DavidHume-AnEnquiryConcerningHumanUnderstanding(Grea

GREAT

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OF

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WORLD

ROBERT

MAYNARD

HUTCHINS, EDITOR

IN

CHIEF

LOCKE

BERKELEY

HUME

MORTIMER

J.

ADLER,

Associate

Editor

Members

_of

the_Advisory

Board:

STRINGFELLOW BARR,

SCOTT BUCHANAN,

JOHN

ERSKHSTE,

CLARENCE

H.

FAUST,

ALEXANDER MEKLEJOHN,

JOSEPH

J.

SCHWAB,

MARK

VAN

DOREN,

Editorial Consultants:

A,

R

B.

_CLARK,

F. L.

_LUCAS,

WALTER

MURDOCH.

is

_reprinted

_by

_{arrangement with D.}

_{APPLETON-CENTURY}

_COMPANY,

_ING.

Copyright,

1937,

by

D.

APPLETON-CENTURY

COMPANY,

INC.

An

_Essay

_Concerning

Human

_{Understanding^}

_by

_John

_Locke,

is

_reprinted

from

the edition collated

and

annotated

by

Alexander

_Campbell

Fraser

and

_published

t>y

OXFORD

UNIVERSITY PRESS

An

_Enquiry

_Concerning

Human

_{Understanding,}

_{by David}

_Hume,

edited

_by

L.

_{A. Selby-Bigge,}

is

_reprinted

_by

_{arrangement with}

_OXFORD

_{UNIVERSITY PRESS}

COPYRIGHT

IN

THE

UNITED

STATES

OP

_{AMERICA, 1952,}

BY

_{ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRTTANNICA,}

INC.

UNDER

INTERNATIONAL

COGHT

_UNION

_BY

BRITANNICA,

B*C.

AlX

_RIGHTS

_RESERVED

_{UNDER PAN}

AMERICAN

GENERAL CONTENTS

A

LETTER

CONCERNING

TOLERATION,

Page

i

CONCERNING

CIVIL

_GOVERNMENT,

SECOND

ESSAY,

Page 25

AN

ESSAY

CONCERNING

HUMAN

UNDERSTANDING,

Page 85

By JOHN LOCKE

THE

PRINCIPLES

OF

HUMAN

KNOWLEDGE,

Page

403

By GEORGE

BERKELEY

AN

_ENQUIRY

CONCERNING

HUMAN

UNDERSTANDING,

Page

451

AN

_ENQUIRY

CONCERNING

HUMAN

BIOGRAPHICAL

NOTE

DAVID HUME,

1711-1776

HUME

was born

at

_{Edinburgh on}

_April26,1₇1 1,

the

_younger

sonina

_good

_{but not wealthy}

fam-ily.Hisfather,

"who

passedfor

a

man

of parts,"

died

when

Hume

was

stillachild,

and he was

brought

up

by

his

mother

atthe_familyestateof

Ninewells,near Berwick.

About

1₇₂₃

he

entered

theUniversityofEdinburgh, and, accordingto

his_{Autobiography,"passed through the ordinary}

course ofeducation with success." His letters

show

that

when

he returnedtoNinewells about

three yearslater

he

had

_acquired

a

fair

knowl-edgeof Latin, slightacquaintance with Greek,

and a

literary tasteinclining to "booksof

rea-soning

and

philosophy,

and

to _poetry

and

the

politeauthors."Hisstudious disposition ledhis

familyto believethat

law

was

the proper

pro-fessionfor_{him, but}

he

"found

an

insurmount-able aversion to_{everything butthe pursuits of}

philosophy

and

general learning;

and

while

they fanciedI

was

_poring

_upon

Voet

and

Vin-nius, Cicero

and

Virgil

were

theauthors

which

I

was

secretlydevouring."

A

too "ardent _application" to his studies

threatenedhishealth,

and

in 1_734,determined

to trya complete

change

ofscene

and

occupa-tion,

Hume

entered abusinesshouseinBristol.

In a

few months

he found "the scene _totally

unsuitable,"

and he

setoutforFrance,resolved

"to

make

a veryrigidfrugalitysupply

my

defi-ciencyof fortune, tomaintain

unimpaired

my

independency,

and

to regard every object as

contemptible, except the

improvement

of

_my

talentsinliterature."

He

visited Paris, resided

for

a

timeat

_{Rheims, and}

then settled at

La

FISche,

where

Descartes

had gone

to school.

During

his_{three years in}France he wrote the

TreatiseofHitmanNature,

and

in _{1737 returned} to

London

toattend toits publication. It

ap-pearedin three

volumes

during 1

739-40.

Con-trary to his _{expectations,} his first effort "fell

dead-born

from

the_press,without reaching such

distinction as

even

toexcite

a

murmur

_among

the zealots."

Upon

thefailureofhis

book

Hume

retired to

Ninewells

and

devoted_{himself to study,}mainly

in_politics

and

economics. In 1741

he

published thefirst

volume

ofhis_Essays,

Moral

andPolitical,

which

_{enjoyed such}successthat a second

edi-tion

was

_{brought outthe following year.}

At

that

time he alsoissued a second

volume

ofessays.

He

continuedtolookaboutfora_{position that}

would

secure

him

_{independence,}

and

in ₁₇₄₄

triedhard toobtainthe chair of

moral

philos-ophy

at_{Edinburgh. Failing in}this_attempt,

he

accepted the post of tutor to the

Marquis

of

Annandale,

who

had

been declared a lunatic

by

thecourt.

_Upon

his dismissal _{a year}later,

Hume

accepted theofficeofsecretary to

Gen-eral St. Clair,

a

distant_relative,

who

was

en-gaged

in

an

_"expedition

which

was

at first

meant

_against

Canada,

but

ended

in

an

incur-sion

on

the coast ofFrance."After thefailureof

thisventurehe

_accompanied

_{the general}

on a

"military

embassy

to thecourtsof

Vienna

and

Turin"

on which

he

"wore

theuniform of

an

officer

and was

introduced at these courts as

aide-de-campto_{the general."}

He

remarksthat

these

two

_{years (1746-48),}"almostthe_only

in-terruption

which

my

studies

have

received

dur-ingthe course of

my

life,"enabled

him

toreturn

toScotland"masterofnear

a

_{thousand pounds,"}

During

hisabsence

_{from England}

in1₇₄₈his

Philosophical Essays

was

published. Afterwards

entitled

An

_{Enquiryconcerning}

Human

Understand"

ing, it

was

a_{re-casting of the} first_partofthe

Treatise

_{by which}

he

_hoped

to_gain

a

_larger

au-dience.

But

thefirst_{reception of the}

work

was

little

more

favorablethanthataccordedtothe

Treatise.In₁₇₅₁here-castthe third

book

ofthe

Treatise

and

_publisheditas

An

_{Enquiryconcerning} the_{Principles of}Morals.

That same

_{year he}

was

againunsuccessful in his _attempt to obtain

a

professor'schair atEdinburgh,thistimeasthe

successor to_{his friend,}

Adam

_Smith,inthechair

of_logic.

The

_{following year, despite accusations}

of heresy,

he

_{received the post}oflibrarian atthe

Advocates' _Library,

_{which though}

smallin

sal-ary providedexcellentfacilities_{for literary}work.

During

his_yearsaslibrarian

Hume

attained

his_{greatest success}asa

man

ofletters.

He

con-tinuedhis_essays

and

in _{1757 brought out the}

Four Dissertations,

one

of

which was

devoted to

the_{Natural Historyof Religion.}

The

Dialogues

con-cerningNaturalReligion

were

alsocompleted,

but

on

the adviceof friends publication

was

post-poned

untilafter hisdeath.

Most

ofhisefforts,

however,

were

devotedto_{the writing of}history,

to

which

he

_may

have turnedhisattention

be-causeofthe success ofhis political

and economic

essays.

Adam

Smith had

recommended

thathe

begin with

Henry

VII, but he chose to start

withthe_periodof

_James

I,

"an

_{epoch when,}

I

thought,the misrepresentations of faction

began

chiefly totake place."

Although

Hume

was

dis-appointed

by

the receptionofthefirstvolume,

which

_appearedin i_753, hisHistoryofEngland

was

well received,

and

within

a

few years it

broughtthe author

a

largerrevenue than

had

ever before been obtainedinhis_country

from

literature.

The

work was

_completed

by

1761,

although

Hume

continuedtoreviseit

through-out most of the

remainder

ofhislife, excising

from

itallthe "villainous seditious

_Whig

strokes"

and

_{"plaguy prejudices of}

_Whiggism"

that he

coulddetect.

Although "not

only independent but

opu-lent.. .

and

determined never

more

to setfoot

outof* his _{native country,}

Hume

in 1763

ac-cepted

an

invitation to

_go

to _{Paris as acting}

secretary of the embassy.

For

three years he

enjoyedParisiansociety.

Meeting

with

men

and

women

ofallranks

and

stations, he noted "the

more

Iresiled

from

theirexcessivecivilities,the

more

I

was

loaded with them."

He

returned

home,

convinced "thereis

a

realsatisfactionin

living at Paris."

Rousseau accompanied

him,

persuaded

by

Hume

toseekshelterin_England.

The

association

was

of short duration;it

ended

in a violent

and

sensational quarrelfor

which

Rousseau

seemsto

have been

largelytoblame.

Hume,

after _{serving as undersecretary} at the

Foreign Officefor_{a year (1767-68), retired to}

Edinburgh,

where he

builthimselfa

new

house,

and

settled

down

"with_{the prospect of enjoying} long

my

ease,

and

of seeing the increase of

_my

reputation."

In

the spring of1₇₇₅

Hume

was

strickenwith

a

troublesome

_though

not_painfulillness.

Pre-paring himselffor

"a

speedy dissolution," he

wrote ashort_{autobiography,}in

which

he

drew

his

own

character."I

_am,"

hewrote,"orrather

was

(for that is the style, I

must

now

use in

speaking of myself;

which emboldens

me

the

more

to speakray sentiments) I_was, I_say, a

man

ofmild_{dispositions,} of

command

of

tem-per,

and

of

an

open, social,

and

cheerful

hu-mour,

capable of attachment, butlittle

suscep-tibleofenmity;

and

of greatmoderationinall

my

passions.

Even

my

love ofliteraryfame,

my

ruling passion, never soured

my

temper,

not-withstanding

my

frequent disappointments."

A

visitto

Bath

in1₇₇₆

seemed

atfirstto re-lieve his _sickness, but

on

the return _journey

more

alarming

symptoms

developed,his_strength

rapidly sank, and, little

more

than a

month

CONTENTS:

CONCERNING

HUMAN

UNDERSTANDING

BIOGRAPHICALNOTE 447

i.

OF

THEDIFFERENT SPECIES OFPHILOSOPHY ₄₅₁

n.

OF

THE ORIGINOF IDEAS 455

m.

OF

THEASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 457

rv. SCEPTICALDOUBTS CONCERNING THE

OP-ERATIONS OFTHE UNDERSTANDING 458

v. SCEPTICALSOLUTION OFTHESEDOUBTS 463

vi.

OF

PROBABILITY 469

vn.

OF

THE IDEA OFNECESSARYCONNEXION 470ft.

vm.

OF

LIBERTY ANDNECESSITY 478

EX.

OF

THE REASON OF ANIMALS 487

x.

OF

MIRACLES 488

XI.

OF

APARTICULAR PROVIDENCE ANDOFA

FUTURE STATE 497

XH.

OF

THE ACADEMICAL ORSCEPTICAL

PHI-LOSOPHY

53

Most ofthe principles,and_reasonings, contained inthis volume, were publishedinaworkinthreevolumes, called

A

Treatiseof

Human

Nature:

A

workwhichthe

Au-thorhad_{projected before} he left College, andwhich he

wroteandpublishednot longafter.Butnot findingit suc-cessful,hewassensibleofhis error in_goingto thepresstoo early,andhecast thewholeanewin thefollowingpieces,

where some_negligencesin his_formerreasoningandmorein the expression,are,hehopes,corrected.Tetseveral writers,

whohavehonouredtheAuthor's Philosophy withanswers,

have taken care todirect all their batteries_against that juvenilework, whichtheAuthornever_{acknowledged,}and

have affectedto _triumph in _anyadvantages, which, they

imagined,theyhadobtained overit:

A

practice very con-traryto allrulesof candourandfair-dealing,andastrong instance_ofthosepolemicalartifices,whichabigotted zeal thinksitselfauthorizedtoemploy. Henceforth, theAuthor

desires,that the_followingPieces_mayalone beregarded as

containinghis philosophical sentimentsandprinciples.

AN

_ENQUIRY

CONCERNING

HUMAN

UNDERSTANDING

Sect. I.

_Of

the_{differentSpecies of Philosophy}

1.

Moral

_{philosophy, or the science}of

human

nature,

may

betreatedafter

two

different

man-ners;each of

which

hasits_{peculiar merit,}

and

may

contribute to the entertainment,

instruc-tion,

and

reformationof

mankind.

The

one

con-siders

man

chieflyasbornforaction;

and

as

in-fluenced inhismeasures

_by

taste

and

sentiment;

pursuing

one

object,

and

avoidinganother,

ac-cordingto thevalue

which

these objects

seem

to

possess,

and

accordingto thelightin

which

they

presentthemselves.

As

virtue,ofall_objects,is

al-lowed

to

be

the

most

valuable, this _{species of}

philosopherspaint herinthe

most

amiable

col-ours;borrowingall_helps

from

poetry

and

elo-quence,

and

treatingtheirsubject hi

an

easy

and

obvious

manner, and

such as is best fitted to

please the imagination,

and

engage the

affec-tions.

They

selectthe

most

_strikingobservations

and

instances

from

common

life;place opposite

characters hia propercontrast;

and

alluringus

into thepaths ofvirtue

by

theviewsof glory

and

happiness,directourstepsinthesepaths

by

the

soundestprecepts

and most

illustriousexamples.

They make

us/w/

the difference

between

vice

and

virtue; theyexcite

and

regulateour

senti-ments;

and

sothey

can

but

bend

ourhearts to

thelove ofprobity

and

truehonour, theythink,

thatthey

have

fullyattainedthe

end

ofalltheir

labours.

2.

The

other_{speciesof philosophers considers}

man

inthelightofa reasonableratherthan

an

active being,

and

endeavoursto

form

his

under-standing

more

thancultivate hismanners.

_They

regard

human

nature as

a

_{subject of}

specula-tion;

and with a narrow

scrutiny

examine

it,in

ordertofind those_principles,

which

regulateour

understanding,exciteoursentiments,

and

make

us

_approve

or

_{blame any}

particularobject, ac-tion,or behaviour.

They

thinkit

a

reproachto

allliterature,thatphilosophy should notyet

have

fixed,beyoiklcontroversy,

thefoundationofmor-als,reasoning,

and

criticism;

and

shouldforever

talkof truth

and

falsehood, vice

and

virtue,

beau-ty

and

deformity, without beingable to

deter-mine

thesource of thesedistinctions.

While

they

attemptthisarduoustask,theyaredeterred

by

no

difficulties;but proceeding

from

particular

instances to generalprinciples,theystill

_{push on}

their_{enquiries to principles}

more

_general,

and

restnotsatisfiedtill_theyarriveat_{those original} principles,

by

which,in_{everyscience,}all

human

curiosity

must

bebounded.

Though

their

spec-ulations

seem

abstract,

and

evenunintelligible

to

common

readers, they

aim

atthe

approba-tionof the learned

and

the wise;

and

think

them-selves sufficiently

compensated

forthelabourof

their

whole

lives, ifthey candiscover

some

hid-den

truths,

which

may

contribute to the

instruc-tion ofposterity.

3.Itiscertain that the_easy

and

obvious

phi-losophywill_always,with_{the generality of}

man-kind,

have

the preference

above

the accurate

and

abstruse;

and by

many

will

be

recommend-ed,not onlyas

more

agreeable,but

more

useful

thanthe other.Itenters

more

into

common

life;

moulds

the heart

and

affections;and,

by

touch-ingthose principles

which

actuate

men,

reforms

their conduct,

and

_brings

them

nearerto that

model

_{of perfection}

which

itdescribes.

On

the

contrary, the abstruse philosophy,being

found-ed

on

a turnof_mind,

which

cannotenter into

business

and

action, vanishes

when

the

philos-opher

leaves the shade,

and comes

into

_open

_day;

norcanits_principleseasilyretain

any

influence

over our conduct

and

behaviour.

The

_feelingsof

our_{heart, the agitation of}our_passions,the

ve-hemence

ofouraffections, dissipateall its

conclu-sions,

and

reducetheprofound philosopherto

a

mere

plebeian.

4.Thisalso

must

beconfessed, thatthe

most

durable, as well asjustestfame,has

been

acquired

by

the_{easyphilosophy,}

and

that abstract

rea-soners

seem

hitherto to

have

enjoyed only

a

mo-mentary

reputation,

from

thecapriceor

452

anceoftheir

own

_age,but

have

not

been

ableto

supporttheir

renown

with

more

_equitable

pos-terity. Itis _easyfor_{a profound philosopher} to

commit

a

mistakeinhis subtile_reasonings;

and

one mistakeis_{the necessaryparent}of another,

while

he

_pushes

on

his_{consequences,}

and

isnot

deterred

from embracing any

conclusion,

by

its

unusual appearance, oritscontradictionto

pop-ular opinion.

But

a

_philosopher,

who

purposes

onlyto represent the

common

senseof

mankind

in

more

beautiful

and more

_engagingcolours,if

by

accident

he

fallsinto_error,goes

no

farther;

but renewinghisappealto

common

sense,

and

thenaturalsentimentsofthemind,returns into

the right path,

and

secures himself

_{from any}

dan-gerousillusions.

The

fame

ofCiceroflourishes at

present;butthat ofAristotleisutterlydecayed.

La

Bruyere passes theseas,

and

still maintains

his_reputation:

But

_{the glory of}

Malebranche

is

confined tohis

own

nation,

and

tohis

own

_age.

And

Addison,perhaps,willbe read with

pleas-ure,

when

Locke

shallbe_{entirely forgotten.}

The

mere

_philosopherisacharacter,

which

is

commonly

butlittle_acceptableinthe world,as

beingsupposedtocontribute_nothingeitherto

the _{advantage orpleasure of}society;while he

livesremote

from communication

with

_mankind,

and

is

_wrapped

_up

_{in principles}

and

notions

equallyremote

from

their _{comprehension.}

On

theotherhand, the

mere

ignorantis still

more

despised;noris_anything

deemed

a_{surer sign of}

an

illiberal_{genius in}

an

_age

and

nation

where

the sciencesflourish,thantobeentirely destitute

ofallrelishforthosenobleentertainments.

The

most

perfect characteris_supposedtolie

between

those_{extremes;retaining}

an

_equalability

and

taste forbooks,

company, and

business;

preserv-ing in conversation thatdiscernment

and

deli-cacy

which

arise

from

_{polite letters;}

and

in

busi-ness,that probity

and

accuracy

which

are the

naturalresultofa_{just philosophy.} In orderto

diffuse

and

cultivatesoaccomplished

a

charac-ter,nothing

can

be

more

useful_than

composi-tionsoftheeasystyle

and manner, which

draw

nottoo

much

from

life,require

no deep

applica-tionor retreat to be

_{comprehended, and}

send

backthestudent

_among

mankind

fullofnoble

sentiments

and

_{wise precepts, applicable to}

ev-ery exigence of

human

life.

_By

means

ofsuch

compositions, virtue

becomes

amiable, science

agreeable,

company

instructive,

and

retirement

entertaining.

Man

isa reasonablebeing;

and

as such,

re-ceives

from

scieiace his_{proper food}

and

nourish-ment:

But

so

narrow

arethe

bounds

of

human

understanding, that little satisfaction

can

be

hoped

for in this_{particular, either}

from

the extent

of security orhis acquisitions.

Man

is

a

sociable,

no

lessthanareasonable_being:

But

neithercan

he always enjoy

company

agreeable

and

amus-ing,or preserve theproperrelishforthem.

Man

is also

an

_{active being;}

and from

that

disposi-tion, aswell as

from

the variousnecessitiesof

hu-man

life,

must

submittobusiness

and

occupa-tion:

But

the

mind

_requires

some

relaxation,

and

cannot always supportitsbenttocare

and

in-dustry. It_{seems, then, thatnature has pointed}

out

a mixed

kindoflifeas

most

suitable to the

human

race,

and

secretly

admonished

them

to

allow

none

of thesebiasses todrawtoo

much,

so

asto_incapacitate

them

forotheroccupations

and

entertainments.Indulgeyourpassionfor science,

saysshe,butlet_yoursciencebe

human,

and

such

as

_may

have a

directreferencetoaction

and

so-ciety.Abstruse thought

and

profoundresearches

I_prohibit,

and

will_{severely punish,}

_by

the

pen-sive _melancholy

which

_theyintroduce,

by

the

endless_uncertaintyin

which

_{theyinvolve you,}

and by

the'_{cold reception}

which

_{your pretended}

discoveriesshall

meet

with,

when

communicat-ed.

Be a

_{philosopher; but,}amidstall_your

phi-losophy, bestilla

man.

5.

Were

the generality of

mankind

contented

to_{prefer theeasy philosophy}tothe abstract

and

profound, without throwing

any blame

or

con-tempt on

thelatter, it

_might

not_{be improper,}

perhaps, to

comply

withthis_{general opinion,}

and

allow every

man

to enjoy,without_opposition,

his

own

taste

and

sentiment.

But

asthematter

isoftencarriedfarther,eventothe absolute

re-jecting ofall _{profound reasonings,} or

what

is

commonly

called_metaphysics,

we

shall

now

pro-ceedtoconsider

what

can reasonably be

plead-ed

intheir behalf.

We

may

begin withobserving, thatone

con-siderable_advantage,

which

results

from

the

ac-curate

and

_{abstract philosophy,}is,its

subservi-ency

totheeasy

and humane;

which, without

the_former,

can

neverattain

a

sufficient_degree

of exactness in its_{sentiments, precepts,}or

rea-sonings. All politeletters arenothing but

pic-tures of

human

lifein various attitudes

and

situ-ations;

and

inspireuswithdifferent sentiments,

of praiseor blame, admiration orridicule,

ac-cordingtothe qualities of theobject,

which

they

setbeforeus.

An

artist

must

be_{better qualified}

tosucceedin this_undertaking,

_who,

besidesadel-icate taste

and

_{a quick apprehension,possesses}

an

accurate

_knowledge

ofthe internal_fabric,the

operationsof the understanding, the workings

of the passions,

and

the_{various species}of

SECT. I

CONCERNING

HUMAN

UNDERSTANDING

₄₅₃

painfulsoeverthisinwardsearch orenquiry

may

appear,itbecomes,in

some

measure,requisite

to those,

who

would

describewithsuccess the

ob-vious

and outward

appearancesoflife

and

man-ners.

The

anatomistpresents to theeyethe

most

hideous

and

_disagreeableobjects;buthisscience

isusefulto_{the painter}in_delineatingeven

a

Ve-nus or

an

Helen.

While

thelatter_employsallthe

richestcolours ofhis art,

and

_{giveshis figures}the

most

graceful

and

engagingairs; he

must

still

carryhisattentiontothe

inward

structure of the

human

body,the position of the muscles, the

fab-ricof the bones,

and

the use

and

_figureofevery

partor organ.

Accuracy

is,ineverycase,

advan-tageoustobeauty,

and

justreasoningto delicate

sentiment.In vain

would

we

exalttheone

_by

de-preciatingtheother.

Besides,

we may

observe, ineveryart or

pro-fession,eventhose

which most

concernlifeor

ac-tion,thataspiritof accuracy,

however

acquired,

carriesallof

them

nearertheirperfection,

and

renders

them

more

subservient totheinterests

ofsociety.

And

though

a philosopher

may

live

remote from

business,the genius of philosophy,

ifcarefully cultivated

by

several,

must

gradual-ly diffuseitselfthroughoutthe

whole

society,

and

bestow asimilar correctness

on

_everyart

and

call-ing.

The

politicianwillacquire greater foresight

and

subtility,inthesubdividing

and

balancing of

_power

;thelawyer

more method and

finer

prin-ciplesinhisreasonings;

and

the general

more

reg-ularity inhis discipline,

and

more

cautionLahis

plans

and

operations.

The

stabilityof

modern

governments

above

the ancient,

and

the

accu-racyof

modern

_philosophy,

have

improved,

and

probablywillstill_improve,

_by

similar gradations.

6.

Were

there

no

_advantageto_{be reaped}

from

thesestudies,

beyond

thegratificationof

an

in-nocentcuriosity,yetought not eventhistobe

de-spised;as

beingone

accession to thosefewsafe

and

harmlesspleasures,

which

arebestowed

on

the

human

race.

The

sweetest

and most

inoffensive

pathoflifeleadsthroughtheavenuesof science

and

learning;

and whoever can

either

remove

any

obstructions inthisway, or

open

up

any

new

prospect,

ought

so far tobeesteemed a

benefac-torto

mankind.

And

thoughthese researches

_may

appear painful

and

fatiguing, it is with

some

minds

as with

some

bodies,

which

being

en-dowed

with_vigorous

and

floridhealth, require

se-vereexercise,

and

reap apleasure

from

what,to

the generalityof

mankind,

may

seem

burden-some

and

laborious. Obscurity, indeed,is

pain-fulto the

mind

as wellasto_{the eye;}butto_bring

light

from

obscurity,

by

whateverlabour,

must

needs

be

delightful

and

rejoicing.

But

this_{obscurity in theprofound}

and

abstract

philosophy,is_objectedto,not onlyaspainful

and

fatiguing,butasthe inevitable source of

uncer-tainty

and

error.

Here

indeedliesthe_justest

and

most

plausible objection against

a

considerable

part of metaphysics, thattheyarenot properly

a

science;butariseeither

from

thefruitless

ef-fortsof

human

vanity,

which would

penetrate

into subjects utterly inaccessible to the

under-standing, or

from

thecraftofpopular

supersti-tions,which, being unabletodefend themselves

on

fair_ground,raisethese intanglingbrambles

tocover

and

_protecttheirweakness.

Chased from

the

_open

_{country, these}robbersflyinto the

for-est,

and

lieinwaittobreakin

_upon

_every

un-guarded

avenueofthemind,

and overwhelm

it

with_{religious fears}

and

_prejudices.

The

stoutest

antagonist,ifhe remithis

watch

a

_moment,

is

oppressed.

And

many,

through cowardice

and

folly,

open

the gatesto_{the enemies,}

and

willing-lyreceive

them

with reverence

and

submission,

astheir_{legal sovereigns.}

7.

But

isthis

a

sufficientreason,

why

philoso-phers should desist

from

suchresearches,

and

leave superstitionstill_{in possession of}herretreat?

Isit_{not proper}to

draw

an

_{opposite conclusion,}

and

_{perceive the necessity of carrying the}

war

in-to the

most

secret recessesof the

_enemy?

In vain

do

we

_hope,that

men, from

frequent

disappoint-ment,willatlast

abandon

suchairysciences,

and

discover theproper provinceof

human

reason.

For,besides,that

many

persons find toosensible

an

interest_{in perpetually recalling}such_topics;

besidesthis,I say,themotiveofblind despair

can

never reasonably haveplace in thesciences; since,

however

unsuccessful_{former attempts}

_may

have

proved, thereis still

room

to_hope,thatthe

in-dustry,

good

fortune, or

improved

sagacity

ofsuc-ceedinggenerations

may

reachdiscoveries

un-known

toformer_ages.

Each

adventurous_genius

willstill_{leap at the}arduousprize,

and

find

him-selfstimulated, rather thatdiscouraged,

by

the

failuresofhis_{predecessors;}while_{he hopes}that

the glory ofachievingso

hard

an

adventureis

reservedfor

him

alone.

The

only

method

of

free-inglearning, at once,

from

these abstruse

ques-tions, isto_enquireseriously into thenature of

human

understanding,

and

show,

from an

exact

analysis ofits_powers

and

capacity, thatit is

_by

no

means

fitted for such

remote and

abstruse

subjects.

We

must

submittothis fatigue,in

or-dertoliveat ease everafter:

And

must

cultivate

truemetaphysics with

some

care, inorderto

de-stroy thefalse

and

adulterate. Indolence,which,

to

some

persons, affords

a

safeguardagainstthis

overbal-454

anced by

curiosity;

and

despair,which,at

some

moments,

prevails,

may

giveplace afterwards to

sanguine hopes

and

expectations.Accurate

and

justreasoningistheonlycatholic_remedy,fitted

forall_persons

and

all_{dispositions;}

and

isalone

able to subvert that abstruse philosophy

and

metaphysicaljargon,which, being

mixed

up

with

popularsuperstition,rendersitin

a

manner

im-penetrableto carelessreasoners,

and

givesitthe

airof science

and wisdom.

8.Besidesthis_advantageof_{rejecting, after}

de-liberate enquiry, the

most

uncertain

and

disa-greeable part of learning, there are

many

posi-tiveadvantages,

which

result

from an

accurate

scrutiny into thepowers

and

facultiesof

human

nature. Itis_{remarkable concerning}the

opera-tiorm of themind,that,

though most

intimately

present tous, yet,

whenever

they

become

the

ob-ject ofreflexion, they

seem

involvedin

obscur-ity;nor

can

theeyereadily find thoselines

and

boundaries,

which

discriminate

and

_distinguish

them.

The

objects are toofineto

remain

longin

the

same

_{aspect or}situation;

and must

be

appre-hended

in

an

instant,

by

a_{superior penetration,}

derived

from

nature,

and unproved by

habit

and

reflexion. Itbecomes, therefore,

no

inconsider-able part of sciencebarelyto

know

the different

operations of themind, to_separate

them

from

each other, to class

them

under

their proper

heads,

and

to correctallthat

_seeming

disorder,

in

which

theylie_involved,

when

made

the

ob-jectof reflexion

and

enquiry.Thistalkof

order-ing

and

distinguishing,

which

has

no

merit,

when

performed with regard to external bodies, the

objects ofoursenses, risesinitsvalue,

when

di-rectedtowards_{the operations}ofthe_mind,in

pro-portion to thedifficulty

and

labour,

which

we

meet

within_performingit.

And

if

we

can

go

no

fartherthanthis_{mental geography, or}

delinea-tionof thedistinct_parts

and powers

of themind,

it isatleast

a

satisfactionto_gosofar;

and

the

more

obviousthisscience

_may

_{appear (and}it is

by

no means

obvious) the

more

contemptiblestill

must

the_ignoranceofit_{be esteemed,}inall

pre-tenders to learning

and

_philosophy.

Nor

can

there

_{remain any}

_{suspicion, that}this

scienceisuncertain

and

_{chimerical; unless}

we

sbouldentertainsuch

a

_{scepticism as}isentirely

subversive ofall_speculation,

and

even

action.It

camaot

be

doubted, that the

rsmd

is

endowed

withseveral

_{powers and}

_faculties,thatthese

pow-ersaredistinct

from each

other,that

w&at

is re-ally distincttothe

mimediate

perception

may

be

distinguished

by

reflexion;

and

consequently,

that thereis

a

truth

and

falsehoodinall

propo-sitions

on

this subject,

and

atroth

and

falsehood,

which

lienot

_beyond

the

_compass

of

human

un-derstanding.Thereare

many

obviousdistinctions

ofthiskind,suchasthose

between

thewill

and

understanding, the imagination

and

passions,

which

fallwithinthe

_{comprehension}

ofevery

hu-man

creature;

and

thefiner

and

more

philosoph-ical distinctions are

no

less real

and

certain,

though

more

difficulttobe

_{comprehended.}

Some

instances,especiallylateones, of successinthese

enquiries,

may

giveus

a

justernotionof the

cer-tainty

and

solidity ofthis

branch

of learning.

And

shall

we

esteemit

_worthy

thelabourofa

philosophertogiveus

a

truesystemof_the

plan-ets,

and

adjust the position

and

orderof those

remote

bodies;while

we

affecttooverlookthose,

who,

withso

much

success,delineate_{the parts}

of the_mind,in

which

we

are so intimately

con-cerned?

9.

But

may we

not hope, that philosophy,if

cultivatedwithcare,

and

encouraged

by

the

at-tention of the public,

may

carryitsresearches

still_farther,

and

_{discover, at}leastin

some

de-gree,thesecretsprings

and

principles,

by

which

the

human

mind

isactuatedinits_operations?

Astronomers

had

_{long contented themselves with}

proving,

from

the

phaenomena,

the true motions,

order,

and magnitude

of theheavenly bodies:

Tilla_{philosopher, at}last,arose,

who

seems,

from

thehappiestreasoning, tohavealsodetermined

thelaws

and

_forces,

_{by which}

the revolutions of

the planets aregoverned

and

directed.

The

like

has

been

_{performed with regard}toother_parts

of nature.

And

thereis

no

reason_{to despair of}

equal success in ourenquiries concerning the

mental

powers

and economy,

if_{prosecuted with}

equal capacity

and

caution.Itis_{probable, that}

one

_operation

and

principleof the

mind

depends

on

another;which,again,

may

beresolved into

one

more

_general

and

universal:

And how

far

theseresearches

_may

possiblybecarried,itwill

bedifficultfor us, before,orevenafter,

a

careful

trial,exactly todetermine. Thisis_certain,that

attemptsofthiskindare_every

_day

made

even

by

those

who

philosophize the

most

negligent-ly:

And

nothing

can be

more

requisitethanto

enter

_upon

the enterprizewith thoroughcare

and

attention; that, if it liewithin the

_compass

of

human

understanding,it

_may

atlast_{be happily}

achieved;ifnot, it

_may,

however,

be

rejected

with

some

confidence

and

_security.Thislast

con-clusion, surely,isnotdesirable;nor

ought

itto

be

embraced

toorashly.

For

how

much

must

we

diminish

from

_{the beauty}

and

valueofthis

spe-ciesofphilosophy,

upon

suck

a

_supposition?

Mor-alists

have

hitherto

been

accustomed,

when

they

SECT.

H

CONCERNING

HUMAN

UNDERSTANDING

455

those actions that exciteour approbationor

dis-like, tosearch for

some

common

principle,

on

which

thisvariety of sentiments

might

depend.

And

though

they

have

sometimescarriedthe

mat-tertoofar,

by

their_passionfor

some

onegeneral

principle; itmust, however, beconfessed, that

theyareexcusableinexpectingto find

some

gen-eral principles, into

which

allthevices

and

vir-tues

were

justly toberesolved.

The

likehasbeen

the

endeavour

ofcritics,logicians,

and

even

pol-iticians:

Nor

have

their _attempts

been

wholly

unsuccessful;

though

perhapslonger tune,

great-er accuracy,

and

more

ardent_application

_may

bringthese sciencesstillnearer_{their perfection.}

To

throw

up

atonceall_{pretensions of}thiskind

may

justly be

deemed

more

rash, precipitate,

and

dogmatical, than eventhe boldest

and most

affirmative philosophy, thathasever_attempted

to_imposeits crude dictates

and

_principles

on

mankind.

10.

What

though

these reasoningsconcerning

human

nature

seem

abstract,

and

ofdifficult

comprehension? Thisaffords

no

presumptionof

theirfalsehood.

On

the contrary,itseems impos-sible, that

what

hashitherto escapedso

_many

wise

and

_{profoundphilosophers}can be very

ob-vious

and

easy.

And

whateverpains these

re-searches

may

cost us,

we may

think ourselves

suf-ficientlyrewarded, not onlyin point ofprofitbut

of pleasure,if,

by

thatmeans,

we

can

make

any

addition toourstock ofknowledge,in subjects

of_{such unspeakable importance.}

But

as, afterall, the abstractedness of these

speculationsis

no

recommendation, butrather

a

disadvantagetothem,

and

as this difficulty

may

perhaps be

surmounted by

care

and

art,

and

the

avoiding ofallunnecessarydetail,

we

have, in

the following enquiry,attemptedto

throw some

light

upon

subjects,

from

which

uncertaintyhas

hithertodeterredthewise,

and

obscurity the

ig-norant.

Happy,

if

we

can

unite theboundaries

ofthe different species of philosophy,

by

recon-cilingprofound enquiry withclearness,

and

truth

with_novelty!

And

still

more

happy,if,

reason-inginthiseasy

manner,

we

can undermine

the

foundations of

an

_{abstruse philosophy,}

which

seemsto

have

hitherto servedonlyasashelterto

superstition,

and a

coverto absurdity

and

error!

Sect.II.

_Of

the_{Originof Ideas}

^n.

Every one

willreadily allow, that thereis

a

considerable difference

between

the

percep-tions of the

mind,

when

a

man

feelsthe_pain

ofex-cessiveheat,orthe pleasure of

moderate warmth,

and

when

he

afterwardsrecallstohis

_memory

thissensation,oranticipatesit

by

his

imagina-tion.

These

faculties

_may

mimic

or_copythe

per-ceptions of thesenses;but they never can

entire-lyreachthe force

and

vivacity of the original

sentiment.

The

utmost

we

say ofthem, even

when

they operate withgreatest vigour,is, thatthey

representtheirobjectin so lively

a manner,

that

we

couldalmost_say

we

feelorseeit:_But,except

the

mind

bedisordered

_by

disease_{or madness,}

they never canarriveatsuch

a

_{pitch of}vivacity,

as torenderthese perceptions altogether

undis-tinguishable. All the colours of poetry,

however

splendid,can neverpaint natural objectsinsuch

a

manner

as to

make

the descriptionbe taken

forareal landskip.

The

most

livelythoughtis

stillinferiortothedullestsensation.

We

_may

observe a like distinction to

run

throughalltheother perceptions of themind.

A

man

inafit_{of anger,}isactuatedin

a

very

differ-ent

manner

from

one

who

_only thinks ofthat

emotion.If

_you

tell_me,that

_any

_personisin love,

I easilyunderstand your meaning,

and

form

a

justconception ofhis situation; but never

can

mistakethat_conceptionforthe real disorders

and

agitations of the passion.

When

we

reflect

on

our

past sentiments

and

affections,our thoughtis

a

faithfulmirror,

and

copiesitsobjectstruly;but

the colours

which

it_employsarefaint

and

dull,

in_comparisonof those hi

which

our_original

per-ceptions

were

clothed. Itrequires

no

nice

dis-cernment

or metaphysical

head

to

mark

the

dis-tinction

between

them.

12.

Here

therefore

we may

divideallthe

per-ceptions of the

mind

into

two

classesorspecies,

which

are distinguished

by

theirdifferent

de-grees offeree

and

vivacity.

The

lessforcible

and

livelyare

commonly

denominated

Thoughtsor

Ideas.

The

other_species

want a

name

inour

lan-guage,

and

in

most

others; Isuppose,becauseit

was

not_{requisite for}any,butphilosophical

pur-poses,torank

them

under a

general

term

or

ap-pellation.Letus, therefore,use

a

littlefreedom,

and

call

them

_Impressions;

_employing

that

word

inasense

somewhat

different

from

the usuaj.

_By

the

term

impression, then, I

mean

allour

more

livelyperceptions,

when

we

hear, orsee,orfeel,

orlove,or hate,ordesire, orwill.

And

impres-sionsare distinguished

from

ideas,

which

are the

less_{livelyperceptions, of}

which

we

are conscious,

when

we

reflect

_{on any}

of those sensations or

movements above

mentioned.

1_3.Nothing,atfirst_view,

_may

seem

more

un-bounded

thanthethoughtof

man, which

not

on-lyescapesall

human

_{power and}

authority,but

isnot evenrestrainedwithinthelimitsof nature

and

reality.

To

form

monsters,

and

join

imag-456

ination

no

more

trouble thanto conceive the

most

natural

and

familiar_objects.

And

whilethe

body

isconfined to

one

planet,along

which

it

creepswith pain

and

difficulty;thethought can

in

an

instant transport us into the

most

distant

regions of the universe;oreven

beyond

the

uni-verse,intothe

unbounded

chaos,

where

nature

is_supposedtoliein totalconfusion.

What

never

was

seen,orheardof,

may

yet

be

conceived; nor

is

_any

_thing

_beyond

the

_power

of_thought,except

what

implies

an

absolute contradiction.

But though

our thought seemsto possessthis

unbounded

liberty,

we

shall find,

upon

a nearer

examination,thatitis reallyconfined within

very

narrow

limits,

and

thatall thiscreative

power

ofthe

mind

amounts

to

no

more

thanthe

faculty of

compounding,

transposing,

augment-ing,or diminishingthe materials afforded us

by

thesenses

and

experience.

When

we

think of

a

golden

mountain,

we

only join

two

consistent

ideas, gold,

and

mountain,with

which

we

were

for-merlyacquainted.

A

virtuoushorse

we

can

con-ceive;because,

from

our

own

feeling,

we

can

conceive virtue;

and

this

we may

unite to the

fig-ure

and

shapeof

a

horse,

which

is

an

animal

fa-miliar tous.Inshort,allthe materials of

think-ingarederivedeither

from

our

outward

or

in-ward

sentiment: themixture

and

compositionof

these belongsaloneto the

mind

and

will._Or,to

expressmyselfin philosophicallanguage,allour

ideas or

more

_{feeble perceptions are copies of}our

impressions or

more

livelyones.

1_4.

To

_provethis,the

two

following

arguments

will,Ihope, besufficient. First,

when

we

analyze

our thoughts orideas,

however

compounded

or

sublime,

we

alwaysfindthattheyresolve

them-selvesinto_{such simple}ideas as

were

_copied

from

a

_precedentfeelingor sentiment.

Even

those

ideas,which,atfirst_view,

seem

the

most wide

of

this origin,are found,

upon

a

nearerscrutiny,to

bederived

from

it.

The

ideaof

God,

as

_meaning

an

infinitely intelligent, wise,

and

good

Being,

arises

from

_reflecting

on

the operations of our

own

mind,

and

augmenting, withoutlimit,those

qualitiesof goodness

and

wisdom.

We

may

pros-ecutethis

_enquiry

to

what

length

we

please;

where

we

shall_alwaysfind,thatevery idea

which

we

examine

is_copied

from a

_{similar impression.}

Those

who

would

assertthatthis_positionisnot

universally true

nor without

exception,

have

onlyc^ie,

and

that

an

easy

method

of refutingit;

by

producingthatidea,

which

aintheir opinion,

isnot derived

from

thissource.Itwillthen

be

in-cumbent on

us,if

we

would

maintain

our

doc-trine, toproducethe impression,orlively

per-ception,

which

correspondstoit.

1_5.Secondly.Ifit_happen,

from

a defect of the

organ, thata

man

isnotsusceptible of

any

spe-ciesof sensation,

we

alwaysfindthatheisaslittle

susceptible of thecorrespondentideas.

A

blind

man

can

form no

notionof colours;

a

deaf

man

of sounds. Restoreeither of

them

that sense in

which

heisdeficient;

by

openingthis

new

inlet for his sensations,

you

also

_{open an}

inlet forthe

ideas;

and

he

finds

no

difficultyin conceiving

these_objects.

The

caseisthesame,ifthe_object,

properfor_exciting

_any

sensation,has neverbeen

appliedto_{the organ.}

A

_{Laplander or}

Negro

has

no

notionof therelishof wine.

And

though

there

are

few

or

no

instancesofalikedeficiencyinthe

mind,

where

a person has neverfeltoris_wholly

incapableofa sentimentor passion thatbelongs

to_{his species;yet}

we

findthe

same

observation

totake_placein

a

less_degree.

A

man

ofmild

man-ners

can form no

idea of inveteraterevengeor

cruelty;nor

can

aselfishhearteasilyconceive

the heights offriendship

and

generosity. Itis

readily allowed, thatother beings

may

possess

many

senses of

which

we

can

have no

conception;

becausethe ideas of

them

have

never

been

intro-duced

toushitheonly

manner

by which an

idea

can have

access to themind,to_wit,

_by

the actual

feeling

and

sensation.

16.

There

is,however,

one

contradictory

phe-nomenon, which

may

provethatitisnot

abso-lutelyimpossibleforideasto arise,independent

of their_{correspondentimpressions.}I believeit

will_readilybe_{allowed, that the several}distinct

ideasofcolour,

which

enter

by

the_{eye, or those}

of sound,

which

are

_conveyed

_by

the ear, are

reallydifferent

from

eachother;though,at the

same

time, resembling.

Now

ifthisbetrueof

dif-ferentcolours,it

must

be

no

lesssoof the different

shades ofthe

same

colour;

and each

shade

pro-duces

a

distinctidea,independentof therest.

For

ifthisshould

be

denied,it is_possible,

_by

the

con-tinual_gradationof shades, to

run

acolour

insen-siblyinto

what

is

most remote from

it;

and

if

you

willnot allow

_any

of the

means

to

be

different,

you

cannot,

without

absurdity,

deny

the

ex-tremestobethesame. Suppose,therefore,

a

per-sonto

have

enjoyedhis_sightforthirtyyears,

and

to

have

become

perfectlyacquainted with

col-ours ofall_{kinds except}

one

_particularshade of

blue,forinstance,

which

itnever has

been

his

fortuneto

meet

with.Letallthe differentshades

of that colour,exceptthat single one,

be

placed

beforehim, descending gradually

from

the

deep-esttothe_lightest;it is_{plain that}

he

will_perceive

a

blank,

where

thatshadeis_wanting,

and

will

be

sensible that thereis

a

_{greater distance}inthat

SECT. Ill

CONCERNING

HUMAN

UNDERSTANDING

₄₅₇

any

other.

Now

I_ask,whetheritbe_possiblefor

him,

from

his

own

_{imagination, tosupply}this

deficiency,

and

raise

up

tohimself the idea of that

particular shade,

though

it

had

neverbeen

con-veyedto

him

_by

hissenses? Ibelievethere are

few butwillbeof_opinionthathecan:

and

this

may

serveas_{a proof}thatthe_simpleideasarenot

always,ineveryinstance,derived

from

the

cor-respondentimpressions;

though

thisinstanceis

so_{singular, that}itis_scarcely

worth

our

observ-ing,

and

does not meritthatforitalone

we

should

alterour_general

maxim.

1_7.Here,therefore,isaproposition,

which

not

onlyseems, initself,_simple

and

intelligible;but,

if_{a proper use}

were

made

ofit,

might

render

everydispute equallyintelligible,

and

banishall

that jargon,

which

hasso_{long takenpossession}

ofmetaphysicalreasonings,

and

drawn

disgrace

upon

them.Allideas, especially abstract ones,

are naturallyfaint

and

obscure:the

mind

hasbut

aslenderholdof_{them: they}areaptto

be

con-founded withotherresemblingideas;

and

when

we

have

often

_{employed any}

term,

though

with-out adistinct_meaning,

we

areapttoimagineit

hasa determinate idea

annexed

toit.

On

the

contrary,all_{impressions, that}is,allsensations,

either

outward

orinward,are strong

and

vivid:

thelimits

between

them

are

more

exactly

deter-mined: norisit_{easy to}fallinto

_any

error or

mis-takewith regardtothem.

When

we

entertain,

therefore,

any

suspicion that a philosophical

term

is

_employed

without

_{any meaning}

or idea

(asis buttoo frequent),

we

need

but_enquire,

from whatimpressionisthat_supposedidea derived?

And

if it

be

impossible to assign any, thiswill

serve toconfirm oursuspicion.

By

bringingideas

into so cleara_light

_{we may}

_reasonably

_hope

to

remove

all_dispute,

which

_may

arise,concerning

theirnature

and

reality.1

1

Itis_probablethat

no more

was

meant

bythose,

who

denied innateideas,thanthatallideaswere

copiesofour impressions;thoughitmust be

con-fessed,that the terms,whichtheyemployed, were

notchosen with suchcaution, norsoexactly

de-fined, as topreventallmistakesabouttheir

doc-trine. For

what

is

meant

byinnate? Ifinnate be

equivalentto natural,thenallthe perceptions

and

ideas of the

mind

must beallowedtobeinnate or

natural, inwhateversense

we

take thelatterword,

whetherinoppositionto

what

is

_uncommon,

arti-ficial,or miraculous.Ifbyinnatebe meant,

con-temporarytoour birth, the dispute seemstobe

frivolous;noris itworthwhileto_enquireat

what

time thinking begins,whetherbefore,at,orafter

ourbirth._{Again, the}

word

idea,seemstobe

com-monly

takenina _{veryloose sense,}

_by

Locke

and

others; asstandingforanyofourperceptions,our sensations

and

_{passions, as}wellasthoughts.

Now

inthis_{sense, I}shoulddesire toknow,

what

can be

Sect. III.

_Of

the _{Association of Ideas}

18. IT isevident that thereis aprinciple of

connexion between

the different _{thoughts or}

ideasof themind,

and

that, in theirappearance

tothe

memory

or imagination, they introduce

eachotherwith

a

certain_degreeof

method and

regularity. In our

more

serious thinking or

dis-coursethisissoobservable that

any

particular

thought,

which

breaksin

upon

the regular tract

orchainofideas,isimmediately

remarked and

rejected.

And

eveninourwildest

and most

wan-deringreveries,

nay

in_{our very dreams,}

we

shall

find,if

we

reflect,that theimagination ran not

altogether at adventures,butthat there

was

still

a_{connexion upheld}

_among

thedifferent ideas,

which

succeeded eachother.

Were

the loosest

and

freestconversation tobetranscribed, there

would

immediately be observed something

which

connected

itinallits transitions.

Or

where

thisis_wanting,theperson

who

broke the

threadof discourse

might

stillinform_{you, that}

there

had

secretlyrevolved inhis

mind

a

suc-cession of thought,

which had

graduallyled

him

from

the subject of conversation.

Among

differ-ent languages,even

where

we

cannot_{suspect the}

leastconnexionorcommunication,it is_found,

thatthewords, expressiveofideas, the

most

compounded, do

yet nearlycorrespondto

each

other:acertain_proofthat thesimpleideas,

com-prehended

in the

_compound

ones,

were

bound

together

by some

universalprinciple,

which

had

an

equalinfluence

on

all

mankind.

1

9.

Though

itbetooobvioustoescape

obser-vation, thatdifferent ideas areconnected

to-gether; I

do

notfindthat

any

philosopher has

attemptedto

enumerate

orclassall_the

princi-ples ofassociation;

a

subject,

however,

that

seems

_worthy

ofcuriosity.

To

me,there

appear

to

be

onlythree principles ofconnexion

_among

ideas, namely,Resemblance, Contiguityintime or

place,

and

CauseorEffect.

meant by

asserting,thatself-love,or resentment of injuries, or the passionbetween thesexes is not

innate?

But_admittingtheseterms,impressions

and

ideasy

inthesense aboveexplained,

and

understanding

by

innate,

what

is_{originalor copied}from no

prece-dent perception, then

may

we

assert thatallour

impressions areinnate,

and

ourideas notinnate*

To

beingenuous,Imust

own

ittobe

_my

opin-ion,thatLocke wasbetrayedintothis_question

_by

the schoolmen, who,

making

use of undefined

terms,

draw

outtheir disputes to

a

tediouslength,

without ever touching the pointin question.

A

like

ambiguity

and

circumlocution

seem

torun through

that Philosopher's reasonings

on

this as well as