,,arises ,,an ,,inclination ,,to ,,perform1 ,,distinct ,,from ,a ,,sense ,,of ,,duty4 ,i presume1 that it is impossible to prove either of these two points2 and therefore ,i venture to conclude that promises are human inventions1 founded on the necessities and interests of society4 ,in order to discover these necessities and interests1 we must consider the same qualities of human nature1 which we have already found to give rise to the preceding laws of society4 ,men being naturally selfish1 or endowed only with a confined generosity1 they are not easily induced to perform any action for the interest of strangers1 except with a view to some reciprocal advantage1 which they had no hope of obtaining but by such a performance4 ,now as it frequently happens1 that these mutual performances cannot be finished at the same instant1 it is necessary1 that one party be contented to remain in uncertainty1 and depend upon the gratitude of the other for a return of kindness4 ,but so much corruption is there among men1 that1 generally speaking1 this becomes but a slender security2 and as the benefactor is here supposed to bestow his favours with a view to self-interest1 this both takes off from the obligation1 and sets an example to selfishness1 which is the true mother of ingratitude4 ,were we1 therefore1 to follow the natural course of our passions and inclinations1 we should perform but few actions for the advantage of others1 from distinterested views2 because we are naturally very limited in our kindness and affection3 ,and we should perform as few of that kind1 out of a regard to interest2 because we cannot depend upon their gratitude4 ,here then is the mutual commerce of good offices in a manner lost among mankind1 and every one reduced to his own skill and industry for his well-being and subsistence4 ,the invention of the law of nature1 concerning the stability of possession1 has already rendered men tolerable to each other2 that of the transference of property and possession by consent has begun to render them mutually advantageous3 ,but still these laws of nature1 however strictly observed1 are not sufficient to render them so serviceable to each other1 as by nature they are fitted to become4 ,though possession be stable1 men may often reap but small advantage from it1 while they are possessed of a greater quantity of any species of goods than they have occasion for1 and at the same time suffer by the want of others4 ,the transference of property1 which is the proper remedy for this inconvenience1 cannot remedy it entirely2 because it can only take place with regard to such objects as are present and individual1 but not to such as are absent or general4 ,one cannot transfer the property of a particular house1 twenty leagues distant2 because the consent cannot be attended with delivery1 which is a requisite circumstance4 ,neither can one transfer the property of ten bushels of corn1 or five hogsheads of wine1 by the mere expression and consent2 because these are only general terms1 and have no direct relation to any particular heap of corn1 or barrels of wine4 ,besides1 the commerce of mankind is not confined to the barter of commodities1 but may extend to services and actions1 which we may exchange to our mutual interest and advantage4 ,your corn is ripe to-day2 mine will be so tomorrow4 ,it is profitable for us both1 that ,i should labour with you to-day1 and that you should aid me to-morrow4 ,i have no kindness for you1 and know you have as little for me4 ,i will not1 therefore1 take any pains upon your account2 and should ,i labour with you upon my own account1 in expectation of a return1 ,i know ,i should be disappointed1 and that ,i should in vain depend upon your gratitude4 ,here then ,i leave you to labour alone3 ,you treat me in the same manner4 ,the seasons change2 and both of us lose our harvests for want of mutual confidence and security4 ,all this is the effect of the natural and inherent principles and passions of human nature2 and as these passions and principles are inalterable1 it may be thought1 that our conduct1 which depends on them1 must be so too1 and that it would be in vain1 either for moralists or politicians1 to tamper with us1 or attempt to change the usual course of our actions1 with a view to public interest4 ,and indeed1 did the success of their designs depend upon their success in correcting the selfishness and ingratitude of men1 they would never make any progress1 unless aided by omnipotence1 which is alone able to new-mould the human mind1 and change its character in such fundamental articles4 ,all they can pretend to1 is1 to give a new direction to those natural passions1 and teach us that we can better satisfy our appetites in an oblique and artificial manner1 than by their headlong and impetuous motion4 ,hence ,i learn to do a service to another1 without bearing him any real kindness2 because ,i forsee1 that he will return my service1 in expectation of another of the same kind1 and in order to maintain the same correspondence of good offices with me or with others4 ,and accordingly1 after ,i have served him1 and he is in possession of the advantage arising from my action1 he is induced to perform his part1 as foreseeing the consequences of his refusal4 ,but though this self-interested commerce of man begins to take place1 and to predominate in society1 it does not entirely abolish the more generous and noble intercourse of friendship and good offices4 ,i may still do services to such persons as ,i love1 and am more particularly acquainted with1 without any prospect of advantage2 and they may make me a return in the same manner1 without any view but that of recompensing my past services4 ,in order1 therefore1 to distinguish those two different sorts of commerce1 the interested and the disinterested1 there is a certain form of words invented for the former1 by which we bind ourselves to the performance of any action4 ,this form of words constitutes what we call a promise1 which is the sanction of the interested commerce of mankind4 ,when a man says he promises any thing1 he in effect expresses a resolution of performing it2 and along with that1 by making use of this form of words1 subjects himself to the penalty of never being trusted again in case of failure4 ,a resolution is the natural act of the mind1 which promises express3 ,but were there no more than a resolution in the case1 promises would only declare our former motives1 and would not create any new motive or obligation4 ,they are the conventions of men1 which create a new motive1 when experience has taught us1 that human affairs would be conducted much more for mutual advantage1 were there certain symbols or signs instituted1 by which we might give each1 other security of our conduct in any particular incident1 ,after these signs are instituted1 whoever uses them is immediately bound by his interest to execute his engagements1 and must never expect to be trusted any more1 if he refuse to perform what he promised4 ,nor is that knowledge1 which is requisite to make mankind sensible of this interest in the institution and observance of promises1 to be esteemed superior to the capacity of human nature1 however savage and uncultivated4 ,there needs but a very little practice of the world1 to make us perceive all these consequences and advantages4 ,the shortest experience of society discovers them to every mortal2 and when each individual perceives the same sense of interest in all his fellows1 he immediately performs his part of any contract1 as being assured1 that they will not be wanting in theirs4 ,all of them1 by concert1 enter into a scheme of actions1 calculated for common benefit1 and agree to be true to their word2 nor is there any thing requisite to form this concert or convention1 but that every one have a sense of interest in the faithful fulfilling of engagements1 and express that sense to other members of the society4 ,this immediately causes that interest to operate upon them2 and interest is the first obligation to the performance of promises4 ,afterwards a sentiment of morals concurs with interest1 and becomes a new obligation upon mankind4 ,this sentiment of morality1 in the performance of promises1 arises from the same principles as that in the abstinence from the property of others4 ,public interest1 education1 and the artifices of politicians1 have the same effect in both cases4 ,the difficulties1 that occur to us1 in supposing a moral obligation to attend promises1 we either surmount or elude4 ,for instance2 the expression of a resolution is not commonly supposed to be obligatory2 and we cannot readily conceive how the making use of a certain form of words should be able to cause any material difference4 ,here1 therefore1 we feign a new act of the mind1 which we call the willing an obligation2 and on this we suppose the morality to depend4 ,but we have proved already1 that there is no such act of the mind1 and consequently that promises impose no natural obligation4 ,to confirm this1 we may subjoin some other reflections concerning that will1 which is supposed to enter into a promise1 and to cause its obligation4 ,it is evident1 that the will alone is never supposed to cause the obligation1 but must be expressed by words or signs1 in order to impose a tye upon any man4 ,the expression being once brought in as subservient to the will1 soon becomes the principal part of the promise2 nor will a man be less bound by his word1 though he secretly give a different direction to his intention1 and with-hold himself both from a resolution1 and from willing an obligation4 ,but though the expression makes on most occasions the whole of the promise1 yet it does not always so2 and one1 who should make use of any expression1 of which he knows not the meaning1 and which he uses without any intention of binding himself1 would not certainly be bound by it4 ,nay1 though he knows its meaning1 yet if he uses it in jest only1 and with such signs as shew evidently he has no serious intention of binding himself1 he would not lie under any obligation of performance2 but it is necessary1 that the words be a perfect expression of the will1 without any contrary signs4 ,nay1 even this we must not carry so far as to imagine1 that one1 whom1 by our quickness of understanding1 we conjecture1 from certain signs1 to have an intention of deceiving us1 is not bound by his expression or verbal promise1 if we accept of it2 but must limit this conclusion to those cases1 where the signs are of a different kind from those of deceit4 ,all these contradictions are easily accounted for1 if the obligation of promises be merely a human invention for the convenience of society2 but will never be explained1 if it be something real and natural1 arising from any action of the mind or body4 ,i shall farther observe1 that since every new promise imposes a new obligation of morality on the person who promises1 and since this new obligation arises from his will2 it is one of the most mysterious and incomprehensible operations that can possibly be imagined1 and may even be compared to ,,transubstantiation1 or ,,holy ,,orders1#h where a certain form of words1 along with a certain intention1 changes entirely the nature of an external object1 and even of a human nature4 ,but though these mysteries be so far alike1 it is very remarkable1 that they differ widely in other particulars1 and that this difference may be regarded as a strong proof of the difference of their origins4 ,as the obligation of promises is an invention for the interest of society1 it is warped into as many different forms as that interest requires1 and even runs into direct contradictions1 rather than lose sight of its object4 ,but as those other monstrous doctines are mere priestly inventions1 and have no public interest in view1 they are less disturbed in their progress by new obstacles2 and it must be owned1 that1 after the first absurdity1 they follow more directly the current of reason and good sense4 ,theologians clearly perceived1 that the external form of words1 being mere sound1 require an intention to make them have any efficacy2 and that this intention being once considered as a requisite circumstance1 its absence must equally prevent the effect1 whether avowed or concealed1 whether sincere or deceitful4 ,accordingly they have commonly determined1 that the intention of the priest makes the sacrament1 and that when he secretly withdraws his intention1 he is highly criminal in himself2 but still destroys the baptism1 or communion1 or holy orders4 ,the terrible consequences of this doctrine were not able to hinder its taking place2 as the inconvenience of a similar doctrine1 with regard to promises1 have prevented that doctrine from establishing itself4 ,men are always more concerned about the present life than the future2 and are apt to think the smallest evil1 which regards the former1 more important than the greatest1 which regards the latter4 #h ,i mean so far1 as holy orders are suppos'd to produce the indelible character4 ,in other respects they are only a legal qualification4 ,we may draw the same conclusion1 concerning the origin of promises1 from the force1 which is supposed to invalidate all contracts1 and to free us from their obligation4 ,such a principle is a proof1 that promises have no natural obligation1 and are mere artificial contrivances for the convenience and advantage of society4 ,if we consider aright of the matter1 force is not essentially different from any other motive of hope or fear1 which may induce us to engage our word1 and lay ourselves under any obligation4 ,a man1 dangerously wounded1 who promises a competent sum to a surgeon to cure him1 would certainly be bound to performance2 though the case be not so much different from that of one1 who promises a sum to a robber1 as to produce so great a difference in our sentiments of morality1 if these sentiments were not built entirely on public interest and convenience4 ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,some ,,farther ,,reflections ,,concerning ,,justice ,,and ,,injustice ,we have now run over the three fundamental laws of nature1 that of the stability of possession1 of its transference by consent1 and of the performance of promises4 ,it is on the strict observance of those three laws1 that the peace and security of human society entirely depend2 nor is there any possibility of establishing a good correspondence among men1 where these are neglected4 ,society is absolutely necessary for the well-being of men2 and these are as necessary to the support of society4 ,whatever restraint they may impose on the passions of men1 they are the real offspring of those passions1 and are only a more artful and more refined way of satisfying them4 ,nothing is more vigilant and inventive than our passions2 and nothing is more obvious1 than the convention for the observance of these rules4 ,nature has1 therefore1 trusted this affair entirely to the conduct of men1 and has not placed in the mind any peculiar original principles1 to determine us to a set of actions1 into which the other principles of our frame and constitution were sufficient to lead us4 ,and to convince us the more fully of this truth1 we may here stop a moment1 and from a review of the preceding reasonings may draw some new arguments1 to prove that those laws1 however necessary1 are entirely artificial1 and of human invention2 and consequently that justice is an artificial1 and not a natural virtue4 7#a7 ,the first argument ,i shall make use of is derived from the vulgar definition of justice4 ,justice is commonly defined to be a constant and perpetual will of giving every one his due4 ,in this definition it is supposed1 that there are such things as right and property1 independent of justice1 and antecedent to it2 and that they would have subsisted1 though men had never dreamt of practising such a virtue4 ,i have already observed1 in a cursory manner1 the fallacy of this opinion1 and shall here continue to open up a little more distinctly my sentiments on that subject4 ,i shall begin with observing1 that this quality1 which we shall call property1 is like many of the imaginary qualities of the peripatetic philosophy1 and vanishes upon a more accurate inspection into the subject1 when considered a-part from our moral sentiments4 ,it is evident property does not consist in any of the sensible qualities of the object4 ,for these may continue invariably the same1 while the property changes4 ,property1 therefore1 must consist in some relation of the object4 ,but it is not in its relation with regard to other external and inanimate objects4 ,for these may also continue invariably the same1 while the property changes4 ,this quality1 therefore1 consists in the relations of objects to intelligent and rational beings4 ,but it is not the external and corporeal relation1 which forms the essence of property4 ,for that relation may be the same betwixt inanimate objects1 or with regard to brute creatures2 though in those cases it forms no property4 ,it is1 therefore1 in some internal relation1 that the property consists2 that is1 in some influence1 which the external relations of the object have on the mind and actions4 ,thus the external relation1 which we call occupation or first possession1 is not of itself imagined to be the property of the object1 but only to cause its property4 ,now it is evident1 this external relation causes nothing in external objects1 and has only an influence on the mind1 by giving us a sense of duty in abstaining from that object1 and in restoring it to the first possessor4 ,these actions are properly what we call justice2 and consequently it is on that virtue that the nature of property depends1 and not the virtue on the property4 ,if any one1 therefore1 would assert1 that justice is a natural virtue1 and injustice a natural vice1 he must assert1 that abstracting from the nations of property1 and right and obligation1 a certain conduct and train of actions1 in certain external relations of objects1 has naturally a moral beauty or deformity1 and causes an original pleasure or uneasiness4 ,thus the restoring a man's goods to him is considered as virtuous1 not because nature has annexed a certain sentiment of pleasure to such a conduct1 with regard to the property of others1 but because she has annexed that sentiment to such a conduct1 with regard to those external objects1 of which others have had the first or long possession1 or which they have received by the consent of those1 who have had first or long possession4 ,if nature has given us no such sentiment1 there is not1 naturally1 nor antecedent to human conventions1 any such thing as property4 ,now1 though it seems sufficiently evident1 in this dry and accurate consideration of the present subject1 that nature has annexed no pleasure or sentiment of approbation to such a conduct2 yet that ,i may leave as little room for doubt as possible1 ,i shall subjoin a few more arguments to confirm my opinion4 ,first1 ,if nature had given us a pleasure of this kind1 it would have been as evident and discernible as on every other occasion2 nor should we have found any difficulty to perceive1 that the consideration of such actions1 in such a situation1 gives a certain pleasure and sentiment of approbation4 ,we should not have been obliged to have recourse to notions of property in the definition of justice1 and at the same time make use of the notions of justice in the definition of property4 ,this deceitful method of reasoning is a plain proof1 that there are contained in the subject some obscurities and difficulties1 which we are not able to surmount1 and which we desire to evade by this artifice4 ,secondly1 ,those rules1 by which properties1 rights1 and obligations are determined1 have in them no marks of a natural origin but many of artifice and contrivance4 ,they are too numerous to have proceeded from nature3 ,they are changeable by human laws3 ,and have all of them a direct and evident tendency to public good1 and the support1 of civil society4 ,this last circumstance is remarkable upon two accounts4 ,first1 because1 though the cause of the establishment of these laws had been a regard for the public good1 as much as the public good is their natural tendency1 they would still have been artificial1 as being purposely contrived and directed to a certain end4 ,secondly1 because1 if men had been endowed with such a strong regard for public good1 they would never have restrained themselves by these rules2 so that the laws of justice arise from natural principles in a manner still more oblique and artificial4 ,it is self-love which is their real origin2 and as the self-love of one person is naturally contrary to that of another1 these several interested passions are obliged to adjust themselves after such a manner as to concur in some system of conduct and behaviour4 ,this system1 therefore1 comprehending the interest of each individual1 is of course advantageous to the public2 though it be not intended for that purpose by die inventors4 7#b7 ,in the second place we may observe1 that all kinds of vice and virtue run insensibly into each other1 and may approach by such imperceptible degrees as will make it very difficult1 if not absolutely impossible1 to determine when the one ends1 and the other begins2 and from this observation we may derive a new argument for the foregoing principle4 ,for whatever may be the case1 with regard to all kinds of vice and virtue1 it is certain1 that rights1 and obligations1 and property1 admit of no such insensible gradation1 but that a man either has a full and perfect property1 or none at all2 and is either entirely obliged to perform any action1 or lies under no manner of obligation4 ,however civil laws may talk of a perfect dominion1 and of an imperfect1 it is easy to observe1 that this arises from a fiction1 which has no foundation in reason1 and can never enter into our notions of natural justice and equity4 ,a man that hires a horse1 though but for a day1 has as full a right to make use of it for that time1 as he whom we call its proprietor has to make use of it any other day2 and it was evident1 that however the use may be bounded in time or degree1 the right itself is not susceptible of any such gradation1 but is absolute and entire1 so far as it extends4 ,accordingly we may observe1 that this right both arises and perishes in an instant2 and that a man entirely acquires the property of any object by occupation1 or the consent of the proprietor2 and loses it by his own consent2 without any of that insensible gradation1 which is remarkable in other qualities and relations1 ,since1 therefore1 this is die case with regard to property1 and rights1 and obligations1 ,i ask1 how it stands with regard to justice and injustice8 ,after whatever manner you answer this question1 you run into inextricable difficulties4 ,if you reply1 that justice and injustice admit of degree1 and run insensibly into each other1 you expressly contradict the foregoing position1 that obligation and property are not susceptible of such a gradation4 ,these depend entirely upon justice and injustice1 and follow them in all their variations4 ,where the justice is entire1 the property is also entire3 ,where the justice is imperfect1 the property must also be imperfect ,and vice versa1 if the property admit of no such variations1 they must also be incompatible with justice4 ,if you assent1 therefore1 to this last proposition1 and assert1 that justice and injustice are not susceptible of degrees1 you in effect assert1 that they are not naturally either vicious or virtuous2 since vice and virtue1 moral good and evil1 and indeed all natural qualities1 run insensibly into each other1 and are1 on many occasions1 undistinguishable4 ,and here it may be worth while to observe1 that though abstract reasoning1 and the general maxims of philosophy and law establish this position1 that property1 and right1 and obligation admit not of degrees1 yet in our common and negligent way of thinking1 we find great difficulty to entertain that opinion1 and do even secretly embrace the contrary principle4 ,an object must either be in the possession of one person or another4 ,an action must either be performed or not4 ,the necessity there is of choosing one side in these dilemmas1 and the impossibility there often is of finding any just medium1 oblige us1 when we reflect on the matter1 to acknowledge1 that all property and obligations are entire4 ,but on the other hand1 when we consider the origin of property and obligation1 and find that they depend on public utility1 and sometimes on the propensities of the imagination1 which are seldom entire on any side2 we are naturally inclined to imagine1 that these moral relations admit of an insensible gradation4 ,hence it is1 that in references1 where the consent of the parties leave the referees entire masters of the subject1 they commonly discover so much equity and justice on both sides1 as induces them to strike a medium1 and divide the difference betwixt the parties4 ,civil judges1 who have not this liberty1 but are obliged to give a decisive sentence on some one side1 are often at a loss how to determine1 and are necessitated to proceed on the most frivolous reasons in the world4 ,half rights and obligations1 which seem so natural in common life1 are perfect absurdities in their tribunal2 for which reason they are often obliged to take half arguments for whole ones1 in order to terminate the affair one way or other4 7#c7 ,the third argument of this kind ,i shall make use of may be explained thus4 ,if we consider the ordinary course of human actions1 we shall find1 that the mind restrains not itself by any general and universal rules2 but acts on most occasions as it is determined by its present motives and inclination4 ,as each action is a particular individual event1 it must proceed from particular principles1 and from our immediate situation within ourselves1 and with respect to the rest of the universe4 ,if on some occasions we extend our motives beyond those very circumstances1 which gave rise to them1 and form something like general rules for our conduct1 it is easy to observe1 that these rules are not perfectly inflexible1 but allow of many exceptions4 ,since1 therefore1 this is the ordinary course of human actions1 we may conclude1 that the laws of justice1 being universal and perfectly inflexible1 can never be derived from nature1 nor be the immediate offspring of any natural motive or inclination4 ,no action can be either morally good or evil1 unless there be some natural passion or motive to impel us to it1 or deter us from it2 and it is evident1 that die morality must be susceptible of all the same variations1 which are natural to the passion4 ,here are two persons1 who dispute for an estate2 of whom one is rich1 a fool1 and a batchelor2 the other poor1 a man of sense1 and has a numerous family3 ,the first is my enemy2 the second my friend4 ,whether ,i be actuated in this affair by a view to public or private interest1 by friendship or enmity1 ,i must be induced to do my utmost to procure the estate to the latter4 ,nor would any consideration of the right and property of the persons be able to restrain me1 were ,i actuated only by natural motives1 without any combination or convention with others4 ,for as all property depends on morality2 and as all morality depends on the ordinary course of our passions and actions2 and as these again are only directed by particular motives2 it is evident1 such a partial conduct must be suitable to the strictest morality1 and could never be a violation of property4 ,were men1 therefore1 to take the liberty of acting with regard to the laws of society1 as they do in every other affair1 they would conduct themselves1 on most occasions1 by particular judgments1 and would take into consideration the characters and circumstances of the persons1 as well as the general nature of the question4 ,but it is easy to observe1 that this would produce an infinite confusion in human society1 and that the avidity and partiality of men would quickly bring disorder into the world1 if not restrained by some general and inflexible principles4 ,twas1 therefore1 with a view to this inconvenience1 that men have established those principles1 and have agreed to restrain themselves by general rules1 which are unchangeable by spite and favour1 and by particular views of private or public interest4 ,these rules1 then1 are artificially invented for a certain purpose1 and are contrary to the common principles of human nature1 which accommodate themselves to circumstances1 and have no stated invariable method of operation4 ,nor do ,i perceive how ,i can easily be mistaken in this matter4 ,i see evidently1 that when any man imposes on himself general inflexible rules in his conduct with others1 he considers certain objects as their property1 which he supposes to be sacred and inviolable4 ,but no proposition can be more evident1 than that property is perfectly unintelligible without first supposing justice and injustice2 and that these virtues and vices are as unintelligible1 unless we have motives1 independent of the morality1 to impel us to just actions1 and deter us from unjust ones4 ,let those motives1 therefore1 be what they will1 they must accommodate themselves to circumstances1 and must admit of all the variations1 which human affairs1 in their incessant revolutions1 are susceptible of4 ,they are consequently a very improper foundation for such rigid inflexible rules as the laws of nature2 and it is evident these laws can only be derived from human conventions1 when men have perceived the disorders that result from following their natural and variable principles4 ,upon the whole1 then1 we are to consider this distinction betwixt justice and injustice1 as having two different foundations1 viz1 that of interest1 when men observe1 that it is impossible to live in society without restraining themselves by certain rules2 and that of morality1 when this interest is once observed and men receive a pleasure from the view of such actions as tend to the peace of society1 and an uneasiness from such as are contrary to it4 ,it is the voluntary convention and artifice of men1 which makes the first interest take place2 and therefore those laws of justice are so far to be considered as artificial4 ,after that interest is once established and acknowledged1 the sense of morality in the observance of these rules follows naturally1 and of itself2 though it is certain1 that it is also augmented by a new artifice1 and that the public instructions of politicians1 and the private education of parents1 contribute to the giving us a sense of honour and duty in the strict regulation of our actions with regard to the properties of others4 ,,sect4 ,,vii ,,of ,,the ,,origin ,,of ,,government ,nothing is more certain1 than that men are1 in a great measure1 governed by interest1 and that even when they extend their concern beyond themselves1 it is not to any great distance2 nor is it usual for them1 in common life1 to look farther than their nearest friends and acquaintance4 ,it is no less certain1 that it is impossible for men to consult1 their interest in so effectual a manner1 as by an universal and inflexible observance of the rules of justice1 by which alone they can preserve society1 and keep themselves from falling into that wretched and savage condition1 which is commonly represented as the state of nature4 ,and as this interest1 which all men have in the upholding of society1 and the observation of the rules of justice1 is great1 so is it palpable and evident1 even to the most rude and uncultivated of human race2 and it is almost impossible for any one1 who has had experience of society1 to be mistaken in this particular4 ,since1 therefore1 men are so sincerely attached to their interest1 and their interest is so much concerned in the observance of justice1 and this interest is so certain and avowed2 it may be asked1 how any disorder can ever arise in society1 and what principle there is in human nature so powerful as to overcome so strong a passion1 or so violent as to obscure so clear a knowledge8 ,it has been observed1 in treating of the passions1 that men are mightily governed by the imagination1 and proportion their affections more to the light1 under which any object appears to them1 than to its real and intrinsic value4 ,what strikes upon them with a strong and lively idea commonly prevails above what lies in a more obscure light2 and it must be a great superiority of value1 that is able to compensate this advantage4 ,now as every thing1 that is contiguous to us1 either in space or time1 strikes upon us with such an idea1 it has a proportional effect on the will and passions1 and commonly operates with more force than any object1 that lies in a more distant and obscure light4 ,though we may be fully convinced1 that the latter object excels the former1 we are not able to regulate our actions by this judgment2 but yield to the sollicitations of our passions1 which always plead in favour of whatever is near and contiguous4 ,this is the reason why men so often act in contradiction to their known interest2 and in particular why they prefer any trivial advantage1 that is present1 to the maintenance of order in society1 which so much depends on the observance of justice4 ,the consequences of every breach of equity seem to lie very remote1 and are not able to counter-ballance any immediate advantage1 that may be reaped from it4 ,they are1 however1 never the less real for being remote2 and as all men are1 in some degree1 subject to the same weakness1 it necessarily happens1 that the violations of equity must become very frequent in society1 and the commerce of men1 by that means1 be rendered very dangerous and uncertain4 ,you have the same propension1 that ,i have1 in favour of what is contiguous above what is remote4 ,you are1 therefore1 naturally carried to commit acts of injustice as well as me4 ,your example both pushes me forward in this way by imitation1 and also affords me a new reason for any breach of equity1 by shewing me1 that ,i should be the cully of my integrity1 if ,i alone should impose on myself a severe restraint amidst the licentiousness of others4 ,this quality1 therefore1 of human nature1 not only is very dangerous to society1 but also seems1 on a cursory view1 to be incapable of any remedy4 ,the remedy can only come from the consent of men2 and if men be incapable of themselves to prefer remote to contiguous1 they will never consent to any thing1 which would oblige them to such a choice1 and contradict1 in so sensible a manner1 their natural principles and propensities4 ,whoever chuses the means1 chuses also the end2 and if it be impossible for us to prefer what is remote1 it is equally impossible for us to submit to any necessity1 which would oblige us to such a method of acting4 ,but here it is observable1 that this infirmity of human nature becomes a remedy to itself1 and that we provide against our negligence about remote objects1 merely because we are naturally inclined to that negligence4 ,when we consider any objects at a distance1 all their minute distinctions vanish1 and we always give the preference to whatever is in itself preferable1 without considering its situation and circumstances4 ,this gives rise to what in an improper sense we call reason1 which is a principle1 that is often contradictory to those propensities that display themselves upon the approach of the object4 ,in reflecting on any action1 which ,i am to perform a twelve-month hence1 ,i always resolve to prefer the greater good1 whether at that time it will be more contiguous or remote2 nor does any difference in that particular make a difference in my present intentions and resolutions4 ,my distance from the final determination makes all those minute differences vanish1 nor am ,i affected by any thing1 but the general and more discernible qualities of good and evil4 ,but on my nearer approach1 those circumstances1 which ,i at first over-looked1 begin to appear1 and have an influence on my conduct and affections4 ,a new inclination to the present good springs up1 and makes it difficult for me to adhere inflexibly to my first purpose and resolution4 ,this natural infirmity ,i may very much regret1 and ,i may endeavour1 by all possible means1 to free my self from it4 ,i may have recourse to study and reflection within myself2 to the advice of friends2 to frequent meditation1 and repeated resolution3 ,and having experienced how ineffectual all these are1 ,i may embrace with pleasure any other expedient1 by which ,i may impose a restraint upon myself1 and guard against this weakness4 ,the only difficulty1 therefore1 is to find out this expedient1 by which men cure their natural weakness1 and lay themselves under the necessity of observing the laws of justice and equity1 notwithstanding their violent propension to prefer contiguous to remote4 ,it is evident such a remedy can never be effectual without correcting this propensity2 and as it is impossible to change or correct any thing material in our nature1 the utmost we can do is to change our circumstances and situation1 and render the observance of the laws of justice our nearest interest1 and their violation our most remote4 ,but this being impracticable with respect to all mankind1 it can only take place with respect to a few1 whom we thus immediately interest in the execution of justice4 ,there are the persons1 whom we call civil magistrates1 kings and their ministers1 our governors and rulers1 who being indifferent persons to the greatest part of the state1 have no interest1 or but a remote one1 in any act of injustice2 and being satisfied with their present condition1 and with their part in society1 have an immediate interest in every execution of justice1 which is so necessary to the upholding of society4 ,here then is the origin of civil government and society4 ,men are not able radically to cure1 either in themselves or others1 that narrowness of soul1 which makes them prefer the present to the remote4 ,they cannot change their natures4 ,all they can do is to change their situation1 and render the observance of justice the immediate interest of some particular persons1 and its violation their more remote4 ,these persons1 then1 are not only induced to observe those rules in their own conduct1 but also to constrain others to a like regularity1 and inforce the dictates of equity through the whole society4 ,and if it be necessary1 they may also interest others more immediately in the execution of justice1 and create a number of officers1 civil and military1 to assist them in their government4 ,but this execution of justice1 though the principal1 is not the only advantage of government4 ,as violent passion hinder men from seeing distinctly the interest they have in an equitable behaviour towards others2 so it hinders them from seeing that equity itself1 and gives them a remarkable partiality in their own favours4 ,this inconvenience is corrected in the same manner as that above-mentioned4 ,the same persons1 who execute the laws of justice1 will also decide all controversies concerning them2 and being indifferent to the greatest part of the society1 will decide them more equitably than every one would in his own case4 ,by means of these two advantages1 in the execution and decision of justice1 men acquire a security against each others weakness and passion1 as well as against their own1 and under the shelter of their governors1 begin to taste at ease the sweets of society and mutual assistance4 ,but government extends farther its beneficial influence2 and not contented to protect men in those conventions they make for their mutual interest1 it often obliges them to make such conventions1 and forces them to seek their own advantage1 by a concurrence in some common end or purpose4 ,there is no quality in human nature1 which causes more fatal errors in our conduct1 than that which leads us to prefer whatever is present to the distant and remote1 and makes us desire objects more according to their situation than their intrinsic value4 ,two neighbours may agree to drain a meadow1 which they possess in common2 because it is easy for them to know each others mind2 and each must perceive1 that the immediate consequence of his failing in his part1 is1 the abandoning the whole project4 ,but it is very difficult1 and indeed impossible1 that a thousand persons should agree in any such action2 it being difficult for them to concert so complicated a design1 and still more difficult for them to execute it2 while each seeks a pretext to free himself of the trouble and expence1 and would lay the whole burden on others4 ,political society easily remedies both these inconveniences4 ,magistrates find an immediate interest in the interest of any considerable part of their subjects4 ,they need consult no body but themselves to form any scheme for the promoting of that interest4 ,and as the failure of any one piece in the execution is connected1 though not immediately1 with the failure of the whole1 they prevent that failure1 because they find no interest in it1 either immediate or remote4 ,thus bridges are built2 harbours opened2 ramparts raised2 canals formed2 fleets equiped2 and armies disciplined every where1 by the care of government1 which1 though composed of men subject to all human infirmities1 becomes1 by one of the finest and most subtle inventions imaginable1 a composition1 which is1 in some measure1 exempted from all these infirmities4 ,,sect4 ,,viii ,,of ,,the ,,source ,,of ,,allegiance ,though government be an invention very advantageous1 and even in some circumstances absolutely necessary to mankind2 it is not necessary in all circumstances1 nor is it impossible for men to preserve society for some time1 without having recourse to such an invention4 ,men1 it is true1 are always much inclined to prefer present interest to distant and remote2 nor is it easy for them to resist the temptation of any advantage1 that they may immediately enjoy1 in apprehension of an evil that lies at a distance from them3 ,but still this weakness is less conspicuous where the possessions1 and the pleasures of life are few1 and of little value1 as they always are in the infancy of society4 ,an ,indian is but little tempted to dispossess another of his hut1 or to steal his bow1 as being already provided of the same advantages2 and as to any superior fortune1 which may attend one above another in hunting and fishing1 it is only casual and temporary1 and will have but small tendency to disturb society4 ,and so far am ,i from thinking with some philosophers1 that men are utterly incapable of society without government1 that ,i assert the first rudiments of government to arise from quarrels1 not among men of the same society1 but among those of different societies4 ,a less degree of riches will suffice to this latter effect1 than is requisite for the former4 ,men fear nothing from public war and violence but the resistance they meet with1 which1 because they share it in common1 seems less terrible2 and because it comes from strangers1 seems less pernicious in its consequences1 than when they are exposed singly against one whose commerce is advantageous to them1 and without whose society it is impossible they can subsist4 ,now foreign war to a society without government necessarily produces civil war4 ,throw any considerable goods among men1 they instantly fall a quarrelling1 while each strives to get possession of what pleases him1 without regard to the consequences4 ,in a foreign war the most considerable of all goods1 life and limbs1 are at stake2 and as every one shuns dangerous ports1 seizes the best arms1 seeks excuse for the slightest wounds1 the laws1 which may be well enough observed while men were calm1 can now no longer take place1 when they are in such commotion4 ,this we find verified in the ,american tribes1 where men live in concord and amity among themselves without any established government and never pay submission to any of their fellows1 except in time of war1 when their captain enjoys a shadow of authority1 which he loses after their return from the field1 and the establishment of peace with the neighbouring tribes4 ,this authority1 however1 instructs them in the advantages of government1 and teaches them to have recourse to it1 when either by the pillage of war1 by commerce1 or by any fortuitous inventions1 their riches and possessions have become so considerable as to make them forget1 on every emergence1 the interest they have in the preservation of peace and justice4 ,hence we may give a plausible reason1 among others1 why all governments are at first monarchical1 without any mixture and variety2 and why republics arise only from the abuses of monarchy and despotic power4 ,camps are the true mothers of cities2 and as war cannot be administered1 by reason of the suddenness of every exigency1 without some authority in a single person1 the same kind of authority naturally takes place in that civil government1 which succeeds the military4 ,and this reason ,i take to be more natural1 than the common one derived from patriarchal government1 or the authority of a father1 which is said first to take place in one family1 and to accustom the members of it to the government of a single person4 ,the state of society without government is one of the most natural states of men1 and must submit with the conjunction of many families1 and long after the first generation4 ,nothing but an encrease of riches and possessions could oblige men to quit it2 and so barbarous and uninstructed are all societies on their first formation1 that many years must elapse before these can encrease to such a degree1 as to disturb men in the enjoyment of peace and concord4 ,but though it be possible for men to maintain a small uncultivated society without government1 it is impossible they should maintain a society of any kind without justice1 and the observance of those three fundamental laws concerning the stability of possession1 its translation by consent1 and the performance of promises4 ,these are1 therefore1 antecedent to government1 and are supposed to impose an obligation before the duty of allegiance to civil magistrates has once been thought of4 ,nay1 ,i shall go farther1 and assert1 that government1 upon its first establishment1 would naturally be supposed4 to derive its obligation from those laws of nature1 and1 in particular1 from that concerning the performance of promises4 ,when men have once perceived the necessity of government to maintain peace1 and execute justice1 they would naturally assemble together1 would chuse magistrates1 determine power1 and promise them obedience4 ,as a promise is supposed to be a bond or security already in use1 and attended with a moral obligation1 it is to be considered as the original sanction of government1 and as the source of the first obligation to obedience4 ,this reasoning appears so natural1 that it has become the foundation of our fashionable system of politics1 and is in a manner the creed of a party amongst us1 who pride themselves1 with reason1 on the soundness of their philosophy1 and their liberty of thought4 ,all men1 say they1 are born free and equal3 ,government and superiority can only be established by consent3 ,the consent of men1 in establishing government1 imposes on them a new obligation1 unknown to the laws of nature4 ,men1 therefore1 are bound to obey their magistrates1 only because they promise it2 and if they had not given their word1 either expressly or tacitly1 to preserve allegiance1 it would never have become a part of their moral duty4 ,this conclusion1 however1 when carried so far as to comprehend government in all its ages and situations1 is entirely erroneous2 and ,i maintain1 that though the duty of allegiance be at first grafted on the obligation of promises1 and be for some time supported by that obligation1 yet it quickly takes root of itself1 and has an original obligation and authority1 independent of all contracts4 ,this is a principle of moment1 which we must examine with care and attention1 before we proceed any farther4 ,it is reasonable for those philosophers1 who assert justice to be a natural virtue1 and antecedent to human conventions1 to resolve all civil allegiance into the obligation of a promise1 and assert that it is our own consent alone1 which binds us to any submission to magistracy4 ,for as all government is plainly an invention of men1 and the origin of most governments is known in history1 it is necessary to mount higher1 in order to find the source of our political duties1 if we would assert them to have any natural obligation of morality4 ,these philosophers1 therefore1 quickly observe1 that society is as antient as the human species1 and those three fundamental laws of nature as antient as society3 ,so that taking advantage of the antiquity1 and obscure origin of these laws1 they first deny them to be artificial and voluntary inventions of men1 and then seek to ingraft on them those other duties1 which are more plainly artificial4 ,but being once undeceived in this particular1 and having found that natural1 as well as civil justice1 derives its origin from human conventions1 we shall quickly perceive1 how fruitless it is to resolve the one into the other1 and seek1 in the laws of nature1 a stronger foundation for our political duties than interest1 and human conventions2 while these laws themselves are built on the very same foundation4 ,on which ever side we turn this subject1 we shall find1 that these two kinds of duty are exactly on the same footing1 and have the same source both of their first invention and moral obligation4 ,they are contrived to remedy like inconveniences1 and acquire their moral sanction in the same manner1 from their remedying those inconveniences4 ,these are two points1 which we shall endeavour to prove as distinctly as possible4 ,we have already shewn1 that men invented the three fundamental laws of nature1 when they observed the necessity of society to their mutual subsistance1 and found1 that it was impossible to maintain any correspondence together1 without some restraint on their natural appetites4 ,the same self-love1 therefore1 which renders men so incommodious to each other1 taking a new and more convenient direction1 produces the rules of justice1 and is the first motive of their observance4 ,but when men have observed1 that though the rules of justice be sufficient to maintain any society1 yet it is impossible for them1 of themselves1 to observe those rules1 in large and polished societies2 they establish government1 as a new invention to attain their ends1 and preserve the old1 or procure new advantages1 by a more strict execution of justice4 ,so far1 therefore1 our civil duties are connected with our natural1 that the former are invented chiefly for the sake of the latter2 and that the principal object of government is to constrain men to observe the laws of nature4 ,in this respect1 however1 that law of nature1 concerning the performance of promises1 is only comprized along with the rest2 and its exact observance is to be considered as an effect of the institution of government1 and not the obedience to government as an effect of the obligation of a promise4 ,though the object of our civil duties be the enforcing of our natural1 yet the first#i motive of the invention1 as well as performance of both1 is nothing but self-interest3 and since there is a separate interest in the obedience to government1 from that in the performance of promises1 we must also allow of a separate obligation4 ,to obey the civil magistrate is requisite to preserve order and concord in society4 ,to perform promises is requisite to beget mutual trust and confidence in the common offices of life4 ,the ends1 as well as the means1 are perfectly distinct2 nor is the one subordinate to the other4 #i ,first in time1 not in dignity or force4 ,to make this more evident1 let us consider1 that men will often bind themselves by promises to the performance of what it would have been their interest to perform1 independent of these promises2 as when they would give others a fuller security1 by super-adding a new obligation of interest to that which they formerly lay under4 ,the interest in the performance of promises1 besides its moral obligation1 is general1 avowed1 and of the last consequence in life4 ,other interests may be more particular and doubtful2 and we are apt to entertain a greater suspicion1 that men may indulge their humour1 or passion1 in acting contrary to them4 ,here1 therefore1 promises come naturally in play1 and are often required for fuller satisfaction and security4 ,but supposing those other interests to be as general and avowed as the interest in the performance of a promise1 they will be regarded as on the same footing1 and men will begin to repose the same confidence in them4 ,now this is exactly the case with regard to our civil duties1 or obedience to the magistrate2 without which no government could subsist1 nor any peace or order be maintained in large societies1 where there are so many possessions on the one hand1 and so many wants1 real or imaginary1 on the other4 ,our civil duties1 therefore1 must soon detach themselves from our promises1 and acquire a separate force and influence4 ,the interest in both is of the very same kind3 ,it is general1 avowed1 and prevails in all times and places4 ,there is1 then1 no pretext of reason for founding the one upon the other2 while each of them has a foundation peculiar to itself4 ,we might as well resolve the obligation to abstain from the possessions of others1 into the obligation of a promise1 as that of allegiance4 ,the interests are not more distinct in the one case than the other4 ,a regard to property is not more necessary to natural society1 than obedience is to civil society or government2 nor is the former society more necessary to the being of mankind1 than the latter to their well-being and happiness4 ,in short1 if the performance of promises be advantageous1 so is obedience to government3 ,if the former interest be general1 so is the latter3 ,if the one interest be obvious and avowed1 so is the other4 ,and as these two rules are founded on like obligations of interest1 each of them must have a peculiar authority1 independent of the other4 ,but it is not only the natural obligations of interest1 which are distinct in promises and allegiance2 but also the moral obligations of honour and conscience3 ,nor does the merit or demerit of the one depend in the least upon that of the other4 ,and indeed1 if we consider the close connexion there is betwixt the natural and moral obligations1 we shall find this conclusion to be entirely unavoidable4 ,our interest is always engaged on the side of obedience to magistracy2 and there is nothing but a great present advantage1 that can lead us to rebellion1 by making us over-look the remote interest1 which we have in the preserving of peace and order in society4 ,but though a present interest may thus blind us with regard to our own actions1 it takes not place with regard to those of others2 nor hinders them from appearing in their true colours1 as highly prejudicial to public interest1 and to our own in particular4 ,this naturally gives us an uneasiness1 in considering such seditious and disloyal actions1 and makes us attach to them the idea of vice and moral deformity4 ,it is the same principle1 which causes us to disapprove of all kinds of private injustice1 and in particular of the breach of promises4 ,we blame all treachery and breach of faith2 because we consider1 that the freedom and extent of human commerce depend entirely on a fidelity with regard to promises4 ,we blame all disloyalty to magistrates2 because we perceive1 that the execution of justice1 in the stability of possession1 its translation by consent1 and the performance of promises1 is impossible1 without submission to government4 ,as there are here two interests entirely distinct from each other1 they must give rise to two moral obligations1 equally separate and independent4 ,though there was no such thing as a promise in the world1 government would still be necessary in all large and civilized societies2 and if promises had only their own proper obligation1 without the separate sanction of government1 they would have but little efficacy in such societies4 ,this separates the boundaries of our public and private duties1 and shews that the latter are more dependant on the former1 than the former on the latter4 ,education1 and the artifice of politicians1 concur to bestow a farther morality on loyalty1 and to brand all rebellion with a greater degree of guilt and infamy4 ,nor is it a wonder1 that politicians should be very industrious in inculcating such notions1 where their interest is so particularly concerned4 ,lest those arguments should not appear entirely conclusive 7as ,i think they are7 ,i shall have recourse to authority1 and shall prove1 from the universal consent of mankind1 that the obligation of submission to government is not derived from any promise of the subjects4 ,nor need any one wonder1 that though ,i have all along endeavoured to establish my system on pure reason1 and have scarce ever cited the judgment even of philosophers or historians on any article1 ,i should now appeal to popular authority1 and oppose the sentiments of the rabble to any philosophical reasoning4 ,for it must be observed1 that the opinions of men1 in this case1 carry with them a peculiar authority1 and are1 in a great measure1 infallible4 ,the distinction of moral good and evil is founded on the pleasure or pain1 which results from the view of any sentiment1 or character2 and as that pleasure or pain cannot be unknown to the person who feels it1 it follows1#aj that there is just so much vice or virtue in any character1 as every one places in it1 and that it is impossible in this particular we can ever be mistaken4 ,and though our judgments concerning the origin of any vice or virtue1 be not so certain as those concerning their degrees2 yet1 since the question in this case regards not any philosophical origin of an obligation1 but a plain matter of fact1 it is not easily conceived how we can fall into an error4 ,a man1 who acknowledges himself to be bound to another1 for a certain sum1 must certainly know whether it be by his own bond1 or that of his father2 whether it be of his mere good-will1 or for money lent him2 and under what conditions1 and for what purposes he has bound himself4 ,in like manner1 it being certain1 that there is a moral obligation to submit to government1 because every one thinks so2 it must be as certain1 that this obligation arises not from a promise2 since no one1 whose judgment has not been led astray by too strict adherence to a system of philosophy1 has ever yet dreamt of ascribing it to that origin4 ,neither magistrates nor subjects have formed this idea of our civil duties4 #aj ,this proposition must hold strictly true1 with regard to every quality1 that is determin'd merely by sentiment4 ,in what sense we can talk either of a right or a wrong taste in morals1 eloquence1 or beauty1 shall be considerd afterwards4 ,in the mean time1 it may be observ'd1 that there is such an uniformity in the ,,general sentiments of mankind1 as to render such questions of but small importance4 ,we find1 that magistrates are so far from deriving their authority1 and the obligation to obedience in their subjects1 from the foundation of a promise or original contract1 that they conceal1 as far as possible1 from their people1 especially from the vulgar1 that they have their origin from thence4 ,were this the sanction of government1 our rulers would never receive it tacitly1 which is the utmost that can be pretended2 since what is given tacitly and insensibly can never have such influence on mankind1 as what is performed expressly and openly4 ,a tacit promise is1 where the will is signified by other more diffuse signs than those of speech2 but a will there must certainly be in the case1 and that can never escape the person's notice1 who exerted it1 however silent or tacit4 ,but were you to ask the far greatest part of the nation1 whether they had ever consented to the authority of their rulers1 or promised to obey them1 they would be inclined to think very strangely of you2 and would certainly reply1 that the affair depended not on their consent1 but that they were born to such an obedience4 ,in consequence of this opinion1 we frequently see them imagine such persons to be their natural rulers1 as are at that time deprived of all power and authority1 and whom no man1 however foolish1 would voluntarily chuse2 and this merely because they are in that line1 which ruled before1 and in that degree of it1 which used to succeed2 though perhaps in so distant a period1 that scarce any man alive could ever have given any promise of obedience4 ,has a government1 then1 no authority over such as these1 because they never consented to it1 and would esteem the very attempt of such a free choice a piece of arrogance and impiety8 ,we find by experience1 that it punishes them very freely for what it calls treason and rebellion1 which1 it seems1 according to this system1 reduces itself to common injustice4 ,if you say1 that by dwelling in its dominions1 they in effect consented to the established government2 ,i answer1 that this can only be1 where they think the affair depends on their choice1 which few or none1 beside those philosophers1 have ever yet imagined4 ,it never was pleaded as an excuse for a rebel1 that the first act he performed1 after he came to years of discretion1 was to levy war against the sovereign of the state2 and that while he was a child he could not bind himself by his own consent1 and having become a man1 showed plainly1 by the first act he performed1 that he had no design to impose on himself any obligation to obedience4 ,we find1 on the contrary1 that civil laws punish this crime at the same age as any other1 which is criminal1 of itself1 without our consent2 that is1 when the person is come to the full use of reason3 ,whereas to this crime they ought in justice to allow some intermediate time1 in which a tacit consent at least might be supposed4 ,to which we may add1 that a man living under an absolute government1 would owe it no allegiance2 since1 by its very nature1 it depends not on consent4 ,but as that is as natural and common a government as any1 it must certainly occasion some obligation2 and it is plain from experience1 that men1 who are subjected to it1 do always think so4 ,this is a clear proof1 that we do not commonly esteem our allegiance to be derived from our consent or promise2 and a farther proof is1 that when our promise is upon any account expressly engaged1 we always distinguish exactly betwixt the two obligations1 and believe the one to add more force to the other1 than in a repetition of the same promise4 ,where no promise is given1 a man looks not on his faith as broken in private matters1 upon account of rebellion2 but keeps those two duties of honour and allegiance perfectly distinct and separate4 ,as the uniting of them was thought by these philosophers a very subtile invention1 this is a convincing proof1 that it is not a true one2 since no man can either give a promise1 or be restrained by its sanction and obligation unknown to himself4 ,,sect4 ,,ix ,,of ,,the ,,measures ,,of ,,allegiance ,those political writers1 who have had recourse to a promise1 or original contract1 as the source of our allegiance to government1 intended to establish a principle1 which is perfectly just and reasonable2 though the reasoning1 upon which they endeavoured to establish it1 was fallacious and sophistical4 ,they would prove1 that our submission to government admits of exceptions1 and that an egregious tyranny in the rulers is sufficient to free the subjects from all ties of allegiance4 ,since men enter into society1 say they1 and submit themselves to government1 by their free and voluntary consent1 they must have in view certain advantages1 which they propose to reap from it1 and for which they are contented to resign their native liberty4 ,there is1 therefore1 something mutual engaged on the part of the magistrate1 viz1 protection and security2 and it is only by the hopes he affords of these advantages1 that he can ever persuade men to submit to him4 ,but when instead of protection and security1 they meet with tyranny and oppression1 they are freed from their promises1 7as happens in all conditional contracts7 and return to that state of liberty1 which preceded the institution of government4 ,men would never be so foolish as to enter into such engagements as should turn entirely to the advantage of others1 without any view of bettering their own condition4 ,whoever proposes to draw any profit from our submission1 must engage himself1 either expressly or tacitly1 to make us reap some advantage from his authority2 nor ought he to expect1 that without the performance of his part we will ever continue in obedience4 ,i repeat it3 ,this conclusion is just1 though the principles be erroneous2 and ,i flatter myself1 that ,i can establish the same conclusion on more reasonable principles4 ,i shall not take such a compass1 in establishing our political duties1 as to assert1 that men perceive the advantages of government2 that they institute government with a view to those advantages2 that this institution requires a promise of obedience2 which imposes a moral obligation to a certain degree1 but being conditional1 ceases to be binding1 whenever the other contracting party performs not his part of the engagement4 ,i perceive1 that a promise itself arises entirely from human conventions1 and is invented with a view to a certain interest4 ,i seek1 therefore1 some such interest more immediately connected with government1 and which may be at once the original motive to its institution1 and the source of our obedience to it4 ,this interest ,i find to consist in the security and protection1 which we enjoy in political society1 and which we can never attain1 when perfectly free and independent4 ,as interest1 therefore1 is the immediate sanction of government1 the one can have no longer being than the other2 and whenever the civil magistrate carries his oppression so far as to render his authority perfectly intolerable1 we are no longer bound to submit to it4 ,the cause ceases2 the effect must cease also4 ,so far the conclusion is immediate and direct1 concerning the natural obligation which we have to allegiance4 ,as to the moral obligation1 we may observe1 that the maxim would here be false1 that when the cause ceases1 the effect must cease also4 ,for there is a principle of human nature1 which we have frequently taken notice of1 that men are mightily addicted to general rules1 and that we often carry our maxims beyond those reasons1 which first induced us to establish them4 ,where cases are similar in many circumstances1 we are apt to put them on the same footing1 without considering1 that they differ in the most material circumstances1 and that the resemblance is more apparent than real4 ,it may1 therefore1 be thought1 that in the case of allegiance our moral obligation of duty will not cease1 even though the natural obligation of interest1 which is its cause1 has ceased2 and that men may be bound by conscience to submit to a tyrannical government against their own and the public interest4 ,and indeed1 to the force of this argument ,i so far submit1 as to acknowledge1 that general rules commonly extend beyond the principles1 on which they are founded2 and that we seldom make any exception to them1 unless that exception have the qualities of a general rule1 and be founded on very numerous and common instances4 ,now this ,i assert to be entirely the present case4 ,when men submit to the authority of others1 it is to procure themselves some security against the wickedness and injustice of men1 who are perpetually carried1 by their unruly passions1 and by their present and immediate interest1 to the violation of all the laws of society4 ,but as this imperfection is inherent in human nature1 we know that it must attend men in all their states and conditions2 and that these1 whom we chuse for rulers1 do not immediately become of a superior nature to the rest of mankind1 upon account of their superior power and authority4 ,what we expect from them depends not on a change of their nature but of their situation1 when they acquire a more immediate interest in the preservation of order and the execution of justice4 ,but besides that this interest is only more immediate in the execution of justice among their subjects2 besides this1 ,i say1 we may often expect1 from the irregularity of human nature1 that they will neglect even this immediate interest1 and be transported by their passions into all the excesses of cruelty and ambition44 ,our general knowledge of human nature1 our observation of the past history of mankind1 our experience of present times2 all these causes must induce us to open the door to exceptions1 and must make us conclude1 that we may resist the more violent effects of supreme power1 without any crime or injustice4 ,accordingly we may observe1 that this is both the general practice and principle of mankind1 and that no nation1 that could find any remedy1 ever yet suffered the cruel ravages of a tyrant1 or were blamed for their resistance4 ,those who took up arms against ,dionysius or ,nero1 or ,philip the second1 have the favour of every reader in the perusal of their history3 and nothing but the most violent perversion of common sense can ever lead us to condemn them4 ,it is certain1 therefore1 that in all our notions of morals we never entertain such an absurdity as that of passive obedience1 but make allowances for resistance in the more flagrant instances of tyranny and oppression4 ,the general opinion of mankind has some authority in all cases2 but in this of morals it is perfectly infallible4 ,nor is it less infallible1 because men cannot distinctly explain the principles1 on which it is founded4 ,few persons can carry on this train of reasoning3 ,government is a mere human invention for the interest of society4 ,where the tyranny of the governor removes this interest1 it also removes the natural obligation to obedience4 ,the moral obligation is founded on the natural1 and therefore must cease where that ceases2 especially where the subject is such as makes us foresee very many occasions wherein the natural obligation may cease1 and causes us to form a kind of general rule for the regulation of our conduct in such occurrences4 ,but though this train of reasoning be too subtile for the vulgar1 it is certain1 that all men have an implicit notion of it1 and are sensible1 that they owe obedience to government merely on account of the public interest2 and at the same time1 that human nature is so subject to frailties and passions1 as may easily pervert this institution1 and change their governors into tyrants and public enemies4 ,if the sense of common interest were not our original motive to obedience1 ,i would fain ask1 what other principle is there in human nature capable of subduing the natural ambition of men1 and forcing them to such a submission8 ,imitation and custom are not sufficient4 ,for the question still recurs1 what motive first produces those instances of submission1 which we imitate1 and that train of actions1 which produces the custom8 ,there evidently is no other principle than public interest2 and if interest first produces obedience to government1 the obligation to obedience must cease1 whenever the interest ceases1 in any great degree1 and in a considerable number of instances4 ,,sect4 ,x ,,of ,,the ,,objects ,,of ,,allegiance ,but though1 on some occasions1 it may be justifiable1 both in sound politics and morality1 to resist supreme power1 it is certain1 that in the ordinary course of human affairs nothing can be more pernicious and criminal2 and that besides the convulsions1 which always attend revolutions1 such a practice tends directly to the subversion of all government1 and the causing an universal anarchy and confusion among mankind4 ,as numerous and civilized societies cannot subsist without government1 so government is entirely useless without an exact obedience4 ,we ought always to weigh the advantages1 which we reap from authority1 against the disadvantages2 and by this means we shall become more scrupulous of putting in practice the doctrine of resistance4 ,the common rule requires submission2 and it is only in cases of grievous tyranny and oppression1 that the exception can take place4 ,since then such a blind submission is commonly due to magistracy1 the next question is1 to whom it is due1 and whom we are to regard as our lawful magistrates8 ,in order to answer this question1 let us recollect what we have already established concerning the origin of government and political society4 ,when men have once experienced the impossibility of preserving any steady order in society1 while every one is his own master1 and violates or observes the laws of society1 according to his present interest or pleasure1 they naturally run into the invention of government1 and put it out of their own power1 as far as possible1 to transgress the laws of society4 ,government1 therefore1 arises from the same voluntary conversation of men2 and it is evident1 that the same convention1 which establishes government1 will also determine the persons who are to govern1 and will remove all doubt and ambiguity in this particular4 ,and the voluntary consent of men must here have the greater efficacy1 that the authority of the magistrate does at first stand upon the foundation of a promise of the subjects1 by which they bind themselves to obedience2 as in every other contract or engagement4 ,the same promise1 then1 which binds them to obedience1 ties them down to a particular person1 and makes him the object of their allegiance4 ,but when government has been established on this footing for some considerable time1 and the separate interest1 which we have in submission1 has produced a separate sentiment of morality1 the case is entirely altered1 and a promise is no longer able to determine the particular magistrate since it is no longer considered as the foundation of government4 ,we naturally suppose ourselves born to submission2 and imagine1 that such particular persons have a right to command1 as we on our part are bound to obey4 ,these notions of right and obligation are derived from nothing but the advantage we reap from government1 which gives us a repugnance to practise resistance ourselves1 and makes us displeased with any instance of it in others4 ,but here it is remarkable1 that in this new state of affairs1 the original sanction of government1 which is interest1 is not admitted to determine the persons1 whom we are to obey1 as the original sanction did at first1 when affairs were on the footing of a promise4 ,a promise fixes and determines the persons1 without any uncertainty3 ,but it is evident1 that if men were to regulate their conduct in this particular1 by the view of a peculiar interest1 either public or private1 they would involve themselves in endless confusion1 and would render all government1 in a great measure1 ineffectual4 ,the private interest of every one is different2 and though the public interest in itself be always one and the same1 yet it becomes the source of as great dissentions1 by reason of the different opinions of particular persons concerning it4 ,the same interest1 therefore1 which causes us to submit to magistracy1 makes us renounce itself in the choice of our magistrates1 and binds us down to a certain form of government1 and to particular persons1 without allowing us to aspire to the utmost perfection in either4 ,the case is here the same as in that law of nature concerning the stability of possession4 ,it is highly advantageous1 and even absolutely necessary to society1 that possession should be stable2 and this leads us to the establishment of such a rule3 ,but we find1 that were we to follow the same advantage1 in assigning particular possessions to particular persons1 we should disappoint our end1 and perpetuate the confusion1 which that rule is intended to prevent4 ,we must1 therefore1 proceed by general rules1 and regulate ourselves by general interests1 in modifying the law of nature concerning the stability of possession4 ,nor need we fear1 that our attachment to this law will diminish upon account of the seeming frivolousness of those interests1 by which it is determined4 ,the impulse of the mind is derived from a very strong interest2 and those other more minute interests serve only to direct the motion1 without adding any thing to it1 or diminishing from it4 ,it is the same case with government4 ,nothing is more advantageous to society than such an invention2 and this interest is sufficient to make us embrace it with ardour and alacrity2 though we are obliged afterwards to regulate and direct our devotion to government by several considerations1 which are not of the same importance1 and to chuse our magistrates without having in view any particular advantage from the choice4 ,the first of those principles ,i shall take notice of1 as a foundation of the right of magistracy1 is that which gives authority to all the most established governments of the world without exception3 ,i mean1 long possession in any one form of government1 or succession of princes4 ,it is certain1 that if we remount to the first origin of every nation1 we shall find1 that there scarce is any race of kings1 or form of a commonwealth1 that is not primarily founded on usurpation and rebellion1 and whose title is not at first worse than doubtful and uncertain4 ,time alone gives solidity to their right2 and operating gradually on the minds of men1 reconciles them to any authority1 and makes it seem just and reasonable4 ,nothing causes any sentiment to have a greater influence upon us than custom1 or turns our imagination more strongly to any object4 ,when we have been long accustomed to obey any set of men1 that general instinct or tendency1 which we have to suppose a moral obligation attending loyalty1 takes easily this direction1 and chuses that set of men for its objects4 ,it is interest which gives the general instinct2 but it is custom which gives the particular direction4 ,and here it is observable1 that the same length of time has a different influence on our sentiments of morality1 according to its different influence on the mind4 ,we naturally judge of every thing by comparison2 and since in considering the fate of kingdoms and republics1 we embrace a long extent of time1 a small duration has not in this case a like influence on our sentiments1 as when we consider any other object4 ,one thinks he acquires a right to a horse1 or a suit of cloaths1 in a very short time2 but a century is scarce sufficient to establish any new government1 or remove all scruples in the minds of the subjects concerning it4 ,add to this1 that a shorter period of time will suffice to give a prince a title to any additional power he may usurp1 than will serve to fix his right1 where the whole is an usurpation4 ,the kings of ,france have not been possessed of absolute power for above two reigns2 and yet nothing will appear more extravagant to ,frenchmen than to talk of their liberties4 ,if we consider what has been said concerning accession1 we shall easily account for this phnomenon4 ,when there is no form of government established by long possession1 the present possession is sufficient to supply its place1 and may be regarded as the second source of all public authority4 ,right to authority is nothing but the constant possession of authority1 maintained by the laws of society and the interests of mankind2 and nothing can be more natural than to join this constant possession to the present one1 according to the principles above-mentioned4 ,if the same principles did not take place with regard to the property of private persons1 it was because these principles were counter-ballanced by very strong considerations of interest2 when we observed1 that all restitution would by that means be prevented1 and every violence be authorized and protected4 ,and though the same motives may seem to have force1 with regard to public authority1 yet they are opposed by a contrary interest2 which consists in the preservation of peace1 and the avoiding of all changes1 which1 however they may be easily produced in private affairs1 are unavoidably attended with bloodshed and confusion1 where the public is interested4 ,any one1 who finding the impossibility of accounting for the right of the present possessor1 by any received system of ethics1 should resolve to deny absolutely that right1 and assert1 that it is not authorized by morality1 would be justly thought to maintain a very extravagant paradox1 and to shock the common sense and judgment of mankind4 ,no maxim is more conformable1 both to prudence and morals1 than to submit quietly to the government1 which we find established in the country where we happen to live1 without enquiring too curiously into its origin and first establishment4 ,few governments will bear being examined so rigorously4 ,how many kingdoms are there at present in the world1 and how many more do we find in history1 whose governors have no better foundation for their authority than that of present possession8 ,to confine ourselves to the ,roman and ,grecian empire2 is it not evident1 that the long succession of emperors1 from the dissolution of the ,roman liberty1 to the final extinction of that empire by the ,turks1 could not so much as pretend to any other title to the empire8 ,the election of the senate was a mere form1 which always followed the choice of the legions2 and these were almost always divided in the different provinces1 and nothing but the sword was able to terminate the difference4 ,it was by the sword1 therefore1 that every emperor acquired1 as well as defended his right2 and we must either say1 that all the known world1 for so many ages1 had no government1 and owed no allegiance to any one1 or must allow1 that the right of the stronger1 in public affairs1 is to be received as legitimate1 and authorized by morality1 when not opposed by any other title4 ,the right of conquest may be considered as a third source of the title of sovereigns4 ,this right resembles very much that of present possession2 but has rather a superior force1 being seconded by the notions of glory and honour1 which we ascribe to conquerors1 instead of the sentiments of hatred and detestation1 which attend usurpers4 ,men naturally favour those they love2 and therefore are more apt to ascribe a right to successful violence1 betwixt one sovereign and another1 than to the successful rebellion of a subject against his sovereign4#aa #aa ,it is not here asserted1 that present possession or conquest are sufficient to give a title against long possession and positive laws but only that they have some force1 and will be able to call the ballance where the titles are otherwise equal1 and will even be sufficient sometimes to sanctify the weaker title4 ,what degree of force they have is difficult to determine4 ,i believe all moderate men will allow1 that they have great force in all disputes concerning the rights of princes4 ,when neither long possession1 nor present possession1 nor conquest take place1 as when the first sovereign1 who founded any monarchy1 dies2 in that case1 the right of succession naturally prevails in their stead1 and men are commonly induced to place the son of their late monarch on the throne1 and suppose him to inherit his father's authority4 ,the presumed consent of the father1 the imitation of the succession to private families1 the interest1 which the state has in chusing the person1 who is most powerful1 and has the most numerous followers2 all these reasons lead men to prefer the son of their late monarch to any other person4#ab #ab ,to prevent mistakes ,i must observe1 that this case of succession is not the same with that of hereditary monarchies1 where custom has fix'd the right of succession4 ,these depend upon the principle of long possession above explain'd4 ,these reasons have some weight2 but ,i am persuaded1 that to one1 who considers impartially of the matter1 it will appear1 that there concur some principles of the imagination1 along with those views of interest4 ,the royal authority seems to be connected with the young prince even in his father's life-time1 by the natural transition of the thought2 and still more after his death3 ,so that nothing is more natural than to compleat this union by a new relation1 and by putting him actually in possession of what seems so naturally to belong to him4 ,to confirm this we may weigh the following phaenomena1 which are pretty curious in their kind4 ,in elective monarchies the right of succession has no place by the laws and settled custom2 and yet its influence is so natural1 that it is impossible entirely to exclude it from the imagination1 and render the subjects indifferent to the son of their deceased monarch4 ,hence in some governments of this kind1 the choice commonly falls on one or other of the royal family2 and in some governments they are all excluded4 ,those contrary phaenomena proceed from the same principle4 ,where the royal family is excluded1 it is from a refinement in politics1 which makes people sensible of their propensity to chuse a sovereign in that family1 and gives them a jealousy of their liberty1 lest their new monarch1 aided by this propensity1 should establish his family1 and destroy the freedom of elections for the future4 ,the history of ,artaxerxes1 and the younger ,cyrus1 may furnish us with some reflections to the same purpose4 ,cyrus pretended a right to the throne above his elder brother1 because he was born after his father's accession4 ,i do not pretend1 that this reason was valid4 ,i would only infer from it1 that he would never have made use of such a pretext1 were it not for the qualities of the imagination above-mentioned1 by which we are naturally inclined to unite by a new relation whatever objects we find already united4 ,artaxerxes had an advantage above his brother1 as being the eldest son1 and the first in succession3 ,but ,cyrus was more closely related to the royal authority1 as being begot after his father was invested with it4 ,should it here be pretended1 that the view of convenience may be the source of all the right of succession1 and that men gladly take advantage of any rule1 by which they can fix the successor of their late sovereign1 and prevent that anarchy and confusion1 which attends all new elections8 ,to this ,i would answer1 that ,i readily allow1 that this motive may contribute something to the effect2 but at the same time ,i assert1 that without another principle1 it is impossible such a motive should take place4 ,the interest of a nation requires1 that the succession to the crown should be fixed one way or other2 but it is the same thing to its interest in what way it be fixed3 ,so that if the relation of blood had not an effect independent of public interest1 it would never have been regarded1 without a positive law2 and it would have been impossible1 that so many positive laws of different nations could ever have concured precisely in the same views and intentions4 ,this leads us to consider the fifth source of authority1 viz4 positive laws2 when the legislature establishes a certain form of government and succession of princes4 ,at first sight it may be thought1 that this must resolve into some of the preceding titles of authority4 ,the legislative power1 whence the positive law is derived1 must either be established by original contract1 long possession1 present possession1 conquest1 or succession2 and consequently the positive law must derive its force from some of those principles4 ,but here it is remarkable1 that though a positive law can only derive its force from these principles1 yet it acquires not all the force of the principle from whence it is derived1 but loses considerably in the transition2 as it is natural to imagine4 ,for instance2 a government is established for many centuries on a certain system of laws1 forms1 and methods of succession4 ,the legislative power1 established by this long succession1 changes all on a sudden the whole system of government1 and introduces a new constitution in its stead4 ,i believe few of the subjects will think themselves bound to comply with this alteration1 unless it have an evident tendency to the public good3 ,but men think themselves still at liberty to return to the antient government4 ,hence the notion of fundamental laws2 which are supposed to be inalterable by the will of the sovereign3 ,and of this nature the ,salic law is understood to be in ,france4 ,how far these fundamental laws extend is not determined in any government2 nor is it possible it ever should4 ,there is such an indefensible gradation from the most material laws to the most trivial1 and from the most ancient laws to the most modern1 that it will be impossible to set bounds to the legislative power1 and determine how far it may innovate in the principles of government4 ,that is the work more of imagination and passion than of reason4 ,whoever considers the history of the several nations of the world2 their revolutions1 conquests1 increase1 and diminution2 the manner in which their particular governments are established1 and the successive right transmitted from one person to another1 will soon learn to treat very lightly all disputes concerning the rights of princes1 and will be convinced1 that a strict adherence to any general rules1 and the rigid loyalty to particular persons and families1 on which some people set so high a value1 are virtues that hold less of reason1 than of bigotry and superstition4 ,in this particular1 the study of history confirms the reasonings of true philosophy2 which1 shewing us the original qualities of human nature1 teaches us to regard the controversies in politics as incapable of any decision in most cases1 and as entirely subordinate to the interests of peace and liberty4 ,where the public good does not evidently demand a change2 it is certain1 that the concurrence of all those titles1 original contract1 long possession1 present possession1 succession1 and positive laws1 forms the strongest title to sovereignty1 and is justly regarded as sacred and inviolable4 ,but when these titles are mingled and opposed in different degrees1 they often occasion perplexity2 and are less capable of solution from the arguments of lawyers and philosophers1 than from the swords of the soldiery4 ,who shall tell me1 for instance1 whether ,germanicus1 or ,drufus1 ought to have succeeded ,tiberius1 had he died while they were both alive1 without naming any of them for his successor8 ,ought the right of adoption to be received as equivalent to that of blood in a nation1 where it had the same effect in private families1 and had already1 in two instances1 taken place in the public8 ,ought ,germanicus to be esteemed the eldest son1 because he was born before ,drufus2 or the younger1 because he was adopted after the birth of his brother8 ,ought the right of the elder to be regarded in a nation1 where the eldest brother had no advantage in the succession to private families8 ,ought the ,roman empire at that time to be esteemed hereditary1 because of two examples2 or ought it1 even so early1 to be regarded as belonging to the stronger1 or the present possessor1 as being founded on so recent an usurpation8 ,upon whatever principles we may pretend to answer these and such like questions1 ,i am afraid we shall never be able to satisfy an impartial enquirer1 who adopts no party in political controversies1 and will be satisfied with nothing but sound reason and philosophy4 ,but here an ,english reader will be apt to enquire concerning that famous revolution1 which has had such a happy influence on our constitution1 and has been attended with such mighty consequences4 ,we have already remarked1 that in the case of enormous tyranny and oppression1 it is lawful to take arms even against supreme power2 and that as government is a mere human invention for mutual advantage and security1 it no longer imposes any obligation1 either natural or moral1 when once it ceases to have that tendency4 ,but though this general principle be authorized by common sense1 and the practice of all ages1 it is certainly impossible for the laws1 or even for philosophy1 to establish any particular rules1 by which we may know when resistance is lawful2 and decide all controversies1 which may arise on that subject4 ,this may not only happen with regard to supreme power2 but it is possible1 even in some constitutions1 where the legislative authority is not lodged in one person1 that there may be a magistrate so eminent and powerful1 as to oblige the laws to keep silence in this particular4 ,nor would this silence be an effect only of their respect1 but also of their prudence2 since it is certain1 that in the vast variety of circumstances1 which occur in all governments1 an exercise of power1 in so great a magistrate1 may at one time be beneficial to the public1 which at another time would be pernicious and tyrannical4 ,but notwithstanding this silence of the laws in limited monarchies1 it is certain1 that the people still retain the right of resistance2 since it is impossible1 even in the most despotic governments1 to deprive them of it4 ,the same necessity of self-preservation1 and the same motive of public good1 give them the same liberty in the one case as in the other4 ,and we may farther observe1 that in such mixed governments1 the cases1 wherein resistance is lawful1 must occur much oftener1 and greater indulgence be given to the subjects to defend themselves by force of arms1 than in arbitrary governments4 ,not only where the chief magistrate enters into measures1 in themselves1 extremely pernicious to the public1 but even when he would encroach on the other parts of the constitution1 and extend his power beyond the legal bounds1 it is allowable to resist and dethrone him2 though such resistance and violence may1 in the general tenor of the laws1 be deemed unlawful and rebellious4 ,for besides that nothing is more essential to public interest1 than the preservation of public liberty2 it is evident1 that if such a mixed government be once supposed to be established1 every part or member of the constitution must have a right of self-defence1 and of maintaining its ancient bounds against the encroachment of every other authority4 ,as matter would have been created in vain1 were it deprived of a power of resistance1 without which no part of it could preserve a distinct existence1 and the whole might be crowded up into a single point3 ,so it is a gross absurdity to suppose1 in any government1 a right without a remedy1 or allow1 that the supreme power is shared with the people1 without allowing1 that it is lawful for them to defend their share against every invader4 ,those1 therefore1 who would seem to respect our free government1 and yet deny the right of resistance1 have renounced all pretensions to common sense1 and do not merit a serious answer4 ,it does not belong to my present purpose to shew1 that these general principles are applicable to the late revolution2 and that all the rights and privileges1 which ought to be sacred to a free nation1 were at that time threatened with the utmost danger4 ,i am better pleased to leave this controverted subject1 if it really admits of controversy2 and to indulge myself in some philosophical reflections1 which naturally arise from that important event4 ,first1 ,we may observe1 that should the lords and commons in our constitution1 without any reason from public interest1 either depose the king in being1 or after his death exclude the prince1 who1 by laws and settled custom1 ought to succeed1 no one would esteem their proceedings legal1 or think themselves bound to comply with them4 ,but should the king1 by his unjust practices1 or his attempts for a tyrannical and despotic power1 justly forfeit his legal1 it then not only becomes morally lawful and suitable to the nature of political society to dethrone him2 but what is more1 we are apt likewise to think1 that the remaining members of the constitution acquire a right of excluding his next heir1 and of chusing whom they please for his successor4 ,this is founded on a very singular quality of our thought and imagination4 ,when a king forfeits his authority1 his heir ought naturally to remain in the same situation1 as if the king were removed by death2 unless by mixing himself in the tyranny1 he forfeit it for himself4 ,but though this may seem reasonable1 we easily comply with the contrary opinion4 ,the deposition of a king1 in such a government as ours1 is certainly an act beyond all common authority1 and an illegal assuming a power for public good1 which1 in the ordinary course of government1 can belong to no member of the constitution4 ,when the public good is so great and so evident as to justify the action1 the commendable use of this licence causes us naturally to attribute to the parliament a right of using farther licences2 and the antient bounds of the laws being once transgressed with approbation1 we are not apt to be so strict in confining ourselves precisely within their limits4 ,the mind naturally runs on with any train of action1 which it has begun2 nor do we commonly make any scruple concerning our duty1 after the first action of any kind1 which we perform4 ,thus at the revolution1 no one who thought the deposition of the father justifiable1 esteemed themselves to be confined to his infant son2 though had that unhappy monarch died innocent at that time1 and had his son1 by any accident1 been conveyed beyond seas1 there is no doubt but a regency would have been appointed till he should come to age1 and could be restored to his dominions4 ,as the slightest properties of the imagination have an effect on the judgments of the people1 it shews the wisdom of the laws and of the parliament to take advantage of such properties1 and to chuse the magistrates either in or out of a line1 according as the vulgar will most naturally attribute authority and right to them4 ,secondly1 ,though the accession of the ,prince of ,orange to the throne might at first give occasion to many disputes1 and his title be contested1 it ought not now to appear doubtful1 but must have acquired a sufficient authority from those three princes1 who have succeeded him upon the same title4 ,nothing is more usual1 though nothing may1 at first sight1 appear more unreasonable1 than this way of thinking4 ,princes often seem to acquire a right from their successors1 as well as from their ancestors2 and a king1 who during his life-time might justly be deemed an usurper1 will be regarded by posterity as a lawful prince1 because he has had the good fortune to settle his family on the throne1 and entirely change the antient form of government4 ,julius ,caesar is regarded as the first ,roman emperor2 while ,sylla and ,marius1 whose titles were really the same as his1 are treated as tyrants and usurpers4 ,time and custom give authority to all forms of government1 and all successions of princes2 and that power1 which at first was founded only on injustice and violence1 becomes in time legal and obligatory4 ,nor does the mind rest there2 but returning back upon its footsteps1 transfers to their predecessors and ancestors that right1 which it naturally ascribes to the posterity1 as being related together1 and united in the imagination4 ,the present king of ,france makes ,hugh ,capet a more lawful prince than ,cromwell2 as the established liberty of the ,dutch is no inconsiderable apology for their obstinate resistance to ,philip the second4 ,,sect4 ,,xi ,,of ,,the ,,laws ,,of ,,nations ,when civil government has been established over the greatest part of mankind1 and different societies have been formed contiguous to each other1 there arises a new set of duties among the neighbouring states1 suitable to the nature of that commerce1 which they carry on with each other4 ,political writers tell us1 that in every kind of intercourse1 a body politic is to be considered as one person2 and indeed this assertion is so far just1 that different nations1 as well as private persons1 require mutual assistance2 at the same time that their selfishness and ambition are perpetual sources of war and discord4 ,but though nations in this particular resemble individuals1 yet as they are very different in other respects1 no wonder they regulate themselves by different maxims1 and give rise to a new set of rules1 which we call the laws of nations4 ,under this head we may comprize the sacredness of the persons of ambassadors1 the declaration of war1 the abstaining from poisoned arms1 with other duties of that kind1 which are evidently calculated for the commerce1 that is peculiar to different societies4 ,but though these rules be super-added to the laws of nature1 the former do not entirely abolish the latter2 and one may safely affirm1 that the three fundamental rules of justice1 the stability of possession1 its transference by consent1 and the performance of promises1 are duties of princes1 as well as of subjects4 ,the same interest produces the same effect in both cases4 ,where possession has no stability1 there must be perpetual war4 ,where property is not transferred by consent1 there can be no commerce4 ,where promises are not observed1 there can be no leagues nor alliances4 ,the advantages1 therefore1 of peace1 commerce1 and mutual succour1 make us extend to different kingdoms the same notions of justice1 which take place among individuals4 ,there is a maxim very current in the world1 which few politicians are willing to avow1 but which has been authorized by the practice of all ages1 that there is a system of morals calculated for princes1 much more free than that which ought to govern private persons4 ,it is evident this is not to be understood of the lesser extent of public duties and obligations2 nor will any one be so extravagant as to assert1 that the most solemn treaties ought to have no force among princes4 ,for as princes do actually form treaties among themselves1 they must propose some advantage from the execution of them2 and the prospect of such advantage for the future must engage them to perform their part1 and must establish that law of nature4 ,the meaning1 therefore1 of this political maxim is1 that though the morality of princes has the same extent1 yet it has not the same force as that of private persons1 and may lawfully be trangressed from a more trivial motive4 ,however shocking such a proposition may appear to certain philosophers1 it will be easy to defend it upon those principles1 by which we have accounted for the origin of justice and equity4 ,when men have found by experience1 that it is impossible to subsist without society1 and that it is impossible to maintain society1 while they give free course to their appetites2 so urgent an interest quickly restrains their actions1 and imposes an obligation to observe those rules1 which we call the laws of justice4 ,this obligation of interest rests nor here2 but by the necessary course of the passions and sentiments1 gives rise to the moral obligation of duty2 while we approve of such actions as tend to the peace of society1 and disapprove of such as tend to its disturbance4 ,the same natural obligation of interest takes place among independent kingdoms1 and gives rise to the same morality2 so that no one of ever so corrupt morals will approve of a prince1 who voluntarily1 and of his own accord1 breaks his word1 or violates any treaty4 ,but here we may observe1 that though the intercourse of different states be advantageous1 and even sometimes necessary1 yet it is nor so necessary nor advantageous as that among individuals1 without which it is utterly impossible for human nature ever to subsist4 ,since1 therefore1 the natural obligation to justice1 among different states1 is not so strong as among individuals1 the moral obligation1 which arises from it1 must partake of its weakness2 and we must necessarily give a greater indulgence to a prince or minister1 who deceives another2 than to a private gentleman1 who breaks his word of honour4 ,should it be asked1 what proportion these two species of morality bear to each other8 ,i would answer1 that this is a question1 to which we can never give any precise answer2 nor is it possible to reduce to numbers the proportion1 which we ought to fix betwixt them4 ,one may safely affirm1 that this proportion finds itself1 without any art or study of men2 as we may observe on many other occasions4 ,the practice of the world goes farther in teaching us the degrees of our duty1 than the most subtile philosophy1 which was ever yet invented4 ,and this may serve as a convincing proof1 that all men have an implicit notion of the foundation of those moral rules concerning natural and civil justice1 and are sensible1 that they arise merely from human conventions1 and from the interest1 which we have in the preservation of peace and order4 ,for otherwise the diminution of the interest would never produce a relaxation of the morality1 and reconcile us more easily to any transgression of justice among princes and republics1 than in the private commerce of one subject with another4 ,,sect4 ,,xii ,,of ,,chastity ,,and ,,modesty ,if any difficulty attend this system concerning the laws of nature and nations1 it will be with regard to the universal approbation or blame1 which follows their observance or transgression1 and which some may not think sufficiently explained from the general interests of society4 ,to remove1 as far as possible1 all scruples of this kind1 ,i shall here consider another set of duties1 viz1 the modesty and chastity which belong to the fair sex3 ,and ,i doubt not but these virtues will be found to be still more conspicuous instances of the operation of those principles1 which ,i have insisted on4 ,there are some philosophers1 who attack the female virtues with great vehemence1 and fancy they have gone very far in detecting popular errors1 when they can show1 that there is no foundation in nature for all that exterior modesty1 which we require in the expressions1 and dress1 and behaviour of the fair sex4 ,i believe ,i may spare myself the trouble of insisting on so obvious a subject1 and may proceed1 without farther preparation1 to examine after what manner such notions arise from education1 from the voluntary conventions of men1 and from the interest of society4 ,whoever considers the length and feebleness of human infancy1 with the concern which both sexes naturally have for their offspring1 will easily perceive1 that there must be an union of male and female for the education of the young1 and that this union must be of considerable duration4 ,but in order to induce the men to impose on themselves this restraint1 and undergo chearfully all the fatigues and expences1 to which it subjects them1 they must believe1 that the children are their own1 and that their natural instinct is not directed to a wrong object1 when they give a loose to love and tenderness4 ,now if we examine the structure of the human body1 we shall find1 that this security is very difficult to be attained on our part2 and that since1 in the copulation of the sexes1 the principle of generation goes from the man to the woman1 an error may easily take place on the side of the former1 though it be utterly impossible with regard to the latter4 ,from this trivial and anatomical observation is derived that vast difference betwixt the education and duties of the two sexes4 ,were a philosopher to examine the matter a priori1 he would reason after the following manner4 ,men are induced to labour for the maintenance and education of their children1 by the persuasion that they are really their own2 and therefore it is reasonable1 and even necessary1 to give them some security in this particular4 ,this security cannot consist entirely in the imposing of severe punishments on any transgressions of conjugal fidelity on the part of the wife2 since these public punishments cannot be inflicted without legal proof1 which it is difficult to meet with in this subject4 ,what restraint1 therefore1 shall we impose on women1 in order to counter-balance so strong a temptation as they have to infidelity8 ,there seems to be no restraint possible1 but in the punishment of bad fame or reputation2 a punishment1 which has a mighty influence on the human mind1 and at the same time is inflicted by the world upon surmizes1 and conjectures1 and proofs1 that would never be received in any court of judicature4 ,in order1 therefore1 to impose a due restraint on the female sex1 we must attach a peculiar degree of shame to their infidelity1 above what arises merely from its injustice1 and must bestow proportionable praises on their chastity4 ,but though this be a very strong motive to fidelity1 our philosopher would quickly discover1 that it would not alone be sufficient to that purpose4 ,all human creatures1 especially of the female sex1 are apt to over-look remote motives in favour of any present temptation3 ,the temptation is here the strongest imaginable3 ,its approaches are insensible and seducing3 ,and a woman easily finds1 or flatters herself she shall find1 certain means of securing her reputation1 and preventing all the pernicious consequences of her pleasures4 ,it is necessary1 therefore1 that1 beside the infamy attending such licences1 there should be some preceding backwardness or dread1 which may prevent their first approaches1 and may give the female sex a repugnance to all expressions1 and postures1 and liberties1 that have an immediate relation to that enjoyment4 ,such would be the reasonings of our speculative philosopher3 ,but ,i am persuaded1 that if he had not a perfect knowledge of human nature1 he would be apt to regard them as mere chimerical speculations1 and would consider the infamy attending infidelity1 and backwardness to all its approaches1 as principles that were rather to be wished than hoped for in the world4 ,for what means1 would he say1 of persuading mankind1 that the transgressions of conjugal duty are more infamous than any other kind of injustice1 when it is evident they are more excusable1 upon account of the greatness of the temptation8 ,and what possibility of giving a backwardness to the approaches of a pleasure1 to which nature has inspired so strong a propensity2 and a propensity that it is absolutely necessary in the end to comply with1 for the support of the species8 ,but speculative reasonings1 which cost so much pains to philosophers1 are often formed by the world naturally1 and without reflection3 ,as difficulties1 which seem unsurmountable in theory1 are easily got over in practice4 ,those1 who have an interest in the fidelity of women1 naturally disapprove of their infidelity1 and all the approaches to it4 ,those1 who have no interest1 are carried along with the stream4 ,education takes possession of the ductile minds of the fair sex in their infancy4 ,and when a general rule of this kind is once established1 men are apt to extend it beyond those principles1 from which it first arose4 ,thus batchelors1 however debauched1 cannot chuse but be shocked with any instance of lewdness or impudence in women4 ,and though all these maxims have a plain reference to generation1 yet women past child-bearing have no more privilege in this respect1 than those who are in the flower of their youth and beauty4 ,men have undoubtedly an implicit notion1 that all those ideas of modesty and decency have a regard to generation2 since they impose not the same laws1 with the same force1 on the male sex1 where that reason takes not place4 ,the exception is there obvious and extensive1 and founded on a remarkable difference1 which produces a clear separation and disjunction of ideas4 ,but as the case is not the same with regard to the different ages of women1 for this reason1 though men know1 that these notions are founded on the public interest1 yet the general rule carries us beyond the original principle1 and makes us extend the notions of modesty over the whole sex1 from their earliest infancy to their extremest old-age and infirmity4 ,courage1 which is the point of honour among men1 derives its merit1 in a great measure1 from artifice1 as well as the chastity of women2 though it has also some foundation in nature1 as we shall see afterwards4 ,as to the obligations which the male sex lie under1 with regard to chastity1 we may observe1 that according to the general notions of the world1 they bear nearly the same proportion to the obligations of women1 as the obligations of the law of nations do to those of the law of nature4 ,it is contrary to the interest of civil society1 that men should have an entire liberty of indulging their appetites in venereal enjoyment3 ,but as this interest is weaker than in the case of the female sex1 the moral obligation1 arising from it1 must be proportionably weaker4 ,and to prove this we need only appeal to the practice and sentiments of all nations and ages4 ,,part ,,iii ,,of ,,the ,,other ,,virtues ,,and ,,vices ,,sect4 ,i ,,of ,,the ,,origin ,,of ,,the ,,natural ,,virtues ,,and ,,vices ,we come now to the examination of such virtues and vices as are entirely natural1 and have no dependance on the artifice and contrivance of men4 ,the examination of these will conclude this system of morals4 ,the chief spring or actuating principle of the human mind is pleasure or pain2 and when these sensations are removed1 both from our thought and feeling1 we are1 in a great measure1 incapable of passion or action1 of desire or volition4 ,the most immediate effects of pleasure and pain are the propense and averse motions of the mind2 which are diversified into volition1 into desire and aversion1 grief and joy1 hope and fear1 according as the pleasure or pain changes its situation1 and becomes probable or improbable1 certain or uncertain1 or is considered as out of our power for the present moment4 ,but when along with this1 the objects1 that cause pleasure or pain1 acquire a relation to ourselves or others2 they still continue to excite desire and aversion1 grief and joy3 ,but cause1 at the same time1 the indirect passions of pride or humility1 love or hatred1 which in this case have a double relation of impressions and ideas to the pain or pleasure4 ,we have already observed1 that moral distinctions depend entirely on certain peculiar sentiments of pain and pleasure1 and that whatever mental quality in ourselves or others gives us a satisfaction1 by the survey or reflection1 is of course virtuous2 as every thing of this nature1 that gives uneasiness1 is vicious4 ,now since every quality in ourselves or others1 which gives pleasure1 always causes pride or love2 as every one1 that produces uneasiness1 excites humility or hatred3 ,it follows1 that these two particulars are to be considered as equivalent1 with regard to our mental qualities1 virtue and the power of producing love or pride1 vice and the power of producing humility or hatred4 ,in every case1 therefore1 we must judge of the one by the other2 and may pronounce any quality of the mind virtuous1 which causes love or pride2 and any one vicious1 which causes hatred or humility4 ,if any action be either virtuous or vicious1 it is only as a sign of some quality or character4 ,it must depend upon durable principles of the mind1 which extend over the whole conduct1 and enter into the personal character4 ,actions themselves1 not proceeding from any constant principle1 have no influence on love or hatred1 pride or humility2 and consequently are never considered in morality4 ,this reflection is self-evident1 and deserves to be attended to1 as being of the utmost importance in the present subject4 ,we are never to consider any single action in our enquiries concerning the origin of morals2 but only the quality or character from which the action proceeded4 ,these alone are durable enough to affect our sentiments concerning the person4 ,actions are1 indeed1 better indications of a character than words1 or even wishes and sentiments2 but it is only so far as they are such indications1 that they are attended with love or hatred1 praise or blame4 ,to discover the true origin of morals1 and of that love or hatred1 which arises from mental qualities1 we must take the matter pretty deep1 and compare some principles1 which have been already examined and explained4 ,we may begin with considering a-new the nature and force of sympathy4 ,the minds of all men are similar in their feelings and operations2 nor can any one be actuated by any affection1 of which all others are not1 in some degree1 susceptible4 ,as in strings equally wound up1 the motion of one communicates itself to the rest2 so all the affections readily pass from one person to another1 and beget correspondent movements in every human creature4 ,when ,i see the effects of passion in the voice and gesture of any person1 my mind immediately passes from these effects to their causes1 and forms such a lively idea of the passion1 as is presently converted into the passion itself4 ,in like manner1 when ,i perceive the causes of any emotion1 my mind is conveyed to the effects1 and is actuated with a like emotion4 ,were ,i present at any of the more terrible operations of surgery1 it is certain1 that even before it begun1 the preparation of the instruments1 the laying of the bandages in order1 the heating of the irons1 with all the signs of anxiety and concern in the patient and assistants1 would have a great effect upon my mind1 and excite the strongest sentiments of pity and terror4 ,no passion of another discovers itself immediately to the mind4 ,we are only sensible of its causes or effects4 ,from these we infer the passion3 ,and consequently these give rise to our sympathy4 ,our sense of beauty depends very much on this principle2 and where any object has atendency to produce pleasure in its possessor1 it is always regarded as beautiful2 as every object1 that has a tendency to produce pain1 is disagreeable and deformed4 ,thus the conveniency of a house1 the fertility of a field1 the strength of a horse1 the capacity1 security1 and swift-sailing of a vessel1 form the principal beauty of these several objects4 ,here the object1 which is denominated beautiful1 pleases only by its tendency to produce a certain effect4 ,that effect is the pleasure or advantage of some other person4 ,now the pleasure of a stranger1 for whom we have no friendship1 pleases us only by sympathy4 ,to this principle1 therefore1 is owing the beauty1 which we find in every thing that is useful4 ,how considerable a part this is of beauty can easily appear upon reflection4 ,wherever an object has a tendency to produce pleasure in the possessor1 or in other words1 is the proper cause of pleasure1 it is sure to please the spectator1 by a delicate sympathy with the possessor4 ,most of the works of art are esteemed beautiful1 in proportion to their fitness for the use of man1 and even many of the productions of nature derive their beauty from that source4 ,handsome and beautiful1 on most occasions1 is nor an absolute but a relative quality1 and pleases us by nothing but its tendency to produce an end that is agreeable4#a #a ,decentior equus cujus astricta sunt ilia2 sed idem velocior4 ,pulcher aspectu sit athieta1 cujus lacertos exercitatio expressit2 idem certamini paratior4 ,nunquam vero species ab utilitate dividitur4 ,sed hoc quidem discernere1 modici judicii est4 ,quinct4 lib4 #h4 7,a horse with narrow flanks looks more comely2 ,it also moves faster4 ,an athlete whose muscles have been developed by training presents a handsome appearance2 he is also better prepared for the contest4 ,attractive appearance is invariably associated with efficient functioning4 ,yet it takes no outstanding powers of judgement to wake this distinction47 ,the same principle produces1 in many instances1 our sentiments of morals1 as well as those of beauty4 ,no virtue is more esteemed than justice1 and no vice more detested than injustice2 nor are there any qualities1 which go farther to the fixing the character1 either as amiable or odious4 ,now justice is a moral virtue1 merely because it has that tendency to the good of mankind2 and1 indeed1 is nothing but an artificial invention to that purpose4 ,the same may be said of allegiance1 of the laws of nations1 of modesty1 and of good-manners4 ,all these are mere human contrivances for the interest of society4 ,and since there is a very strong sentiment of morals1 which in all nations1 and all ages1 has attended them1 we must allow1 that the reflecting on the tendency of characters and mental qualities1 is sufficient to give us the sentiments of approbation and blame4 ,now as the means to an end can only be agreeable1 where the end is agreeable2 and as the good of society1 where our own interest is not concerned1 or that of our friends1 pleases only by sympathy3 ,it follows1 that sympathy is the source of the esteem1 which we pay to all the artificial virtues4 ,thus it appears1 that sympathy is a very powerful principle in human nature1 that it has a great influence on our taste of beauty1 and that it produces our sentiment of morals in all the artificial virtues4 ,from thence we may presume1 that it also gives rise to many of the other virtues2 and that qualities acquire our approbation1 because of their tendency to the good of mankind4 ,this presumption must become a certainty1 when we find that most of those qualities1 which we naturally approve of1 have actually that tendency1 and render a man a proper member of society3 ,while the qualities1 which we naturally disapprove of1 have a contrary tendency1 and render any intercourse with the person dangerous or disagreeable4 ,for having found1 that such tendencies have force enough to produce the strongest sentiment of morals1 we can never reasonably1 in these cases1 look for any other cause of approbation or blame2 it being an inviolable maxim in philosophy1 that where any particular cause is sufficient for an effect1 we ought to rest satisfied with it1 and ought not to multiply causes without necessity4 ,we have happily attained experiments in the artificial virtues1 where the tendency of qualities to the good of society1 is the sole cause of our approbation1 without any suspicion of the concurrence of another principle4 ,from thence we learn the force of that principle4 ,and where that principle may take place1 and the quality approved of is really beneficial to society1 a true philosopher will never require any other principle to account for the strongest approbation and esteem4 ,that many of the natural virtues have this tendency to the good of society1 no one can doubt of4 ,meekness1 beneficence1 charity1 generosity1 clemency1 moderation1 equity bear the greatest figure among the moral qualities1 and are commonly denominated the social virtues1 to mark their tendency to the good of society4 ,this goes so far1 that some philosophers have represented all moral distinctions as the effect of artifice and education1 when skilful politicians endeavoured to restrain the turbulent passions of men1 and make them operate to the public good1 by the notions of honour and shame4 ,this system1 however1 is nor consistent with experience4 ,for1 first1 there are other virtues and vices beside those which have this tendency to the public advantage and loss4 ,secondly1 had not men a natural sentiment of approbation and blame1 it could never be excited by politicians2 nor would the words laudable and praise-worthy1 blameable and odious be any more intelligible1 than if they were a language perfectly known to us1 as we have already observed4 ,but though this system be erroneous1 it may teach us1 that moral distinctions arise1 in a great measure1 from the tendency of qualities and characters to the interests of society1 and that it is our concern for that interest1 which makes us approve or disapprove of them4 ,now we have no such extensive concern for society but from sympathy2 and consequently it is that principle1 which takes us so far out of ourselves1 as to give us the same pleasure or uneasiness in the characters of others1 as if they had a tendency to our own advantage or loss4 ,the only difference betwixt the natural virtues and justice lies in this1 that the good1 which results from the former1 arises from every single act1 and is the object of some natural passion3 ,whereas a single act of justice1 considered in itself1 may often be contrary to the public good2 and it is only the concurrence of mankind1 in a general scheme or system of action1 which is advantageous4 ,when ,i relieve persons in distress1 my natural humanity is my motive2 and so far as my succour extends1 so far have ,i promoted the happiness of my fellow-creatures4 ,but if we examine all the questions1 that come before any tribunal of justice1 we shall find1 that1 considering each case apart1 it would as often be an instance of humanity to decide contrary to the laws of justice as conformable them4 ,judges take from a poor man to give to a rich2 they bestow on the dissolute the labour of the industrious2 and put into the hands of the vicious the means of harming both themselves and others4 ,the whole scheme1 however1 of law and justice is advantageous to the society2 and it was with a view to this advantage1 that men1 by their voluntary conventions1 established it4 ,after it is once established by these conventions1 it is naturally attended with a strong sentiment of morals2 which can proceed from nothing but our sympathy with the interests of society4 ,we need no other explication of that esteem1 which attends such of the natural virtues1 as have a tendency to the public good4 ,i must farther add1 that there are several circumstances1 which render this hypothesis much more probable with regard to the natural than the artificial virtues4 ,it is certain that the imagination is more affected by what is particular1 than by what is general2 and that the sentiments are always moved with difficulty1 where their objects are1 in any degree1 loose and undetermined3 ,now every particular act of justice is not beneficial to society1 but the whole scheme or system3 ,and it may not1 perhaps1 be any individual person for whom we are concerned1 who receives benefit from justice1 but the whole society alike4 ,on the contrary1 every particular act of generosity1 or relief of the industrious and indigent1 is beneficial2 and is beneficial to a particular person1 who is not undeserving of it4 ,it is more natural1 therefore1 to think1 that the tendencies of the latter virtue will affect our sentiments1 and command our approbation1 than those of the former2 and therefore1 since we find1 that the approbation of the former arises from their tendencies1 we may ascribe1 with better reason1 the same cause to the approbation of the latter4 ,in any number of similar effects1 if a cause can be discovered for one1 we ought to extend that cause to all the other effects1 which can be accounted for by it3 ,but much more1 if these other effects be attended with peculiar circumstances1 which facilitate the operation of that cause4 ,before ,i proceed farther1 ,i must observe two remarkable circumstances in this affair1 which may seem objections to the present system4 ,the first may be thus explained4 ,when any quality1 or character1 has a tendency to the good of mankind1 we are pleased with it1 and approve of it2 because it presents the lively idea of pleasure2 which idea affects us by sympathy1 and is itself a kind of pleasure4 ,but as this sympathy is very variable1 it may be thought that our sentiments of morals must admit of all the same variations4 ,we sympathize more with persons contiguous to us1 than with persons remote from us3 ,with our acquaintance1 than with strangers3 ,with our countrymen1 than with foreigners4 ,but notwithstanding this variation of our sympathy1 we give the same approbation to the same moral qualities in ,china as in ,england4 ,they appear equally virtuous1 and recommend themselves equally to the esteem of a judicious spectator4 ,the sympathy varies without a variation in our esteem4 ,our esteem1 therefore1 proceeds not from sympathy4 ,to this ,i answer3 ,the approbation of moral qualities most certainly is not derived from reason1 or any comparison of ideas2 but proceeds entirely from a moral taste1 and from certain sentiments of pleasure or disgust1 which arise upon the contemplation and view of particular qualities or characters4 ,now it is evident1 that those sentiments1 whence-ever they are derived1 must vary according to the distance or contiguity of the objects2 nor can ,i feel the same lively pleasure from the virtues of a person1 who lived in ,greece two thousand years ago1 that ,i feel from the virtues of a familiar friend and acquaintance4 ,yet ,i do not say1 that ,i esteem the one more than the other3 ,and therefore1 if the variation of the sentiment1 without a variation of the esteem1 be an objection1 it must have equal force against every other system1 as against that of sympathy4 ,but to consider the matter a-right1 it has no force at all2 and it is the easiest matter in the world to account for it4 ,our situation1 with regard both to persons and things1 is in continual fluctuation2 and a man1 that lies at a distance from us1 may1 in a little time1 become a familiar acquaintance4 ,besides1 every particular man has a peculiar position with regard to others2 and it is impossible we could ever converse together on any reasonable terms1 were each of us to consider characters and persons1 only as they appear from his peculiar point of view4 ,in order1 therefore1 to prevent those continual contradictions1 and arrive at a more stable judgment of things1 we fix on some steady and general points of view2 and always1 in our thoughts1 place ourselves in them1 whatever may be our present situation4 ,in like manner1 external beauty is determined merely by pleasure2 and it is evident1 a beautiful countenance cannot give so much pleasure1 when seen at the distance of twenty paces1 as when it is brought nearer us4 ,we say not1 however1 that it appears to us less beautiful3 ,because we know what effect it will have in such a position1 and by that reflection we correct its momentary appearance4 ,in general1 all sentiments of blame or praise are variable1 according to our situation of nearness or remoteness1 with regard to the person blamed or praised1 and according to the present disposition of our mind4 ,but these variations we regard not in our general decision1 but still apply the terms expressive of our liking or dislike1 in the same manner1 as if we remained in one point of view4 ,experience soon teaches us this method of correcting our sentiments1 or at least1 of correcting our language1 where the sentiments are more stubborn and inalterable4 ,our servant1 if diligent and faithful1 may excite stronger sentiments of love and kindness than ,marcus ,brutus1 as represented in history2 but we say not upon that account1 that the former character is more laudable than the latter4 ,we know1 that were we to approach equally near to that renowned patriot1 he would command a much higher degree of affection and admiration4 ,such corrections are common with regard to all the senses2 and indeed it were impossible we could ever make use of language1 or communicate our sentiments to one another1 did we not correct the momentary appearances of things1 and overlook our present situation4 ,it is therefore from the influence of characters and qualities1 upon those who have an intercourse with any person1 that we blame or praise him4 ,we consider not whether the persons1 affected by the qualities1 be our acquaintance or strangers1 countrymen or foreigners4 ,nay1 we over-look our own interest in those general judgments2 and blame not a man for opposing us in any of our pretensions1 when his own interest is particularly concerned4 ,we make allowance for a certain degree of selfishness in men2 because we know it to be inseparable from human nature1 and inherent in our frame and constitution4 ,by this reflection we correct those sentiments of blame1 which so naturally arise upon any opposition4 ,but however the general principle of our blame or praise may be corrected by those other principles1 it is certain1 they are not altogether efficacious1 nor do our passions often correspond entirely to the present theory4 ,it is seldom men heartily love what lies at a distance from them1 and what no way redounds to their particular benefit2 as it is no less rare to meet with persons1 who can pardon another any opposition he makes to their interest1 however justifiable that opposition may be by the general rules of morality4 ,here we are contented with saying1 that reason requires such an ,impartial conduct1 but that it is seldom we can bring ourselves to it1 and that our passions do not readily follow the determination of our judgment4 ,this language will be easily understood1 if we consider what we formerly said concerning that reason1 which is able to oppose our passion2 and which we have found to be nothing but a general calm determination of the passions1 founded on some distant view or reflection4 ,when we form our judgments of persons1 merely from the tendency of their characters to our own benefit1 or to that of our friends1 we find so many contradictions to our sentiments in society and conversation1 and such an uncertainty from the incessant changes of our situation1 that we seek some other standard of merit and demerit1 which may not admit of so great variation4 ,being thus loosened from our first station1 we cannot afterwards fix ourselves so commodiously by any means as by a sympathy with those1 who have any commerce with the person we consider4 ,this is far from being as lively as when our own interest is concerned1 or that of our particular friends2 nor has it such an influence on our love and hatred3 ,but being equally conformable to our calm and general principles1 it is said to have an equal authority over our reason1 and to command our judgment and opinion4 ,we blame equally a bad action1 which we read of in history1 with one performed in our neighbourhood the other day3 ,the meaning of which is1 that we know from reflection1 that the former action would excite as strong sentiments of disapprobation as the latter1 were it placed in the same position4 ,i now proceed to the second remarkable circumstance1 which ,i proposed to take notice of4 ,where a person is possessed of a character1 that in its natural tendency is beneficial to society1 we esteem him virtuous1 and are delighted with the view of his character1 even though particular accidents prevent its operation1 and incapacitate him from being serviceable to his friends and country4 ,virtue in rags is still virtue2 and the love1 which it procures1 attends a man into a dungeon or desart1 where the virtue can no longer be exerted in action1 and is lost to all the world4 ,now this may be esteemed an objection to the present system4 ,sympathy interests us in the good of mankind2 and if sympathy were the source of our esteem for virtue1 that sentiment of approbation could only take place1 where the virtue actually attained its end1 and was beneficial to mankind4 ,where it fails of its end1 it is only an imperfect means2 and therefore can never acquire any merit from that end4 ,the goodness of an end can bestow a merit on such means alone as are compleat1 and actually produce the end4 ,to this we may reply1 that where any object1 in all its parts1 is fitted to attain any agreeable end1 it naturally gives us pleasure1 and is esteemed beautiful1 even though some external circumstances be wanting to render it altogether effectual4 ,it is sufficient if every thing be compleat in the object itself4 ,a house1 that is contrived with great judgment for all the commodities of life1 pleases us upon that account2 though perhaps we are sensible1 that no one will ever dwell in it4 ,a fertile soil1 and a happy climate1 delight us by a reflection on the happiness which they would afford the inhabitants1 though at present the country be desart and uninhabited4 ,a man1 whose limbs and shape promise strength and activity1 is esteemed handsome1 though condemned to perpetual imprisonment4 ,the imagination has a set of passions belonging to it1 upon which our sentiments of beauty much depend4 ,these passions are moved by degrees of liveliness and strength1 which are inferior to belief1 and independent of the real existence of their objects4 ,where a character is1 in every respect1 fitted to be beneficial to society1 the imagination passes easily from the cause to the effect1 without considering that there are some circumstances wanting to render the cause a complete one4 ,general rules create a species of probability1 which sometimes influences the judgment1 and always the imagination4 ,it is true1 when the cause is compleat1 and a good disposition is attended with good fortune1 which renders it really beneficial to society1 it gives a stronger pleasure to the spectator1 and is attended with a more lively sympathy4 ,we are more affected by it2 and yet we do not say that it is more virtuous1 or that we esteem it more4 ,we know1 that an alteration of fortune may render the benevolent disposition entirely impotent2 and therefore we separate1 as much as possible1 the fortune from the disposition4 ,the case is the same1 as when we correct the different sentiments of virtue1 which proceed from its different distances from ourselves4 ,the passions do not always follow our corrections2 but these corrections serve sufficiently to regulate our abstract notions1 and are alone regarded1 when we pronounce in general concerning the degrees of vice and virtue4 ,it is observed by critics1 that all words or sentences1 which are difficult to the pronunciation1 are disagreeable to the ear4 ,there is no difference1 whether a man hear them pronounced1 or read them silently to himself4 ,when ,i run over a book with my eye1 ,i imagine ,i hear it all2 and also1 by the force of imagination1 enter into the uneasiness1 which the delivery of it would give the speaker4 ,the uneasiness is not real2 but as such a composition of words has a natural tendency to produce it1 this is sufficient to affect the mind with a painful sentiment1 and render the discourse harsh and disagreeable4 ,it is a similar case1 where any real quality is1 by accidental circumstances1 rendered impotent1 and is deprived of its natural influence on society4 ,upon these principles we may easily remove any contradiction1 which may appear to be betwixt the extensive sympathy1 on which our sentiments of virtue depend1 and that limited generosity which ,i have frequently observed to be natural to men1 and which justice and property suppose1 according to the precedent reasoning4 ,my sympathy with another may give me the sentiment of pain and disapprobation1 when any object is presented1 that has a tendency to give him uneasiness2 though ,i may not be willing to sacrifice any thing of my own interest1 or cross any of my passions1 for his satisfaction4 ,a house may displease me by being ill-contrived for the convenience of the owner2 and yet ,i may refuse to give a shilling towards the rebuilding of it4 ,sentiments must touch the heart1 to make them controul our passions3 ,but they need not extend beyond the imagination1 to make them influence our taste4 ,when a building seems clumsy and tottering to the eye1 it is ugly and disagreeable2 though we be fully assured of the solidity of the workmanship4 ,it is a kind of fear1 which causes this sentiment of disapprobation2 but the passion is not the same with that which we feel1 when obliged to stand under a wall1 that we really think tottering and insecure4 ,the seeming tendencies of objects affect the mind3 ,and the emotions they excite are of a like species with those1 which proceed from the real consequences of objects1 but their feeling is different4 ,nay1 these emotions are so different in their feeling1 that they may often be contrary1 without destroying each other2 as when the fortifications of a city belonging to an enemy are esteemed beautiful upon account of their strength1 though we could wish that they were entirely destroyed4 ,the imagination adheres to the general views of things1 and distinguishes the feelings they produce1 from those which arise from our particular and momentary situation4 ,if we examine the panegyrics that are commonly made of great men1 we shall find1 that most of the qualities1 which are attributed to them1 may be divided into two kinds1 viz4 such as make them perform their part in society2 and such as render them serviceable to themselves1 and enable them to promote their own interest4 ,their prudence1 temperance1 frugality1 industry1 assiduity1 enterprize1 dexterity1 are celebrated1 as well as their generosity and humanity4 ,if we ever give an indulgence to any quality1 that disables a man from making a figure in life1 it is to that of indolence1 which is not supposed to deprive one of his parts and capacity1 but only suspends their exercise2 and that without any inconvenience to the person himself1 since it is1 in some measure1 from his own choice4 ,yet indolence is always allowed to be a fault1 and a very great one1 if extreme3 ,nor do a man's friends ever acknowledge him to be subject to it1 but in order to save his character in more material articles4 ,he could make a figure1 say they1 if he pleased to give application3 ,his understanding is sound1 his conception quick1 and his memory tenacious2 but he hates business1 and is indifferent about his fortune4 ,and this a man sometimes may make even a subject of vanity2 though with the air of confessing a fault3 ,because he may think1 that his incapacity for business implies much more noble qualities2 such as a philosophical spirit1 a fine taste1 a delicate wit1 or a relish for pleasure and society4 ,but take any other case3 ,suppose a quality1 that without being an indication of any other good qualities1 incapacitates a man always for business1 and is destructive to his interest2 such as a blundering understanding1 and a wrong judgment of every thing in life2 inconstancy and irresolution2 or a want of address in the management of men and business3 ,these are all allowed to be imperfections in a character2 and many men would rather acknowledge the greatest crimes1 than have it suspected1 that they are1 in any degree1 subject to them4 ,it is very happy1 in our philosophical researches1 when we find the same phnomenon diversified by a variety of circumstances2 and by discovering what is common among them1 can the better assure ourselves of the truth of any hypothesis we may make use of to explain it4 ,were nothing esteemed virtue but what were beneficial to society1 ,i am persuaded1 that the foregoing explication of the moral sense ought still to be received1 and that upon sufficient evidence3 ,but this evidence must grow upon us1 when we find other kinds of virtue1 which will not admit of any explication except from that hypothesis4 ,here is a man1 who is not remarkably defective in his social qualities2 but what principally recommends him is his dexterity in business1 by which he has extricated himself from the greatest difficulties1 and conducted the most delicate affairs with a singular address and prudence4 ,i find an esteem for him immediately to arise in me3 ,his company is a satisfaction to me2 and before ,i have any farther acquaintance with him1 ,i would rather do him a service than another1 whose character is in every other respect equal1 but is deficient in that particular4 ,in this case1 the qualities that please me are all considered as useful to the person1 and as having a tendency to promote his interest and satisfaction4 ,they are only regarded as means to an end1 and please me in proportion to their fitness for that end4 ,the end1 therefore1 must be agreeable to me4 ,but what makes the end agreeable8 ,the person is a stranger3 ,i am no way interested in him1 nor lie under any obligation to him3 ,his happiness concerns not me1 farther than the happiness of every human1 and indeed of every sensible creature3 ,that is1 it affects me only by sympathy4 ,from that principle1 whenever ,i discover his happiness and good1 whether in its causes or effects1 ,i enter so deeply into it1 that it gives me a sensible emotion4 ,the appearance of qualities1 that have a tendency to promote it1 have an agreeable effect upon my imagination1 and command my love and esteem4 ,this theory may serve to explain1 why the same qualities1 in all cases1 produce both pride and love1 humility and hatred2 and the same man is always virtuous or vicious1 accomplished or despicable to others1 who is so to himself4 ,a person1 in whom we discover any passion or habit1 which originally is only incommodious to himself1 becomes always disagreeable to us1 merely on its account2 as on the other hand1 one whose character is only dangerous and disagreeable to others1 can never be satisfied with himself1 as long as he is sensible of that disadvantage4 ,nor is this observable only with regard to characters and manners1 but may be remarked even in the most minute circumstances4 ,a violent cough in another gives us uneasiness2 though in itself it does not in the least affect us4 ,a man will be mortified1 if you tell him he has a stinking breath2 though it is evidently no annoyance to himself4 ,our fancy easily changes its situation2 and either surveying ourselves as we appear to others1 or considering others as they feel themselves1 we enter1 by that means1 into sentiments1 which no way belong to us1 and in which nothing but sympathy is able to interest us4 ,and this sympathy we sometimes carry so far1 as even to be displeased with a quality commodious to us1 merely because it displeases others1 and makes us disagreeable in their eyes2 though perhaps we never can have any interest in rendering ourselves agreeable to them4 ,there have been many systems of morality advanced by philosophers in all ages2 but if they are strictly examined1 they may be reduced to two1 which alone merit our attention4 ,moral good and evil are certainly distinguished by our sentiments1 not by reason3 ,but these sentiments may arise either from the mere species or appearance of characters and passions1 or from reflections on their tendency to the happiness of mankind1 and of particular persons4 ,my opinion is1 that both these causes are intermixed in our judgments of morals2 after the same manner as they are in our decisions concerning most kinds of external beauty3 ,though ,i am also of opinion1 that reflections on the tendencies of actions have by far the greatest influence1 and determine all the great lines of our duty4 ,there are1 however1 instances1 in cases of less moment1 wherein this immediate taste or sentiment produces our approbation4 ,wit1 and a certain easy and disengaged behaviour1 are qualities immediately agreeable to others1 and command their love and esteem4 ,some of these qualities produce satisfaction in others by particular original principles of human nature1 which cannot be accounted for3 ,others may be resolved into principles1 which are more general4 ,this will best appear upon a particular enquiry4 ,as some qualities acquire their merit from their being immediately agreeable to others1 without any tendency to public interest2 so some are denominated virtuous from their being immediately agreeable to the person himself1 who possesses them4 ,each of the passions and operations of the mind has a particular feeling1 which must be either agreeable or disagreeable4 ,the first is virtuous1 the second vicious4 ,this particular feeling constitutes the very nature of the passion2 and therefore needs not be accounted for4 ,but however directly the distinction of vice and virtue may seem to flow from the immediate pleasure or uneasiness1 which particular qualities cause to ourselves or others2 it is easy to observe1 that it has also a considerable dependence on the principle of sympathy so often insisted on4 ,we approve of a person1 who is possessed of qualities immediately agreeable to those1 with whom he has any commerce2 though perhaps we ourselves never reaped any pleasure from them4 ,we also approve of one1 who is possessed of qualities1 that are immediately agreeable to himself2 though they be of no service to any mortal4 ,to account for this we must have recourse to the foregoing principles4 ,thus1 to take a general review of the present hypothesis3 ,every quality of the mind is denominated virtuous1 which gives pleasure by the mere survey2 as every quality1 which produces pain1 is called vicious4 ,this pleasure and this pain may arise from four different sources4 ,for we reap a pleasure from the view of a character1 which is naturally fitted to be useful to others1 or to the person himself1 or which is agreeable to others1 or to the person himself4 ,one may1 perhaps1 be surprized4 that amidst all these interests and pleasures1 we should forget our own1 which touch us so nearly on every other occasion4 ,but we shall easily satisfy ourselves on this head1 when we consider1 that every particular person's pleasure and interest being different1 it is impossible men could ever agree in their sentiments and judgments1 unless they chose some common point of view1 from which they might survey their object1 and which might cause it to appear the same to all of them4 ,now in judging of characters1 the only interest or pleasure1 which appears the same to every spectator1 is that of the person himself1 whose character is examined2 or that of persons1 who have a connexion with him4 ,and though such interests and pleasures touch us more faintly than our own1 yet being more constant and universal1 they counter-ballance the latter even in practice1 and are alone admitted in speculation as the standard of virtue and morality4 ,they alone produce that particular feeling or sentiment1 on which moral distinctions depend4 ,as to the good or ill desert of virtue or vice1 it is an evident consequence of the sentiments of pleasure or uneasiness4 ,these sentiments produce love or hatred2 and love or hatred1 by the original constitution of human passion1 is attended with benevolence or anger2 that is1 with a desire of making happy the person we love1 and miserable the person we hate4 ,we have treated of this more fully on another occasion4 ,,sect4 ,,ii ,,of ,,greatness ,,of ,,mind ,it may now be proper to illustrate this general system of morals1 by applying it to particular instances of virtue and vice1 and shewing how their merit or demerit arises from the four sources here explained4 ,we shall begin with examining the passions of pride and humility1 and shall consider the vice or virtue that lies in their excesses or just proportion4 ,an excessive pride or overweaning conceit of ourselves is always esteemed vicious1 and is universally hated2 as modesty1 or a just sense of our weakness1 is esteemed virtuous1 and procures the good-will of every-one4 ,of the four sources of moral distinctions1 this is to be ascribed to the third2 viz1 the immediate agreeableness and disagreeableness of a quality to others1 without any reflections on the tendency of that quality4 ,in order to prove this1 we must have recourse to two principles1 which are very conspicuous in human nature4 ,the first of these is the sympathy1 and communication of sentiments and passions above-mentioned4 ,so close and intimate is the correspondence of human souls1 that no sooner any person approaches me1 than he diffuses on me all his opinions1 and draws along my judgment in a greater or lesser degree4 ,and though1 on many occasions1 my sympathy with him goes not so far as entirely to change my sentiments1 and way of thinking2 yet it seldom is so weak as not to disturb the easy course of my thought1 and give an authority to that opinion1 which is recommended to me by his assent and approbation4 ,nor is it any way material upon what subject he and ,i employ our thoughts4 ,whether we judge of an indifferent person1 or of my own character1 my sympathy gives equal force to his decision3 ,and even his sentiments of his own merit make me consider him in the same light1 in which he regards himself4 ,this principle of sympathy is of so powerful and insinuating a nature1 that it enters into most of our sentiments and passions1 and often takes place under the appearance of its contrary4 ,for it is remarkable1 that when a person opposes me in any thing1 which ,i am strongly bent upon1 and rouzes up my passion by contradiction1 ,i have always a degree of sympathy with him1 nor does my commotion proceed from any other origin4 ,we may here observe an evident conflict or rencounter of opposite principles and passions4 ,on the one side there is that passion or sentiment1 which is natural to me2 and it is observable1 that the stronger this passion is1 the greater is the commotion4 ,there must also be some passion or sentiment on the other side2 and this passion can proceed from nothing but sympathy4 ,the sentiments of others can never affect us1 but by becoming1 in some measure1 our own2 in which case they operate upon us1 by opposing and encreasing our passions1 in the very same manner1 as if they had been originally derived from our own temper and disposition4 ,while they remain concealed in the minds of others1 they can never have an influence upon us3 ,and even when they are known1 if they went no farther than the imagination1 or conception2 that faculty is so accustomed to objects of every different kind1 that a mere idea1 though contrary to our sentiments and inclinations1 would never alone be able to affect us4 ,the second principle ,i shall take notice of is that of comparison1 or the variation of our judgments concerning objects1 according to the proportion they bear to those with which we compare them4 ,we judge more1 of objects by comparison1 than by their intrinsic worth and value2 and regard every thing as mean1 when set in opposition to what is superior of the same kind4 ,but no comparison is more obvious than that with ourselves2 and hence it is that on all occasions it takes place1 and mixes with most of our passions4 ,this kind of comparison is directly contrary to sympathy in its operation1 as we have observed in treating of compassion and malice4#b ,,in ,,all ,,kinds ,,of ,,comparison ,,an ,,object ,,makes ,,us ,,always ,,receive ,,from ,,another1 ,,to ,,which ,,it ,,is ,,compared1 ,a ,,sensation ,,contrary ,,to ,,what ,,arises ,,from ,,itself ,,in ,,its ,,direct ,,and ,,immediate ,,survey4 ,,the ,,direct ,,survey ,,of ,,another',s ,,pleasure ,,naturally ,,gives ,,us ,,pleasure2 ,,and ,,therefore ,,produces ,,pain1 ,,when ,,compared ,,with ,,our ,,own4 ,,his ,,pain1 ,,considered ,,in ,,itself1 ,,is ,,painful2 ,,but ,,augments ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,our ,,own ,,happiness1 ,,and ,,gives ,,us ,,pleasure4 #b ,book ,,ii4 ,part ,,ii4 ,sect4 ,,viii4 ,since then those principles of sympathy1 and a comparison with ourselves1 are directly contrary1 it may be worth while to consider1 what general rules can be formed1 beside the particular temper of the person1 for the prevalence of the one or the other4 ,suppose ,i am now in safety at land1 and would willingly reap some pleasure from this consideration3 ,i must think on the miserable condition of those who are at sea in a storm1 and must endeavour to render this idea as strong and lively as possible1 in order to make me more sensible of my own happiness4 ,but whatever pains ,i may take1 the comparison will never have an equal efficacy1 as if ,i were really on the shore1#c and saw a ship at a distance tossed by a tempest1 and in danger every moment of perishing on a rock or sand-bank4 ,but suppose this idea to become still more lively4 ,suppose the ship to be driven so near me1 that ,i can perceive distinctly the horror1 painted on the countenance of the seamen and passengers1 hear their lamentable cries1 see the dearest friends give their last adieu1 or embrace with a resolution to perish in each others arms3 ,no man has so savage a heart as to reap any pleasure from such a spectacle1 or withstand the motions of the tenderest compassion and sympathy4 ,it is evident1 therefore1 there is a medium in this case2 and that if the idea be too feint1 it has no influence by comparison2 and on the other hand1 if it be too strong1 it operates on us entirely by sympathy1 which is the contrary to comparison4 ,sympathy being the conversion of an idea into an impression1 demands a greater force and vivacity in the idea than is requisite to comparison4 #c ,suave mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis ,e terra magnum alterius spectare laborem2 ,non quia vexari quenquam eat jucunda voluptas1 ,sed quibus ipse malls caress qula cernere sauv' est4 ,,lucret4 7,there is something pleasant in watching1 from dry land1 the great difficulties another man is undergoing out on the high sea1 with the winds lashing the waters4 ,this is not because one derives delight from any man's distress1 but because it is pleasurable to perceive from what troubles one is oneself free47 ,all this is easily applied to the present subject4 ,we sink very much in our own eyes1 when in the presence of a great man1 or one of a superior genius2 and this humility makes a considerable ingredient in that respect1 which we pay our superiors1 according to our foregoing reasonings on that passion4#d ,sometimes even envy and hatred arise from the comparison2 but in the greatest part of men1 it rests at respect and esteem4 ,as sympathy has such a powerful influence on the human mind1 it causes pride to have1 in some measure1 the same effect as merit2 and by making us enter into those elevated sentiments1 which the proud man entertains of himself1 presents that comparison1 which is so mortifying and disagreeable4 ,our judgment does not entirely accompany him in the flattering conceit1 in which he pleases himself2 but still is so shaken as to receive the idea it presents1 and to give it an influence above the loose conceptions of the imagination4 ,a man1 who1 in an idle humour1 would form a notion of a person of a merit very much superior to his own1 would not be mortified by that fiction3 ,but when a man1 whom we are really persuaded to be of inferior merit1 is presented to us2 if we observe in him any extraordinary degree of pride and self-conceit2 the firm persuasion he has of his own merit1 takes hold of the imagination1 and diminishes us in our own eyes1 in the same manner1 as if he were really possessed of all the good qualities which he so liberally attributes to himself4 ,our idea is here precisely in that medium1 which is requisite to make it operate on us by comparison4 ,were it accompanied with belief1 and did the person appear to have the same merit1 which he assumes to himself1 it would have a contrary effect1 and would operate on us by sympathy4 ,the influence of that principle would then be superior to that of comparison1 contrary to what happens where the person's merit seems below his pretensions4 #d ,book ,,ii4 ,part ,,ii4 ,sect4 ,x4 ,the necessary consequence of these principles is1 that pride1 or an over-weaning conceit of ourselves1 must be vicious2 since it causes uneasiness in all men1 and presents them every moment with a disagreeable comparison4 ,it is a trite observation in philosophy1 and even in common life and conversation1 that it is our own pride1 which makes us so much displeased with the pride of other people2 and that vanity becomes insupportable to us merely because we are vain4 ,the gay naturally associate themselves with the gay1 and the amorous with the amorous3 ,but the proud never can endure the proud1 and rather seek the company of those who are of an opposite disposition4 ,as we are1 all of us1 proud in some degree1 pride is universally blamed and condemned by all mankind2 as having a natural tendency to cause uneasiness in others by means of comparison4 ,and this effect must follow the more naturally1 that those1 who have an ill-grounded conceit of themselves1 are for ever making those comparisons1 nor have they any other method of supporting their vanity4 ,a man of sense and merit is pleased with himself1 independent of all foreign considerations3 ,but a fool must always find some person1 that is more foolish1 in order to keep himself in good humour with his own parts and understanding4 ,but though an over-weaning conceit of our own merit be vicious and disagreeable1 nothing can be more laudable1 than to have a value for ourselves1 where we really have qualities that are valuable4 ,the utility and advantage of any quality to ourselves is a source of virtue1 as well as its agreeableness to others2 and it is certain1 that nothing is more useful to us in the conduct of life1 than a due degree of pride1 which makes us sensible of our own merit1 and gives us a confidence and assurance in all our projects and enterprizes4 ,whatever capacity any one may be endowed with1 it is entirely useless to him1 if he be not acquainted with it1 and form not designs suitable to it4 ,it is requisite on all occasions to know our own force2 and were it allowable to err on either side1 it would be more advantageous to over-rate our merit1 than to form ideas of it1 below its just standard4 ,fortune commonly favours the bold and enterprizing2 and nothing inspires us with more boldness than a good opinion of ourselves4 ,add to this1 that though pride1 or self-applause1 be sometimes disagreeable to others1 it is always agreeable to ourselves2 as on the other hand1 modesty1 though it gives pleasure to every one1 who observes it1 produces often uneasiness in the person endowed with it4 ,now it has been observed1 that our own sensations determine the vice and virtue of any quality1 as well as those sensations1 which it may excite in others4 ,thus self-satisfaction and vanity may not only be allowable1 but requisite in a character4 ,it is1 however1 certain1 that good-breeding and decency require that we should avoid all signs and expressions1 which tend directly to show that passion4 ,we have1 all of us1 a wonderful partiality for ourselves1 and were we always to give vent to our sentiments in this particular1 we should mutually cause the greatest indignation in each other1 not only by the immediate presence of so disagreeable a subject of comparison1 but also by the contrariety of our judgments4 ,in like manner1 therefore1 as we establish the laws of nature1 in order to secure property in society1 and prevent the opposition of self-interest2 we establish the rules of good-breeding1 in order to prevent the opposition of men's pride1 and render conversation agreeable and inoffensive4 ,nothing is more disagreeable than a man's over-weaning conceit of himself3 ,every one almost has a strong propensity to this vice3 ,no one can well distinguish in himself betwixt the vice and virtue1 or be certain1 that his esteem of his own merit is well-founded3 ,for these reasons1 all direct expressions of this passion are condemned2 nor do we make any exception to this rule in favour of men of sense and merit4 ,they are not allowed to do themselves justice openly1 in words1 no more than other people2 and even if they show a reserve and secret doubt in doing themselves justice in their own thoughts1 they will be more applauded4 ,that impertinent1 and almost universal propensity of men1 to over-value themselves1 has given us such a prejudice against self-applause1 that we are apt to condemn it1 by a general rule1 wherever we meet with it2 and it is with some difficulty we give a privilege to men of sense1 even in their most secret thoughts4 ,at least1 it must be owned1 that some disguise in this particular is absolutely requisite2 and that if we harbour pride in our breasts1 we must carry a fair outside1 and have the appearance of modesty and mutual deference in all our conduct and behaviour4 ,we must1 on every occasion1 be ready to prefer others to ourselves2 to treat them with a kind of deference1 even though they be our equals2 to seem always the lowest and least in the company1 where we are not very much distinguished above them3 ,and if we observe these rules in our conduct1 men will have more indulgence for our secret sentiments1 when we discover them in an oblique manner4 ,i believe no one1 who has any practice of the world1 and can penetrate into the inward sentiments of men1 will assert1 that the humility1 which good-breeding and decency require of us1 goes beyond the outside1 or that a thorough sincerity in this particular is esteemed a real part of our duty4 ,on the contrary1 we may observe1 that a genuine and hearty pride1 or self-esteem1 if well concealed and well founded1 is essential to the character of a man of honour1 and that there is no quality of the mind1 which is more indispensibly requisite to procure the esteem and approbation of mankind4 ,there are certain deferences and mutual submissions1 which custom requires of the different ranks of men towards each other2 and whoever exceeds in this particular1 if through interest1 is accused of meanness2 if through ignorance1 of simplicity4 ,it is necessary1 therefore1 to know our rank and station in the world1 whether it be fixed by our birth1 fortune1 employments1 talents or reputation4 ,it is necessary to feel the sentiment and passion of pride in conformity to it1 and to regulate our actions accordingly4 ,and should it be said1 that prudence may suffice to regulate our actions in this particular1 without any real pride1 ,i would observe1 that here the object of prudence is to conform our actions to the general usage and custom2 and1 that it is impossible those tacit airs of superiority should ever have been established and authorized by custom1 unless men were generally proud1 and unless that passion were generally approved1 when well-grounded4 ,if we pass from common life and conversation to history1 this reasoning acquires new force1 when we observe1 that all those great actions and sentiments1 which have become the admiration of mankind1 are founded on nothing but pride and self-esteem4 ,go1 says ,alexander the ,great to his soldiers1 when they refused to follow him to the ,indies1 go tell your countrymen1 that you left ,alexander corn pleating the conquest of the world4 ,this passage was always particularly admired by the prince of ,conde1 as we learn from ,st ,evremond4 ,,alexander1 said that prince1 abandoned by his soldiers1 among barbarians1 not yet fully subdued1 felt in himself such a dignity of right and of empire1 that he could not believe it possible any one could refuse to obey him4 ,whether in ,europe or in ,asia1 among ,greeks or ,persians1 all was indifferent to him3 ,wherever he found men1 he fancied he found subjects4 ,in general we may observe1 that whatever we call heroic virtue1 and admire under the character of greatness and elevation of mind1 is either nothing but a steady and well-established pride and self-esteem1 or partakes largely of that passion4 ,courage1 intrepidity1 ambition1 love of glory1 magnanimity1 and all the other shining virtues of that kind1 have plainly a strong mixture of self-esteem in them1 and derive a great part of their merit from that origin4 ,accordingly we find1 that many religious declaimers decry those virtues as purely pagan and natural1 and represent to us the excellency of the ,christian religion1 which places humility in the rank of virtues1 and corrects the judgment of the world1 and even of philosophers1 who so generally admire all the efforts of pride and ambition4 ,whether this virtue of humility has been rightly understood1 ,i shall not pretend to determine4 ,i am content with the concession1 that the world naturally esteems a well-regulated pride1 which secretly animates our conduct1 without breaking out into such indecent expressions of vanity1 as many offend the vanity of others4 ,the merit of pride or self-esteem is derived from two circumstances1 viz1 its utility and its agreeableness to ourselves2 by which it capacitates us for business1 and1 at the same time1 gives us an immediate satisfaction4 ,when it goes beyond its just bounds1 it loses the first advantage1 and even becomes prejudicial2 which is the reason why we condemn an extravagant pride and ambition1 however regulated by the decorums of good-breeding and politeness4 ,but as such a passion is still agreeable1 and conveys an elevated and sublime sensation to the person1 who is actuated by it1 the sympathy with that satisfaction diminishes considerably the blame1 which naturally attends its dangerous influence on his conduct and behaviour4 ,accordingly we may observe1 that an excessive courage and magnanimity1 especially when it displays itself under the frowns of fortune1 contributes in a great measure1 to the character of a hero1 and will render a person the admiration of posterity2 at the same time1 that it ruins his affairs1 and leads him into dangers and difficulties1 with which otherwise he would never have been acquainted4 ,heroism1 or military glory1 is much admired by the generality of mankind4 ,they consider it as the most sublime kind of merit4 ,men of cool reflection are not so sanguine in their praises of it4 ,the infinite confusions and disorder1 which it has caused in the world1 diminish much of its merit in their eyes4 ,when they would oppose the popular notions on this head1 they always paint out the evils1 which this supposed virtue has produced in human society2 the subversion of empires1 the devastation of provinces1 the sack of cities4 ,as long as these are present to us1 we are more inclined to hate than admire the ambition of heroes4 ,but when we fix our view on the person himself1 who is the author of all this mischief1 there is something so dazzling in his character1 the mere contemplation of it so elevates the mind1 that we cannot refuse it our admiration4 ,the pain1 which we receive from its tendency to the prejudice of society1 is over-powered by a stronger and more immediate sympathy4 ,thus our explication of the merit or demerit1 which attends the degrees of pride or self-esteem1 may serve as a strong argument for the preceding hypothesis1 by shewing the effects of those principles above explained in all the variations of our judgments concerning that passion4 ,nor will this reasoning be advantageous to us only by shewing1 that the distinction of vice and virtue arises from the four principles of the advantage and of the pleasure of the person himself1 and of others3 ,but may also afford us a strong proof of some under-parts of that hypothesis4 ,no one1 who duly considers of this matter1 will make any scruple of allowing1 that any piece of in-breeding1 or any expression of pride and haughtiness1 is displeasing to us1 merely because it shocks our own pride1 and leads us by sympathy into a comparison1 which causes the disagreeable passion of humility4 ,now as an insolence of this kind is blamed even in a person who has always been civil to ourselves in particular2 nay1 in one1 whose name is only known to us in history2 it follows1 that our disapprobation proceeds from a sympathy with others1 and from the reflection1 that such a character is highly displeasing and odious to every one1 who converses or has any intercourse with the person possest of it4 ,we sympathize with those people in their uneasiness2 and as their uneasiness proceeds in part from a sympathy with the person who insults them1 we may here observe a double rebound of the sympathy2 which is a principle very similar to what we have observed4#e #e ,book ,,ii4 ,part ,,ii4 ,sect4 ,v4 ,,sect4 ,,iii ,,of ,,goodness ,,and ,,benevolence ,having thus explained the origin of that praise and approbation1 which attends every thing we call great in human affections2 we now proceed to give an account of their goodness1 and shew whence its merit is derived4 ,when experience has once given us a competent knowledge of human affairs1 and has taught us the proportion they bear to human passion1 we perceive1 that the generosity of men is very limited1 and that it seldom extends beyond their friends and family1 or1 at most1 beyond their native country4 ,being thus acquainted with the nature of man1 we expect not any impossibilities from him2 but confine our view to that narrow circle1 in which any person moves1 in order to form a judgment of his moral character4 ,when the natural tendency of his passions leads him to be serviceable and useful within his sphere1 we approve of his character1 and love his person1 by a sympathy with the sentiments of those1 who have a more particular connexion with him4 ,we are quickly obliged to forget our own interest in our judgments of this kind1 by reason of the perpetual contradictions1 we meet with in society and conversation1 from persons that are not placed in the same situation1 and have not the same interest with ourselves4 ,the only point of view1 in which our sentiments concur with those of others1 is1 when we consider the tendency of any passion to the advantage or harm of those1 who have any immediate connexion or intercourse with the person possessed of it4 ,and though this advantage or harm be often very remote from ourselves1 yet sometimes it is very near us1 and interests us strongly by sympathy4 ,this concern we readily extend to other cases1 that are resembling2 and when these are very remote1 our sympathy is proportionably weaker1 and our praise or blame fainter and more doubtful4 ,the case is here the same as in our judgments concerning external bodies4 ,all objects seem to diminish by their distance3 ,but though the appearance of objects to our senses be the original standard1 by which we judge of them1 yet we do not say1 that they actually diminish by the distance2 but correcting the appearance by reflection1 arrive at a more constant and established judgment concerning them4 ,in like manner1 though sympathy be much fainter than our concern for ourselves1 and a sympathy with persons remote from us much fainter than that with persons near and contiguous2 yet we neglect all these differences in our calm judgments concerning the characters of men4 ,besides1 that we ourselves often change our situation in this particular1 we every day meet with persons1 who are in a different situation from ourselves1 and who could never converse with us on any reasonable terms1 were we to remain constantly in that situation and point of view1 which is peculiar to us4 ,the intercourse of sentiments1 therefore1 in society and conversation1 makes us form some general inalterable standard1 by which we may approve or disapprove of characters and manners4 ,and though the heart does not always take part with those general notions1 or regulate its love and hatred by them1 yet are they sufficient for discourse1 and serve all our purposes in company1 in the pulpit1 on the theatre1 and in the schools4 ,from these principles we may easily account for that merit1 which is commonly ascribed to generosity1 humanity1 compassion1 gratitude1 friendship1 fidelity1 zeal1 disinterestedness1 liberality1 and all those other qualities1 which form the character of good and benevolent4 ,a propensity to the tender passions makes a man agreeable and useful in all the parts of life2 and gives a just direction to all his other quailties1 which otherwise may become prejudicial to society4 ,courage and ambition1 when not regulated by benevolence1 are fit only to make a tyrant and public robber4 ,it is the same case with judgment and capacity1 and all the qualities of that kind4 ,they are indifferent in themselves to the interests of society1 and have a tendency to the good or ill of mankind1 according as they are directed by these other passions4 ,as ,love is immediately agreeable to the person1 who is actuated by it1 and hatred immediately disagreeable2 this may also be a considerable reason1 why we praise all the passions that partake of the former1 and blame all those that have any considerable share of the latter4 ,it is certain we are infinitely touched with a tender sentiment1 as well as with a great one4 ,the tears naturally start in our eyes at the conception of it2 nor can we forbear giving a loose to the same tenderness towards the person who exerts it4 ,all this seems to me a proof1 that our approbation has1 in those cases1 an origin different from the prospect of utility and advantage1 either to ourselves or others4 ,to which we may add1 that men naturally1 without reflection1 approve of that character1 which is most like their own4 ,the man of a mild disposition and tender affections1 in forming a notion of the most perfect virtue1 mixes in it more of benevolence and humanity1 than the man of courage and enterprize1 who naturally looks upon a certain elevation of mind as the most accomplished character4 ,this must evidently proceed from an immediate sympathy1 which men have with characters similar to their own4 ,they enter with more warmth into such sentiments1 and feel more sensibly the pleasure1 which arises from them4 ,it is remarkable1 that nothing touches a man of humanity more than any instance of extraordinary delicacy in love or friendship1 where a person is attentive to the smallest concerns of his friend1 and is willing to sacrifice to them the most considerable interest of his own4 ,such delicacies have little influence on society2 because they make us regard the greatest trifles3 ,but they are the more engaging1 the more minute the concern is1 and are a proof of the highest merit in any one1 who is capable of them4 ,the passions are so contagious1 that they pass with the greatest facility from one person to another1 and produce correspondent movements in all human breasts4 ,where friendship appears in very signal instances1 my heart catches the same passion1 and is warmed by those warm sentiments1 that display themselves before me4 ,such agreeable movements must give me an affection to every one that excites them4 ,this is the case with every thing that is agreeable in any person4 ,the transition from pleasure to love is easy3 ,but the transition must here be still more easy2 since the agreeable sentiment1 which is excited by sympathy1 is love itself2 and there is nothing required but to change the object4 ,hence the peculiar merit of benevolence in all its shapes and appearances4 ,hence even its weaknesses are virtuous and amiable2 and a person1 whose grief upon the loss of a friend were excessive1 would be esteemed upon that account4 ,his tenderness bestows a merit1 as it does a pleasure1 on his melancholy4 ,we are not1 however1 to imagine1 that all the angry passions are vicious1 though they are disagreeable4 ,there is a certain indulgence due to human nature in this respect4 ,anger and hatred are passions inherent in ,our very frame and constitutions4 ,the want of them1 on some occasions1 may even be a proof of weakness and imbecillity4 ,and where they appear only in a low degree1 we not only excuse them because they are natural2 but even bestow our applauses on them1 because they are inferior to what appears in the greatest part of mankind4 ,where these angry passions rise up to cruelty1 they form the most detested of all vices4 ,all the pity and concern which we have for the miserable sufferers by this vice1 turns against the person guilty of it1 and produces a stronger hatred than we are sensible of on any other occasion4 ,even when the vice of inhumanity rises not to this extreme degree1 our sentiments concerning it are very much influenced by reflections on the harm that results from it4 ,and we may observe in general1 that if we can find any quality in a person1 which renders him incommodious to those1 who live and converse with him1 we always allow it to be a fault or blemish1 without any farther examination4 ,on the other hand1 when we enumerate the good qualities of any person1 we always mention those parts of his character1 which render him a safe companion1 an easy friend1 a gentle master1 an agreeable husband1 or an indulgent father4 ,we consider him with all his relations in society2 and love or hate him1 according as he affects those1 who have any immediate intercourse with him4 ,and it is a most certain rule1 that if there be no relation of life1 in which ,i could not wish to stand to a particular person1 his character must so far be allowed to be perfect4 ,if he be as little wanting to himself as to others1 his character is entirely perfect4 ,this is the ultimate test of merit and virtue4 ,,sect4 ,,iv ,,of ,,natural ,,abilities ,no distinction is more usual in all systems of ethics1 than that betwixt natural abilities and moral virtues2 where the former are placed on the same footing with bodily endowments1 and are supposed to have no merit or moral worth annexed to them4 ,whoever considers the matter accurately1 will find1 that a dispute upon this head would be merely a dispute of words1 and that though these qualities are not altogether of the same kind1 yet they agree in the most material circumstances4 ,they are both of them equally mental qualities3 ,and both of them equally produce pleasure2 and have of course an equal tendency to procure the love and esteem of mankind4 ,there are few1 who are not as jealous of their character1 with regard to sense and knowledge1 as to honour and courage2 and much more than with regard to temperance and sobriety4 ,men are even afraid of passing for goodnatured2 lest that should be taken for want of understanding3 ,and often boast of more debauches than they have been really engaged in1 to give themselves airs of fire and spirit4 ,in short1 the figure a man makes in the world1 the reception he meets with in company1 the esteem paid him by his acquaintance2 all these advantages depend almost as much upon his good sense and judgment1 as upon any other part of his character4 ,let a man have the best intentions in the world1 and be the farthest from all injustice and violence1 he will never be able to make himself be much regarded without a moderate share1 at least1 of parts and understanding4 ,since then natural abilities1 though1 perhaps1 inferior1 yet are on the same footing1 both as to their causes and effects1 with those qualities which we call moral virtues1 why should we make any distinction betwixt them8 ,though we refuse to natural abilities the title of virtues1 we must allow1 that they procure the love and esteem of mankind2 that they give a new lustre to the other virtues2 and that a man possessed of them is much more intitled to our good-will and services1 than one entirely void of them4 ,it may1 indeed1 be pretended that the sentiment of approbation1 which those qualities produce1 besides its being inferior1 is also somewhat different from that1 which attends the other virtues4 ,but this1 in my opinion1 is not a sufficient reason for excluding them from the catalogue of virtues4 ,each of the virtues1 even benevolence1 justice1 gratitude1 integrity1 excites a different sentiment or feeling in the spectator4 ,the characters of ,caesar and ,cato1 as drawn by ,sallust1 are both of them virtuous1 in the strictest sense of the word2 but in a different way3 ,nor are the sentiments entirely the same1 which arise from them4 ,the one produces love2 the other esteem3 ,the one is amiable2 the other awful3 ,we could wish to meet with the one character in a friend2 the other character we would be ambitious of in ourselves4 ,in like manner1 the approbation which attends natural abilities1 may be somewhat different to the feeling from that1 which arises from the other virtues1 without making them entirely of a different species4 ,and indeed we may observe1 that the natural abilities1 no more than the other virtues1 produce not1 all of them1 the same kind of approbation4 ,good sense and genius beget esteem3 ,wit and humour excite love4#f #f ,love and esteem are at the bottom the same passions1 and arise from like causes4 ,the qualities1 that produce both1 are agreeable1 and give pleasure4 ,but where this pleasure is severe and serious2 or where its object is great1 and makes a strong impression2 or where it produces any degree of humility and awe3 ,in all these cases1 the passion1 which arises from the pleasure1 is more properly denominated esteem than love4 ,benevolence attends both3 ,but is connected with love in a more eminent degree4 ,those1 who represent the distinction betwixt natural abilities and moral virtues as very material1 may say1 that the former are entirely involuntary1 and have therefore no merit attending them1 as having no dependance on liberty and free-will4 ,but to this ,i answer1 first1 that many of those qualities1 which all moralists1 especially the antients1 comprehend under the title of moral virtues1 are equally involuntary and necessary1 with the qualities of the judgment and imagination4 ,of this nature are constancy1 fortitude1 magnanimity2 and1 in short1 all the qualities which form the great man4 ,i might say the same1 in some degree1 of the others2 it being almost impossible for the mind to change its character in any considerable article1 or cure itself of a passionate or splenetic temper1 when they are natural to it4 ,the greater degree there is of these blameable qualities1 the more vicious they become1 and yet they are the less voluntary4 ,secondly1 ,i would have anyone give me a reason1 why virtue and vice may not be involuntary1 as well as beauty and deformity4 ,these moral distinctions arise from the natural distinctions of pain and pleasure2 and when we receive those feelings from the general consideration of any quality or character1 we denominate it vicious or virtuous4 ,now ,i believe no one will assert1 that a quality can never produce pleasure or pain to the person who considers it1 unless it be perfectly voluntary in the person who possesses it4 ,thirdly1 ,as to free-will1 we have shewn that it has no place with regard to the actions1 no more than the qualities of men4 ,it is not a just consequence1 that what is voluntary is free4 ,our actions are more voluntary than our judgments2 but we have not more liberty in the one than in the other4 ,but though this distinction betwixt voluntary and involuntary be not sufficient to justify the distinction betwixt natural abilities and moral virtues1 yet the former distinction will afford us a plausible reason1 why moralists have invented the latter4 ,men have observed1 that though natural abilities and moral qualities be in the main on the same footing1 there is1 however1 this difference betwixt them1 that the former are almost invariable by any art or industry2 while the latter1 or at least1 the actions1 that proceed from them1 may be changed by the motives of rewards and punishments1 praise and blame4 ,hence legislators1 and divines1 and moralists1 have principally applied themselves to the regulating these voluntary actions1 and have endeavoured to produce additional motives1 for being virtuous in that particular4 ,they knew1 that to punish a man for folly1 or exhort him to be prudent and sagacious1 would have but little effect2 though the same punishments and exhortations1 with regard to justice and injustice1 might have a considerable influence4 ,but as men1 in common life and conversation1 do not carry those ends in view1 but naturally praise or blame whatever pleases or displeases them1 they do not seem much to regard this distinction1 but consider prudence under the character of virtue as well as benevolence1 and penetration as well as justice4 ,nay1 we find1 that all moralists1 whose judgment is not perverted by a strict adherence to a system1 enter into the same way of thinking2 and that the antient moralists in particular made no scruple of placing prudence at the head of the cardinal virtues4 ,there is a sentiment of esteem and approbation1 which may be excited1 in some degree1 by any faculty of the mind1 in its perfect state and condition2 and to account for this sentiment is the business of ,philosophers4 ,it belongs to ,grammarians to examine what qualities are entitled to the denomination of virtue2 nor will they find1 upon trial1 that this is so easy a task1 as at first sight they may be apt to imagine4 ,the principal reason why natural abilities are esteemed1 is because of their tendency to be useful to the person1 who is possessed of them4 ,it is impossible to execute any design with success1 where it is not conducted with prudence and discretion2 nor will the goodness of our intentions alone suffice to procure us a happy issue to our enterprizes4 ,men are superior to beasts principally by the superiority of their reason2 and they are the degrees of the same faculty1 which set such an infinite difference betwixt one man and another4 ,all the advantages of art are owing to human reason2 and where fortune is not very capricious1 the most considerable part of these advantages must fall to the share of the prudent and sagacious4 ,when it is asked1 whether a quick or a slow apprehension be most valuable8 whether one1 that at first view penetrates into a subject1 but can perform nothing upon study2 or a contrary character1 which must work out every thing by dint of application8 whether a clear head1 or a copious invention8 whether a profound genius1 or a sure judgment8 in short1 what character1 or peculiar understanding1 is more excellent than another8 ,it is evident we can answer none of these questions1 without considering which of those qualities capacitates a man best for the world1 and carries him farthest in any of his undertakings4 ,there are many other qualities of the mind1 whose merit is derived from the same origin1 industry1 perseverance1 patience1 activity1 vigilance1 application1 constancy1 with other virtues of that kind1 which it will be easy to recollect1 are esteemed valuable upon no other account1 than their advantage in the conduct of life4 ,it is the same case with temperance1 frugality1 economy1 resolution3 ,as on the other hand1 prodigality1 luxury1 irresolution1 uncertainty1 are vicious1 merely because they draw ruin upon us1 and incapacitate us for business and action4 ,as wisdom and good-sense are valued1 because they are useful to the person possessed of them2 so wit and eloquence are valued1 because they are immediately agreeable to others4 ,on the other hand1 good humour is loved and esteemed1 because it is immediately agreeable to the person himself4 ,it is evident1 that the conversation of a man of wit is very satisfactory2 as a chearful good-humoured companion diffuses a joy over the whole company1 from a sympathy with his gaiety4 ,these qualities1 therefore1 being agreeable1 they naturally beget love and esteem1 and answer to all the characters of virtue4 ,it is difficult to tell1 on many occasions1 what it is that renders one man's conversation so agreeable and entertaining1 and another's so insipid and distasteful4 ,as conversation is a transcript of the mind as well as books1 the same qualities1 which render the one valuable1 must give us an esteem for the other4 ,this we shall consider afterwards4 ,in the mean time it may be affirmed in general1 that all the merit a man may derive from his conversation 7which1 no doubt1 may be very considerable7 arises from nothing but the pleasure it conveys to those who are present4 ,in this view1 cleanliness is also to be regarded as a virtue2 since it naturally renders us agreeable to others1 and is a very considerable source of love and affection4 ,no one will deny1 that a negligence in this particular is a fault2 and as faults are nothing but smaller vices1 and this fault can have no other origin than the uneasy sensation1 which it excites in others1 we may in this instance1 seemingly so trivial1 dearly discover the origin of the moral distinction of vice and virtue in other instances4 ,besides all those qualities1 which render a person lovely or valuable1 there is also a certain ,,je-,,ne-,,sais-,,quoi of agreeable and handsome1 that concurs to the same effect4 ,in this case1 as well as in that of wit and eloquence1 we must have recourse to a certain sense1 which acts without reflection1 and regards not the tendencies of qualities and characters4 ,some moralists account for all the sentiments of virtue by this sense4 ,their hypothesis is very plausible4 ,nothing but a particular enquiry can give the preference to any other hypothesis4 ,when we find1 that almost all the virtues have such particular tendencies2 and also find1 that these tendencies are sufficient alone to give a strong sentiment of approbation3 ,we cannot doubt1 after this1 that qualities are approved of1 in proportion to the advantage1 which results from them4 ,the decorum or indecorum of a quality1 with regard to the age1 or character1 or station1 contributes also to its praise or blame4 ,this decorum depends1 in a great measure1 upon experience4 ,it is usual to see men lose their levity1 as they advance in years4 ,such a degree of gravity1 therefore1 and such years1 are connected together in our thoughts4 ,when we observe them separated in any person's character1 this imposes a kind of violence on our imagination1 and is disagreeable4 ,that faculty of the soul1 which1 of all others1 is of the least consequence to the character1 and has the least virtue or vice in its several degrees1 at the same time1 that it admits of a great variety of degrees1 is the memory4 ,unless it rise up to that stupendous height as to surprize us1 or sink so low as1 in some measure1 to affect the judgment1 we commonly take no notice of its variations1 nor ever mention them to the praise or dispraise of any person4 ,it is so far from being a virtue to have a good memory1 that men generally affect to complain of a bad one2 and endeavouring to persuade the world1 that what they say is entirely of their own invention1 sacrifice it to the praise of genius and judgment4 ,yet to consider the matter abstractedly1 it would be difficult to give a reason1 why the faculty of recalling past ideas with truth and clearness1 should not have as much merit in it1 as the faculty of placing our present ideas1 in such an order1 as to form true propositions and opinions4 ,the reason of the difference certainly must be1 that the memory is exerted without any sensation of pleasure or pain2 and in all its middling degrees serves almost equally well in business and affairs4 ,but the least variations in the judgment are sensibly felt in their consequences2 while at the same time that faculty is never exerted in any eminent degree1 without an extraordinary delight and satisfaction4 ,the sympathy with this utility and pleasure bestows a merit on the understanding2 and the absence of it makes us consider the memory as a faculty very indifferent to blame or praise4 ,before ,i leave this subject of natural abilities1 ,i must observe1 that1 perhaps1 one source of the esteem and affection1 which attends them1 is derived from the importance and weight1 which they bestow on the person possessed of them4 ,he becomes of greater consequence in life4 ,his resolutions and actions affect a greater number of his fellow-creatures4 ,both his friendship and enmity are of moment4 ,and it is easy to observe1 that whoever is elevated1 after this manner1 above the rest of mankind1 must excite in us the sentiments of esteem and approbation4 ,whatever is important engages our attention1 fixes our thought1 and is contemplated with satisfaction4 ,the histories of kingdoms are more interesting than domestic stories3 ,the histories of great empires more than those of small cities and principalities3 ,and the histories of wars and revolutions more than those of peace and order4 ,we sympathize with the persons that suffer1 in all the various sentiments which belong to their fortunes4 ,the mind is occupied by the multitude of the objects1 and by the strong passions1 that display themselves4 ,and this occupation or agitation of the mind is commonly agreeable and amusing4 ,the same theory accounts for the esteem and regard we pay to men of extraordinary parts and abilities4 ,the good and ill of multitudes are connected with their actions4 ,whatever they undertake is important1 and challenges our attention4 ,nothing is to be over-looked and despised1 that regards them4 ,and where any person can excite these sentiments1 he soon acquires our esteem2 unless other circumstances of his character render him odious and disagreeable4 ,,sect4 ,v ,,some ,,farther ,,reflections ,,concerning ,,the ,,natural ,,virtues ,it has been observed1 in treating of the passions1 that pride and humility1 love and hatred1 are excited by any advantages or disadvantages of the mind1 body1 or fortune2 and that these advantages or disadvantages have that effect by producing a separate impression of pain or pleasure4 ,the pain or pleasure1 which arises from the general survey or view of any action or quality of the mind1 constitutes its vice or virtue1 and gives rise to our approbation or blame1 which is nothing but a fainter and more imperceptible love or hatred4 ,we have assigned four different sources of this pain and pleasure2 and in order to justify more fully that hypothesis1 it may here be proper to observe1 that the advantages or disadvantages of the body and of fortune1 produce a pain or pleasure from the very same principles4 ,the tendency of any object to be useful to the person possessed of it1 or to others2 to convey pleasure to him or to others2 all these circumstances convey an immediate pleasure to the person1 who considers the object1 and command his love and approbation4 ,to begin with the advantages of the body2 we may observe a phnomenon1 which might appear somewhat trivial and ludicrous1 if any thing could be trivial1 which fortified a conclusion of such importance1 or ludicrous1 which was employed in a philosophical reasoning4 ,it is a general remark1 that those we call good women's men1 who have either signalized themselves by their amorous exploits1 or whose make of body promises any extraordinary vigour of that kind1 are well received by the fair sex1 and naturally engage the affections even of those1 whose virtue prevents any design of ever giving employment to those talents4 ,here it is evident1 that the ability of such a person to give enjoyment1 is the real source of that love and esteem he meets with among the females2 at the same time that the women1 who love and esteem him1 have no prospect of receiving that enjoyment themselves1 and can only be affected by means of their sympathy with one1 that has a commerce of love with him4 ,this instance is singular1 and merits our attention4 ,another source of the pleasure we receive from considering bodily advantages1 is their utility to the person himself1 who is possessed of them4 ,it is certain1 that a considerable part of the beauty of men1 as well as of other animals1 consists in such a conformation of members1 as we find by experience to be attended with strength and agility1 and to capacitate the creature for any action or exercise4 ,broad shoulders1 a lank belly1 firm joints1 taper legs2 all these are beautiful in our species because they are signs of force and vigour1 which being advantages we naturally sympathize with1 they convey to the beholder a share of that satisfaction they produce in the possessor4 ,so far as to the utility1 which may attend any quality of the body4 ,as to the immediate pleasure1 it is certain1 that an air of health1 as well as of strength and agility1 makes a considerable part of beauty2 and that a sickly air in another is always disagreeable1 upon account of that idea of pain and uneasiness1 which it conveys to us4 ,on the other hand1 we are pleased with the regularity of our own features1 though it be neither useful to ourselves nor others2 and it is necessary at a distance1 to make it convey to us any satisfaction4 ,we commonly consider ourselves as we appear in the eyes of others1 and sympathize with the advantageous sentiments they entertain with regard to us4 ,how far the advantages of fortune produce esteem and approbation from the same principles1 we may satisfy ourselves by reflecting on our precedent reasoning on that subject4 ,we have observed1 that our approbation of those1 who are possessed of the advantages of fortune1 may be ascribed to three different causes4 ,first1 ,to that immediate pleasure1 which a rich man gives us1 by the view of the beautiful cloaths1 equipage1 gardens1 or houses1 which he possesses4 ,secondly1 ,to the advantage1 which we hope to reap from him by his generosity and liberality4 ,thirdly1 ,to the pleasure and advantage1 which he himself reaps from his possessions1 and which produce an agreeable sympathy in us4 ,whether we ascribe our esteem of the rich and great to one or all of these causes1 we may clearly see the traces of those principles1 which give rise to the sense of vice and virtue4 ,i believe most people1 at first sight1 will be inclined to ascribe our esteem of the rich to self-interest1 and the prospect of advantage4 ,but as it is certain1 that our esteem or deference extends beyond any prospect of advantage to ourselves1 it is evident1 that that sentiment must proceed from a sympathy with those1 who are dependent on the person we esteem and respect1 and who have an immediate connexion with him4 ,we consider him as a person capable of contributing to the happiness or enjoyment of his fellow-creatures1 whose sentiments1 with regard to him1 we naturally embrace4 ,and this consideration will serve to justify my hypothesis in preferring the third principle to the other two1 and ascribing our esteem of the rich to a sympathy with the pleasure and advantage1 which they themselves receive from their possessions4 ,for as even the other two principles cannot operate to a due extent1 or account for all the phaenomena1 without having recourse to a sympathy of one kind or other2 it is much more natural to chuse that sympathy1 which is immediate and direct1 than that which is remote and indirect4 ,to which we may add1 that where the riches or power are very great1 and render the person considerable and important in the world1 the esteem attending them1 may1 in part1 be ascribed to another source1 distinct from these three1 viz4 their interesting the mind by a prospect of the multitude1 and importance of their consequences3 ,though1 in order to account for the operation of this principle1 we must also have recourse to sympathy2 as we have observed in the preceding section4 ,it may not be amiss1 on this occasion1 to remark the flexibility of our sentiments1 and the several changes they so readily receive from the objects1 with which they are conjoined4 ,all the sentiments of approbation1 which attend any particular species of objects1 have a great resemblance to each other1 though derived from different sources2 and1 on the other hand1 those sentiments1 when directed to different objects1 are different to the feeling1 though derived from the same source4 ,thus the beauty of all visible objects causes a pleasure pretty much the same1 though it be sometimes derived from the mere species and appearance of the objects2 sometimes from sympathy1 and an idea of their utility4 ,in like manner1 whenever we survey the actions and characters of men1 without any particular interest in them1 the pleasure1 or pain1 which arises from the survey 7with some minute differences7 is1 in the main1 of the same kind1 though perhaps there be a great diversity in the causes1 from which it is derived4 ,on the other hand1 a convenient house1 and a virtuous character1 cause not the same feeling of approbation2 even though the source of our approbation be the same1 and flow from sympathy and an idea of their utility4 ,there is something very inexplicable in this variation of our feelings2 but it is what we have experience of with regard to all our passions and sentiments4 ,,sect4 ,,vi ,,conclusion ,,of ,,this ,,book ,thus upon the whole ,i am hopeful1 that nothing is wanting to an accurate proof of this system of ethics4 ,we are certain1 that sympathy is a very powerful principle in human nature4 ,we are also certain1 that it has a great influence on our sense of beauty1 when we regard external objects1 as well as when we judge of morals4 ,we find1 that it has force sufficient to give us the strongest sentiments of approbation1 when it operates alone1 without the concurrence of any other principle2 as in the cases of justice1 allegiance1 chastity1 and good-manners4 ,we may observe1 that all the circumstances requisite for its operation are found in most of the virtues2 which have1 for the most part1 a tendency to the good of society1 or to that of the person possessed of them4 ,if we compare all these circumstances1 we shall not doubt1 that sympathy is the chief source of moral distinctions2 especially when we reflect1 that no objection can be raised against this hypothesis in one case1 which will not extend to all cases4 ,justice is certainly approved of for no other reason1 than because it has a tendency to the public good3 ,and the public good is indifferent to us1 except so far as sympathy interests us in it4 ,we may presume the like with regard to all the other virtues1 which have a like tendency to the public good4 ,they must derive all their merit from our sympathy with those1 who reap any advantage from them3 ,as the virtues1 which have a tendency to the good of the person possessed of them1 derive their merit from our sympathy with him4 ,most people will readily allow1 that the useful qualities of the mind are virtuous1 because of their utility4 ,this way of thinking is so natural1 and occurs on so many occasions1 that few will make any scruple of admitting it4 ,now this being once admitted1 the force of sympathy must necessarily be acknowledged4 ,virtue is considered as means to an end4 ,means to an end are only valued so far as the end is valued4 ,but the happiness of strangers affects us by sympathy alone4 ,to that principle1 therefore1 we are to ascribe the sentiment of approbation1 which arises from the survey of all those virtues1 that are useful to society1 or to the person possessed of them4 ,these form the most considerable part of morality4 ,were it proper in such a subject to bribe the reader's assent1 or employ any thing but solid argument1 we are here abundantly supplied with topics to engage the affections4 ,all lovers of virtue 7and such we all are in speculation1 however we may degenerate in practice7 must certainly be pleased to see moral distinctions derived from so noble a source1 which gives us a just notion both of the generosity and capacity of human nature4 ,it requires but very little knowledge of human affairs to perceive1 that a sense of morals is a principle inherent in the soul1 and one of the most powerful that enters into the composition4 ,but this sense must certainly acquire new force1 when reflecting on itself1 it approves of those principles1 from whence it is derived1 and finds nothing but what is great and good in its rise and origin4 ,those who resolve the sense of morals into original instincts of the human mind1 may defend the cause of virtue with sufficient authority2 but want the advantage1 which those possess1 who account for that sense by an extensive sympathy with mankind4 ,according to their system1 not only virtue must be approved of1 but also the sense of virtue3 ,and not only that sense1 but also the principles1 from whence it is derived4 ,so that nothing is presented on any side1 but what is laudable and good4 ,this observation may be extended to justice1 and the other virtues of that kind4 ,though justice be artificial1 the sense of its morality is natural4 ,it is the combination of men1 in a system of conduct1 which renders any act of justice beneficial to society4 ,but when once it has that tendency1 we naturally approve of it2 and if we did not so1 it is impossible any combination or convention could ever produce that sentiment4 ,most of the inventions of men are subject to change4 ,they depend upon humour and caprice4 ,they have a vogue for a time1 and then sink into oblivion4 ,it may1 perhaps1 be apprehended1 that if justice were allowed to be a human invention1 it must be placed on the same footing4 ,but the cases are widely different4 ,the interest1 on which justice is founded1 is the greatest imaginable1 and extends to all times and places4 ,it cannot possibly be served by any other invention4 ,it is obvious1 and discovers itself on the very first formation of society4 ,all these causes render the rules of justice stedfast and immutable2 at least1 as immutable as human nature4 ,and if they were founded on original instincts1 could they have any greater stability8 ,the same system may help us to form a just notion of the happiness1 as well as of the dignity of virtue1 and may interest every principle of our nature in the embracing and cherishing that noble quality4 ,who indeed does not feel an accession of alacrity in his pursuits of knowledge and ability of every kind1 when he considers1 that besides the advantage1 which immediately result from these acquisitions1 they also give him a new lustre in the eyes of mankind1 and are universally attended with esteem and approbation8 ,and who can think any advantages of fortune a sufficient compensation for the least breach of the social virtues1 when he considers1 that not only his character with regard to others1 but also his peace and inward satisfaction entirely depend upon his strict observance of them2 and that a mind will never be able to bear its own survey1 that has been wanting in its part to mankind and society8 ,but ,i forbear insisting on this subject4 ,such reflections require a work apart1 very different from the genius of the present4 ,the anatomist ought never to emulate the painter2 nor in his accurate dissections and portraitures of the smaller parts of the human body1 pretend to give his figures any graceful and engaging attitude or expression4 ,there is even something hideous1 or at least minute in the views of things1 which he presents2 and it is necessary the objects should be set more at a distance1 and be more covered up from sight1 to make them engaging to the eye and imagination4 ,an anatomist1 however1 is admirably fitted to give advice to a painter2 and it is even impracticable to excel in the latter art1 without the assistance of the former4 ,we must have an exact knowledge of the parts1 their situation and connexion1 before we can design with any elegance or correctness4 ,and thus the most abstract speculations concerning human nature1 however cold and unentertaining1 become subservient to practical morality2 and may render this latter science more correct in its precepts1 and more persuasive in its exhortations4 ,,appendix ,there is nothing ,i would more willingly lay hold of1 than an opportunity of confessing my errors2 and should esteem such a return to truth and reason to be more honourable than the most unerring judgment4 ,a man1 who is free from mistakes1 can pretend to no praises1 except from the justness of his understanding3 ,but a man1 who corrects his mistakes1 shews at once the justness of his understanding1 and the candour and ingenuity of his temper4 ,i have not yet been so fortunate as to discover any very considerable mistakes in the reasonings delivered in the preceding volumes1 except on one article3 ,but ,i have found by experience1 that some of my expressions have not been so well chosen1 as to guard against all mistakes in the readers2 and it is chiefly to remedy this defect1 ,i have subjoined the following appendix4 ,we can never be induced to believe any matter of fact1 except where its cause1 or its effect1 is present to us2 but what the nature is of that belief1 which arises from the relation of cause and effect1 few have had the curiosity to ask themselves4 ,in my opinion1 this dilemma is inevitable4 ,either the belief is some new idea1 such as that of reality or existence1 which we join to the simple conception of an object1 or it is merely a peculiar feeling or sentiment4 ,that it is not a new idea1 annexed to the simple conception1 may be evinced from these two arguments4 ,first1 ,we have no abstract idea of existence1 distinguishable and separable from the idea of particular objects4 ,it is impossible1 therefore1 that this idea of existence can be annexed to the idea of any object1 or form the difference betwixt a simple conception and belief4 ,secondly1 ,the mind has the command over all its ideas1 and can separate1 unite1 mix1 and vary them1 as it pleases2 so that if belief consisted merely in a new idea1 annexed to the conception1 it would be in a man's power to believe what he pleased4 ,we may1 therefore1 conclude1 that belief consists merely in a certain feeling or sentiment2 in something1 that depends not on the will1 but must arise from certain determinate causes and principles1 of which we are not masters4 ,when we are convinced of any matter of fact1 we do nothing but conceive it1 along with a certain feeling1 different from what attends the mere reveries of the imagination4 ,and when we express our incredulity concerning any fact1 we mean1 that the arguments for the fact produce not that feeling4 ,did not the belief consist in a sentiment different from our mere conception1 whatever objects were presented by the wildest imagination1 would be on an equal footing with the most established truths founded on history and experience4 ,there is nothing but the feeling1 or sentiment1 to distinguish the one from the other4 ,this1 therefore1 being regarded as an undoubted truth1 that belief is nothing but a peculiar feeling1 different from the simple conception1 the next question1 that naturally occurs1 is1 what is the nature of this feeling1 or sentiment1 and whether it be analogous to any other sentiment of the human mind8 ,this question is important4 ,for if it be not analogous to any other sentiment1 we must despair of explaining its causes1 and must consider it as an original principle of the human mind4 ,if it be analogous1 we may hope to explain its causes from analogy1 and trace it up to more general principles4 ,now that there is a greater firmness and solidity in the conceptions1 which are the objects of conviction and assurance1 than in the loose and indolent reveries of a castle-builder1 every one will readily own4 ,they strike upon us with more force2 they are more present to us2 the mind has a firmer hold of them1 and is more actuated and moved by them4 ,it acquiesces in them2 and1 in a manner1 fixes and reposes itself on them4 ,in short1 they approach nearer to the impressions1 which are immediately present to us2 and are therefore analogous to many other operations of the mind4 ,there is not1 in my opinion1 any possibility of evading this conclusion1 but by asserting1 that belief1 beside the simple conception1 consists in some impression or feeling1 distinguishable from the conception4 ,it does not modify the conception1 and render it more present and intense3 ,it is only annexed to it1 after the same manner that will and desire are annexed to particular conceptions of good and pleasure4 ,but the following considerations will1 ,i hope1 be sufficient to remove this hypothesis4 ,first1 ,it is directly contrary to experience1 and our immediate consciousness4 ,all men have ever allowed reasoning to be merely an operation of our thoughts or ideas2 and however those ideas may be varied to the feeling1 there is nothing ever enters into our conclusions but ideas1 or our fainter conceptions4 ,for instance2 ,i hear at present a person's voice1 whom ,i am acquainted with2 and this sound comes from the next room4 ,this impression of my senses immediately conveys my thoughts to the person1 along with all the surrounding objects4 ,i paint them out to myself as existent at present1 with the same qualities and relations1 that ,i formerly knew them possessed of4 ,these ideas take faster hold of my mind1 than the ideas of an inchanted castle4 ,they are different to the feeling2 but there is no distinct or separate impression attending them4 ,it is the same case when ,i recollect the several incidents of a journey1 or the events of any history4 ,every particular fact is there the object of belief4 ,its idea is modified differently from the loose reveries of a castle-builder3 ,but no distinct impression attends every distinct idea1 or conception of matter of fact4 ,this is the subject of plain experience4 ,if ever this experience can be disputed on any occasion1 it is when the mind has been agitated with doubts and difficulties2 and afterwards1 upon taking the object in a new point of view1 or being presented with a new argument1 fixes and reposes itself in one settled conclusion and belief4 ,in this case there is a feeling distinct and separate from the conception4 ,the passage from doubt and agitation to tranquility and repose1 conveys a satisfaction and pleasure to the mind4 ,but take any other case4 ,suppose ,i see the legs and thighs of a person in motion1 while some interposed object conceals the rest of his body4 ,here it is certain1 the imagination spreads out the whole figure4 ,i give him a head and shoulders1 and breast and neck4 ,these members ,i conceive and believe him to be possessed of4 ,nothing can be more evident1 than that this whole operation is performed by the thought or imagination alone4 ,the transition is immediate4 ,the ideas presently strike us4 ,their customary connexion with the present impression1 varies them and modifies them in a certain manner1 but produces no act of the mind1 distinct from this peculiarity of conception4 ,let any one examine his own mind1 and he will evidently find this to be the truth4 ,secondly1 ,whatever may be the case1 with regard to this distinct impression1 it must be allowed1 that the mind has a firmer hold1 or more steady conception of what it takes to be matter of fact1 than of fictions4 ,why then look any farther1 or multiply suppositions without necessity8 ,thirdly1 ,we can explain the causes of the firm conception1 but not those of any separate impression4 ,and not only so1 but the causes of the firm conception exhaust the whole subject1 and nothing is left to produce any other effect4 ,an inference concerning a matter of fact is nothing but the idea of an object1 that is frequently conjoined1 or is associated with a present impression4 ,this is the whole of it4 ,every part is requisite to explain1 from analogy1 the more steady conception2 and nothing remains capable of producing any distinct impression4 ,fourthly1 ,the effects of belief1 in influencing the passions and imagination1 can all be explained from the firm conception2 and there is no occasion to have recourse to any other principle4 ,these arguments1 with many others1 enumerated in the foregoing volumes1 sufficiently prove1 that belief only modifies the idea or conception2 and renders it different to the feeling1 without producing any distinct impression4 ,thus upon a general view of the subject1 there appear to be two questions of importance1 which we may venture to recommend to the consideration of philosophers1 ,whether there be any thing to distinguish belief from the simple conception beside the feeling of sentiment8 ,and1 ,whether this feeling be any thing but a firmer conception1 or a faster hold1 that we take of the object8 ,if1 upon impartial enquiry1 the same conclusion1 that ,i have formed1 be assented to by philosophers1 the next business is to examine the analogy1 which there is betwixt belief1 and other acts of the mind1 and find the cause of the firmness and strength of conception3 ,and this ,i do not esteem a difficult task4 ,the transition from a present impression1 always enlivens and strengthens any idea4 ,when any object is presented1 the idea of its usual attendant immediately strikes us1 as something real and solid4 ,it is felt1 rather than conceived1 and approaches the impression1 from which it is derived1 in its force and influence4 ,this ,i have proved at large4 ,i cannot add any new arguments4 ,i had entertained some hopes1 that however deficient our theory of the intellectual world might be1 it would be free from those contradictions1 and absurdities1 which seem to attend every explication1 that human reason can give of the material world4 ,but upon a more strict review of the section concerning personal identity1 ,i find myself involved in such a labyrinth1 that1 ,i must confess1 ,i neither know how to correct my former opinions1 nor how to render them consistent4 ,if this be not a good general reason for scepticism1 it is at least a sufficient one 7if ,i were not already abundantly supplied7 for me to entertain a diffidence and modesty in all my decisions4 ,i shall propose the arguments on both sides1 beginning with those that induced me to deny the strict and proper identity and simplicity of a self or thinking being4 ,when we talk of self or substance1 we must have an idea annexed to these terms1 otherwise they are altogether unintelligible4 ,every idea is derived from preceding impressions2 and we have no impression of self or substance1 as something simple and individual4 ,we have1 therefore1 no idea of them in that sense4 ,whatever is distinct1 is distinguishable2 and whatever is distinguishable1 is separable by the thought or imagination4 ,all perceptions are distinct4 ,they are1 therefore1 distinguishable1 and separable1 and may be conceived as separately existent1 and may exist separately1 without any contradiction or absurdity4 ,when ,i view this table and that chimney1 nothing is present to me but particular perceptions1 which are of a like nature with all the other perceptions4 ,this is the doctrine of philosophers4 ,but this table1 which is present to me1 and the chimney1 may and do exist separately4 ,this is the doctrine of the vulgar1 and implies no contradiction4 ,there is no contradiction1 therefore1 in extending the same doctrine to all the perceptions4 ,in general1 the following reasoning seems satisfactory4 ,all ideas are borrowed from preceding perceptions4 ,our ideas of objects1 therefore1 are derived from that source4 ,consequently no proposition can be intelligible or consistent with regard to objects1 which is not so with regard to perceptions4 ,but it is intelligible and consistent to say1 that objects exist distinct and independent1 without any common simple substance or subject of inhesion4 ,this proposition1 therefore1 can never be absurd with regard to perceptions4 ,when ,i turn my reflection on myself1 ,i never can perceive this self without some one or more perceptions2 nor can ,i ever perceive any thing but the perceptions4 ,it is the composition of these1 therefore1 which forms the self4 ,we can conceive a thinking being to have either many or few perceptions4 ,suppose the mind to be reduced even below the life of an oyster4 ,suppose it to have only one perception1 as of thirst or hunger4 ,consider it in that situation4 ,do you conceive any thing but merely that perception8 ,have you any notion of self or substance8 ,if not1 the addition of other perceptions can never give you that notion4 ,the annihilation1 which some people suppose to follow upon death1 and which entirely destroys this self1 is nothing but an extinction of all particular perceptions2 love and hatred1 pain and pleasure1 thought and sensation4 ,these therefore must be the same with self2 since the one cannot survive the other4 ,is self the same with substance8 ,if it be1 how can that question have place1 concerning the subsistence of self1 under a change of substance8 ,if they be distinct1 what is the difference betwixt them8 ,for my part1 ,i have a notion of neither1 when conceived distinct from particular perceptions4 ,philosophers begin to be reconciled to the principle1 that we have no idea of external substance1 distinct from the ideas of particular qualities4 ,this must pave the way for a like principle with regard to the mind1 that we have no notion of it1 distinct from the particular perceptions4 ,so far ,i seem to be attended with sufficient evidence4 ,but having thus loosened all our particular perceptions1 when ,i proceed to explain the principle of connexion1 which binds them together1 and makes us attribute to them a real simplicity and identity2 ,i am sensible1 that my account is very defective1 and that nothing but the seeming evidence of the precedent reasonings could have induced me to receive it4 ,if perceptions are distinct existences1 they form a whole only by being connected together4 ,but no connexions among distinct existences are ever discoverable by human understanding4 ,we only feel a connexion or determination of the thought1 to pass from one object to another4 ,it follows1 therefore1 that the thought alone finds personal identity1 when reflecting on the train of past perceptions1 that compose a mind1 the ideas of them are felt to be connected together1 and naturally introduce each other4 ,however extraordinary this conclusion may seem1 it need not surprize us4 ,most philosophers seem inclined to think1 that personal identity arises from consciousness2 and consciousness is nothing but a reflected thought or perception4 ,the present philosophy1 therefore1 has so far a promising aspect4 ,but all my hopes vanish1 when ,i come to explain the principles1 that unite our successive perceptions in our thought or consciousness4 ,i cannot discover any theory1 which gives me satisfaction on this head4 ,in short there are two principles1 which ,i cannot render consistent2 nor is it in my power to renounce either of them1 viz1 that all our distinct perceptions are distinct existences1 and that the mind never perceives any real connexion among distinct existences4 ,did our perceptions either inhere in something simple and individual1 or did the mind perceive some real connexion among them1 there would be no difficulty in the case4 ,for my part1 ,i must plead the privilege of a sceptic1 and confess1 that this difficulty is too hard for my understanding4 ,i pretend not1 however1 to pronounce it absolutely insuperable4 ,others1 perhaps1 or myself1 upon more mature reflections1 may discover some hypothesis1 that will reconcile those contradictions4 ,i shall also take this opportunity of confessing two other errors of less importance1 which more mature reflection has discovered to me in my reasoning4 ,the first may be found in ,vol4 ,i4 page #ajf4 where ,i say1 that the distance betwixt two bodies is known1 among other things1 by the angles1 which the rays of light flowing from the bodies make with each other4 ,it is certain1 that these angles are not known to the mind1 and consequently can never discover the distance4 ,the second error may be found in ,vol4 ,i4 page #add where ,i say1 that two ideas of the same object can only be different by their different degrees of force and vivacity4 ,i believe there are other differences among ideas1 which cannot properly be comprehended under these terms4 ,had ,i said1 that two ideas of the same object can only be different by their different feeling1 ,i should have been nearer the truth4