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 '<^AdV«8n-i^'
 
 BOHN'S STANDARD LIBRARY. 
 
 LOCKE'S 
 PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 WITH A GENERAL INDEX.
 
 Ex Lihris 
 C. K. OGDEN 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 roM//^ 
 
 ■(?fM2^
 
 THE 
 
 WORKS 
 
 JOHN LOCKE 
 
 VOL. 11. 
 PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS. 
 
 WITH A PEELIMINAEY ESSAY AND NOTES, 
 
 BY .J. A. ST. JOHN. 
 
 LONDON . 
 HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 1854.
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY M. S. RICKERBY, 73, CANNON STREET, 
 CITY.
 
 IZ53 
 
 /85 V 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 AN ESSAY CONCERNING HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 Page 
 
 Chap. 1. — Of Words or Language in general 1 
 
 2. — Of the Signification of Words 4 
 
 3.— Of General Terms 9 
 
 4. — Of the Names of Simple Ideas '. 21 
 
 5. — Of the Names of Mixed Modes and Relations :- 30 
 
 6. — Of the Names of Substances 40 
 
 7.— Of Particles 74 
 
 8. — Of abstract and concrete Terms 77 
 
 9. — Of the Imperfection of Words 79 
 
 10.— Of the Abuse of Words 94 
 
 1 1 . — Of the Remedies of the foregoing Imperfections and 
 
 Abuses 113 
 
 BOOK lY. 
 
 Chap. 1. — Of Knowledge in general 129 
 
 2. — Of the Degrees of our Knowledge 134 
 
 3.— Of the Extent of Human Knowledge 142 
 
 4.— Of the Reality of Knowledge 169 
 
 5.— Of Truth in general 181 

 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chap. 6. — Of universal Propositions, their Truth and Certainty 188 
 
 7.— Of Maxims 201 
 
 8 — Of trifling Propositions 210 
 
 9. — Of our Knowledge of Exis'tence 228 
 
 10. — Of our Knowledge of the Existence of a God 229 
 
 11. — Of our Knowledge of the Existence of other Things 243 
 
 12. — Of the Improvement of our KJnowledge ^ 252 
 
 13. — Some further Considerations concerning our Know- 
 ledge 263 
 
 14.— Of Judgment 265 
 
 15.— Of Probability « 267 
 
 16.— Of the DegTPes of Assent.„ 271 
 
 17.— Of Eeason „ 282 
 
 18. — Of Faith and Reason, and their distinct Provinces . 303 
 
 19.— Of Enthusiasm 311 
 
 20. — Of wrong Assent, or Error 321 
 
 21. — Of the Division of the Sciences 336 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 CONTEOVERSY WITH THE BISHOP OF WORCESTER. 
 
 Introduction by the Editor 339 
 
 AS EXAMINAIION OF P. MALEBRAI^CHE'S OPINION 
 OF SEEING ALL THINGS IN GOD ; WITH RE- 
 MARKS UPON SOME OF MR, NORRIS'S BOOKS. 
 
 Introduction by the Editor 413 
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Chap. 1.— Of Matter and Motion 472 
 
 2.— Of the Universe 475 
 
 3.— Of our Solar System 475
 
 CONTENTS, VII 
 
 PagT3 
 
 Chap. 1. — Of the Earth, considered as a Planet 47S 
 
 5. — Of the Air and Atmosphere 479 
 
 6. — Of Meteors in general ^ 481 
 
 7. — Of Springs, Eivers, and the Sea 483 
 
 8. — Of several Sorts of Earth, Stones, Metals, Minerals, 
 
 and other Fossils 485 
 
 9.— Of Vegetables, or Plants 486 
 
 10.— Of Animals ..^ 488 
 
 11.— Of the five Senses - 490 
 
 12.— Of the Understanding of Man 495 
 
 SOME THOUGHTS CONCERNING EEADING AND 
 STUDY FOR A GENTLEMAN. 
 
 Introduction by the Editor 497 
 
 INDEX 505
 
 OP 
 
 HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OP WORDS, OK LANGUAGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 1. Man fitted to form articulate Sounds. — God having de- 
 signed man for a sociable creature, made him not only with 
 au inclination, and under a necessity to have fellowship with 
 those of his own kind, but furnished him also with language, 
 which was to be the great instrument and common tie of 
 society. Man, therefore, had by nature his organs so fashioned, 
 as to be fit to frame articulate sounds, which we call words. 
 But this was not enough to produce language; for parrots, 
 and several other birds, will be taught to make articulate 
 sounds distinct enough, which yet by no means are capable 
 of language. 
 
 2. To mahe them Signs of Ideas. — Besides articulate sounds, 
 therefore, it was further necessary that he should be able to 
 use these sounds as signs of internal conceptions, and to 
 make them stand as marks for the ideas within his own 
 mind, whereby they might be made known to others, and the 
 thoughts of men's minds be conveyed from one to another. 
 
 3. To 7nake general Signs. — But neither was this sufficient 
 to make words so useftil as they ought to be. It is not 
 enough for the perfection of language, that sounds can be 
 made signs of ideas, imless those signs can be so made use 
 of as to compi'ehend several particular things; for the mul- 
 tiplication of words would have j^erplexed their use, had 
 every particular thing need of a distinct name to be sig- 
 nified by. To remedy this inconvenience, language had yet 
 a further improvement in the use of general terms, whereby 
 one word was made to mark a multitude of particular 
 existences; which advantageous use of sounds was obtained 
 
 VOL. n. B
 
 2 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 only by the difference of the ideas they were made signs of: | 
 those names becoming general, which are made to stand for \ 
 general ideas, and those remaining particular, where the ideas 
 they are used for are particular. 
 
 4. Besides these names which stand for ideas, there be 
 other words which men make use of, not to signify any idea, 
 but the want or absence of some ideas, simple or complex, or 
 all ideas together ; such as are nihil in Latin, and in English, 
 ignorance and barrenness : all which negative or privative 
 words cannot be said properly to belong to, or signify no 
 ideas; for then they would be perfectly insignificant sounds; 
 but they relate to positive ideas, and signify their absence. 
 
 5. Woi'cls ultimately derived from such as signify sensible 
 Ideas. — It may also lead us a little towards the original of 
 all our notions and knowledge, if we remark how great a 
 dependence our words have on common sensible ideas; and 
 how those which are made use of to stand for actions and 
 
 • notions quite removed from sense, have their rise from thence, 
 and from obvious sensible ideas are transferred to more ab- 
 stinise significations, and made to stand for ideas that come 
 not under the cognizance of our senses ; v. g., to imagine, 
 apprehend, comprehend, adhere, conceive, instil, disgust, dis- 
 turbance, tranquillity, &c., are all words taken from the ope- 
 rations of sensible things, and applied to certain modes of 
 thinking. Spirit, in its primary signification, is breath; 
 angel, a messenger; and I doubt not, but if we could trace 
 them to their sources, we should find in all languages the 
 names which stand for things that fall not under our senses, 
 to have had their first rise from sensible ideas. By which 
 we may give some kind of guess what kind of notions they 
 were, and whence derived, which filled their minds who were 
 the first beginners of languages; and how nature, even in. 
 the naming of things, unawares suggested to men the ori- 
 ginals and principles of all their knowledge; whilst, to give 
 names that might make known to others any operations 
 they felt in themselves, or any other ideas that came not 
 ainder their senses, they were fain to borrow words from 
 ordinary known ideas of sensation; by that means to make 
 others the more easily to conceive those operations they ex- 
 perimented in themselves, which made no outward sensible 
 appearances; and then, when they had got known and agreed
 
 'illll CHAP, T.] OF WORDS, OR LAGNUAGE IN GENER.VL. 3 
 
 names, to signify those internal operations of their own minds, 
 .they were oufiioicnl.l;v fui'uislicJ to iiiuke ksicwn by words 
 all their other ideas; since they could consist of nothing but 
 either of outward sensible percej)tions, or of the inward ope- 
 rations of their minds about them, we having, as has been 
 proved, no ideas at all, but what originally come either from 
 sensible objects withovit, or what we feel within ourselves, 
 from the inward workings of our own spirits, of which we 
 are conscious to ourselves within. 
 
 6. Distribution. — But to understand better the use and 
 force of language, as subservient to instruction and know- 
 ledge, it will be convenient to consider : 
 
 Fii'st, To what it is that names, in the use of language, 
 are immediately applied. 
 
 Secondly, Since all (except proper) names are general, 
 and so stand not particularly for this or that single thing, 
 but for sorts and ranks of things, it will be necessary to 
 consider, in the next ])lace, what the sorts and kinds, oi-, if 
 you rather like the Latin names, what the species and genera 
 of things are, wherein they consist, and how they come to 
 be made. These being (as they ought) well looked into, 
 we shall the better come to find the right use of words, the 
 natural advantages and defects of language, and the remedies 
 that ought to be used, to avoid the inconveniences of ob- 
 scurity or uncertainty in the signification of words, without 
 which it is impossible to discourse with any clearness or 
 order concerning knowledge; which, being conversant about 
 propositions, and those most commonly univeral ones, has 
 greater connexion with words than perhaps is suspected. 
 
 These considei-ations, therefore, shall be the matter of the 
 following chapters.* 
 
 * See, in Condillac, (Origine des Connoissances Humaines, Part II. 
 § 1.) an attempt at reconciling the common method of philosophising on 
 the origin of language, with the account delivered in Scripture. He 
 believes that language was originally revealed to man in Paradise ; but 
 in order to gratify the appetite for speculation, indulges in the very im- 
 probable supposition, that two children may have wandered away into 
 the desert before they could speak, and there founded an empire with a 
 new language ; after which he sets himself about discovei-ing the method 
 which in such a case they would be likely to pursue. And this ia what 
 a hundi'ed years ago was called philosophy in France ! Most persons 
 are acquainted with the story told by Herodotus, concerning the children 
 who were nursed by the she-goats, beyond the reach of human language, 
 
 b2
 
 4: OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OF THE SIGNIFICATION OF WORDS. 
 
 1. Words are sensible Signs necessary for Communication. 
 — Man, thoiigli he has great variety of thoughts, and such 
 from which others as well as himself might receive profit 
 and delight, yet they are all within his own breast, invisible 
 and hidden from othci's, nor can of themselves be made ap- 
 pear. The comfort and advantage of society not being to 
 be had without communication of thoughts, it was necessary 
 that man should find out some external sensible signs, 
 whereof those invisible ideas, which his thoughts are made 
 up of, might be made known to others. For this purpose 
 nothing was so fit, either for plenty or quickness, as those 
 articulate sounds, which with so much ease and variety he 
 found himself able to make. Thus we may conceive how 
 words, which were by nature so well adajoted to that purpose, 
 come to be made use of by men as the signs of their ideas ; * 
 not by any natural connexion that there is between par- 
 ticular articulate sounds and certain ideas, for then there 
 would be but one language amongst all men ; but by a volun- 
 tary imposition, whereby such a word is made ai-bitrarily the 
 mark of such an idea. The use, then, of words, is to be 
 sensible marks of ideas; and the ideas they stand for are 
 their proper and immediate signification. 
 
 y. Words are the sensible Signs of his Ideas ivho uses tJiem. 
 — The use men have of these marks being either to record 
 their own thoughts for the assistance of their own memory, 
 or, as it were, to bring out their ideas, and lay them before 
 
 for the purpose of discovering what was the original dialect of mankind, 
 and how their first word was Bekos, simply the bee of the goats, with 
 the Greek termination. Quintillian, alluding to the same story, sup- 
 poses the children to have been brought up by dumb nurses, and to 
 have been, therefore, themselves dumb. (L. x. c. 1.) — Ed. 
 
 * Though much has been written on the origin and progress of lan- 
 guage, we have hitherto arrived at nothing like the philosophy of the 
 subject, chiefly perhaps from our neglecting to observe the mode by 
 which savages enlarge their vocabulary. There are, indeed, no tribes of 
 men without language, but many among whom it is exceedingly scanty. 
 A philosopher who should study the efforts of such tribes to multiply 
 their words, by expressing influxes of new ideas might throw some light 
 on a subject still veiy little understood. — Ed.
 
 CiiAP. II.] THE SIGMFICATTON OF WORDS, 5 
 
 th«: '-iew of otff. .', ords. iu their pnnmiy or immediate 
 signitication, stanc for nothing but tLc ideas in the mind 
 of him that uses i iinn, how imperfectly soever or carelessly 
 tliose ideas are collected from the things which they are 
 supposed to represent. When a man speaks to another, it 
 is that he may be undei'stood ; and the end of speech is, that 
 those sounds, as marks, may make knoAVTi his ideas to the 
 hearer. That, then, which words are the marks of, are the 
 ideas of the speaker; nor can any one apply them, as marks, 
 immediately, to anything else but the ideas that he liimself 
 hath; for this would be to make them signs of his own con- 
 ceptions, and yet apply them to other ideas; which would 
 be to make them signs and not signs of his ideas at the same 
 time, and so in efi'ect to have no signification at all. Words 
 being voluntary sigias, they cannot be voluntary signs im- 
 2)0sed by him on things he knows not. That would be to 
 make them signs of nothing, sounds without signification. 
 A man cannot make his words the signs either of qualities 
 in things, or of conceptions in the mind of another, whereof 
 he has none in his own. Till he has some ideas of his own, 
 he cannot suppose them to correspond with the conceptions 
 of another man ; nor can he use any signs for them, for thus 
 they would be the signs of he knows not what, which is in 
 truth to be the signs of nothing. But when he represents 
 to himself other men's ideas by some of his own, if he con- 
 sent to give them the same names that other men do, it is 
 still to his own ideas; to ideas that he has, and not to ideas 
 that he has not. 
 
 3. This is so necessary in the use of language, that in this 
 respect the knowing and the ignorant, the learned and the 
 unlearned, use the words they speak (with any meaning) all 
 alike. They, in every man's mouth, stand for the ideas he 
 has, and which he would express by them. A child having 
 taken notice of nothing in the metal he hears called gold, 
 but the bright shining yellow colour, he appUes the word 
 gold only to his OAvn idea of that colour, and nothing else; 
 and therefore calls the same colour in a peacock's tail gold.* 
 
 * "All," says the proverb, "is not gold that glitters;" but, like 
 childreu, travellers sometimes forget the wisdom contained in this 
 Baying. A propos of this, Navarrette remarks: — "They report the 
 apartments and rooms are very stately and noble, especially the
 
 OF HUMAN UNDEKSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OF THE SIGNIFICATION OF WORDS. 
 
 1. Words are sensible Signs necessa/ry for Communication. 
 — Man, though, he has great variety of thoughts, and such 
 from which others as well as himself might receive profit 
 and delight, yet they are all within his own bi-east, invisible 
 and hiddea from others, nor can of themselves be made ap- 
 pear. The comfort and advantage of society not being to 
 be had without communication of thoughts, it was necessary 
 that man should find out some external sensible signs, 
 whereof those invisible ideas, which his thoughts are made 
 up of, might be made known to others. For this purpose 
 nothing was so fit, either for plenty or qmckness, as those 
 articulate sounds, which with so much ease and variety he 
 found himself able to make. Thus we may conceive how 
 words, which were by nature so well adaj)ted to that purpose, 
 come to be made use of by men as the signs of their ideas ; * 
 not by any natural connexion that there is between par- 
 ticular articulate sounds and certain ideas, for then there 
 would be but one language amongst all men ; biit by a volvm- 
 tary imposition, whereby such a word is made arbitrarily the 
 mark of such an idea. The use, then, of words, is to be 
 sensible marks of ideas ; and the ideas they stand for are 
 their proper and immediate signification. 
 
 2. Words are the sensible Signs of his Ideas ivho uses tliem. 
 — The use men have of these marks being either to record 
 their own thoughts for the assistance of their o^vn memory, 
 or, as it were, to bring out their ideas, and lay them before 
 
 for the purpose of discovering what, was the original dialect of mankind, 
 and how their first word was Bekos, simply the hec of the goats, with 
 the Greek termination. QuintUlian, alluding to the same story, sup- 
 poses the children to have been brought up by dumb nurses, and to 
 have been, therefore, themselves dumb. (L. x. c. 1.) — Ed. 
 
 * Though much has been written on the origin and progress of lan- 
 guage, we have hitherto arrived at nothing like the philosophy of the 
 subject, chiefly perhaps from our neglecting to observe the mode by 
 which savages enlarge their vocabulary. There are, indeed, no tribes of 
 men without language, but many among whom it is exceedingly scanty. 
 A philosopher who should study the efforts of such tribes to multiply 
 their words, by expressing influxes of new ideas might throw some light 
 on a subject still veiy little undei'stood. — Ed.
 
 CfiAP. H.] THE SIGNIFICATION OF WORDS. 5 
 
 the ^-ie"w of otlipr words, iu their pntnaiy or immediate 
 
 iSignitication, staru for nothing but iLc ideas in the mind 
 of him that uses iiioni, how imperfectly soever or carelessly 
 those ideas are collected from the things which they ai'e 
 supposed to represent. When a man speaks to another, it 
 is that he may be understood ; and the end of speech is, that 
 those sounds, as marks, may make known his ideas to the 
 hearer. That, then, which words ai'e the marks of, ai-e the 
 ideas of the speaker; nor can any one apply them, as marks, 
 immediately, to anything else but the ideas that he himself 
 hath ; for this would be to make them signs of his own con- 
 ceptions, and yet apply them to other ideas; which would 
 be to make them signs and not signs of his ideas at the same 
 time, and so in efiect to have no signification at all. Words 
 being voluntary signs, they cannot be voluntary signs im- 
 posed by him on things he knows not. That would be to 
 make them signs of nothing, sounds without signification. 
 A man cannot make his words the signs either of qualities 
 in things, or of conce^Jtions in the mind of another, whereof 
 he has none in his own. Till he has some ideas of his own, 
 he cannot suppose them to correspond with the conceptions 
 of another man ; nor can he use any signs for them, for thus 
 they would be the signs of he knows not what, which is iu 
 truth to be the signs of nothing. But when he represents 
 to himself other men's ideas by some of his own, if he con- 
 sent to give them the same names that other men do, it is 
 still to his own ideas; to ideas that he has, and not to ideas 
 that he has not. 
 
 3. This is so necessary in the use of language, that in this 
 respect the knowing and the ignorant, the learned and the 
 unlearned, use the words they speak (with any meaning) all 
 alike. They, in every man's mouth, stand for the ideas he 
 has, and which he would express by them. A child having 
 taken notice of nothing in the metal he hears called gold, 
 but the bright shining yellow colour, he applies the word 
 gold only to his own idea of that colour, and nothing else; 
 and therefore calls the same colour in a peacock's tail gold.'* 
 
 * "All," says the proverb, "is not gold that glitters;" but, like 
 childreu, travellers sometimes forget the wisdom contained in this 
 saying. A propos of this, Navarrette remarks: — "They report the 
 apartments and rooms are very stately and noble, especially the
 
 8 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAOTJING. [bOOK III. 
 
 of them learned before the ideas are known for which they 
 stand: therefore some, not only children but men, speak 
 several words no otherwise than parrots do, only because 
 they have learned them, and have been accustomed to those 
 sounds. But, so far as words are of use and signification, so 
 far is there a constant connexion between the sound and the 
 idea, and a designation that the one stands for the other; 
 without which application of them, they are nothing but so 
 much insignificant noise. 
 
 8. Their Signification perfectly arbitrary. — ^Words, by long 
 and familar use, as has been said, come to excite in men 
 certain ideas so constantly and readily, that they are apt to 
 suppose a natural connexion between them. But that they 
 signify only men's peculiar ideas, and that by a perfect arbi- 
 trary imposition, is evident, in that they often fail to excite 
 in others (even that use the same language) the same ideas 
 we take them to be the signs of: and every man has so 
 inviolable a liberty to make words stand for what ideas he 
 pleases, that no one hath the power to make others have the 
 same ideas iu their minds that he has, when they use the 
 same words that he does. And therefore the great Augustus 
 himself, in the possession of that power which ruled the 
 world, acknowledged he could not make a new Latin word; 
 which was as much as to say, that he could not arbitrarily 
 appoint what idea any sound should be a sign of in the 
 mouths and common language of his subjects. It is true 
 common use, by a tacit consent, appropriates certain sounds 
 to certain ideas in all languages, which so far limits the sig- 
 pification of that sound, that, unless a man applies it to the 
 same idea, he does not speak propex'ly : and let me add, that, 
 imless a man's words excite the same ideas in the hearer 
 which he makes them stand for in speaking, he does not 
 .speak intelligibly. But whatever be the consequence of any 
 man's using of words differently, either from their general 
 meaning, or the joarticular sense of the person to whom he 
 addresses them; this is certain, their signification, in his use 
 of them, is liraited to his ideas, and they can be signs of 
 nothins else.
 
 CHAP. III. OF GENERAL TERMS. 9 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF GENERAL TERMS 
 
 1. The greatest Part of Words general. — All things that 
 exist being particulars, it may perhaps be thought reasonable 
 that ■words, which ought to be conformed to things, should 
 be so too, — I mean in their signification: but yet we find 
 quite the conti'ary. The far greatest part of words that 
 make all languages are general terms; which has not been 
 the effect of neglect or chance, but of reason and necessity. 
 
 2. For every particular Thhig to have a Name is imiwssihle. 
 — First, It is impossible that every particular thing should 
 have a distinct peculiar name. For the signification and use 
 of words dependmg on that connexion which the mind 
 m.akes between its ideas and the sounds it uses as signs of 
 them, it is necessary, in the application of names to things, 
 that the mind should have distinct ideas of the things, and 
 retain also the particular name that belongs to eveiy one, 
 with its peculiar appropriation to that idea. But it is be- 
 yond the power of human capacity to frame and retain dis- 
 tinct ideas of all the particular things we meet with ; every 
 bird and beast men saw, every tree and plant that afl[ected 
 the senses, could not find a place in the most capacious un- 
 derstanding. If it be looked on as an instance of a pro- 
 digious memory, that some generals have been able to call 
 every soldier in their army by his proper name, we may 
 easily find a reason why men have never attempted to give 
 names to each sheep in their flock, or crow that flies over 
 their heads ; much less to call every leaf of plants, or grain of 
 sand that came in their way, by a peculiar name. 
 
 3. And useless. — Secondly, If it were possible, it would 
 yet be iiseless; because it would not serve to the chief end 
 of language. Men would in vain heap vip names of particular 
 things that would not serve them to communicate their 
 thoughts. Men learn names, and iise them in talk with 
 others, only that they may be understood : which is then 
 only done when by use or consent the sound I make by the 
 organs of speech, excites in another man's mind who hears it 
 the idea I apply it to in mine, when I speak it. This cannot 
 be done by names applied to particular things, whereof I
 
 10 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 alone having tne ideas in my mind, the names of them could 
 not be significant or intelligible to another, who was not 
 acquainted with all those very particular things which had 
 fallen under my notice. 
 
 4. Thirdly, But yet, granting this also feasible, (which I 
 think is not,) yet a distinct name for every particular thing 
 would not be of any great use for the improvement of know- 
 ledge: which, though founded in particular things, enlarges 
 itself by general views; to which things reduced into sorts 
 imder general names, are properly subservient. These with 
 the names belonging to them, come within some compass, 
 and do not multiply every moment, beyond what either the 
 mind can contain, or use requires: and therefore, in these, 
 men have for the most part stopped ; but yet not so as to 
 hinder themselves from distinguishing particular things by 
 appro2:iriated names, where convenience demands it. And 
 therefoi-e in their own species, which they have most to do 
 with, and wherein they have often occasion to mention par- 
 ticular persons, they make use of proper names; and there 
 distinct individuals have distinct denominations. 
 
 5. TF7iat things have proper Names. — Besides persons, 
 countries also, cities, rivers, mountains, and other the like 
 distinctions of place, have usually found peculiar names, and 
 that for the same reason ; they being such as men have often 
 an occasion to mark particularly, and, as it were, set before 
 others in their discourses with them. And I doubt not, but 
 if we had reason to mention particular horses as often as we 
 have to mention particular men, we should have proper 
 names for the one, as familiar as for the other; and Buce- 
 phalus would be a word as much in use as Alexander. And 
 therefore we see that, amongst jockeys, horses have their 
 {jrojoer names to be known and distinguished by, as com- 
 monly as their servants; because, amongst them, there is 
 often occasion to mention this or that particular horse when 
 he is out of sight. 
 
 6. ILoto general Words are made. — The next thing to be 
 considered is, how general words come to be made. For, 
 since all things that exist are only particulars, how come we 
 by genei'al terms, or where find we those general natures 
 they are supposed to stand for? Words become general by 
 being made the signs of general ideas; and ideas become
 
 CHAP. Til.] OF GliNERAL TERMS. 11 
 
 general by sepai'ating from them the circumstances of time 
 and place, and any other ideas that may determine them to 
 this or that particular existence. By this way of a]),strac- 
 tion they are niade capable of representing more individuals 
 than one; each of which having in it a conformity to that 
 abstract idea, is (as we call it) of that sort. 
 
 7. But, to deduce this a little more distinctly, it will not 
 perhaps be amiss to trace our notions and names from their 
 beginning, and observe by what degrees we proceed, and by 
 what steps we enlarge our ideas from our first infancy. 
 There is nothing more evident, than that the ideas of the 
 persons children converse witlx (to instance in them alone) 
 are, like the persons themselves, only particular. The ideas 
 of the nurse and the mother are well framed in their minds; 
 and, like pictures of them there, represent only those indi- 
 viduals. The names they first gave to them are confined to 
 these individuals ; and the names of nurse and mamma the 
 child uses, determine themselves to those persons. After- 
 wards, when time and a lai-ger acquaintance have made them 
 observe that there are a great many otlier things in the 
 world that, in some common agreements of shape, and several 
 other qualities, resemble their father and mother, and those 
 persons they have been used to, they frame an idea, which 
 they find those many particulars do partake in; and to that 
 they give, with others, the name man, for example. And 
 thus they come to have a general name, and a general idea; 
 wherein they make nothing new, but only leave out of the 
 complex idea they had of Peter and James, Mary and Jane, 
 that which is peculiar to each, and retain only what is 
 common to them all. 
 
 8. By the same way that they come by the general name 
 and idea of man, they easily advance to more general names 
 and notions. For, obsei'ving that several things that differ 
 from their idea of man, and cannot therefore be comprehended 
 under that name, have yet certain quahties wherein they 
 agree with man, by retaining only those qualities, and uniting 
 them into one idea, they have again another and more 
 general idea; to which having given a name, they make a 
 term of a more comprehensive extension : which new idea is 
 made, not by any new addition, but only as before, by 
 leaving out the shape, and some other properties signified
 
 12 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. BOOK III. 
 
 by tlie name man, and retaining only a body, with life, 
 sense, and spontaneous motion, compreliended under the 
 name animal.* 
 
 9. General Natures are nothing but abstract Ideas. — That 
 this is the way whereby men first formed general ideas, and 
 general names to them, I think is so evident, that there 
 needs no other proof of it but the considering of a man's 
 self, or others, and the ordinary ^proceedings of their minds 
 in knowledge : and he that thiuks general natures or notions 
 are anything else but such abstract and partial ideas of more 
 complex ones, taken at first from particular existences, Avill, 
 I fear, be at a loss where to find them. For let any one 
 reflect, and then tell me, wherein does his idea of man differ 
 from that of Peter and Paul, or his idea of horse from that 
 of Bucephalus, but in the leaving out something that is 
 peculiar to each individvial, and retaining so much of those 
 particular complex ideas of several particular existences as 
 they are found to agree in? Of the complex ideas signifietl 
 by the names man and liorse, leaving out but those par- 
 ticulars wherein they differ, and retaining only those wherein 
 they agree, and of those making a new distinct complex idea 
 and giving the name animal to it ; one has a more general? 
 term, that comprehends with man several other creatures. 
 Leave out of the idea of animal, sense and spontaneous 
 motion, and the remaining complex idea, made up of the 
 remaining simple ones of body, life, and nourishment, be- 
 comes a more general one, under the more comprehensive 
 
 * It foiTQed part of Berkeley's system to deny the existence of general 
 ideas, which accordingly he ridicules with great pertinacity in his Intro- 
 duction to the Pi-inciples of Human Knowledge. (§ 7, et seq.) His 
 reasoning, however, is that of a sophist, and the sneering tone of his 
 language whoUy unsuited to philosophical discussion. Making use — as 
 far as he judged favourable to his purpose — of the language in the text, 
 he says: — "The constituent parts of the abstract idea of animal are 
 body, life, sense, and spontaneous motion. By body is meant body 
 without any particular shape or figure — there being no. one shape or 
 figure common to all animals, without covering, either of hair or 
 feathers, or scales, &c., nor yet naked: hair, feathers, scales, and naked- 
 ness being the distinguishing properties of particular animals, and, for 
 that reason, left out of the abstract idea. Upon the same account, the 
 spontaneous motion must be neither walking, nor flying, nor creeping : 
 it is, nevertheless, a motion ; but what that motion is, it is not easy to 
 conceive. (§ 9.) — Ed.
 
 CHAP. III.] OF GENERAL TERMS. 13 
 
 term, vivens. And, not to dwell longer upon this particular, 
 so evident in itself, by the same way the mind proceeds 
 to body, substance, and at last to being, thing, and such 
 universal terms, wliich stand for any of our ideas whatsoever. 
 To conclude: this whole mystery of genera and species, 
 which make such a noise in the schools, and are with justice 
 so little regarded out of them, is nothing else but abstract 
 ideas, more or less comprehensive, with names annexed to 
 them. In all which this is constant and unvariable, that 
 every more general term stands for such an idea, and is but 
 a part of any of those contained under it. 
 
 10. TF/ty the Genus is ordinanly made Use of in Defi- 
 nitions. — This may show us the reason why, in the defining 
 of words — which is nothing but declaring their signifi- 
 cations — we make use of the genus, or next general word 
 that comprehends it. Which is not out of necessity, but only 
 to save the labour of enumerating the several simple ideas 
 which the next general word or genus stands for ; or, perhaps, 
 sometimes the shame of not being able to do it. But though 
 defining by genus and diiferentia — I crave leave to use these 
 terms of art, though originally Latin, since they most pi*o- 
 perly suit those notions they are applied to — I say, though 
 defining by the genus be the shortest way, yet I think it 
 may be doubted whether it be the best. This I am sure, it 
 is not the only; and so not absolutely necessary. For, 
 definition being nothing but making another undei-stand by 
 words what idea the term defined stands for, a definition is 
 best made by enumerating those simple ideas that are com- 
 bined in the signification of the term defined : and if, instead 
 of such an enumeration, men have accustomed themselves to 
 use the next general term, it has not been otit of necessity, 
 or for gi-eater clearness, but for quickness and dispatch sake. 
 For I think, that, to one who desired to know what idea the 
 word man stood for; if it should be said, that man was a 
 solid extended substance, having life, sense, spontaneous 
 motion, and the faculty of reasoning; I doubt not but the 
 meaning of the term man would be as well understood, and 
 the idea it stands for be at least as clearly made known as 
 when it is defined to be a rational animal : which, by the 
 several definitions of animal, vivens and corpus, resolves it- 
 self into those enumerated ideas. I have, in explaining the
 
 14 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 term man, followed here the ordinary definition of the 
 schools; which, though perhaps not the most exact, yet 
 sei'ves well enough to my present purpose. And one may, 
 in this instance, see what gave occasion to the rule, that a 
 definition must consist of genus and difierentia; and it 
 sufiices to show us the little necessity there is of such a 
 rule, or advantage in the strict observing of it. For, defi- 
 nitions, as has been said, being only the explaining of one 
 word by several others, so that the meaning or idea it stands 
 for may be certainly known; languages are not always so 
 made according to the rides of logic, that every term can 
 have its signification exactly and clearly expressed by two 
 others. Experience sufficiently satisfies us to the contraiy; 
 or else those who have made this iide have done ill, that 
 they have given us so few definitions conformable to it. But 
 of definitions more in the next chapter. 
 
 11. General and Universal are Creatures of the Under- 
 standing. — To return to general words, it is plain, by what 
 has been said, that general and universal belong not to the 
 real existence of things ; but are the inventions and creatures 
 of the understanding, made by it for its own use, and con- 
 cern only signs, whether words or ideas. Words are general, 
 as has been said, when used for signs of general ideas, and 
 so are applicable indifierently to many jiarticular things: and 
 ideas are general when they are set up as the representatives 
 of many particular things; but universality belongs not to 
 things themselves, which are all of them particular in their 
 existence, even those words and ideas which in their signi- 
 fication are general. When therefore we quit particulars, 
 the generals that rest are only creatures of our own making; 
 their general nature being nothing but the capacity they are 
 put into by the understanding, of signifying or representing 
 many particulars; for the signification they have is nothing 
 but a relation, that, by the mind of man, is added to them.* 
 
 * To this, the Bishop of Worcester objects: — "The abstracted ideas 
 are the work of the mind, yet they an-, not mere creatures of the mind; 
 as appears by an instance produced of the essence of the sun being 
 in one single individual : in which case it is granted that the idea may 
 be so abstracted tliat more suns might agree in it, and it is as much 
 a sort, as if there were as many suns as there are stars. So that here 
 we have a real essence subsisting in one individual, but capable of being 
 multij)lied into more, and the same essence remaining. But in this one
 
 CHAP. III.] OF GENERAL TERMS. 15 
 
 12. Abstract Ideas are the Essences of tlie Genera and 
 Species. — The next thing therefore to be considered is, what 
 kind of signification it is, that general words liave. For, as 
 it is evident that they do not signify barely one particular 
 thing — for then they would not be general terms, but proper 
 names — so, on the other side, it is as evident they do not 
 signify a jilurality; for man and men would then signify the 
 same, and the distinction of numbers (as the grammarians 
 call them) would be superfluous and useless. That, then, 
 which general words signify is a sort of things ; and each of 
 them does that, by being a sign of an abstract idea in the 
 mind, to which idea as things existing are found to agi-ee, 
 so they come to be ranked under that name ; or, which is 
 all one, be of that sort. Whereby it is evident that the 
 essences of the sorts, or, if the Latin word pleases better, 
 species of things, are nothing else but these abstract ideas. 
 For the having the essence of any species, being that which 
 makes anything to be of that species, and the conformity to 
 the idea to which the name is annexed being that which 
 gives a right to that name; the having the essence, and the 
 having that conformity, must needs be the same tiling; 
 since to be of any species, and to have a right to the name 
 of that species, is all one. As, for example, to be a man, or 
 of the species man, and to have right to the name man, is the 
 same thing. Again, to be a man, or of the species man, and 
 have the essence of a man, is the same thing. Now, since 
 nothing can be a man, or have a right to the name man, but 
 what has a conformity to the abstract idea the name man 
 stands for; nor anything be a man, or have a right to the 
 species man, but what has the essence of that species; it fol- 
 lows, that the abstract idea for which the name stands, and the 
 essence of the species, is one and the same. From whence it is 
 easy to observe, that the essences of the sorts of things, and, 
 consequently, the sorting of this, is the workmanship of the un- 
 derstanding, that abstracts and makes those general ideas. 
 
 sun there is a real essence, and not a mere nominal or absfraoted 
 essence. But suppose there were more suns, would not each of them 
 have the real essence of the sun ? For what is it makes the second- sun, 
 but having the same real essence with the first? If it were but a nominal 
 essence, then the second would have nothing but the name." — (For 
 Locke's reply, see Letters to the Bishop of Worcester. Appendix 
 No. VIL)— £d.
 
 1 6 OF HUMAIJ UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 13. They are the Workmcmship of the Understanding, but 
 have their Foundation in the Similitude of Things. — I would 
 not here be thought to forget, much less to deny, that 
 Nature, in the production of things, makes several of them 
 alike : there is nothing more obvious, especially in the races 
 of animals, and all things j^ropagated by seed. But yet, I 
 think, we may say the sorting of them tinder names is the 
 workmanship of the understanding, taking occasion, from the 
 similitude it observes amongst them, to make abstract ge- 
 neral ideas, and set them up in the mind, with names annexed 
 to them, as patterns or forms, (for, in that sense, the word 
 form has a very proper signification,) to which as particular 
 things existing are found to agree, so they come to be of 
 that species, have that denomination, or are put into that 
 classis. For when we say this is a man, that a hox'se; this 
 justice, that cruelty; this a watch, that a jack; what do we 
 else but rank things under different specific names, as agree- 
 ing to those abstract ideas, of which we have made those 
 names the signs 1 And what are the essences of those species 
 set out and marked by names, but those abstract ideas in the 
 mind ; which are, as it were, the bonds between particular 
 things that exist, and the names they are to be ranked 
 under? And when general names have any connexion with 
 particular beings, these abstract ideas are the medium that 
 unites them : so that the essences of species, as distinguished 
 and denominated by us, neither are nor can be anything but 
 those precise abstract ideas we have in our minds. And 
 therefore the supposed real essences of substances, if difierent 
 from our abstract ideas, cannot be the essences of the species 
 we rank things into. For two species may be one, as 
 rationally as two different essences be the essence of one 
 species: and I demand what are the alterations may or may 
 not be in a horse or lead, without making either of them 
 to be of another species'? In determining the species of 
 things by our abstract ideas, this is easy to resolve : but if 
 any one will regulate himself herein by supposed real essences, 
 he will, I suppose, be a,t a loss ; and he wiU never be able to 
 know when anything precisely ceases to be of the species of 
 a horse or lead. 
 
 14. Each distinct abstract Idea is a distinct Essence. — Nor 
 will any one wonder that I say these essences, or abstract
 
 CHAP, III.] OF GENERAL TERMS. 17 
 
 ideas (which are the measures of name, and the boundaries 
 of species) are the workmanship of the understanding, who 
 considers that, at least, the complex ones are often, in 
 several men, difFei-ent collections of simple ideas; and there- 
 fore that is covetousness to one man, which is not so to 
 another. Nay, even in substances where their abstract ideas 
 seem to be taken from the things themselves, they are not 
 constantly the same; no, not in that species which is most 
 familiar to us, and with which we have the most intimate 
 acquaintance : it having been more than once doubted, 
 whether the foetus born of a woman were a man ;* even so 
 far as that it hath been debated, whether it were or were not 
 to be nourished and baptized; which could not be, if the 
 abstract idea or essence to which the name man belonged 
 were of nature's making, and were not the uncertain and 
 various collection of simple ideas, which the understanding 
 put together, and then, abstracting it, affixed a name to it. 
 So that, in truth, every distinct abstract idea is a distinct 
 essence; and the names that stand for such distinct ideas 
 are the names of 'things essentially different. Thus a circle 
 is as essentially different from an oval as a sheep from a 
 goat; and rain is as essentially different ft*om snow as water 
 from earth : that abstract idea which is the essence of one 
 being impossible to be communicated to the other. And 
 thus any two abstract ideas, that in any part vary one from 
 another, with two distinct names annexed to them, constitute 
 two distinct sorts, or, if you please, species, as essentially 
 different as any two of the most remote or opposite in the 
 ■world. 
 
 15. Real and nominal Essence. — But since the essences of 
 things are thought by some (and not without reason) to be 
 wholly unknown, it may not be amiss to consider the several 
 significations of the word essence. 
 
 * That is, in the case of monstrous births. This subject once gave 
 rise to a long controversy between Mr. Limony and Mr. Winslow ; not, 
 indeed, with a view to determine what is the real essence of man, and 
 consequently whether anything bora of woman be of the human species 
 or not ; but simply as to their origin. The remarks of Maupertuis, 
 however, though exceedingly brief, throw more light upon the contro- 
 versy than the reasonings of the disputants themselves : (Venus Phi- 
 sique, c. 14:) and M. Sauvage, in our own day, has made monsters the 
 subject of long investigations, and considers himself to have explained 
 the whole mystery. — Ed. 
 
 VOL. II. C
 
 18 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 First, Essence may be taken for the being of anything, 
 whereby it is what it is. And thus the real internal, but 
 generally (in substances) unknown constitution of things, 
 whereon their discoverable qualities depend, may be called 
 their essence. This is the proper original signification of the 
 word, as is evident from the formation of it ; essentia, in its 
 primary notation, signifying properly, being. And in this 
 sense it is still used, when we speak of the essence of par- 
 ticular things, without giving them any name. 
 
 Secondly, The learning and disputes of the schools having 
 been much busied about genus and species, the word essence 
 has almost lost its primary signification : and, instead of the 
 real constitution of things, has been almost wholly applied to 
 the ai'tificial constitution of genus and species. It is true, 
 there is ordinarily supposed a real constitution of the sorts 
 of things; and it is past doubt there must be some real con- 
 stitution, on which any collection of simple ideas co-existing 
 must depend. But it being evident that things are ranked 
 under names into sorts or species, only as they agree to 
 certain abstract ideas to which we have annexed those 
 names ; the essence of each genus or sort comes to be nothing 
 but that abstract idea which the general, or sortal* (if I may- 
 have leave so to call it from sort, as I do general from genus) 
 name stands for. And this we shall find to be that which 
 the word essence imports in its most familiar use. These 
 two sorts of essences, I suppose, may not unfitly be termed, 
 the one the real, the other nominal essence. 
 
 16. Constant Connexion betvjeen the Na/me and noininal Es- 
 •sence. — Between the nominal essence and the name there is 
 
 so near a connexion, that the name of any sort of things 
 cannot be attributed to any particular being but what has 
 this essence, whereby it answers that abstract idea whereof 
 that name is the sign. 
 
 17. Sii/pposition, that Species are distinguished by their real 
 Essences useless. — Concerning the real essences of corporeal 
 substances — to mention these only — there are, if I mistake 
 not, two opinions. The one is of those, who, using the word 
 essence for they know not what, suppose a certain number of 
 
 * I do not find that this word, though not worse than many in 
 constant use, took root in the language. It might, however, be useful 
 where s^ectoi could not so well be employed. — Ed.
 
 CHAP. III.] OF GENERAL TERMS. 19 
 
 those essences, according to which all natural things are 
 made, and wherein they do exactly every one of tliem par- 
 take, and so become of this or that si)ecies. The other, and 
 more rational opinion is of those who look on all natural 
 things to have a real, but unknoAvn constitution of their in- 
 sensible parts ; from which How those sensible qualities which 
 serve us to distinguish them one from another, according as 
 we have occasion to rank them into sorts under common 
 denominations. The former of these opinions, which sup- 
 poses these essences as a certain number of forms or moulds, 
 wherein all natural things that exist are cast, and do equally 
 partake, has, I imagine, very much perplexed the knowledge 
 of natural things. The frequent productions of monsters, in 
 all the species of animals, and of changelings, and other 
 strange issues of human birth, carry with them difficulties, 
 not possible to consist with this hypothesis; since it is as 
 imjiossible that two tilings partaking exactly of the same 
 real essence should have different properties, as that two 
 figures partaking of the same real essence of a circle should 
 have different properties. But were there no other reason 
 against it, yet the supposition of essences that cannot be 
 known, and the making of them, nevertheless, to be that 
 which distinguishes the species of things, is so wholly useless 
 and imserviceable to any part, of our knowledge, that that 
 alone were sufficient to make us lay it by, and content our- 
 selves with such essences of the sorts or species of things as 
 come within the reach of our knowledge; which, when 
 seriously considered, will be found, as I have said, to be no- 
 thing else but those abstract complex ideas, to which we have 
 annexed distinct general names. 
 
 18. Real and nominal Essence the same in simple Ideas 
 and Modes, different in Substances. — Essences being thus dis- 
 tinguished into nominal and real, we may further observe, 
 that, in the species of simple ideas and modes, they are always 
 the same; but in substances always quite different. Thus, a 
 figure including a space between three lines, is the real as 
 well as nominal essence of a triangle; it being not only the 
 abstract idea to which the general name is annexed, but the 
 very essentia or being of the thing itself — that foundation 
 from which all its propei'ties flow, and to which they are all 
 inseparably annexed. But it is far othenvise concerning 
 
 c2
 
 20 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, [bOOK III. 
 
 that parcel of matter wliich makes the ring on my finger, 
 wherein these two essences are apparently different. For it 
 is the real constitution of its iusensible parts, on which de- 
 pend all those j^roperties of colour, weight, fusibility, fixed- 
 ness, (kc, which are to be found in it ; which constitution we 
 know not, and so having no particular idea of, have no name 
 that is the sign of it. But yet, it is its colour, weight, fusi- 
 bility, fixedness, &c., which makes it to be gold, or gives it a 
 light to that name, which is therefore its nominal essence: 
 since nothing can be called gold but what has a conformity 
 of qualities to that abstract complex idea to which that name 
 is annexed. But this distinction of essences belonging par- 
 ticularly to substances, we shall, when we come to consider 
 their names, have an occasion to treat of more fully. 
 
 19. Essences ingenerahle and incon-uptible. — That such ab- 
 stract ideas with jiames to them, as we have been speaking 
 of, are essences, may further appear by what we are told con- 
 cerning essences, viz., that they are all ingenerable and incor- 
 ruptible : which cannot be true of the real constitutions of 
 things which begin and perish with them. All things that 
 exist, besides their author, are all liable to change ; especially 
 those things we are acquainted with, and have ranked into 
 bands under distinct names or ensigns. Thus, that which 
 was grass to-day is to-moiTOw the flesh of a sheep; and, 
 within a few days after, becomes part of a man : in all which 
 and the like changes it is evident their real essence — i, e., 
 that constitution whereon the properties of these several 
 things depended — is destroyed, and ^lerishes with them. But 
 •essences being taken for ideas established in the mind, with 
 names annexed to them, they are supposed to remain steadily 
 the same, whatever mutations tlie particular substances are 
 liable to. For, whatever becomes of Alexander and Buce- 
 phalus, the ideas to which man and horse are annexed, are 
 supposed nevertheless to remain the same : and so the essences 
 of those species are preserved whole and undestroyed, what- 
 ever changes happen to any or all of the individuals of those 
 species. By this means the essence of a species rests safe and 
 entire, without the existence of so much as one individual of 
 that kind. For, were there now no circle existing anywhere 
 in the world, (as perhaps that figure exists not anywhere 
 exactly marked out,) yet the idea annexed to that name
 
 CHAP. IV.] KAMES OF SIMPLE IDEAS. 21 
 
 would not cease to be what it is ; nor cease to be as a pattern 
 to determine which of the particular figures we meet with 
 have or have not a right to the name cii'cle, and so to show 
 which of them, by having that essence, was of that species. 
 And though there neither were nor had been in nature such 
 a beast as an unicorn, or such a fish as a mermaid; yet, sup- 
 posing those names to stand for complex abstract ideas that 
 contained no inconsistency in them, the essence of a mermaid 
 is as intelligible as that of a man ; and the idea of an uni- 
 corn as certain, steady, and permanent as that of a horse. 
 - From what has been said, it is evident that the doctrine of 
 the immutability of essences proves them to be only abstract 
 ideas; and is founded on the relation established between 
 them and certain sounds as signs of them, and will always 
 be true as long as the same name can have the same sig- 
 nification. 
 
 20. Recapitulation. — To conclude: this is that which in 
 short I would say, viz., that all the great business of genera 
 and species, and their essences, amounts to no more but this : — ■ 
 That men making abstract ideas, and settling them in their 
 minds with names annexed to them, do thereby enable them- 
 selves to consider things, and discourse of them as it were in 
 bundles, for the easier and readier improvement and com- 
 munication of their knowledge; which would advance but 
 slowly were their words and thoughts confined only to 
 particulars. 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 OF THE NAMES OF SIMPLE IDEAS. > 
 
 1. Names of simple Ideas, Modes, and Substances, have each 
 something jyecidiar. — Though all words, as I have shown, 
 signify nothing immediately but the ideas in the mind of the 
 speaker; yet, upon a nearer survey, we shall find the names 
 of simple ideas, mixed modes, (under which I comprise rela- 
 tions too,) and natural substances, have each of them some- 
 thing peculiar and different from the other. For example : — 
 
 2. First, Names of simple Ideas and Stibstances intimate 
 real Existence, — First, the names of simple ideas and sub-
 
 22 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III 
 
 stances, with the abstract ideas in the mind, which they im- 
 mediately signify, intimate also some real existence, from 
 which was derived their original pattei'n. But the names of 
 mixed modes terminate in the idea that is in the mind, and 
 lead not the thoughts any further, as we shall see more at 
 large in the following chapter. 
 
 3. Secondly, Navies of simple Ideas and Modes signify al- 
 ways both real and nominal Essence. — Secondly, The names 
 of simple ideas and modes signify always the real as well 
 as nominal essence of their species. But the names of na- 
 tural substances signify rarely, if ever, anything but barely 
 the nominal essences of those species, as we shall show 
 in the chapter that treats of the names of substances in par- 
 ticular. 
 
 4. Tidrdly, Names of simple Ideas undejinahle. — Thirdly, 
 The names of simple ideas ai'e not capable of any definition ; 
 the names of all complex ideas are. It has not, that I know, 
 been yet observed by anybody what words are, and what are 
 not, capable of being defined : the want whereof is, as I am 
 apt to think, not seldom the occasion of great wrangling and 
 obscurity in men's discourses, whilst some demand definitions 
 of terms that cannot be defined; and others think they 
 ought not to rest satisfied in an explication made by a more 
 general word, and its restriction, (or to speak in terms of art, 
 by a genus and difference,) when, even after such definition 
 made according to rule, those who hear it have often no 
 more a clear conception of the meaning of the word than 
 they had before. This at least I think, that the showing 
 what words are, and what are not capable of definitions, and 
 wherein consists a good definition, is not wholly besides our 
 present purpose; and perhaps will afford so much light to 
 the nature of these signs and our ideas, as to deseirve a more 
 particular consideration. 
 
 5. If all were definable, it would he a Process in infinitum,. 
 — I will not here trouble myself to prove that all terms are 
 not definable from that progress in infinitum, which it will 
 visibly lead us into, if we should allow that all names could 
 be defined. For, if the tei-ms of one definition were still to 
 be defined by another, where at last should we stop? But I 
 shall, from the nature of our ideas, and the signification of
 
 CHAP. IV.] KAMES OF SIMPLE IDEAS. 23 
 
 our words, show why some names can aud others cannot be 
 defined, and whicK they are. 
 
 6. What a Definition is. — I think it is agreed, tliat a defi- 
 nition is nothing else but the showing the meaning of one 
 word by several other not synonymous terms. The meaning 
 of words being only the ideas they are made to stand for by 
 hiin that uses them, the meaning of any term is then showed, 
 or the word is defined, when by other words the idea it is 
 made the sign of, and annexed to, in the mind of the speakei-, 
 is as it were represented or set before the view of another ; and 
 thus its signification ascertained. This is the only use and 
 end of definitions ; and therefore the only measure of what is 
 or is not a good definition. 
 
 7. Simple Ideas, why ^indefinable. — This being premised, I 
 say that the names of simple ideas, and those only, are in- 
 capable of being defined. The reason whereof is this, that 
 the several terms of a definition, signifying several ideas, 
 they can all together by no means represent an idea, which 
 has no composition at all : and therefore, a definition, which 
 is propeily nothing but the showing the meaning of one 
 word by several others not signifying each the same thing, 
 can in the names of simple ideas have no place. 
 
 8. Instances: Motion. — The not observing this difTerence 
 in our ideas, and their names, has produced that eminent 
 trifling in the schools, which is so easy to be observed in the 
 definitions they give us of some few of these simple ideas. 
 For, as to the greatest part of them, even those masters of 
 definitions were fain to leave them untouched, merely by 
 the impossibility they found in it. What more exquisite 
 jargon coidd the wit of man invent, than this definition : — 
 " The act of a being in power, as far forth as in power?" 
 which would puzzle any rational man, to whom it was not 
 already known by its famous absurdity, to guess what word 
 it could ever be supposed to be the explication of. If TuUy, 
 asking a Dutchman what " beweeginge" was, should have 
 received this explication in his own language, that it was 
 " actus entis in potentia quatenus in potentia ; " I ask 
 whether any one can imagine he could thereby have under- 
 stood what the word "beweeginge" signified; or have guessed 
 what idea a Dutchman ordinarily had in his mind, and would 
 signify to another, when he used that sound?
 
 24 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 9. Nor have the modern philosophers, who have endea- 
 voured to throw off the jargon of the schools, and speak in- 
 telligibly, much better succeeded in defining simple ideas, 
 whether by explaining their causes, or any otherwise. The 
 atomists, who define motion to be a passage from one place 
 to another, what do they more than put one synonymous 
 word for another? for what is passage other than motion? 
 And if they were asked what passage was, how woidd they 
 better define it than by motion? Por is it not at least as 
 proper and significant to say, passage is a motion from one 
 place to another, as to say, motion is a passage? &c. This 
 is to translate, and not to define, when we change two 
 words of the same signification one for another; which, 
 when one is better understood than the other, may serve 
 to discover what idea the unknown stands for; but is very 
 far from a definition, unless we will say every English word 
 in the dictionary is the definition of the Latin word it 
 answers, and that motion is a definition of motus. Nor 
 will the successive application of the parts of the superfices 
 of one body to those of another, which the Cartesians 
 give us, prove a much better definition of motion, when well 
 examined. 
 
 10. Light. — " The act of perspicuous, as far forth as per- 
 spicuous," is another peripatetic definition of a simple idea; 
 which, though not more absurd than the former of motion, 
 yet betrays its uselessness and insignificancy more plainly, 
 because experience will easily convince any one that it cannot 
 make the meaning of the word light (which it pretends to 
 define) at all understood by a blind man; but the definition 
 of motion appears not at first sight so useless, because it 
 escapes this way of trial. For this simple idea entering by 
 the touch as well as sight, it is impossible to show an ex- 
 ample of any one, who has no other way to get the idea of 
 motion, but barely by the definition of that name. Those 
 who tell us that light is a great number of little globules, 
 striking briskly on the bottom of the eye, speak more in- 
 telligibly than the schools ; but yet these words ever so well 
 understood would make the idea the word light stands for 
 no more known to a man that understands it not before, 
 than if one should tell him that light was nothing but a 
 company of little tennis-balls, which fairies all day long
 
 CHAP. IV.] NAMES OF SIMPLE IDEAS. 25 
 
 struck with rackets against some men's foreheads, whilst 
 they passed by others. For granting this explication of the 
 thing to be true, yet the idea of the cause of light, if we had 
 it ever so exact, would no more give us the idea of light 
 itself, as it is such a particular perception in us, than the 
 idea of the figure and motion of a sharp piece of steel would 
 give us the idea of that pain which it is able to cause in us. 
 For the cause of any sensation, and the sensation itself, in all 
 the simple ideas of one sense, ai'e two ideas; and two ideas 
 so different and distant one from another, that no two can 
 be more so. And therefore, should Des Cartes's globules 
 strike ever so long on tlie retina of a man, who was blind 
 by a gutta serena, he would thereby never have any idea of 
 light, or anything approachin'g it, though he understood ever 
 so well what little globules were, and what striking on 
 another body was. And therefore the Cartesians very well 
 distinguish between that light which is the cause of that 
 sensation in vis, and the idea which is produced in us by it, 
 and is that which is properly light.* 
 
 11. Simiile Ideas, why undefinahle, further explained. — 
 Simple ideas, as has been shown, are only to be got by those 
 impressions objects themselves make on our minds, by the 
 proper inlets appointed to each sort.* If they ai-e not re- 
 ceived this way, all the words in the world made use of to 
 explain or define any of their names, will never be able to 
 produce in us the idea it stands for. For words, being 
 sounds, can produce in us no other simple ideas than of those 
 very sounds ; nor excite any in us, but by that voluntary 
 connexion which is known to be between them and those 
 
 * To abridge the labour of the reader, I subjoin Hobbes' theory of 
 light. — " His suppositis accedaraus, ad causarum dictiones, et inquLra- 
 mus primis loco causam lucis solara. Quoniain ergo corpus solare motu 
 simplice circulari circumstantein fetheream substantiam modo ad unain, 
 modo ad aliam partem, a se rejicit ita ut quae partes proximae soli sunt 
 motse ab ipso sole proximo remotiores rursus urgeant necesse est ut in 
 quacunque distantia positi oculi prematur tandem pars anterior et ea 
 parte pressa propagetur motus ad intimam organi visorii partem cor A 
 motu autem cordis oreagentis oritur per eandem retro viam conatus 
 desinens in conatu versus exteriora tunica? quae vocatur retina. Sed 
 conatus iste ea exteriora illud ipsum est quod vocatur lumen, sive phan- 
 tasma lucidi ; nam propter hoc phantasma est quod objectum, vocatur 
 lucidum." (Phifiica, ch. 27, § 2.)— Ed.
 
 2G OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [eOOK III. 
 
 simple ideas wliicli common use has made them the signs of. 
 He that thinks otherwise, let him try if any words can give 
 him the taste of a pineapj^le, and make him have the true 
 idea of the relish of that celebrated delicious frait. So far 
 as he is told it has a resemblance with any tastes, whereof 
 he has the ideas already in his memory, imprinted there by 
 sensible objects not strangers to his palate, so far may lie 
 approach that resemblance in his mind. But this is not giving 
 us that idea by a definition, but exciting in us other simple 
 ideas by their known names; which will be still very dif- 
 ferent from the true taste of that fruit itself. In light and 
 colours, and all other simple ideas, it is the same thing: for 
 the signification of soiinds is not natui'al, but only imposed 
 and arbitrary. And no definition of light or redness is 
 moi'e fitted or able to produce either of those ideas in us, 
 than the sound light or red by itself. For, to hope to pro- 
 duce an idea of light or colour by a sound, however formed, 
 is to expect that sounds should be visible or coloui's audible, 
 and to make the ears do the ofl&ce of all the other senses. 
 Which is all one as to say, that we might taste, smell, and 
 see by the ears — a sort of philosophy worthy only of Sancho 
 Panga, who had the faculty to see Dulcinea by hearsay. And 
 therefore he that has not before received into his mind by the 
 proper inlet the simple idea which any word stands for, can 
 never come to know the signification of that word by any 
 other words or sounds whatsoever, put together according to 
 any rules of defijiition. The only way is by applying to his 
 senses the proper object, and so producing that idea in him, 
 for which he has learned the name already. A studious 
 blind man, who had mightily beat his head about visible 
 objects, and made use of the explication of his books and 
 friends, to understand those names of light and colours which 
 often came in his way, bragged one day that he now under- 
 stood what scarlet signified. Upon which, his friend de- 
 manding what scarlet was, the blind man answered, It was 
 like the sound of a trumpet. Just such an understanding of 
 the name of any other simple idea will he have, who ho2:)es 
 to get it only from a definition, or other words made use of 
 to explain it. 
 
 12. Tlie contrary si town in complex Ideas, hy Instances of a
 
 CHAP. IV.] NAJIES OF SIMPLE IDEAS. 27 
 
 StatTie and Rainbow. — The case is quite otherwise in com- 
 plex ideas; which, consisting of several simple ones, it is in 
 the power of words standing for the several ideas that make 
 that composition, to imprint complex ideas in the mind, 
 which Avere never there before, and so make their names be 
 understood. In such collections of ideas ])assing under one 
 name, definition, or the teaching the signification of one word 
 by several others, has place, and may make us understand the 
 names of things which never came within the reach of our 
 senses; and frame ideas suitable to those in other men's 
 minds when they use those names : provided that none of the 
 terms of the definition stand for any such simple ideas, which 
 he to whom the explication is made has never yet had in his 
 thought. Thus the word statue may be explained to a blind 
 man by other words, when ])icture cannot ; his senses having 
 given him the idea of figure,* but not of colours, which 
 therefore woi'ds cannot excite in him. This gained the prize 
 to the painter against the statuary : each of which contend- 
 ing for the excellency of his art, and the statuary bragging 
 that his was to be preferred, because it reached further, and 
 even those who had lost their eyes, could yet pei'ceive the 
 excellency of it, the painter agreed to refer himself to the 
 jndgment of a blind man; who being brought where there 
 was a statue made by the one, and a picture drawn by the 
 other, he was first led to the statue, in which he traced with 
 his hands all the lineaments of the face and body, and with 
 great admiration applauded the skill of the workman. But 
 being led to the picture, and having his hands laid upon it, 
 was told, that now he touched the head, and then the fore- 
 head, eyes, nose, etc., as his hands moved over the parts of 
 the picture on the cloth, without finding any the least dis- 
 tinction : whereupon he cried out, that certainly that must 
 needs be a very admirable and divine piece of workmanship, 
 which could represent to them all those parts, where he could 
 neither feel nor perceive anything. 
 
 * In this view of the power of feeling to create time ideas of figure I 
 perfectly concur ; but it is wholly at variance with the crotchet advo- 
 cated in a former part of the work, (book 2. ch. ix. § 8, where see note 
 45, ) that a man who obtains from the touch only an idea of a cube and 
 the idea of a globe, would not be able by sight to distinguish the one 
 from the other. — Eu.
 
 28 OF HUMAN UNBERSTAiroiNO. [bOOK III. 
 
 1 3. He that should use the word rainbow to one who knew 
 all those colours, but yet had never seen that phenomenon, 
 would, by enumerating the figure, largeness, position, and 
 order of the colours, so well define that word, that it might 
 be perfectly understood. But yet that definition, how exact 
 and pex-fect soever, would never make a blind man understand 
 it ; because several of the simple ideas that make that comj^lex 
 one being such as he never received by sensation and expe- 
 rience, no words are able to excite them in his mind. 
 
 14. Tlie same of complex Ideas when to be made iiitelligihle 
 hy Words. — Simple ideas, as has been shown, can only be got 
 by experience from those objects which are proper to produce 
 in us those perceptions. "When by this means we have our 
 minds stored with them, and know the names for them, then 
 we are in a condition to define, and by definition to under- 
 stand the names of complex ideas that are made up of them. 
 But when any term stands for a simple idea that a man has 
 never yet had in his mind, it is impossible by any words to 
 make known its meaning to him. When any term stands 
 for an idea a man is acquainted with, but is ignorant that 
 that term is the sign of it, then another name of the same 
 idea which he has been accustomed to, may make him under- 
 stand its meaning. But in no case whatsoever is any name 
 of any simple idea capable of a definition. 
 
 15. Fourthly, Names of simple Ideas least doubtful. — 
 Foiu'thly, But though the names of simple ideas have not the 
 help of definition to determine their signification, yet that 
 hinders not but that they are generally less doubtful and 
 uncertain than those of mixed modes and substances; because 
 they standing only for one simple perception, men for the 
 most part easily and perfectly agree in their signification; 
 and there is little room for mistake and wi'angling about 
 their meaning. He that knows once that whiteness is the 
 name of that colour he has observed in snow or milk, will 
 not be apt to misapply that word as long as he retains that 
 idea; which when he has quite lost, he is not apt to mistake 
 the meaning of it, but perceives he understands it not. There 
 is neither a multiplicity of simple ideas to be put together, 
 which makes the doubtfulness in the names of mixed modes ; 
 nor a supposed, but an unknown real essence, with properties 
 depending thereon, the precise number whereof is also un-
 
 CHAP. IV.] NAMES OF SIMPLE mEAS, 29 
 
 knoAvn, which makes the difficulty in the names of substances. 
 But, on the contrary, in simple ideas the whole signification 
 of the name is known at once, and consists not of parts whereof 
 more or less being put in, the idea may be variud, and so the 
 signification of name be obscure or uncertain . 
 
 16. Simple IdecLS leave few Ascents in Ihied 2yi'(edicamentali. — 
 Fifthly, This further may be observed concerning simple 
 ideas and their names, that they have but few ascents in 
 praidicamentali, (as they call it,) from the lowest species to 
 the summuni genus. The reason whereof is, that the lowest 
 species being but one simple idea, nothing can be left out of 
 it; that so the diflerence being taken away, it may agree 
 with some other thing in one idea common to them both ; 
 which, having one name, is the genus of the other two : v. g., 
 there is nothing that can be left out of the idea of white and 
 red to make them agree in one common appearance, and so 
 have one general name; as rationality being left out of the 
 complex idea of man, makes it agree with brute in the more 
 general idea and name of animal: and therefore when, to 
 avoid unpleasant enumerations men would comprehend both 
 white and red, and several other su.ch simple ideas, under one 
 genei'al name, they have been fain to do it by a word wliich 
 denotes only the way they get into the mind. For when 
 white, red, and yellow are all comprehended under the genus 
 or name coloui', it signifies no more but such ideas as are pro- 
 duced in the mind only by the sight, and have entrance only 
 through the eyes. And when they would frame yet a more 
 general term to comprehend both colours and sounds, and the 
 like simple ideas, they do it by a word that signifies all such 
 as come into the mind only by one sense : and so the general 
 term quality, in its ordinary acceptation, comprehends colours, 
 sounds, tastes, smells, and tangible qualities, with distinction 
 from extension, number, motion, pleasiu-e, and pain, which 
 make impressions on the mind, and introduce their ideas by 
 more senses than one. 
 
 1 7. SixtMy, Names of simple Ideas not at all arbitrary/. — 
 Sixthly, The names of simple ideas, substances, and mixed 
 modes have also this difierence; — that those of mixed modes 
 stand for ideas perfectly arbiti-aiy; those of substances are 
 not perfectly so, but refer to a pattern, though with some 
 latitude; and those of simple ideas are perfectly taken from
 
 30 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK UI. 
 
 the existence of things, and are not arbitrary at all. Which, 
 what difference it makes in the significations of their names, 
 we shall see in the following chapters. 
 
 The names of sim^^le modes differ little from those of 
 simple ideas. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OP THE NAMES OF MIXED MODES AND RELATIONS. 
 
 1. They stand for abstract Ideas, as otlier general Names — 
 The names of mixed modes being general, they stand, as has 
 been shown, for soi-ts or species of things, each of which 
 has its peculiar essence. The essences of these species also, 
 as has been shown, are nothing but the abstract ideas in the 
 mind, to which the name is annexed. Thus far the names 
 and essences of mixed modes have nothing but what is 
 common to them with other ideas: but if we take a little 
 nearer survey of them, we shall find that they have some- 
 thing peculiar, which perhaps may deserve our attention. 
 
 2. First, The Ideas they stand for are viade by the Under- 
 standing. — The first particularity I shall observe in them, is, 
 that the abstract ideas, or, if you please, the essences of the 
 several species of mixed modes, are made by the understand- 
 ing, wherein they differ from those of simple ideas : in which 
 sort the mind has no power to make any one, but only re- 
 ceives such as are presented to it, by the real existence of 
 things operating upon it. 
 
 3. Secondly, Made arbitrarily and without Patterns. — In 
 the next place, these essences of the species of mixed modes 
 are not only made by the mind, but made very arbitrarily, 
 made without patterns, or reference to any real existence. 
 Wherein they differ from those of substances, wliich carry 
 with them the supposition of some real being, from which 
 they are taken, and to which they are conformable. But, in 
 its complex ideas of mixed modes, the mind takes a liberty 
 not to follow the existence of things exactly. It imites and 
 retains certain collections, as so many distinct specific ideas, 
 whilst others, that as often occur in nature, and are as 
 plainly suggested by outward things, pass neglected, without 
 particular names or specifications. Nor does the mind, iu
 
 CHAP, v.] NAMES OP MIXED MODES. 31 
 
 these of mixed modes, as in the complex idea of substances, 
 examine them by the real existence of things; or verify 
 them by patterns containing such peculiar com^jositions in 
 nature. To know whether his idea of adultery or incest be 
 right, will a man seek it anywhere amongst things existing? 
 Or is it true because any one has been witness to such an 
 action? No : but it suffices here, that men have put to- 
 gether such a collection into one complex idea, that makes 
 the archetype and specific idea, whether ever any such action 
 were committed in rerum natura or no. 
 
 4. How this is done. — To understand this right, we must 
 consider wherein this making of these complex ideas con- 
 sists; and that is not in the making any new idea, but 
 putting together those which the mind had before. Wherein 
 the mind does these three things : first, it chooses a certain 
 number; secondly, it gives them connexion, and makes them 
 into one idea; thirdly, it ties them together by a name. If 
 we examine how the mind proceeds in these, and what 
 liberty it takes in them, we shall easily observe how these 
 essences of the species of mixed modes are the workmanship 
 of the mind; and, consequently, that the species themselves 
 are of men's making. 
 
 5. Evidently arbitrary, in that the Idea is often before tlie 
 Existence. — Nobody can doubt but that these ideas of mixed 
 modes are made by a voluntary collection of ideas, pat to- 
 gether in the mind, independent from any original patterns 
 in nature, who will but reflect that this sort of complex 
 ideas may be made, abstracted, and have names given them, 
 and so a species be constituted, before any one individual of 
 that species ever existed. Who can doubt but the ideas of 
 sacrilege or adultery might be framed in the minds of men, 
 and have names given them, and so these species of mixed 
 modes be constituted before either of them was ever com- 
 mitted; and might be as well discoursed of and reasoned 
 about, and as certain truths discovered of them whilst yet 
 they had no being but in the understanding, as well as 
 now, that they have but too frequently a real existence? 
 Whereby it is plain how much the sorts of mixed modes are 
 the creatures of the understanding, where they have a being 
 as subservient to all the ends of real truth and knowledge, 
 as when they really exist. And we cannot doubt but law-
 
 32 OF THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IH, 
 
 makers have often made laws about species of actions which 
 were only the creatures of their own imderstandings — beings 
 that had no other existence but in their own minds. And 
 I think nobody can deny but that the resurrection was 
 a species of mixed modes in the mind, before it really 
 existed. 
 
 6. Instances: — Murder, Incest, Stabbing. — To see how 
 arbitrarily these essences of mixed modes are made by the 
 mind, we need but take a view of almost any of them. A 
 little looking into them will satisfy us that it is the mind 
 that combines several scattered independent ideas into one 
 complex one, and, by the common name it gives them, makes 
 them the essence of a certain species, without regulating 
 itself by any connexion they have in nature. JFor what 
 greater connexion in nature has the idea of a man, than the 
 idea of a sheep, with killing, that this is made a particular 
 species of action, signified by the word murder, and the other 
 not? Or what union is there in nature between the idea of 
 the relation of a father with killing, than that of a son or 
 neighbour, that those are combined into one complex idea, 
 and thereby made the essence of the distinct species jDarri- 
 cide, whilst the other makes no distinct species at all? But, 
 though they have made killing a man's father or mother a 
 distinct species from killing his son or daughter, yet, in 
 some other cases, son and daughter are taken in too, as well 
 as father and mother: and tliey are all equally compre- 
 hended in the same species, as in that of incest. Thus the 
 mind in mixed modes arbitrarily unites into complex ideas 
 such as it finds convenient; whilst others that have alto- 
 gether as much imion in nature, are left loose, and never 
 combined into one idea, because they have no need of one 
 name. It is evident then that the mind by its free choice 
 gives a connexion to a certain number of ideas, which in 
 nature have no more union with one another than others 
 that it leaves out: why else is the part of the weapon the 
 beginning of the wound is made with taken notice of to 
 make the distinct species called stabbing, and the figure and 
 matter of the weapon left out? I do not say this is done 
 without reason, as we shall see more by and by; but this I 
 say, that it is done by the free choice of the mind, pursuing 
 its own ends; and that, therefore, these species of mixed
 
 CHAP, v.] NAMES OF MIXED MODES. 33 
 
 modes are the wovkmansliip of the understanding : and there 
 is nothing more evident than that, for the most part, in the 
 framing these ideas, the mind searches not its patterns in na- 
 ture, nor refers the ideas it makes to the real existence of things, 
 but puts such together as may best serve its own purposes, 
 without tying itself to a precise imitation of anything that 
 really exists. 
 
 7. But still subservient to the End of Language. — But, 
 though these complex ideas or essences of mixed modes 
 depend on the mind, and are made by it with great liberty, 
 yet they are not made at random, and jumbled together 
 ^vithout any reason at all. Though these complex ideas 
 be not always copied from nature, yet they are always suited 
 to the end for which abstract ideas are made : and though 
 they be combinations made of ideas that are loose enough, 
 and have as little union in themselves as several other to 
 which the mind never gives a comiexion that combines them 
 into one idea, yet they are always made for the convenience 
 of communication, which is the chief end of language. The 
 use of language is, by short .sounds to signify with ease and 
 dispatch general conceptions; wherein not only abundance 
 of particulars may be contained, but also a gi'eat variety of 
 independent ideas collected into one complex one. In the 
 making therefore of the species of mixed modes, men have 
 had regard only to such combinations as they had occasion 
 to mention one to another: those they have combined intq 
 distinct complex ideas, and given names to ; whilst others, 
 that in nature have as near a union, are left loose and un- 
 regarded. For, to go no further than human actions them- 
 selves, if they would make distinct abstract ideas of all the 
 varieties which might be observed in them, the number must 
 be infinite, and the memory confounded with the plenty, as 
 well as overcharged to little purpose. It suffices, that men 
 make and name so many complex ideas of these mixed modes 
 as they find they have occasion to have names for, in the 
 ordinary occurrence of their affairs. If they join to the 
 idea of killing the idea of father or mother, and so make a 
 distinct species from killing a man's son or neighbour, it is 
 because of the different heinousness of the crime, and the dis- 
 tinct punishment is due to the murdering a man's father 
 and mother, difierent from what ought to be inflicted on 
 
 VOL. II. D
 
 34 OF HUMA2S UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 the murder of a son or neighbour; and therefore they find 
 it necessary to mention it by a distinct name, which is the 
 end of making that distinct combination. But though the 
 ideas of mother and daughter are so differently treated, in 
 reference to the idea of killing, that the one is joined with 
 it to make a distinct abstract idea with a name, and so a 
 distinct species, and the other not ; yet, in respect of carnal 
 knowledge, they are both taken in under incest : and that 
 still for the same convenience of expressing under one name, 
 and reckoning of one species such imclean mixtures as have a 
 peculiar turpitude beyond others ; and this to avoid circum- 
 locutions and tedious descriptions. 
 
 8. WJisreof tlie intranslatable Words of divers Lcmguages 
 are a Proof. — A moderate skill in different languages will 
 easily satisfy one of the truth of this; it being so obvious 
 to observe great store of words in one language which have 
 not any that answer them in another. Which plainly shows 
 that those of one country, by their customs and manner of 
 life, have found occasion to make several complex ideas, and 
 given names to them, which others never collected into spe- 
 cific ideas. This could not have happened if these species 
 were the steady workmanship of nature, and not collections 
 made and abstracted by the mind, in order to naming, and 
 for the convenience of communication. The terms of our 
 law, which are not empty sounds, will hardly find words that 
 answer them in the Spanish or Italian, no scanty languages ; 
 much less, I think, could any one translate them into the 
 Caribbee or Westoe tongues: and the Yersura* of the Ro- 
 mans, or Corbant of the Jews, have no words in other 
 
 * Tliis Roman law-term is thus explained byFestus: — "Versm-am 
 facere, mutuam pecuniam sumere ex eo dictum est, quod initio, qui 
 mutuabantur ab aliis, non ut domum ferrent, sed ut aliis solverent, velut 
 •vs&rterent creditorem." (p. 1004, ed. Lend.) A man was said " versu- 
 ram facere," when he borrowed from one person to pay another. (Dacier, 
 in locum.) — Ed. 
 
 t Mr. Trollope, in his note on Matthew xv. 5, furnishes a very brief 
 and satisfactory explanation of this term. From Mark xv. 11, it ap- 
 pears that Swpov here interprets the Hebrew word Kop€av. The notion 
 of Corban was this : that if a man wished to avoid supporting his parents, 
 or an}' other duty, he devoted the means of doing so to God ; not indeed 
 with the intention of applying the thing so devoted to sacred purposes, 
 but that the mere saying Let it be Corban, might make it impossible to 
 assign it to the use against which the vow was made." — Ed.
 
 CHAP, v.] NAMES OP MIXED MODES. 35 
 
 languages to answer them; the reason whereof is plain, from 
 what has been said. Nay, if we look a little more nearly 
 into this matter, and exactly compare different languages, 
 we shall find, that, though they have words which in trans- 
 lations and dictionaries are sujiposed to answer one another, 
 yet there is scarce one of ten amongst the names of complex 
 ideas, especially of mixed modes, that stands for the same 
 precise idea, which the word does that in dictionaries it is 
 rendered by. There are no ideas more common and less 
 compounded than the measures of time, extension, and weight ; 
 and the Latin names, hora, pes, libra, are without difficulty 
 rendered by the English names, hour, foot, and pound : but 
 yet there is nothing more evident than that the ideas a 
 Koman annexed to these Latin names, were very far different 
 from those which an Englishman expresses by those English 
 ones. And if either of these should make use of the measures 
 that those of the other language designed by their names, 
 he would be quite out in his account. These are too sensible 
 proofs to be doubted; and we shall find this much more so 
 in the names of more abstract and compounded ideas, such 
 as are the greatest part of those which make up moral dis- 
 courses; whose names, when men come curiously to compare 
 with those they are translated into, in other languages, they 
 will find very few of them exactly to correspond in the whole 
 extent of their significations. 
 
 9. This shows Species to he made for Communication. — The 
 reason why I take so particular notice of this, is, that we 
 may not be mistaken about genera and species, and their 
 essences, as if they were things regularly and constantly made 
 by nature, and had a real existence in things ; when they 
 appear, upon a more wary survey, to be nothing else but an 
 artifice of the understanding, for the easier signifying such 
 collections of ideas as it should often have occasion to com- 
 municate by one general term; under which divers parti- 
 culars, as far forth as they agreed to that abstract idea, might 
 be comprehended. And if the doubtful signification of the 
 word species may make it sound harsh to some, that I say 
 the species of mixed modes are made by the understanding; 
 yet, I think, it can by nobody be denied that it is the mind 
 makes those abstract complex ideas, to which specific names 
 are given. And if it be ti-ue, as it is, that the mind makes 
 
 d2
 
 36 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 the patterns for sorting and naming of things, I leave it to 
 be considered who makes the boundaries of the sort or species ; 
 since with me species and sort have no other diffei-ence than 
 that of a Latin and English idiom. 
 
 10. In mixed Modes it is the Ncrnie that ties tJie Combina- 
 tion together, and makes it a Species. — The near relation that 
 there is between species, essences, and their general name — 
 at least in mixed modes — will further appear when we con- 
 sider that it is the name that seems to preserve those essences, 
 and give them their lasting duration. For the connexion 
 between the loose parts of those complex ideas being made 
 by the mind, this u.nion, which has no particular foundation 
 in nature, would cease again, were there not something that 
 did, as it were, hold it together, and keep the parts from 
 scattering. Though therefore it be the mind that makes 
 the collection, it is the name which is as it were the knot 
 that ties them fast together. What a vast variety of dif- 
 ferent ideas does the word triumphus hold together, and 
 deliver to us as one species! Had this name been never 
 made, or quite lost, we might, no doubt, have had descrip- 
 tions of what passed in that solemnity: but yet, I think, 
 that which holds those different parts together, in the unity 
 of one complex idea, is that very word annexed to it; with- 
 out which the several parts of that would no more be thought 
 to make one thing, than any other show, which having never 
 been made but once, had never been united into one com- 
 plex idea, under one denomination. How much, therefox'e, 
 in mixed modes, the unity necessary to any essence depends 
 
 . on the mind, and how much the continuation and fixing of 
 that imity depends on the name in common use annexed 
 to it, I leave to be considered by those who look upon 
 essences and species as real established things in nature. 
 
 11. Suitable to this, we find that men speaking of mixed 
 modes, seldom imagine or take any other for species of them, 
 but such as are set out by name ; because they being of man's 
 making only, in order to naming, no such species are taken 
 notice of, or supposed to be, unless a name be joined to it, as 
 the sign of man's having combined into one idea several loose 
 ones ; and by that name giving a lasting union to the parts, 
 which would otherwise cease to have any, as soon as the 
 mind laid by that abstract idea, and ceased actually to think
 
 CHAP, v.] NAMES OF MIXED MODES. 37 
 
 on it. But when a name is once annexed to it, wherein the 
 parts of that complex idea have a settled and permanent 
 union, then is the essence, as it were, established, and the 
 species looked on as comi)lete. For to what purpose should 
 the memory charge itself with such compositions, vmless it 
 were by abstraction to make them general? And to what 
 purpose make them general, unless it wei-e that they might 
 have general names for the convenience of discourse and 
 communication? Thus we see, that killing a man with a 
 sword or a hatchet are looked on as no distinct species of 
 action ; but if the point of the sword first enter the body, it 
 passes for a distinct species, where it has a distinct name ; as 
 in England, in whose language it is called stabbing; but in 
 another country, where it has not happened to be specified 
 under a peculiar name, it j^asses not for a distinct species. 
 But in the species of corporeal substances, though it be the 
 mind that makes the nominal essence; yet since those ideas 
 which are combined in it ax'e supposed to have an union in 
 natm'e, whether the mind joins them or not, therefore those 
 are looked on as distinct names, without any operation of 
 the mind, either abstracting or giving a name to that com- 
 plex idea. 
 
 12. For the Originals of mixed Modes, we look no further 
 thin the Mind, which also shows them to he the Workmanship 
 of the Understanding. — Conformable also to what has been 
 said concerning the essences of the species of mixed modes, 
 that they are the creatures of the understanding rather than 
 the works of nature; conformable, I say, to this, we find 
 that their names lead our thoughts to the mind, and no 
 further. When we speak of justice, or gratitude, we frame 
 to ourselves no imagination of anything existing, which we 
 would conceive; but our thoughts terminate in the abstract 
 ideas of those virtues, and look not further, as they do 
 when we speak of a horse, or iron, whose specific ideas we 
 consider not as barely in the mind, but as in things them- 
 selves, which afford the original patterns of those ideas. But 
 in mixed modes, at least the most considerable parts of them, 
 which are moral beings, we consider the original j)atterns as 
 being in the mind, and to those we refer for the distinguish- 
 ing of particular beings under names. And hence I think it 
 is that these essences of the species of mixed modes are by a
 
 38 OF HUMAN UNDEBSTAlrt)IN"G. [bOOK III. 
 
 more particular name called notions, as, by a peculiar right, 
 appertaining to the understanding. 
 
 13. Tlieir being raade by tlie Understanding vnthout Pat- 
 terns, shows tJie Reason why they a/re so compounded. — Hence, 
 likewise, we may learn why the complex ideas of mixed 
 modes are commonly more compounded and decompounded, 
 than those of natui-al substances; because they being the 
 workmanship of the understanding, pursuing only its own 
 ends, and the conveniency of expressing in short those ideas 
 it would make known to another, it does with great liberty 
 unite often iato one abstract idea things, that, in their nature, 
 have no coherence; and so under one term bimdle together a 
 great variety of compounded and decompounded ideas. Thus 
 the name of procession, what a great mixture of independent 
 ideas of persons, habits, tapers, orders, motions, sounds, does 
 it contain in that complex one, which the mind of man has 
 arbitrarily put together, to express by that one name ! whereas 
 the complex ideas of the sorts of substances are usually made 
 up of only a small number of simple ones ; and in the species 
 of animals, these two, viz., shape and voice, commonly make 
 the whole nominal essence. 
 
 14. Nannes of mixed Modes stand always for their real 
 Essences. — Another thing we may observe from what has 
 been said, is, that the names of mixed modes always signify 
 (when they have any determined signification) the real essences 
 of their species. For these abstract ideas being the work- 
 manship of the mind, and not referred to the real existence 
 of things, there is no supposition of anything more signified 
 by that name, but barely that complex idea the mind itself 
 has formed, vs^hich is all it woidd have expressed by it, and 
 is that on which all the properties of the species depend, and 
 from which alone they all flow : and so in these the real and 
 nominal essence is the same, which, of what concernment it 
 is to the certain knowledge of general truth, we shall see 
 hereafter. 
 
 15. Why their Names are usually got before their Ideas.— 
 This also may show us the reason why for the most part the 
 names of mixed modes are got before the ideas they stand for 
 are perfectly known ; because, there being no species of these 
 ordinarily taken notice of but what have names, and those 
 species, or rather their essences, being abstract complex ideas
 
 CHAP, v.] NAMES OF MIXED MODES. 39 
 
 made arbitrarily by the mind, it is convenient, if not neces- 
 sary, to know the names, before one endeavour to frame these 
 complex ideas; unless a man will fill his head with a com- 
 pany of abstract complex ideas, which, others having no 
 names for, he has nothing to do with, but to lay by and 
 forget again. I confess, that in the beginning of languages 
 it was necessary to have the idea before one gave it the 
 name, and so it is still, where, making a new complex idea, 
 one also, by giving it a new name, makes a new word. But 
 this concerns not languages made, which have generally 
 pretty well provided for ideas which men have frequent 
 occasion to have and commimicate; and in such, I ask whe- 
 ther it be not the ordinary method, that childj-en learn the 
 names of mixed modes before they have their ideas'? What 
 one of a thousand ever frames the abstract ideas of glory and 
 ambition, before he has heard the names of them? In 
 simple ideas and substances I grant it is othei'wise; which, 
 being such ideas as have a real existence and union in nature, 
 the ideas and names are got one before the other, as it 
 happens. 
 
 16. Reason of my being so large on this Subject. — What has 
 been said here of mixed modes is, with very little difierence, 
 applicable also to relations; which, since every man himself 
 may observe, I may spare myself the pains to enlarge on : 
 especially, since what I have here said concerning words in 
 this third book, will possibly be thought by some to be much 
 more than what so slight a subject required. I allow it 
 might be brought into a narrower compass; but I was wil- 
 ling to stay my reader on an argument that appears to me 
 new and a little out of the way, (I am snre it is one I 
 thought not of when I began to write,) that, by searching it 
 to the bottom, and turning it on every side, some pai-t or 
 other might meet with every one's thoughts, and give occa- 
 sion to the most averse or negligent to reflect on a general 
 miscarriage, which, though of great consequence, is little 
 taken notice of. When it is considered what a pudder is 
 made about essences, and how much all sorts of knowledge, 
 discourse, and conversation are pestered and disordered by 
 the careless and confused use and application of words, it 
 will perhaps be thought worth while thoroughly to lay it 
 open; and I shall be pardoned if I have dwelt long on an
 
 40 OF HUMAN UXDERSTANDIXG. [bOOK HI. 
 
 argument which I think, therefore, needs to be inculcated, 
 because the faults men are usually guilty of in this kind, are 
 not only the gi-eatest hindrances of true knowledge, but are 
 so well thought of as to jmss for it. Men would often see 
 what a small pittance of reason and truth, or possibly none 
 at all, is mixed with those huffing opinions they are swelled 
 with, if they would but look beyond fashionable sounds, and 
 observe what ideas are or are not comprehended under those 
 words with which they are so armed at all points, and with 
 which they so confidently lay about them. I shall imagine 
 I have done some sendee to truth, peace, and learning, if, by 
 any enlargement on this subject, I can make men reflect on 
 their own use of language, and give them reason to suspect, 
 that, since it is frequent for others, it may also be possible 
 for them to have sometimes very good and approved words 
 in their mouths and writings, with very uncertain, little, or 
 no signification. And therefore it is not unreasonable for 
 them to be wary herein themselves, and not to be unwilling 
 to have them examined by others. With this design, there- 
 fore, I shall go on with what I have farther to say concerning 
 this matter. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 OF THE NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 
 
 1. The common Names of Substances stand for Sorts. — The 
 common names of substances, as well as other general terms, 
 stand for sorts; which is nothing else but the being made 
 .signs of such complex ideas, wherein several particular sub- 
 stances do or might agree, by virtue of which they are 
 capable of being comprehended in one common conception, 
 and signified by one name. I say do or might agree, for 
 though there be but one sun existmg in the world, yet the 
 idea of it being abstracted, so that more substances (if there 
 were several) might each agree in it, it is as much a sort 
 as if there were as many sims as there are stars.* They 
 want not their reasons who think there Siv^, and that each 
 fixed star would answer the idea the name sun stands for, 
 
 * Modern astronomy has ascertained, that the stars are in reality 
 suns ; that is, the centres of systems like our own. — Ed.
 
 CHAP VI. NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 41 
 
 to one who was placed in a due distance; whicli, by the 
 way, may show us how much the sorts, ov, if you please, 
 genei'a and species of things (for those Latin terms signify 
 to me no more than the English word sort) depend on 
 such collections of ideas as men have made, and not on the 
 real nature of things; since it is not impossible but that, 
 in i^ropriety of speech, that might be a sun to one which is 
 a star to another. 
 
 2. The Essence of each Sort is the abstract Idea. — The 
 measure and boundary of each sort or species whereby it is 
 constituted that particular sort, and distinguished from 
 others, is that we call its essence, which is nothing but that 
 abstract idea to which the name is annexed ; so that every- 
 thing contained in that idea is essential to that sort. This, 
 though it be all the essence of natm-al substances that we 
 know, or by which we distinguish them into sorts, yet I call 
 it by a peculiar name, the nominal essence, to distinguish it 
 from the real constitution of substances, upon which depends 
 this nominal essence, and all the pi'operties of that sort; 
 which, therefore, as has been said, may be called the real 
 essence; v. g., the nominal essence of gold is that complex 
 idea the word gold stands for, let it be, for instance, a body 
 yellow, of a certain weight, malleable, fusible, and fixed. But 
 the real essence is the constitution of the insensible parts of 
 that body, on which those qualities and all the other properties 
 of gold depend. How far these two are diflerent, though 
 they are both called essence, is obvious at first sight to 
 discover. 
 
 3. The nominal and Essence different. — For though per- 
 haps voluntary motion, with sense and reason, joined to a 
 body of a certain shape, be the complex idea to which I 
 and others annex the name man, and so be the nominal 
 essence of the species so called, yet nobody will say that 
 complex idea is the real essence and soiu'ce of all those 
 operations which are to be found in any individual of that 
 sort. The foundation of all those qualities which are the in- 
 gredients of our complex idea, is something quite different : 
 and had we such a knowledge of that constitution of man, 
 from which his faculties of moving, sensation, and reasoning, 
 and other powers flow, and on whicli his so regular shape 
 depends, as it is possible angels have, and it is certain his
 
 42 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III, 
 
 Maker has, "we should have a quite other idea of his essence 
 than what now is contained in our definition of that species, 
 be it what it will; and our idea of any individual man 
 woidd be as far different from what it is now, as is his who 
 knows all the springs and wheels and other contrivances 
 within of the famous clock at Strasburg, from that which a 
 gazing countryman has for it, who barely sees the motion of 
 the hand, and hears the clock strike, and observes only some 
 of the outward appearances.* 
 
 4. Nothing essential to Individuals. — That essence, in the 
 ordinary use of the word, relates to sorts, and that it is con- 
 sidered in particular beings no further than as they are 
 ranked into sorts, apjiears from hence ; that, take but away 
 the abstract ideas by which we sort individuals, and rank 
 them under common names, and then the thought of any- 
 thing essential to any of them instantly vanishes; we have 
 no notion of the one without the other, which plainly shows 
 their relation. It is necessary for me to be as I am; God 
 and nature has made me so; but there is nothing I have is 
 essential to me. An accident or disease may very much 
 alter my colour or shape; a fever or fall may take away my 
 reason or memory, or both, and an apoplexy leave neither 
 sense nor understanding, no, nor life. Other creatures of my 
 shape may be made with more and better, or fewer and worse 
 faculties than I have; and others may have reason and sense 
 in a shape and body very different from mine. None of 
 these are essential to the one or the other, or to any in- 
 dividual whatever, till the mind refers it to some sort or 
 species of things ; and then presently, according to the 
 
 * Several of our older travellers have spoken of the great clock at 
 Strasburg, but Skippon's brief description will suffice to give the reader 
 who happens not to have the others at hand, a sufficient idea of this 
 cunous piece of mechanism : " We saw here the famous clock described 
 by Tom Coryat. Towards the bottom is a great cirale, with the ca- 
 lendar, (a figure pointing to the day of the month,) and within that 
 are fifteen other cucles, each being divided into one hundred parts, the 
 calendar lasting from 1573 to 1672. In the middle is a map of Germany, 
 and on it is written, ' Conradiis Dasypodius et David Wolkenstein Vratist 
 designabant Thohias Stunner, pingebat, A.D. mdlxxiii.' The clock-work 
 was made by one Isaac Habrechtus, of Strasburg. When the clock 
 strikes, a little figure keeps time at every stroke, with a sceptre, and 
 another figure turns an hour-glass, and twelve apostles follow one another, 
 and a cock crows." (Ap. Churchill, Vol. VI. 457.) — Ed.
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 43 
 
 abstract idea of that sort, something is found essential. 
 Let any one examine his own thoughts, and he will find that 
 sm soon as he supposes or speaks of essential, tlie consi- 
 deration of some species, or the complex idea signified by 
 some general name comes into his mind; and it is in re- 
 ference to that, that this or that quality is said to be essentiaL 
 So that if it be asked, whether it be essential to me or any 
 other particular corporeal being to have reason? I say, no; 
 no more than it is essential to this white thing T write on 
 to have words in it. But if that particular being be to be 
 counted of the sort man, and to have the name man given 
 it, then reason is essential to it, supposing reason to be a 
 part of the complex idea the name man stands for; as it is 
 essential to this thing I Avi'ite on to contain words if I will 
 give it the name treatise, and rank it under that species. 
 So that essential and not essential relate only to our abstract 
 ideas, and the names annexed to them; which amounts to no 
 
 , more than this, that whatever particular thing has not in 
 it those qualities which are contained in the abstract idea 
 ■which any general term stands for, cannot be ranked under 
 
 . that species nor be called by that name, since that abstract 
 idea is the very essence of that species. 
 
 5. Thus, if the idea of body with some people be bare ex- 
 tension or space, then solidity is not essential to body; if 
 others make the idea to which they give the name body to 
 be solidity and extension, then solidity is essential to body. 
 That, therefore, and that alone is considered as essential, 
 which makes a part of the complex idea the name of a sort 
 stands for, without which no particular thing can be reckoned 
 of that sort, nor be entitled to that name. Should there be 
 found a parcel of matter that had all the other qualities that 
 are in iron, but wanted obedience to the loadstone, and would 
 neither be drawn by it nor receive direction from it, would 
 any one question whether it wanted anything essential? It 
 would be absurd to ask, whether a thing really existing 
 wanted anything essential to it; or could it be demanded, 
 whether this made an essential or specific difierence or not, 
 since we have no other measure of essential or specific but 
 our abstract ideas? And to talk of specific difierences in 
 nature, without reference to general ideas in names, is to 
 talk unintelligibly. For I would ask any one, what is
 
 44 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 sufficient to make an essential difference in nature between 
 any two particular beings, without any regard had to some 
 abstract idea, which is looked upon as the essence and 
 standard of a species? All such pattei'ns and standards 
 being quite laid aside, particular beings, considered barely in 
 themselves, will be found to have all their qualities equally 
 essential ; and everything in each individi^al will be essential 
 to it, or, which is more, nothing at all. For though it may 
 be reasonable to ask, whether obeying the magnet be essen- 
 tial to iron? yet I think it is very improper and insig- 
 nificant to ask, whether it be essential to the particixlar 
 parcel of matter I cut my pen with, without considering it 
 under the name iron, or as being of a certain species'? And 
 if, as has been said, our abstract ideas which have names 
 annexed to them are the boundaries of species, nothing can 
 be essential but what is contained in those ideas. 
 
 6. It is true, I have often mentioned a real essence, distinct 
 in substances from those abstract ideas of them, which I call 
 their nominal essence. By this real essence I mean the real 
 constitution of anything, which is the foundation of all those 
 properties that are combined in, and are constantly found to 
 co-exist with the nominal essence; that particular constitu- 
 tion which everything has within itself, without any relation 
 to anything without it. But essence, even in tlais sense, 
 relates to a sort, and supposes a species; for being that real 
 constitution on which the properties depend, it necessarily 
 supposes a sort of things, properties belonging only to species, 
 and not to individuals; v. g., supposing the nominal essence 
 of gold to be a body of such a peculiar colour and weight, 
 with malleability and fusibility, the real essence is that con- 
 stitution of the parts of matter on which these qualities and 
 their union depend; and is also the foundation of its solu- 
 bility in aqua regia and other properties, accompanying that 
 complex idea. Here are essences and properties, but all upon 
 supposition of a sort or general abstract idea, which is con- 
 sidered as immutable; but there is no individual parcel of 
 matter to which any of these qualities are so annexed as to 
 be essential to it or inseparable from it. That which is essen- 
 tial belongs to it as a condition, whereby it is of this or that 
 sort; but take away the consideration of its being ranked 
 under the name of some abstract idea, and then there is
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 45 
 
 •nothing necessary to it, nothing inseparable from it. In- 
 deed, as to the real essences of substances; we only snpjiose 
 their being, without jjrecisely knowing what they are; but 
 that which annexes them still to the species is the nominal 
 essence, of which they are the supposed foundation and 
 cause. 
 
 7. Tim nominal Essence hounds the Species. — The next 
 thing to be considered is, by which of those essences it is 
 that substances are determined into sorts or species; and 
 that, it is evident, is by the nominal essence; for it is that 
 alone that the name, which is the mark of the sort, signifies. 
 It is impossible, therefoi'e, that anything should determine 
 the sorts of things, which we rank under general names, but 
 that idea which that name is designed as a mark for; which 
 is that, as has been shown, which we call nominal essence. 
 Why do we say this is a horse, and that a mule; this is an 
 an animal, that an herb ? How comes any particular thing 
 to be of this or that sort, but because it has that nominal 
 essence, or, which is all one, agrees to that abstract idea that 
 name is annexed tol And I desire any one but to reflect on 
 his own thoughts, when he hears or speaks any of those or 
 other names of substances, to know what sort of essences they 
 stand for. 
 
 8. And that the species of things to us are nothing but the 
 ranking them under distinct names, according to the complex 
 ideas in us, and not according to precise, distinct, real essences 
 in them, is plain from hence : that we find many of the indi- 
 viduals that are ranked into one sort, called by one common 
 name, and so received as being of one species, have yet qua- 
 lities depending on their real constitutions, as far difierent 
 one from another as from others from which they are 
 accounted to differ specifically. This, as it is easy to be, 
 observed by all who have to do with natural bodies, so 
 chemists especially are often, by sad experience, convinced of 
 it, when they, sometimes in vain, seek for the same qualities 
 in one parcel of sulphur, antimony, or vitriol, which they 
 have found in others. For, though they are bodies of the 
 same species, having the same nominal essence, under the 
 same name, yet do they often, upon severe ways of examina- 
 tion, betray qualities so different one from another, as to 
 frustrate the expectation and labour of very waiy chemists.
 
 46 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 But if things were distinguished into species, according to 
 their real essences, it would be as impossible to find difierent 
 properties in any two individual substances of the same 
 species, as it is to find different properties in two circles, or 
 two equilateral triangles. That is properly the essence to 
 us, which determines every particular to this or that classis ; 
 or, which is the same thing, to this or that general name : 
 and what can that be else, but that abstract idea to which 
 that name is annexed; and so has, in truth, a reference, 
 not so much to the being of particular things, as to their 
 general denominations? 
 
 9. Not tlie real Essence, which we know Twt. — Nor indeed 
 can we rank and sort things, and consequently (which is the 
 end of sorting) denominate them by their real essences; be- 
 cause we know them not. Our faculties carry us no further 
 towards the knowledge and distinction of substances, than a 
 collection of those sensible ideas which we observe in them; 
 which, however made with the greatest diligence and exact- 
 ness we are capable of, yet is more remote from the true 
 internal constitution from which those qualities flow, than, 
 as I said, a countryman's idea is from the inward contrivance 
 of that famous clock at Strasburg, whereof he only sees the 
 outward figure and motions. There is not so contemptible 
 a plant or animal, that does not confound the most enlarged 
 understanding. Though the familiar use of things about us 
 take ofi" our wonder, yet it cui-es not oiu- ignorance. When 
 we come to examine the stones we tread on, or the iron we 
 daily handle, we presently find we know not their make, and 
 can give no reason of the difierent qualities we find in them. 
 It is evident the internal constitution, whereon their proper- 
 ties depend, is unknown to us ; for to go no further than the 
 grossest and most obvious we can imagine amongst them, 
 what is that texture of parts, that real essence, that makes 
 lead and antimony fusible, wood and stones not? What 
 makes lead and iron malleable, antimony and stones not? 
 And yet how infinitely these come short of the fine contri- 
 vances and inconceivable real essences of plants or animals, 
 every one knows. The workmanship of the all-wise and 
 powerful God in the great fabric of the universe, and every 
 part thereof, further exceeds the capacity and comprehension 
 of the most inquisitive and intelligent man, than the best
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OP SUBSTANCES. 47 
 
 contrivance of the most ingenious man doth the conceptions 
 of the most ignorant of rational creatures. Therefoi-e we in 
 vain pretend to range things into sorts, and dispose them 
 into certain classes under names, by their real essences, that 
 are so far from our discovery or comprehension. A blind 
 man may as soon sort things by their colours, and he that 
 has lost his smell as well distinguish a lily and a rose by 
 their odours, as by those internal constitutions which he 
 knows not. He that thinks he can distinguish sheep and 
 goats by their real essences, that are unknown to him, may 
 be pleased to try his skill in those species called cassiowary 
 and querechinchio, and by their internal real essences deter- 
 mine the boundaries of those species, without knowing the 
 complex idea of sensible qualities that each of those names 
 stand for, in the countries where those animals are to be 
 found. 
 
 10. Not substantial Forms, which we Jcnow less. — Those, 
 therefore, who have been taught that the several species of 
 substances had their distinct intei'nal substantial forms ; and 
 that it was those forms which made the distinction of sub- 
 stances into their true species and genera, were led yet fur- 
 ther out of the way by having their minds set upon fruitless 
 inquiries after substantial forms, wholly unintelligible, and 
 whereof we have scarce so much as any obscure or confused 
 conception in general. 
 
 11. Tlutt the nominal Essence is that wlierehy we distinguish 
 Species, further evident from Spirits. — That our ranking and 
 distinguishing natural substances into species consists in the 
 nominal essences the mind makes, and not in the real es- 
 sences to be found in the things themselves, is further evident 
 from our ideas of spirits ; for the mind getting only by re- 
 flecting on its own operations those simple ideas which it 
 attributes to spirits, it hath or can have no other notion of 
 spirit but by attributing all those operations it finds in itself 
 to a sort of beings, without consideration of matter. And 
 even the most advanced notion we have of God is but attri- 
 buting the same simple ideas which we have got from reflec- 
 tion on what we find in ourselves, and which we conceive 
 to have more perfection in them than would be in their ab- 
 sence; attributing, I say, those simple ideas to him in an 
 unlimited degree. Thus, having got from reflecting on our-
 
 48 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [boOK III. 
 
 selves the idea of existence, knowledge, power, and pleasure 
 — each of which we find it better to have than to want; 
 and the more we have of each the better — joining all these 
 together, with infinity to each of them, we have the complex 
 idea of an eternal, omniscient, omnipotent, infinitely wise 
 and happy being. And though we are told that there are 
 different species of angels ; yet we know not how to frame 
 distinct specific ideas of them : not out of any conceit that 
 the existence of more species than one of spirits is impossi- 
 ble, but because having no more simple ideas (nor being 
 able to frame more) applicable to such beings, but only those 
 few taken from ourselves, and from the actions of our own 
 minds in thinking, and being delighted, and moving several 
 parts of our bodies, we can no otherwise distinguish in our 
 conceptions the several species of spirits one from another, 
 but by attributing those operations and powers we find in 
 ourselves to them in a higher or lower degree; and so have 
 no very distinct specific ideas of spirits, except only of God, 
 to whom we attribute both dui-ation and all those other 
 ideas with infinity; to the other spirits, with limitation. 
 Nor, as I humbly conceive, do we, between God and them 
 in our ideas, put any difference by any number of simple 
 ideas which we have of one and not of the other, but only 
 that of infinity.* All the particular ideas of existence, 
 knowledge, will, power, and motion, &c., being ideas derived 
 from the operations of our minds, we attribute all of them 
 to all sorts of spirits, with the difierence only of degrees, to 
 the utmost we can imagine, even infinity, when we would 
 frame as well as wo can an idea of the first being; who yet, 
 it is certain, is infinitely moi-e remote, in the real excellency 
 of his nature, from the highest and perfectest of all created 
 
 • Hence the employment of angels as agents in poetry always proves 
 a cold and lifeless contrivance, compared, at least, with the introduction 
 of human actors. We can scarcely be made to sympathize with natures 
 entirely unknown to us ; and it is only by regarding God as the author 
 of our existence, as our great parent, that we can be said actually to 
 love him. He is to us what a father is to the child who has never seen 
 him. Our own existence proves his — our intelligence his wisdom — our 
 happiness his goodness — our afflictions the existence of sin, and the ne- 
 cessity of chastisement. We can therefore love God with an affectionate 
 love, with a love which constitutes the purest bliss of all who feel it. 
 But of angels we know nothing. — Ed.
 
 CUAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 49 
 
 beings, than the greatest man, nay, pnrest seraph, is from 
 the most contemptible part of matter; and consequently 
 must infinitely exceed what our narrow understandings can 
 conceive of him. 
 
 12. Whereof tliere are prohahly numberless Sjiecies. — It is 
 not imi^ossible to conceive nor repugnant to reason, that 
 there may be many species of spirits, as much separated and 
 diversified one from another by distinct properties whereof 
 we have no ideas, as the species of sensible things are dis- 
 tinguished one from another by qualities which we know 
 and observe in them. That there should be more species of 
 intelligent creatures above us than there are of sensible and 
 material below us, is probable to me from hence, that in all 
 the visible corporeal world, we see no chasms or gaps.* All 
 quite doAvn from us the descent is by easy steps, and a con- 
 tinued series of things, that in each remove differ very little 
 one from the other. There are fishes that have wings, and 
 are not strangers to the airy region; and there are some 
 birds that are inhabitants of the water whose blood is cold 
 as fishes, and their flesh so like in taste, that the scrupulous 
 are allowed them on fish-days. There are animals so near of 
 kin both to birds and beasts that they are in the middle 
 between both : amphibious animals link the terrestrial and 
 aquatic together; seals live at land and sea, and porpoises 
 have the warm blood and entrails of a hog, not to mention 
 what is confidently reported of mermaids, or sea-men. There 
 are some brutes that seem to have as much knowledge -and 
 
 * Pope has clothed this opinion with exquisite versification; and, 
 in itself, it is not, though a mere conjecture, inconsistent with phi- 
 losophy. It wiU, however, occur to every man, that between the 
 highest of created beings and his Creator, there must always be an 
 infinite gap. The very temis Creator and created suggest thus much. 
 However, Pope escapes all difiiculties by the brevity of his exposition, 
 which will admit of more than one interpretation : — 
 
 " See, through this air, this ocean, and this earth, 
 AU matter quick, and bursting into birth. 
 Above, how high progressive life may go ! 
 Around, how wide ! how deep extend below ! 
 Vast chain of being ! which from, God began. 
 Nature's ethereal, human, angel, man, 
 Beast, bird, fish, insect, wliat no eye can see, 
 No glass can reach from infinite to thee, 
 From thee to nothing." — Essay on Man, 1. § 8. — Ed. 
 VOL. II. E
 
 50 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 reason as some that are called men; and the animal and ve- 
 getable kingdoms are so nearly joined, that, if you will take 
 the lowest of one and the highest of the other, there will 
 scarce be perceived any great difference between them; and 
 so on, till we come to the lowest and the most inorganical 
 parts of matter, we shall find everywhere that the several 
 species are linked together, and differ but in almost insensible 
 degrees. And when we consider the infinite power and 
 wisdom of the Maker, we have reason to think that it is 
 suitable to the magnificent harmony of the universe, and 
 the great design and infinite goodness of the Architect, that 
 the species of creatures should also, by gentle degrees, ascend 
 upward from us toward his infinite perfection, as we see they 
 gradually descend from us downwards : which if it be pro- 
 bable, we have reason then to be persuaded that there are 
 far more species of creatui'es above us than there are be- 
 neath : we being, in degrees of perfection, much more remdte 
 from the infinite being of God than we are from the lowest 
 state of being, and that which approaches nearest to nothing. 
 And yet, of all those distinct species, for the reasons above- 
 said, we have no clear distinct ideas. 
 
 1 3. Tlie nominal Essence tluit of the Species, j^t'oved Jrom 
 Water and Ice. — But to return to the species of corporeal 
 substances. If I should ask any one whether ice and water 
 were two distinct species of things, I doubt not but I should 
 be answered in the affirmative : and it cannot be denied but 
 he that says they are two distinct species is in the right. 
 But if an Englishman bred in Jamaica, who perhaps had 
 .never seen nor heard of ice, coming into England in the 
 winter, find the water he put in his basin at night in a great 
 part frozen in the morning, and, not knowing any peculiar 
 name it had, should call it hardened water; I ask whether 
 this would be a new species to him different from water? 
 And I think it would be answered here, it would not be to 
 him a new species, no more than congealed jelly, when it is 
 cold, is a distinct species from the same jelly fluid and warm; 
 or than liquid gold in the furnace is a distinct species from 
 hard gold in the hands of a workman. And if this be so, 
 it is plain that our distinct species are nothing but distinct 
 complex ideas, with distinct names annexed to them. It is 
 true every substance that exists has its peculiar constitution,
 
 Chap, vi.] names of substances. 51 
 
 whereou depend those sensible qualities and powers we ob- 
 serve in it; but the ranking of things into sjiecies (which 
 is nothing but sorting them mider several titles) is doiie by 
 us according to the ideas that we have of them : which, though 
 sufficient to distinguish them by names, so that we may be 
 able to discoui'se of them when we have them not j^resont 
 before us; yet if we suppose it to be done by their real in- 
 ternal constitutions, and that things existing are distinguished 
 by nature into species by real essences, according as we dis- 
 tinguish them into species by names, we shall be liable to 
 great mistakes. 
 
 14. Difficulties against a certain Nuiniber of real Essences. — 
 To distinguish substantial beings into species, according to 
 the usual supposition, that there are certain precise essences 
 or forms of things, whereby all the individuals existing are by 
 nature distinguished into species, these things are necessary : — 
 
 15. First, to be assured that nature in the production of 
 things always designs them to partake of certain regixlated 
 established essences, which are to be the models of all things 
 to be produced. This, in that crude sense it is usually pro- 
 posed, wovild need some better explication before it can fully 
 be assented to. 
 
 16. Secondly, It would be necessary to know whether 
 nature always attains that essence it designs in the prodiio- 
 tion of things. The irregular and monstrous births, that in 
 divers sorts of animals have been observed, will always give 
 us reason to doubt of one or both of these. 
 
 17. Thirdly, It ought to be determined whether those we 
 call monsters be really a distinct species, according to the 
 scholastic notion of the word species ; since it is certain that 
 every tiling that exists has its particular constitution : and yet 
 we find that some of these monstrous productions have few 
 or none of those qualities which are supposed to result from, 
 and accompany the essence of that species from whence they 
 derive their originals, and to which, by their descent, they 
 seem to belong. 
 
 18. Our nominal Essences of Substances not perfect Collec- 
 tions of Properties. — Fourthly, The real essences of those 
 things which we distinguish into species, and as so distin- 
 guished we name, ought to be known; i. e., we ought to have 
 ideas of them. But since we are ignorant in these four 
 
 E 2
 
 52 OP HUSIAN UNDEESTAKDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 points, the supposed real essences of things stand ns not in 
 stead for the distinguishing substances into species. 
 
 19. Fifthly, The only imaginable help in this case would 
 be, that, having framed pei-fect complex ideas of the pro- 
 perties of things flowing from their different real essences, 
 we should thereby distinguish them into species. But nei- 
 ther can this be done : for being ignorant of the real essence 
 itself, it is impossible to know all those properties that flow 
 from it, and are so annexed to it, that any one of them being 
 away, we may certainly conclude that that essence is not 
 there, and so the thing is not of that species. We can never 
 know what is the precise number of properties depending on 
 the real essence of gold, any one of which failing, the real 
 essence of gold — and consequently gold — would not be there, 
 unless we knew the real essence of gold itself, and by that 
 determined that species. By the word gold here, I must be 
 understood to design a particular piece of matter; v. g., the 
 last guinea that was coined. For if it should stand here in 
 its ordinary signification for that complex idea, which I or 
 any one else calls gold; i. e., for the nominal essence of gold, 
 it would be jargon : so hard is it to show the various mean- 
 ing and imperfection of words, when we have nothing else 
 but words to do it by. 
 
 20. By aU which it is clear, that our distinguishing sub- 
 stances into species by names, is not at all founded on theii' 
 real essences; nor can we pretend to range and determine 
 them exactly into species, according to internal essential 
 differences. 
 
 21. But such a Collection as our Name stands for. — But 
 since, as has been remarked, we have need of general words, 
 though we know not the real essences of things; all we can 
 do is to coUect such a number of simple ideas as by examina- 
 tion we find to be united together in things existing, and 
 thereof to make one complex idea. Which, though it be not 
 the real essence of any substance that exists, is yet the spe- 
 cific essence to wliich our name belongs, and is convertible 
 with it; by which we may at least try the truth of these 
 nominal essences. For example : there be that say that the 
 essence of body is extension : if it be so, we can never mis- 
 take in putting the essence of anything for the thing itself. 
 Let us then in discourse put extension for body, and when
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES, 53 
 
 we would say that body moves, let us say that extension 
 moves, and see how ill it will look. He that should say that 
 one extension by impulse moves another extension, would, 
 by the bai-e expression, sufficiently show the absurdity of 
 such a notion. The essence of anything in respect of us, is 
 the whole complex idea comprehended and marked by that 
 name; and in substances, besides the several distinct simple 
 ideas that make them up, the confused one of substance, or 
 of an unknown support and cause of their union, is always a 
 part : and therefore the essence of body is not bare extension, 
 but an extended solid thing : and so to say an extended 
 solid thing moves or impels another, is all one and as intel- 
 ligible as to say, body moves or impels. Likewise to say 
 that a rational animal is capable of conversation, is all one 
 as to say a man; but no one will say that rationality is 
 capable of conversation, because it makes not the whole 
 essence to which we give the name man. 
 
 22. Our abstract Ideas are to us the Pleasures of Species : 
 Instance in that of Man. — There are creatures in the world 
 that have sha2:>es like ours, but are hairy, and want language 
 and reason. There are naturals amongst us that have per- 
 fectly our shape, but want reason, and some of them lan- 
 guage too.* There are creatures, as it is said, (" sit fides 
 
 * Several French natui-alists — as M. Bory de St. Vincent and M. 
 Lesson — finding it difficult to mark the points by which man is distin- 
 guished from the inferior animals, appear somewhat desirous altogether 
 to lose sight of them. They seem to be animated by a passion to re- 
 semble the brutes, and consequently to catch with extraoi'dinary delight 
 at whatsoever seems, in their view, to establish the relationship of man 
 to the orang-outang. "Homme, enorgueilli de ton enveloppe ext^r- 
 ieure!" exclaims Lesson, with ludicrous emphasis, " des traits que dans 
 ta vanity tu as os^ comparer h. ceux de la Divinite ! etre fragile, ego'iste, 
 dont la vie s'^carte dans des acts vicieux, d^guises avec plus ou moins 
 d'art, meconnois si tu le peux, ta 2Mi'ent6 avec Ics orangs!" (Histoire 
 des Mamraifferes, t. iii. p. 2'50, etseq.) Such a writer may feel in him- 
 self some relationship to the orang, and rejoice in it, but it is hardly fair 
 in him to speak thus confidently in behalf of us all. In the same spirit 
 which, among certain classes, obtains the name of philosophy, M. de St. 
 Vincent seeks to humble human pride. ' ' Par une singularity digne de 
 remarque," he says, " pour rejeter les orangs panni les singes et ceux-ci 
 parmi les betes brutes, en conservant k I'homme toute la dignit(5 qu'U 
 s'arroge, on argue d' un ava.ntage incontestable que possederaient les 
 singes et les orangs. En effet, quatre mains ne vaudraicnt elks pas 
 mieux que deux, commes eltiiiens de j^^rfectabilite?" (L'Homme, i, 44.) 
 But, if so, M. de St. Vincent shoidd explain to us how it has happened 
 that the two hands have proved too many for the four. — Ed.
 
 54 OP HUMAN UNDERSTAXDIKG. [bOOK III. 
 
 penes anthorem," but there appears no contradiction that 
 there should be such,) that, with language and reason and a 
 shape in other things agreeing with oui's, have hairy tails; 
 others where the males have no beards, and others where the 
 females have. If it be asked whether these be all men or 
 no, — all of human species? it is plain, the question refers only 
 to the nominal essence : for those of them to whom the defi- 
 nition of the word man, or the complex idea signified by 
 that name, agrees, are men, and the other not. But if the 
 inquiry be made concerning the supposed real essence, and 
 whether the internal constitution and frame of these several 
 creatures be specifically different, it is wholly impossible for 
 us to answer, no part of that going into our specific idea; 
 only we have reason to think, that where the faculties or 
 outward frame so much differe, the internal constitution is 
 not exactly the same. But what difference in the real in- 
 ternal consitution makes a difference it is in vain to inqiiire; 
 whilst our measures of species be, as they are, only our ab- 
 stract ideas, which we know ; and not that internal constitu- 
 tion which makes no part of them. Shall the difference of 
 hair only on the skin be a mark of a different internal 
 specific constitution between a changeling and a drill, when 
 they agree in shape, and want of reason and speech? And 
 shall not the want of reason and speech be a sign to us 
 of different real constitutions and species between a change- 
 ling and a reasonable man? And so of the rest, if we pre- 
 tend that distinction of species or sorts is fixedly established 
 by the real frame and secret constitutions of things. 
 
 23. Species not distinguished by Generation. — Nor let any 
 one say, that the power of propagation in animals by the 
 mixture of male and female, and in jjlants by seeds, keeps 
 the supposed real species distinct and entire. For, granting 
 this to be true, it would help us in the distinction of the 
 species of things no further than the tribes of animals and 
 vegetables. What must we do for the rest? But in those 
 too it is not sufficient : for if history lie not, women have 
 conceived by drills; and what real species by that measure 
 such a production will be in nature, will be a new question : 
 and we have reason to think this is not impossible, since 
 mules and jumarts — the one from the mixture of an ass and 
 a mare, the other from the mixture of a bull and a mare — 
 are so frequent in the world. I once saw a creature that
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 55 
 
 was the issue of a cat and a rat, aucl had the plain marks of 
 both about it; wherein nature appeared to have followed the 
 pattern of neither sort alone, but to have jumbled them to- 
 gether. To which he that shall add the monstrous produc- 
 tions that are so frequently to be met with in natui'e, will 
 find it hard, even in the race of animals, to determine by the 
 pedigree of what species every animal's issue is; and be at a 
 loss about the real essence, which he thuiks certainly con- 
 veyed by generation, and has alone a right to the specific 
 name. But fui'ther, if the species of animals and plants are 
 to be distinguished only by propagation, must I go to the 
 Indies to see the sire and dam of the one, and the plant from 
 which the seed was gathered that produced the other, to 
 know whether this be a tiger or that tea? 
 
 2-i. ^ot by substantial Forms. — Upon the whole matter, 
 it is evident that it is their own collections of sensible quali- 
 ties that men make the essences of their several sorts of 
 substances ; and that theu- real internal stnictures are not 
 considered by the greatest part of men in the sorting them. 
 Much less were any substantial forms ever thought on by 
 any but those who have in this one part of the world 
 learned the language of the schools : and yet those ignorant 
 men who pretend not any insight into the real essences, nor 
 trouble themselves about substantial forms, but are content 
 with knowing things one from another by their sensible 
 qualities, are often better acquainted with their difierences, 
 can more nicely distinguish them from their uses, and better 
 know what they expect from each, than those learned quick- 
 sighted men who look so deep into them, and talk so confi- 
 dently of something more hidden and essential. 
 
 25. The specific Essences Tnade by the Mind. — But sup- 
 posing that the real essences of substances were discoverable 
 by those that would severely apply themselves to that in- 
 quiry, yet we could not reasonably think that the ranking of 
 things under general names was regulated by those internal 
 real constitutions, or anything else but their obvious appear- 
 ances; since languages, in all countries, have been established 
 long before sciences. So that they have not been philo- 
 sophers or logicians, or such who have troubled themselves 
 about forms and essences that have made the general names 
 that are in use amongst the several nations of men : but
 
 56 OP HUMAN tJNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 those more or less comprehensive terms have, for the most 
 part, in all languages, received their birth and signification 
 from ignorant and illiterate people, who sorted and deno- 
 minated things by those sensible qualities they found in 
 them ; thereby to signify them, when absent, to others, 
 whether they had an occasion to mention a sort or a par- 
 ticular thing. 
 
 26. There/ore very various and uncertain. — Since then it is 
 evident that we sort and name substances by their nominal 
 and not by their real essences, the next thing to be consi- 
 dered is, how and by whom these essences come to be made. 
 As to the latter, it is evident they are made by the mind, 
 and not by nature : for were they Nature's woi'kmanship, 
 they could not be so various and different in several men as 
 experience tells us they are. For if we will examine it, we 
 shall not find the nominal essence of any one species of sub- 
 stances in all men the same: no, not of that which of all 
 others we are the most intimately acquainted with. It could 
 not possibly be, that the abstract idea to which the name man 
 is given should be different in several men, if it were of 
 Nature's making; and that to one it should be "animal 
 rationale," and to another, " animal implume bipes latis 
 unguibus." He that annexes the name man to a complex 
 idea made up of sense and spontaneous motion, joined to a 
 body of such a shape, has thereby one essence of the species 
 man; and he that, upon further examination, adds ra- 
 tionality, has another essence of the sj^ecies he calls man : 
 by which means the same individual will be a true man to 
 ,the one, which is not so to the other. I think there is 
 scarce any one will allow this upright figure, so well known, 
 to be the essential difference of the species man; and yet 
 how far men determine of the sorts of animals rather by 
 their shape than descent, is very visible : since it has been 
 more than once debated, whether several human foetuses 
 should be preserved or received to baptism or no, only be- 
 cause of the difference of their outward configtiration from 
 the ordinary make of children, without knowing whether 
 they were not as capable of reason as infants cast in another 
 mould : some whereof, though of an approved shape, are 
 never capable of as much appearance of reason all their lives 
 as is to be found in an ape, or an elephant, and never
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 67 
 
 give any signs of being acted by a rational soul. Whereby 
 it is evident, that the outward figiu-e, which only was found 
 wanting, and not the faculty of reason, which nobody could 
 know would be wanting in its due season, was made essential 
 to the human species. The learned divine and lawyer must, 
 on such occasions, renounce his sacred definition of " animal 
 rationale," and substitute some other essence of the human 
 species. Monsieur Menage furnishes us with an example 
 worth the taking notice of on this occasion : " When the 
 abbot of St. Martin," says he, "was born, he had so little 
 of the figure of a man, that it bespake him rather a monster. 
 It was for some time mider deliberation, whether he should 
 be baptized or no. However, he was baptized, and declared 
 a man jtrovisionally; — till time should show what he would 
 prove. Nature had moulded him so untowardly, that he 
 was called all his life the Abbot Malotini; i. e., ill-shaped. 
 He was of Caen." (Menagiana, 278, 430.) This child, we 
 see, was very near being excluded out of the species of man, 
 barely by his shape. He escaped very narrowly as he was; 
 and it is certain, a figui-e a little more oddly turned had cast 
 him, and he had been executed,* as a thing not to be 
 allowed to pass for a man. And yet there can be no reason 
 given why, if the lineaments of his face had been a little 
 altered, a rational soul coidd not have been lodged in him; 
 why a visage somewhat longer, or a nose flatter, or a wider 
 mouth, could not have consisted, as well as the rest of his ill 
 figure, with such a soul, such parts, as made him — disfigured 
 as he was — capable to be a dignitary in the church. 
 
 27. Wherein, then, would I gladly know, consist the pre- 
 cise and unmovable boundaries of that species? It is plain, 
 if we examine, there is no such thing made by Nature, 
 and established by her amongst men. The real essence of 
 that or any other sort of substances, it is evident, we know 
 not; and therefore are so undetermined in our nominal 
 essences, which we make ourselves, that, if several men were 
 to be asked concerning some oddly-shaped foetus, as soon as 
 
 * Wliat is the rule now observed by those who decide on the execu- 
 tion of monsters? Does the hiw determine? This should be inquired 
 into: for acts are constantly perpetrated in society, of which public 
 opinion can take no hold, on account of the obscurity that surrounds 
 them. — Ed.
 
 58 OP HUMAN UNDERSTA2\DTNG. [bOOK III. 
 
 born, whether it were a man or no, it is past doubt one 
 should meet with different answers. Which could not happen, 
 if the nominal essences whereby we limit and distinguish 
 the species of substances were not made by man with some 
 libei-ty; but were exactly copied from precise boundaries set 
 by nature, whereby it distinguished all substances into cer- 
 tain species. Who would undertake to resolve what species 
 that monster was of, which is mentioned by Licetus, (Kb. i. c. 3,) 
 with a man's head and hog's body? Or those other, which 
 to the bodies of men had the heads of beasts, as dogs, 
 horses, &c. If any of these creatures had lived, and could 
 have spoke, it would have increased the difficulty. Had the 
 upper part to the middle been of human shape, and all below 
 swine, had it been murder to destroy it? Or must the bishop 
 have been consulted, whether it were man enough to be ad 
 mitted to the font or no? as I have been told it happened in 
 France some years since, in somewhat a like case.* So un- 
 certain are the boundaries of species of animals to us, who 
 have no other measures than the complex ideas of our own 
 collecting : and so far are we from certainly knowing what a 
 man is; though perhaps it will be judged great ignorance to 
 make any doubt about it. And yet, I think I may say that 
 the certain boundaries of that species are so far from being 
 determined, and the precise number of simple ideas which 
 make the nominal essence, so far from being settled and 
 perfectly known, that very material doubts may still arise 
 about it. And I imagine none of the definitions of the 
 word man which we yet have, nor descriptions of that sort 
 of animal, are so perfect and exact as to satisfy a considerate 
 inquisitive person; much less to obtain a general consent, 
 and to be that which men would everywhere stick by in the 
 decision of cases, and determining of life and death, baptism 
 or no baptism, in productions that might happen. 
 
 28. But not so arbitrary as mixed Modes. — But though 
 these nominal essences of substances are made by the mind, 
 they are not yet made so arbitrarily as those of mixed modes. 
 
 * However this question may be decided, the opinions of learned 
 writers on the formation of monsters are exceedingly curious ; but 
 Bartholin, I think, stands alone in attributing the whole to the agency 
 of comets, in his "Consilium Medicum, cum Monstrorem in Danik 
 Natorum Historia." — Ed.
 
 CHAP. VI.] KAMES OP SUBST.VKCES. 59' 
 
 To the making of any nominal essence, it is necessary, Fii-st, 
 that the ideas whereof it consists have such a union as to 
 make l)ut one idea, how comjjounded soever. Secondly, that 
 the particular idea so united be exactly the same, neither 
 more nor less. For if two abstract complex ideas diflfer 
 either in number or sorts of their comiDonent parts, they 
 make two diffei-ent, and not one and the same essence. In 
 the first of these, the mind, in making its complex ideas of 
 substances, only follows nature; and puts none together 
 which ai'e not supposed to have a union in nature. Nobody 
 loins the voice of a sheep with the shape of a horse, nor the 
 colour of lead with the weight and fixedness of gold, to be 
 the complex ideas of any real substances; unless he has a 
 mind to fill his head with chimeras, and his discourse with 
 unintelligible words. Men observing certain qualities always 
 joined and existing together, therein copied nature; and of 
 ideas so united made their complex ones of substances. For, 
 though men may make what complex ideas they please, and 
 give what names to them they will; yet, if they will be un- 
 derstood when they speak of things really existing, they 
 must in some degree conform their ideas to the things they 
 would speak of; or else men's language will be like that of 
 Babel; and every man's words, being intelligible only to 
 himself, would no longer serve to conversation and the ordi- 
 nary afiairs of life, if the ideas they stand for be not some 
 way answering the common appearances and agreement of 
 substances as they really exist. 
 
 29. Though very imperfect. — Secondly, Though the mind 
 of man, in making its complex ideas of substances, never 
 puts any together that do not really or are not supposed to 
 co-exist ; and so it truly borrows that union from nature : 
 yet the number it combines depends upon the various care, 
 indiistry, or fancy of him that makes it. Men generally 
 content themselves with some few sensible obvious qualities ; 
 and often, if not always, leave out others as material and as 
 firmly united as those that they take. Of sensible substances 
 there are two sorts : one of organized bodies, which are pro- 
 pagated by seed ; and in these the shape is that which to us 
 is the leading quality and most characteristical part that 
 determines the species. And therefore, in vegetables and 
 animals, an extended solid substance of such a certain, figure
 
 60 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 usually serves the turn. For however some men seem to 
 prize their definition of " animal rationale," yet should there 
 a creature be found that had language and reason, but par- 
 took not of the usual shape of a man, I believe it would 
 hardly pass for a man, how much soever it were " animal 
 rationale." And if Balaam's ass had all his life discoursed 
 as rationally as he did once with his master, I doubt yet 
 whether any one would have thought him worthy the name 
 man, or allowed him to be of the same species with himself. 
 As in vegetables and animals it is the shape, so in most 
 other bodies not propagated by seed, it is the colour we most 
 fix on, and are most led by. Thus, where we find the colour 
 of gold, we are apt to imagine all the other qualities com- 
 prehended in our complex idea to be there also: and we 
 commonly take these two obvious qualities, viz., shape and 
 colour, for so presumptive ideas of several species, that, in a 
 good picture, we readily say this is a lion, and that a rose; 
 this is a gold, and that a silver goblet, only by the difierent 
 figures and colours rej^resented to the eye by the pencil. 
 
 30. Which yet serve for common Converse. — But though 
 this serves well enough for gross and confused conceptions, 
 and inaccurate ways of talking and thinking; yet men are 
 far enough from having agreed on the precise number of 
 simple ideas or qualities belonging to any sort of things, 
 signified by its name. Nor is it a wonder; since it requires 
 much time, pains, and skill, strict inquiiy, and long exami- 
 nation to find out what and how many those simple ideas 
 are, which are constantly and inseparably united in nature, 
 and are always to be found together in the same subject. 
 Most men wanting either time, inclination, or industry 
 enough for this, even to some tolerable degree, content them- 
 selves with some few obvious and outward ajDpearances of 
 things, thereby readily to distinguish and sort them for the 
 common afiairs of life : and so, without further examination 
 give them names, or take up the names already in use. 
 Which, though in common conversation they pass well enough 
 for the signs of some few obvious qualities co-existing, are 
 yet far enough from comprehendmg, in a settled signification, 
 a precise number of simple ideas, much less all those which 
 are united in nature. He that shall consider, after so much 
 stir about genus and species, and such a deal of talk of spe-
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 61 
 
 cific differences, how few words we have yet settled defini- 
 tions of, may with reason imagine that those forms which 
 there hath been so much noise made about are only chimeras, 
 which give us no light into the specific natures of things. 
 And he that shall consider how far the names of substances 
 are from having significations wherein all who use them do 
 agree, will have reason to conclude that, though the nominal 
 essences of substances are all supposed to be copied from 
 nature, yet they are all or most of them veiy imperfect. 
 Since the composition of those complex ideas are, in several 
 men, very different : and therefore that these boundaries of 
 species are as men, and not as Nature, makes them, if at least 
 there are in nature any such prefixed bounds. It is true 
 that many particular substances are so made by Nature, that 
 they have agreement and likeness one with another, and so 
 affoi'd a foundation of being ranked into sorts. But the sort- 
 ing of things by us, or the making of determinate species, being 
 in order to naming and comprehending them under general 
 terms, I cannot see how it can be properly said, that Nature 
 sets the bomidaries of the species of things : or, if it be so, 
 our boimdaries of species are not exactly conformable to 
 those in nature. For we having need of general names lor 
 present use, stay not for a perfect discovery of all those qua- 
 lities which would best show us their most material differences 
 and agreements; but we ourselves divide them by certain 
 obvious appearances into species, that we may the easier 
 under general names communicate our thoughts about them. 
 For having no other knowledge of any substance but of the 
 simple ideas that are united in it; and observing several par- 
 ticular things to agree with others in several of those simple 
 ideas, we make that collection our specific idea, and give it a 
 general name; that in recording our thoughts, and in our 
 discourse with others, we may in one short word designate 
 all the individuals that agree in that complex idea, without 
 enumerating the simple ideas that make it up; and so not 
 waste our time and breath in tedious descriptions ; which we 
 see they are fain to do who would discourse of any new sort 
 of things they have not yet a name for. 
 
 31. Essences of Species under tlce same Name very dif- 
 ferent. — But however these species of substances pass well 
 enough in ordinary conversation, it is plain that this com-
 
 62 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAlfDINa. [bOOK III. 
 
 plex idea, wherein they observe several individuals to 
 agree, is by different men made very differently ; by some 
 more, and others less accui-ately. In some, this complex 
 idea contains a gi'eater, and in others a smaller number of 
 qualities, and so is apjiareutly such as the mind makes it. 
 The yellow shining colour makes gold to children; others 
 add weight, malleableness, and fusibility; and others yet 
 other qualities, which they iind joined with that yellow 
 colour-, as constantly as its weight and fusibility : for in all 
 these and the like qualities one has as good a right to be 
 put into the complex idea of that substance wherein they 
 are all joined, as another. And therefore different men 
 leaving out or putting in several simple ideas which others 
 do not, according to their various examination, skill, or 
 observation of that subject, have different essences of gold, 
 which must, therefore, be of their own and not of nature's 
 making. 
 
 32. Tlie more general our Ideas a/re, the more incomplete 
 and partial they are. — If the number of simple ideas that 
 make the nominal essence of the lowest species, or first sort- 
 ing of individuals, depends on the mind of man variously 
 collecting them, it is much more evident that they do so in 
 the more comprehensive classes, which, by the masters of 
 logic, are called genera. These are complex ideas designedly 
 imperfect; and it is visible at first sight, that several of 
 those qualities that are to be found in the things themselves, 
 are pm-posely left out of generical ideas. For as the mind, 
 to make general ideas comprehending several particulars, 
 leaves out those of time and place, and such other that make 
 them incommunicable to more than one individual ; so to make 
 other yet more general ideas that may comprehend different 
 sorts, it leaves out those qualities that distinguish them, and 
 pi^ts into its new collection only such ideas as are common 
 to several sorts. The same convenience that made men ex- 
 press several parcels of yellow matter coming from Guinea 
 and Peru under one name, sets them also upon making of 
 one name that may comprehend both gold and silver, and 
 some other bodies of different sorts. Tliis is done by leaving 
 out those qualities, which are peculiar to each sort, and re- 
 taining a complex idea made up of those that are common to 
 them all; to which the name metal being annexed, there is a
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 63 
 
 genus constituted, the essence whereof being that abstract 
 idea, containing only malleableuess and fusibility, with cer- 
 tain degrees of weight and fixedness, wherein some l)odies of 
 several kinds agree, leaves out the colour and other qualities 
 peculiar to gold and sUver, and the other sorts comprehended 
 under the name metal. Whereby it is plain, that men follow 
 not exactly the patterns set them by nature when they make 
 their general ideas of substances, since there is no body to 
 be found which has barely malleableuess and fusibility in it, 
 without other qualities as inseparable as those. But men, in 
 making their general ideas, seeking more the convenience of 
 language and quick dispatch by short and comprehensive 
 signs, than the true and precise nature of things as they 
 exist, have, in the framing their abstract ideas, chiefly pwr- 
 sued that end, which was to be furnished with store of 
 general and variously comprehensive names. So that in this 
 whole business of genera and species, the genus, or more 
 comprehensive, is but a partial conception of what is in the 
 species, and the species but a partial idea of what is to be 
 found in each individual. If, therefore, any one will think 
 that a man, and a horse, and an animal, and a plant, &c., 
 are distiuguished by real essences made by nature, he must 
 think nature to be very liberal of these real essences, making 
 one for body, another for an animal, and another for a horse, 
 and aU these essences liberally bestowed upon Bucephalus. 
 But if we would rightly consider what is done in all these 
 genera and species, or sorts, we should find that there is no 
 new thing made, but only more or less comprehensive signs, 
 whereby we may be enabled to express in a few syllables 
 great numbers of particular things, as they agree in more or 
 less general conceptions, which we have framed to that pui*- 
 pose. In all which we may observe, that the more general 
 term is always the name of a less complex idea, and that 
 each genus is but a partial conception of the species com- 
 prehended under it, So that if these abstract genei-al ideas 
 be thought to be complete, it can only be in respect of a cer- 
 tain established relation between them and certain names 
 which are made use of to signify them, and not in respect of 
 anything existing, as made by nature, 
 
 33. I'his all accommodated to the end of Speech. — This is 
 adjusted to the true end of speech, which is to be the easiest
 
 64 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 and shortest way of communicating oin* notions. Foi', thus, 
 he that would discourse of things as they agreed in the 
 complex ideas of extension and solidity, needed but use the 
 word body to denote all such. He that to these would join 
 others, signified by the words life, sense, and spontaneous 
 motion, needed but use the word animal to signify all which 
 partook of those ideas; and he that had made a complex 
 idea of a body, with life, sense, and motion, with the faculty 
 of reasoning, and a certain shape joined to it, needed but use 
 the short monosyllable, man, to express all particidars that 
 coiTCspond to that complex idea. This is the proper busi- 
 ness of genus and species ; and this men do without any 
 consideration of real essences, or substantial forms, which 
 come not within the reach of our knowledge when we think 
 of those things, nor within the signification of our words 
 when we discourse with others. 
 
 34. Instance in Cassoioaries. — ^Were I to talk with any 
 one of a sort of birds I lately saw in St. James's Park, 
 about three or four feet high, with a covering of something 
 between feathere and hair, of a dark brown colour, without 
 wings, but in the place thereof two or three little branches 
 coming down like sprigs of Spanish broom, long great legs, 
 with feet only of three claws, and without a tail, I must 
 make this description of it, and so may make others under- 
 stand nie; but when I am told that the name of it is 
 cassuaris, I may then use that word to stand in discourse 
 for all my complex idea mentioned in that description; 
 though by that word, which is now become a specific name, 
 I know no more of the real essence or constitution of that 
 sort of animals than I did before ; and knew probably as 
 much of the nature of that species of birds before I learned 
 the name, as many Englishmen do of swans or herons, 
 which are specific names, very well known, of sorts of birds 
 common in England. 
 
 35. Men determine the Sorts. — From what has been said, 
 it is evident that men make sorts of things; for it being 
 different essences alone that make diSerent species, it is plain 
 that they who make those abstract ideas which are the 
 nommal essences, do thereby make the species, or sort. Should 
 there be a body found, having all the other qualities of 
 gold, except malleableness, it would no doubt be made a
 
 CHAP VI. KAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 65 
 
 question whether it were gold oi' not, i. c, whether it were 
 of that species. This could be determined only by that 
 abstract idea to which eveiy one annexed the name gold ; so 
 that it would be true gold to him, and belong to that 
 species, who included not malleableness in his nominal 
 essence, signified by the sound gold; and on the other side 
 it would not be true gold, or of that species to him who in- 
 cluded malleableness in his specific idea. And who, I pray, 
 is it that make these diverse species even under one and 
 the same name, but men that make two different abstract 
 ideas consisting not exactly of the same collection of quali- 
 ties'? Nor is it a mere supposition to imagine that a body 
 may exist, wherein the other obvious qualities of gold may 
 be without malleableness ; since it is certain that gold itself 
 will be sometimes so eager, (as artists call it,) that it will as 
 little endure the hammer as glass itself What we have said 
 of the putting in or leaving malleableness out of the com- 
 plex idea the name gold is by any one annexed to, may be 
 said of its peculiar weight, fixedness, and several other the 
 like qualities; for whatsoever is left out or put in,, it is 
 still the complex idea to which that name is annexed that 
 makes the species; and as any j^articular parcel of matter 
 answers that idea, so the name of the sort belongs ti'uly to 
 it, and it is of that species. And thus anything is true 
 gold, perfect metal. All which determination of the species, 
 it is plain, depends on the understanding of man, making 
 this or that complex idea. 
 
 36. Nature makes the Similitude. — This, then, in short, is 
 the case. Nature makes many particular things which do 
 agree one with another in many sensible qualities, and 
 probably too in their internal frame and constitution : but it 
 is not this real essence that distinguishes them into species; 
 it is men, who, taking occasion from the qualities they find 
 united in them, and wherein they observe often several in- 
 dividuals to agree, range them into sorts, in order to their 
 naming, for the convenience of comprehensive signs; under 
 which individuals, according to their conformity to this or 
 that abstract idea, come to be ranked as under ensigns ; so 
 that this is of the blue, that the red regiment; this is a man, 
 that a drill; and in this, I think, consists the whole business 
 of genus and species. 
 
 VOL. II. F
 
 66 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 37. I do not deny but nature, in the constant production 
 of particular beings, makes them not always new and various, 
 but very much alike and of kin one to another; but I think 
 it nevertheless true, that the boundaries of the species, 
 whereby men sort them, are made by men ; since the essences 
 of the species, distinguished by different names, are, as has 
 been proved, of man's making, and seldom adequate to the 
 internal nature of the things they are taken from. So that 
 we may traly say, such a manner of sorting of things is the 
 workmanship of men. 
 
 38. Each abstract Idea is an Essence. — One thing I doubt 
 not but will seem very strange in this doctrine, which is, 
 that from Avhat has been said it will follow, that each abstract 
 idea with a name to it, makes a distinct species. But who 
 can help it, if tnith wiU have it so? For so it must remain 
 till somebody can show us the species of things limited and 
 distingaiished by something else; and let us see that general 
 terms signify not our abstract ideas, but something different 
 from them. I would fain know why a shock and a hound 
 are not as distinct species as a spaniel and an elephant. We 
 have no other idea of the different essence of an elephant and 
 a spaniel, than we have of the different essence of a shock 
 and a hound; all the essential difference whereby we know 
 and distinguish them one from another, consisting only in the 
 different collection of simple ideas, to which we have given 
 those different names, 
 
 39. Genera and Species are in order to naming. — How 
 much the making of species and genera* is in order to 
 
 , general names, and how much general names are necessary, if 
 not to the being, yet at least to the completing of a species, 
 and making it pass for such, will appear, besides what has 
 been said above concerning ice and water, in a very familiar 
 example. A silent and a striking watch are but one species 
 to those who have but one name for them ; but he that has 
 the name watch for one, and clock for the other, and distinct 
 complex ideas to which those names belong, to him they are 
 different species. It will be said perhaps, that the inward 
 
 * On the signification of these tenns which occur so frequently in 
 Locke, and in all writers on natural history, see the explanation of Dr. 
 Prichard, in his "Researches into the Physical History of Mankind." 
 VoL I. p. 105 et seq. — Ed.
 
 CHAP. VI.] XAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 67 
 
 contrivance and constitution is different between these two, 
 wliich the watchmaker has a clear idea of. And yet it is 
 plain they are but one species to him, when he has but one 
 name for them; for what is sufficient in the inward con- 
 trivance to make a new species'? There are some watches 
 that are made with four wheels, others with five; is this a 
 specific difference to the workman] Some have strings and 
 physies, and others none ; some have the balance loose, and 
 othei-s regulated by a spiral spring, and others by hogs' 
 bristles : are any or all of these enough to make a specific 
 difference to the workman, that knows each of these and 
 several other different contrivances in the internal consti- 
 tutions of watches? It is certain each of these hath a real 
 difference from the rest; but whether it be an essential, a 
 specific difference or not, I'elates only to the complex idea to 
 which the name watch is given : as long as they all agree in 
 the idea which that name stands for, and that name does 
 not as a generical name compi*ehend different species imder 
 it, they are not essentially nor specifically different. But if 
 any one will make minuter divisions fi'om differences that he 
 knows in the internal frame of watches, and to such precise 
 complex ideas give names that shall prevail ; they will then 
 be new species to them who have those ideas with names to 
 them, and can by those differences distinguish watches into 
 these several sorts, and then watch will be a generical name. 
 But yet they would be no distinct species to men ignorant of 
 clock-work and the inward contrivances of watches, who had 
 no other idea but the outward shape and bulk, with the 
 marking of the hours by the hand. For to them all those 
 other names would be but synonymous terms for the same 
 idea, and signify no more, nor no other thing but a watch. 
 Just thus I think it is in natural things. Nobody will doubt 
 that the wheels or sj^rings (if I may so say) within, are dif- 
 ferent in a rational man and a changeling; no more than 
 that there is a difference in the frame between a drill and a 
 changeling. But whether one, or both the differences be 
 essential or specitical, is only to be known to us by their 
 agreement or disagreement with the complex idea that the 
 name man stands for: for by that alone can it be deter- 
 mined whether one or both, or neither of those be a man. 
 40. Species of Artijicial Things less confused than Natural. 
 
 P 2
 
 G8 OF HUMAN UXDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 — From what has been before said, we may see the reason 
 why, in the species of artificial things, there is generally less 
 confusion and uncertainty than in natural. Because an arti- 
 £cial thing being a production of man which the artificer 
 designed, and therefore well knows the idea of, the name of 
 it is supposed to stand for no other idea, nor to import any 
 other essence than what is certainly to be known, and easy 
 enough to be apprehended. For the idea or essence of the 
 several sorts of artificial things consisting, for the most part, in 
 nothing but the determinate figure of sensible parts ; and some- 
 times motion depending thereon, which the artificer fashions 
 in matter, such as he finds for his turn; it is not beyond the 
 reach of our faculties to attain a certain idea thereof, and to 
 settle the signification of the names whereby the species of 
 artificial things are distinguished with less doubt, obscurity, 
 and equivocation, than we can in things natural, whose dif- 
 ferences and operations depend upon contrivances beyond the 
 reach of our discoveries. 
 
 41. Artificial Things of district Species. — I must be ex- 
 cused here if I think artificial things are of distinct sj^ecies 
 as well as natural: since I find they are as j^lainly and 
 orderly ranked into sorts, ])y different abstract ideas, with 
 general names annexed to them, as distinct one from another 
 as those of natural substances. For why should we not think 
 a watch and pistol as distinct species one from another, as a 
 horse and a dog ; they being expressed in our minds by distinct 
 ideas, and to others by distinct appellations? 
 
 42. Substances alone have jyroper Names. — This is further 
 to be observed concerning substances, that they alone of all 
 our sevei'al soi-ts of ideas have particular or proper names, 
 whereby one only particular thing is signified. Because in 
 simple ideas, modes, and relations, it seldom happens that men 
 have occasion to mention often this or that particular when 
 it is absent. Besides, the greatest part of mixed modes, being 
 actions which perish in their birth, are not capable, of a lasting 
 duration as substances, which are the actors; and wherein 
 the simple ideas that make up the complex ideas designed by 
 the name have a lasting union. 
 
 43. Difficulty to treat of Words. — I must beg pardon of my 
 reader for having dwelt so long upon this subject, and perhaps 
 with some obscui-ity. But I desire it may be considered how
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 69 
 
 difficult it is to lead another by words into the thoughts of 
 things, stripped of those specifical differences we give them : 
 which things, if I name not, I say nothing ; and if I do name 
 them, I thereby rank them into some sort or other, and sug- 
 gest to the mind the usual abstract idea of that species, and 
 so cross my purj^ose. For to talk of a man, and to lay by, 
 at the same time, the ordinary signification of the name man, 
 which is our complex idea usually annexed to it, and bid the 
 reader consider man as he is in himself, and as he is really 
 distinguished from others in his internal constitution, or I'eal 
 essence, that is, by something he knows not what, looks like 
 trifling; and, yet, thus one must do who would speak of the 
 supposed real essences and species of things, as thought to be 
 made by nature, if it be but only to make it understood that 
 there is no such thing signified by the general names which 
 substances are called by. But because it is difficult by 
 known familiar names to do this, give me leave to endeavour 
 by an example to make the different consideration the mind 
 has of specific names and ideas a little more clear; and to 
 show how the complex ideas of modes are referred sometimes 
 to archetypes in the minds of other intelligent beings; or, 
 which is the same, to the signification annexed by others to 
 their received names; and sometimes to no archety|)es at all. 
 Give me leave also to show how the mind always refers its 
 ideas of substances, either to the substances themselves or to 
 the signification of their names as to the archetyjies; and 
 also to make plain the nature of species or sorting of things, 
 as apprehended and made use of by us; and of the essences 
 belonging to those species, which is perhaps of more moment 
 to discover the extent and certainty of our knowledge than 
 we at first imagine. 
 
 44. Instances of mixed Modes in hinneah and niouph. — Let 
 us suppose Adam in the state of a grown man, with a good 
 understanding, but in a strange country, with all things new 
 and unknown about him, and no other faculties to attain the 
 knowledge of them but what one of this age has now. He 
 observes Lamech more melancholy than usual, and imagines 
 it to be from a sus^^icion he has of his wife Adah, (whom he 
 most ardently loved,) that she had too much kindness for 
 another man. Adam discourses these his thoughts to Eve, 
 and desires her to take care that Adah commit not folly ;
 
 70 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 and in these discourses with Eve he makes use of these two 
 new words kinneah and niouph. In time, Adam's mistake 
 appears, for he finds Lamech's trouble proceeded from having 
 killed a man : but yet the two names kinneah and niouph, 
 (the one standing for suspicion in a husband of his wife's 
 disloyalty to him, and the other for the act of committing 
 disloyalty,) lost not then- distinct significations. It is plain, 
 then, that here were two distinct complex ideas of mixed 
 modes with names to them, two distinct species of actions 
 essentiaily different ; I ask wherein consisted the essences of 
 these two distinct species of actions 1 And it is plain it con- 
 sisted in a precise combination of simple ideas, different in 
 one from the other. I ask, whether the complex idea in 
 Adam's mind, which he called kinneah, were adequate or not ? 
 And it is plain it was ; for it being a combination of simple 
 ideas, which he, without any regard to any archetype, without 
 respect to anything as a pattern, voluntarily put together, 
 abstracted, and gave the name kinneah to, to express in short 
 to others, by that one sound, all the simple ideas contained 
 and united in that comj^lex one ; it must necessarily follow 
 that it was an adequate idea. His own choice having made 
 that combination, it had all in it he intended it should, and 
 so could not but be perfect, could not but be adequate, it 
 being referred to no other archetype which it was supposed 
 to represent. 
 
 45. These words, kinneah and niouph, by degrees grew into 
 common use, and then the case was somewhat altered. Adam's 
 children had the same faculties, and thereby the same power 
 that he had, to make what complex ideas of mixed modes 
 they pleased in their own minds ; to abstract them, and 
 make what sounds they pleased the signs of them ; but the use 
 of names being to make our ideas within us known to others, 
 that cannot bo done, but when the same sign stands for the 
 same idea in two who would communicate their thoughts and 
 discourse together. Those, therefore, of Adam's children, that 
 found these two words, kinneah and niouph, in familiar use, 
 could not take them for insignificant sounds, but must needs 
 conclude they stood for something ; for certain ideas, abstract 
 ideas ; they being general names, which abstract ideas were 
 the essences of the species distinguished by those names. If, 
 therefore, they would use these words as names of species
 
 CHAP. VI.] KAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 71 
 
 already established and agreed on, they were ohliged to con- 
 form the ideas in their minds, signified by these names, to the 
 ideas that they stood for in other men's minds, as to their 
 patterns aiad archetypes ; and then indeed their ideas of 
 these complex modes were liable to be inadequate, as being 
 very apt (especially those that consisted of combinations of 
 many simple ideas) not to be exactly conformable to the ideas 
 in other men's minds, usmg the same names ; though for 
 this there be usually a remedy at hand, which is to ask the 
 meaning of any word we understand not of him that ixses it ; 
 it being as impossible to know certainly what the words 
 jealousy and adultery (which I think answer nsjp and P)1X3) 
 stand for in another man's mind, with whom I would dis- 
 coui'se about them ; as it was impossible, in the beginning of 
 language, to know what kinneah and niouph stood for in 
 another man's mind, without explication, they being voluntary 
 signs in every one. 
 
 46. Instance of Svhstances in Zaiiah. — Let us now also 
 consider, after the same manner, the names of substances in 
 their first application. One of Adam's children, roving in 
 the mountains, lights on a glittering substance which pleases 
 his eye ; home he carries it to Adam, who, upon considera- 
 tion of it, finds it to be hard, to have a bright yellow colour, 
 and an exceeding great weight. These perhaps, at first, are 
 all the qualities he takes notice of in it ; and abstracting 
 this complex idea, consisting of a substance having that pecu- 
 liar bright yellowness, and a weight very great in proportion 
 to its bulk, he gives it the name zahab, to denominate and 
 mark all substances that have these sensible qualities in 
 them. It is evident now, that, in this case, Adam acts quite 
 difi^erently from what he did before in forming those ideas of 
 mixed modes, to which he gave the names kinneah and 
 niouph : for there he puts ideas together only by his own 
 iniagination, not taken from the existence of anything : and 
 to them he gave names to denominate all things that should 
 happen to agree to those his abstract ideas, without consi- 
 dering whether any such thing did exist or not ; the standard 
 there was of his own making. But in the forming his idea of 
 this new substance, he takes the quite contrary course ; here 
 he has a standard made hj nature ; and therefore, being to 
 represent that to himself, by the idea he has of it, even when
 
 72 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 it is absent, he puts in no simple idea into his complex one, 
 but what he has the perception of from the thing itself. He 
 takes care that his idea be conformable to this archetype, and 
 intends the name should stand for an idea so conformable. 
 
 47. This piece of matter, thus denominated zahab by 
 Adam, being quite different from any he had seen before, 
 nobody, I think, will deny to be a distinct species, and to 
 have its pecviliar essence, and that the name zahab is the 
 mark of the species, and a name belonging to all things 
 partaking in that essence. But here it is plain the essence 
 Adam made the name zahab stand for was nothing but a 
 body hard, shining, yellow, and very heavy. But the inqui- 
 sitive mind of man, not content with the knowledge of these, 
 as I may say, superficial qualities, puts Adam on further 
 examination of this matter. He therefore knocks and beats 
 it with flints, to see what was discoverable in the inside : he 
 finds it yield to blows, but not easily separate into pieces ; he 
 finds it will bend without breaking. Is not now ductility to 
 be added to his former idea, and made part of the essence of 
 the species that name zahab stands for 1 Further trials dis- 
 cover fusibility and fixedness. Are not they also, by the same 
 reason that any of the others were, to be put iuto the com- 
 plex idea signified by the name zahab 1 If not, what reason 
 will there be shown more for the one than the other 1 If 
 these must, then all the other properties, which any further 
 trials shall discover in this matter, ought by the same reason 
 to make a part of the ingredients of the complex idea which 
 the name zahab stands for, and so be the essence of the 
 
 .species marked by that name : which properties, because 
 they are endless, it is plain that the idea made after this 
 fashion by this archetype will be always inadequate. 
 
 48. Their Ideas itnperfect, and therefore various. — But this 
 is not aU ; it would also follow that the names of substances 
 would not only have (as in truth they have) but would also 
 be supposed to have difiierent significations, as used by difier- 
 ent men, which would very much cumber the use of language. 
 For if every distinct quality that were discovered in any 
 matter by any one were supposed to make a necessary part 
 of the complex idea signified by the common name given to 
 it, it must follow, that men must suppose the same word to 
 signify difierent things in difierent men ; since they cannot
 
 CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 73 
 
 doubt but diflferent men may have discovered several qualities 
 in substances of the same denomination, which others knc)\v 
 nothing of. 
 
 49. Therefore, to fix tlieir Species, a real Essence is supposed. 
 — To avoid this, therefore, they have supposed a real essence 
 belonging to eveiy species, from which these properties all 
 flow, and would have then' name of the species stand for that. 
 But they not having any idea of that real essence in sub- 
 stances, and their words signifying nothing but the ideas they 
 have, that which is done by this attempt, is only to put the 
 name or sound in the place and stead of the thing having 
 that real essence, without knowing what the real essence is ; 
 and this is that which men do when they speak of species of 
 things, as supposing them made by nature, and distinguished 
 by real essences. 
 
 50. Which Supposition is of no Use. — For let us consider, 
 when we affirm that all gold is fixed, either it means that 
 fixedness is a part of the definition — part of the nominal 
 essence the word gold stands for ; and so this affirmation, 
 aU gold is fixed, contains nothing but the signification of the 
 term gold. Or else it means, that fixedness, not being a 
 part of the definition of the gold, is a property of that sub- 
 stance itself: in which case it is plain that the word gold 
 stands in the place of a substance, having the real essence 
 of a species of things made by nature. In which way of 
 substitution it has so confused and uncertain a signification, 
 that, though this proposition — gold is fixed, be in that sense 
 an affirmation of something real, yet it is a truth will always 
 fail us in its particular application, and so is of no real use 
 or certainty. For let it be ever so true, that all gold — i. e., 
 all that has the real essence of gold — is fixed, what serves 
 tliis for, whilst we know not in this sense what is or is not 
 gold? For if we know not the real essence of gold, it is 
 impossible we should know what parcel of matter has that 
 essence, and so whether it be true gold or no. 
 
 51. Conclusion. — To conclude: what liberty Adam had 
 at first to make any complex ideas of mixed modes, by no 
 other patterns but his own thoughts, the same have all men 
 ever since had. And the same necessity of conforming his 
 ideas of substances to things without him, as to archetypes 
 made by nature, that Adam was under, if he would not wil-
 
 74 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IJI. 
 
 fully impose upon himself; the same are aU men ever since 
 under too. The same liberty also that Adam had of affixing 
 any new name to any idea, the same has any one still ; (es- 
 pecially the beginners of languages, if we can imagine any 
 such;) but only with this diffei-ence, that, in places where 
 men in society have already established a language amongst 
 them, the significations of words are veiy warily and spar- 
 ingly to be altered: becaiise men being furnished already 
 with names for their ideas, and common use having appro- 
 priated known names to certain ideas, an affected misappli- 
 cation of them cannot but be very ridiculous. He that hath 
 new notions will perhaps venture sometimes on the coining 
 of new terms to express them ; but men think it a boldness, 
 and it is uncertain whether common use will ever make 
 them pass for current. But in communication with others, 
 it is necessary that we conform the ideas we make the vulgar 
 words of any language stand for to their known proper sig- 
 nifications, (which I have explained at large already,) or else 
 to make known that new signification we apply them to. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OF PARTICLES. 
 
 1. Particles connect Parts or whole Sentences together. — 
 Besides words, which are names of ideas in the mind, there 
 are a great many others that are made use of to signify the 
 connexion that the mind gives to ideas or propositions one 
 with another. The mind, in communicating its thoughts 
 to others, does not only need signs of the ideas it has then 
 before it, but others also, to show or intimate some particu- 
 lar action of its own, at that time, relating to those ideas. 
 This it does several ways; as is, and is not, are the general 
 marks, of the mind, aflirming or denying. But besides affir- 
 mation or negation, without which there is in words no truth 
 or falsehood, the mind does, in declaring its sentiments to 
 others, connect not only the parts of propositions, but whole 
 sentences one to another, with their several relations and 
 dependencies, to make a coherent discourse. 
 
 2. In tJtem consists the Art of Well-speaking. — The words 
 whereby it signifies what connexion it gives to the several
 
 CHAP. VII.] OF PARTICLES. 75 
 
 affirmations and negations that it unites in one continued 
 reasoning or narration, are generally called particles; and it 
 is in the right use of these that raore particularly consist 
 the clearness and beauty of a good style. To think well, 
 it is not enough that a man has ideas clear and distinct in 
 his thoughts, nor that he observes the agreement or disagi-ee- 
 ment of some of them ; but he must think in train, and 
 observe the dependence of his thoughts and reasonings upon 
 one another. And to express well such methodical and 
 rational thoughts, he must have words to show what con- 
 nexion, restriction, distinction, opposition, emphasis, &c., he 
 gives to each respective jiart of his discourse. To mistake 
 in any of these, is to puzzle instead of informing his hearer; 
 and therefore it is that those words which are not tinily by 
 themselves the names of any ideas, are of such constant and 
 indispensable use in language, and do much contribute to 
 men's well expressing themselves. 
 
 3. They show what Relation the Mind gives to its ovcm 
 Thoughts. — This part of grammar has been perhaps as much 
 neglected as some others over-dUigently cultivated. It is 
 easy for men to write, one after another, of cases and gen- 
 ders, moods and tenses, gerunds and supines : in these and 
 the like there has been great diligence used : and particles 
 themselves, in some languages, have been, with gi'eat show 
 of exactness, ranked into their several orders. But though 
 prejDOsitions and conjunctions, &c., are names well known 
 in grammar, and the particles contained under them care- 
 fully ranked into their distinct subdivisions; yet he who 
 would show the right use of particles, and what significancy 
 and force they have, must take a little more pains, enter 
 into his own thoughts, and observe nicely the several pos- 
 tures of his mind in discoursing. 
 
 4. Neither is it enough for the explaining of these words, 
 to render them, as is usual in dictionaries, by words of another 
 tongue which come nearest to their signification : for what 
 is meant by them is commonly as hard to be understood in 
 one as another languge. They are all marks of some action 
 or intimation of the mind ; and therefore to vmderstand them 
 rightly, the several views, postures, stands, turns, limitations, 
 and exceptions, and several other thoughts of the mind, for 
 which we have either none or very deficient names, are dUi-
 
 76 OF HUMAN UNDERSTA>-DTNG. [bOOK III. 
 
 gently to be studied. Of these there is a gi'eat variety, 
 much exceeding the number of particles that most languages 
 have to express them by ; and therefore it is not to be won- 
 dered that most of these particles have divers and sometimes 
 almost opposite significations. In the Hebrew tongue there 
 is a particle consisting of but one single letter, of which there 
 are reckoned up, as I remember, seventy, I am sure above 
 fifty, several significations. 
 
 5. Instance in But. — But is a particle, none more familiar 
 in our language; and he that says it is a discretive conjunc- 
 tion, and that it answers to sed Latin, or raais in French, 
 thinks he has sufficiently explained it. But it seems to me 
 to intimate several relations the mind gives to the several 
 propositions or parts of them, which it joins by this mono- 
 syllable. 
 
 First, "But to say no more:" here it intimates a stop 
 of the mind in the course it was going, before it came quite 
 to the end of it. 
 
 Secondly, " I saw but two plants:" here it shows that the 
 mind limits the sense to what is expressed, with a negation 
 of all other. 
 
 Thirdly, " You pray ; but it is not that God would bring 
 you to the ti'ue religion." 
 
 Fourthly, " But that he would confirm you in your own." 
 The first of these buts intimates a supposition in the mind 
 of something otherwise than it should be; the latter shows 
 that the mind makes a direct opposition between that and 
 what goes before it. 
 
 Fifthly, " All animals have sense, but a dog is an animal:" 
 here it signifies little more but that the latter proposition is 
 joined to the former, as the minor of a syllogism. 
 
 6. This Matter hut lightly touched liere — To these, I doubt 
 not, might be added a great many other significations of this 
 particle, if it were my business to examine it in its full lati- 
 tude, and consider it in all the places it is to be found; 
 which if one should do, I doubt whether in all those manners 
 it is made use of, it would deserve the title of discretive, 
 which grammarians give to it. But I intend not here a full 
 explication of this sort of signs. The instances I have given 
 in this one may give occasion to reflect on their use and foi'ce 
 in language, and lead us into the contemplation of several
 
 CHAP. VIII.J ABSTRACT AND CONCRETE TERMS, 77 
 
 actions of our minds in discoui'sing, which it has found a way 
 to intimate to others by these particles; some whereof con- 
 stantly, and othex's in certain constructions, have the sense of 
 a whole sentence contained in them. 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 OP ABSTRACT AND CONCRETE TERMS. 
 
 1. Abstract Terms not predicahle one of anotlier, and why. — 
 The ordinary words of language and oui- common use of 
 them, would have given us light into the nature of our ideas, 
 if they had been but considered with attention. The mind, 
 as has been shown, has a power to abstract its ideas, and so 
 they become essences, general essences, whereby the sorts of 
 things are distinguished. Now each abstract idea being dis- 
 tinct, so that of any two the one can never be the other, the 
 mind will by its intuitive knowledge perceive their difference, 
 and therefore in propositions no two whole ideas can ever be 
 affirmed one of another. This we see in the common use of 
 language, which permits not any two abstract words or 
 names of abstract ideas to be affirmed one of another. For 
 how near of kin soever they may seem to be, and how 
 certain soever it is that man is an animal, or rational, 
 or white, yet every one at first hearing perceives the 
 falsehood of these propositions : humanity is animality, 
 or rationality, or whiteness: and this is as evident as any 
 of the most allowed maxims. All our affirmations then 
 are only in concrete, which is the affirming, not one ab- 
 stract idea to be another, but one abstract idea to be 
 joined to another, which abstract ideas, in substances, may 
 be of any sort ; in all the rest are little else but of relations ; 
 and in substances the most frequent are of powers : v, g., " a 
 man is white," signifies that the thing that has the essence 
 of a man has also in it the essence of whiteness, which is 
 nothing but a power to produce the idea of whiteness in one 
 whose eyes can discover ordinary objects: or, "a man is 
 rational," signifies that the same thing that hath the essence 
 of a man hath also in it the essence of rationality, i. e., a 
 power of reasoning.
 
 78 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [nOOK III. 
 
 2. They show tlie Difference of our Ideas. — This distinction 
 of names shows us also the difterence of our ideas : for if we 
 observe them, we shall find that our simple ideas have all 
 abstract as well as concrete names; the one whereof is 
 (to speak the language of grammarians) a substantive, the 
 other an adjective; as whiteness, white, sweetness, sweet. 
 The like also holds in our ideas of modes and relations; as, 
 justice, just, equality, equal; only with this difference, that 
 some of the concrete names of x'elations amongst men chiefly 
 are substantives; as, paternitas, jiater; whereof it were easy 
 to render a reason; but as to our ideas of substances, we 
 have very few or no abstract names at all. For though the 
 schools have introduced animalitas, humanitas, corporietas, 
 and some others; yet they hold no proportion with that 
 infinite number of names of substances, to which they never 
 were ridiculous enough to attempt the coining of abstract 
 ones : and those few that the schools forged and put into the 
 mouths of their scholars could never yet get admittance into 
 common use, or obtain the license of public ajj^Jt'obation. 
 Which seems to me at least to intimate the confession of all 
 mankind, that they have no ideas of the real essences of 
 substances, since they have not names for such ideas : which 
 no doubt they would have had, had not their consciousness 
 to themselves of their ignorance of them kept them from so 
 idle an attempt. And therefore though they had ideas 
 enough to distinguish gold from a stone, and metal from 
 "wood ; yet they but timorously ventured on such terms, as 
 aurietas and saxietas, metallietas and lignietas, or the like 
 names, which should pretend to signify the real essences of 
 those substances whereof they knew they had no ideas. And 
 indeed it was only the doctrine of substantial forms, and the 
 confidence of mistaken pretenders to a knowledge that they 
 haiJ not, which first coined and then introduced animalitas 
 and humanitas, and the like; which yet went very little 
 further than their own schools, and could never get to be 
 current amongst understanding men. Indeed, hixmanitas 
 was a word in familiar use amongst the Romans, but in a far 
 difierent sense, and stood not for the abstract essence of any 
 substance; but was the abstracted name of a mode, and its 
 concrete humanus, not homo.
 
 CHAP. IX.] THE IMPERFECTION OF WORDS. 79 
 
 CHAPTEK IX. 
 
 OF THE IMPERFECTION OF WORDS. 
 
 1. Words are used for recording aud communicating our 
 Thoughts. — From what has been said in the foregoing chap- 
 ters, it is easy to perceive what imperfection there is in lan- 
 guage, and how the very nature of words makes it almost 
 unavoidable for many of them to be doubtful and uncertain 
 in their significations. To examine the perfection or imper- 
 fection of words, it is necessary first to consider their use and 
 end ; for as they are more or less fitted to attain that, so they 
 are more or less perfect. We have, in the former part of this 
 discourse often, upon occasion, mentioned a double use of 
 words. 
 
 First, One for the recording of our own thoughts. 
 Secondly, The other for the communicating of our thoughts 
 to others. 
 
 2. Any Words will serve for recording. — As to the first of 
 these, for the recording our own thoughts for the help of our 
 own memories, whereby, as it were, we talk to ourselves, 
 any words will serve the tiu"n. For since sounds are volun- 
 tary and indiflTerent signs of any ideas, a man may use what 
 words he pleases to signify his own ideas to himself: and 
 there will be no imperfection in them, if he constantly use 
 the same sign for the same idea; for then he cannot fail of 
 having his meaning understood, wherein consists the right 
 use and perfection of language. 
 
 3. Communication by Words civil or philosophical. — Se- 
 condly, As to communication of words, that too has a 
 double use. 
 
 I. Civil. 
 
 II. Philosophical. 
 
 First, By their civil use, I mean such a communication of 
 thoughts and ideas by words, as may serve for the upholding 
 common conversation and commerce about the ordinary 
 affairs and conveniences of civil life, in the societies of men 
 one amongst another. 
 
 Secondly, By the philosophical use of words, I mean such 
 a use of them as may seiwe to convey the precise notions of 
 things, and to express in general propositions certain and
 
 so OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III, 
 
 undoubted truths, which the mind may rest upon and be 
 satisfied with in its search after time knowledge. These two 
 uses are very distinct: and a great deal less exactness will 
 serve in the one than in the other, as we shall see in what 
 follows. . 
 
 4. TJie Imperfection of Words is the Doubtfulness of tJteir 
 Signijication. — The chief end of language in communication 
 being to be understood, words serve not well for that end, 
 neither in civil nor philosophical discoui-se, when any word 
 does not excite in the hearer the same idea which it stands 
 for in the mind of the speaker. Now, since sounds have no 
 natural connexion with our ideas, but have all their significa- 
 tion from the arbitrary imposition of men, the doubtfulness 
 and uncertainty of their signification, which is the imperfec- 
 tion we here are speaking of, has its cause more in the ideas 
 they stand for than in any inca^jacity there is in one sound 
 more than in another to signify any idea : for in that regard 
 they are all equally perfect. 
 
 That then which makes doubtfulness and uncertainty in the 
 signification of some more than other words, is the difierence 
 of ideas they stand for. 
 
 5. Causes of tlieir Imperfection. — Words having naturally 
 no signification, the idea which each stands for must be 
 learned and retained by those who would exchange thoughts 
 and hold intelligible discourse with others in any language. 
 But this is the hardest to be done where, 
 
 First, The ideas they stand for are very complex, and made 
 up of a great nvimber of ideas put together. 
 
 Secondly, Where the ideas they stand for have no certain 
 connexion in nature, and so no settled standard anywhere in 
 nature existing, to rectify and adjust them by. 
 
 Thirdly, When the signification of the word is referred to a 
 standard, which standard is not easy to be known. 
 
 Fourthly, Where the signification of the word and the real 
 essence of the thing are not exactly the same. 
 
 These are difficulties that attend the signification of sevex'al 
 words that are intelligible. Those which are not intelligible 
 at all, such as names standing for any simple ideas which 
 another has not organs or faculties to attain ; as the names of 
 colours to a blind man, or sounds to a deaf man ; need not 
 here be mentioned.
 
 CHAP. IX.] IMPERFECTION OF WORDS. 81 
 
 In all these cases we shall find an imperfection in words, 
 which I shall more at large explain in their particular apjtli- 
 cation to our several sorts of ideas : for if we examine them, 
 we shall find that the names of mixed modes are most liable 
 to doubtfulness and imperfection, for the two first of these 
 reasons ; and the names of substances chiefly for the two 
 latter. 
 
 6. The Names of mixed Modes doubtful. First, Because tlie 
 Ideas they stand for are so complex. — First, The names of 
 mixed modes are many of them liable to great uncertainty 
 and obscurity in their signification. 
 
 I. Because of that great composition these complex ideas 
 are often made up of. To make words seiwiceable to the end 
 of communication it is necessary, as has been said, that they 
 excite in the hearer exactly the same idea they stand for in 
 the mind of the speaker. Without this, men fill one another's 
 heads with noise and sounds, but convey not thereby their 
 thoughts, and lay not before one another their ideas, which is 
 the end of discourse and language. But when a word stands 
 for a very complex idea that is compounded and decom- 
 pounded, it is not easy for men to form and retain that idea 
 so exactly, as to make the name in common use stand, for the 
 same precise idea, without any the least variation. Hence it 
 comes to pass that men s names of very compound ideas, such 
 as for the most part are moral words, have seldom in two 
 different men the same precise signification ; since one man's 
 complex idea seldom agrees with anothei-'s, and often differs 
 from his own — from that which he had yesterday, or will 
 have to-morrow. 
 
 7. Secondly, because they have no Standards. — Because the 
 names of mixed modes for the most part want standards 
 in nature whereby men may rectify and adjust their signifi- 
 cations ; therefore they are very various and doubtful. They 
 are assemblages of ideas put together at the pleasure of tlie 
 mind, pursuing its own ends of discourse, and suited to its 
 own notions, whereby it designs not to copy anything really 
 existing, but to denominate and rank things as they come to 
 agree with those archetypes or forms it has made.* He that 
 
 * "The words genius and taste are, like the words beauty and virtue, 
 mere terms of general approbation, which men apply to whatever they 
 approve, without annexing any specific ideaa to them. They are, there- 
 VOL. ir. • G
 
 82 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 first brouglit the word sham, or wheedle, or banter, in use, 
 put together as he thought fit those ideas he made it stand 
 for ; and as it is with any new names of modes that are now 
 brought into any language, so it was with the old ones when 
 they were first made use of. Names, therefore, that stand 
 for collections of ideas which the mind makes at pleasure 
 must needs be of doubtful signification, when such collections 
 are nowhere to be found constantly united in nature, nor any 
 patterns to be shown whereby men may adjust them. What 
 the word murder, or sacrilege, &c., signifies can never be 
 known from things themselves : there be -many of the parts 
 of those complex ideas which are not visible in the action 
 itself ; the intention of the mind, or the relation of holy 
 things, which make a part of murder or sacrilege, have no 
 necessary connexion with the outward and visible action of 
 him that commits either : and the pulling the trigger of 
 the gun with which the murder is committed, and is all the 
 action that perhaps is visible, has no natural connexion with 
 those other ideas that make up the complex one named 
 mui'der. They have their union and combination only from 
 the understanding, which unites them under one name : but 
 uniting them without any rule or pattern, it cannot be but 
 that the signification of the name that stands for such volun- 
 tary collections should be often various in the minds of differ- 
 ent men, who have scarce any standing rule to regulate them- 
 selves and their notions by, in such arbitrary ideas. 
 
 8. Propriety not a sufficient Remedy. — It is true, common 
 use (that is, the rule of propriety) may be supposed here to 
 afibrd some aid, to settle the signification of language ; and it 
 cannot be denied but that in some measure it does. Common 
 use regulates the meaning of words pretty well for common 
 conversation ; but nobody having an authority to establish 
 the precise signification of words, nor determined to what 
 ideas any one shall annex them, common use is not sufficient 
 
 fore, as often employed to signify extravagant novelty as genuine merit ; 
 and it is only time that arrests the abuse. Purity, simplicity, grace, and 
 elegance, are, as well as beauty, qualities that are always equally admired, 
 because the words by which they are expressed are teims of approbation. 
 But, nevertheless, these terms are entirely under the influence of fashion ; 
 and are applied to every novelty of style or manner, to which accident or 
 caprice gives a momentary currency." (Payne Knight, Analytical Inq. 
 into the Prin. of Taste, p. Ill, c. iii. § 5.)— Ed.
 
 CHAP. IX.] IMPERFECTION OF WORDS. 83 
 
 to adjust them to philosophical discourses ; there being scarce 
 any name of any very complex idea (to say nothing of othei-s) 
 which in common use has not a great latitude, and which, 
 keeping within the bounds of propriety, may not be made the 
 sign of far diflei-ent ideas. Besides, the rule and measure of 
 propriety itself being nowhere established, it is often matter 
 of dispute, whether this or that way of using a word be pro- 
 priety of speech or no. From all which it is evident, that 
 the names of such kind of very complex ideas are naturally 
 liable to this imperfection, to be of doubtful and uncertain 
 signification ; and even in men that have a mind to under- 
 stand one another, do not always stand for the same idea in 
 speaker and hearer. Though the names glory and gratitude 
 be the same in every man's mouth through a whole country, 
 yet the complex collective idea which eveiy one thinks on or 
 intends by that name, is apparently very different in men 
 using the same language. 
 
 9. The way of learning these Navies contributes also to tlieir 
 Douhtfnlness. — The way also wherein the names of mixed 
 modes are ordinarily learned, does not a little contribute to 
 the doubtfulness of their signification. For if we will observe 
 how children learn languages, we shall find that, to make 
 them understand what the names of simple ideas or sub- 
 stances stand for, people ordinarily show them the thing 
 whereof they would have them have the idea ; and then 
 repeat to them the name that stands for it ; as, white, sweet, 
 milk, sugar, cat, dog. But as for mixed modes — especially 
 the most material of them, moral words — the sounds are 
 usually learned first ; and then, to know what complex ideas 
 they stand for, they are either beholden to the explication of 
 others, or (which happens for the most part) are left to their 
 own observation and industry ; which being little laid out in 
 the search of the tnie and precise meaning of names, these 
 moral words are in most men's mouths little more than bare 
 sounds ; or when they have any, it is for the most part but a 
 very loose and undetermined, and, consequently, obscure and 
 confused signification. And even those themselves who have 
 with more attention settled their notions, do yet hardly avoid 
 the inconvenience to have them stand for complex ideas 
 different from those which other, even intelligent and stu- 
 dious men, make them the signs of. Where shall one find 
 
 G 2
 
 84 OF HUMAX UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 any, either controversial debate, or familiar discourse, con- 
 cerning honour, faith, grace, religion, church, &c., wherein it 
 is not easy to observe the different notions men have of 
 them 1 which is nothing but this, that they are not agreed 
 in the signification of those words, nor have in their minds 
 the same complex ideas which they make them stand for, and 
 and so all the contests that follow thereupon are only about 
 the meaning of a sound : and hence we see, that, in the inter- 
 pretation of laws, whether divine or human, there is no end ; 
 comments beget comments, and explications make new 
 matter for explications ; and of limiting, distinguishing, vary- 
 ing the signification of these moral words there is no end. 
 These ideas of men's making are, by men still having the 
 same jDower, multiplied in infinitum. Many a man who was 
 pretty well satisfied of the meaning of a text of Scripture, or 
 clause in the code, at first reading, has, by consulting com- 
 mentators, quite lost the sense of it, and by these elucidations 
 given rise or increase to his doubts, and drawn obscurity 
 upon the place. I say not this that I think commentaries 
 needless ; but to show how macertain. the names of mixetl 
 modes naturally are, even in the mouths of those who had 
 both the intention and the faculty of speaking as clearly as 
 language was capable to express their thoughts. 
 
 10. Hence unawoidahle Obscurity in ancient Authors. — 
 Wliat obsciu'ity this has imavoidably brought upon the 
 ^\^.■itings of men who have lived in remote ages and difierent 
 counti'ies it will be needless to take notice; since the nume- 
 i'ous volumes of learned men employing their thoughts that 
 way are proofs more than enough to show what attention, 
 study, sagacity, and reasoning are required to find out 
 the true meaning of ancient authors. But there being no 
 writings we have any gi-eat concernment to be very 
 sol'citous about the meaning of, but those that contain 
 either tiniths we are required to believe, or laws we are 
 to obey, and draw inconveniences on us when we mistake 
 or transgress, we may be less anxious about the sense 
 of other authors; who, ^vriting but their own opinions, 
 we are under no greater necessity to know them, than they 
 to know ours. Our good or evil depending not on their 
 decrees, we may safely be ignorant of their notions; and 
 therefore in the reading of them, if they do not use their
 
 CHAP. IX.] IMPERFECTION OF WORDS. 85 
 
 ■words with a due clearness and jierspicuity, we may lay 
 them aside, and without any injury done them, resolve tlm.s 
 with otirselves, 
 
 "Si uon vis intelligi, debes negligi." 
 
 11. Natms of Substances of doubtful Signification. — If the 
 signification of the names of mixed modes be uncertain, be- 
 cause there be no real standards existing in nature to which 
 those ideas are referred, and by which they may be adjusted, 
 the names of substances are of a doubtful signification for a 
 contrary reason, viz., because the ideas they stand for are 
 sujiposed conformable to the reality of things, and are re- 
 ferred to as standards made by Nature. In our ideas of sub- 
 stances we have not the liberty, as in mixed modes, to frame 
 what combinations we think fit, to be the characteristical 
 notes to rank and denominate things by. In these we must 
 foUow Nature, suit our complex ideas to real existences, and 
 regulate the signification of their names by the things them- 
 selves, if we will have our names to be signs of them, and 
 stand for them. Here, it is true, we have patterns to 
 follow; but patterns that will make the signification of 
 their names very imcei'tain: for names must be of a very 
 unsteady and various meaning, if the ideas they stand for 
 be referred to standards without us, that either cannot be 
 known at all, or can be known but imperfectly and un- 
 certainly. 
 
 12. Names of Substances referred, 1. To real Essences that 
 cannot be known. — The names of substances have, as has 
 been shoAvn, a double reference in their ordinary use. 
 
 First, Sometimes they are made to stand for, and so their 
 signification is su[)posed to agree to, the real constitution of 
 things, from which all their pi'operties flow, and in which 
 they all centre. But this real constitution, or (as it is apt to 
 be called) essence, being utterly unknown to us, any sound 
 that is put to stand for it must be very uncertain in its 
 application ; and it will be impossible to know what things 
 are or ought to be called a horse, or antimony, when those 
 words are put for real essences that we have no ideas of at 
 all. And therefore in this supposition, the names of sub- 
 stances being referi'ed to standards that cannot be known, 
 their significations can never be adjusted and established by 
 those standards.
 
 86 OF HUMAN UXDERSTANDING. [bOOK IIII 
 
 13. Secondly, To co-existing Qiialities, which are known but 
 imperfectly. — Secondly, The simple ideas that are found to 
 co-exist in substances being that which their names imme- 
 diately signify, these, as united in the several soi"ts of things, 
 are the jjroper standards to which their names are referred, 
 and by which their significations may be best rectified : but 
 neither will these archetypes so well serve to this purpose 
 as to leave these names without veiy various and uncertain 
 significations; because these simple ideas that co-exist and 
 ai"e united in the same subject being very numerous, and 
 having all an equal right to go into the complex specific idea 
 which the specific name is to stand for, men, though they 
 propose to themselves the very same subject to consider, yet 
 frame very different ideas about it; and so the name they 
 use for it imavoidably comes to have, in several men, very 
 different significations. The simple qualities which make up 
 the complex ideas being most of them powers in relation to 
 changes which they are apt to make in or receive from other 
 bodies, are almost infinite. He that shall but observe what 
 a great variety of alterations any one of the baser metals is 
 apt to receive from the different application only of fire, and 
 how much a greater number of changes any of them will 
 receive in the hands of a chymist, by the application of 
 other bodies, will not think it strange that I count the pro- 
 perties of any sort of bodies not easy to be collected and 
 completely known by the ways of inquiry which our faculties 
 ai'e capable of. They being therefore at least so many, that 
 no man can know the precise and definite number, they are 
 differently discovered by different men, according to their 
 various skill, attention, and ways of handling ; who therefore 
 cannot choose but have different ideas of the same substance, 
 and therefore make the signification of its common name 
 very various and uncertain. For the complex ideas of sub- 
 stances being made up of such simple ones as are supposed 
 to co-exist in nature, every one has a right to put into his 
 complex idea those qualities he has found to be united to- 
 gether. For though in the siTbstance of gold one satisfies 
 himself with colour and weight, yet another thinks solubility 
 in aq. regia as necessary to be joined with that colour in his 
 idea of gold, as any one does its fusibility ; solubility in 
 aq. regia being a quality as constantly joined with its colour
 
 CHAP. IX.] IMPERFECTION OF WORDS. 87 
 
 and weight as fusibility or auy otlier; others put into it 
 ductility or fixedness, &c., as they have been taught by 
 tradition or experience. Who of all these has established 
 the right signification of the word, gold? or who shall be 
 the judge to determine? Each has his standard in nature, 
 which he appeals to, and with reason thinks he has the same 
 right to put into his complex idea signified by the word gold, 
 those qualities, which, upon trial, he has found united; as 
 another who has not so well examined has to leave them 
 out; or a third, who has made other ti'ials, has to put in 
 others. For the imion in nature of these qualities being the 
 true ground of their union in one complex idea, who can say 
 one of them has more reason to be put in or left out than 
 another? From hence it will unavoidably follow, that the 
 complex ideas of substances in men using the same names 
 for them, will be very vai-ious, and so the significations of 
 those names very uncertain. 
 
 14. Thirdly, To co-existing Qualities ivhich are known but 
 imperfectly. — Besides, there is scarce any particular thing 
 existing, which, in some of its simple ideas, does not com- 
 invmicate with a greatei', and in others a less number of par- 
 ticvdar beings: who shall determine in this case which are 
 those that are to make up the precise collection that is to be 
 signified by the specific name? or can with any just authority 
 prescribe which obvious or common qualities are to be left 
 out; or which more secret or more particular are to be put 
 into the signification of the name of any substance? All 
 which together seldom or never fail to produce that various 
 and doubtfid signification in the names of substances which 
 causes such uncei-tainty, disputes, or mistakes, when we come 
 to a philosophical use of them. 
 
 15. With this Imperfection — they may serve for civil, hut 
 not well for philosophical Use. — It is true, as to civil and com- 
 mon conversation, the general names of substances, regulated 
 in their ordinary signification by some obvious qualities, (as 
 by the shape and figure in things of known seminal j^ropa- 
 gation, and in other substaxices, lor the most part by colour, 
 joined with some other sensible qualities,) do well enough to 
 design the things men would be undei-stood to speak of: and 
 so they usually conceive well enough the substances meant 
 by the word gold or apple, to distinguish the one from the
 
 88 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 other. But in philosophical inquiries and debates, where 
 general truths are to be established, and consequences drawn 
 from positions laid down, there the precise signification of 
 the names of substances will be found not only not to be well 
 established, but also very hard to be so. For example : he 
 that shall make malleableness or a certain degree of fixed- 
 ness a pai-t of his complex idea of gold, may make propo- 
 sitions concerning gold, and draw consequences from them 
 that will tnily and clearly follow from gold, taken in such 
 a signification : but yet such as another man can never be 
 forced to admit, nor be convinced of their tinith, who makes 
 not malleableness or the same degree of fixedness pai't of 
 that complex idea that the name gold, in his use of it, stands 
 for. 
 
 16. Instomce, Liquor. — This is a natural and almost un- 
 avoidable imperfection in almost all the names of substances 
 in all languages whatsoever, which men will easily find 
 when, once passing from confused or loose notions, they 
 come to more strict and close inquiries. For then they will 
 be convinced how doubtful and obscure those words are iu 
 their signification which in ordinary use appeared very clear 
 and determined. I was once in a meeting of very learned 
 and ingenious physicians, where by chance there arose a 
 question, whether any liquor passed through the filaments 
 of the nerves. The debate having been managed a good 
 while by variety of arguments on both sides, I (who had 
 been used to suspect that the greatest part of disputes were 
 more about the signification of words than a real difference 
 in the concej)tion of things) desired, that, before they went 
 any further on in this dispute, they would first examine and 
 establish amongst them, what the word liquor signified. 
 They at first were a little surprised at the proposal, and had 
 they been persons less ingenious, they might perhaps have 
 taken it for a very frivolous or extravagant one : since there 
 was no one thei-e that thought not himself to understand very 
 perfectly what the word liquor stood for, which I think, too, 
 none of the most perplexed names of substances. However, 
 they were pleased to comply with my motion; and upon 
 examination found that the signification of that word was not 
 so settled or certain as they had all imagined; but that each 
 of them made it a sign of a different complex idea. This
 
 OHAP. IX.] mPERFECTION OP WORDS. 89 
 
 made them perceive that the main of theii* dispute was 
 about the signification of that term ; and that they differctl 
 very little in their opinions concerning some fluid and subtle 
 matter, passing through the conduits of the nerves ; though 
 it was not so easy to agree whether it was to be called liquor 
 or no — a thing, which, when considered, they thought it not 
 worth the contending about.* 
 
 17. Instance, Gold. — How much this is the case in the 
 greatest part of disputes that men are engaged so hotly in, 
 I shall perhaps have an occasion in another place to take 
 notice. Let us only here consider a little more exactly the 
 fore-mentioned instance of the word gold, and we shall see 
 how hard it is precisely to determine its signification. I 
 think all agi'ee to make it stand for a body of a certain yel- 
 low shining colour; which being the idea to which children 
 have annexed that name, the shining yellow part of a pea- 
 cock's tail is properly to them gold. Others finding fusi- 
 bility joined with that yellow colour in certain parcels of 
 matter, make of that combination a complex idea, to which 
 they give the name gold, to denote a soiii of substances; and 
 so exclude from being gold all such yellow shining bodies 
 as by fire will be reduced to ashes; and admit to be of that 
 
 * The controversy here alluded to still remains unsettled ; the hypo- 
 theses of physiologists on the subject being in fact as numerous as ever. 
 Blumenbach represents the present state of opinion among scientific 
 men ; and from his account the reader wUl probably infer that the dispute 
 is likely to be co- lasting with physiology itself Speaking of the nature of 
 the nerves, heobseives: — "Most opinions on this subject may be divided 
 into two classes : the one regards the actions of the nervous system as 
 consisting in an oscillatory motion ; the other abscribes it to the motion 
 of a certain fluid, whose nature is a matter of dispute, by some called 
 animal spirits, and supposed to run in vessels ; by others conceived to 
 be a matter analogous to fixe, to light, to a peculiar a;ther, to oxygen, 
 to electricity, or to magnetism, &c. Although I would by no meana 
 assent to either of these opinions, I may be allowed to observe, that 
 most arguments brought by one party against the hypothesis of the other, 
 must necessarily be made in proportion to the subtlety either of the os- 
 cillations (if any such exist) of the nerves, or to that of the nervous 
 fluid. These two hypotheses may perhaps be united, by supposing a 
 nervous fluid, thrown into oscillatoiy vibrations by the action of stimu- 
 lants. The analogy between the structure of the brain and some secret- 
 ing organs favours the belief of the existence of a nervous fluid. But 
 tubes and canals are evidently no more requisite for its conveyance, than 
 they are requisite in bibulous paper, or any other material employed for 
 filtering." (Physiology, § 222, et seq.) — £d.
 
 90 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 species, or to be comprehended under that name gold, only- 
 such substances as, having that shining yellow colour, will 
 by fire be reduced to fusion and not to ashes. Another, by 
 the same reason, adds the weight, which, being a quality as 
 straightly joined with that coloui* as its fusibility, he thinks 
 has the same reason to be joined in its idea, and to be sig- 
 nified by its name ; and therefore the other made up of body, 
 of such a colour and fusibility, to be imperfect; and so on 
 of all the rest : wherein no one can show a reason why some 
 of the inseparable qualities that are always united in nature 
 should be put into the nominal essence, and others left out : 
 or why the word gold signifying that sort of body the ring 
 on his finger is made of, should determine that sort rather 
 by its colour, weight, and fusibility, than by its colour, 
 weight, and solubility in aq. regia : since the dissolving it 
 by that liquor is as inseparable from it as the fusion by fire; 
 and they are both of them nothing but the relation which 
 that substance has to two other bodies, which have a power 
 to operate differently upon it. For by what right is it that 
 fusibility comes to be a part of the essence signified by the 
 word gold, and solubility but a property of it? or why is 
 its colour part of the essence, and its malleableness but a 
 property? That which I mean is this, that these being all 
 but properties, depending on its real constitution, and nothing 
 but powers, either active or passive, in reference to other 
 bodies, no one has authority to determine the signification 
 of the word gold (as referred to such a body existing in 
 nature) more to one collection of ideas to be found in that 
 body than to another; whereby the signification of that 
 name must unavoidably be very uncertain ; since, as has been 
 said, several people observe several properties in the same 
 substance, and I think I may say nobody at all. And there- 
 tore we have but very imperfect descriptions of things, and 
 words have very uncertain significations. 
 
 18. Tlie Names of simjyle Ideas the least doubtful. — From 
 what has been said, it is easy to observe what has been 
 before remarked, viz., that the names of simple ideas are, 
 of all others, the least liable to mistakes, and that for these 
 reasons : First, Because the ideas they stand for being each 
 but one single perception are much easier got, and more 
 clearly retained than the more complex ones, and therefore
 
 .CHAP. IX.] IMPERFECTION OF WORDS. 91 
 
 are not liable to the uncertainty which usually attends those 
 compounded ones of substances and mixed modes, in which 
 the pi'ecise number of simple ideas that make them up are 
 not easily agreed, and so readily kept in the mind; and 
 Secondly, Because they are never referred to any other 
 essence, but barely that perception they immediately signify : 
 which reference is that which renders the signification of the 
 names of substances natiu'aUy so perplexed, and gives occa- 
 sion to so many disputes. Men that do not perversely use 
 their words, or on purpose set themselves to cavil, seldom 
 mistake in any language which they are acquainted with, 
 the use and signification of the names of simple ideas. White 
 and sweet, yellow and bitter, carry a very ob'S'ious meaning 
 wdth them, which every one precisely comprehends, or easily 
 perceives he is ignorant of, and seeks to be infonned; but 
 what precise collection of simple ideas modesty or frugality 
 stand for in another's use is not so certainly known, and 
 however we are apt to think we well enough know what is 
 meant by gold or iron; yet the precise complex idea others 
 make them the signs of, is not so certain, and I believe it is 
 very seldom that, in speaker and hearer, they stand for exactly 
 the same collection; which must needs produce mistakes 
 and disputes when they are made use of in discourses, 
 wherein men have to do with universal propositions, and 
 would settle in their minds universal truths, and consider 
 the consequences that foUow from them. 
 
 19. And next to them, simple Modes. — By the same rule, 
 the names of simple modes are, next to those of simple ideas, 
 least liable to doubt and uncei'tainty, especially those of 
 figure and number, of which men have so clear and distinct 
 ideas. Who ever that had a mind to understand them mis- 
 took the ordinary meaning of seven, or a triangle? and in 
 general the least compounded ideas in every kind have the 
 least dubious names. 
 
 20. The most douhtfid o/)'e tJie Names of very compounded 
 mixed Modes and Substances. — Mixed modes, therefore, that are 
 made up but of a few and obvious simple ideas, have usually 
 names of no very uncertain signification. But the names of 
 mixed modes, which comprehend a great number of simple 
 ideas, are commonly of a very doubtful and undetermined 
 meaning, as has been shown. The names of substances being
 
 92 OF HUMAN UNBERSTAXDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 annexed to ideas that are neither the real essences nor exact 
 representations of the patterns they are referred to, are liable 
 to yet greater imperfection and uncertainty, especially when 
 we come to a philosophical use of them. 
 
 21. Why this Imjyerfection charged tqoon Wo7'ds. — The great 
 disorder that happens in om* names of substances proceeding, 
 for the most paii;, from our want of knowledge and inability 
 to penetrate into their real constitutions, it may probably be 
 wondered why I charge this as an imperfection rather upon 
 our words than understandings. This exception has so 
 much appearance of justice, that I think myself obliged to 
 give a reason why I have followed this method. I must 
 confess, then, that, when I first began this discourse of the 
 understanding, and a good while after, I had not the least 
 thought that any consideration of words was at all necessary 
 to it; but when, having passed over the original and composition 
 of our ideas, I began to examine the extent and certainty of 
 our knowledge, I found it had so near a connexion with 
 words, that, imless their force and manner of signification 
 were fii-st well observed, thei-e could be very little said clearly 
 and pertinently concerning knowledge, which being conver- 
 sant about truth, had constantly to do with propositions; 
 and though it terminated in things, yet it was for the most 
 part so much by the intei^ention of words, that they seemed 
 scarce separable from our general knowledge; at least they 
 interpose themselves so much between om* understandings 
 and the truth which it would contemplate and apprehend, 
 that, like the medium through which visible objects pass, 
 their obscurity and disorder do not seldom cast a mist before 
 our eyes, and impose upon our understandings. If we con- 
 sider, in the fallacies men put upon themselves as well as 
 others, and the mistakes in men's disputes and notions, how 
 great a part is owing to words, and their uncertain and mis- 
 taken significations, we shall have reason to think this no 
 small obstacle in the way to knowledge; which I conclude 
 we are the more carefully to be warned of, because it has 
 been so far from being taken notice of as an inconvenience, 
 that the arts of improving it have been made the business of 
 men's study, and obtained the reputation of learning and 
 subtilty, as we shall see in the following chapter. But I am 
 apt to imagine, that, were the imperfections of language, a^
 
 CHAP. IX.] IMPERFECTION OF WORDS. 93 
 
 the instrument of knowledge, more thoi'oughly weighed, a 
 great many of the controversies that make such a noise in the 
 world, would of themselves cease; and the way to knowledge, 
 and perhaps peace too, lie a great deftl opener thanit does. 
 
 22. lids slionld teach us Moderation in imposing our ovm 
 Sense of old Autlwrs. — Sure I am that the signification ot 
 words in all languages depending very miich on the thoughts, 
 notions, and ideas of him that iises them, must unavoidably 
 be of great uncertainty to men of the same language and 
 country. This is so evident in the Greek authors, that he 
 that shall peruse their wTitings will find in almost every one of 
 them a distinct language, though the same words. But when 
 to this natural difficulty in every country there shall be added 
 different countries and remote ages, wherein the speakers and 
 writers had very different notions, tempers, customs, ornaments, 
 and figures of speech, &c., every one of which influenced the 
 signification of their words then, though to us now they are 
 lost and unknown; it would become us to be charitable one 
 to another in our intei-pretations or misimderstanding of 
 those ancient writings ; which, though of great concernment 
 to be understood, are liable to the unavoidable difficulties of 
 speech, which (if we except the names of simple ideas, and 
 some very obvioiis things) is not capable, without a constant 
 defining the terms, of conveying the sense and intention of 
 the speaker, without any manner of doubt and uncertainty 
 to the hearer. And in discourses of religion, law, and 
 morality, as they are matters of the highest concernment, so 
 there will be the greatest difficulty. 
 
 23. The volumes of interpreters and commentators on the 
 Old and New Testament are but too manifest proofs of this. 
 Though everything said in the text be infallibly true, yet 
 the reader may be — nay, cannot choose but be very fallible 
 in the understanding of it. Kor is it to be wondered, that 
 the will of God, when clothed in words, should be liable to 
 that doubt and uncertainty which unavoidably attends that 
 sort of conveyance; when even his Son, whilst clothed in 
 flesh, was subject to all the frailties and inconveniences of 
 human nature, sin excepted. And we ought to magnify his 
 goodness that he hath spread before all the world such legible 
 characters of his works and providence, and given all man- 
 kind so sufficient a light of reason, that they to whom this
 
 94 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAIfDTNG. [bOOK III 
 
 wi'itten -word never came, could not (whenever they set 
 themselves to search) either doubt of the being of a God, or 
 of the obedience due to him. Since, then, the precepts of 
 natm-al religion are plain, and very intelligible to aU man- 
 kind, and seldom come to be controverted ; and other revealed 
 truths which are conveyed to us by books and languages are 
 liable to the common and natural obscurities and difficulties 
 incident to words; methinks it would become us to be more 
 careful and diligent in observing the former, and less magis- 
 terial, positive, and imperious, in imposing our own sense and 
 interpretations of the latter. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF THE ABUSE OF WORDS. 
 
 1. Ahiise of Words. — Besides the imperfection that is 
 naturally in language, and the obscurity and confusion that 
 is so hard to be avoided in the use of words, there are several 
 wilful faults and neglects which men are guilty of in this 
 way of communication, whereby they render these signs less 
 clear and distinct in their signification than naturally they 
 need to be. 
 
 2. First, Words witJiout any, or without clear Ideas. — Fii'st, 
 In this kind the first and most palpable abuse is, the using 
 of words without clear and distinct ideas ; or, which is worse, 
 signs without anything signified. Of these there are two 
 sorts. 
 
 1. One may obsei-ve in all languages certain words, that, 
 if they be examined, will be found in then' first original and 
 their appropriated use not to stand for any clear and distinct 
 ideas. These, for the most part, the several sects of philosophy 
 and religion have introduced ; for their authors or promoters, 
 either affecting something singular and out of the way of 
 common apprehensions, or to support some strange opinions, 
 or cover some weakness of their hypothesis, seldom fail to 
 coin new words, and such as, when they come to be examined, 
 may justly be called insignificant terms. For having either 
 had no determinate collection of ideas annexed to them when 
 they were first invented; or at least such as, if well examined, 
 will be found inconsistent; it is no wonder, if, after inward,
 
 CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. 95 
 
 the vulgar use of the same party they remain empty sounds 
 with little or no signification amongst those who think it 
 enough to have them often in their mouths, as the distin- 
 guishing charactei's of their church or school, without much 
 troubling their heads to examine what are the jirecise ideas 
 they stand for. I shall not need liere to heap up instances — 
 every man's reading and conversation will sufficiently furnish 
 him, or if he wants to be better stored, the great mint- 
 masters of this kind of terms, I mean the schoolmen and 
 metaphysicians (under which I think the disputing natural 
 and moral philosophers of these latter ages may be compre- 
 hended) have wherewithal abundantly to content him. 
 
 3. II. Others there be who extend this abuse yet fui-ther, 
 who take so little care to lay by words, which, in their 
 primary notation have scarce any clear and distinct ideas 
 which they are annexed to, that by an unpardonable neg- 
 ligence they familiarly use words which the ])ropriety of 
 language has affixed to very important ideas, without any 
 distinct meaning at all. Wisdom, glory, grace, «fec., are 
 woi'ds frequent enough in every man's mouth; but if a great 
 many of those who use them should be asked what they 
 mean by them, they would be at a stand, and not know what 
 to answer: a plain proof, that, though they have learned 
 those sounds, and have them ready at their tongues' end, yet 
 there are no determined ideas laid up in their minds, which 
 are to be expressed to others by them. 
 
 4, Occasioned hy learning Names before tlie Ideas they he- 
 long to. — Men having been accustomed from their cradles to 
 learn words which are easily got and retained, before they 
 knew or had framed the complex ideas to which they were 
 annexed, or which were to be found in the things they were 
 thought to stand for, they usually continue to do so all their 
 lives; and without taking the pains necessary to settle in 
 their minds determined ideas, they use their words for such 
 unsteady and confused notions as they have ; contenting 
 themselves with the same words other people use : as if their 
 very sound necessarily carried with it constantly the same 
 meaning. This, though men make a shift with in the ordi- 
 nary occurrences of life, where they find it necessary to be 
 understood, and therefore they make signs till they are so ; 
 yet this insignificancy in their words, when they come to
 
 96 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK lit 
 
 reason concerning either their tenets or interest, manifestly 
 fills their discourse with abundance of empty unintelligible 
 noise and jargon, es}iecially in moral matters, where the 
 words for the most part standing for arbitrary and numerous 
 collections of ideas, not regularly and permanently united in 
 nature, their bare sounds are often only thought on, or at 
 least very obscure and uncertain notions annexed to them. 
 Men take the words they find in use amongst their neigh- 
 bours; and that they may not seem ignorant what they 
 stand for, use them confidently, without much troubling 
 their heads about a certain fixed meaning; whereby, besides 
 the ease of it, they obtain this advantage, that, as in such 
 discourses they seldom are in the right, so they are as seldom 
 to be convinced that they are in the wrong; it being all one 
 to go about to draw those men out of their mistakes who 
 have no settled notions, as to dispossess a Tagrant of his 
 habitation who has no settled abode. This I guess to be so, 
 and every one may observe in himself and others whether it 
 be so or not. 
 
 5. II. U'iisteady Application of tliem. — Secondly, Another 
 gi'eat abuse of words is inconstancy in the use of them. It 
 is hard to find a discourse written on any subject, especially 
 of controvei-sy, wherein one shall not observe, if he read with 
 attention, the same words (and those commonly the most 
 material in the discourse, and upon which the argument 
 turns) used sometimes for one collection of simple ideas, and 
 sometimes for another ; which is a perfect abuse of language : 
 words being intended for signs of my ideas to make them 
 known to others, not by any natural signification, but by a 
 voluntary imposition, it is plain cheat and abuse, when I 
 make them stand sometimes for one thing and sometimes for 
 another; the wilful doing whereof can be imputed to nothing 
 but great folly, oi' gi-eater dishonesty. And a man in his 
 accounts with another may, with as much fairness make the 
 characters of numbers stand sometimes for one and sometimes 
 for another collection of units (v, g., this character, 3, stands 
 sometimes for three, sometimes for four, and sometimes for 
 eight) as in liis discourse or reasoning make the same words 
 stand for difierent collections of simple ideas. If men should 
 do so in their reckonings, I wonder who would have to do 
 with theml One who would speak thus in the afiairs and
 
 CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. 97 
 
 business of the world, and call 8 sometimes seven, and some- 
 times nine, as best seiTed his advantage, would presently 
 have clapped upon him one of the two names men are com- 
 monly disgusted with. And yet in arguings and learned 
 contests, the same sort of proceedings passes commonly for 
 wit and learning; but to me it a])pears a greater dishonesty 
 than the misplacing of counters in the casting up a debt; 
 and the cheat the greater, by how much truth is of greater 
 concernment and value than money. 
 
 6. III. Affected Obscurity by torong Application. — Thirdly, 
 Another abuse of language is an affected obscurity, by either 
 applymg old words to new and unusual significations, or in- 
 troducing new and ambiguous terms, without defining either ; 
 or else putting them so together, as may confound their ordi- 
 nary meaning. Though the Peripatetic philosophy has been 
 most emment in this way, yet other sects have not been wholly 
 clear of it. There are scarce any of them that are not cum- 
 bered with some difficulties (such is the imperfection of 
 human knowledge) which they have been fain to cover with 
 obscurity of terms, and to confound the signification of words, 
 which, like a mist before people's eyes, might hinder their 
 weak parts from being discovered. That body and extension 
 in common use stand for two distinct ideas, is plain to any 
 one that will but reflect a little. For were their signification 
 precisely the same, it would be proper, and as intelligible to 
 say, the body of an extension, as the extension of a body; 
 and yet there are those who find it necessary to confound 
 their signification. To this abuse, and the mischiefs of con- 
 foiinding the signification of words, logic and the liberal 
 sciences, as they have been handled in the schools, have given 
 reputation; and the admired art of disputing hath adde'd 
 much to the natural imperfection of languages, whilst it has 
 been made use of and fitted to perplex the signification of 
 words, more than to discover the knowledge and truth of 
 things; and he that will look into that sort of learned 
 writings, will find the words there much more obscure, 
 uncertain, and undetermined in their meaning, than they are 
 in ordinary conversation. 
 
 7. Logic and Dispute have much contributed to this. — This 
 is unavoidably to be so, where men's parts and learning are 
 estimated by their skill in disputing. And if reputation and 
 
 VOL. n. H
 
 98 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDIKG. [bOOK III. 
 
 reward shall attend these conquests, which depend mostlv on 
 the fineness and niceties of words, it is no wonder if the wit 
 of man so employed, should perplex, involve, and subtilize 
 the signification of sounds, so as never to want something to 
 say in opposing or defending any question ; the A'ictoiy being 
 adjudged not to him who had truth on his side, but the last 
 word in the disunite. 
 
 8. Galling it Suhtilty. — This, though a very useless skill, 
 and that which I think the direct opposite to the ways of 
 knowledge, hath yet passed hitherto under the laudable and 
 esteemed names of subtiity and acuteness, and has had the 
 applause of the schools, and encouragement of one part of the 
 learned men of the world.* And no wonder, since the philoso- 
 phers of old, (the disputing and wrangling jahilosophers, I 
 mean such as Lucian wittily and with reason taxes,) and the 
 schoolmen since, aiming at glory and esteem for their great 
 and universal knowledge, easier a great deal to be pretended 
 to than really acquired, found this a good expedient to cover 
 their ignorance with a curious and inexplicable web of per- 
 plexed words, and jDrocure to themselves the admiration of 
 others by unintelligible terms, the apter to produce wonder 
 because they could not be understood ; whilst it appears in 
 all history, that these profound doctors were no wiser nor 
 more useful than their neighbours, and brought but small 
 advantage to human life or the societies wherein they lived ; 
 unless the coining of new words where they joroduced no new 
 things to ajDply them to, or the perplexing or obscuring the 
 signification of old ones, and so bringing all things into 
 question and dispute, were a thing profitable to the Life of 
 man, or worthy commendation and reward. 
 
 9. This Learning very little benefits Society. — For, notwith- 
 standing these learned disputants, these all-knowing doctors, 
 it was to the unscholastic statesman that the governments of 
 the world owed their peace, defence, and liberties ; and from 
 the illiterate and contemned mechanic (a name of disgrace) 
 that they received the improvements of useful arts. Never- 
 theless, this artificial ignorance and learned gibberish pre- 
 vailed mightily in these last ages, by the interest and artifice 
 of those who found no easier way to that pitch of authority 
 
 * For example, in his Hermotinius, Anglez, and Sale of the Philoso- 
 phers. — Ed.
 
 CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. 09 
 
 and dominion they have attained, than by amusing the men 
 of business and ignorant with hard words, or employing the 
 ingenious and idle in intricate disputes about unintelligible 
 terms, and holding them perpetually entangled in that end- 
 less labyi'inth. Besides, there is no such way to gain ad- 
 mittance or give defence to strange and absurd doctrines, 
 as to guard them round about with legions of obscure, doubt- 
 ful, and undefined words, Avhich yet make these retreats 
 more like the dens of robbers, or holes of foxes, than the 
 fortresses of fair wan-iors, which, if it be hard to get them 
 out of, it is not for the strength that is in them, but the 
 briars and thorns, and the obscurity of the thickets they are 
 beset with. For untruth being unacce^itable to the mind 
 of man, there is no other defence left for absurdity but 
 obscurity. 
 
 10. But destroys the Instruments of Knowledge and Com- 
 munication. — Thus learned ignorance, and this art of keeping 
 even inquisitive men from true knowledge hath been pro- 
 pagated in the world, and hath much perplexed whilst it 
 pretended to inform the understanding. For we see that 
 other well-meaning and wise men, whose education and parts 
 had not acquired that acuteness, could intelligibly express 
 themselves to one another, and in its plain use make a benefit 
 of language. But though unlearned men well enough under- 
 stood the words white and black, &c., and had constant 
 notions of the ideas signified by those words, yet there were 
 philosophers found who had learning and subtility enough to 
 prove that snow was black ; i. e., to prove that white was 
 black. Whereby they had the advantage to destroy the 
 instruments and means of discom'se, conversation, instruction, 
 and society, whilst with great art and subtilty they did no 
 more but perplex and confound the signification of words, 
 and thereby render language less useful than the real de- 
 fects of it had made it; a gift which the illiterate had not 
 attained to. 
 
 11. As tiseful as to confound the Sound of tloe Letters. — 
 These learned men did equally instinict men's understandings 
 and profit their lives, as he who should alter the significa- 
 tion of known chai-acters, and by a subtle device of learning, 
 far surpassing the capacity of the illiterate, dull, and vulgar, 
 should in his writing show that he could put A for B, and 
 
 H 2
 
 100 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 D for E, &c., to the no small admiration and benefit of his 
 reader; it being as senseless to put black, which is a word 
 agreed on to stand for one sensible idea, to put it, I say, 
 for another, or the contrary idea; i.e., to call snow black, 
 as to put this mark A, which is a character agreed on to 
 stand for one modification of sound made by a certain motion 
 of the organs of speech, for B, which is agreed on to stand 
 for another modification of sound made by another certain 
 mode of the organs of speech. 
 
 1 2. Tlds A rt has perplexed Religion and Justice. — Nor hath 
 this mischief stopped in logical niceties, or curious empty 
 .speculations; it hath invaded the great concernments of 
 human life and society — obscured and perplexed the material 
 truths of law and divinity — brought confusion, disorder, and 
 uncertainty into the afiairs of mankind, and if not destroyed, 
 yet in a great measure rendered useless these two great rules, 
 religion and justice. What have the greatest part of the 
 comments and disputes upon the laws of God and man served 
 for, biit to make the meaning more doubtful, and perplex 
 the sense ] What have been the efiect of those multiplied 
 curious distinctions and acute niceties but obscurity and 
 uncertainty, leaving the words more imintelligible, and the 
 reader more at a loss 1 How else comes it to pass that princes 
 speaking or writing to their servants, in their ordinary com- 
 mands are easily under.stood; speaking to their people in 
 their laws, are not so? And, as I remarked before, doth it 
 not often happen that a man of an ordinary capacity veiy 
 well understands a text or a law that he reads, till he consults 
 an expositor or goes to counsel, who, by that time he hath 
 clone explaining them, makes the words signify either nothing 
 at all, or what he pleases. 
 
 13. And ought not to pass for Learning. — Whether any 
 oy-interests of these professions have occasioned this, I will 
 not here examine ; but I leave it to be considered wiiether 
 it would not be well for mankind, whose concernment it is 
 to know things as they are, and to do what they ought, and 
 not to spend their lives in talking about them, or tossing 
 words to and fro; whether it would not be well, I say, that 
 the use of words were made plain and direct, and that lan- 
 guage which was given us for the improvement of knowledge 
 and bond of society, should not be employed to darken truth
 
 CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. 101 
 
 and unsettle people's rights, to raise mists and roiuler un- 
 intelligible both morality and religion? or that at h^ast, if 
 this will happen, it should not be thought learning or know- 
 ledge to do so? 
 
 14. IV. Taking them for Things. — Fourthly, Another 
 gieat abuse of words is, the taking them for things. This, 
 though it in some degree concerns all names in general, yet 
 more particularly affects those of substances. To this abuse 
 those men are most subject who most confine their thoughts 
 to any one system, and give themselves up into a firm belief 
 of the perfection of any received hyjiothesis; whereby they 
 come to be persuaded that the terms of that sect are so suited 
 to the natui'e of things, that they perfectly correspond with 
 their real existence. Who is there that has been bred up 
 in the Peripatetic philosophy, who does not think the ten 
 names, under which are ranked the ten predicaments, to be 
 exactly conformable to the nature of things? Who is there 
 of that school that is not persuaded that substantial forms, 
 vegetative souls, abhorrence of a vacuum, intentional sj)ecies, 
 &;a, are something real? These words men have learned 
 from their very entrance upon knowledge, and have found 
 their masters and systems lay great stress upon them; and 
 therefore they cannot quit the opinion, that they are con- 
 formable to nature, and are the re^jresentations of something 
 that really exists. The Platonists have their soid of the 
 world,* and the Epicureans their endeavour towards motion 
 in their atoms, when at rest. There is scarce any sect in 
 philosophy has not a distinct set of terms that others un- 
 derstand not; but yet tliis gibberish, which, in the weakness 
 of human understanding, serves so well to palhate men's ig- 
 norance and cover their errors, comes, by familiar use amongst 
 those of the same tribe, to seem the most important part of 
 language, and of all other, the terms the most significant; 
 and should aerial and ajtherial vehicles C(Mne once, by the 
 prevalency of that doctrine, to be generally received any- 
 where, no doubt those terms would make impressions on 
 men's minds, so as to establish them in the persuasion of the 
 reality of such things, as much as Peripatetic ibrms and 
 intentional species have heretofore done. 
 
 15. Instance, in Matter. — How much names taken for 
 
 * See Tennemann's History of Philosophy, § 135 ; and Lipsius Physio- 
 logia ytoicorum, 1. 7, diss. 7, 8. — Ed.
 
 102 OF HUMAJ^ UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 tilings are aj^t to mislead the understanding, the attentive 
 reading of philosojjhical writers would abundantly discover; 
 and that, perhaps, in words little susjiected of any such mis- 
 use. I shall instance in one only, and that a very familiar 
 one: how many intricate disputes have there been about 
 matter, as if there were some such thing really in nature, 
 distinct from body, as it is evident the word matter stands 
 for an idea distinct from the idea of body? For if the ideas 
 these two terms stood for were precisely the same, they might 
 indifferently, in all places, be put for one another. But we 
 see, that, though it be proper to say there is one matter of 
 all bodies, one cannot say there is one body of all matters : 
 we familiarly say one body is bigger than another; but it 
 soimds harsh (and I think is never used) to say one matter 
 is bigger than another. Whence comes this, then 1 viz., from 
 hence : that, though matter and body be not really distinct, 
 but wherever there is the one there is the other; yet matter 
 and body stand for two different conceptions, whereof the 
 one is incomjilete, and but a part of the other. For body 
 stands for a solid extended figured substance, whereof matter 
 is but a partial and more confused conception; it seeming 
 to me to be used for the substance and solidity of body, 
 without taking in its extension and figure; and therefore 
 it is, that, .speaking of matter, we speak of it always as one, 
 because in truth it expressly contains nothing but the idea 
 of a solid substance, which is everywhere the same, every- 
 where uniform. This being our idea of mattei', we no more 
 conceive or speak of difierent matters in the world than we 
 > do of different solidities ; though we both conceive and speak 
 of different bodies, because extension and figure ai'e capable 
 of variation. But since solidity cannot exist without ex- 
 tension and figui'e, the taking matter to be the name of 
 something really existing under that precision, has no doubt 
 produced those obscure and unintelligible discourses and 
 disputes, which have filled the heads and books of philoso- 
 phers concerning materia prima;* which imjjerfection or 
 
 * Among the numljer of these great philosophers was Hudibras, if we 
 may rely upon that sage chronicler who celebrates his deeds: — 
 
 ' ' As he professed, 
 He had first matter seen undressed ; 
 He took her naked, all alone, 
 Before one rag of form was on." — Ed.
 
 CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. 103 
 
 abuse, how far it may concern a great many other general 
 terms I leave to be considered. This, I think, I may at 
 least say, that we should have a great many fewer disjmtes 
 in the world if words were taken for what they are, the 
 signs of our ideas only, and not for things themselves. For 
 "when we argue about matter or any the like term, we truly 
 argue only about the idea we express by that sound, whether 
 that precise idea agree to anything really existing in nature 
 or no. And if men would tell what ideas they make their 
 Words stand for, there could not be half that obscurity or 
 wrangling in the search or support of truth that there is. 
 
 16. This inakes Errors lasting. — But whatever inconveni- 
 ence follows from this mistake of words, this I am sure, that, 
 by constant and famiUar use they charm men into notions far 
 remote from the truth of things. It would be a hard matter 
 to persuade any one that the words which his father, or 
 schoolmaster, the parson of the parish, or such a reverend 
 doctor used, signified nothing that really existed in nature; 
 which perhaps is none of the least causes that men are so 
 hardly drawn to quit their mistakes, even in opinions purely 
 philosophical, and where they have no other interest but 
 truth. For the words they have a long time been used to, 
 remaining firm in their minds, it is no wonder that the wrong 
 notions annexed to them should not be removed. 
 
 17. V. Setting them for what tJiey cannot signify, — Fifthly, 
 Another abuse of words is, the setting them in the place of 
 things which they do or can by no means signify. We may 
 observe, that, in the general names of su.bstances whereof the 
 nominal essences are only known to us, when we put them 
 into propositions, and affirm or deny anything about them, 
 we do most commonly tacitly suppose or intend they should 
 stand for the real essence of a certain soi-t of substances. 
 For when a man says gold is malleable, he means and would 
 insinuate something more than this, that what I call gold 
 is malleable, (though truly it amounts to no more,) but would 
 have this understood, viz., that gold, i. e., what has the real 
 essence of gold, is malleable; which amounts to thus much, 
 that malleableness depends on, and is inseparable from the 
 real essence of gold. But a man not knowing wherein that 
 real essence consists, the connexion in his mind of malleable- 
 ness is not truly with an essence he knows not, but only
 
 104 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 with the sound gold he puts for it. Thus, when we say that 
 "animal rationale" is, and " animal implume bipes latis un- 
 guibus" is not a good definition of a man ; it is plain we 
 suppose the name man in this case to stand for the real 
 essence of a species, and would signify that a rational ammal 
 better described that real essence than a two-legged animal 
 with broad nails, and without feathers. For else, why might 
 not Plato as j^roperly make the word dvOptoTrog, or man, 
 stand for his complex idea, made up of the idea of a body, 
 distinguished from others by a certain shape and other out- 
 ward appearances, as Aristotle make the complex idea to 
 which he gave the name dvOpw-n-og, or man, of body and the 
 faculty of reasoning joined together; unless the name dvOpoj-n-oe,- 
 or man, were supposed to stand for something else than what 
 it signifies, and to be put in the place of some other thing 
 than the idea a man professes he would express by it] 
 
 18. V. g., Putting thein for tlie real Essences of Substances. 
 — It is true the names of substances would be much more 
 useful, and propositions made in them much more certain, 
 were the real essences of substances the ideas in our minds 
 which those words signified. And it is for want of those 
 real essences that our words convey so little knowledge or 
 certainty in our discourses about them ; and therefore the 
 mind, to remove that imperfection as much as it can, makes 
 them, by a secret supposition, to stand for a thing having 
 that real essence, as if thereby it made some nearer approaches 
 to it. For though the word man or gold signify nothing 
 truly but a complex idea of projaerties united together in 
 ,one sort of substances ; yet there is scarce anybody, in the 
 use of these words, but often supposes each of those names 
 to stand for a thing having the real essence on which these 
 properties depend. Which is so far from diminishing the 
 imperfection of our words, that by a plain abuse it adds to 
 it, when we would make them stand for something, which, 
 not being in our complex idea, the name we use can no ways, 
 be the sign of. 
 
 19. Hence we think every Change of owr Idea in Substances 
 not to change the Species. — This shows us the reason why in 
 mixed modes any of the ideas that make the composition of 
 the complex one, being left out or changed, it is allowed to 
 be another thing, i. e., to be of another species, it is plain iu
 
 CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. 105 
 
 chance-medley, mauslaughter, murder, parricide, &,c. The 
 reason whereof is, because the complex idea signified by that 
 name is the real as well as nominal essence; and there is no 
 secret reference of that name to any other essence but that. 
 But in substances, it is not so; for though in that called 
 gold, one puts into his complex idea what another leaves out, 
 and vice vei-sa; yet men do not usually think that therefore 
 the species is changed; because they secretly in their minds 
 refer that name, and suppose it annexed to a real immutable 
 essence of a thing existing, on which those properties depend. 
 He that adds to his complex idea of gold that of fixedness 
 and solubility in aq. regia, which he put not in it before, is 
 not thought to have changed the species, but only to have a 
 more perfect idea, by adding another simple idea, which is 
 always in fact joined with those other, of which his former 
 complex idea consisted. But this reference of the name to a 
 thing whereof we had not the idea is so far from helping at 
 all, that it only serves the more to involve us in difficulties; 
 for by this tacit reference to the real essence of that species 
 of bodies, the word gold (which, by standing for a more or 
 less perfect collection of simple ideas, seiwes to design that 
 sort of body well enough in civil discourse) comes to have 
 no signification at all, being put for somewhat whereof we 
 have no idea at all, and so can signify nothing at all, when 
 the body itself is away. For however it may be thought 
 all one, yet, if well considered, it will be found a quite dif- 
 ferent thing to argue about gold in name, and about a parcel 
 in the body itself, v. g., a piece of leaf-gold laid before us, 
 though in discourse we are fain to substitute the name for 
 the thing. 
 
 20. 2^/te Cause of tJie Abuse, a Supposition of Nature's 
 working always regularly. — That which I think very much 
 disjjoses men to substitute their names for the real essences 
 of species, is the supposition before mentioned, that nature 
 works regularly in the production of things, and sets the 
 boundaries to each of those species, by giving exactly the 
 same real internal constitution to each individual which we 
 rank under one general name. Whereas any one who ob- 
 serves their different qualities can hardly doubt, that many 
 of the individuals called by the same name are, in their 
 internal constitution, as diflferent one from another as several
 
 106 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 of those which are ranked under different specific names. 
 This supposition, however, that the same precise and internal 
 constitution goes always with the same specific name, makes 
 men forward to take those names for the representativjjs of 
 those real essences, though indeed they signify nothing but 
 the complex ideas they have in their minds when they use 
 them. So that, if I may so say, signifying one thing, and 
 being supposed for, or put in the place of another, they 
 cannot but, in such a kind of use, cause a great deal of un- 
 certainty in men's discoui'sesj especially in those who have 
 thoroughly imbibed the doctrine of substantial forms, whereby 
 they firmly imagine the several species of things to be 
 determined and distinguished. 
 
 21. This Abuse contains two false Suppositions. — But how- 
 ever preposterous and absurd it be to make our names stand 
 for ideas we have not, or (which is all one) essences that we 
 know not, it being in effect to make our words the signs of 
 nothing ; yet it is evident to any one who ever so little re- 
 flects on the use men make of their words, that there is 
 nothing more familiar. When a man asks whether this or 
 that thing he sees, let it be a drill, or a monstrous foetus, be 
 a man or no ; it is evident the question is not whether that 
 particular thing agree to his complex idea expressed by the 
 name man ; but whether it has in it the real essence of a 
 species of things which he supposes his name man to stand 
 for. In which way of using the names of substances, there 
 are these false suppositions contained : — 
 
 First, that there are certain precise essences according to 
 which nature makes all particular things, and by which they 
 are distinguished into species. That everything has a real 
 constitution, whereby it is what it is, and on which its sen- 
 sible qualities depend, is past doubt; but I think it has been 
 proved that this makes not the distinction of species as we 
 i-ank them, nor the boundaries of their names. 
 
 Secondly, this tacitly also insinuates, as if we had ideas of 
 these proposed essences. For to what purpose else is it to 
 inquire whether this or that thing have the real essence of 
 the species man, if we did not suppose that there were such a 
 specific essence known? which yet is utterly false; and there- 
 fore, such application of names as would make them stand 
 for ideas which we have not, must needs cause great disorder
 
 CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. 107 
 
 in discourses and reasonings about them, and be a great 
 inconvenience in our communication by words. 
 
 22. VI. A siipposUi'in tiud Words have a certain and evi- 
 dent Signification. — Sixthly, there remains yet another more 
 general, though perhaps less observed abuse of words; and 
 that is, that men having by a long and familiar use annexed 
 to them certain ideas, they are apt to imagine so near and 
 necessary a connexion between the names and the significa- 
 tion they use them in, that they forwardly suppose one 
 cannot but understand what their meaning is; and therefore 
 cue ought to acquiesce in the words delivered, as if it were 
 past doubt that, in the use of those common x-eceived sounds, 
 the speaker and hearer had necessarily the same precise ideas. 
 Whence presuming, that when they have in discourse used 
 any term, they have thereby, as it were, set before others the 
 very thing they talked of ; and so likewise taking the words 
 of others, as naturally standing for just what they them- 
 selves have been accustomed to apply them to, they never 
 trouble themselves to explain their own, or miderstand 
 clearly others' meaning. From whence commonly proceed 
 noise and wrangling, without improvement or inlbrmation; 
 whilst men take words to be the constant regular marks of 
 agreed notions, which in tnith ax-e no more but the voluntary 
 and unsteady signs of their own ideas. And yet men think 
 it strange, if in discourse or (where it is often absolutely 
 necessary) in dispute, one sometimes asks the meaning of 
 their terms; though the arguings one may every day observe 
 in conversation make it evident that there are few names of 
 complex ideas which any two men use for the same just 
 precise collection. It is hard to name a word which will not 
 be a clear instance of this. Life is a term, none more 
 familiar; any one almost would take it for an affront to be 
 asked what he meant by it. And yet if it comes in question, 
 whether a plant that lies ready formed in the seed have life; 
 whether the embryo in an egg before incubation, or a man 
 in a swoon without sense or motion, be alive or no; it is 
 easy to perceive that a clear, distinct, settled idea does not 
 always accompany the use of so known a word as that of life 
 is. Some gross and confused conceptions men indeed ordi- 
 narily have, to which they apply the common words of their 
 language; and such a loose use of their words serves them 
 well enough in their ordinary discourses or aflfairs. But
 
 108 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAKDING, [bOOK III. 
 
 this is not sufficient for philosojihical inquiries; knowledge 
 and reasoning require precise determinate ideas. And 
 though men will not be so importunately dull, as not to 
 understand what others say without demanding an explica- 
 tion of their tei'ms, nor so troublesomely critical as to correct 
 others in the use of the words they receive from them ; yet, 
 where truth and knowledge are concerned in the case, I 
 know not what fault it can be to desire the explication of 
 words whose sense seems dubious; or why a man should be 
 ashamed to own his ignorance in what sense another man 
 uses his words, since he has no other way of certainly know- 
 ing it but by being informed. This abuse of taking words 
 upon trust has nowhere spi'ead so far, nor with so ill effiscts, 
 as amongst men of letters. The multiplication and obstinacy 
 of disputes which have so laid waste the intellectual world, 
 is owing to nothing more than to this ill use of words. For 
 though it be generally believed that there is great diversity 
 of opinions in the volumes and variety of controversies the 
 world is distracted with, yet the most I can find that the 
 contending learned men of different parties do, in their 
 arguings one with another, is, that they speak different lan- 
 guages. For I am apt to imagine that when any of them, 
 quitting terms, think upon things, and know what they 
 think, they think all the same, though perhaps what they 
 would have be different. 
 
 23. Tlie Ends of Language: First, To convey our Ideas. — 
 To conclude this consideration of the imperfection and abuse 
 of language; the ends of language in our discourse with 
 others being chiefly these three : fii-st, to make known one 
 man's thoughts or ideas to another ; secondly, to do it 
 with as much ease and quickness as possible; and, thirdly, 
 thereby to convey the knowledge of things : language is 
 either abused or deficient, when it fails of any of these 
 three. 
 
 First, Words fail in the first of these ends, and lay not 
 open one man's ideas to another's view : 1. "VYhen men have 
 names in their mouths without any determinate ideas in 
 their minds, whereof they are the signs ; or, 2. "When they 
 apply the common received names of any language to ideas, 
 to which the common use of that language does not apply 
 them ; or, 3. When they apply them very unsteadily, making 
 them stand, now for one, and by and by for another idea.
 
 CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. lOD 
 
 24. Secmidly, To do it icith Quickness. — Secondly, Men 
 fail of conveying their thoughts with all the quickness and 
 ease that may be, when they have complex ideas without 
 having any distinct names foi- them. This is sometimes the 
 fault of the language itself, which has not in it a sound yet 
 applied to such a signification ; and sometimes the fault of 
 the man, who has not yet learned the name for that idea he 
 would show another. 
 
 25. Thirdly, Thereioith to convey the Knowledge of Tilings. 
 — Thirdly, There is no knowledge of things conveyed by 
 men's words, when their ideas agree not to the reality of 
 things. Though it be a defect that has its original in our 
 ideas, which are not so conformable to the nature of things 
 as attention, study, and application might make them, yet it 
 fails not to extend itself to our words too, when we use them 
 as signs of real beings, which yet never had any reality or 
 existence. 
 
 2Q. How Mens Words fail in all these. — First, He that 
 hath words of any language, without distinct ideas in his 
 mind to which he applies them, does so far as he uses them 
 in discourse, only make a noise without any sense or significa- 
 tion ; and how learned soever he may seem by the use of 
 hard words or learned terms, is not much more advanced 
 thereby in knowledge, than he would be in learning, who had 
 nothing in his study but the bare titles of books, withoi.it 
 possessing the contents of them. For all such words, how- 
 ever put into discourse, according to the right construction 
 of grammatical rules, or the harmony of well-turned periods, 
 do yet amount to nothing but bare sounds, and nothing 
 else. 
 
 27. Secondly, He that has complex ideas, without par- 
 ticular names for them, would be in no better case than a 
 bookseller who had in his warehouse volumes that lay there 
 unbound, and without titles, which he could therefore make 
 known to others only by showing the loose sheets, and com- 
 municate them only by tale. This man is hindered in his 
 discourse for want of words to communicate his complex 
 ideas, which he is therefore forced to make known by an 
 enumeration of the simple ones that compose them ; and ao 
 is fain often to use twenty woi'ds to express what another 
 man signifies in one.
 
 110 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 28. Thirdly, He that puts not constantly the same sign for 
 the same idea, but uses the same words sometimes in one and 
 sometimes in another signification, ought to pass in the 
 schools and conversation for as fair a man, as he does in the 
 market and exchange, who sells several things under the 
 same name. 
 
 29. Fourthly, He that apj^lies the words of any language 
 to ideas different from those to which the common use of 
 that country apjilies them, however his own understanding 
 may be filled with truth and light, will not by such words be 
 able to convey much of it to others, without defining his 
 terms. For however the sounds are such as are familiarly 
 known, and easily enter the ears of those who are accustomed 
 to them ; yet standing for other ideas than those they usually 
 are annexed to, and are wont to excite in the mind of the 
 hearers, they cannot make known the thoughts of him who 
 thus uses them. 
 
 30. Fifthly, He that imagined to himself substances such 
 as never have been, and filled his head with ideas which have 
 not any correspondence with the real nature of things, to 
 which yet he gives settled and defined names, may fill his 
 discourse, and perhaj^s another man's head, with the fantas- 
 tical imaginations of his own brain, but will be very far from 
 advancing thereby one jot in real and true knowledge. 
 
 31. He that hath names without ideas, wants meaning in 
 his words, and speaks only empty sounds. He that hath 
 complex ideas without names for them, wants liberty and 
 dispatch in his expressions, and is necessitated to use peri- 
 phrases. He that uses his words loosely and unsteadily will 
 
 ■ either be not minded or not understood. He that apjilies his 
 names to ideas difierent from their common use, wants pro- 
 priety in his language, and speaks gibberish. And he that 
 hath the ideas of substances disagreeing with the real exist- 
 ence of things, so far wants the materials of true knowledge 
 in his understanding, and hath instead thereof chimeras. 
 
 32. How in Substmices. — In our notions concerning sub- 
 stances, we are liable to all the former inconveniences ; v. g., 
 he that uses the word tarantula, without having any ima- 
 gination or idea of what it stands for, pronounces a good 
 word ; but so long means nothing at all by it. 2. He that 
 in a new-discovered country shall see several sorts of animals
 
 CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WOKDS. 1 1 1 
 
 and vegetables unknown to him before, may have as true 
 ideas of them, as of a horse or a stag ; but can speak of them 
 only by a description, till he shall either take the names the 
 natives call them by, or give them names himseli' 3. He 
 that uses the word body sometimes for j^nre extension, and 
 sometimes for extension and solidity together, will talk very 
 fallaciously. 4. He that gives the name horse to that idea 
 which common usage calls mule, talks improperly, and will 
 not be understood. 5. He that thinks the name centaur 
 stands for some real being, imposes on himself, and mistakes 
 ■words for things, 
 
 33. How in Modes and Rdallons. — In modes and rela- 
 tions generally, we are liable only to the four first of these 
 inconveniences ; viz. 1. I may have in my memory the names 
 of modes, as gi-atitude or charity, and yet not have any pre- 
 cise ideas annexed in my thouglits to those names. 2. I may 
 have ideas, and not know the names that belong to them ; 
 V. g., I may have the idea of a man's drinking till his colour 
 and humour be altered, till his tongue trips, and his eyes 
 look red, and his feet fail him ; and yet not know that it is 
 to be called drunkenness. 3, I may have the ideas of virtues 
 or vices, and names also, but apply them amiss ; v. g., when I 
 apply the name frugality to that idea which others call and 
 signify by this sound, covetousness. 4. I may use any of 
 those names with inconstancy. 5. But, in modes an(^ rela- 
 tions, I cannot have ideas disagreeing to the existence of 
 things ; for modes beiag complex ideas, made by the mind at 
 pleasure, and relation being but by way of considering or 
 comparing two things together, and so also an idea of my 
 own making, these ideas can scarce be found to disagree with 
 anything existing, since they are not in the mind as the 
 copies of things regularly made by nature, nor as properties 
 inseparably flowing from the internal constitution or essence 
 of any substance ; but as it were patterns lodged in my 
 memory, with names annexed to them, to denominate actions 
 and relations by, as they come to exist. But the mistake is 
 commonly in my giving a wrong name to my concejitions ; 
 and so using words in a difierent sense from other people ; 
 I am not understood, but am thought to have wrong ideas of 
 them, when I give wrong names to them. Only if I put in 
 my ideas of mixed modes or relations any inconsistent ideas
 
 112 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, [bOOK III. 
 
 together, I fill my head also with chimeras ; since such ideas, 
 if well examined, cannot so much as exist in the mind, much 
 less any real being ever be denominated from them. 
 
 34. VII. Figurative Speech also and Abase of Language. — 
 Since wit and fancy find easier entertainment in the world 
 than dry truth and real knowledge, figurative speeches and al- 
 lusion in language will hardly be admitted as an imperfection 
 or abuse of it. I confess in discourses where we seek rather 
 pleasure and delight than information and improvement, 
 such ornaments as are borrowed from them can scarce pass 
 for faults. But yet if we would sj)eak of things as they are, 
 we must allow that all the art of rhetoric, besides order and 
 clearness, all the artificial and figurative apj^lication of words 
 eloquence hath invented, are for nothing else but to insinuate 
 wi'ong ideas, move tiie passions, and thereby mislead the 
 judgment, and so indeed are perfect cheats j and therefore, 
 however laudable or allowable oratory may render them in 
 harangues and popular addresses, they are certainly, in all 
 discourses that pretend to inform or instruct, wholly to be 
 avoided ; and where truth and knowledge are concerned, 
 cannot but be thought a great fault, either of the language 
 or person that makes use of them. What and how various 
 they are, will be superfluous here to take notice : the books 
 of rhetoric which aboimd in the world, will instruct those 
 who want to be informed ; only I cannot but observe how 
 little the preservation and improvement of truth and know- 
 ledge is the care and concern of mankind ; since the arts of 
 fallacy are endowed and preferred. It is evident how much 
 men love to deceive and be deceived, since rhetoric, that 
 powerful instnunent of error and deceit, has its established 
 professors, is publicly taught, and has always been had in 
 great reputation : and I doubt not but it will be thought 
 gi-eat boldness, if not brutality in me, to have said thus much 
 against it. Eloquence, like the fair sex, has too prevailing 
 beauties in it to sufiier itself ever to be spoken against ; and 
 it is in vain to find fault with those arts of deceiving, wherein 
 men find pleasure to be deceived.* 
 
 * The notions which Locke here puts forward on the subject of rhe- 
 toric, and an ornate and figurative style, are as inconsistent with his own 
 practice as they are with true philosophy. He himself constantly, both 
 throughout this and eveiy other of his works, makes use of a profusion
 
 CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OF WORDS. 113 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OF THE REMEDIES OF THE FOREGOING IMPERFECTIONS 
 AND ABUSES. 
 
 1. They are worth seeking . — The natural and improved 
 imperfections of languages we have seen above at large; and 
 
 of tropes and figures ; nor, as will be evident to the reader, is his mean- 
 ing thereby at all darkened, but placed in a broader, clearer, and more 
 perfect light. It is, in fact, nearly impossible to convey truth from one 
 mind to another without the abundant employment of metaphors ; and 
 the art of rhetoric, though it may sometimes be used to adorn and recom- 
 mend falsehood, is no more to be rejected by truth on that account, than 
 dress is to be laid aside by modest women because it also worn by cour- 
 tezans. Plato, as is well known, has put forward on this subject crotchets 
 similar to Locke's ; and it is not at all improl^ible that the English 
 philosopher may have been seduced into this diatribe against rhetoric by 
 the eloquent and rhetorical master of the academy, who attempted to 
 storm the citadel of eloquence with instruments supplied out of its own 
 armoury. But if authority might be allowed any weight in this matter, 
 I would venture to oppose to that of Plato and Locke, the deliberate 
 conviction of Peter Melancthou, who, besides studying profoundly for 
 his own use the ai-t of rhetoric, composed for the service of others, a 
 brief but admirable introduction to the larger works of Aristotle, Quin- 
 tUlian, and Cicero ; and in the Epistola Nuncupatoria, addressed to the 
 brothers Reifenstein, says : ' ' Quanquam autem ipsa praecepta rhetorices 
 levia et perquam puerilia videntur, tamen hoc sibi persuadeant ado- 
 lescentes, et ad judicandum, et ad maximas caussas explicandas prorsus 
 ea necessaria esse. Quare etiam adhortandi sunt ne his nostris libeUis 
 immorentur : sed cognitis his dementis, Ciceronem et Quintilianum legat 
 nee degustent obiter, sed diu multumque legant auctores illos, non solum 
 ad eloquentiam, sed etiam ad sapientiam profuturos, et discant ex eis 
 eloquentiam metiri magnitudine sua. Videmus enim vulgo quosdam 
 sciolos esse, qui somniat se in arce eloquentise sedere, postquam didice- 
 runt epistolium scribere octo aut decern versuum, in quo duo aut tria 
 insint hemistrlchia aut proverbia, quasi emblemata. Hjec opinio juveni- 
 bus eximenda est, et ostendendum quibus in rebus eloquentia domiuetur 
 quod videlicet necessaria sit ad maximas ac difficillimas caussas omnes, in 
 hac tota civUi consuetudine vitae explicandas, ad retinendas religiones, ad 
 interpretandas ac defendendas leges, ad exercenda judicia, et consilium 
 dandum reipublicse in maximis periculis diligenter et hoc monendi sunt 
 studiosi, rem unam esse omnium humanorum operum longe difficiUima, 
 bene dicere. Etenim qui magnitudinem eloquentise et rei difficultatem 
 considerabit intelliget expetenti banc laudem, acerrimum studium omnium 
 maximanim artium adhibendum esse, et statuet ad magnarum et diffi- 
 cilium causarum tractationem in Ecclesia, et in Eepublica, non tantuin 
 hos rhetoricos libellos, sed perfectam doctrinam et magnam facultatem, 
 longam exercitationem domesticam, et acerrimum judicium afferendum 
 esse." (Edit. Antwerpias, 1573.) An example of Locke's own practice 
 occurs in § 5 of the next chapter, where he speaks of "language being 
 the great conduit whereby men convey their discoveries," etc. 
 VOL. II. I
 
 114 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 speecli being the great bond that holds society together, and 
 the common conduit whereby the improvements of know- 
 ledge are conveyed from one man and one generation to 
 another, it would well deserve our most serious thoughts to 
 consider what remedies are to be found for the incon- 
 veniences above mentioned. 
 
 2. Are not easy. — I am not so vain as to think that any 
 one can pretend to attempt the perfect reforming the lan- 
 guages of the world, no, not so much as of his own country, 
 without rendering himself ridiculous. To require that men 
 should use their words constantly in the same sense, and for 
 none but determined and uniform ideas, would be to think 
 that all men should have the same notions, and should talk 
 of nothing but what they have clear and distinct ideas of; 
 which is not to be expected by any one who hath not 
 vanity enough to imagine he can prevail with men to be very 
 knowing or very silent. And he must be very little skilled 
 in the world, who thinks that a voluble tongue shall accom- 
 pany only a good understanding ; or that men's talking much 
 or little should hold proportion only to their knowledge. 
 
 3. But yet necessary to Philosophy. — But though the market 
 and exchange must be left to their own ways of talking, and 
 gossipiugs not be robbed of their ancient privilege ; though 
 the schools and men of argument would perhaps take it 
 amiss to have anything offered to abate the length or lessen 
 the number of their disputes ; yet methinks those who pre- 
 tend seriously to search after or maintain ti-uth, should think 
 themselves obliged to study how they might deliver them- 
 selves without obscurity, doubtfidness, or equivocation, to 
 which men's words are naturally liable, if care be not taken. 
 
 4. Misuse of Words the great Cause of Errors. — For he that 
 shall well consider the errors and obscurity, the mistakes and 
 confusion, that are spread in the world by an ill use of 
 words, will find some reason to doubt whether language, as 
 it has been employed, has contributed more to the improve- 
 ment or hindrance of knowledge amongst mankind. How 
 many are thei'e, that, when they would think on things, fix 
 their thoughts only on words, especially when they would 
 apply theu" minds to moral matters : and who then can 
 wonder, if the result of such contemplations and reasonings, 
 about little more than sounds, whilst the ideas they annex
 
 CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OF WORDS. 115 
 
 to them are very confused and very unsteady, or perhaps 
 none at all; who can wonder, I say, that such thoughts and 
 reasonings end in nothing but obscurity and mistake, with- 
 out any clear judgment or knowledge? 
 
 5. Obstinacy. — This inconvenience in an ill use of words 
 men suffer in their own private meditations; but much more 
 manifest are the disorders which follow from it in conversa- 
 tion, discourse, and arguiugs with others. For language 
 being the great conduit whereby men convey their disco- 
 veries, reasonings, and knowledge, from one to another; he 
 that makes an ill use of it, though he does not corrupt the 
 fountains of knowledge, which are in things themselves ; yet 
 he does as much as in him lies, break or stop the pipes 
 whereby it is distributed to the public use and advantage of 
 mankind. He that uses words without any clear and steady 
 meaning, what does he but lead himself and others into 
 errors? And he that designedly does it, ought to be looked 
 on as an enemy to truth and knowledge. And yet who can 
 wonder that all the sciences and parts of knowledge have 
 been so overcharged with obscure and equivocal terms, and 
 insignificant and doubtful expressions, caj)able to make the 
 most attentive or quick-sighted very Little or not at all the 
 more knowing or orthodox? since subtilty, in those who 
 make profession to teach or defend truth, hath passed so 
 much for a vii'tue; a virtue, indeed, which, consisting for 
 the most part in nothing but the fallacious and illusory use 
 of obscure or deceitful terms, is only fit to make men more 
 conceited in their ignorance and more obstinate in their 
 errore. 
 
 6. And Wrangling. — Let us look into the books of con- 
 troversy of any kind, there we shall see that the effect of 
 obscure, unsteady, or equivocal terms, is nothing but noise 
 and wrangling about sounds, without convincing or bettering 
 a man's understanding. For if the idea be not agreed on 
 betmxt the speaker and hearer, for Avhich the words stand, 
 the argument is not about things, but names. As often as 
 such a word, whose signification is not ascertained betwixt 
 them, comes in use, their understandings have no other 
 object whereia they agree, but barely the sound; the things 
 that they think on at that time, as expressed by that word, 
 being quite different. 
 
 i2
 
 116 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 7. Instance, Bat o/nd Bird. — Whether a bat be a bird or 
 no, is not a question ; whether a bat be another thing than 
 indeed it is, or have other qualities than indeed it has, for 
 that would be extremely absurd to doubt of: but the 
 question is, 1. Either between those that acknowledged 
 themselves to have but imperfect ideas of one or both of 
 this sort of things, for which these names are supposed to 
 stand; and then it is a real inquiry concerning the name of 
 a bird or a bat, to make theii* yet imperfect ideas of it more 
 complete, by examining whether all the simple ideas to 
 which, combined together, they both give the name bird, be all 
 to be found in a bat : but this is a question only of inquirers 
 (not disputers) who neither affirm nor deny, but examine. 
 Or, 2. It is a question between disputants, whereof the one 
 affirms and the other denies that a bat is a bird; and then 
 the question is barely about the signification of one or both 
 these words ; in that they not having both the same com- 
 plex ideas to which they give these two names, one holds 
 and the other denies, that these two names may be affirmed 
 one of another. Were they agreed in the signification of 
 these two names, it were impossible they should dispute 
 about them ; for they would presently and clearly see (were 
 that adjusted between them) whether all the simple ideas of 
 the more general name bird were found in the complex idea 
 of a bat or no; and so there coidd be no doubt whether a 
 bat were a bird or no. And here I desire it may be con- 
 sidered, and carefully examined, whether the greatest part 
 of the disputes in the world are not merely verbal, and 
 about the signification of words; and whether, if the terms 
 they are made in were defined, and reduced in their signi- 
 fication (as they must be where they signify anything) to 
 determined collections of the simple ideas they do or should 
 stand for, those disputes would not end of themselves, and 
 immediately vanish. I leave it, then, to be considered what 
 the learning of disputation is, and how well they are em- 
 ployed for the advantage of themselves or others, whose 
 business is only the vain ostentation of sounds ; i. e., those 
 who spend their lives in disputes and controversies. When 
 I shall see any of those combatants strip all his terms of 
 ambiguity and obscurity, (which every one may do in the 
 words he uses himself,) I shall think him a champion for
 
 CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OF WORDS. 117 
 
 knowledge, truth, and peace, and not the slave of vain- 
 glory, ambition, or a party. 
 
 8. To remedy the defects of speech before mentioned to 
 some degi'ee, and to prevent the inconveniences that follow 
 from them, I imagine the observation of these following 
 rules may be of use, till somebody better able shall judge it 
 •woilh his while to think more maturely on this matter, and 
 oblige the world with his thoughts on it. 
 
 First, Remedy ; to use no Word without an Idea. — First, 
 man shall take care to use no word without a signification, 
 no name without an idea for which he makes it stand. This 
 rule will not seem altogether needless to any one who shall 
 take the pains to recollect how often he has met with such 
 words as instinct, sympathy, and antipathy, &c., in the dis- 
 coui"se of others, so made use of, as he might easily conclude 
 tliat those that used them had no ideas in their minds to 
 which they applied them, but spoke them only as sounds, 
 which usually served instead of reasons on the like occasions. 
 Not but that these words and the like have very proper 
 significations in which they may be used ; but there being 
 no natural connexion between any words and any ideas, 
 these and any other may be learned by rote, and pronounced 
 or writ by men who have no ideas in their minds to which 
 they have annexed them, and for which they make them 
 stand; which is necessary they should, if men would speak 
 intelligibly even to themselves alone. 
 
 9. Secondly, To have distinct Ideas annexed to tJiem in 
 Modes. — Secondly, It is not enough a man uses his words 
 as signs of some ideas: those he annexes them to, if they 
 be simple, must be clear and distinct; if complex, must 
 be determinate, i. e., the precise collection of simple ideas 
 settled in the mind, with that sound annexed to it, as the 
 sign of that precise determined collection, and no other. 
 This is very necessary in names of modes, and especially 
 moral words; which, having no settled objects in nature, 
 from whence their ideas are taken, as from their original, 
 are apt to be very confused. Justice is a word in every 
 man's mouth, but most commonly with a very undeter- 
 mined, loose signification; which will always be so, imless 
 a man has in his mind a distinct comprehension of the 
 component parts that complex idea consists of: and if it
 
 118 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 be decompoTinded, must be able to resolve it still on, till he 
 at last comes to the simple ideas that make it up: and 
 unless this be done, a man makes an ill use of the word, let 
 it be justice, for example, or any other. I do not say, a 
 man need stand to recollect and make this analysis at large 
 every time the word justice comes in his way; but this at 
 least is necessary, that he have so examined the signification 
 of that name, and settled the idea of all its parts in his 
 mind, that he can do it when he pleases. If any one who 
 makes his complex idea of justice to be such a treatment of 
 the person or goods of another as is according to law, hath 
 not a clear and distinct idea what law is, which makes a 
 part of his complex idea of justice, it is plain his idea of 
 justice itself will be confused and imperfect. This exactness 
 will, pei-haps, be judged very troublesome, and therefore most 
 men will think they may be excused from settling the 
 complex ideas of mixed modes so precisely in their minds. 
 But yet I must say, till this be done, it must not be won- 
 dered that they have a great deal of obscurity and confusion 
 in their own minds, and a great deal of wrangling in their 
 discourse with others. 
 
 10. And distinct and conformable in Substances. — In the 
 names of substances, for a right use of them, something 
 more is required than barely determined ideas. In these 
 the names must also be conformable to things as they exist ; 
 but of this I shall have occasion to speak more at large by 
 and by. This exactness is absolutely necessary in inquiries 
 after philosophical knowledge, and in controversies about 
 
 ,truth. And though it would be well, too, if it extended 
 itself to common conversation and the ordinary affairs of 
 life; yet I think that is scarce to be expected. Vulgar 
 notions suit vulgar discourses; and both, though confused 
 enough, yet serve pretty well the market and the wake. 
 Merchants and lovers, cooks and tailors, have words where- 
 withal to dispatch their ordinary affairs ; and so, I think, 
 might philosophers and disputants too, if they had a mind 
 to understand, and to be clearly understood. 
 
 11. Thirdly, Pi'op-iety. — ThuxUy, It is not enough that 
 men have ideas, determined ideas, for which they make these 
 signs stand; but they must also take care to apply their 
 words as near as may be to such ideas as common use
 
 CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OF WORDS. 119 
 
 has annexed them to. For words, especially of languages 
 already" framed, being no man's private possession, but the 
 capimon measure of commerce and communication, it is not 
 for any one at pleasure to change the stamp they are current 
 in, nor alter the ideas they are affixed to ; or at least, when 
 there is a necessity to do so, he is bound to give notice of it. 
 Men's intentions in speaking are, or at least should be, to be 
 understood; which cannot be without frequent explanations, 
 demands, and other the like incommodious interi-uptions, 
 where men do not follow common use. Propriety of speech 
 is that which gives our thoughts entrance into other men's 
 minds with the greatest ease and advantage; and therefore 
 deseiwes some part of our care and study, especially in the 
 names of moral words. The proper signification and use of 
 terms is best to be learned from those who in their writings 
 and discourses appear to have had the clearest notions, and 
 applied to them their terms with the exactest choice and 
 fitness. This way of using a man's words, according to the 
 propriety of the language, though it have not always the 
 good fortune to be understood; yet most commonly leaves 
 the blame of it on him who is so unskilful in the languas:e 
 he speaks, as not to undei"stand it when made use of as it 
 ought to be. 
 
 12. Fourthly, To make hnovm their Meaning. — Fourthly, 
 But, because common use has not so visibly annexed any 
 signification to words, as to make men know always cer- 
 tainly what they precisely stand for; and because men in 
 the improvement of their knowledge, come to have ideas 
 different from the vulgar and ordinary received ones, for 
 which they must either make new words, (which men seldom 
 venture to do, for fear of being thought guilty of affectation 
 or novelty,) or else must use old ones in a new signification : 
 therefore after the observation of the foregoing rules, it is 
 sometimes necessary, for the ascertaining the signification of 
 words, to declare their meaning; where either common use 
 has left it uncertain and loose, (as it has in most names of 
 very complex ideas,) or where the term, being very material 
 in the discourse, and that upon which it chiefly turns, is 
 liable to any doubtfulness or mistake. 
 
 13. And that three. Ways. — As the ideas men's woi'ds stand 
 for are of difierent sorts, so the way of making known the
 
 120 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK HI, 
 
 ideas they stand for, when there is occasion, is also different. 
 For though defining be thought the proper way to make 
 known the proper signification of words, yet there are some 
 words that will not be defined, as there are others whose 
 precise meaning cannot be made known but by definition; 
 and perhaps a third, which partake somewhat of both the 
 other, as we shall see in the names of simple ideas, modes, 
 and substances. 
 
 14. I. In si)nj)le Ideas, hy synonymoua Terms, or sTuming. 
 — First, when a man makes use of the name of any simple 
 idea wliich he perceives is not understood, or is in danger to 
 be mistaken, he is obliged by the laws of ingenuity and the 
 end of speech to declare his meaning, and make known what 
 idea he makes it stand for. Tliis, as has been shown, cannot 
 be done by definition; and therefore, when a sjTionymous 
 word fails to do it, there is but one of these ways left : 
 First, sometimes the naming the subject wherein that simple 
 idea is to be found, will make its name to be understood by 
 those who are acquainted with that subject, and know it by 
 that name. So to make a countryman understand what 
 "feuillemorte" colour signifies, it may suflB.ce to tell him it 
 is the colour of withered leaves falling in autumn. Secondly, 
 but the only sure way of making known the signification of 
 the name of any simple idea, is by presenting to his senses 
 that subject wliich may produce it in his mind, and make 
 him actually have the idea that word stands for. 
 
 15. II. In mioced Modes, hy Definition. — Secondly, Mixed 
 modes, especially those belonging to morality, being most of 
 them such combinations of ideas as the mind puts together of 
 
 -its own choice, and whereof there are not always standing 
 patterns to be fomid existing, the signification of their names 
 cannot be made known as those of simple ideas by any show- 
 ing ; but, in recompense thereof, may be perfectly and 
 exactly defined. For they being combinations of several 
 ideas that the miiid of man lias arbitraiily put together, 
 without reference to any archetypes, men may, if they please, 
 exactly know the ideas that go to each composition, and so 
 both use these words in a certain and undoubted significa- 
 tion, and perfectly declare, when there is occasion, what they 
 stand for. Tliis, if well considered, would lay great blame 
 on those who make not their discourses about moral things
 
 CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OF WORDS. 121 
 
 very clear and distinct. For since the precise signification 
 of the names of mixed modes, or, which is all one, the real 
 essence of each species is to be kno^vn, they being not of 
 natiu'e's, but man's making, it is a great negligence and per- 
 verseness to discourse of moral things with uncertainty and 
 obscurity; which is more pardonable in treating of natiiral 
 substances, where doubtful terms are hardly to be avoided, 
 for a quite contrary reason, as wo shall see by and by. 
 
 16. Mrn'olity capable of Demonstration. — Upon this ground 
 it is that I am bold to think that morality is capable of 
 demonstration, as well as mathematics; since the precise real 
 essence of the things moral words stand for may be perfectly 
 known, and so the congruity and inconginiity of the things 
 themselves be certainly discovered, in which consists perfect 
 knowledge. Nor let any one object, that the names of sub- 
 stances are often to be made use of in morality as well 
 as those of modes, from which will arise obscurity. For 
 as to substances, when concerned in moral discourses, their 
 divers natures are not so much inquired into as supposed; 
 V. g., Avhen we say that man is subject to law, we mean 
 nothing by man but a corporeal rational creatui-e ; what 
 the real essence or other qualities of that creatiure are in this 
 case is no way considered. And, therefore, whether a child 
 or changeling be a man in a physical sense, may amongst the 
 naturalists be as disputable as it will, it concerns not at all 
 the moi'al man, as 1 may call him, which is this immovable, 
 unchangeable idea, a corporeal rational being. For were 
 there a monkey or any other creature to be found that has 
 the use of reason to such a degree, as to be able to imder- 
 stand general signs, and to deduce consequences about general 
 ideas, he would no doubt be subject to law, and in that sense 
 be a man, how much soever he differed in shape from others 
 of that name. The names of substances, if they be used in 
 them as they should, can no more distui-b moral than they 
 do mathematical discourses; where, if the mathematician 
 speaks of a cube or globe of gold, or of any other body, he 
 has his clear, settled idea, which varies not, though it may 
 by mistake be applied to a particular body to which it 
 belongs not. 
 
 17. De^nitions can make moral Discourses clear. — This I 
 have here mentioned, by the by, to show of what consequence
 
 122 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 it is for men, in tlieir names of mixed modes, and consequently 
 in all their moral discourses, to define their words when there 
 is occasion ; since thereby moral knowledge may be brought 
 to so great clearness and certainty. And it must be great 
 want of ingenuousness (to say no worse of it) to refuse to do 
 it; since a definition is the only way whereby the precise 
 meaning of moral words can be known; and yet a way 
 whereby their meaning may be known certainly, and without 
 leaving any room for any contest about it. And therefore 
 the negligence or perverseness of mankind cannot be excused, 
 if their discourses in morality be not much more clear than 
 those in natural philosophy; since they are about ideas in 
 the mind, which are none of them false or disproportionate, 
 they having no external beings for the archetypes which they 
 are referred to and must con-espond with. It is far easier 
 for men to frame in then." minds an idea which shall be the 
 standard to which they will give the name justice, with 
 which pattern so made, all actions that agree shall pass under 
 that denomination, than, having seen Aristides, to frame an 
 idea that shall in all things be exactly like him ; who is as 
 he is, let men make what idea they please of him. For the 
 one, they need but know the combination of ideas that are 
 put together in their own minds; for the other, they must 
 inquire into the whole nature, and abstruse hidden con- 
 stitution, and various qualities of a thing existing without 
 them. 
 
 18. And is tlie only Way. — Another reason that makes the 
 defining of mixed modes so necessary, especially of moral 
 words, is what I mentioned a little before, viz., that it is the 
 only way whereby the signification of the most of them can 
 be known with certainty. For the ideas they stand for 
 being for the most part such whose component parts nowhere 
 oxist together, but scattered and mingled with others, it is 
 the mind alone that collects them, and gives them the union 
 of one idea; and it is only by words enumerating the several 
 simple ideas which the mind has imited, that we can make 
 known to others what their names stand for; the assistance 
 of the senses in this case not helping us by the proposal of 
 sensible objects, to show the ideas which our names of this 
 kind stand for, as it does often in the names of sensible simple 
 ideas, and also to some degree in those of substances.
 
 CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OF WORDS. 1 23 
 
 19. III. In Substances, hy showing and defining. — Thirdly, 
 for the explaining the signification of the names of substances, 
 as they stand for the ideas we have of their distinct sjiecios, 
 both the forementioned ways, viz., of showing and defining, 
 are i*equisite in many cases to be made use of. For there 
 being ordinarily in each sort some leading qualities, to wliich 
 we suppose the other ideas which make up our complex idea 
 of that species annexed, we forwardly give the specific name 
 to that thing wherein that characteristical mark is foimd, 
 which we take to be the most distinguishing idea of that 
 species. These leading or characteristical (as I may call 
 them) ideas in the sorts of animals and vegetables are (as has 
 been before remarked, ch. vi. § 29, and ch. ix. § 15) mostly 
 figure; and in inanimate bodies, colour; and in some, both 
 together. Now, 
 
 20, Ideas of tlie leading Qualities of Substances a/re best got 
 by showing. — These leading sensible qualities are those which 
 make the chief ingredients of our specific ideas, and con- 
 sequently the most observable and invariable part in the 
 definitions of our specific names, as attributed to sorts of 
 substances coming under our knowledge. For though the 
 sound man, in its own nature, be as apt to signify a complex 
 idea made u]) of animality and rationality, united in the 
 same subject, as to signify any other combination; yet used 
 as a mark to stand for a sort of creatures we count of our 
 own kind, perhaps, the outward shape is as necessaiy to be 
 taken into our complex idea, signified by the word man, as 
 any other we find in it : and therefore, why Plato's " animal 
 implume bipes latis unguibus" shovdd not be a good defini- 
 tion of the name man, standing for that sort of creatures, 
 will not be easy to show; for it is the shape, as the leading 
 quality, that seems more to determine that species, than a 
 faculty of reasoning, which appears not at first, and in some 
 never. And if this be not allowed to be so, I do not know 
 how they can be excused from murder who kill monstrous 
 births, (as we call them,) because of an unordinary shape, 
 without knowing whether they have a rational soul or no; 
 which can be no more discerned in a well-formed than ill- 
 shaped infant, as soon as bom. And who is it has informed 
 us that a rational soul can inhabit no tenement, unless it 
 has just such a sort of frontispiece; or can join itself to,
 
 124 OF HUMAN UXDERST.^'DIXG. [bOOK III. 
 
 and inform no sort of body but one that is just of such an 
 outward structure? 
 
 2 1 . Now these leading qualities are best made knoA^ai by 
 showing, and can hardly be made known otherwise. For 
 the shape of a horse or cassowary will he but rudely and 
 imperfectly imprinted on the mind by words ; the sight of the 
 animals doth it a thousand times better : and the idea of 
 the particular colour of gold is not to be got by any descrip- 
 tion of it, but only by the frequent exercise of the eyes about 
 it, as is evident in those who are used to this metal, Avho 
 will frequently distinguish true from counterfeit, pure from 
 adulterate, by the sight; where others (who have as good 
 eyes, but yet by use have not got the pi'ecise nice idea of 
 that peculiar yellow) shall not perceive any difference. The 
 like may be said of those other simple ideas, peculiar in their 
 kind to any substance; for which precise ideas there are 
 no peculiar names. The particular ringing sound there is 
 in gold, distinct from the sound of other bodies, has no par- 
 ticular name annexed to it, no more than the particular yel- 
 low that belongs to that metal. 
 
 22. 27ie Ideas of their Powers best known by Definition. — 
 But because many of the simple ideas that make up our 
 specific ideas of substances ai-e powers which lie not obvious 
 to our senses in the things as they ordinarily appear ; there- 
 fore, in the signification of our names of substances, some 
 part of the signification will be better made known by enu- 
 merating those simple ideas, than by showing the substance 
 itself. For he that to the yellow shining colour of gold, 
 got by sight, shall, from my enumerating them, have the 
 ideas of great ductility, fusibility, fixedness, and solubility, 
 in aq. regia, will have a perfecter idea of gold than he can 
 have by seeing a piece of gold, and thereby imprinting in 
 his mind only its obvious qualities. But if the formal con- 
 stitution of this shining, heavy, ductile thing, (from whence 
 all these its properties flow,) lay open to our senses, as the 
 formal constitution or essence of a triangle does, the signifi- 
 cation of the word gold might as easily be ascertained as that 
 of triangle. 
 
 23. A Rejlection on the Knoidedge of Spirits. — Hence we 
 may take notice how much the foundation of all our know- 
 ledge of corporeal things lies in our senses. For how spirits,
 
 CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OF WOIIDS. 125 
 
 separate from bodies, (whose knowledge aud ideas of these 
 things are certainly much more j)erfect than oiu-s,) know 
 them, we have no notion, no idea at all. The whole extent 
 of our knowledge or imagination reaches not beyond our 
 own ideas limited to our ways of perception. Though yet 
 it be not to be doubted that spirits of a higher rank than 
 those immersed in flesh may have as cleai* ideas of the radical 
 constitution of substances as we have of a triangle, and so 
 perceive how all their properties and operations flow from 
 tlience, but the manner how they come by that knowledge 
 exceeds our conceptions. 
 
 24. IV. Ideas also of Suhsta/nces must he conformable to 
 Things. — FouxiJily, But though definitions will serve to ex- 
 jjlain the names of substances as they stand for our ideas, yet 
 they leave them not without great imperfection as they stand 
 for things. For our names of substances being not put barely 
 for oui- ideas, but being made use of ultimately to represent 
 things, and so are put in their place, their signification must 
 agree with the tmth of things as well as with men's ideas. 
 And therefoi'e, in substances, we ax'e not always to rest in 
 the ordinary complex idea commonly received as the signifi- 
 cation of that word, but must go a little further, and inquire 
 into the nature and properties of the things themselves, and 
 thereby perfect, as much as we can, our ideas of their distinct 
 species; or else learn them from such as are used to that 
 sort of things, and are experienced in them. For since it is 
 intended their names should stand for such collections of 
 simple ideas as do really exist in things themselves, as well 
 as for the complex idea in other men's minds, which in their 
 ordinary acceptation they stand for, therefore, to define their 
 names right, natural histoiy is to be inquired into, and their 
 properties are, with care and examination, to be found out. 
 For it is not enough, for the avoiding inconveniencies in 
 discourse and arguings about natural bodies and substantial 
 thmgs, to have learned, from the propriety of the language, 
 the common, but confused, or very imperfect idea to which 
 each word is applied, and to keep them to that idea in our 
 use of them; but we must, by acquainting om-selves with 
 the history of that sort of things, rectify and settle our com- 
 plex idea belonging to each specific name; and in discourse 
 with others, (if we find them mistake us,) we ought to tell 
 what the complex idea is that we make such a name stand
 
 126 OF HUMAN UNDEliSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 for. This is the more necessaiy to be done by all those who 
 search after knowledge and philosophical verity, in that 
 children, being taught words, whilst they have but imperfect 
 notions of things, apply them at random and without much 
 thinking, and seldom frame determined ideas to be signified 
 by them. Which custom (it being easy, and serving well 
 enough for the ordinary affairs of life and conversation) they 
 are apt to continue when they are men; and so begin at the 
 wrong end, learning words first and perfectly, but make the 
 notions to which they apjily those words afterwards very 
 overtly. By this means it comes to pass, that, men speaking 
 the langiaage of their country, i. e., according to grammar rules 
 of that language, do yet speak very improperly of things 
 themselves; and, by their arguing one with another, make 
 but small progress in the discoveries of iiseful truths and 
 the knowledge of things, as they are to be found in themselves, 
 and not in our imaginations ; and it matters not much for 
 the improvement of our knowledge how they are called. 
 
 25. Not easy to he made so. — It were therefore to be 
 wished that men versed in physical inquiries, and acquainted 
 with the several sorts of natural bodies, would set down 
 those simple ideas wherein they observe the individuals of 
 each sort constantly to agree. This would remedy a great 
 deal of that confusion wliich comes from several persons 
 applying the same name to a collection of a smaller or 
 greater number of sensible qualities, proportionably as they 
 have been more or less acquainted with, or accurate in 
 examining the qualities of any sort of things which come 
 under one denomination. But a dictionary of this sort, con- 
 taining, as it were, a natural history, requires too many 
 hands as well as too much time, cost, pains, and sagacity ever 
 to be hoped for; and till that be done, we must content our- 
 selves with such definitions of the names of substances as 
 explain the sense men use them in. And it would be well, 
 where there is occasion, if they would afford us so much. 
 This yet is not usually done ; but men talk to one another, 
 and dispute in words whose meaning is not agreed between 
 them, out of a mistake that the significations of common 
 words are certainly established, and the precise ideas they 
 stand for perfectly known; and that it is a shame to be 
 ignorant of them. Both which suppositions are false : no 
 names of complex ideas having so settled determined signi-
 
 CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OF WORDS. 127 
 
 fications, that they are constantly used for the same precise 
 ideas. Nor is it a shame for a man not to liave a certain 
 knowledge of anything, but by the necessary ways of attain- 
 ing it; and so it is no discredit not to know what precise 
 idea any sound stands for in another man's mind, without 
 he declare it to me by some other way than barely using 
 that sound ; there being no other way, without such a de- 
 claration, certainly to know it. Indeed the necessity of com- 
 munication by language brings men to an agreement in the 
 signification of common words, within some tolerable latitude, 
 that may serve for ordinaiy conversation : and so a man cannot 
 be supposed wholly ignorant of the ideas which are annexed 
 to words by common use, in a language familiar to him. But 
 common use being but a very uncertain rule, which re- 
 duces itself at last to the ideas of particular men, proves 
 often but a very variable standard. But though such a dic- 
 tionary as I have above mentioned will require too much time, 
 cost, and pains to be hoped for in this age; yet methinks 
 it is not imreasonable to propose, that words standing for 
 things Avhich are known and distinguished by their outward 
 shapes should be expressed by little draughts and prints 
 made of them. A vocabulary made after this fashion would 
 perhaps with more ease and in less time teach the tme 
 signification of many terms, especially in languages of re- 
 mote countries or ages, and settle truer ideas in men's 
 minds of several things whereof we read the names in 
 ancient authors, than all the large and laborious comments 
 of learned critics. Naturalists, that treat of plants and 
 animals, have found the benefit of this way : and he that 
 has had occasion to consult them will have reason to confess 
 that he has a clearer idea of apium or ibex, from a little 
 print of that herb or beast, than he could have from a long 
 definition of the names of either of them. And so no 
 doubt he would have of strigil and sistrum, if, instead of 
 currycomb and cymbal, (which are the English names 
 dictionaries render them by,) he could see stamped in- the 
 margin small pictures of these instniments, as they were in 
 use amongst the ancients. "Toga, tunica, pallium," are 
 words easily translated by gown, coat, and cloak; but we 
 have thereby no more tnie ideas of the fashion of those 
 habits amongst the Romans, than we have of the faces of 
 the tailors who made them. Such things as these, which
 
 128 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 the eye distinguishes by their shapes, would be best let into 
 the mind by draughts made of them, and more determine the 
 signification of such words than any other words set for them, 
 or made use of to define them. But this is only by the by.* 
 
 26. Y. By Constancy in tlieir Signification. — Fifthly, If 
 men will not be at the pains to declare the meaning of their 
 words, and definitions of their terms are not to be had, yet 
 this is the least that can be expected, that, in all discourses 
 wherein one man pretends to instruct or convince another, 
 he should use the same word constantly in the same sense : 
 if this were done, (which nobody can refuse without great 
 disingenuity,) many of the books extant might be spared ; 
 many of the controversies in dispute would be at an end ; 
 several of those great volumes, swollen with ambiguous 
 words, now used in one sense, and by and by in another, 
 would shrink into a very narrow compass ; and many of the 
 philosophers' (to mention no other) as well as j^oets' works, 
 might be contained in a nutshell. 
 
 27. Wlien the Variation is to be explaiTwd. — But after all, 
 the provision of words is so scanty in respect to that in- 
 finite variety of thoughts, that men, wanting tenns to suit 
 their precise notions, will, notwithstanding their utmost 
 caution, be forced often to use the same word in somewhat 
 difierent senses. And though in the continuation of a dis- 
 course, or the pursmt of an argument, there can be hardly 
 room to digress into a particular definition as often as a 
 man varies the signification of any term ; yet the import of 
 the discourse will, for the most part, if there be no designed 
 fallacy, sufficiently lead candid and intelligent readers into 
 the true meaning of it : but where there is not sufficient to 
 guide the reader, there it concerns the writer to explain his 
 meaning, and show in what sense he there uses that term. 
 
 * These suggestions of Locke have since been acted on in our encyclo- 
 poedias and dictionaries of natural science ; in which the representation 
 by engraving of objects spoken of in the text assists the descriptions in 
 conveying clear ideas to the mind. The vrord strigil usually signifies an 
 instrument used in the baths of the ancients for scraping off perspiration 
 and dust from the skin. It was shaped like the crooked knife with 
 which shoemakers hollow out the wood of ladies' high- heeled shoes. 
 The sistnnn had no resemblance to a pair of cymbals, but was in shaj>e 
 something like the jews' harp, with two or three cross-bars. The reader 
 will find an exact engraved representation of it in Montfaucon and 
 several other antiquarians. — Ed.
 
 CHAP. I.] KJfOWLEDGE. 129 
 
 BOOK lY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OP KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 1. Our Knowledge conversant about our Ideas. — Since the 
 mind, in all its thoughts and reasonings, hath no other im- 
 mediate- object but its own ideas, which it alone does ox* can 
 contemplate, it is evident that our knowledge is only conver- 
 sant about them. 
 
 2. Knoioledge is the Perception of tlie Agreement or Disa- 
 greernent of two Ideas. — Knowledge, then, seems to me to be 
 nothing but the perception of the connexion and agreement, 
 or disagreement and repugnancy of any of our ideas. In this 
 alone it consists. Where this perception is, there is know- 
 ledge ; and where it is not, there, though we may fancy, 
 guess, or believe, yet we always come short of knowledge. 
 For when we know that white is not black, what do we else 
 but perceive that these two ideas do not agree 1 When we 
 possess ourselves with the utmost security of the demonstra- 
 tion, that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two 
 right ones, what do we more but perceive, that equality to 
 two right ones does necessarily agree to, and is inseparable 
 from the three angles of a triangle 1 * 
 
 3. This Agreement fov/rf old. — But to understand a little 
 more distinctly wherein this agreement or disagreement con- 
 sists, I think we may reduce it all to these four sorts : 
 
 I. Identity, or diversity. 
 II. Relation. 
 III. Co-existence, or necessary connexion. 
 lY. Real existence. 
 
 4. First, Of Identity, or Diversity. — First, As to the first 
 sort of agreement or disagreement, viz., identity or diversity. 
 It is the first act of the mind, when it has any sentiments or 
 ideas at all, to perceive its ideas ; and so far as it perceives 
 them, to know each what it is, and thereby also to perceive 
 
 * See Appendix, No. VIII. at end of vol. ii. 
 VOL. II. K
 
 130 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 their difference, and that one is not another. This is so 
 absohitely necessary, that, without it, there could be no 
 knowledge, no reasoning, no imagination, no distinct thoughts 
 at all. By this the mind clearly and infallibly perceives each 
 idea to agree with itself, and to be what it is ; and all dis- 
 tinct ideas to disagree, i. e., the one not to be the other : and 
 this it does without pains, labour, or deduction ; but at first 
 view, by its natural power of perception and distinction. 
 And though men of art have reduced this into those general 
 rules, " what is, is," and " it is impossible for the same thing 
 to be and not to be," for ready application in all cases, 
 wherein there may be occasion to reflect on it : yet it is cer- 
 tain, that the first exercise of this faculty is about particular 
 ideas. A man infallibly knows, as soon as ever he has them 
 in his mind, that the ideas he calls white and round are the 
 very ideas they are, and that they are not other ideas which 
 he calls red or square, Nor can any maxim or proposition in 
 the world make him know it clearer or surer than he did 
 before, and without any such general rule. This then, is the 
 first agreement or disagreement which the mind perceives in 
 its ideas, which it always perceives at first sight : and if 
 there ever happen any doubt about it, it will always be found 
 to be about the names, and not the ideas themselves, whose 
 identity and diversity will always be perceived as soon and 
 clearly as the ideas themselves are ; nor can it possibly be 
 otherwise. 
 
 5. Secondly, Relative. — Secondly, the next sort of agree- 
 ment or disagreement the mind perceives in any of its ideas 
 may, I think, be called relative, and is nothing but the pei'- 
 ception of the relation between any two ideas, of what kind 
 soever, whether substances, modes, or any other. For, since 
 aU distinct ideas must eternally be known not to be the same, 
 and so be universally and constantly denied one of another, 
 thei'e could be no room for any positive knowledge at all, if 
 we could not perceive any relation between our ideas, and 
 find out the agreement or disagreement they have one with 
 another, in several ways the mind takes of comparing them. 
 
 6. Thirdly, Of Go-existence. — Thirdly, The third sort of 
 agreement or disagi'eement to be found in our ideas, which 
 the perception of the mind is employed about, is co-existence 
 or non-co-existence in the same subject ; and this belongs
 
 CHAP. I.] KNOWLEDGE. 131 
 
 particularly to substances. Thus, when we pronounce con- 
 cerning gold, that it is fixed, our knowledge of this truth 
 amounts to no more but tliis, that fixedness, or a power to 
 remain in the fire unconsumed, is an idea that always accom- 
 panies and is joined with that jiarticular sort of yellowness, 
 ■weight, fusibility, malleableuess, and solubility in aq. regia, 
 which make our complex idea, signified by the word gold. 
 
 7. FourtMy. Of real Existence. — Fourthly, The fourth and 
 last sort is that of actual and real existence agreeing to any 
 idea. "Within these foiir sorts of agreement or disagreement 
 is, I suppose, contained all the knowledge we have, or are 
 capable of : for all the inquiries we can make concerning any 
 of our ideas, all that we know or can afiirm concerning any of 
 them is, that it is, or is not, the same with some other ; that 
 it does or does not always co-exist with some other idea in 
 the same subject ; that it has this or that relation with some 
 other idea ; or that it has a real existence withoiit the mind. 
 Thus, blue is not yellow, is of identity : two triangles upon 
 equal bases between two parellels are equal, is of relation : 
 iron is susceptible of magnetical impressions, is of co-exist- 
 ence : God is, is of real existence. Though identity and co- 
 existence are truly nothing but relations, yet they are such 
 peculiar ways of agi-eement or disagreement of our ideas, that 
 they deserve well to be considei'ed as distinct heads, and not 
 under relation in general ; since they are so different grounds 
 of affirmation and negation, as will easily appear to any one, 
 who will but reflect on what is said in several places of this 
 essay. I should not proceed to examine the several degrees 
 of our knowledge, but that it is necessary fii'st to consider the 
 different acceptations of the word, knowledge. 
 
 8. Knowledge actual or habitual. — There are several ways 
 wherein the mind is possessed of truth, each of which is 
 called knowledge. 
 
 I. There is actual knowledge, which is the present view 
 the mind has of the agreement or disagreement of any of its 
 ideas, or of the relation they have one to another. 
 
 II. A man is said to know any proposition, which, having 
 been once laid before his thoughts, he evidently perceived 
 the agx'eement or disagreement of the ideas whereof it con- 
 sists ; and so lodged it in his memory, that, whenever that 
 proposition comes again to be reflected on, he, without doubt 
 
 K 2
 
 132 OF HUMAJf UKDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 or hesitation, embraces the right side, assents to, and is cer- 
 tain of the truth of it. This, I think, one may call habitual 
 knowledge : and thus a man may be said to know all those 
 truths which are lodged in his memory, by a foregoing clear 
 and full perception, whereof the mind is assured past doubt 
 as often as it has occasion to reflect on them : for our finite 
 understandings being able to think clearly and distinctly but 
 on one thing at once, if men had no knowledge of any more 
 than what they actually thought on, they would all be very 
 ignorant ; and he that knew most, would know but one 
 truth — that being all he was able to think on at one time. 
 
 9. Habitual Knowledge, twofold. — Of habitual knowledge 
 there are, also, \ailgarly speaking, two degrees : 
 
 First, The one is of such tmths laid up in the memory as, 
 whenever they occur to the mind, it actually perceives the 
 relation is between those ideas. And this is in all those 
 truths whereof we have an intuitive knowledge ; where the 
 ideas themselves, by an immediate view, discover their agree- 
 ment or disagreement one with another. 
 
 Secondly, the other is of such truths whereof the mind 
 having been convinced, it retains the memory of the convic- 
 tion, without the proofs. Thus, a man that remembers cer- 
 tainly that he once perceived the demonstration, that the 
 three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, is 
 certain that he knows it, because he cannot doubt the truth 
 of it. In his adherence to a truth where the demonstration 
 by which it was at first known, is forgot, though a man may 
 be thought rather to believe his memory than really to know ; 
 and this way of entertaining a truth seemed formerly to me 
 like something between opinion and knowledge; a sort of 
 assurance which exceeds bare belief — for that relies on the 
 testimony of another : yet upon a due examination I find it 
 comes not short of perfect certainty, and is in effect true 
 knowledge. That which is apt to mislead our first thoughts 
 into a mistake in this matter, is, that the agreement or dis- 
 agreement of the ideas in this case is not perceived, as it was 
 at first, by an actual view of all the intermediate ideas 
 whereby the agreement or disagreement of those in the pro- 
 position was at first perceived; but by other intermediate 
 ideas, that show the agreement or disagreement of the ideas 
 contained in the proposition whose certainty we remember.
 
 CHAP. I.] KNOWLEDGE. 1 33 
 
 For example : iu tliis proposition, that the tliree angles of a 
 triangle are equal to two right ones, one who has seen and 
 clearly perceived the demonstration of this truth knows it to 
 be true, when that demonstration is gone out of his mind ; 
 so that at present it is not actually in view, and possibly 
 cannot be recollected: but he knows it in a ditfereut way 
 from what he did before. The agreement of the two ideas 
 joined in that ^proposition is perceived, but it is by the inter- 
 vention of other ideas than those which at first produced that 
 perception. He remembers, i. e., he knows (for remembrance 
 is but the reviving of some past knowledge) that he was 
 once certain of the truth of this proposition, that the three 
 angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones. The im- 
 mutability of the same relations between the same immu- 
 table things is now the idea that shows him, that, if the three 
 angles of a triangle were once equal to two riglit ones, they 
 will always be equal to two right ones. And hence he 
 comes to be certain, that what was once true in the case, is 
 always true; what ideas once agreed will always agree; and 
 consequently what he once knew to be true, he will always 
 know to be true, as long as he can remember that he once 
 knew it. Upon this ground it is, that particular demon- 
 strations in mathematics afford general knowledge. If then 
 the perception that the same ideas will eternally have the 
 same habitudes and relations, be not a sufficient ground of 
 knowledge, there could be no knowledge of general projjosi- 
 tions in mathematics; for no mathematical demonstration 
 would be any other than particular; and when a man had 
 demonstrated any proposition concerning one triangle or 
 cii'cle, his knowledge would not reach beyond that particular 
 diagram. If he would extend it further, he must renew his 
 demonstration in another instance, before he could know it 
 to be true in another like triangle, and so on: by which 
 means one could never come to the knowledge of any general 
 propositions. Nobody, I think, can deny, that Mi'. Newton 
 certainly knows any proposition that he now at any time 
 reads in his book to be true; though he has not in actual 
 view that admirable chain of intermediate ideas whereby he 
 at first discovered it to be true. Such a memory as that, 
 able to retain such a train of particulars, may be well 
 thought beyond the reach of human faculties ; when the
 
 134 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 very discovery, perceptiou, and laying together that wonder- 
 ful connexion of ideas, is found to surpass most readers' com- 
 prehension. But yet it is evident the author himself knows 
 the proposition to be true, remembering he once saw the 
 connexion of those ideas, as certainly as he knows such a 
 man wounded another, remembering that he saw him run 
 him through. But because the memory is not always so 
 clear as actual perception, and does in all men more or less 
 decay in length of time, this amongst other differences is 
 one, which shows that demonstrative knowledge is much 
 more imperfect than intuitive, as we shall see in the following 
 chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OF THE DEGREES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 1. Intuitive. — All our knowledge consisting, as 1 have 
 said, in the view the mind has of its own ideas, which is the 
 utmost light and greatest certainty we, with our faculties, 
 and in oui* way of knowledge, are capable of; it may not be 
 amiss to consider a little the degrees of its evidence. The 
 different clearness of our knowledge seems to me to lie in 
 the different way of perception the mind has of the agree- 
 ment or disagreement of any of its ideas. For if we will 
 reflect on our oa^ti ways of thinking, we shall find, that 
 sometimes the mind perceives the agreement or disagreement 
 of two ideas immediately by themselves, without the inter- 
 -vention of any other : and this I think we may call intuitive 
 knowledge. For in this the mind is at no pains of proving 
 or examining, but perceives the truth as the eye doth light, 
 only by being directed towards it. Thus the mind perceives 
 that white is not black, that a circle is not a triangle, that 
 three are more than two, and equal to one and two. Such 
 kinds of truths the mind perceives at the first sight of the 
 ideas togethei', by bare intuition, without the intervention of 
 any other idea ; and this kind of knowledge is the clearest 
 and most certain that human frailty is capable of This 
 part of knowledge is irresistible, and, like bright sunshine, 
 forces itself immediately to be perceived, as soon as ever the 
 mind turns its view that way, and leaves no room for hesita-
 
 CHAP. II.] DEGREES OF KNOWLEDGE. 135 
 
 tion, doubt, or examination, but the mind is presently filled 
 with the clear light of it. It is on this intuition that de- 
 pends all the certainty and evidence of all our knowledge; 
 which cei'tainty every one finds to be so great, that he 
 cannot imaguie, and therefore not require a greater: for a 
 man cannot conceive himself capable of a greater certainty 
 than to know that any idea in his mind is such as he per- 
 ceives it to be; and that two ideas wherein he perceives a 
 difference, are different and not precisely the same. He that 
 demands a greater certainty than this, demands he knows 
 not what, and shows only that he has a mind to be a sceptic, 
 without being able to be so. Certainty depends so wholly 
 on this intuition, that, in the next degree of knowledge 
 which I call demonstrative, this intuition is necessary in all 
 the connexions of the intermediate ideas, without which we 
 cannot attain knowledge and certainty. 
 
 2. Demonstrative — The next degree of knowledge is, where 
 the mind perceives the agreement or disagreement of any 
 ideas, but not immediately. Though wherever the mind 
 perceives the agi'eement or disagreement of any of its ideas, 
 there be certain knowledge; yet it does not always happen, 
 that the mind sees that agreement or disagreement which 
 there is between them, even where it is discoverable : and in 
 that case remains in ignorance, and at most gets no further 
 than a probable conjecture. The reason why the mind 
 cannot always perceive presently the agreement or disagree- 
 ment of two ideas, is, because those ideas, concerning whose 
 agreement or disagreement the inquiry is made, cannot by 
 the mind be so put together as to show it. In this case, 
 then, when the mind cannot so bring its ideas together as 
 by their immediate comparison, and as it were juxta-position 
 or application one to another, to perceive their agreement or 
 disagreement, it is fain, by the intervention of other ideas 
 (one or more, as it happens) to discover the agreement or 
 disagreement which it searches ; and this is that which we call 
 reasoning. Thus the mind being willing to know the agree- 
 ment or disagreement in bigness between the three angles of 
 a ti'iangle and two right ones, cannot by an immediate view 
 and comparing them do it : because the three angles of a 
 triangle cannot be brought at once and be compared with 
 any one or two angles; and so of this the mind has no im-
 
 136 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV 
 
 mediate, no intuitive knowledge. In this case the mind is 
 fain to find out some other angles, to which the three angles 
 of a triangle have an equality; and, finding those equal to 
 two right ones, comes to know their equality to two right 
 ones. 
 
 3. Depends on Proofs. — Those intervening ideas which 
 serve to show the agi-eement of any two others, are called 
 proofs; and where the agreement and disagreement is by 
 tliis means plainly and clearly perceived, it is called demon- 
 stration ; it being shown to the understanding, and the mind 
 made to see that it is so. A quickness in the mind to find 
 out these intermediate ideas (that shall discover the agree- 
 ment or disagreement of any other) and to apply them right, 
 is, I suppose, that which is called sagacity.* 
 
 4. But not so easy. — This knowledge by intervening proois, 
 though it be certain, yet the evidence of it is not altogether 
 so clear and bright, nor the assent so ready as in intuitive 
 knowledge. For though in demonstration the mind does 
 at last perceive the agi'eement or disagreement of the ideas 
 it considers, yet it is not without pains and attention : there 
 must be more than one transient view to find it. A steady 
 application and pursuit are required to this discovery; and 
 there must be a progression by steps and degi-ees before the 
 mind can in this way arrive at certainty, and come to per- 
 ceive the agreement or repugnancy between two ideas that 
 need proofs and the use of reason to show it. 
 
 5. JVot without frecedent Doubt. — Another difierence be- 
 tween intuitive and demonstrative knowledge is, that, though 
 in the latter all doubt be removed when, by the intervention 
 of the intermediate ideas, the agreement or disagi'eement is 
 l^erceived; yet before the demonstration there was a doubt, 
 which in intuitive knowledge cannot happen to the mind 
 that has its faculty of perception left to a degree capable 
 of distinct ideas, no more than it can be a doubt to the eye 
 
 * Hobbes' account of this quality is as follows: — " Another sort of 
 discussion is, when the appetite giveth a man his beginning ; as in the 
 example before, where honour, to which a man hath appetite, maketh 
 him think upon the next means of attaining it, and that again to the 
 next, &c. And this the Latins call sagae'das, and we call hunting or 
 tracing ; as dogs trace beasts by the smell, and men hunt them by their 
 footsteps; or as men hunt after riches, place, or knowledge." (Hum, 
 Nat. 0. iv. § 4.)— Ed.
 
 CHAP. II.] DEGREES OF KNOWLEDGE. 137 
 
 (that can distinctly see white and black) whether this ink 
 and this jDaper be all of a colour. If there be sight in the 
 eyes, it will, at first glimpse, without hesitation, perceive 
 the words printed on this paper different from the colour 
 of the paper : and so if the mind have the facidty of distinct 
 perceptions it will perceive the agreement or disagx-eement 
 of those ideas that produce intuitive knowledge. If the 
 eyes have lost the faculty of seeing, or the mind of per- 
 ceiving, we in vain inquire after the quickness of sight in 
 one, or clearness of perception in the other. 
 
 6. Not so clear. — It is true, the perception produced by 
 demonstration is also very clear; yet it is often with a great 
 abatement of that evident kistre and full assurance that 
 always accompany that which I call intuitive; like a face 
 reflected by several mirrors one to another, where, as long 
 as it retains the similitude and agreement with the object, 
 it produces a knowledge; but it is still in every successive 
 reflection with a lessening of that perfect clearness and dis- 
 tinctness which is in the first, till at last, after many removes, 
 it has a great mixture of dimness, and is not at fii'st sight 
 so knowable, especially to weak eyes. Thus it is with know- 
 ledge made out by a long train of proof. 
 
 7. Each Step must have intuitive Evidence. — Now, in every 
 step reason makes in demonstrative knowledge, there is an 
 intuitive knowledge of that agi-eement or disagreement it 
 seeks with the next intermediate idea, which it uses as a 
 proof : for if it were not so, that yet would need a proof; 
 since without the perception of such agreement or disagree- 
 ment there is no knowledge produced. If it be perceived 
 by itself, it is intuitive knowledge : if it camiot be perceived 
 by itself, there is need of some intervening idea, as a com- 
 mon measure, to show their agreement or disagreement. 
 By which it is plain, that every step in reasoning that pro- 
 duces knowledge, has intuitive certainty ; which when the 
 mind perceives, there is no more requii-ed, but to remember 
 it to make the agreement or disagreement of the ideas con- 
 cerning which we inquire visible and certain. So that to 
 make anything a demonstration, it is necessary to perceive 
 the immediate agreement of the intervening ideas, whereby 
 the agreement or disagreement of the two ideas under ex- 
 amination (whereof the one is always the first, and the other
 
 138 OF HUMA2f UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 the last in the account) is found. This intuitive perception 
 of the agreement or disagreement of the intermediate ideas, 
 in each step and progression of the demonstration, must 
 also be carried exactly in the mind, and a man must be sure 
 that no part is left out : which, because in long deductions, 
 and the use of many proofs, the memory does not always 
 so readily and exactly retain; therefore it comes to pass, 
 that this is more imperfect than intuitive knowledge, and 
 men embrace often falsehood for demonstrations. 
 
 8. Heyice the Mistake, " ex prcecognitis, et prceconcessis." — 
 The necessity of this intuitive knowledge in each step of 
 scientincal or demonstrative reasoning gave occasion, I ima- 
 gine, to that mistaken axiom, that all reasoning was " ex 
 pragcognitis et prajconcessis;" which, how far it is mistaken, 
 I shall have occasion to show more at large when I come 
 to consider propositions, and particularly those propositions 
 which are called maxims ; and to show that it is by a mis- 
 take that they are supposed to be the foundations of all our 
 knowledge and reasonings. 
 
 9. Demonsttxition not limited to Quantity. — It has been 
 generally taken for granted, that mathematics alone are capa- 
 ble of demonstrative certainty : but to have such an agree- 
 ment or disagreement as may intuitively be perceived, Ijeing, 
 as I imagine, not the privilege of the ideas of number, ex- 
 tension, and figure alone, it may possibly be the want of 
 due method and application in us, and not of sufficient evi- 
 dence in things, that demonstration has been thought to 
 have so little to do in other parts of knowledge, and been 
 scarce so much as aimed at by any but mathematicians. 
 For whatever ideas we have wherein the mind can joerceive 
 the immediate agreement or disagreement that is between 
 them, there the mind is capable of intuitive knowledge; and 
 where it can perceive the agreement or disagreement of any 
 two ideas, by an intuitive perception of the agreement or 
 disagreement they have with any intermediate ideas, there 
 the mind is capable of demonstration ; which is not limited 
 to ideas of extension, figure, number, and their modes. 
 
 1 0. Why it has been so thought . — The reason why it has 
 been generally sought for, and supposed to be only in those, 
 I imagine has been not only the general usefulness of those 
 sciences; but because in comparing their equality or excess,
 
 CHAP. II.] DEGREES OF KXOWLEDGE. 139 
 
 the modes of numbers have eveiy the least difference very- 
 clear and perceivable; and though in extension every the 
 least excess is not so perceptible, yet the mind has found 
 out ways to examine and discover demonstratively the just 
 equality of two angles, or extensions, or figures : and both 
 these, i, e,, numbers and figures, can be set down by visible 
 and lasting marks, wherein the ideas under consideration 
 are perfectly determined; which for the most part they are 
 not, where they are marked only by names and words. 
 
 11. But in other simple ideas whose modes and difi'erences 
 are made and counted by degrees, and not quantity, we have 
 not so nice and accurate a distinction of their differences 
 as to perceive and find ways to measure their just equality, 
 or the least difierences. For those other simple ideas being 
 api^earances of sensations produced in us by the size, figure, 
 number, and motion of minute corpuscles singly insensible ; 
 their different degrees also depend upon the variation of 
 some or of all those causes : which, since it cannot be ob- 
 sei-ved by us in particles of matter, whereof each is too 
 subtile to be perceived, it is impossible for us to have any 
 exact measures of the different degrees of these simple ideas. 
 For supposing the sensation or idea we name whiteness be 
 produced in us by a certain number of globules, which, 
 having a verticity about their own centres, strike upon the 
 retina of the eye with a certain degree of rotation, as well 
 as progressive swiftness; it will hence easily follow, that 
 the more the superficial parts of any body are so ordered 
 as to reflect the greater number of globules of light, and to 
 give them the proper rotation, which is fit to produce this 
 sensation of white in us, the more white will that body ap- 
 pear, that from an equal space sends to the retina the greater 
 number of such corpuscles, with that peculiar sort of motion. 
 I do not say that the nature of light consists in very small 
 round globules, nor of whiteness in such a texture of parts 
 as gives a certain rotation to these globules when it reflects 
 them; for I am not now treating physically of light or 
 colours. But this I think I may say, that I cannot (and 
 I would be glad any one would make intelligible that he 
 did) conceive how bodies without us can any ways affect 
 our senses, but by the immediate contact of the sensible 
 bodies themselves, as in tasting and feeling, or the impulse
 
 140 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 of some sensible particles coming from them, as in seeing, 
 hearing, and smelling; by the different impulse of which 
 parts, caused by their different size, figure, and motion, the 
 variety of sensations is produced in us.* 
 
 12. Whether then they be globules or no, or whether 
 they have a verticity about their own centres that produces 
 the idea of whiteness in us; this is certain, that the more 
 particles of light are reflected from a body fitted to give 
 them that peculiar motion which produces the sensation of 
 whiteness in us; and possibly too, the quicker that peculiar 
 motion is, the whiter does the body appear from which the 
 greater number are reflected, as is evident in the same 
 piece of paper put in the sunbeams, in the shade, and in 
 a dark hole ; in each of which it will produce in us the idea 
 of whiteness in far different degrees. 
 
 13. Not knowing, therefore, what number of particles, 
 nor what motion of them is fit to produce any precise 
 degree of whiteness, we cannot demonstrate the certain 
 equality of any two degi-ees of whiteness, because we have 
 no certain standard to measure them by, nor means to dis- 
 tinguish every the least real difference — the only help we 
 have being from our senses, which in this point faO us. 
 But where the difference is so great as to produce in the 
 mind clearly distinct ideas, whose differences can be per- 
 fectly retaiued, there these ideas or colours, as we see in 
 different kinds, as blue and red, are as capable of demon- 
 stration as ideas of number and extension. What I have 
 here said of whiteness and colours, I think holds true in all 
 secondary qualities and their modes. 
 
 14. Sensitive Knowledge of particular Existence. — These 
 two, viz., intuition and demonstration, are the degrees of 
 our knowledge ; whatever comes short of one of these, with 
 what assurance soever embraced, is but faith or opinion, bi;t 
 not knowledge, at least in all general tniths. There is, in- 
 deed, another perception of the mind employed, about the 
 particular existence of finite beings without us, which, going 
 beyond bare probability, and yet not reaching perfectly to 
 
 * This whole theory is exceedingly unphilosophical ; for thus a thing 
 would wear out by being seen. Rather than countenance such wild 
 notions it were better to admit at once that we comprehend nothing 
 at all of the matter -Ed.
 
 CHAP. II.] DEGREES OP KNOWLEDGE. 141 
 
 either of the foregoing degrees of certainty, passes under 
 the name of knowledge. There can be nothing more certain 
 than that the idea we receive from an external object is in 
 our minds : this is intuitive knowledge. But whether there 
 be anything more than barely that idea in our minds, 
 whether we can thence certainly infer the existence of any- 
 thing without us which corresponds to that idea, is that 
 whereof some men think there may be a question made; 
 because men may have such ideas in their minds when no 
 such thing exists, no such object affects their senses. But 
 yet here I think we are provided with an evidence that puts 
 us past doubting : for I ask any one, whether he be not in- 
 vincibly conscious to himself of a different perception when 
 he looks on the sun by day, and thinks on it by night ; 
 when he actually tastes wormwood, or smells a rose, or only 
 thinks on that savour or odour? "We as plainly find the 
 difference there is between an idea revived in our minds by 
 our own memory, and actually coming into our minds by 
 our senses, as we do between any two distinct ideas. If 
 any one say, a dream may do the same thing, and all these 
 ideas may be produced in us without any external objects; 
 he may please to dream that I make him this answer : — 
 1. That it is no great matter, whether I remove this 
 scruple or no : where all is but dream, reasoning and argu- 
 ments are of no use, truth and knowledge nothing. 2. That 
 I believe he will allow a very manifest difference between 
 dreaming of being in the fire and being actually in it. 
 But yet if he be resolved to appear so sceptical as to main- 
 tain that what I call being actually in the fire is nothing 
 but a dream; and we cannot thereby certainly know that 
 any such thing as fire actually exists without us : I answer, 
 that we certainly finding that pleas\ire or pain follows upon 
 the application of certain objects to us, whose existence we 
 perceive, or dream that we perceive, by our senses; this 
 certainty is as great as our happiness or misery, beyond 
 which we have no concernment to know or to be. So that 
 I think we may add to the two former sorts of knowledge 
 this also of the existence of particular external objects, by 
 that perception and consciousness we have of the actual 
 entrance of ideas from them, and allow these three degrees 
 of knowledge, viz., intuitive, demonstrative, and sensitive:
 
 142 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV 
 
 in each of which there are different degrees and ways of 
 evidence and certainty. 
 
 15. Knowledge not always clear, where the Ideas are so. — 
 But since our knowledge is founded on and employed about 
 our ideas only, will it not follow from thence that it is con- 
 formable to our ideas; and that where ovir ideas are clear 
 and distinct, or obscure and confused, our knowledge will 
 be so too? To which I answer, 'No : for our knowledge 
 consisting in the perception of the agreement or disagree- 
 ment of any two ideas, its clearness or obscurity consists in 
 the clearness or obscurity of that perception, and not in the 
 clearness or obscurity of the ideas themselves ; v. g., a man 
 that has as clear ideas of the angles of a triangle, and of 
 equality to two right ones, as any mathematician in the 
 world, may yet have but a very obscure percejition of their 
 agreement, and so have but a very obscure knowledge of it. 
 But ideas, which, by reason of their obscurity or otherwise, 
 are confused, cannot produce any clear or distinct know- 
 ledge; because, as far as any ideas are confused, so far the 
 mind camiot perceive clearly whether they agree or dis- 
 agree : or, to express the same thing in a way less apt to be 
 misunderstood, he that hath not determined ideas to the 
 words he uses, cannot make propositions of them, of whose 
 truth he can be certain. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF THE EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 1. KJNOWLEDGE, as has been said, lying in the perception 
 of the agreement or disagreement of any of our ideas, it 
 follows from hence, that, 
 
 1. iVo further than we have Ideas. — First, we can have 
 knowledge no further than we have ideas. 
 
 2. II. 1^0 further than we can fercevoe their Agreement or 
 Disagreement. — Secondly, That we have no knowledge further 
 than we can have perception of their agreement or disagree- 
 ment. Which perception being: 1. Either by intuition, 
 or the immediate comparing any two ideas ; or, 2. By reason, 
 examining the agreement or disagreement of two ideas, by 
 the intervention of some others; or, 3. By sensation, per-
 
 CHAP. III.] EXTENT OF HUM.VN KNOWLEDGE. 113 
 
 ceiving the existence of particular things; hence it also 
 follows : 
 
 3. III. Intuititive Knotoledge extends itself not to all tJte 
 Relations of all our Ideas. — Thirdly, That we cannot have 
 an intuitive knowledge that shall extend itself to all our 
 ideas, and all that we wovdd know about them ; because we 
 cannot examine and perceive all the relations they have one 
 to another by juxta-position, or an immediate comparison 
 one with another. Thus, having the ideas of an obtuse and 
 an acute angled triangle, both di-awn from equal bases, and 
 between parallels, I can, by intuitive knowledge, perceive 
 the one not to be the other, but cannot that way know 
 whether they be equal or no; because their agreement or 
 disagreement in equality can never be perceived by an im- 
 mediate comparing them: the difference of figure makes 
 their parts incapable of an exact immediate application, and 
 therefore there is need of some intervening qualities to measure 
 them by, which is demonstration, or rational knowledge. 
 
 4. IV. Nor demonstrative Knowledge. — Fourthly, It follows, 
 also, fi'om what is above observed, that our rational know- 
 ledge cannot reach to the whole extent of our ideas; because 
 between two different ideas we would examine, we cannot 
 always find such mediums as we can connect one to another 
 with an intuitive knowledge in all the parts of the deduction ; 
 and whei"ever that fails, we come short of knowledge and 
 demonstration, 
 
 5. V. Sensitive Knowledge na/rrower than eitlier. — Fifthly, 
 Sensitive knowledge reaching no further than the existence 
 of things actually present to our senses, is yet much narrower 
 than either of the former. 
 
 6. VI. Our Knowledge, therefore, narrower than our Ideas. 
 — From all which it is evident, that the extent of our know- 
 ledge comes not only short of the reality of things, but even 
 of the extent of our own ideas. Though our knowledge be 
 limited to ovxr ideas, and cannot exceed them either in extent 
 or perfection; and though these be very narrow bounds, 
 in respect of the extent of all being, and far short of what 
 we may justly imagine to be in some even created under- 
 standings, not tied down to the dull and narrow information 
 which is to be received from some few, and not very acute 
 ways of perception, such as are our senses; yet it would be
 
 Hi OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [^OK IV. 
 
 well with us if our knowledge were but as large as our ideas, 
 and there were not many doubts and inquiries concerning 
 the ideas we have, whereof we are not, nor I believe ever 
 shall be in this world resolved. Nevertheless I do not 
 question but that human knowledge, under the present cir- 
 cimistances of our beings and constitutions, may be carried 
 much further than it has hitherto been, if men would sin- 
 cerely, and with freedom of mind, employ all that industry 
 and labour of thought in improving the means of discover- 
 ing truth, which they do for the colouring or support of 
 falsehood, to maintain a system, interest, or party they are 
 once engaged in. But yet, after all, I think I may, without 
 injmy to human perfection, be confident, that our knowledge 
 would never reach to all we might desire to know concern- 
 ing those ideas we have; nor be able to surmount all the 
 difficulties, and resolve all the questions that might arise 
 concerning any of them. We have the ideas of a square, 
 a circle, and equality; and yet, perhaps, shall never be able 
 to find a circle equal to a square, and certainly know that 
 it is so. We have the ideas of matter and thinking, but 
 possibly shall never be able to know whether any mere 
 material being thinks or no;* it being impossible for us, by 
 the contemplation of our own ideas, without revelation, to 
 discover whether Omnipotency has not given to some systems 
 of matter fitly disposed, a power to perceive and think, or 
 else joined and fixed to matter so disposed a thinking im- 
 material substance ; it being, in respect of ovir notions, not 
 much more remote from our comprehension to conceive that 
 God can, if he pleases, superadd to matter a faculty of 
 thinking, than that he should superadd to it another sub- 
 stance with a faculty of thinking ; siuce we know not where- 
 in thinking consists, nor to what sort of substances the 
 Almighty has been pleased to give that power, which can- 
 not be in any created being, but merely by the good pleasure 
 and bounty of the Creator. For I see no contradiction in 
 it, that the first eternal thinking being should, if he pleased, 
 give to certaia systems of created senseless matter, put to- 
 gether as he thinks fit, some degrees of sense, perception, 
 and thought; though, as I think I have proved, lib. ir. 
 ch. 10, § 14, &c., it is no less than a contradiction to suppose 
 * See Appendix, No. IX. at the end of vol. ii.
 
 CHA*1II.] EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 145 
 
 matter (which is evidently in its own nature void of sense 
 and thought) should be that eternal first-thinking being. 
 What certainty of knowledge can any one have, that some 
 perceptions, such as, v. g., pleasure and pain, should not be 
 in some bodies themselves, after a certain manner modified 
 and moved, as well as that they should be in an immaterial 
 substance, upon the motion of the parts of body? Body, 
 as far as we can conceive, being able only to strike and aifect 
 body; and motion, according to the utmost reach of our 
 ideas, being able to produce nothing but motion ; so that 
 when we allow it to produce pleasure or pain, or the idea 
 of a colour or sound, wc are fain to quit our reason, go be- 
 yond our ideas, and attribute it wholly to the good pleasure 
 of our Maker. For since we must allow he has annexed 
 effects to motion, which we can no way conceive motion able 
 to pi'oduce, what reason have we to conclude that he could 
 not order them as well to be produced in a subject we can- 
 not conceive capable of them, as well as in a subject we 
 cannot conceive the motion of matter can any way operate 
 uponi I say not this, that I would any way lessen the be- 
 lief of the soul's immateriality : I am not here speaking of 
 probability, but knowledge; and I think not only that it 
 becomes the modesty of philosophy not to pronounce magis- 
 terially, where we want that evidence that can produce know- 
 ledge ; but also, that it is of use to us to discern how far our 
 knowledge does reach ; for the state we are at present in, not 
 being that of vision, we must in many things content our- 
 selves with faith and probability ; and in the present question, 
 about the immateriality of the soul, if our faculties cannot 
 arrive at demonstrative certainty, we need not think it strange. 
 All the great ends of morality and religion are well enough 
 secured, vdthout philosopliical proofs of the soul's immate- 
 riality; since it is evident, that he who made us at the be- 
 ginning to subsist here, sensible, intelligent beings, and 
 for several years continued us in such a state, can and will 
 restore us to the like state of sensibility in another world, 
 and make us capable there to receive the retribution he 
 has designed to men, according to their doings in this life. 
 And therefore it is not of such mighty necessity to determine 
 one way or the other, as some, over-zealous for or against 
 the immateriality of the soul, have been forward to make 
 VOL. II. L
 
 146 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV, 
 
 the world believe. Who, either on the one side indulging 
 too much their thoughts immersed altogether in matter, can 
 allow no existence to what is not material; or who, on the 
 other side, finding not cogitation within the natural powers 
 of matter, examined over and over again by the utmost 
 intention of mind, have the confidence to conclude, that 
 Omuipotency itself cannot give perception and thought to a 
 substance which has the modification of soKdity. He that con- 
 siders how hardly sensation is, in our thoughts, reconcilable 
 to extended matter; or existence to anything that has no 
 existence at all, will confess that he is very far from cer- 
 tainly knowing what his soul is. It is a point which 
 seems to me to be put out of the reach of our knowledge; 
 and he who will give himself leave to consider freely, and 
 look into the dark and intricate part of each hypothesis, 
 will scarce find his reason able to determine him fixedly for 
 or against the soul's materiaKty : since, on which side soever 
 he views it, either as an unextended substance, or as a thinking 
 extended mattei", the difficidty to conceive either will, whilst 
 either alone is in his thoughts, still drive him to the con- 
 traiy side. An imfair way which some men take with 
 themselves; who, because of the inconceivableness of some- 
 thing they find in one, throw themselves violently into the 
 contrary hypothesis, though altogether as unintelligible to 
 an unbiassed understanding. This serves not only to show 
 the weakness and the scantiness of our knowledge, but the 
 insignificant triumph of such sort of arguments, which, 
 drawn from our own views, may satisfy us that we can find 
 no certainty on one side of the question ; but do not at all 
 thereby help us to truth by running into the opposite 
 opinion, which, on examination, will be found clogged with 
 equal difiiculties. For what safety, what advantage to any 
 one is it, for the avoiding the seeming absurdities, and to 
 him unsurmountable rubs he meets with in one opinion, to 
 take refuge in the contrary, which is built on something 
 altogether as inexplicable, and as far remote from his com- 
 prehension] It is past controversy, that we have in us 
 something that thinks; our very doubts about what it is, 
 confirm the certainty of its being, though we must content 
 ourselves in the ignorance of what kind of being it is : and 
 it is ill vain to go about to be sceptical in this, as it is un-
 
 CHAP. III.] EXTENT OP HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 117 
 
 reasonable in most other cases to be positive against th(! 
 being of anything, because we cannot comprehend its nature. 
 For I would fain know what substance exists, that has not 
 something in it which manifestly baffles our understandings. 
 Other spirits, who see and know the nature and inward 
 constitution of things, how much must they exceed us in 
 knowledge? To which, if we add larger comprehension, 
 which enables them at one glance to see the connexion and 
 agreement of very many ideas, and readily supplies to them 
 the intermediate proofs, which we by sragle and slow steps, 
 and long poring in the dark, hardly at last find out, and are 
 often ready to forget one before we have hiinted out an- 
 other; we may guess at some part of the happiness of superior 
 ranks of spirits, who have a quicker and more penetrating 
 sight, as well as a larger field of knowledge.* But to return 
 
 * Baxter, than whom few men of purer mind or more undoubted 
 piety have ever existed, appears to have contemplated this question in 
 much the same light as Locke. He seems to have despaired of arriving 
 at certainty on such matters in this world, and being passionately in 
 love with knowledge, conceived that much of the happiness of a future 
 life would consist in unravelling those mysteries, the bare skirts of 
 which we can here discern through a glass darkly. " It will," he says, 
 "be some addition to my future happiness that I shall then be much 
 better acquainted vsdth myself, both with my nature, and with my sin 
 and grace. I shall then better know the nature of a soul, and its 
 formal faculties, three in one. I shall know the nature and way of its 
 operations, and how far its acts are simple, or compound, or organical. 
 I shall know how far memory, phantasy, and sense internal and external 
 belong to the rational soul, and whether the sensitive and rational are 
 two or one, and what senses will perish, and what not. I shall knov/ 
 how the soul doth act upon itself, and what acts it hath that are not felt, 
 in sleep, in apoplexies, and in the womb. I sliall know whether the 
 vegetative nature be anything else than fire, and whether it.be of the 
 same essence with the soul, sensitive or rational ; and whether fire 
 eminenter be a conimon fundamental substance of all spirits, diversely 
 specified by the forms, mental, sensitive, and vegetative ; or whether 
 it be as a body, or vehicle to spirits, or rather a nature made for the 
 copulation of spirits and bodies, and the operation of the former on the 
 latter, as between both ; and whether fire, and what sort, be the active 
 forma telhoris, and of other globes. I shall know how far souls are one 
 and yet many, and how they are individuate ; and whether their quaii- 
 tiias discreta, in being numerically many, do prove that they have any 
 quantitateni continuam, and whether they are a purer sort of bodies, as 
 the Greek fathers, Tertullian and others, thought, and what imma- 
 teriality signifieth : and what substantiality of spirit ; and how substantia 
 and materia differ; and how far they are penetrable and indivisible; and 
 whether a soul be properly jjch's .■ and whether individual souls are parts 
 
 l2
 
 148 OP BJJUAS USDERSTAITDDrG. [bOOK IV. 
 
 to the argument in hand : our knowledge, I say, is not only- 
 limited to the paucity and imperfections of the ideas we have, 
 and which we employ it alx»ut, but even comes short of that 
 too. But how fer it reaches, let us now inquire. 
 
 7. Ilc/v) far f/o.r Kw/>j:^^Arje refj/:}(/is. — The affirmations or 
 negations we make <:j(yn<xnnsi<i. the ideas we have, may, as I 
 have before intimated in general, be reduced to these four 
 sorts, viz., identity, co-existence, relation, and real existence. 
 I shall examine how h.T oiir knowledge extends in each of 
 these. 
 
 8. I. Our Xnofj;ledfje of I(]/!rfd\iy and Diversity, o^far as 
 our IdjefJM. — Fir-it, as to identity and diversity in this way of 
 agreement or di.sagreeroent of our ideas, our intuitive know- 
 ledge is as far extended as our ideat themselves; and there 
 can l>e no idea in the mind, which it does not presently, by 
 an intuitive knowledge, perceive to be what it is, and to be 
 different from any other. 
 
 9. II. Of (Jo-^yjriisl^ri/:ti, a very liMe Way. — Secondly, as to 
 the sec<'jnd sort, which is the agreement or di.sagreement of 
 our ideas in co-exLstence, in this our knowledge is very short, 
 though in this consists the greatest and most material part 
 of our knowledge concerning substances. For our ideas of 
 thr; sjKjcies of substances being, as I have showed, nothing 
 but c(j;rtain collections of simple ideas united in one subject, 
 arid »> co-existing together; v. g., our idea of flame is a body 
 hot, luminou.s, and moving upward; of gold, a body heavy 
 to a certain degree, yellow, malleable, and fusible; these, or 
 wnne such com{>lex ideas as these, in men's minds, do these 
 two names of the different substances, flame and gold, stand 
 for. When we would know anything further concerning 
 these, or any other sort of substances, what do we inquire, 
 bat what other qualities or power these substances have or 
 have not? Which is nothing else but to know what other 
 
 of any coniriion soul ; ami how far tho individuation doth continue. 
 And wliother Hoparatod from the Vjody, they operate in and by any other 
 vehicle, or without, and how ; and whether they take with them any of 
 their fiery natui-e a« a vehicle or a8 a conslitutive part. I shall know 
 how Oorl ])rodueeth houIh ; and how hiH production by emanation or 
 creation, doth coimiHt in generation ; and how forms are multiplied ; and 
 what cariHality the parents' soul hath to the jjroduction of the child. 
 VVhetlir;r by comiiiunicatiori of siibstance, or only by disfjosing the re- 
 cipient matter." (Dying Thoughts, p. Ibli ct seq.) — Ed.
 
 CHAP, in.] EXTENT OF HLStAX KXOWLEDGE. 149 
 
 simple ideas do or do not co-exist vrith those tliat make up 
 that complex idea. 
 
 10. Because the Gonnexiim Ittweai^ n^ogt sintpif Ideas is 
 
 unknoiriu — This, how vreighty and condderaWe a p\rt soever 
 of human science, is yet Tery narrow, and scarce any at alL 
 The reason whereof is, that the simple ideas whereof our 
 complex ideas of substances are made up are, for the most 
 part, such as carry with them, in their own nature, no 
 viable necessary coiinexion or inconsistency witJi any other 
 simple ideas, whose co-existence with them we would inform 
 ourselves about- 
 
 11. £specia^^i/ of secouJaru QuaUti€.s. — The ideas that our 
 complex ones of substances are made up of. and about which 
 our knowledge concerning substances is most employed, are 
 those of their seoondaiy qualities : which depending all (as 
 has been shown) upon the primary qualities of their minute 
 and insensible pans; or, if not upon them, upon something 
 yet more remote from our comprehension ; it is impossible 
 we should know which have a necessjiiy xiuion or incon- 
 sistency one with another : for not knowing the root they 
 spring from, not knowing what size, figuiv, and textuiv of 
 parts they are, on which depend and from which rosult those 
 qualities which make oiu' complex idea of gold, it is impos- 
 sible we shovdd know what other qualities result from or ai"e 
 incompatible with the same constitution of the insensible 
 parts of gold, and so consequently must always co-exist with 
 that complex idea Ave have of it, or else aro inconsistent 
 with it. 
 
 12. Because all ConneMon heticeeu any secondary and 
 prinuiry Qualities is undiscc'verable. — Besides this ignoi-ance 
 of the primary qualities of the iuseusible parts of bodies, on 
 which depend all their secondary qu;vlities, there is yet an- 
 other and more incuntble i^ai't of ignoi-auce, which sets us 
 more remote from a certaui knowledge of the co-existence or 
 inco-existence (if I may so say) of difteront idea^ in the 
 same subject ; and that is, that there is no disco veni bio con- 
 nexion between itny secoudaiy quidity and those primiu'v 
 qualities winch it depends on. 
 
 13. That the size, figui-e, and motion of one body should 
 cause a change in the size, figure, and motion of another 
 body, is not beyond our concei^tion ; the separation ot' the 
 parts of one body upon tlie intrusion of another ; and tlie
 
 150 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 chauge from rest to motion upon impulse : these and the 
 like seem to have some connexion one with another. And 
 if we knew these primary qualities of bodies, we might have 
 reason to hope Ave might be able to know a great deal more 
 of these operations of them one with another ; but our minds 
 not being able to discover any connexion betwixt these pri- 
 mary qualities of bodies and the sensations that are produced 
 in us by them, we can never be able to establish certain and 
 undoubted rules of the consequences or co-existence of any 
 secondary qualities, though we could discover the size, figure, 
 or motion of those invisible parts which immediately produce 
 them. We are so far from knowing what figure, size, or 
 motion of pai-ts produce a yellow colour, a sweet taste, or a 
 sharp sound, that we can by no means conceive how any 
 size, figure, or motion of any particles, can possibly produce 
 in us the idea of any colour, taste or sound whatsover ; there 
 is no conceivable connexion betwixt the one and the other. 
 
 14. In vain, therefore, shall we endeavour to discover by 
 our ideas (the only time way of certain and universal know- 
 ledge) what other ideas are to be fomid constantly joined 
 with that of our complex idea of any substance : since we 
 neither know the real constitution of the minute parts on 
 which their qualities do dejjend ; nor, did we know them, 
 could we discover any necessary connexion between them 
 and any of the secondary qualities ; which is necessaiy to be 
 done before we can certainly kuow their necessary co-exist- 
 ence. So, that, let our complex idea of any species of sub- 
 stances be what it will, we can hardly, from the simple ideas 
 Qontained in it, certainly determine the necessary co-exist- 
 ence of any other quality whatsoever. Our knowledge in all 
 these inquiries reaches very little fm-ther than our experience. 
 Indeed some few of the piimary qualities have a necessary 
 dependence and visible connexion one Avith another, as figui'c 
 necessarily supposes extension ; receiving or communicating 
 motion by impulse, supposes solidity. But though these and 
 perhaps some other of our ideas have, yet there are so few of 
 them that have a visible connexion one with another, that 
 we can by intuition or demonstration discover the co-exist- 
 ence of very few of the qualities tliat are to be found united 
 in substances ; and we arc left only to the assistance of our 
 senses to make known to us what (jualities they contain. For 
 of all the qualities that are co-existent in any subject, with-
 
 CHAP. III.] EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 151 
 
 out this dependence and evident connexion of their ideas one 
 with another, we cannot know cei-taiiily any two to co-exist 
 any fiu-ther than ex2>crieuce, by our senses, informs us. Thus, 
 though we see the yellow colour, and upon trial, find the 
 weight, malleableness, fusibility, and fixedness that are 
 united in a piece of gold ; yet because no one of these ideas 
 has any evident dependence or necessary connexion with the 
 other, we cannot certainly know that where any four of these 
 are, the fifth wUl be there also, how highly probable soever it 
 may be ; because the highest probability amomits not to cer- 
 tainty, without which there can be no true knowledge. For 
 this co-existence can be no further known than it is per- 
 ceived ; and it cannot be perceived but either in particular 
 subjects, by the observation of our senses, or, in general, by 
 the neces.sary connexion of the ideas themselves. 
 
 15. Of Repugnaticy to co-eadst, larger. — As to the incom- 
 patibility or repugnancy to co-existence, we may know, 
 that any subject may have of each sort of primary qualities 
 but one particular at once : v. g., each particular extension, 
 figure, niimber of parts, motion, excludes all other of each 
 kind. The like also is certain of all sensible ideas jieculiar 
 to each sense ; for whatever of each kind is present in any 
 subject, excludes all other of that soi-t : v. g., no one subject 
 can have two smells or two colours at the same time. To 
 this, jjerhaps will be said, Has not an opal, or the infusion of 
 lignum nephriticum, two colours at the same time ? To which 
 I answer, that these bodies, to eyes differently placed, may at 
 the same time afford different colours : but I take liberty 
 also to say, that, to eyes differently placed, it is different 
 parts of the object that reflect the particles of light : and 
 therefore it is not the same part of the object, and so not the 
 very same subject, which at the same time appears both 
 yellow and azure. For it is as impossible that the very same 
 particle of any body should at the same time differently 
 modify or reflect the rays of light, as that it should have two 
 different figures and textures at the same time.* 
 
 * Of this rare and beautiful stone Anselm Boetius de Boot, of Bniges, 
 physician to the Emperor Rudolph II., gives the following description; 
 — "Opalus gemma est omnium pulcherrima, meoque judicio omnibus 
 aliis preferenda non solum propter .summam ipsius of legantiam, dum 
 omuis generis colores, lucis rcflectione, in eadem parte ostentat (inest
 
 152 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. 
 
 IG. Of the Co-existence of Powers a very little Way. — I>ut 
 as to the powers of substances to change the sensible qualities 
 of other bodies, which make a great part of our inquiries 
 about them, and is no inconsiderable branch of our know- 
 ledge ; I doubt as to these, whether our knowledge reaches 
 much further than our experience ; or whether we can come 
 to the discovery of most of these powers, and be certain that 
 they are in any subject, by the connexion with any of those 
 ideas which to us make its essence. Because the active and 
 passive powers of bodies, and their ways of operating con- 
 sisting in a texture and motion of parts, which we cannot by 
 any means come to discover ; it is but in very few cases we 
 can be able to perceive their dependence on, or repugnance 
 to, any of those ideas which make our complex one of that 
 sort of things. I have here instanced in the corpuscularian 
 hypothesis, as that which is thought to go furthest in an 
 intelligible explication of those qualities of bodies ; and I 
 fear the weakness of human understanding is scarce able to 
 substitute another, which will afford us a fuller and clearer 
 
 enim illi carbunculi tenuior ignis, Amethysti fulgens purpura, Smaragdi 
 virens mare, et cuncta pariter incredibili mistura lucentia) verum etiam, 
 quia ut alife gemme adulterari nulla ratione potest. Si subjeceris eniiii 
 chrystallo varies colores illi in eodem loco herebunt, neque diversos pro 
 radiorum reflectione edent. Apparet in opalo, ceruleus, purpureus, 
 viriilis, flavus, et ruber, interdum niger, et albus, id est, lacteus. Non 
 videntur hi colores omnes inesse genime : quia si frangatur opalus 
 pereunt, ita ut taiitum ex reflectione unius, aut duorum coloruni colorum 
 oriri, (ut in iride apparet, et in triangulo chrystallino, in quo ex sola 
 lucis reflectione in angulos varii colores sese efferunt) putandum sit." 
 (Gemmarum et Lapidum Historia, 1. ii. c. 46. ) No less elegant is the 
 description which Mr. Mawe has given of this precious stone. ' ' The 
 colour of the opal is white or pearl grey ; and when held between the 
 eyes and the light is pale red or wine yellow, with a milky translucency. 
 By reflected light it exhibits, as its position is varied, elegant and most 
 irridescent colours, particularly emerald green, golden yellow, flame and 
 fire red, violet purple, and celestial blue, so beautifully blended and so 
 fascinating as to captivate the admirer. When the colour is arranged in 
 small spangles it takes the name of harlequin opal. Sometimes it exhibits 
 only one of the above colours ; and of them the most esteemed are the 
 civic emerald green, and the orange yellow. When the stone possesses 
 the latter of these colours it is called the Golden opal." (Treatise on 
 Diamonds, p. 123.) Hazelquist mentions an ancient opal, found in the 
 ruins of Alexandria, which "was of the size ofa hazel-nut in the form of a 
 half-globe, and set in a ring ; if it was held horizontally it had a very fine 
 olive colour, but if it was held perpendiculady between the eye and the 
 light it had the colour of the finest ruby." (Travels, &c. p. 273.) — Ed.
 
 CHAP. III.] EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 1.53 
 
 discovery of the necessary connexion and co-existence of the 
 powers which are to be observed united in several sorts of 
 them. This at least is certain, that, whichever hypothesis 
 be clearest and truest, (for of tluit it is not my business to 
 determine,) oui' knowledge concerning corporeal substances 
 will be veiy little advanced by any of them, till we are made 
 to see what qualities and powers of bodies have a necessary 
 connexion or repugnancy one witli another ; which in the 
 present state of philosophy I think we know but to a very 
 small degree : and I doubt whether, with those faculties we 
 have, we shall ever be able to carry our general knowledge 
 (I say not particular experience) in this part much fin-ther. 
 Experience is that which in this part we must depend on. 
 And it were to be wished that it were more improved. We 
 find the advantages some men's generous pains have this way 
 brought to the stock of natural knowledge. And if othei"s, 
 especially the philosophers by fire, who pretend to it, had 
 been so wary in their observations, and sincere in their 
 reports as those who call themselves philosophers ought to 
 liave been, our acquaintance with the bodies here about us, 
 and our insight into their powers and operations had been yet 
 much greater. * 
 
 17. Of Spirits yet narroioer. — If we are at a loss in respect 
 of tlie powers and oi^erations of bodies, I think it is easy to 
 conclude we are much more in the dark in reference to the 
 spirits; whereof we naturally have no ideas but what we 
 draw from that of our own, by reflecting on the operations 
 of our own soxds within us, as far as they can come within 
 our observation. But how inconsiderable a rank the spirits 
 that inhabit our bodies hold amongst those various and pos- 
 sibly innumerable kinds of nobler beings ; and how far short 
 they come of the endowments and perfections of cherubim 
 and seraphim, and infinite sorts of spirits above us, is what 
 by a transient hint in another place I have offered to my 
 reader's consideration. 
 
 18. III. Of other Relations it is not easy to say lioiii far. — 
 Thirdly, As to the third sort of our knowledge, viz., the 
 agreement or disagreement of any of our ideas in any other 
 relation : this, as it is the largest field of our knowledge, so 
 it is hard to determine how far it may extend; because the 
 
 * See Lord Bacon's New Atlantis, p. 253, et seq. — Ed.
 
 154 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 advances that are made in this part of knowledge depending 
 on our sagacity in finding intermediate ideas, that may show 
 the relations and habitixdes of ideas whose co-existence is not 
 considered, it is a hard matter to tell when we are at an end 
 of such discoveries ; and when reason has all the helps it is 
 capable of, for the finding of proofs, or examining the agree- 
 ment or disagreement of remote ideas. They that are igno- 
 rant of algebra cannot imagine the wonders in this kind are 
 to be done by it : and what further improvements and helps 
 advantageous to other parts of knowledge the sagacious mind 
 of man may yet find out, it is not easy to determine. This 
 at least I believe, that the ideas of quantity are not those 
 alone that are capable of demonstration and knowledge ; and 
 that other, and perhaps more useful parts of contemplation 
 would afibrd us certainty, if vices, passions, and domineering 
 interest did not oppose or menace such endeavours. 
 
 Morality capable of Demxmstration. — The idea of a supreme 
 Being, infinite in power, goodness, and wisdom, whose work- 
 manship we are, and on whom we depend ; and the idea of 
 ourselves, as understanding rational beings; being such as 
 are clear in us, would, I suppose, if duly considered and pur- 
 sued, afford such foundations of our duty and rules of action 
 as might place morality amongst the sciences capable of de- 
 monstration : wherein I doubt not but from self-evident })ro- 
 positions by necessary consequences, as incontestible as those 
 in mathematics, the measures of right and wrong might be 
 made out to any one that will apply himself with the same 
 indifFerency and attention to the one as he does to the other 
 of these sciences. The relation of other modes may certainly 
 be perceived, as well as those of number and extension : and 
 I cannot see why they should not also be capable of demon- 
 stration if due methods were thought on to examine or 
 pursue their agreement or disagreement. Where there is no 
 property there is no injiistice, is a proposition as certain as 
 any demonstration in Euclid : for the idea of property being 
 a right to anything, and the idea to which the name injustice 
 is given being the invasion or violation of that right,* it is 
 
 * This is an exceedingly narrow and imperfect view of justice, the 
 most complete theory of which is developed in the Republic of Plato. 
 There prevailed, however, extremely false notions of this virtue among 
 many ancient philosophers, one of whom defined it to be, obedience to
 
 CHAP, III.] EXTENT OF HUMAN EtNOWLEDGE. 155 
 
 evident that these ideas being thus established, and these 
 names annexed to them, I can as certainly know this jiro- 
 j)osition to be true, as that a triangle has three angles equal 
 to two right ones. Again : No government allows absolute 
 liberty; The idea of government being the establishment of 
 society upon certain niles or laws which requu-e conformity 
 to them, and the idea of absolute liberty being for any one 
 to do whatever he pleases, I am as capable of being certain of 
 the truth of this proposition as of any in the mathematics. 
 
 19. Two things have made moral Ideas to he thought inca- 
 ■pahle of Demonst/ration : tlieir Comjflexedness and Want of 
 sensible Representations. — That which in this respect has given 
 the advantage to the ideas of quantity, and made them thought 
 more capable of certainty and demonstration, is, 
 
 First, That they can be set down and represented by sen- 
 sible marks, which have a gi-eater and nearer correspondence 
 with them than any words or sounds whatsoever. Diagrams 
 drawn on paper are copies of the ideas in the mind, and not 
 liable to the uncertainty that words cany in their significa- 
 tion. An angle, circle, or square, drawn in lines, lies open 
 to the view, and cannot be mistaken : it remains unchange- 
 able, and may at leisure be considered and examined, and 
 the demonstration be revised, and all the parts of it may be 
 gone over more than once without any danger of the least 
 change in the ideas. This cannot be thus done in moral 
 ideas : we have no sensible marks that resemble them, 
 whereby we can set them down; we have nothing but words 
 to express them by; which, though when written they 
 
 rulers. ^^ A'lKaiov i<jTi ravra irouXv, o ol apxovreg irpoaira^av." But 
 if so, then certainly those philosophers were deluded dreamers, who sought 
 for eternal foundations for right and wrong. The government, accord- 
 ing to this maxim, is the creator of justice, and can never possibly do 
 wrong ; since, whatever it pleases to order or do, is just. The idea of 
 Pericles, however, respecting law, differed very little from the above. 
 " TravTeg ovtol vojioi daiv, ovg to TrXrjOog avvikdbv Ka'i SoKiftaaav 
 i.ypa(pt (ppat^ov a re Su Troitiv Kai li ^ir]." (Xen. Memor. 1. 1, c. 2, §42.) 
 Upon this view Horace had framed his idea of a virtuous man. 
 " Vir bonus est quis? 
 Qui consulta patrum, qui leges juraque scrvat," &c. 
 
 (Epist. b. i. 16, 40.) 
 The opinions of Democritus were somewhat loftier, though not perhaps 
 expressed with sufficient clearness : — A('/c»j ^'tv iariv, tpShv to. xp'H tovra ' 
 aSiKir) Si fii) tpciiv ra X(>>) tovra, dWd Trdc>a rpsTTOcrGat." (Stob. Gaisf. 
 XL, iv. 15.)— Ed.
 
 ISG OP ^ HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [liOOK IV. 
 
 remain the same, yet the ideas they stand for may change in 
 the same man, and it is very seldom that they are not 
 different in different persons. 
 
 Secondly, Another thing that makes the greater difficulty 
 in ethics is, that moral ideas are commonly more complex 
 than those of the figures ordinarily considered in mathe- 
 matics. From whence these two inconveniences follow: — 
 First, that their names are of more uncertain signification ; 
 the precise collection of simple ideas they stand for not being 
 so easily agreed on, and so the sign that is used for them in 
 communication always, and in thinking often, does not 
 steadily carry with it the same idea. Upon which the same 
 disorder, confusion, and error follow, as would if a man, 
 going to demonstrate something of an heptagon, should, in the 
 diagram he took to do it, leave out one of the angles, or by 
 oversight make the figure with one angle more than the name 
 ordinarily imported, or he intended it should when at first he 
 thought of his demonstration. This often happens, and is 
 hardly avoidable in very complex moral ideas, where the same 
 name being retained, one angle, i. e., one simple idea is left 
 out or put in the complex one (still called by the same name) 
 more at one time than another. Secondly, From the com- 
 plexedness of these moral ideas there follows another incon- 
 venience, viz., that the mind cannot easily retain those precise 
 combinations so exactly and perfectly as is necessary in the 
 examination of the habitudes and correspondences, agree- 
 ments or disagreements of several of them one with another ; 
 especially where it is to be judged of by long deductions, 
 and the intervention of several other complex ideas to show 
 the agreement or disagreement of two remote ones. 
 
 The gi-eat help against this which mathematicians find in 
 diagrams and figures, which remain unalterable in their 
 draughts, is very apparent, and the memory would often 
 have great difficulty otherwise to retain them so exactly, 
 whilst the mind went over the parts of them step by step 
 to examine their several correspondences. And though in 
 casting up a long sum either in addition, multiplication, or 
 division, every part be only a j^rogression of the mind taking 
 a view of its own ideas, and considering their agreement or 
 disagreement, and the resolution of the question be nothing 
 but the result of the whole, made up of such particulars,
 
 CHAP. III.] EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 157 
 
 whereof the niiud has a clear perception ; yet, witliout setting 
 down tlie several parts by marks, whose precise significations 
 are known, and by marks that last and remain in view when 
 the memor}'' had let them go, it would be almost impos.sible 
 to carry so many different ideas in the mind without con- 
 foimding or letting slip some parts of the reckoning, and 
 thereby making all our reasonings about it useless. In 
 which case the cyphers or marks help not the mind at all to 
 perceive the agreement of any two or more numbers, their 
 equalities or proportions ; that the mind has only by intuition 
 of its own ideas of the numbers themselves. But the nume- 
 rical characters are helps to the memory, to record and retain 
 the several ideas about which the demonstration is made, 
 whereby a man may know how far his intuitive knowledge 
 in surveying several of the particulars has proceeded; that 
 so he may without confusion go on to what is yet unknown, 
 and at last have in one view before him the result of all his 
 perceptions and reasonings. 
 
 20. Remedies of those Difficulties. — One part of these dis- 
 advantages in moral ideas which has made them be thought 
 not capable of demonstration, may in a good measure be 
 remedied by defijiitions, setting down that collection of 
 simple ideas,'"' which every term shall stand for, and then 
 using the terms steadily and constantly for that precise col- 
 lection. And what methods algebra or something of that 
 kind may hereafter suggest, to remove the other difficulties, 
 it is not easy to foretel. Confident I am, that, if men would 
 in the same method and with the same indifierency search 
 after moral as they do mathematical tnitlis, they would find 
 them have a stronger connexion one with another, and a 
 more necessary consequence from our clear and distinct ideas, 
 and to come nearer perfect demonstration than is commonly 
 imagined. But much of this is not to be expected whilst 
 the desire of esteem, riches, or jjower makes men espouse the 
 well-endowed opinions in fashion, and then seek arguments 
 either to make good their beauty, or varnish over and cover 
 their deformity: nothing being so beautiful to the eye as 
 
 * Cicero's notion of a definition, agreeing sub.stantially with that of 
 Loclse, is very clear and precise. " Est definitio, earum, rerum, quaj 
 sunt ejus rei propriae, quam definiro volumus, brevis et circumscripta 
 qusedam explicatio." (Dc Orat. 1. I. c. xlii. p. 77.) — Ed.
 
 158 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 truth is to the mind, nothing so deformed and irreconcilable 
 to the understanding as a lie. For though many a man 
 can with satisfaction enough own a no very handsome wife 
 in his bosom ; yet who is bold enough openly to avow, that 
 he has espoused a falsehood, and received into his breast so 
 ugly a thing as a lie? Whilst the parties of men cram their 
 tenets down all men's throats whom they can get into their 
 power, without ])ermittuig them to examine their truth or 
 falsehood, and will not let truth have fair play in the world, 
 nor men the liberty to search after it ; what improvements 
 can be expected of this kind? What greater light can be 
 hoped for in the moral sciences? The subject pai-t of man- 
 kind in most places might, instead thereof, with Egyptian 
 bondage expect Egyptian darkness, were not the candle of 
 the Lord set up by himself in men's minds, which it is 
 impossible for the breath or power of man wholly to ex- 
 tinguish. 
 
 21. Fourthly, Of real Existence: we Jiave an intuitive 
 Knowledge of our oion — demonstrative, of God's — sensitive, of 
 some few other things. — As to the fourth sort of our know- 
 ledge, viz., of the real actual existence of things, we have 
 an intuitive knowledge of our own existence, and a demon- 
 strative knowledge of the existence of a God ; of the existence 
 of anything else, we have no other but a sensitive knowledge, 
 which extends not beyond the objects present to our senses. 
 
 22. Our Ignorance great. — Om- knowledge being so narrow, 
 as I have shown, it will jierhaps give us some light into 
 the present state of oui* minds if we look a little into the 
 dark side, and take a view of our ignorance; which, being 
 intinitely larger than our knowledge, may serve much to 
 the quieting of disputes and improvement of useful know- 
 ledge; if discovering how far we have clear and distinct 
 ideas, we confine our thoughts within the contemplation of 
 those things that are within the reach of our understandings, 
 and lamich not out into that abyss of darkness, (where we 
 have not eyes to see, nor faculties to perceive anything,) out 
 of a presumption that nothing is beyond o.ur comprehension. 
 But to be satisfied of the folly of such a conceit, we need not 
 go far. He that knows anything, knows this, in the first 
 place, that he need not seek long for instances of his igno- 
 rance. The meanest and most obvious things that come in
 
 CHAP. III.] EXTENT OP HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 159 
 
 our way have dark sides, that the quickest sight cannot pene- 
 trate into. The clearest and most enlarged understandings 
 of thinking men find themselves puzzled and at a loss in 
 every particle of matter. We shall the less wonder to liud 
 it so, when we consider the causes of our ignorance ; which, 
 from what has been said, I suppose will be found to be 
 these three: — 
 
 First, Want of ideas. 
 
 Secondly, Want of a discoverable connexion between the 
 • ideas we have. 
 
 Thirdly, Want of tracing and examining our ideas. 
 
 ,23. First, One Caicse of it, Want of Ideas, eitloer such as loe 
 ha/ve no Conception of, or such as particularly v)e Juive not, — 
 First, There are some things, and those not a few, that we 
 are ignorant of, for want of ideas. 
 
 First, all the simple ideas we have, are confined (as I have 
 shown) to those we receive from corporeal objects by sen- 
 sation, and from the operations of our own miuds as the 
 objects of reflection. But how much these few and narrow 
 inlets are disproportionate to the vast whole extent of all 
 beings, will not be hard to persuade those who are not so 
 foolish as to think their span the measui'e of all things. 
 What other simple ideas it is possible the creatures in other 
 parts of the universe may have, by the assistance of senses 
 and Acuities more or perfecter than we have, or different 
 from ours, it is not for us to determine. But to say or 
 think there are no such, because we conceive nothing of 
 them, is no better an argument than if a blind man should 
 be positive in it, that there was no such thing as sight and 
 colours, because he had no manner of idea of any such thing, 
 nor could by any means frame to himself any notions about 
 seeing. The ignorance and darkness that is in us no more 
 hinders nor confines the knowledge that is in others, than 
 the blindness of a mole* is an argument against the quick- 
 sightedness of an eagle. He that will consider the infinite 
 
 * This is a received eiTor ; but in point of fact, the common mole ig 
 not blind, though its eyes are small and dim, suited to the exigencies of 
 its peculiar state of existence. Aristotle describes the mole as blind, for 
 which he was long ridiculed by witty and unphilosophical naturalists, 
 until it was at length discovered that the peculiar species of mole found 
 in Greece is actually in the condition described by Aiistotle and m the 
 text. — Ed.
 
 IGU OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 1)0 wer, wisdora, and goodness of the Creator of all things 
 will find reason to think it was not all laid ont upon so 
 inconsiderable, mean, and impotent a creature as he will find 
 man to be, who in all probability is one of the lowest of all 
 intellectual beings. What faculties, therefore, other species 
 of creatures have to penetrate into the nature and inmost 
 constitutions of things, what ideas they may receive of them 
 far different from ours, we know not. This we know and 
 certainly find, that we want several other views of them 
 besides those we have, to make discoveries of them more per- 
 fect. And we may be convinced that the ideas we can attain 
 to by our faculties are very disproportionate to things them- 
 selves, when a positive, clear, distinct one of substance itself, 
 which is the foimdation of all the rest, is concealed from 
 us. But want of ideas of this kind being a part as well as 
 cause of our ignorance, cannot be described. Only this I 
 think I may confidently say of it, that the intellectual and 
 sensible world are in this perfectly alike; that that part 
 which we see of either of them holds no proportion with 
 what we see not; and whatsoever we can reach with our 
 eyes or our thoughts of either of them is but a point, almost 
 nothing in comparison of the rest. 
 
 24. Because of their Remoteness; or, — Secondly, Another 
 great cause of ignorance is the want of ideas we are capable 
 of As the want of ideas, which our faculties are not able 
 to give us, shuts us wholly from those views of things which 
 it is reasonable to think other beings, perfecter than we, 
 have, of which we know nothing; so the want of ideas I 
 now speak of keeps us in ignorance of things we conceive 
 capable of being known to us. Bulk, figure, and motion we 
 have ideas of But though we are not without ideas of these 
 primary qualities of bodies in general, yet not knowing what 
 is the particular bulk, figure, and motion, of the greatest part 
 of the bodies of the universe, we are ignorant of the several 
 powers, efiicacies, and ways of operation, whereby the efiects 
 which we daily see are produced. These are hid from us in 
 some things by being too remote, and in others by being too 
 minute. When we consider the vast distance of the known 
 and visible parts of the world, and the reasons we have to 
 think that what lies within our ken is but a small part of 
 the universe, we shall then discover a huge abyss of igno-
 
 CHAP. III.] EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 161 
 
 ranee. What are the particular fabrics of the gi'eat masses 
 of matter which make uj) the whole stupendous frame of cor- 
 poreal beings, how far they are extended, what is their 
 motion, and how continued or communicated, and what 
 influence they have one upon another, are contemplations 
 that at first glimpse our thoughts lose themselves in. If we 
 narrow our contemplations and confine our thoughts to this 
 little canton — I mean this system of our sun, and the grosser 
 masses of matter that visibly move about it — what several 
 sorts of vegetables, animals, and intellectual corporeal beings, 
 infinitely different from those of our little spot of earth, may 
 there probably be in the other planets, to the knowledge of 
 which — ^even of their outward figures and parts — we can 
 no wa}' attain whilst we are confined to this earth; there 
 being no natural means, either by sensation or reflection, to 
 convey their certain ideas into our minds ! They are out of 
 the reach of those inlets of all our knowledge: and what 
 sorts of fimiitm-e and inhabitants those mansions contain in 
 them we cannot so much as guess, much less have clear and 
 distinct ideas of them. 
 
 25. Because of their Minuteness. — If a great, nay, far the 
 greatest part of the several ranks of bodies in the universe 
 escape our notice by their remoteness, there are others that 
 are no less concealed from us by their minuteness. These 
 insensible corpuscles being the active parts of matter and 
 the great instruments of nature, on which depend not only 
 all their secondary qualities, but also most of their natural 
 operations, our want of precise distinct ideas'of their primary 
 qualities keej^s us in an incurable ignorance of what we desu-e 
 to know about them. I doubt not but if we could discover 
 the figure, size, texture, and motion of the minute constituent 
 parts of any two bodies, we should know without trial seve- 
 ral of their operations one upon another, as we do now the 
 properties of a square or a triangle. Did we know the me- 
 chanical afiections of the particles of rhubarb, hemlock, opium, 
 and a man, as a watchmaker does those of a watch, whereby 
 it performs its operations, and of a file, which by nibbing on 
 them will alter the figm-e of any of the wheels, we should l;e 
 able to tell beforehand that rhubarb will purge, hemlock kill, 
 and opium make a man sleep; as well as a watchmaker can 
 that a little piece of paper laid on the balance will keep the 
 
 VOL. II. M
 
 1G2 OF HUilAN UNDERSTANDING. ' [bOOK IV. 
 
 watch from going, till it be removed; or that, some small 
 part of it being mbbed by a file, the machine would quite 
 lose its motion, and the watch go no more. The dissolving 
 of silver in aqua fortis, and gold in aqua regia, and not vice 
 versa, would be then perhaps no more diihcult to know than 
 it is to a smith to understand why the turning of one key 
 will open a lock, and not the turning of another. But 
 whilst we are destitute of senses acute enough to discover 
 the minute particles of bodies, and to give us ideas of their 
 mechanical affections, we must be content to be ignorant of 
 their properties and ways of operation; nor can we be as- 
 sured about them any further than some few trials we make 
 are able to reach. But whether they will succeed again 
 another time, we cannot be certain.* This hinders our 
 certain knowledge of universal truths concerning natural 
 bodies : and our reason carries us herein very little beyond 
 particular matter of fact. 
 
 26. Hence no Science of Bodies. — And therefore 1 am apt 
 to doubt that, how far soever human industiy may advance 
 iiseful and experimental philosophy in physical things, 
 scientifical will still be out of oiir reach; because we want 
 perfect and adequate ideas of those very bodies which are 
 nearest to us, and most under our command. Those which 
 we have ranked into classes mider names, and we think our- 
 selves best acquainted with, we have but very imperfect and 
 incomplete ideas of Distinct ideas of the several sorts of 
 bodies that fall under the examination of our senses perhaps 
 we may have : btit adequate ideas, T suspect, we have not of 
 any one amongst them. And though the former of these 
 will serve us for common use and discourse, yet whilst we 
 want the latter, we are not capable of scientifical knowledge ; 
 nor shall ever be able to discover general, instructive, un- 
 questionable truths concerning them. Certainty and demon- 
 stration are tilings we must not, in these matters, pretend to. 
 By the colour, figure, taste, and smell, and other sensible 
 qualities, we have as clear and distinct ideas of sage and 
 hemlock, as we have of a circle and a triangle ; but having 
 no ideas of the pai-ticular primary qualities of the minute 
 jjarts of either of these plants, nor of other bodies which we 
 would apply them to, we cannot tell what effects they will 
 * See Hume's Essay on Necessary Connexion. — Ed.
 
 CUAP. III.] EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 1G3 
 
 produce ; nor when we see those effects can we so much as 
 guess, much less know, their manner of production. Thus, 
 having no ideas of the particidar mechanical affections of the 
 minute parts of bodies that are within our view and reacli, 
 we are ignorant of their constitutions, jjowers, and operations : 
 and of bodies more remote we are yet more ignorant, not 
 knowing so much as their vexy outward shapes, or the sen- 
 sible and grosser parts of their constitutions. 
 
 27. Much less of Spirits. — This at first will show us how 
 dispi'oportionate our knowledge is to the whole extent even 
 of material beings; to which if we add the consideration of 
 that infinite number of spirits that may be, and probably 
 are, which are yet more remote from our knowledge, whereof 
 we have no cognizance, nor can frame to ourselves any dis- 
 tinct ideas of their several ranks and sorts, we shall find this 
 cause of ignorance conceal from us, in an impenetrable ob- 
 scurity, almost the whole intellectual world; a greater, cer- 
 tainly, and more beautiful world than the material. For, 
 bating some very few, and those, if I may so call them, 
 superficial ideas of spirit, which by reflection we get of oui' 
 own, and from thence the best we can collect of the Father 
 of all spirits, the eternal independent Author of them, and 
 us, and all things, we have no certain information, so mucli 
 as of the existence of other spirits, but by revelation. Angels 
 of all sorts are naturally beyond our discovery; and all those 
 intelligences, whereof it is likely there are more orders than 
 of corporeal substances, are things whereof our natural facili- 
 ties give us no certain account at all. That there are minds 
 and thinking beings in other men as well as himself, every 
 man has a reason, from their words and actions, to be satisfied : 
 and the knowledge of his own mind cannot suffer a man that 
 considers, to be ignorant that thei"e is a God. But that 
 there are degrees of spiritual beings between us and the 
 great God, who is there, that, by his own search and ability, 
 can come to know? Much less have we distinct ideas of 
 their different natures, conditions, states, powers, and several 
 constitutions wherein they agree or differ from one another 
 and from us. And, therefore, in what concerns their different 
 species and properties we are in absolute ignorance.* 
 
 * This is evidently directed against that part of the Cartesian system, 
 which pretends to discuss the nature of angels. It even appears to have 
 
 M 2
 
 164 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 28. Secondly, Want of a discoverable Ccmnexion between 
 Ideas we have. — Secoudly, What a small part of the sub- 
 been imagined by those bold speculators, that some approximation can be 
 'made towards ascertaining the numbers of the heavenly hosts, of which 
 philosophical calculation take the following example from Antoine Le 
 Grand: — "Talmudista; Angelos ad certum quEedam numerum redigunt, 
 eos per turmas distribuendo, et cuique earum suoa veluti milites assig- 
 nando. Quippe secundum E. P. Georgium Venetum ex ordine S. Fran- 
 cisci, distinguunt Talmudistse Angelorum exercitus inMazaloth, El,Ligion, 
 Rihaton, Chirton, Gistera, Mazaloth autem dicunt esse duodecim, juxta 
 duodecim signa Zodiaci. El ver6 dicunt esse cohortes triginta, pro quo- 
 libet illorum duodecim. Unde sunt in numero trecentse sexginta Ange- 
 lorum cohortes Legion autem multiplicat ilium numerum trecentorum 
 sexaginta per triginta. Unde resultat numerus decern mUIium et octin- 
 gentorum. Et hunc numerum ipsi Talmudistse multiplicaut pariter per 
 triginta : et sic fit Rihaton constans ex noningentis mULium millibus et 
 septuaginta duobus millibus. Et hunc nimierum pari modo per triginta 
 multiplicant, unde resultat Gistera, constans ex ducentis nonaginta et 
 uno mUlium mUlibus, et sexcentis millibus. Quorum omnium simima, 
 est trecenta et unum millium rmllia, sexcenta et quinquaginta quinque 
 millia, centum et septuaginta duo ; ut ex subjecta Tabella patet. 
 12 Mazaloth. 
 360 El. 
 10,800 Ligion. 
 324,000 Rihaton. 
 9,720,000 Chirton. 
 291,600,000 Gistera. 
 301,655,172 Angelorum Cohortes simul. 
 
 (Institut. Phil. Part III. art. vi. § 4.) 
 This is a part of philosophy which has been cultivated with singular 
 perseverance by the Orientals, whose acquaintance with angels and 
 devils has consequently been much more intimate than that of any na- 
 tion in the West. Thus we find that, " Some of the Sabaeans worshipped 
 devils, believing they had the shapes of goats, and therefore called them 
 ^ Seirim. On the contrary, the Levitical law prohibited to offer sacrifices 
 to Seirim and to goats, that is to say, devils, appearing in the form of 
 goats. (Levit. xvii. 7-) Though they did abominate blood, as a thing 
 exceedingly detestable, yet they did eat it, believing it to be the food of 
 daemons, and that he that did eat of it should become a brother, or intimate 
 acquaintance of the daemons, insomuch that they would come to him, and 
 tell him future events, prohibited." (Lev. xvii. 10 — 23 ; Stanley's Hist, of 
 Philosophy, c. ii.) Among the ancient magi of Persia, the orders, powers, 
 and distributions of the inhabitants of the spiritual world constituted a 
 favourite object of study; and even from the fragments of their system 
 which have been transmitted to us, we perceive how great was their fami- 
 liarity with the subjects of Ormuzd and Ahriman. ' ' On y remarque trois 
 ordres d'esprits, d'abord les sept Amschaspands, esprits dou^s d'immor- 
 talit^, puis les vingt-huit Izeds, et en dernier lieu les innombrables 
 Fervers. Ormuzd, maltre du monde, est le cr^ateur et le premier des 
 Amschaspands ; Bahman, chef des autres, est le second, et le roi dc 
 lumiere; le troisifeme est Ardibehescht, I'esprit du feu, qui donne le feu
 
 CHAP. III.] EXTENT OF IIUM^VN KNOWLEDGE. 165 
 
 stantial beings that are in the universe the want of ideas 
 leaves open to our knowledge, we have seen. In the next 
 place, another cause of ignorance, of no less moment, is a 
 want of a discoverable connexion between those ideas we 
 have. For wherever we want that, we are uttei-ly incai)able 
 of universal and certain knowledge; and are, in the former 
 case, left only to obseiwation and expeiiment : which, hoAv 
 nari'ow and confined it is, how far from general knowledge 
 we need not be told. I shall give some few instances of 
 this cause of our ignorance, and so leave it. It is evident 
 
 et la vie, le quatrifeme, Schahriver, roi des m^taux; puis vient Sapan- 
 domad, fille d'Ormuzd, et mfere des premiers fetres humains Mei3chia et 
 Meschiane; ensuite Khordad, roi des saisons, desmois, des ann^es, et des 
 jours, qui donne au pur I'eau de puret^; et le dernier de tous, Anierdad, 
 crdateur et protecteur des arbres, des moissons, des troupeaux. Les 
 Izeds, g^nies inf^rieures, ont 4t6 cr^es par Ormuzd pour verser les bene- 
 dictions sur le monde, et pour voiller siir le peuple des purs. Les mois, 
 les jours, les divisions meme du jour, et les elemens sont places sous la 
 protection et sous la garde des Ainschaspands et des Izeds. Chacun des 
 Amschaspands a son cortege d' Izeds, qui le servent corame les Amschas- 
 pands eux-memes servent Onnuzd. Les Izeds sont les uns mdles et les 
 autres femelles. Parmi eux tigurent Mitlira, ou Meher, qui donne h la 
 terre le bienfait du jour, et independamment de lui, Korschid, le soleil. 
 Les Fervers sont les id^es, les prototypes, les modyes de tous les etres, 
 formees de I'essence d'Ormuzd, et les plus pures emanations de cette 
 essence. lis existent par la parole vivante du cr^ateur, aussi sont-ils 
 immortels, et par eux tout vit dans la nature. lis sont plac^es au ciel 
 comme des sentineUes vigilantes contre Ahriman, et portent h Ormuzd 
 les priferes des hommes pieux, qu'ils prot^gent et punissent de tout mal. 
 Sur la terre, unis k des corps, Us combattent sans cesse les mauvais 
 esprits. lis sont aussi nombreux et aussi diversifies dans leurs espfece 
 que les 6tres eux-memes." Of the angels of darkness, who formed an 
 exact counterpart to the above, we have the following accoimt : " La 
 royaume d' Ahriman corresponde en tout h celui d'Ormuzd. hh, aussi se 
 trouvent sept Devs sup^rieurs, Ahiiman y compris, et h leur suite un 
 nombre infini de Devs inferieui's. lis ont 4t4 produits par Ahriman, 
 aprfes sa chute, et faits k son image pour la destruction du royaume 
 d'Ormuzd. Celui-ci ayant cr46 le monde de lumifere, Ahriman vint du 
 sud, se mSla, aux plan fetes, p^n^tra dans les etoUes fixes, et cr^a le 
 prince des devs, Eschem, le d^mon de Ten vie, arm^ de sept tetes, et 
 I'adversaire de Serosch, c' est- k- dire, d'Ormuzd, prince de la terre. Main- 
 tenant s'ouvre la lutte, et de meme que, sur la terre, I'animal combat 
 I'animal, de m6me, dans le monde des esprits, I'esprit combat I'esprit. 
 Chacun des sept grands devs a son rival dans I'un des sept Amschas- 
 pands; chacun d'eux est I'auteur d'un mal ou d'vm vice particulier." 
 (Creuzes. Relig. de 1' Antiquity 1. ii. c. 2. Compare with the above the 
 notes of Guigniaut, Part ii. p. 701, et seq. ; and the account of Father 
 Rhode, p. 178, etseq.)— Ed.
 
 166 OF HUMAN UNDEESTAJTOING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 that the bulk, figure, and motion of several bodies about 
 us produce in us several sensations, as of colours, sounds, tastes, 
 smells, pleasure, and pain, &c. These mechanical afiections 
 of bodies having no affinity at all with those ideas they pro- 
 duce in us, (there being no conceivable connexion between 
 any impulse of any sort of body and any perception of a 
 colour or smell which we find in our minds,) we can have 
 no distinct knowledge of such operations beyond our ex- 
 pei-ience; and can reason no otherwise about them, than as 
 effects produced by the appointment of an infinitely wise 
 Agent, which ^^erfectly surpass our comprehensions. As the 
 ideas of sensible secondaiy qualitieswhichwe have in our minds, 
 can by us be no way deduced from bodily causes, nor any 
 coiTespondence or connexion be found between them and 
 those primary qualities which (experience shows us) produce 
 them in us ; so, on the other side, the operation of our minds 
 upon our bodies is as inconceivable. How any thought 
 should produce a motion in body is as remote from the nature 
 of our ideas, as how any body should produce any thought 
 in the mind. That it is so, if experience did not convince 
 us, the consideration of the things themselves would never 
 be able in the least to discover to us. These and the Like, 
 though they have a constant and regular connexion in the 
 ordinary course of things; yet that connexion being not 
 discoverable in the ideas themselves, which appearing to have 
 no necessary dependence one on another, we can attribute their 
 connexion to nothing else but the arbitrary determination 
 of that all-wise Agent who has made them to be, and to 
 operate as they do, in a way wholly above our weak under- 
 standings to conceive. 
 
 29. Instances. — In some of our ideas there are certain re- 
 lations, habitudes, and connexions, so visibly included in the 
 nature of the ideas themselves, that we cannot conceive them 
 separable from them by any power whatsoever; and in these 
 only we are capable of certain and universal knowledge. 
 Thus the idea of a right-lined triangle necessarily carries 
 with it an equality of its angles to two right ones. Nor 
 c^n we conceive this relation, this connexion of these two 
 ideas, to be possibly mutable, or to depend on any arbiti-ary 
 power, which of choice made it thus, or could make it other- 
 wise. But the coherence and continuity of the parts of
 
 CHAP. III.] EXTENT OF HUMAX KNOWLEDGE. 167 
 
 matter; the production of sensation in us of colours and 
 sounds, &c., by impulse and motion; nay, the original rules 
 and communication of motion bemg such, wherein we can 
 discover no natural connexion with any ideas we have, we 
 cannot but ascribe them to the arbitrary will and good plea- 
 sure of the wise Architect. I need not, I think, here men- 
 tion the resurrection of the dead, the futiare state of this 
 globe of eai-th, and such other things, which are by every 
 one acknowledged to depend wholly on the determination 
 of a free agent. The things that, as far as our observation 
 reaches, we constantly find to proceed regularly, we may 
 conclude do act by a law set them ; but yet by a law that 
 we know not : whereby, though cavises work steadily, and 
 effects constantly flow fi-om them, yet their connexions and 
 dependencies being not discoverable in our ideas, we can 
 have but an experimental knowledge of them.* From all 
 which it is easy to perceive what a darkness we are involved 
 in, how little it is of being, and the things that are, that we 
 are capable to know, and therefore we shall do no injury 
 to our knowledge, when we modestly think with ourselves, 
 that we are so far from being able to comprehend the 
 whole nature of the universe, and all the things contained 
 in it, that we are not capable of a philosophical knowledge 
 of the bodies that are about us, and make a part of us : con- 
 cerning their secondary qualities, powers, and operations, 
 we can have no universal certainty. Several effects come 
 every day within the notice of our senses, of which we have 
 so far sensitive knowledge; but the causes, manner, and 
 certainty of their production, for the two foregoing reasons, 
 we must be content to be very ignorant of. In these we 
 can go no further than particular experience informs us of 
 matter of fact, and by analogy to guess what eflfects the like 
 bodies are, upon other trials, like to produce. But as to a 
 perfect science of natural bodies, (not to mention spiritual 
 beings,) we are, I think, so far from being capable of any 
 such thing, that I conclude it lost labour to seek after it. 
 
 30. III. Want of Tracing our Ideas. — Thirdly, Where we 
 have adequate ideas, and where there is a certain and dis- 
 coverable connexion between them, yet we are often ignorant, 
 for want of tracing those ideas which we have or may have ; 
 * See Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, 1. 1, § 3. — Ed.
 
 168 OF HUMAN UNDERSTA>-DING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 and for waDt of finding out those intermediate ideas, wliich 
 may show us what habitude of agreement or disagreement 
 they have one with another : and thus many are ignorant 
 of mathematical truths, not out of any imperfection of their 
 faculties, or uncertainty in the things themselves, but for 
 want of ajjplication in acquiring, examining, and by due 
 ways comparing those ideas. That which has most contri- 
 buted to hinder the due tracing of our ideas, and finding 
 out their relations, and agi'eements or disagreements one 
 with another, has been, I suppose, the iU use of words. It 
 is impossible that men should ever truly seek or certainly 
 discover the agreement or disagreement of ideas themselves, 
 whilst their thoughts flutter about, or stick only in sounds 
 of doubtful and uncertain significations. Mathematicians 
 abstracting their thoughts from names, and accustoming 
 themselves to set before their minds the ideas themselves 
 that they would consider, and not sounds instead of them, 
 have avoided thereby a great part of that perplexity, pud- 
 dering, and confusion, which has so much hindered men's 
 progress in other parts of knowledge. For whilst they stick 
 in words of undetermined and uncertain signification, they 
 are unable to distinguish true from false, certain from pro- 
 bable, consistent from inconsistent, in their own opinions. 
 This having been the fate or misfortune of a great part of 
 men of letters, the increase brought into the stock of real 
 knowledge has been very little, in proportion to the schools, 
 disjjutes, and writings the world has been filled with; whilst 
 students, being lost in the great wood of words, knew not 
 "whereabouts they were, how far their discoveries were ad- 
 vanced, or what was wanting in their own or the general 
 stock of knowledge. Had men, in the discoveries of the 
 material, done as they have in those of the intellectual world, 
 involved all in the obscurity of uncertain and doubtful ways 
 of talking, vobimes writ of navigation and voyages, theories 
 and stories of zones and tides, multiplied and disputed ; nay, 
 ships built, and fleets sent out, would never have taught us 
 the way beyond the line; and the Antipodes would be stiU 
 as much unknown, as when it was declared heresy to hold 
 there were any.* But having spoken sufficiently of words, 
 
 * " Autrefois on se moquoit de quelques philosophes qui dissent qu'il 
 y avoit des Antipodes ; quel est rhomme assez insens^ disoit Lactance,
 
 CHAP. IV.] REALITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 169 
 
 and the ill or careless use that is commonly made of them, 
 I shall not say anything more of it here. 
 
 31. Extent in respect to Universality. — Hitherto we have 
 examined the extent of our knowledge, in respect of the 
 several sorts of beings that are. There is another extent of 
 it, in respect of universality, which will also deserve to be 
 considered ; and in this regard, our knowledge follows the 
 nature of our ideas. If the ideas are abstract, whose agree- 
 ment or disagreement we perceive, our knowledge is uni- 
 versal. For what is known of such general ideas, wHl be 
 true of every particular thing in whom that essence, i. e., that 
 abstract idea, is to be found ; and what is once known of such 
 ideas, will be perpetually and for ever trvte. So that as to 
 all general knowledge we must search and find it only in our 
 minds, and it is only the examining of our own ideas that 
 fuinisheth us' with that. Truths belonging to essences of 
 things (that is, to abstract ideas) are eternal, and are to be 
 found out by the contemplation only of those essences, as the 
 existences of things are to be known only from experience. 
 But having more to say of this in the chapters where I shall 
 speak of general and real knowledge, this may here suffice as 
 to the universality of our knowledge in general. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF THE REALITY OF KNOWLEDGK 
 
 1. Objection. Knowledge placed in Ideas may he all bare 
 Vision. — I DOUBT not but my reader, by this time, may be 
 apt to think that I have been all this whUe only building a 
 castle in the air ; and be ready to say to me, " To what 
 purjjose all this stir ? Knowledge, say you, is only the per- 
 ception of the agreement or disagreement of our own 
 ideas : but who knows what those ideas may be 1 Is there 
 anything so extravagant as the imaginations of men's brains 1 
 Where is the head that has no chimeras in it ? Or if there 
 be a sober and a wise man, what difference will there be, by 
 
 (1. 3, ch. 23,) pour croire qn'il y a des homines dont les pieds sont plus 
 elev^s que la tete ? " (Du Marsais Logique, Art. XIII. Soph. VI. p. 88.) 
 —Ed.
 
 170 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 your rules, between his knowledge and that of the most 
 extravagant fancy in the world 1 They both have their ideas, 
 and perceive their agreement and disagreement one with 
 another. If there be any difference between them, the ad- 
 vantage will be on the warm-headed man's side, as having 
 the more ideas, and the more Lively ; and so, by your rules, 
 he will be the more knowing. If it be true, that all know- 
 ledge lies only in the perception of the agreement or disagree- 
 ment of our own ideas, the visions of an enthusiast and the 
 reasonings of a sober man will be equally certain. It is no 
 matter how things are, so a man observe but the agreement 
 of his own imaginations, and talk conformably, it is all truth, 
 all certainty. Such castles in the air will be as strongholds 
 of truth, as the demonstrations of Euclid. That an harpy 
 is not a centaur is by this way as certain knowledge, and as 
 much a truth, as that a square is not a circle. • 
 
 " But of what use is all this fine knowledge of men's own 
 imaginations, to a man thai inquires after the reality of 
 things ? It matters not what men's fancies are, it is the 
 knowledge of things that is only to be prized ; it is this 
 alone gives a value to ova' reasonings, and preference to one 
 man's knowledge over another's, that it is of things as they 
 really are, and not of dreams and fancies." 
 
 2. Answer. Not so, where Ideas agree with Thmgs. — To 
 which I answer, that if our knowledge of our ideas terminate 
 in them, and reach no further, where there is something 
 further intended, our most serious thoughts will be of little 
 more use than the reveries of a crazy brain ; and the truths 
 built thereon of no more weight than the discourses of a man, 
 who sees things clearly in a di-eam, and with great assurance 
 utters them. But I hope, before I have done, to make it 
 evident that this way of certainty, by the knowledge of our 
 own ideas, goes a little further than bare imagination ; and I 
 believe it will appear that all the certainty of general truths 
 a man has lies in nothing else. 
 
 3. It is evident the mind knows not things immediately, 
 but only by the intervention of the ideas it has of them. Our 
 knowledge, therefore, is real only so far as there is a con- 
 formity between our ideas and the reality of things. But 
 what shall be here the criterion? How shall the mind, 
 when it perceives nothing but its own ideas, know that they
 
 CHAP. IV.] REALITY OF KN'OWLEDGE, 171 
 
 agree with things themselves'? This, though it seems not to 
 want difficulty, yet, I think, there be two sorts of ideas that 
 we may be assured agree with things. 
 
 4. As, I. All simple Ideas do. — Firet, The first are simple 
 ideas, which since the mind, as has been showed, can by no 
 means make to itself, must necessarily be the product of 
 things operating on the min d in a natural way, and pro- 
 ducing therein those perceptions which by the wisdom and 
 will of our Maker they are ordained and adapted to. From 
 whence it follows, that simple ideas are not fictions of our 
 fancies, but the natui'al and regular productions of things 
 without us, really operating upon us, and so cany with them 
 all the conformity which is intended, or which our state 
 requires ; for they represent to us things under those appear- 
 ances which they are fitted to produce in us, whereby we are 
 enabled to distinguish the sorts of particular substances, to 
 discern the states they are in, and so to take them for onr 
 necessities, and to apply them to our uses. Thus the idea of 
 whiteness or bitterness, as it is in the mind, exactly answer- 
 ing that power which is in any body to produce it there, 
 has all the real conformity it can or ought to have, 
 with things without us. And this conformity between our 
 simple ideas and the existence of things, is sufficient for real 
 knowledge. 
 
 5. II. All complex Ideas, except of Substances. — Secondly, 
 All our complex ideas, except those of substances, being 
 archetypes of the mind's own making, not intended to be 
 the copies of anything, nor referred to the existence of any- 
 thing, as to their originals, cannot want any conformity neces- 
 sary to real knowledge. For that which is not designed to 
 I'epresent anything but itself, can never be capable of a 
 wrong representation, nor mislead us from the true appre- 
 hension of anything by its dislikeness to it ; and such, ex- 
 cepting those of substances, are all our complex ideas, which, 
 as I have showed in another place, are combbiations of ideas, 
 which the mind, by its free choice, puts together, without 
 considering any connexion they have in nature. And hence 
 it is, that in all these sorts the ideas themselves are con- 
 sidered as the archetypes, and things no otherwise regarded, 
 but as they are conformable to them. So that we cannot 
 but be infallibly certain, that all the knowledge we attain con-
 
 172 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 ceming these ideas is real, and readies things themselves; 
 because in all our thoughts, reasonings, and discourses of 
 this kind, we intend things no further than as they are 
 conformable to our ideas. So that in these we cannot miss 
 of a certain and undoubted reality. 
 
 6. Hence the Reality of Matliematical Knowledge. — I doubt 
 not but it will be easily granted, that the knowledge we have 
 of mathematical truths is not only certain, but real know- 
 ledge; and not the bare empty vision of vain, insignificant 
 chimeras of the brain; and yet, if we will considei', we shall 
 find that it is only of our own ideas. The mathematician 
 considers the truth and properties belonging to a rectangle 
 or circle only as they are in idea in his own mind. For it is 
 possible he never found either of them existing mathemati- 
 cally, i. e., precisely true, in his life. But yet the knowledge 
 he has of any truths or properties belonging to a circle, or 
 any other mathematical figure, are nevertheless true and 
 certain, even of real things existing; because real things are 
 no further concerned, nor intended to be meant by any such 
 propositions, than as things really agree to those arche- 
 types in his mind. Is it true of the idea of a triangle, that 
 its three angles are equal to two right ones? It is true also 
 of a triangle, wherever it really exists. Whatever other 
 figure exists, that is not exactly answerable to the idea of a 
 triangle in his mind, is not at all concerned in that jDro- 
 position; and therefore he is certain all his knowledge con- 
 cerning such ideas is real knowledge; because, intending 
 things no further than they agree with those his ideas, he is 
 
 ' sure what 'he knows concerning those figures, when they have 
 barely an ideal existence in his mind, wUl hold true of them 
 also when they have real existence in matter; his considera- 
 tion being barely of those figures which are the same, 
 wherever or however they exist. 
 
 7. And of Moral. — And hence it follows that moral know- 
 ledge is as capable of real certainty as mathemati cs ; for 
 certainty being but the perception of the agreement or 
 disagreement of our ideas, and demonstration nothing but 
 the perception of such agreement, by the intervention of 
 other ideas or mediums ; our moral ideas, as well as mathe- 
 matical,' being archetypes themselves, and so adequate and 
 complete ideas, all the agreement or disagi-eement which we
 
 CHAP. IV.] REALITY OP KNOWLEDGE. 173 
 
 shall find in them will produce real knowledge, as well as in 
 mathematical figures. 
 
 8. Existence not required to malce it real. — For the attain- 
 ing of knowledge and cei'tainty, it is requisite that we have 
 determined ideas; and, to make our knowledge real, it is 
 requisite that the ideas answer their archetypes. Nor let it 
 be wondered, that I place the certainty of our knowledge in 
 the consideration of oui- ideas, with so little care and regard 
 (as it may seem) to the real existence of things; since most 
 of those discourses which take up the thoughts and engage 
 the disjDutes of those who pretend to make it their business 
 to inquire after trath and certainty, will, I presume, upon 
 examination, be found to be general propositions, and notions 
 in which existence is not at all concerned. All the dis- 
 courses of the mathematicians about the squaring of a circle, 
 conic sections, or any other part of mathematics, concern 
 not the existence of any of those figures; but their de- 
 monstrations, which depend on their ideas, are the same, 
 whether there be any squai-e or circle existing in the world 
 or no. In the same manner, the truth and certainty of 
 moral discourses abstracts from the lives of men, and the 
 existence of those virtues in the world whereof they treat. 
 Nor are Tully's Offices less true, because there is nobody in 
 the world that exactly practises his rules, and lives up to 
 that pattern of a virtuous man which he has given us, and 
 which existed nowhere when he writ, but in idea. If it be 
 tnae in speculation, i. e., in idea, that murder deserves death, 
 it will also be true in reality of any action that exists con- 
 formable to that idea of murder. As for other actions, the 
 truth of that proposition concerns them not. And thus it is 
 of all other species of things, which have no other essences 
 but those ideas which are in the minds of men. 
 
 9. Nor vnll it he less true or certain, because moral Ideas 
 are of our own making and naming. — But it will here be 
 said, that if moral knowledge be placed in the contemplation 
 of our own moral ideas, and those, as other modes, be of our 
 own making, what strange notions will there be of justice and 
 temperance! What confusion of virtues and vices, if every 
 one may make what ideas of them he pleases ! No con- 
 fusion or disorder in the things themselves, nor the reasonings 
 abowt them; no more than (in mathematics) there would be
 
 174 OF HUilAN UOTJERSTAXDIJTG. [bOOK IV, 
 
 a distnrbanoe in the demonstration, or a change in the pro- 
 perties of figures, and their relations one to another, if a 
 man should make a triangle with four comers, or a trapezium 
 with four right angles ; that is, in plain English, change the 
 names of the figures, and call that by one name, which 
 mathematicians call ordinarily by another. For let a man 
 man make to himself the idea of a figure with three angles, 
 whereof one is a right one, and caU it, if he please, equi- 
 laterum or trapezium, or anything else, the properties of 
 and demonstrations about that idea will be the same, as if 
 he called it a rectangular triangle. I confess the change of 
 the name, by the impropriety of speech, will at first disturb 
 him who knows not what idea it stands for; but as soon as 
 the figure is drawn, the consequences and demonstrations are 
 plain and clear. Just the same is it in moral knowledge ; 
 let a man have the idea of taking from others, without their 
 consent, what their honest industry has possessed them of, 
 and call this justice if he please. He that takes the name 
 here without the idea put to it, will be mistaken by joining 
 another idea of his own to that name : but strip the idea of 
 that name, or take it such as it is in the speaker's mind, and 
 the same things will agi-ee to it, as if you called it injustice. 
 Indeed, wrong names in moral discourses breed usually more 
 disorder, because they are not so easily rectified as in mathe- 
 matics, where the fignire, once drawn and seen, makes the 
 name useless and of no force. For what need of a sig-n, when 
 the thing signified is present and in view ? But in moral 
 names that cannot be so easUy and shortly done, because of 
 . the many decompositions that go to the making up the com- 
 plex ideas of those modes. But yet for all this miscalling of 
 any of those ideas, contrary to the usual signification of the 
 words of that language, hindere not but that we may have 
 certain and demonstrative knowledge of their several agree- 
 ments and disagreements, if we will carefully, as in mathe- 
 matics, keep to the same precise ideas, and trace them in 
 their several relations one to another, without being led 
 away by their names. If we but separate the idea under 
 consideration from the sign that stands for it, our knowledge 
 goes equally on in the discovery of real truth and certainty, 
 whatever sounds we make use of. 
 
 10. Misncfjining disturbs 'not the Certainty of tJie Know-
 
 CHAP. IV.] REALITY OF KNOWLEDOE. 175 
 
 ledge. — One thing more we are to take notice of, that where 
 God or any other law-maker hath defined any moral names, 
 there they have made the essence of that species to which 
 that name belongs ; and there it is not safe to apply or use 
 them othei-wise : but in other cases it is bare impropriety of 
 speech to apply them contraiy to the common usage of the 
 country. But yet even this too disturbs not the certainty of 
 that knowledge which is still to be had by a due contem- 
 plation and comparing of those even nick-named ideas. 
 
 11. Ideas of Substances ftave their Archetypes witlwut 
 Its. — Tliirdly, There is another sort of complex ideas, which, 
 being referred to archetypes without us, may differ from 
 them, and so our knowledge about them may come short of 
 being real. Such are our ideas of substances, wliich, consist- 
 ing of a collection of simple ideas, supposed taken from the 
 works of nature, may yet vary from them, by having more 
 or different ideas united in them, than are to be found 
 united in the things themselves. From whence it comes to 
 pass, that they may, and often do fail of being exactly con- 
 formable to things themselves. 
 
 1 2. So far as they agree with those, so far otor Knowledge 
 concerning tliem is real. — I say, then, that to have ideas of 
 substances, which, by being conformable to things, may afford 
 us real knowledge, it is not enough, as in modes, to put toge- 
 ther such ideas as have no inconsistence, though they did never 
 before so exist; v. g., the ideas of sacrilege or perjury, &c., 
 were as real and true ideas before, as after the existence of 
 any such fact. But our ideas of substances being supposed 
 copies, and referred to archetypes without us, must still be 
 taken from something that does or has existed; they must 
 not consist of ideas put together at the pleasure of our 
 thoughts, without any real pattern they were taken from, 
 though we can perceive no inconsistence in such a combina- 
 tion. The reason whereof is, because we, knowing not what 
 real constitution it is of substances whereon our simple ideas 
 depend, and which really is the cause of the strict union of 
 some of them one with another, and the exclusion of others; 
 there are very few of them that we can be sure are or are 
 not inconsistent in nature, any further than experience and 
 sensible observation reach. Herein, therefore, is founded the 
 reality of our knowledge concerning substances, that all our
 
 176 OP HUMAN UNDERSTj\JS'DING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 complex ideas of them must be such, and such only, as are 
 made up of such simple ones as have been discovei'ed to co- 
 exist in nature. And our ideas being thus true, though not, 
 perhaps, very exact copies, are yet the subjects of real (as 
 far as we have any) knowledge of them ; which (as has been 
 already shown) will not be foimd to reach very far ; but so 
 far as it does, it will still be real knowledge. "Whatever 
 ideas we have, the agreement we find they have with others 
 will still be knowledge. If those ideas be abstract, it will 
 be general knowledge. But to make it real concerning sub- 
 stances, the ideas must be taken from the real existence of 
 things. Whatever simple ideas have been found to co-exist 
 in any substance, these we may with confidence join to- 
 gether again, and so make abstract ideas of substances. For 
 whatever have once had an union in nature, may be united 
 again. 
 
 13. In our Inquiries about Suhsta/nces, we must consider 
 Ideas, and not confine our Thoughts to Na/mes, or Species 
 supposed set out hy Namies. — This, if we rightly consider, and 
 confine not our thoughts and abstract ideas to names, as if 
 there were, or coidd be no other sorts of things than what 
 known names had already determined, and, as it were, set 
 out, we should think of things with greater freedom and less 
 confusion than perhaps we do. It would possibly be thought 
 a bold paradox, if not a very dangerous falsehood, if I 
 should say that some changelings,* who have lived forty 
 
 * What changelings were by our superstitious ancestors supposed to 
 be, may be learned from the following story. — " There lived once near 
 . Tir's lake two lonely people, who were sadly plagued with a changeling, 
 given them by the underground people instead of their own child, 
 which had not been baptised in time. This changeling behaved in a 
 veiy strange and uncommon manner, for when there was no one in the 
 place he was in great spirits, ran up the walls like a cat, sat under the 
 roof, and shouted and bawled away lustily ; but sat dozing at the end 
 of the table when any one was in the room with him. He was able 
 to eat as much as any four, and never cared what it was that was set 
 before him ; but, though he regarded not the quality of his food, in 
 quantity he was never satisfied, and gave excessive annoyance to every 
 one in the house. When they had tried for a long time in vain how 
 they could best get rid of him, since there was no living in the house 
 with him, a smart girl pledged herself that she would banish him from 
 the house ; who accordingly, while he was out in the fields, took a pig 
 and killed it, and put it, hide, hair, and all, into a black pudding, and 
 set it before him when he came home. He began, as was his custom,
 
 CHAP. IV.] REALITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 177 
 
 years together without any appearance of reason, are some- 
 thing between a man and a beast; which prejudice is founded 
 upon nothing else but a false supposition, that these two 
 names, man and beast, stand for distinct species to set out 
 by real essences, that there can come no other species be- 
 tween them : whereas, if we will abstract from those names, 
 and the supposition of such specific essences made by nature, 
 wherein all things of the same denominations did exactly and 
 equally partake ; if we would not fancy that there were a 
 cei'tain number of these essences, wherein all things, as in 
 moulds, were cast and formed ; we should find that the idea 
 of the shape, motion, and life of a man without reason, is 
 as much a distinct idea, and makes as much a distinct sort of 
 things from man and beast, as the idea of the shape of an 
 ass with reason would be different from either that of man 
 or beast, and be a species of an animal between or distinct 
 from both. 
 
 14. Objection against a Changeling being something between 
 a Man and Beast, answered. — Here everybody will be ready 
 to ask, If changelings may be supposed something between 
 man and beast, pray what are they? I answer, Change- 
 lings ; which is as good a word to signify somethiBg different 
 from the signification of man or beast, as the names man 
 and beast are to have significations difierent one from the 
 other. This, well considered, would resolve this matter, and 
 show my meaning without any more ado. But I am not so 
 unacquainted with the zeal of some men, which enables 
 them to spin consequences, and to see religion threatened 
 whenever any one ventures to quit their forms of speaking, 
 as not to foresee what names such a proposition as this is 
 like to be charged with : and without doubt it will be asked, 
 If changelings are something between man and beast, what 
 will become of them in the other world? To which I answer, 
 
 to gobble it up ; but when he had eaten for some time, he began to 
 relax a little in his efForts, and at last he stood stiU, with hia knife in 
 his hand, looking at the pudding. At length, after sitting for some 
 time in this manner, he began: — 'A pudding with hide! — a pudding 
 with hair! — a pudding with eyes! — and a pudding with legs in it! 
 Well, three times have T seen a young wood by Tir's lake, but never yet 
 did I see such a pudding ! The devil himself may stay here now for 
 me ! ' So saying, he ran off with himself, and never more came back 
 again." (Keightley's Fairy Mythology, Bohn's edition.) — Ed. 
 VOL. 11. N
 
 178 OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. ' [bOOK IV, 
 
 1. It concerns me not to know or inquire. To their own 
 master they stand or fall. It will make their state neither 
 better nor worse, whether we determine anything of it or 
 no. They are in the hands of a faithful Creator and a 
 bountiful Father, who disposes not of his creatures according 
 to our nan-ow thoughts or opinions, nor distinguishes them 
 according to names and species of our contrivance. And 
 we that know so little of this present world we are in, may, 
 I think, content ourselves without being peremjitory in de- 
 fining the different states which creatures shall come into 
 when they go oif this stage. It may suffice us, that he hath 
 made known to all those who are capable of instniction, 
 discoursing, and reasoning, that they shall come to an 
 account, and receive according to what they have done in 
 this body. 
 
 15. But, Secondly, I answer, The force of these men's 
 question (viz.. Will you deprive changelings of a future 
 state 1) is founded on one of these two suppositions, which 
 are both false. The first is, that all things that have the 
 outward shape and appeai'ance of a man must necessarily be 
 designed to an immortal future being after this Life : or, 
 secondly, that whatever is of human birth must be so. 
 Take away these imaginations, and such questions will be 
 groundless and ridiculous. I desii'e, then, those who think 
 there is no more but an accidental difference between them- 
 selves and changelings, the essence in both being exactly the 
 same, to consider, whether they can imagine immortality 
 annexed to any outward shape of the body? the very pro- 
 . posing it is, I suppose, enough to make them disown it. No 
 one yet, that ever I heard of, how much soever immersed in 
 matter, allowed that excellency to any figure of the gross 
 sensible outward parts, as to affirm eternal life due to it, or 
 a necessary consequence of itj* or that any mass of matter 
 should, after its dissolution here, be again restored hereafter 
 to an everlasting state of sense, perception, and knowledge, 
 only because it was moulded into this or that figure, and 
 
 * And yet who, by his feelings, is not led to think that beauty de- 
 serves immortality ? The ancients, reasoning according to the principles 
 of Paganism, imagined this quality to be of a godlike nature, and 
 worthy of divine honours, which accordingly were in some places paid 
 to it. — Ed.
 
 CHAP. IV.] REALITY OF ICNOWLEDGE. 179 
 
 had such a particular frame of its visible parts. Such an 
 opinion as this, placing immortality in a certain superficial 
 figure, tui'ns out of doors all consideration of soul or spirit, 
 upon whose account alone some corporeal beings have hitherto 
 been concluded immortal, and others not. This is to attri- 
 bute more to the outside than inside of things ; and to ])lace 
 the excellency of a man more in the external shape of his 
 body, than internal perfections of his soul ; which is but 
 little better than to annex the great and inestimable ad- 
 vantage of immortality and life everlasting, which he has 
 above other material beings, to annex it, I say, to the cut of 
 his beard, or the fashion of his coat. For this or that out- 
 ward mark of our bodies no more carries with it the hope of 
 an eternal duration, than the fashion of a man's suit gives 
 him reasonable gi'ounds to imagine it will never wear out, 
 or that it will make him immortal. It will perhaps be said, 
 that nobody thinks that the shape makes anything immortal, 
 but it is the shape is the sign of a rational soul within, 
 which is immortal. I wonder who made it the sign of any 
 such thing; for barely saying it, will not make it so; it 
 would require some proofs to persuade one of it. No figiu-e 
 that I know speaks any such language. For it may as 
 rationally be concluded, that the dead body of a man, 
 wherein there is to be found no more appearance or action of 
 life than there is in a statue, has yet nevertheless a living- 
 soul in it because of its shape ; as that there is a rational 
 soul in a changeling, because he has the outside of a rational 
 creature, when his actions carry far less marks of reason 
 with them, in the whole course of his life, than what are to 
 be found in many a beast. 
 
 16. Monsters. — But it is the issue of rational parents, and 
 must therefore be concluded to have a rational soid. I know 
 not by what logic you must so conclude. I am sure this is 
 a conclusion that men nowhere allow of For if they did, 
 they would not make bold, as everywhere they do, to destroy 
 ill-formed and mis-shaped productions. Ay, but these are 
 monsters. Let them be so : what will your drivelling, un- 
 intelligent, intractable changeling bel Shall a defect in the 
 body make a monster; a defect in the mind (the far more 
 noble, and, in the common phrase, the far more essential 
 part) not? Shall the want of a nose, or a neck, make a 
 
 n2
 
 180 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 monster, and put such issue out of the rank of men; the 
 want of reason and understanding, not] This is to bring 
 all back again to what was exploded just now : this is to 
 place all in the shape, and to take the measure of a man 
 only by his outside. To show that, according to the ordi- 
 nary way of reasoning in this matter, people do lay the 
 whole stress on the figure, and resolve the whole essence of 
 the sj^ecies of man (as they make it) into the outward shape, 
 how unreasonable soever it be, and how much soever they 
 disown it; we need but trace their thoughts and practice 
 a little fui-ther, and then it will plainly appear. The well- 
 shaped changeling is a man, has a rational soid, though it 
 appear not : this is past doubt, say you. Make the ears a 
 little longer, and more pointed, and the nose a little flatter 
 than ordinary, and then you begin to boggle: make the 
 face yet narrower, flatter, and longer, and then you are at a 
 stand : add still more and more of the likeness of a brute to 
 it, and let the head be perfectly that of some other animal, 
 then presently it is a monster; and it is demonstration with 
 you that it hath no rational soul, and must be destroyed. 
 Where now (I ask) shall be the just measure of the utmost 
 bounds of that shape, that carries with it a rational soul? 
 For since there have been human foetuses produced, half 
 beast and half man; and others three parts one, and one 
 part the other; and so it is possible they may be in all 
 the variety of approaches to the one or the other shape, and 
 may have several degrees of mixture of the likeness of a 
 man or a brute; I would gladly know what are those pre- 
 cise lineaments, which, according to this hypothesis, are or 
 are not capable of a rational soul to be joined to them. 
 What sort of outside is the certain sign that there is or is 
 not such an inhabitant within 1 For till that be done, we 
 talk at random of man; and shall always, I fear, do so, as 
 long as we give ourselves up to certain sounds, and the ima- 
 ginations of settled and fixed species in nature, we know not 
 what. But, after all, I desire it may be considered, that 
 those who think they have answered the difficulty by telling 
 us, that a mis-shaped foetus is a monster, run into the same 
 fault they are arguing against, by constituting a species be- 
 tween man and beast. For what else, I pray, is their mon- 
 ster in the case, (if the word monster signifies anything at
 
 CHAP, v.] OF TRUTH IN GENERAL. 181 
 
 all,) but something neither man nor beast, but partaking 
 somewhat of either] And just so is the changeling before 
 mentioned. So necessary is it to quit the common notion 
 of species and essences, if we wUl truly look into the nature 
 of things, and examine them by what om' faculties can dis- 
 cover in them as they exist, and not by groimdless fancies 
 that have been taken up about them. 
 
 17. Words and Species. — I have mentioned this here, be- 
 cause I think we cannot be too cautious that words and 
 species, in the ordinary notions which we have been used to 
 of them, impose laot on iis. For I am apt to think therein 
 lies one great obstacle to our clear and distinct knowledge, 
 especially in reference to substances : and from thence has 
 rose a great part of the difficulties about truth and certainty. 
 Would we accustom ourselves to separate our contempla- 
 tions and reasonings from words, we might in a great measure 
 remedy this inconvenience within our own thoughts ; but 
 yet it would stUl disturb us in our discourse with others, as 
 long as we retained the opinion, that species and their 
 essences were anything else but our abstract ideas (such as 
 they are) with names annexed to them, to be the signs of 
 them. 
 
 18. Recajnttdation. — Wherever we perceive the agreement 
 or disagreement of any of our ideas, there is certain know- 
 ledge ; and wherever we are sure those ideas agree with the 
 reality of things, there is certain real knowledge. Of which, 
 agreement of our ideas with the reality of things, having 
 here given the marks, I think I have shown wherein it is 
 that certainty, real certainty, consists, which, whatever it 
 was to others, was, I confess, to me heretofore, one of those 
 desiderata which I found great want of. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 OF TRUTH IN GENERAL. 
 
 1. What Truth is. — What is truth? was an inquiiy many 
 ages since;* and it being that which all mankind either do, 
 
 • ' ' What is truth ? said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an 
 answer." (Bacon's Essays on Ti-uth, p. 1.) The reader, it is probable, 
 will in this place call to mind a passage of singular beauty and delicacy
 
 182 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 or pretend to search after, it cannot but be wortb our while 
 carefully to examine wherein it consists, and so acquaint 
 ourselves with the nature of it, as to observe how the mind 
 distinguishes it from falsehood. 
 
 which occurs in Aristotle's Ethics, where, in a very few words, he draws 
 a striking parallel between the claims of friendship and tmth. Speak- 
 ing of the supreme good, he says: — To Si kuGoXov, jStXrtov lawg tTricKt- 
 -,paa9ai, Kai Sianopi]<jai ttuiq XkysTai, Ka'nrip irpotyavTovg rfis toiuvtijq 
 yivojJ-'ivrjQ Z,i]Ti](7ta)Q, Sia to <piXovQ ai'Spaq tiaayayilv ra t'iSr). AoKtu 
 d' av trrojg [isXTiov d vai, Kal Stiv tTrl (TojTripia yt ti]q aXt]QuaQ Kai rd 
 oiKtla di'uipeiv, dXXwg ri Kai (piXo(T6(povQ ovrag. 'Afifolv yap ovroiv, 
 (piXoiv oaiov TrpoTiixav rffv dXi^Quav. (Ethic, ad Nichom. L. T. c. vi. 
 § 1.) "It were perhaps best to consider good universal, and examine 
 how it is named ; although this question be painful to me, because the 
 doctrine of ideas was introduced by persons whom I sincerely love. 
 Nevertheless, for truth's sake, it will perhaps be judged the best course 
 for a philosopher to sacrifice even his own proper opinions. For though 
 friendship and truth be both objects of love, I regard it as a sacred duty 
 to prefer the latter." Hence the old saying : — ^^ Amicus Plato, amicus 
 Socrates, sed majus arnica Veritas." Victor's remark upon this passage 
 is worthy of being preserved: — " Purgat antem se primum, quod neces- 
 sitate se cogente, adversaturus sit sententise sui doctoris: unde vocat 
 banc questionem arduam, quia amici ipsius homines, auctores fuerunt 
 ideanim : induxeruntque ipsas in disputationem de summo bono : dignum 
 vero se ostendit esse, cui ignoscatur ; ac fortasse etiam, qui laudetur cum 
 officio fungatur: k philosopho enim Veritas in primis amplexanda est, 
 ceteris que rebus omnibus anteponenda, quare oportet etiam suas pro- 
 prias opiniones confutare, cum cognitse postea sunt alicui vitio, aut 
 errori afRnes ; id quod memorise proditum est, fecisse Hippocratem, qui 
 non veritur est fateri, se in futura humani capitis aliquando deceptum 
 fuisse." The search after truth, in the opinion of Montaigne, was so 
 agreeable as to amount even to a luxurj', which the Stoics abandoned 
 lis blamable. " II ne faut pas trouver estrange, si gents desesperez 
 de la prinse n'ont pas laiss^ d'avoir plaisir h. la cliasse, I'^tude estant de soi 
 une occupation plaisante, et si plaisante que parmi les voluptes, les Stoi- 
 ciens defendent aussi celle quivient de I'exercitation de I'esprit, y veulent 
 de la bride, et trouvent de 1' intemperance a trop scavoir. " (Essais, 1. XI. 
 c. xii. t. V. p. 46.) Lord Bacon observes, that some persons love the 
 lie for the lie's sake; and Montaigne confesses that something very 
 similar had always been reproached to his countrymen. " Le premier 
 traiet de la corruption des mceurs, c'est le bannissement de la V^rit^ : 
 car comme disoit Pindare, I'estre veritable, est le commencement d'une 
 grande vertu, et le premier article que Platon demande au Gouver- 
 neurs de sa Respublique. Nostre v^rit^ de maintenant, ce n'est pas oe 
 qui est, mais ce qui se persuade a autruy ; comme nous appellons mon- 
 noye non celle qui est loyalle seulement, mais la fausse aussi, qui a mise. 
 Nostre nation est de long temps reproch^e de ce vice : car Salvianus 
 Massiliensis, (De Gubernat. Dei, L. 1. c. xiv. p. 87. Edit. 3, Baluz.) 
 qui estoit du temps de I'Empereur Valentinian, dit, qu'awx Francoys
 
 CHAP, v.] OF TRUTH I>r GENERAL. 183 
 
 2. A right joining or separating of Signs, i. e., Ideas or 
 Words. — Truth, then, seems to me, in the proper import of 
 the word, to signify nothing but the joining or separating of 
 signs, as the things signified by them do agree or disagree 
 one with another. The joining or separating of signs here 
 meant, is what by another name we call proposition. So 
 that trath properly belongs only to propositions: whereof 
 there are two sorts, viz., mental and verbal; as there are 
 two sorts of signs commonly made use of, viz., ideas and 
 words, 
 
 3. Which make mental or verbal Proj^ositions. — To form a 
 clear notion of truth, it is very necessary to consider truth of 
 thought, and truth of words, distinctly one from another; 
 but yet it is very difficult to treat of them asunder. Because 
 it is unavoidable, in treating of mental propositions, to make 
 use of words ; and then the instances given of mental pro- 
 positions cease immediately to be barel}'" mental, and become 
 verbal. For a mental proposition being nothing but a bare 
 consideration of the ideas, as they are in our minds, stripped 
 of names, they lose the nature of purely mental propositions 
 as soon as they are put into words. 
 
 4. Mental Propositions are very hard to he treated of. — And 
 that which makes it yet harder to treat of mental and verbal 
 propositions separately is, that most men, if not all, in their 
 thinking and reasonings within themselves, make use of 
 words instead of ideas: at least when the subject of their 
 meditation contains in it complex ideas. Which is a gi'eat 
 evidence of the imperfection and uncertainty of our ideas of 
 that kind, and may, if attentively made use of, serve for a 
 mark to show us what are those things we have clear and 
 perfect established ideas of, and what not. For if we wiU 
 cimously observe the way our mind takes in thinking and 
 reasoning, we shall find, I suppose, that when we make any 
 propositions within our own thoughts about white or black, 
 sweet or bitter, a triangle or a cu'cle, we can and often do 
 
 le inentir et se parjurer n'est pas vice mais uiie facon de parlcr. Qui 
 voudroit enchcris sur ce tesmoignage, il pourroit dire qui ce leur est a 
 present vertu. On s'y fonne, on s'y faconne, comma k un exercise 
 d'honneur: car la dissimulation est des plus notables qualit^s de ce 
 siecle." (L. II. c. xviii. t. vi. p. 128 et seq. On Contemplative Truth, 
 see Hierocles. In Carm. Pythag. pp. 219 — 276.) — Ed.
 
 184 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 frame in om- minds the ideas themselves, without reflecting 
 on the names. But when we would consider, or make pro- 
 positions about the more complex ideas, as of a man, vitriul, 
 fortitude, glory, we usually put the name for the idea ; be- 
 cause the ideas these names stand for, being for the most 
 part imperfect, confused, and undetermined, we reflect on the 
 names themselves, because they are more clear, certain, and 
 distinct, and readier occur to our thoughts than the pure 
 ideas: and so we make use of these words instead of the 
 ideas themselves, even when we would meditate and reason 
 within ourselves, and make tacit mental propositions. In 
 substances, as has been already noticed, this is occasioned by 
 the imjjerfection of our ideas ; we making the name stand for 
 the real essence, of which we have no idea at all. In modes, 
 it is occasioned by the great number of simple ideas that go 
 to the making them up. For many of them being com- 
 pounded, the name occurs much easier than the complex idea 
 itself, which requires time and attention to be recollected, 
 and exactly represented to the mind, even in those men who 
 have formerly been at the pains to do it; and is utterly 
 impossible to be done by those who, though they have ready 
 in their memoiy the greatest part of the common words of 
 that language, yet perhaps never troubled themselves in all 
 their lives to consider what precise ideas the most of them 
 stood for. Some confused or obscure notions have served 
 their turns, and many who talk very much of religion and 
 conscience, of church and faith, of power and right, of ob- 
 structions and humours, melancholy and choler, would perhaps 
 Jiave little left in their thoughts and meditations, if one 
 should desire them to think only of the things themselves, 
 and lay by those words with which they so often confound 
 others, and not seldom themselves also. 
 
 y. Being nothing hut the joining or separating Ideas without 
 Words. — But to return to the consideration of truth: we 
 must, I say, observe two sorts of propositions that we are 
 capable of making. 
 
 First, mental, wherein the ideas in our imderstandings 
 are without the use of words put together, or separated by 
 the mind, perceiving or judging of their agreement or dis- 
 agreement. 
 
 Secondly, Verbal propositions, which are words, the signs
 
 CHAP, v.] OF TRUTH IN GENERAL. 185 
 
 of our ideas, put together or separated in affirmative or nega- 
 tive sentences. By which way of affirming or denying, these 
 signs, made by sounds, ai-e, as it were, put together or sepa- 
 rated one from another. So that proposition consists in 
 joining or sepai-ating signs, and truth consists in the putting 
 together or separating those signs, according as the things 
 which they stand for agree or disagree. 
 
 6. When mental Propositions contain real Truth, and wheti 
 verbal. — Every one's experience will satisfy him, that the 
 mind, either by perceiving or supposing the agreement or 
 disagreement of any of its ideas, does tacitly within itself put 
 them into a kind of proposition affirmative or negative, 
 ■which I have endeavovu-ed to express by the terms putting 
 together aaid separating. But this action of the mind, which 
 is so familiar to every thinking and reasoning man, is easier 
 to be conceived by reflecting on what passes in us when we 
 affirm or deny, than to be explained by words. When a 
 man has in his head the idea of two lines, viz., the side and 
 diagonal of a square, whereof the diagonal is an inch long, he 
 may have the idea also of the division of that line into a 
 certain number of equal parts ; v. g., into five, ten, a hundred, 
 a thousand, or any other number, and may have the idea of 
 that inch line being divisible, or not divisible, into such equal 
 parts, as a certain number of them will be equal to the side- 
 line. Now, whenever he perceives, believes, or supposes such 
 a kind of divisibility to agree or disagree to his idea of that 
 line, he, as it were, joins or separates those two ideas, viz., 
 the idea of that line, and the idea of that kind of divisibility ; 
 and so makes a mental proposition, which is true or false, 
 according as such a kind of divisibility, a divisibility into 
 such aliquot parts, does really agree to that line or no. When 
 ideas are so put together, or separated in the mind, as they 
 or the things they stand for do agree or not, that is, as I may 
 call it, mental truth. But truth of words is something more ; 
 and that is the affirming or denying of words one of another, 
 as the ideas they stand for agree or disagree : and this again is 
 ■ two-fold ; either purely verbal and trifling, which I shall speak 
 of, (chap, viii.,) or real and instructive, which is the object of 
 that real knowledge which we have spoken of already. 
 
 7. Objection against verbal Truth, that thus it may all be 
 chimerical, — But here again will be apt to occur the same
 
 18G OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 doubt about truth, that did about knowledge : and it will 
 be objected, that if truth be nothing but the joining and 
 separating of words in propositions, as the ideas they stand for 
 agree or disagree in men's minds, the knowledge of truth is 
 not so valuable a thing as it is taken to be, nor worth the 
 pains and time men employ in the search of it ; since by this 
 account it amounts to no more than the conformity of words 
 to the chimeras of men's brains. Who knows not what odd 
 notions many men's heads are filled with, and what strange 
 ideas ail men's brains are capable of ? But if we rest here, we 
 know the truth of nothing by this rule, but of the visionary 
 words in our own imaginations ; nor have other truth, but 
 what as much concerns harpies and centaurs, as men and 
 horses. For those, ana the like, may be ideas in our heads, and 
 have their agreement or disagreement there, as well as the ideas 
 of real beings, and so have as true propositions made about 
 them. And it will be altogether as true a proposition to say 
 all centaurs are animals, as that all men are animals ; and 
 the certainty of one as great as the other. For in both the 
 propositions, the words are put together according to the 
 agreement of the ideas in our minds : and the agreement of 
 the idea of animal with that of centaur is as clear and 
 visible to the mind, as the agreement of the idea of animal 
 with that of man ; and so these two propositions are equally 
 true, equally certain. But of what use is all such truth 
 tons? 
 
 8. Ariswered, Real Truth is about Ideas agreeing to things. 
 — Though what has been said in the foregoing chapter to 
 distinguish real from imaginary knowledge, might suifice 
 here, in answer to this doubt, to distinguish real truth from 
 chimerical, or (if you please) barely nominal, they depending 
 both on the same foundation ; yet it may not be amiss here 
 again to consider, that though our words signify nothing but 
 our ideas, yet being designed by them to signify things, the 
 truth they contain when put into propositions will be only 
 verbal, when they stand for ideas in the mind that have not 
 an agreement with the reality of things. And therefore 
 truth as well as knowledge may well come under the dis- 
 tinction of verbal and real ; that being only verbal truth, 
 wherein terms are joined according to the agreement or disa- 
 greement of the ideas they stand for, without regarding
 
 CHAP, v.] OF TRUTH IN GENERAL. 187 
 
 whether our ideas are such as really have, or are capable ox 
 having, an existence in nature. But then it is they contain 
 real truth, when these signs are joined, as our ideas agi-ee ; 
 and when our ideas are such as we know are capable of hav- 
 ing an existence in nature ; which in substances we cannot 
 know, but by knowing that such have existed. 
 
 9. Falsehood is the joining of Names otJierwise than their 
 Ideas agree. — Truth is the marking down in words the agree- 
 ment or disagTeement of ideas as it is. Falsehood is the 
 marking down in words the agreement or disagreement of 
 ideas otherwise than it is. And so fer as these ideas, thus 
 marked by sounds, agree to their archetypes, so far only is 
 the truth real. The knowledge of this truth consists in 
 knowing what ideas the words stand for, and the perception 
 of the agi'eement or disagreement of those ideas, according as 
 it is marked by those words. 
 
 10. General Propositions to he treated of more at large. — 
 But because words are looked on as the great conduits of 
 truth and knowledge, and that in conveying and receiving 
 of truth, and commonly in reasoning about it, we make use 
 of words and propositions ; I shall more at large inquire 
 wherein the certainty of real truths contained in propositions 
 consists, and where it is to be had ; and endeavour to show 
 in what sort of universal propositions we are capable of being 
 certain of their real truth or falsehood. 
 
 I shall begin with general propositions, as those which 
 most employ our thoughts, and exercise our contemplation. 
 General tniths are most looked after by the mind as those 
 that most enlarge our knowledge ; and by their comprehen- 
 siveness satisfying us at once of many particulars, enlarge our 
 view, and shorten our way to knowledge. 
 
 11. Moral and Metaphysical Truth. — Besides trath taken 
 in the strict sense before mentioned, there are other sorts of 
 truth ; as, 1. Moral truth, which is speaking of things 
 according to the persuasion of our own minds, though the 
 proposition we speak agree not to the reality of things. 2, 
 Metaphysical truth, which is nothing but the real existence 
 of things, conformable to the ideas to which we have annexed 
 their names. This, though it seems to consist in the very 
 beings of things, yet, when considered a little nearly, will 
 appear to include a tacit proposition, whereby the mind joins
 
 188 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 that particular thing to the idea it had before settled with 
 the name to it. But these considerations of truth, either 
 haviug been before taken notice of, or not being much to 
 our present purpose, it may suffice here only to have men- 
 tioned them. 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 OF UNIVERSAL PROPOSITIONS, THEIR TRUTH AND CERTAINTY. 
 
 1. Treating of Words necessa/ry to Knowledge. — Though 
 the examining and judging of ideas by themselves, their 
 names being quite laid aside, be the best and sui-est way to 
 clear and distinct knowledge ; yet, through the prevailing 
 custom of using sounds for ideas, I think it is very seldom 
 practised. Every one may observe how common it is for 
 names to be made use of, instead of the ideas themselves, 
 even when men think and reason within their own breasts ; 
 especially if the ideas be very complex, and made up of a 
 great collection of sim2:)le ones. This makes the considera- 
 tion of words and propositions so necessary a part of the 
 treatise of knowledge, that it is very hard to sj)eak intelli- 
 gibly of the one, without explaining the other. 
 
 2. General Truths hardly to he understood, hut in verbal 
 Propositions. — All the knowledge we have, being only of 
 particular or general truths, it is evident that whatever may 
 be done in the former of these, the latter, which is that 
 which with reason is most sought after, can never be well 
 made known, and is very seldom apprehended, but as con- 
 ceived and expressed in words. It is not, therefore, out of 
 our way in the examination of our knowledge, to inquire into 
 the truth and certainty of universal propositions. 
 
 3. Certainty two/old — o/ Truth and of Knowledge. — But 
 that we may not be misled in this case by that which is the 
 danger everywhere, I mean by the doubtfulness of terms, 
 it is fit to observe that certainty is twofold : certainty of 
 truth and certainty of knowledge. Certainty of truth is, 
 when words are so put together in propositions as exactly 
 to express the agreement or disagreement of the ideas they 
 stand for, as really it is. Certainty of knowledge is to per-
 
 CHAP. VI.] UNIVERSAL PROPOSITIONS. 189 
 
 ceive the agreement or disagreement of ideas, as expressed La 
 any proposition. This we usually call knowing, or being 
 certain of the truth of any proposition. 
 
 4. JVo Fro2)Osition can be known to be true, vjJiere the Essence 
 of each Species mentioned is not known. — Now, because we 
 cannot be certain of the truth of any general proposition, 
 unless we know the precise bounds and extent of the species 
 its terms stand for, it is necessary we should know the 
 essence of each species, which is that which constitutes and 
 bounds it. This, in all simple ideas and modes, is not hard 
 to do. For in these the real and nominal essence being the 
 same, or, which is all one, the abstract idea which the general 
 term stands for being the sole essence and boundary that is 
 or can be supposed of the species, there can be no doubt how 
 far the species extends, or what things are comprehended 
 imder each term ; which, it is evident, are all that have an 
 exact conformity with the idea it stands for, and no other. 
 But in substances wherein a real essence distinct from the 
 nominal is supposed to constitute, determine, and bound the 
 species, the extent of the general word is very uncertain ; 
 because, not knowing this real essence, we cannot know what 
 is, or what is not of that species ; and, consequently, what 
 may or may not with certainty be affirmed of it. And thus, 
 speaking of a man, or gold, or any other species of natural 
 substances, as supposed constituted by a precise and real 
 essence which nature regularly imparts to every individual of 
 that kind, whereby it is made to be of that species, we can- 
 not be certain of the truth of any affirmation or negation 
 made of it. For man or gold, taken in this sense, and used 
 for species of things constituted by real essences, different 
 from the complex idea in the mind of the speaker, stand for 
 we know not what ; and the extent of these species, with 
 such boundaries, are so unknown and undetermined, that it 
 is impossible with any certainty to affirm, that all men are 
 rational, or that all gold is yellow. But where the nominal 
 essence is kept to, as the boundary of each species, and men 
 extend the application of any general term no further than 
 to the particular things in which the complex idea it stands 
 for is to be found, there they are in no danger to mistake the 
 bounds of each species, nor can be in doubt, on this account, 
 whether any proposition be true or not. I have chosen to
 
 190 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 explain this uncertainty of propositions in this scholastic 
 way, and have made use of the terms of essences, and species, 
 on purpose to show the absurdity and inconvenience there is 
 to think of them as of any other sort of realities, tlian barely 
 abstract ideas with names to them. To suppose that the 
 species of things are anything but the sorting of them under 
 general names, according as they agree to several abstract 
 ideas, of which we make those names the signs, is to confound 
 truth, and introduce uncertainty into aU general propositions 
 that can be made about them. Though therefore these things 
 might, to people not possessed with scholastic learning, be 
 treated of in a better and clearer way; yet those wrong notions 
 of essences or species having got root in most people's minds 
 who have received any tincture from the learning which has 
 prevailed in this part of the world, are to be discovered and 
 removed, to make way for that use of words which should 
 convey certainty with it. 
 
 5. This more particidarly concerns Substances. — The names 
 of substances, then, whenever made to stand for species which 
 are supposed to be constituted by real essences which we 
 know not, are not capable to convey cei'tainty to the imder- 
 standing: of the truth of general ])ropo3itions made up of 
 such terms we cannot be sure. The reason whereof is plain : 
 for how can we be sure that this or that quality is in gold, 
 when we know not what is or is not gold? Since in this 
 way of speaking, nothing is gold but what partakes of an 
 essence, which we not knowing, cannot know where it is or 
 is not, and so cannot be sure that any parcel of matter in the 
 world is or is not in this sense gold ; being incurably igno- 
 rant whether it has or has not that which makes anything 
 to be called gold ; i. e., that real essence of gold whereof we 
 have no idea at all : this being as impossible for us to know 
 as it is for a blind man to tell in what flower the colour of 
 a pansy is or is not to be found, whilst he lias no idea of the 
 colour of a pansy at all. Or if we could (which is impossible) 
 certainly know where a real essence, which we know not, is ; 
 V. g., in what parcels of matter the real essence of gold is; 
 yet could we not be sure that this or that quality could with 
 truth be aflB.rmed of gold; since it is impossible for us to 
 know that this or that qiiality or idea has a necessary con- 
 nexion with a real essence of which we have no idea at all,
 
 CHAP. VI.] UNIVERSAL PROPOSITIONS. 191 
 
 whatever species that supposed real essence may be imagined 
 to constitute. 
 
 6. Tlie Truth of few universal Propositions concerning Sub- 
 stances is to he known. — On the other side, the names of sub- 
 stances, when made use of as they shoukl be, for the ideas 
 men have in their minds, though they carry a clear and 
 determinate signification Avith them, will not yet serve us to 
 make many universal propositions, of whose truth we can be 
 certain. Not because in this use of them wc are imcertain 
 what things are signified by them, but because the complex 
 ideas they stand for are such combinations of simple ones as 
 caiTy not with them any discovei'able connexion or repug- 
 nancy, but with a very few other ideas. 
 
 7. Because Co-eodsience of Ideas in few Cases is to he knoion. 
 — The complex ideas that our names of the species of sub- 
 stances properly stand foi-, are collections of such qualities as 
 have been observed to co-exist in an unknown svibstratum, 
 which we call substance: but what other qualities neces- 
 sai'ily co-exist with such combinations, we cannot certainly 
 know, unless we can discover their natural dependence ; 
 which, in their primary qualities, we can go but a very little 
 way in ; and in all their secondary qualities we can discover 
 no connexion at all, for the reasons mentioned, chap, iii., viz., 
 1. Because we know not the real constitutions of substances, 
 on which each secondary quality particularly depends. 2. Did 
 we know that it would serve us only for experimental (not 
 universal) knowledge; and reach with certainty no further 
 than that bare instance : because our understandings can 
 discover no conceivable connexion between any secondary 
 quality and any modification whatsoever of any of the primary 
 ones. And therefore there are veiy few general proj^ositions 
 to be made concerning substances, which can carry with 
 them undoubted certainty. 
 
 8. Instamce in Gold. — All gold is fixed, is a proposition 
 whose truth we cannot be certain of, how universally soever 
 it be believed. For if, according to the useless imagination 
 of the schools, any one supposes the term gold to stand for a 
 species of things set out by natm-e, by a real essence belong- 
 ing to it, it is evident he knows not what particular sub- 
 .stances ai-e of that species ; and so cannot with certainty 
 affirm anything universally of gold. But if he makes gokl
 
 192 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IT. 
 
 stand for a species determined by its nominal essence, let the 
 nominal essence, for example, be the complex idea of a body 
 of a certain yellow colour, malleable, fusible, and heavier 
 than any other known; in this proper use of the wox'd gold, 
 there is no difficulty to know what is or is not gold. But 
 yet no other quality can with certainty be universally 
 affirmed or denied of gold, but what hath a discoverable con- 
 nexion or inconsistency with that nominal essence. Fixed- 
 ness, for example, having no necessary connexion, that we 
 can discover, with the colour, weight, or any other simple 
 idea of our complex one, or with the whole combination 
 together; it is impossible that we should certainly know the 
 trath of this proposition, that all gold is fixed. 
 
 9. As there is no discovei-able connexion between fixed- 
 ness and the colour, weight, and other simple ideas of that 
 nominal essence of gold ; so if we make our complex idea of 
 gold a body yellow, fusible, ductile, weighty, and fixed, we 
 shall be at the same uncertainty concerning solubility in aq. 
 regia, and for the same reason : since we can never, from 
 consideration of the ideas themselves, with certainty affirm 
 or deny of a body whose complex idea is made up of yellow, 
 very weighty, ductile, fusible, and fixed, that it is soluble in 
 aq. regia; and so on of the rest of its qualities. I would 
 gladly meet with one general affirmation concerning any 
 quality of gold, that any one can certainly know is tnie. It 
 will, no doubt, be presently objected, Is not this an univei-sal 
 proposition, "all gold is malleable?" To which I answer, 
 it is a very certain proposition, if malleableness be a part of 
 the complex idea the word gold stands for. But then here 
 is nothing affirmed of gold, but that that sound stands for 
 an idea in which malleableness is contained: and such a sort 
 of truth and certainty as this, it is to say a centaur is four- 
 footed. But if malleableness make not a part of the specific 
 essence the name of gold stands for, it is plain, " all gold is 
 malleable," is not a certain jjroposition. Because, let the 
 complex idea of gold be made up of whichsoever of its other 
 qualities you please, malleableness will not appear to depend 
 on that complex idea, nor follow from any simple one con- 
 tained in it : the connexion that malleableness has (if it has 
 any) with those other qualities being only by the interven- 
 tion of the real constitution of its insensible parts; which,
 
 CHAP. VI.] UNIVERSAL PROPOSITIONS. 193 
 
 since we know not, it is impossible we should i^erceive that 
 connexion, unless we could discover that which ties them 
 together. 
 
 10. As far as any such Co-existence can he known, so far 
 universal Propositions may he cei'tain. — But this ivill go hut 
 a little Way, hecause — The more, indeed, of these co-existing 
 qualities we unite into one complex idea under one name, 
 the more precise and determinate we make the signification 
 of that word ; but never yet make it thereby more capable 
 of universal certainty, in respect of other qualities not con- 
 tained in our complex idea; since we perceive not their con- 
 nexion or dependence on one another, being ignorant both of 
 that real constitution in which they are all founded, and also 
 how they flow from it. For the chief part of our knowledge 
 concerning substances is not, as in other things, barely of 
 the relation of two ideas that may exist separately; but is of 
 the necessary connexion and co-existence of several distinct 
 ideas in the same svibject, or of their repugnancy so to 
 co-exist. Could we begin at the other end, and discover 
 what it was wherein that colour consisted, what made a body 
 lighter or heavier, what texture of parts made it malleable, 
 fusible, and fixed, and fit to be dissolved in this sort of 
 liquor, and not in another — if, I say, we had such an idea 
 as this of bodies, and could perceive wherein all sensible 
 qualities originally consist, and how they are produced ; we 
 might frame such ideas of them as would furnish us with 
 matter of more general knowledge, and enable us to make 
 imiversal propositions, that should cany general truth and 
 certainty with thenj. But whilst our complex ideas of the 
 sorts of substances are so remote from that internal real 
 constitution on which their sensible qualities depend, and 
 are made xip of nothing but an imperfect collection of those 
 apparent qualities our senses can discover, there can be few 
 general propositions concerning substances of whose I'eal truth 
 we can be certainly assured; since thei'e are but few simple 
 ideas of whose connexion and necessary co-existence we can 
 have certain and undoubted knowledge. I imagine, amongst 
 all the secondary qualities of substances, and the powers re- 
 lating to them, there cannot any two be named whose 
 necessary co-existence or repugnance to co-exist can certainly 
 be known, unless in those of the same sense, which neces- 
 
 VOL. II. o
 
 194 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 sarily exclude one another, as I have elsewhere showed. No 
 one, I think, by the colour that is in any body, can certainly 
 know what smell, taste, sound, or tangible qualities it has, 
 nor what alterations it is capable to make or receive on or 
 from other bodies. The same may be said of the sound or 
 taste, «fec. Om- specific names of substances standing for any 
 collections of such ideas, it is not to be wondered that we 
 can with them make very few general propositions of un- 
 doubted real certainty. But yet so far as any complex idea 
 of any sort of substances contains in it any simple idea, 
 whose necessary co-existence with any other may be disco- 
 vered, so far universal propositions may with certainty be 
 made concerning it: v. g., could any one discover a necessary 
 connexion between maHeableness and the colour or weight of 
 gold, or any other part of the complex idea signified by that 
 name, he might make a certain universal proposition con- 
 cerning gold in this respect; and the real truth of this 
 proposition, " that all gold is malleable," would be as certain 
 as of this, "the three angles of all right-lined triangles are 
 all equal to two right ones." 
 
 11. Tlie Qualities which make our complex Ideas of Siib- 
 stances depend mostly on external, remote, and unperceived 
 Causes. — Had we such ideas of substances as to know what 
 real constitutions produce those sensible qualities we find in 
 them, and how those qualities flowed from thence, we could, 
 by the specific ideas of their real essences in our own minds, 
 more certainly find out their properties, and discover what 
 qualities they had or had not, than we can now by our 
 senses : and to know the properties of gold, it would be no 
 more necessary that gold should exist, and that we should 
 make experiments upon it, than it is necessary for the know- 
 ing the properties of a triangle, that a triangle should exist 
 in any matter, the idea in our minds woidd serve for the 
 one as well as the other. But we are so far from being 
 admitted into the secrets of natiu-e, that we scarce so much 
 as ever approach the first entrance towards them. For we 
 are wont to consider the substances we meet with, each of 
 them as an entire thing by itself, having all its qualities 
 in itself, and independent of other things; ovei'looking, 
 for the most part, the operations of those invisible fluids 
 they are encompassed with, and upon whose motions and
 
 CHAP. VI.] UNIVERSAL PROPSITTONS. 195 
 
 operations depend the greatest part of those qualities which 
 are taken notice of in them, and are made by us the in- 
 herent marks of distinction whereby we know and deno- 
 minate them. Put a piece of gold anywhere by itself, 
 separate from the reach and influence of all other bodies, it 
 will immediately lose all its colour and weight, and \>cv- 
 haps malleableness too; which, for aught I know, would be 
 changed into a perfect friability. Water, in which to us 
 fluidity is an essential quality, left to itself, would cease to 
 be fluid. But if inanimate bodies owe so much of their 
 present state to other bodies without them, that they would 
 not be what they appear to us were those bodies that environ 
 them removed; it is yet more so in vegetables, which are 
 nourished, grow, and produce leaves, flowers, and seeds, in a 
 constant succession. And if we look a little nearer into the 
 state of animals, we shall find that their dependence, as to 
 life, motion, and the most considerable qualities to be observed 
 in them, is so wholly on extrinsical causes and qualities of 
 other bodies that make no part of them, that they cannot 
 subsist a moment without them : though yet those bodies on 
 which they depend are little taken notice of, and make no 
 part of the complex ideas we frame of those animals. Take 
 the air but for a minute from the greatest part of living- 
 creatures, and they presently lose sense, life, and motion. 
 This the necessity of breathing has forced into our know- 
 ledge. But how many other extrinsical and possibly very 
 remote bodies do the springs of these admirable machines 
 depend on, which are not vulgarly observed, or so much as 
 thought on; and how many are there which the severest in- 
 quiry can never discover? The inhabitants of this spot of 
 ■Uie universe, though removed so many millions of miles from 
 the sun, yet depend so much on the duly tempered motion 
 of particles coming fi'om or agitated by it, that were this 
 earth removed but a small part of the distance out of its 
 present situation, and placed a little further or nearer that 
 source of heat, it is more than probable that the greatest 
 part of the animals in it would immediately perish : since 
 we find them so often destroyed by an excess or defect of the 
 sun's warmth, which an accidental position in some parts of 
 this our little globe exposes them to. The qualities observed 
 in a loadstone must needs have their source far beyond the 
 
 o 2
 
 19G OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 confines of that body ; and the ravage made often on several 
 sorts of animals by invisible causes, the certain death (as we 
 are told) of some of them, by barely passing the line, or, as 
 it is certain of other, by being removed into a neighbouring 
 country ;* evidently show that the concurrence and operations 
 
 * Other animals, though not destroyed, lose many of their distin- 
 guishing properties. Thus, the scorpion, whose poison is fatal under the 
 Ime, becomes less and less noxious as the race is propagated northward. 
 Again : the shawl-goats of Thibet, transported to Northern India or 
 Persia, lose their fine silky hair, and become covered with a rough 
 shaggy coat, nearly resembling that of other animals of the same 
 species. In Spain, too, the finest wool is produced by the sheep of the 
 Mesta, which wander over nearly half the kingdom, from the plains of 
 Estremadura to the mountains of Castile and Leon. Confined to any 
 particular district, saving cne small tract in the environs of Segovia, 
 they degenerate, and produce a wool of coarser texture. Trees and 
 plants also are visibly modified by climate : thus, such as are evergreens 
 in Upper Egypt, transplanted to the north, become deciduous ; and 
 trees and shrubs which in our northern hemisphere flower in June, being 
 conveyed south of the line, for the next few years make an attempt to 
 flower at the same season, which happening to be midwinter in those 
 regions, they gradually desist from their old habits, and learn to submit 
 to the laws of the place. This fact was observed by Monsiem- Bar- 
 thelemy St. HUaire, in his travels in Brazil, where, if I recollect 
 rightly, it is regarded as a fact of recent discoveiy, though in truth it had 
 been long ago noticed by Lord Bacon, who says : ' ' Plants brought out 
 of hot countries will endeavour to put forth at the same time that they 
 usually do in their own climate ; and therefore, to preserve them, there 
 is no more required, than to keep them from the injury of putting back 
 by cold." (Sylva Sylvarum, art. vi. no. 574.) Andrew Baccius, in his 
 very curious and learned work, De Thermis, makes, on occult qualities, 
 a remark very much in the spirit of Locke. ' ' Dubiimi non est, quod 
 quorumcunque effectuum, etiam singularium prseter communes, et 
 medias caussas, sunt suse verse, et propriae causae : hse ver5 quoniam 
 plei-umque nobis notce non sunt, utpote remotse k sensibus (ubi enim 
 nos deficit sensus, deficit et judicium) hinc est qubd singulares ac mira- 
 biles appeUuntur effectus, eventusque naturae : nimu-tim quia ignoramus 
 crussam quam nos percipimus sensu." (1. VI. c. xxiii. p. 341.) He 
 then proceeds to give examples of strange and seemingly miraculous 
 qualities in the water of various fountains, springs, and lakes ; such as 
 the fountain- tree, in the Fortunate Islands; (See also Voy. de la 
 Compagnie des Indes ;) the lake in the mountains of Portugal which 
 ebbs and flows simultaneously with the sea ; a fountain in the same 
 country, which absorbs whatever is thrown into it, even living creatures; 
 a lake on the confines of Austria and Hungary, which, hiding itself in 
 certain caverns during summer, leaves its bed a beautiful green valley, 
 but, rushing forth in the autumn, fills up the hollows, and abounds 
 with fish — he likewise celebrates fountams tinctured with milk and wine ; 
 but the most remarkable, perhaps, is that lake described by CassiodoruB,
 
 CHAP. VI.] UNIVERSAL PROPOSITIOXS. 197 
 
 of several bodies, with which they are seldom thought to 
 have anything to do, is absolutely necessary to make them 
 be what they appear to us, and to preserve those qualities by 
 which we know and distinguish them. We are then quite 
 out of the way, when we think that things contain within 
 themselves the qualities that appear to us in them ; and we 
 in vain search for that constitution within the body of a fiy 
 or an elephant, upon which depend those qualities and 
 powers we observe in them. For which perhaps, to under- 
 stand them aright, we ought to look not only beyond this 
 our earth and atmosphere, but even beyond the sun or re- 
 motest star om- eyes have yet discovered. For how much 
 the being and operation of particular substances in this our 
 globe depends on causes utterly beyond our view, is impos- 
 sible for us to detei'mine. We see and perceive some of the 
 motions and gi'osser operations of things here about us ; but 
 whence the streams come that keep all these curious machines 
 in motion and repair, how conveyed and modified, is beyond 
 our notice and ajiprehension : and the gi-eat parts and wheels, 
 as I may so say, of this stupendous structui'e of the universe, 
 may, for aught we know, have such a connexion and de- 
 pendence in their influences and operations one upon another, 
 that perhaps things in this our mansion would put on quite 
 another face, and cease to be what they are, if some one of 
 the stars or great bodies incomprehensibly remote from us, 
 should cease to be or move as it does. This is certain : things, 
 however absolute and entire they seem in themselves, are 
 but retainers to other parts of nature, for that which they 
 are most taken notice of by us. Their observable qualities, 
 actions, and powers are owing to something without them; 
 and there is not so comjilete and perfect a part that we know 
 
 rEpist. 1. viii.) in Calabria. ' ' Cum in coronae speciem frequenti circum 
 harundineto cingatur, ac placidus maneat, ut ne moveri quidem vi- 
 deatur : alioqui miranda res, ut adventante honiine, quasi amore hominis 
 percitus antiquse Ulius Arethusse instar, vel sibilo, vel voce edita, et 
 quasi jussus excitatis sponte a quis fervere incipiat, ac subcensse ollce 
 instar fragorem mittat. Unde stupescas cum silenti homini sileat, ad 
 sonitum verb vocis a somno excitatus, et quasi respondens vocanti, ad 
 sermonem hominis inimunneret: haec scribit. In caussis qusero, an 
 eundem hie fons referat sonitum cseteris animantibus, ut latratum canis, 
 hinnitum equi? nam sic esset in aquis illis eadem qupe in echo caussa, an 
 potius credam hinc veterem Midse representari fabulam?" (Baccius, 
 L VI. c. xxiii. p. 344.)— Ed.
 
 IDS OF HUMAN UNDEESTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 of nature, which does not owe the being it has, and the 
 excellences of it, to its neighbours; and we must not confine 
 our thoughts within the surface of any body, but look a 
 great deal further, to comprehend perfectly those qualities 
 that are in it. 
 
 12. If this be so, it is not to be wondered that we have 
 very imperfect ideas of substances, and that the real essences, 
 on which depend their properties and operations, are un- 
 known to us. We cannot discover so much as that size, 
 figure, and texture of their minute and active parts, which 
 is really in them; much less the difierent motions and im- 
 pulses made in and upon them by bodies from without, upon 
 which depends, and by which is formed the greatest and 
 most remarkable part of those qualities we observe in them, 
 and of which our complex ideas of them are made up. This 
 consideration alone is enough to put an end to all our hopes 
 of ever having the ideas of their real essences ; which whilst 
 we want, the nominal essences we make use of instead of them, 
 will be able to furnish us but very sparingly with any general 
 knowledge or universal propositions capable of real certainty. 
 
 13. Judginent may reach further, hut that is Twt Knowledge. 
 — We are not therefore to wonder, if certainty be to be found 
 in very few general propositions made concerning substances: 
 our knowledge of their qualities and properties goes very 
 seldom further than our senses reach and inform us. Pos- 
 sibly inquisitive and observing men may, by strength of 
 judgment, penetrate fiui,her, and, on probabilities taken from 
 wary observation, and hints well laid together, often guess 
 right at what experience has not yet discovered to them. 
 But this is but guessing still ; it amounts only to opinion, 
 and has not that certainty which is requisite to knowledge. 
 For all general knowledge lies only in oixr own thoughts, 
 and consists barely in the contemplation of our own abstract 
 ideas. Wherever we perceive any agreement or disagree- 
 ment amongst them, there we have general knowledge; and 
 by putting the names of those ideas together accordingly 
 in propositions, can with certainty pronounce general truths. 
 Bat because the abstract ideas of substances, for which their 
 specific names stand, whenever they have any distinct and 
 determinate signification, have a discoverable connexion or 
 inconsistency with but a very few other ideas, the certainty
 
 CHAP. VI.] UNIVERSAL PROPOSITIONS. 199 
 
 of universal propositions concerning substances is very nar- 
 row and scanty in that part, which is our principal inquiry 
 concerning them ; and there are scarce any of the names of 
 substances, let the idea it is applied to be what it will, of 
 which we can generally and with certainty pronounce that 
 it has or has not this or that other quality belonging to it, 
 and constantly co-existing or inconsistent with that idea, 
 wherever it is to be found. 
 
 14. What is requisite for our Knowledge of Substances. — • 
 Before we can have any tolerable knowledge of this kind, 
 we must first know what changes the primary qualities of 
 one body do regularly produce in the primary qualities of 
 another, and how. Secondly, We must know what primary 
 qualities of any body procKice certain sensations or ideas in 
 us. This is in truth no less than to know all the effects 
 of matter, tender its divers modifications of bulk, figure, 
 cohesion of parts, motion and rest; which, I think every 
 body will allow, is utterly impossible to be known by us 
 without revelation. Nor if it were revealed to us what sort 
 of figure, bulk, and motion of corpuscles would produce in 
 us the sensation of a yellow colour, and what sort of figure, 
 bulk, and texture of parts in the superfices of any body 
 were fit to give such corpuscles their due motion to produce 
 that colour; would that be enough to make universal pro- 
 positions with certainty, concerning the several sorts of them, 
 unless we had facilities acute enough to perceive the precise 
 bulk, figure, texture, and motion of bodies in those minute 
 parts, by which they operate on our senses, so that we might 
 by those frame our abstract ideas of them. I have men- 
 tioned here only corporeal substances, whose operations 
 seem to lie more level to our understandings : for as to the 
 operations of spirits, both their thinking and moving of 
 bodies, we at fii-st sight find ourselves at a loss; though per- 
 haps, when we have applied our thoughts a little nearer 
 to the consideration of bodies and their operations, and ex- 
 amined how far our notions, even in these, reach with any 
 clearness beyond sensible matter of fact, we shall be bound 
 to confess that, even in these too, our discoveries amount 
 to very little beyond perfect ignorance and incapacity. 
 
 15. Whilst our Ideas of Substances contain not their real 
 Constitutions, we can iriake but few general certain Propo-
 
 200 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV, 
 
 sitions concerning them. — This is evident, the abstract com- 
 plex ideas of substances, for which their general names 
 stand, not comprehending their real constitutions, can afford 
 us very little universal certainty. Because our ideas of 
 them are not made up of that on which those qualities we 
 observe in them, and would inform ourselves about, do de- 
 pend, or with which they have any certain connexion : v. g., 
 let the ideas to which we give the name man be, as it com- 
 monly is, a body of the ordinary shape, with sense, voluntary 
 motion, and reason joined to it. This being the abstract 
 idea, and consequently the essence of our species, man, we 
 can make but very few general certain propositions con- 
 cerning man, standing for such an idea. Because not know- 
 ing the real constitution on which sensation, power of motion, 
 and reasoning, with that peculiar shape, depend, and whereby 
 they are united together in the same subject, there are very 
 few other qualities with which we can perceive them to 
 have a necessary connexion: and therefore we cannot with 
 certainty affirm that all men sleep by intervals, that no 
 man can be nourished by wood or stones, that all men will 
 be poisoned by hemlock, because these ideas have no con- 
 nexion nor repugnancy with this ovir nominal essence of 
 man, with this abstract idea that name stands for; we must, 
 in these and the like, appeal to trial in particular subjects, 
 which can reach but a little way. We must content ourr 
 selves with probability in the rest; but can have no general 
 certainty, whilst our specific idea of man contains not that 
 real constitution which is the root wherein all his insepa- 
 rable qualities are united, and from whence they flow. 
 Whilst our idea the word man stands for is only an im- 
 perfect collection of some sensible qualities and powers in 
 him, there is no discernible connexion or repugnance be- 
 tween our specific idea, and the operation of either the 
 parts of hemlock or stones upon his constitution. There 
 are animals that safely eat hemlock, and others that are 
 nourished by wood and stones : but as long as we want ideas 
 of those real constitutions of difierent sorts of animals where- 
 on these and the like qualities and powers depend, we must 
 not hope to reach certainty in universal propositions con- 
 cerning them. Those few ideas only which have a discerni- 
 ble connexion with our nominal essence, or any part of it^
 
 CHAP. VII.] OF MAXIMS. 201 
 
 can afford us such propositions. But these are so few, and 
 of so little moment, that we may justly look on our certain 
 general knowledge of substances as almost none at all. 
 
 16. Wherein lies tlie general Certainty of Propositions. — 
 To conclude : general propositions, of what kind soever, are 
 then only capable of certainty, when the terms used in them 
 stand for such ideas, whose agreement or disagreement, as 
 there expressed, is capable to be discovered by us. And v^e 
 are then certain of their truth or falsehood, when we per- 
 ceive the ideas the terms stand for to agree or not agree, ac- 
 cording as they are affirmed or denied one of another. Whence 
 we may take notice, that general certainty is never to be 
 found but in our ideas. Whenever we go to seek it else- 
 where, in experiment or observations without us, our know- 
 ledge goes not beyond particulars. It is the contemplation 
 of our own abstract ideas that alone is able to afford us gene- 
 ral knowledge. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 OF MAXIMS. 
 
 1. They are self-evident. — There are a sort of propositions, 
 which, under the name of maxims and axioms, have passed 
 for principles of science ; and because they are self-evident, 
 have been supposed innate, although nobody (that I know) 
 ever went about to show the reason and foundation of their 
 clearness or cogency. It may, however, be worth while to 
 inquire into the reason of their evidence, and see whether it 
 be peculiar to them alone, and also examine how far they 
 influence and govern our other knowledge. 
 
 2. Wherein that Self-eoidence consists. — Knowledge, as has 
 been shown, consists in the perception of the agreement or 
 disagreement of ideas ; now, where that agreement or disa- 
 greement is perceived immediately by itself, without the 
 intervention or help of any other, there om- knowledge is 
 self-eAddent. This will appear to be so to any who will but 
 consider any of those propositions, which, without any proof, 
 he assents to at first sight ; for in all of them he will find 
 that the reason of his assent is from that agreement or disa-
 
 202 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 greemeut which the mind, by an immediate comparing them, 
 finds in those ideas answering the affirmation or negation in 
 the proposition. 
 
 3. Self-evidence not peculiar to received Axioms. — This 
 being so, in the next place, let us consider whether this self- 
 evidence be peculiar only to those propositions which com- 
 monly pass under the name of maxims, and have the dignity 
 of axioms allowed them. And here it is plain, that several 
 other truths, not allowed to be axioms, partake equally with 
 them in this self-evidence. This we shall see, if Ave go over 
 these several sorts of agreement or disagreement of ideas 
 which I have above mentioned, viz., identity, relation, co- 
 existence, and real existence ; which will discover to us, that 
 not only those few propositions which have had the credit of 
 maxims are self-evident, but a great many, even almost an 
 infinite number of other propositions are such. 
 
 4. I. As to Identity mid Diversity, all Propositions are 
 equally self-evident. — For, Fu'st, The immediate perception 
 of the agreement or disagreement of identity being founded 
 in the mind's having distinct ideas, that this affords us, as 
 many self-evident propositions as we have distinct ideas. 
 Every one that has any knowledge at all, has, as the foundation 
 of it, various and distinct ideas : and it is the first act of the 
 mind (without which it can never be capable of any know- 
 ledge) to know every one of its ideas by itself, and distinguish 
 it from others. Every one finds in himself, that he knows 
 the ideas he has ; that he knows also, when any one is in his 
 understanding, and what it is ; and that when more than 
 one are there, he knows them distinctly and unconfusedly 
 one from another ; which always being so, (it being impos- 
 sible but that he should perceive what he perceives,) he can 
 never be in doubt when any idea is in his mind, that it is 
 there, and is that idea it is ; and that two distinct ideas, 
 when they are in his mind, are there, and are not one and 
 the same idea. So that all such affirmations and negations 
 are made witho\it any possibility of doubt, uncertainty, or 
 hesitation, and must necessarily be assented to as soon as 
 understood ; that is, as soon as we have in our minds deter- 
 mined ideas, which the terms in the proposition stand for. 
 And, therefore, whenever the mind with attention considers 
 any proposition, so as to perceive the two ideas signified by
 
 CHAP. VU.] OF MAXIMS. 203 
 
 the terms, and affirmed or denied one of the other to be the 
 same or different ; it is presently and infallibly certain of the 
 truth of such a proposition, and this equally whether these pro- 
 positions be in terms standing for more general ideas, or such as 
 are less so ; v. g., whether the general idea of being be affirmed 
 of itself, as in tliis proposition, whatsoever is, is ; or a more 
 particular idea be affirmed of itself, as a man is a man ; or, 
 whatsoever is white is white ; or whether the idea of being in 
 general be denied of not being, which is the only (if I may so 
 call it) idea different from it, as in this other proposition, it 
 is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be ; or any 
 idea of any pai'ticiilar being be denied of another different 
 from it, as a man is not a horse; red is not blue. The 
 difference of the ideas, as soon as the terms are understood, 
 makes the truth of the proposition pi-esently visible, and 
 that with an equal certainty and easiness in the less as well 
 as the more general propositions, and all for the same reason, 
 viz., becaiise the mind perceives, in any ideas that it has, the 
 same idea to be the same with itself; and two different ideas 
 to be different, and not the same ; and tliis it is equally cer- 
 tain of, whether these ideas be more or less general, abstract, 
 and comprehensive. It is not, therefore, alone to these two 
 general propositions, whatsoever is, is ; and it is impossible 
 for the same thing to be and not to be ; that this sort of self- 
 evidence belongs by any peculiar right. The perception of 
 being, or not being, belongs no more to these vague ideas, 
 signified by the terms whatsoever, and thing, than it does 
 to any other ideas. These two general maxims, amounting 
 to no more, in short, but this, that the same is the same, and 
 same is not different, are truths known in more particular in- 
 stances, as well as in those general maxims, and known also in 
 particular instances, before these general maxims are ever 
 thought on, and draw all their force from the discernment of 
 the mind employed about particular ideas. There is nothing 
 more visible than that the mind, without the help of any 
 proof, or reflection on either of these general propositions, 
 perceives so clearly, and knows so certainly, that the idea of 
 white is the idea of white, and not the idea of blue ; and that 
 the idea of white, when it is in the mind, is there, and is not 
 absent ; that the consideration of these axioms can add 
 nothing to the evidence or certainty of its knowledge. Just
 
 204: OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 SO it is (as every one may experiment in himself) in all the 
 ideas a man has in his mind : he knows each to be itself, and 
 not to be another ; and to be in his mind, and not away 
 when it is there, with a cei-tainty that cannot be greater ; 
 and, therefore, the truth of no general proposition can be 
 known with a greater certainty, nor add anjd^hing to this. 
 So that, in respect of identity, our intuitive knowledge 
 reaches as far as our ideas ; and we are capable of making as 
 many self-evident propositions, as we have names for distinct 
 ideas. And I appeal to every one's own mind, whether this 
 proposition, a circle is a circle, be not as self-evident a propo- 
 sition as that consisting of more general terms, whatsoever is, 
 is ; and again, whether this proposition, blue is not red, be 
 not a proposition that the mind can no more doubt of, as 
 soon as it understands the words, than it does of that axiom. 
 It is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be ; and 
 so of all the like. 
 
 5. II. In Co-existence we have few self-evident Propositions. 
 — Secondly, as to co-existence, or such necessary connexion 
 between two ideas, that, in the subject where one of them is 
 supposed, there the other must necessarily be also : of such 
 agreement or disagreement as this, the mind has an imme- 
 diate perception but in very few of them. And, therefore, 
 in this sort we have but very little intuitive knowledge ; nor 
 are there to be found very many propositions that are self- 
 evident, though some there are ; v, g., the idea of filling a 
 place equal to the contents of its superfices, being annexed to 
 our idea of body, I think it is a self-evident proposition, that 
 two bodies cannot be in the same place. 
 
 G. III. Iti other Relations we tnay have. — Thirdly, As to 
 the relations of modes, mathematicians have framed many 
 a:iioms concerning that one relation of equality. As, equals 
 taken from equals, the remainder ■will be equal ; which, with 
 the rest of that kind, however they are received for maxims 
 by the mathematicians, and are unquestionable truths ; yet, 
 I think, that any one who considei'S them will not find that 
 they have a clearer self-evidence than these, that one and one 
 are equal to two ; that if you take from the five fingers of 
 one hand two, and from the five fingers of the other 
 hand two, the remaining numbers will be equal. These 
 and a thousand other such propositions may be found in
 
 CHAP. VII.] OF MAXIMS. 205 
 
 numbers, which, at the very first hearing, force the assent, 
 and cany with them an equal, ii' not greater clearness, than 
 those mathematical axioms. 
 
 7. IV. Concerning real Existence, toe have none. — Fourthly, 
 as to real existence, since that has no connexion with any 
 other of our ideas, but that of oiu'selves, and of a first being, 
 we have in that, concerning the real existence of all other 
 beings, not so much as deraonstx'ative, much less a self- 
 evident knowledge ; and, therefore, concei'ning those there 
 are no maxims. 
 
 8. These Axioms do not much influence our otiier Knowledge. 
 — In the next place let us consider, what influence these 
 received maxims have upon the other parts of our knowledge. 
 The rules established in the schools, that all reasonings are 
 " Ex prsecognitis et prseconcessis," seem to lay the foundation 
 of all other knowledge in these maxims, and to suppose 
 them to be prsecognita ; whereby, I think, are meant these 
 two things : first, that these axioms are those truths that are 
 first known to the mind. And, secondly, that upon them 
 the other parts of our knowledge depend. 
 
 9. Because they are not the Trutlis we first knew. — First, 
 That they are not the truths first known to the mind is 
 evident to experience, as we have shown in another place. 
 (Book I. chap, ii.) Who perceives not that a child certainly 
 knows that a stranger is not its mother; that its sucking- 
 bottle is not the rod, long before he knows that it is impos- 
 sible for the same thing to be and not to be ? And how 
 many truths are there about numbers, which it is obvious to 
 observe that the mind is perfectly acquainted with, and 
 fully convinced of, before it ever thought on these general 
 maxims, to which mathematicians, in their arguings, do 
 sometimes refer them 1 Whereof the reason is very plain : 
 for that which makes the mind assent to such propositions, 
 being nothing else but the perception it has of the agreement 
 or disagreement of its ideas, according as it finds them 
 affirmed or denied one of another, in words it understands ; 
 and every idea being known to be what it is, and every two 
 distinct ideas being known not to be the same ; it must 
 necessarily follow, that such self-evident truths must be first 
 known which consist of ideas that are first in the mind : and 
 the ideas first in the mind, it is evident, are those of par- 
 ticular things, from whence, by slow degrees, the understand-
 
 20G OP HUMAN UNDERSTA2fDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 ing proceeds to some few general ones ; ■which being taken 
 from the ordinary and familiar objects of sense, are settled in 
 the mind, with general names to them. Thus particular 
 ideas &re fii-st received and distinguished, and so knowledge 
 got about them ; and next to them, the less general or spe- 
 cific, which ai'e next to particular : for abstract ideas aj'e 
 not so obvious or easy to children, or the yet unexercised 
 mind, as particular ones. If they seem so to grown men, 
 it is only because by constant and familiar use they are made 
 so. For when we nicely reflect upon them, we shall find 
 that general ideas are fictions and contrivances of the mind, 
 that carry diflficulty with them, and do not so easily oflfer 
 themselves as we are apt to imagine. For example, does it 
 not require some pains and skill to form the general idea of 
 a triangle, (which is yet none of the most abstract, compre- 
 hensive, and difiicult,) for it must be neither oblique nor 
 rectangle, neither equilateral, equicrural, nor scalenon ; but 
 all and none of these at once.* In efiect, it is sometliing 
 imperfect, that cannot exist ; an idea wherein some parts of 
 several different and inconsistent ideas are put together. It 
 is true, the mind, in this imperfect state, has need of such 
 ideas, and makes all the haste to them it can, for the conve- 
 niency of communication and enlargement of knowledge, to 
 both which it is naturally very much inclined. But yet one 
 has reason to suspect such ideas are marks of our imperfec- 
 tion ; at least, this is enough to show that the most abstract 
 and general ideas are not those that the mind is first and 
 most easily acqviainted with, not such as its earliest know- 
 ledge is conversant about. 
 
 10. Because on them the otlier Pa/rts of our Knoviledge do 
 not depend. — Secondly, from what has been said it plainly 
 follows, that these magnified maxims are not the principles 
 
 * "With this idea Bishop Berkeley makes himself particularly merry. 
 "If any man," says he, "has the faculty of framing in his mind such an 
 idea of a triangle as is here described, it is in vain to pretend to dispute 
 him out of it, nor would I go about it. All I desire is, that the reader 
 would fuUy and certainly inform himself, whether he has such an idea 
 or not. And this, methinks, can be no hard task for any one to per- 
 form. What more easy than for any one to look a little into his own 
 thoughts, and there try whether he has, or can attain to have, an idea 
 that shall correspond with the description that is here given of the gene- 
 ral idea of a triangle, which is, neither oblique, nor rectangle, equilateral, 
 equicrural, nor scalenon, but all and none of these at once?" (Intr. to 
 Prin. of Hum. Knowl., § 13.)
 
 CHAP. VII.] OF MAXIMS. 207 
 
 and foundations of all our other knowledge. For if there 
 be a great many other tiiiths, which have as much self-evi- 
 dence as they, and a great many that we know before them, 
 it is impossible they should be the principles from which we 
 deduce all other truths. Is it impossible to know that one and 
 two are equal to three, but by virtue of this, or some such axiom, 
 viz., the whole is equal to all its parts taken together 1 Many a 
 one knows that one and two are equal to three, without having 
 heard or thought on that or any other axiom by which it 
 might be proved ; and knows it as certainly as any other 
 man knows, that the whole is equal to all its parts, or any 
 other maxim, and all from the same reason of self-evidence ; 
 the equality of those ideas being as visible and certain to 
 him without that or any other axiom as with it, it needing 
 no proof to make it perceived. Nor after the knowledge, 
 that the whole is equal to all its parts, does he know that 
 one and two are equal to three, better or more certainly than 
 he did before. For if there be any odds in those ideas, the 
 whole and parts are more obscui'e, or at least more difficult 
 to be settled in the mind than those of one, two, and three. 
 And indeed, I think, I may ask these men, who %\411 needs 
 have all knowledge, besides those genei-al principles them- 
 selves, to depend on general, innate, and self-evident princi- 
 ples ; what principle is requisite to prove that one and one 
 are two, that two and two are four, that three times two are 
 six 1 Which being known, without any proof, do evince, 
 that either all knowledge does not dejjend on certain prsecog- 
 nita or general maxims, called principles, or else that these 
 are principles ; and if these are to be counted principles, a 
 gi'eat part of numeration will be so. To which, if we add all 
 the self-evident propositions which may be made about all 
 our distinct ideas, principles will be almost infinite, at least 
 innmnerable, which men arrive to the knowledge of, at differ- 
 ent ages ; and a gi-eat many of these innate principles they 
 never come to know all their lives. But whether they come 
 in view of the mind earlier or later, this is true of them, that 
 they are all known by their native evidence, are wholly inde- 
 pendent, receive no light, nor are capable of any proof one 
 from another ; much less the more particular from the more 
 general, or the more simple from the more compounded ; 
 the more simple and less abstract being the most familiar, and
 
 208 OP HUMAN UNDEKSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 the easier and earlier apprehended. But whichever be the clear- 
 est ideas, the evidence and certainty of all such propositions 
 is in this, that a man sees the same idea to be the same idea, 
 and infallibly perceives two different ideas to be different 
 ideas. For when a man has in his understanding the ideas 
 of one and of two, the idea of yellow, and the idea of blue, 
 he cannot but certainly know that the idea of one is the idea 
 of one, and not the idea of two ; and that the idea of yellow 
 is the idea of yellow, and not the idea of blue. For a man 
 cannot confound the ideas in his mind, which he has distinct : 
 that would be to have them confused and distinct at the 
 same time, which is a contradiction ; and to have none dis- 
 tinct, is to have no use of our faculties, to have no knowlege 
 at all. And, therefore, what idea soever is affirmed of itself, 
 or whatsoever two entire distinct ideas are denied one of 
 another, the mind cannot but assent to such a proposition 
 aS infallibly true, as soon as it understands the terms, without 
 hesitation or need of proof, or regarding those made in more 
 general terms, and called maxims. 
 
 11. What use tliese general Maxims have. — ^What shall we 
 then say? Are these general maxims of no use? By no 
 means; though perhaps their use is not that which it is 
 commonly taken to be. But since doubting in the least 
 of what hath been by some men ascribed to these maxims may 
 be apt to be cried out against, as overtiirning the foun- 
 dations of all the sciences; it may be worth while to con- 
 sider them with respect to other j)arts of om* knowledge, 
 and examine moi*e particularly to what purposes they serve, 
 and to what not. 
 
 1. It is evident from what has been already said, that they 
 are of no use to prove or confirm less general self-evident 
 propositions. 
 
 2. It is as plain that they are not, nor have been the 
 foundations whereon any science hath been budt. There 
 is, I know, a great deal of talk propagated from scholastic 
 men, of sciences and the maxims on which they are built; 
 but it has been my ill-luck never to meet with any such 
 sciences, mxxch less any one built upon these two maxims, 
 what is, is; and it is impossible for the same thing to be 
 and not to be. And I would be glad to be shown where 
 any such science, erected upon these or any other general
 
 CHAP, VII,] OF MAXIMS, 209 
 
 axioms is to be found, and should be obliged to any one 
 who would lay before me the frame and system of any 
 science so built on these or any such like maxims, that could 
 not be shown to stand as firm without any considei-ation 
 of them. I ask, Avhether these general maxims have not 
 the same use in the study of divinity, and in theological 
 questions, that they have in other sciences? They serve 
 here, too, to silence wranglers, and put an end to dispute. 
 But I think that nobody will therefore say, that the Christian 
 religion is built upon these maxims, or that the knowledge 
 we have of it is derived from these principles. It is from 
 revelation we have received it, and without revelation 
 these maxims had never been able to help us to it. When 
 we find out an idea by whose intervention we discover the 
 connexion of two others, this is a revelation from God to 
 us, by the voice of reason; for we then come to know a 
 truth that we did not know before. When God declares 
 any truth to us, this is a revelation to us by the voice of 
 his Spirit, and we are advanced in our knowledge. But 
 in neither of these do we receive our light or knowledge 
 from maxims. But in the one, the things themselves afford 
 it, and we see the truth in them by perceiving their agree- 
 ment or disagreement: in the other, God himself affords it 
 immediately to us, and we see the truth of what he says in 
 his unerring veracity. 
 
 3, They are not of use to help men forward in the ad- 
 vancement of sciences, or new discoveries of yet unknown 
 truths. Mr. Newton, in his never enough to be admired 
 book, has demonstrated several propositions, which are so 
 many new truths, before unknown to the world, and are 
 further advances in mathematical knowledge : but, for the 
 discovery of these, it was not the general maxims, what is, 
 is; 01', the whole is bigger than a part, or the like, that 
 helped him. These were not the clues that led him into 
 the discovery of the tnith and certainty of those propo- 
 sitions. Nor was it by them that he got the knowledge 
 of those demonstrations; but by finding out intermediate 
 ideas that showed the agreement or disagrement of the ideas, 
 as expressed in the jDropositions he demonstrated. This 
 is the greatest exercise and improvement of human under- 
 standing in the enlarging of knowledge, and advancing the 
 
 VOL. II, P
 
 210 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK VI. 
 
 sciences; wherein they are far enough from receiving any 
 help fTOm the contemplation of these or the like magnified 
 maxims. Would those who have this traditional admiration 
 of these propositions, that they think no step can be made 
 in knowledge without the support of an axiom, no stone 
 laid in tlie building of the sciences without a general maxim, 
 but distinguish between the method of acquiring knowledge, 
 and of communicating — between the method of raising any 
 science and that of teaching it to others, as far as it is ad- 
 vanced — they would see that those general maxims were 
 not the foundations on which the first discovei'ers raised 
 their admirable structures, nor the keys that unlocked and 
 opened those secrets of knowledge. Though afterwards, 
 when schools were erected, and sciences had their professors 
 to teach what others had found out, they often made use 
 of maxims, i. e., laid down certain propositions which were 
 self-evident, or to be received for true; which being settled 
 in the minds of their scholars as unquestionable verities, 
 they on occasion made use of, to convince them of truths 
 in particular instances that were not so familiar to their 
 minds as those general axioms which had before been in- 
 culcated to them, and carefully settled in their minds. 
 Though these particular instances, when well reflected on, 
 are no less self-evident to the understanding than the general 
 maxims brought to confirm them : and it was in those par- 
 ticular instances that the first discoverer found the truth, 
 without the help of the general maxims ; and so may any one 
 else do, who with attention considers them. 
 
 To come, thei-efore, to the use that is made of maxims. 
 
 1. They are of use, as has been observed, in the ordinary 
 methods of teaching sciences as far as they are advanced ; 
 but of little or none in advancing them further. 
 
 2. They are of use in disputes, for the silencing of ob- 
 stinate wranglers, and bringing those contests to some con- 
 clusion. Whether a need of them to that end came not in 
 the manner following, I crave leave to inquire. The schools 
 having made disputation the touchstone of men's abilities, 
 and the criterion of knowledge, adjudged victory to him 
 that kept the field : and he that had the last word was con- 
 cluded to have the better of tlie argument, if not of the 
 cause. But because by this means there was like to be
 
 CHAP. VII.] OF MAXIMS. ' 211 
 
 no decision between skilful combatants, whilst one never 
 failed of a medius terminus to prove any proposition ; and 
 the other could as constantly, without or with a distinction, 
 deny the major or minor; to prevent, as much as could be, 
 running out of disputes into an endless ti-ain of syllogisms, 
 certain general propositions — most of them, indeed, self- 
 evident — were introduced into the schools; which being 
 such as all men allowed and agreed in, were looked on as 
 general measures of truth, and served instead of principles 
 (where the disputants had not lain down any other between 
 them) beyond which there was no going, and which must 
 not be receded from by either side. And thus these maxims 
 getting the name of principles, beyond which men in dis- 
 pute could not retreat, were by mistake taken to be ori- 
 ginals and sources, from whence all knowledge liegan, and 
 the foundations whereon the sciences were built. Because 
 when in their disputes they came to any of these, they 
 stopped there, and went no further, the matter was deter- 
 mined. But how much this is a mistake, hath been already 
 shown. 
 
 This method of the schools, which have been thought the 
 fountains of knowledge, introduced, as I suppose, the like use 
 of these maxims into a great part of conversation out of the 
 schools, to stop the mouths of cavillers, whom any one is 
 excused from arguing any longer with, when they deny 
 these general self-evident principles received by all reason- 
 able men who have once thought of them : but yet their use 
 herein is but to put an end to wi-angling. They in truth, 
 when urged in such cases, teach nothing: that is already 
 done by the intermediate ideas made use of in the debate, 
 whose connexion may be seen without the help of those 
 maxims, and so the truth known before the maxim is pro- 
 duced, and the argument brought to a first principle. Men 
 would give off a wrong ai'gument before it came to that, if 
 in their disputes they proposed to themselves the finding and. 
 embracing of truth, and not a contest for victoiy. And 
 thus maxims have their use to put a stop to their perverse- 
 ness, whose ingenuity should have yielded sooner. But the 
 method of the schools having allowed and encouraged men 
 to oppose and resist evident truth till they are baffled, i. e., 
 till they ai'e reduced to contradict themselves or some esta- 
 
 p 2
 
 212 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV, 
 
 bli«hed principle; it is no wonder tliat they should not in 
 civil conversation be ashamed of that which in the schools is 
 counted a virtue and a glory, obstinately to maintain that 
 side of the question they have chosen, whether true or false, 
 to the last extremity, even after conviction. A strange way 
 to attain truth and knowledge, and that Avhicli I think the 
 rational part of mankind, not corrupted by education, could 
 scarce believe should ever be admitted amongst the lovers 
 of truth, and students of religion or nature, or introduced 
 into the seminaries of those who are to propagate the 
 truths of religion or philosophy amongst the ignorant and 
 unconvinced. How much such a way of learning is like 
 to turn young men's minds from the sincere search and 
 love of truth ; — nay, and to make them doubt whether 
 there is any such thing — or, at least, worth the adhering 
 to — I shall not now inquire. This I think, that, bating 
 those places, which brought the peripatetic philosophy into 
 their schools, where it continued many ages, without teach- 
 ing the world anything but the art of Avrangling, these 
 maxims were nowhere thought the foundations on which 
 the sciences were built, nor the great helps to the advance- 
 ment of knowledge. 
 
 As to these general maxims, therefore, they are, as I have 
 said, of great use in disputes, to stop the mouths of wrang- 
 lers; but not of much use to the discovery of unknown 
 truths, or to help the mind forwards in its search after 
 knowledge. For who ever began to build his knowledge on 
 this general proposition, what is, is; or, it is impossible for 
 the same thing to be and not to be: and from either of 
 these, as from a principle of science, deduced a system of 
 useful knowledge ? Wrong opinions often involving con- 
 tradictions, one of these maxims, as a touchstone, may serve 
 well to show whither they lead. But yet, however fit to lay 
 open the absurdity or mistake of a man's reasoning or 
 opinion, they are of very little use for enlightening the 
 understanding : and it will not be found that the mind re- 
 ceives much help from them in its progress in knowledge, 
 which would be neither less, nor less certain, were these two 
 general propositions never thought on. It is true, as I have 
 said, they sometimes serve in argumentation to stop a 
 wrangler's mouth, by showing the absurdity of what he
 
 CHAP. VII.] OF MAXIMS. 213 
 
 saith, and by- exposing him to the shame of contradicting 
 what all the world knows, and he himself cannot hut ov/n 
 to be true. But it is one thing to show a man that he is 
 in an error, and another to put him in possession of truth ; 
 and I would fain know what truths these two propositions 
 are able to teach, and by theii* influence make us know, 
 which we did not know before, or could not know without 
 them. Let us reason from them as well as we can, they are 
 only about identical predications, and influence, if any at 
 all, none but such. Each particular proposition concerning 
 identity or diversity is as clearly and certainly known in 
 itself, if attended to, as either of these general ones; only 
 these general ones, as serving in all cases, are therefore more 
 inculcated and insisted on. As to other less general maxims, 
 many of them are no more than bare verbal pi-opositions, 
 and teach us nothing but the respect and import of names 
 one to another. " The whole is equal to all its parts : " — 
 what real tnith, I beseech you, does it teach us? What 
 more is contained in that maxim, than what the signification 
 of the word totiim, or the whole, does of itself import? And 
 he that knows that the word whole stands for what is made 
 up of all its parts, knows very little less than that the whole 
 is equal to all its parts. And, upon the same ground, I 
 think that this propositon, " A hill is higher than a valley," 
 and several the like, may also pass for maxims. But yet 
 masters of mathematics, when they would, as teachers of 
 what they know, initiate others in that science, do not with- 
 out reason place this and some other such maxims at the 
 entrance of their systems; that their scholars, having in the 
 beginning perfectly acquainted their thoughts Avith these 
 propositions made in such general terms, may be used to 
 make such reflections, and have these more general propo- 
 sitions, as formed rules and sayings, ready to apply to all 
 particular cases. Not that if they be equally weighed, they 
 are more clear and e^ddent than the particular instances 
 they are brought to confinn; but that, being more familiar 
 to the mind, the very naming them is enough to satisfy the 
 understanding. Bat this, I say, is more from our custom 
 of using them, and the establishment they have got in our 
 minds by our often thinking of them, than from the difierent 
 evidence of the things. But before custom has settled me-
 
 21-i OF HUMAN UNDERSTA>T)DfG. [eOOK IV. 
 
 tliods of thinking and reasoning in our minds, I am apt to 
 imagine it is quite otherwise; and that the child, when a 
 part of his apple is taken away, knows it better in that 
 particular instance, than by this general proposition, " The 
 whole is equal to all its parts;" and that, if one of these 
 have need to be confirmed to him by the other, the general 
 has more need to be let into his mind by the particular, than 
 the particular by the general. For, in particulars, our 
 knowledge begins, and so spreads itself, by degrees, to gene- 
 rals. Though afterwards the mind takes the quite contrary 
 course, and having di'awn its knowledge into as general pro- 
 positions as it can, makes those familiar to its thoughts, and 
 accustoms itself to have recoiu'se to them, as to the standards 
 of truth and falsehood. By which familiar use of them — as 
 rules to measure the truth of other propositions — it comes in 
 time to be thought, that more pai'ticular propositions have 
 their truth and evidence from their conformity to these 
 more general ones, which in discourse and argumentation 
 are so frequently urged, and constantly admitted. And 
 this I think to be the reason why amongst so many self- 
 evident propositions, the most genei-al only have had the title 
 of maxims. 
 
 12. Maxims, if Care be not taken in the Use of Words, iiuiy 
 'prove Contradictions. — One thing further, I think, it may 
 not be amiss to obsen-e concerning these general maxims, 
 that they are so far from improving or establishing our 
 minds in true knowledge, that if our notions be wrong, loose, 
 or unsteady, and we resign up our thoughts to the sound of 
 words, rather than fix them on settled, determined ideas of 
 things; I say, these general maxims will serve to confirm us 
 in mistakes; and in such a way of use of woi'ds, which is most 
 common, will sem^e to prove contradictions: v. g., he that 
 with Descartes shall frame in his mind an idea of what he 
 calls body to be nothing but extension,* may easily demon- 
 strate that there is no vacuum, i. e., no space void of body, 
 by this maxim, " What is, is." For the idea to which he 
 annexes the name body, being bare extension, his knowledge 
 that space cannot be without body, is certain. For he 
 knows his own idea of extension clearly and distinctly, and 
 knows that it is what it is, and not another idea, though it 
 * See note, Book II. ch. xiii. p. 288.— Ed.
 
 CHAP. VII.] OP MAXIMS. 215 
 
 be called by these three names: extension, body, space. 
 Which three words, standing for one and the same idea, 
 may, no doubt, with the same evidence and certainty be 
 affirmed one of another, as each of itself : and it is as certain, 
 that, whilst I use them all to stand for one and the same 
 idea, this predication is as true and identical in its significa- 
 tion, that space is body, as this predication is true and 
 identical, that body is body, both in sigaitication and sound. 
 
 '13. Instance in Vacuum. — But if another should come 
 and make to himself another idea, different from Descartes's, 
 of the thing, which yet with Descartes he calls by the same 
 name body, and make his idea, which lie expresses by the 
 word body, to be of a thing that hath both extension and 
 solidity together; he will as easily demonstrate, that there 
 may be a vacuum or space without a body, as Descartes de- 
 monstrated the contrary; because the idea to which he gives 
 the name space being barely the simple one of extension, and 
 the idea to which he gives the name body being the complex 
 idea of extension and resistibility or solidity, together in the 
 same subject, these two ideas are not exactly one alid the 
 same, but in the understanding as distinct as the ideas of 
 one and two, white and black, or as of corporeity and 
 humanity, if I may use those barbai-ous terms ; and therefore 
 the predication of them in our minds, or in words standing 
 for them, is not identical, but the negation of them one of 
 another; viz., this proposition: Extension or space is not 
 body, is as true and evidently certain as this maxim. It is 
 impossible for the same thiug to be and not to be, can make 
 any proposition. 
 
 14. Tliei/ 2^'rove not the Existence of Things without us. — 
 But yet, though both these propositions (as you see) may be 
 equally demonstrated, viz., tliat there may be a vacuum, and 
 that there cannot be a vacuum, by these two certain prin- 
 ciples, viz., what is, is ; and the same thing cannot be and 
 not be : yet neither of these principles will serve to prove to 
 us, that any or what bodies do exist ; for that we are left to 
 our senses to discover to us as far as they can. Those 
 universal and self-evident principles being only our constant, 
 clear, and distinct knowledge of our own ideas, more general 
 or comprehensive, can assure us of nothing that passes with- 
 out the mind: their ceitainty is founded only upon the
 
 216 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 knowledge we have of each idea by itself, and of its dis- 
 tinction from others; about which we cannot be mistaken 
 whilst they are in our minds, though we may be and 
 often are mistaken when we retain the names without the 
 ideas; or use them confusedly, sometimes for one and some- 
 times for another idea. In which cases the force of these 
 axioms, reaching only to the sound, and not the signification 
 of the words, serves only to lead us into confusion, mistake, 
 and error. It is to show men that these maxims, however 
 cried up for the great guards of truth, will not secure them 
 from error in a careless, loose use of their words, that I have 
 made this remark. In all that is here suggested concerning 
 their little use for the improvement of knowledge, or dan- 
 gerous use in undetermined ideas, I have been far enough 
 from saying or intending they should be laid aside, as some 
 have been too forward to charge me. I aflB,rm them to 
 be tiniths, self-evident truths, and so cannot be laid aside. 
 As far as their influence will reach, it is in vain to en- 
 deavour, nor will I attempt to abridge it. But yet, with- 
 out any injury to truth or knowledge, I may have reason 
 to think their use is not answerable to the great stress 
 which seems to be laid on them ; and I may warn men not 
 to make an ill use of them, for the confirming themselves 
 in errors. 
 
 15. TJieir Apjylication dangerous about complex Icl,eas. — 
 But let them be of what use they will in verbal propositions, 
 they cannot discover or prove to us the least knowledge of 
 the nature of substances, as they are found and exist without 
 us, any further than grounded on experience. And though 
 the consequence of these two propositions, called principles, 
 be very clear, and their use not dangerous or hui-tful, in the 
 probation of such things, wherein there is no need at aU of 
 them for proof, but such as are clear by themselves without 
 them, viz., where our ideas are determined, and known by 
 the names that stand for them : yet when these j^rinciples, 
 viz., what is, is, and it is impossible for the same thing to be 
 and not to be, are made use of in the probation of pro- 
 positions, wherein are words standing for complex ideas; 
 V. g., man, horse, gold, virtue ; there they are of infinite 
 danger, and most commonly make men receive and retain 
 falsehood for manifest truth, and uncertainty for demon-
 
 CHAP. VII.] OF MAXIMS. 217 
 
 stration; upon which follow error, obstinacy, and all the 
 mi.schiefs that can happen from wrong reasoning. The 
 reason whereof is not that these principles are less true, of 
 of less force in proving propositions made of terms standing 
 for complex ideas, than where the propositions are about 
 simple ideas. But because men mistake generally, thinking 
 that where the same terms are preserved, the propositions 
 are about the same things, though the ideas they stand for 
 are in truth diffei'ent ; therefore these maxims ai"e made use 
 of to support those which in sound and appearance are con- 
 tradictory propositions; as is clear in the demonstrations 
 above-mentioned about a vacuum : so that whilst men take 
 words for things, as usually they do, these maxims may and 
 do commonly serve to prove contradictoiy propositions; as 
 shall yet be further, made manifest. 
 
 1 6. Instance in Man. — For instance, let man be that con- 
 cerning which you Avould by these first principles demon- 
 strate anything, and we shall see, that so far as demon- 
 stration is by these principles, it is only verbal, and gives us 
 no certain, universal, true proposition or knowledge of any 
 being existing without us. First, a child having framed the 
 idea of a man, it is probable that his idea is just like that 
 picture which the painter makes of the visible api^earances 
 joined together ; and such a complication of ideas together 
 in liis understanding, makes up the single complex idea 
 which he calls man, whereof white or flesh-colour in England 
 being one, the child can demonstrate to you that a negro is 
 not a man, because white colour was one of the constant 
 simple ideas of the complex idea he calls man ; and therefore 
 he can demonstrate by the principle, it is imjDossible for the 
 same thing to be and not to be, that a negro is not a man ; 
 the foundation of his certainty being not that universal propo- 
 sition, which perhaps he never heard nor thought of, but the 
 clear, distinct perception he hath of his own simple ideas of 
 black and white, which he cannot be persuaded to take, nor 
 can ever mistake one for anothei', whether he knows that 
 maxim or no : and to this child, or any one who hath such 
 an idea, which he calls man, can you never demonstrate that 
 a man hath a soul, because his idea of man includes no such 
 notion or idea in it ; and therefore, to him, the principle of 
 what is, is, proves not this matter, but it dej)ends upon
 
 218 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 collection and observation, by which he is to make his com- 
 plex idea called man. 
 
 1 7. Secondly, Another that hath gone further in framing 
 and collecting the idea he calls man, and to the outward 
 shape adds laughter and rational discourse, may demonstrate 
 that infants and changelings are no men : by this maxim, it 
 is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be; and I 
 have discoursed with very rational men, who have actually 
 denied that they are men. 
 
 18. Thirdly, Perhaps another makes up the complex idea 
 which he calls man, only out of the ideas of body in 
 general, and the powers of language and reason, and leaves 
 out the shape wholly; this man is able to demonstrate that 
 a man may have no hands, but be quadrupes, neither of those 
 being included in his idea of man : and in whatever body or 
 shape he found speech and reason joined, that was a man; 
 because, having a clear knowledge of such a complex idea, 
 it is certain that what is, is. 
 
 19. Little Use of these Maodtns in Proofs where we have 
 dear and disthict Ideas. — So that, if rightly considered, I 
 think we may say, that where our ideas ai-e determined in 
 our minds, and have annexed to them by us known and 
 steady names under those settled determinations, there is 
 little need, or no use at all of these maxims, to prove the 
 agi-eement or disagreement of any of them. He that cannot 
 discern the truth or falsehood of such propositions without 
 the help of these and the like maxims, will not be helped by 
 these maxims to do it; since he cannot be sup^josed to know 
 the truth of these maxims themselves without proof, if he 
 cannot know the truth of others without proof, which are as 
 self-evident as these. Upon this ground it is, that intuitive 
 knowledge neither requires nor admits any proof, one part 
 of it more than another. He that will suppose it does, takes 
 away the foundation of all knowledge and certainty; and he 
 that needs any proof to make him certain, and give his 
 assent to this proposition, that two are equal to two, will 
 also have need of a proof to make him admit, that what is, 
 is. He that needs a probation to convince him that two are 
 not three, that white is not black, that a triangle is not a 
 circle, &c., or any other two determined, distinct ideas are 
 not one and the same, will need also a demonstration to
 
 CHAP. VIII.] OF TRIFLING PROPOSITIONS. 219 
 
 convince him that it is impossible for the same thing to be 
 and not to be. 
 
 20. Their Use dangerous, where ov/r Ideas are confused. — 
 And as these maxims are of little nse where wo have deter- 
 mined ideas, so they are, as I have showed, of dangerous 
 use where our ideas are not determined; and where we use 
 words that are not annexed to determined ideas, but such 
 as are of a loose and wandering signification, sometimes 
 standing for one, and sometimes for another idea ; from 
 which follow mistake and error, which these maxims 
 (brought as proofs to establish propositions, wherein the 
 terms stand for undetermined ideas) do by their authority 
 confirm and rivet. 
 
 CHAPTER YIIL 
 
 OF TRIFLING PROPOSITIONS. 
 
 1. Some Propositions bring no Increase to our Knowledge. — 
 Whether the maxims treated of in the foregoing chapter be 
 of that use to real knowledge as is generally svipposed, I 
 leave to be considered. This, I think, may confidently be 
 affirmed, that there are universal propositions, which, though 
 they be certainly true, yet they add no light to our under- 
 standings, bring no increase to our knowledge. Such are — 
 
 2. As, First, identical F7'02)Ositions. — First, All purely 
 identical propositions. These obviously and at first blush 
 appear to contain no insti-uction in them ; for when we 
 affirm the said term of itself, whether it be barely verbal, or 
 whether it contains any clear and real idea, it shows us 
 nothing but what we must certainly know before, whether 
 such a proposition be either made by or proposed to us. 
 Indeed, that most general one, what is, is, may serve some- 
 times to show a man the absui'dity he is guilty of, when, by 
 circumlocution or equivocal terms, he would iu particular 
 instances deny the same thing of itself; because nobody will 
 so openly bid defiance to common sense, as to affirm visible 
 and direct contradictions in plain words; or, if he does, a 
 man is excused if he breaks off any further discourse with 
 him. But yet I think I may say, that neither that received 
 maxim, nor any other identical proposition, teaches us any-
 
 220 OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. [bOOK IV. 
 
 thing ; and though in such kind of propositions this great 
 and magnified maxim, boasted to be the foundation of de- 
 monstration, may be and often is made use of to confirm 
 them, yet all it proves amounts to no more than this, that 
 the same word may with great certainty be affirmed of itself, 
 without any doubt of the truth of any such proposition; and 
 let me add, also, without any real knowledge. 
 
 3. For at this rate, any very ignorant person, who can but 
 make a proposition, and knows what he means when he says 
 ay or no, may make a million of propositions of whose truth 
 he may be infallibly certain, and yet not know one thing in the 
 world thereby ; v. g., what is a soul, is a soul ; or, a soul is a 
 soul ; a spirit is a spirit ; a fetiche is a fetiche, &c.* These 
 all being equivalent to tliis proposition, viz., what is, is; i. e., 
 what hath existence, hath existence, or, who hath a soul, 
 hath a soul. What is this more than trifling with words'? 
 It is but like a monkey shifting his oyster from one hand to 
 the other; and had he but words, might no doubt have said, 
 " Oyster in right hand is subject, and oyster in left hand is 
 predicate:" and so might have made a self-evident proposi- 
 tion of oyster, i.e., oyster is oyster; and yet, with all this, 
 not have been one whit the wiser or more knowing : and 
 that way of handling the matter would much at one have 
 satisfied the monkey's hunger, or a man's understanding, and 
 they would have improved in knowledge and bulk together. 
 
 I know there are some who, because identical propositions 
 are self-evident, show a great concern for them, and think 
 they do great service to philosophy by crying them up, as if 
 in them was contained all knowledge, and the understand- 
 ing were led into all truth by them only ; I grant as for- 
 wardly as any one, that they are all true and self-evident. I 
 
 * Tlie objects of worship among the people of Guinea, and the interior 
 of Africa generally, except where the Mahommedan religion prevails, 
 are denominated Fetishes, and consist of the first objects which, on issuing 
 forth from their huts, they behold in the morning. Sometimes a per- 
 manent worship appears to be paid to particular animals, as the ox, the 
 goat, with several kinds of birds. Eocks, too, lakes, trees, and foun- 
 teins, share the indiscriminate adoration of those superstitious races. 
 See Barbot's Travels in Nigritia, book i. c. 8 ; b. xi. c. 2 — 6. Cressyos 
 conjectures, with much probability, that the animal worship of the Egyp- 
 tians was of African origin, and derived from Fetischism. (Rel. de I'An- 
 tiquite', 1. i. p. 500.)— Ed.
 
 CHAP. VIII.] OF TRIFLING PROPOSITIONS. 221 
 
 grant further, that the foundation of all our knowledge lies 
 in the faculty we have of jierceiving the same idea to be the 
 same, and of discerning it from those that are dificreut, as I 
 have shown in the foregoing chapter. But how that vin- 
 dicates the making use of identical propositions, for the im- 
 provement of knowledge, from the imputation of trifling, I 
 do not see. Let any one repeat, as often as he pleases, that 
 the will is the will, or lay what stress on it he thinks fit; of 
 what use is this, and an infinite the like propositions, for the 
 enlarging our knowledge? Let a man abound, as much as 
 the j^lenty of words which he has will permit, in such pro- 
 positions as these : a law is a law, and obligation is obliga- 
 tion ; right is right, and wrong is wrong ; will these and the 
 like ever help him to an acquaintance with ethics, or instruct 
 him or others in the knowledge of morality] Those who 
 know not, nor perhaps ever will know, what is right and 
 what is wrong, nor the measures of them, can with as much 
 assurance make, and infallibly know the trath of these and 
 all such propositions, as he that is best instructed in morality 
 can do. But what advance do such propositions give in the 
 knowledge of anything necessary or useful for their conduct ? 
 
 He would be thought to do little less than trifle, who, for 
 the enlightening the understanding in any part of knowledge, 
 should be busy with identical propositions, and insist on such 
 maxims as these: substance is substance, and body is body; 
 a vacuum is a vacuum, and a vortex is a vortex ; a centaur 
 is a centaur, and a chimera is a chimera, &c. For these and 
 all such are equally true, equally certain, and equally self- 
 evident. But yet they cannot but be counted trifling, when 
 made use of as principles of instniction, and stress laid on 
 them as helps to knowledge ; since they teach nothing but 
 what every one who is capable of discourse knows without 
 being told, viz., that the same term is the same term, and the 
 same idea the same idea. And upon this account it was 
 that I formerly did and do still think the offering and incul- 
 cating such ])ropositions, in order to give the understanding 
 any new light or iidet into the knowledge of tilings, no better 
 than trifling. 
 
 Instruction lies in something very different; and he that 
 would enlarge his own or another's mind to truths he does 
 not yet know, must find out intermediate ideas, and then
 
 322 OF HUMAN UN'DERSTA>,T)ING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 lay them in such order one by another, that the understand- 
 ing may see the agreement or disagreement of those in 
 question. Propositions that do this are instructive; but they 
 are far from such as affirm the same term of itself; which 
 is no way to advance one's self or others in any sort of know- 
 ledge. It no more helps to that, than it would help any 
 one in his learning to read, to have such propositions as 
 these inculcated to him. An A is an A, and a B is a B; 
 which a man may know as well as any schoolmaster, and 
 yet never be able to read a word as long as he lives. Nor 
 do these or any such identical propositions help him one jot 
 forwards in the skill of reading, let him make what use of 
 them he can. 
 
 If those who blame my caUing them trifling propositions 
 had but read and been at the pains to understand what I 
 have above writ in very plain English, they could not but 
 have seen that by identical propositions I mean only such, 
 wherein the same term, importing the same idea, is affirmed 
 of itself; which I take to be the proper signification of iden- 
 tical propositions: and concerning all such, I think I may 
 continue safely to say, that to propose them as instructive 
 is no better than trifling. For no one who has the use of 
 reason can miss them, where it is necessary they should be 
 taken notice of; nor doubt of their truth when he does take 
 notice of them. 
 
 But if men will call propositions identical, wherein the 
 same term is not affirmed of itself, whether they speak more 
 properly than I, others must judge : this is certain, all that 
 they say of propositions that are not identical in my sense, 
 concerns not me nor what I have said ; all that I have said 
 relating to those propositions wherein the same term is 
 affiimed of itself: and I would fain see an instance wherein 
 any such can be made use of, to the advantage and improve- 
 ment of any one's knowledge. Instances of other kinds, 
 whatever use may be made of them, concern not me, as not 
 being such as I call identical. 
 
 4. Secondly, Wlien a Part of any complex Idea is jyredi- 
 cated of the Whole. — II. Another sort of trifling propositions 
 is, when a part of the complex idea is predicated of the name 
 of the whole ; a part of the definition of the word defined. 
 Such are all propositions wherein the genus is predicated cf
 
 CHAP. VIII.] OF TRIFLING PROPOSITIONS. 223 
 
 the species, or more comprehensive of less comprehensive 
 terms; for what information, what knowledge carries this 
 proposition in it, viz.. Lead is a metal to a man who knows 
 the complex idea the name lead stands for"? all the simple 
 ideas that go to the complex one signified by the term metal, 
 being nothing but what he before comprehended and sig- 
 nified by the name lead. Indeed, to a man that knows the 
 signification of the word metal, and not of the word lead, 
 it is a shorter way to explain the signification of the word 
 lead, by saying it is a metal, which at once expresses several 
 of its simple ideas, than to enumerate them one by one, 
 telling him it is a body very heavy, fusible, and malleable. 
 
 5. As Fart of tlve Definition of the Term defined. — Alike 
 trifling it is to predicate any other part of the definition of 
 the term defined, or to affirm any one of the simj^le ideas 
 of a complex one of the name of the whole complex idea ; 
 as, All gold is fusible. For fusibility being one of the 
 simple ideas that goes to the making up the complex one 
 the sound gold stands for, what can it be but playing with 
 sounds, to affirm that of the name gold, which is compre- 
 hended in its received signification? It would be thought 
 little better than ridiculous to affirm gravely, as a truth of 
 moment, that gold is yellow; and I see not how it is any 
 jot more material to say it is fusible, unless that quality be 
 left out of the complex idea, of which the sound gold is the 
 mark in ordinaiy speech. What instruction can it carry 
 with it, to tell one that which he hath been told already, or 
 he is supposed to know before? For I am supposed to know 
 the signification of the word another uses to me, or else he 
 is to tell me. And if I know that the name gold stands for 
 this complex idea of body, yellow, heavy, fusible, malleable, 
 it will not much instruct me to put it solemnly afterwards 
 in a proposition, and gravely say, all gold is fusible. Such 
 propositions can only serve to show the disingenuity of one 
 who will go from the definition of his own terms, by re- 
 minding him sometimes of it; but carry no knowledge 
 with them, but of the signification of words, however certain 
 they be. 
 
 6. Instance, Man and Palfrey. — Every man is an animal, 
 or living body, is as certain a proposition as can be; but no 
 more conducing to the knowledge of things, than to say, a
 
 224 OF HUMAX UNDEKSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 palfrey is an ambling horse, or a neighing, ambling animal, 
 both being only about the signification of words, and make 
 me know but this : that body, sense, and motion, or power 
 of sensation and moving, ai'e three of those ideas that I 
 always comprehend and signify by the word man : and where 
 they are not to be found together, the name man belongs 
 not to that thing: and so of the other, that body, sense, and 
 a certain way of going, with a certain kind of voice, are 
 some of those ideas which I always comprehend, and signify 
 by the word palfrey; and when they are not to be found 
 together, the name palfrey belongs not to that thing. It 
 is just the same, and to the same pur]3ose, when any term 
 standing for any one or more of the simple ideas, that alto- 
 gether make up that complex idea which is called man, is 
 affirmed of the term man : v. g., suppose a Roman signified 
 by the word homo all these distinct ideas united in one sub- 
 ject, " corporietas, sensibilitas, potentia se movendi ration- 
 alitas, risibilitas ; " he might, no doubt, with great certainty, 
 universally affirm one, more, or all of these together of the 
 word homo, but did no more than say that the word homo, 
 in his country, comprehended in its signification all these 
 ideas. Much like a I'omance knight, who by the word 
 palfrey signified these ideas: body of a certain figui-e, four- 
 legged, with sense, motion, ambling, neighing, white, used 
 to have a woman on his back, might with the same certainty 
 universally afiirm also any or all of these of the word pal- 
 frey : but did thereby teach no more, but that the word 
 palfrey, in his or romance language, stood for all these, and 
 was not to be applied to anything where any of these was 
 wanting. But he that shall tell me, that in whatever thing 
 sense, motion, reason, and laughter, were imited, that thing 
 had actually a notion of God, or would be cast into a sleep 
 by opium, made indeed an instructive proposition; because 
 neither having the notion of God, nor being cast into sleep 
 by opium, being contained in the idea signified by the word 
 man, we are by such propositions taught something more 
 than barely what the word man stands for, and therefore 
 the knowledge contained in it is more than verbal. 
 
 7. For this teaches hut the Signification of Words. — Before 
 a man makes any proposition, he is supposed to understand 
 the terms he uses in it, or else he talks like a parrot, only
 
 CHAP. VIII.] OF TRIFLING PROPOSITIONS. 225 
 
 making a uoise by imitatiou, and framing certain sounds, 
 which he has learnt of others ; but not as a rational creature, 
 using theni for signs of ideas which he has in his mind. 
 The hearer also is supposed to understand the terms as the 
 speaker uses them, or else he talks jargon, and makes an 
 unintelligible noise. And therefore he triiles with words, 
 who makes such a proposition, which, when it is made, con- 
 tains no more than one of the terms does, and which a man 
 was supposed to know before; v. g., a triangle hath three 
 sides, or saffron is yellow. And this is no fflrther tolerable, 
 than where a man goes to explain his terms to one who 
 is supposed or declares himself not to understand him ; and 
 then it teaches only the signification of that word, and the 
 use of that sign. 
 
 8. But no real Knowledge. — ^We can know then the truth 
 of two soiiis of propositions with perfect certainty : the one 
 is, of those trifling propositions which have a certainty in 
 them, but it is only a verbal certainty, but not iustnic- 
 tive. And, secondly, we can know the truth, and so may 
 be certain in propositions, which affirm something of another, 
 which is a necessary consequence of its precise complex idea, 
 but not contained in it : as that the external angle of all tri- 
 angles is bigger than either of the opposite internal angles; 
 which relation of the outward angle to either of the o[)po 
 site internal angles, making no part of the complex idea 
 signified by the name triangle, this is a real truth, and con- 
 veys with it instructive real knowledge. 
 
 9. General Propositions concerning Substances are often 
 trifling. — We having little or no knowledge of what combina- 
 tions there be of simple ideas existing together in substances, 
 but by our senses, we cannot make any universal certain pro- 
 positions concerning them, any further than our nominal 
 essences lead us ; which being to a very few and inconsider- 
 able truths, in respect of those which depend on their real 
 constitutions, the general j)ropositions that are made about 
 substances, if they are certain, are for the most part but 
 trifling ; and if they are instructive, ar'e uncertain, and such 
 as we can have no knowledge of their real truth, how much 
 soever constant observation and analogy may assist our judg- 
 ment in guessing. Hence it comes to pass, that one may 
 often meet with very clear and coherent discourses, that 
 
 VOL. 11, Q
 
 22G OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 amount yet to nothing. For it is plain, that names of sub- 
 stantial beings, as wt;ll as others, as far as they have relative 
 significations affixed to them, may, with great truth, be 
 joined negatively and afiirmatively in propositions, as their 
 relative definitions make them fit to be so joined ; and pro- 
 positions consisting of such terms, may, with the same cleai'- 
 ness, be deduced one from another, as those that convey the 
 most real truths ; and all this without any knowledge of the 
 nature or reality of things existing without us. By this 
 method one may make demonstrations and undoubted propo- 
 sitions in words, and yet thereby advance not one jot in the 
 knowledge of the truth of things ; v. g., he that having learnt 
 these following words, with their ordinary mutual relative 
 acceptations annexed to them ; v. g. substance, man, animal, 
 form, soul, vegetative, sensitive, rational, may make several 
 undoubted propositions about the soul, without knowing at 
 all what the soul really is : and of this sort, a man may 
 find an infinite number of propositions, reasonings, and con- 
 clusions, in books of metaphysics, school-divinity, and some 
 sort of natural philosophy ; and, after all, know as little of 
 God, spirits, or bodies, as he did before he set out. 
 
 10. Arid ivhy. — He that hath liberty to define, i. e., to 
 determine the signification of his names of substances (as 
 certainly every one does in effect, who makes them stand for 
 his own ideas,) and makes their significations at a venture, 
 taking them from his own or other men's fancies, and not 
 from an examination or inquiry into the nature of things 
 themselves ; may with little trouble demonstrate them one 
 of another, according to those several respects and mutual 
 relations he has given them one to another ; wherein, how- 
 ever things agree or disagree in their own nature, he needs 
 mind nothing but his own notions, with the .names he hath 
 bestowed upon them ; but thereby no more increases his own 
 knowledge than he does his riches, who, taking a bag of 
 counters, calls one in a certain place a pound, another in 
 another place a shilling, and a third in a third place a penny ; 
 and so proceeding, may undoubtedly reckon right, and cast 
 up a great sum, according to his counters so placed, and 
 standing for more or less as he pleases, without being one 
 jot the richer, or without even knowing how much a pound, 
 bhilling, or penny is, but only that one is contained in the
 
 CHAP. VIII.] OF TRIFLING PROPOSITIONS. 227 
 
 other twenty times, and contains the other twelve : which a 
 man may also do in the signification of words, by making 
 them, in respect of one another, more or less, or equally 
 comprehensive. 
 
 11. Thirdly, Using Words variously is trifling with them. 
 — Though yet concerning most words used in discourses, 
 equally argumentative and controversial, there is this more to 
 be complained of, which is the worst sort of trifling, and 
 which sets us yet further from the certainty of knowledge 
 we hope to attain by them, or find in them ; viz., that most 
 writers are so far from instructing us in the nature and 
 knowledge of tilings, that they use their words loosely and 
 uncei-tainly, and do not, by using them constantly and 
 steadily in the same significations, make plain and clear 
 deductions of words one from another, and make their dis- 
 courses coherent and clear, (how little soever they were in- 
 structive,) which were not difficult to do, did they not find it 
 convenient to shelter their ignorance or obstinacy under the 
 obsciu-ity and perplexedness of their terms : to which, per- 
 haps, inadvertency and ill custom do in many men much 
 contribute. 
 
 1 2, Marks of verbal Propositions. — To conclude : Barely 
 verbal propositions may be known by these following 
 marks : 
 
 Predication in Abstract. — I. All propositions, wherein two 
 abstract terms are affirmed one of anothei', are barely about 
 the signification of sounds. For since no abstract idea can 
 be the same with any other but itself, when its abstract 
 name is affirmed of any other term, it can signify no more 
 but this : that it may or ought to be called by that name, 
 or that these two names signify the same idea. Thus, should 
 any one say that parsimony is frugality, that gratitude is 
 justice, that this or that action is or is not temperate ; how- 
 ever specious these and the like propositions may at first 
 sight seem, yet when we come to press them, and examine 
 nicely what they contain, we shall find that it all amounts to 
 nothing but the signification of those terms. 
 
 1 3. Secondly, A Part of the Definition predicated of any 
 Term. — II. All propositions wherein a part of the complex 
 idea which any term stands for is predicated of that term, 
 are only verbal ; v. g., to say that gold is a metal, or heavy. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 And thus all propositions wherein more comprehensive words, 
 called genera, are affirmed of suliordinate or less compre- 
 hensive, called species, or individuals, are barely verbal. 
 
 When by these two rules we have examined the proposi- 
 tions that make up the discourses we ordinarily meet with 
 both in and out of books, we shall perhaps find that a 
 greater part of them than is usually suspected are purely 
 about the signification of words, and contain nothing in 
 them but the use and application of these signs. 
 
 This I think I may lay down for an infallible rule, that, 
 wherever the distinct idea any word stands for is not known 
 and considered, and something not contained in the idea is 
 not affirmed or denied of it ; there our thoughts stick wholly 
 in sounds, and are able to attain no real truth or falsehood. 
 This, perhaps, if well heeded, might save us a great deal of 
 useless amusement and dispute, and very much shorten ovir 
 trouble and wandering in the search of real and time know- 
 ledge. 
 
 CHArTER IX. 
 
 OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF EXISTENCE. 
 
 1. General certain Propositions concern not Existence. — 
 Hitherto we have only considered the essences of things, 
 which being only abstract ideas, and thereby removed in our 
 thoughts from particular existence, (that being the proper 
 operation of the mind, in abstraction, to consider an idea 
 under no other existence but what it has in the understand- 
 ing,) gives us no knowledge of real existence at all. Where, 
 by the way, we may take notice that universal propositions, 
 of whose truth or falsehood we can have certain knowledge, 
 concern not existence ; and further, that all particular affir- 
 mations or negations that would not be certain if they were 
 made general, are only concerning existence ; they declaring 
 only the accidental imion or separation of ideas in things 
 existing, which, in their abstract natures, have no known 
 necessary union or repugnancy. 
 
 2. A threefold Knovjledge of Existence. — But, leaving the 
 nature of propositions and different ways of predication to be
 
 CHAP. X.] KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOP. 229 
 
 considered more at large in another place, let us proceed now 
 to inquire concerning our knowledge of the existence of 
 things, and how we come by it. I say, then, that we have 
 the knowledge of our own existence by intuition ; of the 
 existence of God by demonstration ; and of other things by 
 sensation. 
 
 3. Our Knowledge of our own Existence is Intuitive. — As 
 for our own existence, we perceive it so plainly and so cer- 
 tainly, that it neither needs nor is capable of any proof. For 
 nothing can be moi-e evident to us than our own existence : 
 I think, I reason, I feel pleasure and i^ain : can any of these 
 be more evident to me than my own existence ? If I doubt of 
 all other things, that very doubt makes me perceive my own 
 existence, and will not suffer me to doubt of that. For if 
 I know I feel jjain, it is evident I have as certain percep- 
 tion of my own existence, as of the existence of the pain I 
 feel : or if I know I doubt, I have as certain perception of 
 the existence of the thing doubting, as of that thought which 
 I call doubt. Experience then convinces us that we have 
 an intmtive knowledge of our own existence, and an internal 
 infallible perception that we are. In every act of sensation, 
 reasoning, or thinking, we are conscious to ourselves of our 
 own being ; and, in this matter, come not short of the highest 
 degree of certainty. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OP OUR KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOD. 
 
 1. We are capable of Icnowing certainly that there is a God. 
 — Though God has given us no innate ideas of himself; 
 though he has stamped no original characters on our minds, 
 wherein we may read his being ; yet having fiu'nished us 
 with those faculties oiu' minds are endowed with, he hath 
 not left himself without witness : since we have sense, per- 
 ception, and reason, and cannot want a clear proof of him, 
 as long as we carry ourselves about us. Nor can we justly 
 complain of our ignorance in this great point, since he has so 
 plentifully provided us with the means to discover and know 
 him, so far as is necessary to the end of our being, and the 
 great concernment of our happiness. But though this be
 
 230 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 the most obvious truth that reason discovers, and though 
 its evidence be (if I mistake not) equal to mathematical cer- 
 tainty ; yet it requires thought and attention, and the mind 
 must apply itself to a regular deduction of it from some part 
 of our intuitive knowledge, or else we shall be as uncertain 
 and ignorant of this as of other propositions, which are in 
 themselves capable of clear demonstration. To show, there- 
 fore, that we are capable of knowing, i. e., being certain that 
 there is a God, and how we may come by this certainty, I 
 think we need go no further than ourselves, and that un- 
 doubted knowledge we have of our own existence. 
 
 2. Man knows that lie himsdf is. — I think it is beyond 
 question, that man has a clear idea of his own being ; he 
 knows certainly he exists, and that he is something. He 
 that can doubt whether he be anything or no, I speak not 
 to; no more than I would argue with pm-e nothing, or endea- 
 vour to convince nonentity that it were something. If any 
 one pretends to be so sceptical as to deny his own existence, 
 (for really to doubt of it is manifestly impossible,) let him 
 for me enjoy his beloved happiness of being nothing, until 
 hunger or some other pain con^'ince him of the contrary. 
 This, then, I think I may take for a truth, which every one's 
 certain knowledge assures him of, beyond the liberty of 
 doubting, viz., that he is something that actually exists. 
 
 3. He knows also that Nothing cannot produce a Being, 
 therefore Something eternal. — In the next place, man knows 
 by an intuitive certainty, that bare nothing can no more 
 produce any real being, than it can be equal to two right 
 angles. If a man knows not that nonentity, or the absence 
 of all being, cannot be equal to two right angles, it is impos- 
 sible he should know any demonstration in Euclid. If, 
 therefore, we know there is some real being, and that nonen- 
 tity cannot produce any real being, it is an evident demon- 
 stration, that from eternity there has been something ; since 
 what was not fi-om eternity had a beginning; and what had 
 a beginning must be produced by something else. 
 
 4. That eternal Being must be onost powerful. — Next, it is 
 evident, that what had its being and beginning from another, 
 must also have all that which is in and belongs to its being 
 from another too. All the powers it has must be owing to 
 and received from the same source. This eternal source, then,
 
 CHAP. X.J KNOVVLEUUE OF THE EXISTENCE OK A GOD. 231 
 
 of all being, must also he, the source and original of all power ; 
 and so this eternal being must be also the most ])Owerlul. 
 
 5. And most knoioing. — Again, a man finds in liiniself })er- 
 ception and knowledge. We have then got one step fur- 
 ther; and we are certain now that there is not only some 
 being, but some knowing, intelligent being in the world. 
 There was a time, then, when there was no knowing being, 
 and when knowledge began to be ; or else there has been 
 also a knowing being from eternity. If it be said, there was 
 a time when no being had any knowledge, when that eternal 
 being was void of all understanding ; I reply, that, then it 
 was impossible there should ever have been any knowledge; 
 it being as impossible that things wholly void of knowledge, 
 and operating blindly, and without any perception, should 
 ju'oduce a knowing being, as it is impossible that a triangle 
 should make itself three angles bigger than two right ones. 
 For it is as repugnant to the idea of senseless matter, that 
 it should put into itself sense, perception, and knowledge, 
 as it is repugnant to the idea of a triangle, that it shoiild put 
 into itself greater angles than two right ones. 
 
 6. And tJierefore God. — Thus, from the consideration of 
 ourselves, and what we infallibly find in oiir own constitu- 
 tions, our reason leads us to the knowledge of this certain 
 and evident truth, that there is an eternal, most powerful, 
 and most knowing being, which, whether any one will please 
 to call God, it matters not ; the thing is evident, and from 
 this idea duly considered, will easily be deduced all those 
 other attributes, which we ought to ascribe to this eternal 
 being. If, nevertheless, any one should be found so sense- 
 lessly arrogant, as to suppose man alone knowing and wise, 
 but yet the product of mere ignorance and chance; and that 
 all the rest of the universe acted only by that blind haijhazard; 
 I shall leave with him that very rational and emphatical 
 rebuke of Tully, (1. ii. De Leg.) to be considered at his leisure : 
 " What can be more sillily arrogant and misbecoming, than 
 for a man to think that he has a mind and understanding in 
 him, but yet in all the universe beside there is no such thing ? 
 Or that those things, which with the utmost stretch of his 
 reason he can scarce comprehend, should be moved and 
 managed without any reason at alH" "Quid est enim 
 verius, quam nemiuem esse oportere tarn stulte arrogantem,
 
 232 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 ut m se mentem et rationem putet inesse, in ccelo mundoque 
 lion pntet 1 Aut ea qufe vix summa ingenii ratione compre- 
 heudat, nulla ratione moveri putet V 
 
 From what has been said, it is plain to me we have a more 
 certain knowledge of the existence of a God, than of any- 
 thing our senses have not immediately discovered to us. 
 Nay, I presume I may say, that we more certainly know that 
 there is a God, than that there is anythiilg else without us. 
 When I say we know, I mean there is such a knowledge 
 within our reach which we cannot miss, if we will but apply 
 ovir minds to that, as we do to several other inquiries.* 
 
 7. Our idea of a most perfect Being, not the sole Proof of a 
 God. — How far the idea of a most perfect being, which a 
 man may frame in his mind, does or does not prove the 
 existence of a God, I will not here examine. For in the 
 different make of men's tempers and application of their 
 thoughts, some arguments prevail more on one, and some on 
 another, for the confirmation of the same truth. But yet, I 
 think, this 1 may say, that it is an ill way of establishing this 
 
 * Nor if? there need of very great application, since there appears in 
 reaKty to be no nation upon the surface of the earth which has not ren- 
 dered itself master of this knowledge. Travellers, I know, have some- 
 times formed a different opinion ; but their rash, hasty, and almost ran- 
 dom conclusions, are, in matters of this kind, worthy of little credit. 
 Thus we find Le Vaillant, a writer of great talent and curious observa- 
 tion, contradicting himself flatly upon this point ; first affirming that the 
 Kabobiquois are the only African nation known to him, who believed in 
 the existence of a God ; whereas he, in another place, relates that the 
 • Caffres not only believed in God, but in the immortality of the soul. 
 "De toutes les nations Africaines, calle-ci (des Kabobiquois) est laseiile 
 chez laquelle j'aie trouv^ quelque ide^ confuse d'un Dieu. J'ignore si 
 c'est a ses seules reflexions ou k ces communications avec d'autres 
 penples, quelle doit cette connaissance sublime, qui seule la rapproche- 
 rait des nations policies, mais elle croit (autant que j'ai pu m'en assurer 
 par mes gens) qu'au dessous des astres il existe un etre puissant lequel a 
 fait et gouverne toutes choses. Au reste, je dois k la v^rite d'ajouter ici 
 que ce n'est Ik pour elle qu'une id^e vague, sterile et sans suite ; qu'elle 
 ne soupgonne ne I'existence de I'ame ni par consequent les peines et les 
 recompenses d'une autre vie." (1. viii. p. 95 et seq.) Wben writing 
 this, however, he had clearly forgotten what he elsewhere says of the 
 Caffres : — " Ces peuples ont une trfes- haute id^e de I'auteur des etres et 
 de sa puissance ; ils croient k une autre vie, k la punition des mechans, 
 k la recompense des bons, mais ils n'ont point d'id^e de la creation ; ils 
 pensentque le monde a toujours exists, qu'il sera toujours ce qu'il est." 
 (L. iv. p. 40.)
 
 CHAP.X.] KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOD. 23ii 
 
 truth, and silencing atheists, to lay the whole stress of so im- 
 portant a point as this upon that sole foundation ; and take 
 some men's ha\-ing that idea of God in their minds, (for it is 
 evident some men have none, and some worse thaii none, and 
 the most veiy different,) for the only proof of a Deity : and 
 out of an over fondness of that darling invention, cashier, or 
 at least endeavour to invalidate all other arguments, and 
 forbid us to hearken to those proofs, as being weak or falla- 
 cious, which our own existence and the sensible parts of the 
 universe offer so clearly and cogently to our thoughts, that I 
 deem it impossible for a considering man to withstand them. 
 For I judge it as certain and clear a truth as can anywhere be 
 delivered, that the invisible things of God are clearly seen 
 from the creation of the woi'ld, being understood by the 
 things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead. 
 Though our own being furnishes us, as I have shown, with 
 an e'S'ident and incontestible proof of a Deity ; and I believe 
 nobody can avoid the cogency of it, who will but as carefully 
 attend to it, as to any other demonstration of so many parts : 
 yet this being so fundamental a truth, and of that conse- 
 quence, that all religion and genuine morality depend thereon, 
 I doubt not but I shall be forgiven by my reader if I go 
 over some parts of this argument again, and enlarge a little 
 more upon them. 
 
 8. Samething froni Eternity. — There is no truth more evi- 
 dent than that something must be from eternity. I never 
 yet heard of any one so unreasonable, or that could suppose so 
 manifest a contradiction, as a time wherein there was per- 
 fectly nothing ; this being of all absurdities the greatest, to 
 imagine that pure nothing, the perfect negation and absence 
 of all beings, should ever produce any real existence.* 
 
 * The nature of the arguments by which Hobbes conceived the exist- 
 ence of a Deity to be proved, though briefly delivered, and perhaps 
 somewhat imperfectly stated, are yet upon the whole similar to those 
 now put forward by Locke. " Forasmuch," he says, "as God Almighty 
 is incomprehensible, it followeth, that we can have no conception or 
 image of the Deity : and, consequently, all his attributes signify our ina- 
 bility and defect of power to conceive anything concerning his nature, 
 and not any conception of the same, excepting only this, that there is a 
 God. For the effects we acknowledge naturally, do exclude a power of 
 their producing, before they were produced ; and that power presupposeth 
 something existent that hath such a power : and the thing so existing 
 with power to produce, if it were not eten)al, must needs have been pro-
 
 234 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 It being, then, ivjiavoidable for all rational creatures to 
 conclude, that something has existed from eternity ; let us 
 next see what kind of thing that must be. 
 
 duced by somewhat before it, and that again by something else before 
 that, till we come to an eternal (that is to say the first) Power of all 
 . powers, and first Cause of all causes : and this it is which all men con- 
 ceive by the name of God, implying eternity, incomprehensibility, and 
 omnipotency. And thus all that will consider may know that God is, 
 though not ivhat he is : even a man bom blind, though it be not pos- 
 sible for him to have any imagination what kind of thing fire is, yet he 
 cannot but know that something there is that men call fire, because it 
 wanneth him." (Hum. Nat. c. xi. §2.) The ancient Egyptians sought 
 to express their opinion of the unsearchable nature of God by an extra- 
 ordinary hieroglyphic : — "A lion wiping out with his tail the impressions 
 his feet had made on the sand, was the emblem of the Demiourgos, or 
 supreme architect, covering over the marks of his divinity by the works 
 of nature, and hiding his immediate power by the visible agony of inferior 
 beings." (Galtruchio.) It has nevertheless been doubted whether the 
 Egyptians believed in one supreme God ; and many distinguished scholars 
 are found ranged on both sides of the question. The writers of greatest 
 authority, however, are of opinion that originally the Egyptians, like 
 the Hindoos, believed in the existence of one supreme divinity, from 
 which pure faith they lapsed by degrees into Polytheism and idolatry. 
 Their Plftha is sometimes supposed to be the Hephaistos of the Greeks ; 
 that is, the subtile fire which pervades the universe. (Jablonski. Panth. 
 Egypt, t. i. pp. 30 — 49.) Like the Chinese, (La Croye. Thes Epist. 1. iii. 
 p. 194,) the ancient Egyptians have by certain writers been suspected of 
 Atheism, a charge opposed by the pious and learned Cudworth, who 
 conceives, that, under the name of Nox, they worshipped the invisible 
 God. Jablonski, though he cannot see any foundation for this opinion, 
 contends that the Egyptians— that is, the philosophical part of the nation, 
 were not polytheists. (L. I. c. i. p. 2.) With a pardonable partiality he 
 regards Egypt as the inventress of theology, and all the other sciences, 
 (ib. et. Proleg. p. 4.) They had, according to his views, elevated their 
 minds to a clear idea of God ; but proceeding to the polytneistic period, 
 he places Athor, or Aphi'odite, at the head of all their div'vnities, as the 
 Brahmins do Bhavani. (2.) The grammarian Orion, cited by the author 
 of the Etymologicum Magnum, observes, that Athys was, among the 
 Egyptians, the name of a month, and that they denominated Venus, 
 Athor. (In voce, 'AGvp) Hezychius corroborates the testimony of 
 Orion, adding, that the name Athor was likewLse applied to the cow ; bub 
 this is not to be understood of the animal, but of the symbolical cow, by 
 which Athor was represented. (Jab. i. 4.) It may be noticed en passant, 
 that the word is always written Athor in the books of the Copts. (Hezych. 
 in V. Orion in Etym. Magn. ut sup.) But Jablonski maintains that this 
 goddess and the Grecian Aphrodite were greatly dissimilar, and that in 
 many respects she rather resembles Hera, or Venus Urania. (G.) Hero- 
 dotus, however, observes that Hera was unknown to the Egyptians. (L. 
 xi. c. 50.) Some of the ancients confounded the goddess with the moon.
 
 CUAP. X.] KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOU. 235 
 
 9. Two Sorts of J>eln,gs, cogitative and incogitative. — There 
 are but two sorts of beings in the world that man knows or 
 conceives. 
 
 First, such as are purely material, without sense, percep- 
 
 (Seld. de Diss. Syi-is. Syiit. II. c. ii. iv. et Voss. de Idolol. 1. xi. c. 21. 22.) 
 Others, again, suppose her to have been the planet Venus, so highly 
 venerated by the Arabs. (Jabl. i. 7.) But in reality the Orientals 
 meant nothing by the name, but the plastic power of nature, (Pint. vit. 
 Crassi. Jab. 8.) — the mother of gods and men. (Apul. Met. 1. Lx. ; Ovid. 
 Fast. IV. 99. et seq.) Jablonski himself thinks the word Athor is synony- 
 mous with Nox, Night, (1. 10,) which was also one of the deities of the 
 PhoDnicians. (Euseb. Prsep. Evan. 1. I. c. 10.) There were in Greece, 
 also, temples to Night, by Hesiod called the mother of the Gods. (Theog. 
 V. 123, conf. Paus. on Abb. et Phojn.) Night, in fact, as suspected by 
 Cudworth, was among the Egyptians accounted the first principle of all 
 things. (Jab. 18, 19, conf. to 27.) According to Herodotus, (1. xi. c. 
 46 and 145,) the eight great gods of the Egyptians were the four ele- 
 ments, the sun, the moon, day, and night. They, however, degenerated 
 by degrees into mere Pantheism. (Diog. Laert. Pr. vii. 10 :) and Jab- 
 lonski inquires whether one would not suppose that Spinoza had boiTowed 
 his system from the Egyptians ?" (1. 36.) Tlie learned mythologist is of 
 opinion, however, that the more ancient philosophers of Egyj)t believed 
 in one God, (p. 38,) who was called Phtha, (44,) and included both the 
 sexes. This is identical, or perfectly agrees with the doctrine of the 
 Brahmins, (p. 47,) yet the worship of this god, like that of Brahma in 
 India, gradually died away, and he honoured but one temple, which was 
 in Memphis. (52.) The solitary fane in honour of the supreme God exists 
 likewise in Hindustan. (Todd. Annal. of Bojart, I. p. 774.) The primi- 
 tive conception which the Hindus had framed of the divinity, we may 
 collect from a sublime hymn in the Lajus-Veda, " in which a yearnuig 
 to inculcate the unity of God is clearly distinguishable, in the midst of 
 ideas of a pantheistical tendency. " (Hindoos. I. p. 146.) " Fire is that 
 original cause; the sun is that; so is air; so is the moon; such, too, is 
 that pure Brahmin, and those waters, and that lord of creatures. Mo- 
 ments, and other measures of tinie, proceeded from the effulgent person, 
 whom none can apprehend as an object of perception, above, aroimd, or 
 in the midst. Of him whose glory is so great there is no image ; he it is 
 who is celebrated in various holy strains. Even he is the God, vi'ho 
 pervades all regions ; he is the first-born ; it is he who is in the womb ; 
 he who is born ; and he who will be produced : he severally and univer- 
 sally remains with all persons. He, prior to whom nothing was born, 
 and who became all things ; hmiself the lord of creatures witli a body 
 composed of sixteen members, being delighted by creation, produced the 
 three luminaries, the sun, the moon, and fire. To what God should we 
 offer oblations, h»ut to him who made the fluid sky and solid earth ; 
 who fixed the solar orb and celestial abode : and who formed drojis 
 of rain in the atmosphere? To what God should we offer obla- 
 tion, but to him whom heaven and eartli mentally contemplate, while 
 they are strengthened and ombellisliod by offerings, and illuminated 
 by the sun rising above them ? The wise man views that mysterious
 
 236 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 tion, or thought, as the clippings of our beards, and parings 
 of our nails. 
 
 Secondly, sensible, thinking, perceiving beings, such as we 
 find ourselves to be, which, if yon please, we will hereafter 
 call cogitative and incogitative beings ; which to our present 
 purpose, if for nothing else, are perhaps better terms than 
 material and immaterial. 
 
 10. Incogitative Beings cannot produce a cogitative. — If, 
 then, there must be something eternal, let us see what sort 
 of being it must be. And to that it is very obvious to 
 reason, that it must necessarily be a cogitative being. For 
 it is as imjiossible to conceive that ever bare incogitative 
 matter shoiild produce a thinking intelligent being, as that 
 nothing should of itself produce matter. Let us suppose any 
 parcel of matter eternal — great or small — we shall find it, in 
 itself, able to produce nothing. For examjile: let us sup- 
 pose the matter of the next pebble we meet with eternal, 
 closely united, and the parts firmly at rest together; if there 
 were no other being in the world, must it not eternally re- 
 main so — a dead inactive lump ? Is it possible to conceive it 
 can add motion to itself — being purely matter — or produce 
 anything? Matter, then, by its own strength, cannot pro- 
 duce in itself so much as motion : the motion it has must 
 also be from eternity, or else be produced, and added to 
 matter by some other being more powerful than matter ; 
 matter, as is evident, having not power to produce motion 
 in itself. But let us svippose motion eternal too : yet matter 
 — incogitative matter and motion — whatever changes it might 
 produce of figure and bulk, could never jjroduce thought: 
 knowledge will still be as far beyond the power of motion 
 and matter to produce, as matter is beyond the power of 
 nothing or nonentity to produce. And I appeal to every 
 one's own thoughts, whether he cannot as easily conceive 
 
 Being in whom the universe perpetually exists, resting on that sole sup- 
 port. In hun this world is absorbed ; from him it comes ; in creatures 
 he is twined and wove with various foi-ms of existence. Let the wise 
 man who is conversant with the import of revelation, promptly celebrate 
 that immortal Being, the mysteriously existing and various abode : he 
 who knows its three states, (its creation, continuance, and destniction, ) 
 which are involved in mysterj', is father of the father. Tliat Brahma 
 in whom the gods attain immortality, while they abide in the third or 
 celestial region, is our venerable parent, and the Providence which 
 governs all worlds." (Asiatic Researches. VIII. pp. 431 — 433.) — Ed.
 
 CHAP. X.] KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOD. 237 
 
 matter produced by nothing, as thought to be produced by 
 pure matter, when, before, tliere was no such thing as 
 thought or an intelligent being existing? Divide matter 
 into as many parts as you will, (which we are apt to imagine 
 a sort of spiritualizing, or making a thinking thing of it,) 
 vary the figure and motion of it as much as you please — a 
 globe, cube, cone, prism, cylinder, &c., whose diameters are 
 but 100,000th part of agry,* will operate no otherwise upon 
 other bodies of proportionable bulk, than those of an inch 
 or foot diameter ; and you may as rationally expect to pro- 
 duce sense, thought, and knowledge, b}^ putting together, in 
 a cei'tain figure and motion, gross particles of matter, as by 
 those that are the very minutest that do anywhere exist. 
 They knock, impel, and resist one another, just as the gi-eater 
 do, and that is all they can do. So that, if we will suppose 
 nothing first or eternal, matter can never begin to be: if we 
 suppose bare matter without motion, eternal; motion can 
 never begin to be : if we suppose only matter and motion 
 first, or eternal, thought can never begin to be. For it is 
 impossible to conceive that matter, either with or without 
 motion, could have originally in and from itself sense, per- 
 ception, and knowledge ; as is evident from hence, that then 
 sense, perception, and knowledge, must be a proj^erty eter- 
 nally inseparable from matter and every particle of it. Not 
 to add, that, though our general or specific conception of 
 matter makes us speak of it as one thing, yet really all 
 matter is not one individual thing, neither is there any such 
 thing existing as one material being, or one single body that 
 we know or can conceive. And therefore, if matter were the 
 eternal first cogitative being, there would not be one eternal, 
 infinite, cogitative being, but an infinite number of eternal, 
 finite, cogitative beings, independent one of another, of li- 
 mited force, and distinct thoughts, which could never pro- 
 duce that order, hannony, and beauty which are to be found 
 
 * A gry is one- tenth of a line, a line one- tenth of an inch, an inch 
 one-tenth of a philosophical foot, a philosophical foot one-third of a 
 pendulum, whose diadroms, in the latitude of forty-five degrees, are 
 each equal to one second of time, or one-sixtieth of a minute. I have 
 affectedly made use of this measure here, and the parts of it, under a 
 decimal division, with names to them ; because I think it would be of 
 general convenience that this should be the common measure in the 
 commonwealth of letters.
 
 238 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 in nature. Since, tlierefore, whatsoever is the first eternal 
 being must necessarily be cogitative; and whatsoever is first 
 of all things must necessai-ily contain in it, and actually 
 have, at least, all the perfections that can ever after exist; 
 nor can it ever give to another any perfection that it hath 
 not either actually in itself, or, at least, in a higher degree; 
 it necessarily follows, that the first eternal being cannot be 
 matter. 
 
 11. Therefore, there has been an eternal Wisdom. — If, there- 
 fore, it be evident that something necessarily must exist from 
 eternity, it is also as evident that that something must neces- 
 sarily be a cogitative being : for it is as impossible that in- 
 cogitative matter should produce a cogitative being, as that 
 nothing, or the negation of all being should produce a posi- 
 tive being or matter. 
 
 1 2. Though this discovery of the necessary existence of an 
 eternal mind does sufficiently lead us into the knowledge of 
 God ; since it will hence follow, that all other knowing beings 
 that have a beginning must depend on him, and have no 
 other ways of knowledge or extent of power than what he 
 gives them; and therefore, if he made those, he made also 
 the less excellent pieces of this imiverse, all inanimate beings, 
 whereby his omniscience, power, and providence will be esta- 
 blished, and all his other attributes necessarily follow : yet, 
 to clear up this a little further, we will see what doubts can 
 be raised against it. 
 
 13. Wliether material or no. — First, Perhaps it will be 
 ' said, that, though it be as clear as demonstration can make 
 
 it, that there must be an eternal being, and that being must 
 also be knowing : yet it does not follow, but that thinking 
 being may also be material. Let it be so : it equally still 
 follows that there is a God. For if there be an eternal, 
 omniscient, omnipotent being, it is certain that there is a 
 God, whether you imagine that being to be material or no. 
 But herein, I suppose, lies the danger and deceit of that 
 supposition : there being no way to avoid the demonstration, 
 that there is an eternal knowing being, men devoted to 
 matter would willingly have it granted, that this knowing 
 being is material ; and then, letting slide out of their minds, 
 or the discourse, the demonstration whereby an eternal know- 
 ing being was jiroved necessarily to exist, would argue all to be
 
 CHAP. X.] KNOWLEDCJE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A (iOD. 23'J 
 
 matter, and so deny a God — that is, an eternal cogitative 
 being ; whereby they are so far from establishing, that they 
 destroy their own hypothesis. For if there can be, in their 
 opinion, eternal matter, without any eternal cogitative being, 
 they manifestly separate matter and thinking, and suppose 
 no necessary connexion of the one with the other, and so 
 establish the necessity of an eternal s])irit, but not of matter; 
 since it has been proved already, that an eternal cogitative 
 being is imavoidably to be granted. Now, if thinking and 
 matter may be separated, the eternal existence of matter will 
 not follow from the eternal existence of a cogitative being, 
 and they suppose it to no purpose. 
 
 14. Not material, I. Because every Particle of Matter is not 
 cogitative. — But now let us suppose that can satisfy them- 
 selves or others, that this eternal thinking being is material. 
 
 Fii-st, I would ask them, whether they imagine that all 
 matter — every particle of matter — thinks] This, I suppose, 
 they will scarce say; since then there would be as many 
 eternal thinking beings as there are particles of matter, and so 
 an infinity of gods. And yet, if they will not allow matter 
 as matter — that is, every particle of matter to be as well 
 cogitative as extended, they will have as hard a task to make 
 out to their own reasons a cogitative being out of incogi- 
 tative particles, as an extended being out of imextended 
 jiarts, if I may so speak. 
 
 15. II. One Particle alone of Matter cannot he cogitative. — 
 Secondly, If all matter does not think, I next ask. Whether 
 it be only one atom that does so? This has as many 
 absurdities as the other; for then this atom of matter must 
 be alone eternal or not. If this alone be eternal, then this 
 alone, by its powerful thought or will, made all the rest of 
 matter. And so we have the creation of matter by a power- 
 ful thought, which is that the materialists stick at ; for if 
 they suppose one single thinking atom to have produced all 
 the rest of matter, they cannot ascribe that pre-eminency to 
 it upon any other accoimt than that of its thinking, the only 
 supposed difference. But allow it to be by some other way, 
 which is above our conception, it must still be creation, and 
 these men must give up theii- great maxim, " Ex nihilo nil 
 fit." If it be said, that all the rest of matter is equally 
 eternal as that thinking atom, it will be to say anything at
 
 240 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 pleasui-e, though ever so absurd : for to suppose all matter 
 eternal, and yet one small particle in knowledge and power 
 infinitely above all the rest, is without any the lea.st appear- 
 ance of reason to frame an hypothesis. Every particle of 
 matter, as matter, is capable of all the same figures and 
 motions of any other; and I challenge any one, in his 
 thoughts, to add anything else to one above another. 
 
 16. III. A System of incogitative Matter camwt be cogi- 
 tative. — If, then, neither one peculiar atom alone can be this 
 eternal thinking being; nor all matter, as matter, i. e., every 
 particle of matter, can be it; it only remains, that it is some 
 certain system of matter duly put together, that is this 
 thinking eternal being. This is that which, I imagine, is 
 that notion which men are aptest to have of God; who 
 would have him a material being, as most readily suggested 
 to them by the ordinary conceit they have of themselves, 
 and other men, which they take to be material thinking 
 beings. But this imagination, however more natural, is no 
 less absurd than the other : for to suppose the eternal think- 
 in "■ being to be nothing else but a composition of particles 
 of matter, each whereof is cogitative, is to ascribe all the 
 wisdom and knowledge of that eternal being only to the 
 juxta-position of parts; than which nothing can be more 
 absurd. For unthinking particles of matter, however put 
 together, can have nothing thereby added to them, but a 
 new relation of position, which it is impossible should give 
 thought and knowledge to them. 
 
 17. Wliether in Motion or at Rest. — But further: this cor- 
 poreal system either has all its parts at rest, or it is a certain 
 motion of the parts wherein its thinking consists. If it be 
 perfectly at rest, it is but one lump, and so can have no 
 privileges above one atom. 
 
 If it be the motion of its parts, on which its thinking 
 depends, all the thoughts there must be unavoidably acci- 
 dental and limited ; since all the particles that by motion 
 cause thought, being each of them in itself without any 
 thought, cannot regulate its own motions, much less be regu- 
 lated by the thought of the whole : since that thought is 
 not the cause of motion, (for then it must be antecedent to 
 it, and so without it,) but the consequence of it, whereby 
 freedom, power, choice, and all rational and wise thinking
 
 CUAP. X.] KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOD. 241 
 
 or acting, will be quite taken away : so that such a thinking 
 being will be no better nor wiser than pure blind matter; 
 since to resolve all into the accidental unguided motions 
 of blind matter, or into thought depending on unguided 
 motions of blind matter, is the same thing : not to mention 
 the narrowness of such thoughts and knowledge that must 
 depend on the motion of such parts. But there needs no 
 enumeration of any more absurdities and impossibilities in 
 this hypothesis (however full of them it be) than that before 
 mentioned ; since, let this thinking system be all or a part 
 of the matter of the universe, it is impossible that any one 
 particle should either know its own or the motion of any 
 other particle, or the whole know the motion of every par- 
 ticle ; and so regulate its own thoughts or motions, or indeed 
 have any thought resulting from such motion. 
 
 18. Matter not co-eternal with ari eternal Mind. — Others 
 would have matter to be eternal, notwithstanding that they 
 allow an eternal, cogitative, immaterial being. This, though 
 it take not away the being of a God, yet, since it denies one 
 and the first great piece of his workmanship, the creation, 
 let us consider it a little. Matter must be allowed eternal : 
 why? because you cannot conceive how it can be made out 
 of nothing: why do you not also think yourself eternal? 
 You will answer, perhaps, because, about twenty or forty 
 years since, you began to be. But if I ask you, what 
 that you is which began then to be, you can scarce tell me. 
 The matter whereof you are made began not then to be; for 
 if it did, then it is not eternal: but it began to be put to- 
 gether in such a fashion and frame as makes up your body; 
 but yet that frame of particles is not you, it makes not that 
 thinking thing you are; (for I have now to do with one 
 who allows an eternal, immaterial, thinking being, but would 
 have unthinking matter eternal too;) therefore, when did 
 that thinking thing begin to be? li" it did never begin to 
 be, then have you always been a thinking thing from eter- 
 nity; the absurdity whereof I need not confute, till I meet 
 with one who is so void of understanding as to own it. If, 
 therefore, you can allow a thinking thing to be made out of 
 nothing, (as all things that are not eternal must be,) why 
 also can you not allow it possible for a material being to be 
 made out of nothing by an equal power, but that you have 
 
 VOL. IT. R
 
 242 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 the experience of the one in view, and not of the other? 
 though when well considered, creation of a spirit will be 
 found to require no less power than the creation of matter. 
 Nay, possibly, if we would emancipate ourselves from vulgar 
 notions, and raise our thoughts as far as they would reach, 
 to a closer contemplation of things, we might be able to 
 aim at some dim and seeming concejition how matter might 
 at first be made, and begin to exist by the power of that 
 eternal first being: but to give beginning and being to a 
 spirit, would be found a mox-e inconceivable effect of om- 
 nipotent power. But, this being what would perhaps lead 
 us too far from the notions on which the philosophy now 
 in the world is built, it would not be pardonable to deviate 
 so far from them ; or to inquire, so far as grammar itself 
 would authorize, if the common settled opinion o]iposes it : 
 especially in this place, where the received doctrine serves 
 well enough to our present purpose, and leaves this past 
 doubt, that the creation or beginning of any one substance 
 out of nothing being once admitted, the creation of all 
 other but the Creator himself, may, with the same ease, be 
 supposed. 
 
 19. But you will say. Is it not impossible to admit of 
 the making anything out of nothing, since we cannot pos- 
 sibly conceive it? I answer, No: 1. Because it is not rea- 
 sonable to deny the power of an infinite being, because we 
 cannot comprehend its operations. We do not deny other 
 effects upon this ground, because we cannot possibly conceive 
 the manner of their production. We cannot conceive how 
 anything but impulse of body can move body; and yet that 
 is not a reason sufficient to make us deny it possible,* against 
 the constant experience we have of it in ourselves, in all 
 our voluntary motions, which are produced in us only by 
 the free action or thought of our own minds; and are not, 
 nor can be, the effects of the impulse or determination of 
 the motion of blind matter in or upon our own bodies; for 
 then it could not be in our power or choice to alter it. For 
 example : my right hand writes, whilst my left hand is still : 
 what causes rest in one, and motion in the other? Nothing 
 but my will — a thought of my mind; my thought only 
 
 * So in the fol. 1714. But in the modern editions it is usually printed 
 " deny it impossible." (See following page.) — Ed.
 
 CHAP. XI.] KNOWLEDGE OF EXISTENCE OF OTHER THINGS, 243 
 
 changing, the right hand rests, and the left hand moves. 
 This is matter of fact, which cannot be denied : explain 
 this and make it intelligible, and then the next step will 
 be to undei'stand creation. For the giving a new deter- 
 mination to the motion of the animal spii'its (which some 
 make use of to explain voluntary motion) cleai's not the 
 difficulty one jot: to alter the determination of motion, being 
 in this case no easier nor less, than to give motion itself; 
 since the new determination given to the animal spirits 
 must be either immediately by thought, or by some other 
 body put in their way by thought, which was not in their 
 way before, and so must owe its motion to thought : either 
 of which leaves voluntaiy motion as unintelligible as it was 
 before. In the meantime, it is an overvaluing ourselves to 
 reduce all to the narrow measure of our capacities; and to 
 conclude all things impossible to be done, whose manner of 
 doing exceeds our comprehension. This is to make our 
 comprehension infinite, or God finite, when what we can do 
 is limited to what we can conceive of it. If you do not 
 undex'stand the operations of your own finite mind — that 
 thinking thing within you, do not deem it strange that you 
 cannot comprehend the operations of that eternal infinite 
 mind, who made and governs all things, and whom the 
 heaven of heavens cannot contain.* 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF OTHER THINGS. 
 
 1. It is to he had only hy Sensation. — The knowledge of 
 our own being we have by intuition. The existence of a 
 God, reason clearly makes known to us, as has been shown. 
 
 * In the philosophical system of the Hindoos, God is regarded as pure 
 spirit, divested of all attributes. Matter, which comprehends every- 
 thing that is not God, is inert. Here are two principles clearly taught. 
 This Being is individuated in every form of life, vegetable as well as 
 animal ; but may also be contemplated as dwelling in his own eternal 
 solitude. From the union of spirit with matter arise vice and misery : 
 to dissolve this union, and return the divine particle to its pure source, 
 which is to be effected only by complete abstraction, and perpetual me- 
 ditation on the Divine Nature, is the great business of life. The Hin- 
 doo philosophers, therefore endeavour, by performing the most fearful 
 austerities, and, by annihilating as far as possible all wants, aflfectionH 
 
 R 2
 
 244 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 The knowledge of the existence of any other thing we can 
 have only by sensation : for there being no necessary con- 
 nexion of real existence with any idea a man hath in his 
 memory, nor of any other existence but that of God, with 
 the existence of any particular man; no particular man can 
 know the existence of any other being, but only when, by 
 actual operating upon him, it makes itself perceived by him. 
 For the having the idea of anything in our mind, no more 
 proves the existence of that thing, than the picture of a 
 man evidences his being in the woi'ld, or the visions of a 
 ch-eam make thereby a true history. 
 
 2. Instance : Whiteness of this Paper. — It is therefore the 
 actual receiving of ideas from without that gives us notice of 
 the existence of other things, and makes us know that some- 
 thing doth exist at that time without us, wlaich causes that 
 idea in us, though perhaps we neither know nor consider 
 how it does it: for it takes not from the certainty of our 
 senses, and the ideas we receive by them, that we know not 
 the manner wherein they are produced : v. g., whilst I write 
 this, I have, by the paper affecting my eyes, that idea pro- 
 duced in my mind, which, whatever object caiises, I call 
 white; by which I know that that quality or accident (i. e., 
 whose appearance before my eyes always causes that idea) 
 doth really exist, and hath a being without me. And of 
 this the greatest assurance T can possibly have, and to which 
 my faculties can attain, is the testimony of my eyes, which 
 are the proper and sole judges of this tiling, whose testimony 
 I have reason to rely on as so certain, that I can no more 
 doubt, whilst I write this, that I see white and black, and 
 that something really exists that causes that sensation in me, 
 than that I write or move my hand : which is a certainty as 
 great as human nature is capable of, concerning the existence 
 of anything, but a man's self alone, and of God. 
 
 3. This, though not so certain as Demonstration, yet may he 
 called Knowledge, and proves the Existence of Things without 
 us. — The notice we have by our senses of the existing of 
 
 and desires, to elevate themselves to that spiritual life, or absorption, 
 in the Deity, in which they expect to be plunged after death, and lost 
 in ineSable beatitude, as the air contained in a vessel mingles, when this 
 vessel is broken, with the great body of atmospheric air, or as a drop ia 
 lost in the ocean. (Ward. pref. p. 20— 21.;— Ed.
 
 CHAP. XI.] KNOWLEDGE OF EXISTENCE OF OTHER THINGS. 2io 
 
 things without us, though it be not altogether so certain as 
 our intuitive knowledge, or the deductions of our reason, 
 employed about the clear abstract ideas of our own minds ; yet 
 it is an assurance that deserves the name of knowledge. If we 
 persuade ourselves that our faculties act and inform us right 
 concerning the existence of tliose objects that affect them, it 
 cannot pass for an ill-grounded confidence; for I think 
 nobody can, in earnest, be so sceptical as to be uncertain of 
 the existence of those things which he sees and feels. At 
 least, he that can doubt so tar, (whatever he may have with 
 his own thoughts,) will never have any controversy with me ; 
 since he can never be sure I say anything contrary to his 
 own opinion. As to myself, I think God has given me assu- 
 rance enough of the existence of things without me; since, 
 by their different apjilication, I can produce in myself both 
 pleasure and pain, which is one great concernment of my 
 present state. This is certain, the confidence that our facul- 
 ties do not herein deceive us, is the gi'eatest assurance we are 
 capable of concerning the existence of material beings. Foi 
 we cannot act anything but by our faculties ; nor talk of know- 
 ledge itself, but by the helps of those faculties which are 
 fitted to apprehend even what knowledge is. But besides 
 tlie assurance we have from our senses themselves, that they 
 do not err in the information they give us of the existence 
 of things without us, when they are afiected by them, we 
 are fui-ther confirmed in this assurance by other concurrent 
 reasons. 
 
 4. I. Because we cannot have iliem hut hy tJie Inlet of the 
 Senses. — First, It is plain those perceptions are produced in 
 us by exterior causes affecting our senses; because those that 
 want the organs of any sense, never can have the ideas be- 
 longing to that sense produced in their minds. This is too 
 evident to be doubted: and therefore we cannot but be 
 assured that they come in by the organs of that sense, and 
 no other way. The organs themselves, it is plain, do not 
 produce them; for then the eyes of a man in the dark would 
 produce colours, and his nose smell roses in the winter: but 
 we see nobody gets the relish of a pineapple, till he goes to 
 the Indies, where it is, and tastes it.* i 
 
 * It would seem from this, that the pineapple had not then been intro- 
 duced into Europe. — Ed.
 
 21G OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 5. II. Because cm Idea from actual Sensation, and another 
 from Memory, are very distinct Perceptions. — Secondly, Be- 
 cause sometimes I find, that I cannot avoid the having those 
 ideas produced in my mind. For though, when my eyes are 
 shut, or windows fast, I can at pleasui-e recal to my mind 
 the ideas of light, or the sun, which former sensations had 
 lodged in my memory; so I can at pleasure lay by that 
 idea, and take into my view that of the smell of a rose, or 
 taste of sugar. But, if I turn my eyes at noon towards the 
 sun, I cannot avoid the ideas which the light or sun then 
 produces in me. So that there is a manifest difference be- 
 tween the ideas laid up in my memory, (over which, if they 
 were there only, I should have constantly the same power to 
 dispose of them, and lay them by at pleasure,) and those 
 which force themselves upon me, and I cannot avoid having. 
 And therefore it must needs be some exterior cause, and the 
 brisk acting of some objects without me, whose efficacy I 
 cannot resist, that produces those ideas in my mind, whether 
 I will or no. Besides, there is nobody who doth not per- 
 ceive the difierence in himself between contemplating the 
 sun, as he hath the idea of it in his memory, and actually 
 looking upon it : of which two, his perception is so distinct, 
 that few of his ideas are more distinguishable one from an- 
 other. And therefore he hath certain knowledge, that they 
 are not both memory, or the actions of his mind, and fancies 
 only withia him ; but that actual seeing hath a cause 
 without. 
 
 6. III. Pleasure or Pain which accompanies actual Sensa- 
 tion, accomjKmies not the returniiig of those Ideas without tlie 
 extet'nal Objects. — Thirdly, Add to this, that many of those 
 ideas are produced in us with pain, which afterwards we 
 remember without the least offence. Thus, the pain of heat 
 or cold, when the idea of it is revived in our minds, gives us 
 no disturbance; which, when felt, was very troublesome, and 
 is again, when actually repeated ; which is occasioned by the 
 disorder the external object causes in our bodies when applied 
 to it. And we remember the pains of hunger, thirst, or the 
 headache, without any pain at all; which would either never 
 disturb us, or else constantly do it, as often as we thought 
 of it, were there nothing more but ideas floating in our 
 min ds, and appearances entertaining our fancies, without the
 
 CHAP. XI.] KNOWLEDGE OF EXISTENCE OF OTHEK THINGS. 247 
 
 real existence of things affecting us from abroad. The same 
 may be said of pleasure, accom])anying several actual sensa- 
 tions : and though mathematical demonstrations dcjiend not 
 upc3 sense, yet the examining them by diagrams gives great 
 credit to the evidence of our sight, and seems to give it a 
 certainty approaching to that of demonstration itself. For 
 it would be very strange, that a man should allow it for an 
 undeniable truth, that two angles of a figure, which he mea- 
 sures by lines and angles of a diagram, should be bigger 
 one than the other, and yet doubt of the existence of those 
 lines and angles, which by looking on he makes use of to 
 measure that by. 
 
 7. IV. Our Senses assist otie anotlier's Testimony of the 
 Existence of outward Things, — Fourthly, Our senses in many 
 cases bear witness to the truth of each other's report, con- 
 cerning the existence of sensible things without us. He 
 that sees a fii-e, may, if he doubt whether it be anything 
 more than a bare fancy, feel it too ; and be convinced, by 
 putting his hand in it ; which certainly could never be put 
 into such exquisite pain by a bare idea or phantom, unless 
 that the pain be a fancy too, which yet he cannot, when the 
 burn is well, by raising the idea of it, bring upon himself 
 again. 
 
 Thus I see, whilst I write this, I can change the appear- 
 ance of the paper, and by designing the letters tell before- 
 hand what new idea it shall exhibit the very next moment, 
 by barely drawing my pen over it : which will neither appear 
 (let me fancy as much as I will) if my hands stand still ; or 
 though I move my pen, if my eyes be shut : nor when those 
 characters are once made on the paper, can I choose after- 
 wards but see them as they are ; that is, have the ideas of 
 such letteis as I have made. Whence it is manifest, that 
 they are not barely the sport and play of my o\vn imagina- 
 tion, when I find that the characters that were made at the 
 pleasure of my own thoughts, do not obey them ; nor yet 
 cease to be, whenever I shall fancy it; but continue to affect 
 the senses constantly and regularly, according to the figures 
 I made them. To which if we will add, that the sight of 
 those shall, from another man, draw such sounds as I before- 
 hand design they shall stand for, there will be little reason 
 left to doubt that those words I write do really exist without
 
 248 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 me, when they cause a long series of regular sounds to 
 affect my ears, which could not be the effect of my imagina- 
 tion, nor could my memory retain them in that order. 
 
 8. This Certainty is as great as our Condition needs. — But 
 yet, if after all this, any one will be so sceptical as to distrust 
 his senses, and to affirm that all we see and hear, feel and taste, 
 think and do, during our whole being, is but the series and 
 deluding appearances of a long dream, whereof there is no 
 reality ; and therefore will question the existence of all 
 things, or our knowledge of anything ; I must desire him to 
 consider, that, if all be a dream, then he doth but dream that 
 he makes the question, and so it is not much matter that a 
 waking man should answer him. But yet, if he pleases, he 
 may dream that I make him this answer, that the certainty 
 of tilings existing in rerum natura, when we have the tes- 
 timony of our senses for it, is not only as great as our frame can 
 attain to, but as our condition needs. For our faculties being 
 suited not to the full extent of being, nor to a perfect, clear, 
 comprehensive knowledge of tilings free from all doubt and 
 scruple ; but to the preservation of us, in whom they are, and 
 accommodated to the use of life, they serve to our purpose 
 well enough, if they will but give us certain notice of those 
 things, which are convenient or inconvenient to us. For 
 he that sees a candle burning, and hath experimented the 
 force of its flame by putting his finger in it, will little doubt 
 that this is something existing without him, which does him 
 harm, and puts him to great pain ; which is assurance enough 
 when no man requires greater certainty to govern his actions 
 by, than what is as certain as his actions themselves. And 
 if our dreamer pleases to try whether the glowing heat of a 
 glass furnace be barely a wandering imagination in a di'owsy 
 man's fancy, by putting his hand into it, he may perhaps be 
 wakened into a certainty gi-eater than he could wish, that 
 it is something more than bare imagination; so that this evi- 
 dence is as great as we can desire, being as certain to us as 
 our pleasure or pain, i. e., happiness or misery; beyond which 
 we have no concernment, either of knowing or being. Such 
 an assurance of the existence of things without us is sufficient 
 to direct us in the attaining the good and avoiding the evil 
 which is caused by them, which is the import and concern- 
 ment we have of being made acquainted with them.
 
 CHAP. XI.] KNOWLEDGE OF EXISTENCE OP OTHER THINGS. 249 
 
 2. But reaches no furtlier tlmn actual Sensation. — In fine, 
 then, when our senses do actually convey into our under- 
 standings any idea, we cannot but be satisfied that there 
 doth something at that time really exist without us, which 
 doth aflfect our senses, and by them give notice of itself to 
 our apprehensive faculties, and actually produce that idea 
 which we then perceive : and we cannot so far distrust their 
 testimony, as to doubt that such collections of simple ideas 
 as we have observed by our senses to be united together, do 
 really exist together. But this knowledge extends as far as 
 the ]) resent testimony of ovu* senses, employed about jjarticular 
 objects that do then affect them, and no further. For if I 
 saw such a collection of simple ideas as is wont to be called 
 man, existing together one minute since, and am now alone, 
 I cannot be certain that the same man exists now, since there 
 is no necessary connexion of his existence a minute since 
 with his existence now: by a thousand ways he may cease to 
 be, since I had the testimony of my senses for his existence. 
 And if I cannot be certain that the man I saw last to-day is 
 now in being, I can less be certain that he is so who hath 
 been longer removed from my senses, and I have not seen 
 since yesterday, or since the last year ; and much less can I 
 be certain of the existence of men that 1 never saw. And, 
 therefore, though it be highly probable that millions of men 
 do now exist, yet, whilst I am alone writing this, I have not 
 that certainty of it which we strictly call knowledge ; though 
 the great likelihood of it puts me past doubt, and it be rea- 
 sonable for me to do several things iipon the confidence that 
 there ai-e men (and men also of my acquaintance, with whom 
 I have to do) now in the world : but this is but probability, 
 not knowledge. 
 
 10. Folly to expect Deinonstralion in everything. — Whereby 
 yet we may observe how foolish and vain a thing it is for a 
 man of a narrow knowledge, who having reason given him to 
 judge of the different evidence and probability of things, and 
 to be swayed accordingly ; how vain, I say, it is to expect de- 
 monstration and certainty in things not capable of it ; and 
 refuse assent to very rational propositions, and act contraiy to 
 very plain and clear truths, because they cannot be made out 
 so e\'ideut, as to surmount every the least (I will not say 
 reason, but) pretence of doubting. He that, in the ordinary 
 affairs of life, would admit of nothing but direct plain dc-
 
 250 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, [bOOK IV. 
 
 monstration, -wovild be sure of notliing in this world, but of 
 perishing quickly. The wholesomeness of his meat or drink 
 would not give him reason to venture on it : and I would 
 fain know what it is he could do upon such grounds, as are 
 callable of no doul)t, no objection. 
 
 11. Past Existence is known hy Memory. — As when our 
 senses are actually employed about any object, we do know 
 that it does exist ; so by our memory we may be assured, 
 that heretofore things that affected our senses have existed. 
 And thus we have knowledge of the past existence of several 
 things, whereof our senses having informed us, our memories 
 still retain the ideas ; and of this we are past all doubt, so 
 long as we remember well. But this knowledge also reaches 
 no further than our senses have formerly assured us. Thus, 
 seeing water at this instant, it is an unquestionable truth to 
 me that water doth exist; and remembering that I saw it 
 yesterday, it will also be always true, and as long as my 
 memory retains it always an undoubted proposition to me, 
 that water did exist the 10th of July, 1688, as it will also 
 be equally true that a certain number of very fine colours did 
 exist, which at the same time I saw upon a bubble of that 
 water; but, being now quite out of the sight both of the 
 water and bubbles too, it is no more certainly known to me 
 that the water doth now exist, than that the bubbles or 
 colours therein do so : it being no more necessaiy that 
 water should exist to-day, because it existed yesterday, than 
 that the colours or bubbles exist to-day, because they existed 
 yesterday; though it be exceedingly much more probable, 
 because water hath been observed to continue long in exist- 
 ence, but bubbles, and the colours on them, quickly cease 
 to be. 
 
 12. Tlie Existence of Spirits not hnowahle. — ^What ideas we 
 have of spirits, and how we come by them, I have already 
 shown. But though we have those ideas in our minds, and 
 know we have them there, the having the ideas of spirits 
 does not make us know that any such things do exist with- 
 out us, or that there are any finite spirits, or any other 
 spiritual bemgs but the eternal God. We have ground from 
 revelation, and several other reasons, to believe with as- 
 surance that there are such creatures: but our senses not 
 being able to discover them, we want the means of knowing 
 theii- particidar existences. ' For we can no more know that
 
 CHAP, XI.] KNOWLEDGE OF EXISTENCE OF OTHER THINGS. 251 
 
 there are finite spirits really existing by the idea we have of 
 such beings in oiu' minds, than by the ideas any one has of 
 fairies or centaurs, he can come to know that things answer- 
 ing those ideas do really exist. 
 
 And therefore concerning the existence of finite spirits, as 
 well as several other things, we must content om-selves with 
 the evidence of faith ; but universal, certain propositions con- 
 cerning this matter are beyond our reach. For however true 
 it may be — v. g., that all the intelligent spirits that God 
 ever created, do still exist : yet it can never make a part of 
 our certain knowledge. These and the like propositions we 
 may assent to, as highly probable, but are not, I fear, in this 
 state capable of knowing. We are not, then, to put others 
 upon demonstrating, nor ourselves upon search of universal 
 cei'tainty in all those matters, wherein we are not capable of 
 any other knowledge, but what our senses give us in this or 
 that particular. 
 
 13. Particular Pi'opositions concerning Existence are know- 
 ahle. — By which it appears that there are two sorts of pro- 
 positions. 1. There is one sort of propositions concerning 
 the existence of anything answerable to such an idea : as 
 having the idea of an elephant, phoenix, motion, or an angel, 
 in my mind, the first and natural inquiry is, whether such a 
 thing does anywhere exist? And this knowledge is only of 
 particulars. No existence of anything without us, but only 
 of God, can certainly be known further than our senses in- 
 form us. 2. There is another sort of propositions, wherein is 
 expressed the agreement or disagreement of our abstract 
 ideas, and their dependence on one another. Such propo- 
 sitions may be universal and certain. So, having the idea of 
 God and myself, of fear and obedience, I cannot but be sure 
 that God is to be feared and obeyed by me : and this propo- 
 sition wiU be certain, concerning man in general, if I have 
 made an abstract idea of such a species, whereof I am one 
 particular. But yet this proposition, how certain soever, 
 that men ought to fear and obey God, proves not to me the 
 existence of men in the world, but will be true of all such 
 creatures, whenever they do exist : which certainty of such 
 general propositions depends on the agreement or disagree- 
 ment to be discovered in those abstract ideas. 
 
 14. And general Propositions concerning abstract Ideas. —
 
 252 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IT. 
 
 In the former case, our knowledge is the consequence of the 
 existence of things producing ideas in our minds by our 
 senses: in the latter, knowledge is the consequence of the 
 ideas (be they what they will) that are in our minds pro- 
 ducing there general certain propositions. Many of these ai-e 
 called «;ternse veritates, and all of them indeed are so; not 
 from being written all or any of them in the minds of all 
 men, or that they were any of them propositions in any one's 
 mind, till he, having got the abstract ideas, joined or sepa- 
 rated them by affirmation or negation. But wheresoever we 
 can suppose such a creature as man is, endowed with such 
 faculties, and thereby furnished with such ideas as we have, 
 we must conclude, he must needs, when he applies his thoughts 
 to the consideration of his ideas, know the truth of certain 
 propositions that will arise from the agreement or disagree- 
 ment which he will perceive in his own ideas. Such pi'opo- 
 sitions are therefore called eternal truths, not because they 
 are eternal propositions actually formed, and antecedent to 
 the understanding, that at any time makes them ; nor because 
 they are imprinted on the mind from any patterns that are 
 anywhere out of the mind, and existed before; but because 
 being once made about abstract ideas, so as to be true, they 
 will, whenever they can be supposed to be made again at any 
 tinje past or to come, by a mind having those ideas, always 
 actually be time. For names being supposed to stand perpe- 
 tually for the same ideas, and the same ideas having immu- 
 tably the same habitudes one to another; propositions con- 
 cerning any abstx-act ideas that are once true must needs be 
 eternal verities. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OF THE IMPROVEMENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 1. Knowledge is not from Maxims. — It having been the 
 common received opinion amongst men of letters, that maxims 
 were the foundation of all knowledge ; and that the sciences 
 were each of them built upon certain prfecognita, from whence 
 the understanding was to take its rise, and by which it was 
 to conduct itself in its inquiries into the matters belonging 
 to that science, the beaten road of the schools has been to 
 lay down in the beginning one or more general propositions
 
 CHAP, XII.] IMPROVEMENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE. 253 
 
 as foundations whereon to build the knowledge that was to 
 be had of that subject. These doctrines, thus laid down for 
 foundations of any science, were called jirinciples, as the be- 
 ginnings from which we must set out, and look no fui-ther 
 backwards in our inquiries, as we have already observed. 
 
 2. (The Occasion, of tlmt Opinion.) — One thing which 
 might probably gi\e an occasion to this way of proceeding in 
 other sciences, was (as I supjiose) the good success it seemed 
 to have in mathematics, wherein men, being observed to 
 attain a great certainty of knowledge, these sciences came 
 by pre-eminence to be called MaOZ/juara, and Ma^jjo-jf, learning, 
 or things learned, thoroughly learned, as having of all others 
 the greatest certainty, clearness, and evidence in them. 
 
 3. But from the cornparing clear and distinct Ideas. — But 
 if any one will consider, he will (I guess) find that the great 
 advancement and cei-tainty of real knowledge which men 
 arrived to in these sciences, was not owing to the influence 
 of these principles, nor derived from any peculiar advantage 
 they received from two or three general maxims, laid down 
 in the beginning; but from the clear, distinct, complete ideas 
 their thoughts were employed about, and the relation of 
 equality and excess so clear between some of them, that they 
 had an intuitive knowledge, and by that a way to discover 
 it in others, and this without the help of those maxims. For I 
 ask, is it not possible for a young lad to know that his whole 
 body is bigger than his little finger, but by virtue of this 
 axiom, that the whole is bigger than a paii; ; nor be assured 
 of it, till he has learned that maxim 1 Or cannot a country 
 wencli know that, having received a shilling from one that 
 owes her three, and a shilling also from another that owes 
 hfer three, the remaining debts in each of their hands are 
 equal? Cannot she know this, I say, unless she fetch the 
 certainty of it from this maxim, that if you take equals 
 from equals, the remainder will be equals, a maxim which 
 possibly she never heard or thought of ? I desire any one 
 to consider, from what has been elsewhere said, which is 
 known first and clearest by most people, the particular in- 
 stance, or the general rule ; and which it is that gives life 
 and birth to the other. These general rules are but the 
 comparing our more general and abstract ideas, which are 
 the workmanship of the mind, made, and names given to
 
 254 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAJTDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 them for the easier dispatch in its reasonings, and drawing 
 into comprehensive terms and short rules its various and 
 multiplied observations. But knowledge began in the mind, 
 and was founded on particulars ; though afterwards, pei-haps, 
 no notice was taken thereof : it being natural for the mind 
 (forward still to enlarge its knowledge) most attentively to 
 lay up those general notions, and make the pi-oper use of 
 them, which is to disburden the memory of the cumbersome 
 load of pai'ticvdars. For I desire it may be considered, 
 what more certainty there is to a child, or any one, that his 
 body, little finger, and all, is bigger than his little finger 
 alone, after you have given to his body the name whole, and 
 to his Little finger the name part, than he could have had 
 before; or what new knowledge concerning his body can 
 these two relative terms give him, which he could not have 
 without them? Could he not know that his body was 
 bigger than his little finger, if his language were yet so im- 
 perfect, that he had no such relative terms as whole and 
 part] I ask, further, when he has got these names, how 
 is he more certain that his body is a whole, and his little 
 finger a part, than he was or might be certain before he 
 leai-nt those terms, that his body was bigger than his little 
 finger? Any one may as reasonably doubt or deny that his 
 little finger is a part of his body, as that it is less than his 
 body. And he that can doubt whether it be less, will as 
 certainly doubt whether it be a part. So that the maxim, 
 the whole is bigger than a part, can never be made use 
 of to prove the little finger less than the body, but when 
 it is useless, by being brought to convince one of a truth 
 which he knows already. For he that does not certainly 
 know that any parcel of matter, with another parcel of 
 matter joined to it, is bigger than either of them alone, will 
 never be able to know it by the help of these two re- 
 lative terms, whole and part, make of them what maxim 
 you please. 
 
 4. Dangerous to build upon precarious Principles. — But 
 be it in the mathematics as it will, whether it be clearer, 
 that, taking an inch from a black line of two inches, and an 
 inch from a red line of two inches, the remaining parts of 
 the two lines will be equal, or that if you take equals from 
 equals, the remainder will be equals; which, I say, of these
 
 CHAP. XII.] IMPROVEMENT OF KNOWLEDGE. 255 
 
 two is the clearer and first known, I leave to any one to 
 determine, it not being material to my present occasion. 
 That which I have here to do, is to iuquii-e, whether if it 
 be the readiest way to knowledge to begin with general 
 maxims, and build upon them, it be yet a safe way to take 
 the principles, whicli are laid down in any other science as 
 unquestionable tiiiths; and so receive them without exami- 
 nation, and adhere to them without suffering them to be 
 doubted of, because mathematicians have been so hajipy, or 
 so fair, to use none but self-evident and undeniable. If this 
 be so, I know not what may not jiass for truth in morality, 
 what may not be introduced and proved in natural phi- 
 losophy. 
 
 Let that principle of some of the philosophers, that all is 
 matter, and that there is nothing else, be received for cer- 
 tain and indubitable, and it will be easy to be seen by the 
 writings of some that have revived it again in our days, 
 what consequences it will lead us into.* lict any one, with 
 Polemo, take the world; or with the Stoics, the aether, or 
 the sun;t or with Anaximenes, the air, to be God; and 
 what a divinity, religion, and worship must we needs have ! 
 Nothing can be so dangerous as principles thus taken up 
 "without questioning or examination; especially if they be 
 such as concern morality, which influence men's lives, and 
 give a bias to all their actions. Who might not justly ex- 
 pect another kind of life in Aristippus, who placed happiness 
 in bodily pleasure; and in Antisthenes, who made virtue 
 
 '' See Lipsius Physiolog. Stoic. 1. 1. Diss. "VII. Op. t. iv. p. 846. 
 On the Divinity of the sun, see 1. ii. Diss. 13. "HXiof 6i6^ jxiyiffrog 
 Tixiv KUT ovoavov QtSiv, <f) iravTtQ iKovaiv bi ovpavioi Oeoi, wcfavti 
 jSaffiXel /cat CvvdffTy." (Trismegistus ap. Lips. ub. sup.) — Ed. 
 
 + Anaximenes maintained, according to Diogenes Laertius, that the 
 air and the infinite were the first principles of all things: — " Ovrog 
 apx^v at'ipa ttTrt, /cat to airtipov." (L. II. c. 11, § 1.) Tennemann, 
 therefore, is wrong, where he says, that, " instead of the indeterminate 
 antipov of the latter, (Anaximandros,) certain observations, though 
 partial and limited, on the origin of things, and the nature of the soul, 
 led him to regard the air (a//p,) as the primitive element." (Hist, of 
 Phil. § 87.) Cicero, however, (De Nat. Deor. I. 10,) and Aristotle, 
 (Met. I. 3,) omit to mention the to d-Tnipov. On the general opinions 
 of Anaximenes, Menage refers to the notes of Casaubon, Euseb. Praep. 
 Evan. 1. X. c. ult. ; Nemesius, c. v. ; and the Adversaries of Desederius, 
 Heraldus, 1. ii. c. 12. — Ed.
 
 256 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 sufficient to felicity? And he who, with Plato, shall place 
 beatitude in the knowledge of God, will have his thoughts 
 raised to other contem])lations than those who look not be- 
 yond this spot of earth, and those perishing things which 
 are to be had in it. He that, with Archelaus,* shall lay it 
 down as a principle, that right and wrong, honest and dis- 
 honest, are defined only by laws, and not by nature, will 
 have other measures of moral rectitude and pravity, than 
 those who take it for granted that we are under obligations 
 antecedent to all human constitutions. 
 
 5. This is no certain Way to Trrith. — If, therefore, those 
 that pass for principles are not certain, (which we must have 
 some way to know, that we may be able to distinguish them 
 from those that are doubtful,) but are only made so to us 
 by our blind assent, we are liable to be misled by them; and 
 instead of being guided into truth, we shall, by principles, 
 be only confirmed in mistake and error. 
 
 6. But to compare clear, complete Ideas, under steady Names, 
 — But since the knowledge of the certainty of principles, 
 as well as of all other ti-viths, depends only upon the percep- 
 tion we have of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas, 
 the way to improve our knowledge is not, I am sure, blindly, 
 and with an implicit faith, to receive and swallow principles ; 
 but is, I think, to get and fix in our minds clear, distinct, and 
 complete ideas, as far as they are to be had, and annex to 
 them proper and constant names. And thus, perhaps, with- 
 out any other principles, but barely considering those ideas, 
 and by comparing them one with another, finding their 
 agreement and disagreement, and their several relations and 
 habitudes ; we shall get more true and clear knowledge by 
 the conduct of this one rule, than by taking up principles, 
 and thereby putting our minds into the disposal of others. 
 
 7. The true Method of advancing Knowledge is hy con- 
 sidering our abstract Ideas. — We must, therefore, if we will 
 proceed as reason advises, adapt oiu- methods of inquiry to 
 the natirre of the ideas we examine, and the truth we search 
 after. General and certain truths are only founded in the 
 habitudes and relations of abstract ideas. A sagacious and 
 methodical application of our thoughts, for the finding out 
 
 * On the opinions of Archelaus, see Diog. Laert. II. 16. Tennemann. 
 Hist, of Phil. § 107.— Ed.
 
 CHAP. XII.] IMPROVEMENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE. 257 
 
 these relations, is the only way to discover all that can be 
 put with tiiith and certainty concerning them into general 
 propositions. By what steps we are to proceed iu those, is 
 to be learned in the schools of the mathematicians, who, 
 from very plain and easy beginnings, by gentle degrees, and 
 a continued chain of reasonings, proceed to the discovery 
 and demonstration of truths, that appear at first sight be- 
 yond human capacity. The art of finding proofs, and the 
 admirable methods they have invented for the singling out 
 and laying in order those intermediate ideas that demon- 
 stratively show the equality or inequality of unapplicable 
 quantities, is that which has carried them so far, and pro- 
 duced such wonderful and unexpected discovei'ies ; but 
 whether something like this, in respect of other ideas, as 
 well as those of magnitude, may not in time be found out, 
 I will not determine. This, I think, I may say, that if 
 other ideas that ai"e the real as well as nominal essences of 
 their species, were pursued in the way familiar to mathemati- 
 cians, they would carry our thoughts further, and with greater 
 evidence and clearness than possibly we are apt to imagine. 
 
 8. By xchich Morality also may he made dearer. — This 
 gave me the confidence to advance that conjecture, which 
 I suggest, (chap, iii.) viz., that morality is capable of demon- 
 stration as well as mathematics. For the ideas that ethics 
 are conversant about, being all real essences, and such as 
 I imagine have a discoverable connexion and agreement one 
 with another; so far as we can find their habitudes and 
 relations, so far we shall be possessed of certain, real, and 
 general truths; and I doubt not, but if a right method were 
 taken, a great part of morality might be made out with 
 that clearness, that could leave, to a considering man, no 
 more reason to doubt, than he could have to doubt of the 
 truth of jJi'opositions in mathematics, which have been de- 
 monstrated to him. 
 
 9. But Knowledge of Bodies is to he improved only hy 
 Experience. — In our search after the knowledge of substances, 
 our want of ideas that are siiitable to such a way of pro- 
 ceeding obliges us to a quite different method. We advance 
 not here, as in the other, (where our absti'act ideas are real 
 as well as nominal essences,) by contemplating our ideas, 
 and considering their relations and correspondences; that 
 
 VOL. II. S
 
 258 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAITDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 helps us very little, for the jensons, that in another place 
 we have at large set clown. By which I think it is '»vir1<»nt, 
 that substances afford matter of very little general know- 
 ledge; and the bare coutemplation of their abstract ideas 
 will carry us but a veiy little way in the search of tnith and 
 certainty. What, then, are we to do for the improvement of 
 our knowledge in substantial beings'? Here we are to take 
 a quite contrary course ; the want of ideas of their real es- 
 sences sends us from our own thoughts to the things them- 
 selves, as they exist. Experience here must teach me what 
 reason cannot; and it is by trying alone, that I can cer- 
 tainly know, what other qualities co-exist with those of my 
 complex idea, v. g., whether that yellow, heavy, fusible body 
 I call gold, be malleable, or no; which experience (which 
 way ever it prove in that particular body I examine) makes 
 me not certain, that it is so in all, or any other yellow, 
 heavy, fusible bodies, but that which I have tried. Because 
 it is no consequence one way or the other from my complex 
 idea; the necessity or inconsistence of malleability hath no 
 visible comiexion with the combination of that colour, weight, 
 and fusibility in any body. What I have said here of the 
 nominal essence of gold, supposed to consist of a body of 
 such a determinate colour, weight, and fusibility, will hold 
 true, if malleableness, fixedness, and solubility in aqua regia 
 be added to it. Our reasonings from these ideas will carry 
 us but a little way in the certain discovery of the other 
 properties in those masses of matter wherein all these are 
 to be found. Because the other properties of such bodies, 
 depending not on these, but on that unknown real essence 
 on which these also depend, we cannot by them discover 
 the rest ; we can go no further than the simple ideas of our 
 nominal essence will carry us, which is very little beyond 
 themselves; and so afford us but very sparingly any certain, 
 universal, and useful traths. For upon trial having found 
 that particvilar piece (and all others of that colour, weight, 
 and fusibility, that I ever tried) malleable, that also makes 
 now, perhaps, a part of my complex idea, part of my nominal 
 essence of gold : whereby though I make my complex idea to 
 which I affix the name gold, to consist of more simple ide 
 than before ; yet still, it not containing the real essence of any 
 species of bodies, it helps me not certainly to know (I say to
 
 CHAP, XII.] IMPROVEMENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE. 259 
 
 know, perhaps it may he to conjecture) the other remaining 
 properties of that body, fui'ther than they have a visible con- 
 nexion with some or all of the simple ideas that make up 
 my nominal essence. For example, I camiot be certain 
 from this complex idea, whether gold be fixed or no; be- 
 cause, as before, there is no necessary connexion or iiicon- 
 sisteuce to be discovered betwixt a complex idea of a body 
 yellow, heavy, fusible, malleable; betwixt these, I say, and 
 fixedness; so that I may certainly know, that in whatso- 
 ever body these are found, there fixedness is sure to be. 
 Here, again, for assurance, I must apply myself to ex- 
 perience; as far as that reaches, I may have certain know- 
 ledge, but no further. 
 
 10. This viay procure ^^s Convenience, not Science. — I deny 
 not but a man, accustomed to rational and regitlar experi- 
 ments, shall be able to see further into the nature of bodies, 
 and guess righter at their yet unknown properties, than one 
 that is a stranger to them : but yet, as I have said, this is 
 but judgment and opinion, not knowledge and certainty. 
 This way of getting and improving our knowledge in sub- 
 stances only by experience and history, which is all that the 
 weakness of our faculties in this state of mediocrity which 
 we are in in this world can attain to, makes me suspect that 
 natural philosophy is not capable of being made a science. 
 We are able, I imagine, to reach very little general know- 
 ledge concerning the species of bodies, and their several 
 properties. Experiments and histoi-ical observations we 
 may have, from which we may draw advantages of ease and 
 health, and thereby increase our stock of conveniences for 
 this life; but beyond this I fear our talents reach not, nor 
 are our faculties, as I guess, able to advance. 
 
 11. We are fitted for moral Knoioledge and natural Im- 
 proveineyits. — From whence it is obvious to conclude, that, 
 since our faculties are not fitted to penetrate into the internal 
 fabric and real essences of bodies ; but yet plainly discover 
 to us the being of a God, and the knowledge of ourselves, 
 enough to lead us into a full and clear discoveiy of our dvity 
 and great concernment; it will become us, as rational crea- 
 tures, to employ those faculties we have about what they are 
 most adapted to, and follow the direction of nature, where it 
 seems to point \is out the way. For it is rational to con- 
 
 S 2
 
 260 OF HUMA2r UNDERSTA2n)ING. [bOOK IA". 
 
 elude, that our proper employment lies in those inquii'ies, 
 and in that sort of knowledge which is most suited to our 
 natural capacities, and carries in it our greatest interest, i. e., 
 the condition of our eternal estate. Hence I think I may- 
 conclude, that morality is the proper science and business of 
 mankind in genera], (who are both concerned and fitted to 
 search out their summum bonum,) as several arts, conversant 
 about several parts of nature, are the lot and private talent 
 of particular men, for the common use of human Hfe, and 
 their own particular subsistence in this world. Of what 
 consequence the discovery of one natural body and its pro- 
 perties may be to human life, the whole great continent of 
 A merica is a convincing instance : whose ignorance in useful 
 arts, and want of the greatest part of the conveniences of life, 
 in a country that abounded with all sorts of natural plenty, 
 I think may be attributed to their ignorance of what was 
 to be found in a very ordinary, despicable stone; I mean 
 the mineral of iron. And whatever we think of our parts 
 or improvements in this part of the world, where knowledge 
 and plenty seem to vie with each other; yet to any one that 
 will seriously i-eflect on it, I suppose it will appear past 
 doubt, that, were the use of ii'on lost among us, we should in 
 a few ages be unavoidably reduced to the wants and igno- 
 rance of the ancient savage Americans, whose natural en- 
 dowments and provisions come no way short of those of the 
 most flourishing and poHte nations. So that he who first 
 made known the use of that contemptible mineral, may be 
 tridy styled the father of arts, and author of plenty. 
 
 12. But must beware of Hypotheses and wrong Principles. — 
 I would not, therefore, be thought to disesteem or dissuade 
 the study of nature. I readily agi-ee the contemplation of 
 his works gives us occasion to admire, i-evere, and glorify 
 their Author; and, if rightly directed, may be of greater 
 benefit to mankind than the monuments of exemplary charity, 
 that have at so gi-eat charge been raised by the founders of 
 hospitals and almshouses. He that first invented printing, 
 discovei-ed the use of the compass, or made public the virtue 
 and right use of kin kina, did more for the propagation of 
 knowledge, for the supply and increase of useful commodities, 
 and saved more frona the grave, than those who built colleges, 
 workhouses, and hospitals. AU that I would say is, that we.
 
 CHAP. XII.] IMPROVEMENT OF OUR ICXOWLEDGE. 2QI 
 
 should not be too forwardly possessed with the opinion or 
 expectation of knowledge, where it is not to be had, or by 
 •ways that mil not attain to it: that we should not take 
 doubtful systems for complete sciences, nor unintelligilile 
 notions for scieutifical demonstrations. In the knowledge 
 of bodies, we must be content to glean Avhat we can from 
 particular experiments ; since we cannot, from a discovery ol' 
 their real essences, grasp at a time whole sheaves, and in 
 bundles comprehend the nature and properties of whole 
 species together. Where our inquiry is concerning co-exist- 
 ence, or repugnancy to co-exist, which by contemplation of 
 our ideas we cannot discover; there ex,perience, observation, 
 and natural history, must give us, by our senses and by 
 retail, an insight into corporeal substances. The knowledge 
 of bodies we must get by our senses, warily employed in 
 taking notice of their qualities and operations on one an- 
 other; and what we hope to know of separate spu'its in this 
 world, we must, I think, expect only from revelation. He 
 that shall consider how little general maxims, precarious 
 principles, and hypotheses laid down at pleasure, have pro- 
 moted true knowledge, or helped to satisfy the inquiries of 
 rational men after real improvements : how little, I say, the 
 setting out at that end has, for many ages together, advanced 
 men's progres towards the knowledge of natural philosophy, 
 will think we have reason to thank those who in this latter 
 age have taken another course, and have trod out to us, 
 though not an easier way to learned ignoi'ance, yet a surer 
 way to profitable knowledge. 
 
 13. Tlie true Use of Hypotheses. — Not that we may not, to 
 explain any phenomena of nature, make use of any probable 
 hypothesis whatsoever; hypotheses, if they are weU made, 
 are at least great helps to the memory, and often direct us 
 to new discoveries. But my meaning is, that we should not 
 take up any one too hastily (which the mind, that would 
 always penetx-ate into the causes of things, and have prin- 
 ciples to rest on, is very apt to do,) till we have very Avell 
 examined particulars, and made several experiments, in that 
 thing which we would explain by our hypothesis, and see 
 whether it mil agree to them all; whether our prmciples 
 will carry us quite through, and not be as inconsistent with 
 one phenomenon of nature, as they seem to accommodate
 
 262 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 and explain another. And at least that we take care that 
 the name of principles deceive us not, nor impose on us, by 
 making us receive that for an vmquestionable truth, which 
 is really at best but a very doubtful conjecture, such as are 
 most (I had almost said all) of the hypotheses in natiu'al 
 philosojahy. 
 
 14. Clear and distinct Ideas loith settled Names, and tlie 
 Jmding of those lohich show their Agreement or Disagreement, 
 are the Ways to enlarge our Knowledge. — But whether natural 
 philosophy be capable of certainty or no, the ways to enlarge 
 cm- knowledge, as far as we are capable, seem to me, in short, 
 to be these two : 
 
 First, The first is to get and settle in our minds deter- 
 mined ideas of those things whereof we have general or spe- 
 cific names; at least, so many of them as we would consider 
 and improve our knowledge in, or reason about. And if 
 they be specific ideas of substances, we should endeavour also 
 to make them as complete as we can, whereby I mean, that 
 we should put together as many simple ideas as, being con- 
 stantly observed to co-exist, may perfectly determine the 
 tfpecies ; and each of those simple ideas which are the ingre- 
 dients of our complex ones, should be clear and distinct in 
 our minds. For it being evident that our knowledge cannot 
 exceed our ideas; as far as they are either imperfect, con- 
 fused, or obscure, we cannot expect to have certain, perfect, 
 or clear knowledge. 
 
 Secondly, The other is the art of finding out those inter- 
 mediate ideas, which may show us the agreement or repugnancy 
 of other ideas, which cannot be immediately compared. 
 
 15. Mathematics an Instance of it. — That these two (and 
 not the relying on maxims, and drawing consequences from 
 some general propositions) are the right methods of improving 
 our knowledge in the ideas of other modes besides those of 
 quantity, the considei-ation of mathematical knowledge will 
 easily inform us. Where first we shall find that he that has 
 not a perfect and clear idea of those angles or figures of 
 which he desires to know anything, is utterly thereby inca- 
 pable of any knowledge about them. Suppose but a man 
 not to have a perfect exact idea of a right angle, a scalenum, 
 or trapezium, and there is nothing more certain than that 
 he will in vain seek anv demonstration about them. Fur-
 
 CHAP, XIII.J COXCERKING OUR KNOWLEDGE. 263 
 
 thei', it is evident, that it was not the influence of those 
 maxims which are taken for principles in mathematics, that 
 hath led the masters of that science into those wonderfid 
 discoveries they have made. Let a man of good parts know 
 all the maxims generally made use of in mathematics ever so 
 perfectly, aud contemplate their extent and consequences as 
 much as he pleases, he will, by their assistance, I suppose, 
 scarce ever come to know that the square of the hypothenuse 
 in a right-angled triangle is equal to the squares of the two 
 other sides. The knowledge that the whole is equal to all 
 its parts, and if you take equals from equals, the remainder 
 \vill be equal, &c., helped him not, I presume, to this demon- 
 stration : and a man may, I think, pore long enough on 
 those axioms, without ever seeing one jot the more of mathe- 
 matical truths. They have been discovered by the thoughts 
 otherwise applied : the mind had other objects, other views 
 before it, far different from those maxims, when it first got 
 the knowledge of such truths in mathematics, which men 
 well enough acquainted with those received axioms, but 
 ignoi'ant of theii" method who first made these demonstrations, 
 can never sufficiently admire. And who knows what methods 
 to enlarge our knowledge in other parts of science may here- 
 after be invented, answering that of algebra in mathematics, 
 which so readily finds out the ideas of quantities to measure 
 others by; whose equality or proportion we cotdd othex'wise 
 very hardly, or, perhaps, never come to know? 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SOME FURTHER CONSIDERATIONS CONCERNING OUR 
 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 1. Om' Knowledge partly necessary, 'partly volunta/ry, — Our 
 knowledge, as in other things, so in this, has so great a con- 
 fonuity with our sight, that it is neither wholly imnecessary, 
 nor wholly voluntaiy. If our knowledge were altogether 
 necessary, all men's knowledge would not only be alike, but 
 every man would know all that is knowable ; and if it were 
 wholly voluntary, some men so little regard or value it, that 
 they would have extreme little, or none at all. Men that have 
 senses cannot choose but receive some ideas by them; and if
 
 26i OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 they have memory, they cannot but retain some of them ; and 
 if they have any distinguishing faculty, cannot but perceive tlie 
 agreement or disagreement of some of them one with another ; 
 as he that has eyes, if he will open them by day, cannot but 
 see some objects, and perceive a difference in them. But 
 though a man with his eyes open in the light, cannot but 
 see, yet there be certain objects which he may choose 
 whether he will turn his eyes to ; there may be in his reach 
 a book containing pictures and discourses, capable to delight 
 or instruct him, which yet he may never have the will to 
 open, never take the pains to look into. 
 
 2. The Application voluntary; but we know as things are, 
 not as we please. — There is also another thing in a man's 
 power, and that is, though he turns his eyes sometimes to- 
 wards an object, yet he may choose whether he will curiously 
 survey it, and with an intent application endeavom- to ob- 
 serve accurately all that is visible in it; but yet, what he 
 does see, he cannot see otherwise than he does. It depends 
 not on his will to see that black which appears yellow ; nor 
 to persuade himself, that what actually scalds him, feels cold. 
 The earth will not apjjear painted with flowers, nor the fields 
 covered with verdure, whenever he has a mind to it : in the 
 cold winter, he cannot help seeing it white and hoary, if* he 
 will look abroad. Just thus is it with our understanding: 
 all that is voluntary in our knowledge is the employing or 
 withholding any of our faculties, from this or that sort of 
 objects, and a more or less accurate survey of them: but, 
 they being employed, our will hath no power to determine 
 the knowledge of the mind one way or another; that is done 
 only by the objects themselves, as far as they are clearly 
 diF covered. And therefore, as far as men's senses are con- 
 versant about external objects, the mind cannot but receive 
 those ideas which are presented by them, and be informed of 
 the existence of things without; and so far as men's thoughts 
 converse with their own determined ideas, they cannot but 
 in some measure observe the agreement or disagreement that 
 is to be found amongst some of them, which is so far know- 
 ledge: and if they have names for those ideas which they 
 have thus considered, they must needs be assured of the 
 truth of those propositions which express that agreement or 
 disagreement they perceive in them, and be undoubtedly
 
 CHAP. XIV.] OF JUDGMENT. 2G5 
 
 convinced of those truths. For what a man sees, he cannot 
 but see ; and what he perceives, he cannot but know that he 
 perceives. 
 
 3. Instance in Numbers. — Thus, he that has got the ideas 
 of numbers, and hath taken the pains to compare one, two, 
 and three, to six, cannot choose but know that they are 
 equal : he that hath got the idea of a triangle, and found the 
 ways to measure its angles and their magnitudes, is certain 
 that its three angles are equal to two right ones ; and can as 
 little doubt of that, as of this truth, that, It is imj^ossible for 
 the same thing to be, and not to be. 
 
 4. In Natural Religion. — He also that hath the idea of an 
 intelligent, but frail and weak being, made by and depending 
 on another, who is eternal, omnipotent, perfectly wise and 
 good, will as certainly know that man is to honour, fear, and 
 obey God, as that the sun shines when he sees it. For if he 
 hath but the ideas of two such beings in his mind, and will 
 turn his thoughts that way, and consider them, he will as 
 certainly fiud that the inferior, finite, and dependent, is 
 under an obligation to obey the supreme and infinite, as he 
 is certain to find that three, four, and seven are less than 
 fifteen, if he will consider and compute those numbers; nor 
 can he be siu'er in a clear morning that the sun is risen, 
 if he will but open liis eyes, and turn them that way. But 
 yet these truths, being ever so certain, ever so clear, he may 
 be ignorant of either, or all of them, who will never take 
 the pains to employ his faculties, as he should, to inform 
 himself about them. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 1. Our Knowledge being short, vie vjant something else. — 
 The understanding faculties being given to man, not bai'ely 
 for speculation, but also for the conduct of his life, man 
 would be at a great loss if he had nothing to direct him 
 but what has the certainty of true knowledge. For that 
 being very short and scanty, as we have seen, he would be 
 often utterly in the dark, and in most of the actions of his 
 life, perfectly at a stand, had he nothing to guide him in 
 the absence of clear and certain knowledge. He that will
 
 266 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 not eat till he has demonstration that it will nourish him ; 
 he that will not stir till he infallibly knows the business he 
 goes about will succeed, will have little else to do but to sit 
 still and perish. 
 
 2. What Use to be made of this tioilight State. — Therefore, 
 as God has set some tilings in broad daylight ; as he has 
 given us some certain knowledge, though limited to a few 
 things in comparison, jjrobably as a taste of what intel- 
 lectual creatures are capable of to excite in us a desire and 
 endeavoiu' after a better state : so, in the greatest part of 
 our concernments, he has afforded us only the twilight, as I 
 may so say, of probability; suitable, I presume, to that 
 state of mediocrity and probationership he has been jileased 
 to place us in here; wherein, to check our over-confidence 
 and presumption, we might, by eveiy day's experience, be 
 made sensible of our shoi-t-sightedness and liableness to 
 error;* the sense Avhereof might be a constant admonition 
 to us, to spend the days of this our j)ilgrimage with industry 
 and care, in the search and following of that way which 
 might lead us to a state of greater perfection : it being 
 highly rational to think, even were revelation silent in the 
 case, that, as men employ those talents God has given them 
 here, they shall accordingly receive their rewards at the 
 close of the day, when their sun shall set, and night shall 
 put an end to their labours. 
 
 3. Jiidgment sujjplies the Want of K')iowledge. — The faculty 
 which God has given man to supply the want of clear and 
 certain knowledge, in cases where that cannot be had, is judg- 
 ment : whereby the mind takes its ideas to agree or disagi'ee ; 
 or, which is the same, any proposition to be true or false, with- 
 out pei'ceiving a demonstrative evidence in the proofs. The 
 mind sometimes exercises this judgment out of necessity, where 
 demonsti'ative proofs and certain knowledge are not to be 
 had; and sometimes out of laziness, unskilfulness, or haste, 
 even where demonstrative and certain proofs are to Ije had. 
 Men often stay not warily to examine the agreement or dis- 
 agreement of two ideas, which they are desii'ous or concerned 
 
 * See, for a picture of the quick-judging man of the world, who seizes 
 on the fittest occasions for action, and is able at a glance to distinguish 
 the expedient from the inexpedient, Cardan's curious and valuable 
 treatise, De Prudentia Civile, c. xxii. p. 67. — Ed.
 
 CHAP, XV.] OF PROBABILITY. 267 
 
 to know ; but, either incapable of such attention as is requi- 
 site in a long train of gradations, or impatient of delay 
 lightly cast their eyes on, or wholly pass by the j^roofs ; and 
 so, without making out the demonstration, determine of the 
 agreement or disagi'eement of two ideas, as it were by a view 
 of them as they are at a tlistance, and take it to be the one 
 or the other, as seems most likely to them upon such a loose 
 siu'vey. This faculty of the mind, when it is exercised 
 immediately about things, is called judgment; when about 
 truths delivered in words, is most commonly called assent or 
 dissent : which being the most usual way, wherein the mind 
 has occasion to employ this faculty, I shall, under these 
 terms, treat of it, as least liable in our language to equi- 
 vocation. 
 
 4. Judgment is the jyresiiming Things to he so, without inr- 
 ceiving it. — Thus the mind has two faculties conversant about 
 truth and flilsehood. 
 
 First, Knowledge, whereby it certainly perceives, and is 
 undoubtedly satisfied of the agreement or disagreement of 
 any ideas. 
 
 Secondly, Judgment, which is the putting ideas together, 
 or separating them from one another in the mind, when their 
 certain agreement or disagreement is not perceived, but pre- 
 sumed to be so ; wliich is, as the word imports, taken to be 
 so before it certainly appeal's. And if it so unites or sepa- 
 rates them, as in reality things are, it is right judgment. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 OF PROBABILITY. 
 
 1. Frobability is the Ajypearance of Agreement upon f alii- 
 hie Proofs. — As demonstration is the showing the agreement 
 or disagreement of two ideas, by the intervention of one or 
 more proofs, which have a constant, immutable, and visible 
 connexion one with another; so probability is nothing but 
 the appearance of such an agreement or disagreement, by 
 the intervention of proofs, whose connexion is not constant 
 and immutable, or at least is not perceived to be so, but is, 
 or appears for the most part to be so, and is enough to induce 
 the mind to judge the proposition to be true or 'false, rather
 
 268 OP HUMAN UNDERSTAKDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 than the contrary. For example : in the demonstration of 
 it a man perceives the certain, immutable connexion there 
 is of equality between the three angles of a triangle, and 
 those intermediate ones which are made use of to show their 
 equality to two right ones; and so, by an intuitive know- 
 ledge of the agreement or disagreement of the intermediate 
 ideas in each step of the progress, the whole series is con- 
 tinued with an evidence, which clearly shows the agreement 
 6r disagreement of those three angles in equality to two 
 right ones : and thus he has certain knowledge that it is so. 
 But another man, who never took the pains to observe the 
 demonstration, hearing a mathematician, a man of credit, 
 affirm the three angles of a triangle to be equal to two right 
 ones, assents to it, i. e., receives it for true : in which case the 
 foundation of his assent is the probability of the thing; the 
 proof being such as for the most part carries truth with it : 
 the man on whose testimony he receives it, not being wont 
 to affirm anything contrary to or besides his knowledge, 
 especially in matters of this kind : so that that which causes 
 his assent to this proposition, that the three angles of a 
 triangle are equal to two right ones, that which makes him 
 take these ideas to agree, without knowing them to do so, is 
 the wonted veracity of the speaker in other cases, or his 
 supposed veracity in this. 
 
 2. It is to sup2)ly the Want of Knowledge. — Our knowledge, 
 as has been shown, being very narrow, and we not happy 
 enough to find certain truth in everything which we have 
 'occasion to consider; most of the propositions we think, 
 reason, discoui-se — nay, act upon, are such as we cannot have 
 undoubted knowledge of their truth: yet some of them 
 border so near upon certainty, that we make no doubt at all 
 about them; but assent to them as firmly, and act, according 
 to that assent, as resolutely as if they were infallibly demon- 
 strated, and that our knowledge of them was perfect and 
 cei-tain. But there being degrees herein, from the very neigh- 
 bourhood of certainty and demonstration, quite down to im- 
 probability and unlikeness, even to the confines of impos- 
 sibility ; and also degrees of assent from full assurance and 
 confidence, quite down to conjecture, doubt, and distrust : I 
 shall come now, (having, as I think, found out the bounds 
 of human knowledge and certainty,) in the next place, to
 
 CHAP. XV.] OF PROBABILITY. 2G9 
 
 consider the several degrees and grounds of probability, and 
 assent or faith. 
 
 3. Being t/iat which makes its jyresiime Things to be t'tiie 
 before ice know them to he so. — Probability is likeliness to be 
 true, the very notation of the word signifying such a propo- 
 sition, for -which there be arguments or proofs to make it 
 pass or be received for true. The entertainment the mind 
 gives this sort of propositions is called belief, assent, or 
 opuiion, which is the admitting or receiving any proposition 
 for true, upon arguments or proofs that are found to persuade 
 us to receive it as true, ■wathout certain knowledge that it 
 is so. And herein lies the difference between probability 
 and certainty, faith and knowledge, that in all the parts of 
 knowledge there is intuition ; each immediate idea, each step 
 has its ^•isible and cei-tain connexion : in belief, not so. That 
 wliich makes me believe, is something extraneous to the 
 thing I believe; something not evidently joined on both 
 sides to, and so not manifestly showing the agreement or 
 disagreement of those ideas that are under consideration. 
 
 4. The Grounds of Probability a/re two : Conformity loith 
 our own experience, or the Testinnony of otlwri Exj^erience. — 
 Probability, then, being to supply the defect of our know- 
 ledge and to guide us where that fails, is always conversant 
 about propositions, whereof we have no certainty, but only 
 some inducements to receive them for true. The grounds of 
 it are, in short, these two following : 
 
 First, The conformity of anything with our own know- 
 ledge, observation, and experience. 
 
 Secondly, The testimony of others, vouching their observa- 
 tion and experience. In the testimony of others, is to be 
 considered, 1 . The number. 2. The integrity. 3. The skill 
 of the witnesses. 4, The design of the author, where it is a 
 testimony out of a book cited. 5. The consistency of the 
 parts, and circumstances of the relation. 6. Contrary testi- 
 monies. 
 
 5. In this, all tJie Arguments pro and con ought to he ex- 
 amined before we come to a Judgment. — Probability wanting 
 that intuitive evidence which infallibly determines the under- 
 standing, and produces certain knowledge, the mind, if it 
 woidd proceed rationally, ought to examine all the grounds of 
 probability, and see how they make more or less for or against
 
 270 OP HUMAN UNDEESTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 any proposition, before it assents to or dissents from it ; and, 
 ujjon a due balancing the whole, reject or receive it, with a 
 more or less firm assent, proportionably to the preponderancy 
 of the greater grounds of probability on one side or the 
 other. For example : 
 
 If I myself see a man walk on the ice, it is past proba- 
 bility, it is knowledge : but if another tells me he saw a 
 man in England, in the midst of a sharp winter, walk upon 
 water, hardened with cold, this has so gi'eat conformity with 
 what is usually observed to happen, that I am disposed 
 by the nature of the thing itself to assent to it, unless some 
 manifest suspicion attend the relation of that matter of fact. 
 But if the same thing be told to one born between the tropics, 
 who never saw nor heard of any such thing before, there the 
 whole probability reHes on testimony : and as the relators 
 are more in number, and of more credit and have no interest 
 to speak contrary to the truth, so that matter of fact is like 
 to find more or less belief. Though to a man whose expe- 
 rience has always been quite contrary, and who has never 
 heard of anything like it, the most unattainted credit of a 
 witness will scarce be able to find belief. As it happened to 
 a Dutch ambassador, who entertaining the king of Siam 
 with the particularities of Holland, which he was inquisitive 
 after, amongst other things told him, that the water in his 
 country would sometimes, in cold weather, be so hard, that 
 men walked upon it, and that it would bear an elephant, if 
 he were there. To which the king replied, " Hitherto I 
 have believed the strange things you have told me, because 
 I look upon you as a sober fair man, but now I am sure you 
 lie." 
 
 6. Tliey being capable of great Variety. — Upon these 
 grounds depends the probability of any proposition : and as 
 the conformity of our knowledge, as the certainty of obser- 
 vations, as the frequency and constancy of experience, and 
 the number and credibility of testimonies do more or less 
 agree or disagree with it, so is any proposition in itself more 
 or less probable. There is another, I confess, which, though 
 by itself it be no true ground of probability, yet is often 
 made use of for one, by which men most commonly regulate 
 their assent, and upon which they pin their faith more than 
 any tiling else, and that is, the opinion of others : though
 
 CHAP. XVI.] DEGREES OP ASSENT. 271 
 
 there cannot be a more dangerous thing to rely on, nor 
 more likely to mislead one ; since there is much more false- 
 hood and error among men, than truth and knowledge. And 
 if the opinions and persuasions of others, whom we know 
 and think well of, be a ground of assent, men have reason to 
 be Heathens in Japan, Mahometans in Turkey, Papists in 
 Spain, Protestants in England, and Lutherans in Sweden. 
 Biit of this wrong ground of assent I shall have occasion to 
 speak more at large in another place. 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 OF THE DEGREES OP ASSENT. 
 
 1. Our Assent ought to he regulated hy the Grounds of Pro- 
 hability. — The grounds of probability we have laid down in 
 the foregoing chapter ; as they are the foundations on which 
 our assent is built, so are they also the measui-e whereby its 
 several degrees are, or ought to be regulated: only we are to 
 take notice, that, whatever grounds of probability there may 
 be, they yet operate no further on the mind which searches 
 after truth, and endeavours to judge right, than they appear; 
 at least, in the first judgment or search that the mind 
 makes. I confess, in the opinions men have, and firmly 
 stick to in the world, their assent is not always from an 
 actual view of the reasons that at first prevailed with them : 
 it being in many cases almost impossible, and in most, very 
 hard, even for those who have very admirable memories, to 
 retain all the proofe which, upon a due examination, made 
 them embrace that side of the question. It suffices that 
 they have once with cai'e and fairness sifted the matter as far 
 as they could; and that they have searched into all the par- 
 ticulars, that they could imagine to give any light to the 
 question; and, with the best of their skill, cast up the 
 account upon the whole evidence : and thus, having once 
 foimd on which side the probability appeared to them, after as 
 full and exact an inquiry as they can make, they lay up the 
 conclusion in their memories, as a truth they have dis- 
 covered ; and for the future they remain satisfied with the 
 testimony of their memoiies, that this is the opinion that.
 
 272 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 by the proofs tliey have once seen of it, deserves such a 
 degree of their assent as they afford it. 
 
 2. These cannot always he actually in View, and then we 
 must content ourselves with tlie Eememhrance tliat we once saw 
 Ground for such a Degree of Assent. — This is all that the 
 greatest part of men are capable of doing, in regulating their 
 opinions and j udgments ; unless a man will exact of them, 
 either to retain distinctly in their memories all the proofs 
 concerning any probable truth, and that too, in the same 
 order, and regular deduction of consequences in which they 
 have formerly placed or seen them; which sometimes is 
 enough to fill a large volume on one single question : or 
 else they must require a man, for every opinion that he 
 embraces, every day to examine the proofs : both which are 
 impossible. It is unavoidable, therefoi'e, that the memory 
 be relied on in the case, and that men be persuaded of several 
 opinions, whereof the proofs are not actually in their thoughts : 
 nay, which j^erhaps they are not able actually to recal. 
 Without this, the greatest part of men must be either very 
 sceptics, or change every moment, and yield themselves up to 
 whoever, having lately studied the question, offers them 
 arguments; which, for want of memory, they are not able 
 presently to answer. 
 
 3. The ill Consequence of this, if our former Judgments 
 were not 7-ightly made. — I cannot but own, that men's stick- 
 ing to their past judgment, and adhering firmly to conclusions 
 formerly made, is often the cause of great obstinacy in error 
 and mistake. But the fault is not that they rely on their 
 memories for whet they have before well judged, but be- 
 cause they judged before they had well examined. May 
 we not find a great number (not to say the greatest part) of 
 men that think they have formed right judgments of several 
 matters; and that for no other reason, but because they 
 never thought otherwise? who imagine themselves to have 
 judged right, only because they never questioned, never ex- 
 amined their own opinions'? Wliich is indeed to think they 
 judged I'ight, because they never judged at all : and yet 
 these, of all men, hold their opinions with the gi-eatest stiff- 
 ness; those being generally the most fierce and firm in their 
 tenets, who have least examined them. What we once know, 
 we are certain is so : and we may be secvu:e, that there are
 
 CHAP. XVI.] DEGREES OF ASSENT. 273 
 
 uo latent proofs iiudiscovered, which may overturn our know- 
 ledge, or bring it in doubt. But, in matters of probability, 
 it is not in every case we can be sure that we have all the 
 particulars before us, that any way concern the question ; 
 and that there is no evidence behind, and yet unseen, which 
 may cast the probability on the other side, and outweigh 
 all that at pi-esent seems to preponderate with us. Who 
 almost is there that hath the leisure, patience, and means 
 to collect together all the proofs concerning most of the 
 opinions he has, so as safely to conclude that he hath a clear 
 and full view; and that there is no more to be alleged for 
 his better information? And yet we are forced to determine 
 ourselves on the one side or other. The conduct of our lives, 
 and the management of our great concerns, will not beai- 
 delay : for those depend, for the most part, on the deter- 
 mination of our judgment in points wherein we are not 
 capable of certain and demonstrative knowledge, and where- 
 in it is necessary for us to embrace the one side or the 
 other. 
 
 4. The right Use of it, mutual Clixxrity and Forhea/rance. 
 — Since, therefore, it is unavoidable to the greatest part of 
 men, if not all, to have several opirdons, without certain and 
 indubitable proofs of their truth; and it carries too great 
 an imputation of ignorance, lightness, or folly for men to 
 quit and renounce their former tenets presently upon the 
 offer of an argument which they cannot immediately answer, 
 and show the insufficiency of: it would, methinks, become 
 all men to maintain peace, and the common offices of hu- 
 manity and friendship, in the diversity of opinions; since 
 we cannot reasonably expect that any one should readily 
 and obsequiously quit his own opinion, and embrace ours 
 with a blind resignation to an authority which the under- 
 standing of man acknowledges not.* For however it may 
 
 * In exactly the same spirit, Jeremy Taylor writes as follows, speak- 
 ing of the heresies and schisms which formerly rose in the Christian 
 world, and the attempts which were made to introduce unifoi-mity of 
 opinion: — "Few men in the mean time considered, that, so long as 
 men had such variety of principles, such several constitutions, educa- 
 tions, tempers, and distempers, hopes, interests, and weaknesses, de- 
 grees of light, and degrees of understanding, it was impossible all should 
 be of one mind. And what is impossible to be done is not necessary 
 it should be done ; and therefore, although variety of opinions was im- 
 VOL. II. T
 
 274 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAlfDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 often mistake, it can own no other guide but reason, nor 
 blindly submit to the will and dictates of another. If he 
 you would bring over to your sentiments be one that ex- 
 amines before he assents, you must give him leave at his 
 leisure to go over the account again, and, recalling what is 
 out of his mind, examine all the particulars, to see on which 
 side the advantage lies : and if he will not think our argu- 
 ments of weight enough to engage him anew in so much 
 pains, it is but what we often do ourselves in the like case; 
 and we should take it amiss if others should prescribe to us 
 what points we shoiUd study. And if he be one who takes 
 his opinions upon trust, how can we imagine that he should 
 renounce those tenets which time and custom have so settled 
 in his mind, that he thinks them self-evident, and of an un- 
 questionable certainty ; or which he takes to be impressions 
 he has received from God himself, or from men sent by him] 
 How can we expect, I say, that opinions thus settled should 
 be given up to the arguments or authority of a stranger or 
 adversary, especially if there be any suspicion of interest or 
 design, as there never fails to be, where men find themselves 
 ill treated? We should do well to commiserate our mutual 
 ignorance, and endeavour to remove it in all the gentle and 
 fair ways of information; and not instantly treat others ill, 
 as obstinate and perverse, because they will not renounce 
 tlieir own, and receive oui- opinions, or at least those we 
 would force upon them, when it is more than probable that 
 we are no less obstinate in not embracing some of theirs. 
 For where is the man that has incontestible evidence of the 
 truth of all that he holds, or of the falsehood of all he con- 
 demns; or can say that he has examined to the bottom all 
 bis own, or other men's o23inions? The necessity of believ- 
 ing without knowledge, nay often upon very slight gi'ounds, 
 in this fleeting state of action and blindness we are in, should 
 make us more busy and careful to inform oiu-selves than 
 constrain others. At least, those who have not thoroughly 
 
 possible to be cured, (and they who attempted it, did like him who claps 
 his shoulder to the groimd to stop an earthquake, ) yet the inconveniences 
 arising from it might possibly be cured, not by uniting their beliefs — 
 tJiat was to be despaired of — but by curing that which caused these mis- 
 chiefs, and accidental inGonveniences of their disagreeings." (Int. to 
 Lib. of Proph. p. 2.)— Ed.
 
 CHAP. XVI.] DEGREES OF ASSENT. 275 
 
 examined to the bottom all their own tenets, must confess 
 they are unfit to prescribe to others; and are unreasonable 
 in imposing that as truth on other men's belief, which they 
 themselves have not searched into, nor weighed the argu- 
 ments of probability, on which they should receive or reject 
 it. Those who have fairly and tnxly examined, and are 
 thereby got past doubt in all the doctrines they px'ofess and 
 govern themselves by, would have a juster pretence to re- 
 quire others to follow them : but these are so few in number, 
 and find so little reason to be magisterial in theii* opinions, 
 that nothing insolent and imperious is to be expected from 
 them: and there is reason to think, that, if men wei'e 
 better instructed themselves, they would be less imposing 
 on others. 
 
 5. Prohahility is either of Matter of Fact or Speculation. — 
 But to return to the grounds of assent, and the several de- 
 grees of it, we are to take notice, that the propositions we 
 receive upon inducements of jjrobability are of two sorts ; 
 either concerning some particular existence, or, as it is 
 usually termed, matter of fact, which, falling under obser- 
 vation, is capable of human testimony; or else concerning 
 things, which, being beyond the discovery of our senses, are 
 not capable of any such testimony. 
 
 6. TIte concurrent Exjyerience of all other Men with ours, 
 produces Assurance a/pj^roaching to Knowledge. — Concex'ning 
 the fii'st of these, viz., particular matter of fact. 
 
 First, Where any particular thing, consonant to the con- 
 stant observation of om-selves and others in the like case, 
 comes attested by the concurrent reports of all that mention 
 it, we receive it as easily, and build as firmly upon it, as if 
 it were certain knowledge; and we reason and act there- 
 upon with as little doubt as if it were perfect demonstration. 
 Thus, if all Englishmen who have occasion to mention it, 
 should affirm that it fi-oze in England the last winter, or 
 that there were swallows seen there in the summer, I think 
 a man cotdd almost as little doubt of it as that seven and 
 four are eleven. The first, therefore, and highest degree of 
 probability, is, when the general consent of all men, in all 
 ages, as far as it can be known, concurs with a man's con- 
 stant and never-failing experience in like cases, to confirm 
 the truth of any particular matter of fact attested by fair 
 
 T 2
 
 276 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 witnesses: such are all the stated constitutions and pro- 
 perties of bodies, and the regular proceedings of causes and 
 effects in the ordinary course of nature. This we call an 
 argument from the nature of things themselves. For what 
 GUI' own and other men's constant observation has found 
 always to be after the same manner, that we with reason 
 conclude to be the effect of steady and regular causes, though 
 they come not within the reach of our knowledge. Thus, 
 that fire warmed a man, made lead fluid, and changed the 
 colour or consistency in wood or charcoal; that iron sunk 
 in water, and swam in quicksilver ; these and the like pro- 
 positions about particular facts, being agreeable to our con- 
 stant expei'ience, as often as we have to do with these 
 matters; and being generally si:»oke of (when mentioned by 
 others) as things found constantly to be so, and therefore 
 not so much as controverted by anybody, we are put past 
 doubt that a relation affirming any such thing to have been, 
 or any predication that it will happen again in the same 
 manner, is very true. These probabilities rise so near to 
 certainty, that they govern our thoughts as absolutely, and 
 influence all our actions as fully, as the most evident demon- 
 stration; and in what concerns us we make little or no 
 difierence between them and certain knowledge. Oui' belief, 
 thus grounded, rises to assurance. 
 
 7. Unquestionable Testimony and Experience for tlie most 
 part produce Confidence. — Secondly, The next degree of pro- 
 bability is, when I find by my own experience, and the 
 agreement of all others that mention it, a thing to be for the 
 most part so, and that the particular instance of it is at- 
 tested by many and undoubted witnesses, v. g., history giving 
 us such an account of men in all ages, and my own experience, 
 as far as I had an opportunity to observe, confirming it, that 
 most men prefer their private advantage to the public : if all 
 historians that write of Tiberius, say that Tiberius did so, it 
 is extremely probable. And in this case, our assent has a 
 sufficient foundation to raise itself to a degx'ee which we may 
 call confidence. 
 
 8. Fair Testimony, and the Natnre oftlie Thing indifferent, 
 produce also confident Belief. — Thirdly, In things that happen 
 indifferently, as that a bird should fly this or that way; that 
 it should thunder on a man's right or left hand, &c., when
 
 CHAP. XVI.] T)EGEEES OF ASSENT. 277 
 
 any particular matter of fact is vouched by the concurrent 
 testimony of unsuspected witnesses, there oui' assent is also 
 unavoidable. Thus, that there is such a city in Italy as 
 Rome; that about one thousand seven hundi-ed years ago, 
 there lived in it a man, called Julius Csesai'; that he was a 
 general, and that he won a battle against another, called 
 Pompey : this, though in the nature of the thing there be 
 nothing for nor against it, yet being related by historians of 
 credit, and contradicted by no one writer, a man cannot avoid 
 believing it, and can as little doubt of it as he does of the 
 being and actions of his own acquaintance, whereof he himself 
 is a witness. 
 
 9. Experioice a7id Testwwnies clashing, injinitelij vary tlie 
 Degrees of Prohahility. — Thus far the matter goes easy enough. 
 Probability upon such grounds carries so much evidence with 
 it, that it naturally determines the judgment, and leaves us 
 as little libei'ty to believe or disbelieve, as a demonstration 
 does, whether we will know, or be ignorant. The difficulty 
 is, when testimonies contradict common experience, and the 
 reports of history and witnesses clash with the ordinary 
 course of nature or with one another; there it is, where dili- 
 gence, attention, and exactness are required, to form a right 
 judgment, and to proportion the assent to the different evi- 
 dence and probability of the thing ; which rises and falls, 
 according as those two foundations of credibility, viz., common 
 observation in like cases, and particular testimonies in that 
 particular instance, favour or contradict it. These are liable 
 to so gi'eat variety of contrary observations, circumstances, 
 reports, different qualifications, tempers, designs, oversights, 
 &c., of the reporters, that it is impossible to reduce to precise 
 rules the various degi'ees wherein men give their assent. 
 This only may be said in general, that as the arguments and 
 proofs pro and con, upon due examination, nicely weighing 
 every particular circumstance, shall to any one appear, upon 
 the whole matter in a gi'eater or less degi'ee to preponderate 
 on either side; so they are fitted to produce in the mind 
 such different entertainments, as we call belief, conjecture, 
 guess, doubt, wavering, distimst, disbelief, &c. 
 
 10. Traditional Testimonies, tloe further removed the less 
 their Proof — This is what concerns assent in matters wherein 
 testimony is made use of ; concerning which, I think, it may
 
 278 OF UUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 Bofc be amiss to take notice of a rule observed in the law of 
 England ; which is, that though the attested co^jy of a record 
 be good proof, yet the copy of a copy ever so well attested, 
 and by ever so credible witnesses, will not be admitted as a 
 proof in judicature. This is so generally approved as reason- 
 able, and suited to the wisdom and caution to be used in our 
 inquiiy after material ti'uths, that I never yet heard of any 
 one that blamed it. This practice, if it be allowable in the 
 decisions of right and wrong, carries this observation along 
 with it, viz., that any testimony, the further off it is from 
 the original truth, the less force and proof it has. The being 
 and existence of the thing itself, is what I call the original 
 truth. A credible man vouching his knowledge of it is a 
 good proof; but if another equally credible do witness it 
 from his report, the testimony is weaker; and a thii'd that 
 attests the hearsay of an hearsay is yet less considerable. 
 So that in traditional truths, each remove weakens the force 
 of the proof; and the more hands the tradition has suc- 
 cessively passed through, the less strength and evidence does 
 it receive from them. This I thought necessary to be taken 
 notice of, because I find amongst some men the quite con- 
 trary commonly practised, who look on opinions to gain force 
 by growing older; and what a thousand years since would 
 not to a rational man contemporary with the first voucher 
 have appeared at all probable, is now urged as certain beyond 
 all question, only because several have since from him said it 
 one after another. Upon this ground propositions, evidently 
 false or doubtful enough in their first beginning, come, by 
 an inverted rule of probability, to pass for authentic truths ; 
 and those which found or deserved little credit from the 
 mouths of theii- first authors, are thought to grow venerable 
 by age, and are urged as undeniable. 
 
 11. Yet History is of great Use. — I would not be thought 
 here to lessen the credit and use of history; it is all the 
 light we have in many cases, and we receive from it a great 
 part of the useful truths we have, with a convincing evidence. 
 I think nothing more valuable than the records of antiquity : 
 I wish we had more of them, and more uncorrupted. But 
 this truth itself forces me to say, that no probability can rise 
 higher than its fii-st original. What has no other evidence 
 than the single testimony of one only witness, must stand or
 
 CHAP. XVI.J DEGREES OF ASSENT. 279 
 
 fall by his only testimouy, whether good, bad, or mditferent ; 
 aud though cited afterwards l)y hundreds of othei-s, one after 
 another, is so far from receiving any strength thereby, that 
 it is only the weaker. Passion, interest, inadvertency, 
 mistake of his meaning, aud a thousand odd reasons, or 
 capricios, men's minds are acted by, (impossible to be dis- 
 covered,) may make one man quote another man's words or 
 meaning wrong. He that has but ever so little examined 
 the citations of writers, cannot doubt how little credit the 
 quotations deserve, where the originals are wanting; and 
 consequently how much less quotations of quotations can be 
 relied on. This is certain, that what in one age was affirmed 
 upon slight grounds, can never after come to be more valid in 
 futiu'e ages by being often repeated. But the further still it 
 is fi-om the original, the less valid it is, and has always l&ss 
 force in the mouth or wi'iting of him that last made use of it, 
 than in his from whom he received it. 
 
 12. Tfi Things which Sense cannot discover, Analogy is the 
 great Rule of Prohahility. — The probabilities we have hitherto 
 mentioned are only such as concern matter of fact, and such 
 things as are capable of observation and testimony. There 
 remains that other sort, concerning which men entertain 
 opuiions with variety of assent, though the things be such, 
 that falling not under the reach of our senses, they are not 
 capable of testimony. Such are, 1. The existence, nature, 
 and operations of finite immaterial beings without us; as, 
 spirits, angels, devils, &c., or the existence of material beings ; 
 which, either for their smallness in themselves, or remote- 
 ness from us, our senses cannot take notice of; as, whether 
 there be any plants, animals, and intelligent inhabitants in the 
 planets and other mansions of the vast universe. 2. Concerning 
 the manner of operation in most parts of the works of nature : 
 wherein though we see the sensible effects, yet their causes 
 are unknown, and we perceive not the ways and manner 
 how they are produced. We see animals are generated, 
 nourished, and move; the loadstone draws ii'on; and the 
 parts of a candle, successively melting, turn into flame, and 
 give us both light and heat. These and the like eflfects we 
 see and know : but the causes that operate, and the manner 
 they are produced in, we can only guess and probably con- 
 jecture. For these and the like, coming not within the
 
 280 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [nOOK IV. 
 
 scrutiny of human senses, cannot be examined by them, or 
 be attested by anybody ; and therefore can appear more or 
 less probable, only as they more or less agree to truths that 
 are established in our minds, and as they hold proportion 
 to other parts of om' knowledge and observation. Analogy 
 in these matters is the only help we have, and it is from 
 that alone we draw all our grounds of probability. Thus, 
 observing that the Ijare rubbing of two bodies violently one 
 upon another, produces heat, and very often fire itself, we 
 have reason to think, that what we call heat and fire con- 
 sists in a violent agitation of the imperceptible minute parts 
 of the burning matter ; observing likewise that the difiercnt 
 refractions of pellucid bodies produce in our eyes the dif- 
 ferent appearances of several colours; and also, that the 
 different ranging and laying the superficial pai'ts of several 
 bodies, as of velvet, watered silk, &c., does the like, we think 
 it probable that the colour and shining of bodies is in them 
 nothing but the different arrangement and i-efraction of their 
 minute and insensible j^arts. Thus, finding in all parts of 
 the creation that fall mider human observation, that there 
 is a gradual connexion of one with another, without any 
 great or discernible gaps between, in all that great variety 
 of things we see in the world, which are so closely linked 
 togethei", that, in the several ranks of beings, it is not easy 
 to discover the bounds betwixt them; we have reason to be 
 persuaded that, by such gentle steps, things ascend upwards 
 in degrees of perfection. It is a hard matter to say where 
 , sensible and rational begin, and where insensible and irra- 
 tional end: and who is there quick-sighted enough to de- 
 termine precisely which is the lowest species of living things, 
 and which the first of those which have no life? Things, as 
 far as we can observe, lessen and augment, as the quantity 
 does in a regular cone; where, though there be a manifest 
 odds betwixt the bigness of the diameter at a remote dis- 
 tance, yet the difierence between the U2:)per and under, where 
 they touch one another, is hardly discernible. The difference 
 is exceeding great between some men and some animals; 
 but if we will compare the understanding and abilities of 
 some men and some brutes, we shall find so little difference, 
 that it will be hard to say, that that of the man is either 
 clearer or larger. Observing, I say, such gradual and gentle
 
 CJIAP. XVI.] DEGREES OP ASSENT. 281 
 
 descents downwards in those parts of the creation that are 
 beneath man, the rule of analogy may make it probable, 
 that it is so also in things above us and our observation ; and 
 that there are several ranks of intelligent beings, excelling 
 us in several degrees of perfection, ascending upwards towards 
 the infinite perfection of the Creator, by gentle steps and 
 differences, that are every one at no great distance from the 
 next to it. This sort of probability, which is the best con- 
 duct of rational experiments, and the rise of hypothesis, has 
 also its use and influence ; and a wary reasoning from ana- 
 logy leads us often into the discovery of truths and useful 
 j^roductions, which would otherwise lie concealed. 
 
 13. One Case wliere contrary Experience lessens not the 
 Testimony. — Though the common experience and the ordi- 
 nary course of things have justly a mighty influence on the 
 minds of men, to make them give or refuse credit to any- 
 thing proposed to their belief; yet there is one case, wherein 
 the strangeness of the fact lessens not the assent to a fair 
 testimony given of it. For where such sxipernatural events 
 are suitable to ends aimed at by him who has the power to 
 change the course of nature, there, under such cii'cumstances, 
 they may be the fitter to procure belief, by how much the 
 more they are beyond or contrary to ordinary observation. 
 This is the proper case of miracles, which, well attested, do 
 not only find credit themselves, but give it also to other 
 truths, which need such confirmation.* 
 
 14. Tlie bare Testhnony of Revelation is the highest Cer- 
 tainty. — Besides those we have hitherto mentioned, there 
 is one sort of propositions that challenge the highest degree 
 of our assent upon bai-e testimony, whether the thing pro- 
 posed agree or disagi^ee with common exi^erience, and the 
 ordinary course of things, or no. The reason whereof is, 
 because the testimony is of such an one as cannot deceive nor 
 be deceived, and that is of God himself. This carries with 
 it an assurance beyond doubt, evidence beyond exception. 
 This is called by a peculiar name, revelation ; and our assent 
 to itj faith : which as absolutely determines our minds, and 
 
 * In his discourse on the subject, Locke defines a miracle to be, " A 
 sensible operation, which, beiuij above the com])rchension of the spec- 
 tator, and, in his opinion, contraiy to tlie established course of nature, 
 is taken by him to be divine." (p. 275.) — Ed.
 
 282 OF HUMAN XJ>T)EESTAXDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 as perfectly excludes all wavering, as our knowledge itself; 
 and we may a.s well doubt of our own being, as we can whe- 
 ther any revelation from God be true. So that faith is 
 a settled and sure princii:)le of assent and assurance, and 
 leaves no manner of room for doubt or hesitation. Only 
 we must be sure that it be a divine revelation, and that we 
 understand it right : else we shall expose ourselves to all 
 the extravagancy of enthusiasm, and all the error of wrong 
 principles, if we have faith and assurance in what is not 
 divine revelation. And thei'efore in those cases, our assent 
 can be rationally no higher than the evidence of its being a 
 revelation, and that this is the meaning of the exju-essions 
 it is delivered in. If the evidence of its being a revelation, 
 or that this is its true sense, be only on probable proofs; 
 our assent can reach no higher than an assurance or diffi- 
 dence, arising from the more or less apparent probability 
 of the proofs. But of faith, and the precedency it ought 
 to have before other arguments of persuasion, I shall speak 
 more hereafter; where I treat of it as it is ordinarily placed, 
 in contradistinction to reason ; though in truth it be nothing 
 else but an assent founded on the highest reason. 
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 OF REASON. 
 
 1. Various Significations of tlie Word Reason. — The word 
 reason in the English language has different significations : 
 sometimes it is taken for true and clear principles ; some- 
 times for clear and fair deductions from those principles; 
 and sometimes for the cause, and particularly the final cause. 
 But the consideration I shall have of it here is in a signifi- 
 cation different from all these; and that is, as it stands for 
 a feculty in man, that faculty whereby man is supposed to 
 be distinguished from beasts, and wherein it is evident he 
 much surpasses them. 
 
 2. Wlierein Reasoning consists. — If general knowledge, as 
 has been sho^vn, consists in a perception of the agreement or 
 di^agi-eement of our own ideas, and the knowledge of the 
 existence of all things without us (except only of a God, 
 whose existence every man may certainly know and demon- 
 strate to himself from his own existence) be had only by our
 
 CHAP. XVri.] REASOX. 283 
 
 senses, what room is there for the exercise of any other 
 faculty, but outwai-d sense and inward perception? What 
 need is thei'e of reason"? Yery much: both for the enhirge- 
 ment of our knowledge, and regulating our assent ; for it 
 hath to do both in knowledge and opinion, and is necessary 
 and assisting to all our other intellectual faculties, and indeed 
 contains two of them, viz., sagacity and illation. By the 
 one, it finds out; and by the other, it so orders the intei-- 
 mediate ideas, as to discover what connexion there is in each 
 link of the chain, whereby the extremes are held together; 
 and thereby, as it were, to di-aw into view the trath sought 
 for, which is that which we call illation or inference, and 
 consists in nothing but the perception of the connexion there 
 is between the ideas, in each step of the deduction, whereby 
 the mind comes to see either the certain agreement or dis- 
 agreement of any two ideas, as in demonstration, in which it 
 arrives at knowledge; or their probable connexion, on which 
 it gives or withholds its assent, as in opinion. Sense and 
 intuition reach but a very little way. The greatest part of' 
 our knowledge depends upon deductions and intermediate 
 ideas : and in those cases where we ai-e fain to substitute 
 assent instead of knowledge, and take propositions for true, 
 without being certain they are so, we have need to find out, 
 examine, and compare the grounds of their probability. In 
 both these cases, the faculty which finds out the means, and 
 rightly applies them to discover certainty in the one, and 
 jirobability in the other, is that which we call reason. For 
 as reason perceives the necessaiy and indubitable connexion 
 of all the ideas or proofs one to another, in each step of any 
 demonstration that produces knowledge; so it likewise per- 
 ceives the pi'obable connexion of all the ideas or proofs one 
 to another, in every step of a discoui-se, to which it will think 
 assent due. This is the lowest degi-ee of that which can be 
 truly called reason. For where the mind does not perceive 
 this probable connexion, where it does not discern whether 
 there be any such connexion or no; there men's opinions are 
 not the product of judgment, or the consequence of reason, 
 but the efiects of chance and hazard, of a mind floating at all 
 adventures, without choice and without direction. 
 
 3. Its four Farts. — So that we may in reason consider 
 these four degrees: the first and highest is the discovering
 
 284 OF UUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 and finding out of truths ; the second, the regular and metho- 
 dical disposition of them, and laying them in a clear and fit 
 order, to make their connexion and force be plainly and 
 easily perceived ; the third is the perceiving their connexion ; 
 and the fourth, a making a right conclusion. These several 
 degrees may be observed in any mathematical demonstration ; 
 it being one thing to perceive the connexion of each part, as 
 the demonstration is made by another; another to perceive 
 the dependence of the conclusion on all the parts; a third, to 
 make out a demonstration clearly and neatly one's self; and 
 something different from all these, to have first found out 
 these intermediate ideas or proofs by which it is made. 
 
 4. Syllogism not the great Instrument of Reason. — There is 
 one thing more which I shall desire to be considered concern- 
 ing reason ; and that is, whether syllogism, as is generally 
 thought, be the proper instrument of it, and the usefullest 
 way of exercising this faculty. The causes I have to doubt 
 are these: — 
 
 First, Because syllogism serves our reason but in one only 
 of the forementioned parts of it; and that is, to show the 
 connexion of the proofs in any one instance, and no more; 
 but in this it is of no great use, since the mind can perceive 
 such connexion where it really is, as easily— nay, perhaps 
 better — without it. 
 
 If we will observe the actings of our own minds, we shall 
 find that we reason best and clearest, when we only observe 
 the connexion of the proof, without reducing our thoughts 
 to any rule of syllogism. And therefore we may take notice, 
 that there are many men that reason exceeding clear and 
 rightly, wlio know not how to make a syllogism. He that 
 will look into many parts of Asia and America, will find 
 men reason there perhaps as acutely as himself, who yet 
 never heard of a syllogism, nor can redvice any one argument 
 to those forms: and I believe scarce any one makes syllo- 
 gisms in reasoning within himself Indeed syllogism is 
 made use of on occasion to discover a fallacy liid in a rhe- 
 torical flourish, or cunningly wrapt up in a smooth period; 
 and, stripping an absurdity of the cover of wit and good 
 language, show it in its naked deformity. But the weakness 
 or fallacy of such a loose discourse it shows, by the artificial 
 form it is put into, only to those who have thoroughly studied
 
 CHAP. XVII.] RFASON. 285 
 
 mode and figure, aud have so examined the many ways that 
 three propositions may bo put together, as to know which of 
 them does coi'tainly conchide right, and which not, and ui>on 
 what grounds it is that they do so. All who have so far 
 considered syllogism, as to see the reason why in three pro- 
 positions laid together in one form, the conclusion Avill be 
 certainly right, but in another not certainly so, I grant are 
 certain of the conclusion they draw from the premises in tlie 
 allowed modes and figures. But they who have not so far 
 looked into those forms, are not sure by virtue of syllogism, 
 that the conclusion certainly follows from the premises; they 
 only take it to be so by an implicit faith in their teachers 
 and a confidence in those forms of argumentation ; but this 
 is stiU but believing, not being certain. Now, if, of all man- 
 kind those who can make syllogisms are extremely few in 
 comparison of those who cannot ; and if, of those few who 
 have been taught logic, there is but a very small number 
 who do any more than believe that syllogisms, in the allowed 
 modes and figures do conclude right, without knowing cer- 
 tainly that they do so, if syllogisms must be taken for the 
 only proper instrument of reason and means of knowledge, it 
 will follow, that, before Aristotle, there was not one man 
 that did or coidd know anything by reason; and that, since 
 the invention of syllogisms, there is not one of ten thousand 
 that doth. 
 
 But God has not been so sparing to men to make them 
 barely two-legged creatures, and left it to Aristotle to make 
 them rational, i. e., those few of them that he could get so 
 to examine the grounds of syllogisms, as to see that, in above 
 three score ways, that three propositions may be laid toge- 
 ther, there are but about fourteen wherein one may be sure 
 that the conclusion is right ; and upon what grounds it is, 
 that, in these few, the conclusion is certain, and in the other 
 not. God has been more bountiful to mankind than so. 
 He has given theni a inind that can reason, without being 
 inst iiicted in methods of syllogizing : the understanding Ts 
 not taught to reason by these rales ; it has a native faculty 
 to perceive the coherence or incoherence of its ideas, and can 
 range them right, without any such perplexing repetitions. 
 I say not this any way to lessen Aristotle, whom 1 look on 
 as one of the greatest men amongst the ancients ; whose
 
 286 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 large views, aciiteness, and penetration of thonght and strength 
 of j udgmeut, few have equalled ; and who, in this very in- 
 vention of forms of argumentation, wherein the conclusion 
 may be shown to be rightly inferred, did great service 
 against those who were not ashamed to deny anything. And 
 I readily own, that all right reasoning may be reduced to 
 his forms of syllogism. But yet I think, without any dimi- 
 nution to him, I may truly say, that they are not the only, 
 nor the best way of reasoning, for the leading of those into 
 truth who are willing to find it, and desire to make the best 
 use they may of their reason, for the attainment of know- 
 ledge. And he himself, it is plain, found out some forms to 
 be conclusive, and others not, not by the forms themselves, 
 but by the original way of knowledge, i. e., by the visible 
 agreement of ideas. Tell a country gentlewoman that the 
 wind is south-west, and the weather lowering, and like to 
 rain, and she will easily understand it is not safe for her to 
 go abroad thin clad in such a day, after a fever; she clearly 
 sees the probable connexion of all these, viz., south-west 
 wind, and clouds, rain, wetting, taking cold, relapse, and 
 danger of death, without tying them together in those arti- 
 ficial and cumbersome fetters of several syllogisms, that clog 
 and hinder the mind, which proceeds from one part to an- 
 other quicker and clearer without them ; and the probability 
 which she easily perceives in things thus in their native 
 state would be quite lost, if this argument were managed 
 learnedly and proposed in mode and figure. For it very 
 often confounds the connexion; and, I think, every one will 
 perceive in mathematical demonstrations, that the know- 
 ledge gained thereby comes shortest and clearest Avithout 
 syllogisms. 
 
 Inference is looked on as the gi-eat act of the rational 
 feculty, and so it is when it is rightly made ; but the mind, 
 either very desirous to enlarge its knowledge, or very apt to 
 favour the sentiments it has once imbibed, is very forward to 
 make inferences, and therefore often makes too much haste, 
 Ijefore it perceives the connexion of the ideas that must 
 hold the extremes together. 
 
 To infer, is nothing but by virtue of one proposition laid 
 down as true, to draw in another as true, i. e., to see or sup- 
 pose such a connexion of the two ideas of the inferred propo-
 
 CHAP. XVII.] REASON. 287 
 
 sition : v. g., let this be the proposition laid clown, " Men 
 shall be punished in another world," and from thence be in- 
 ferred this other, " Then men can determine themselves." 
 The question now is, to know whether the mind has made 
 this inference right or no; if it has made it by finding out 
 the intermediate ideas, and taking a view of the connexion 
 of them, placed in a due order, it has proceeded rationally, 
 and made a right inference. If it has done it without such 
 a view, it has not so much made an inference that will hold, 
 or an inference of right reason, as shown a willingness to 
 have it be, or be taken for such. But in neither case is it 
 syllogism that discovered those ideas, or showed the con- 
 nexion of them, for they must be both found out, and the 
 connexion everywhere perceived, before they can rationally 
 be made use of in syllogism; unless it can be said, that any 
 idea, without considering what connexion it hath with the 
 two other, whose agreement should be shown by it, will do 
 well enough in a syllogism, and may be taken at a venture 
 for the medius terminus, to prove any conclusion. But this 
 nobody will say, because it is by virtue of the perceived 
 agreement of the intermediate idea with the extremes, that 
 the extremes ai'e concluded to agree; and therefore each 
 intermediate idea must be such as in the whole chain hath a 
 visible connexion with those two it has been placed between, 
 or else thereby the conclusion cannot be inferred or drawn 
 in : for wherever any link of the chain is loose and without 
 connexion, there the whole strength of it is lost, and it hath 
 no force to infer or draw in anything. In the instance above 
 mentioned, what is it shows the force of the inference, and 
 consequently the reasonableness of it, but a view of the 
 connexion of all the intermediate ideas that draw in the 
 conclusion or proposition inferred? v. g., '-Men shall be 
 punished;" ''God the punisher;" "Just punishment;"' "The 
 punished guilty;" " Could have done otherwise;" " Freedom;" 
 "Self-determination;" by which chain of ideas thus visibly 
 linked together in train, i. e., each intermediate idea agreeing 
 on each side with those two it is immediately placed between, 
 the ideas of men and self-determination appear to be con- 
 nected, i. e., this proposition men can determine themselves is 
 drawn in or inferred from this, that they shall be punished in 
 the other world. For here the mind seeing the comiexion
 
 288 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 thei-e is between the idea of men's punishment in the other 
 world and the idea of God punishing; between God punish- 
 ing and the justice of the punishment; between justice of 
 the punishment and guilt; between guilt and a power to do 
 otherwise; between a power to do otherwise and freedom; 
 and between freedom and self-determination, sees the con- 
 nexion between men and self-determination. 
 
 Now I ask, whether the connexion of the extremes be not 
 more clearly seen in this simple and natural disposition, than 
 in the perplexed repetitions, and jumble of five or six syllo- 
 gisms.'" I must beg pardon for calling it jumble, till some- 
 body shall put these ideas into so many syllogisms, and then 
 say that they are less jumbled, and their connexion more 
 visible, when they are transposed and re])eated, and spun out 
 to a greater length in artificial forms, than in that shoi-t and 
 natural plain order they are laid down in here, wherein 
 everyone may see it, and wherein they must be seen before 
 they can be put into a train of syllogisms. For the natural 
 order of the connecting ideas must direct the order of the 
 syllogisms, and a man must see the connexion of each inter- 
 mediate idea with those that it connects, before he can with 
 reason make use of it in a syllogism. And when all those 
 syllogisms are made, neither those that are nor those that are 
 
 * In my appendix to the Reasonableness of Christianity, I have on 
 this subject made the following remark : — "Between the publication of 
 the several editions of the "Essay on the Human Understanding," 
 which appeared during his lifetime, Locke changed his opinion on more 
 than one point, and, like an honest and independent thinker, he was 
 always careful to acknowledge this change. This, among other things, 
 was the case with the use of syllogisms. For in Book IV. ch. 17, "I 
 grant,"' says he, " that mood and figure is commonly made use of in 
 such cases, (in the discovery of fallacies, ) as if the detection of the inco- 
 herence of such loose discourses were wholly owing to the syllogistical 
 form ; and so I myself formerly thought, till upon a stricter examina- 
 tion I now find, that laying the intermediate ideas naked, in their due 
 order, shows the incoherence of the argumentation better than syllo- 
 gism." His opinions, however, on this point were fluctuating; for in 
 his "Second Vindication," speaking of the fallacies and incoherence of 
 his antagonist, he has these words : — "Nay, if he or anybody, in the 
 112 pages of his ' Socinianism Unmasked,' can find but ten arguments 
 that will bear the test of syllofjism, the true touchstone of right arguitig, I 
 will grant that that treatise deserves all those commendations be has be- 
 stowed upon it ; though it be made up more of his own panegyric than 
 a confutation of me," (p. 239.) — Ed.
 
 CHAP. XVII.] REASON. 289 
 
 not logicians will see the force of the argumentation, i.e., the 
 connexion of the extremes, one jot the better. [For those 
 that are not men of art, not knowing the true forms of syllo- 
 gism, nor the reasons of them, cannot know whether they 
 are made in right and conclusive modes and figures or no, 
 and so are not at all helped by the forms they are put into ; 
 though by them the natural order, wherein the mind could 
 judge of their respective connexion, being disturbed, renders 
 the illation much more uncertain than without them.] And 
 as for the logicians themselves, they see the connexion of 
 each intermediate idea with those it stands between, (on 
 which the force of the inference depends,) as well before as 
 after the syllogism is made, or else they do not see it at all. 
 For a syllogism neither shows nor strengthens the connexion 
 of any two ideas immediately put together, but only by the 
 connexion seen in them shows what connexion the extremes 
 have one with another. But what connexion the inter- 
 mediate has with either of the extremes in the syllogism, that 
 no syllogism does or can show. That the mind only doth or 
 can perceive as they stand there in that juxta-position only 
 by its own view, to which the sylloglstical form it happens 
 to be in gives no help or light at all ; it only shows that if 
 the intermediate idea agi-ees with those it is on both sides 
 immediately applied to; then those two remote ones, or, as 
 they are called, extremes, do certainly agree, and therefore 
 the immediate connexion of each idea to that which it is 
 applied .to on each side, on which the force of the reasoning 
 depends, is as well seen before as after the syllogism is made, 
 or else he that makes the syllogism could never see it at all. 
 This, as has been already observed, is seen only by the eye, 
 or the perceptive faculty of the mind, taking a view of them 
 laid together, in a juxta-position; which view of any two it 
 has equally, whenever they are laid together in any propo- 
 sition, whether that proposition be placed as a major or a 
 minor, in a syllogism or no. 
 
 Of what use, then, are syllogisms? I answer, their chief 
 and main use is in the schools, where men are allowed with- 
 out sliame to deny the agreement of ideas that do mani- 
 festly agree; or out of the schools, to those who from thence 
 have learned without shame to deny the connexion of ideas, 
 which even to themseh'es is visible. But to an ingenuous 
 
 VOL. II. u
 
 290 OF HUMAN UNDEKSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 searcher after truth, who has no other aim but to find it, 
 there is no need of any such form to force the allowing of 
 the inference : the truth and reasonableness of it is better 
 seen in ranging of the ideas in a simple and plain order; 
 and hence it is that men, in their own inquiries after tiiith, 
 never use syllogisms to convince themselves [or in teaching 
 othex's to instruct willing learners.] Because, before they 
 can put them into a syllogism, they must see the connexion 
 that is between the intermediate idea and the two other ideas 
 it is set between and applied to, to show their agreement; 
 and when they see that, they see whether the inference be 
 good or no, and so syllogism comes too late to settle it. For 
 to make use again of tha former instance, I ask whether the 
 mind, considering the idea of justice, placed as an inter- 
 mediate idea between the punishment of men and the guilt 
 of the punished, (and till it does so consider it, the mind 
 cannot make use of it as a medius terminus,) does not as 
 plainly see the force and strength of the inference as when 
 it is formed into a syllogism. To show it in a very ]3lain 
 and easy example ; let animal be the intermediate idea or 
 medius terminus that the mind makes use of to show the 
 connexion of homo and vivens; I ask whether the mind 
 does not more readily and plainly see that connexion in the 
 simple and proper position of the connnecting idea in the 
 middle? thus: 
 
 Homo Animal Vivens, 
 
 than in this perplexed one, — 
 
 Animal Vivens Homo Animal: 
 
 which is the position these ideas have in a syllogism, to show 
 the connexion between homo and vivens by the interven- 
 tion of animal. 
 
 Indeed syllogism is thought to be of necessary use, even to 
 the lovers of truth, to show them the fallacies that are often 
 concealed in florid, witty, or involved discourses. But that 
 this is a mistake will appear, if we consider, that the reason 
 why sometimes men who sincerely aim at truth are imposed 
 upon by such loose, and, as they are called, rhetorical dis- 
 courses, is, that their fancies being struck with some lively 
 metaphorical representations, they neglect to observe, or do 
 not easily perceive what are the true ideas upon which the 

 
 CHAP. XVII. J REASON. 291 
 
 inference depends. Now, to show sucli men the weakness 
 of such an argumentation, there needs no more but to strip 
 it of the superfluous ideas, which, blended and confounded 
 with those on which the inference de])ends, seem to show a 
 connexion whei'e there is none; or at k^ast to hinder the 
 diiicovery of the want of it; and then to hiy the naked ideas 
 on which the force of the argumentation depends in their due 
 order, in which position the mind, taldng a view of them, 
 sees what connexion they have, and so is able to judge of 
 the inference without any need of a syllogism at all. 
 
 I grant that mode and figure is commonly made use of in 
 such cases, as if the detection of the incoherence of such 
 loose discourses were wholly owing to the syllogistical form ; 
 and so I myself formerly thought, till upon a stricter exam- 
 ination I now find, that, laying the intermediate ideas 
 naked in their due ordei-, shows the incoherence of the 
 argumentation better than syllogism; not only as subjecting 
 each link of the chain to the immediate view of the mind 
 in its proper place, whereby its connexion is best observed ; 
 but also because syllogism shows the incoherence only to 
 those (who are not one of ten thousand) who perfectly under- 
 stand mode and figure, and the reason upon which those 
 forms are established; whereas a due and orderly placing of 
 the ideas upon which the inference is made, makes every 
 one, whether logician or not logician, who understands the 
 terms, and hath the faculty to perceive the agreement or 
 disagreement of such ideas, (without which, in or out of 
 syllogism, he cannot perceive the strength or weakness, 
 coherence or incoherence of the discourse) see the want of 
 connexion in the argumentation, and the absurdity of the 
 inference. 
 
 And thus I have known a man unskilful in syllogism, 
 who at first hearing could perceive the weakness and incon- 
 clusiveness of a long artificial and plausible discourse, where- 
 with others better skilled in syllogism have been misled: 
 and I believe there are few of my readers who do not know 
 such. And indeed, if it were not so, the debates of most 
 princes' coimcils, and the business of assemblies, would be in 
 danger to be mismanaged, since those who are relied ui)on, 
 and have usually a gi-eat stroke in theih, are not always 
 such who have the good luck to be perfectly knowing in the 
 
 u 2
 
 2D 2 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [BOOK IV, 
 
 forms of syllogism, or expert in mode and figure. And if 
 syllogism were the only, or so much as the sui-est way to 
 detect the fallacies of ai-tificial discourses; I do not think 
 that all mankind, even princes in matters that concern their 
 crowns and dignities, are so much in love with falsehood and 
 mistake, that they would everywhere have neglected to 
 bring syllogism into the debates of moment; or thought it 
 ridiculous so much as to offer them in affairs of consequence; 
 a plain evidence to me, that men of parts and penetration, 
 who Avere not idly to dispute at their ease, but were to act 
 according to the result' of their debates, and often pay for 
 their mistakes with their heads or fortunes, found those 
 scholastic forms were of little use to discover truth or fallacy, 
 Avhilst both the one and the other might be shown, and 
 better shown without them, to those who would not refuse 
 to see what was visibly shown them. 
 
 Secondly, Another reason that makes me doubt whether 
 syllogism be the only proper instrument of reason in the 
 discovery of truth, is, that of whatever use, mode, and figure, 
 is pretended to be in the laying open of fallacy, (which has 
 been above considered,) those scholastic forms of discourse 
 are not less liable to fallacies than the plainer ways of argu- 
 mentation ; and for this I appeal to common observation, 
 which has always found these artificial methods of reasoning 
 more adapted to catch and entangle the mind, than to 
 instruct and inform the imderstanding. And hence it is 
 that men, even when they are baflled and silenced in this 
 scholastic way, are seldom or never convinced, and so brought 
 over to the conquering side : they perhaps acknowledge 
 theii- adversary to be the more skilful disputant, but rest 
 nevertheless persuaded of the truth on their side, and go 
 away worsted as they are, with the same opinion they 
 brought with them, which they could not do if this way of 
 argumentation carried light and conviction with it, and 
 made men see where the ti'uth lay; and therefore syllogism 
 has been thought more proper for the attaining victory in 
 dispute, than for the discovery or confirmation of truth in 
 fair inquiries. And if it be certain, that fallacies can be 
 couched in syllogism, as it cannot be denied; it must be 
 something else, and not syllogism, that must discover them. 
 I have had experience how ready some men are, when all
 
 CHAP. XVII.") REASON. 293 
 
 the use which they have been wont to ascribe to anythin<; is 
 not allowed, to cry out, tliat I am for laying it wholly aside. 
 But to prevent such unjust and groundless imputations, I 
 tell them, that I am not for taking away any helps to tlie 
 underetanding in the attainment of knowledge. And if men 
 skilled in and used to syllogisms, find them assisting to their 
 reason in the discoveiy of truth, I tliink they ought to 
 rnake use of them. All that I aim at, is, that they should 
 not ascribe moi-e to these forms than belongs to them, and 
 think that men have no use, or not so full an use of their 
 reasoning faculties without them. Some eyes want spectacles 
 to see things clearly and distinctly ; but let not those that 
 use them therefore say nobody can see clearly without 
 them : those who do so will be thought in favour of art, 
 (which, perhaps, they are beholden to,) a little too much to 
 depress and discredit nature. Reason, by its own penetra- 
 tion, where it is strong and exex'cised, usually sees quicker 
 and clearer without syllogism. If use of those spectacles has 
 so dimmed its sight, that it cannot without them see conse- 
 quences or inconsequences in ai'gumentation, I am not so 
 unreasonable as to be against the using them. Every one 
 knows what best fits his own sight; but let him not thence 
 conclude all in the dark, who use not just the same helps 
 that he finds a need of.* 
 
 5. Helps little in Demonstration, less in Frohahility . — But 
 however it be in knowledge, I think I may truly say, it is of 
 far less, or no use at all in probabilities. For the assent 
 there being to be determined by the preponderancy, after 
 due weighing of all the proofs, with all circumstances on both 
 sides, nothing is so unfit to assist the mind in that as syllo- 
 gism ; which, running away with one assumed probability, 
 or one topical argument, pursues that till it has led the 
 mind quite out of sight of the thing under consideration; 
 and, forcing it upon some remote difficulty, holds it fast 
 there, entangled, perhaps, as it were, manacled, in the chain 
 of syllogisms, without allowing it the libeiiiy, much less 
 afibrding it the helps, requisite to show on which side, all 
 things considered, is the greater probability, 
 
 * On the subject of syllogism, see the smaller "Logic" of Christian 
 Wolf, c. vi. p. 74, where it is perhaps treated of more satisfactorily than 
 by any other modern writer. — Ed.
 
 294 OF IIUM^Of UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 G. Sei'ves not to increase our Knowledge, hut fence with it. — 
 But let it help us (as perhaps may be said) in convincing 
 men of their errors and mistakes, (and yet I would fain see 
 the man that was forced out of his opinion by dint of syllo- 
 gism,) yet still it fails our reason in that part, which, if not 
 its highest perfection, is yet certainly its hardest task, and 
 that which we most need its help in : and that is the finding 
 out of proofs, and making new discoveries. The rules of 
 syllogism serve not to furnish the mind with those inter- 
 mediate ideas that may show the connexion of remote ones. 
 Tliis way of reasoning discovers no new proofs, but is the 
 art of marshalling and ranging the old ones we have already. 
 The forty-seventh proposition of the first book of Euclid is 
 very true ; but the discovery of it, I think, not owing to any 
 rules of common logic. A man knows first, and then he is 
 able to prove syllogistically ; so that syllogism comes after 
 knowledge, and then a man has little or no need of it. 
 But it is chiefly by the finding out those ideas that show 
 the connexion of distant ones, that our stock of knowledge 
 is increased, and that viseful arts and sciences are advanced. 
 Syllogism, at best, is but the art of fencing with the little 
 knowledge we have, without making any addition to it ; and 
 if a man should employ his reason all this way, he will not 
 do much other^Adse than he who, having got some iron out 
 of the bowels of the earth, should have it beaten up all into 
 swords, and put it into his servants' hands to fence with 
 and bang one another. Had the King of Spain employed 
 the hands of his people, and his Spanish ii'on so, he had 
 brought to light but little of that treasui-e that lay so long hid 
 in the entrails of America. And I am apt to think, that he 
 who shall employ all the force of his reason only in brandish- 
 ing of syllogisms, will discover very little of that mass of 
 knowledge which lies yet concealed in the secret recesses of 
 nature, and which, I am apt to think, native rustic reason 
 (as it formerly has done) is likelier to open a way to, and 
 add to the common stock of mankind, rather than any 
 scholastic proceeding by the strict rule of mode and figure. 
 
 7. Other Helps should he sought. — I doubt not, nevertheless, 
 but there are ways to be found to assist our reason in this 
 most useful pai-t ; and tliis the judicious Hooker encou- 
 rages me to say, who in his Eccl. Pol. 1. i. § 6, speaks thus :
 
 CHAP. XVII.] REASON. 29 J 
 
 " If there might be added the right helps of true art aiid 
 learning, (which helps, I must plainly confess, this age of the 
 world, carrying the name of a learned age, doth neither 
 much know nor generally regard,) there wonld undoubtedly 
 be almost as much ditierence in maturity of judgment be- 
 tween men therewith inured, and that which men now are, 
 as between men that ai'e now, and innocents."* I do not 
 pretend to have found or discovered here any of those right 
 helps of art, this gi-eat man of deep thought mentions; but 
 this is plain, that syllogism, and the logic now in use, which 
 were as well known in his days, can be none of those he 
 means. It is sufficient for me, if by a discourse, perhaps 
 something out of the way, I am sure, as to me, wholly 
 new and unboiTOwed, I shall have given occasion to others 
 to cast about for new discoveries, and to seek in their own 
 thoughts for those right helps of art, which will scarce be 
 foimd, I fear, by those who servilely confine themselves to 
 the rules and dictates of others. For beaten ti'acks lead this 
 sort of cattle, (as an observing Roman calls them,) whose 
 thoughts reach only to imitation, " non quo eundum est, sed 
 quo itur." But I can be bold to say, that tliis age is adorned 
 with some men of that strength of judgment and largeness 
 of comprehension, that, if they would employ their thoughts 
 on this subject, could open new and imdiscovered ways to 
 the advancement of knowledge. 
 
 8. We reason about Particulars. — Having here had an 
 occasion to speak of syllogism in general, and the i;se of it in 
 reasoning, and the improvement of our knowledge, it is fit, 
 before I leave this subject, to take notice of one manifest mis- 
 take in the rules of syllogism, viz., thatj;o syllogistical reason- 
 ing can be _X"ight and^iSQncliisixe, but what has at least one 
 general proposition in it. As if we could not reason, and have 
 knowledge about pai-ticulars ; whereas, in truth, the matter 
 rightly considered, the immediate object of all our reasoning 
 and knowledge, is nothing but particulars. Every man's rea- 
 soning and knowledge is only about the ideas existing in his 
 oiiZJajmind, which are truly, everyone of them, particidar exist- 
 
 * Plato has a similar idea in speaking of Isocrates : — " wart ovSev uv 
 ykvoiTO ^avfiaoTov TTpoiovarjg rijg j/\tKiae ti Trtpl abrovq rt tovq 
 \6yovQ, olf %'vv tTTtxiipti, TrXfoi' ri TraiSiov ^itvtyKoi twv TTwTrors 
 ai\/u}i'ivinv, Xoyoiv, 'in rt ei aiWifi fit) cnroxpi'icfai Tuvra, tirl fiti^uj ci 
 Tig avTov iiyoi op^i) OuoTipa." (Plucdrus, t. I. p. 105 seq. Bekk ) — En
 
 296 OF HUMAN U>'DERSTANDIXG, [boOK IV. 
 
 ences ; and our knowledge and reason about other things, is 
 only as they correspond with those of oiu- particular id_eas. So 
 that the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our 
 particular ideas, is the whole and utmost of all our know- 
 ledge. Universality is but accidental to it, and consists only 
 in this, that the particular ideas about which it is, are such 
 as more than one particular thing can correspond with and 
 be represented by. But the perception of the agi-eement or 
 disagreement of any two ideas, and consequently our know- 
 ledge, is equally clear and certain, whether either, or both, or 
 neither of those ideas, be capable of representing more real 
 beings than one or no. One thing ^nore I crave leave to 
 offer about syllogism, before I leave it, viz., may one not 
 upon just ground inquire whether the form syllogism now 
 has, is that which in reason it ought to have? For the 
 medius terminus being to join the extremes, i. e., the inter- 
 mediate idea by its intervention, to show the agreement or 
 diagreement of the two in question, would not the position 
 of the medius terminus be more natural, and show the agree- 
 ment or disagreement of the extremes clearer and better, if 
 it were placed in the middle between them? Which might 
 be easily done by transjjosing the propositions, and making 
 the medius terminus the pi-edicate of the fii-st, and the sub- 
 ject of the second. As thus: 
 
 " Omnis homo est animal. Omne animal est vivens. Ergo, 
 omnis homo est vivens. 
 
 " Omne corpus est extensum et solidum. Nullum ex- 
 "tensum et solidum est pura extensio. Ergo, corjjus non est 
 pura extensio." 
 
 I need not trouble my reader with instances in syllogisms 
 whose conclusions are particular. The same reason holds for 
 the same form in them, as well as in the general. 
 
 9. First, Reason fails us for Want of Ideas. — Reason, though 
 it penetrates into the depths of the sea and earth, elevates 
 our thoughts as high as the stars, and leads us through the 
 vast spaces and large rooms of this mighty fabric, yet it 
 comes far short of the real extent of even corporeal being; 
 and there are many instances wherein it fails us : as. 
 
 First, It perfectly fails us, where our ideas fail. — It neither 
 does nor can extend itself further than they do; and there- 
 fore, wherever we have no ideas, our reasoning stops, and we
 
 CHAP, xvil] reason. 297 
 
 are at an end of our reckoning; and if at any time we 
 reason about words which do not stand for any ideas, it is 
 only about those sounds, and nothing else. 
 
 10. Secondly, Because of obscure and imperfect Ideas. — 
 II. Our reason is often puzzled and at a loss, because of the 
 ob.scurity, confusion, or imperfection of the ideas it is em- 
 ployed about; and there we are involved in difficulties and 
 contradictions. Thus, not having any perfect idea of the 
 least extension of matter, nor of infinity, we are at a loss 
 about the divisibility of matter; but having perfect, clear, 
 and distinct ideas of number, oiu* reason meets with none of 
 those inextricable difficulties in numbers, nor finds itself in- 
 volved in any contradictions about them. Thus, we having 
 but imperfect ideas of the operations of our minds, and of 
 the beginning of motion, or thought, how the mind pro- 
 duces either of them in us, and much imperfecter yet of 
 the operation of God, run into great difficulties about free 
 created agents, which reason cannot well extricate itself 
 out of. 
 
 11. Thirdly, For Want of Intennedia^ Ideas. — III. Our 
 reason is often at a stand, because it perceives not those 
 ideas, which could serve to show the certain or probable 
 agreement or disagreement of any other two ideas; and in 
 this some men's faculties far outgo others. Till algebra, 
 that great instrument and instance of human sagacity, was 
 discovered, men with amazement looked on several of the 
 demonstrations of ancient mathematicians, and could scarce 
 forbear to think the finding several of those proofs to be 
 something more than human. 
 
 12. Fourthly, Because of wrong Princijules. — IV. The 
 mind, by proceeding upon false principles, is often engaged 
 in absurdities and difficulties, brought into straits and con- 
 tradictions, without knowing how to free itself ; and in that 
 case it is in vain to implore the help of reason, unless it be 
 to discover the falsehood and reject the influence of thos*^ 
 wrong principles. Reason is so far from clearing the dif- 
 ficulties which the building upon false foundations brings a 
 man into, that if he will pursue it, it entangles him the more, 
 and engages him deeper in perplexities. 
 
 13. Fifthly, Because of doubtfd Terms. — V. As obscure 
 and imperfect ideas often involve our reason, so, upon the
 
 298 OF HUMAN UNDEKSTA^TJING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 same ground, do dubious words and uncertain signs often in 
 discourses and arguings, when not warily attended to, puzzle 
 men's reason, and bring them to a nonplus. But these two 
 latter are our fault, and not the fault of reason. But yet 
 the consequences of them are nevertheless obvious; and the 
 perplexities or errors they fill men's minds with are every- 
 where observable. 
 
 14. Our higJiest Degrees of Knoioledge is intuitive, loitlwut 
 Reasoning. — Some of the ideas that are in the mind, are so 
 there, that they can be by themselves immediately compared 
 one with another ; and in these the mind is able to perceive 
 that they agree or disagree as clearly as that it has them. 
 Thus the mind perceives, that an arch of a circle is less than 
 the whole circle, as clearly as it does the idea of a circle,; 
 and this, therefore, as has been said, I call intuitive know- 
 ledge ; which is certain, beyond all doubt, and needs no 
 probation, nor can have any, this being the highest of all 
 human certainty. In this consists the evidence of all those 
 maxims which nobody has any doubt about, but every man 
 (does not, as is said, only assent to, but) knows to be true, 
 as soon as ever they are proposed to his understanding. In 
 the discovery of and assent to these truths, there is no use 
 of the discursive faculty, no need of reasoning, but they are 
 known by a superior and higher degree of evidence. And 
 such, if I may guess at things unknown, I am apt to think 
 that angels have now, and the spirits of just men made 
 perfect shall have in a future state, of thousands of things 
 which now either wholly escape our apprehensions, or which 
 our short-sighted reason having got some faint glimpse of, 
 we, in the dark, grope after. 
 
 15. The next is Demonstration hy Reasoning. — But though 
 we have, here and there, a little of this clear light, some 
 sparks of bright knowledge, yet the greatest part of our ideas 
 are such, that we cannot discern their agreement or disagree- 
 ment by an immediate comparing them. And in all these 
 we have need of reasoning, and must, by discourse and in- 
 ference, make our discoveries. Now of these there are two 
 sorts, which I shall take the liberty to mention here again. 
 
 First, Those whose agreement or disagreement, though it 
 cannot be seen by an immediate putting them together, yet 
 may be examined by the intervention of other ideas which
 
 CHAP. XVir.] EEASOX. 299 
 
 can be compai-ed with them. In this case, when the agree- 
 ment or disagreement of the intermediate idea, on both sides 
 with those which we would comjjare, is plainly discerned, 
 there it amounts to a demonstration, whereby knowledge is 
 produced ; which, though it be certain, yet it is not so easy, 
 nor altogether so clear as intuitive knowledge. Because in 
 that there is barely one simple intuition, wherein there is no 
 room for any the least mistake or doubt ; the truth is seen 
 all perfectly at once. In demonstration, it is true, there is 
 intuition too, but not altogether at once ; for there must be 
 a remembrance of the intuition of the agi-eement of the 
 medium, or intermediate idea, with that we compared it with 
 before, when we compare it with the other ; and where there 
 be many mediums, there the danger of the mistake is the 
 greater. For each agi-eement or disagreement of the ideas 
 must be observed and seen in each step of the whole train, 
 and retained in the memory, just as it is; and the mind 
 must be sure that no part of what is necessary to make up 
 the demonstration is omitted or overlooked. This makes 
 some demonstrations long and perjjlexed, and too hard for 
 those who have not strength of parts distinctly to perceive, 
 and exactly carry so many particulars orderly in their heads. 
 And even those who are able to master such intricate specu- 
 lations, are fain sometimes to go over them again, and there 
 is need of more than one review before they can arrive at 
 certainty. But yet where the mind clearly retains the in- 
 tuition it had of the agreement of any idea with another, 
 and that with a third, and that with a fourth, &c., there the 
 agreement of the first and the fourth is a demonsti-ation, 
 and produces certain knowledge, which may be called rational 
 knowledge, as the other is intuitive. 
 
 16. To supply the Narrowness of this, we have Nothing hut 
 Judgment ujwti 2yrobable Reasoning. — Secondly, There are 
 other ideas, whose agreement or disagreement can no other- 
 wise be judged of, but by the intei-veution of others which 
 have not a certain agreement with the extremes, but an 
 usual or likely one: and in these it is that the judgment is 
 properly exercised, which is the acquiescing of the mind, 
 that any ideas do agree, by comparing them with such pro- 
 bable mediums. This, though it never amounts to know- 
 ledge, no, not to that which is the lowest degree of it; yet
 
 300 OF HUMAN tJNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 sometimes the intermediate ideas tie the extremes so firmly- 
 together, and the probability is so clear and strong, that 
 assent as necessarily follows it, as knowledge does demon- 
 stration. The great excellency and use of the judgment is 
 to observe right, and take a true estimate of the force and 
 weight of each probability ; and then casting them up all 
 right together, choose that side which has the overbalance. 
 
 17. Intuition, Demonstration, Judgment. — Intuitive know- 
 ledge is the perception of the certain agi-eement or disagree- 
 ment of two ideas immediately compared together. 
 
 Rational knowledge is the perception of the certain agi-ee- 
 ment or disagreement of any two ideas, by the intervention 
 of one or more other ideas. 
 
 Judgment is the thinking or taking two ideas to agree or 
 disagi'ee, by the intervention of one or more ideas, whose 
 certain agreement or disagi-eement with them it does not 
 perceive, but hath observed to be frequent and usual. 
 
 18. Consequences of Words, and Consequences of Ideas. — 
 Though the deducing one proposition from another, oi'. making 
 inferences in words, be a great part of reason, and that which 
 it is usually employed about ; yet the principal act of ratioci- 
 nation is the finding the agreement or disagreement of two 
 ideas one with another, by the intervention of a third. As 
 a man, by a yard, finds two houses to be of the same length, 
 which could not be brought together to measure their equality 
 by juxta-position. Words have their consequences, as the 
 signs of such ideas ; and things agree or disagree, as really 
 they are; but we observe it only by our ideas. 
 
 19. Foiir Sorts of Arguments. — Before we quit this subject, 
 it may be worth our wlaile a little to reflect on four sorts of 
 arguments, that men, in their reasonings with others, do ordi- 
 narily make use of to prevail on their assent ; or at least so 
 to awe them as to silence their opposition. 
 
 1. Ad verecundiam. — First, The first is to allege the 
 opinions of men, whose parts, learning, eminency, power, or 
 some other cause has gained a name, and settled their reputa- 
 tion in the common esteem with some kind of authority. 
 When men are established in any kind of dignity, it is 
 thought a breach of modesty for others to derogate any way 
 from it, and question the authority of men who are in pos- 
 session of it. This is apt to be censured, as carrying with it
 
 CHAP. XVII.] REASON. 301 
 
 too much pride, when a man does not readily yield to tlie 
 determination of approved authors, which is wont to be 
 received with respect and submission by others; and it is 
 looked upon as insolence for a man to set up and adhere to 
 his own opinion against the ciu'rent stream of antiquity; or 
 to put it in the balance against that of some learned doctor, 
 or otherwise appi-oved wi-iter. Whoever backs his tenets 
 with such authorities, thinks he ought thereby to carry the 
 cause, and is ready to style it impudence in any one who 
 shall stand ovit against them. This I think may be called 
 argumentum ad verecundiam. 
 
 20. II. Ad Ignorantiam. — Secondly, Another way that 
 men ordinarily use to drive others, and force them to submit 
 their judgments, and receive the opinion in debate, is to 
 require the adversary to admit what they allege as a proof, 
 or to assign a better. And this I call argumentum ad ig- 
 norantiam. 
 
 21. III. Adhominem. — Thirdly, A third way is to press 
 a man with consequences drawn from his own principles or 
 concessions. This is already known under the name of ar- 
 gumentum ad hominem. 
 
 22. IV. Fourthly, Ad judiciwm. — The fourth is the using 
 of proofs drawn from any of the foundations of knowledge 
 or probability. This I call argumentum ad judicium. This 
 alone, of all the four, brings true instruction with it, and 
 advances us in our way to knowledge. For, 1. It argues 
 not another man's opinion to be right, because I, out of 
 respect, or any other consideration but that of conviction, 
 will not contradict him. 2. It proves not another man to 
 be in the right way, nor that I ought to take the same -svith 
 him, because I know not a better. 3. Nor does it follow 
 that another man is in the right way, because he has shown 
 me that I am in the wrong. I may be modest, and there- 
 fore not oppose another man's persuasion : I may be ignorant, 
 and not be able to produce a better; I may be in an error, 
 and another may show me that I am so. This may dispose 
 me, perhaps, for the reception of truth, but helps me not to 
 it; that must come from proofs and arguments, and light 
 arising from the nature of things themselves, and not from 
 my shame-facedness, ignorance, or error. 
 
 23. Above, contra/ry, and according to Reason. — By what
 
 302 OF HUM.^ UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 has been before said of reason, we may be able to make 
 some guess at the distinction of things, into those that are 
 according to, above, and contrary to reason. l._According 
 to reaso n are such propositions whose truth wejean_discover 
 by examining and tracing those ideas we have from sen- 
 sation and reflection; and by natural deduction find to be 
 true or probable. 2. Above reason a,re such p ropo sitions 
 Avhgse truth or probability we cannot by reason derive fropa 
 those principles. 3. Contrary to reason are such proposi- 
 tions as are inconsistent with or irreconcilable to ouiLclear 
 and distinct ideas. Thus the existence of one God is accoi'd- 
 ing to reason; the existence of more than one God, con- 
 trary to reason ; the resurrection of the dead, aboA-e reason. 
 Furtlier, as above, reason may be taken in a double sensOj 
 viz., either as signifying above probability, or above certainty ^ 
 so in that large sense also, contrary to reason, is, I suppose, 
 sometimes taken. 
 
 24. Reason and Faith not opposite. — There is another use 
 of the word reason, wherein it is opposed to faith; which, 
 though it be in itself a very improper way of speaking, yet 
 common use has so authorised it, that it would be folly either 
 to oppose or hope to remedy it ; only I think it may not be 
 amiss to take notice, that, however faith be opposed to reason, 
 faith is nothing but a firm assent of the mind ; which, if it 
 be regulated, as is our duty, cannot be afibrded to anything 
 but upon good reason, and so cannot be opposite to it. He 
 that believes v/ithout having any reason for believing, may 
 be in love with his own fancies, but neither seeks truth as 
 he ought, nor pays the obedience due to his Maker, who 
 would have him use those discerning faculties he has given 
 bim, to keep him out of mistake and error. He that does 
 not this to the best of his power, however he sometimes 
 lights on truth, is in the right but by chance; and I know 
 not whether the luckiness of the accident will excuse the 
 irregularity of his proceeding. This at least is certain, that 
 he must be accountable for whatever mistakes he runs into; 
 whereas he that makes use of the light and faculties God has 
 given him, and seeks sincerely to discover truth by those helps 
 and abilities he has, may have this satisfaction in doing his 
 duty as a rational creatiu-e, that, though he should miss 
 truth, he will not miss the reward of it ; for he governs his
 
 CHAP. XVIII.] FAITH AXD REASON. 303 
 
 assent right, and places it as he should, who, in any case or 
 matter whatsoever, believes or disbelieves according as reason 
 directs him. He that doth otherwise, transgresses against 
 Ills own light, and misuses those faculties which were given 
 him to no other end, but to search and follow the clearer 
 evidence and greater probability. But since reason and faith 
 are by some men opjDosed, we will so consider them in the 
 following chapter. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 OF FAITH AND REASON, AND THEIR DISTINCT PROVINCES. 
 
 1 . Nece&sa/ry to Tcnow their Bounda/ries. — It has been above 
 shown, 1. That we are of necessity ignorant, and want 
 knowledge of all sorts, where we want ideas. 2. That we 
 are ignorant, and want rational knowledge, where we want 
 proofs. 3. That we want certain knowledge and certainty, 
 as far as we want clear and determined specific ideas. 4. 
 That we want probability to direct our assent in matters 
 where we have neither knowledge of our own nor testimony 
 of other men to bottom our reason ujion. 
 
 From these things thus premised, I think we may come 
 to lay down the measures and boundaries between faith and 
 reason; the want whereof may possibly have been the cause, 
 if not of great disorders, yet at least of great disputes, and 
 perhaps mistakes in the world. For till it be resolved how 
 far we are to be guided by reason, and how far by faith, we 
 shall in vain dispute, and endeavour to convince one another 
 in matters of religion. 
 
 2. Faith and Reason, tvliat, as contradistinguislied. — I find 
 every sect, as far as reason will help them, make use of it 
 gladly; and where it fails them, they cry out, It is matter 
 of faith, and above reason. And I do not see how they can 
 argue with any one, or ever convince a gainsayer who makes 
 use of the same plea, without setting down strict boundaries 
 between faith and reason, which ought to be the first point 
 established in all questions, where iaith has anything to do. 
 
 Reason, therefore, here, as contradistinguished to faith, I 
 take to be the discovery of the certainty or probability of
 
 304: OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV 
 
 such propositions or truths, which the mind arrives at by 
 deduction made from such ideas, which it has got by the 
 use of its natural faculties ; viz., by sensation or reflection. 
 
 Faith, on the otlier side, is the assent to any proposition 
 not thus- made out by the deductions of reason, but upon 
 the ci-edit of the proposer, as coming from God, in some ex- 
 traordinary way of communication. This way of discovering 
 truths to men, we call revelation. 
 
 3. No new simple Idea can be conveyed hy traditional Reve- 
 lation. — First, Then I say, that no man inspired by God can 
 by any revelation communicate to others any new simple 
 ideas, which they had not before from sensation or reflection. 
 For whatsoever impressions he himself may have from the 
 immediate hand of God, this revelation, if it be of new sample 
 ideas, cannot be conveyed to another, either by words or any 
 other signs; because words, by their immediate operation 
 on us, cause no other ideas but of their natural sounds; and 
 it is by the custom of using them for signs, that they excite 
 and revive in our minds latent ideas; but yet only such 
 ideas as were there before. For words seen or heard, recal 
 to our thoughts those ideas only, which to us they have been 
 wont to be signs of, but cannot introduce any perfectly new, 
 and formerly unknown simple ideas. The same holds in all 
 other signs, which cannot signify to us things of which we 
 have before never had any idea at all. 
 
 Thus, whatever things were discovered to St. Paul, when 
 he was rapt up into the third heaven, whatever new ideas 
 his mind there received, all the description he can make to 
 others of that place, is only this, that there are such things, 
 " as eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered 
 into the heart of man to conceive." And suj^posiug God 
 should discover to any one, supernaturally, a sjiecies of crea- 
 tures inhabiting, for example, Jupiter or Saturn, (for that it 
 is possible there may be such, nobody can deny,) which had 
 six senses, and imprint on his mind the ideas conveyed to 
 theirs by that sixth sense ; he could no more, by words, 
 produce in the minds of other men those ideas imprinted by 
 that sixth sense, than one of us could convey the idea of any 
 colour by the sounds of words into a man, who, having the 
 other four senses perfect, had always totally wanted the fifth, 
 of seeing. For our simple ideas, then, which are the foun-
 
 CHAP. XVIII.] FAITH AND REASON. 305 
 
 dation and sole matter of all our notions and knowledge, we 
 must depend wholly on our reason, I mean our natural 
 faculties ; and can by no means receive them, or any of them, 
 from traditional revelation ; I say, ti-aditional revelation, in 
 distinction to original revelation. By the one, I mean that 
 first impression which is made immediately by God on the 
 mind of any man, to which we cannot set any bounds ; and 
 by the other, those impressions delivered over to others in 
 words, and the ordinary ways of conveying our conceptions 
 one to another. 
 
 4. Traditional Revelation may imihe us know Propositions 
 hnowahle also hy Reason, hut not with tJie same Certainty that 
 Reason doth. — Secondly, I say that the same truths may be 
 discovered and conveyed down from revelation, which are 
 discoverable to us by reason, and by those ideas we naturally 
 may have. So God might by revelation discover the truth 
 of any proposition in Euclid ; as well as men, by the natural 
 use of their faculties, come to make the discovery themselves. 
 In all things of this kind there is little need or use of reve- 
 lation, God having furnished us with natural and surer means 
 to arrive at the knowledge of them. For whatsoever truth 
 we come to the clear discovery of, from the knowledge and 
 contemplation of our own ideas, will always be certainer to 
 us than those which are conveyed to us by traditional revela- 
 tion. For the knowledge we have that this revelation came 
 at first from God, can never be so sure as the knowledge we 
 have from the clear and distinct perception of the agreement 
 or disagreement of our own ideas ; v. g., if it were revealed 
 some ages since, that the three angles of a triangle were equal 
 to two right ones, I might assent to the truth of that propo- 
 sition, upon the credit of the tradition, that it was revealed ; 
 but that would never amount to so great a certainty as the 
 knowledge of it, upon the comparing and measuring my own 
 ideas of two right angles, and the three angles of a triangle. 
 The like holds in matter of fact knowable by our senses ; 
 V. g., the history of the deluge is conveyed to us by writings 
 which had their original from revelation : and yet nobody, I 
 think, will say he has as certain and clear a knowledge of 
 the flood as Noah, that saw it ; or that he himself would 
 have had, had he then been alive and seen it. For he has 
 no greater an assui'ance than that of his senses, that it is writ 
 
 VOL. II. X
 
 306 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 in the book supposed writ by Moses inspired ; but he has not 
 so great an assurance that Moses wrote that book as if he 
 had seen Moses write it. So that the assurance of its being 
 a revelation is less still than the assurance of his senses. 
 
 5. Revelation ca/nnot he admitted against the clear Evidence 
 of Reason. — In propositions, then, whose certainty is built 
 upon the clear perception of the agreement or disagreement 
 of our ideas, attained either by immediate intuition, as in 
 self-evident propositions or by evident deductions of reason 
 in demonstrations, we need not the assistance of revelation, 
 as necessary to gain our assent, and introduce them into our 
 minds. Because the natural ways of knowledge coidd settle 
 them there, or had dcme it already, which is the gi-eatest 
 assurance we can possibly have of anything, unless where 
 God immediately reveals it to us ; and there too our assur- 
 ance can be no greater than our knowledge is, that it is a 
 revelation from God. But yet nothing, I think, can, under 
 that title, shake or overrule plain knowledge, or rationally 
 prevail with any man to admit it for true, in a direct con- 
 tradiction to the clear evidence of his own luiderstanding. 
 For since no evidence of our faculties, by which we receive 
 such revelations, can exceed, if equal, the certainty of our 
 intuitive knowledge, we can never receive for a truth any- 
 thing that is directly contrary to oiu* clear and distinct know- 
 ledge ; V. g., the ideas of one body and one place do so clearly 
 agree, and the mind has so evident a pei-ception of their 
 agi'eement, that we can never assent to a proposition that 
 affirms the same body to be in two distant places at once, 
 however it should pretend to the authority of a divine reve- 
 lation : since the evidence, first, that we deceive not our- 
 selves, in ascribing it to God ; secondly, that we understand 
 it right ; can never be so great as the evidence of our own 
 intuitive knowledge, whereby we discern it impossible for 
 the same body to be in two places at once. And therefore 
 no proposition can be received for divine revelation, or obtain 
 the assent due to all such, if it be contradictory to our clear 
 intuitive knowledge. Because this would be to subvert the 
 principles and foundations of all knowledge, evidence, and 
 assent whatsoever : and there would be left no difference 
 between truth and falsehood, no measures of credible and 
 incredible in the world, if doubtful propositions shall take
 
 CHAP. XVIII.J FAITH AND REASON. 307 
 
 place before self-evident, and what we certainly know give 
 way to what we may possibly be mistaken in. In proposi- 
 tions, therefore, contrary to the clear perception of the agree- 
 ment or disagreement of any of our ideas, it will be in vain 
 to urge them as matters of faith : they cannot move our 
 assent under that or any other title whatsoever ; for faith 
 can never convince us of anything that contradicts our know- 
 ledge. Because, though faith be founded on the testimony 
 of God (who cannot lie) revealing any proposition to us; yet 
 we cannot have an assurance of the truth of its being a 
 divine revelation greater than our own knowledge : since the 
 whole strength of the certainty depends upon our knowledge 
 that God revealed it, which, in this case, where the proposi- 
 tion supposed revealed contradicts our knowledge or reason, 
 will always have this objection hanging to it, viz., that we 
 cannot tell how to conceive that to come from God, the 
 bountiful Author of our being, which, if received for true, 
 must overtui-n all the principles and foundations of know- 
 ledge he has given us ; render all our faculties useless ; wholly 
 destroy the most excellent part of his workmanship, our 
 understandings, and put a man in a condition wherein he 
 will have less light, less conduct than the beast that perisheth. 
 For if the mind of man can never have a clearer (and per- 
 haps not so clear) evidence of anything to be a divine reve- 
 lation, as it has of the principles of its own reason, it can 
 never have a groimd to quit the clear evidence of its reason, 
 to give a place to a proposition, whose revelation has not a 
 greater evidence than those principles have. 
 
 6. Traditional Revelation much less. — Thus far a man has 
 use of reason, and ought to hearken to it, even in immediate 
 and original revelation, where it is supposed to be made to 
 himself : but to aU those who pretend not to immediate reve- 
 lation, but are required to pay obedience, and to receive the 
 truths revealed to others, which, by the tradition of writings, 
 or word of mouth, are conveyed down to them, reason has a 
 great deal more to do, and is that only which can induce us 
 to receive them. For matter of faith being only divine reve- 
 lation, and nothing else, faith, as we use the word, (called 
 commonly divine faith,) has to do with no propositions, but 
 those which are supposed to be divinely revealed. So that I 
 do not see how those who make revelation alone the sole 
 
 x2
 
 308 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV 
 
 object of faitli can say, that it is a matter of faith, and not 
 of reason, to believe that such or such a proposition, to be 
 found in such or such a book, is of divine inspiration, unless 
 it be revealed that that proposition, or all in that book, was 
 communicated by divine inspiration. Without such a reve- 
 lation, the believing or not believing that proposition or book 
 to be of divine authority, can never be matter of faith, but 
 matter of reason; and such as I must come to an assent to 
 only by the use of my reason, which can never require or 
 enable me to believe that which is contrary to itself : it being 
 impossible for reason ever to procui-e any assent to that which 
 to itself appears unreasonable. 
 
 In all things, therefore, where we have clear evidence from 
 our ideas, and those principles of knowledge I have above 
 mentioned, reason is the proper judge ; and revelation, though 
 it may, in consenting with it, confirm its dictates, yet cannot 
 in such cases invalidate its decrees : nor can we be obliged, 
 where we have the clear and evident sentence of reason to 
 quit it for the contrary opinion, under a pretence that it is 
 matter of faith, which can have no authority against the plain 
 and clear dictates of reason. 
 
 7. Things above Reason. — But, Thirdly, There being many 
 things wherein we have very imperfect notions, or none at 
 all ; and other things, of whose past^ present, or future exist- 
 ence, by the natural use of ovir faculties, we can have no 
 knowledge at all ; these, as being beyond the discovery of 
 our natui'al faculties, and above reason, are, when revealed, 
 the proper matter of faith. Thus, that part of the angels 
 rebelled against God, and thereby lost their first happy state ; 
 and that the dead shall rise, and live again: these and the 
 like, being beyond the discovery of reason, are purely matters 
 of faith, with which reason has directly nothing to do. 
 
 8. Or not contrary to Reason, if revealed, are Matter of 
 Faith. — But since God, in giving us the light of reason, has 
 not thereby tied up his own hands from afibrding us, when 
 he thinks fit, the light of revelation in any of those matters 
 wherein our natural faculties are able to give a probable 
 determination ; revelation, where God has been pleased to 
 give it, must carry it against the probable conjectures of 
 reason. Because the mind not being certain of the truth of 
 that it does not evidently know, but only yielding to the
 
 HAP. XVIII.] FAITH AND REASON. 309 
 
 probability that appears in it, is bound to give up its assent 
 to such a testimony; which, it is satisfied, comes from one 
 who cannot err, and will not deceive. But yet it still be- 
 longs to reason to judge of the truth of its being a revelation, 
 and of the signification of the words wherein it is delivered. 
 Indeed, if anything shall be thought revelation which is con- 
 trary to the plain principles of reason, and the evident 
 knowledge the mind has of its own clear and distinct ideas; 
 there reason must be heai-kened to, as to a matter within its 
 province : since a man can never have so certain a know- 
 ledge, that a proposition which contradicts the clear prin- 
 ciples and evidence of his own knowledge was divinely 
 revealed, or that he understands the words rightly wherein 
 it is delivered, as he has that the contrary is true : and so is 
 bound to consider and judge of it as a matter of reason, and 
 not swallow it, without examination, as a matter of faith. 
 
 9. Revelation in Matters wltere Reason cannot judge, or hut 
 probably, ought to he hea/rkened to. — First, Whatever proposi- 
 tion is I'evealed, of whose truth our mind, by its natural 
 faculties and notions, cannot judge; that is purely matter of 
 faith, and above reason. 
 
 Secondly, All propositions whereof the mind, by the use 
 of its natural faculties, can come to determine and judge, 
 from naturally acquired ideas, are matter of reason, with this 
 difierence stUl, that, in those concerning which it has but an 
 uncertain evidence, and so is persuaded of their truth only 
 upon probable grounds, which still admit a possibility of the 
 contrary to be true, without doing violence to the certain 
 evidence of its own knoAvledge, and overtui'ning the prin- 
 caples of all reason ; in such probable propositions, I say, 
 an evident revelation ought to determine our assent, even 
 against probability. For where the principles of reason 
 have not evidenced a pi-oposition to be certainly true or 
 false, there clear revelation, as another principle of truth and 
 ground of assent, may determine; and so it may be matter 
 of faith, and be also above reason. Because reason, in that 
 particular matter, being able to reach no higher than pro- 
 bability, faith gave the determination where reason came 
 short; and revelation discovered on which side the tnith lay. 
 
 10. In Matters where Reason can afford certain Knowledge, 
 that is to he Jiearkened to. — Thus far the dominion of faith
 
 310 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 reaches, and that without any violence or hindrance to reason, 
 which is not injured or disturbed, but assisted and improved 
 by new discoveries of truth, coming from the eternal fountain 
 of all knowledge. Whatever God hath revealed is certainly 
 true : no doubt can be made of it. This is the jiroper object 
 of faith ; but whether it be a divine revelation or no, reason 
 must judge, which can never permit the mind to reject a 
 gi'eater evidence to embrace what is less evident, nor allow 
 it to entertain probability in opposition to knowledge and 
 certainty. There can be no evidence that any traditional 
 revelation is of divine original, in the words we receive it, 
 and in the sense we understand it, so clear and so certain as 
 that of the principles oi' reason : and therefore nothing that 
 is contrary to, and inconsistent with, the clear and self-evident 
 dictates of reason, has a right to be urged or assented to as 
 a matter of faith, wherein reason hath nothing to do. What- 
 soever is divine revelation, ought to overrule all our opinions, 
 prejudices, and interest, and hath a right to be received with 
 full assent. Such a submission as this, of our reason to 
 faith, takes not away the landmarks of knowledge : this 
 shakes not the foundations of reason, but leaves us that use 
 of our faculties for which they were given us. 
 
 11. If the Boundaries he not set between Faith and Reason, 
 no Enthusiasm or Extravagancy in Religion can he contror- 
 dicted. — If the provinces of faith and reason are not kept 
 distinct by these bovmdaries, there will, in matters of religion, 
 be no room for reason at all; and those extravagant opinions 
 and ceremonies that are to be found in the several religions 
 of the world will not deserve to be blamed. For to this 
 crying nj) of faith in opposition to reason, we may, I think, 
 in good measure ascribe those absurdities that fill almost all 
 the religions which possess and divide mankind. For men 
 having been principled with an opinion, that they must not 
 consult reason in the things of religion, however apparently 
 contradictory to common sense and the very principles of all 
 their knowledge, have let loose their fancies and natural 
 superstition ; and have been by them led into so strange 
 opinions and extravagant practices in religion, that a con- 
 siderate man cannot but stand amazed at their follies, and 
 judge them so far from being acceptable to the great and 
 wise God, that he cannot avoid thinking them lidicidous and
 
 CHAP. XIX.] ENTHUSIASM. 311 
 
 offensive to a sober good man. So that, in effect, religion, 
 ■which should most distinguish us from beasts, and ought 
 most peculiarly to elevate us, as rational creatures, above 
 brutes, is that wherein men often ai:)pear most irrational and 
 more senseless than beasts themselves. " Credo, quia ira- 
 possibile est;" I believe, because it is impossible, might in a 
 good man pass for a sally of zeal ; but would prove a very ill 
 rule for men to choose their opinions or religion by. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 OP ENTHUSIASM. 
 
 1. Love of Truth necessary. — He that would seriously set 
 upon the search of truth,* ought in the first place to prepare 
 his mind with a love of it. For he that loves it not, will 
 not take much pains to get it, nor be much concerned when 
 he misses it. There is nobody in the commonwealth of 
 learning who does not profess himself a lover of truth ; and 
 there is not a rational creature that would not take it amiss 
 to be thought otherwise of And yet, for all this, one may 
 truly say, that there are very few lovers of truth, for truth's 
 sake, even amongst those who persuade themselves that they 
 are so. How a man may know whether he be so in earnest, 
 
 * In Milton's Areopagitica there occurs a passage on the love and 
 beauty of truth so fervid, nervous, and worthy of admiration, that I 
 am tempted to introduce it as a note upon this passage, which yet, I 
 confess, stands in little need of illustration. " Truth indeed came once 
 into the world with her Divine Master, and was a perfect shape most 
 glorious to look on : but when he ascended, and his apostles after him 
 were laid asleep, then straight arose a wicked race of deceivers, who, 
 as that story goes of the Egyptian Typhon with his conspirators, how 
 they dealt with the god Osiris, took the virgin Truth, hewed her lovely 
 form into a thousand pieces, and scattered them to the four winds. 
 From that time ever since, the sad friends of Truth, such as durst 
 appear, imitating the careful search that Isis made for the mangled body 
 of Osiris, went up and down, gathering up limb by limb still as they 
 could find them. We have not yet found them all — lords and commons 
 — nor ever shall do, tUl her Master's second coming ; he shall bring to- 
 gether every joint and member, and shall mould them into an immortal 
 feature of loveliness and perfection. Suffer not these licensing pro- 
 hibitions to stand at every place of opportunity, forbidding and disturb- 
 ing them that continue seeking — that continue to do our obsequies to 
 the torn body of our martyred saint." (§ 61.) — Ed.
 
 312 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IT, 
 
 is worth inquiry : and I think there is one unerring mark of 
 it, viz., the not entertaining any proposition with greater 
 assurance than the proofs it is built upon will warrant. 
 Whoever goes beyond this measure of assent, it is plain re- 
 ceives not the truth in the love of it; loves not truth for 
 truth's sake, but for some other bye-end.* For the evidence 
 that any proposition is true (except such as are self-evident) 
 lying only in the proofs a man has of it, whatsoever degrees 
 of assent he affords it beyond the degrees of that evidence, 
 it is plain that all the sui-plusage of assurance is owing to 
 some other affection, and not to the love of truth : it being 
 as impossible that the love of truth should carry my assent 
 above the evidence there is to me that it is true, as that the 
 love of truth should make me assent to any proposition for 
 the sake of that evidence, which it has not that it is true ; 
 which is in effect to love it as a truth, because it is possible 
 or probable that it may not be true. In any truth that gets 
 not possession of ovu- minds by the irresistible light of self- 
 evidence, or by the force of demonstration, the arguments that 
 gain it assent are the vouchers and gage of its probability to 
 us ; and we can receive it for no other than such as they 
 deliver it to our understandings. Whatsoever credit or 
 authority we give to any proposition more than it receives 
 from the principles and pi'oofs it supports itself upon, is 
 owing to our inclinations that way, and is so far a derogation 
 from the love of truth as such : which, as it can receive no 
 evidence from our passions or interests, so it should receive 
 no tincture from them. 
 
 2. A Forwardness to dictate, from whence. — The assuming 
 an authority of dictating to others, and a forwardness to 
 prescribe to their opinions, is a constant concomitant of this 
 bias and corruption of our judgments. For how almost can 
 it be otherwise, but that he should be ready to impose on 
 another's belief, who has already imposed on his own? Who 
 can reasonably expect argiiments and conviction from him in 
 dealing with others, whose understanding is not accustomed 
 
 * Tn the same spirit Milton remarks, that, ' ' A man may be a heretic 
 in the truth ; and if he believe things only because his pastor says so, or 
 the assembly so determines, without knowing other reason, though his 
 belief be true, yet the very truth he holds becomes his heresy." (Areopag. 
 § 54.)— Ed.
 
 CHAP. XIX.] ENTHUSIASM. 313 
 
 to them in his dealing -with himself 1 Who does violence to 
 his own faculties, tyrannizes over his own mind, and usurps 
 the prerogative that belongs to truth alone, which is to com- 
 mand assent by only its own authority, i.e., by and in pro- 
 portion to that evidence which it carries with it. 
 
 3. Foi'ce of Enthusiasm. — Upon this occasion I shall take 
 the liberty to consider a third ground of assent, which with 
 some men has the same authority, and is as confidently reUed 
 on as either faith or reason; I mean enthusiasm: which, lay- 
 ing by reason, would set up revelation without it. Whereby 
 in effect it takes away both reason and revelation, and sub- 
 stitutes in the room of it the ungrounded fancies of a man's 
 own brain, and assumes them for a foundation both of opinion 
 and conduct. 
 
 4. Reason and Revdation. — Reason is natural revelation, 
 whereby the eternal Father of light and fountain of all know- 
 ledge, communicates to mankind that portion of truth which 
 he has laid within the reach of their natural faculties : reve- 
 lation is natiu:-al reason enlarged by a new set of discoveries 
 commimicated by God immediately, which reason vouches 
 the truth of, by the testimony and proofs it gives that they 
 come from God. So that he that takes away reason to make 
 way for revelation, puts out the light of both ; and does 
 muchwhat the same as if he would persuade a man to put 
 out his eyes, the better to receive the remote light of an in- 
 visible star by a telescope. 
 
 5. Rise of Enthusiasm. — Immediate revelation being a 
 much easier way for men to establish their opinions and re- 
 gulate their conduct, than the tedious and not always success- 
 ful laboui' of strict reasoning, it is no wonder that some have 
 been very apt to pretend to revelation, and to persuade them- 
 selves that they are under the peciJiar guidance of heaven 
 in their actions and opinions, especially in those of them 
 which they cannot account for by the ordinary methods of 
 knowledge and principles of reason. Hence we see, that, in 
 all ages, men in whom melancholy has mixed with devotion, 
 or whose conceit of themselves has raised them into an 
 opinion of a greater familiarity with God, and a nearer ad- 
 mittance to his favour than is afforded to others, have often 
 flattered themselves with a persuasion of an immediate inter- 
 course with the Deity, and frequent communications from
 
 314 OF HUMAN UNDEKSTAirotNG. [bOOK IV. 
 
 the Divine Spirit. God, I own, cannot be denied to be able 
 to enlighten the understanding by a ray darted into the 
 muid immediately from the fountain of light : this they 
 understand he has promised to do, and who then has so good 
 a title to ex25ect it as those who are his peculiar people, 
 chosen by him, and depending on him 1 
 
 6. Enthusiasm. — Their minds being thus prepared, what- 
 ever groundless opinion comes to settle itself strongly upon 
 their fancies, is an illumination from the Spirit of God, and 
 presently of divine authority: and whatsoever odd action 
 they find in themselves a strong inclination to do, that im- 
 pulse is concluded to be a call or direction from heaven, and 
 must be obeyed; it is a commission from above, and they 
 cannot err in executing it. 
 
 7. This I take to be properly enthusiasm,* which, though 
 founded neither on reason nor divine revelation, but rising 
 from the conceits of a warmed or overweening brain, works 
 yet, where it once gets footing, more powerfully on the per- 
 suasions and actions of men than either of those two, or both 
 together: men being most forwardly obedient to the im- 
 pulses they receive from themselves ; and the whole man is 
 sure to act more vigorously where the whole man is carried 
 by a natural motion. For strong conceit, like a new prin- 
 
 * This chapter did not appear in the first edition, but was planned 
 afterwards, and the idea communicated by letter to the author's friend, 
 Mr. Molyneux ; who at first thought it unnecessary, yet, upon recon- 
 sideration, recommended it to be introduced, but in a very diflferent 
 shape. "I must freely confess," he writes, "that if my notion of 
 enthusiasm agrees with yours, there is no necessity of adding anything 
 concerning it, more than by the by, and in a single section in chap. 18, 
 lib. iv. I conceive it to be no other than a religious sort of madness, 
 and comprises not in it any mode of thinking, or operation of the mind 
 different from what you have treated of in your essay. 'T is true, in- 
 deed, the absurdities men embrace on account of religion are most asto- 
 nishing ; and if, in a chapter of Enthusiusm, you endeavour to give an 
 account of them, it would be very acceptable. So that, (on second 
 thought,) I do very well approve of what you propose therein, being 
 very desirous of having your sentiments on any subject." (Works, III. 
 533.) To which Locke replies, "What I shall add concerning enthu- 
 siasm, I guess, will very much agree with your thoughts, since youra 
 jump so right with mine. About the place where it is to come in, I 
 have designed it for chap. 18, lib. iv. as a false principle of reasoning 
 often made use of But, to give an historical account of the various 
 ravings men have embraced for religion, would, I fear, be beside my 
 purpose, and be enough to make a huge volume." (p. 535.)
 
 CHAP. XIX.] ENTHUSIASM. • 315 
 
 ciple, carries all easily with it, when got above common sense 
 and freed from all restraint of reason and check of reflection, 
 it is heightened into a divine authority, in concurrence with 
 our own temper and inclination. 
 
 8. Enthusiasm 'mistaken for Seeing and Feeling. — Though 
 the odd opinions and extravagant actions enthusiasm has run 
 men into were enough to warn them against this wrong 
 principle, so apt to misguide them both in their belief and 
 conduct, yet the love of something extraordinary, the ease 
 and glory it is to be inspired, and be above the common and 
 natural ways of knowledge, so flatters many men's laziness, 
 ignoi-ance, and vanity, that, when once they are got into 
 this way of immediate revelation, of illumination without 
 search, and of certainty without proof and without exami- 
 nation, it is a hard matter to get them out of it. Reason 
 is lost upon them, they are above it : they see the light in- 
 fused into their understandings, and cannot be mistaken; 
 it is clear and visible there, like the light of bright sunshine ; 
 shows itself, and needs no other proof but its own evidence : 
 they feel the hand of God moving them within, and the im- 
 pulses of the Spirit, and cannot be mistaken in what they 
 feel. Thus they support themselves, and are sure reason 
 hath nothing to do with what they see and feel in them- 
 selves: what they have a sensible experience of admits no 
 doubt, needs no probation. Would he not be ridiculous, 
 who should require to have it proved to him that the light 
 shines, and that he sees if? It is its own proof, and can 
 have no othei\ When the Spirit brings light into our minds, 
 it dispels darkness. We see it as we do that of the sun at 
 noon, and need not the twilight of reason to show it us. This 
 light from heaven is strong, clear, and pure; carries its own 
 demonstration with it : and we may as naturally take a glow- 
 worm to assist us to discover the sun, as to examine the 
 celestial ray by our dim candle, reason. 
 
 9. Enthusiasm how to be discovered. — This is the way of 
 talking of these men ; they are sure, because they are sure : 
 and their persuasions are right, because they are strong in 
 them. For, when what they say is stripped of the metaphor 
 of seeing and feeling, this is all it amounts to : and yet thes-e 
 similies so impose on them, that they serve them for cer- 
 tainty in themselves, and demonstration to othei's.
 
 316 • OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 10. But to examine a little soberly this internal light, 
 and this feeling on which they build so much. These men 
 have, they say, clear Ught, and they see ; they have awakened 
 sense, and they feel : this cannot, they are sure, be disputed 
 them. For when a man says he sees or feels, nobody can 
 deny him that he does so. But here let me ask : — this see- 
 ing, is it the perception of the truth of the proposition, or 
 of this, that it is a revelation from God 1 — this feeling, is it a 
 perception of an inclination or fancy to do something, or of 
 the- Spirit of God moving that inclination? These are two 
 very different perceptions, and must be carefully distinguished, 
 if we would not impose upon ourselves. I may perceive the 
 truth of a proposition, and yet not perceive that it is an 
 immediate revelation from God. I may perceive the truth 
 of a proposition in Euclid, without its being or my perceiv- 
 ing it to be a revelation : nay, I may perceive I came not 
 by this knowledge in a natural way, and so may conclude 
 it revealed, without perceiving that it is a revelation of 
 God; because there be spirits which, without being divinely 
 commissioned, may excite those ideas in me, and lay them 
 in such order before my mind, that I may perceive their 
 connexion. So that the knowledge of any proposition com- 
 ing into my mind, I know not how, is not a perception that 
 it is from God. Much less is a strong persuasion that it is 
 ti'ue, a perception that it is from God, or so much as true. 
 But however it be called light and seeing, I suppose it is at 
 most but belief and assurance: and the proposition taken 
 for a revelation, is not such as they know to be true, but 
 take to be true. For where a proposition is known to be 
 true, revelation is needless : and it is hard to conceive how 
 ohere can be a revelation to any one of what he knows al- 
 ready. If therefore it be a proposition which they are per- 
 suaded, but do not know, to be true, whatever they may call 
 it, it is not seeing, but believing. For these are two ways 
 whereby truth comes into the mind, wholly distinct, so that 
 one is not the other. What I see, I know to be so, by the 
 evidence of the thing itself : what I believe, I take to be so 
 upon the testimony of another: but this testimony I must 
 know to be given, or else what ground have I of believing? 
 I must see that it is God that reveals this to me, or else I 
 see nothing. The question then here is, how do I know that
 
 CHAP. XIX.] ENTHUSIASM. 317 
 
 God is the revealer of this to me ; that this impression is 
 made upon my mind by his Holy Spirit, and that therefore 
 I ought to obey it? If I know not this, how great soever 
 the assurance is that I am possessed with, it is groundless; 
 whatever light I pretend to, it is but enthusiasm. For 
 whether the proposition supposed to be revealed, be in itself 
 evidently true, or visibly probable, or by the natural ways 
 of knowledge uncertain, the proposition that must be well 
 grounded and manifested to be true, is this, that God is the 
 revealer of it, and that what I take to be a revelation is 
 certainly put into my mind by him, and is not an illusion 
 dropped in by some other spirit or raised by my own fancy. 
 For, if I mistake not, these men receive it for true, because 
 they presume God revealed it. Does it not, then, stand 
 them upon to examine on what grounds they presume it to 
 be a revelation from God? or else all their confidence is 
 mere pi-esumption : and this light they are so dazzled with 
 is nothing but an ignis fatuus, that leads them constantly 
 -round in this circle;* it is a revelation, because they firmly 
 believe it, and they believe it, because it is a revelation. 
 
 11. Enthusiasm fails of Evidence, that tlie Proposition is 
 from God, — In all that is of divine revelation, there is need 
 of no other proof but that it is an inspiration from God ; for 
 he can neither deceive nor be deceived. But how shall it 
 be known that any proposition in our minds is a tnith in- 
 fused by God; a truth that is revealed to us by him, which 
 he declares to us, and therefore we ought to believe? Here 
 it is that enthusiasm fails of the evidence it pretends to. 
 For men thus possessed, boast of a light whereby they say 
 they are enlightened, and brought into the knowledge of this 
 or that truth. But if they know it to be a truth, they must 
 know it to be so, either by its own self-evidence to natui'al 
 reason, or by the rational proofs that make it out to be so. 
 If they see and know it to be a truth, either of these two 
 ways, they in vain suppose it to be a revelation. For they 
 know it to be true the same way that any other man 
 natm-ally may know that it is so, without the help of reve- 
 lation. For thus, all the truths, of what kind soever, that 
 men uninspired are enlightened with, came into their minds, 
 
 * An ignis fatuus that bewitches, 
 
 And leads them into pools and ditches. — Hudibbas. — Ed.
 
 318 OF nUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 and are established there. If they say they know it to be true, 
 because it is a revelation from God, the reason is good ; but 
 then it will be demanded how they know it to be a revela- 
 tion from God. If they say, by the light it brings with it 
 which shines bright in their minds, and they cannot resist : 
 I beseech them to consider whether this be any more than 
 what we have taken notice of already, viz., that it is a reve- 
 lation, because they strongly believe it to be true. For all 
 the light they speak of is but a strong, though ungrounded 
 persuasion of their own minds, that it is a truth. For 
 i-ational gi'ounds from proofs that it is a truth, they must 
 acknowledge to have none; for then it is not received as a 
 revelation, but upon the ordinary grounds that other truths 
 are received : and if they believe it to be true because it is a 
 revelation, and have no other reason for its being a revela- 
 tion, but because they are fully persuaded ^vithout any other 
 reason that it is true; they believe it to be a revelation only 
 because they strongly believe it to be a revelation ; which 
 is a very unsafe ground to proceed on, either in our tenets 
 or actions. And what readier way can there be to run our- 
 selves into the most extravagant errors and miscarriages, 
 than thus to set up fancy for our supreme and sole guide, 
 and to believe any proposition to be true, any action to be 
 right, only because we believe it to be sol The strength of 
 our persuasions is no evidence at all of their own rectitude : 
 crooked things may be as stiif and inflexible as straight : 
 and men may be as positive and jDcremptory in error as in 
 truth. How come else the unti'actable zealots in different 
 and opposite parties'? For if the light, which every one 
 thinks he has in his mind, which in this case is nothing but 
 the strength of his own pei-suasion, be an evidence that it is 
 from God, contrary opinions have the same title to inspira- 
 tions; and God will be not only the Father of Lights, but of 
 opposite and contradictory lights, leading men contrary 
 ways; and contradictory propositions will be divine truths, 
 if an ungrounded strength of assurance be an evidence that 
 any proposition is a di'sdne revelation. 
 
 12. Firmness of Persuasion no Proof that any Proposition 
 is frma God. — This cannot be othei'wise, whilst firmness of 
 persuasion is made the cause of believing, and confidence of 
 being in the right is made an argument of truth. St, Paul
 
 C3HAP. XIX.] ENTHUSIASM. 319 
 
 himself believed he did well, and that he had a call to it 
 when he persecuted the Christians, whom he confidently thought 
 in the wrong; but yet it was he, and not they, who were mis- 
 taken. Good men are men still, liable to mistakes ; and are 
 sometimes warmly engaged in eiTors, which they take for 
 divine truths, shining ia their minds with the clearest light. 
 
 13. Light in the Mind, loJuit. — Light, true light, in the 
 mind is, or can be nothing else but the evidence of the tnith 
 of any proposition ; and if it be not a self-evident proposition, 
 all the light it has or can have is from the clearness and 
 validity of those proofs upon which it is received. To talk 
 of any other light in the understanding, is to put ourselves 
 in the dark, or in the power of the Prince of Darkness, and 
 by our own consent to give ourselves up to delusion to 
 believe a lie. For if strength of persusasion be the light 
 which must guide us; I ask how shall any one distinguish 
 between the delusions of Satan, and the inspirations of the 
 Holy Ghost? He can transform himself into an angel of 
 light. And they who are led by this son of the morning, 
 ai'e as fully satisfied of the illumination, i. e., are as strongly 
 persuaded that they are enlightend by the Spirit of God as 
 any one who is so : they acquiesce and rejoice in it, are actu- 
 ated by it, and nobody can be more sure, nor more in the 
 right (if their own strong belief may be judge) than they. 
 
 14. Revelation must be judged of by Reason. — He, there- 
 fore, that will not give himself up to all the extravagances of 
 delusion and error, must bring this guide of his light within 
 to the trial. God, when he makes the prophet, does not 
 unmake the man. He leaves all his faculties in the natural 
 state, to enable him to judge of his inspirations, whether 
 they be of divine original or no. When he illuminates the 
 mind with supernatural light, he does not extinguish that 
 which is natural. If he would have us assent to the truth 
 of any proposition, he either evidences that truth by the 
 usual methods of natural reason, or else makes it known to 
 be a truth which he would have us assent to by his authority, 
 and convinces us that it is from him, by some marks which 
 reason cannot be mistaken in. Reason must be our last 
 judge and guide in eveiy thing. I do not mean that we 
 must consult reason, and examine whether a proposition 
 revealed from God can be made out by natural principles,
 
 320 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, [bOOK IV, 
 
 and if it cannot, that then we may reject it ; but consult it 
 we must, and by it examine whether it be a revelation 
 from God or no. And if reason finds it to be revealed from 
 God, reason then declares for it as much as for any other 
 truth, and makes it one of her dictates. Every conceit that 
 thoroughly warms our fancies must pass for an inspiration, 
 if there be nothing but the strength of our persuasions, 
 whei'eby to judge of our persuasions : if reason must not 
 examine their truth by something extrinsical to the per- 
 suasions themselves, inspirations and delusions, truth and 
 falsehood, will have the same measure, and will not be possible 
 to be distinguished. 
 
 15. Belief tw Proof of Revelation. — If this internal light, 
 or any proposition which under that title we take for in- 
 spired, be conformable to the principles of reason, or to the 
 word of God, which is attested i-evelation, reason wan-ants 
 it, and we may safely receive it for true, and be guided by it 
 in our belief and actions : if it receive no testimony nor evi- 
 dence from either of these rules, we canBot take it for a 
 revelation, or so much as for true, till we have some other 
 mark that it is a revelation, besides our believing that it is 
 so. Thus we see the holy men of old, who had revelations 
 from God, had something else besides that internal light of 
 assurance in their own minds, to testify to them that it was 
 from God. They were not left to their own persuasions 
 alone, that those persuasions were from God, but had outward 
 signs to convince them of the author of those revelations. And 
 when they were to convince others, they had a power given them 
 to justify the truth of their commission from heaven, and by 
 visible signs to assert the divine authority of a message they 
 were sent with. Moses saw the bush burn without being 
 consumed, and heard a voice out of it. This was something 
 besides finding an impulse upon his mind to go to Pharaoh, 
 that he might bring his brethren out of Egypt : and yet he 
 thought not this enough to authorize him to go with that 
 message, tiU God, by another miracle of his rod turned into 
 a serpent, had assured him of a power to testify his mission, 
 by the same miracle repeated before them, whom he was sent 
 to. Gideon was sent by an angel to deliver Israel from the 
 Midianites, and yet he desired a sign to conAance him that 
 this commission was from God. These, and several the like
 
 CHAP. XX.] WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR. 321 
 
 instances to be found among the prophets of okl, are enough 
 to show that they thought not an inward seeing or persua- 
 sion of their own minds, without any otlier proof, a sufficient 
 evidence that it was from God ; though the Scrijiture does not 
 everywhere mention their demanding or having such proofs. 
 
 16. In what I have said I am far from denying, that God 
 can or doth sometimes enlighten men's minds in the appre- 
 hending of cei'tain tniths, or excite them to good actions by 
 the immediate influence and assistance of the Holy Spirit, 
 ■without any extraordinary signs accompanying it. But in 
 such cases too we have reason and Scripture, unerring rules 
 to know whether it be from God or no. Where the truth 
 embraced is consonant to the revelation in the written woi'd 
 of God, or the action conformable to the dictates of right 
 reason or holy vn-it, we may be assiu-ed that we run no risk 
 in entertaining it as such; because, though perhaps it be not 
 an immediate revelation from God, extraordinarily operating 
 on our minds, yet we are sure it is warranted by that revela- 
 tion which he has given us of truth. But it is not the 
 strength of our private persuasion within ourselves, that can 
 warrant it to be a light or motion from heaven; nothing 
 can do that but the written Word of God without us, or 
 that standard of reason which is common to us with all men. 
 Where reason or Scripture is express for any opinion or 
 action, we may receive it as of divine authority; but it is 
 not the strength of our own persuasions which can by itself 
 give it that stamp. The bent of our own minds may favour 
 it as much a§ we please; that may show it to be a fondling 
 of our own, but will by no means prove it to be an offspring 
 of heaven, and of divine original. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 OF WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR. 
 
 1. Causes of Error. — Knowledge being to be had only of 
 visible and certain truth, error is not a fault of our know- 
 ledge, but a mistake of our judgment, giving assent to that 
 which is not true. 
 
 But if assent be grounded on likelihood, if the proper 
 object and motive of our assent be probability, and that 
 
 VOL. II. Y
 
 322 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK TV. 
 
 probability consists in what is laid down in the foregoing 
 chapters, it will be demanded how men come to give their 
 assents contrary to probability. For there is nothing more 
 common than contrariety of opinions; nothing more obvious 
 than that one man wholly disbelieves what another only 
 doubts of, and a third stedfastly believes and firmly adheres 
 to. The reasons whereof, though they may be very various, 
 yet, I suppose may all be reduced to these four : 
 I. Want of proofs. 
 II. Want of ability to use them. 
 
 III. Want of will to use them. 
 
 IV. Wrong measures of probability. 
 
 2. I. Want of Proofs. — First, By want of proofs, I do not 
 mean only the want of those proofs which are nowhere ex- 
 tant, and so are nowhere to be had; but the want even of 
 those proofs which ai-e in being, or might be procured. And 
 thus men want proofs, who have not the convenience or 
 opportunity to make ex^Deriments and observations them7 
 selves tending to the proof of any proposition ; ncr likewise 
 the convenience to inquire into and collect the testimonies of 
 others : and in this state are the greatest part of mankind, 
 who are given up to labour, and enslaved to the necessity of 
 their mean condition, whose lives are worn out only in the 
 ]>rovisions for living. These men's opportunities of know- 
 ledge and inquiry are commonly as narrow as theii' fortunes; 
 and their understandings are but little instructed, when all 
 their whole time and pains is laid out to still the croaking of 
 their own bellies, or the cries of their children. It is not to 
 be expected that a man who drudges on all his life in a labo- 
 rious trade, should be more knowing in the variety of things 
 done in the world than a packhoi'se, who is driven constantly 
 forwards and backwards in a narrow lane and dirty road, 
 only to market, should be skilled in the geography of the 
 country. Nor is it at all more possible, that he who wants 
 leisure, books, and languages, and the opportvmity of con- 
 versing with variety of men, should be in a condition to 
 collect those testimonies and observations which are in being, 
 and are necessary to make out many, nay, most of the pro- 
 positions that, in the societies of men, are judged of the 
 greatest moment; or to find out grounds of assurance so 
 great as the belief of the points he would build on them is
 
 CHAP. XX.] WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR. 323 
 
 thought necessary. So that a great part of mankind are, by 
 the natural and unalterable state of things in this world, and 
 the constitution of human affairs, unavoidably given over to 
 invincible ignorance of those proofs on which others build, 
 and which are necessary to establish those opinions ; the 
 gi'eatest part of men, having much to do to get the means of 
 living, are not in a condition to look after those of learned 
 and .laborious inquiries. 
 
 3, Obj. What slmll become of those who wcmt them 7 an- 
 swefi'ed. — What shall we say, then? Are the greatest part of 
 mankind, by the necessity of their condition, subjected to 
 \inavoidable ignorance in those things wliich are of greatest 
 importance to them] (for of these it is obvious to inquire.) 
 Have the bulk of mankind no other giude but accident and 
 blind chance to conduct them to their happiness or misery] 
 Are the current opinions and licensed guides of every country, 
 sufficient evidence and security to every man to venture his 
 great conceimments on; nay, his everlasting happiness or 
 misery? Or can those be the certain and infallible oracles 
 and standards of truth, which teach one thing in Christen- 
 dom and another in Turkey? Or shall a poor coimtryman 
 be eternally happy for having the chance to be bom in Italy ; 
 or a day-labourer be unavoidably lost because he had the ill- 
 luck to be born in England?* How ready some men may 
 
 * Thus that charitable Dominican, NavaiTete, by wholesale damns 
 the Chinese for not being born in Spain. " They dress him (the dead 
 man) in his best clothes, which they keep carefully while they are living, 
 against they are dead ; the devil takes them very richly and warmly 
 clad." (1. II. c. viii. § 7.) But the good father is perfectly impartial, 
 for not the Chinese only, but all Mahometans, Lutherans, and Cal- 
 vinists go the same broad way to destruction. " Here we might discuss 
 a point of great moment, which is, whether those sectaries we have 
 mentioned were saved, or whether we may doubt of their salvation ? In 
 the second tome, which is the proper place, what was said to this point 
 in China, shall be declared, I never made any difficulty to maintain they 
 were damned, as I affinn of Mahomet, Calvin, Luther, and others of the 
 same leaven. I know those of the contrary opinion all hang by one 
 another, and say the same of those we have mentioned as they do of 
 Fo and others. But I follow the opinion of S. Peter Marimenus 
 Martyr, mentioned in the Martyi-ology, on the twenty- first of February. 
 He lying sick at Damascus, some Mahometans came in to visit him. 
 The saint told them that those who did not profess the law of God went 
 to hell as Mahomet had done. The infidels killed him for these words, 
 and he wa-s a glorious martyr. Why might not he be so, who should say 
 the same of Fo and others?" (L. II. c. xii. -§ 8,) — Ed. 
 
 y2
 
 324 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 be to say some of these things, I will not here examine; but 
 this I am svire, that men must allow one or other of these 
 to be true, (let them choose which they please,) or else grant 
 that God has furnished men with faculties sufficient to direct 
 them in the way they should take, if they will but seriously 
 employ them that way, when their ordinary vocations allow 
 them the leisure. 'No man is so wholly taken up with the 
 attendance on the means of living, as to have no spare time at 
 at all to think of his soul, and inform himself in matters of 
 religion. Were men as intent upon this, as they are on things 
 of lower concernment, there are none so enslaved to the 
 necessities of life, who might not find many vacancies that 
 might be husbanded to this advantage of their knowledge. 
 
 4. People hindered fr(nn Inquiry. — Besides those whose 
 improvements and informations are straitened by the narrow- 
 ness of their fortunes, there are others whose largeness of 
 fortune would plentifully enough supply books and other 
 requisites for clearing of doubts and discovering of truth ; 
 but they are cooped in close, by the laws of their countries, 
 and the strict guards of those whose interest it is to keep 
 them ignorant, lest, knowing more, they should believe the 
 less in them. These are as far, nay further, from the liberty 
 and opportunities of a fair inquiry, than these poor and 
 wi'etched labourers we before spoke of ; and however they 
 may seem high and great, are confined to narrowness of 
 thought, and enslaved in that which should be the freest part 
 of man: their understandings. This is generally the case of 
 all those who live in places where care is taken to proj)agate 
 truth without knowledge ; where men are forced, at a ven- 
 ture, to be of the religion of the country; and must there- 
 fore swallow down opinions, as silly people do empuic's pills, 
 without knowing what they are made of, or how they will 
 work, and having nothing to do but believe that they will do 
 the cure ; but in this are much more miserable than they, in 
 that they are not at liberty to refuse swallowing what per- 
 haps they had rather let alone ; or to choose the physician, to 
 whose conduct they would trust themselves. 
 
 5. II. Want qf Skill to use timn. — Secondly, Those who 
 want skill to use those evidences they have of probabilities; 
 who cannot carry a train of consequences in their heads; nor 
 weigh exactly the preponderancy of contrary proofs and tes-
 
 CHAP. XX.] WROXG ASSENT, OR ERROR. 325 
 
 timonies, making eveiy circumstance its due allowance ; may 
 be easily misled to assent to positions that are not probable. 
 There ai-e some men of one, some but of > two syllogisms, and 
 no more; and others that can but advance one step further. 
 These cannot always discern that side on which the strongest 
 proofs lie, cannot constantly follow that which in itself is the 
 more probable opinion. Now that there is such a difFei-ence 
 between men, in resjiect of their tmderstandings, I think no- 
 body, who has had any conversation with his neighbours, will 
 question : though he never was at Westminster-Hall or the 
 Exchange on the one hand, or at Alms-houses or Bedlam on 
 the other. Which great difierence in men's intellectuals, 
 whether it rises from any defect in the organs of the body, 
 particularly adapted to thinking; or in the dulness or un- 
 tractableness of those faculties for want of use ; or, as some 
 think, in the natural differences of men's souls themselves; 
 oi' some, or all of these together; it matters not here to exa- 
 mine: only this is e^ddent, that there is a difference of de- 
 grees in men's understandings, apprehensions, and reasonings, 
 to so great a latitude, that one may, wthout doing injmy to 
 mankind, affirm, that there is a greater distance between 
 some men and others in this resjject, than between some men 
 and some beasts. But how this comes about is a speculation, 
 though of great consequence, yet not necessary to our present 
 purpose. 
 
 6. III. Want of Will to use tliem. — Thirdly, There are an- 
 other sort of people that want proofs, not because they are 
 out of their reach, but because they will not use theni ; who, 
 though they have riches and leisure enough, and want neither 
 parts nor other helps, are yet never the better for them. 
 Their hot pui'suit of pleasure, or constant drudgery in busi- 
 ness, engages some men's thoughts elsewhere: laziness and 
 oscitancy in general, or a particular aversion for books, study, 
 and meditation, keep others from any serious thoughts at all ; 
 and some out of fear that an impartial inquiry would not 
 favour those opinions which best suit their prejudices, lives, 
 and designs, content themselves, without examination, to 
 take upon trust what they find convenient and in fashion. 
 Thus, most men, even of those that might do otherwise, pass 
 their lives without an acquaintance with, much less a rational 
 assent to, probabilities they are concerned to know, though
 
 326 OP HUMAK UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV 
 
 they lie so ranch A\'ithin their view, that, to be convinced of 
 them, they need Init turn their eyes that way. We know 
 some men will not read a letter which is supposed to bring ill 
 news; and many men forbear to cast np their accounts, or so 
 much as think upon their estates, who have reason to fear 
 their affairs are in no very good posture. How men, whose 
 i:)lentifui fortunes allow them leisure to improve their under- 
 standings, can satisfy themselves with a lazy ignorance, I 
 cannot tell : but methinks they have a low opinion of their 
 souls, who lay oiit all their incomes in provisions for the 
 body, and employ none of it to procure the means and helps 
 of knowledge; who take great care to appear always in a 
 neat and splendid outside, and would think themselves mise- 
 rable in coarse clothes, or a patched coat, and yet contentedly 
 suffer their minds to appear abroad in a piebald liveiy of 
 coarse patches and borrowed shreds, such as it has pleased 
 chance or their country tailor (I mean the common opinion 
 of those they have conversed with) to clothe them in. I will 
 not here mention how unreasonable this is for men that ever 
 think of a futm-e state and their concernment in it, which 
 no rational man can avoid to do sometimes : nor shall I take 
 notice what a shame and confusion it is to the greatest con- 
 temners of knowledge, to be found ignorant in things they 
 are concerned to know. But this at least is worth the con- 
 sideration of those who call themselves gentlemen, that, how- 
 ever they may think credit, respect, power, and authority 
 the concomitants of their birth and fortune, yet they will 
 find all these still carried away from them by men of lower 
 condition, who surpass them in knowledge. They who are 
 blind will always be led by those that see, or else fall into 
 the ditch: and he is certainly the most subjected, the most 
 enslaved, who is so in his understanding. In the foregoing 
 instances some of the causes have been shown of wrong 
 assent, and how it comes to pass, that probable, doctrines are 
 not always received with an assent proportionable to the 
 reasons which are to be had for their probability: but 
 hitherto we have considered only such probabilities whose 
 proofs do exist, but do not appear to him who embraces 
 the error. 
 
 7. IV. Wrong Measures of Prohahility ; loliereof: — Fourthly, 
 There remains yet the last sort, who, even where the real pro-
 
 CHAP. XX.] WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR. 327 
 
 babilities appear, and ai-e plainly laid before them, do not 
 admit of the conviction, nor yield iinto manifest reasons, but 
 do either tTrextti' , suspend their assent, or give it to the less 
 probable opinion. And to this danger are those exposed 
 who have taken up wrong measures of probability ; which are, 
 I. Propositions that are not in themselves certain and 
 evident, but doubtful and false, taken up for principles. 
 II. Received hypothesis. 
 
 III. Predominant passions or inclinations 
 
 lY. Authority. 
 
 8. I. Douhtfui FrojJositions taken for Pnndiyles. — First, 
 The first and firmest ground of probability is the conformity 
 anything has to our own knowledge, especially that part of 
 our knowledge which we have embraced, and continue to 
 look on as principles. These have so great an influence upon 
 our opinions, that it is' usually by them we judge of truth, and 
 measure probability to that degi'ee, that what is incon- 
 sistent with our principles, is so far from passing for pro- 
 bable with us, that it will not be allowed possible. The 
 reverence borne to these principles is so great, and their autho- 
 rity so jjaramount to all other, that the testimony, not only 
 of other men, but the evidence of our own senses are often 
 rejected, when they ofier to vouch anything contrary to these 
 established rules. How much the doctrine of innate princi- 
 ples, and that principles are not to be proved or questioned, 
 has contributed to this, I will not here examine. This I 
 readily grant, that one trvith cannot contradict another : but 
 withal I take leave also to say, that every one -ought very 
 carefully to beware what he admits for a principle, to ex- 
 amine it strictly, and see whether he certainly knows it to be 
 true of itself by its own evidence, or whether he does only 
 wdth assurance believe it to be so upon the authority of 
 others. For he hath a strong bias put into his understanding, 
 which will unavoidably misguide his assent, who hath im- 
 bibed wrong principles, and has blindly given himself up to 
 the authority of any opinion in itself not evidently true. 
 
 9. There is nothing more ordinary than children's re- 
 ceiving into their minds propositions (especially about matters 
 of religion) from theii' parents, nurses, or those about them ; 
 which being insinuated into their unwary as well as un- 
 biassed understandings, and fastened by degrees, are at last
 
 328 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV 
 
 (equally whether true or false) riveted there by long custom 
 and education, beyond all possibility of being pulled out 
 again. For men, when they are grown up, reflecting uj^on 
 their opinions, and finding those of this sort to be as ancient 
 in then- minds as their very memories, not having obsei-ved 
 their early insinuation, nor by what means they got them, 
 they are apt to reverence them as sacred things, and not to 
 sufi'er them to be profaned, touched, or questioned : they look 
 on them as the Urim and Thummim set up in their minds 
 immediately by God himself, to be the great and unen-ing 
 deciders of truth and falsehood, and the judges to which they 
 are to appeal in all manner of controversies. 
 
 10. This opinion of his principles (let them be what they 
 will) being once established in any one's mind, it is easy to 
 be imagined what reception any proposition shall find — how 
 clearly soever proved — that shall invalidate their authority, 
 or at all thwart with these internal oracles; whereas the 
 grossest absurdities and imj^robabilities, being but agreeable 
 to such principles, go down glibly, and are easily digested. 
 The great obstinacy that is to be found in men fii-mly be- 
 lieving quite contrary opinions, though many times equally 
 absui'd, in the various religions of mankind, are as evident a 
 pi-oof as they are an unavoidable consequence of this way of 
 reasoning from received traditional principles. So that men 
 will disbelieve their own eyes, renounce the evidence of their 
 senses, and give their own experience the lie, rather than 
 admit of anything disagi'eeing with these sacred tenets. Take 
 an intelligent Romanist that, from the first dawning of any 
 notions in his understanding, hath had this principle con- 
 stantly inculcated, viz., that he must believe as the chui'ch (i. e., 
 those of his communion) believes, or that the pope is in- 
 fallible; and this he never so much as heard questioned, till 
 at forty or fifty years old he met with one of other prin- 
 ciples : how is he prepared easily to swallow, not only against 
 all probability, but even the clear evidence of his senses, the 
 doctrine of transubstantiation ? This principle has such an 
 influence on his mind, that -he will believe that to be flesh 
 which he sees to be bread. And what way will you take to 
 convince a man of any improbable opinion he holds, who, 
 with some philosophers, hath laid do%vn this as a foundation 
 of reasoning, that he must believe his reason (for so men im-
 
 CHAP. XX.] WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR. 329 
 
 properly call arguments drawn from theii- principles) against 
 his senses? Let an enthusiast be principled that he or his 
 teacher is inspired, and acted * by an immediate communi- 
 cation of the Divine Spii'it, and you in vain bring the 
 evidence of clear reasons against his doctrine. Whoever, 
 therefore, have imbibed wi-oug principles, are not, in things 
 inconsistent with these principles, to be moved by the most 
 apparent and convincing probabilities, till they are so candid 
 and ingenuous to themselves, as to be persuaded to examine 
 even those very principles, which many never suffer them- 
 selves to do. 
 
 11. II. Received HypotJiesis. — Secondly, Next to these are 
 men whose understandings are cast into a mould, and 
 fashioned just to the size of a received hypothesis. The 
 difference between these and the former, is, that they will 
 admit of matter of fact, and agree with dissenters in that; 
 but differ only in assigning of reasons and explaining the 
 manner of operation. These are not at that open defiance 
 with their senses, with the former : they can endure to hearken 
 to their information a little more patiently; but will by no 
 means admit of their reports in the explanation of things; 
 nor be prevailed on by probabilities, which would convince 
 them that things are not brought about just after the same 
 manner that they have decreed within themselves that they 
 are. Would it not be an insufferable thing for a learned 
 professor, and that which his scarlet would blush at, to have 
 his authority of forty years standing, wrought out of hard 
 rock, Greek and Latin, with no small expense of time and 
 candle, and confirmed by general tradition and a reverend 
 beard, in an instant overturned by an upstart novelist? Can 
 any one expect that he should be made to confess, that 
 what he taught his scholars thirty years ago was all error and 
 mistake ; and that he sold them hard words and ignorance at 
 a very dear rate.t What probabilities, I say, are sufficient 
 
 * That is, actuated. — Ed. 
 
 t The reader who is acquainted with that very philosophical work, the 
 Adventures of Gil Bias, of Santillane, will doubtless recollect a practical 
 illustration of the reluctance which men usually feel to give up any opi- 
 nions which they have once acknowledged to be their own, even though 
 their adhering to them should cost the lives and happiness of half their 
 neighbours. But in case any one should have forgotten it, and not have 
 the volume at hand, he may not be displeased to find it here. " ' Sir,
 
 330 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 to prevail in such a easel And whoever, by the most cogent 
 arguments, wUl be prevailed with to disrobe himself at once 
 of all his old opinions, and pretences to knowledge and 
 learmng, which with hard study he hath all his time been 
 laboui'mg for; and turn laimself out stark naked, in quest 
 afresh of new notions] All the arguments that can be used 
 will be as little al)le to prevail, as the wind did with the trar 
 veller to part with his cloak, which he held only the faster.* ' 
 
 (said T, one evening to Dr. Sangrado, ) I take heaven to witness that I 
 follow your method with the utmost exactness : yet, every one of my 
 patients leave me in the lurch. It looks as if they took a pleasure in 
 dying, merely to bring our practice into discredit. This very day I met 
 two of them going to their long home.' 'Why, truly, child,' answered 
 he, ' I have reason to make pretty much the same observation : I have 
 not often the satisfaction of curing those who fall into my hands ; and if 
 I was not so sure as I am of the piinciples on which I proceed, I should 
 think my principles were pernicious in almost all the cases that come 
 under my care.' ' If you will take my advice, sir, ' said I, ' we will change 
 our method, and give chemical preparations to our patients, through 
 curiosity : the worst that can happen will only be, that they produce the 
 same effect that follows our bleedings and warm water.' ' I would wil- 
 lingly make the experiment,' he replied, ' provided it could have no bad 
 consequence ; but I have published a book, in which I have extolled the 
 use of frequent bleeding and aqueous draughts : and wouldst thou have 
 me go and deny my own work ? ' ' Oh ! you are certainly in the right,' 
 said I, ' you must not give your enemies such a triumph over you ; they 
 would say you are at last disabused ; and therefore ruin your reputation ; 
 perish rather the nobility, clergy, and people ! and let us continue in our 
 old path. After all, our brother doctors, notwithstanding their aversion 
 for bleeding, perform as few mu-acles as we do ; and I belie \^e their di-ugs 
 are no better than our specifics. We went to work, therefore, afresh, 
 and proceeded in such a manner, that, in less than six weeks, we made 
 more widows and orphans than the seige of Troy." (t. ii. c. 5.) — Ed. 
 
 * This will doubtless bring to the reader's mind that exquisite fable of 
 La Fontaine's, in which, while relating " une conte d'une vielle femme," 
 he presents us with two charming pictures of external nature, full of as 
 true poetry as is to be found in any language. 
 " Notre soufSeur k gage 
 
 Se gorge de vapeurs, s'enfle comme un balon, 
 Fait un vacaime de d^mon 
 
 Siffle, souffle, tempete, et brise en son passage 
 
 Maint toit qui n'en pent mais, peur fait maint bateau 
 Le tout au sujet d'un manteau. 
 
 Le cavalier eut soin d'empecher que forage, 
 Ne se pM engouffler dedans. 
 
 Cela le preserva. Le vent perdit son temps ; 
 
 Plus il se tourmentois, plus il tenois ferme, 
 
 II eut beau faire agir le collet et les plis.
 
 CHAP. XX.] WRONG ASSE^'T, OR ERROR. 331 
 
 To this of WTong hyiiothesis may be reduced the errors that 
 may be occasioned by a true hypothesis, or riglit j^rinciples, 
 but not rightly understood. There is nothing more familiar 
 than this. The instances of men contending for different 
 opinions, which they all derive from the infallible truth of 
 the Scriptm-e, are an undeniable proof of it. All that call 
 themselves Christians, allow the text that says, fiiTavoiin, 
 to carry in it the obligation to a very weighty duty. But 
 yet how veiy erroneous will one of their practices be, who, 
 understanding nothing but the French, take this rule with 
 one translation to be, " Repentez-vous," repent ; or with the 
 other, " Faitiez penitence," do penance. 
 
 12. III. Predominant Passions. — Thirdly, Probabilities 
 which cross men's appetites and prevailing passions, rim the 
 same fate. Let ever so much probability hang on one side 
 of a covetous man's reasoning, and money on the other ; it is 
 easy to foresee which -will outweigh. Earthly minds, like 
 nmd walls, resist the strongest batteries : and though, per- 
 haps, sometimes the force of a clear argument may make 
 some impression, yet they nevertheless stand finn, and keep out 
 the enemy, tnith, that would captivate or disturb them. Tell 
 a man passionately in love, that he is jilted; bring a score of 
 witnesses of the falsehood of his mistress, it is ten to one but 
 three kind words of hers shall invalidate all their testimonies. 
 " Quod volumus, facile credimus ;" what suits our wishes, is 
 forwardly believed ; is, I suppose, what every one hath more 
 than once experimented: and though men cannot always 
 openly gainsay or resist the force of manifest probabilities 
 that make against them, yet yield they not to the argument. 
 Not but that it is the nature of the understanding constantly 
 to close with the more probable side; but yet a man hath a 
 power to suspend and restrain its inquiries, and not permit 
 a full and satisfactory examination, as far as the matter in 
 question is capable, and will bear it to be made. Until that 
 
 Sitot qu'il fut au bout du terme 
 
 Qu'h. la gageure on avoit mis, 
 
 Le soleil dissipe la nue, 
 Recr^e et puis penetre enfin le cavalier, 
 
 Sous son balandras fait qu'il sue 
 
 Le contraint de s'en depouiller: 
 Encore n'usa-t il pas de toute sa puissance, 
 
 Plus fait douceur que violence. " (L. vi. fab. 3.) — Ed.
 
 332 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 be done, there "will be always these two ways left of evading 
 the most apparent probabilities. 
 
 13. The. Means of evading Probabilities: I. Supposed 
 Fallacy. — First, That the arguments being (as for the most 
 part they are) brought in words, there may be a fallacy latent 
 in them : and the consequences being, perhaps, many in train, 
 they may be some of them incoherent. There are veiy few 
 discourses so short, clear, and consistent, to which most men 
 may not, with satisfaction enough to themselves, raise this 
 doubt; and from whose conviction they may not, without 
 reproach of disingenuity or unreasonableness, set themselves 
 free with the old reply, "Non persuadebis, etiamsi persua- 
 seris;" though I cannot answer, I will not yield. 
 
 14. II. Supposed Arguments for the contrary. — Secondly, 
 Manifest probabilities may be evaded, and the assent with- 
 held upon this su'ggestion, that I know not yet all that may 
 be said on the contrary side. And therefore, though I be 
 beaten, it is not necessary I should yield, not knowing what 
 forces there are in reserve behind. This is a refuge against 
 conviction so open and so wide, that it is hard to determine 
 when a man is quite out of the verge of it. 
 
 15. Wliat Probabilities determine the Assent. — But yet 
 there is some end of it ; and a man having carefully inquired 
 into all the grounds of jjrobability and unlikeliness, done his 
 utmost to inform himself in all particulars fairly, and cast 
 up the sum total on both sides; may, in most cases, come to 
 acknowledge, upon the whole matter, on which side the pro- 
 bability rests : wherein some proofs in matter of reason, being 
 suppositions upon universal experience, are so cogent and 
 clear, and some testimonies in matter of fact so universal, 
 that he cannot refuse his assent. So that I think we may 
 conclude, that, in propositions, where though the proofs in 
 view are of most moment, yet there are sufficient grounds 
 to suspect that there is either fallacy in words, or certain 
 proofs as considerable to be produced on the contraiy side; 
 there assent, suspense, or dissent, are often voluntary ac- 
 tions : but where the proofs are siich as make it highly pro- 
 bable, and there is not sufficient groimd to suspect that there 
 is either fallacy of words (which sober and serious consider- 
 ation may discover) nor equally valid proofs yet undiscovered, 
 latent on the other side; (which also the nature of the thing
 
 CHAP. XX.] WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR. 333 
 
 may, in some cases, make j^lain to a considerate man;) there, 
 I think, a man who has weighed them can scarce refuse his 
 assent to the side on which the gi'eater probability appears. 
 Whether it be j^roliable that a promiscuous jumble of print- 
 ing letters should often fall into a method and order, which 
 should stamp on paper a coherent discourse;* or that a 
 blind fortuitous concourse of atoms, not guided by an un- 
 derstanding agent, should frequently constitute the bodies of 
 ■ any sjjecies of animals ; in these and the like cases, I think, 
 nobody that considers them can be one jot at a stand which 
 side to take, nor at all waver in his assent. Lastly, when 
 there can be no supposition (the thing in its own nature 
 indifferent, and wholly depending upon the testimony of 
 witnesses) that there is as fair testimony against, as for the 
 matter of fact attested ; which by inquiry is to be learned, 
 V. g., whether there was one thousand seven hmidi'ed years 
 ago such a man at Rome as Julius Caesar: in all such cases, 
 I say, I think it is not in any rational man's power to refuse 
 his assent; but that it necessarily follows, and closes with 
 such probabilities. In other less clear cases, I think it is 
 in man's power to suspend his assent; and perhaps content 
 himself with the proofs he has, if they favour the opinion 
 that suits with his inclination or interest, and so stop from 
 
 * When Locke wrote the above sentence he had probably in his mind 
 a very eloquent and curious passage in Cicero, where he makes use of 
 much the same illustration in treating of the same subject. " Hie ego 
 non mirer esse quemquam, qui sibi persuadeat, corpora qusedam solida, 
 atque individua, vi et gravitate ferri, mundumque effici omatissimum et 
 pulcherrimum ex eorum corporum concursione fortuita? Hoc qui existi- 
 mat fieri potuisse, non intelligo, cur non idem putet, si innumerabiles 
 unius et viginti formse litterai-um vel aureas, vel quales hbet, aUqu6 con- 
 jiciantur, posse ex his in terram excussis annales Ennii, ut deinceps legi 
 possint, effici : quod nescio an ne in uno quidem versu possit tantum 
 valere fortuna. Isti autem quemadmodum asseverant ex corpusculis 
 non colore, non quahtate aliqua quam ■troi6Tr)Ta Grfeci vocant, non sensu 
 prseditis sed concurrentibus temerfe atque casu, mimdum esse perfectum? 
 vel innumerabiles potius in omni puncto temporis alios nasci, alios in- 
 terirel Qubd si mundum efficere potest concursus atomorum, cur por- 
 ticum, cur templum, cur domum, cur urbem non potest? quae sunt 
 minus operosa et multo quidem facihora." (De Nat. Deo. ii. 37.) It 
 has heen thought, as the Abbe d'Olivet observes on this passage, that it 
 must have led to the discovery of the art of printing ; and certainly if 
 they were altogether ignorant of the invention, they had at least ap- 
 proached the very brink of it. — Ed.
 
 334 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAUDTNG. [bOOK IV. 
 
 further search. But that a man should afford his asseut to 
 that side on which the less j^robability appears to him, seems to 
 me utterly impracticable, and as impossible as it is to believe 
 the same thing probable and improbable at the same time. 
 
 16. Where it is in our Power to suspend it. — As knowledge 
 is no more arbitrary than perception ; so, I think, assent 
 is no more in our power than knowledge. When the 
 agreement of any two ideas appears to our minds, whether 
 immediately or by the assistance of reason, I can no more 
 refuse to perceive, no more avoid knowing it, than I can 
 avoid seeing those objects which 1 turn my eyes to, and look 
 on in daylight; and what upon full examination I find the 
 most probable, I cannot deny my assent to. But though 
 we cannot hinder oui' knowledge, whei'e the agreement is 
 once perceived, nor our assent, where the probability mani- 
 festly appears upon due consideration of all the measures of 
 it ; yet we can hinder both knowledge and assent, by stop- 
 ping our inquiry, and not employing our faculties in the 
 search of any truth. If it were not so, ignorance, error, or 
 infidelity, could not in any case be a fault. Thus, in some 
 cases we can prevent or suspend our assent; but can a man 
 versed in modem or ancient history doubt whether there 
 is such a place as Rome, or whether there was such a man 
 as Julius CjBsar? Indeed, there are millions of truths that 
 a man is not, or may not think himself concerned to know ; 
 as whether our king Richard the Third was crooked or no; 
 or whether Roger Bacon was a mathematician or a magician. 
 In these and such like cases, where the assent one way or 
 other is of no importance to the interest of any one; no 
 action, no concernment of his following or depending there- 
 on; there it is not strange that the mind should give itself 
 up to the common opinion, or render itself to the first comer. 
 These and the like opinions are of so little weight and mo- 
 ment, that, like motes in the sun, their tendencies are very 
 rarely taken notice of They are there, as it were, by chance, 
 and the mind lets them float at liberty. But where the 
 mind judges that the proposition has concernment in it: 
 where the assent or not assenting is thought to draw con- 
 sequences of moment after it, and good and evil to depend 
 on choosing or refusing the right side; and the mind sets 
 itself seriously to inquire and examine the probability ; there
 
 CHAP. XX.] WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR, 335 
 
 I think it is not in our choice to take which side we please, 
 if manifest odds appeal* on either. The greater probability, 
 I think, in that case will determine the assent; and a man 
 can no more avoid assenting, or taking it to be true, where 
 he perceives the greater probability, than he can avoid know- 
 ing it to be true, where he pei'ceives the agreement or dis- 
 agreement of any two ideas. 
 
 If this be so, the foundation of error will lie in wrong 
 measui-es of probability; as the foundation of vice in wrong 
 measures of good. 
 
 17. IV. Authority. — Fourthly, The fourth and last wrong 
 measui'e of probability I shall take notice of, and which keeps 
 in ignorance or error more people than all the other togetlier, 
 is that which I have mentioned in the foregoing chapter ; I 
 mean the giving up our assent to the common received opi- 
 nions, either of oiu- friends or party, neighbourhood or country. 
 How many men have no other ground for their tenets, than 
 the supposed honesty, or learning, or number of those of the 
 same profession? As if honest or bookish men could not 
 err, or truth were to be established by the vote of the mid- 
 titude; yet this with most men serves the turn. The tenet 
 has had the attestation of reverend antiquity; it comes to 
 me with the passport of former ages, and therefore I am 
 seciu-e in the reception I give it; other men have been and 
 are of the same opinion, (for that is all is said,) and therefore 
 it is reasonable for me to embrace it. A man may more 
 justifiably throw up cross and pile for his opinions, than take 
 them up by such measures. All men are liable to error, 
 and most men are in many points, by passion or interest, 
 under temptation to it. If we could but see the secret mo- 
 tives that influenced the men of name and learning in the 
 wprld, and the leaders of jiarties, we should not always find 
 that it was the embracing of truth for its own sake, that 
 made them espouse the doctrines they owned and maintained. 
 This at least is certain, there is not an opinion so absurd, 
 which a man may not receive upon this ground; there is no 
 error to be named, which has not had its professors: and 
 a man shall never want crooked jmths to walk in, if he thinks 
 that he is in the right way, wherever he has the footsteps 
 of others to follow. 
 
 18. Men not in so many Errors as imagined. — But, not- 
 withstanding the great noise is made in the world about
 
 336 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 
 
 eiTors and opinions, I miist do mankind that right, as to say 
 there are not so many men in errors and wrong opinions as 
 is commonly supposed. Not that I think they embrace the 
 truth; but indeed, because concerning those doctrines they 
 keep such a stir about, they have no thought, no opinion at 
 all. For if any one should a little catechise the greatest 
 part of the partizans of most of the sects in the world, he 
 would not find, concerning those matters they are so zealous 
 for, that they have any opinions of their own; much less 
 would he have reason to think that they took them v.pon 
 the examination of arguments and ajipearance of pi-obability. 
 They are resolved to stick to a party that education or 
 interest has engaged them in; and there, like the common 
 soldiers of an army, show their courage and warmth as their 
 leaders direct, without ever examining or so much as knowing 
 the cause they contend for. If a man's life shows that he 
 has no serious regard for religion; for what reason should 
 we think that he beats his head about the opinions of his 
 church, and troubles himself to examine the grounds of this 
 or that doctrine? It is enough for him to obey his leaders, 
 to have his hand and his tongue ready for the support of 
 the common cause, and thereby approve himself to those 
 who can give him credit, preferment, or protection in that 
 society."' Thus men become professors of, and combatants 
 for, those opinions they were never convinced of nor prose- 
 lytes to; no, nor ever had so much as floating in their heads; 
 and though one cannot say there are fewer improbable or 
 erroneous opinions in the world than there are, yet it is cer- 
 tain there are fewer that actually assent to them and mistake 
 them for truth than is imagined. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 OF THE DIVISION OF THE SCIENCES. 
 
 1. Three Sorts. — All that can fall wit'hiu the compass of 
 human understanding, beiag either, First, the nature of things, 
 
 * Milton has drawn a lively and admirable picture of a character of 
 this kind, in which he is, if possible, still more sarcastic than Locke. 
 " A wealthy man," he says, " addicted to his pleasure and to his pro- 
 fits, finds religion to be a traffic, so entangled, and of so many piddling 
 accounts, that of all mysteries he cannot skill to keep a stock going upon 
 that trade. What should he do ? Fain he would have the name to be 
 religious, fain he would bear up with his neighbour in that. What does 
 he, therefore, but resolves to give over toiling, and to find himself out
 
 CHAP. XXI.] DIVISION OF THE SCIENCES. 337 
 
 as they are in themselves, their relations, and their manner 
 of operation; or. Secondly, that which man himself ought to 
 do, as a rational and voluntary agent, for the attainment of 
 any end, especially happiness ; or. Thirdly, the ways and 
 means whei'eby the knowledge of both the one and the other 
 of these is attained and communicated : I think science may 
 be divided properly into these three sorts, 
 
 2. I. Physica. — Fii'st, The knowledge of things, as they 
 are in their own pi-oper beings, their constitution, properties, 
 and operations ; whereby I mean not only matter and body, 
 but spirits also, which have their proper natures, constitu- 
 tions, and operations, as well as bodies. This, in a little 
 more enlarged sense of the word, I call ^vaiKV), or natural 
 philosophy. The end of this is bare speculative truth; and 
 whatsoever can afford the mind of man any such, falls under 
 this branch, whether it be God himself, angels, spirits, bodies, 
 or any of their affections, as number, and figure, &c. 
 
 3. II. Practica. — Secondly, HpaKri/c>}, the skill of right ap- 
 2:)lying oiu- own powers and actions, for the attainment of 
 things good and useful. The most considerable under this 
 head is ethics, which is the seeking out those rules and measures 
 of human actions, which lead to happiness, and the means to 
 practise them. The end of this is not bare speculation and the 
 knowledge of truth, but right, and a conduct suitable to it. 
 
 4. III. '27]fiiio)riK)). — Thirdly, The third branch may be 
 called XnfiiiwTiKt), or the doctrine of signs ; the most usual 
 whereof being words, it is aptly enough termed also Aoyi/c/), 
 logic ; the business whereof is to consider the nature of signs, 
 
 some factor, to whose care and credit he may commit the whole manag- 
 ing of his religious affairs ; some divine of note and estimation that must 
 be. To him he adheres, resigns the whole warehouse of his religion, 
 with all the locks and keys into his custody ; and indeed makes the very 
 pei-son of that man his religion ; esteems his associatmg with him a suffi- 
 cient evidence and commendatoiy of his own piety. So that a man may 
 say his religion is now no more within himself, but is become a dividual 
 movable, and goes and comes near him, according as that good man 
 frequents the house. He entertains him, gives hmi gifts, feasts him, 
 lodges him ; his religion comes home at night, prays, is liberally supped, 
 and sumptuously laid to sleep ; rises, is saluted, and after the malmsey, 
 or some well-spiced beverage, and better breakfasted than he whose 
 morning appetite would have gladly fed on green figs between Bethany 
 and .Jerusalem ; his religion walks abroad at eiglit, and leaves his kind 
 entertainer in the shop, trading all day without his religion." (Areo- 
 pag. § 55.) — Ed. 
 
 VOL. II. Z
 
 338 OF HUM AX UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV, 
 
 the mind makes use of for tlie understanding of things, or 
 conveying its knowledge to others. For since the things the 
 mind contemplates are none of tliem, besides itself, present 
 to the undei-standing, it is necessary that something else, as 
 a sign or rejjresentation of the thing it considers, should be 
 present to it ; and these are ideas. And because the scene 
 of ideas that makes one man's thoughts cannot be laid open 
 to the immediate view of another, nor laid up anywhere but 
 in the memory, a no very sure repository; therefore to com- 
 mvinicate our thoughts to one another, as well as record 
 them for our own use, signs of our ideas are also necessary. 
 Those which men have found most convenient, and therefore 
 generally make use of, are articulate soimds. The consider- 
 ation, then, of ideas and words, as the great instniments of 
 knowledge, makes no despicable part of their contemplation 
 who would take a view of human knowledge in the whole 
 extent of it. And perhaps if they were distinctly weighed, and 
 duly considered, they wotdd afford us another sort of logic and 
 critic,* than what we have been hitherto acquainted with. 
 
 5. This is tJie first Division of the Objects of Knowledge. — 
 This seems to me the fii'st and most general, as well as 
 natural division of the objects of oiu* understanding. For a 
 man can employ his thoughts about nothing, but either the 
 contemplation of things themselves for the discovery of truth ; 
 or about the things in his own power, which are his own 
 actions, for the attainment of his own ends; or the signs 
 the mind makes use of both in the one and the other, and 
 the right ordering of them for its clearer information. All 
 which three, viz., things, as they are in themselves knowable ; 
 actions as they depend on us, in order to happiness ; and 
 the right use of signs in order to knowledge, being toto ccelo 
 different, they seemed to me to be the three great provinces 
 of the intellectual world, wholly separate and distinct one 
 from another. 
 
 * Criticism. — Ed. 
 
 END OF ESSAT ON HUMAN UNDERSTANDING.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 CONTROVERSY WITH THE BISHOP OF WORCESTER. 
 
 [It was originally my intention to reprint the whole of tliose Letters of 
 Locke which were addressed to the Bishop of Worcester, on the subject 
 of the Essay on the Human Understanding. But upon a more diligent 
 examination of those compositions, I found there was much in them 
 which could scarcely he denominated philosophical, containing matter 
 merely of temporary interest, or turning upon points appertaining solely 
 to the disputants themselves. There are, nevertheless, several passages 
 in those letters, which, because they throw some light on topics discussed 
 in the Essay on the Human Understanding, have usually been subjoined 
 as notes to that work. It has been judged more advisable in the present 
 edition, to introduce them by way of AppendLx ; first, that they might 
 not interfere with the New Notes ; and secondly, because they will pro- 
 bably be read with more advantage where they now stand. 
 
 I would not, by what has been said above, be understood to detract 
 from the merit of the Letters to the Bishop of Worcester, which may in 
 themselves be regarded as models of controversial writing ; but the veiy 
 nature of the dispute often led Locke over the ground which he had pre- 
 viously trodden in his Essay, and compelled him to repeat diffusely and 
 hurriedly, what he had there stated in a briefer and more masterly 
 manner. In itself, moreover, his style of correspondence is too volu- 
 minous ; not, perhaps, through any aversion of his for brevity, but 
 because of his earnest anxiety not to betray the cause of truth from the 
 apprehension of growing tedious. But the taste of the present age is 
 intolerant, at least in what relates to truth and philosophy. We read 
 no page of a book with so much pleasure as the last, because too fre- 
 quently we read to boast of it as an achievement rather than to profit by 
 it as an exercise. For this reason, most persons will probably be content 
 with those portions of Locke's correspondence with the Bishop of Wor- 
 cester which are here given. They will perceive with how great dex- 
 terity he defends himself from the assaults of his adversary, and how 
 triumphantly he establishes the important truths laid down with modest 
 dogmatism in his great system of philosophy. Should any one, from 
 these specimens, desire to read more, he may congratulate himself upon his 
 own taste and judgment, which will at least incite him to a careful perusal 
 of the minor treatises bequeathed us by the great philosopher. — Ed.] 
 
 No. I.— Vol. I. p. 134, par. 8. 
 
 This modest apology of our author could not procure him the free 
 use of the word idea: but great offence has been taken at it, and 
 it has been censured as of dangerous consequence : to which you may 
 
 z2
 
 340 APPENDIX. 
 
 see what he answers. "The world,"* saith the Bishop of Worcester, 
 ' ' hath been strangely amused with ideas of late ; and we ha\fe been 
 told that strange things might be done by the help of ideas, and yet 
 these ideas, at last, come to be only common notions of things, which 
 we must make use of in our reasoning. You (i. e., the author of the 
 Essay concerning Human Understanding) say in that chapter about 
 the existence of Grod, you thought it most proper to express yourself in 
 the most usual and familiar way, by common words and expressions. I 
 would you had done so quite through your book ; for then you had never 
 given that occasion to the enemies of our faith, to take up your new way 
 of ideas, as an effectual battery (as they imagined) against the mysteries 
 of the Christian faith. But you might have enjoyed the satisfaction of 
 your ideas long enough before I had taken notice of them, unless I had 
 found them employed about doing mischief." 
 
 To which our author replies : t " It is plain that that which your lord- 
 ship apprehends in my book may be of dangerous consequence to the article 
 which your lordship has endeavoured to defend, is my introducing new 
 terms: and that which your lordship instances in, is that of ideas. 
 And the reason that your lordship gives in every of these places why your 
 lordship has such an apprehension of ideas, that they may be of dan- 
 gerous consequence to that article of faith which your lordship has en- 
 deavoured to defend, is, because they have been applied to such purposes. 
 And I might (your lordship says) have enjoyed the satisfaction of my 
 ideas long enough, before you had taken notice of them, unless your 
 lordship had found them employed in doing mischief. Which, at last, 
 as I humbly conceive, amounts to thus much, and no more, viz., that 
 your lordship fears ideas, i. c, the term ideas, may some tune or other 
 prove of very dangerous consequence to what your lordship has endea- 
 voured to defend, because they have been made use of in arguing against 
 it. For I am sure your lordship does not mean, that you apprehend the 
 things signified by ideas, may be of dangerous consequence to the article 
 of faith your lordship endeavours to defend, because they have been 
 made use of against it : for (besides that your lordship mentions terms) 
 that would be to expect that those who oppose that article should oppose 
 it without any thoughts ; for the things signified by ideas, are nothing 
 but the immediate objects of our minds in thinking : so that unless any 
 one can oppose the article your lordship defends, without thinking on 
 something, he must use the thing signified by ideas; for he that thinks, 
 must have some immediate object of his mind in thinking: i. e., must 
 have ideas. 
 
 ' ' But whether it be the name or the thing ; ideas in sound, or ideas 
 in signification ; that your lordship apprehends may be of danger«us 
 consequence to that article of faith which your lordship endeavours to 
 defend ; it seems to me, I will not say a new way of reasoning, (for that 
 belongs to me,) but were it not your lordship's, I should think it a very 
 extraordinary way of reasoning to write against a book wherein your 
 lordship acknowledges they are not used to bad purposes nor employed 
 to do mischief; only because you find that ideas are, by those who 
 
 * Answer to Mr. Locke's First Letter. 
 
 + In his Second Letter to the Bishop of Worcester.
 
 APPENDIX. 341 
 
 oppose your lordship, employed to do mischief; and to apprehend they 
 may be of dangerous consequence to the article your lordship has engaged 
 in the defence of. For whether ideas as terms, or ideas as the imme- 
 diate objects of the minrl, signified by those terms, may be, in your 
 lordship's apprehension, of dangerous consequence to that article ; 1 do 
 not see bow your lordship's writing against the notions of ideas, as stated 
 in my book, will at all hinder your opposers from employing them in 
 doing mischief, as before. 
 
 "However, be that as it will, so it is, that your lordship apprehends 
 these new terms, these ideas, with which the world hath of late been so 
 strangely amused, (though at last they come to be only common notions 
 of things, as your lordship owns,) may be of dangerous consequence to 
 that article. 
 
 "My lord, if any, in answer to your lordship's sermons, and in other 
 pamphlets, wherein your lordship complains they have talked so much 
 of ideas, have been troublesome to your lordship with that term ; it is 
 not strange that your lordship should be tired with that sound ; but how- 
 natural soever it be to our weak constitutions, to be offended with any 
 sound wherewith an importunate din hatn been made about our ears ; 
 yet, my lord, I know your lordship has a better opinion of the articles of 
 our faith, than to think any of them can be overturned, or so much as 
 shaken, with a breath formed into any sound or term whatsoever. 
 
 " Names are the arbitrary marks of conception ; and so they be suffi- 
 ciently appropriated to them in their use, T know no other difference 
 any of them have in particular but as they are of easj' or difficult pro- 
 nunciation, and of a more or less pleasant sound ; and what particular 
 antipathies there may be in men, to some of them upon that account, 
 it is not easy to be foreseen. This I am sure, no term whatsoever, in 
 itself, bears, one more than another, any opposition to the truth of any 
 kind ; they are only propositions that do or can oppose the truth of any 
 article or doctrine : and thus no term is privileged from being set in 
 opposition to truth. 
 
 " Tliere is no word to be found, which may not be brought into a 
 proposition, wherein the most sacred and most evident truths may be 
 ppposed: but that is not a fault in the term, but him that uses it. 
 And therefore I cannot easily persuade mj-self (whatever your lordship 
 hath said in the heat of your concern) that you have bestowed so much 
 pains upon ray book because the word idea is so much used there. For 
 though upon my saying, in my chapter about the existence of God, 
 ' that I scarce use the word idea in that chapter, ' your lordship wi.shes 
 that I had done so quite through my book. Yet I must rather look 
 upon that as a compliment to me, wherein your lordship wished that my 
 book had been all through suited to vulgar readers, not used to that and 
 the like tenns, than that your lordship has such an apprehension of the 
 word idea ; or that there is any such hann in the use of it, instead of the 
 word notion, (with which your lordship seems to take it to agree in sig- 
 nification,) that your lordship would think it worth your while to spend 
 any part of your valuable time and thoughts about my book, for having 
 the word idea so often in it, for this would be to make your lordship 
 to write only against an impropriety of speech. I own to your lordship, 
 it is a great condescension in your lordsliip to have done it, if that word
 
 342 APPENDIX. 
 
 have such a share in what your lordship has wiit against my book, as 
 some expressions would persuade one ; and I would, for the satisfaction 
 of your lordship, change the term of idea for a better, if your lordship, 
 or any one, could help me to it. For, that notion will not so well stand 
 for every immediate object of the mind in thinking, as idea does, I have 
 (as I guess) somewhere given a reason in my book, by showing that the 
 term notion is more 'peculiarly appropriated to a certain sort of those 
 objects, which I call mixed modes ; and I think it would not sound 
 altogether so well to say, the notion of red, and the notion of a horse ; as 
 the idea of red, and the idea of a horse. But if any one thinks it wUl, 
 I contend not : for I have no fondness for, no antipathy to, any par- 
 ticular articulate sounds : nor do I think there is any spell or fascina- 
 tion in any of them. 
 
 ' ' But be the word idea proper or improper, T do not see how it is 
 the better or the worse, because all men have made use of it, or because 
 it has been made use of to bad purposes ; for if that be a reason to con- 
 demn or lay it by, we must lay by the terms scriptwre, reason, percep- 
 tion, distinct, clear, tkc. Nay, the name of God himself will not escape ; 
 for I do not think any of these, or any other term, can be produced, 
 which hath not been made use of by such men, and to such purposes. 
 And therefore, if the Unitarians, in their late pamphlets, have talked 
 very much of, and strangely amused the world with ideas; I cannot 
 believe your lordship will think that word one jot the worse, or the 
 more dangerous, because they use it ; any more than, for the use of 
 them, you will think reason or scrijtture terms ill or dangerous. And 
 therefore, what your lordship says in the bottom of this 93rd page, that 
 ' I might have enjoyed the satisfaction of my ideas long enough before 
 your lordship had taken notice of them, unless you had found them 
 employed in doing mischief,' will, 1 presume, when your lordship has 
 considered again of this matter, prevail with your lordship to let me 
 enjoy still the satisfaction I take in my ideas, i. e., as much satisfaction 
 as I can take in so small a matter, as is the using of a proper term, 
 notwithstanding it should be employed by others in doing mischief. 
 
 " For, my lord, if I should leave it whoUy out of my book, and sub- 
 stitute the word notion everywhere in the room of it ; and everybody 
 else should do so too (though your lordship does not, I suppose, suspect 
 that I have the vanity to think they woxild follow my example) my 
 book would, it seems, be the more to your lordship's liking ; but I do 
 not see how this would one jot abate the mischief your lordship com- 
 plains of. For the Unitarians might as much employ notions, as they 
 do now ideas, to do mischief; unless they are such fools to think they 
 can conjure with this notable word idea; and that the force of what 
 they say, lies in the sound, and not in the signification of their terms. 
 
 ' ' This I am sure of, that the truths of the Christian religion can be 
 no more battered by one word than another ; nor can they be beaten 
 down or endangered by any sound whatsoever. And I am apt to flatter 
 myself, that your lordship is satisfied that there is no hai-m in the word 
 ideas, because you say you should not have taken notice of my ideas, 
 if the enemies of om* faith had not taken up my new way of ideas, as 
 an effectual battery against the mysteries of tlie Christian faith. In 
 which place, by new way of ideas, nothing, I think, can be construed to
 
 APPENDIX. 343 
 
 be meant, but my expressing myself by that of ideas, and not by other 
 more common words, and of ancienter standing in the English lan- 
 guage." 
 
 As to the objection of the author's way by ideas being a new way, he 
 thus answers : ' ' My neiv way by ideas, or my way by ideas, which often 
 occurs in your lordship's letter, is, I confess, a very large and doubtful 
 expression, and may, in the full latitude, comprehend my whole Essay ; 
 because, treating in it of the understanding, which is nothing but the 
 faculty of thinking, I could not well treat of that faculty of the mind 
 which consists in thinking, without considering the immediate objects of 
 the mind in thinking, which I call ideas; and therefore, in treating 
 of the understanding, I guess it will not be thought strange, that the 
 greatest part of my book has been taken up in considering what these 
 objects of the mind in thinking are; whence they come; what use the 
 mind makes of them, in its several ways of thinking ; and what are the 
 outward marks whereby it signifies them to others, or records them for 
 its own use. And this, in short, is my way by ideas, that which your 
 lordship calls my view way by ideas; which, my lord, if it be new, it 
 is but a new history of an old thing. For I think it will not be doubted 
 that men always perfoiTued the actions of thinking, reasoning, believing, 
 and knowing, just after the same manner that they do now; though 
 whether the same account has heretofore been given of the way how 
 they performed these actions, or wherein they consisted, I do not know. 
 Were I as well read as your lordship, I should have been safe from that 
 gentle reprimand of your lordship's, for thinking my way of ideas new, 
 for want of looking into other men's thoughts, which appear in their 
 books. 
 
 " Your lordship's words, as an acknowledgment of your instructions 
 in the case, and as a warning to others, who will be so bold adventurers 
 as to spin anything barely out of their own thoughts, I shall set down 
 at large ; and they run thus : ' Whether you took this way of ideas from 
 the modem philosopher, mentioned by you, is not at all material ; but I 
 intended no reflection upon you in it ; (for that you mean by my com- 
 mending you as a scholar of so great a master;) I never meant to take 
 from you the honour of your own inventions ; and I do believe you, 
 when you say that you wrote from your own thoughts, and the ideas 
 you had there. But many things may seem new to one that converses 
 only with his own thoughts, which really are not so ; as he may find, 
 when he looks into the thoughts of other men, which appear in their 
 books. And therefore, although I have a just esteem for the invention 
 of such, who can spin volumes barely out of their own thoughts ; yet 
 I am apt to think they would oblige the world more, if, after they have 
 thought so much themselves, they would examine what thoughts others 
 have had before them concerning the same things ; that so those may 
 not be thought their own inventions, which are common to themselves 
 and others. If a man should try all the magnetical experiments him- 
 self, and publish them as his own thoughts, he might take himself to be 
 the inventor of them. But he that examines and compares them with 
 what Gilbert and others have done before him, will not diminish the 
 praise of his diligence, but may wish he had compared his thoughts with 
 other men's ; by which the world would receive greater advantage, 
 though he lost the honour of being an original, '
 
 344 APPENDIX 
 
 ' ' To alleviaw my fault herein. I agree with your lord^p, that inr»iiy 
 things may seem new to one that couverses only with hLs own thoughts, 
 which really are not so : but I must crave leave to suggest to your lord- 
 ship, that t^ in spinning of them out of his own thoughts, they seem new 
 to him, he is certainly the inventor of them : and they may as justly be 
 thought his own invention as any one's : and he is as certainly the in- 
 ventor of them, as any one who thought on them before him : the dis- 
 tinction of invention, or not invention, lying not in thinking first, or 
 not first, but in the borrowing, or not borrowing, our thoughts from 
 another ; and he to whom, spinning them out of his own thoughts, thev 
 seem new. could not certainly borrow them from another. So he truly 
 invented printing In Europe, who, without any communication with the 
 Chinese, spun it out of his own thoughts ; though it was never so true, 
 that the Chinese had the use of printing, nay, of printing in the very 
 same way, among them, many ages before him. So that he that spins 
 anything out of his own thoughts, that seems new to him, cannot cease 
 to think it is his own invention, should he examine ever so fiir, what 
 thoughts others have had before him concerning the same thing, and 
 should find, by examining, that they had the same thoughts too. 
 
 ' ' But what great obligation this would be to the world, or weighty cause 
 of tiiming over and looking into books, I confess I do not see. The great 
 end to me, in conversing with my own or other men's thoughts, m mat- 
 ters of specidation, is to find truth, without being much concerned 
 whether my own spinning of it out of mine, or their spinning of it out of 
 their own thoughts, helps me to it. And how little I affect the honour 
 of an original, may be seen ia that place of my book, where, if anywhere, 
 that itch of vain-glory was likeliest to have shown itself, had I been so 
 overrun with it as to need a cure. It is where I speak of certainty, in 
 these following words, taken notice of by your lordship in another place : 
 ' I think I have shown wherein it is that certainty, real certainty, con- 
 sists, which, whatever it was to others, was, I confess, to me, heretofore, 
 one of those desiderata which I found great want of.' 
 
 " Here, my lord, however new this seemed to me, and the more so 
 because possibly I had in vain hunted for it in the books of others ; yet 
 I spoke of it as new only to myself : leaving others in the undisturbed 
 possession of what, either by invention or reading, was theirs before ; 
 without assuming to myself any other honour but that of my own 
 ignorance, until that time, if others before had shown wherein certainty 
 lay. And yet, my lord, if I had upon this occasion been forward to 
 assume to myself the honour of an original, I think I had been pretty 
 safe in it ; since I should have had your lordship for my guarantee and 
 vindicator on that point, who are pleased to call it new, and, as such, 
 to write against it. 
 
 ' ' And truly, my lord, in this respect my book has had very unlucky 
 stars, since it hath had the misfortune to displease your lordship, with 
 many things in it, for their novelty; as new icai/ of reasoning; new 
 hypothesis about reason; new sort of certainty; neic terms; new way of 
 ideas; new method of certainty, dr. And yet, in other places, your 
 lordship seems to think it worthy in me of your lordship's reflection, for 
 saying, but what others have said before ; as where I say, ' In the 
 different make of men's tempers, and application of their thoughts, 
 some arguments prevail more on one and some on another, for the con-
 
 APPENDIX. 345 
 
 firmation of the same truth ; ' your lordship asks, ' What is this different 
 from what all men of understanding have said?' Again, I take it, your 
 lordship meant not these words for a commendation of my book, whcie 
 you say, But if no more be meant by ' The simple ideas that come in 
 by sensation or reflection, and their being the foundation of our know- 
 ledge, ' but that our notions of things come in either from our senses or 
 the exercise of our minds: as there is nothing extraordinary in the 
 discovery, so your lordship is far enough from opposing that wherein you 
 think all mankind are agreed. 
 
 "And again: ' But what need all this great noise about ideas and 
 certainty, true and real certainty by tdeas; if, after all, it comes only 
 to this, tliat our ideas only represent to us such things, from whence we 
 bring arguments to prove the truth of things. 
 
 " 'But the world hath been strangely anmsed with ideas of late: and 
 we have been told, that strange things might be done by the help of 
 idec^s ; yet these ideas, at last, come to be only common notions of 
 things, which we must make use of in our reasoning.' And to the like 
 purpose in other places. 
 
 ' ' Whether, therefore, at last, your lordship will resolve that it is new 
 or no ; or more faulty by its being new, must be left to your lordship. 
 This I find by it, that my book cannot avoid being condemned on the 
 one side or the other ; nor do I see a possibility to help it. If there be 
 readers that like only new thoughts ; or, on the other side, others that 
 can bear nothing but what can be justified by received authorities in 
 print, I must desire them to make themselves amends in that part which 
 the}' Uke, for the displeasure they receive in the other ; but if any should 
 be so exact as to find fault with both, truly I know not what to say to 
 them. The case is a plain case : the book is all over naught ; and there 
 is not a sentence in it that is not, either from its antiquity or novelty, 
 to be condemned ; and so there is a short end of it. From your lord- 
 ship, indeed, in particular, I can hope for something better ; for your 
 lordship thinkii the general design of it so good, that that, I flatter my- 
 self, would prevail on your lordship to preserve it from the fire. 
 
 ' ' But as to the way your lordship thinks I should have taken to pre- 
 vent the having it thought my invention, when it was common to me 
 with others, it unluckily so fell out, in the subject of my Essay of 
 Human Understanding, that I could not look into the thoughts of other 
 men to inform myself. For my design being, as well as I could, to 
 copy nature, and to give au account of the operations of the mind in 
 thinking, I could look into nobody's understanding but my ovra, to see 
 how it wrought ; nor have a prospect into other m<;n's minds, to view 
 their thoughts there, and observe what steps and motions they took, 
 and by what gradations they proceeded in their acquainting themselves 
 with truth, and their advance in knowledge ; what we find of their 
 thoughts in books, is but the result of this, and not the progress and 
 working of their minds, in coming to the opinions or conclusions they 
 set down and published. 
 
 " All, therefore, that I can say of my book is, that it is a copy of 
 my own mind, in its several ways of operation. And all that I can say 
 for the publishing of it is, that I think the intellectual faculties are 
 made, and operate alike in most men ; and that some that I showed it
 
 346 APPEiroix. 
 
 to before I published it, liked it so well, that I was confirmed in that 
 opinion. And, therefore, if it should happen that it should not be so, 
 but that some men should have ways of thinking, reasoning, or arriving 
 at certainty, different from others, and above those that I find my mind 
 to use and acquiesce in, I do not see of what use my book can be to 
 them. I can only make it my humble request, in my own name, and in 
 the name of those that are of my size, who find their minds work, 
 reason, and know in the same low way that mine does, that those men 
 of a more happy genius would show us the way of their nobler flights ; 
 and particularly would discover to us their shorter or surer way to 
 certainty, than by ideas, and the observing their agreement or dis- 
 agreement." 
 
 " Your lordship adds : ' But now, it seems, nothing is intelligible but 
 what suits with the new way of ideas.' My lord, the new way of ideas, 
 and the old way of speaking intelligibly,* was always, and ever will be 
 the same; and, if I may take the liberty to declare my sense of it, 
 herein it consists : 1. That a man use no words but such as he makes the 
 sign of certain detemiined objects of his mind in thinking, which he can 
 make known to another. 2. Next, That he use the same word steadily 
 for the sign of the same immediate object of his mind in thinking. 3. 
 That he join those words together in propositions, according to the gram- 
 matical rules of that language he speaks in. 4. That he unite those 
 sentences into a coherent discourse. Thus, and thus only, I humbly 
 conceive, any one may preserve himself from the confines and suspicion 
 of jargon, whether he pleases to call those immediate objects of his mind, 
 which his words do or should stand for, ideas or no." 
 
 No. II.— Vol. I. p. 87, par. 8. 
 
 On this reasoning of the author against innate ideas, great blame 
 hath been laid, because it seems to invalidate an argument commonly 
 used to prove the being of a God, viz., universal consent. To which our 
 author answers :t " I think that the universal consent of mankind as to 
 the being of a God, amounts to thus much, that the vastly greater 
 majority of mankind have, in all ages of the world, actually believed in 
 a God ; that the majority of the remaining part have not actually dis- 
 believed it ; and, consequently, those who have actually opposed the 
 belief of a God, have truly been very few. So that comparing those 
 that have actually disbelieved, with those who have actually believed in a 
 God, their number is so inconsiderable, that in respect of this incom- 
 parably greater majority of those who have owned the belief of a God, it 
 may be said to be the universal consent of mankind. 
 
 ' ' This is all the universal consent which truth or matter of fact will 
 allow, and, therefore, all that can be made use of to prove a God. But 
 if any one would extend it further, and speak deceitfully for God; if 
 this universality should be urged in a strict sense, not for much the 
 majority, but for a general consent of every one, even to a man, in all 
 ages and countries, this would make it either no argument, or a perfectly 
 useless and unnecessary one. For if any one deny a God, such an 
 
 * Mr. Locke's Third Letter to the Bishop of Worcester. + Ibid.
 
 APPENDIX. 347 
 
 universality of consent is destroyed : and if nobody does deny a God, 
 what need of arguments to convince Atheists ? ' 
 
 " I would crave leave to ask your lordship, were there ever in the 
 world any Atheists or not? If there were not, what need is there of 
 raising a question about the being of a God, when nobody questions it? 
 What need of provisional arguments against a fault from which mankind 
 are so wholly free ; and which, by an universal consent, they may be 
 presumed to be secure from? If you say (as I doubt not but you will) 
 that there have been Atheists in the world, then your lordship's universal 
 consent reduces itself to only a great majority ; and then make that 
 majority as great as you will, what I have said in the place quoted by 
 your lordship leaves it in its full force : and I have not said one word 
 that does in the least invalidate this argument for a God. The argu- 
 ment I was upon there was to show, that the idea of God was not 
 innate ; and to my purpose it was sufficient, if there were but a less 
 number found in the world who had no idea of God, than your lordship 
 will allow there have been of professed Atheists; for whatsoever is 
 innate must be universal in the strictest sense. One exception is a 
 sufficient proof against it. So that all that I said, and which was quite 
 to another purpose, did not at all tend, nor can be made use of, to in- 
 validate the argument for a Deity, grounded on such an universal con- 
 sent, as your lordship, and all that build on it, must own : which is only 
 a very disproportioned majority: such an universal consent, my argu- 
 ment there neither affinns nor requires to be less than you will be pleased 
 to allow it. Your lordship, therefore, might without any prejudice to 
 those declarations of goodwill and favour you have for the author of the 
 Essay of Human Understanding, have spared the mentioning his quoting 
 authors that are in print, for matters of fact to quite another purpose, 
 ' as going about to invalidate the argument for a Deity from the universal 
 consent of mankind, ' since he leaves that universal consent as entire and 
 as large as you yourself do, or can own or suppose it. But here I have 
 no reason to be sorry that your lordship has given me this occasion for 
 the vindication of this passage of my book ; if there should be any one 
 besides your lordship, who should so far mistake it as to think it in the 
 least invalidates the argument for a God, from the universal consent of 
 mankind. 
 
 ' ' But because you question the credibility of those authors I have 
 quoted, which you say were very HI chosen, I will crave leave to say, 
 that he whom I relied on for his testimony concerning the Hottentots of 
 Soldania, was no less a man than an ambassador from the King of 
 England to the great Mogul, of whose relation M. Thevenot, no ill judge 
 in the case, had so great an esteem, that he was at the pains to translate 
 it into French, and publish it in his (which is counted no injudicious) 
 Collection of Travels. But to intercede with your lordship for a little 
 more favourable allowance of credit to Sir Thomas Roe's relation : Coore, 
 an inhabitant of the country, who could speak English, assured Mr. 
 Terry, * that they of Soldania had no God. But if he, too, have the ill 
 luck to find no credit with you, I hope you will be a Uttle more favour- 
 able to a divine of the Church of England now living, and admit of his 
 
 * Terry's Voyage, p. 17, 2.3.
 
 348 APPENDIX. 
 
 testimony in confinnation of Sir Thomas Roe's. This worthy gentleman, 
 in the relation of his voyage to Surat, printed but two years since, 
 speaking of the same people, has these words : * ' They are sunk even 
 below idolatry, are destitute of both priest and temple; and, saving a 
 little show of rejoicing which is made at the full and new moon, have 
 lost all kind of religious devotion. Nature has so richly provided for 
 their convenience in this life, that they have drowned all sense of the 
 God of it, and are grown quite careless of the next.' 
 
 ' ' But to provide against the clearest evidence of Atheism in these 
 people, you say, ' That the account given of them makes them not fit to 
 be a standard for the sense of mankind.' This, I think, may pass for 
 nothing, till somebody be found that makes them to be a standard for 
 the sense of mankind. All the use I made of them was to show that 
 there were men in the world that had no innate idea of God. But to 
 keep something like an argument going, (for what will not that do?) 
 you go near to deny those Caffres to be men. What else do these words 
 signify ? ' A people so strangely bereft of common sense, that they can 
 hardly be reckoned among mankind, as appears by the best accounts of 
 the Caffres of Soldania,' &c. I hope if any of them were called Peter, 
 James, or John, it would be past sci-uple that they were men : however, 
 Courwee, Wewena, and Cowsheda, and those others who had names, 
 that had no places in your nomenclature, would hardly pass muster with 
 your lordship. 
 
 " My lord, I should not mention this, but that what you yourself say 
 here, may be a motive to you to consider, that what you have laid such 
 stress on concerning the general nature of man, as a real being, and the 
 subject of properties, amounts to nothing for the distinguishing of 
 species ; since you yourself own, that there may be individuals, wherein 
 there is a common nature with a particular subsistence proper to each of 
 them ; whereby you are so little able to know of which of the ranks or 
 sorts they are, . into which you say God has ordered beings, and which he 
 hath distinguished by essential properties, that you are in doubt whether 
 they ought to be reckoned among mankind or not." 
 
 No. III.— Vol. I. p. 224, par. 2. 
 
 Agamst this, that the materials of all our knowledge are suggested 
 and furnished to the mind only by sensation and reflection, the Bishop 
 of Worcester makes use of the idea of substance in these words : "If 
 the idea of substance be grounded upon plain and evident reason, then 
 we must allow an idea of substance, which comes not in by sensation or 
 reflection ; and so we may be certain of something which we have not by 
 these ideas." 
 
 To which our author answers : + " These words of your lordship contain 
 nothing, as I see, in them, against me ; for I never said that the general 
 idea of substance comes in by sensation and reflection ; or that it is a 
 simple idea of sensation or reflection, though it be ultimately founded in 
 them ; for it is a complex idea, made up of the general idea of some- 
 
 * Mr. Ovington, p. 489. 
 
 + In his First Letter to the Bishop of Worcester.
 
 APPENDIX. 349 
 
 thing, or being, with the relation of a support to accidents. For general 
 ideas come not into the mind by sensation or reflection ; but are the 
 creatures or inventions of the understanding, as I think I have shown ;* 
 and also how the mind makes them from ideas which it has got by sen- 
 sation and reflection ; and as to the ideas of relation, how the mind forma 
 them, and how they are derived from, and ultimately terminate in, ideas 
 of sensation and reflection, I have likewise shown. 
 
 "But that I may not be mistaken in what I mean, when I speak of 
 ideas of sensation and reflection, as the materials of all Our knowledge ; 
 give me leave, my lord, to set down here a place or two, out of my 
 book, to explain myself; as I thus speak of ideas of sensation and 
 reflection : 
 
 " 'That these, Avhen we have t.aken a full survey of them, and their 
 several modes, and the compositions made out of them, we shall find to 
 contain our whole stock of ideas, and we have nothing in our minds 
 which did not come in one of these two ways.' f This thought, in another 
 place, I express thus : 
 
 " 'Tliese are the most considerable of these simple ideas which the 
 mind has, and out of which is made all its other knowledge ; all which 
 it receives by the two fore- mentioned ways of sensation and reflection.' :J: 
 And, 
 
 ' ' ' Thus I have in a short draught given a view of our original ideas, 
 from whence all the rest are derived, and of which they are made up. § 
 
 "This, and the like, said in other places, is wh.at I have thought con- 
 cerning ideas of sensation and reflection, as the foundation and materials 
 of all our ideas, and consequently of all our knowledge : I have set 
 down these particulars out of my book, that the reader, having a full 
 view of my opinion herein, may the better see what in it is liable to your 
 lordship's reprehension. For that your lordship is not very well satisfied 
 with it, appears not only by the words under consideration, but by these 
 also : ' But we are still told, that our understanding can have no other 
 ideas, but either from sensation or reflection. ' 
 
 "Your lordship's argument in the passage we are upon, stands thus : 
 ' If the general idea of substance be grounded upon plain and evident 
 reason, then we must allow an idea of substance, which comes not in by 
 sensation or reflection.' This is a consequence which, with submission, 
 I think will not hold, because it is founded upon a supposition which I 
 think will not hold, viz., 'That reason and ideas are inconsistent:' for 
 if that supposition be not true, then the general idea of substance may 
 be grounded on plain and evident reason ; and yet it will not follow 
 from thence, that it is not ultimately grounded on and derived from 
 ideas which come in by sensation or reflection, and so cannot be said to 
 come in by sensation or reflection.' 
 
 " To explain myself, and clear my meaning in this matter : all the ideas of 
 all the sensible qualities of a chen-y come into my mind by sensation : the 
 ideas of perceiving, thinking, reasoning, knowing, &c., come into my mind 
 by reflection. The ideas of these qualities and actions, or powers, are per- 
 ceived by the mind, to be by themselves inconsistent with existence ; or, 
 
 * B. 3. c. 3. B. 2. par. 25, and c. 28. par. 18. 
 
 t B. 2. c, 1. par. 5. J B. 2. c. 7. par. 10. § B. 2. c. 21. par. 73.
 
 350 APPENDIX. 
 
 as your lordship well expresses it, ' we find that we can have no true 
 conception of any modes or accidents, but we must conceive a sub- 
 stratum, or subject, wherein they are, i. e., that they cannot exist or 
 subsist of themselves.' Hence the mind perceives their necessaiy con- 
 nexion with inherence, or being supported, which being a relative idea, 
 superadded to the red colour in a cherry, or to thinking in a man, the 
 mind frames the correlative idea of a support. For I never denied, that 
 the mind could frame to itself ideas of relation, but have shown the 
 quite contrary in my chapters about relation. But because a relation 
 cannot be founded in nothing, or be the relation of nothing, and the 
 thing here related as the supporter, or a support, is not represented to 
 the mind by any clear and distinct idea; therefore, the obscure and 
 indistinct vague idea of thing, or something, is all that is left to be the 
 positive idea, which has the relation of a support, or substratum, to 
 modes or accidents ; and that general indetermined idea of something is, 
 by the abstraction of the mind, derived also from the simple ideas of 
 sensation and reflection : and thus the mind, from the positive simple 
 ideas got by sensation and reflection; comes to the general relative 
 idea of substance, which, without these positive simple ideas it would 
 never have. 
 
 ' ' Tliis your lordship (without giving by detail all the particular steps 
 of the mind in this business) has well expressed in this more familiar 
 way : ' We find we can have no true conception of any modes or acci- 
 dents, but we must conceive a substratum, or subject, wherein they are; 
 since it is a repugnancy to our conception of things, that modes or 
 accidents should subsist by themselves. ' 
 
 "Hence your lordship caUs it the rational idea of substance. And 
 say, ' I grant, that by sensation and reflection we come to know the 
 powers and properties of things ; but our reason is satisfied that there 
 must be something beyond these, because it is impossible that they 
 shoxdd subsist by themselves ; ' so that if this be what your lordship 
 means by rational ideas of substances, I see nothing there is in it against 
 what I have said, that it is founded on simple ideas of sensation or 
 , reflection, and that it is a very obscure idea. 
 
 " Your lordship's conclusion from your foregoing words, is, 'And so 
 we may be certain of some things which we have not by those ideas ; ' 
 which is a proposition, whose precise meaning your lordship wUl forgive 
 me, if I profess, as it stands there, I do not understand. For it is un- 
 certain to me, whether your lordship means, we may certainly know the 
 existence of something which we have not by those ideas ; or certainly 
 know the distinct properties of something which we have not by those 
 ideas ; or certainly know the truth of some propositions, \vhich we have 
 not by those ideas ; for to be certain of something, may signify either of 
 these : but in which soever of these it be meant, I do not see how I am 
 concerned in it. 
 
 No. IV.— Vol. I. p. 423, par. 1. 
 
 TTiis section, which was intended only to show how the individuals of 
 distinct species of substances came to be looked upon as simple ideas, 
 and so to have simple names, viz., from the supposed substratum or
 
 APPENDIX. 351 
 
 substance, which was looked upon as the thing itself in which inhered, 
 and from which resulted that complication of ideas, by which it was 
 represented to us, hath been mistaken for an account of the idea of sub- 
 stance in general ; and as such, hath been represented in these words : 
 But how comes the general idea of substance to be framed in our luiuds ? 
 Is this by abstracting and enlarging simple ideas ? No : ' But it is by 
 a complication of many simple ideas together : because, not imagining 
 how these simple ideas can subsist by themselves, we accustom our- 
 selves to suppose some sulistratum, wherein they do subsist, and from 
 whence they do result ; which, therefore, we call substance. ' ' And is 
 this all, indeed, that is to be said for the being of substance, that we 
 accustom ourselves to suppose a substratum ? Is that custom grounded 
 upon true reason, or not ? If not, then accidents or modes must subsist 
 of themselves ; and these simple ideas need no tortoise to su])port them ; 
 for figures and colours, &c., would do well enough of themselves, but for 
 some fancies men have accustomed themselves to.' 
 
 To which objection of the Bishop of Worcester, our author answers 
 thus : * " Herein your lordship seems to charge me with two faults : 
 one, that I make the general idea of substance to be framed, not by 
 abstracting and enlarging simple ideas, but by a complication of many 
 simple ideas together ; the other, as if I had said, the being of substance 
 had no other foundation but the fancies of men. 
 
 "As to the first of these, I beg leave to remind your lordship, that I 
 say in more places than one, and particularly Book 3, Chap. 3, par. 6, 
 and Book 1, Chap. 11, par. 9, where, ex professo, I treat of abstraction 
 and general ideas, that they are all made by abstracting, and, therefore, 
 could not be understood to mean, that that of substance was made any 
 other way; however my pen might have slipped, or the negligence of 
 expression, where I might have something else than the general idea of 
 substance in view, might make me seem to say so. 
 
 "That I was not speaking of the general idea of substance, in the 
 passage your lordship quotes, is manifest from the title of that chapter, 
 which is, ' Of the complex ideas of substances ; ' and the first paragraph 
 of it, which your lordship cites for those words you have set down. 
 
 " In which words I do not observe any that deny the general idea of 
 substance to be made by abstraction, nor any that say it is made by a 
 complication of many simple ideas together. But speaking in that- 
 place of the ideas of distinct substances, such as man, horse, gold, 
 &c., I say they are made up of certain combinations of simple ideas, 
 which combinations are looked upon, each of them, as one simple idea, ' 
 though they are many ; and we call it by one name of substance, though 
 made up of modes, from the custom of supposing a substratum, wherein 
 that combination does subsist. So that in this paragraph I only give an 
 account of the idea of distinct substances, such as oak, elephant, iron, 
 &c., how, though they are made up of distinct complications of modes, 
 yet they are looked on as one idea, called by one name, as making distinct 
 sorts of substances. 
 
 ' ' But that my notion of substance in general is quite diflFerent from 
 these, and has no such combination of simple ideas in it, is evident fro 
 
 * In his First Letter to the Bishop of Worcester.
 
 352 APPEISDIX. 
 
 the immediate following words, where I say,* 'The idea of pure sub- 
 stance in general, is only a supposition of we know not what support of 
 such qualities as are capably of producing simple ideas in us.' And 
 these too I plainly distinguish all along, particularly where I say, ' what- 
 ever, therefore, be the secret and abstract nature of substance in 
 general, all the ideas we have of particular distinct substances are 
 nothing but several combinations of simple ideas, co- existing in such, 
 though unknown cause of their union, as makes the whole subsist of 
 itself.' 
 
 ' ' The other thing laid to my charge is, as if I took the being of sub- 
 stance to be doubtful, or rendered it so by the imperfect and iU-grounded 
 idea I have given of it. To which I beg leave to say, that I ground not 
 the being, but the idea of substance, on our accustoming ourselves to sup- 
 pose some subtratum : for it is of the idea alone I speak there, and not of 
 the being of substance. And having eveiywhere affirmed, and built 
 upon it, that a man is a substance, I cannot be supposed to question or 
 doubt of the being of substance, till I can question or doubt of my own 
 being. Further, I say, + ' Sensation convinces us that there are solid, 
 extended substances ; and reflection, that there are thinking ones. ' So 
 that, I think, the being of substance is not shaken by what I have said ; 
 and if the idea of it should be, yet (the being of things depending not on 
 our ideas) the being of substance would not be at aU shaken by my 
 saying, we had but an obscure imperfect idea of it, and that that idea 
 came from our accustoming ourselves to suppose some substratum : or 
 indeed, if I should say, we had no idea of substance at all. For a great 
 many things may be, and are granted to have a being, and be in nature, 
 of which we have no ideas. For example : it cannot be doubted but 
 there are distinct species of separate spirits, of which yet we have no 
 distinct ideas at aU ; it cannot be questioned but spirits have ways of 
 communicating their thoughts, and yet we have no idea of it at all. 
 
 "The being then of substance being safe and secure, notwithstanding 
 anything I have said, let us see whether the idea of it be not so too. 
 Your lordship asks, with concern, ' And is this all, indeed, that is to be 
 said, for the being (if your lordship please, let it be the idea) of sub- 
 stance, that we accustom ourselves to suppose a substratum? Is that 
 custom grounded upon true reason or not? '. I have said that it is grounded 
 upon this, J ' That we cannot conceive how simple ideas of sensible qua- 
 lities should subsist alone, and, therefore, we suppose them to exist in, 
 and to be supported by, some common subject ; which support we denote 
 by the same substance.' Which, I think, is a true reason, because it is 
 the same your lordship grounds the supposition of a substratum on, in 
 this veiy page : even on the repugnancy to our conceptions, that modes 
 and accidents should subsist by themselves. So that I have the good 
 luck to agree here with your lordship : and consequently conclude I have 
 your approbation in this, that the substratum to modes or accidents, 
 which is our idea of substance in general, is founded in this, ' that we 
 cannot conceive how modes or accidents can subsist by themselves.' " 
 
 * B. 2. c. 23. par. 2. t Ibid. par. 29. t Ibid. par. 4.
 
 APPENDIX. 353 
 
 No. v.— Vol. I. page 424, par. 2. 
 
 From this paragraph, there hath been raised an objection by the 
 Bishop of Worcester, as if our author's doctrine here, concerning ideas, 
 had almost discarded substance out of the world; his words in this 
 second paragraph being brought to prove, that he is one of the gentle- 
 men of this new way of reasoning, that have almost discarded substance 
 out of the reasonable part of the world. To which our author replies : * 
 "This, my lord, is an accusation which your lordship will pardon me, if 
 I do not readily know what to plead to, because I do not understand 
 what is almost to discard substance out of the reasonable part of the . 
 world. If your lordship means by it, that I deny or doubt, that there 
 is in the world any such thing as substance, that your lordship will 
 acquit me of, when your lordship looks again into the 23rd chapter of the 
 second book, which you have cited more than once ; where you will 
 find these words, par. 4 : ' When we talk or think of any particular sort 
 of corporeal substances, as horse, stone, &c., though the idea we have 
 of either of them be but the complication or collection of those several 
 simple ideas of sensible qualities which we used to find united in the 
 thing called hoi-se, or stone; yet, because we cannot conceive how they 
 should subsist alone, nor one in another, we suppose them existing 
 in and supported by some common subject, which support we denote by 
 the name substance ; though it be certain, we have no clear and distinct 
 idea of that thing we suppose a support.' And again, par. 5 : 'The 
 same happens concerning the operations of the mind, viz., thinking, 
 reasoning, fearing, &c,, which we considering not to subsist of them- 
 selves, nor apprehending how they can belong to body, or be produced 
 by it, we are apt to think these the actions of some other substance, 
 which we call spirit ; whereby yet it is evident, that having no other 
 idea or notion of matter, but something wherein those many sensible 
 qualities which affect our senses do subsist, by supposing a substance, 
 wherein thinking, knowing, doubting, and a power of moving, &c., do 
 subsist, we have as clear a notion of the nature or substance of spirit, 
 as we have of body ; the one being supposed to be (without knowing 
 what it is) the substratum to those smiple ideas we have from without : 
 and the others supposed (with a like ignorance of what it is) to be the 
 substratmn to those operations, which we experiment in ourselves within.' 
 And again, par. 6 : ' Whatever, therefore, be the secret nature of sub- 
 stance in general, all the ideas we have of particular distinct substances, 
 are nothing but several combinations of simple ideas co- existing in such, 
 though unknown, cause of their union, as makes the whole subsist of 
 itself.' Aaid I further say, in the same paragrapli, 'that we suppose 
 these combinations to rest in, and to be adherent to, that unknown 
 common subject, which inheres not in anything else.' And, par. 3 : 
 * That our complex ideas of substances, besides all those simple ideas 
 they are made up of, have always the confused idea of something to 
 which they belong, and in which thej' subsist ; and, therefore, when we 
 speak of any sort of substance, we say it is a thing having such and 
 
 * In his First Letter to that Bishop. 
 VOL. II. 2 A
 
 3o4 APPENDIX, 
 
 such qualities ; a body is a thing that is extended, figTired, and capable 
 of motion ; a spirit, a thing capable of thinking, &c. These and the like 
 fashions of speaking, intimate that the substance is supposed always 
 something besides the extension, figure, solidity, motion, thinking, or 
 other observable itlea, though we know not what it is. ' 
 
 " 'Our idea of body,' I say,* 'is an extended solid substance; and 
 our idea of soul, is of a substance that thinks.' So that as long as there 
 is any such thing as body or spirit in the world, I have done nothing 
 towards the discarding substance out of the reasonable part of the world. 
 Nay, as long as there is any simple idea or sensible quality left, accord- 
 ing to niy way of arguing, substance cannot be discarded ; because all 
 simple ideas, all sensible qualities, carry with them a supposition of a 
 substratum to exist in, and of a substance wherein they inhere : and of 
 this, that whole chapter is so full, that I challenge any one who reads 
 it, to think I have almost, or one jot, discarded substance out of the 
 reasonable part of the world. And of this, man, horse, sun, water, 
 iron, diamond, &c., which I have mentioned of distinct sorts of sub- 
 stances, will be my witnesses, as long as any such thing remains in being ; 
 of which I say, f ' Tliat the ideas of substances are such combinations of 
 simple ideas, as are taken to represent distinct particular things sub- 
 sisting by themselves, in which the supposed or confused idea of sub- 
 stance is always the fu-st and chief. ' 
 
 ' ' If hj almost discarding substance out of the reasonable part of the 
 world, your lordship means, that I have destroyed and almost discarded 
 the true idea we have of it, by calling it ' a substratum, + a supposition 
 of we know not what support of such qualities as are capable of pro- 
 ducing simple ideas in us ; an obscure and relative idea : § that without 
 knowing what it is, it is that which supports accidents ; so that of sub- 
 stance we have no idea of what it is, but only a confused and obscure one, 
 of what it does : ' I must confess, this and the like I have said of our idea 
 of substance ; and should be very glad to be convinced by your lordship, 
 or anybody else, that I have spoken too meanly of it. He that would 
 show me a more clear and distinct idea of substance, would do me a 
 kindness I should thank him for. But this is the best I can hitherto 
 find, either in my own thoughts, or in the books of logicians ; for their 
 account or idea of it is, that it is ens, or res per se siibsistcns, et substuns 
 accidentilncs ; which in effect is no more, but that substance is a being or 
 tiling ; or, in short, something, they know not what, or of which they have 
 no clearer idea, than that it is something which supports accidents, or other 
 simple ideas or modes, and is not supported itself, as a mode, or an acci- 
 dent. So that I do not see but Burgersdicius, Sanderson, and the whole 
 tribe of logicians, must be reckoned with ' the gentlemen of this new 
 way of reasoning, who have almost discai'ded substance out of the reason- 
 able part of the world.' 
 
 ' ' But supposing, my lord, that I, or these gentlemen, logicians of 
 note in the schools, should own that we have a very imperfect, obscure, 
 madequate idea of substance, would it not be a little too hard to charge 
 us with discarding substance out of the world? For what almost dis- 
 
 * B. 2. c. 23. par. 22. t B. 2. c. 12. par. 6. 
 
 J B. 2. c. 23. pars. 1, 2, 3. § B. 2. c. l^. par. 19.
 
 APPENDIX. 3.55 
 
 carding, and reasonable part of the world, signify, I must confess 1 
 do not clearly comprehend ; but let, almost, and, re:isonable part, signify 
 here what they will, for I dare say your lordship meant something by them ; 
 would not your lordship think you were a little too liardly dealt wth, 
 if, for acknowledging yourself to have a very imperfect and inadequate 
 idea of God, or of several other things, which in this very treatise you 
 confess our understandings come short in, and cannot comprehend, you 
 should be accused to be one of these gentlemen that have almost dis- 
 carded God, or those other mysterious things, whereof you contend we 
 Lave very imperfect and inadequate ideas out of the reasonable world ? 
 For I suppose your lordship means by almost discarding out of tho 
 Reasonable world, something that is blamable, for it seems not to be 
 inserted for a commendation ; and yet I think he deserves no blame, 
 who o'tt'ns the having imperfect, inadequate, obscure ideas, where he has 
 no better : however, if it be inferred from thence, that either he ahnost 
 excludes those things out of being, or out of rational discoui-se, Lf that 
 be meant by the reasonable world ; for the first of these will not hold, 
 because the being of things in the world depends not on our ideas : the 
 latter, indeed, is true iu some degree, but is no fault ; for it is certain, 
 that where we have imperfect, inadequate, confused, obscure ideas, we 
 caimot discourse and reason about those things so well, fully, and clearly, 
 as if we had perfect, adequate, clear, and distinct ideas. 
 
 Other objections are made against the following parts of this para- 
 graph, by that reverend prelate, viz., "The repetition of the story of 
 the Indian philosopher, and the talking like children about substance : " 
 to which our author replies : — 
 
 " Your lordship, I must own, with great reason, takes notice, that 
 I paralleled, more than once, our idea of substance with the Indian plii- 
 losopher's Ho- knew- not- what, which supported the tortoise, &c. 
 
 ' ' This repetition, is, I confess a fault in exact writing ; but I have 
 acknowledged and excused it in these words, in my preface : ' I am not 
 ignorant how little I herein consult my own reputation, when I know- 
 ingly let my Essay go with a fault so apt to disgust the most judi- 
 cious, who are always the nicest readers.' And there further add, ' That 
 I did not publish my Essay for such great masters of knowledge as your 
 lordship : but fitted it to men of my own size, to whom repetitions might 
 be sometimes useful.' It would not, therefore, have been beside your 
 lordship's generosity, (who were not intended to be provoked by the 
 repetition,) to have passed by such a fault as this, in one who pretends 
 not beyond the lower rank of writers. But I see your lordship would 
 have me exact, and without any faults : and I wish I could be so, the 
 better to deserve your lordship's approbation. 
 
 " My saying, ' That when we talk of substance, wo talk like children ; 
 who, being asked a question about something which they know not, 
 readily give this satisfactory answer, That it is something ; ' your lord- 
 ship seems mightily to lay to heart in these words that foUow : ' If 
 this be the truth of the case, we must still talk like children, and I know 
 not how it can be remedied. For if we cannot come at a rational idea 
 of substance, we can have no principle of certainty to go upon in this 
 debate.' 
 
 " If your lordship has anv better and distincter idea of substance than 
 
 2a2
 
 3-56 APPENDIX. 
 
 mine is, which I have given an account of, your lordship is not at all 
 concerned in what I have there said. But those whose idea of sub- 
 stance, whether a rational or not rational idea, is like mine, something, 
 they know not what, must in that, with me, talk like children, when 
 they speak of something, they know not what. For a philosopher that 
 says, that which supports accidents is something he knows not what, and 
 a countryman that says, the foundation of the great church at Haarlem 
 is supported by something, he knows not what ; and a child that stands 
 in the dark, upon his mother's muff, and says he stands upon something, 
 he knows not what ; in this respect talk all three alike. But if the 
 countryman knows that the foundation of the church at Haarlem is 
 supported by a rock, as the houses about Bristol are; or by gravel, 
 as the houses about London are ; or by wooden piles, as the houses in 
 Amsterdam are ; it is plain, that, then having a clear and distinct idea 
 of the thing that supports the church, he does not talk of this matter 
 as a child ; nor will he of the support of accidents, when he has a clearer 
 and more distinct idea of it, than that it is barely something. But as long 
 as we think like children, in cases where our ideas are no clearer nor 
 distincter than theirs, I agree with your lordship, that I know not how 
 it can be remedied, but that we must talk like them." 
 
 Further, the bishop asks, "'Whether there be no difference between 
 the bare being of a thing, and its subsistence by itself? " To which our 
 author answers : "Yes.* But what \vill that do to prove, that, upon 
 my principles, we can come to no certainty of reason, that there is any 
 such thing as substance? You seem by this question to conclude, that 
 the idea of' a thing that subsists by itself, is a clear and distinct idea nf 
 substance ; but I beg leave to ask. Is the idea of the manner of sub- 
 sistence of a thing, the idea of the thing itself? If it be not, we may 
 have a clear and distinct idea of the manner, and yet have none but a 
 very obscure and confused one of the thing. For example : I tell your 
 lordship, that I know a thing that cannot subsist without a sup]jort, and 
 I know another thing that does subsist without a support, and say no 
 more of them ; can you, by having the clear and distinct ideas of having 
 a support, and not having a support, say, that you have a clear and 
 distinct idea of the thing, that I know which has, and of the thing that 
 I know which has not a support? If your lordship can, I beseech you 
 to give me the clear and distinct ideas of these, which I only caU by the 
 general name, things, that have or have not supports : for such there 
 are, and such I shall give your lordship clear and distinct ideas o^ when 
 you shall please to caU upon me for them ; though I think your lordship 
 will scarcely find them by the general and confused idea of things, nor 
 in the clearer and more distinct idea of having or not having a support. 
 
 ' ' To show a blind man that he has no clear and distinct idea of 
 scarlet, I tell him, that his notion of it, that it is a thing or being, does 
 not prove that he has any clear or distinct idea of it ; but barely that he 
 takes it to be something, he knows not what. He replies. That he 
 knows more than that, v. g., he knows that it subsists, or inheres in 
 another thing ; and is there no difference, says he, in your lordship's 
 words, between the bare being of a thing, and its subsistence in an- 
 
 * Mr. Locke's Third Letter.
 
 APPENDIX. 357 
 
 other? Yes, say I to him, a great deal ; they are very different ideas. 
 But for all that, you have no clear and distinct idea of scarlet, nor such 
 a one as I have, who see and know it, and have another kind of idea of 
 it, besides that of inherence, 
 
 " Your lordship has the idea of subsisting by itself, and therefore, 
 you conclude, you have a clear and distinct idea of the thing that sub- 
 sists by itself; which, methinks, is all one, as if your countiyman 
 should say, he hath an idea of a cedar of Lebanon, that it is a tree of 
 a nature to need no prop to lean on for its support ; therefore, he hath 
 a clear and distinct idea of a cedar of Lebanon ; which clear and dis- 
 tinct idea, when he comes to examine, is nothing but a general one of 
 a tree, with which his indetermined idea of a cedar is confounded. Just 
 so is the idea of substance ; which, however, called clear and distinct, is 
 confounded with the general indetermined idea of something. But sup- 
 pose that the manner of subsisting by itself, gives us a clear and distinct 
 idea of substance, how does that prove, that upon my pi-inciples, we can 
 come to no certainty of reason, that there is any such thing as substance 
 in the world? "Which is the proposition to be proved. 
 
 No. VI.— Vol. I. p. 482, par. 29. 
 
 "Give me leave, my lord," says Mr. Locke, in his answer to the 
 Bishop of Worcester, ' ' to say, that the reason of believing any article 
 of the Christian faith (such as your lordship is here speaking of) to me, 
 and upon my grounds, is its being a part of divine revelation : upon 
 this ground I beUeved it, before I either wrote that chapter on identity 
 and diversity, and before I ever thought of those propositions which 
 your lordship quotes out of that chapter; and upon the same ground I 
 believe it still ; and not from my idea of identity. This saying of your 
 lordship's, therefore, being a proposition neither self-evident, nor allowed 
 by me to be true, remains to be proved. So that your foundation failing, 
 all your large superstructure built thereon comes to nothing. 
 
 ' ' But, my lord, before we go any further, I crave leave humbly to 
 represent to your lordship, that I thought you undertook to make out, 
 that my notion of ideas was inconsistent with the articles of the Christian 
 faith. But that which your lordship instances in here, is not, that I 
 yet know, an article of the Christian faith. The resurrection of the 
 dead, I acknowledge to be an article of the Christian faith ; but that 
 the resurrection of the same body, in your lordship's sense of the same 
 body, is an article of the Christian faith, is what, I confess, I do not 
 yet know. 
 
 " In the New Testament (wherein I think are contained all the articles 
 of the Christian faith) I find our Saviour and the apostles, to preach the 
 resun-ection of the dead, and the resurrection from the dead, in many 
 places : but I do not remember any place where the resurrection of the 
 same body is so much as mentioned. Nay, which is very remarkable in 
 the case, I do not remember in any place of the New Testament (where 
 the general resurrection of the last day is spoken of) any such expression 
 as the resurrection of the body, much less of the same body. 
 
 " I say the general resurrection at the last day; because where the 
 resurrection of some particular persons, presently upon our Saviour's
 
 358 APPENDIX. 
 
 resurrection, is mentioned, the words are,* 'The graves were opened, 
 and many bodies of saints, which slept, arose, and came out of the 
 graves, after his resuirection, and went into the Holy City, and appeared 
 to many : ' of which peculiar way of speaking of this resurrection, the 
 passage itself gives a reason in these words, appeared to many, i. e., 
 those who slept appeared, so as to be known to be risen. But this could 
 not be known, unless they brought with them the evidence that they 
 were those who had been dead ; whereof there were these two proofs, 
 their graves were opened, and their bodies not only gone out of them, 
 but appeared to be the same to those who had known them formerly 
 alive, and knew them to be dead and buried. For if they had been 
 those who had been dead so long, that all who knew them once alive, 
 were now gone, those to whom they appeared might have known them 
 to be men ; but could not have known they were risen from the dead, 
 because they never knew they had been dead. All that by their appear- 
 ing they could have known was, that they were so many living strangers, 
 of whose resuri-ection they knew nothing. It was necessary, therefore, 
 that they should come in such bodies as might, in make and size, &c., 
 appear to be the same they had before, that they might be known to 
 those of their acquaintance whom they appeared to. And it is probable 
 they were such as were newly dead, whose bodies were not yet dissolved 
 and dissipated ; and, therefore, it is particularly said here (differently 
 from what is said of the general resuiTection) that their bodies arose ; 
 because they were the same that were then lying in their graves, the 
 moment before they arose. 
 
 ' ' But your lordship endeavours to prove it must be the same body ; 
 and let us grant tliat your lordship, nay, and others too, think you have 
 proved it must be the same body ; will you therefore say, that he holds 
 what is inconsistent with an article of faith who, having never seen this 
 your lordship's interpretation of the Scripture, nor your reasons for the 
 same body, in your sense of same body; or, if he has seen them, yet 
 not understanding them, or not perceiving the force of them, believes 
 what the Scripture proposes to him, viz., 'That at the last day, the dead 
 shall be raised,' without determining whether it shall be with the very 
 same bodies or not? 
 
 "I know your lordship pretends not to erect your particular inter- 
 pretations of Scripture into articles of faith. And if you do not, he that 
 believes the dead shall be raised, behoves that article of faith that the 
 Sciipture proposes ; and cannot be accused of holding anything incon- 
 sistent with it, if it should happen, that what he holds is inconsistent with 
 another proposition, viz., ' TTiat the dead shall be raised with the same 
 bodies, ' in your lordship's sense, which I do not find proposed in Holy 
 Writ as an article of faith. 
 
 " But your lordship argues. It must be the same body ; which, as 
 you explain same body,t is not the same individual particles of matter 
 ■which were united at the point of death ; nor the same particles of 
 matter that the sinner had at the time of the commission of his sins : 
 but that it must be the same material substance which was vitally 
 united to the soul here ; i. e., as I understand it, the same individual 
 
 . * Matt, xxvii. 52, 53. t Second Answer.
 
 APPENDIX. 359 
 
 particles of matter which were some time or other, during his life here, 
 vitally united to his soul. 
 
 " Your first argument to prove that it must be the same body, in this 
 sense of the same body, is taken from these words of our Saviour,* 'All 
 that' are in the graves shall hear hLs voice, and shall come forth :t from 
 vriience j'our lordship argues, that these words, ' All that are in their 
 graves,' relate to no other substance than what was united to the soul 
 in life ; because, ' a different substance cannot be said to be in the 
 graves and to come out of them.' "Which words of your lordship's, if 
 they prove anji,hing, prove that the soul too is lodged in the grave, and 
 raised out of it at the last day. For your lordship saya, ' Can a 
 different substance be said to be in the graves, and come out of them ? ' 
 so that, according to this uiterpretation of these words of our Saviour, 
 ' no other substance being raised but what hears his voice ; and no 
 other substance hearing his voice but what, being called, comes out of 
 the grave ; and no other substance coming out of the grave, but what 
 was in the grave ; ' any one must conclude, that the soul, unless it be in 
 the grave, will make no part of the person that is raised, unless as your 
 lordship argues against me,+ yon can make it out, that a substance 
 which never was in the grave, may come out of it, or that the soul is no 
 substance. 
 
 "But, setting aside the substance of the soul, another thing that will 
 make any one doubt whether this your interpretation of our Saviour's 
 words be necessary to be received as their true sense, is, that it will not 
 be very easily reconciled to your saying, |1 you do not mean by the same 
 body, the same individual particles which were united at the point of 
 death. And yet by this interpretation of our Saviour's words, you can 
 mean no other particles but such as were united at the point of death ; 
 because you mean no other substance but what comes out of the grave ; 
 and no substance, no particles come out, you say, but what were in the 
 grave ; and I think your lordship will not say that the particles that 
 were separate from the body by perspiration before the point of death, 
 were laid up in the grave. 
 
 " But your lordship, I find, has an answer to this, viz.,§ That, by 
 comparing this with other places, you find that the words (of our Saviour 
 above quoted) are to be understood of the substance of the body to which 
 the soul was united, and not to (I suppose your lordship wrote, of) those 
 individual particles, i. c, those individual particles that are in the grave 
 at the resurrection. For so they must be read, to make your lordship's 
 sense entire and to the purpose of your answer here; and then, me- 
 thinks, this last sense of our Saviour's words, given by your lordship, 
 wholly overturns the sense which we have given of them above, where, 
 from those words, you press the belief of the resurrection of the same 
 body, by this strong argument, that a substance could not, upon hearing 
 the voice of Christ, come out of the grave, which was never in the grave. 
 Thei-e (as far as I can understand your words) your lordship argues, 
 that our Saviour's words are to be understood of the particles in the 
 grave, unless, as your lordship says, one can make it out, that a sub- 
 stance which never was in the grave may come out of it. And here, 
 
 ♦ John, V. 28, 29. t Second Answer. * Ibid, || Ibid. § Ibid.
 
 360 APPENDIX. 
 
 your lordship expressly says, ' Tliat our Saviour's words are to be un- 
 derstood of the substance of that body, to which the soul was (at any 
 time) united, and not to those individual particles that are in the grave.' 
 Which, put together, seems to me to say, That our Saviour's words are 
 to be understood of those particles only which are in the grave, and not 
 of those particles only which are in the grave, but of others also, which 
 have at any time been vitally united to the soul, but never were in the 
 grave. 
 
 " The next text your lordship brings to make the resurrection of the 
 same body in your sense, an article of faith, are these words of St. 
 Paul: * ' For we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, 
 that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to 
 that he hath done, whether it be good or bad ' To which your lordship 
 subjoins this question : t * Can these words be understood of any other 
 material substance, but that body in which these things were done?' 
 Answer : A man may suspend his determining the meaning of the apostle 
 to be, that a sinner shall suffer for his sins, in the very same body 
 wherein he committed them; because St. Paul does not say he shall 
 have the very same body when he suffers, that he had when he sinned. 
 The apostle says, indeed, done in his body. The body he had, and did 
 tilings in at five or fifteen, was, no doubt, his body, as much as that 
 which he did things in at fifty was his body, though his body were not 
 the vei-y same body at those different ages ; and so will the body which 
 he shall have after the resurrection be his body, though it be not the 
 very same with that which he had at five, or fifteen, or fifty. He that 
 at threescore is broken on the wheel for a murder he committed at 
 twenty, is punished for what he did in his body though the body he has, 
 i. e., his body at threescore, be not the same, i. e., made up of the same 
 individual particles of matter that that body was which he had forty 
 years before. When your lordship has resolved with yourself, what 
 that same immutable he is which, at the last judgment, shall receive the 
 things done in his body, youi- lordship will easily see, that the body he 
 had when an embryo in the womb, when a child playing in petticoats, 
 when a man marrying a vdfe, and when bed- rid dying of a consumption, 
 , and at last, which he shall have after his resurrection, are each of them 
 his body, though neither of them be the same body the one with the 
 other. 
 
 ' ' But further, to your lordship's question, * Can these words be un- 
 derstood of any other material substance, but that body ua which these 
 things were done ? ' I answer. These words of St. Paul may be imder- 
 stood of another material substance than that body in which these things 
 were done, because your lordship teaches me, and gives me a strong 
 reason so to understand them. Your lordship says, J ' That you do not 
 say the same particles of matter which the sinner had at the very time 
 of the commission of his sins, shall be raised at the last day.' And your 
 lordship gives this reason for it ; § ' For then a long sinner must have 
 a vast body, considering the continued spending of particles by per- 
 spiration.' Now, my lord, if the apostle's words, as your lordship would 
 argue, cannot be understood of any other material substance but that 
 
 * 2 Cor. V. 10. t Second Answer. J Ibid. § Ibid.
 
 APPEjroix. 361 
 
 body in which these things were done : and no body, upon the removal 
 or change of some of the particles that at any time make it ijp, is the 
 same material substance, or the same body, it will, I think, thenco 
 foUow that either the sinner must have all the same individual particle's 
 vitally united to his soul when he is raised, that he had vitally united 
 to his soul when he sinned ; or else St. Paul's words here cannot be 
 understood to mean the same body in which the things were done. For 
 if there were other particles of matter in the body, wherein the things 
 were done, than in that which is raised, that which is raised cannot be 
 the same body in which they were done ; unless that alone, which has 
 just aU the same individual particles, when any action is done, being 
 the same body wherein it was done, that also, which has not the same 
 individual particles wherein that action was done, can be the same body 
 wherein it was done ; which is, in effect, to make the same body some- 
 times to be the same, and sometimes not the same. 
 
 " Your lordship thinks it suffices to make the same body to have not 
 all, but no other particles of matter, but such as were some time or other 
 vitally united to the soul before ; but such a body made up of part of 
 the particles some tune or other vitally united to the soul, is no more 
 the same body, wherein the actions were done in the distant parts of the 
 long sinner's life, than that is the same body in which a quarter, or half, 
 or three quarters of the same particles, that made it up, are wanting. 
 For example : A sinner has acted here in his body a hundred years ; he 
 is raised at the last day, but with what body ? The same, says your 
 lordship, that he acted in ; because St. Paul says, he must receive the 
 things done in his body. What, therefore, must his body at the resur- 
 rection consist of? Must it consist of all the particles of matter that 
 have ever been vitally united to his soul ? For they, in succession, have 
 all of them made up his body, wherein he did these things : ' No, ' says 
 your lordship, * ' that would make his body too vast ; it suffices to make 
 the same body in which the things were done, that it consists of some of 
 the particles and no other, but such as were, some time during his life, 
 vitally united to his soul.' But, according to this account, his body at 
 the resurrection being, as your lordship seems to limit it, near the same 
 size it was in some part of his life ; it vstU be no more the same body in 
 which the things were done in the distant parts of his life, than that is 
 the same body in which half, or three quarters, or more, of the individual 
 malter that then made it up, is now wanting. For example, let his 
 body at fifty years old, consist of a million of parts ; five hundred thou- 
 sand at least of those parts will be different from those which made up 
 his body at ten years, and at a hundred. So that to take the numerical 
 particles that made up his body at fifty, or any other season of his life, 
 or to gather them promiscuously out of those which at different times 
 have successively been vitally united to his soul, they will no more 
 make the same body, which was his, wherein some of his actions were 
 done, than that is the same body, which has but half the same 
 particles : and yet all your lordship's argument here for the same 
 body is, because St. Paul says, it must be his body in which these things 
 were done ; which it could not be if any other substance were joined to 
 
 * Second Answer.
 
 362 APPEXBIX. 
 
 it, i. e., if any other particles of matter made up the body, whicli were 
 not vitally united to the soul when the action was done. 
 
 "Again, your lordship, sa.ys : * 'That you do not say the same indi- 
 vidual particles [shall make vip the body at the resurrection] which were 
 united at the point of death, for there must be a great alteration in them 
 in a lingering disease, as if a fat man falls into a consumption.' Because, 
 it is likely, your lordship thinks, these particles of a decrepit, wasted, 
 withered body, would be too few, or unfit to make such a phunp, strong, 
 vigorous, well- sized body, as it has pleased your lordship to proportion 
 out in your thoughts to men, at the resurrection ; and, therefore, some 
 small portion of the particles foi-merly united vitally to that man's soul, 
 shall be reassumed to make up his body to the bulk your lordship judges 
 convenient ; but the greatest part of them shall be left out, to avoid the 
 making his body more vast than your lordship thinks wiU be fit, as 
 appears by these, your lordship's words immediately following, viz. : t 
 ' TTiat you do not say the same particles the sinner had at the very time 
 of the commission of his sins ; for then a long sinner must have a vast 
 body.' 
 
 "But then, pray, my lord, what must an embryo do, who, dying 
 within a few hours after his body was vitally united to his soul. Las no 
 jxirticles of matter which were formerly vitally united to it, to make up 
 his body of that size and proportion, which your lordship seems to require 
 in bodies at the resurrection? Or, must we believe he shall remain 
 content with that small pittance of matter, and that yet imperfect body 
 to eternity, because it is an article of faith to believe the resurrection 
 of the very same body, i. e. , made up of only such particles as have been 
 vitally united to the soul ? For if it be so, as your lordship says, + ' That 
 life is the result of the union of soul and body, ' it will follow, that the 
 body of an embryo, dying in the womb, may be very little, not the 
 thousandth part of any ordinary man. For since, from the first concep- 
 tion and beginning of fomiation it has life, and ' life is the result of the 
 nnion of the soul with the body ; ' an embiyo that shall die either by the 
 untimely death of the mother, or by any other accident, presently after 
 it has life, must, according to your lordship' s doctrine, remain a man, 
 not an inch long, to eternity ; because there are not particles of matter 
 formerly united to his soul, to make him larger, and no other can be 
 made use of to that purpose : though what greater congruity the soul 
 hath with any particles of matter which were once vitally united t6 it, 
 but are now so no longer, than it hath with particles of matter which 
 it was never united to, would be hard to deteiToine, if that should be 
 demanded. 
 
 "By these, and not a few other the like consequences, one may see 
 what service they do to religion and the Christian doctrine, who rai.'je 
 questions, and make articles of faith, about the resurrection of the same 
 body, where the Scripture says nothing of the same body ; or, if it does, 
 it is with no small reprimand § to those who make such an inquiry, ' But 
 some man will say. How are the dead raised up? and with what body 
 do they come? Thou fool, that which thou sowest, is not quickened, 
 except it die. And that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body 
 
 * Second Answer. t Ibid. J Ibid. § 1 Cor. xv. 35, &c.
 
 APPENDIX. 363 
 
 that shall be, but bare grain ; it may chance of wheat, or some other 
 grain. But God giveth it a body, as it hath pleased him.' Words, I 
 should think, sufficient to deter us from determining anything for or 
 against the same body's being raised at the last day. It suffices, that 
 all the dead shall be raised, and every one appear and answer for the 
 things done in tliis life, and receive according to the things he hath done 
 in his body, whether good or bad. He that believes this, and has said 
 nothing inconsistent herewith, I presume may, and must be acquitted 
 from being guilty of anythuig inconsistent with the article of the resur- 
 rection of the dead. 
 
 "But your lordship, to prove the resurrection of the same body 
 to be an article of faith, further asks,* 'How could it be said, if any 
 other substance be joined to the soul at the resurrection, as its body, 
 that they were the things done in or by the body?' Answer. Just as it 
 may be said of a man at a hundred years old, that hath then another 
 substance joined to his soid, than he had at twenty ; that the murder or 
 drunkenness he was guilty of at twenty, were things done in the body : 
 how ' by the body,' comes in here I do not see. 
 
 " Your lordship adds, 'and St. Paul's dispute about the manner oi 
 raising the body, might soon have ended, if there were no necessity oi 
 the same body.' Answer. When I understand what argument there is 
 in these words to prove the resurrection of the same body, without the 
 mixture of one new atom of matter, I shall know what to say to it. In 
 the meantime, this I understand, that St. Paul would have put as short 
 an end to aU disputes about this matter, if he had said, that there was a 
 necessity of the same body, or that it should be the same body. 
 
 "The next text of Scripture you biing for the same body is, t 'If 
 there be no resurrection of the dead, then is not Christ raised. ' From 
 which your lordship argues, J ' It seems, then, other bodies are to be 
 raised as his was.' I grant other dead, as certainly raised as Christ 
 was ; for else his resurrection would be of no use to mankind. But I 
 do not see how it follows, that they shall be raised vdth the same body, 
 as Christ was raised with the same body as your lordship infers, in these 
 words annexed : ' And can there be any doubt, whether his body was 
 the same material substance which was united to his soul before? I 
 answer. None at all ; nor that it had just the same distinguishing linea- 
 ments and marks, yea, and the same wounds, that it had at the time oi 
 his death. If, therefore, your lordship will argue from other bodies being 
 raised as his was. That they must keep proportion with his in sameness ; 
 then we must believe that every man shall be raised with the same linea- 
 ments and other notes of distinction he had at the time of his death, 
 even with his wounds yet open, if he had any, because our Saviour was 
 so raised, which seems to me scarcely reconcilable vnth what your 
 lordship says, § of a fat man falling into a consumption and dying. 
 
 " But whether it will consist or not with your lordship's meaning in 
 that place, this to me seems a consequence that will need to be better 
 proved, viz.. That our bodies must be raised the same, just as our 
 Saviour's was : because St. Pavd says, ' if there be no resurrection of 
 the dead, then is not Christ risen.' For it may be a good consequence, 
 
 • Second Answer, t 2 Cor. xv. 16. J Second Answer. § Ibid.
 
 364 APPENDIX. 
 
 Chiist is risen, and therefore there shall be a resurrection of the dead : • 
 and yet this may not be a good consequence, Christ was raised with the 
 same body he had at his death, therefore, all men shall be raised ^vith 
 the same bodies they had at their death, contrary to what your lordship 
 says concerning a fat man dying of a consumption. But the case I 
 think far different betwixt our Saviour and those to be raised at the 
 last day. 
 
 " 1. His body saw not corruption, and, therefore, to give him an- 
 other body, new moulded, mixed with other particles, which were not 
 contained in it, as it lay in the grave, whole and entbe as it was laid 
 there, had been to destroy his body to frame him a new one, without 
 any need. But why, with the remaining particles of a man's body, long 
 since dissolved and moulded into dust, and atoms, (whereof possibly, a 
 great part may have undergone variety of changes, and entered into 
 other concretions ; even in the bodies of other men, ) other new particles 
 of matter mixed with them, may not serve to make his body again, as 
 well as the mixture of new and dififevent particles of matter with the 
 old, did in the compass of his life make his body, I think no reason can 
 be given. 
 
 ' ' This may serve to show, why, though the materials of our Saviour's 
 body were not changed at his resiirrection ; yet it does not follow, but 
 tliat the body of a man dead and rotten in his grave, or burnt, may, at 
 the last day have several new particles in it, and that without any in- 
 convenience : since whatever matter is vitally united to his soul, is his 
 body, as much as is that which was united with it when he was bom, or 
 in any otlier part of his life. 
 
 "2. In the next place, the size, shape, figure, and lineaments of our 
 Saviour's body, even to his wounds, into which doubting Thomas put 
 his fingers, and his hand, were to be kept in the raised body of our 
 Saviour, the same they were at his death, to be a conviction to his 
 disciples, to whom he showed himself, and who were to be witnesses of 
 his resurrection, that their Master, the very same man, was crucified, 
 dead, and buried, and raised again ; and, therefore, he was handled by 
 them, and eat before them, after he was risen, to give them in all points 
 full satisfaction that it was really he, the same and not another, not a 
 spectre, or apparition of him ; though I do not think your lordship will 
 thence argue, that, because others are to be raised as he was, therefore, 
 it is necessary to believe, that because he eat after his resun-ection, 
 others, at the last day, shall eat and drink after they are raised from tlie 
 dead ; which seems to me as good an argument, as, because his undis- 
 solved body was raised out of the grave, just as it there lay entire, with- 
 out the mixture of any new particles; therefore, the corrupted and 
 consumed bodies of the dead at the resmTcction, shall be new fram&l 
 only out of those scattered particles which were once vitally united to 
 their souls, without the least mixture of any one single atom of new 
 matter. But at the last day when all men are raised, there will be no 
 need to be assui-ed of any one particular man's resurrection. It is enough 
 that every one shall appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, to receive 
 according to what he had done in his former life ; but in what sort of 
 body he shall appear, or of what particles made up, the Scripture having 
 said nothing, but that it shall be a spiritual body raised in incorruption, 
 it is not for me to determine.
 
 APPENDIX. 3G5 
 
 "Your lordship asks,* 'Were they (who saw our Saviour after li is 
 resurrection) witnesses only of some material substance then united to 
 his soul ? ' In answer, I beg your lordship to consider, whether you sup- 
 pose our Saviour was to be known to be the same man (to the witnesses 
 that were to see him, and testify his resurrection) by his soul, that coidd 
 neither be seen or known to be the same : or by his body, that could 
 be seen, and by the discernible structure and marks of it, be known to 
 be the same? When your lordship has resolved that, all that you say 
 in that page will answer itself. But because one man cannot know 
 another to be the same, but by the outward visible lineaments, and sen- 
 sible marks he has been wont to be knowTi and dLstinguished by, will 
 your lordship, therefore, argue that the G-reat Judge, at the last day, 
 who gives to each man whom he raises his new body, shall not be able 
 to know who is who, unless he gives to every one of them a body, just 
 of the same figure, size, and features, and made up of the very same 
 individual particles he had in his former life ? Whether such a way of 
 arguing for the resurrection of the same body, to be an article of faith, 
 contributes much to the strengthening the credibility of the article of 
 the resurrection of the dead, I shall leave to the judgment of others. 
 
 " Further, for the proving the resurrection of the same body, to be 
 an article of faith, your lordship says,+ ' But the apostle insists upon 
 the resurrection of Christ, not merely as an argument of the possibility 
 of ours, but of the certainty of it, J because he rose as the first-fruits; 
 Christ the first-fruits, afterwards they that are Christ's at his coming. ' 
 Answer. No doubt the resuirection of Christ is a proof of the certainty 
 of our resun'ection. But is it therefore a proof of the resuiTection of 
 the same body consisting of the same individual particles, which con- 
 curred to the making up of our body here, without the mixture of any 
 other particle of matter? I confess I see no such consequence. 
 
 " But your lordship goes ou: § ' St. Paul was aware of the objections 
 in men's minds about the resurrection of the same body; and it is of 
 great consequence as to this article, to show upon what grounds he pro- 
 ceeds : ' But some men will say, how are the dead raised up, and with 
 what body do they come ? ' First, he shows, that the seminal parts of 
 plants are wonderfully improved by the ordinary providence of God, in the 
 manner of their vegetation.' Answer. I do not perfectly understand, 
 what it is ' for the seminal parts of plants to be wonderfully improved 
 by the ordinary providence of God, in the manner of their vegetation ; ' 
 or else, perhaps, I should better see how this here tends to the proof of 
 the resurrection of the same body in your lordship's sense. 
 
 "It continues, II 'ITiey sow bare gi-ain of wheat, or of some other 
 grain, but God giveth it a body, as it hath pleased hun, and to every 
 seed, his own body. Here, ' says your lordship, ' is an identity of the 
 material sul)stance supposed.' It may be so. But to me a diversity of 
 the material substance, i. e,, of the component particles, is here supposed, 
 or in direct words said. For the words of St. Paul taken altogether 
 run thus : II ' That which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that 
 shall be, but bare grain : ' and so on, as your lordship has set down in 
 the remainder of them. From which words of St. Paul, the natural 
 
 * Second Answer. + Ibid. J 1 Cor. xv. 20. 23. 
 
 § Second Answer. || Ibid. % V. 37.
 
 366 APPENDIX. 
 
 argnment seems to me to stand thus : If the body that is put iii the 
 earth in sowing, is not that body which shall be, then the body that is 
 put in the gi-ave, is not that, i. e. , the same body that shall be. 
 
 ' ' But your lordship proves it to be the same body, by these three 
 Greek words of the text, to tSiov awj-ia, which your lordship interprets 
 tlius : * ' that proper body which belongs to it.' Answer. Indeed by 
 those Greek words, to iSiov auiiia, whether our translators have rightly 
 rendered them ' his own body, ' or your lordship more rightly, ' thai 
 proper body which belongs to it,' I formerly understood no more but 
 this, that in the production of wheat, and other grain from seed, God con- 
 tinued every species distinct ; so that from grains of wheat sown, root, 
 stalk, blade, ear, grains of wheat were produced, and not those of barley, 
 and so of the rest, which I took to be the meaning of, to every seed his 
 own body. ' No, ' says your lordship, ' these words prove, that to every 
 plant of wheat, and to eveiy grain of wheat produced in it, is given 
 the proper body that belongs to it, which is the same body with the 
 grain tliat was sown.' Answer. This I confess, I do not understand; 
 because I do not understand how one individual grain can be the same 
 with twenty, fifty, or a hundred individual grains ; for such sometimes is 
 the increase. 
 
 "But your loi-dship proves it. 'For,' says your lordship, + 'every 
 seed having that body in little, which is afterwards so much enlarged ; 
 and in grain, the seed is con-upted before its germination ; but it hath 
 its proper organical parts, which make it the same body with that which 
 it grows up to. For, although gi-ain be not divided into lobes, as other 
 seeds are, yet it hath been found, by the most accurate observations, 
 that upon separating the membranes, these seminal parts are discerned 
 in them; which afterwards grow up to that body which we call corn.' 
 In which words I beg leave to observe, that your lordship supposes that 
 a body may be enlargetl by the addition of r. hunch-ed or a thousand times 
 an much in bulk as its own matter, and yet continue the same body ; 
 which I confess I cannot understand. 
 
 "But, in the next place, if that could be so, and that the plant in its 
 full growth at harvest, increased by a thousand or million of times as 
 much new matter added to it, as it had when it lay a little concealed in 
 the gi-ain that was sown, was the veiy same body ; yet I do not think 
 that your lordship will say that every minute, insensible, and incon- 
 ceivably small grain of the hundred grains, contained in that little 
 organized seminal plant, is every one of them the very same with that 
 grain which contains that whole little seminal plant, and all those in- 
 visible grains in it. For, then, it will follow, that one grain is the same 
 with a hundred, and a hundred distinct grains the same with one ; 
 which I shall be able to assent to, when I can conceive, that aU the 
 wheat in the world is but one grain. 
 
 ' ' For I beseech you, my lord, consider what it is St. Paul here speaks 
 of : it is plain he speaks of that which is sown and dies, i. e., the grain 
 that the husbandman takes out of his bam to sow in his field, and of 
 this grain St. Paul says, ' that it is not that body that shall be. ' These 
 two, viz., ' that which is sown, and that body that shall be,' are all the 
 
 * Second Answer. t Ibid.
 
 APPENDIX. 367 
 
 bodies that St. Paul here speaks of, to represent the agreement or dif- 
 ference of men's bodies after the resurrection, with those tliey had before 
 they died. Now, I crave leave to ask your lordship, which of these two 
 is that little invisible seminal plant which your lordship here speaks oft 
 Does your lordship mean by it the grain that is sown ? But that ia not 
 what St. Paul speaks of; he could not mean this embi-yonated little 
 plant, for he could not denote it by these words, ' that which thou 
 sowest,' for that, he says, must die: but this little embryonated plant, 
 contained in the seed that is sown, dies not: or does your lordship 
 mean by it, 'the body that shall be?' But neither by these words, 
 ' the body that shall be, ' cau St. Paul be supposed to denote this insen- 
 sible little embryonated plant ; for that is already in being, contained in 
 the seed that is sown, and therefore, could not be spoken of under the 
 name of ' the body that shall be.' And, therefore, I confess I cannot see 
 of what use it is to your lordship to introduce here this third body, 
 which St. Paul mentions not, and to make that the same, or not the 
 same, with any other, when those which St. Paul speaks of are, as I 
 humbly conceive, these two visible sensible bodies, the grain sovra, and 
 the corn grown up to ear: with neither of which this insensible embi-yo- 
 nated plant can be the same body, unless an insensible body can be the 
 same body with a sensible body, and a little body can be the same body 
 with one ten thousand, or a hundred thousand times as big as itself. 
 So that yet, I confess, I see not the resurrection of the same body 
 proved, from these words of St. Paul, to be an article of faith. 
 
 " Your lordship goes on : * ' St. Paul indeed saith, ' That we sow not 
 that body that shall be;' but he speaks not of the identity, but the 
 perfection of it. Here my understanding faUs me again : for I cannot 
 understand St. Paul to say. That the same identical sensible grain of 
 ■wheat, which was sown at seed-time, is the very same vrith every grain of 
 wheat in ihfi ear at harvest, that sprang from it : yet, so I must under- 
 stand it, to make it prove that the same sensible body that is laid in the 
 gvskve, shall be the very same with that which shall be raised at the , 
 resurrection. For I do not know of any seminal body in little, con- 
 tained in the dead carcass of any man or woman, which, as your lordship 
 says, in seeds, having its proper oi'ganical parts, shall afterwards be 
 enlarged, and at the resurrection grow up into the same man. For I 
 never thought of any seed or seminal parts, either of plant or animal, 
 ' so wonderfully improved by the providence of God, ' whereby the same 
 plant or animal should beget itself; nor ever heard that it was by 
 Divine Providence designed to produce the same individual, but for the 
 producing of future and distinct individuals, for the continuation of the 
 same species. 
 
 " Your lordship's next words are,t 'And although there be such a 
 difference from the grain itself, when it comes up to be perfect com, with 
 root, stalk, blade, and ear, that it may be said to outward appearance 
 not to be the same body ; yet with regard to the seminal and organical 
 parts, it is as much the same, as a man grown up is the same with the 
 embryo in the womb.' Answer. It does not appear, by anything I 
 can find in the text, that St. Paul here compared the body produced, 
 
 * Second Answer. t Ibid.
 
 3G8 APPENDIX. 
 
 with the seminal and organical parts contained in the grain it sprang' 
 from, but with the whole sensible grain that was sown. Microscopes 
 had not then discovered the little embryo plant in the seed: and sup- 
 posing it should have been revealed to St. Paul, (though in the Scrip- 
 ture we find little • revelation of natural philosophy, ) yet an argument 
 taken from a thing perfectly unknown to the Corinthians, whom he 
 wrote to, coidd be of no manner of use to them : nor serve at all 
 either to instruct or convince them. But granting that those St. Paul 
 wi-ote to, knew it as well as Mr. Lewenhoek ; yet your lordship thereby 
 proves not the raising of the same body : your lordship says : ' It is as 
 much the same' (I crave leave to add body) *as a man grown up is the 
 same ' (same what, I beseech your lordship ?) ' with the embryo in the 
 womb.' For that the body of the embryo in the womb, and body of 
 the man grown up, is the same body, I think no one will say ; unless 
 he can persuade himself, that a body that is not the hundredth part of 
 another, is the same wdth that other; which I think no one will do 
 till, having renounced this dangerous way by ideas of thinking and 
 reasoning, he has learned to say, that a part and the whole are the 
 same. 
 
 * ' Yom- lordship goes on : * ' And although many arguments may be 
 used to prove that a man is not the same, because life, which depends 
 upon the course of the blood and the manner of respiration and nutrition, 
 is so different in both states : yet that man would be thought ridiculous, 
 that should seriously affirm, that it was not the same man.' And your 
 lordship says, ' I grant, that the variation of great particles of matter 
 in plants, alters not the identity : and that the organization of the parts 
 in one coherent body, partaking of one common life, makes the identity 
 of a plant.' Answer. My lord, I think the question is not about the 
 same man, but the same body. For, though I do say,t (somewhat 
 differently from what your lordship sets down as my words here, ) ' That 
 that which has such an organization, as is fit to receive and distribute 
 nourishment, so as to continue and frame the wood, bark, and leaves, 
 &c., of a plant in which consists the vegetable life, continues to be the 
 same plant, as long as it partakes of the same life, though that life be 
 commmiicated to new particles of matter, vitally united to the living 
 plant : ' yet, I do not remember that I anywhere say, ' That a plant, 
 which was once no larger than an oaten straw, and afterwards grows 
 to be above a fathom about, is the same body, though it be still the 
 same plant.' 
 
 "The well-known tree in Epping Forest, called the King's Oak, 
 which, from not weighing an ounce at fii-st, grew to have many tons of 
 timber in it, was all along the same oak, the very same plant ; but no- 
 body, I think, will say that it was the same body, when it weighed a 
 ton, as it was when it weighed but an ounce ; unless he has a mind to 
 signalize himself by saying. That that is the same body Avhich has a 
 thousand pai-ticles of different matter in it, for one particle that is the 
 same ; which is no better than to say, That a thousand different particles 
 are but one and the same particle, and one and the same particle is a 
 thousand different particles ; a thousand times a greater absurdity, than 
 
 * Second Answer. t Essay, B. 2. c. 27. par. 4.
 
 APPENDIX. 369 
 
 to say half is the whole, or the whole is the same with the half; which 
 will be improved ten thousand times yet further, if a man shall say, (as 
 your lordship seems to me to argue here, ) that that great oak is the 
 very same body with the acorn it sprang from, because there was in 
 that acorn an oak in little, which was afterw%ards (as your lordship ex- 
 presses it) so much enlarged as to make that mighty tree. For this 
 embr}'o, if I may so call it, or oak in little, being not the hundredth, 
 or perhaps, the thousandth part of the acorn, and the acorn being not 
 the thousandth part of the grown oak, it will be very extraordinary to 
 prove the acorn and the grown oak to he the same body, by a way 
 wherein it cannot be pretended, that above one particle of a hundred 
 thousand, or a million, is the same in the one body that it was in the 
 other. From which way of reasoning it will follow, that a nurse and 
 her sucking child have the same liody ; and be past doubt, that a mother 
 and her infant have the same body. But this is a way of certaint}^ 
 found out to establish the articles of faith, and to overturn the new 
 method of certainty that your lordship says I have started, which is 
 apt to leave men's minds more doubtful than before. 
 
 " And now I desire your lordship to consider of what use it is to you, 
 in the present case, to quote out of my Essay these words : ' That par- 
 taking of one common life, makes the identity of a plant ; ' since the 
 question is not about the identity of a plant, but about the identity of a 
 body. It being a very different thing to be the same plant, and to be 
 the same body. For that which makes the same plant does not make 
 the same body ; the one being the partaking in the same continued vege- 
 table life ; the other, the consisting of the same numerical particles of 
 matter. And, therefore, your lordship's inference from my words above 
 quoted, in these which you subjoin,* seems tome a very strange one, 
 viz., 'So that in things capable of any sort of life, the identity is con- 
 sistent with a continued succession of pai-ts : and so the wheat grown 
 np is the same body with the grain that was sown.' For I believe, if 
 my words, from which you infer, ' and so the wheat gi-own up is the 
 same body with the grain that was sown,' were put into a sj'Uogism, 
 this would hardly be brought to be the conclusion. 
 
 " But your lordship goes on with consequence upon consequence, 
 though I have not e3'es acute enough everj'where to see the connexion, 
 till you bring it to the resurrection of the same body. The connexion 
 of your lordship's words t is as followeth : ' And thus the alteration of 
 the parts of the body at the resurrection, is consistent with its identity, 
 if its organization and life be the same ; and this is a real identity of 
 the body, which depends not upon consciousness. From whence it 
 follows, that to make the same body, no more is required, but restoring 
 life to the organized parts of it.' If the question were about raising the 
 same plant, I do not say but there might be some appearance for makino- 
 such an inference from my words as this, ' WTience it follows, that to 
 make the same plant, no more is required but to restore life to the 
 organized parts of it.' But this deduction, wherein from those words 
 of mine, that speak only of the identity of a plant, your lordship 
 infers, there is no more required to make the same body, than to 
 
 * Second Answer. t Ibid. 
 
 VOL. II. 2 B
 
 370 APPENDIX. If 
 
 make the same plant, being too subtle for me, I leave to my reader to 
 find out. 
 
 " Yeur lordship goes on and says,* 'That I grant likewise, that the 
 identity of the same man consists in a participation of the same con- 
 tinued life, by constantly fleeting particles of matter in succession, 
 vitally united to the same organized body.' Answer. I speak in these 
 words of the identity of the same man, and your lordship thence roundly 
 concludes ; ' so that there is no difficulty of the sameness of the body.' 
 But your lordship knows, that I do not take these two sounds, man and 
 body, to stand for the same thing ; nor the identity of the man to be the 
 same with the identity of the body. 
 
 " But let us read out your lordship's words, t ' So that there Is 
 no difficulty as to the sameness of the body, if life were continued : and 
 if, by Divine Power, life be restored to that material substance, which 
 was before united by a reunion of the soul to it, there is no reason to 
 deny the identity of the body, not from the consciousness of the soul, 
 but from that life which is the result of the union of the soul and body.' 
 
 " If I understand your lordship right, you, in these words, from the 
 passages above quoted out of my book, argue, that from those words of 
 mine it will follow, ' That it is or may be the same body that is raised 
 at the resurrection.' If so, my lord, your lordship has then proved, 
 That my book is not inconsistent with, but conformable to, this article 
 of the resurrection of the same body, which your lordship contends for, 
 and will have to be an article of faith : for though I do by no means 
 deny that the same bodies shall be raised at the last day, yet I see 
 nothing your lordship has said to prove it to be an article of faith. 
 
 " But your lordship goes on with your proofs, and says,t 'But St. 
 Paul still supposes, that it must be that material substance to which the 
 soul was before united. ' For, ' saith he, ' it is sown in corruption, it is 
 raised in incon-uption : it is sown in dishonour, it is raised in glory : it is 
 sown in weakness, it is raised in jjower : it is sown a natural body, it 
 is raised a spiritual body. Can such a material substance, which was 
 never united to the body, be said to be sown in corruption, and weak- 
 ness, and dishonour? either, therefore, he must speak of the same body, 
 or his meaning cannot be comprehended.' I answer, 'Can such a ma- 
 terial substance, which was never laid in the grave, be said to be sown?' 
 &c. For your lordship says, § ' You do not say the same individual 
 particles, which were united at the point of death, shall be raised at the 
 last day ; ' and no other particles are laid in the grave, but such as are 
 united at the point of death ; either, therefore, your lordship must speak 
 of another body, different from that which was sown, which shall be 
 raised, or else your meaning, I think, cannot be comprehended. 
 
 " But whatever be your meaning, your lordship proves it to be St. 
 Paul's meaning, that the same body shall be raised, which was sown, in 
 these following words : || ' For what does all this relate to a conscious prin- 
 ciple?' Answer. The Scripture being express, That the same person 
 should be raised and appear before the judgment seat of Chrtst, that 
 eveiy one may receive according to what he had done in his body; it 
 was vei-y well suited to common apprehensions, (which refined not about 
 
 * Second Answer. t Ibid. J Ibid. § Ibid. (1 Ibid.
 
 APPENDIX. 371 
 
 'particles that had been vitally united to the eoul,') to apeak of the body, 
 which each one was to have after the resurrection, as he would be apt to 
 speak of it himself. For it being his body both before and after the 
 resurrection, every one ordinarily speaks of his body as the same, though 
 in a strict and philosophical sense, as your lordship speaks, it be not the 
 very same. Thus it is no impropriety of speech to say. This body of 
 mine, which was formerly strong and plump, is now weak and wasted, 
 though, in such a sense as you are speaking here, it be not the same 
 body. Revelation declares nothing anywhere concerning the same body, 
 in your lordship's sense of the same body, which appears not to have 
 been thought of. The apostle directly proposes nothing for or against 
 the same body, as necessai-y to be believed ; that which he is plain and 
 direct in, is, his opposing and condemning such curious questions about 
 the body, which coidd serve only to peiijlex, not to confirm, what was 
 material and necessary for them to believe, viz., a day of judgment and 
 retribution to men in a future state ; and, therefore, it is no wonder 
 that, mentioning their bodies, he should use a way of speaking, suited 
 to vulgar notions, from which it would be hard positively to conclude 
 anything for the determining of this question (especially against expres- 
 sions in the same discourse that plainly incline to the other side) in a 
 matter which, as it appears, the apostle thought not necessary to de- 
 termine ; and the Spirit of God thought not fit to gratify any one's 
 curiosity in. 
 
 "But your lordship says,* 'The apostle speaks plainly of that body 
 which was once quickened, and afterwards falls to corruption, and is to 
 be restored with more noble qualities.' I wish your lordship had quoted 
 the words of St. Paul, wherein he speaks plainly of that numerical body 
 that was once quickened, they would presently decide this question. 
 But your lordship proves it by these following words of St. Paul : ' For 
 this corruption must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on 
 immortality ;' to which your lordship adds, that ' you do not see how he 
 could more expressly affirm the identity of this corruptible body, with 
 that after the resurrection. ' How expressly it is affij-med by the apostle, 
 shall be considered by and by. In the meantime, it is past doubt that 
 your lordship best knows what you do or do not see. But this I would 
 be bold to say, that if St. Paul had anywhere in this chapter (where 
 there are so many occasions for it, Lf it had been necessary to have been 
 believed,) but said in express words, that the same bodies should be 
 raised, every one else, who thinks of it, will see he had more expressly 
 affirmed the identity of the bodies which men now have, with those they 
 shall have after the resurrection. 
 
 "The remainder of your lordship's period is:t 'And that without 
 any respect to the principle of self- consciousness.' Answer. These 
 words, I doubt not, have some meaning, but I must own I know not 
 what ; either towards the proof of the resurrection of the same body, or 
 to show that anything I have said concerning self- consciousness is incon- 
 sistent; for I do not remember that I have anywhere said that the 
 identity of body consisted in self-consciousnass. 
 
 " From your preceding words, your lordship concludes thus :+ 'And 
 
 * Second Answer. t Ibid. J Ibid. 
 
 2b 2
 
 372 APPENDIX. ^ 
 
 so if the Scripture be the sole foundation of our faith, this is an article 
 of it.' My lord, to make the conclusion unquestionable, I humbly con- 
 ceive the words must run thus : And so if the Scripture, and your lord- 
 ship's interpretation of it, be the sole foundation of our faith, the re- 
 suiTection of the same body is an article of it. For, with submission, 
 your lordship has neither produced express words of Scripture for it, nor 
 so proved that to be the meaning of any of those' words of Scripture 
 which you have produced for it, that a man who reads and sincerely 
 endeavours to understand the Scripture, cannot but find himself obliged 
 to believe as expressly, that the same bodies of the dead, in your lord- 
 ship's sense, shall be raised, as that the dead shall be raised. And I 
 crave leave to give your lordship this one reason for it. He who reads 
 with attention this discourse of St. Paul,* where he discourses of the 
 resurrection, wiU see that he plainly distinguishes between the dead that 
 shall be raised, and the bodies of the dead. For it is vtKpoi, wavrsc, 
 Of, are the nominative cases tot tyft'poi/rai, ZitjoTroiT]97](7ovTai, (yip- 
 Oriffovrai, all along, and not abijxara, bodies ; which one may with reason 
 think would somewhere or other have been expressed, if all this had 
 been said to propose it as an article of faith, that the very same bodies 
 should be raised. The same manner of speaking the Spirit of God 
 observes all through the New Tt«tament, where it is said, + raise the 
 dead, quicken or make alive the dead, the resurrection of the dead. 
 Nay, these very words of our Savioui', II urged by your lordship, for the 
 resurrection of the same body, nin thus : Ylavrtq o'l iv toTq fivjjfieioiQ 
 UKOvaovrai ttjq (fioJVTJg avrov. Kal iKnoptixjovTai, o'lrd dyaOd Troirttravrtg 
 tiQ civaffTacnv Cf^ijQ, oi £i rd ^avXa vpd^avng tig dvacraaiv Kpiatwg. 
 Would not a well-meaning searcher of the Scriptures be apt to think, 
 that if the thing here intended by our Saviour were to teach and pro- 
 pose it as an article of faith, necessary to be believed by every one, 
 that the very same bodies of the dead should be raised ; would not, I 
 say, any one be apt to think, that if our Saviour meant so, the words 
 should rather have been, navTa rd (Tiiifiara it kv rdig fivmii'ioig, i.e., 
 all the bodies that are in the graves, rather than all who are in the 
 graves ; which must denote persons, and not precisely bodies 1 
 
 " Another evidence that St. Paul makes a distinction between the 
 dead, and the bodies of the dead, so that the dead cannot be taken in 
 this, 1 Cor. XV., to stand precisely for the bodies of the dead, are these 
 woi'ds of the apostle :§ 'But some man will say, how are the dead 
 raised 1 and with what bodies do they come ? ' Which words, dead and 
 they, if supposed to stand precisely for the bodies of the dead, the 
 question will run thus: How are the dead bodies raised? and with what 
 bodies do the dead bodies come ? Which seems to have no. very agreeable 
 sense. 
 
 "This therefore being so, that the Spirit of God keeps so expressly 
 to this phrase or form of speaking, in the New Testament, ' of raising, 
 quickening, rising, resurrection, &c., of the dead,' where the resurrection 
 of the last day is spoken of ; and that the body is not mentioned, but 
 
 * 1 Cor. XV. t Ver. 15. 22. 23. 29. 32. 35. 52. 
 
 t Matt. xxii. 31. Mark xii. 26. John v. 21. Acts xvi. 7. Rom. iv. 17. 
 2 Cor. i. 9. 1 Thess. iv. 14. 16. || John v. 28. 29. § Ver. 35.
 
 APPENDIX. 373 
 
 in answer to this question, ' With what bodies sliall tliose dead, who 
 are raised, come?' so that by the dead cannot precisely be meant the 
 dead bodies ; I do not see but a good Christian, who reads the Scripture 
 with an intention to believe all that is there revealed to him, concerning 
 the resurrection, may acquit himself of his duty therein, without enter- 
 ing into the inquiiy, whether the dead shall have the very same bodies 
 or not ; which sort of inquiry, the apostle, by the appellation he bestows 
 here on him that makes it, seems not much to encourage. Noi-, if he 
 shall think himself bound to determine concerning the identity of the 
 bodies of the dead, raised at the last day ; will he, by the remainder of 
 St. Paul's answer, find the determination of the apostle to be much in 
 favour of the very same body, unless the being told, that the body sown 
 is not that body that shall be ; that the body raised is as different from 
 that which was laid down, as the flesh of man is from the flesh of beasts, 
 fishes, and birds ; or as the sun, moon, and stars, aie different one from 
 another ; or as different as a corruptible, weak, natural, moi-tal body, is 
 from an incorruptible, powerful, spiritual, immortal body; a.nd, lastly, 
 as different as a body that is flesh and blood, is from a body that is not 
 flesh and blood.' 'For flesh and blood cannot,' says St. Paul, in this 
 very place,* 'inherit the kingdom of God:' unless, I say, all this, which 
 is contained in St. Paul's words, can be supposed to be the way to deliver 
 this as an article of faith, which is required to be believed by every one, 
 viz.. That the dead should be raised with the very same bodies that they 
 had before in this life ; which article proposed in these or the like plain 
 and express words, could have left no room for doubt in the meanest 
 capacities, nor for contest in the most perverse minds. 
 
 Your lordship adds in the next words, t ' And so it hath been always 
 understood by the Christian church,' viz.. That the resurrection of the 
 Sft,me body, in your lordship's sense of the same body, is an article of 
 faith. Answer. What the Christian church has always understood, is 
 beyond my knowledge. But for those who, coming short of your lord- 
 ship's great learning, cannot gather their articles of faith from the under- 
 standing of all the whole Chiistian church, ever since the preaching of 
 the Gospel, (who make the far greater j>art of Christians, I think I may 
 say nine hundred and ninety and nine of a thousand,) but are forced to 
 have recourse to the Scripture, to find them there, I do not see that 
 they wUl easily find there this proposed as an article of faith, that there 
 shall be a resurrection of the same body ; but that there shall be a resur- 
 rection of the dead, without explicitly determining, That they shall l)e 
 raised with bodies made up wholly of the same particles which were 
 once vitally united to their souls, in their former life, without the mixture 
 of any one other particle of matter ; which is that which your lordship 
 means by the same body. 
 
 " But supposing your lordship to have demonstrated this to be an 
 article of faith, though I crav6 leave to own that I do not see that all 
 that your lordship has said here, makes it so much as probable : What 
 is all this to me ? * Yes, ' says your lordship in the following words, J 
 ' my idea of personal identity is inconsistent with it, for it makes the 
 same body which was here united to the soul, not to be necessary to the 
 
 * John V. 50. t Second Answer. i Ibid.
 
 374 APPENDIX. 
 
 doctrine of the resurrection. But any material substance united to the 
 same principle of consciousness, makes the same body. 
 
 " This is an argument of your lordship's, which I am obliged to an- 
 swer to. But is it not fit I should first understand it, before I answer 
 it ? Now, here, I do not well know, what it is to make a thing not to 
 be necessary to the doctrine of the resurrection. But to help myself 
 out the best I can, with a g-uess, I will conjecture (which, in disputing 
 with learned men, is not very safe) your lordship's meaning is. That 
 ' my idea of personal identity makes it not necessary, that for the raising 
 the same person, the body should be the same.' 
 
 " Your lordship's next word is, ' but ; ' to which I am ready to reply, 
 but what ? what does my idea of personal identity do ? for something of 
 that kind, the adversative particle 'but' should, in the ordinary con- 
 struction of our language, introduce to make the proposition clear and 
 intelligible: but here is no such thing. 'But,' is one of your lordship's 
 privileged particles, which I must not meddle with ; for fear your lord- 
 ship complain of me again, ' as so severe a critic, that for the least am- 
 biguity in any particle, fill up pages in my answer, to make my book 
 look considerable for the bulk of it.' But since this proposition here, 
 ' my idea of personal identity, makes the same body which was here 
 united to the soul, not necessary to the doctrine of the resurrection ; but 
 any material substance being united to the same principle of conscious- 
 ness, makes the same body," is brought to prove my idea of personal 
 identity inconsistent with the article of the resurrection ; I must make it 
 out in some direct sense or other, that I may see whether it be both true 
 and conclusive. I, therefore, venture to read it thus : ' my idea of 
 personal identity makes the same body which was here united to the 
 soul, not to be necessary at the resurrection, but allows, that any ma- 
 terial substance being united to the same principle of consciousness, 
 makes the same body. Ergo, my idea of personal identity, is incon- 
 sistent with the article of the resurrection of the same body. 
 
 " If this be your lordship's sense in this passage, as I here have 
 guessed it to be, or else I know not what it is, I answer, 
 
 " 1. That my idea of personal identity does not allow that any ma- 
 terial substance, 'being united to the same principle of consciousness, 
 makes the same body. I say no such thing in my book, nor anything 
 from whence it may be inferred ; and your lordship would have done 
 me a favour to have set down the words where I say so, or those from 
 which you infer so, and showed how it follows from anything I have 
 said. 
 
 "2. Granting, that it were a consequence from my idea of personal 
 identity, that ' any material substance being united to the same prin- 
 ciple of consciousness, makes the same body;' this would not prove 
 that my idea of personal identity was inconsistent with this proposition, 
 ' that the same body shall be raised ; ' but, on the contrai-y, affirms it : 
 since, if I affinn, as I do, that the same persons shall be raised, and it 
 be a consequence of my idea of personal identity, that 'any material 
 substance being united to the same principle of consciousness, makes the 
 same body ; ' it follows, that if the same person be raised, the same body 
 must be raised : and so I have herein not only said nothing inconsistent 
 with the resurrection of the same body, but have said more for it than
 
 APPJJNDIX. 375 
 
 your lordship. For there can be notliing plainer, than that in the Scrip- 
 ture it is revealed, that the same persons shall be raised, and ajipear be- 
 fore the judgment- seat of Christ, to answer for what they have done 
 in their bodies. If, therefore, whatever matter be joined to the same 
 principle of consciousness makes the same body, it is demonstration, 
 that if the same persons are raised, they have the same bodies. 
 
 ' ' How then your lordship makes this an inconsistency with the re- 
 surrection is beyond my conception. 'Yes,' says your lordiship,* 'it is 
 inconsistent with it, for it makes the same body, which was here united 
 to the so\il, not to be necessary.' 
 
 "3. I answer, therefore. Thirdly, That this is the first time I ever 
 learned, that ' not necessary, ' was the same vidth ' inconsistent.' I say 
 that a body made up of the same numerical parts of matter, is not 
 necessary to the making of the same person ; from whence it will indeed 
 follow, that to the resurrection of the same person, the same numerical 
 particles of matter are not required. What does your lordship infer 
 fi'om hence ? to wit, this : therefore, he who thinks that the same 
 particles of matter are not necessary to the making of the same person, 
 cannot believe that the same persons shall be raised with bodies made 
 of the very same particles of matter, if God should reveal that it shall be 
 so, viz., that the same persons shall be raised with the same bodies they 
 had before. Which is all one as to say, that he who thought the blow- 
 ing of rams' horns was not necessary in itself to the falling down of the 
 walls of Jericho, could not believe that they should fall upon the blow- 
 ing of rams' horns, when God had declared it should be so. 
 
 "Your lord.ship says, 'my idea of personal identity is inconsistent 
 with the article of the resurrection ; ' the reason you ground it on is this, 
 because it makes not the same body necessary to the making the same 
 person. Let us grant your lordship's consequence to be good, what will 
 follow from it? No less than this, that your lordship's notion {for I dare 
 not say your lordship has any so dangerous things as ideas) of personal 
 identity, is inconsistent with the article of the resuiTeotion. The demon- 
 stration of it is thus ; your lordship says,t ' It is not necessary that the 
 body to be raised at the last day, should consist of the same particles of 
 matter which were united at the point of death ; for there must be 
 a great alteration in them in a lingering disease; as if a fat man falls 
 into a consumption : you do not say the same particles which the 
 sinner had at the very time of commission of his sins : for then a long 
 sinner must have a vast body, considering the continual spending of 
 particles by perspiration.' And again, here your lordship says, J 'you 
 allow the notion of personal identity to belong to the same man under 
 several changes of matter.' From which words it is evident, that your 
 lordship supposes a person in this world may be continued and preserved 
 the same in a body not consisting of the same individual particles of 
 matter ; and hence it demonstratively follows, that let your lordship's 
 notion of personal identity be what it will, it makes the same body not 
 to be necessary to the same person ; and, therefore, it is by your lord- 
 ship's rule, inconsistent with the article of the resuirection. When your 
 lordship shall think fit to clear your own notion of personal identity from 
 
 * Second Answer. t Ibid. + Ibid.
 
 376 APPENDIX. 
 
 this inconsistency with the article of the resurrection, I do not doubt but 
 my idea of personal identity will be thereby cleared too. Till then, all 
 inconsistency with that article, which your lordship has here charged on 
 mine, will unavoidably fall upon your lordship's too. 
 
 ' ' But for the clearing of both, give me leave to say, my lord, that 
 whatsoever is not necessary, does not, thereby, become inconsistent. It 
 is not necessary to the same person, that his body should always consist 
 of the same numerical particles ; this is demonstration, because the 
 particles of the bodies of the same persons, in this life, change every 
 moment, and your lordship cannot deny it ; and yet this makes it not 
 inconsistent with God's preserving, if he thinks fit, to the same persons, 
 bodies consisting of the same numerical particles always, from the re- 
 surrection to eternity. And so, likewise, though I say anything that 
 supposes it not necessary, that the same numerical particles, which were 
 vitally united to the soul in this life, should be reunited to it at the resur- 
 rection, and constitute the body it shall then have ; yet it is not incon- 
 sistent with this, that God may, if he pleases, give to everyone a body 
 consisting only of such particles as were before vitally united to his soul. 
 And thus, I think, I have cleared ray book from all that inconsistency 
 which your lordship charges on it, and would persuade the world it has, 
 with the article of* the resurrection of the dead. 
 
 ' ' Only before I leave it, I will set down the remainder of what your 
 lordship says upon this head, tliat though I see not the coherence nor 
 tendency of it, nor the force of any argument in it against me ; yet that 
 nothing may be omitted that your lordship has thought fit to entertain 
 your reader with, on this new point, nor any one have reason to suspect, 
 that I have passed by any word of your lordship's (on this now first in- 
 troduced subject) wherein he might find your lordship had proved what 
 you had promised in your title-page. Your remaining words are these:* 
 ' The dispute is not how far personal identity in itself may consist in the 
 very same material substance; for we allow the notion of personal 
 identity to belong to the same man under several changes of matter; 
 but whether it doth not depend upon a vital union between the soul and 
 body, and the life which is consequent upon it ; and therefore in the 
 "resurrection, the same material substance must be reunited, or else it 
 cannot be called a resurrection, but a renovation, i. e., it may be a new 
 life, but not a raising the body from the dead. ' I confess I do not see 
 how what is here ushered in b}' the words, ' and therefore, ' is a conse- 
 quence from the preceding words ; but as to the propriety of the name, 
 I think it will not be much questioned, that if the same man rise who 
 was dead, it may very properly be called the resuiTection of the dead ; 
 which is the language of the Scripture. 
 
 ' ' I must not part with this article of the resurrection, without return- 
 ing my thanks to your lordship for making me t take notice of a fault 
 in my Essay. When I wrote that book, I took it for granted, as I 
 doubt not but many others have done, that the Scripture had mentioned, 
 in express terms, ' the resurrection of the body.' But upon the occasion 
 your lordship has given me in your last letter, to look a little more 
 naiTOwly into what revelation has declared concerning the resuiTection, 
 
 * Second Answer. t Ibid.
 
 APPENDIX. 377 
 
 and finding no such express words in the Scripture, as tliat ' the body 
 shall rise, or be raised, or the resurrection of the body ; ' I shall, in the 
 next edition of it, change these words of my book, * • The dead bodies of 
 men shall rise, ' into these of the Scripture, ' the dead shall rise. ' Not 
 that I question that the dead shall be raised with bodies ; but in matters 
 of revelation I think it not only safest, but our duty, as far as any one 
 delivers it for revelation, to keep close to the words of the Scripture, 
 unless he will assume to himself the authority of one insjiired, or make 
 himself wiser than the Holy Spirit himself. If I had spoken of the re- 
 surrection in precisely Scripture terms, I had avoided giving your lord- 
 ship the occasion of makingf here such a verbal rellection on my words j 
 'What! not if there be an idea of identity as to the body?' " 
 
 No. VII.— Vol. 11. page 14, par. 11. 
 
 "This, as I understand," replies Mr. Locke to the Bishop of Wor- 
 cester's objection, "is to prove that the abstract general essence of any 
 sort of things, or things of the same denomination, v.g., of man or mari- 
 gold, hath a real being out of the understanding ; which, I confess, I 
 am not able to conceive. Your lordship's proof here brought out of my 
 Essay, concerning the sun, I humbly conceive will not i-each it ; because 
 what is said there, does not at all concern the real, but nominal essence, 
 as is evident from hence, that the idea I speak of there is a complex 
 idea ; but we have no complex idea of the internal constitution, or real 
 essence of the sun. Besides, I say expressly. That our distinguishing 
 substances into species by names, is not at all founded on their real 
 essences. So that the sun being one of these substances, I cannot, in 
 the place quoted by your lordship, be supposed to mean by essence of 
 the sun, the real essence of the sun, unless I had so expressed it. But 
 all this argument will be at an end, when your lordship shall have ex- 
 plained what you mean by these words, ' time sun.' In my sense of 
 them, anything will be a true sun, to which the name sun may be truly 
 and properly applied ; and to that substance or thing the name sun may 
 be truly and properly applied, which has united in it that combination 
 of sensible qualities, by which anything else that is called sun, is distin- 
 guished from other substances, i.e., by the nominal essence; and thus 
 our sun is denominated and distinguished from a fixed star, not by a 
 real essence that we do not know, (for if we did, it is possible we should 
 find the real essence or constitution of one of the fixed stars to be the 
 same with that of our sun,) but by a complex idea of sensible qualities 
 co-existing, which, wherever they are found, make a true sun. And 
 thus I crave leave to answer your lordship's question : ' For Vhat is it 
 makes the second sun to be a true sun, but having the same real essence 
 with the first? If it were but a nominal essence, then the second would 
 have nothing but the name.' 
 
 ' ' I humbly conceive, if it had the nominal essence, it would have 
 something besides the name, viz., That nominal essence which is suf- 
 ficient to denominate it truly a sun, or to make it to be a true sun, 
 though we know nothing of that real essence whereon that nominal one 
 depends. Your lordship will then ai^e, that that real essence is in the 
 
 ""' Essay, B. 4, c. 18, par. 7. t Second Answer.
 
 378 APPENDIX. 
 
 second sun, and makes the second sun. I grant it when the second sun 
 comes to exist, so as to be perceived by us to have all the ideas contained 
 in our complex idea, i. e. , in our nominal essence of the sun. For should it 
 be true, (as is now believed by astronomers,) that the real essence of the 
 sun were in any of the fixed stars, yet such a star could not for that be 
 bj' us called a sun, whilst it answers not our complex idea, or nominal 
 essence of a sun. But how far that wiU prove, that the essences of 
 things, as they are knowable by us, have a reality in them distinct from 
 that of abstract ideas in the mind, which are merely creatures of the 
 mind, I do not see ; and we shall further inquire, in considering your 
 lordship's following words : ' Therefore,' say you, ' there must be a real 
 essence in every individual of the same kind.' Yes, and I beg leave of 
 your lordship to say, of a different kind too. For that alone is it which 
 makes it to be what it is. 
 
 ' ' That every individual substance has a real, internal, individual con- 
 stitution, i. c, a real essence, that makes it to be what it is, I readily 
 grant. Upon this, your lordship says, ' Peter, James, and John, are 
 all true and real men. ' Answer. Without doubt, supposing them to be 
 men, they are true and real men, i. e., supposing the name of that species 
 belongs to them. And so three bobaques are aU true and real bobaques, 
 supposing the name of that species of animals l)elongs to them. 
 
 ' ' For I beseech your lordship to consider, whether in your way of argu- 
 ing, by naming them Peter, James, and John, names famihar to us as ap- 
 propriated to individuals of the species man, your lordship does not first 
 suppose them men, and then very safely ask, whether they be not aU true 
 and real men ? But if I should ask your lordship whether Weweena, 
 Chuckery, and Cousheda, were true and real men or not ? your lordship 
 would not be able to tell me, till I have pointed out to your lordship 
 the individuals called by those names, your lordship, by examining whe- 
 ther they had in them those sensible qualities which your lordship has 
 combined into that complex idea to which you give the specific name 
 man, determined them all, or some of them, to be the species which you 
 call man, and so to be true and real man ; which, when your lordship 
 has detennined, it is plain you did it by that which is only the nominal 
 essence, as not knowing the real one. But your lordship further asks, 
 ' What is it makes Peter, James, and John, real men? Is it the at- 
 tributing the general name to them? No, certainly; but that the true 
 and real essence of a man is in every one of them.' 
 
 ' ' If when your lordship asks, ' What makes them men ? ' your lord- 
 ship used the word making in the proper sense for the efficient cause, 
 and in that sense it were true, that the essence of a man, i. e., the spe- 
 cific essence of that species made a man ; it would undoubtedly follow, 
 that this specific essence had a reality beyond that of being only a gene- 
 ral abstract idea in the mind. But when it is said, that it is the true and 
 real essence of a man in every one of them, that makes Peter, James, and 
 John, true and real men, the true and real meaning of these words is no 
 more, but that the essence of that species, i. e., the properties answering 
 the complex abstract idea to which the specific name is given, being 
 foimd in them, that makes them be properly and truly called men, or 
 is the reason why they are called men. Your lordship adds, * And we 
 must be as certain of this, as we are that they are men. '
 
 APPENDIX. 379 
 
 " How, I beseech your lordship, are we certain that they are men, 
 but only Ijy our senses finding those properties in them which answer 
 the abstract complex idea which is in our minds, of the specific idea to 
 which we have annexed the specific name man? This I take to be the 
 true meaning of what your lordship says in the next words, viz. , ' They 
 take their denomination of being men from that common nature or 
 essence which is in them ; ' and I am apt to think these words will not 
 hold true in any other sense. 
 
 "Your lordship's fourth inference begins thus: 'That the general 
 idea is not made from the simple ideas by the mere act of the mind ab- 
 stracting from circumstances, but from reason and consideration of the 
 nature of things.' 
 
 ' ' I thought, my lord, that reason and consideration had been acts 
 of the mind, mere acts of the mind, when anything was done by them. 
 Your lordship gives a reason for it, viz., ' For when we see several in- 
 dividuals that have the same powers and properties, we thence infer, 
 that there must be something common to all, which makes them of 
 one kind.' 
 
 ' ' I grant the inference to be true ; but must beg leave to deny that 
 this proves that the general idea the name is annexed to, is not made by 
 the mind. I have said, and it agrees with what your lordship here says, * 
 That ' the mind in making its complex ideas of substances, only follows 
 nature, and puts no ideas together, which are not supposed to have a 
 union In nature. Nobody joins the voice of a sheep with the shape ef 
 a horse ; nor the colour of lead with the weight and fixedness of gold 
 to be the complex ideas of any real substances ; unless he has a mind 
 to fill his head with chimeras, and his discourses with unintelligible 
 words. Men observing certain qualities, always joined and existing to- 
 gether, therein copied nature, and of ideas so united, made their complex 
 ones of substance, &c.' Which is very little different from what your 
 lordship here says, ' that it is from our observation of individuals, that 
 we come to infer, ' that there is something common to them aU.' But 
 I do not see how it will thence follow, that the general or specific idea is 
 not made by the mere act of the mind. ' No, ' says your lordship, ' there 
 is something common to them aU, which makes them of one kind ; and 
 if the diiFerence of kinds be real, that which makes them all of one kind, 
 must not be a nominal, but real essence.' 
 
 " This may be some objection to the name of nominal essence; but 
 is, as I humbly conceive, none to the thing designed by it. There is an 
 internal constitution of things, on which their properties depend. This 
 your lordship and I are agreed of, and this we call the real essence. 
 There are also certain complex ideas, or combinations of these properties 
 in men's minds to which they commonly annex specific names, or names 
 of sorts or kinds of things. This, I believe, your lordship does not deny. 
 These complex ideas, for want of a better name, I have called nominal 
 essences ; how properly, I will not dispute. But if any one will hel[) 
 me to a better name for them, I am ready to receive it : till then, I 
 must, to express myself, use this. Now, my lord, body, life, and the 
 power of reasoning, being not the real essence of a man, as I believe 
 
 * B. 3, c. 6, par. 28, 29.
 
 380 APPENDIX. 
 
 your lordship will agree, will your lordship say, that they are not enough 
 to make the thing wherein they are found, of the kind called man, and 
 not of the kind called baboon, because the difference of these kinds is 
 real ? If this be not real enough to make the thing of one kind, and not 
 of another, I do not see how animal rationale can be enougli really to 
 distinguish a man from a horse : for that is but the nominal, not real 
 essence of that kind, designed by the name man. And yet I suppose 
 every one thinks it real enough to make a real difference between that and 
 other kinds. And if nothing will serve the turn, to make things of one 
 kind, and not of another, (which, as I have shown, signifies no more but 
 ranking of them under different specific names,) but their real unknown 
 constitutions, which are the real essences we are speaking of, I fear it 
 would be a long while before we should have really different kinds of 
 substances, or distinct names for them, unless we could distinguish them 
 by these differences, of which we have no distinct conceptions. For I 
 think it would not be readily answered me, if I should demand, wherein 
 lie.? the real difference in the internal constitution of a stag from that of 
 a buck, which are each of them very well known to be of one kind, and 
 not of the other; and nobody questions but that the kinds whereof each 
 of them is, are really different. 
 
 ' ' Your lordshijj further says, ' And this difference doth not depend 
 upon the complex ideas of substances, whereby men arbitrarily join modes 
 together in their minds. I confess, my lord, I know not what to say to 
 this, because I do not know what these complex ideas of substances are, 
 whereby men arbitrarily join modes together in their minds. But I am 
 apt to think there is a mistake in the matter, by the words that follow, 
 which are these : ' For let them mistake in their complication of ideas, 
 either in leaving out or putting in what doth not belong to them ; and 
 let their ideas be what they please, the real essence of a man, and a 
 horse, and a tree, are just what they were.' 
 
 ' ' Tlie mistake I spoke of, I humbly suppose, is this, that things are 
 here taken to be distinguished by their real essences ; when, by the very 
 way of speaking of them, it is clear that they are already distinguished 
 by their nominal essences, and are so taken to be. For what, I beseech 
 your lordship, does your lordship mean, when you say, ' The real essence 
 of a man, and a horse, and a tree,' but that there are such kinds already 
 set out by the signification of these names, 'man, horse, tree?' And 
 what, I beseech your lordship, is the signification of each of these spe- 
 cific names, but the complex idea it stands for? And that complex idea 
 is the nominal essence, and nothing else. So that taking man, as your 
 loi-dship does here, to stand for a kind or sort of individuals, all which 
 agree in that common complex idea, which that specific name stands for, 
 it is certain that the real essence of all the individuals comprehended 
 under the specific name man, in your use of it, would be just the same ; 
 let others leave out or put into their complex idea of man what they 
 please ; because the real essence on which that unaltered complex idea, 
 i. e., those properties depend, must necessarily be concluded to be the 
 same. 
 
 "For I take it for granted, that in using the name man, in this place, 
 your lordship uses it for that complex idea which is in your lordship's 
 mind of that species. So that your lordship, by putting it for, or sub-
 
 APPENDIX. 381 
 
 stituting it in the place of, that complex idea where you say the real t-n- 
 sence of it is just as it was, oi' the very same as it was, does suppose tin- 
 idea it stands for to be steadily the same. For if I change the signi- 
 fication of the word man, whereby it may not comprehend just the same 
 individuals which in your lordship's sense it does, but shut out some of 
 those that to your lordship are men in your signification of the word man, 
 or take in others, to which your lordship does not allow the name man ; 
 I do not think you will say, that the real essence of man in both these 
 senses is the same. And yet your lordship seems to say so, when you 
 say, ' Let men mistalce in the complication of their ideas, either in leav- 
 ing out or putting in what doth not belong to them ; ' and let their ideas 
 be what they please, the real essence of the individuals comprehended 
 under the names annexed to these ideas will be the same ; for so I 
 humbly conceive, it must be put to make out what your lordship aims 
 at. For as your lordship puts it by the name of man, or any other spe- 
 cific name, your lordship seems to me to suppose, that that name stands 
 for, and not for, the same idea, at the same time. 
 
 " For example, my lord, let your lordship's idea to which you annex 
 the sign man, be a rational animal: let another man's idea be a rational 
 animal of such a shape ; let a third man's idea be of an animal of such a 
 size and shape, leaving out rationality ; let a fourth's be an animal with a 
 body of such a size and shape, and an immaterial Hubstance, with a power 
 of reasoning ; let a fifth leave out of his idea, an immaterial substance : it 
 is plain every one of these will call his a man, as well as your lordship ; 
 and yet it is as plain that man, as standing for all these distinct complex 
 ideas, cannot be supposed to have the same internal constitution, i. c, 
 the same real essence. The truth is, every distinct abstract idea with a 
 name to it, makes a real distinct kind, whatever the real essence (which 
 we know not of any of them) be. 
 
 "And therefore I grant it true what your lordship says in the next 
 words : ' And let the nominal essences diff'er never so much, the real 
 common essence or nature of the several kinds are not at all altered by 
 them ; ' i. e., that our thoughts or ideas cannot alter the l-eal constitutions 
 that are in things that exist, there is nothing more certain. But yet it 
 is true, that the change of ideas to which we annex them, can and does 
 alter the signification of their names, and thereby alter the kinds, which 
 by these names we rank and sort them into. Your lordship further 
 adds, ' And these real essences are unchangeable ; i. c, the internal con- 
 stitutions are unchangeable. Of what, I beseech your lordship, are the 
 internal constitutions unchangeable? !^ot of any tiling that exists, but 
 of God alone ; for they may be changed all as easily by that hand that 
 made them, as the internal frame of a watch. What then is it that is 
 unchangeable? the internal constitution or real essence of a species: 
 which, in plain English, is no more but this, whilst the same specific 
 name, v.f/., of man, horse, or tree, is annexed to, or made the sign of 
 the same abstract complex idea under which I rank several individuals ; 
 it is impossible but the real constitution on which that unaltered complex 
 idea or nominal essence depends, must be the same ; i. e. , in other words, 
 where we find all the same properties, we have reason to conclude there 
 is the same real internal constitution from which those properties flow. 
 
 "But your lordship proves the real essences to be unchangeable,
 
 382 APPENDIX. 
 
 because God makes them, in these following words : ' For, however 
 there may happen some variety in individuals by particular accidents, 
 yet the essences of men, and horses, and trees, remain always the 
 same ; because they do not depend on the ideas of men, but on the will 
 of the Creator, who hath made several sorts of beings.' 
 
 "It is true, the real constitutions or essences of particular things 
 existing do not depend on the ideas of men, but on the wUl of the 
 Creator ; but their being ranked into sorts, under such and such names, 
 does depend, and wholly depend on the ideas of men." 
 
 No. VIII.— Vol. II. p: 129, par. 2. 
 
 The placing of certainty, as Mr. Locke does, in the perception of the 
 agreement or disagreement of our ideas, the Bishop of Worcester suspects 
 may be of dangerous consequence to that article of faith which he has 
 endeavoured to defend : to which Mr. Locke answers : * " Since your 
 lordship hath not, as I remember, shown, or gone about to show, how 
 this proposition, viz., that certainty consists in the perception of the 
 agreement or disagreement of two ideas, is opposite or inconsistent with 
 that article of faith which your lordship has endeavoured to defend : it is 
 plain, it is but your lordship's fear that it may be of dangerous con- 
 sequence to it, which, as I hxmably conceive, is no proof that it is any way 
 inconsistent with that article. 
 
 " Nobody, I think, can blame your lordship, or any one else, for being 
 concerned for any article of the Christian faith ; but if that concern (as 
 it may, and as we know it has done) makes any one apprehend danger, 
 where no danger is, are we, therefore, to give up and condemn any 
 proposition, because any one, though of the first rank and magnitude, 
 fears it may be of dangerous consequence to any trath of religion, with- 
 out showing that it is so ? If such fears be the measures whereby to 
 j udge of trath and falsehood, the afBrming that there are antipodes would 
 be still a heresy ; and the doctrine of the motion of the earth must be 
 rejected as overthrowing the truth of the Scripture, for of that dangerous 
 consequence it has been apprehended to be, by many learned and pious 
 divines, out of their great concern for religion. And yet, notwithstand- 
 ing those great apprehensions of what dangerous consequence it might 
 be, it is now universally received by learned men as an undoubted truth ; 
 aad written for by some, whose belief of the Scripture is not at all ques- 
 tioned ; and particularly, very lately, by a divine of the Church of 
 England, with great strength of reason, in his wonderfully ingenious 
 New Theory of the Earth, 
 
 ' ' The reason your lordship gives o"f your fears, that it may be of such 
 dangerous consequence to that article of faith, which your lordship en- 
 deavours to defend, though it occur in more places than one, is only 
 this : viz., that it is made use of by LU men to do mischief, i. e., to 
 oppose that article of faith, which your lordship hath endeavoured to 
 defend. But, my lord, if it be a reason to lay by anything as bad, 
 because it is, or may be used to an ill purpose, I know not what will be 
 innocent enough to be kept. Arms, which were made for our defence, 
 
 * In his Second Letter to the Bishop of Worcester.
 
 APPENDIX. 383 
 
 are sometimes made use of to do mischief; and yet they are not thought 
 of dangerous consequence for all that. Nobody lays by his sword and 
 pistols, or thinks thena of such dangerous consequence as to be neglected, 
 or thrown away, because robbers, and the worst of men, sometimes 
 make use of them to take away honest men's lives or goods. And the 
 reason is, because they were designed, and will serve to preserve them. 
 And who knows but this may be the present case? If your lordship 
 thinks that placing of certainty in the perception of the agreement or 
 disagreement of ideas, be to be rejected as false, because you apprehend 
 it may be of dangerous consequence to that article of faith : on the other 
 side, perhaps others, with me, may think it a defence against error, and 
 so (as being of good use) to be received and adhered to. 
 
 " I would not, my lord, be hereby thought to set up my own, or any 
 one's judgment against your lordship's. But I have said this only to 
 show, whilst the argument lies for or again.st the truth of any proj^w- 
 sition, barely in an imagination that it may be of consequence to tiie 
 supporting or overthrowing of any remote truth ; it will be impossible, 
 ithat way, to determine of the truth or falsehood of that proposition. 
 For imagination will be set up against imagination, and the stronger 
 probably will be against your lordship ; the strongest imaginations bejng 
 usually in the weakest heads. The only way, in this case, to put 
 it past doubt, is to show the inconsistency of the two propositions ; 
 and then it wUl be seen that one overthrows the other, the true the 
 false one. 
 
 " Your lordship says, indeed, this is a new method of certainty. I 
 will not say so myself, for fear of deserving a second reproof from your 
 lordship, for being too forward to assume to myself the honour of being 
 an original. But this, I think, gives me occasion, and will excuse me 
 from being thought unpertinent, if I ask your lordship whether there be 
 any other, or older method of certainty ? and what it is ? For if there 
 be no other, nor older than this, either this was always the method of 
 certainty, and so mine is no new one ; or else the world is obliged to me 
 for this new oncj after having been so long in the want of so necessary a 
 thing as a method of certainty. If there be an older, I am sure your 
 lordship cannot but know it : your condemning mine as new, as well as 
 your thorough insight into antiquity, cannot but satisfy everybody that 
 you do. And therefore, to set the world right in a thing of that great 
 concernment, and to overthrow mine, and thereby prevent the dangerous 
 consequence there is in my having unreasonably started it, will not, I 
 humbly conceive, misbecome your lordship's care of that article you have 
 endeavoured to defend, nor the goodwill you bear to truth in general. 
 For I will be answerable for myself that I shall ; and I think I may be 
 for aU others, that they all will give off the placing of certainty in the 
 perception of the agreement or disagreement of ideas, Lf your lordship 
 wUl be pleased to show, that it lies in anything else. » 
 
 " But truly, not to ascribe to myself an invention of what has been as 
 old as knowledge is in the world, I must own I am not guilty of what 
 your lordship is pleased to call stai-ting new methods of certainty. Know- 
 ledge, ever since there has been any in the world, has consisted in one 
 particular action in the mind ; and so, I conceive, wUl continue to do to 
 tlie end of it. And to start new methods of knowledge or certainty, (fui'
 
 384 APPENDIX. 
 
 they are to me the same thing,) i. e., to find out and propose new 
 methods of attaining knowledge, either with more ease and quickness, 
 or in things yet unknown, is what I think nobody could blame ; but 
 this is not that which your lordship here means by new methods of cer- 
 tainty. Yoiu' lordship, I think, means by it, the j^lacing of certainty 
 in something, wherein either it does not consist, or else wherein it was 
 not placed before now ; if this be to be called a new method of cer- 
 tainty. As to the latter of these, I shall know whether I am guilty or 
 not, when your lordship will do me the favour to tell me wherein it was 
 placed before ; which your lordship knows I professed myself ignorant 
 of when I wrote my book ; and so I am still. But if starting new 
 methods of certainty be the placing of certainty in something wherein 
 it does not consist, whether I have done that or not, I must appeal to 
 the experience of mankind. 
 
 " There are several actions of men's minds, that they are conscious to 
 themselves of performing, as willing, believing, knowing, &c., which 
 they have so particular a sense of, that they can distinguish them one 
 from another; or else they could not say when they willed, when they 
 believed, and when they knew anything. But though these actions were 
 different enough from one another, not to be confounded by those who 
 spoke of them, yet nobody that I have met with had in their writings 
 particularly set down wherein the act of knowing precisely consisted. 
 
 " To this reflection upon the actions of my own mind, the subject of 
 my Essay concerning Human Understanding naturally led me ; wherein 
 if I have done anything new, it has been to describe to others, more 
 particularly than had been done before, what it is their minds do when 
 they perform that action which they call knowing ; and if, upon ex- 
 amination, they observe I have given a true account of that action of 
 their minds in all the parts of it, I suppose it will be in vain to dispute 
 against what they find and feel in themselves ; and if I have not told 
 them right, and exactly what they find and feel in themselves, when 
 then- minds perform the act of knowing, what I have said will be all 
 in vain, men will not be persuaded against their senses. Knowledge 
 is an internal perception of their minds ; and if, when they reflect on 
 it, they find that it is not what I have said it is, my groundless conceit 
 will not be hearkened to, but be exploded by everybody, and die of 
 itself, and nobody need to be at any pains to drive it out of the world. 
 So impossible is it to find out or start new methods of certainty, or to 
 have them received, if any one places it in anything but in that wherein 
 it really consists ; much less can any one be in danger to be misled into 
 error by any such new, and to every one, visibly senseless project. Can 
 it be supposed that any one could start a new method of seeing and 
 persuade men thereby that they do not see what they do see ? Is it to 
 be feared that any one can cast such a mist over their eyes, that they 
 should not know when they see, and so be led out of their way by it? 
 
 " Knowledge, I find in myself, and I conceive in others, consists in 
 the perception of the agreement or disagreement of the immediate objects 
 of the mind in thinking, which I call ideas ; but whether it does so in 
 others or not, must be deteimined by their own experience, reflecting 
 u]5on the action of their minds in knowing ; for that I cannot alter, nor, 
 I think, they themselves. But whether they will call those immediate
 
 APPENDIX. 385 
 
 objects of their minds in tliinking, ideas or not, is perfectly in their own 
 choice. If thej' dislike that name, they may call them notions or con- 
 ceptions, or how they please ; it matters not, if they use them so as to 
 avoid obscurity and confusion. If they are constantly used in the same 
 and a known sense, eveiy one has the liberty to please himself in his 
 teiTQS ; there lies neither truth, nor error, nor science in that ; though 
 those that take them for things, and not for what they are, bare arbi- 
 trary signs of our ideas, make a great deal ado often about them ; as if 
 some great matter lay in the use of this or that sound. All that I know 
 or can imagine of difference about them is, that those words are always 
 best whose significations are best known in the sense they are used, and 
 so are least apt to breed confusion. 
 
 " My lord, your lordship hath been pleased to find fault with my use 
 of the new term ideas, without telling me a better name for the imme- 
 diate objects of the mind in thinking. Your lordship also has been 
 pleased to find fault with my definition of knowledge, without doing me 
 the favour to give me a better. For it is only about my definition of 
 knowledge, that all this stir concerning certainty is made : for, with me, 
 to know and to be certain is the same thing : what I know, that I am 
 certain of, and what I am certain of, that I know. What reaches to 
 knowledge, I think may be called certainty ; and what comes short of 
 certainty, I think cannot be called knowledge, as your lordship could 
 not but observe in the 18th par. of chap. iv. of my fourth Book, which 
 you have quoted. 
 
 " My definition of knowledge stands thus: 'Knowledge seems to me 
 to be nothing but the perception of the connexion and agreement or 
 disagreement and repugnancy of any of our ideas.' This definition your 
 lordship dislikes, and apprehends it may be of dangerous consequence as 
 to that article of Christian faith which your lordship hath endeavoured 
 to defend. For this there is a very easy remedy ; it is but for your 
 lordship to set aside this definition of knowledge by giving us a better, 
 and this danger is over. But your lordship chooses rather to have a 
 controversy with my book for having it in it, and to put me upon the 
 defence of it ; for which I must acknowledge myself obliged to your 
 lordship for affording me so much of your time, and for allowing 
 me the honour of conversing so much with one so far above me in 
 all respects. 
 
 " Your lordship says, it may be of dangerous consequence to that 
 article of Christian faith which you have endeavoured to defend. Though 
 the laws of disputing allow bare denial as a sufficient answer to sayings, 
 without any offer of a proof; yet, my lord, to show how willing I am 
 to give your lordship all satisfaction, in what you apprehend may be of 
 dangerous consequence in my book, as to that article, I shall not stand 
 still sullenly, and put your lordship upon the difficulty of showing 
 wherein that danger lies ; but shall, on the other side, endeavour to show 
 your lordship that that definition of mine, whether true or false, right 
 or wrong, can be of no dangerous consequence to that article of faith. 
 Thp reason which I shall offer for it is this, because it can be of no con- 
 sequence to it at all. 
 
 ' ' That which your lordship is afraid it may be dangerous to, is an 
 article of faith : that which your lordship labours and is concerned for, 
 
 VOL. II. 2 C
 
 386 APPENDIX. 
 
 is the certainty of faith. Now, my lord, I humbly conceive the cer- 
 tainty of faith, if your lordship thinks fit to call it so, has nothing to do 
 with the certainty of knowledge. And to talk of the certainty of faith, 
 seems all one to me as to talk of the knowledge of believing, a way of 
 speaking not easy to me to understand. 
 
 ' ' Place knowledge in what you will ; start what new methods of cer- 
 tainty you please, that are apt to leave men's minds more doubtful than 
 before ; place certainty on such grounds as will leave little or no know- 
 ledge in the world, (for these are the arguments your lordship uses 
 against my definition of knowledge,) this shakes not at all, nor in the 
 least concerns the assurance of faith ; that is quite distinct from it, 
 neither stands nor falls with knowledge. 
 
 ' ' Faith stands by itself, and upon grounds of its own ; nor can be 
 removed from them, and placed on those of knowledge. Their grounds 
 are so far from being the same, or having anything common, that when 
 it is brought to certainty, faith is destroyed ; it is knowledge then, and 
 faith no longer. 
 
 ' ' With what assurance soever of believing I assent to any article of 
 faith, so that I stedfastly venture my all upon it, it is still but believing. 
 Bring it to certainty, and it ceases to be faith. ' I believe that Jesus 
 Christ was crucified, dead, and buried, rose again the third day from the 
 dead, and ascended into heaven : ' let now such methods of knowledge 
 or certainty be started, as leave men's minds more doubtful than before ; 
 let the grounds of knowledge be resolved into what any one pleases, it 
 touches not my faith ; the foundation of that stands as sure as before, 
 and cannot be at all shaken by it ; and one may as well say, that any- 
 thing that weakens the sight, or casts a mist before the eyes, endangers 
 the hearing ; as that anything which alters the nature of knowledge 
 (if that could be done) should be of dangerous consequence to an article 
 of faith. 
 
 ' ' Whether, then, I am or am not mistaken, in the placing certainty 
 in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of ideas ; whether 
 this account of knowledge be true or false, enlarges or straitens the 
 bounds of it more than it should, faith still stands upon its own basis, 
 which is not at all altered by it ; and every article of that has just the same 
 unmoved foundation, and the veiy same credibility that it had before. 
 So that, my lord, whatever I have said about certainty, and how much ■ 
 soever I may be out in it, if I am mistaken, your lordship has no reason 
 to apprehend any danger to any article of faith from thence ; every one 
 of them stands upon the same bottom it did before, out of the reach of 
 what belongs to knowledge and certainty. And thus much of my way 
 of certainty by ideas ; which I hope will satisfy your lordship how far it 
 is from being dangerous to any article of the Christian faith whatsoever." 
 
 No. IX.— Vol. II. p. 144, par. 6. 
 
 Against that assertion of Mr. Locke, that ' ' possibly we shall never be 
 able to know whether any mere material being thinks or not," &c., the 
 Bishop of Worcester argues thus : "If this be true, then, for all that 
 we can know by our ideas of matter and thinking, matter may have a 
 power of thinking ; and if this hold, then it is impossible to prove a
 
 APPBXDIX. 387 
 
 spiritual substance in us from the idea of thinking ; for how can we be 
 assured by our ideas, that God hath not given such a power of thinking 
 to matter so disposed as our bodies "are? Especially since it is said,* 
 ' That, in respect of our notions, it is not much more remote from our 
 comprehension to conceive that God can, if he pleases, superadd to our 
 idea of matter a faculty of thinking, than that he should superadd to it 
 another substance, with a faculty of thinking.' Whoever asserts this, 
 can never prove a spiritual substance in us from a faculty of thinking, 
 because he cannot know from the idea of matter and thinking, that 
 matter so disposed cannot think ; and he cannot be certain, that God 
 hath not framed the matter of our bodies so as to be capable of it." 
 
 To which Mr. Locke answers thus:t "Here your lordship argues, 
 that upon my principles, it cannot be pi-oved that there is a spiritual 
 substance in us. To which, give me leave, with submission, to sivy, 
 that I think it may be proved from my principles, and I think I have 
 done it ; and the proof in my book stands thus : First, We experiment 
 in ourselves thinking. The idea of this action, or mode of thinking, is 
 inconsistent with the idea of self-subsistence, and therefore has a neces- 
 sary connexion with a support or subject of inhesion : the idea of that 
 support is what we call substance ; and so from thinking experunented 
 in us, we have a proof of a thinking substance in us, which in my sense is 
 a spirit. Against this your lordship will argue, that, by what I have 
 said of the possibility that God may, if he pleases, superadd to matter a 
 faculty of thinking, it can never be proved that there is a spiritual sub- 
 stance in us, because, upon that supposition, it is possible it may be a 
 material substance that thinks in us. I grant it; but add, that the 
 general idea of substance being the same everywhere, the modification 
 of thinking, or the power of thinking, joined to it, makes it a spirit, 
 without considering what other modifications it has, as whether it has the 
 modification of solidity or not. As, on the other side, substance that 
 has the modification of solidity, is matter, whether it has the modifica- 
 tion of thinking or not. And therefore, if your lordship means by a 
 spiritual, an immaterial substance, I grant I have not proved, nor upon 
 my principles can it be proved, (your lordship meaning, as I think you 
 do, demonstratively proved, ) that there is an immaterial substance in us 
 that thinks. Though I presume, from what I have said about this sup- 
 position of a system of matter, thinking! (which there demonstrates 
 that God is immaterial) will prove it in the highest degre ■ probable, that 
 the thinking substance in us is immaterial. But your lordship thinks 
 not probability enough, and by charging the want of demonstration upon 
 my principle, that the thinking thing in us is unmaterial, your lordship 
 seems to conclude it demonstrable from principles of philosophy. That 
 demonstration I should with joy receive from your lordship or any one. 
 For though all the great ends of morality and religion are well enough 
 secured without it, as I have shown, § yet it would be a great advance 
 of our knowledge in nature and philosophy. 
 
 ' ' To what I have said in my book, to show that all the great ends of 
 
 * Essay on Human Understanding, B. 4, c. 3, p G. 
 t In his First Letter to the Bishop of Worcester. 
 :;: B. 4, c. 10, par. 16. § Ibid. c. 3, par. 6. 
 
 2c 2
 
 3&6 APPENDIX. 
 
 religion and morality are secured barely by the immortality of the soul, 
 without a necessary supposition that the soul is immaterial, I crave leave 
 to add, that immortality may, and shall be, annexed to that which in 
 its own nature is neither immaterial nor immortal, as the apostle ex- 
 pressly declares in these words : * ' For this corruptible must put on 
 incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.' 
 
 ' ' Perhaps my using the word spirit for a thinking substance, without 
 excluding materiality out of it, will be thought too great a liberty, and 
 such as deserves censure, because I leave immateriality out of the idea 
 I make it a sign of. I readily own, that words should be sparingly 
 ventured on in a sense wholly new, and nothing but absolute necessity 
 can excuse the boldness of using any term in a sense whereof we can 
 produce no example. But in the present case I think I have great au- 
 thorities to justify me. The soul is agreed, on all hands, to be that in 
 us which thinks. And he that will look into the first book of Cicero's 
 Tusculan Questions, and into the sixth book of Virgil's .iEneid, wUl find 
 that these two great men, who, of all the Romans, best understood phi- 
 losophy, thought, or at least did not deny, the soul to be a subtile mat- 
 ter, which might come under the name of aura, or ignis, or (ether, and 
 this soul they both of them called spiritus: in the notion of which, it is 
 plain, they included only thought and active motion, without the total 
 exclusion of matter. Whether they thought right in this I do not say — 
 that is not the question ; but whether they spoke properly, when they 
 called an active, thinking, subtile substance, out of which they excluded 
 only gross and palpable matter, sjnritus, spirit? I think that nobody 
 will deny, that if any among the Romans can be allowed to speak pro- 
 perly, Tully and VirgU are the two who may most securely be depended 
 on for it; and one of them, speaking of the soul, says, Dum sjiiritua 
 hos reget artus: and the other Vita continetur corpore et spintu. Where 
 it is plain by corpus he means (as generally everywhere) only gross mat- 
 ter that may be felt and handled, as appears by these words : Si cor, aut 
 sanguis, aut cerebrum est aniimis: certe, qiconiam est corpus, interibit 
 cum reliquo corpore: si anima est forte dissipahitur : si ignis, extingue- 
 tur. Tusc. QuEest. 1. I. c. 11. Here Cicero opposes corpus to ignis and 
 anivia, i. e., aura, or breath. And the foundation of that his distinc- 
 tion of the soul, from that which he calls corpus, or body, he gives a 
 little lower in these words : Tanta cjics tenuitas ut fugiat acuni. Ibid, 
 c. 22. Kor was it the heathen world alone that had this notion of spirit ; 
 the most enlightened of all the ancient people of God, Solomon himself, 
 speaks after the same manner : + ' That which befaUeth the sons of men, 
 befalleth beasts: even one thing befaUeth them: as the one dieth, so 
 dieth the other ; yea, they have aU one spirit.' So I translate the He- 
 brew word nn here, for so I find it translated the very next verse but 
 one : % ' Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the 
 spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?' In which places 
 it is plain that Solomon applies the word ni"l. and our translators of him 
 the word spirit, to a substance out of which materiality was not wholly 
 excluded, unless the spirit of a beast that goeth downwards to the earth 
 be immaterial. Nor did the way of speaking in our Saviour's time vary 
 
 * 1 Cor. XV. 53. t Eccl. iiL 19. J Ibid. 21.
 
 APPENDIX. 389 
 
 from this ; St. Luke tells us, * ' That when our Saviour, after his resur- 
 rection, stood in the midst of them, they were affrighted, and supposed 
 that they had seen Trviv/ia,' the Greek word which always answers spirit 
 in English : and so the translators of the Bible render it here ; they sup- 
 posed that they had seen a spirit. But our Saviour says to them, ' Be- 
 hold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself; handle me, and see, for 
 a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as you see me have.' Which vvords 
 of our Saviour put the same distinction between body and spirit, that 
 Cicero did in the place above cited, viz.. That the one was a gross corn- 
 pages that could be felt and handled ; and the other such as Virgil de- 
 scribes the ghost or soul of Anchises : 
 
 ' Ter conatus ibi collo dare brachia circum : 
 Ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago, 
 Par levibus ventis, volucrique simillima sorano.' t 
 
 "I would not be thought hereby to say, that spirit never does signify 
 a purely immaterial substance. In that sense the Scripture, I take 
 it, speaks, when it says God is a spirit; and in that sense I have 
 used it ; and in that sense I have proved from my principles that 
 there is a spiritual substance, and am certain that there is a spiritual 
 immaterial substance; which is, I humbly conceive, a direct answer 
 to your lordship's question in the beginning of this aigument : viz., 
 'How we come to be certain that there are spiritual substances, sup- 
 posing this principle to be true, that the simple ideas by sensation 
 and reflection are the sole matter and foundation of all our rea- 
 soning?' But this hinders not, but that if God, that infinite, omni- 
 potent, and perfectly immaterial Spirit, should please to give to a system 
 of very subtile matter, sense and motion, it might with propriety of 
 speech be called spirit, though materiality were not excluded out of its 
 complex idea. Your lordship proceeds : ' It is said, indeed, elsewhere, + 
 that it is repugnant to the idea of senseless matter, that it should put 
 into itself sense, perception^ and knowledge. But this doth not reach 
 the present case, which is not what matter can do of itself, but what 
 matter prepared by an omnipotent hand can do. And what certainty 
 can we have that he hath not done it? We can have none from the 
 ideas, for those are given up in this case, and consequently we can have 
 no certainty, upon these principles, whether we have any spiritual 
 substance within us or not.' 
 
 * ' Your lordship in this paragraph proves, that from what I say, we 
 can have no certainty whether we have any spiritual substance in us or 
 not. If by spiritual substance, your lordship means an immaterial sub- 
 stance in us, as you speak, I grant what your lordship says is true, that 
 it cannot upon these principles be demonstrated. But I must crave 
 leave to say, at the same time, that upon these principles it can be 
 proved, to the highest degree of probability. If by spiritual substance, 
 your lordship means a thinking substance, I must dissent from your 
 lordship, and say, that we can have a certainty, upon my principles, that 
 there is a spiritual substance in us. In short, my lord, upon my 
 principles, i.e., from the idea of thinking, we can have a certainty that 
 
 * Chap. xxiv. 37. t .^neid. lib. vi. J Essay, B. 4, c. 10, par. 5.
 
 390 APPENDIX. 
 
 there is a thinking substance in us ; from hence we have a certainty that 
 there is an eternal thinking substance. This thinking substance, which 
 has been from eternity, I have proved to be immaterial. This eternal, 
 immaterial, thinking substance, has put into us a thinking substance, 
 whicii, whether it be a material or immaterial substance, cannot be in- 
 fallibly demonstrated from our ideas ; though from them it may be proved 
 that it is to the highest degree probable that it is immaterial." 
 
 Ao-ain, the Bishop of Worcester undertakes to prove, from Mr. Locke's 
 ]3rinciples, that we may be certain, "That the first eternal thinking 
 Being, or omnipotent Spirit, cannot, if he would, give to certain systems 
 of created sensible matter, put together as he sees fit, some degrees of 
 sense, perception, and thought." 
 
 To which Mr. Locke has made the following answer in his Third 
 Letter : 
 
 "Your first argument I take to be this : that according to me, the 
 knowledge we have being by our ideas, and our ideas of matter in general 
 being a solid substance, and our idea of body a solid extended figured 
 substance ; if I admit matter to be capable of thinking, I confound the 
 idea of matter with the idea of a spirit : to which I answer. No ; no 
 more than I confound the idea of matter with the idea of a horse, when 
 I say that matter in general is a solid extended substance, and that a 
 horse is a material animal, or an extended solid substance, with sense 
 and spontaneoiis motion. 
 
 "The idea of matter is an extended solid substance; wherever there 
 is such a substance, there is matter, and the essence of matter, whatever 
 other qualities, not contained in that essence, it shall please God to 
 superadd to it For example : God creates an extended solid substance, 
 vsdthout the superadding anything else to it, and so we may consider it 
 at rest : to some parts of it he superadds motion, but it has still the 
 essence of matter ; other parts of it he frames into plants, with all the 
 excellences of vegetation, life, and beauty, which is to be found in *a 
 rose or peach tree, &c., above the essence of matter in general, but it is 
 stUl but matter : to other parts he adds sense and spontaneous motion, and 
 those other properties that are to be found in an elephant. Hitherto it 
 is not doubted but the power of God may go, and that the properties of 
 a rose, a peach, or an elephant, superadded to matter, change not the 
 properties of matter ; but matter is in these things matter still. But if 
 one venture to go one step further, and say, God may give to matter 
 thought, reason, and volition, as well as sense and spontaneous motion, 
 there are men ready presently to limit the power of the omnipotent 
 Creator, and tell us he cannot do it, because it destroys the essence, or 
 changes the essential properties of matter. To make good which asser- 
 tion, they have no more to say, but that thought and reason are not in- 
 cluded in the essence of matter. I grant it ; but whatever excellency, 
 not contained in its essence, be superadded to matter, it does not de- 
 stroy the essence of matter, if it leaves it an extended solid substance ; 
 wherever that is, there is the essence of matter ; and if everj'thing of 
 greater perfection, superadded to such a substance, destroys the essence 
 of matter, what will become of the essence of matter in a plant or an 
 animal, whose properties far exceed those of a mere extended solid 
 substance ?
 
 APPENDIX. 391 
 
 " But it is further urged, that we cannot conceive how matter can 
 think. I grant it ; but to argue from thence, that God, theiefore, can- 
 not give to matter a faculty of thinking, is to say, God's omnipotency is 
 limited to a narrow compass, because man's understanding is so, and 
 brings down God's infinite power to the size of our capacities. If God 
 can give no power to any parts of matter, but what men can account for 
 from the essence of mattei- in general ; if all such qualities and pro- 
 perties must destroy the essence, or change the essential properties of 
 matter, which are to our conceptions above it, and we cannot conceive 
 to be the natural consequence of that essence; it is plain that the 
 essence of matter is destroyed, and its essential properties changed, in 
 most of the sensible parts of this our system. For it is visible, that all 
 the planets have revolutions about certain remote centres, which I would 
 have any one explain, or make conceivable by the bare essence, or na- 
 tural powers depending on the essence of matter in general, without 
 something added to that essence, which we cannot conceive; for the 
 moving of matter in a crooked line, or the attraction of matter by 
 matter, is all that can be said in the case ; either of which it is above 
 our reach to derive from the essence of matter or body in general ; 
 though one of these two must unavoidably be allowed to be superadded 
 in this instance to the essence of matter in general. The omnipotent 
 Creator advised not with us in the making of the world, and his ways 
 are not the less excellent because they are past our finding out. 
 
 '• In the next place, the vegetable part of the creation is not doubted 
 to be wholly material ; and yet he that will look into it will observe ex- 
 cellences and operations in this part of matter, which he will not find 
 contained in the essence of matter in general, nor be able to conceive 
 how they can be produced by it. And will he therefore say, that the 
 essence of matter is destroyed in them, because they have properties and 
 operations not contained in the essential properties of matter as matter, 
 nor explicable by the essence of matter in general ? 
 
 " Let us advance one step further, and we shall in the animal world 
 meet with yet greater perfections and properties, no ways explicable by 
 the essence of matter in general. If the omnipotent Creator had not 
 superadded to the earth, which produced the irrational animals, qualities 
 far surpassing those of the dull dead earth out of which they were made, 
 life, sense, and spontaneous motion, nobler qualities than were before 
 in it, it had still remained rude, senseless matter; and if to the indi- 
 viduals of each species he had not superadded a power of propagation, 
 the species had perished with those mdividvi?.]« ; but by thf^**? esscr.Ges 
 or properties of each species, superadded to the matter which they were 
 made of, the essence or properties of matter in general were not de- 
 stroyed or changed, any more than anything that was in the individual 
 before, was destroyed or changed by the power of generation, super- 
 added to them by the first benediction of the Almighty. 
 
 " In all such cases, the superinducement of greater perfections and 
 nobler qualities destroys nothing of the essence or perfections that were 
 there before ; unless there can be showed a manifest repugnancy be- 
 tween them : but all the proof offered for that, is only that we cannot 
 conceive how matter, without such superadded perfections, can produce 
 such effects ; which is, in truth, no more than to say, matter in general.
 
 392 APPENDIX. 
 
 or every part of matter, as matter, has them not ; but it is no reason to 
 prove that God, if he pleases, cannot superadd them to some parts of 
 matter, unless it can be proved to be a contradiction, that God should 
 give to some parts of matter qualities and perfections which matter in 
 general has not; though we cannot conceive how matter is invested 
 with them, or how it operates by virtue of those new endowments ; nor 
 is it to be wondered that we cannot, whUst we limit all its operations 
 to those qualities it had before, and would explain them by the known 
 properties of matter in general, without any such superinduced per- 
 fections. For if this be a right rule of reasoning, to deny a thing to 
 be, because we cannot conceive the manner how it comes to be ; I 
 shall desire them who use it, to stick to this rule, and see what work 
 it will make both in divinity as well as philosophy ; and whether they 
 can advance anything more in favour of scepticism. 
 
 " For to keep within the present subject of the power of thinking 
 and self-motion, bestowed by omnipotent Power in some parts of matter : 
 the objection to this is, I cannot conceive how matter should think. 
 What is the consequence? ergo, God cannot give it a power to think. 
 Let this stand for a good reason, and then proceed in other cases by 
 the same. You cannot conceive how matter can attract matter at any 
 distance, much less at the distance of 1, 000, 000 of miles ; ergo, God 
 cannot give it such a power ; you cannot conceive how matter should 
 feel, or move itself, or affect an immaterial being, or be moved by it ; 
 ergo, God cannot give it such powers ; which is, in effect, to deny gravity, 
 and the revolution of the planets about the sun ; to make brutes mere 
 machines, without sense or spontaneous motion ; and to allow man 
 neither sense nor voluntary motion. 
 
 "Let us apply this rule one degree further. You cannot conceive 
 how an extended solid substance should think ; therefore God cannot 
 make it think : can you conceive how your own soul, or any substance, 
 thinks ? You find indeed that you do think, and so do I ; but I want to 
 be told how the action of thinking is performed ; this, I confess, is 
 beyond my conception, and I would be glad any one who conceives it 
 would explain it to me. God, I find, has given me this faculty ; and 
 since I cannot but be convinced of his power in this instance, which 
 though I every moment experiment in myself, yet I cannot conceive the 
 manner of; what would it be less tljan an insolent absurdity, to deny 
 his power in other like cases, only for this reason, because I cannot 
 conceive the manner how? 
 
 *' To explain this matter a little ftlrther : God hag created a substance ; 
 let it be, for example, a solid extended substance. Is God bound to 
 give it, besides being, a power of action ? That, I think, nobody will say : 
 he therefore may leave it in a state of inactivity, and it will be never- 
 theless a substance ; for action is not necessary to the being of any sub- 
 stance that God does create. God has likewise created and made to 
 exist, de novo, an immaterial substance, which will not lose its being of 
 a substance, though God should bestow on it nothing more but this bare 
 being, without giving it any acti^jity at all. Here are now two distinct 
 substances, the one material, the other immaterial, both in a state of 
 perfect inactivity. Now I ask what power God can give to one of these 
 substances (supposing them to retain the same distinct natures that they
 
 APPENDIX. 393 
 
 had as substances in their state of inactivity) which he cannot give to 
 the other? In that state it is plain neither of them thinks ; for thinking 
 being an action, it cannot be denied that God can put an end to any 
 action of any created substance, without annihilating of the substance 
 whereof it is an action ; and if it be so, he can also create or give exist- 
 ence to such a substance, without giving that substance any action at 
 all. By the same reason it is plain that neither of them can move itself: 
 now I would ask why Omnipotency cannot give to either of these sub- 
 stances, which are equaOy in a state of perfect inactivity, the same 
 power that it can give to tlie other? Let it be for example, that of spon- 
 taneous or self-motion, which is a power that it is supposed God can 
 give to an unsolid substance, but denied that he can give to a solid 
 substance. 
 
 "If it be asked why they limit the omnipotency of God in reference 
 to the one rather than the other of these substances ? all that can 
 be said to it is, that they cannot conceive how the solid substance 
 should ever be able to move itself. And as little, say I, are they 
 able to conceive, how a created unsolid substance should move itself. 
 But there may be something in an immaterial substance that you 
 do not know. I grant it ; and in a material one too ; for example, 
 g^ravitation of matter towards matter, and in the sevei-al proportions 
 observable, inevitably shows that there is something in matter that we 
 do not understand, unless we can conceive self-motion in matter ; 
 or an inexplicable and inconceivable attraction in matter, at immense, 
 almost incomprehensible distances ; it must, therefore, be confessed that 
 there is something in solid as well as unsolid substances that we do not 
 understand. But this we know, that they may each of them have their 
 distinct beings, without any activity superadded to them, unless you wUl 
 deny that God can take from any being its power of acting, which it is 
 probable will be thought too presumptuous for any one to do ; and I say 
 it is as hard to conceive self-motion in a created immaterial, as in a ma- 
 terial being, consider it how you wiU; and therefore this is no reason 
 to deny Omnipotency to be able to give a power of self-motion to a 
 material substance, if he pleases, as well as to an immaterial, since neither 
 of them can have it from themselves, nor can we conceive how it can be 
 in either of them. 
 
 The same is visible in the other operation of thinking : both these sub- 
 stances may be made and exist without thought ; neither of them has or 
 can have the power of thinking from itself ; God may give it to either of 
 •them, according to the good pleasure of his omnipotency ; and in which- 
 ■ ever of them it is, it is equally beyond our capacity to conceive how 
 either of these substances thinks. But for that reason to deny that God, 
 who had power enough to give them both a being out of nothing, can 
 by the same omnipotency give them what other powers and perfections 
 he pleases, has no better foundation than to deny his power of creation 
 because we cannot conceive how it is performed : and tliere, at last, this 
 way of reasoning must terminate. 
 
 ' ' That Omnipotency cannot make a substance to be solid and not 
 solid at the same time, I think, with due reverence, we may say ; but 
 that a solid substance may not have qualities, perfections, and powers, 
 which have no natural or visibly necessary connexion with solidity and 
 extension, is too much for us (who are but of yesterday, and know no-
 
 394 APPENDIX, 
 
 thing) to be positive in. If God cannot join things together by con- 
 nexions inconceivable to us, we must deny even the consistency and 
 being of matter itself ; since every particle of it having some bulk, has 
 its parts connected by ways inconceivable to us. So that all the diffi- 
 culties that are raised against the thinking of matter, from our ignorance, 
 or narrow conceptions, stand not at all in the way of the power of God, if 
 he pleases to ordain it so ; nor prove anything against his having actually 
 endued some parcels of matter, so disposed as he thinks fit, with a faculty of 
 thinking, till it can be shown that it contains a contradiction to suppose it. 
 " Though to me sensation be comprehended under thinking in general, 
 yet in the foregoing discourse I have spoken of sense in brutes, as 
 distinct from thinking ; because your lordship, as I remember, speaks of 
 sense in brutes. But here I take liberty to observe, that if your lordship 
 allows brutes to have sensation, it will follow, either that God can and 
 doth give to some parcels of matter a power of perception and thinking, 
 or that all animals have immaterial, and consequently, according to your 
 lordship, immortal souls, as well as men, and to say that fleas and mites, 
 &c., have immortal souls as well as men, will possibly be looked on as 
 going a great way to serve an h)'pothesis. 
 
 " I have been pretty large in making this matter plain, that they who 
 are so forward to bestow hard censures or names on the opinions of 
 those who differ from them, may consider whether sometimes they are 
 not more due to their own ; and that they may be persuaded a little to 
 temper that heat, which, supposing the truth in their current opinions, 
 gives them (as they think) a right to lay what imputations they please 
 on those who would fairly examine the grounds they stand upon. For 
 talking with a supposition and insinuations, that truth and knowledge, 
 nay, and religion too, stand and fall with their systems, is at best but 
 an imperious way of begging the question, and assuming to themselves, 
 under the pretence of zeal for the cause of God, a title to infallibility. 
 It is very becoming that men's zeal for truth should go as far as their 
 proofs, but not go for proofs themselves. He that attacks received opi- 
 nions with anything but fair arguments, may, I ovm, be justly suspected 
 not to mean well, nor to be led by the love of truth ; but the same may 
 be said of him too, who so defends them. An error is not the better 
 for being common, nor truth the worse for having lain neglected ; and 
 if it were put to the vote anywhere in the world, I doubt, as things are 
 managed, whether truth would have the majority, at least whilst the au- 
 thority of men, and not the examination of things, must be its measure. 
 The imputation of scepticism, and those broad insinuations to render 
 what I have written suspected, so frequent, as if that were the great 
 business of all this pains you have been at about me, has made me say 
 thus much, my lord, rather as my sense of the way to establish truth 
 in its full force and beauty, than that I think the world will need tc have 
 anything said to it, to make it distinguish between j'our lordship's and 
 my design in wi-iting, which, therefore, I securely leave to the judgment 
 of the reader, and return to the argument in hand. 
 
 " What I have above said, I take to be a full answer to all that your 
 lordship would infer from my idea of matter^ of liberty, of identity, and 
 from the power of abstracting. You ask, " ' How can my idea of liberty 
 
 * First Answer.
 
 APPENDIX. 395 
 
 agree with the idea that bodies can operate only by motion and im- 
 pulse? ' Answer. By the omnipotency of God, wlio can make all things 
 agree, that involve not a contradiction. It is true, I say,* That bodies 
 operate by impulse, and nothing else. And so I thought when I wrote 
 it, and can yet conceive no other way of their operation. But I am 
 since convinced by the judicious Mr. Newton's incomparable book, that 
 it is too bold a presumption to limit God's power in this point by my 
 narrow conceptions. The gravitation of matter towards matter, by 
 ways inconceivable to me, is not only a demonstration that God can, if 
 he pleases, put into bodies powers and ways of operation, above what 
 can be derived from our idea of body, or can be explained by what we 
 know of matter; but also an unquestionable, and everywhere visible 
 instance that he has done so. And, therefore, in the next edition of my 
 book I will take care to have that passage rectified. 
 
 "As to self- consciousness, your lordship asks,t 'What is there like 
 self-consciousness in matter?' Nothing at all in matter, as matter. 
 But that God cannot bestow on some parcels of matter a power of think- 
 ing, and with it self- consciousness, will never be proved by asking,* 
 How is it possible to apprehend that mere body should perceive that it 
 doth perceive? The weakness of our apprehension, I grant in the case: 
 I confess as much as you please, that we cannot conceive how a solid, 
 no, nor how an unsolid, created substance thinks ; but this weakness of 
 our apprehensions reaches not the power of God, whose weakness is 
 stronger than anything in men. 
 
 " Your argument from abstraction, we have in this question : 1| 'If it 
 may be in the power of matter to think, how comes it to be so impos- 
 sible for such organized bodies as the brutes have, to enlarge their ideas 
 by abstraction? Ans. This seems to suppose that I place thinking 
 within the natural power of matter. If that be your meaning, my lord, 
 I never say nor suppose that all matter has naturally in it a faculty of 
 thinking, but the direct contrary. But if you mean that certain parcels 
 of matter, ordered by the Divine Power, as seems fit to him, may be 
 made capable of receiving from his omnipotency the faculty of thinking ; 
 that, indeed, I say : and that being granted, the answer to your question 
 is easy; since, if Omnipotency can give thought to any solid substance, 
 it is not hard to conceive that God may give that faculty in a higher or 
 lower degree, as it pleases him, who knows what disposition of the sub- 
 ject is suited to such a particular way or degree of thinking. 
 
 " Another argument to prove that God cannot endue any parcel of 
 matter with the faculty of thinking, is taken from those words of 
 mine, § where I show by what connexion of ideas we may come to know 
 that God is an immaterial substance. They are these: 'The idea of 
 an eternal actual knowing being, with the idea of immateriality, by the 
 intervention of the idea of matter, and of its actual division, divisi- 
 bility, and want of perception, &c. From whence your lordship thus 
 argues : H ' Here the want of perception is owned to be so essential to 
 matter, that God is therefore concluded to be immaterial.' Ans. Per- 
 ception and knowledge in that one Eternal Being, where it ha« its 
 
 * Essay, B. 2, c. 8, par. 11. t First Answer. J Ibid. || Ibid. 
 § First Letter. H Ibid.
 
 396 APPENDIX. 
 
 source, it is visible must be essentially inseparable from it; therefore the 
 actual want of perception in so great a part of the particular parcels of 
 matter, is a demonstration, that the first Being, from whom perception 
 and knowledge are inseparable, is not matter : how far this makes the 
 want of perception an essential property of matter, I will not dispute ; 
 it suffices that it shows that perception is not an essential property of 
 matter, and therefore matter cannot be that eternal original being to 
 which perception and knowledge are essential. Matter, I say, na- 
 turally is without perception : Errjo, says your lordship, ' want of per- 
 ception is an essential property of matter, and God does not change the 
 essential properties of things, their nature remaining. ' From whence 
 you infer, that God cannot bestow on any parcel of matter (the nature 
 of matter remaining) a faculty of thinking. If the rules of logic, since 
 my days, be not changed, I may safely deny this consequence. For an 
 argument that runs thus, God does not, ergo, he cannot, I was taught 
 when I first came to the university, would not hold. For I never said 
 God did; but,* 'That I see no contradiction in it, that he should, if 
 he pleased, give to some systems of senseless matter a faculty of think- 
 ing ;' and I know nobody before Descartes that ever pretended to show 
 that there was any contradiction m it. So that at worst, my not being 
 able to see in matter any such incapacity as makes it impossible for 
 Omnipotency to bestow on it a faculty of thinking, makes me opposite 
 only to the Cartesians. For as far as I have seen or heard, the Fathers 
 of the Christian church never pretended to demonstrate that matter was 
 incapable to receive a power of sensation, perception, and thinking, 
 from the hand of the omnipotent Creator. Let us, therefore, if you 
 please, suppose the form of your argumentation right, and that your 
 lordship means, ' God cannot : ' and then if your argument be good, it 
 proves, 'That God could not give to Balaam's ass a power to speak to 
 his master, as he did, for the want of rational discourse being natural 
 to that species ; ' it is but for your lordship to call it an essential pro- 
 perty, and then God cannot change the essential properties of things, 
 their nature remaining : whereby it is proved, ' That God cannot, with 
 all his omnipotency, give to an ass a power to speak, as Balaam's did.' 
 
 "You say, t my lord, you ' do not set bounds to God's omnipotency. 
 For he may, if he please, change a body into an immaterial substance,' 
 i. e., take away from a substance the solidity which it had before, and 
 which made it matter, and then give it a faculty of thinking which it 
 had not before, and which makes it a spuit, the same substance remain- 
 ing. For if the substance remains not, body is not changed into an 
 immaterial substance. But the solid substance, and all belonging to 
 it, is annihilated, and an immaterial substance created, which is not a 
 change of one thing into another, but the destroying of one and making 
 another de novo. In this change, therefore, of a body or material sub- 
 stance, into an immateinal, let us observe these distinct considerations. 
 
 "First, you say, ' God may, if he please, take away from a solid sub- 
 stance, solidity, which is that which makes a material substance or body ; 
 and may make it an immaterial substance, i. e., a substance without 
 solidity. But this privation of one quality gives it not another ; the bare 
 
 * B 4, c. 3, par. 6. + First Answer.
 
 APPENBIX. 397 
 
 taking away a lower or less noble quality, does not give it a higher or 
 nobler ; that must be tlie gift of God. For the bare i)rivation of one, 
 and a meaner quality, cannot be the position of a higher and better : 
 unless any one will say that cogitation, or the power of thinking, results 
 from the nature of substance itself ; which Lf it do, then, wherever there 
 is substance, there must be cogitation, or a power of thinking. Here, 
 then, upon your lordship's own principles, is an immaterial substance 
 without the faculty of thinking. 
 
 " In the next place, you wiU not deny that God may give to -this sub- 
 stance, thus deprived of solidity, a faculty of thinking ; for you suppose 
 it made capable of that by being made immaterial ; whereby you allow 
 that the same numerical substance may be sometimes wholly incogita- 
 tive, or without a power of thinking, and at other times perfectly cogi- 
 tative, or endued with a power of thinking. 
 
 ' ' Further, you will not deny but God can give it solidity, and make 
 it material again. For I conlcude it will not be denied that God yan 
 make it again what it was before; Now I crave leave to ask your lord- 
 ship, why God, having given to this substance the faculty of thinking, 
 after solidity was taken from it, cannot restore to it solidity again, with- 
 out taking away the faculty of thinking? When you have resolved this, 
 my lord, you will have proved it impossible for God's omnipotence to 
 give to a solid substance a faculty of thinking ; but till then, not having 
 proved it impossible, and yet denying that God can do it, is to deny 
 that he can do what is in itself possible ; which, as I humbly conceive, 
 is visibly to set bounds to God's omnipotency, though you say here,* 
 you do not set bounds to God's omnipotency.' 
 
 " If I should imitate your lordship's way of writing, I should not omit 
 to bring in Epicurus here, and take notice that this wa,s his way, Deum 
 verbis ponere, re tollere; and then add, that I am certain you do not 
 think he promoted the great ends of religion and morality. For it is 
 with such candid and kind insinuations as these that you bring in both 
 Hobbest and SpinosaJ into your discourse here about God's being able, 
 if he please, to give to some parcels of matter, ordered as he thinks fit, 
 a faculty of thinking ; neither of those authors having, as appears by 
 any passages you bring out of them, said anything to this question ; nor 
 having, as it seems, any other business here, but by their names, skil- 
 fully to give that character to my book with which you would recommend 
 it to the world. 
 
 ' ' I pretend not to inquire what measure of zeal, nor for what, guides 
 your lordship's pen in such a way of writing, as yours has all along been 
 with me ; only I cannot but consider, what reputation it would give to 
 the writings of the fathers of the church, if they should tliink truth 
 required, or religion allowed them to imitate such patterns. But God 
 be thanked, there be those amongst them who do not admire such ways 
 of managing the cause of truth or religion ; they being sensible, that if 
 every one who believes, or can pretend he hath truth on his side, is 
 thereby authorized, without proof, to insinuate' whatever may sei-ve to 
 prejudice men's minds against the other side, there will be gi-eat 
 luvage made on charity and practice, without any gain to truth or know- 
 
 * First Answer. t Ibid. i Ibid.
 
 398 APPENDIX. 
 
 ledge ; and that the liberties frequently taken by disputants to do so, 
 may have been the cause that the world in all ages has received so much 
 harm, and so little advantage, from controversies in religion. 
 
 "These are the arguments which your lordship has brought to confute 
 one saying in my book, by other passages in it ; which, therefore, being 
 all but argumenta ad honiinem, if they did prove what they do not, are 
 of no other use than to gain a victory over me ; a thing, methinks, so 
 much beneath your lordship, that it does not deserve one of your pages. 
 The question is, whether God can, if he please, bestow on any parcel of 
 matter, ordered as he thinks fit, a faculty of perception and thinking. 
 You say,* you 'look upon a mistake herein to be of dangerous con- 
 sequence as to the great ends of religion and morality.' If this be so, 
 my lord, I think one may well wonder why your lordship has brought 
 no arguments to establish the tnith itself, which you look on to be of 
 such dangerous consequence to be mistaken in ; but have spent so many 
 pages only in a personal matter, in endeavouring to show that I had 
 inconsistencies in my book ; which if any such thing had been shown, 
 the question would be still as far from being decided, and the danger of 
 mistaking about it as little prevented, as if nothing of all this had been 
 said. If, therefore, your lordship's care of the great ends of religion 
 and morality have made you think it necessary to clear this question, the 
 world has reason to conclude there is little to be said against that pro- 
 position which is to be found in my book, concerning the possibility that 
 some parcels of matter might be so ordered by Omnipotence, as to be 
 endued with a faculty of thinking, if God so pleased ; since your lord- 
 ship's concern for the promoting the great ends of religion and morality 
 has not enabled you to produce one argument against a proposition that 
 you think of so dangerous consequence to them. 
 
 "And here I crave leave to observe, that though in your title l>age 
 you promise to prove that my notion of ideas is inconsistent with itself, 
 (which if it were, it could hardly be proved to be inconsistent with any- 
 thing else, ) and with the articles of the Christian faith ; yet your attempts 
 all along have been to prove me, in some passages of my book, incon- 
 - sistent with myself, without having shown any proposition in my book 
 inconsistent with any article of the Christian faith. 
 
 " I think your lordship has, indeed, made use of one argument of 
 your own : but it is such an one, that I confess I do not see how it is apt 
 much to promote religion, especially the Christian religion, founded on 
 revelation. I shall set down your lordship's words that they may be 
 considered ; you say, t ' that you are of opinion that the great ends of 
 religion and morality are best secured by the proofs of the immortality 
 of the soul, from its nature, and properties ; and v/hich you think prove 
 it immaterial,' Your lordship does not question whether God can give 
 immortality to a material substance : but you say it takes off very much 
 fiom the evidence of immortality, if it depend wholly upon God's giving 
 that which of its own nature it is not capable of, &c. So likewise you 
 say, + ' If a man cannot be certain but that matter may think, (as I 
 affinn,) then what becomes of the soul's immateriality (and consequently 
 immortality) from its operations ? ' But for all this, say I, his assurance 
 
 * First Answer. + Ibid. ± Second Answer.
 
 * APPENDIX. 399 
 
 of faith remains on its own basis. Now, you appeal to any man of sense, 
 whether tiie finding the uncertainty of his own principles whicli he went 
 upon, in point of reason, doth not weaken the credibility of these fun- 
 damental ai-ticles, when they are considered purely as matters of faith? 
 For before, there was a natural credibility in them on account of rea- 
 son ; but by going on wrong grounds of certainty, all that is lost ; 
 and instead of being certain, he is more doubtful than ever. And if the 
 evidence of faith fall so much short of that of reason, it must needs have 
 less effect upon men's minds when the subserviency of reason is taken 
 away; as it must be, when the grounds of certainty by reason are 
 vanished. Is it at all probable, that he who finds his reason deceive 
 him in such fundamental points, shall have his faith stand firm and im- 
 movable on the account of revelation? For in matters of revelation, 
 there must be some antecedent principles supposed, before we can believe 
 anything on the account of it.' 
 
 " More to the same purpose we have some pages further, where, from 
 some of my words, your lordship says, * ' You cannot but observe, that 
 we have no certainty upon my grounds, that self-consciousness depends 
 upon an individual immaterial substance, and, consequently, that a ma- 
 terial substance may, according to my principles, have self- consciousness 
 in it ; at least, that I am not certain of the contrary.' Whereupon your 
 lordship bids me consider, whether this does not a little affect the whole 
 article of the resurrection? What does all this tend to, but to make the 
 world believe that I have lessened the credibility of the immortality of 
 the soul, and the resurrection, by saying, that though it be most highly 
 probable that the soul is immaterial, yet upon my principles it cannot 
 be demonstrated ; because it is not impossible to God's omnipotency, 
 if he pleases to bestow upon some parcels of matter, disposed as he sees 
 fit, a faculty of thinking ? 
 
 "This, your accusation of my lessening the credibility of these ar- 
 ticles of faith, is founded on this : that the article of the immortality of 
 the soul abates of its credibility, if it be allowed, that its immateriality 
 (wliich is the supposed proof from reason and philosophy of its immor- 
 tality) cannot be demonstrated from natural reason : which argument 
 of your lordship's bottoms, as I humbly conceive, on this : that divine 
 revelation abates of its credibility in all those articles it pro]3oses, pro- 
 portionably as human reason fails to support the testimony of God. 
 And all that your lordship in those passages has said, when examined, 
 will, I suppose, be found to import thus much : viz., Does God propose 
 anyt-hing to mankind to be believed ? It is very fit and credible to be 
 believed, if reason can demonstrate it to be true. But if human reason 
 comes short in the case, and cannot make it out, its credibility is thereby 
 lessened ; which is, in effect, to say, that the veracity of God is not a 
 firm and sure foundation of faith to rely upon, without the concurrent 
 testimony of reason, i. e., with reverence be it spoken, God is not to be 
 believed on his own word, unless what he reveals be in itself credible, 
 and might be believed without him. 
 
 ' •' If this be a way to promote religion, the Christian religion, in all 
 its articles, I am not sorry that it is not a way to be found in any of my 
 
 * Second Answer.
 
 400 APPENDIX. 
 
 writings ; for I imagine anything like this would (and I should think 
 deserve to) have other titles than bare scepticism bestowed upon it, and 
 would have raised no small outcry against any one who is not to be 
 supposed to be in the right in all that he says, and so may securely say 
 what he pleases. Such as I, the profanum vulffus, who take too 
 much upon us, if We would examine, have nothing to do but to hearken 
 and believe, though what he said should subvert the very foundations of 
 the Christian faith. 
 
 " What I have above observed, is so visibly contained in your lord- 
 ship's argument, that when I met with it in your answer to my first 
 letter, it seemed so strange for a man of j'our lordship's character, and 
 in a dispute in defence of the doctrine of the Trinity, that I could 
 hardly persuade myself but it was a slip of your pen ; but when I found 
 it in your second letter* made use of again, and seriously enlarged as 
 an argument of weight to be insisted upon, I was convinced that it was 
 a principle th^t you heartily embraced, how little favoui'able soever it 
 was to the articles of the Christian religion, and particularly those 
 which you undertook to defend. 
 
 " I desire my reader to peruse the passages as they stand in your 
 letters themselves, and see whether what you say in them does not 
 amount to this, that a revelation from God is more or less credible, 
 according as it has a stronger or weaker confirmation from human 
 reason. For, 
 
 "1. Your lordship says,t 'You do not question whether God can 
 give immortality to a material substance ; but you say it takes ofiF very 
 much from the evidence of immortality, if it depends wholly upon God's 
 giving that, which of its own nature it is not capable of. ' 
 
 ' ' To which I reply, any one not being able to demonstrate the soul 
 to be immaterial, takes off not very much, nor at all, fi-om the evidence 
 of its immortality, if God has revealed that it shall be immortal ; be- 
 cause the veracity of God is a demonstration of the truth of what he 
 has revealed and the want of another demonstration of a proposition, 
 that is demonstratively true, takes not off from the evidence of it. For 
 where there is a clear demonstration, there is as much evidence as any 
 truth can have, that is not self-evident. God has revealed that the 
 souls of men shall live for ever. ' But, ' says your lordship, ' from this 
 evidence it takes off very much, if it depends wholly upon God's giving 
 that which of its own nature it is not capable of, ' i. e., the revelation 
 and testimony of God loses much of its evidence, if this depends whoUy 
 upon the good pleasure of God, and cannot be demonstratively made 
 out by natural reason, that the soul is immaterial, and consequently, in 
 its own nature, immortal. For that is all that here is or can be meant 
 by these words, ' which of its own nature it is not capable of, ' to make 
 them to the purpose. For the whole of your lordship's discourse here 
 is to prove, that the soul cannot be material, because, then, the evidence 
 of its being immortal would be very much lessened. Which is to say, 
 that it is not as credible upon divine revelation, that a material sub- 
 stance should be immortal, as an immaterial ; or, which is all one, that 
 God is not equally to be believed when he declares, that a material sub- 
 
 * Second Answer. + First Answer.
 
 APPENDIX. 401 
 
 stance shall be immortal, as when he declares, that an immaterial shall 
 be so, because tiie immortality of a material substance cannot be demon- 
 strated from natural reason. 
 
 " Let us try this mle of your lordshii)'s a little further: God hath 
 revealed that the bodies men shall have after the resurrection, as well as 
 their souls, shall live to eternity. Does your lordship believe the eternal 
 life of the one of these more than of the other, because you think you 
 can prove it of one of them by natural reason, and of the other not? or 
 can any one who admits of divine revelation in the case, doubt of one of 
 them more than the other? or think this proposition less credible, that 
 the bodies of men after the resurrection shall live for ever ; than this, 
 that the souls of men, shall, after the resurrection , live for ever ? For 
 that he must do, if he thinks either of them is less credible than the 
 other. If this be so, reason is to be consulted how far God is to be be- 
 lieved, and the credit of divine testunony must receive its force from the 
 evidence of reason ; which is evidently to take away the credibility of 
 divine revelation in all supernatural truths wherein the evidence of rea- 
 son fails. And how much such a principle as this tends to the support 
 of the doctrine of the Trinity, or the promoting the Christian religion, 
 I shall leave it to your lordship to consider. 
 
 ' ' I am not so well read in Hobbes or Spinosa, as to be able to say 
 what were their opinions in this matter. But, possibly, there be those 
 who will think your lordship's authority of more use to them in the case 
 than those justly decried names ; and be glad to find your lordship a 
 patron of the oracles of reason, so little to the advantage of the oracles 
 of divine revelation. This, at least, I think, may be subjoined to the 
 words at the bottom of the next page, * That those who have gone about 
 to lessen the credibiUty of the articles of faith, which evidently they do 
 who say they are less credible, because they cannot be made out demon- 
 stratively by natural reason, have not been thought to secure several of 
 the articles of the Christian faith, especially those of the Trinity, incar- 
 nation, and resurrection of the body, which are those upon the account 
 of which I am brought by your lordship into this dispute. 
 
 " I shaU not trouble the reader with your lordship's endeavours in the 
 following words, to prove, ' That if the soul be not an immaterial sub- 
 stance, it can be nothing but life ; ' your very first words visibly confuting 
 all that you allege to that purpose. They are,+ ' If the soul be a mate- 
 rial substance, it is really nothing but life ; ' which is to say, that if the 
 soul be really a substance, it is not really a substance, but really nothing 
 else but an affection of a substance ; for the life, whether of a mate- 
 rial or immaterial substance, is not the substance itself, but an affection 
 of it, 
 
 " 2. You say,+ 'Although we think the separate state of the soul 
 after death, is sufficiently revealed in the Scripture ; yet it creates a 
 great difficulty in understanding it, if the soul be nothing but life, or a 
 material substance, which must be dissolved when life is ended. For if 
 the soul be a material substance, it must be made up, as others are, of 
 the cohesion of solid and separate parts, how minute and invisible soever 
 they be. And what is it which should keep them together, when life is 
 
 * Firat Answer. + Ibid. J Ibid. 
 
 VOL. II. 2 D
 
 402 APPENDIX. 
 
 gone ? So that it is no easy matter to give an account, how the soul should 
 be capable of immortality, unless it be an immaterial substance; and 
 then we know the solution and texture of bodies cannot reach the soul, 
 being of a different nature.' 
 
 ' ' Let it be as hard a matter as it will to give an account what it is 
 that should keep the parts of a material soul together, after it is separated 
 from the body, yet it will be always as easy to give an account of it, as 
 to give an account what it is that shall keep together a material and im- 
 material substance. And yet the difficulty that there is to give an 
 account of that, I hope does not, with your lordship, weaken the credi- 
 bility of the inseparable union of soul and body to eternity : and I per- 
 suade myself that the men of sense, to whom your lordship appeals in 
 the case, do not find their belief of this fundamental point much weak- 
 ened by that difficulty. I thought heretofore, (and by your lordship's 
 permission, would think so still,) that the union of the parts of matter, 
 one with another, is as much in the hands of God, as the union of a 
 material and immaterial substance ; and that it does not take off vei-y 
 much, or at all, from the evidence of immortality, which depends on 
 that union, that it is no easy matter to give an account what it is that 
 should keep them together : though its depending wholly upon the gift 
 and good pleasure of God, where the manner creates great difficulty in 
 the understanding, and our reason cannot discover in the nature of 
 things how it is, be that which your lordship so positively says, lessens 
 the credibility of the fundamental articles of the resurrection and im- 
 mortality. 
 
 ' ' But, my lord, to remove this objection a little, and to show of how 
 small force it is even with yourself ; give me leave to presume, that your 
 lordship as fii'mly believes the immortality of the body after the resur- 
 rection, as any other article of faith : if so, then it being no easy matter 
 to give an account, what it is that shall keep together the parts of a 
 material soul, to one that believes it is material, can no more weaken 
 the credibility of its immortality, than the like difficulty weakens the 
 credibility of the immortality of the body. For when your lordship 
 shall find it an easy matter to give an account what it is, besides the 
 good pleasure of God, which shall keep together the parts of our material 
 bodies to eternity, or even soul and body ; I doubt not but any one, who 
 shall think the soul material, will also find it as easy to give an account 
 what it is that shall keep those parts of matter also together to eternity. 
 
 "Were it not that the warmth of controversy is apt to make men so 
 far forget, as to take up those principles themselves (when they will 
 serve their turn) which they have highly condemned in others, I should 
 wonder to find your lordship to argue, that because it is a difficulty to 
 understand what shall keep together the minute parts of a material soul, 
 when life is gone; and because it is not an easy matter to give an 
 account how the soul shall be capable of immortality, unless it be an 
 immaterial substance : therefore it is not so credible, as if it were easy to 
 give an account by natural reason, how it could be. For to this it is, 
 that all this your discourse tends, as is evident by what is already set 
 down ; and will be more fully made out by what your lordship says in 
 other places, though there needs no such proof, since it would all be 
 nothing against me in any other sense.
 
 APPENDIX. 403 
 
 " I thought your lordsliip liad in other places asserted, and insisted on 
 this truth, that no part of divine revelation was the less to be believed, 
 because the thing itself created great difficulty in the understanding, and 
 the manner of it was hard to be explained ; and it was no easy matter to 
 give an account how it was. This, as I take it, your lordship con- 
 demned in others, as a veiy unreasonable principle, and such as would 
 subvert all the articles of the Christian religion, that were mere matters 
 of faith, as I think it will : and is it possible, that you should make use 
 of it here yourself, against the article of life and immortality, that Christ 
 hath brought to light through the gospel, and neither was nor could be 
 made out by natural reason without revelation ? But you will say, you 
 speak only of the soul; and your words are, 'That it is no easy matter 
 to give an account how the soul should be capable of immortality, unless 
 it be an immaterial substance. ' I grant it ; but crave leave to say, that 
 there is not any one of those difficulties, that are or can be raised about 
 the manner how a material soul can be immortal, which do not as well 
 reach the immortality of the body. 
 
 "But if it were not so, I am sure this principle of your lordship's 
 would reach other articles of faith, wherein our natural reason finds it 
 not so easy to give an account how those mysteries are : and which, 
 therefore, according to your principles, must be less credible than other 
 articles, that create less difficulty to the understanding. For your 
 lordship says, * ' That you appeal to any man of sense, whether to a man 
 who thought by his principles, he could from natural grounds demon- 
 strate the immortality of the soul, the finding the uncertainty of those 
 principles he went upon in point of reason, ' i. c, the finding he could not 
 certainly prove it by natural reason, doth not weaken the credibility of 
 that fundamental article, when it is considered purely as a matter of 
 faith ? Which, in effect, I humbly conceive, amounts to this, that a pro- 
 position divinely revealed that cannot be proved by natural reason, is 
 less credible than one that can : which seems to me to come very little 
 short of this, vdth due reverence be it spoken, that God is less to be 
 believed when he affirms a proposition that cannot be proved by natural 
 reason, than when he proposes what can be proved by it. The direct 
 contrary to which is my opinion, though you endeavour to make it good 
 by these following words : t 'If the evidence of faith fall so much short 
 of that of reason, it must needs have less effect upon men's minds, when 
 the subserviency of reason is taken away; as it must be, when the 
 grounds of certainty by reason are vanished. Is it at aU probable, that 
 he who finds his reason deceive him in such fundamental points, should 
 have his faith stand firm and immovable on the account of revelation ? ' 
 Than which I think there are hardly plainer words to be found out to 
 declare, that the credibility of God's testimony depends on the natural 
 evidence of probability of the things we receive from revelation ; and 
 rises and falls with it ; and that the truths of God, or the articles of mere 
 faith, lose so much of their credibility as they want proof from reason ; 
 which, if true, revelation may come to have no creilibility at all. For 
 if, in this present case, the credibility of this proposition, ' the souls of 
 men shall live for ever,' revealed in the Scripture, be lessened by con- 
 
 * Second Answer. t Ibid. 
 
 2d2
 
 404 APPENDIX. 
 
 fessing it cannot be demonstratively proved from reason, though it be 
 asserted to be most highly proliable ; must not, by the same rule, its 
 credibility dwindle away to nothing, if natural reason should not be able 
 to make it out to be so much as probable, or should place the probability 
 from natural principles on the other side ? For if mere want of demon- 
 stration lessens the credibility of any proposition divinely revealed, must 
 not want of probability, or contrary probability from natural reason, 
 quite take away its credibility? Here at last it must end, if in any one 
 case the veracity of God, and the credibility of the truths we receive 
 from him by revelation, be subjected to the verdicts of human reason, 
 and be allowed to receive any accession or diminution from other proofs, 
 or want of other proofs of its certainty or probability. 
 
 "If this be your lordship's way to promote religion, or defend its 
 articles, I know not what argument the greatest enemies of it could use 
 more effectually for the subversion of those you have undertaken to 
 defend ; this being to resolve all revelation perfectly and purely into 
 natural reason, to bound its credibility by that, and leave no room for 
 faith in other things, than what can be accounted for by natural reason 
 without revelation. 
 
 " Your lordship * insists much upon it, as if I had contradicted what 
 I have said in my Essay, t by saying, ' that upon my principles it can- 
 not be demonstratively proved, that it is an immaterial substance in us 
 that thinks, however probable it be.' He that will be at the pains to 
 read that chapter of mine, and consider it, will find that my business 
 there was to show, that it was no harder to conceive an immaterial than 
 a material substance ; and that from the ideas of thought, and a power of 
 moving of matter, which we experienced in ourselves, (ideas originally 
 not belonging to matter as matter,) there was no more difficulty to con- 
 clude there was an immaterial substance in us, than that we had ma- 
 terial parts. These ideas of thinking and power of moving of matter, 
 I, in another place, showed, did demonstratively lead us to the certain 
 knowledge of the existence of an immaterial thinking being, in whom 
 v/e have the idea of spirit in the strictest sense ; in which sense I also 
 applied it to the soul, in the 23rd chapter of my Essay ; the easily con- 
 ceivable possibility, nay, great probability, that the thinking substance 
 in us is immaterial, giving me sufficient ground for it. In which sense 
 I shall think I may safely attribute it to the thinking substance in us, till 
 your lordship shall have better proved from my words, that it is impos- 
 sible it should be immaterial. For I only say, that it is possible, i. e., 
 involves no contradiction, that God, the omnipotent, immaterial Spirit, 
 sliould, if he please, give to some parcels of matter, disposed as he thinks 
 fit, a power of thinking and moving ; which parcels of matter so endued 
 with a power of thinking and motion, might properly be called spirits, 
 in contradistinction to unthinking matter : in all which, T presume, there 
 is no manner of contradiction. 
 
 " I justified my use of the word spirit, in that sense, from the autho- 
 rities of Cicero and Virgil, applying the Latin word spii'itus, from whence 
 spirit is derived, to the soul, as a thinking thing, without excluding ma- 
 teriality out of it. To which your lordship repUes, J * that Cicero, in his 
 
 * First Answer. t B. 2. c. 23. ± First Answer.
 
 APPENDIX. 405 
 
 Tusculan Questions, supposes the soul not to be a finer sort of body, 
 but of a different nature from the body — that he calls the body, the 
 prison of the soul — and says, that a wise man's business is to draw off 
 his soul from hLs body.' And then your lordship concludes, as is usual, 
 with a question : ' Is it possible not to think so great a man looked on 
 the soul but as a modification of the body, which nmst be at an end with 
 life?' Answer, No; it is impossible that a man of so good sense as 
 Tully, when he uses the word corptis, or body, for the gross and visible 
 parts of a man, which he acknowledges to be mortal, should look on the 
 soul to be a modification of that body, in a discourse wherein he was 
 endeavouring to persuade another that it was immortal. It is to be 
 acknowledged, that truly great men, such as he was, are not wont so 
 manifestly to contradict themselves. He had therefore no thought con- 
 cerning the modification of the body of a man in the case : he was not 
 such a trifler as to examine whether the modification of the body of a 
 man was immortal, when that body itself was mortal. And therefore, 
 that which he reports as Dicfearchus's opinion, he dismisses in the be- 
 g^ning without any more ado, c. 11. But Cicero's was a direct, plain, 
 and sensible inquiry, 'S'iz., AVhat the soul was? to see whether from 
 thence he could discover its immortality. But in all that discourse in 
 his first book of Tusculan questions, where he lays out so much of his 
 reading and reason, there is not one syllable showing the least thought 
 that the soul was an immaterial substance ; but many things directly to 
 the contrary. 
 
 ■ "Indeed, (1.) he shuts out the body, taken in the sense he uses* 
 corpus all along, for the sensible organical parts of a man ; and is posi- 
 tive that it is not the soul : and body in this sense, taken for the human 
 body, he calls the prison of the soiil ; and says, a wise man, instancing 
 in Socrates and Cato, is glad of a fair opportunity to get out of it. But 
 he nowhere says any such thing of matter : he calls not matter in general 
 the prison of the soul, nor talks a word of being separate from it. 
 
 " 2. He concludes that the soul is not, like other things here below, 
 made up of a composition of the elements, c. 27. 
 
 " 3. He excludes the two gross elements, earth and water, from being 
 the soul, c. 26. 
 
 " So far he is clear and positive; but beyond this he is uncei'tain, 
 beyond this he could not get. For in some places he speaks doubtfully, 
 whether the soul be not air or fire, Aninia sit animus, iynisve, wscio, 
 C. 25, And therefore he agrees with Panjetius, that if it be at all elemen- 
 tary, it is, as he calls it, injiammata anima, inflamed air ; and for tliis he 
 gives several reasons, c. 18, 19. Ajid though he thinks it to be of a 
 peculiar nature of its own, yet he is so far from thinking it immaterial, 
 that he says, c. 19, that the admitting it to be of an aerial or igneous 
 nature wiU not be inconsistent with anything he had said. 
 
 ' ' That which he seems most to incline to, is, that the soul was not at 
 all elementary, but was of the same substance with the heavens ; which 
 Aristotle, to distinguish from the four elements, and the changeable 
 bodies here below, which he supposed made up of them, called quiiiUt 
 esgentia. That this was Tully' s opinion, is plain, from these words ; 
 
 * Ch. 19, 22, 30, 31, &c.
 
 406 APPENDIX, 
 
 Ergo animus (qui, ut ego dico, divinus) est, ut Euripides audet dicere 
 Deus; et quidem si Deus aut anima aut ignis est, idem est animus hominis. 
 Nam ut ilia natura, cwlestis et terrd vacat et humore; sic utriusqiie harum 
 rerum hiomanus animus est exjiers. Sin autem est quinta qucedam na- 
 tter a ab Aristotele inducta; primtim hcec et deorum, est et animorum. 
 Hanc nos sententiam secuti, his ipsis verbis in consolatione hcec expressimus, 
 c. 26. And then he goes on, c. 27, to repeat those his own words, which 
 your lordship has quoted out of him, wherein he had affirmed, in his 
 treatise De Consolatione, the soul not to have its original from the earth, 
 or to be mixed or made of anything earthly ; but had said, Singularis est 
 igitur quKdam natura et vis animi, sejuncta ab his usitatis notisque 
 naturis; whereby, he tells us, he meant nothing but Aristotle's quinta 
 essentia; which being unmixed, being that of which the gods and souls 
 consisted, he calls it divinum cceleste, and concludes it eternal ; it being 
 as he speaks, sejuncta ab omni mortali concretione. From which it is 
 clear, that in all his inquiry about the substance of the soul, his thoughts 
 went not beyond the four elements, or Aristotle's quinta essentia, to 
 look for it. In all which, there is nothing of immateriality, but quite the 
 contrary. 
 
 " He was willing to believe (as good and wise men have always been) 
 that the soul was immortal ; but for that it is plain he never thought of 
 its immateriality, but as the eastern people do, who believe the soul to 
 be immortal, but have nevertheless no thought, no conception of its 
 immateriality. It is remarkable what a veiy considerable and judicious 
 author says in this case.* 'No opinion,' says he, 'has been so univer- 
 sally received as that of the immortality of the soul ; but its immateriality 
 is a ti-uth, the knowledge whereof has not spread so far. And indeed it 
 is extremely difficult to let into the mind of a Siamite the idea of a pure 
 spirit. This the missionaries, who have been longest amongst them, are 
 positive in. All the Pagans of the East do truly believe that there 
 remains something of a man after his death, which subsists independently 
 and separately from his body. But they give extension and figure to 
 that which remains, and attribute to it all the same members, all the 
 same substances, both solid and liquid, which our bodies are composed 
 of. They only suppose that the souls are of a matter subtile enough to 
 escape being seen or handled. Such were the shades and the manes of 
 the Greeks and the Romans. And it is by these figures of the souls, 
 jtnswerable to those of the bodies, that Virgil supposed ^neas knew 
 Palinurus, Dido, and Anchises in the other world. ' 
 
 " This gentleman was not a man that travelled into those parts for his 
 pleasure, and to have the opportunity to tell strange stories collected 
 by chance, when he returned ; but one chosen on purpose (and he 
 seems well chosen for the purpose) to inquire into the singularities of 
 Siam. And he has so well acquitted himself of the commission which 
 his Epistle Dedicatory tells us he had, to infonn hunself exactly of 
 what was most remarkable there, that had we but such an account of 
 other countries of the East as he has given us of this kingdom, which . 
 he was an envoy to, we should be much better acquainted than we are 
 with the manners, notions, and religions of that part of the world in-i 
 
 * Loubbre du Eoyaume de Siam, t. i. c. 19, § 4.
 
 • APPENDIX. 407 
 
 habited by civilized nations, who want neither good sense nor acuteness 
 of reason, though not cast into the mould of the logic and philosophy of 
 our schools. 
 
 " But to return to Cicero : it is plain that, in his inquiries about the 
 soul, his thoughts went not at all beyond matter. This the expressions 
 that drop from him in several places of this book evidently sliow. For 
 example, ' That the souls of excellent men and women ascended into 
 heaven; of others, that they remained here on earth,' c. 12. 'That 
 the soul is hot, and warms the body : tliat on its leaving the body, it 
 penetrates and divides, and breaks through our thick, cloudy, moist 
 air ; that it stops in the region of fire, and ascends no further, the 
 equality of warmth and weight making that its proper place, where it 
 is nourished and sustained with the same things wherewith the stars are 
 nourished and sustained, and that by the convenience of its neighbour- 
 hood it shall tliere have a clearer view and fuller knowledge of the 
 heavenly bodies, ' c. 19. 'That the soul also, from this height, shall 
 have a pleasant and fairer prospect of the globe of the earth, the dispo- 
 sition of whose parts will then lie before it in one view,' c. 20. ' That 
 it is hard to determine what conformation, size, and place the soul has 
 in the body : that it is too subtile to be seen ; that it is in the human 
 body, as in a house or a vessel, or a receptacle,' c. 22. All which are 
 expressions that sufficiently evidence that he who used them had not in 
 his mind separated materiality from the idea of the soul. 
 
 " It may perhaps be replied, that a great part of this which we find 
 in c. 19, is said upon the principles of those who would have the soul 
 to be anima injlammata, inflamed air. I grant it. But it is also to be 
 observed, that in this 19th and the two following chapters, he does not 
 only not deny, but even admits, that so material a thing as inflamed air 
 may think. 
 
 " The truth of the case, in short, is this: Cicero was willing to be- 
 lieve thf! soul immortal ; but when he sought in the nature of the soul 
 itself something to establish this his belief into a certainty of it, he 
 found himself at a loss. He confessed he knew not what the soul was ; 
 but the not knowing what it was, he argues, c. 22, was no reason to 
 conclude it was not. And thereupon he proceeds to the repetition of 
 what he had said in his 6th book, de Repiib., concerning the souL The 
 argument which, boiTowed from Plato, he there makes use of, if it have 
 any force in it, not only proves the soul to be immortal, but more than, 
 I think, your lordship will allow to be true ; for it proves it to be 
 eternal, and without beginning, as well as without end : Neque nata 
 certe est, et ceferna est, says he. 
 
 ' ' Indeed, from the faculties of the soul, he concludes right, ' that it 
 ifl of divine original. ' But as to the substance of the soul, he at the end 
 of this discourse concerning its faculties, c. 25, as well as at the be- 
 ginning of it, c. 22, is not ashamed to own his ignorance of what it is : 
 Anima sit anivius, ignisve, nescio; nee me pudct ut tstos, fateri nescire 
 quod nesciam. Illud, si ulla alia de re obscura a^rmare possem, sive 
 anima, sive ignis sit animus, eum jurarem esse divinum, c. 2.'>. So that 
 all the certainty he could attain to about the soul w.as, that he was con- 
 fident there was something divine in it, i. e., there were faculties in the 
 oul that could not result from the nature of matter, but must have
 
 408 APPENDIX. 
 
 their original from a divine power ; but yet those qualities, divine as 
 they were, he acknowledged might be placed in breath or fire, which I 
 think your lordship will not deny to be material substances. So that all 
 those divine qualities, which he so much and so justly extols in the soul, 
 led him not, as appears, so much as to any the least thought of imma- 
 teriality. This is demonstration that he built them not upon an ex- 
 clusion of materiality out of the soul ; for he avowedly professes he does 
 not know but breath or fire might be this thinking thing in us : and in 
 all his considerations about the substance of the soul itself, he stuck in 
 air or fire, or Aristotle's quinta essentia; for beyond those it is evident 
 he went not. 
 
 " But with all his proofs out of Plato, to whose authority he defers 
 so much, with all the arguments his vast reading and great parts could 
 furnish him with for the immortality of the soul, he was so little satis- 
 fied, so far from being certain, so far from any thought that he had or 
 could prove it, that he over and over again professes his ignorance and 
 doubt of it. In the beginning, he enumerates the several opinions of 
 the philosophers, which he had well studied, about it. And then, full of 
 uncertainty, ss,yei, Harum scntentiarum qua vera sit, Beus aliquis viderit ; 
 quce verisimillima magna qucestio, c. 11. And towards the latter end, 
 having gone them all over again, and one after another examined them, 
 he professes himself still at a loss, not knowing on which to pitch, nor 
 what to determine. Mentis acies, says he, seipsam intuens, nonnun- 
 quam hcbescit, oh eamque causam contenixjlandi diligentiam omittimus. 
 Itaque dubitans, circumspectans, hcesitans, multa adversa revertens, 
 tanquam in rate in viari immenso, nostra vehitur oratio, c. 30. And to 
 conclude this argument, when the person he introduces as discoursing 
 with him tells him he is resolved to keep firm to the belief of immor- 
 tality, TuUy answers, c. 32, Laxhdo id qiiidem, et si nihil animis oportei 
 considere: movemur enim scepe aliquo acute concluso ; labamus, mutor 
 musque sententiam clarioribus etiam in rebus; in his est enim aliqua 
 obscuritas. 
 
 " So immovable is that truth delivered by the Spirit of Truth, that 
 though the light of nature gave some obscure glimmering, some uncer- 
 tain hopes of a future state ; yet human reason could attain to no clear- 
 ness, no certainty about it, but that it was JESUS CHRIST alone who 
 had brought life and immortality to light, through the gospel.* Though 
 we are now told, that to own the inabilitj- of natural reason to bring 
 immortality to light, or, which passes for the same, to own principles 
 upon which the immateriality of the soul (and, as it is urged, consequently, 
 its immortality) cannot be demonstratively proved, does lessen the belief 
 of this article of revelation, which JESUS CHRIST alone has brought 
 to light, and which, consequently, the scripture assures us is established 
 and made certain only by revelation. This would not perhaps have 
 seemed strange from those who are justly complained of, for slighting 
 the revelation of the gospel, and therefore would not be much regarded, 
 if they should contradict so plain a text of scripture, in favour of their 
 all-sufficient reason. But what use the promoters of scepticism and in- 
 fidelity, in an age so much suspected by your lordship, may make of 
 
 * 2 Tim. i. 10.
 
 APPENDIX. 40ft 
 
 what comes from one of your great authority and learning, may deserve 
 your consideration. 
 
 ' ' And thus, my lord, I hope I have satisfied you concerning Cicero's 
 opinion about the soul, in his first book of Tusculan Questions ; which, 
 though I easily believe, as your lordship says, you are no stranger to, 
 yet I humbly conceive you have not shown (and upon a careful perusal 
 of that treatise again, I think I may boldly say you cannot show) one 
 word in it that expresses anything like a notion in Tully of the soul's im- 
 materiality, or its being an immaterial substance. 
 
 "From what you bring out of Virgil, your lordship concludes,* ' that 
 he, no more than Cicero, does me any kindness in this matter, being 
 both asserters of the soul's immortality. ' My lord, were not the question 
 of the soul's immateriality, according to custom, changed here into that 
 of its immortality, which I am no less an asserter of than either of them, 
 Cicero and Virgil do me all the kindness I desired of them in this mat- 
 ter; and that was to show that they attributed the word sjyiritus to the 
 soul of man, without any thought of its immateriality; and this the 
 verses you yourself biing out of Virgil, t 
 
 ' Et cum frigida mors animje seduxerit artus, 
 Omnibus umbra locis adero; dabis, improbe, pcenas,' 
 
 confirm, as well as those I quoted out of his sixth Book ; and for this 
 M. de la Loubfere shall be my witness, in the words above set down out of 
 him ; where he shows that there be those amongst the heathens of our 
 days, as well as Virgil and others amongst the ancient Greeks and Ro- 
 mans, who thought the souls or ghosts of men departed did not die with 
 the body, without thinking them to be perfectly immaterial ; the latter 
 being much more incomprehensible to them than the former. And 
 what Virgil's notion of the soul is, and that corpus, when put in con- 
 tradistinction to the soul, signifies nothing but the gross tenement of 
 flesh and bones, is evident from this verse of his ./Eneid, 6, where he 
 calls the souls which yet were visible, 
 
 ' Tenues sine corpore vitte. ' 
 
 "Your lordship's answer + concerning what is said, Eccles. xii., turns 
 wholly upon Solomon's taking the soul to be immortal, which was not 
 i what I question ; all that I quoted that place for, was to show that spirit 
 in English might properly be applied to the soul, without any notion 
 ! of its immaterialit}', as niS was by Solomon, which, whether he thought 
 Ithe souls of men to be immaterial, does little appear in that passage 
 1 where he speaks of the souls of men and beasts together, as he does. 
 But further, what I contended for is evident from that place, in that the 
 I word spirit is there applied by our translators to the souls of beasts, 
 ! which your lordship, I think, does not rank amongst the immaterial, 
 'and consequently immortal spirits, though they have sense and spon- 
 taneous motion. 
 
 " But you say, § ' if the soul be not of itself a free, thinking substance, 
 1 you do not see what foundation there is in nature for a day of judgment.' 
 Answer. Though the heathen world did not of old, nor do to this day, 
 
 * First Answer. t .^Eneid. 4. 385. X First Answer. § Ibid.
 
 410 APPENDIX. 
 
 see a foundation in nature for a day of judgment ; yet in revelation, if 
 that will satisfy your lordship, every one may see a foundation for a day 
 of judgment, because God has positively declared it; though God has 
 not by that revelation taught us what the substance of the soul is ; nor has 
 anywhere said, that the soul of itself is a free agent. Whatsoever any 
 created substance is, it is not of itself, but is by the good pleasure of its 
 Creator : whatever degrees of perfection it has, it has from the bountiful 
 hand of its Maker. For it is true in a natural, as well as a spiritual 
 sense, what St. Paul says,* ' Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to 
 think anything as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God.' 
 
 ' ' But your lordship, as I guess by your following words, would argue, 
 that a material substance cannot be a free agent ; whereby I suppose 
 you only mean, that you cannot see or conceive how a solid substance 
 should begin, stop, or change its own motion. To which give me leave 
 to answer, that when you can make it conceivable how any created, 
 finite, dependent substance can move itself, or alter or stop its own 
 motion, which it must to be a free agent, I suppose you will find it 
 no harder for God to bestow this power on a solid than an unsoiid 
 created substance. Tully, in the place above quoted, f could not con- 
 ceive this power to be in anything but what was from eternity : Cum 
 pateat igitur ceternum id esse quod seipsum moveat quis est qui hanc 
 naturam animis esse tributam neget ? But though you cannot see how 
 any created substance, solid or not solid, can be a free agent, (pardon 
 me, my lord, if I put in both, till your lordship please to explaia it of 
 either, and show the manner how either of them can of itself move 
 itself or anything else,) yet I do not think you will so deny men to 
 be free agents, from the difficulty there is to see how they are free 
 agents, as to doubt whether there be foundation enough for a day of 
 judgment. 
 
 " It is not for me to judge how far your lordship's speculations reach; 
 but finding in myself nothing to be truer than what the wise Solomon 
 tells me, + ' As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor 
 how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child ; even so 
 thou knowest not the works of God, who raaketh all things ;' I grate- 
 fully receive and rejoice in the light of revelation, which sets me at rest 
 in many things, the manner whereof my poor reason can by no means 
 make out to me. Omnipotency, I know, can do anything that contains 
 in it no contradiction ; so that I readily believe whatever God has de- 
 clared, though my reason find difficulties in it, which it cannot master. 
 As in the present case, God having revealed that there shall be a day of 
 judgment, I think that foundation enough to conclude men are free 
 enough to be made answerable for their actions, and to receive according 
 to what they have done ; though how man is a free agent, surpasses my 
 explication or compi-ehension. 
 
 "In answer to the place I brought out of St. Luke,§ your lordship 
 asks, II ' Whether from these words of om- Saviour it follows that a spirit 
 is only an appearance? I answer. No; nor do I know who drew such 
 an inference from them : but it follows, that in apparitions there is 
 
 * 2 Cor. iii. 5. t Tus. Qusest. 1. i. c. 23. J Eccles. xi. 5. 
 
 § Luke xxiv. 39. II First Answer.
 
 APPENDIX. 411 
 
 something that appears, and that tliat which appears is not wholly im- 
 material ; and yet this was properly called -Kvivna, and was often looked 
 upon by those who called it irvivfia in Greek, and now call it spirit in 
 English, to be the ghost or soul of one departed; which, I humbly con- 
 ceive, justifies my use of the word spirit, for a thinking, voluntary agent, 
 whether material or immaterial. 
 
 "Your lordship says,* 'that I grant, that it cannot upon these prin- 
 ciples be demonstrated, that the spiritual sul)stance in us is immaterial : ' 
 from whence you conclude,' 'that then my grounds of certainty from 
 ideas are plainly given up.' This being a way of arguing that you often 
 make use of, I have often had occasion to consider it, and cannot after 
 all see the force of this argument. I acknowledge that this or that pro- 
 position cannot upon my principles be demonstrated ; ergo, I gi-ant this 
 proposition to be false, that certainty consists in the perception of the 
 agreement or disagreement of ideas. For that is my ground of certainty, 
 and till that be given up, my grounds of certainty are not given up." 
 
 * First Answer.
 
 AN EXAMINATION 
 
 OF 
 
 P. MALEBRANCHE'S OPINION 
 
 OF 
 
 SEEING ALL THINGS IN GOD. 
 
 [It would here be altogether out of place to attempt an outline of Male- 
 branche's whole philosophy, since only a very small portion of it is 
 attacked in the following treatise by Locke. Besides, the merit of Male- 
 branche lies not, I think, in the invention of a system, but in the criticism 
 of such other systems as still preserved some credit in his time. Tenne- 
 mann (Manual of the History of Philosophy, § 341,) gives an account of 
 the doctrines of this writer. Buhle (Histoire de la Philosophic Modeme, 
 t. iii. p. 367 — 425) supplies a tolerably correct and intelligible abridg- 
 ment of his general views. But, stated in any other language than his 
 own, it is to be feared that his method of reasoning will appear unsatis- 
 factory, since the whole vitality of the Recherche de la Y6nt6 is, in my 
 humble opinion, to be found in the rich, polished, and flexible style in 
 which it is written. Here it is not to be denied he possesses considerable 
 superiority over Locke ; but however ably he may write, and however 
 subtly he may reason, it soon becomes evident, upon a diligent perusal, 
 that his mind was too much clouded by mysticism to permit of his seeing 
 his way clearly through the labyrinth of metaphysics. He falls per- 
 petually into contradictions ; often appears to confound the soul with its 
 material organ, the brain ; now verges towards the loftiest idealism ; 
 now adopts the tone and language of a Pantheist ; and in the favourite, 
 and perhaps the only new, part of his system, viz., that which teaches 
 that we behold all things in God, he grows so mystical, so confused, so 
 irreconcilable with common sense and experience, that we at length dis- 
 miss the whole speculation as a mere dream. In this light it is quite clear 
 Locke considered it. He was no doubt restrained by the widely- extended 
 reputation of Malebranche, as well as by his own natural politeness, from 
 speaking of it so plainly as now becomes our duty ; but yet he manages to 
 show, in the course of his arguments, that the worthy father of the Oratory 
 is very frequently at variance with conmion sense. Undeterred by this 
 exposure, by anticipation, of his principles, Bishop Berkeley very shortly 
 afterwards spun his famous system on Malebranche'a distaff; for it is 
 almost capable of demonstration, that the Bishop of Cloyne's idealism 
 was hatched in the cloisters of the Oratory. I am far from desiring to 
 undervalue the contributions which any philosopher has made towards 
 the more complete understanding of the origin and nature of our ideas, 
 of the powers of our mind, our relations to the First Cause of ideas, of 
 sensations, and of knowledge ; but it must be owned that the frank and
 
 4:14 AS EXAMINATION OF 
 
 earnest student of philosophy frequently finds himself called upon to 
 exercise all his patience and forbearance, in making his way through the 
 writings of Malebranche. Even the refutation of his erroi-s by Locke 
 may be said to furnish a proof of this fact, since the utter groundless- 
 ness of hLs suppositions now appears so self-evident, as to stand in need 
 of no refutation. But the case was very different in Locke's time, and 
 perhaps would be so still, had not the public mind been long ago weaned 
 from pursuits purely speculative, in order to apply itself with undivided 
 earnestness to the sciences which are the more immediate ministers of 
 the progress and happiness to mankind. — Ed.] 
 
 1 . The acute and ingenious authoi' of the Recherche de la 
 Verite,* among a great many very fine thoughts, judicious 
 reasonings, and uncommon reflections, has in that treatise 
 started the notion of Seeing all Things in God, as the best 
 way to explain the nature and manner of the ideas in our 
 understanding. The desire I had to have my unaffected ig- 
 norance removed, has made it necessary for me to see whether 
 this hypothesis, when examined, and the parts of it put 
 together, can be thought to cure our ignorance, or is intelli- 
 gible and satisfactory to one who would not deceive himself, 
 take words for things, and think he knows what he knows 
 not. 
 
 2. This I observe at the entrance, that P. Malebranche 
 having enumerated, and in the following chapters showed the 
 difficulties of the other ways, whereby he thinks human un- 
 derstanding may be attempted to be explained, and how 
 insufficient they are to give a satisfactory account of the ideas 
 we have, erects this of Seeing all Things in God upon their 
 ruin, as the true, because it is impossible to find a better; 
 which argument, so far from being only argumentum ad igno- 
 rantiam, loses all its force as soon as we consider the weak- 
 ness of our minds and the narrowness of our capacities, and 
 have but humility enough to allow, that there may be many 
 things which we cannot fully comprehend, and that God is 
 not bound in all he does to subject his ways of operation to 
 the scrutiny of our thoughts, and confine himself to do no- 
 
 * The edition of the Recherche de la V^rit^ which Locke used, was 
 that in quarto, printed at Paris, in 1678 ; and when he had occasion to 
 compare it with any other, he seems always to have made use of the 
 small octavo, printed at the same place, and in the same year. By 
 chance it happens that this second edition is the one we have now before 
 us, and to which we shall refer in the notes. — Ed.
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 415 
 
 thing but what we must comprehend. And it will very little 
 help to cure my ignorance, that this is the best of four or 
 five hypotheses proposed, which are all defective ; if this too 
 has in it what is inconsistent with itself, or unintelligible 
 to me. 
 
 3. The P. Malebranche's Recherche de la Vcrit6, 1. 3, p. 2, 
 c. 1, tells us, that, whatever the mind perceives, " must be 
 actually present and intimately united to it."* That the 
 things that the mind perceives are its own sensations, imagi- 
 nations, or notions; which being in the soul, the modifica- 
 tions of it need no ideas to represent them. But all things 
 exterior to the soul we cannot perceive but by the interven- 
 tion of ideas, supposing that the things themselves cannot be 
 intimately united to the soul. But because spiritual things 
 may possibly be imited to the soul, therefore he thinks it 
 probable that they can discover themselves immediately with- 
 out ideas ;t though of this he doubts, because he believes not 
 there is any substance purely intelligible, but that of God; 
 and that though spirits can possibly unite themselves to our 
 minds, yet, at present, we cannot entirely know them. But 
 he speaks here principally of material things, which he says 
 certainly cannot unite themselves to our souls in such a 
 manner as is necessary that it should perceive them ; because, 
 being extended, the soul not being so, there is no proportion 
 between them. 
 
 4. This is the sum of his doctrine contained in the first 
 chapter of the second part of the third book, as far as I can 
 comprehend it. Wherein, I confess, there are many expres- 
 sions which, carrying with them, to my mind, no clear ideas, 
 
 * The words of Malebranche are — "II faut bien remarquer qu'afin 
 que r esprit appercoive quelque cliose, il est absolument necessaire que 
 I'id^e de cette chose lui soit actuellement pr^sente." (Recherche de la 
 V^rit4 1. III. p. ii. c. 1.) 
 
 + On this part of his system Malebranche evidently entertained no 
 very clear or distinct ideas. " De sorte," says he, " qu'il ne aemble pas 
 absolument necessaire d'admettre des iddes pour representer k I'ame des 
 choses spirituelles parce qu'l se peut fairequ'on lea voye par elles memes, 
 quoique d'une manifere fort imparfaite." (t. p. 346.) In the notes on 
 the Essay on the Human Understanding, the reader will have observed 
 that Bishop Berkeley, who may be regarded as the Malebranche of 
 Great Britain, entertained as nearly as possible the same opini(jn, with 
 respect to the knowledge we can have of spirits. (See Book 11. c. xxi. 
 p. 210.)— Ed
 
 416 AN EXAMINATION OP 
 
 are like to remove but little of my ignorance by tbeir sounds : 
 V. g., " What it is to be intimately united to the soul," What 
 it is for two souls or spirits to be intimately united; for inti- 
 mate union being an idea taken from bodies when the parts 
 of one get within the surface of the other, and touch their 
 inward parts; what is the idea of intimate union 1 must 
 have between two beings that have neither of them any ex- 
 tension or surface? And if it be not so explained as to give 
 me a clear idea of that union, it will make me understand 
 very little more of the nature of the ideas in my mind, when 
 it is said I see them in God, who, being intimately united to 
 the soul, exhibits them to it ; than when it is only said they 
 are, by the appointment of God, produced in the mind by 
 certain motions of our bodies, to which ovir minds are united : 
 which, however imperfect a way of explaining this matter, 
 will still be as good as any other that does not by clear ideas 
 i-emove my ignorance of the manner of my perception. 
 
 5. But he says that " certainly material things cannot unite 
 themselves to our souls." Our bodies are united to our souls, 
 yes; but, says he, "not after a manner which is necessary 
 that the soul may perceive them."* Explain this manner of 
 union, and show wherein the difference consists between the 
 union necessary and not necessary to perception, and then I 
 shall confess this difficulty removed. 
 
 The reason that he gives why material thing^ cannot be 
 united to our souls after a manner that is necessary to the 
 soul's perceiving them, is this, viz., " That material things 
 being extended, and the soul not, there is no proportion be- 
 tween them." This, if it shows anything, shows only that a 
 soul and a body cannot be united, because one has surface to 
 be united by, and the other none. But it shows not why a 
 
 + To reasoning like that of Malebranche, no other answer perhaps 
 could properly be made, but that which is here given by Locke. Having 
 promised to explain, in a future chapter, the manner in which we obtain 
 a knowledge of spirits, Malebranche goes on to remark of material sub- 
 stances, that they cannot be united to our souls in the way necessary 
 to enable us to perceive them ; and he subjoins his reason, such as it 
 is, for this opinion. "Je parle," says he, " principallement ici des 
 choses materielles lesquelles certainement ne peuvent s'unir k n6tre ame 
 de la manifere qu'il est necessaire afin qu'elle les appercoive, parce 
 qu' etant ^tendue et I'ame ne I'etant ,pas il n'y a point de proportion 
 entre-elles." (t. i. p. 340.)— Ed.
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 417 
 
 soul united to a body, as ours is, cannot, by that body, have 
 the idea of a triangle excited in it, as well as by being united 
 to God (between whom and the soul there is as little propor- 
 tion, as between any creature immaterial or material, and the 
 soul) see in God the idea of a triangle that is in him, since 
 we cannot conceive a triangle, whether seen in matter or in 
 God, to be without extension. 
 
 6. He says, " There is no substance purely intelligible 
 but that of God." * Here again I must confess myself in 
 the dark, having no notion at all of the substance of God; 
 nor being able to conceive how his is more intelligible than 
 any other substance. 
 
 7. One thing more there is, which, I confess, stumbles 
 me in the veiy foundation of this hypothesis, which stands 
 thus : " We cannot perceive anything but what is intimately 
 united to the soid. The reason why some things, (viz., ma- 
 terial,) cannot be intimately united to the soul, is, because 
 there is no proportion between the soul and them." If this 
 be a good reason, it follows that the greater the proportion 
 there is between the soul and any other being, the better 
 and more intimately they can be united. Now, then, I ask, 
 whether there be a greater proportion between God, an in- 
 finite Being, and the soul, or between finite created spirit 
 and the soul? And yet the author says, that " he believes 
 that there is no substance purely intelligible, but that of 
 God," and that " we cannot entirely know created spirits 
 
 * The passage in which Malebranche states this opinion is the follow- 
 ing: — "II n'y a que Dieu que Ton connoisse par lui meme; car encore 
 qu'il y ait, d'autres etres Spirituals que lui, et qui semblent etre intel- 
 ligible par leur nature, il n'y a presentement que lui seul, qui penetre 
 r esprit et se decouvre a lui. Nous ne voyons que Disu d'une vue im- 
 mediate et directe. Pent etre meuie qu'il n'y a que lui, qui puisse 
 eclairer 1' esprit par se propre substance. Enfin dans cette vie ce n'est 
 que par I'union que nous avons avec lui, que nous sommes capable de 
 connoltre ce que nous connoissons." (t. i. p. 374.) The error of this phi- 
 losopher appears to have originated in the pious desire to exalt the 
 greatness of God, by dwelling on the weakness and insignificance of 
 man; but, like many other writers equally well-meaning, he fell into 
 what, written with other intentions, would have been mere impiety. 
 For since it is God who created the human understanding, who has 
 bestowed on us all our faculties, who, in short, has made us what we 
 are, it cannot be consistent with true piety to depreciate our own intel- 
 tellects, or to seek to degrade and vilify the powers with which we have 
 been gifted by Omnipotence. — Ed. 
 
 VOL. II. 2 E
 
 418 AX EXAMINATION OF 
 
 at present." Make this out upon your principles of intimate 
 union and proportion, and then they will be of some use to the 
 cleainng of your hypothesis, otherwise intimate union and 
 proportion are only sounds serving to amuse, not instruct us. 
 
 8. In the close of this chapter he enumerates the several 
 ways whereby he thinks we come by ideas, and compares 
 them severally with his own way ; which, how much more 
 intelligible it is than either of those, the following chaptei-s 
 will show; to which I shall proceed, when I have observed 
 that it seems a bold determination, when he says, that it 
 must be one of these ways, and we can see objects no other.* 
 Which assertion must be built on this good opinion of our 
 capacities that God cannot make the creatures operate but 
 in ways conceivable to us. That we cannot discourse and 
 reason about them further than we conceive, is a great truth ; 
 and it would be well if we would not, but would ingenuously 
 own the shortness of our sight where we do not see. To 
 say there can be no other, because we conceive no other, 
 does not, I confess, much instruct. And if I should say,. 
 that it is possible God has made our souls so, and so united 
 them to our bodies that, upon certain motions made in our 
 bodies by external objects, the soul should have such or 
 such perceptions or ideas, though in a way inconceivable to 
 us ; this perhaps would appear as true and as instructive a 
 proposition as what is so positively laid down. 
 
 9. Though the Peripatetic Doctrine of the Species t does 
 
 * It was, no doubt, very far from being the intention of Malebranche 
 to set up his own understanding as the measure of the Infinite ; but yet, 
 without appearing to have any such design, he contrives to make it felt 
 that God can furnish us with ideas by no other means, and in no other 
 ways, than such as he ventures to enumerate. "Nous assurons done 
 ou'il est absolument necessaire, que les id^es que nous avons des coi-ps, 
 et de tous les autres objets que nous n'appercevons point par eux-memes, 
 viennent de ces memes corps, ou de ces objets ; ou bien que ndtre ame, 
 ait la puissance de produire ces idt^es : ou que Dieu les ait produites aveo 
 elle en la creant, ou qu'il les produire toutes les fois qu'on pense h. quelque 
 objet: ou que Tame ait en elle meme toutes les perfections qu'elle voit 
 dans ces corps : ou enfin qu'elle soit unie avec un etre tout parfait, et 
 qui renferme g^n^ralement toutes les perfections des ^tres er^ez." (L. 
 III. Pt. II. c. i. f. i. p. 346.)— Ed. 
 
 + Tlie passage in which Malebranche ridicules the doctrine of species 
 visible, maintained by the Peripatetics, is witty enough ; but when the 
 reader has considered it carefully, I very much question whether he will 
 allow it to be a correct representation of the ancient system, or in any.
 
 p. malebranche's opinion, 419 
 
 not at all satisfy me, yet I think it were not hard to show, 
 that it is as easy to account for the difficulties he cliarges 
 on it, as for those his own hypothesis is laden with. But 
 it being not my business to defend what I do not understand, 
 nor to j)refer the learned gibberish of the schools to what 
 
 wa}' conclusive against it. "On assure done qu'il n'y a aucune vrai- 
 semblance, que les objets envoyent des images, ou des espbces qui leur 
 resemblent; de quoi voici quelques raisons. La premiere se tire de 
 I'lmpen^trabilit^ des corps. Tons les objets, comme le soliel, les etoiles, 
 et tons ceux qui sont proche de nos yeux, ne peuvent pas envoyer des 
 espfeces qui soient d'autre nature qu'eux: c'est pourquoi les philosophes 
 disent ordinairement, que ces espbces sont grossieres et materielles, k la 
 difference des espfeces expresses qui sont spiritualisdes. Ces espfeces im- 
 presses des objets sont done de petits coi-ps : elles ne peuvent done pas 
 se penetrer ni tous les espaces qui sont depuis la terre jusqu'au ciel, les- 
 quels en doivent etre tous reniplis. D'ou il est facile de conclure qu' elles 
 devroient se froisser, et se briser, les unes allant d'un c6t6 et les autres 
 de I'autre, si Ton voyoit les objets par leur moyen." (L. III. Pt. II. c. 2, 
 b. i. p. 348.) Hobbes, also, (Human Nature, chap. ii. §4,) makes him- 
 self merry with the Peripatetic visible species ; but when he comes in 
 his turn to explain the act of sight, he proposes an hyjjothesis veiy little 
 more inteEigible. " I have shown," says he, " that no motion is gene- 
 rated but by a body contiguous and moved : from whence it is manifest, 
 that the immediate cause of sense or perception consists in this — that the 
 first organ of sense is touched and pressed. For when the uttermost 
 part of the organ is pressed, it no sooner yields, but the part next within 
 it is pressed also ; and in this manner the pressure or motion is propa- 
 gated through all the parts of the organ, to the innermost. And thus 
 also the pressure of the uttermost part proceeds from the pressure of 
 some more remote body, and so continually, till we come to that from 
 which, as from its fountain, we derive the phantasm or idea that is made 
 in us by our sense. And this, whatsoever it be, is that we commonly 
 call the object. Sense, therefore, is some internal motion in the sentient, 
 generated by some internal motion of the parts of the object, and pro- 
 pagated through all the medium to the innennost part of the organ. By 
 which words I have almost defined what sense is." (Elements of Phi- 
 losophy, Pt. IV. c. XXV. § 2.) Descartes, with great good sense, re- 
 garded the manner by which images are conveyed to the mind as wholly 
 inexplicable. Antoine Le Grand, however, the best expositor of his phi- 
 losophy, has a passage which may be worth introducing here. "Nulla 
 est necessitas tales imagines ad visiones, aut alius sensus explicandos 
 admittendi, cum videamus multa posse in animis nostris affectiones, et 
 commotiones producere, quae cum objectis, quae significant, similitudines 
 non habent : ut cum verba ore pronuntiata, aut papyro mandata strages 
 hominum, urbrum eversiones, anaris procellas i-eprajsentant ; aut amoris 
 odiive effectlis excitant; quae tamen representationes, seu cngitationes 
 nuUam prorsus similitudinem habent, cum illis rebus, quas significant. 
 Deinde explicari nos potest, quomodb tales imagines ab objectis effluere 
 possuit." (Instit. Philosoph. Pt. VIII. art. x. p. 431.) — Ed. 
 
 2e2
 
 420 AX EXAMINATIOX OF 
 
 is yet unintelligible to me in P. M., I shall only take notice 
 of so much of his objections, as concerns what I guess to be 
 the truth. Though I do not think any material species, 
 carrying the resemblance of things by a continual flux from 
 the body we i)erceive, bring the perception of them to our 
 senses; yet I think the perception we have of bodies at a 
 distance from ours may be accounted for, as far as we are 
 capable of understanding it, by the motion of particles of 
 matter coming from them and striking on our organs.* In 
 feeling and tasting there is immediate contact. Sound is 
 not unintelligibly explained by a vibrating motion commu- 
 nicated to the medium, and the elfluviums of odorous bodies 
 will, without any great difficulties, account for smells. And 
 therefore P. M. makes his objections only against visible 
 species, as the most difficult to be explained by material 
 causes, as indeed they are. But he that shall allow extreme 
 smallness in the particles of light, and exceeding swiftness 
 in their motion ; and the great porosity that must be granted 
 in bodies, if we compare gold, which wants them not, with 
 air, the medium wherein the rays of light come to our eyes, 
 and that of a million of rays that rebound from any visible 
 area of any body, perhaps the thousandth or ten thousandth 
 part coming to the eye, are enough to move the retina suffi- 
 ciently to cause a sensation in the mind, will not find any 
 great difficulty in the objections which are orought from the 
 impenetrability of matter; and these rays ruffling and break- 
 ing one another in the medium which is full of them. As 
 to what is said, that from one point we can see a great num- 
 ber of objects, that is no objection against the species, or 
 visible appearances of bodies, being brought into the eye by 
 the rays of light ; for the bottom of the eye or retina, which, 
 in regard of these rays, is the place of vision, is far from 
 being a point. Nor is it true, that, though the eye be in 
 any one place, yet that the sight is performed in one point; 
 i. e., that the rays that bring those visible species do all meet 
 in a pomt; for they cause their distinct sensations, by strik- 
 ing on distinct parts of the retina, as is plain in optics; and 
 * This notion appears to me as completely unfounded, to say the least 
 of it, as that of the Peripatetics ; for if particles of matter may thus 
 travel from the dog- star to us, why may not the image or visible species 
 of the star? I am apt to think that the hostility waged against visible 
 species was founded Oit a misunderstanding. — Ed.
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 421 
 
 the figure they paint thei'e must be of some considerable 
 bigness, since it takes up on the I'etina an area whose diame- 
 ter is at least thirty seconds of a circle, whereof the circum- 
 ference is in the retina, and the centre somewhere in the 
 crystalline, as a little skill in optics will manifest to any one 
 that considers, that few eyes can perceive an object less than 
 thirty minutes of a circle, whereof the eye is the centre. 
 And he that will but reflect on that seeming odd experiment, 
 of seeing only the two outward ones of three bits of paper 
 stuck up against a wall, at about half a foot, or a foot one 
 from another, without seeing the middle one at all, whilst 
 his eye remains fixed in the same posture, must confess that 
 vision is not made in a point, when it is plain, that looking 
 with one eye, there is always one part between the extremes 
 of the area that we see, which is not seen at the same time 
 that we perceive the extremes of it ; though the looking with 
 two eyes, or the quick turning of the axis of the eye to the 
 part we would distinctly view, when we look but with one, 
 does not let us take notice of it. 
 
 10. What I have here said, I think sufficient to make 
 intelligible how by material rays of light, visible species may 
 be brought into the eye, notwithstanding any of P. M.'s ob- 
 jections against so much of material causes as my hypothesis 
 is concerned in. But when by this means an image is made 
 on the retina, how we see it, I conceive no more than when 
 I am told we see it in God. How we see it is, I confess, 
 what I understand not in the one or in the other; only it 
 appears to me more difficult to conceive a distinct visible 
 image in the uniform, unvai'iable essence of God, that in 
 variously modifiable matter ; but the manner how I see either, 
 still escapes my comprehension. Impressions made on the 
 retina by rays of light, I think I understand ; and motions 
 from thence continued to the brain may be conceived, and 
 that these produce ideas in our minds, I am persuaded, but 
 in a manner to me incomprehensible. This I can resolve 
 only into the good pleasure of God, whose ways are past 
 finding out. And, I think, I know it as well when I am 
 told these are ideas that the motion of the animal spirits, 
 by a law established by God, produces in me, as when I am 
 told they are ideas I see in God. The ideas it is certain I 
 have, and God both ways is the original cause of my hav-
 
 422 AX EXAMINATION OF 
 
 ing them ; but the manner how I come by them, how it is 
 that I perceive, I confess I understand not;* though it be 
 plain motion has to do in the producing of them : and motion, 
 so modified, is appointed to be the cause of our having of 
 them; as appears by the curious and artificial structure of 
 the eye, accommodated to all the rules of refraction and di- 
 optrics, that so visible objects might be exactly and regularly 
 painted on the bottom of the eye. 
 
 11. The change of bigness in the ideas of visible objects, 
 by distance and optic-glasses, which is the next argument 
 he uses against visible species, is a good argument against 
 them, as supposed by the Peripatetics, but when considered, 
 wovdd persuade one that we see the figures and magnitudes 
 of things rather in the bottom of our eyes than in God ; the 
 idea we have of them and their grandeur being still pro- 
 portioned to the bigness of the area, on the bottom of our 
 eyes, that is affected by the rays which paint the image 
 there, and we may be said to see the picture in the retina, 
 as, when it is pricked, we are truly said to feel the pain in 
 our finger. 
 
 12. In the next place, where he says, that when we look 
 on a cube " we see all its sides equal." This, I think, is a 
 mistake; and I have in another place shown how the idea 
 we have from a regular solid, is not the true idea of that 
 solid, but such an one as by custom (as the name of it does) 
 serves to excite our judgment to form such an one. 
 
 13. What he says of seeing an object several millions of 
 leagues, the very same instant that it is uncovered, I think 
 may be shown to be a mistake in matter of fact. For by 
 observations made on the satellites of Jupiter, it is discovered 
 that light is successively propagated, and is about ten minutes 
 coming from the sun to us.f 
 
 14. By what I have said, I think it may be understood 
 how we may conceive, that from remote objects material 
 causes may reach our senses, and therein produce several 
 
 * The same caution, forbearance, and good sense, which constitute 
 the characteristics of the Essay on the Human Understanding are visible 
 here, where, in the particular instance before him, Locke accurately 
 marks the limits between the knowable and unknowable. — Ed. 
 
 + Recent experiments, I believe, have rendered it extremely probar 
 ble that light makes its passage from the sun to the earth in seven mi- 
 nutes and a half. — Ed.
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 423 
 
 motions that may be the causes of ideas in us; notwithstand- 
 ing what P. M. has said in this second chapter against ma- 
 terial species. I confess his arguments are good against 
 those species as usually imderstood by the Peripatetics. 
 But, since my principles have been said to be conformable to 
 the Aristotelian philoso})hy, I have endeavoured to remove 
 the difficulties it is charged with, as far as my opinion is 
 concerned in them. 
 
 15. His third chapter is to confute the " opinion of those 
 who think our minds have a power to produce the ideas of 
 things on which they would think, and that they are excited 
 to produce them by the impressions which objects make 
 on the body." One who thinks ideas are nothing but per- 
 ceptions of the mind annexed to certain motions of the 
 body by the will of God, who liath ordered such percep- 
 tions always to accomj^any such motions, though we know 
 not how they are produced, does in effect conceive those 
 ideas or peceptions to be only passions of the mind, when 
 produced in it, whether we will or no, by external ob- 
 jects. But he conceives them to be a mixture of action 
 and passion when the mind attends to them or revives them 
 in the memory. Whether the soul has such a power as this 
 we shall perhaps have occasion to consider hereafter; and 
 this power our author does not deny, since in this very 
 chapter he says, "When we conceive a square by pure un- 
 derstanding, we can yet imagine it ; i. e., perceive it in our- 
 selves by tracing an image of it on the brain." Here, then, 
 he allows the soul power to trace images on the brain, and 
 perceive them. This, to me, is matter of new perplexity in 
 this hyjjothesis; for if the soul be so united to the brain as 
 to trace images on it, and perceive them, I do not see how 
 this consists with what he says a little before in the first 
 chapter, viz., " That certainly material things cannot be 
 united to our souls after a manner necessary to its perceiv- 
 ing them." 
 
 16. That which is said about objects exciting ideas in us 
 by motion ; and our reviving the ideas we have once got in 
 our memories, does not, I confess, fully explain the manner 
 how it is done. In this I frankly avow my ignorance, and 
 should be glad to find in him anything that would clear it 
 to me; but in his explications I find these difficulties which 
 I cannot get over.
 
 424 AX EXAMINATION OP 
 
 17. The mind cannot produce ideas, says he, because they 
 are "real spiritual beings,"* i.e., substances; for so is the 
 conclusion of that jiaragraph, where he mentions it as an 
 absurdity to think they are " annihilated when they are not 
 present to the mind." And the whole force of this argument 
 would persuade one to imderstand him so; though I do not 
 remember that he anywhere speaks it out, or in direct terms 
 calls them substances. 
 
 18. I shall here only take notice how inconceivable it is 
 to me, that a spiritual, i. e., an unextended, substance should 
 represent to the mind an extended figure, v. g., a triangle 
 of unequal sides, or two triangles of difierent magnitudes. 
 Next, supposing I could conceive an unextended substance 
 to represent a figure, or be the idea of a figure, the difficulty 
 still remains to conceive how it is my soul sees it. Let this 
 substantial being be ever so sure, and the picture never so 
 clear; yet how we see it is to me inconceivable. Intimate 
 union, were it as intelligible of two unextended substances, 
 as of two bodies, would not yet reach perception, which is 
 something beyond union. But yet a little lower he agrees, 
 that an idea " is not a substance," but yet affirms it is " a 
 spiritual thing." This spiritual thing, therefore, must either 
 be a spiritual substance, or a mode of a spiritual substance, 
 or a relation; for besides these I have no conception of any ^ 
 thing. And if any shall tell me it is a mode, it must be a 
 mode of the substance of God ; which, besides that it will be 
 strange to mention any modes in the simple essence of God; 
 
 • whosoever shall propose any such modes as a way to explain 
 ,the nature of our ideas, proposes to me something incon- 
 ceivable, as a means to conceive what I do not yet know; 
 and so, bating a new 2:)hrase, teaches me nothing, but leaves 
 me as much in the dark as one can be where he conceives 
 nothing. So that supposing ideas real sj^iritual things never 
 so much, if they are neither substances nor modes, let them 
 be what they will, I am no more instructed in their nature 
 than when I am told they are perceptions, such as I fi.nd 
 them. And I appeal to my reader, whether that hypothesis 
 be to be preferred for its easiness to be understood, which 
 
 * On the nature of ideas, see Plato, on the Parmenides, and Diogenes 
 Laertius, iii. 1. 12; x. 1. 20. Aristotle appears to have thought that 
 the whole doctrine of ideas arose from the misemployment of poetical 
 metaphors. (Metaphys. xii. 5.) — Ed.
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 425 
 
 is explained by real beings, that are neither substances nor 
 modes. 
 
 19. In the fourth chapter he proves, that we do not see 
 objects by ideas that are created with us; because the ideas 
 we have even of one very simple figure, v. g., a triangle, are 
 not infinite, though there may be infinite triangles. What 
 this proves I will not here examine; but the reason he gives 
 being built on his hypotheses, I cannot get over, and that is, 
 that " it is not for want of ideas, or that infinite is not present 
 to us, but it is only for want of capacity and extension of our 
 souls, because the extension of our spirits is very narrow and 
 limited." To have a limited extension, is to have some ex- 
 tension, which agrees but ill with what is before said of our 
 souls, that they "have no extension." By what he says 
 here and in other places, one would think he wei'e to be 
 understood as if the soul, being but a small extension, could 
 not at once receive all the ideas conceivable in infinite space, 
 because but a little part of that infinite space can be applied 
 to the soul at once. To conceive thus of the soul's intimate 
 union with an infinite being, and by that union receiving of 
 ideas, leads one as naturally into as gross thoughts, as a 
 country maid would have of an infinite butter-print, in which 
 was engraven figures of all sorts and sizes, the several parts 
 whereof being, as there was occasion, applied to her lump of 
 butter, left on it the figure or idea there was present need 
 of. But whether any one would thus explain our ideas I 
 will not say, only I know not well how to understand what 
 he says here, with what he says before of union in a better 
 sense. 
 
 20. He further says, that had we a magazine of all ideas 
 that are necessary for seeing things, they would be of no use, 
 since the mind could not know which to choose, and set 
 before itself to see the sun. What he here means by the 
 sun is hard to conceive ; and, according to his hypothesis of 
 Seeing all Things in God, how can he know that there is any 
 Buch real being in the world as the sun ] Did he ever see 
 the sun] No; but on occasion of the presence of the sun to 
 his eyes, he has seen the idea of the sun in God, which God 
 has exhibited to him; but the sun, because it cannot be 
 united to his soid, he cannot see. How then does he know 
 that thei"e is a sun which he never saw? And since God
 
 426 AN EXAMIXATTON OF 
 
 does all things by the most compendious ways, what need is 
 there th.at God should make a suu that we might see its idea 
 in him when he pleased to exhibit it, when this might as 
 well be done without any real sun at all.* 
 
 21. He further says, that God does not actually produce 
 in us as many new ideas as we every moment perceive 
 different things. Whether he has proved this or no, I will 
 not examine. 
 
 22. But he says, that " we have at all times actually in 
 ourselves the ideas of all things." Then we have always 
 actually in ourselves the ideas of all triangles, which was but 
 tiow denied, " but we have them confusedly." If we see 
 them in God, and they are not in him confusedly, I do not 
 understand how we can see them in God confusedly. 
 
 23. In the fifth chapter he tells us, "all things are in 
 God, even the most corpox'eal and earthly, but after a manner 
 altogether spiritual, and which we cannot comprehend." 
 Hei'e, therefore, he and I are alike ignorant of these good 
 words ; " material things are in God after a spiritual manner," 
 signify nothing to either of us ; and " spiritual manner" 
 signifies no more but this, that material things are in God 
 immaterially. This and the like are ways of speaking which 
 our vanity has found out to cover, not remove, our ignorance. 
 But " material things ai-e in God," because " their ideas are 
 in God, and those ideas which God had of them before the 
 world was created, are not at all difierent from himself." 
 This seems to me to come very near saying, not only that 
 there is variety in God, since we see variety in what " is not 
 different from himself," but that material things are God, or 
 
 * This doctrine Berkeley maintained in good earnest ; as also did 
 honest Arthur Collier, who, whether he had met with the works of 
 Berkeley or not, had completely imbibed his spirit of philosophising. 
 The following is the manner in which he blots the sun and moon out of 
 the external universe, and reduces them to creatures of the imagination. 
 "Let a man," says he, "whilst he looks upon any object, as suppose 
 the moon, press or distort one of his eyes with his finger. This done, he 
 will perceive or see two moons, at some distance from each other ; one, 
 as it were, proceeding or sliding off from the other. Now both these 
 moons are equally external, or seen by us as external ; and yet one at least 
 of these is not external, there being but one moon supposed to be in the 
 Leavens, or without us. Therefore an object is seen by us as external, 
 which is not indeed external, which is again the thing to be shown." 
 (Clavus Universalis, p. 17.)
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 427 
 
 a part of him;* which, though I do not think to be what 
 our author designs; yet thus I fear he must be forced to 
 talk, who thinks he knows God's understanding so much 
 better than his own, that he will make use of the divine 
 intellect to explain the human. 
 
 24. In the sixth chapter he comes more particularly to 
 explain his own doctrine, where first he says, " the ideas of 
 all beings are in God." Let it be so, God has the idea of a 
 triangle, of a horse, of a river, just as we have; for hitherto 
 this signifies no more, for we see them as they are in him ; 
 and so the ideas that are in him, are the ideas we perceive : 
 Thus far I then understand God hath the same ideas we 
 have. This tells us, indeed, that there are ideas, which was 
 agreed before, and I think nobody denies, but tells me not 
 yet what they are. 
 
 25. Having said that they are in God, the next thing he 
 tells us is, that we " can see them in God." His proof, that 
 " oui' souls can see them in God," is, because God is most 
 straitly united to our souls by his presence, insomuch, that 
 one may say, God is the place of spirits, as spaces are the 
 places of bodies;" in which there is not, I confess, one word 
 that I can understand.t For, fii'st, in what sense can he 
 
 * Locke's charity here induces him to put an interpretation on Male- 
 branche's theory, which, upon examination, may perhaps be found to be 
 somewhat too lenient. Whatever he may have intended, he taught 
 Pantheism : piously, no doubt, but not the less certainly. 
 
 t This talking about the place of spirits is nothing but a fragment of 
 the ancient jargon of the schools; and probably means nothing more 
 than that all existence being upheld by God, must necessarily be sur- 
 rounded by the power of God, or be comprehended \vithin his sphere. 
 But then it will inevitably follow that God is as much the place of bodies 
 as of spirits, since both equally derive their existence from him. The 
 original passages, which the reader may desire to compare with Locke's 
 translation, are as follows: — " II faut s§avoir que Dieu est tres-etroite- 
 ment mie k nos ames par sa presence, ensorte qu'on pent dire qu'il est le 
 lieu des esprits, de meme que les espaces sont le lieu des corps." (L. III. 
 pt. 2, chap. vii. t. i. p. 363.) In the next place where this doctrine is 
 asserted, Malebranche adds, that God is the intelligible ivwld: " Demeu- 
 rons done dans ce sentiment, que Dieu est le monde intelligible, ou le 
 lieu des esprits, de meme que le monde materiel est le lieu des corps. 
 (p. 372.) Here, as the reader will perceive, there is a prodigious con- 
 fusion of ideas. First, God is the intelligible world ; which means, if it 
 mean anything, that God is alone intelligible, or that everything which 
 is intelligible forms a part of God ; which, when thoroughly sifted, is the 
 real doctrine of Malebranche, and can by no degree of ingenuity be dis-
 
 428 AN EXAMINATION OF 
 
 say that " spaces are the places of bodies," "when he makes 
 body and space, or extension, to be the same thing 1 So 
 that I do no more understand what he means, when he says 
 " spaces are the places of bodies," than if he had said, bodies 
 are the places of bodies. But when this simile is apj^lied to 
 God and spirits, it makes this saying, that " God is the place 
 of spirits," either to be merely metaphorical, and so signifies 
 literally nothing; or else, being literal, makes us conceive 
 tliat spirits move up and down, and have their distances and 
 intervals in God, as bodies have in space. When I am told 
 in which of these senses he is to be understood, I shall be 
 able to see how far it heljjs us to understand the nature of 
 ideas. But is not God as straitly united to bodies as to 
 spirits 1 For he is also present, even where they are, but 
 yet they see not these ideas in him. He therefore adds, 
 " that the soul can see in God the works of God, supposing 
 God would discover to it what there is in him to represent 
 them," viz., the ideas that are in him. Union, therefore, is 
 not the cause of this seeing ; for the soul may be united to 
 God, and yet not see the ideas are in him, till he discover 
 them to it; so that after all I am but where I was. I 
 have ideas, that I know; but I would know what they are, 
 and to that I am yet only told, that / see them in God. I 
 ask, how / see them in God? And it is answered, by my 
 intimate union with God, for he is everywhere present. I 
 answer, if that were enough, bodies are also intimately united 
 with God, for he is everywhex-e present; besides, if that 
 were enough, I should see all the ideas that are in God. 
 No, but only those that he pleases to discover. Tell me 
 wherein this discovery lies, besides barely making me see 
 them, and you explain the manner of my having ideas: 
 otherwise, all that has been said amounts to no more but 
 this, that I have those ideas that it pleases God I should 
 have, but by ways that I know not ; and of this mind I was 
 before, and am not got one jot farther. 
 
 tinguished from Pantheism. Again, the material world is the place of 
 bodies : but it is these bodies that constitute the material world ; and if 
 we must make use of the scholastic jargon, at all, we ought to say that 
 space is the place of the material world, otherwise we affirm that a thing 
 is its own place, which it requires all the politeness of Locke to deno- 
 minate anything but nonsense.
 
 r. malebranche's opinion. 429 
 
 26. Ill tlie next paragraph he calls them " beings, repre- 
 sentative beings." But whether these beings are substances, 
 modes, or relations, I am not told; and so by being told 
 they are spiritual beings, I know no more but that they are 
 something, I know not what, and that I knew before. 
 
 27. To explain this matter a little further, he adds : " It 
 must be observed, that it cannot be concluded that souls see 
 the essence of God in that they see all things in God; be- 
 cause what they see is very imperfect, and God is very per- 
 fect. They see matter divisible, figured, &c., and in God 
 there is nothing divisible and figured : for God is all being, 
 because he is infinite and comprehends all things; but he is 
 not any being in particular. Whereas what we see is but 
 some one or more beings in particular; and we do not at all 
 comprehend that perfect simplicity of God which contains 
 all beings. Moreover, one may say, that we do not so much 
 see the ideas of things as the things themselves, which the 
 ideas represent. For when, for example, one sees a square, 
 one says not that one sees the idea of a square which is 
 united to the soul, but only the square that is without." I 
 do not pretend not to be short-sighted; but if I am not 
 duller than ordinary, this paragraph shows that P.M. him- 
 self is at a stand in this matter, and comprehends not what 
 it is wee in God, or how. In the fourth chapter he says, in 
 express words, that " it is necessary that at all times we 
 should have actually in ourselves the ideas of all things."* 
 And in this very chapter, a little lower, he says, that "all 
 beings are present to our minds," and that we have " general 
 ideas antecedent to particular." And in the eighth chapter, 
 that we are never without the *' general idea of being;" and 
 yet here he says, " that which we see is but one or more 
 beings in particular." And after having taken a great deal 
 
 * This strange hypothesis is thus stated by Malebranche : — "II est 
 necessaire qu'en tout terns nous ayons actuellement dans nous memes 
 les id^es de toutes choses, puisqu'en tout terns nous pouvons penser h 
 toutes choses : ce que nous ne pourrions pas, si nous ne les appercevions 
 d^ja confus^ment, o'est k-dire si un nombre infini d'id^es n'^toit 
 present a notre esprit." (L. III. pt. 2, chap. iv. t. i. p. 357.) To this 
 notion he again alludes in chap. vi. p. 366, where he says : "II est con- 
 stant, et tout le monde le sgait par exp($rience, que lors que nous voulons 
 penser k quelque chose en particulier, nous envisageons d'abourd tous 
 les 6tre, et nous nous appliquons ensuite k la consideration de I'objet
 
 430 AN EXAMINATION OP 
 
 of pains to prove, that " we cannot possibly see things them- 
 selves, but only ideas," here he tells us " we do not so much 
 see the ideas of things as the things themselves." In this 
 uncertainty of the author what it is we see, I am to be ex- 
 cused if my eyes see not more clearly in his hypothesis than 
 he himself does. 
 
 28. He fui-ther tells us in this sixth chapter, that " we 
 see all beings, because God wills that that which is in him 
 that represents them should be discovered to us." This tells 
 us only, that there are ideas of things in God, and that we 
 see them when he pleases to discover them; but what does 
 this show us more of the nature of those ideas, or of the 
 discovery of them, wherein that consists, than he that says, 
 without pretending to know what they are, or how they are 
 made, that ideas are in our minds when God pleases to pro- 
 duce them there, by such motions as he has appointed to do 
 if? The next argument for oiir" Seeing all things in God," 
 is in these words : " But the strongest of all the reasons is the 
 manner in which the mind perceives all things. It is 
 evident, and all the world knows it by experience, that 
 when we would think of anything in p&rticular, we at fii'st 
 cast our view upon all beings, and afterwards we ajjply our- 
 selves to the consideration of the object which we desire to 
 think on." This argument has no other effect on me, but to 
 make me doubt the more of the truth of this doctrine. 
 Fii-st, Because this, which he calls the strongest reason of all, 
 is built upon matter of fact, which I connot find to be so in. 
 myself. I do not observe, that when I would think of a 
 triangle I first think of all beings; whether these words all 
 beings be to be taken hei'e in their proper sense, or very im- 
 properly for being in general. Nor do I think my country 
 neighbours do so, when they first wake in the morning, who, 
 I imagine, do not find it impossible to think of a lame horse 
 
 que nous souh.aitons de voir." It would not be easy to exceed the cool 
 hardihood of this assertion, though the object of Malebranche in making 
 it is perfectly intelligible ; for since he maintains that the substance of 
 God is intimately united with our souls ; and since the ideas, or arche- 
 types of all things, past, present, and to come, are unquestionably in 
 God, it follows as a necessary consequence of his theory, that, as the 
 mind of God is open to our contemplation, like an infinite mirror, we 
 must be able to perceive, however dimly and obscurely, whatever 
 images, so to speak, are painted tiiere.
 
 p. malebranche's opiniox. 431 
 
 they have, or theii- blighted com, till they have run over iu 
 their niiucls cdl beings that are, and then pitch on Da})i)le; 
 or else begin to think of being in general, which is being 
 abstracted from all its inferior species, before they come to 
 think of the fly in their sheep, or the tares in their corn. 
 For I am apt to think that the greatest part of mankind 
 very seldom, if ever at all, think of being in general, i.e., 
 abstracted from all its inferior species and individuals. But 
 taking it to be so, that a carrier when he would think of a 
 remedy for his galled horse, or a foot])oy for an excuse for 
 some fault he has committed, begins with casting his eye 
 upon all tilings;* how does this make out the conclusion] 
 Therefore "we can desii'e to .see all objects, whence it follows, 
 that all beings are present to our minds." Which presence 
 signifies that we see them, or else it signifies nothing at all. 
 They are all actually always seen by us ; which, how true, 
 let every one judge, 
 
 29, The words wherein he pursues this argument stand 
 thus : " Now it is indubitable that we cannot desire to see 
 any particular object without seeing it already, although 
 confusedly, and in general. So that being able to desire to 
 see all beings, sometimes one, sometimes another, it is certain 
 that all beings are present to our spirits ; and it seems all 
 beings could not be present to our spirits but because God 
 is present to them, i. e., he that contains all things in the 
 simplicity of his being," I must leave it to others to jvidge 
 how far it is blamable in me, but so it is, that I cannot 
 make to myself the links of this chain to hang together ; 
 and methinks if a man woidd have studied obscurity, he 
 could not have writ more unintelligible than this. " We can 
 desire to see all beings, sometimes one, sometimes another ; 
 therefore we do already see all things, because we cannot 
 desire to see any particular object, but what we see already 
 confusedly and in general," The discourse here is about 
 ideas, which he says are real things, and we see in God. In 
 taking this along with me, to make it prove anything to his 
 purpose, the argument must, as it seems to me, stand thus : 
 We can desire to have all ideas, sometimes one, sometimes 
 
 ' This humorous way of illustrating the philosophy of Malebranche 
 though it may not be thought a sufficient refutation, helps nevertheless 
 to show its absurdity.
 
 432 AN EXAMINATION OP 
 
 another; therefore we have ah-eady all ideas, because we 
 cannot desire to have any particular idea, but what we have 
 already confusedly and in general. What can be meant here 
 by having any 'particular idea confusedly and in general, I 
 confess I cannot conceive, unless it be a capacity in us to 
 have them; and in that sense the whole argument amounts 
 to no more but this : We have all ideas, because we are 
 capable of having all ideas, and so proves not at all that 
 we actually have them, by being united to God, who con- 
 tains them all in the simplicity of his being. That anything 
 else is, or can be meant by it, I do not see; for that which 
 we desire to see, being nothing but what we see already, (for 
 if it can be anything else, the argument falls, and proves 
 nothing,) and that which we desire to see being, as we are 
 told here, something particular, sometimes one thing, some~ 
 times another; that which we do see must be particular too; 
 but how to see a particular thing in general, is past my com- 
 prehension. I cannot conceive how a blind man has the 
 particular idea of scarlet confusedly or in general, when he 
 has it not at all ; and yet that he might desire to have it I 
 cannot doubt, no moi-e than I doubt that I can desire to per- 
 ceive, or to have the ideas of those things that God has 
 prepared for those that love liim, though they be such as eye 
 hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, nor hath it entered into the 
 heart of man to conceive, such as I have yet no idea of. 
 He who desires to know what creatures are in Jupiter, or 
 what God hath prepared for them that love him, hath, it is 
 true, a supposition that there is something in Jupiter, or in 
 the place of the blessed ; but if that be to have the par- 
 ticular ideas of things there, enough to say that we see them 
 already, nobody can be ignorant of anything. He that hath 
 seen one thing hath seen all things; for he has got the 
 general idea of something. But this is not, I confess, 
 sufficient to convince me, that hereby we see all things in 
 tJie simplicity of God's heiiig, which comprehends all things. 
 For if the ideas I see are all, as our author tells us, i-eal 
 beings in him, it is plain they must be so many real distinct 
 beings in him; and if we see them in him, we must see 
 them as they are, distinct particular things, and so shall not 
 see them confusedly and in general. And what is it to see 
 any idea (to which I do not give a name) confusedly, is what
 
 p. malebranche's opinion, 433 
 
 I do not well understand. What I see, T see, and the idea 
 I see is distinct from all others that are not the same with 
 it: besides, I see them as they are in God, and as he shows 
 them me. Are they in God confusedly — or does he show 
 them to me confuscclly'? 
 
 30. Secondly, This seeing of all things, because we can de- 
 sire to see all things, he makes a proof that the^/ are present 
 to our minds; and if they be present, tlvey can no ivays he 
 present hut hy tlie presence of God, ivJio contains them in all 
 the si^nplicity of his heing. This reasoning seems to be 
 founded on this, that the reason of seeing all things is their 
 being jjresent to our minds; because God, in whom they are, 
 is present. This, though the foundation he seems to build 
 on, is liable to a very natural objection, which is, that then 
 we should actually always see all things, because in God, who 
 is present, they are all actually present to the mind. This 
 he has endeavoured to obviate, by saying we see all the ideas 
 in God which he is pleased to discover to tis; which indeed is 
 an answer to this objection; but such an one as overturns 
 his whole hypothesis, and rendex's it useless and as unintelli- 
 gible as any of those he has for that reason laid aside. He 
 pretends to explain to us how we come to perceive anythmg, 
 and that is, by having the ideas of them present in our 
 minds; for the soul cannot perceive things at a distance, or 
 remote from it ; and those ideas are present to the mind only 
 because God, in whom they are, is present to the mind. This 
 so far hangs together, and is of a piece; but when after this 
 I am told, that their presence is not enough to make them 
 be seen, but God must do something further to discover them 
 to me, I am as much in the dark as I was at first; and all 
 this talk of their presence in my mind explains nothing of 
 the way wherein I perceive them, nor ever will, till he also 
 makes me understand what God does more than make them 
 present to my mind, when he discovers them to me. For I 
 think nobody denies, I am sure I affirm, that the ideas we 
 have, are in our minds by the will and power of God, though 
 in a way that we conceive not, nor are able to comprehend. 
 God, says our author, is strictly united to the soul, and so 
 the ideas of things too. But yet that j)resence or union of 
 theirs is not enough to make them seen, but God miist show 
 or exhibit them; and what does God do more than make 
 
 VOIi. II. 2 F
 
 434 AN EXAMINATION OF 
 
 them present to the mind when he shows them? Of that 
 there is nothing said to help me over this difficulty, but that 
 when God shows them, we see them; which, in short, seems 
 to me to say only thus much, that when we have these ideas 
 we have them, and we owe the having of them to our Maker, 
 which is to say no more than I do with my ignorance. We 
 have the ideas of figures and colours by the operation of 
 exterior objects on our senses, when the sun shows them us; 
 but how the sun shows them us, or how the light of the sun 
 produces them in us ; what, and how the alteration is made 
 in oui- souls, I know not, nor does it appear, by anything our 
 author says, that he knows any more what God does when 
 he shows them us, or what it is that is done upon our minds, 
 since the presence of them to our minds, he confesses, does 
 it not. 
 
 31. TTiix'dly, One thing more is incomprehensible to me in 
 this matter, and that is how the simplicity of God's being 
 should contain in it a variety of real beings, so that the soul 
 can discern them in him distmctly one from another; it 
 being said in the fifth chapter, that the ideas in God are not 
 different from God himself. This seems to me to express a 
 simplicity made up of variety, a thing I cannot understand. 
 God I believe to be a simple being, that by his wisdom knovrs 
 all things, and by his power can do all things ; but how he 
 does it I think myself less able to comprehend, than to con- 
 tain the ocean in my hand, or gi-asp the universe with my 
 span. Ideas are real beings, you say ; if so, it is evident they 
 must be distinct real beings; for there is nothing more cei'- 
 tain than that there are distinct ideas; and they are in God, 
 in whom we see them. There they are, then, actually dis- 
 tinct, or else we could not see them distinct in him. Now 
 these distinct real beings that are in God, are they either 
 parts or modifications of the Deity, or comprehended in him 
 as things in a place? For besides these three, I think we 
 can scarce think of another way wherein we can conceive 
 them to be in him, so that we can see them. For to say 
 they are in him eminenter, is to say they are not in him 
 actually and really to be seen; but only if they are in him 
 eminenter, and we see them only in him, we can be said to 
 see them only eminenter too. So that though it cannot be 
 denied that (xod sees and knows all things, yet when we say
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 43.3 
 
 we see all things in him, it is but a metaphorical expression 
 to cover oiir ignorance, in a way that pretends to explain our 
 knowledge; seeing things in God signifying no more than 
 that we perceive them we know not how. 
 
 32. He further adds, that he " does not believe that one 
 can well give an account of the manner wherein the mind 
 knows many abstract and general truths, biit by the pre- 
 sence of him who can enlighten the mind after a thousand 
 different fashions." It is not to be denied that God can 
 enlighten our minds after a thousand different fashions ; and 
 it cannot also be denied that those thousand different fashions 
 may be such as we comprehend not one of them. The ques- 
 tion is, whether this talk of seeing all things in God does 
 make us clearly, or at all, comprehend one of them ; if it 
 did so to me I should gratefully acknowledge that then I 
 was ignorant of nine hundi-ed and ninety-nine of the thou- 
 sand, whereas I must yet confess myself ignorant of them all. 
 
 33. The next paragraph, if it prove anything, seems to 
 me to prove that the idea we have of God is God himself, it 
 being something, as he says, uncreated. The id^as that men 
 have of God are so very different, that it would be veiy hard 
 to say it was God himself Nor does it avail to say they 
 would all have the same, if they would apply their minds to 
 the contemplation of him; for this being brought here to 
 prove that God is present in all men's minds, and that there- 
 fore they see him, it must also, in my apprehension, prove 
 that he being immutably the same, and they seeing him, 
 must needs see him all alike. 
 
 34. In the next section we are told that we have '' not 
 only the idea of infinite, but before that of finite." This 
 being a thing of experience everyone must examine himself; 
 and it being my misfortune to find it otherwise in myself, 
 this argument, of course, is like to have the less effect on 
 me, who therefore cannot so easily admit the inference, viz., 
 " Thus the mind j)erceives not one thing, but in the idea it 
 has of infinite." And I cannot but believe many a child can 
 tell twenty, have the idea of a square trencher, or a round 
 plate, and have the distinct clear ideas of two and three, 
 long before he has any idea of ivfinite at all. 
 
 35. The last argument which he tells us is a demonstration 
 that we see all things in God, is this : " God has made all 
 
 2 f2
 
 436 AN EXAMINATION OP 
 
 things for liimself ; but if God made a spirit or mind, and 
 gave it the sun for its idea, or the immediate object of its 
 knowledge, God would have made that spirit or mind for the 
 sun, and not for himself" The natural inference from this 
 argument seems to me to be this : therefore God has given 
 himself for the idea, or immediate object of the knowledge 
 of all human minds. But experience too manifestly con- 
 tradicting this, our author hath made another conclusion, 
 and says thus: "It is necessary, then, that the light which 
 he gives the mind, should make us know something that is 
 in him;" v. g., because " all things that come from God can- 
 not be but for God." Therefore a covetous man sees in God 
 the money, and a Persian the sun that he worships ; and thus 
 God is the immediate object of the mind, both of the one and 
 the other. I confess this demonstration is lost on me, and I 
 cannot see the force of it. All things, it is true, are made 
 for God, i. e., for his glory ; and he will be glorified even by 
 those rational beings who would not apply theii" faculties to 
 the knowledge of him. 
 
 36, .But the next paragraph explains this : " God could 
 not then make a soul for to know his works, were it not that 
 that soul sees God after a fashion in seeing his works;" just 
 after such a fashion that if he never saw more of him he 
 would never know anytliing of a God, nor believe there was 
 any such being. A child, as soon as he is born, sees a can- 
 dle, or before he can speak, the ball he plays with ; these he 
 sees hi God, whom he has yet no notion of Whether this be 
 enough to make us say that the mind is made for God, and 
 this be the proof of it, other people must judge for them- 
 selves. T must own, that if this were the knowledge of God, 
 which intelligent beings were made for, I do not see but they 
 might be made for the knowledge of God without knowing 
 anything of him ; and those that deny him were made for 
 the knowledge of him. Therefore I am not convinced of the 
 truth of what follows, that "we do not see any one thing 
 but by the natural knowledge which we have of God." 
 Which seems to me a quite contrary way of arguing to what 
 the apostle uses, where he says, that " the invisible things of 
 God are seen by the visible tilings that he has made." For it 
 seems to me a quite contrary way of ar'guing, to say, we see 
 the Creator in or by the creatures, and we see the creatiu-es
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 437 
 
 in the Creator. The apostle begins our knowledge in the 
 ci'eatures, which leads us to the knowledge of God, if we will 
 make use of oiir reason: our author begins our knowledge in 
 God, and by that leads us to the creatures. 
 
 37. But to confirm his argument he says : "All the parti- 
 cular ideas we have of the creatm*es ai'e but limitations of 
 the idea of the Creator." As for example, I have the idea 
 of the solidity of matter, and of the motion of body, what 
 is the idea of God that either of these limits? And when I 
 think of the nvimber ten, I do not see how that any way 
 coiicerns or limits the idea of God, 
 
 38. The distinction he makes a little lower between senti- 
 ment and idea, does not at all clear to me, but cloud his doc- 
 trine. His words are : " It must be observed that I do not 
 say that we have the sentiment of material things in God, 
 but that it is from God that acts in us ; for God knows sen- 
 sible things, but feels them not. When we perceive any 
 sensible thing, there is in our pei'ceptiou sentiment and -pwce 
 idea." If by sentiment, which is the word he uses in French, 
 he means the act of sensation, or the operation of the soul 
 in perceiving; and by ^^?tre idea, the immediate object of 
 that perception, which is the definition of ideas he gives us 
 here in the first chapter, there is some foundation for it, 
 taking ideas for real beings or substances. But taken thus, 
 I cannot see how it can be avoided, but that we must be said 
 to smell a rose in God, as well as to see a rose in God ; and 
 the scent of the rose that we smell, as well as the colour and 
 figure of the rose that we see, must be in God; which seems 
 not to be his sense here, and does not well agree with what 
 he says concerning the ideas we see in God, which I shall 
 consider in its due place. If by sentiment here he means 
 something that is neither the act of perception nor the idea 
 perceived, I confess I know not what it is, nor have any con- 
 ception at all of it. When we see and smell a violet, we 
 perceive the figure, colour, and scent of that flower. Here I 
 cannot but ask whether all these three are ^j?ire ideas, or all 
 sentiments 1 If they are all ideas, then, according to his doc- 
 trine, they are all in God ; and then it will follow that, as I 
 see the figui-e of the violet in God, so also I see the colour of 
 it, and smell the scent of it in God, which way of speaking 
 he does not allow, nor can I blame him. For it shows a
 
 438 AN EXAMINATION OF 
 
 little too plainly the absurdity of that doctrine, if he should 
 say we smell a violet, taste wormwood, or feel cold in God, 
 and yet I can find no reason why the action of one of our 
 senses is applied only to God, when we use them all as well 
 as om' eyes in receiving ideas. If the figure, colour, and 
 smell are all of them sentiments, then they are none of them 
 in God, and so this whole business of seeing in God is ovit of 
 doors. If (as, by what he says in his Eclai/rcissetnents, it 
 appears to me to be his meaning) the figvire of the violet be 
 to be taken for an idea, but its colour and smell for sentiments, 
 I confess it puzzles me to know by what rule it is that in a 
 violet the purple colour, whereof whilst I write this I seem 
 to have as clear an idea in my mind as of its figure, is not as 
 much an idea as the figure of it ; especially, since he tells me 
 in the first chapter here, which is concerning the nature of 
 ideas, that by this word idea he understands here nothing 
 else but what is the immediate or nearest object of the mind 
 when it perceives anything. 
 
 39. The " sentiment," says he, in the next words, "is a 
 modification of oiir soul." This word modification here, that 
 comes in for explication, seems to me to signify nothing 
 more than the word to be explained by it; v. g., I see the 
 pm'ple colour of a violet ; this, says he, is a sentiment : I de- 
 sire to know what sentiment is; that, says he, is a modifica- 
 tion of the soul. I take the word, and desire to see what I 
 can conceive by it concerning my soul ; and here, I confess, I 
 can conceive nothing more, but that I have the idea of purple 
 • in my mind, which I had not before, without being able to 
 apprehend anything the mind does or sufiers in this, besides 
 barely having the idea of purple; and so the good word 
 modifi/cation signifies nothing to me more than I knew before ; 
 V. g., that I have now the idea of pui'ple in it, which I had 
 not some minutes since. So that though they say sensations 
 are modifications of the mind; yet, having no manner of' 
 idea what that modification of the mind is, distinct from 
 that very sensation, v. g., the sensation of a red colour or a 
 bitter taste, it is plain this explication amounts to no more 
 than that a sensation is a sensation, and the sensation of red 
 or bitter is the sensation of red or hitter; for if I have no 
 other idea when I say it is a modification of the mind than 
 when I say it is the sensation of red or hitter, it is plain sen-
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 439 
 
 sation and modification stand both for the same idea, and so 
 are but two names of one and the same thing. But to exa- 
 mine their doctrine of modification a little further. Different 
 sentiments are different modifications of the mind. The mind 
 or soul that pex'ceives is one immaterial indivisible substance. 
 Now I see the white and black on this paper, I hear one 
 singing in the next room, I feel the warmth of the fire I sit 
 by, and I taste an apple I am eating, and all this at the same 
 time. Now I ask, take modification for what you please, can 
 the same unextended indivisible substance have diffei-ent, 
 nay, inconsistent and opposite (as these of white and black 
 must be) modifications at the same timel Or must we sup- 
 pose distinct pai'ts in an indivisible substance, one for black, 
 another for white, and another for red ideas, and so of the 
 rest of those infinite sensations which we have in sorts and 
 degrees; all which we can distinctly perceive, and so are 
 distinct ideas, some whei-eof are opposite, as heat and cold, 
 which yet a man may feel at the same time? I was ignorant 
 before how sensation was performed in us; this they call an 
 explanation of it. Must I say now I understand it better? 
 If this be to cure one's ignoi-ance, it is a very slight disease, 
 and the charm of two or three insignificant words will at any 
 time remove it, j^fobatum est. But let it signify what it will, 
 when I recollect the figure of one of the leaves of a violet, 
 is not that a new modification of my soul, as well as when I 
 think of its purple colour? Does my mind do or suffer no- 
 thing anew when I see that figure in God? 
 
 40. The idea of that figure, you say, is in God. Let it be 
 so; but it may be there and I not see it; that is allowed; 
 when I come to see it, which I did not before, is there no 
 new modification, as you call it, of my mind? If there be, 
 then, seeing of figure in God, as well as having the idea of 
 ])urple, is a modification of the mind, and this distinction 
 signifies nothing. If seeing that figure in God now, which a 
 minute or two since I did not see at all, be no new modifica- 
 tion or alteration in my mind, no different action or passion 
 from what was before, there is no difference made, in my 
 apprehension, between seeing and not seeing. The ideas of 
 figures, our author says, are in God, and are real beingts in 
 God ; and God being united to the mind, these are also 
 united to it. This all seems to me to have something ve-ry
 
 440 AN EXAMINATION OF 
 
 obscui-e and unconceivable in it, when I come to examine 
 particulars; but let it be granted to be as clear as any one 
 would suppose it, yet it reaches not the main difficulty, which 
 is in seeing. How, after all, do I see? The ideas are iu 
 God, they are real things, they are intimately luiited to my 
 mind, because God is so, but yet I do not see them. How 
 at last, after all this preparation, which hitherto is ineffectual, 
 do I come to see them 1 And to that I am told, " when God 
 is pleased to discover them to me." This in good earnest 
 seems to me to be nothing but going a great way about to 
 come to the same place j and this learned circuit, thus set 
 out, brings me at last no further than this : that I see, or 
 perceive, or have ideas, when it pleases God I should, but in 
 a way I cannot comprehend; and this I thought without all 
 this ado. 
 
 41. This sentiment, he tells us in the next words, "it is 
 God causes in us, and he can cause it in us although he has 
 it not, because he sees in the idea that he has of oiu* soid that 
 it is capable of them." This I take to be said to show the 
 difference between sentiinents and idects in us : v. g., figures 
 and numbers are ideas, and they are in God. Colours and 
 smdls, &c., are sentiments in us, and not ideas in God. First, 
 As to ourselves, I ask, why, when I recollect in my memory a 
 violet, the purple colour as well as figure is not an idea in 
 me? The making, then, the picture of any visible thing in 
 my mind, as of a landscape I have seen, composed of figure 
 and coloui', the colour is not an idea, but the figure is an 
 idea, and the colour a sentiment. Eveiy one, I allow, may 
 use his words as he pleases; but if it be to instruct others, 
 he must, when he uses two words where others use but one, 
 show some ground of the distinction. And I do not find 
 but the colour of the marigold I now think of is as much tJie 
 immediate object of my mind as its figure ; and so, according 
 to his definition, is an idea. Next, as to God, I ask whether 
 before the creation of the world the idea of the whole 
 marigold, colour as well as figure, was not in God? "God," 
 says he, " can cause those sentiments iu us, because he 
 sees, in the idea that he has of our soul, that it is capable 
 of them." God, before he created any soul, knew all that 
 he would make it capable of. He resolved to make it 
 capable of having the perception of the colour as well
 
 M. M^OiEBRANCHE's OPTION. 441 
 
 as figure of a marigold; he had then the idea of that 
 colour that he resolved to make it capable of, or else he 
 made it capable (with reverence let it be spoken) of he 
 knew not what : and if he knew what it should be 
 capable of, he had the idea of what he knew ; for before the 
 creation there was nothing but God, and the ideas lie had. 
 It is true the colour of that flower is not actually in God, 
 no more is its figiire actually in God ; but we that can 
 consider no other understanding, but in analogy to our own, 
 cannot conceive otherwise but as the ideas of the figure, 
 colour, and situation of the leaves of a marigold is in our 
 minds, when we think of that flower in the night when we 
 see it not; so it was in the thoughts of God before he made 
 that flower. And thus we conceive him to have the idea of 
 the smell of a violet, of the taste of sugar, the sound of a 
 lute or trumpet, and of the pain and pleasure that accom- 
 panies any of these or other sensiations which he designed 
 ■we should feel, though he never felt any of them, as we have 
 the ideas of the taste of a cherry in winter, or of the 
 pain of a burn when it is over. This is what I think 
 we conceive of the ideas in God, which we must allow 
 to have distinctly represented to him all that was to be 
 in time, and consequently the colours, odours, and other 
 ideas they were to produce in us. I cannot be so bold 
 as to pretend to say what those ideas are in God, or to 
 determine that they are real beings ; but this I think I 
 may say, that the idea of the colour of a marigold or the 
 motion of a stone are as much real beings in God as the idea 
 of the figure or number of its leaves. 
 
 42. The reader must not blame me for making use here 
 all along of the word sentiment, which is our author's own, 
 and I understood it so little, that I knew not how to trans^ 
 late it into any other. He concludes, "that he believes 
 there is no appearance of truth in any other ways of explain- 
 ing these things, and that this of seeing all things in God is 
 more than probable." I have considered, with as much in- 
 difierency and attention as possible, and I must own it 
 appears to me as little or less intelligible than any of the 
 rest; and the summary of his doctrine, which he here sub- 
 joins, is to me wholly incomprehensible. His words are : 
 " Thus our souls depend on God all manner of ways : for as
 
 412 AN EXAMINATION OP 
 
 it is he which makes them feel pleasure and pain, and all 
 other sensations, by the natural union which he has made 
 between them and our bodies, which is nothing else but his 
 decree and general will; so it is he, who, by the natural 
 union which he has made betwixt the will of man and the 
 representation of ideas, which the immensity of the Divine 
 Being contains, makes them know all that they know; and 
 this natural union is also nothing but his general will." 
 This phrase, of the union of our wills to the ideas contained 
 in God's immensity, seems to me a very strange one, and 
 what light it gives to his doctrine I truly cannot find. It 
 seemed so unintelligible to me, that I guessed it an error in 
 the print of the edition I used, which was the quarto printed 
 at Paris, 78, and therefore consulted the octavo, printed also 
 at Paris, and found it will in both of them. Here again the 
 immensity oftlie Divine Being being mentioned as that which 
 contains in it the ideas to .which our wills are united ; which 
 ideas being only those of quantity, as I shall show hereafter, 
 seems to me to carry with it a very gross notion of this 
 matter, as we have above remarked. But that which I take 
 notice of principally here, is, that this union of our wills to 
 the ideas contained in God's immensity, does not at all ex- 
 plain our seeing of them. This union of our wills to the 
 ideas, or, as in other places, of our souls to God, is, says he, 
 nothing but the wiU of God. And after this union, our 
 seeing them is only when God discovers them ; i. e., our 
 having them in ovac minds is nothing but the will of God ; all 
 which is brought about in a way we comprehend not. And 
 what, then, does this explain more than when one says our 
 souls are united to our bodies by the will of God, and by the 
 motion of some parts of our bodies'? — v. g., the nerves or 
 animal spirits have ideas or perceptions produced in them, 
 and this is the will of God. Why is not this as intelligible 
 and as clear as the other? Here is the will of God giving 
 union and perception in both cases; but how that perception 
 is made, in both ways seems to me equally imcomprehensible. 
 In one, God discovers ideas in himself to the soul united to 
 him when he pleases ; and in the other he discovers ideas to 
 the soul, or produces perception in the soul united to the 
 body by motion, according to laws established by the good 
 pleasure of his will ; but how it is done in the one or the
 
 p. malebranciie's opixiox. 443 
 
 other I confess my incapacity to conijn-ehend. So that I 
 agree perfectly with him in his conchision, that " there is 
 nothing but God that can enlighten us ; but a clear compre- 
 hension of the manner how he does it I doubt I shall not 
 have, until I know a great deal more of him and myself 
 than in this state of darkness and ignorance our souls are 
 capable of 
 
 43. In the next chapter (VII.) he tells us, " there are 
 four ways of knowing;* the first is to know things by them- 
 selves;" and thus, he says, " we know God alone;" and the 
 reason he gives of it is this, because " at present he alone 
 penetrates the mind, and discovers himself to it." 
 
 First, I would know what it is to penetrate a thing that 
 is unextended. These are ways of speaking, which taken 
 from body, when they are apjjlied to spirit, signify nothing, 
 nor show us anything but our -ignorance. To God's pene- 
 trating our spirits, he joins his discovering himself ; as if one 
 were the cause of the other, and explained it: but I not 
 conceiving anything of the penetration of an unextended 
 thing, it is lost upon me. But next God penetrates our 
 souls, and therefore we see Mm by a direct and immediate 
 view, as he says in the following words. The ideas of all 
 things which are in God, he elsewhere tells us, are not at 
 all different from God himself; and if God's penetrating our 
 minds be the cause of our direct and immediate seeing God, 
 we have a direct and immediate view of all that we see ; for 
 we see nothing but God and ideas; and it is impossible for 
 us to know that there is anything else in the universe ; for 
 since we see, and can see nothing but God and ideas, how 
 can we know there is anything else which we neither do 
 nor can see? But if there be anything to be understood by 
 this penetration of our souls, and we have a direct view of 
 God by this penetration, why have we not also a direct and 
 
 * On this subject Malebranche states his views briefly and distinctly. 
 " Afin d'abreger et d'^claircir le sentiment que je viensd'^tabiirtouchant 
 la manifere, dont 1' esprit appergoit tous les diff^rens objets de sa connois- 
 sance, il est n^cessaire que je distingue en lui quatre mani^res de con- 
 noltre. La premiere est de connoltre les choses par elles-memes. La 
 seconde de les connoltre par leurs id&s, c'est-k-dire, comme je I'entens 
 ici, par quelque chose qui soit difFi^rent d'elles. La troisi(5rae de les 
 . connoltre par conscience, on par sentiment int^rieur. La quatrieme de 
 les connoltre par conjecture. (T. i. p. 373.) — Ed.
 
 444 AN EXAMINATION OF 
 
 inwiecliate view of other separate spirits besides Godi To 
 this he says, that there is none but God alone who at j^reseat 
 penetrates our spirits. This he says, but I do not see for 
 what reason, but because it suits with his hypothesis : but 
 he proves it not, nor goes about to do it, unless the direct 
 and immediate view, he says, we have of God, be to be taken 
 as a proof of it. But what is that direct and immediute view 
 we have of God that we have not of a cherubim?* The 
 ideas of being, power, knowledge, goodness, duration, make 
 up the complex idea we have of one and of the other; but 
 only that in the one we join the idea of infinite to each 
 simple idea, that makes our complex one, but to the other, 
 that of finite. But how have we a more direct or immediate 
 view of the idea of power, knowledge, or dui'ation, when we 
 consider them in God than when we consider them in an 
 angel? The view of these ideas seems to be the same. In- 
 deed we have a clearer proof of the existence of God than oi" 
 a chei-ubim; but the idea of either, when we have it in our 
 minds, seems to me to be there by an equally direct aoid irrh- 
 onedlate view. And it is about the ideas which are in our 
 minds that I think our author's inquiry here is, and not 
 about the real existence of those things whereof we have 
 ideas, which are two very remote things. 
 
 44. " Perhaps it is God alone," says our author, " who 
 can enlighten our minds by his substance." When I know 
 what the substance of God is, and what it is to be erdightetied 
 hy that substance, I shall know what I also shall think of 
 it ; but at present I confess myself in the dark as to tliis 
 matter; nor do these good words of substance and enlighieti- 
 ing, in the way they are here used, help me one jot out 
 of it. 
 
 45. He goes on — " One cannot conceive," says he, " that 
 anything created can repressnt what is infinite." And I 
 cannot conceive that there is any positive comprehensive idea 
 in any finite mind that does represent it fully and clearly as 
 it is. I do not find that the mind of man has infinity, posi- 
 tively and fully represented to it, or comprehended by it; 
 which must be, if his argviment were true, that therefore 
 God enlightens our minds by his proper substance ; because 
 no created thing is big enough to represent what is infinite ; 
 
 t It should have been cherub ; cherubim in the plural. — Ed.
 
 p. malebranche's opiniox. 445 
 
 and therefore what makes us conceive his infinity, is the 
 presence of his own infinite substance in our minds; which 
 to me manifestly supposes that we comprehend in our minds 
 God's infinite substance, which is present to our minds; for 
 if this be not the force of his argument, where he says, 
 " Notliing created can represent what is infinite ; the Being 
 that is without boimds, the Being immense, the Being uni- 
 versal, cannot be perceived by an idea, i. e., by a particular 
 being, by a being difierent from the universal infinite Being 
 itself." It seems to me that this argument is founded on 
 a supposition of our comprehending the infinite substance of 
 God in our minds, or else I see not any force in it, as I have 
 already said. I shall take notice of one or two things in it 
 that confound me, and that is, that he calls God here tJie uni- 
 versal Being ; which must either signify that Being which 
 contains, and is made up as one comprehensive aggregate of 
 all the rest, in which sense the universe may be called tlie 
 universal Being ; or else it must mean being in general, which 
 is nothing but the idea of Being abstracted from all inferior 
 divisions of that general notion, and from all particular ex- 
 istence. But in neither of these senses can I conceive God 
 to be the tiniversal Being, since I cannot think the creatures 
 either to be a part or a species of him. Next he calls the ideas 
 that are in God, particular Beings. I grant whatever exists is 
 particvilar; it cannot be otherwise; but that which is par- 
 ticular in existence may be universal in representation, which 
 I take to be all the universal beings we know, or can con- 
 ceive to be. But let universal and particular beings be what 
 they will, I do not see how our author can say that God 
 is an universal Being, and the ideas we see in him jmrtictUar 
 beings ; since he in another place tells us, that the ideas we 
 see in God are not at all diflferent from God. " But," says 
 he, " as to particular beings, it is not hard to conceive that 
 they can be represented by the infinite Being whicli contains 
 them, and contains them after a very spiritual manner, and 
 consequently very intelligible." It seems as impossible to 
 me, that an infinite simple Being, in whom there is no variety, 
 nor shadow of variety, should represent a finite thing, as that 
 a finite thing should represent an infinite; nor do I see how 
 its " containing all things in it after a very spiritual manner 
 makes it so veiy intelligible;" since I understand not what
 
 446 AN EXAMINATION OF 
 
 it is to contain a material thing spiritually, nor the manner 
 how God contains anything in himself, but either as an ag- 
 gregate contains all things which it is made up of; and so in- 
 deed that part of him may be seen which comes within the 
 reach of our view. But this way of containing all things 
 can by no means belong to God; and to make things thus 
 visible in him is to make the material world a part of him, 
 or else as having a power to produce all tilings!; and in this 
 way, it is true, God contains all things in himself, but in a 
 way not proper to make the Being of God a representative 
 of those things to us; for then his Being, being the repre- 
 sentative of the effects of that power, it must represent to us 
 all that he is capable of producing, which I do not find in 
 myself that it does. 
 
 46. Secondly. "The second way of knowing things," he 
 tells us, " is by ideas, that is, by something that is different 
 from them ;" and thus we " know things when they are not 
 intelligible by themselves, either because they ai-e corporeal, 
 or because they cannot penetrate the mind, or discover them- 
 selves to it ;" and this is the way " we know corporeal 
 things." This reasoning I do not understand: Fii'st, Be- 
 cause I do not understand why a line or a triangle is not as 
 intelligihle as anything that can be named ; for we must still 
 caiTy along with us that the discourse here is about our per- 
 ception, or what we have any idea or conception of in our 
 own minds. Secondly, Because I do not understand what is 
 meant by the penetrating a spirit ; and till I can comprehend 
 " these, upon which this reasoning is built, this reasoning can- 
 not work on me. But from these reasons he concludes, 
 " thus it is in God, and by their ideas that we see bodies and 
 their properties; and it is for this reason that the knowledge 
 we have of them is most perfect." Whether othei-s will 
 think that what we see of bodies is seen in God, by seeing 
 the ideas of them that are in God, must be left to them. 
 Why I cannot think so I have shown; but the inference he 
 makes here from it I think few will assent to, that we know 
 bodies and their properties most perfectly.* For who is 
 
 * On the imperfection of our knowledge of bodies it is unnecessaiy 
 to dwell, the fresh discoveries which are continually made by natural 
 philosophers being, in some sort, a demonstration of it. Malebranche's 
 notions, however, were not built ujson experience, but fiishioned to suit
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 4i7 
 
 there that can say he knows the properties either of body in 
 general, or of any one particular body perfectly 1 One pro- 
 l>erty of body in general is to have paiijs cohering and united 
 together, for wherever there is body there is cohesion of 
 jmrts; but who is there that perfectly understands that cohe- 
 sion? And as for particular bodies, who can say that he 
 perfectly understands gold, or a loadstone, and all its j^ro- 
 perties? But to explain himself, he says, that "the idea 
 we have of extension suffices to make us know all the pro- 
 perties whereof extension is capable, and that we cannot 
 desire to have an idea more distinct, and more fruitful of 
 extension, of figures, and of motions, than that which God 
 has given us of them." This seems to me a strange proof 
 that we see bodies and their properties in God, and knovj tJieiri 
 perfectly, because God has given us distinct and fruitful 
 ideaa of extension, figm-e, and motion: for this had 
 been the same, whether God had given these ideas, by 
 showing them in himself or by any other way; and his 
 saying, that God has given us as distinct and fruitful ideas of 
 them as we can desire, seems as if o\ir author himself had 
 some other thoughts of them. If he thought we see them in 
 God, he must think we see them as they are in themselves, 
 and there would be no room for saying, God had given them 
 us as distinct as we could desire : the calling them fruitful 
 shows this yet more; for one that thinks he sees the ideas of 
 figures in God, and can see no idea of a figure but in God, 
 with what thought can he call any one of them feco7ide, which 
 is said only of such things as produce others'? which expres- 
 
 the rest of his theory. He maintains that it is our ideas of bodies, and 
 not bodies themselves, that are the proper objects of this branch of our 
 knowledge: "On connoit les choses par leurs id^es, lorsqu'elles ne sont 
 point intelligibles par elles-memes, soit parce qu'elles sont corporelleSj 
 soit parce qu'elles ne peuvent p^netrer I'esprit or se d^couvrir a lui." 
 (t. i. p. 373.) Nevertheless, though we come to the knowledge of bodies 
 not immediately, but through the medium of ideas, and owe the know- 
 ledge of our own minds to consciousness and direct study, he supposes us 
 to understand the nature of bodies much better than that of our own 
 minds. '"On peut conclure," says he, "qu encore que nous connoissons 
 plus distinctement I'existence de n6tre ame que I'existence de n6tre corps, 
 et de ceux qui nous environnent : cependant nous n'avons pas une con- 
 noissance si parfaite de la nature de I'ame que de la nature des corps ; et 
 cela/ peut servir a accoi-der les differens sentimens de ceux qui drsent 
 qu'il n'j' a rien qu'on connoisse mieux que I'ame, et de ceux qui assurent 
 qu'il n'y a rien qu'ils connoisseiit moins." (p. 376.j — Ed.
 
 448 AX EXAMINATION OF 
 
 sion of his seems to proceed only from this thought in him, 
 that when I have once got the idea of extension, I can frame 
 the ideas of what figures, and of what bigness I please. And in 
 this I agree with him, as appears in what I have said, 1. ii, c.l . 
 But then this can by no means proceed from a supposition 
 that I see these figures only in God ; for there they do not 
 produce one another, but are there, as it were, in their first 
 pattern to be seen, just such and so many as God is pleased 
 to show them to us. But it will be said, our desire to see 
 them is the occasional cause of God's showing them us, and 
 so we see whatever figure we desire. Let it be so, thLs does 
 not make any idea, feconde, for here is no production of one 
 out of another; but as to the occasional cause, can any one 
 say that is so] I, or our author, desire to see an angle next 
 in greatness to a right angle; did, upon this, God ever show 
 him or me such an angle? That God knows, or has in him- 
 self the idea of such an angle, I think will not be denied; 
 but that he ever showed it to any man, how much soever he 
 desired it, I think may be doubted. But after all, how comes 
 it by this means that we have a ferfect knowledge of bodies 
 and their properties, when several men in the world have not 
 the same idea of body, and this very author and I difiier in 
 it? He thinks bare extension to be body, and I think ex- 
 tension alone makes not body, but extension and solidity;* 
 thus either he or I, one of us, has a wrong and imperfect 
 knowledge of bodies and their propei-ties. For if bodies be 
 extension alone, and nothing else, I cannot conceive how they 
 can move and hit one against another, or what can make dis- 
 tinct surfaces in an uniform simple extension. A solid ex- 
 tended thing I can conceive movable; but then, if I have a 
 clear view of bodies and their properties in God, I must see 
 the idea of solidity in God, which yet I think, by what our 
 author has said in his Eclaircissements, he does not allow 
 that we do. He says fiui;her : " That, whereas the ideas of 
 things that are in God contain all their properties, he that 
 sees their ideas may see successively all their properties." 
 This seems to me not to concern our ideas more, whether we 
 see them in God, or have them otherwise. Any idea that we 
 have, whencesoever we have it, contains in it all the proper- 
 
 * See Antoine Le Grand, Instit. Philosoph. IV, iii. p. 150 ; Hobbes, 
 Elements of Philosophy, Pt. II. chap. viii. — Ed.
 
 p. malebkanche's opinion, 449 
 
 ties it has, which ai-e nothing bnt the relations it has to other 
 ideas, which are always the same. What he says concerning 
 the properties, that we may successively know tliem, is equally 
 true, whether we see them in God or have them by any other 
 means. They that apply them as they oiight to the consi- 
 deration of their ideas, may successively come to the know- 
 ledge of some of their properties; but that they may hww 
 all their projjerties is more than I think the reason j)i'oves, 
 which he subjoins in these words : " For when one sees the 
 things as they are in God, one sees them always in a most 
 perfect manner." We see, for example, in God, the idea of 
 a triangle or a circle; does it hence follow that we can know 
 all the properties of either of them % He adds, that the man- 
 ner of seeing them " would be infinitely perfect, if the mind 
 which sees them in God was infinite," I confess myself here 
 not well to comprehend his distinction between seeing after 
 a manner \tres-parfait\ most perfect and infinitely p&rfect. He 
 adds: "That which is wanting to the knowledge that we 
 have of extension, figures, and motion is not a defect of the 
 idea which represents it, but of our mind which considers it." 
 If by ideas be meant here the real objects of our knowledge, 
 I easily agree that the want of knowledge in us is a defect 
 in our minds, and not in the things to be known. But if by 
 ideas be here meant the perception or representation of 
 things in the mind, that I cannot but observe in myself to 
 be very imperfect and defective, as when I desire to perceive 
 what is the substance of body or s^jirit the idea thereof fails 
 me. To conclude, I see not what there is in this paragraph 
 that makes anything for the doctrine of " seeing all things 
 in God." 
 
 47. " The third way of knowing is by consciousness,* or 
 interior sentiments ; and thus," he says, " we know our souls, 
 and it is for this reason that the knowledge we have of them 
 is imperfect ; we know nothing of our souls but what we feel 
 within ourselves." This confession of our author brings me 
 back, do what I can, to that original of all our ideas which 
 my thoughts led me to when I writ my book, viz., sensation 
 and reflection ; and therefore I am forced to ask any one who 
 
 * According to Condillac, all knowledge is based on consciousness. 
 (Essai sur I'Origiue du Connoissances humaines, § 2, chap. i. p. 26.) — 
 Ed. 
 
 VOL. II. 2 a
 
 450 AN EXAMINATIOX OF 
 
 is of our author's principles, whether God had not the idea of 
 mine, or of a human soul, before he created it? Next, whe- 
 ther that idea of a human soul be not as much a real being 
 in God as the idea of a triangle? If so, why does not my 
 soul, being intimately united to God, as well see the idea of 
 my soul which is in him, as the idea of a triangle wliich is 
 in him? And what reason can there be given why God 
 shows the idea of a triangle to us, and not the idea of our 
 souls, but this, that God has given us external sensation to 
 perceive the one and none to perceive the other, but only 
 intei-nal sensation to perceive the operation of the latter? 
 He that pleases may read what om* author says in the re- 
 mainder of this and the two or three next paragraj)hs, and 
 see whether it carries him beyond where my ignorance 
 stopped; I must own that me it does not. 
 
 48. " This," [i. e., the ignorance we are in of our own souls,] 
 says he, " may serve to prove that the ideas that represent 
 anything to us that is without us, are not modifications of 
 our souls; for if the soul saw all things by considering its 
 own proper modifications, it should know more clearly its 
 own essence, or its own natiu'e, than that of bodies, and all 
 the sensations or modifications whereof it is capable, than 
 the figures or modifications of which bodies are capable. In 
 the meantime it knows not that it is capable of any such 
 sensation by sight as it has of itself, but only by experience ; 
 instead that it knows that extension is capable of an infinite 
 number of figures by the idea that it has of extension. 
 There are, moreover, certain sensations, as colours and sounds, 
 which the greatest part of men cannot discover whether they 
 are modifications of the soul ; and there are figures which all 
 men do not discover by the idea of extension to be modifi- 
 cations of bodies." This paragraph is, as he tells us, to prove, 
 " that the ideas that represent to us something Avithout us 
 are not modifications of the soul;" but instead of that, it 
 seems to prove that figure is the modification of space, and 
 not of our souls. For if this argument had tended to prove 
 " that the ideas that represent anything without us were not 
 modifications of the sovil," he should not have put the mind's 
 not knowing what modifications itself was capable of, and 
 knowing what figures sjsace was capable of, in opposition one 
 to another; but the antithesis must have lain in this, that
 
 p. mallbkanohe's opixiox. 451 
 
 tlie mind knew it was capable of the perception of figure or 
 motion without any modification of itself, but was not capa- 
 ble of the perception of sound or colour without a modifica- 
 tion of itself For the question here is not whether space be 
 capable of figure, and the soul notj but whether the soul be 
 capable of perceiving, or having the idea of figure, without 
 a modification of itself, and not capable of having the idea 
 of colour without a modification of itself. I think now of 
 the figure, colour, and hardness of a diamond that I saw 
 some time since : in this case, I desii'e to be informed how 
 my mind knows that the tliinking on, or the idea of the 
 figure, is not a modification of the mind; but the thinking 
 on, or having an idea of the colour or hardness is a modifi- 
 cation of the mind. It is certain there is some alteration in 
 my mind when I think of a figure which I did not think of 
 before, as well as when I think of a colour that I did not 
 think of before. But one I am told is seeing it in God, and 
 the other a modification of my mind. But supposing one is 
 seeing in God, is there no alteration in my mind between 
 seeing and not seeing? And is that to be called a modifica- 
 tion or no? For when he says seeing a colour, and hearing 
 a sound, is a modification of the mind, what does it signify 
 but an alteration of the mind from not perceiving to per- 
 ceiving that sound or colour? And so when the mind sees 
 a triangle, which it did not see before, what is this but an 
 alteration of the mind from not seeing to seeing, whether 
 that figure be seen in God or no? And why is not this 
 alteration of the mind to be called a modification, as well as 
 the other? Or, indeed, what service does that word do us in 
 the one case or the other, when it is only a new sound brought 
 in without any new conception at all I For my mind, when 
 it sees a colour or figure is altered, I know, from the not 
 having such or such a perception to the ha\ing it ; but when, 
 to explain this, I am told that either of these j>erceptious is 
 a modification of the mind, what do I conceive more, than 
 that from not having such a perception my mind is come to 
 have such a perception? which is what I as well knew be- 
 fore the word modification was made use of, which by its use 
 has made me conceive nothing more than what I conceived 
 before. 
 
 49. One thing 1 cannot but take notic*; of here by the by, 
 
 2 G 2
 
 452 AN EXAMINATION OF 
 
 that he says, that " the soul knows that extension is capable 
 of an infinite number of figures by the idea it has of exten- 
 sion," which is true. And afterwards he says, that " there 
 are no figures which all men do not discover, by the idea 
 they have of extension, to be modifications of body." One 
 would wonder why he did not say modifications of exten- 
 sion, rather than, as he does, the modifications 0/ bodi/,ih.ey 
 being discovered by the idea of extension ; but the truth would 
 not bear such an expression. For it is certain that in pure 
 space or extension, which is not terminated, there is truly no 
 distinction' of figures, but in distinct bodies that are termi- 
 nated there are distinct figures, because simple space or 
 extension, being in itself uniform, inseparable, immovable, 
 has in it no such modification or distinction of figures. But 
 it is cajyable, as he says, but of what? Of bodies of all sorts 
 of figures and magnitudes, without which there is no dis- 
 tinction of figures in space. Bodies that are solid, separable, 
 terminated, and movable, have all sorts of figures, and they 
 are bodies alone that have them : and so figures are properly 
 modifications of bodies, for pure space is not anywhere ter- 
 minated, nor can be, whether there be or be not body in it, 
 it is uniformly continued on. This that he plainly said here, 
 to me plainly shows that body and extension are two things, 
 though much of our author's doctrine be built upon their 
 being one and the same. 
 
 50. The next paragraph is to show us the difiierence be- 
 tween ideas and sentiments in this : that " sentiments are 
 not tied to words; so that he that never had seen a colour or 
 felt heat could never be made to have those sensations by all 
 the definitions one could give him of them." This is true of 
 what he calls sentiments, and as true also of what he calls 
 ideas. Show me one who has not got by experience, i. e., by 
 seeing or feeling the idea of space or motion, and I will as 
 soon by words make one who never felt what heat is, have a 
 conception of heat, as he that has not by his senses perceived 
 what space or motion is, can by words be made to conceive 
 either of them. The reason why we are apt to think these 
 ideas belonging to extension got another way than other 
 ideas, is because our bodies being extended, we cannot avoid 
 the distinction of parts in ourselves; and all that is for the 
 support of our lives being by motion applied to us, it is im-
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 453 
 
 possible to find any one who has not by experience got those 
 ideas; and so by the use of language leai-ned what wo]-ds 
 stand for them, which by custom came to excite them in his 
 mind, as the names of heat and pleasure do excite, in the 
 mind of those who have- by experience got them, the ideas 
 they are by use annexed to. Not that words or definitions 
 can teach or bring into the mind one more than another of 
 those I call simple ideas ; but can by use excite them in 
 those, who having got them by experience, know certain 
 sounds to be by use annexed to them as the signs of them. 
 
 51. Fourthly. " The fourth way of knowing," he tells us, 
 "is by conjecture, and thus only we know the souls of other 
 men and pure intelligences:" i. e., we know them not at all; 
 but we probably think there are such beings really existing 
 in rerum natura* But this looks to me beside our author's 
 business here, which seems to be to examine what ideas we 
 have, and how we came by them. So that the thing here 
 considered should, in my opinion, be, not whether there were 
 any souls of men or pure intelligences anywhere existing, 
 but what ideas we have of them, and how we came by them. 
 For when he says, we know not angels, either in themselves, 
 or hy their ideas, or hy consciousness, what in that place does 
 aw^re^ signify? What idea in him does it stand for] Oris 
 it the sign of no idea at all, and so a bare sound without 
 signification] He that reads this seventh chapter of his 
 with attention, will find that we have simple ideas as far as 
 our experience reaches, and no further. And beyond that 
 we know nothing at all, no, not even what those ideas are 
 that are in us, but only that they are perceptions in the mind, 
 but how made we cannot comprehend. 
 
 52. In his Eclaircissements on the Nature of Ideas, p. 535, 
 
 * " De tous les objets de notre connoissance, il ne nous reste plus 
 que les ames des autres hommes, et que les pui'es intelligences ; et il est 
 manifeste que nous ne les connoissons que par conjecture nous ne les 
 connoissons presentement ni en elles-memes ni par leurs idees, et conime 
 elles sont diff^rentes de nous, il n'est pas possible que nous les connois- 
 sons par conscience. Nous conjecturons que les ames des autres hommea 
 sont comme la notre. Ce que nous sentons en nous-meraes, nous pr^- 
 tendons qu'ils le sentent, et meme lorsque ces sentimens n'ont point de 
 rapport au corps, nous sonimes assurez que nous ne nous trompons 
 point: parce que nous voyons en Dieu certaines idees et certaines loix 
 immuable, selon lesquelles nous sgavons avec certitude, que Dieu agit 
 ^galement dans tous les esprits." (p. 378 seq.) —
 
 454 AN EXAMINATION OP 
 
 of the 4to edition, he says, that " he is certain that the ideas 
 of things are unchangeable." This I cannot comprehend, 
 for how can I know that the picture of anything is like that 
 thing, when I never see that which it represents? For if 
 these words do not mean that ideas are true unchangeable 
 representations of things, I know not to what purpose they 
 are. And if that be not their meaning, then they can only 
 signify, that the idea I have once had will be unchangeably 
 the same as long as it recurs the same in my memory; but 
 when another different from that comes into my mind, it 
 will not be that. Thus the idea of a horse, and the idea of 
 a centaur, will, as often as they recm^ in my mind, be un- 
 changeably the same ; which is no more than this, the same 
 idea will be always the same idea; but whether the one or 
 the other be the time representation of anything that exists, 
 that, upon his principles, neither our author nor anybody 
 else can know. 
 
 53. What he says here of universal reason, which en- 
 lightens every one, whereof all men partake, seems to me 
 nothing else but the power men have to consider the ideas 
 they have one with another, and by thus comparing them, 
 find out the relations that are between them; and therefore 
 if an intelligent being at one end of the world, and another 
 at the other end of the world, will consider twice two and 
 four together, he cannot but find them to be equal, i. e., to 
 be the same number. These relations, it is true, are infinite, 
 and God, who knows all things, and their relations as they 
 are, knows them all, and so his knowledge is infinite. But 
 men are able to discover more or less of these relations, only 
 as they apply their minds to consider any sort of ideas, and 
 to find out intermediate ones, which can show the relation 
 of those ideas, which cannot be immediately compared by 
 juxta-position. But then what he means by that iiifinite 
 reason which men consult, I confess myself not well to un- 
 derstand. For if he means that they consider a part of 
 those relations of things which are infinite, that is true; but 
 then, this is a very improper way of speaking, and I cannot 
 think that a man of his parts would use it to mean nothing 
 else by it. If he means, as he says, p. 536, that this infinite 
 and universal reason, whereof men partake, and which they 
 consult, is the reason of God himself, I can by no means
 
 p. malebranche's opinion. 455 
 
 assent to it. First, Because I think we cannot say God 
 reasons at all; for he has at once a view of all things. But 
 reason is very far from such an intuition; it is a laborious 
 and gradual progress in the knowledge of things, by com- 
 paring one idea with a second, and a second with a third, 
 and that with a fourth, &c., to find the relation between the 
 first and the last of these in this train, and in search for such 
 intermediate ideas as may show us the relation we desire to 
 know, which sometimes we find, and sometimes not. This 
 way, therefore, of finding truth, so painful, uncertain, and 
 limited, is proper only to men or finite understandings, but 
 can by no means be supposed in God; it is, therefore, in 
 God, understanding or knowledge. But then, to say, that 
 we })artake in the knowledge of God, or consult his under- 
 standing, is what I cannot receive for true. God has given 
 me an understanding of my o^vn; and I should think it 
 jiresumption in me to suppose I apprehended anything by 
 God's understanding, saw with his eyes, or shared of his 
 knowledge. I think it more possible for me to see with 
 other men's eyes, and understand with another man's under- 
 standing, than with God's; there being some proportion be- 
 tween mine and another man's understanding, but none 
 between mine and God's. But if this " infinite reason which 
 we consult," be at last nothing but those infinite unchange- 
 able relations which are in things, some of which we make 
 a shift to discover, this indeed is true, but seems to me to 
 make little to our author's purpose, of seeing all things in 
 God ; and that " if we see not all things by the natiu-al union 
 of our minds with the universal and infinite reason, we should 
 not have the liberty to think on all things," as he expresses 
 it, p. 538. To explain himself further concerning this uni- 
 versal reason, or as he there calls it by another name, order, 
 p. 539, he says, that " God contains in himself the perfec- 
 tions of all the creatures that he has created, or can create, 
 after an intelligible manner." Intelligible to himself, that is 
 true; but intelligible to men, at least to me, that I do not 
 find, unless " by containing in himself the perfections of all 
 the creatures," be meant, that there is no perfection in any 
 creature but there is a greater in God, or that there is in 
 God greater perfection than all the perfection in the creatures 
 taken together. And therefore, though it be true what i'ol-
 
 456 AN EXAMINATION OF 
 
 lows in the next words, " that it is by these intelligible pei'- 
 fections that God knows the essence of everything," yet it 
 will not follow from hence, or from anything else that he 
 has said, that those ferfections in God which contain in them 
 the perfections of all the creatures, are tlie immediate objects of 
 tlie mind of man, or tliat they are so the objects of the mind 
 of man that he can in them see the essences of the creatures. 
 For I ask in which of the perfections of God does a man 
 see the essence of a horse or an ass, of a serpent or a dove, 
 of hemlock or parsley? T, for my part, I confess, see not 
 the essence of any of these things in any of the perfections 
 of God which I have any notion of. For indeed I see not 
 the distinct essence either of these things at all, or know 
 wherein it consists. And therefore I cannot comprehend 
 the force of the inference, which follows in these words: 
 " Then the intelligible ideas or perfections that are in God, 
 which represent to us what is out of Grod, are absolutely 
 necessary and unchangeable." That the ]>erfections that are 
 in God are necessary and unchangeable, I readily grant ; but 
 that the ideas that are intelligible to God, or are in the un- 
 derstanding of God, (for so we must speak of him whilst we 
 conceive of him after the manner of men,) can be seen by 
 us; or that the perfections that are in God represent to us 
 the essences of things that are out of God, that I cannot 
 conceive. The essence of matter, as much as I can see of 
 it, is extension, solidity, divisibility, and mobility; but in 
 which of the perfections of God do I see this essence? To 
 another man, as to our author, perhaps, the essence of body 
 is quite another thing; and when he has told us what to 
 him is the essence of body, it will be then to be considered 
 in which of the perfections of God he sees it. For example, 
 let it be pure extension alone, the idea then that God had 
 in himself of the essence of body before body was created, 
 was the idea of pure extension; when God then created 
 body he created extension, and then space, which existed 
 not before, began to exist. This, I confess, I cannot con- 
 ceive; but we see in the perfections of God the necessa/ry 
 and unchangeable essences of things. He sees one essence 
 of body in God, and I another; which is that necessary and 
 ^mchangeable essence of body which is contained in the per- 
 fections of God, his or mine ? Or, indeed, how do or can we
 
 p malebranche's opinion. 457 
 
 know there is any such thing existing as body at all 1 For 
 we see nothing but the ideas that are in God; but body 
 itself, we neither do nor can possibly see at all; and how 
 then can we know that there is any such thing existing as 
 body, since we can by no means see or perceive it by our 
 senses, which is all the way we can have of knowing any 
 corporeal thing to exist? But it is said, God shows us the 
 ideas in himself, on occasion of the presence of those bodies 
 to our senses. This is gratis dictum, and begs the thing in 
 question; and therefore I desire to have it proved to me 
 that they are present. I see the sun, or a horse; no, says 
 our author, that is impossible; they cannot be seen, because 
 being bodies they cannot be united to my mind, and be 
 present to it. But the sun being risen, and the horse brought 
 within convenient distance, and so being present to my eyes, 
 God shows me their ideas in himself; and I say God shows 
 me these ideas when he pleases, without the presence of any 
 such bodies to my eyes. For when 1 think I see a star at such 
 a distance from me, which truly I do not see, but the idea 
 of it which God shows me, I would have it proved to me 
 that there is such a star existing a million of million of miles 
 from me when I think I see it, more than when I dream of 
 such a star. For until it be proved that there is a candle 
 in the room by which I write this, the supposition of my 
 seeing in God the pyramidical idea of its flame upon occasion 
 of the candle's being there, is begging what is in question. 
 And to prove to me that God exhibits to me that idea upon 
 occasion of the presence of the candle, it must first be proved 
 to me that there is a candle there, which upon these princi- 
 ples can never be done. 
 
 Further, We see the necessary and unchangeable essences of 
 things in the perfections of God. "Water, a rose, and a lion, 
 have their distinct essences one from another, and all other 
 things ; what I desire to know are these distinct essences. I 
 confess I neither see them in nor out of God, and in which of 
 the perfections of God do we see each of them'? 
 
 Page 504, I find these words : " It is evident that the per- 
 fections that are in God, which represent created or possible 
 beings, are not at all equal : that those, for example, that 
 represent bodies, are not so noble as those, for example, that 
 represent spirits ; and amongst those themselves, which
 
 458 AN EXAMINATION OF P. MALEBRANCHE's OPINION. 
 
 represent nothing but body, or nothing but spirits, there are 
 moi'e perfect one than another to infinity. This is conceiv- 
 able clearly, and without pain, though one finds some diffi- 
 culty to reconcile the simplicity of the Divine Being with 
 this variety of intelligible ideas which he contains in his 
 wisdom." This difficulty is to me insurmoim table, and I 
 conclude it always shall be so till I can find a way to make 
 simplicity and vai'iety the same. And this difficulty must 
 always cumber this doctrine, which supposes that the perfec- 
 tions of God are the representatives to us of whatever we 
 perceive of the creatures ; for then those pex-fections must 
 be many, and diverse, and distinct one from another, as those 
 ideas are that represent the diflferent creatures to us. And 
 this seems to me to make God formally to contain in him all 
 the distinct ideas of all the creatures, and that so that they 
 might be seen one after another : which seems to me, after 
 all the talk of abstraction, to be but a little less gross con- 
 ception than of the sketches of all the pictures that ever a 
 painter draws, kept by him in his closet, which are there all 
 to be seen one after another, as he pleases to show them. 
 But whilst these abstract thoughts produce nothing better 
 than this, I the easier content myself with my ignorance, 
 which roundly thinks thus : God is a simple Being, omnis- 
 cient, that knows all things possible; and omnipotent, that 
 can do or make all things possible. But how he knows, or 
 how he makes, I do not conceive : his ways of knowing, as 
 well as his ways of creating, are to me incomprehensible; 
 and if they were not so, I should not think him to be God, 
 or to be perfecter in knowledge than I am.- To which our 
 author's thoughts seem, in the close of what is above cited, 
 somewhat to incline, when he says, " The variety of intelli- 
 gible ideas which God contains in his wisdom;" whereby he 
 seems to place this variety of ideas in the mind or thoughts 
 of God, as we may so say, whereby it is hard to conceive 
 how we can see them, and not in the being of God, where 
 they are to be seen as so many distinct things in it.
 
 REMARKS 
 
 SOME OF MR. NORRIS'S BOOKS, 
 
 WHEREIN HE ASSERTS 
 
 P. MALEBRANCHE'S OPINION, OF OUE SEEING ALL 
 THINGS IN GOD. 
 
 [As this little treatise is merely a continuation of the preceding, it is 
 unnecessary to give a separate account of it. Of Norris it may be ob- 
 served, that about the year 1704 he published a second attack on Locke's 
 philosophy, which I have never met with. The fact, however, is men- 
 tioned by Tennemann, (Manual of the History of Philosophy, § 337,) 
 though the work is now probably of rare occurrence. — Ed. ] 
 
 There ai-e some who think they have given an account of 
 the nature of ideas, by telling us " we see them in God," * as 
 if we understood what ideas in the understanding of God 
 are, better than when they are in our own understandings; 
 or their nature were better known when it is said that " the 
 immediate object of our understandings" are "the divine 
 ideas, the omniform essence of God, partially represented or 
 exhibited." t So that this now has made the matter clear, 
 there can be no difficulty left, when we are told that our 
 ideas are the divine ideas, and the divine ideas the omniform 
 essence of God. For what the divine ideas are we know as 
 plainly as we know what one, two, and three is : and it is 
 a satisfactory explication of what our ideas are to tell us, 
 they are no other than the divine ideas; and the divine 
 essence is more familiar and level to our knowledge than 
 anything we think of. Besides, there can be no difficulty in 
 understanding how the divine ideas are GocFs essence. 
 
 * See Cursory Reflections upon a Book called ' ' An Essay concerning 
 Human Understanding," written by John Noms, M.A., rector of New- 
 ton St. Loe, in Somersetshire, and late Fellow of All- Souls' College, in 
 a Letter to a Friend : printed at the end of his Christian Blessedness, 
 or Discourses upon the Beatitudes of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Chi-ist, 
 page 30. London, 1690, 8vo. 
 
 t Ibid. p. 31.
 
 460 REMARKS UPON SOME OF MR. NORRIS'S BOOKS. 
 
 2. I am complained of foi' not having " given an account 
 of," or " defined the nature of our ideas." * By " giving an 
 account of the nature of ideas," is not meant that I shoukl 
 make known to men their ideas; for I think nobody can 
 imagine that any articulate sounds of mine, or anybody else, 
 can make known to another what his ideas, that is, what his 
 perceptions, are, better than what he himself knows and 
 perceives them to be; which is enough for affirmations or 
 negations about them. By the "nature of ideas," therefore, 
 is meant here their causes and manner of production in the 
 mind, i. e., in what alteration of the mind this perception 
 consists: and as to that, I answer, no man can tell; for 
 which I not. only appeal to experience, which were enough, 
 but shall add this reason, viz., because no man can give any 
 account of any alteration made in any simple substance 
 whatsoever : all the alteration we can conceive being only of 
 the alteration of compounded substances, and that only by a 
 transposition of parts. Oiu- ideas, say these men, are the 
 divine ideas, or the omniform essence of God,\ which the mind 
 sometimes sees and sometimes not. Now I ask these men, 
 what alteration is made in the mind upon seeing .? for there 
 lies the difficulty which occasions the inquiry. 
 
 For what difference a man finds in himself when he sees a 
 marigold and sees not a marigold has no difficulty, and needs 
 not be inquii'ed after ; he has the idea now, which he had not 
 before. The difficulty is, what alteration is made in his 
 mind; what changes that has in itself, when it sees what it 
 -did not see before, either the "divine idea" in the under- 
 standing of God, or, as the ignorant think, the marigold in 
 the garden. Either supposition, as to this mattei', is all one ; 
 for they are both things extrinsical to the mind, till it has 
 that perception ; and when it has it, I desire them to explain 
 to me what the alteration in the mind is, besides saying, as 
 we vulgar do, it is having a perception which it had not the 
 moment before; which is only the difference between per- 
 ceiving and not perceiving; a difference in matter of fact 
 agreed on all hands ; which wherein it consists is, for aught 
 I see, unknown to one side as well as the other : only the one 
 
 * See Cursory Reflections, &c. , p. 3. 
 
 t See "Man in Search of Himself," by Cuthbert, Comment, 
 p. 190, 183.
 
 REMARKS UPON SOME OF MR. NORRIS'S BOOKS, 4G1 
 
 liave the ingenuity to confess their ignorance, and the other 
 pretend to be knowing. 
 
 3. P. jMalebranche says, " God does all things by the sim- 
 plest and shortest ways," i. e., as it is interpreted in Mr. 
 Norris's Reason and Religion, " God never does anything in 
 vain."* This will easily be grafted them; but how will 
 they reconcile to this principle of theirs, on which their 
 whole system is built, the curious structure of the eye and 
 ear, not to mention the other parts of the body 1 For if the 
 perception of colours and sounds depended on nothing but 
 the presence of the object affording an occasional cause to 
 God Almighty to exhibit to the mind the ideas of figures, 
 colours, and sounds, all that nice and curious structure of 
 those organs is wholly in vain ; since the sun by day, and the 
 stars by night, and the visible objects that surround us, and 
 the beating of a drum, the talk of people, and the change 
 made in the air by thunder, are as much jiresent to a blind 
 and deaf man, as to those who have theii* eyes and ears in 
 the greatest perfection. He that understands optics ever so 
 little, must needs admire the wonderful make of the eye, not 
 only for the variety and neatness of the pai-ts, but as suited 
 to the nature of refraction, so as to paint the image of the 
 object in the retina; which these men must confess to be all 
 lost labour, if it contributes nothing at all, in the ordinary 
 way of causes and effects, to the producing that idea in the 
 mind. But that only the presence of the object ^ave occasion 
 to God to show to the mind that idea in himself, which cer- 
 tainly is as present to one that has a gutta serena, as to the 
 quickest -sighted man living. But we do not know how by 
 a«iy natural operation this can pi-oduce an idea in the mind : 
 and therefore (a good conclusion !) God, the author of nature, 
 cannot this way produce it. As if it were impossible for the 
 Almighty to produce anything but by ways we must con- 
 ceive, and are able to compi-ehend; when he that is best 
 satisfied of his omniscient understanding, and knows so well 
 how God perceives and man thinks, cannot explain the cohe- 
 
 * Reason and Religion ; or the Grounds and Measures of Devotion, 
 considered from the Nature of God and the Nature of Man. In sevenil 
 Contemplations. With Exercises of Devotion apfjlied to every Contem- 
 plation. By John Norris, M.A., and Fellow of All-Souls' College, in 
 Oxford, Part II. Contemplation II. § 17, p. 195. London, 1689, 8vo.
 
 462 REMARKS UPON SOME OF MR. NORRIs's BOOKS. 
 
 sion of parts in the lowest degree of created beings, unor- . 
 gauized bodies, 
 
 4. The "perception of universals," also proves that all 
 beings are present to our minds; and that can only be by 
 the presence of God, because all created things are indivi- 
 duals.* Are not all things that exist individuals? f If so, 
 then say not all created, but aU existing things are indivi- 
 duals; and if so, then the having any general idea proves 
 not that we have all objects present to our minds; but this 
 is for want of considering wherein imiversality consists ; 
 which is only in representation abstracting from particulars. 
 An idea of a circle of an inch diameter will represent, where 
 or whensoever existing, all the cii'cles of an inch diameter ; 
 and that by abstracting from time and place. And it will 
 also represent all circles of any bigness, by abstracting also 
 from that particular bigness, and by retaining only the rela- 
 tion of equi-distance of the circumference from the centre, in 
 all the parts of it. 
 
 5. We have a " distinct idea of God," ;}: whereby we clearly 
 enoiigh distinguish him from the creatures; but I fear it 
 would he presumption for us to say we have a clear idea of 
 him, as he is in himself 
 
 6. The argument, that " we have the idea of infinite, be- 
 fore the idea of finite," because " we conceive infinite being 
 barely by conceiving being, without considering whether it 
 be finite or infinite,"1[ I shall leave to be considered, whether 
 it is not a mistake of priority of nature for priority of con- 
 ception. 
 
 7. " God made all things for himself;" || therefore we "see 
 all things in him." This is called demonstration. As if aU 
 things were not as well made for God, and mankind had not 
 as much reason to magnify him, if their perception of things 
 were any other way than such an one of seeing them in him; 
 as shows not God more than the other, and wherein not one 
 
 * Eeason and Religion, &c. Part II., Contemp. II. § 19, p. 191. 
 
 + See, on the subject of Universals, Hobbes' Universal Nature, chap, 
 V. § 6 ; where he does but reproduce, in reality, the notions of the Peri- 
 patetics, since Aristotle maintains precisely the same doctrines. See 
 Barthdlemy Saint- Hiiaire. De la Logique d' Aristotle, t. i. pp. 283, 292, 
 302. 
 
 :;: Reason and Religion, Part II., Contemp. II., § 20, p. 198. 
 
 m Ibid. § 21, p. 198. II Ibid. § 22, p. 199.
 
 KEMARKS UPON SOME OP MR. NORRIs's BOOKS. 463 
 
 of a million takes more notice of him than those who think 
 they perceive things where tliey are, by their senses. 
 
 8. "If God should create a mind, and give it the sun, sup- 
 pose, for its idea, or immediate object of knowledge, God 
 would then make that mind for the sun, and not for him- 
 self" * This supposes, that those that see things in God, see 
 at the same time God also, and thereby show that their minds 
 are made for God, having him for " the immediate object of 
 their knowledge." But for this I must appeal to common 
 experience, whether eveiy one, as often as he sees anything 
 else, sees and perceives God in the case ; or whether it be not 
 true of men, who see other things every moment, that God is 
 not in all their thoughts'? "Yet," says he, " when the mind sees 
 his works, it sees him in some manner."t This some manner 
 is no manner at all to the purpose of being onade oxAj for 
 God, for his idea, or for his immediate object of knowledge. 
 A man bred up in the obscurity of a dungeon, J where by a 
 dim and almost no light he perceives the objects about him, 
 it is true he owes this idea to the light of the sun; but 
 having never heard nor thought of the sim, can one say that 
 the idea of the sun is "his immediate object of knowledge," 
 or that therefore "his mind was made for the sun?" This is 
 the case of a great part of mankind; and how many can we 
 imagine of those who have got some notion of a God, either 
 from ti-adition or reason, have an idea of him present in their 
 minds as often as they think of anything else? 
 
 9. But if our being " made for God," necessarily demon- 
 strates that we should " see all things in him," this at last 
 will demonstrate that we are not half made for him ; since it 
 is confessed by our author that we see no other ideas in God 
 but those of number, extension, and essences, which are not 
 half the ideas that take up men's minds. 
 
 10. " The simple essences of things are nothing else but 
 the divine essence itself considered with his connotation, as 
 variously representative or exhibitive of things, and as va- 
 riously imitable or participable by them ;§ and this he tells us 
 are ideas. || The meaning, I take it, of all this put into plain 
 
 * Ibid. t Ibid. § 23. p. 200. 
 
 ^ Plato has a similar thought in the beginning of the seventh book of 
 his Eepublic, Opera, t. vi. p. 327. 
 
 § Eeason and Religion, Part T. Contemp. V. $ 19, p. 82. 
 II Ibid, f 20.
 
 464 REMARKS UPON SOME OF MR. KORRIS'S BOOKS. 
 
 intelligible words, is this : God has always a power to pro- 
 duce anything that involves not a contradiction. He also 
 knows what we can do. But what is all this to ideas in him, 
 as real beings visible by us? God knew from eternity he 
 could produce a pebble, a mushroom, and a man. Were 
 these, which are distinct ideas, part of his simple essence? 
 It seems then, we know very well the essence of God, and use 
 the word simple, which comprehends all sorts of variety in a 
 very proper way. But God knew he could produce such 
 creatures; therefore where shall we place those ideas he saw 
 of them, but in his own essence? There these ideas existed 
 eminenter ; and so they are the essence of God. There the 
 things themselves existed too, eminenter, and therefore all 
 the creatures as' they really exist are the essence of God. For 
 if finite real beings of one kind, as ideas are said to be, are 
 the essence of the infinite God; other finite beings, as the 
 creatures, may be also the essence of God. But after this 
 rate we must talk when we will allow ourselves to be igno- 
 rant of nothing, but will know even the knowledge of God 
 and the way of his imderstanding ! 
 
 11. The "essences of things, or ideas existing in God."* 
 There are many of them that exist in God : and so the sim- 
 ple essence of God has actually existing in it as great a variety 
 of ideas as there are of creatures; all of them real beings, 
 and distinct one from another. If it be said, this means 
 God can and knows he can produce them, what doth this say 
 more than every one says? If it doth say more, and shows 
 us not this infinite number of real distinct beings in God, so 
 as to be his very essence, what is this better than what those 
 say who make God to be nothing but the universe ;t though 
 
 * Ibid. ^ 21, p. 83. 
 
 t It has been already observed, that the philosophy of Malebranche, 
 which Norris appears to have adopted, lies open to the suspicion of Pan- 
 theism. Among the numerous passages in the Recherche de la Vt^rit^ 
 which might be adduced in support of this view, is the following: — 
 '''Ilfautbienremarquer qu'on ne peutpas conclure que les esprits voyent 
 I'essence de Dieu, de ce qu'ils voyent toutes choses en Dieu, de ce qu' ils 
 voyent toutes choses en Dieu de cette manifere. Parce que ce qu'ils 
 voyent est tres-imparfait, et que Dieu est tres-parfait. lis voyent de la 
 matiere divisible, ligur^e, &c., et il n'y a rien en Dieu qui soit divisible, 
 ou figur^ ; car Dieu est tout etre, parce qu'il est infini et qu'il comprend 
 tout; mais il n'est aucun etre en particulier. Cependant ce que nous 
 voyons n'est qu'un ou plusieurs etres en particulier, et nous ne compre- 
 nons point cette simplicity parfaite de Dieu qui renferme tous les etres."
 
 REMARKS UPON SOME OP MR. NORRIS'S BOOKS. 465 
 
 it be covered under unintelligible expressions of simplicity/ 
 and variety at the same time, in the essence of God? But 
 those who would not be thought ignorant of anything, to 
 attain it, make God like themselves; or else they could not 
 talk as they do, of " the mind of God," and the ideas in the 
 mind of God, exhibitive of all the whole possibility of being.' * 
 
 12. " It is in the divine nature that these universal natures, 
 which are the proper object of science, are to be found; and 
 consequently it is in God that we know all the tinith which 
 we know."t Doth any universal nature, therefore, exist? 
 Or can anything that exists anywhere, or anyhow, be any 
 other than singular? I think it cannot be denied that God 
 having a power to produce ideas in us, can give that power 
 to another; or, to express it othenvise, make any idea the 
 effect of any operation on our bodies. This has no contra- 
 diction in it, and therefore is possible. But you will say, 
 you conceive not the way how this is done. If you stand to 
 that rule, that it cannot be done because you conceive not 
 the manner how it is brought to pass, you must deny that 
 God can do this, because you cannot conceive the manner 
 how he produces any idea in us. If visible objects are seen 
 only by God's exhibiting their ideas to our minds, on occasion 
 of the presence of those objects, what hinders the Almighty 
 from exhibiting their ideas to a blind man, to whom, being 
 set before his face, and as near his eyes, and in as good a 
 light as to one not blind, they are, according to this supposi- 
 tion, as much the occasional cause to one as to the other? 
 But yet under this equality of occasional causes, one has the 
 idea, and the other not, and this constantly; which would 
 give one reason to suspect something more than a pr&sential 
 occasional cause in the object. 
 
 13. Further, j.f light striking upon the eyes be but the 
 occasional cause of seeing, God, in making the eyes of so 
 
 (t. i. p. 365.) The system of Pantheism has always been in great favour 
 with a certain class of philosopers, from the earliest dawn of specula- 
 tion. Thus we find the ancient Egyptians had anticipated the funda- 
 mental doctrine of Spinoza, so that, after carefuUy reviewing their theo- 
 logy, Jablonski exclaims : — " Would you not imagine that Spinoza had 
 borrowed his system from the Egyptians?" (Pantheon yEgyptiorum, 
 t. i p. 36.) 
 
 * Reason and Religion, Part I. Contemp. V. ^ 30, p. 92, 93. 
 
 t Ibid. Part II. Contemp. II. § 30, p. 206. 
 
 VOL. II. 2 H
 
 466 REMARKS UPON SOME OF MR. NORRIs's BOOKS, 
 
 curious a structure, operates not by the simplest ways; for 
 God could have produced visible ideas upon the occasion of 
 light striking upon the eyelids or forehead. 
 
 14. Outward objects are not, when present, always occa- 
 sional causes. He that has long continued in a room per- 
 fumed with sweet odours, ceases to smell, though the room 
 be filled with those flowers ; though as often as after a little 
 absence he returns again, he smells them afresh. He that 
 comes out of bright sunshine into a room where the curtains 
 are drawn, at first sees nothing in the room; though those 
 who have been there some time see him and everything 
 plainly. It is hard to account for either of these pheno- 
 mena, by God's producing these ideas upon the account of 
 occasional causes. But by the production of ideas in the 
 mind, by the operation of the object on the organs of sense, 
 this difierence is easy to be explained. 
 
 15. Whether the ideas of light and colours come in by the 
 eyes or no, it is all one as if they did ; for those who have 
 no eyes never have them. And whether or no God has 
 appointed that a certain modified motion of the fibres, or 
 spirits in the optic nerve, should excite, or produce, or cause 
 them in us, call it what you please, it is all one as if it did; 
 since where there is no such motion there is no such percep- 
 tion or idea. For I hope they wUl not deny God the privi- 
 lege to give such a power to motion if he pleases. Yes, say 
 they, they be the occasional, but not the efficient cause; for 
 that they cannot be, because that is in efiect to say, he has 
 given this motion in the optic nerve a power to operate on 
 himself, but cannot give it a power to operate on the mind of 
 man : it may by this appointment operate on himself, the 
 impassable infinite Spu'it, and put him in mind when he is 
 to operate on the mind of man, and exhibit to it the idea 
 which is in himself of any colour. The infinite eternal God 
 is certainly the cause of all things, the fountain of all being 
 and power. But because all being was from him, can there 
 be nothing but God himself? or because all power was 
 originally in him, can there be nothing of it communicated 
 to his creatui-es? This is to set very narrow boimds to the 
 power of God, and, by pretending to extend it, takes it away. 
 For which (I beseech you, as we can comprehend) is the per- 
 fectest power, to make a machine — a watch, for example —
 
 REMARKS UPON SOME OF MR. NORRTS's BOOKS. 467 
 
 that, when the watchmaker has withdrawn liis hands, shall 
 go and strike by the fit contrivance of the parts; or else re- 
 quires that whenever the hand, by pointing to the hour, 
 minds him of it, he should strike twelve upon the bell? No 
 machine of God's making can go of itselfc Whyl because 
 the creatures have no power; can neither move themselves, 
 nor anything else. How then comes about all that we seel 
 Do they do nothing? Yes, they arc the occasioned causes to 
 God, why he should produce certain thoughts and motions in 
 them. The creatures cannot produce any idea, any thought 
 in man. How then comes he to jjerceive or think ? God, 
 upon the occasion of some motion in the optic nerve, exhibits 
 the colour of a marigold or a rose to his mind. How came 
 that motion in his optic nerve? On occasion of the motion 
 of some particles of light striking on the retina, God pro- 
 ducing it, and so on. And so, whatever a man thinks, God 
 produces the thought; let it be infidelity, murmuring, or 
 blasphemy. The mind doth nothing; his mind is only the 
 min'or that receives the ideas that God exliibits to it, and 
 just as God exhibits them : the man is altogether passive in 
 the whole business of thinking.* 
 
 * This doctrine, scarcely at all modified, has been preached in our 
 own day under the name of Socialism. Malebranche's exposition of it 
 is most explicit, eloquent, and persuasive. " Je S9ai bien que I'ame est 
 capable de penser; mais je S9ai aussi que I'etendue est capable de 
 figures ; I'ame est capable de volonti?, comme la matifere de mouvement. 
 Mais de meme qu'il est faux que la matifere, quoique capable de figure 
 et de mouvement, ait en eUe-meme xme force, nne faculte , uae nature, 
 par laquelle elle se puisse mouvoir, ou se donner tan tot une figure 
 ronde, et tantdt une quarree: quoique I'ame soit naturellement et 
 essentiellement capable de connoissance et de volonte, il est faux qu'elle 
 ait des facultcs par lesquelles elle puisse produire en elle ses idees, on 
 son mouvement vers le bien. II y a bien de la difFe'rence entre etre 
 mobile et se mouvoir: la matifere de sa nature est mobile et capable de 
 figures : elle ne pent meme subsister sans figure. Mais elle ne se meut 
 pas ; eUe ne se figure pas ; elle n'a point de facult<5 pour cela. L'esprit 
 de sa nature est capable de mouvement et d'idc^es; j'en conviens. Mais 
 il ne se meut pas; il ne s'^claire pas : c'est Dieu qui fait tout dans les 
 esprits aussi- bien que dans les corps. Peut-on dire que Dieu fait les 
 changemens qui anivent dans la matifere, et qu'il ne fait pas ceux qui 
 arrivent dans l'esprit ? Est-ce rendre li Dieu ce qui lui appartient, que 
 d'abandonner k sa disposition les derniers des etres? N'est-il pas egale- 
 ment le raaitre de toutes choses ? N'est-il pas la createur, le conserva- 
 teur, le seul veritable moteur des esprits aussi bien que des corps? 
 Certainement il fait tout, substances, accidens, etres, maniferes. Car 
 
 2h2
 
 468 REMARKS UPON SOME OF MR. NORRIS'S BOOKS. 
 
 16. A man cannot move his arm or his tongue; he has no 
 power; only upon occasion, the man wilHng it, God moves 
 it. Then man wills, he cloth something; or else God, upon 
 the occasion of something which he himself did before, pro- 
 
 enfin il connolt tout; mais il ne connoit que ce qu'il fait. On lui ote 
 done sa connaissance, si on borne son action." (Eclaircissement sur le 
 troisieme livre, t. iii. p. 124.) This doctrine Mr. Robert Owen, in his 
 Book of the New Moral World, also teaches, with the characteristic 
 omission of certain teiTOS. "The feelings and convictions expeiienced 
 by man are not produced or regulated by his will, but are the necessary 
 effects of the action of circumstances upon his physical and mental 
 nature. Hitherto the world has been governed under the supposition 
 that the feelings and convictions have been produced by the choice of 
 the individual, and that they are under the control of what is called 
 free-ivill. The languages of all nations are filled with the terms, that 
 you must love or hate, believe or disbelieve certain qualities and creeds, 
 or if you disobey, you will be punished here and hereafter ; and for so 
 loving, hating, believing, or disbelieving, men are now praised and 
 rewarded, as though there were great merit in so doing. Yet, from an in- 
 vestigation of the facts connected with this subject, it appears that the 
 feelings and convictions are iiistincts of human nature, — instincts which 
 every one is compelled to possess or receive, — and for which no man can 
 have merit or demerit, or deserve reward or punishment." (chap. iii. p. 7.) 
 The doctrine of Hobbes, from whom the philosophers of Mr. Owen's 
 school appear to have boiTOwed so much, does not quite square with the 
 modern hypothesis on the subject of human laws. Hobbes maintains, 
 indeed, that man acts under the impulse of dire necessity ; but argues, 
 pleasantly enough, that he may, notwithstanding, be very justly punished 
 for what he does : first, because all laws are just ; and second, because 
 his example may deter others, though they also be of course obnoxious 
 to the force of necessity. Let us, however, hear his own exposition, 
 which places the absurdity of his reasoning in a more striking light than 
 almost any other language could do. "The necessity," he says, " of an 
 action, doth not make the laws which prohibit it unjust. To let pass, 
 that not the necessity, but the will, to break the law, maketh the action 
 unjust ; because the law regardeth the will, and no other precedent 
 causes of action. And to let pass, that no law can possibly be unjust ; 
 inasmuch as every man maketh (l^y his consent) the law he is bound to 
 keep ; and which consequently must be just, unless a man can be un- 
 just to himself. I say, what necessaiy cause soever precede an action, 
 yet if the action be forbidden, he that doth it willingly may be justly 
 punished. For instance, suppose the law, on pain of death, prohibit 
 stealing ; and that there be a man who by the strength of temptation is 
 necessitated to steal, and is thereupon put to death ; does not this 
 punishment deter others from theft ? Is it not a cause that others 
 steal not ? Doth it not frame and make their wiUs to justice ? To 
 make the law is, therefore, to make a cause of justice, and to necessitate 
 justice : and consequently, 'tis no injustice to make such a law." (Of 
 Liberty and Necessity, English Works, vol. iv. p. 25-2, Molesworth'a ' 
 edition.) — Ed.
 
 REMARKS UPOX SOME OF MR. NORRIS'S BOOKS. 469 
 
 duced this will and this action in him. This is the hy)3o- 
 thesis that clears doubts, and brings us at last to the religion 
 of Hobbes and Spinoza; by resolving all, even the thoughts 
 and will of men, into an irresistible fatal necessity. For 
 whether the original of it be from the continued motion of 
 eternal all-doing matter, or from an omnipotent immaterial 
 Being, which having begun matter and motion, continues it 
 by the direction of occasimis, which he himself has also made : 
 as to religion and morality, it is just the same thing. But we 
 must know how everything is brought to pass, and thus we 
 have it resolved without leaving any difficulty to perplex us. 
 But perhaps it would better become us to acknowledge our 
 ignorance, than to talk such things boldly of the Holy One 
 of Israel, and condemn others for not daring to be as unman- 
 nerly as ourselves. 
 
 17. Ideas may be real beings, though not substances; as 
 motion is a real being, though not a substance ; and it seems 
 probable that, in us, ideas depend on, and are some way or 
 other the effect of motion ; since they are so fleeting, it being, 
 as I have elsewhere observed, so hard and almost impossible 
 to keep in our minds the same unvaried idea long together, 
 unless when the object that produces it is present to the 
 senses; from which the same motion that first produced it, 
 being continued, the idea itself may continue. 
 
 18. To excuse, therefore, the ignorance I have owned of. 
 what our ideas are, any further than as they are perceptions 
 we experiment in ourselves; and the dull, uuphilosophical 
 way I have taken of examining their production, only so far 
 as experience and observation lead me, wherein my dim sight 
 went not beyond sensation and reflection. 
 
 19. Truth'^ lies only in propositions. The foundation of 
 this truth is the relation that is between our ideas. The 
 knowledge of truth is that perception of the relation between 
 our ideas to be as it is expressed. 
 
 20. The irmnutahility of essences lies in the same sounds, 
 supposed to stand for the same ideas. These things considered, 
 would have saved this learned discourse. 
 
 21. Whatever exists, whether in God or out of God, is 
 singida/r.\ 
 
 22. If no propositions should be made, there would be no 
 
 * See Reason and Religion, &c. Part II. Contemp. II. § 29, p. 204. 
 t Ibid., 30, p. 206.
 
 470 REMARKS UPON SOME OF MR. NORRIs's BOOKS. 
 
 truth nor falsehood; though the same relations still between 
 the same ideas, is a foundation of the immutability of truth* 
 in the same propositions, whenever made. 
 
 23. What wonder is it that the same ideat should always 
 be the same idea? For if the word triangle be supposed to 
 have the same signification always, that is all this amounts to. 
 
 24. I "desii'e to know| what things they are that God 
 has prepared for them that love him?" Therefore I have 
 some knowledge of them already, though they be such as 
 " eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the 
 heart of man to conceive." 
 
 25. If I " have all things actually present to my mind," 
 why do I not know all things distinctly? 
 
 2Q. He that considers || the force of such ways of speaking 
 as these : " I desire it — pray give it me — She was afraid of 
 the snake, and ran away trembling" — will easily conceive 
 how the meaning of the words desire and fear, and so all 
 those which stand for intellectual notions, may be taught by 
 words of sensible significations. 
 
 27. This, however otherwise in experience, should be so 
 on this hypothesis : v. g., the uniformity of the ideas that 
 difierent men have "when they use such words as these, 
 glory, worship, religion, are clear proofs that " God exhibited 
 to their minds that part of the ideal world as is signified by 
 that sign." 
 
 1'^. Strange ! that truth, being in any question but one, 
 the more we discover of it the more uniform our judgments 
 should be about ii.'IT 
 
 29. This argues that the ground of it is the always immu- 
 table relations of the same ideas. Several ideas that •we 
 have once got acquainted with, we can revive, and so they 
 are jiresent to us when we please; but the knowledge of 
 their relations, so as to know what we may aflfirm or deny of 
 them, is not always present to our minds ; but we often miss 
 truth, even after study. But in many, and possibly not the 
 fewest, we have neither the ideas nor the truth constantly, or 
 so much as at all j^^esent to our minds. 
 
 And I think, I may, without any disparagement to the 
 author, doubt whether he ever had, or with all his apjjlica- 
 
 * See Reason and Religion, &c. Part II. Contemp. II. ^ 32, p. 207. 
 t Ibid. 6 33 p. 208, 209. J Ibid. <S 34, p. 210. 
 
 II Ibid. ^^ 35, p. 211—213. H Ibid. \ 36, p. 214.
 
 REMARKS UPON SOME OF MR. NORRIS'S BOOKS. 471 
 
 tion ever would have, the ideas or truths present to the mind, 
 that Mr. Newton had in writing his book. 
 
 30. This section* supposes we are better acquainted with 
 God's understanding than our own. But this pretty argu- 
 ment would perhaps look as smilingly thus : We are like God 
 in our understandings ; he sees what he sees by ideas in his 
 
 'own mind : therefore we see what we see by ideas that are in 
 our own minds. 
 
 31. These texts t do not prove that we shall "hereafter 
 see all things in God." There will be objects in a future 
 state, and we shall have bodies and senses. 
 
 32. Is he, whilst we see through the veil of om- mortal flesh 
 here, intimately present to our minds'? 
 
 33. To think of anything, | is to contemplate that precise 
 idea. The idea of being in genercd, is the idea of being ab- 
 stracted from whatever may limit or determine it to any 
 inferior species; so that he that thinks always of being in 
 ge/ieral, thinks never of any particular species of being; 
 unless he can think of it with and without precision at the 
 same time. But if he means that he thinks of being in 
 general, whenever he thinks of this or that particular being, 
 or sort of being; then it is certain he may always think 
 of being in general, till he can find out a way of thinking on 
 nothing. 
 
 34. Being in general, is being || abstracted from wisdom, 
 goodness, power, and any particular sort of duration; and I 
 have as true an idea of being, when these are excluded out 
 of it, as when extension, place, solidity, and mobility ai'e 
 excluded out of my idea. And therefore, if behig in gene^-al, 
 and God, be tlie same, I have a true idea of God when I 
 exclude out of it power, goodness, wisdom, and eternity. 
 
 35. As if there was no differenced between "man's being 
 his own light," and " not seeing things in God." Man may 
 be enlightened by God, though it be not by "seeing all 
 things in God." 
 
 The finishing of these hasty thoughts must be deferred to 
 another season. 
 
 Gates, 1693. JOHN LOCKE. 
 
 * See Reason and Eeligion, &c. Part II. Contemp. II. ^ 37, t). 215. 
 t Ibid. $ 38, p. 216, 217. X Ibid. $ 39, p. 217, 218. 
 
 II Ibid. § 40, p. 219. U Ibid. } 43, p. 223.
 
 ELEMENTS OP 
 
 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 [I AM not acquainted with a better compendium of natural philosophy thair 
 this. The science, no doubt, has received very great improvements since 
 the time of Locke, but his exposition of it is still sufficiently exact for 
 all practical purposes. The explanations of terms are brief, correct, and 
 intelligible ; and the accounts of the grander phenomena of the universe, 
 though designed only as incentives to inquiry, are such as to open up 
 very magnificent prospects before the mind. As it would be prepos- 
 terous to render that long by annotation which the author expressly made 
 short and simple, that it might be the more easily comprehended and 
 the substance of it lodged firmly in the memory, I shall trouble the 
 reader with very few notes. — Ed. ] 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OF MATTER AND MOTION. 
 
 Matter is an extended solid substance; whicli being com- 
 prehended under distinct surfaces, makes so many particular 
 distinct bodies. 
 
 Motion is so -well known by the sight and touch, that to 
 use words to give a clearer idea of it would be in vain. 
 
 Matter, or body, is indifferent to motion or rest. 
 
 There is as much force required to put a body, which is in 
 motion, at rest ; as there is to set a body, which is at rest, 
 into motion. 
 
 No parcel of matter can give itself either motion or rest, 
 and therefore a body at rest will remain so eternally, ex- 
 cept some external cause puts it in motion ; and a body in 
 motion will move eternally, unless some external cause 
 stops it, 
 
 A body in motion will always move on in a straight line, 
 unless it be turned out of it by some external cause, because 
 a body can no more alter the determination of its motion 
 than it can begin, alter, or stop, its motion itself. 
 
 The swiftness of motion is measured by distance of place 
 and length of time wherein it is performed. For instance, 
 if A and B, bodies of equal or different bigness, move each
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PIIILOSOOHY. 473 
 
 of them an inch in the same time, their motions are equally 
 swift; but if A moves two inches in the time whilst B 
 is moving one inch, the motion of A is twice as swift as that 
 ofB. 
 
 The quantity of motion is measured by the swiftness of 
 the motion,* and the quantity of the matter moved, taken 
 together. For instance, if A, a body equal to B, moves as 
 swift as B, then it hath an eqvial quantity of motion. If 
 A hath t^vice as much matter as B, and moves equally as 
 swift, it hath double the quantity of motion, and so in 
 proportion. 
 
 It appears, as far as human observation reaches, to be a 
 settled law of natui'e, that all bodies have a tendency, attrac- 
 tion, or gravitation towards one another. 
 
 The same force, applied to two different bodies, produces 
 always the same quantity of motion in each of them. For 
 instance, let a boat which with its lading is one ton, be tied 
 at a distance to another vessel, which with its lading is 
 twenty-six tons; if the rope that ties them together be pulled, 
 either in the less or bigger of these vessels, the less of the 
 two, in their approach one to another, will move twenty-six 
 feet, wliile the other moves but one foot. 
 
 Wherefore the quantity of matter in the earth being 
 twenty-six times more than in the moon, the motion in the 
 moon towards 'the earth, by the common force of attraction, 
 by which they are impelled towards one another, will be 
 twenty-six times as fast as in the eai'th; that is, the moon 
 ■will move twenty-six miles towards the earth, for every mile 
 the earth moves towards the moon. 
 
 Hence it is, that, in this natural tendency of bodies to- 
 wards one another, that in the lesser is considered as gravita- 
 tion, and that in the bigger as attraction,t because the motion 
 
 * Whether this be consistent with the received theory of motion is 
 more than I can say, but it appears to me to be a fallacy ; for motion 
 having reference to the space traversed, and the time in which the transit 
 is performed, there is as much motion in an ounce ball which traverses 
 five hundred yards in a given number of seconds as in a pound ball 
 which traverses the same distance in the same time, though the motive 
 power which set the matter in motion must be evidently greater than 
 that which imparted motion to the former. Locke, therefore, appears 
 here to confound motion with the motive power; that is, if I apprehend 
 his meaning exactly. — Ed. 
 
 t Besides the works of Sir Isaac Newton and the more modem phi-
 
 474 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 of the lesser body (by reason of its much greater swiftness) 
 is alone taken notice of 
 
 This attraction is the strongest the nearer the attracting 
 bodies are to each other ; and, in different distances of the same 
 bodies, is reciprocally in the duplicate proportion of those 
 distances. For instance, if two bodies, at a given distance, 
 attract each other with a certain force, at half the distance 
 they will attract each other with four times that force; at 
 one third of the distance, with nine times that force; and 
 so on. 
 
 Two bodies at a distance will put one another into motion 
 by the force of attraction ; which is inexplicable by us, though 
 made evident to us by experience, and so to be taken as a 
 principle in natural philosophy. 
 
 Supposing then the earth the sole body in the universe, 
 and at rest; if God should create the moon, at the same dis- 
 tance that it is now from the earth, the earth and the moon 
 would presently begin to move one towards another in a 
 straight line by this motion of attraction or gravitation. 
 
 If a body, that by the attraction of another would move 
 in a straight line towards it, receives a new motion any ways 
 obHque to the first, it will no longer move in a straight Kne, 
 according to either of those directions, but in a cuiwe that 
 will partake of both. And this curve will differ, according 
 to the nature and quantity of the forces that concurred to 
 produce it; as, for instance, in many cases it will be such 
 a curve as ends where it began, or recurs into itself: that 
 is, makes up a circle, or an ellipsis* or oval very little differ- 
 ing from a circle. 
 
 losophers, to which the reader will refer on this subject, it may be worth 
 while to examine the previous speculation of Hobbes, in which the same 
 theoiy is developed, though with less method and completeness. (Ele^ 
 ments of Philosophy, Part IV. c. xxx. § 2. See also Lord Bacon, Sylva 
 Sylvarum, 703-4.)— Ed. 
 
 * Kepler seems to have been the first who observed that the planets 
 may move in ellipses; but it was reserved for Sir Isaac Newton to 
 demonstrate the truth of this observation. The reader will find this de- 
 monstration in Lord King's Life of Locke, vol. i. p. 389, etseq., "where," 
 in the opinion of his Lordship, "the lemmas which are prefixed are 
 expressed in a more explanatory form than those of the Principia usually 
 are." — Ed. .
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 475 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OF THE UNIVERSE. 
 
 To any one, who looks about him in the world, there are 
 obvious several distinct masses of matter, separate from one 
 another ; some whereof have discernible motions. These are 
 the sun, the fixed stars, the comets and the planets, amongst 
 which this earth, which we inJiabit, is one. All these are 
 visible to our naked eyes. 
 
 Besides these, telescopes have discovered several fixed stars, 
 invisible to the naked eye; and several other bodies moving 
 about some of the planets ; all which were invisible and un- 
 known, befoi-e the use of perspective glasses were found. 
 
 The vast distances between these great bodies ai-e called 
 intermundane spaces; in which though there may be some 
 fluid matter, yet it is so thin and subtile, and there is so little 
 of that in respect of the great masses that move in those 
 spaces, that it is as much as nothing. 
 
 These masses of matter are either luminous, or opaque or 
 dark. 
 
 Luminous bodies, are such as give light of themselves; 
 and such are the sun and the fixed stars. 
 
 Dark or opaque bodies are such as emit no light of them- 
 selves, though they are capable of reflecting of it, when it is 
 cast upon them from other bodies; and such are the planets. 
 
 There are some opaque bodies, as for instance the comets, 
 which, besides the Light that they may have from the sun, 
 seem to shine with a light that is nothing else but an 
 accension, which they receive from the sun, in their near 
 approaches to it, in their respective revolutions. 
 
 The fixed stars are called fixed, because they always keep 
 the same distance one from another. 
 
 The sun, at the same distance from us that the fixed stars 
 are, would have the appearance of one of the fixed stars. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF OUR SOLAR SYSTEM. 
 
 Our solar system consists of the sun, and the planets and 
 comets mo\'ing about it.
 
 476 
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL THILOSOPHY. 
 
 The planets are bodies, which appear to us like stars; nc 
 that they are luminous bodies, that is, have light in then 
 selves ; but they shine by reflecting the light of the sun. 
 
 They are called planets from a Greek word, which signifie 
 wandering; because they change their places, and do nc 
 always keep the same distance with one another, nor wit 
 the fixed stars, as the fixed stars do. 
 
 The planets are either primary, or secondary. 
 
 There are six primary planets,* viz.. Mercury, Vemis, thi 
 Earth, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. 
 
 All these move round the sun, which is, as it were, th 
 centre of their motions. 
 
 The secondary planets move round about other planefe 
 Besides the moon, which moves about the earth, four moon 
 move about Jupiter, and five about Saturn,t which are callc 
 their satellites. 
 
 The middle distances of the primary planets from the sui 
 are as follows : — 
 
 Mercury 
 
 Venus 
 
 The Earth 
 
 Mars 
 
 Jupiter 
 
 Saturn 
 
 Is distant 
 from the 
 sun's cen- 
 tre, about 
 
 32,000,0001 „, , . ., 
 59,000,000 Statute miles, 
 
 81,000,000 eacn .^^»^ 
 
 123 000,000 f,7l^^^^^^, 
 
 424;000;000 ^^^^ ^""'"^ 
 
 777,000,000 
 
 feet. 
 
 The orbits of the planets, and their respective distance; 
 from the sun and from one another, together with the orbi 
 of a comet, may be seen in the figure of the solar systen 
 hei'eunto annexed.;}; 
 
 The periodical times of each planet's revolution about th* 
 sun are as follows : — 
 
 * The number now discovered amounts to twenty- three. Of these, 
 twelve have been discovered since the year 1845,. eleven of them ro- 
 tating between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter ; the remaining one is 
 the planet Neptune, exterior to all the rest, and whose discovery is one 
 of the greatest intellectual triumphs of the present age. — Ed. 
 
 t Saturn has been found by modern astronomers to possess eight 
 moons, besides his luminous belts ; and Uranus certainly has four 
 moons, if not more. — Ed. 
 
 i The engraving alluded to, being now commonly found in all ele- 
 mentary treatises on the subject, has been omitted. — -Ed.
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 477 
 
 Y. D. 
 
 H. M. 
 
 Mercury 
 
 Venus 
 
 The Earth 
 
 Mars 
 
 Jupiter 
 
 Saturn 
 
 Revolves 
 about the 
 Sun, in 
 the space 
 of 
 
 f 
 
 88 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 225 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 365 
 
 5 
 
 49 
 
 1 
 
 322 
 
 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 319 
 
 
 
 
 
 29 
 
 138 
 
 
 
 
 
 The planets move round about the sun from west to east 
 in the zodiac, or, to speak plainer, are always foimd amongst 
 some of the stars of those constellations, which make the 
 twelve signs of the zodiac. 
 
 The motion of the planets about the sun is not perfectly 
 circular, but rather elliptical. 
 
 The reason of their motions in curve lines is the attraction 
 of the sun, or their gravitations towards the sun, (call it 
 which you please,) and an oblique or sidelong impulse or 
 motion. 
 
 These two motions or tendencies, the one always endea- 
 vouring to carry them in a straight line from the circle they 
 move in, and the other endeavouring to di'aw them in a 
 straight line to the sim, makes that curve line they re- 
 volve in. 
 
 The motion of the comets about the sun is in a veiy long 
 slender oval; whereof one of the focuses is the centre of the 
 sun, and the other very much beyond the sphere of Saturn. 
 
 The moon moves about the earth, as the earth doth about 
 the sun; so that it hath the centre of its motion in the 
 earth ; as the earth hath the centre of its revolution in the 
 sun, about which it moves. 
 
 The moon makes its synodical motion about the earth, in 
 twenty-nine days, twelve hours, and about forty-four minutes. 
 
 It is full moon, when, the earth being between the sun and 
 the moon, we see all the enlightened part of the moon ; new 
 moon, when, the moon being between us and the sun, its 
 enlightened part is turned from us; and half moon, when 
 the moon being in the quadratures, as the astronomers call 
 it, we see but half the enlightened part. 
 
 An eclipse of the moon is, when the earth, being between 
 the sun and the moon, hinders the light of the sun from 
 falling upon, and being reflected by the moon. If the light 
 of the sun is kept off fi'om the whole body of the moon,
 
 478 EDEMENTS OF NATURAL PUILOSOPHY. 
 
 it is a total eclipse; if from a part only, it is a jDartial 
 oae. 
 
 An eclipse of the sun is, when the moon, being between 
 the sun and the earth, hinders the light of the sun from 
 coming to us. If the moon hides from us the whole body 
 of the sun, it is a total eclipse ; if not, a partial one. 
 
 Our solar system is distant from the fixed stars 
 20,000,000,000 semi-diameters of the earth; or, as Mr. 
 Huygens expresses this distance, in his Cosmotheoros : * the 
 fixed stars are so remote from the earth, that, if a cannon- 
 bullet should come from one of the fixed stars with as swift 
 a motion as it hath when it is shot out of the mouth of a 
 cannon, it would be 700,000 years in coming to the earth. 
 
 This vast distance so much abates the attraction of those 
 remote bodies, that its operation upon those of oui' system is 
 not at all sensible, nor would draw away or hinder the return 
 of any of our solar comets; though some of them should go 
 so far from the sun, as not to make the revolution about it 
 in less than 1000 years. 
 
 It is more suitable to the wisdom, power, and greatness of 
 God, to think that the fixed stars are all of them suns, -svith 
 systems of inhabitable planets moving about them, to whose 
 inhabitants he displays the marks of his goodness, as well as 
 to us ; rather than to imagine that those very remote bodies, 
 so little useful to us, were made only for our sake. 
 
 CHAPTEU IV. 
 
 OF THE EARTH, CONSIDERED AS A PLANET. 
 
 The earth, by its revolution about the sun in three hun- 
 dred and sixty-five days, five hours, forty-nine minutes, 
 makes that space of time we call a year. 
 
 The Hne, which the centre of the earth describes in its 
 annual revolution about the sun, is called ecliptic. 
 
 The annual motion of the earth about the sun, is in the 
 order of the signs of the zodiac; that is, speaking vulgarly, 
 from west to east. 
 
 Besides this annual revolution of the earth about the sun 
 
 * Cliristiani Hugenii KOSMOeEQPOS, sive de Tenis Ccelestibus 
 earumque ornatu conjecture, &c., p. m. 137.
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 479 
 
 iu the ecliptic, the eai'th tiims round upon its own axis in 
 twenty-four houi's. 
 
 The tui-ning of the earth upon its own axis every twenty- 
 four hours, whilst it moves round the sun in a year, we may 
 conceive by the running of a bowl on a bowling-green ; in 
 which not only the centre of the bowl hath a progressive 
 motion on the green ; but the bowl in its going forward from 
 one part of the gi'een to another, turns roimd about its 
 own axis. 
 
 The tm-ning of the earth upon its own axis, makes the 
 difference of day and night; it being day in those parts of 
 the earth which ai'e turned towards the sun, and night in 
 those parts which are in the shade, or turned from the sun. 
 
 The annual revolution of the earth in the ecliptic is the 
 cause of the diffei-ent seasons, and of the several lengths of 
 days and nights, in every part of the world, in the course of 
 the year. 
 
 The reason of it is the earth's going round its own axis in 
 the eclij^tic, but at the same time keeping everywhere its 
 axis equally inclined to the plane of the ecliptic, and jiarallel 
 to itself For the plane of the ecliptic inclining to the plane 
 of the equator twenty-three degrees and a half, makes that 
 the earth, moving round in the ecliptic, hath sometimes one 
 of its poles, and sometimes the other, nearer the sun. 
 
 If the diameter of the sun be to the diameter of the earth 
 as forty-eight to one, as by some it is accoxmted, then the 
 disk of the sun, speaking numero rotundo, is above 2000 
 times bigger than the disk of the earth ; and the globe of the 
 sun above 100,000 times bigger than the globe of the earth. 
 
 The distance of the earth's orbit from the sun is above 
 20,000 semi-diameters of the earth. 
 
 If a cannon bullet should come from the sun with the same 
 velocity it hath when it is shot out of the mouth of a cannon, 
 it would be twenty-five yeai's in coming to the earth. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 OF THE AIR AND ATMOSPHERE. 
 
 We have already considered the earth as a planet, or one 
 of the great masses of matter moving about the sun ; we shall
 
 480 ELEMENTS OP NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 now consider it as it is made up of its several parts, abstract- 
 edly from its diurnal and annual motions. 
 
 The exterior part of this our habitable world is the air or 
 atmosphere ; a Ught, thin fluid, or springy body, that encom- 
 passes the solid earth on all sides. 
 
 The height of the atmosphere, above the surface of the solid 
 earth, is not certainly known; but that it doth reach but to 
 a very small part of the distance betwixt the earth and the 
 moon, may be concluded from the refraction of the rays 
 coming from the sun, moon, and other luminous bodies. 
 
 Though considering that the air we are in, being near 1000 
 times lighter than water, and that the higher it is, the less it 
 is compressed by the superior incumbent air, and so con- 
 sequently being a springy body the thinner it is; and con- 
 sidering also that a pillar of air of any diameter is equal in 
 weight to a pillar of quicksilver of the same diameter of 
 between twenty-nine and thirty inches height; we may infer 
 that the top of the atmosphere is not very near the surface of 
 the solid earth. 
 
 It may be concluded, that the utmost extent of the atmo- 
 sphere reaches upwards from the surface of the solid earth 
 that we walk on, to a good distance above us; first, if we 
 consider that a column of air of any given diameter is equi- 
 ponderant to a column of quicksilver of between twenty-nine 
 and thirty inches height. Now, quicksilver being near four- 
 teen times heavier than water, if air was as heavy as water, 
 the atmosphere would be about foui-teen times higher than 
 the column of quicksilver, i. e., about thirty-five feet. 
 
 Secondly, if we consider that air is 1000 times lighter than 
 water, then a pillar of air equal in weight to a pillar of 
 quicksilver of thirty inches high will be 35,000 feet; whereby 
 we come to know that the air or atmosphere is 35,000 feet, 
 i. e., near seven miles high. 
 
 Thirdly, if we consider that the air is a springy body, and 
 that that which is nearest the earth is compressed by the 
 weight of all the atmosphere that is above it, and rests per- 
 pendicularly upon it, we shall find that the air here, near the 
 surface of the earth, is much denser and thicker than it is in 
 the upper parts. For example, if upon a fleece of wool you 
 lay another, the under one will be a little compressed by the 
 weight of that which lies upon it ; aud so both of them by a
 
 ELEMENTS OP NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 481 
 
 third, and so on; so that if 10,000 were piled one upon an- 
 other, the under one would, by the weight of all the rest, be 
 veiy much compressed, and all the parts of it be brought 
 abundantly closer together than when there was no other 
 upon it, and the next to that a little less compressed, the 
 third a little less than the second, and so on till it came to 
 the uppermost, which would be in its full expansion, and not 
 compressed at all. Just so it is in the aii-, the higher you go 
 in it, the less it is compressed, and consequently the less 
 dense it is ; and so the upper part being exceedingly thinner 
 than the lower part, which we breathe in, (which is that that 
 is 1000 times lighter than water,) the top of the atmosphere 
 is probably much higher than the distance above assigned. 
 
 That the air near the surface of the earth will mightily 
 expand itself, when the pressure of the incumbent atmosphere 
 is taken off, may be aoundantly seen in the experiments 
 made by Mr. Boyle in his pneumatic engine. In his " Physico- 
 mechanical Experiments," concerning the air, he declares* it 
 probable that the atmosphere may be several hundred miles 
 high; which is easy to be admitted, when we consider what 
 he proves in another part of the same treatise, viz., that the 
 air here about the surface of the earth, when the pressure is 
 taken from it, will dilate itself about one hundred and fifty- 
 two times. 
 
 The atmosphere is the scene of the meteors; and therein 
 is collected the matter of rain, hail, snow, thunder, and 
 lightning; and a great many other things observable in 
 the air. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OF METEORS IN GENERAL. 
 
 Besides the springy particles of pure air, the atmosphere 
 is made up of several steams or minute particles of several 
 sorts, rising from the earth and the waters, and floating in 
 the air, which is a fluid body, and though much finer and 
 thinner, may be considered in respect of its fluidity to be 
 
 * New Experiments Physico- mechanical, touching the Spring of the 
 Air, and its effects; (made for the most part in a new Pneumatical 
 Engine ;) written by the Honourable Kobert Boyle. Experiment xxxvi. 
 p. 155. Oxford, 1662. 4to. 
 
 2 I
 
 482 ELEMENTS ON NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 like water, and so capable, like other liquoi'S, of having hete- 
 rogeneous particles floating in it. 
 
 The most remarkable of them are : first, the particles of 
 water raised into the atmosphere, chiefly by the heat of the 
 sun, out of the sea and other waters, and the surface of the 
 earth, from whence it falls in dew,* rain, hail, and snow. 
 
 Out of the vapours rising from moisture, the clouds are 
 principally made. 
 
 Clouds do not consist wholly of watery pai"ts; for, besides 
 the aqueous vapours that are raised into the air, there are 
 also sulphureous and saline particles that are raised up, and 
 in the clouds mixed with the aqueous particles, the efiects 
 whereof are sometimes very sensible ; as particularly in light- 
 ning and thunder, when the sulphureous and nitrous par- 
 ticles firing, break out with that violence of light and noise, 
 which is observable in thunder, and very much resembles 
 gunpowder. 
 
 That there are nitrous particles + raised into the air is 
 evident from the nourishment which rain gives to vegetables 
 more than any other water; and also by the collection of 
 nitre or saltpetre in heaps of earth, out of which it has been 
 extracted, if they be exposed to the air, so as to be kept from 
 rain, not to mention other eflforts, wherein the nitrous spirit 
 in the air shows itself. 
 
 Clouds are the gi-eatest and most considerable of all the 
 meteors, as furnishing matter and jilenty to the earth. They 
 consist of very small drops of water, and are elevated a good 
 distance above the surface of the earth ; for a cloud is no- 
 thing but a mist flying liigh in the air, as a mist is nothing 
 but a cloud here below. 
 
 How vapours are raised into the air in invisible steams 
 by the heat of the sun out of the sea and moist parts of the 
 earth, is easily understood, and there is a visible instance of 
 it in ordinary distillations. But how these steams are col- 
 lected into drops, which bring back the water again, is not 
 so easy to determine. 
 
 * See Dr. Well's Treatise on the Production and Nature of Dew. — Ed. 
 
 t The presence of nitre in the atmosphere is nowhere perhaps so pal- 
 pable as in Egypt, where it occasions the sudden chilliness of the nights, 
 and may be the cause of that corrosiveness of the air which had already 
 been remarked in the time of Herodotus. (Book ii. § 12.) — Ed.
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 483 
 
 To those that will carefully obsen-e, perhaps it will appear 
 probable that it is by that which the chemists call precipi- 
 tation, to which it answers in all its parts. 
 
 The air may be looked on as a clear and pellucid menstruum, 
 in which the insensible j^articles of dissolved matter float up 
 and down, without being discerned or troubling the pelluci- 
 dity of the air; when on a sudden, as if it were by a precipi- 
 tation, they gather into the very small but visible misty drops 
 that make clouds. 
 
 This may be observed sometimes in a very clear sky, when, 
 there not appearing any cloud or anything ojiaque in the 
 whole horizon, one may see on a sudden clouds gather, and 
 all the hemisphere overcast ; which cannot be from the rising 
 of new aqueous vapours at that time, but from the precipi- 
 tation of the moisture, that in invisible particles floated in 
 the ah", into veiy small, but very visible drops, which by a 
 like cause being united into gi-eater drops, they become too 
 heavy to be sustained in the air, and so fall down in rain. 
 
 Hail* seems to be the drops of rain frozen in their falling. 
 
 Snow is the small particles of water frozen before they 
 unite into drops. 
 
 The regular figures, which branch out in flakes of snow, 
 seem to show that there are some particles of salt mixed 
 with the water, which makes them unite in certain angles. 
 
 The rainbow is reckoned one of the most remarkable 
 meteors, though really it be no meteor at all, but the re- 
 flection of the sunbeams from the smallest drops of a cloud 
 or mist, which are placed in a certain angle made by tiie 
 concurrence of two lines, one drawn from the sun, and the 
 other from the eye, to these little drops in the cloud, which 
 reflect the sunbeams;' sp that two people, lookmg upon a 
 rainbow at the same time, do not see exactly the same rain- 
 bow. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OF SPRINGS, RIVERS, AND THE SEA. 
 
 Part of the water that falls down from the clouds runs 
 away upon the sui-face of the earth into channels, which con- 
 
 * On the physical causes of congelation see Hobbes' £Iements of 
 Natural Philosoph}-, Part IV. c. xxviii. § 9.— Ed. 
 
 2i2
 
 484 ELEMENTS OF NATUKAL PHILOSOPHY 
 
 vey it to the sea; and paii; of it is imbibed in the spongy 
 shell of the eai-th, from whence, sinking lower by degrees, it 
 falls down into subterranean channels, and so underground 
 passes into th« sea; or else, meeting with beds of rock or 
 clay, it is hindered from sinking lower, and so breaks out in 
 springs,* which are most commonly in the sides or at the 
 bottom of hilly ground. 
 
 Springs make little rivulets; those united make brooks; 
 and those coming together make rivers, which empty them- 
 selves into the sea. 
 
 The sea is a great collection of waters in the deep valleys 
 of the earth. If the eai-th were all plain, and had not those 
 deep hollows, the earth would be all covered with water; 
 because the water, being lighter than the earth, would be 
 above the earth, as the air is above the water. 
 
 The most remarkable thing in the sea is that motion of 
 the water called tides.t It is a rising and falling of the 
 water of the sea. The cause of this is the attraction of the 
 moon, whereby the part of the water in the great ocean 
 which is nearest the moon, being most strongly attracted, is 
 raised higher than the rest; and the part opposite to it on 
 the contrary side, being least attracted, is also higher than 
 the rest. And these two opposite rises of the surface of the 
 water in the great ocean, following the motion of the moon 
 :from east to west, and striking against the large coasts of the 
 continents that lie in its way, from thence rebounds back 
 again, and so makes floods and ebbs in narrow seas, and 
 rivers remote from the gi-eat ocean. Herein we also see the 
 reason of the times of the tides, and why they so constantly 
 follow the course of the moon. 
 
 * On the origin of springs and rivers see Hobbes' Elements of Philo- 
 sophy, Part IV. c. xxviii. § 18. Connected with this subject, however, 
 there are several difficulties which had not apparently presented them- 
 selves to the mind of the great philosopher of Malmesbury. See in 
 Spallanzani's Travels in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, vol. iv. p. 
 136 ; and in M. M. Dolomieu's Voyage aux Isles de Lipari, p. 120, the 
 account of a perennial spring in the Eolian Islands, the existence of 
 which can scarcely be explained according to the principles laid down 
 by Hobbes and Locke. — Ed. 
 
 t On the subject of tides see the somewhat rare treatise of Isaac Vos- 
 sius concerning the motion of the Seas and the Winds, c. yiii. p. 96 ; 
 and compare with his theory the notions of Hobbes. (Elements of Phi- 
 losophy, Part IV. c. xxvi. § 10.) — Ed.
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAX PHILOSOPHY. 4Sc 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OF SE\TERAL SORTS OF EARTH, STONES, METALS, MINERALS, 
 AND OTHER FOSSILS. 
 
 This solid globe ■we live upon is called the earth, though 
 it contains in it a great variety of bodies, several whereof 
 are not properly earth ; which word, taken in a more limited 
 sense, signifies such parts of this globe as are capable, being 
 exposed to the air, to give rooting and nourishment to plants, 
 so that they may stand and grow in it. With such earth as 
 this, the greatest part of the surface of this globe is covered ; 
 and it is, as it were, the storehouse from whence all the living 
 creatures of our world have originally their provisions; for 
 from thence all the plants have their sustenance, and some 
 few animals, and from these all the other animals. 
 
 Of earth, taken in tliis sense, there are several sorts, v. g., 
 common mould, or garden earth, clay of several kinds, sandy 
 soils. 
 
 Besides these, there is medicinal earth; as that which is 
 called terra lemnia, bolus armena, and divers others. 
 
 After the several earths, we may consider the parts of the 
 surface of this globe, which are barren; and such, for the 
 most part, are sand, gravel, chalk, and rocks, which produce 
 nothing, where they have no earth mixed among them. 
 Barren sands are of divers kinds, and consist of several little 
 irregular stones without any earth; and of such there are 
 great deserts to be seen in several parts of the world. 
 
 Besides these, which are most remarkable on the surface 
 of the earth, there are found, deeper in this globe, many 
 other bodies, which, because we discover by digging into the 
 bowels of the earth, are called by one common name, fossils ; 
 under which are comprehended metals, minerals, or half 
 metals, stones of divers kinds, and sundry bodies that have 
 the texture between earth and stone. 
 
 To begin with those fossils which come nearest the earth : 
 under this head we may reckon the several sorts of ochre, 
 chalk, that which they call black-lead, and other bodies of 
 this kind, which are harder than earth, but have not the 
 consistency and hardness of perfect stone. 
 
 Next to these may be considered stones of all sorts,
 
 486 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 whereof there is almost an iniinite variety. Some of the 
 most remarkable, eitlaer for beauty or use, are these : marble 
 of all kinds, porphyry, gi-anite, freestone, &c., flints, agates, 
 cornelians, pebbles, under which kind come the precious 
 stones, which are but pebbles of an excessive hardness, and 
 when they are cut and polished they have an extraordinary 
 lustre. The most noted and esteemed are diamonds, rubies, 
 amethysts, emeralds, topazes, opals. 
 
 Besides these, we must not omit those which, though of 
 not so much beauty, yet are of greater use, vi^., loadstones, 
 whetstones of all kinds, limestones, calamine, or lapis cala- 
 minaris, and abundance of others. 
 
 Besides these, there are found in the earth several sorts of 
 salts, as eating or common salt, "\dtriol, sal gemma, and others. 
 
 The minerals, or semi-metals that are dug out of the 
 bowels of the earth, are antimony, cinnabar, zink, &c., to 
 which may be added brimstone. 
 
 But the bodies of most use that are sought for out of the 
 depths of the earth are the metals; which are distinguished 
 fi-om other bodies by their weight, fusibility, and malleable- 
 ness ; of which thei'e are several sorts : gold, silver, copper, 
 tin, lead, and, the most valuable of them all, iron; to which 
 one may join that anomalous body, quicksilver, or mer- 
 c\iry. 
 
 He that desires to be more particularly informed concern- 
 ing the qualities and properties of these subterraneous bodies, 
 may consult natural historians and chemists. 
 
 What lies deeper towards the centre of the earth we know 
 not, but a very little beneath the surface of this globe; and 
 whatever we fetch from underground is only what is lodged 
 in the shell of the earth. 
 
 All stones, metals, and minerals, are real vegetables; that 
 is, grow organically from proper seeds, as well as plants. 
 
 CHAPTER IX, 
 
 OP VEGETABLES, OR PLANTS. 
 
 Next to the earth itself, we may consider those that are 
 maintained on its surface; which, though they are fastened ■ 
 to it, yet are very distinct from it; and those are the whole
 
 ELEMENTS OP NxVTURAL PUILOSOPHY. 487 
 
 tribe of vegetables, or plants. These may be divided iuto 
 three sorts : herbs, shi'ubs, and trees. 
 
 Herbs are those plants whose stalks are soft, and have 
 nothing woody in them : as grass, sowthistle, and hemlock. 
 Shrubs and trees have all wood in them; but with this dif- 
 ference, that shrubs grow not to the height of trees, and 
 usually spread into branches near the surface of the eai'th ; 
 whereas trees generally shoot up in one great stem or body, 
 and then, at a good distance from the earth, spi'ead into 
 branches; thus gooseberries and cm'rants are shinibs, oaks 
 and cherries are trees. 
 
 In plants, the most considerable parts are these : the root, 
 the stalk, the leaves, the flower, and the seed. There ai'e 
 very few of them that have not all these parts ; though some 
 few there are that have no stalk, others that have no leaves, 
 and others that have no flowers; but without seed or root I 
 think there are none. 
 
 In vegetables, there are two things chiefly to be considered : 
 their nourishment and propagation. 
 
 Their nourishment is thus : the small and tender fibres of 
 the roots, being spread under ground, imbibe, from the moist 
 earth, juice fit for their nourishment ; this is conveyed by the 
 stalk up into the branches and leaves, through little, and, in 
 some plants, imperceptible tubes, and from thence, by the 
 bark, returns again to the root ; so that there is in vegetables, 
 as well as in animals, a circulation of the vital liquor. By 
 ■what impulse it is moved is somewhat hard to discover. It 
 seems to be from the difierence of day and night, and other 
 changes in the heat of the air; for the heat dilating and the 
 cold contracting those little tubes, supposing there be valves 
 in them, it is easy to be conceived how the circulation is 
 performed in plants, where it is not required to be so rapid 
 and quick as in animals. 
 
 Nature has provided for the propagation of the species of 
 plants several ways. The fii'st and general is by seed. Be- 
 sides this, some plants ai'e raised from any part of the root 
 set in the ground; others by new roots that are propagated 
 from the old ones, as in tulips; others by ofisets; and in 
 others, the branches set in the ground will take root and 
 grow; and last of all, grafting and inoculation, in certain 
 sorts, are known ways of propagation. All these ways of
 
 488 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 increasing plants make one good part of the skill of garden* 
 ing; and from, the books of gardeners may be best learned. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OP AITIMALS. 
 
 There is another sort of creatures belonging to this our 
 earth, rather as inhabitants than parts of it. They differ in 
 this from plants, that they are not fixed to any one place, 
 but have a freedom of motion up and down; and besides, 
 have sense to guide them in their motions. 
 
 Man and brute divide all the animals of this our globe. 
 Brutes may be considered as either aerial, terrestrial, 
 aquatic, or amphibious. I call those aerial which have wings, 
 wherewith they can support themselves in the air. Terres- 
 trial are those whose only place of rest is upon the earth. 
 Aquatic, are those whose constant abode is upon the watei'. 
 Tliose are called amphibious, which live freely in the air 
 upon the earth, and yet are observed to live long in the water, 
 as if they were natural inhabitants of that element; though 
 it be worth the examination to know, whether any of those 
 creatures that live at their ease, and by choice, a good while 
 or at any time upon the earth, can live a long time together 
 perfectly under water. 
 
 Aerial animals may be subdivided into birds and flies- 
 Fishes, which are the chief part of aquatic animals, may 
 be divided into shell-fishes, scaly fishes, and those that have 
 neither apparent scales nor shells. 
 
 And the terrestrial animals may be divided into quadru- 
 peds or beasts, reptiles, which have many feet, and serpents, 
 which have no feet at all. 
 
 Insects, which in their several changes belong to several 
 of the before-mentioned divisions, may be considered toge- 
 ther as one great tribe of animals. They are called insects, 
 from a separation in the middle of their bodies, whereby they 
 are, as it were, cut into two parts, which are joined together 
 by a small ligature ; as we see in wasps, common flies, and 
 the like. 
 
 Besides all these there are some animals that are not per- 
 fectly of these kinds, but placed, as it were, in the middle
 
 ELEMEKTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 489 
 
 betwixt two of them, by something of both ; as bats, wliich 
 have something of beasts and birds in them. 
 
 Some reptiles of the earth, and some of aquatics, want 
 one or more of the senses, which are in perfecter animals; 
 as worms, oysters, cockles, &c. 
 
 Animals are nourished by food, taken in at the mouth, 
 digested in the stomach, and thence by fit vessels distributed 
 over the whole body, as is described in books of anatomy. 
 
 The greatest part of animals have five senses ; viz., seeing, 
 hearing, smelling, tasting, and feeling. These, and the way 
 of nourishment of animals, we shall more particularly con- 
 sider, because they are common to man with beasts. 
 
 The way of nourishment of animals, particularly of man, 
 is by food taken in at the mouth, which being chewed there, 
 is broken and mixed with the saliva, and thereby prepared 
 for an easier and better digestion in the stomach. 
 
 When the stomach has performed its office upon the food, 
 it protrudes it into the guts, by whose peristaltic motion it 
 is gently conveyed along through the guts, and, as it passes, 
 the chyle, which is the nutritive part, is separated from the 
 excrementitious by the lacteal veins: and from thence con- 
 veyed into the blood, with which it circulates till itself be 
 concocted into blood. The blood, being by the vena cava 
 brought into the right ventricle of the heart,* by the con- 
 traction of that muscle, is driven through the arteria pul- 
 monaris into the lungs; where the constantly inspired air 
 mixing with it enlivens it ; and from thence being conveyed 
 by the vena pulmonaris into the left ventricle of the heai-t, 
 the contraction of the heart forces it out, and, by the arte- 
 ries, distributes it into all parts of the body; firom whence it 
 returns by the veins into the right ventricle of the heart, to 
 take the same course again. This is called the circulation of 
 the blood, by which life and heat are communicated to every 
 part of the body. 
 
 In the circulation of the blood, a good part of it goes up 
 into the head; and by the brains are separated from it, or 
 made oat of it, the animal spirits; which, by the nerves, /" 
 impart sense and motion to all parts of the body. 
 
 The instruments of motion are the muscles ; the fibres 
 
 * Vid. Blumenbach's Comparative Anatomy, c. xii. On the Heart 
 and Blood-vessels in Mammalia, Buds, &c. Physiology, § 7, p. 81. — Ed,
 
 490 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY, 
 
 whereof, contracting themselves, move the several parts of 
 the body. 
 
 This contraction of the muscles is, in some of them, by 
 the direction of the mind, and in some of them without it; 
 which is the difference between voluntary and involuntary 
 motions in the body. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OF THE FIVE SENSES, 
 
 Of Seeing. 
 
 The organ of seeing is the eye;* consisting of variety of 
 parts wonderfully contrived for the admitting and refracting 
 the rays of light, so that those that come from the same point 
 of the object, and fall upon different parts of the pupil, are 
 brought to meet again at the bottom of the eye, whereby the 
 whole object is painted on the retina that is spread there. 
 
 That which immediately affects the sight, and produces in 
 us that sensation which we call seeing, is light. 
 
 Light t may be considered either, first, as it radiates from 
 luminous bocUes directly to our eyes; and thus we see lumi- 
 nous bodies themselves, as the sun, or a flame, &c. ; or, 
 secondly, as it is reflected from other bodies; and thus we 
 see a man or a picture by the rays of light reflected from 
 them to our eyes. 
 
 Bodies, in respect of light, may be divided into three sorts : 
 first, those that emit rays of light, as the sun and fixed stars ; 
 secondly, those that transmit the rays of light, as the air; 
 thirdly, those that reflect the rays of light, as iron, earth, <kc. 
 The first are called luminous, the second pellucid, and the 
 tnird opaque. 
 
 The rays of light themselves are not seen; but by them 
 the bodies from which they originally come, as the sun or a 
 fixed star; or the bodies from which they are reflected, as a 
 horse or a tulip. "When the moon shines, we do not see the 
 rays which come from the sun to the moon, but by them we 
 see the moon, from whence they are reflected, 
 
 * Blumenbach's Physiolog}'^, § 17, p. 246, Comparative Anatomy, 
 c xxi. p. 287. — Ed. 
 
 + Hobbes' Elements of Natural Philosophy, Part IV. c. xxvii. § 2, seq. 
 —Ed,
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 491 
 
 If the eye be placed iu the medium through which the 
 rays pass to it, the medium is not seen at all ; for instance, 
 we do not see the air through which tlie rays come to our 
 eyes. But if a pellucid body, through which the light comes, 
 be at a distance from our eye, we see that body, as well as 
 the bodies from whence the i-ays come that pass through 
 them to come to our eyes. For instance, we do not only see 
 bodies through a pair of spectacles, but we see the glass it- 
 self. The reason whereof is, that pellucid bodies being 
 bodies, the surfaces of which reflect some rays of light from 
 their solid parts, these surfaces, i:)laced at a convenient dis- 
 tance from the eye, may be seen by those reflected rays ; as, 
 at the same time, other bodies beyond those pellucid ones 
 may be seen by the transmitted I'ays. 
 
 Oi^aque bodies are of two sorts, specular or not specular. 
 Specular bodies, or mirrors, are such opaque bodies whose 
 sui-faces are polished; whereby they, reflecting the rays in 
 the same order as they come from other bodies, show us their 
 images. 
 
 The rays that are reflected from opaque bodies always bring 
 with them to the eye the idea of colour; and this colour is 
 nothing else, in the bodies, but a disposition to reflect to the 
 eye more copiously one sort of rays than another. For jjar- 
 ticular rays are originally endowed with particular colours : 
 some are red, others blue, others yellow, and others green, &c. 
 Every ray of light, as it comes from the sun, seems a bun- 
 dle of all these several sorts of rays; and as some of them 
 are more refrangible than others, that is, are more turned out 
 of their course in passing from one medium to another, it 
 follows that after such refraction they will be separated, and 
 their distinct colour observed. Of these the most refrangible 
 are violet, and the least, red; and the intermediate ones, in 
 order, are indigo, blue, green, yellow, and orange. This 
 separation is very entertaining, and will be obsei-ved with 
 pleasure in holding a prism in the beams of the sun. 
 
 As all these rays difi'er in refrangibility, so they do in re- 
 flexibility ; that is, in the property of being more easily 
 reflected from certain bodies than from others; and hence 
 arise, as hath been said, all the colours of bodies ; which are, 
 in a manner, infinite, as an infinite number of compositions 
 and proportions of the original colours may be imagined.
 
 492 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 The whiteness of the sun's light is compounded of all the 
 original colours, mixed in due proportion. 
 
 Whiteness in bodies is but a disposition to reflect all 
 colours of light nearly in the proportion they are mixed in 
 the original rays; as, on the contrary, blackness is only a 
 disposition to absorb or stifle, without reflection, most of the 
 rays of every sort that fall on the bodies. 
 
 Light is successively propagated with an almost incon- 
 ceivable swiftness; for it comes from the sun to this our 
 earth in about seven or eight minutes of time, which distance 
 is about 80,000,000 English miles. 
 
 Besides colour, we are supposed to see figure : but, in 
 truth, that which we perceive when we see figure, as per- 
 ceivable by sight, is nothing but the termination of colour. 
 
 Of Hearing. 
 
 Next to seeing, hearing* is the most extensive of our 
 senses. The ear is the organ of hearing, whose curious 
 structure is to be learned from anatomy. 
 
 That which is conveyed into the brain by the ear is called 
 sound; though, in truth, till it come to reach and aflfect the 
 perceptive part, it be nothing but motion. 
 
 The motion which produces in us the perception of sound 
 is a vibration of the air, caused by an exceeding short but 
 quick tremulous motion of the body from which it is propa- 
 gated ; and therefore we consider and denominate them as 
 bodies sounding. 
 
 That sound is the efiect of such a short, brisk, vibrating 
 motion of bodies from which it is propagated, may be known 
 from what is observed and felt in the strings of instruments, 
 and the trembling of bells, as long as we perceive any sound 
 come from them, for as soon as that vibration is stopped, or 
 ceases in them, the perception ceases also. 
 
 The propagation of sound is very quick, but not approach- 
 ing that of light. Sounds move about 1140 English feet in 
 a second of time; and in seven or eight minutes of time, 
 they move about one hundred English miles. 
 
 * On the organ of hearing see Blumenbach's Comparative Anatomy, 
 c. XX. p. 278. Physiology, § 16, p. 240. To avoid constant reference 
 to the same works, the reader is liere requested to consult them on the 
 organs and operations of the senses generally. — Ed,
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PniLOSOPHY, 493 
 
 Of Smelling. 
 
 Smelling is another sense that seems to be wrought on by- 
 bodies at a distance ; though that which immediately affects 
 the organ, and produces in us the sensation of any smell, are 
 effluvia, or invisible particles, that, coming from bodies at a 
 distance, immediately affect the olfactory nei-ves. 
 
 Smelling bodies seem perpetually to send forth effluvia, or 
 steams, without sensibly wavSting at all. Thus a grain of 
 musk will send forth odoriferous particles for scores of years 
 together without its being spent ; whereby one would con- 
 clude that these particles are very small ; and yet it is plain 
 that they are much grosser than the rays of light, which 
 have a free passage through glass ; and gi-osser also than the 
 magnetic effluvia, which pass freely through all bodies, when 
 those that produce smell will not pass through the thin 
 membranes of a bladder, and many of them scarce ordinary 
 white paper. 
 
 There is a great variety of smells, though we have but a 
 few names for them ; sweet, stinking, sour, rank, and musty 
 are almost all the denominations we have for odours ; though 
 the smell of a violet and of musk, both called sweet, are as 
 distinct as any two smells whatsoever. 
 
 0/ Taste. 
 
 Taste is the next sense to be considered. The organ oi 
 taste is the tongiie and palate. 
 
 Bodies that emit light, sounds, and smells are seen, heard, 
 and smelt at a distance; but bodies are not tasted but by 
 immediate application to the organ ; for till our meat touch 
 our tongues or palates we taste it not, how near soever it be. 
 
 It may be observed of tastes, that though there be a great 
 variety of them, yet, as in smells, they have only some few 
 general names; as sweet, bitter, sour, harsh, rank, and some 
 few othei"s. 
 
 0/ Tmch. 
 
 The fifth and last of our senses is touch ; a sense spread 
 over the whole body, though it be most eminently placed in 
 the ends of the fingers. 
 
 By this sense the tangible qualities of bodies are dis-
 
 494 ELEMENTS OF NATUIiAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 cemed; as hard, soft, smooth, rough, dry, wet, clammy, and 
 the like. 
 
 But the most considerable of the qualities that are per- 
 ceived by this sense are heat and cold. 
 
 The due temperament of those two opposite qualities is 
 the great instrument of nature, that she makes use of in 
 most, if not all, her prodiictions. 
 
 Heat is a veiy brisk agitation of the insensible parts of 
 the object, which jiroduces in us that sensation from whence 
 we denominate the object hot ; so what in our sensation is 
 heat, in the object is nothing but motion. This appears by 
 the way whereby heat is produced ; for we see that the rub- 
 bing of a brass nail upon a board will make it very hot ; 
 and the axle-trees of carts and coaches are often hot, and 
 sometimes to a degree that it sets them ou fire, by the rub- 
 bing of the nave of the wheel upon it. 
 
 On the other side, the utmost degree of cold is the cessa- 
 tion of that motion of the insensible particles, which to our 
 touch is heat. 
 
 Bodies are denominated hot and cold in proportion to the 
 present temperament of that part of our body to which they 
 are applied; so that feels hot to one which seems cold to an- 
 other; nay, the same body, felt by the two hands of the 
 same man, may at the same time appear hot to the one and 
 cold to the other, because the motion of the insensible parti- 
 cles of it may be more brisk than that of the particles of the 
 other. 
 
 Besides the objects before mentioned, which ai-e peculiar 
 to each of our senses, as light and colour of the sight, soimd 
 of hearing, odours of smelling, savours of tasting, and tan- 
 gible qualities of the touch, there are two others that are 
 common to all the senses; and those are pleasure and pain, 
 which they may receive by and with their peculiar objects. 
 Thus, too much light offends the eye; soane sounds delight 
 and others grate the ear; heat in a certain degree is very 
 pleasant, which may be augmented to the greatest torment; 
 and so the i-est. 
 
 These five senses are common to beasts with men ; nay, in 
 some of them, some brutes exceed mankind. But men are 
 endowed with other faculties, which far excel anything that 
 is to be found in the other animals in this our globe.
 
 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 495 
 
 Memory, also, brutes may be supposed to have, as well as 
 men. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OF THE UNDERSTANDING OP MAN. 
 
 The imderstanding of man does so surpass that of brutes, 
 that some are of opinion brutes are mere machines, without 
 any manner of perception at all. But letting tliis opinion 
 alone, as ill-grounded, we will proceed to the consideration 
 of human understanding, and the distinct operations thereof. 
 
 The lowest degree of it consists in perception, which we 
 have before in part taken notice of, in our discourse of the 
 senses; concerning which it may be convenient further to 
 observe, that, to conceive a right notion of perception, we 
 must consider the distinct objects of it, which are simple 
 ideas ; v. g., such as are those signified by these words, 
 scarlet, blue, sweet, bitter, heat, cold, &c., from the other 
 objects of our senses; to which we may add the internal 
 operations of our own minds as the objects of oui- own re- 
 flection, such as are thinking, willing, &c. 
 
 Out of these simple ideas are made, by putting them to- 
 gether, several compounded or complex ideas; as those 
 signified by the words pebble, marigold, horse. 
 
 The next thing the understanding doth in its jorogress to 
 knowledge, is to abstract its ideas, by which abstraction 
 they are made general, 
 
 A general idea is an idea in the mind, considered there as 
 sepajated from time and place; and so capable to represent 
 any particular being that is conformable to it. Knowledge, 
 which is the highest degree of the speculative faculties, con- 
 sists in the perception of the truth of affiiTnative or nega- 
 tive propositions. 
 
 This perception is either immediate or mediate. Imme- 
 diate perception of the agreement or disagreement of two 
 ideas is when, by comparing them together in our minds, 
 we see, or, as it were, behold, their agreement or disagree- 
 ment. This, therefore, is called intuitive knowledge. Thus 
 we see that red is not green ; that the whole is bigger than a 
 part; that two and two are equal to four.
 
 496 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 The truth of these and the like propositions we know by 
 a bare simple intuition of the ideas themselves, without any 
 more ado ; and such propositions are called self-evident. 
 
 The mediate perception of the agreement or disagreement 
 of two ideas is when, by the intervention of one or more 
 other ideas, their agreement or disagreement is shown. This 
 is called demonstration, or rational knowledge. For instance, 
 the inequality of the breadth of two windows, or two rivers, 
 or any two bodies that cannot be put together, may be 
 known by the intervention of the same measure applied to 
 them both ; and so it is in our general ideas, whose agreement 
 or disagreement may be often shown by the intervention of 
 some other ideas, so as to produce demonstrative know- 
 ledge; where the ideas in question cannot be brought to- 
 gether and immediately compared, so as to produce intviitive 
 knowledge. 
 
 The imderstanding doth not know only certain truth, but 
 also judges of probability, which consists in the likely agree- 
 ment or disagreement of ideas. 
 
 The assenting to any proposition as probable is called 
 opinion, or belief. 
 
 We have hitherto considered the great and visible parts 
 of the iiniverse, and those great masses of matter, the stars, 
 planets, and particularly this our earth, together with the 
 inanimate parts and animate inhabitants of it; it may be 
 now fit to consider what these sensible bodies are made of, 
 and that is of inconceivably small bodies or atoms,* out of 
 whose various combinations bigger moleculse are made; and 
 so, by a greater and greater composition, bigger bodies; and 
 out of these the whole material world is constituted. 
 
 By the figure, bulk, texture, and motion of these small 
 and insensible corpuscles, all the phenomena of bodies may 
 be explained. 
 
 * On the subject of atoms, &c., the reader may be amused by a little 
 treatise, entitled, Man in Quest of Himself, p. 185, in Metaphysical 
 Tracts, by English Philosophers of the Eighteenth Century, collected 
 and edited by Dr. Parr. — Ed.
 
 SOME THOUGHTS 
 
 CONCERNING 
 
 READING AND STUDY, 
 
 FOE A GENTLEMAN. 
 
 [Although this brief tract cannot, strictly speaking, be denominated 
 philosophical, it contains several useful and excellent observations, which 
 render it worthy to be preserved. In the opening remarks Locke touches 
 slightly upon a topic which the reader wiJl find more fully discussed in 
 the Treatise concerning the Conduct of the Understanding ; but it is 
 useful, and at all events entertaining, to compare the tlifferent expres- 
 sions made use of by the philosopher in delivering at different times 
 the same thoughts. The course of reading recommended may at first 
 sight appear somewhat too limited, though very few men of the world, 
 perhaps, would care to go through it completely. Some few of the books 
 enumerated are now no longer in use, their place being supplied by more 
 modem compilations ; but the works on which Lccke himself set any 
 particular value are as deserving of study now as they were then ; I 
 mean those which treat of eloquence, ethics, and politics. Even the 
 books of Voyages and Travels which he considered of sufficient value 
 to be mentioned, continue for the most part to be popular, as far as 
 popularity can be said to belong to any such productions. The political 
 treatises which Locke desired to behold in the hands of gentlemen are 
 every one of them such as still to merit the same distinction, more 
 particularly Sir Ralph Sadlier's Eights of the Kingdom, which, with Al- 
 gernon Sydney's Discourses, Harrington's political works, and Milton's 
 Tenme of Kings, and Defence of the People of England, may be said 
 to contain an almost complete development of the science. The few 
 foreign works which ought perhaps to be added, are Aristotle's Politics, 
 Macchiavelli's Prince and Discom'ses on Livy, and Montesquieu's Esprit 
 des LoLx.— Ed.] 
 
 Reading is for the improvement of the understanding. The 
 improvement of the understanding is for two ends : first, for 
 our own increase of knowledge; secondly, to enable us to 
 deliver and make out that knowledge to others. 
 
 The latter of these, if it be not the chief end of study in a 
 gentleman, yet it is at least equal to the other, since the 
 
 VOL. IT. 2 K
 
 498 SOME TUOUGIITS CONCERNING 
 
 greatest part of his business and usefulness in the world is 
 by the influence of what he says or wiites to others. 
 
 The extent of our knowledge cannot exceed the extent 
 of our ideas; therefore, he who would be universally know- 
 ing, must acquaint himself with the objects of all sciences. 
 But this is not necessary to a gentleman, whose proper 
 calling is the service of his country, and so is most properly 
 concerned in moral and political knowledge; and thus 
 the studies which more immediately belong to his calling 
 are those which treat of virtues and vices, of civil society, 
 and the arts of government, and will take in also law and 
 history. 
 
 It is enough for a gentleman to be furnished with the ideas 
 belonging to his calling, which he will find in the books that 
 treat of the matters above mentioned. 
 
 But the next step towards the improvement of his imder- 
 standing, must be, to observe the connexion of these ideas 
 in the propositions which those books hold forth and pretend 
 to teach as truths; which, till a man can judge whether they 
 be truths or no, his understanding is but little imj^roved; 
 and he doth but think and talk after the books that he hath 
 read, without having any knowledge thereljy. And thus 
 men of much reading are greatly learned but may be little 
 knowing. 
 
 The third and last step, therefore, in improving the un- 
 derstanding, is to find out upon what foundation any pro- 
 position advanced bottoms; and to observe the connexion of 
 the intermediate ideas by which it is joined to that founda- 
 tion upon which it is erected, or that principle from which 
 it is derived. This, in short, is right reasoning; and by this 
 way alone true knowledge is to be got by reading and study- 
 ing. 
 
 When a man, by use, hath got this faculty of observing 
 and judging of the reasoning and coherence of what he reads, 
 and how it proves what it pretends to teach; he is then, 
 and not till then, in the right way of improving his under- 
 standing and enlai'ging his knowledge by reading. 
 
 But that, as I have said, being not all that a gentleman 
 should aim at in reading, he should further take care to im- 
 prove himself in the art also of speaking, that so he may be 
 able to make the best use of what he knows.
 
 RF.ADIXG XSD STUDV. 499 
 
 The art of speaking well consists chiefly in two things, 
 viz., perspicuity and right reasoning. 
 
 Perspicuity consists in the using of proper terms for the 
 ideas or thoughts wliich he would have to pass from his own 
 mind into that of another man. It is this that gives them 
 an easy entrance ; and it is with delight that men heai-ken 
 to those whom they easily understand; whei'eas what is 
 obscurely said, dying as it is spoken, is uiiually not only lost, 
 but creates a prejudice in the hearer, as if he that spoke 
 knew not what he said, or was afraid to have it understood. 
 
 The way to obtain this is to read such books as are allowed 
 to be wi-it with the greatest clearness and propriety, in the 
 language that a man uses. An author excellent in this 
 faculty, as well as several others, is Dr. Tillotson, late Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, in all that is published of his. I have 
 chosen rather to propose this pattern for the attainment of 
 the art of speaking clearly, than those who give rides about 
 it, since we ai-e more apt to learn by example than by direc- 
 tion. But if any one hath a mind to consult the masters in 
 the art of speaking and writing, he may find in Tully " De 
 Oratore," and another treatise of his, called Orator, and in 
 Quintilian's Institutions, and Boileau's " Traite da Sub- 
 lime," * instructions concerning this and the other parts of 
 speaking well 
 
 Besides perspicuity, there must be also right reasoning; 
 without which perspicuity serves but to expose the speaker. 
 And for the attaining of this I shoidd proi^ose the constant 
 reading of Chillingworth, who by his example will teach 
 both perspicuity and the way of right reasoning, better than 
 any book that I know; and therefore will deserve to be read 
 on that accoimt over and over agaua; not to say anything of 
 his argument. 
 
 Besides these books in English, Tully, Terence, Virgil, 
 Livy, and Caesar's Commentaries may be read to form one's 
 mind to a relish of a right way of speaking and writing. 
 
 The books I have hitherto mentioned have been in order 
 only to writing and speaking well ; not but tliat they will 
 deserve to be read on other accounts. 
 
 The study of morality I have above mentioned as that 
 
 * This treatise is a translation from Loncinns. 
 
 2k2
 
 500 SOME THOUGHTS CONCKRNXNG 
 
 that becomes a gentleman ; not barely as a man, but in order 
 to bis business as a gentleman. Of this there are books 
 enough writ both by ancient and modern philosophers; but 
 the morality of the gospel doth so exceed them all, that, to 
 give a man a fuU knowledge of true morality, I shaU send 
 him to no other book but the New Testament. But if he 
 hath a mind to see how far the heathen world carried that 
 science, and whereon they bottomed their ethics, he will be 
 delightfully and profitably entertained in Tully's Treatises 
 " De Officiis." 
 
 Politics contains two parts, very different the one from 
 the other : the one containing the original of societies, and 
 the rise and extent of political power; the other the art of 
 governing men in society. 
 
 The first of these hath been so bandied amongst us, for 
 these sixty years backward, that one can hardly miss books 
 of this kind. Those which I think are most talked of in 
 English are the fij-st book of Mr. Hooker's "Ecclesiastical 
 Polity," and Mr. Algernon Sydney's " Discourses concerning 
 Government." The latter of these I never read. Let me here 
 add, " Two Treatises of Government," printed in 1690;* and 
 a treatise of "Civil Polity," printed this year.f To these one 
 may add, Puffendorf " De Officio Hominis et Civis," and 
 " De Jure Naturali et Gentium;" which last is the best 
 book of that kind. 
 
 As to the other part of politics, which concerns the art of 
 government, that, I think, is best to be learned by experience 
 and history, especially that of a man's own country. And 
 therefore I think an English gentleman should be well versed 
 in the history of England, taking his rise as far back as there 
 are any records of it; joining with it the laws that were 
 made in the several ages, as he goes along in his history; 
 that he may observe from thence the several turns of state, 
 and how they have been produced. In Mr. Tyrrel's His- 
 tory of England, he will find all along those several authors 
 which have treated of our affairs, and which he may have 
 recourse to, concerning any point which either his curiosity 
 or judgment shall lead him to inquire into. 
 
 * These two treatises are written by Mr. Locke himself. — Ed. 
 
 t " Civil Polity. A Treatise concerning the Nature of Government," 
 &c. London, 1703, in 8vo. Written by Peter Paxton, M.D. — Ed.
 
 READING AND STUDY. 501 
 
 With the history, he may also do well to read the ancient 
 la'wyers, such as Bracton, " Fleta," Henningham, " Mirror of 
 Justice," my Lord Coke's " Second Institutes," and tlie 
 "Modus, tenendi Parliamentum ; " and others of that kind 
 which he may find quoted in the late controversies between 
 Mr. Petit, Mr. Tyrrel, Mr. Atwood, &c., with Dr. Brady; 
 as also, I suppose, in Sadlier's Treatise of " Rights of the 
 Kingdom, and Customs of our Ancestors," whereof the first 
 edition is the best; wherein he will find the ancient con- 
 stitution of the government of England. 
 
 There are two volumes of " State Tracts," printed since the 
 revolution, in which there are many things relating to the 
 government of England. 
 
 As for general history. Sir Walter Raleigh and Dr. Howell 
 are books to be had. He who hath a mind to launch further 
 into that ocean, may consult Whear's " Methodus Legendi His- 
 torias," of the last edition ; which will direct him to the authors 
 he is to read and the method wherein he is to read them. 
 
 To the reading of histoiy, chronology and geography are 
 absolutely necessaiy. 
 
 In geography, we have two general ones in English, Heylin 
 and Moll ; which is the best of them I know not, having not 
 been much conversant in either of them. But the last I 
 should think to be of most use, because of the new discoveries 
 that are made every day tending to the perfection of that 
 science; though I believe that the countries which Heylin 
 mentions are better treated of by him, bating what new dis- 
 coveries since his time have added. 
 
 These two books contain geography in general ; but whether 
 an English gentleman would think it worth his time to 
 bestow much pains upon that; though without it he cannot 
 ■well understand a Gazette; it is certain he cannot well be 
 without Camden's " Britannia," which is much enlarged in 
 the last English edition. A good collection of maps is also 
 necessary. 
 
 To geography, books of travels may be added. In that 
 kind, the collections made by our countrymen Hackluyt 
 and Purchas are very good. There is also a very good 
 collection made by Thevenot, in folio, in French ; and by 
 Ramuzio, in Italian; whether translated into English or no
 
 502 SOME THOUGHTS CO^■CERNING 
 
 I know not. There are also several good books of travels 
 of Englishmen published, as Sandys, Rowe, Brown, Gage, 
 and Dampier. 
 
 There are also several voyages in French, which are very 
 good, as Pyi'ard,* Bei'geron,t Sagard,|. Bernier,§ &c., whether 
 all of them are translated into English, I know not. 
 
 There is at present a very good " Collection of Voyages 
 and Travels," never before in English, and such as are out of 
 print, now printing by Mr. Churchill. || 
 
 There are besides these a vast number of other travels; a 
 sort of books that have a very good mixture of delight and 
 usefulness. To set them all down, would take up too much 
 time and room. Those I have mentioned are enough to 
 begin with. 
 
 As to chi'onology, I think Helvicus the best for com- 
 mon use ; which is not a book to be read, but to lie 
 by, and be consulted upon occasion. He that hath a mind 
 to look further into chronology, may get Tallent's " Tables," 
 and Strauchius's " Breviarium Temporum," and may to 
 those add Scaliger's " De Emendatione Temporum," and 
 PetaviiLs, if he hath a mind to engage deeper in that 
 study. 
 
 Those who are accounted to have wi'it best particular parts 
 of our English history, are Bacon, of Henry VII. ; and Her- 
 bert, of Henry VIII. Daniel also, is commended ; and 
 Burnet's " History of the Eeformation." 
 
 Mariana's " Histoiy of Spain," and Thuanus's " History of 
 his Own Time," and Philip de Comines are of great and 
 deserved reputation. 
 
 There are also several French and English memoirs and 
 collections, such as La Rochefoucault, Melvil, Hushworth, 
 
 * "Voyage de Fran§ois Pyrard de Laval. Contenant sa Navigation 
 aux Indes Orien tales, Maldives, Moluques, BresU." Paris, 1619, 8vo., 
 third edition. 
 
 t ' ' Relation des "Voyages en Tartaric, &c. Le tout recueilli par 
 Pierre Bergeron." Paris, 1634, 8vo. 
 
 X ' ' Le grand Voyage des Hurons, situ^s en 1' Amerique, &c. Par F. 
 Gab. SagardTlieodat." Paris, 1632, 8vo. 
 
 § "Memoires de 1' Empire du Grand Mogol, &c., par Francois 
 Bemier." Paris. 1670 and 1671. 3 vols. 12nio. 
 
 II A collection of voyages and travels published in 1704, in 6 vols, folio.
 
 READING AND STUDY. 503 
 
 &c., wliicli give a gi-eat light to those who have a mind to 
 look into what hath past in Europe this last age. 
 
 To fit a gentleman for the coudnct of himself, whether as 
 a private man or as intei-ested in the government of his 
 country, nothing can be more necessary than the knowledge 
 of men ; which, though it be to be had chiefly from expe- 
 rience, and, next to that, from a judicious reading of history; 
 yet there are books that of purpose treat of human nature, 
 which help to give an insight into it. Such are those treating 
 of the passions, and how they are moved ; whereof Aristotle, 
 in his second book of Rhetoric, hath admirably discoursed, 
 and that in a little compass. I think this rhetoric is trans- 
 lated into English ; if not, it may be had in Greek and Latin 
 together. 
 
 La Bruyere's " Characters'' are also an admirable piece of 
 painting; I think it is also translated out of French into 
 English. 
 
 Satirical wi-itings, also, such as Juvenal and Persius, and, 
 above all, Horace, though they paint the deformities of men, 
 yet they thereby teach us to know them. 
 
 There is another use of reading, which is for diversion and 
 delight. Such are poetical writings, especially dramatic, if 
 they be free from profaneness, obscenity, and what corrupts 
 good manners ; for such pitch should not be handled. 
 
 Of all the books of fiction, I know none that equals " Cer- 
 vantes' History of Don Quixote" in visefulness, pleasantry, 
 and a constant decorum. And, indeed, no writings can be 
 pleasant which have not nature at the bottom, and are not 
 drawn after her copy. 
 
 There is another sort of books, which I had almost forgot, 
 with which a gentleman's study ought to be well furnished, 
 viz., dictionaries of all kinds. For the Latin tongue, Little- 
 ton, Cooper, Calepin, and Robert Stephens's " Thesaurus 
 Linguse Latinre," and Vossii " Etymologicum Lingua? Latinse." 
 Skinner's " Lexicon Etymologicum," is an excellent one of 
 that kind for the English tongue. Cowel's "Interpreter" is 
 useful for the law terms. Spelman's " Glossary " is a very 
 useful and learned book. Aiid Selden's " Titles of Honoiu-" 
 a gentleman should not be without. Baudrand hath a verj- 
 good " Geographical Dictionary." And there are several
 
 504 SOME THOUGHTS CONCERNING READING AND STUDY. 
 
 historical ones which are of use; as Lloyd's, Hoffman's, 
 Moreri'sj and Bayle's incomparaVjle dictionary is something 
 of the same kind. He that hath occasion to look into books 
 ■written in Latin since the decay of the Roman empire and 
 the purity of the Latin tongue, cannot be well without Du 
 Gauge's " Glossarium Medise et Infimaj Latiaitatis." 
 
 Among the books above set down I mentioned Vossius's 
 " Etpuologicum Linguaj Latinse;". all his works are lately 
 printed in Holland, in six tomes. They are fit books for a 
 gentleman's library, containing very learned discourses con- 
 cerning all the sciences. 
 
 END OF VOLUHE 12.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 ABBOT of St. Martin, ii. 57, s. 26 
 
 Abstraction, i. 27-i, s. 9 
 
 Puts a perfect distance betwixt 
 
 men and brutes, 275, s. 10 
 What, 275, s. 9 
 
 Abstract ideas, why made, i. 522, 
 s. 6, 7, 8 
 Terms cannot be affirmed one 
 of another, ii. 77, s. 1 
 
 Abstract and concrete terms, ii. 77 
 
 Abstruse ideas, whence derived, 
 i. 232 
 
 Abuse of words, ii. 94 ; causes of, 
 95 ; logic and dispute have 
 much contributed to it, 97; 
 remedies, 113 
 
 Accident, i. 423, s. 2 
 
 Action, but two sorts of, thinking 
 and motion, i. 362, s. 4 ; 421, 
 s. 11 
 
 Actions, the best evidence of men's 
 principles, i. 161, s. 7 
 Unpleasant may be made plea- 
 sant, and how, 406, s. 69 
 Cannot be the same in different 
 
 places, 459, s. 2 
 Considered as modes, or as mo- 
 ral, 494, s. 15 
 
 Adequate ideas, i. 510, s. 1, 2 
 We have not, of any species of 
 substances, ii. 162, s. 26 
 
 Affirmations are only inconcrete, 
 ii. 77. s. 1 
 
 Aged, murder of the, among cer- 
 tain nations, i. 163 
 
 Agreement and disagreement of 
 our ideas fourfold, ii. 129, s.3-7 
 
 Alteration, i. 454, s. 2 
 
 Analogy, useful in natural philo- 
 sophy, ii. 279, s. 12 
 
 Angels, on the nature of, i. 360 ; 
 ii. 48, 163 
 
 Anger, i. 356, 357, s. 12-14 
 
 Animals, identity of, i. 462 
 
 Antipathy and sympathy, whence, 
 i. 535, s. 7 
 
 ^Vrchetypes, ii. 175 
 
 Arguments of four sorts : 
 
 1. Ad verecundiam, ii. 300, s. 19 
 
 2. Ad ignorantiam, ii. 301, s. 20 
 
 3. Ad hominem, ib., s. 21 
 
 4. Ad judicium, ib., s. 22. This 
 alone right, ib. 
 
 Arithmetic, systems of, nearly all 
 founded on the decimal pro- 
 gression, i. 328 
 The use of ciphers in arithmetic, 
 ii. 155, s. 19 
 Artificial things are most of them 
 collective ideas, i. 448, s. 3 
 Why we are less liable to con- 
 fusion about artificial things, 
 than about natural, ii.67, s. 40 
 Have' distinct species, 67, s. 41 
 Assent, a mark of self-evidence, 
 i. 145, s, 18 
 Not of innate, 145, s. 18-20 ; 
 197, s. 19 
 Assent to maxims, i. 139, s. 10 
 Upon hearing and understanding 
 the terms, 144, 145, s. 17, 18 
 Assent to probability, ii. 269, s. 3 
 Ought to be proportioned to the 
 proofs, 271, s. 1 
 Association of ideas, i. 531, s. 1, 
 &c. 
 This association how made, 534, 
 
 8,6 
 
 111 effects of it, as to antipathies, 
 
 535, 536, s. 7, 8; 538, s. 15 
 And this in sects of philosojihy 
 
 anil religion, 539, s. 18 
 Its ill influence as to intellectual 
 habits, 539, s. 17 
 Assurance, ii. 275, s. 6 
 Atheism in the world, i. 184, s. 8 
 Atom, what, i. 460, s. 3 
 Authority ; relying on others' opi- 
 nions, one great cause of er- 
 ror, ii. 335, s. 17 
 Axioms. See Maxims. 
 
 Bat, question whether a bird or 
 no, ii, 116
 
 506 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Bats, observations on, i. 260 
 
 Baxter, his idea that the happiness 
 of a future would mainly consist 
 in enlarged knowledge, ii. 147 
 
 Beings, but two sorts, ii. 235, s. 9 
 The eternal being must be cogi- 
 tative, 236, s. 10 
 
 Belief, what, ii. 269, s. 3 
 
 To believe without reason, is 
 
 against our duty, 302, s. 24 
 Best in our opinion, not a rule of 
 God's actions, i. 190, s. 12 
 
 Berkeley, his denial of the existence 
 of the visible world, an ex- 
 tension of an idea of Locke, 
 i. 247 
 
 Blind man, if made to see, would 
 not know which a globe, which 
 a cube, by his sight, though 
 he knew them by his touch, 
 i. 256, s. 8 
 
 Blood, how it appears in a micro- 
 scope, i. 430, s. 11 
 
 Bodies and spirits, i. 291 ; no 
 science of, ii. 162, 163 
 
 Body. We have no more primary 
 ideas of body than of spirit, 
 i. 435, s. 16 
 The primary ideas of body^ 
 
 436, s. 17 
 The extension or cohesion of bo- 
 dy, as hard to be understood, 
 as the thinking of spiiit, 437 — 
 
 440, 8. 23-7 
 
 Mo\'ing of body by body, as hard 
 to be conceived as by spirit, 
 
 441, s. 28 
 
 Operates only by impulse, 245, 
 s. 11 
 
 What, 288, s. 11 
 
 The author's notion of the 'body,' 
 2 Cor. V. 10, ii. 360, and of 
 * his own body,' 1 Cor. xv. 35, 
 &c., 360. 'The meaning of 
 ' the same body,' 360. Whe- 
 ther the word body be a sim- 
 ple or complex tenn, 361. 
 This only a controversy about 
 the sense of a word, 376. 
 Brimha, or the Supreme Intelli- 
 gence, temples to, i. 190 
 
 Brutes have no universal ideas, 
 
 i. 275, s.lO, 11 
 Abstract not, 275, s. 10 
 But, its several significations, iL 76, 
 
 S.5 
 
 Cannibalism, instances of, among 
 
 various nations, i. 162 
 Capacity, ii. 284, s. 3 
 Capacities, to know theii" extent, 
 useful, i. 130, s. 4 
 To cure scepticism and idleness, 
 
 132, s. 6 
 Are suited to our present state, 
 131, s.5 
 Cassowary, the, described, iL 64 
 Castellan, Pierre, his devotion to 
 
 study, i. 385 
 Cause, i. 454, s. 1 
 
 And effect, 454, s. 1 
 Certainty depends on intuition, 
 ii. 134, s. 1 
 Wherein it consists, 181, s. 18 
 Of truth, 181, 8,1 
 To be had in very few general 
 propositions, concerning sub- 
 stances, 270, s. 6 
 Where to be had, 201, s. 16 
 Verbal, 186, s. 8 
 Eeal, 186, s. 8 
 
 Sensible knowledge, the utmost 
 certainty we have of existence, 
 244, s. 2 
 The author's notion of it not 
 
 dangerous, &c., 382 
 How it differs from assurance, 
 275, s. 6 
 Changelings, whether men or no, 
 
 ii. 176, 177, s. 13, 14 
 Changes in animals and plants 
 removed from their native 
 climes, ii. 196 
 Children, systematic exposure of, 
 among some nations, L 162, 
 167 
 Have ideas in the womb, but 
 not innate ones, 254 
 Cliillingworth, his style commend- 
 ed, ii. 499 
 Civil law, the measure of crime 
 and innocence, i. 487
 
 INDEX. 
 
 507 
 
 Clearness alone bindei-s confusion 
 
 of ideas, i. 272, s. 3 
 Clear and obscure ideas, i. 499, s. 2 
 Cogitative and incogitative beings, 
 
 ii. 23(5 
 Colours, modes of, i. 345, s. 4 
 Comments upon law, wby infinite, 
 
 ii. 84, s. 9 
 Comparing ideas, i. 273, s. 4 
 
 Herein men excel brutes, 275, s.3 
 Complex ideas bow made, L 273, 
 s. 6; 279, s. 1 
 In these the mind is more than 
 
 passive, 280, s. 2 
 Ideas reducible to modes, sub- 
 stances, and relations, 280, s. 3 
 Compounding ideas, i. 273, s. 6 
 In this is a great difference be- 
 tween men and brutes, 273, s. 7 
 Compulsion, i. 368, s. 13 
 Concrete terms, ii. 77 
 Confidence, ii. 275, s. 7 
 Confused ideas, i. 499, s. 4 
 Confusion of ideas, wherein it con- 
 sists, i. 500, s. 5-7 
 Causes of confusion in ideas, 
 
 500, 501, s. 7-9; 503, s. 12 
 Of ideas, grounded on a reference 
 
 to names, 503, s. 10-12 
 Its remedy, 503, s. 12 
 Conscience is our own opinion of 
 
 our own actions, i. 161, s. 8 
 Consciousness makes the same per- 
 son, i. 467, s. 10; 473, s. 16 
 Probably annexed to the same 
 individual, immaterial sub- 
 stance, 478, s. 25 
 Necessaiy to thinking, 211, s. 10, 
 
 11; 219, s. 19 
 What, 219, 8. 19 
 Contemplation, i. 262, s. 1 
 Creation, i. 454, s. 2 
 
 Not to be denied, because we 
 cannot conceive the manner 
 how, 342, s. 19 
 
 Darius, anecdote of, i. 163 
 Defining of terms would cut off a 
 
 great part of disputes, ii. 101, 
 
 s. 15 
 Definition, why the genus is used 
 
 in definitions, ii. 13, s. 10 
 
 Demonstration, ii. 1 36, s. 3 
 
 Not so clear as intuitive know- 
 ledge, 136, s.4-6 ; 137, s. 7 
 Intuitive knowledge necessary 
 in each step of a demonstra- 
 tion, 137, s. 7 
 Not limited to quantity, 138, 
 
 s. 9 
 Why that has been supposed, 
 
 138, s. 10 
 Not to be expected in all cases, 
 
 249, s. 10 
 What, 486, s. 15 
 Demonstrative knowledge, ii. 135 
 Descartes, his classification of ideas, 
 
 i. 134 
 Desire, i. 353, s. 6 
 
 Is a state of uneasiness, 877, 
 
 8. 31, 32 
 Is moved only by happiness, 
 
 383, s. 41 
 How far, 384, s. 43 
 How to be raised, 389, s. 46 
 Misled by wrong judgment, 399, 
 s. 60 
 Despair, i. 356, s. 11 
 Dictionaries, how to be made, ii. 
 
 126, s. 25 
 Discerning, i. 270, s. 1 
 
 The foundation of some general 
 maxims, 270, s. 1 
 Discourse cannot be between two 
 men, who have different names 
 for the same idea, or dififerent 
 ideas for the same name, i. 233, 
 S.5 
 Discoveries, extent of men's, how 
 
 limited, i. 200 
 Disembodied souls, notion of, i. 214 
 Disposition, i. 420, s. 10 
 Disputation. See Logic. 
 Disputing: the art of disputing 
 prejudicial to knowledge, i. 
 514, 8. 6-9 
 Destroys the use of language, 
 523, s. 10 
 Disputes, whence, s. 28 
 Disputes, multiplicity of them, 
 owing to the abuse of words, 
 ii. 107, s. 22 
 Are most about the signification 
 of words, 116, s. 7
 
 508 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Distance, i. 284, s. 3 
 Distinct ideas, i. 499, s. 4 
 Divine law the measure of sin and 
 
 duty, i. 486 
 Divisibility of matter incomprehen- 
 sible, i. 443, s. 31 
 Dreaming, i. 215, s. 13 
 
 Seldom in some men, i. 215, 
 s. 14 
 Dreams for the most part in-a- 
 tional, i. 217, s. 16 
 
 In dreams no ideas but of sensa- 
 tion or reflection, 218, s. 17 
 Duelling, condemnation of, i. 494 
 Duration, i. 300, s. 1, 2 
 
 ^^^lence we get the idea of dura- 
 tion, 300, s. 3-5 
 
 Not from motion, 307, s. 16 
 
 Its measure, 307, s. 17, 18 
 
 Any regular periodical appear- 
 ance, 308, s. 19, 20 
 
 None of its measures known to 
 be exact, 310, s. 21 
 
 We only guess them equal by the 
 train of our ideas, 310, s. 21 
 
 IMinutes, days, years, &c., not ne- 
 cessary to duration, 312, s. 23 
 
 Change of the measures of dura- 
 tion, change not the notion of 
 it, 312, s. 23 
 
 The measures of duration, as the 
 revolutions of the sun, may 
 be applied to duration before 
 the sun existed, 313 — 315, s. 
 24, 25, 28 
 
 Duration without beginning, i. 
 313, s.26 
 
 How we measure duration, 314, 
 s. 27-9, 
 
 Recapitulation, concerning our 
 ideas of duration, time, and 
 eternity, 316, s. 31 
 Duration and expansion compared, 
 i. 317, s. 1 
 
 They mutually embrace each 
 other, 324, s. 12 
 
 Considered as a line, 324, s. 11 
 
 Duration not conceivable by us 
 without succession, 324, s. 12 
 
 Education, partly the cause of un- 
 reasonableness, i. 533, s. 3 
 
 Effect, i. 454 s. 1, 
 Enonnities practised without re- 
 morse, instances of, i. 162 
 Enthusiasm, ii. 311, s. 1 
 Described, 314, s. 6 
 Its rise, 313, s. 5 
 Ground of persuasion must be 
 examined, and how, 316, s. 10 
 Firmness of it, no sufficient 
 
 proof, 318, 8. 12, 13 
 Fails of the evidence it pretends 
 to, 317, s. 11 
 Envy, i. 357, s. 13, 14 
 EiTor, what, ii. 321, s. 1 
 Causes of error, 321, s. 1 
 
 1. Want of proofs, 322, s. 2 
 
 2. Want of skill to use them, 
 
 324, s. 5 
 
 3. Want of will to use them, 
 
 325, s. 6 
 
 4. Wrong measures of probabi- 
 lity, 326, s. 7 
 
 Fewer men assent to en-ors, than 
 Ls supposed, 335, s. 18 
 Essence, real and nominal, ii. 17, s.l5 
 
 Supposition of unintelligible, real 
 essences of species, of no use, 
 18, s. 17 
 
 Real and nominal essences, in 
 simple ideas and modes always 
 the same, in substance always 
 different, 19, s. 18 
 
 Essences, how ingenerable and 
 incorraptible, 20, s. 19 
 
 Specific essences of mixed modes 
 are of men's making, and how, 
 30, s. 3 
 
 Though arbitraiy, yet not at 
 random, 33, s. 7 
 
 Of mixed modes, why called no- 
 tions, 37, s. 12 
 
 What, 41, s. 2 
 
 Relate only to species, 42, s. 4 
 
 Real essences, what, 44, s. 6 
 
 We know them not, 46, s. 9 
 
 Our specific essences of substan- 
 ces, nothing but c6llections of 
 sensible ideas, 52, s. 21 
 
 Nominal are made by the mind, 
 56, s. 26 
 
 But not altogether arbitrarily, 
 58, s. 28
 
 INDEX. 
 
 500 
 
 Essence — 
 
 Nominal essences of substances, 
 
 how made, 58, s. 28, 29 
 Are very various, (jO, s. 30, 31 
 Of species, are the abstract ideas, 
 
 the names stand for, 49, s. 12 ; 
 
 52, s. 19 
 Are of man's making, 49, s. 12 
 But founded in the agreement of 
 
 things, 50, s. 13 
 Eeal essences determine not our 
 
 species, 51, s. 18 
 Every distinct, abstract idea, with 
 
 a name, is a distinct essence 
 
 of a cUstinct species, 51, s. 14 
 Real essences of substances, not 
 
 to be known, 198, s. 12 
 Essential, what, 41, s. 2 ; 43, s. 5 
 Nothing essential to individuals, 
 
 42, s. 4 
 But to species, 44, s. 6 
 Essential difference, what, 43, 
 
 B. 5 
 Eternal verities, ii. 251, s. 14 
 Eternal Wisdom, proof of an, ii. 
 
 238 
 Eternity, in our disputes and rea- 
 sonings about it, why we are 
 
 apt to blunder, i. 505, s. 15 
 Whence we get its idea, 314, 
 
 s. 27 
 Evil, what, i. 384 , s. 42 
 Existence, an idea of sensation 
 
 and reflection, i. 239, s. 7 
 Our own existence we know in- 
 tuitively, ii. 230, s. 2 
 And cannot doubt of it, 230, s. 2 
 Of creatable things, knowable 
 
 only by our senses, 243, s. 1 
 Past existence known only by 
 
 memory, 250, s. 11 
 Expansion, boundless, i. 318, s. 2 
 Should be applied to space in 
 
 general, 297, s. 27 
 Experience often helps us, where 
 
 we think not that it does, i. 
 
 255, s. 8 
 Extasy, i. 351. s. 1 
 Extension: we have no distinct 
 
 ideas of very great, or very 
 
 little, i. 505, s. 16 
 
 Extension— 
 
 Of body, incomprehensible, 437, 
 s. 23, &c. 
 
 Denominations from place and 
 extension are many of them 
 relatives, i. 457, a. 5 
 
 And body not the same tiling, 
 2S9, s. 11 
 
 Its detinitionin signification, 290, 
 .s. 15 
 
 Of body and of space how distin- 
 guished, 232, s. 5; 297, s. 27 
 
 Faculties, discoveries dependent 
 on the different appUcation 
 of, men's, i. 20U 
 
 Faculties of discovery suited to 
 our state, i. 430 
 
 Faculties of the mind first exer- 
 cised, i. 277, s. 14 
 Are but powers, 370, s. 17 
 Operate not, 370, s. 18, 20 
 
 Fau-y money, borrowed knowledge 
 likened to, i. 203 
 
 Faith, what, ii. 281, s. 14 
 
 Not opposite to reason, 302, s. 24 
 As contra- distinguished to rea- 
 son, what, 303, s. 2 
 Cannot convince us of anything 
 contrary to our reason, 306 — 
 308, s. 5, 6, 8 
 Matter of faith is only divine 
 
 revelation, 309, s. 9 
 Tilings above reason are only 
 proper matters of faith, 308, 
 s. 7; 309, 8.9 
 
 Faith and justice not owned as 
 principles by aU men, L 156 
 
 Faith and knowledge, their dif- 
 ference, 269, s. 3 
 
 Faith and opinion, as distinguished 
 from knowledge, what, ii. 268, 
 269, s. 2, 3 [i. 291 
 
 Fallacy of taking words for things. 
 
 Falsehood, what it is, ii. 187, s. 9 
 
 Fancy, ii. 186, s. 8 
 
 Fantastical ideas, i. 508, s. 1. 
 
 Fear, i. 356, s. 10 
 
 Fetiches, ii. 220 
 
 Figurative speech, an abuse of 
 language, ii. 112, s. 34
 
 510 
 
 IXDEX. 
 
 Fi^re, i. 285, s. 5, 6 
 Finite, and infinite, modes of quan- 
 tity, i. 330, s. 1 
 All positive ideas of quantity 
 finite, 335, s. 8 
 Fire, nations ignorant of the use 
 
 of, i. 30 
 Forms, substantial, distinguish not 
 
 species, ii. 47, s. 10 
 Free, how far a man ia so, i. 372, 
 S.21 
 A man not free to will, or not 
 to will, 373, s. 22-24 
 Freedom belongs only to agents, 
 i.371, s. 19 
 Wherein it consists, 375, s. 27 
 Free will, an improper term, i. 
 390 
 Liberty belongs not to the wiU, 
 
 368, s. 14. 
 Wherein consists that which is 
 called free will, 373, s. 24 ; 
 389, s. 47 
 
 Genera and species, abstract ideas 
 are the essences of, ii. 15 ; 
 made in order to naming, 66 
 General assent the great argu- 
 ment for innate ideas, i. 135 ; 
 insuflticient, 135 
 Ideas, how made, i. 274, s. 9 
 Knowledge, what, ii. 169, s. 31 
 Propositions cannot be known to 
 be ti-ue, without knowing the 
 essence of the species, 189, s. 4 
 Words, how made, 7, s. 6-8 
 Belong only to signs, 14, s. 11 
 General and universal are creatures 
 
 of the imderstanding, ii. 14 
 Generation, i. 454, s. 2 
 Gentlemen should not be ignorant, 
 
 ii. 325, s. 6 
 Genus is but a partial conception 
 of what is in the species, ii. 62, 
 s. 32 
 Genus andspecies, what, ii. 13, s. 10 
 Are but Latin names for sorts, 
 35, s. 9 [63, s. 33 
 
 Adjusted to the end of speech. 
 Are made in order to general 
 names, 66, s. 39 
 
 God immovable, because infinite^ 
 
 i. 437, s. 21 
 Fills immensity as well as eter- 
 nity, 318, s. 3 
 His duration not like that of the 
 
 creatures, 324, s. 12 
 An idea of God, not innate, 183, 
 
 s. 8 
 The existence of a God evident, 
 
 and obvious to reason, 187, 
 
 s. 9 
 The notion of a God once got. is 
 
 the likeliest to spread and be 
 
 continued, 187, s. 9, 10 
 Idea of God late and imperfMt, 
 
 192, s. 13 
 Contraiy, 193—196, s. 15, 16 
 Inconsistent, 193, s. 15 
 The best notions of God, got by 
 
 thought and application, 193, 
 
 s. 15 
 Notions of God frequently not 
 
 worthy of him, 195, s. 16 
 The being of a God certain, s. 16, 
 
 195; proved, ii. 229, s. 1 
 As evident, as that the three 
 
 angles of a triangle are equal 
 
 to two right ones, i. 200, s. 22 
 Yea, as that two opposite angles 
 
 are equal, 196, s. 16 
 More certain than any other 
 
 existence without us, ii. 231 
 
 s. 6 
 The idea of God not the only 
 
 proof of his existence, 231 
 
 s. 7 
 The being of a God the founda 
 
 tion of morality and divinity, 
 
 231, s. 7 
 How we make our idea of God, 
 
 L 444, 445, s. 33, 34 
 G old is fixed ; the various signifi 
 
 cations of this proposition 
 
 ii. 73, s. 50 
 Water strained through it,i. 231 
 
 s. 4 
 Good and evil, what, i. 351, s. 2 
 
 384, s. 42 
 The greater good determines not 
 
 the wiU, 379, s. 35; 380, 
 
 s. 38; 386, s. 44
 
 INDEX. 
 
 511 
 
 Good and evil — 
 
 Why, 386, 8. 44 ; 389, s. 46 ; 
 398—405. 8. 59, 60, 64, 65-68 
 
 Twofold, 400, 8. 61 
 
 Works on the will only by de- 
 sire, 389, s. 46 
 
 Desire of good, how to be raised, 
 389, s. 46, 47 
 Government of our passions the 
 right improvement of liberty, 
 i. 393 
 
 Habit, i. 419, s. 10 
 
 Habitual actions pass often with- 
 out our notice, i. 258, s. 10 
 
 Hair, how it appears in a micro- 
 scope, i. 430, s. 11 
 
 Happiness, what, i. 384, s. 42 
 What happiness men pursue, 
 
 i. 384, 8. 43 
 How we come to rest in narrow 
 happiness, 399, s. 59, 60 
 
 Hardness, what, i. 231, s. 4 
 
 Hatred, i. 353, s. 5 ; 357, s. 14 
 
 Heat and cold, how the sensation 
 of them both is produced, by 
 the same water, at the same 
 time, i. 249, s. 21 
 
 Herbert, Lord, innate principles 
 of, examined, i. 170 
 
 History, what history of most au- 
 thority, ii. 278, s. 11 
 
 Hobbes's definition of conscience, 
 i. 161 ; his argument for the 
 existence of a Deity, iL 233 
 
 Hope, i. 355, s. 9 
 
 Hume, his criticism on Locke's 
 theory of the origin of ideas, 
 i. 8, 146 
 
 Hypotheses, their use, ii. 261, s. 13 
 Are to be built on matter of 
 fact, 211, s. 10 
 
 Ice and water whether distinct 
 
 species, ii. 50, s. 13 
 Idea, what, i. 255, s. 8 
 Ideas, their original in childrt^n, 
 i. 179, s. 2; 192, s. 13 
 None innate, 196, s. 17 
 Because not remembered, 197, 
 s. 20 
 
 Ideas — 
 
 Are wnat tne mini a employed 
 
 about in thinking, 205, s. 1 
 All from sensation or reflection, 
 
 205, 8. 2, &c. 
 How this is to be understood, 
 
 207 
 Their way of getting, observable 
 
 in children, i. 208, s. 6 
 W^hy some have more, some 
 
 fewer, ideas, 209, s. 7 
 Of reflection got late, and in 
 
 some very negligently, 210,s.8 
 Their beginning and increase in 
 
 children, 221—223, s. 21-24 
 Tlieir original in sensation and 
 
 reflection, 222, s. 24 
 Of one sense, 226, s. 1 
 Want names, 227, s. 2 
 Of more than one sense, 233 
 Of reflection, 234, s. 1 
 Of sensation and reflection, 234, 
 
 s. 1 
 As in the mind, and in things, 
 
 must be distinguished, 239, s. 7 
 Not always resemblances, 246, 
 
 8. 15, &c. 
 Which are first, is not material 
 
 to know, 255, s. 7 
 Of sensation often altered by the 
 
 judgment, 255, s. 8 
 Principally those of sight, 257, 
 
 s. 9 
 Of reflection, 277, s. 14 
 Simple ideas men agree in, 298, 
 
 s. 28 
 Moving in a regular train in our 
 
 mincls, 304, s. 9 
 Such as have degrees, want 
 
 names, 346, s. 6 
 Why some have names, and 
 
 others not, 346, s. 7 
 Original, 414, s. 73 
 All complex ideas resolvable into 
 
 simple, 419, s. 9 
 WJjat simple ideas have been 
 
 most modified, 420, s. 10 
 Our complex idea of God, and 
 
 other spirits, common in every 
 
 thing, but infinity, 446, s. 36 
 Clear and obscure, 499, s. 2
 
 512 
 
 Ideas — 
 Distinct and confused, 499, s. 4 
 May be clear in one part, and ob- 
 scure in another, 504, s. ] 3 
 Ileal and fantastical, 508, s. 1 
 Simple are all real, 508, s. 2 
 And adequate, 511, s. 2 
 What ideas of mixed modes are 
 
 fantastical, 509, s. 4 
 What ideas of substances are 
 
 fantastical, 510, s. 5 
 Adequate and inadequate,51 0,8.1 
 How said to be in things, 511, s. 2 
 Modes are all adequate ideas, 
 
 512, s. 3 
 
 Unless as referred to names, 
 
 513, 514, s. 4, 5 
 
 Of substances inadequate, 518, 
 s. 11 
 
 1. As referred to real essen- 
 ces, 514, s. 6; 51C, s. 7 
 
 2. As referred to a collection 
 of simple ideas, 516, s. 8 
 
 Simple ideas are perfect tKTVTra, 
 
 519, s. 12 
 Of substances are perfect iKTvira, 
 
 519, s. 13 
 
 Of modes are perfect archetypes, 
 
 520, s. 14 
 
 True or false, 520, s. 1, &c. 
 
 When false, 529, 530, s. 21-5 
 
 As bare appearances in the mind, 
 
 neither true nor false, 521, s. 3 
 
 ■ As referred to other men's ideas, 
 
 or to real existence, or to real 
 
 essences, may be true or false, 
 
 521, s. 4, 5 
 
 Reason of such reference, 522, 
 523, 8. 6-8 
 
 Simple ideas referred to other 
 men's ideas, least apt to be 
 false, 523, s. 9 
 
 Complex ones, in this respect 
 more apt to be false, espe- 
 cially those of mixed modes, 
 523, s. 10 
 
 Simple ideas referred to exist- 
 ence, are all true, 525, s. 14; 
 526, s. 16 
 
 Though they should be different 
 in different men, 525, s. 15 
 
 Ideas — 
 
 Complex ideas of modes are all 
 true, 527, s. 17 
 
 Of substances when false, 529, 
 s. 21, &c. 
 
 When right or wrong, 530, s. 2G 
 
 That we are incapable of, ii. 160, 
 s. 23 
 
 That we cannot attain, because 
 of their remoteness, ii. 160, 
 s. 24 
 
 Because of their minuteness, 161, 
 8. 25 
 
 Simple have a real conformitj' 
 to things, 171, s. 4 
 
 And all others, but of sub- 
 stances, 171, s. 5 
 
 Simple cannot be got by defini- 
 tion of words, 25, s. 11 
 
 But only by experience, 28, s. 14 
 
 Of mixed modes, why most com- 
 pounded, 28, s. 13 
 
 Specific, of mixed modes, how at 
 first made : instance in kin- 
 neah and niouph, 69, s. 44 
 
 Of substances : instance in za- 
 hab, 71, s. 46 ; 72, s. 47 
 
 Simple ideas and modes have all 
 abstract, as well as concrete, 
 names, 78, s. 2 
 
 Of substances, have scarce any 
 abstract names, 78 
 
 Different in different men, 86, 
 s. 13 
 
 Our ideas abnost all relative, 
 i. 361, 8. 3 
 
 Particulars are first in the mind, 
 ii. 83, 8. 9 
 
 General are imperfect, 83, s. 9 
 
 How positive ideas may be from 
 privative causes, i. 241, s. 4 
 
 The use of this term not dan- 
 gerous, i. 242, 8. 1, &c. It is 
 titter than the word notion, 
 i. 242, s. 6. Other words as 
 liable to be abused as this, 
 i. 242, 8. 6. Yet it is con- 
 demned, both as new and not 
 new, 243, s. 1. The same with 
 notion, sense, meaning, &c., 
 u. 129, 8. 1
 
 INDEX. 
 
 513 
 
 Identical propositions teach no- 
 thing, ii. 219, s. 2 
 Identity, not an innate idea, i. 
 ISO- 182, s. 3-5 
 Of a plant, wherein it consists, 
 
 461, s. 4 
 Of animals, 462, s. 5 
 Of a man, 462, s. 6 ; 463, s. 8 
 Unity of substance does not al- 
 ways make the same identity, 
 463, 8. 7 
 Personal identity, 466, s. 9 
 Depends on the same conscious- 
 ness, 467, s. 10 
 Continued existence makes iden- 
 tity, 481, s. 29 
 And divei-sity, in ideas, the first 
 perception of the mind, ii. 129, 
 s. 4 
 Idiots and madmen, i. 276, s. 12, 
 
 13 
 Idolatry, origin of, i. 177 
 Incogitative beings, ii. 236 
 Ignorance, our ignorance infinitely 
 exceeds our knowledge, 'ii. 158, 
 s. 22 ' 
 Causes of ignorance, 159, s. 23 
 
 1. For want of ideas, 159, s. 23 
 
 2. For want of a discoverable 
 connexion between the ideas 
 we have, 164, s. 28 
 
 3. For want of tracing the ideas 
 we have, 167, s 30 
 
 Illation, what, ii. 282, s. 2 
 Immensity, i. 284, s. 4 
 
 How this idea is got, 331, s. 3 
 Immoralities of whole nations, i. 
 
 162, s.9 ; 165, s. 11 
 ImmortaUty, not annexed to any 
 
 shape, ii. 178, s. 15 
 Impenetrability, i. 179, s. 1 
 Imposition of opinions imreason- 
 
 able, ii. 273, s. 4 
 Impossibile est idem esse et non esse, 
 
 not the first thing known, i. 
 
 151, s. 25 
 Impossibility, not an innate idea, 
 
 i. 180, s. 3 
 Impression on the mind, what, i. 
 
 136, s.5 
 Inadequate ideas, i, 498, s. 1 
 
 Incompatibility, how far knowable, 
 
 ii. 151, s. 15 
 Tndividuationis princijumn, is ex- 
 istence, L 460, 8. 3 
 Infallible judge of controversies, 
 
 i. 190, s. 12 
 Inference, what, ii. 266, 267, s. 2-4 
 Infinite, whj' the idea of infinite 
 not a]5plicable to other ideas 
 as well as those of quantity, 
 since they can be as often re- 
 peated, i. 333, s. 6 
 
 The idea of infinity of space 
 or number, and of space or 
 number infinite, must be dis- 
 tinguished, 334, s. 7 
 
 Our idea of mfinite, very ob- 
 scure, 335, s. 8 
 
 Number furnishes us with the 
 clearest ideas of infinite, 336, 
 8. 9 
 
 The idea of infinite, a growing 
 idea, 337, s. 12 
 
 Our idea of infinite, partly posi- 
 tive, partly comparative, partly 
 negative, 339, s. 15 
 
 ^Vhy some men think they have 
 an idea of infinite duration, but 
 not of infinite space, 342, s. 20 
 
 Why disputes about infinity are 
 usually perplexed, 343, s. 21 
 
 Our idea of infinity has its ori- 
 ginal in sensation and reflec- 
 tion, 344, s. 22 
 
 We have no positive idea of infi- 
 nite, 338, s. 13, 14; 340, s. 16 
 Infinity, why more conmionly al- 
 lowed to duration than to ex- 
 pansion, i. 319, s. 4 
 
 How applied to God by us, 330, 
 s. 1 
 
 How we get this idea, 331, s. 
 2, 3 
 
 The infinity of number, duration, 
 and space, ditfei'ent ways con- 
 sidered, 325, 326, s. 10, 11 
 Innate truths must be the first 
 known, i. 152, s. 26 
 
 Principles to no purpose, if men 
 can be ignorant or doubtful of 
 them, 167, s. 13 
 
 2l
 
 514 
 
 INDEX, 
 
 Innate — 
 
 Principles of my Lord Herbert 
 
 examined, 170, s. 15, &c. , 
 Moral rules to no purpose, if ef- 
 faceable, oralterable,173,s. 20 
 Propositions must be distin- 
 guished from other by their 
 clearness and usefulness, 203, 
 s.24 
 The doctrine of innate principles 
 of iU consequence, 203, s. 21: 
 Instant, what, i. 305, s. 10 
 And continual change, 306, a. 
 13-15 
 Intuitive knowledge, ii. 134, s. 1 
 
 Our highest certainty, 298, s. 14 
 Invention, wherein it consists, i. 
 
 267, S.8 
 Iron, of what advantage to man- 
 kind, ii. 260, s. 11 
 
 Joy, i. 354, s. 7 
 
 Judgment : wi-ong judgments, in 
 reference to good and evil, 
 i. 398, s. 58 
 Eight judgment, iL 273, s. 4 
 One cause of wrong judgment, 
 
 272, s. 3 
 Wherein it consists, 265-267 
 Judgment, day of, speculations on 
 
 the, i. 477 
 Justice, Locke's narrow and im- 
 perfect view of, ii. 154 
 
 Kinneah and niouph, ii. 70 
 Knowledge has a great connexion 
 with words, ii. 109, s. 25 
 
 The author's definition of it ex- 
 plained and defended, note. 
 
 How it differs from faith, 268, 
 s. 2, 3 ; note 
 
 What, 129, s. 2 
 
 How much our knowledge de- 
 pends on our senses, 124, s. 23 
 
 Actual, 131, s. 8 
 
 Habitual, 131, s. 8 
 
 Habitual, twofold, 132, s. 9 
 
 Intuitive, 134, s. 1 
 
 Intuitive, the clearest, 134, s. 1 
 
 Intuitive, uresistible, 134, s. 1 
 
 Demonstrative, 135, s. 2 
 
 Knowledge-r 
 
 Of general truths, is all either 
 intuitive or demonstrative, 
 140, s. 14 
 
 Of particular existences, is sen- 
 sitive, 140, s. 14 
 
 Clear ideas do not always' produce 
 clear knowledge, 142, s. 15 
 
 What kind of knowledge we have 
 of nature, 322, s. 2 
 
 Its beginning and progress, i. 
 277, 8. 15-17; 142, s. 15, 16 
 
 Given us, in the faculties to at- 
 tain it, 190, s. 12 
 
 Men's knowledge according to 
 the employment of their facul- 
 ties, 200, 8. 22 
 
 To be got only by the application 
 of our ovm thought to the con- 
 templation of things, 202, s. 23 
 
 Extent of human knowledge, 134 
 
 Our knowledge goes not beyond 
 our ideas, 134, s. 1 
 
 Nor beyond the perception of 
 their agreement or disagree- 
 ment, 135, s. 2 
 
 Reaches not to all our ideas, 136, 
 s. 3 
 
 Much less to the reality of things, 
 137, s. 6 
 
 Yet very improvable if right 
 ways are taken, 137, s. 6 
 
 Of CO- existence very najTow, 
 148, 149, s. 9-11 
 
 And therefore, of substances veiy 
 narrow, 150, s. 14 
 
 Of other relations indetermina- 
 ble, 153, s. 18 
 
 Of existence, 158, s. 21 
 
 Certain and universal, where to 
 be had, 166, s. 29 
 
 111 use of words, a great hinder- 
 ance of knowledge, 168, s. 30 
 
 General, where to be got, 169, 
 s. 31 
 
 Lies only in our thoughts, 198, 
 s. 13 
 
 Reality of our knowledge, 169— 
 181 
 
 Of mathematical truths, how 
 real, 172, s. 6
 
 INDEX. 
 
 .515 
 
 Knowledge — 
 Of morality, real, 172, s. 7 
 Of substances, how far real, 
 
 175, s. 12 
 
 \Vliat makes our knowledge real, 
 
 170, s. 3 
 CJonsidering things, and not 
 
 names, the way to knowledge, 
 
 176, s. 13 
 
 Of sulistance, wherein it con- 
 sists, 175, 8. 11 
 ^Vhat required to any tolerable 
 knowledge of substances, 199, 
 s. 14 
 Self-evident, 201, s. 2 
 Of identity and diversity, as 
 large as our ideas, 148, s. 8; 
 202, s. 4 
 Wherein it consists, 202 
 Of CO- existence, verv scanty, 
 
 204, 8. 5 
 Of relations of modes, not so 
 
 scanty, s. 6, 204 
 Of real existence, none, 205, s. 7 
 Begins in particulars, 205, s. 9 
 Intuitive of our own existence, 
 
 229, s. 3 
 Demonstrative of a God, 228, s. 1 
 Improvement of knowledge, 
 
 252—263 
 Not improved by maxims, 252, 
 
 s. 1 
 Why so thought, 253, s. 2 
 Knowledge improved only by 
 perfecting and comparing 
 ideas, 256, s. 6 ; 262, s. 14 
 And finding their relations, 256, 
 
 S.7 
 By intermediate ideas, 262, s. 14 
 In substances, how to be im- 
 proved, 257, 8. 9 
 Partly necessary, partly volun- 
 tary, 263, 264, 8. 1, 2 
 WTiy some, and so little, 264, s. 2 
 How increased, 275, s. 6 
 
 Language, why it changes, ii. 94, 
 s. 1 
 WTierein it consists, 1, s, 1-3 
 Its use, 33, s. 7 
 Its imperfections, 79, s. 1 
 
 Language — 
 
 Double use, 79, s. 1 
 
 The use of language destroyed 
 by the subtilty of disputing, 
 98, 8. 6 ; 98, s. 8 
 
 Ends of language, 108, s. 23 
 
 Its imijerfections not easy to be 
 curoil, 114, s. 2; 114, s. 4-6 
 
 The cure of them necessai-y to 
 philosophy, 114, s. 3 
 
 To use no word without a clear 
 and distinct idea annexed to it, 
 is one remedy of the imperfec- 
 tions of language, 117, s. 8, 9 
 
 Propriety in the use of words, 
 another remedy, 118, s. 11 
 Law of natiu-e generally allowed, 
 i. 160, 8. 6 
 
 There is, though not innate, 
 167, 6. 13 
 
 Its enforcement, 485, s. 6 
 Learning — the Ul state of learning 
 in these latter ages, ii. 79, &c. 
 
 Of the schools, lies chiefly in the 
 abuse of words, S3, &c. 
 
 Such learnmg of ill consequence, 
 84, 8. 10 
 Liberty, what, i. 365, s. 8-12 ; 
 369, s. 15 
 
 Belongs not to the will, 368, s. 14 
 
 To be determined by the result 
 of our own deliberation, is no 
 restraint of liberty, 390—392, 
 s. 48-50 
 
 Founded in a power of suspend- 
 ing our particular desires, 
 389, 8. 47 ; 392, s. 51, 52 
 Light, its absm'd definitions, ii. 24, 
 s. 10 
 
 In the mind, what, 319, s. 13 
 
 Excess of, destructive to the or- 
 gans of vision, L 237 ; Sir I. 
 Newton's experiments, 237 
 Logic has introduced obscurity into 
 languages, ii. 97, s. 6, 7 
 
 And hiudered knowledge, 97, s. 7 
 Love, i. 352, s. 4 
 
 Lucian's burlesque history of Py- 
 thagoras, i. 182 
 
 Madness, i. 276, s. 13. Opposition 
 2l2
 
 iie" 
 
 INDEX, 
 
 Madness — 
 
 to reiison deserves that name, 
 534, s. 4 
 Magisterial, the most knowing are 
 least magisterial, ii. 273, s. 4 
 Making, i. 454, s. 2 _ 
 Malebranche, examination of his 
 opinion of seeing all things in 
 God, ii. 413, 459 
 Malotru, the abbot, notice of, ii. 57 
 Man not the product of blind 
 chance, ii. 231, s. 6 
 The essence of man is placed in 
 
 his shape, 179, s. 16 
 We know not his real essence, 
 41, s. 3; 53, s. 22; 57, s. 27 
 The boundaries of the human spe- 
 cies not determined, 57, s. 27 
 What makes the same individual 
 man, i. 476, s. 21; 481, s. 29 
 The same man may be different 
 persons, 475, s. 19 
 Mathematics, their methods, ii. 
 256, a. 7. Improvement, 262, 
 8. 15 
 Matter, incomprehensible, both in 
 its cohesion and divisibility, i. 
 437, s. 23 ; 442, 443, s. 30, 31 
 What, ii. 87, s. 15 
 WTiether it may think, is not to 
 
 be known, 143, s. 6 
 Cannot produce motion, or any 
 
 thing else, 236, s. 10 
 And motion cannot produce 
 
 thought, 236, s. 10 
 Not eternal, 241, s. 18 
 Maxims, ii. 214—217, s. 12-15 
 Not alone self-evident, 202, s. 3 
 Are not the truths first known, 
 
 205, s. 9 
 
 Not the foundation of our know- 
 ledge, 206, s. 10 
 AVherein their evidence consists, 
 
 206, s. 10 
 
 Their use, 208—215, a. 11, 12 _ 
 Why the most general self-evi- 
 dent propositions alone pass 
 for maxims, 208, s. 11 
 Are commonly proofs, only where 
 there is no need of proofs, 
 - 216, s. 15 
 
 Maxims — 
 
 Of little use, with cle<ur terms, 
 
 018 p 10 
 
 Of dangerous use, with doubtful 
 
 terms, 214, s. 12; 219, s. 20 
 
 * When first known, L 138, &c., 
 
 s. 9-13; 141, s.14; 143, s. 16 
 
 How they gain assent, 143, s. 
 
 21, 22 
 Made from particular observa- 
 tions, 143, s. 21, 22 
 Not in the understanding before 
 they are actually known, 148, 
 s. 22 
 Neither their terms nor ideas 
 
 innate, 149, s. 23 -^ 
 Least known to children and il- 
 literate people, 152, s. 27 
 Memory, i. 262, a. 2 
 
 Attention, pleasure, and pain, 
 settled ideas in the memory, 
 263, 8. 3 
 And repetition, 264, s. 4; 266, 
 
 s. 6 
 Difference of, 264, s. 4, 5 
 In remembrance, the mind some- 
 times active, sometimes pas- 
 sive, 266, s. 7 
 Its necessitv, 264, s. 5; 267, s. 8 
 Defects, 267, s. 8, 9 
 In brutes, 269, s. 10 
 Men must know and think for 
 
 themselves, i. 202 
 Metaphysics, and school divinity, 
 filled with uninsti-uctive pro- 
 positions, ii. 225, s. 9 
 Method used in mathematics, ii. 
 
 256, s. 7 
 Mind, the quickness of its actions, 
 L 258, s. 10 
 Steps by which it attains several 
 
 truths, i. 142 
 Operations of the, one source of 
 ideas, 207 
 Minutes, hours, days, not neces- 
 sary to duration, i. 312, s. 23 
 Miracles, ii 281, s. 13 
 Misery, what, i. 384, s. 42 
 Misnaming disturbs not the cer- 
 tainty of our knowledge, ii. 174 
 Modes, mixed, i. 415, s. 1
 
 ISDEX, 
 
 517 
 
 '^f'-z'-'by the mimJ. 415, s. ? 
 i3onietimes got by the explication 
 
 of their names, 416, 8. 3 
 Whence its unity, 417, s. 4 
 Occasion of mixed modes,417, s. 5 
 Their ideas, how got, 419, s. 9 
 Simple and complex, 281, s, 5 
 Simple modes, 282, 3. 1 
 Of motion, 345, s. 2 
 
 Mole, popular en-or regarding the, 
 iL 159 
 
 Monsters, ii 17, 179 
 
 Moral good and evil, what, ii. 485, 
 
 8.5 
 
 Three rules whereby men judge 
 of moral rectitude, 4S6, s. 7 
 
 Beings, how founded on simple 
 ideas of sensation and reflec- 
 tion, 493, 494, s. 14, 15 
 Moral rijes not self-evident, i. 158, 
 8. 4 
 
 Variety of opinions concerning 
 moral rules, 159, s. 5, 6 
 
 If innate, cannot with public 
 
 allowance be transgressed, 
 
 166, 167, s. 11, 13 
 
 Moral truth, ii. 187 
 
 Morality, capable of demonstration, 
 
 u. 299, 3.16; 153, s.l8; 257, 
 
 8.8 
 
 The proper study of mankind, 
 259, s. 11 
 
 Of actions, in their conformity 
 to a rule, i. 494, s. 15 
 
 Mistakes in moral notions, owing 
 to names, 495, s. 16 
 
 Discourses in morality, if not 
 clear, the fault of the speaker, 
 ii. 121, 8. 17 
 
 Hinderances of demonstrative 
 treating of morality : 1. Want 
 of marks; 2. Complexedness, 
 155,3.19; 3.1nterest,157,8.20 
 
 C3iange of names in morality, 
 changes not the nature of 
 things, 187, s. 9 
 
 And mechanism, hard to be re- 
 conciled, i. 170, s. 14 
 Secured amidst men's wrong 
 judgments, 407, 3. 70 
 
 Motion, slow or very swift, why not 
 
 perceived, L 304, 305, s. 7-11 
 Voluntary, inexplicable, ii. 242, 
 
 8. 19 
 Its absurd definitions, 23, s. 8, 9 
 Mureti, his account of a person 
 
 with an extraordinaiy memory, 
 
 i. 265 
 Mutual charity and forbearance 
 
 inculcated, ii. 273 
 
 Naming of ideas, i. 274, s. 8 
 Names, moral, established by law, 
 not to be varied from, iL 174, 
 8. 10 
 Of substances, standing for real 
 essences, are not capable to 
 convey certainty to the under- 
 standing, 184, 8. 5 
 For nominal essencea will make 
 some, though not many, cer- 
 tain propositions, 185, s. 6 
 Why men substitute names for 
 real essences, which they know 
 not, 104, s. 19 
 Two false suppositions, in such 
 
 an use of names, 106, s. 21 
 A particular name to every par- 
 ticular thing impossible, 9, s. 2 
 And useless, 9, s. 3 
 Proper names, where used, 5, 10, 
 
 8. 4 
 Specific names are affixed to the 
 
 nominal essence, 18, s. 16 
 Of simple ideas and substances, 
 
 refer to things, 21, s. 2 
 ^Vhat names stand for both real 
 
 nominal essence, 22, s. 3 
 Of simple ideas not capable of 
 
 definitions, 22, s. 4 
 ^Vhy, 23, s. 7 
 Of least doubtful signification, 
 
 28, s. 15 
 Have few accents in linea prce- 
 
 dicamentali, 29, s. 16 
 Of complex ideas, may be de- 
 fined, 26, s. 12 
 Of mixed modes stand for arbi- 
 trary ideas, 30, s. 2, 3 ; 69, s. 44 
 Tie together the parts of their 
 complex ideas, 36, s. 10
 
 518 
 
 IJ^DEX. 
 
 Names — 
 
 Stand always for the real essence, 
 38, s. 14 
 
 Why got, usually, before the 
 ideas are known, 38, s. 15 
 
 Of relations comprehended under 
 those ofmixed modes, 39, s. 16 
 
 General names of substances 
 stand for sorts, 40, s. 1 
 
 Xecessary to species, 66, s. 39 
 
 Proper names belong only to 
 substances, 68, s. 42 
 
 Of modes in their first applica- 
 tion, 69, s. 44, 45 
 
 Of substances in their first appli- 
 cation, 71, s. 46, 47 
 
 Specific names stand for different 
 things in different men, 72, s.48 
 
 Are put in the place of the thing 
 supposed to have the real es- 
 sence of the species, 73, s. 49 
 
 Of mixed modes, doubtful often, 
 81, s. 6 
 
 Because they want standards in 
 nature, 81, s. 7 
 
 Of substances, doubtful, 85 — 87, 
 s. 11, 14 
 
 In their philosophical use, hard 
 to have settled significations, 
 87, 8. 15 
 
 Instance, liquor, 88, s. 16 ; gold, 
 89, s. 17 
 
 Of simple ideas, why least doubt- 
 ful, 90, s. 18 
 
 Least compounded ideas have 
 
 the least dubious names, 91, 
 
 s. 19 
 
 Natural philosophy, not capable of 
 
 science, ii. 162, s. 26 ; 258, s. 10 
 
 Yet very useful, 260, s. 12 
 
 How to be improved, i.363, 9. 12 
 
 What has hindered its improve- 
 ment, i. 363, s. 12 
 Navarrete, uncharitable judgment 
 
 of, ii. 323 
 Necessity, i. 368, s. 13 
 Negative terms, ii. 2, s. 4 
 
 Names signify the absence of 
 positive ideas, i. 242, s. 5 
 Nervous fluid, hypothesis of the, 
 i. 241; ii. 89 
 
 Nevrton's, Sir Isa.-ic, dang«^UB ex- 
 
 peri'nent on lii?; '•yps, i. S?, ' 
 Nonis, nis assertion of iVlale- 
 branche's opinion, remarks on, 
 ii. 459 
 Nothing ; that nothing cannot pro- 
 duce any thing, is demonstra- 
 tion, il 230, 9. 3 
 Notions, i. 415, s, 2 
 Number, i. 325 
 
 Modes of, the most distinct 
 ideas, 416, s. 3 
 
 Demonstrations in numbers, the 
 most determinate, 417, s. 4 
 
 The general measure, 330, s. 8 
 
 Affords the clearest idea of infi- 
 nity, 336, s. 9 
 
 Numeration, what, 327, s. 5 
 
 Names necessary to it, 327, s. 
 5, 6 
 
 And order, 329, s. 7 
 
 Why not early in children, and 
 in some never, 329, s. 7 
 
 Obscurity, unavoidable in ancient 
 
 authors, ii. 84, s. 10 
 The cause of it in our ideas, i. 
 
 499, s. 3 
 Obstinate, they are most, who have 
 
 least examined, ii. 272, s. 3 
 Opal, description of the, ii. 151 
 Opinion, what, ii. 269, s. 3 
 
 How opinions grow up to prin- 
 ciples, i. 175, s. 22-26 
 Of others, a wrong ground of 
 
 assent, ii. 270, s. 6 ; 335, s. 17 
 Organs ; our organs suited to our 
 
 state, i. 430, s. 12, 13 
 Ostracism, the Grecian, explained, 
 
 i. 418 
 
 Pain, present, works presently, 
 i. 402, s. 64 
 Its use, 236, s. 4 
 
 Paley, his false definition of virtue, 
 i. 159 
 
 Parrot mentioned by Sir W. T., 
 i. 464, s. 8 
 Holds a rational discourse, 465 
 
 Particles join parts, or whole sen- 
 tences, together, ii. 74, s. 1
 
 INDEX. 
 
 519 
 
 Particles — 
 In them lies the beauty of well 
 
 speaking, ii. 74, s. 2 
 How their use is to be known, 
 
 76, a. 6 
 They express some action or pos- 
 ture of the mind, 75, s. 4 ; i. 268 
 Pascal, his great memory, i. 26, s. S) 
 Passion, i. 421, s. 11 
 Passions, how they lead us into 
 error, ii. 279, s. 11 
 Turn on pleasure and pain, i. 
 
 352, s. 3 
 Are seldom single, 382, s. 39 
 Perception threefold, i. 363, s. 5 
 In perception, the mind for the 
 
 most part passive, 253, s. 1 
 Is an unpression made on the 
 
 mind, 253, s. 3, 4 
 In the womb, 254, s. 5 
 Difference between it, and innate 
 
 ideas, 254, s. 6 
 Puts the difference between the 
 animal and vegetable king- 
 dom, 258, 8. 11 
 The several degrees of it, show 
 the wnsdom and goodness of 
 , the Maker, 259, s. 12 
 Belongs to all animals, 259, s. 
 
 12-14 
 The first inlet of knowledge, 261, 
 s. 15 
 Person, what, i. 466, s. 9 
 A forensic term, 479, s. 26 
 The same consciousness alone 
 makes the same person, 469, 
 s. 13 ; 477, s. 23 
 The same soul without the same 
 consciousness, makes not the 
 same person, 470, s. 14, &c. 
 Reward and punishment follow 
 personal identity, 474, s. 18 
 Phantastical ideas, i. 508, s. 1 
 Philosophical law, the measure of 
 
 vii-tue and vice, i. 487 
 Pictures, use of, in giving clear 
 
 ideas of objects, ii. 127 
 Place, i. 286, s. 7, 8 
 Use of place, 287, s. 9 
 Nothing but a relative position, 
 288, s. 10 
 
 Place- 
 Sometimes taken for the sjjace 
 body fills, 288, s. 10 
 
 Twofold, 320, s. 6, 7 
 Pleasin-e and pain, i. 351, 3.1 ; 357, 
 s. 1^, 16 
 
 Join themselves to most of our 
 ideas, 235, s. 2 
 Pleasure, why joined to several ac- 
 tions, i. 235, 3. 3 
 Positive ideas from privative causes, 
 
 i. 240, 242 
 Power, how we come by its idea, 
 I 359, s. 1 
 
 Active and passive, 360, s. 2 
 
 No passive power in God, no ac- 
 tive in matter ; both active and 
 passive in spirits, 360, s. 2 
 
 Our idea of active power clearest 
 from reflection, 362, s. 4 
 
 Powers operate not on powers, 
 370, s. 18 
 
 Make a great part of the ideas of 
 substances, 427, s. 7 
 
 Why, 428, 8. 8 
 
 An idea of sensation and reflec- 
 tion, 239, s. 8 
 Practical principles not innate, i. 
 154, s.l 
 
 Not universally assented to, 156, 
 s. 2 
 
 Are for operation, 156, s. 3 
 
 Not agreed, 169, s. 14 
 
 Different, 174, s. 21 
 Principium individuationis, i. 460 
 Principles, not to be received with- 
 out strict examination, iL 254, 
 s. 4 ; 327, s. 8 
 
 The ill consequences of wrong 
 principles, 327, s. 9, 10 
 
 None innate, i. 134, s. 1 
 
 None universally assented to, 
 135, s. 2-4 
 
 How ordinarily got, 175,s. 22,&c 
 
 Are to be examined, 177, s. 26, 27 
 
 Not innate, if the ideas they are 
 made up of, are not iimate, 
 179,8.1 
 Privative terms, ii. 2, s. 4 
 Probability, what, ii. 267, s. 1, 3 
 
 The grounds of, 269, s. 4
 
 520 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Probability — 
 
 In matter of fact, 270, s. 6 
 
 How we are to judge in probabi- 
 lities, 269, s. 5 
 
 Difficulties in probabilities, 277, 
 s. 9 
 
 Grounds of probability in specu- 
 lation, 279, s. 12 
 
 Wrong measures of probability, 
 326, 8. 7 
 
 How evaded by prejudiced 
 minds, 332, s. 13, 14 
 Proofs, ii. 136, s. 3 
 Properties of specific essences, not 
 known, ii. 52, s. 19 
 
 Of things very numerous, i. 518, 
 s. 10 ; 529, 8. 24 
 Propositions, identical, teach no- 
 thing, ii. 244, B. 2 
 
 Generical, teach nothing, '222, 
 s. 4!; 227, s. 13 
 
 Wherein a part of the definition 
 is predicated of the subject, 
 teach nothing, 223, s. 5, 6 
 
 But the signification of the word, 
 
 224, s. 7 
 
 Concerning substances, generally 
 either trifling or uncertain, 
 
 225, s. 9 
 
 Merely verbal, how to be known, 
 227, s, 12 
 
 Abstract terms, predicated one 
 of another, produce merely 
 verbal propositions, 227, s. 12 
 
 Or part of a complex idea, pre- 
 dicated of the whole, 222, s. 4 ; 
 227, 8. 13 
 
 More propositions, merely ver- 
 bal, thanissuspected,227, s. 13 
 
 Universal propositions concern 
 not existence, 228, s.'l 
 
 What propositions concern ex- 
 istence, 228 
 
 Certain propositions, concerning 
 existence, are particular ; con- 
 cerning abstract ideas, may be 
 general, 238, s. 13 
 
 Mental, 183, s. 3; 184, s. 5 
 
 Verbal, 183, s. 3; 184, a. 5 
 
 Mental, hard to be treated, 183, 
 s. 3, 4 
 
 Punishment, what, i. 485, s. 5 
 And reward, follow conscious- 
 ness, 474, 8. 18 ; 26, s. 489 
 An unconscious drunkard, why 
 punished, 476, s. 22 
 Pythagoras, his doctrine of the 
 transmigration of soxils, i. 180 ; 
 Lucian's burlesque, 182 
 
 Qualities : secondary qualities, their 
 connexion, or inconsistence, 
 unknown, ii. 149, s. 11 
 
 Of substances, scarce knowable, 
 but by experience, 150 — 153 
 s, 14, 16, 
 
 Of spiritual substances less than 
 of corporeal, 153, s. 17 
 
 Secondary, have no conceivable 
 connexion with the primary, 
 that produce them, 149, 150, 
 s. 12, 13; 164, s. 28 
 
 Of substances, depend on remote 
 causes, 175, s. 11 
 
 Not to be known by descriptions, 
 124, s. 21 
 
 Secondary, how far capable of 
 demonstration, 139, s. 11-13 
 
 What, i. 244, s. 13 
 
 How said to be in things, 508,8.2 
 
 Secondary, would be other, if we 
 could discover the minute parts 
 of bodies, 429, s. 11 
 
 Primary, 243, s. 9 
 
 How they produce ideas in us, 
 245, 8. 11, 12 
 
 Secondary qualities, '243, s. 13-15 
 
 Primaiy qualities resemble our 
 ideas, secondary not, 246, 8. 
 15,16 
 
 Three sorts of qualities in bodies, 
 250, 8. 23, i.e., primary, se- 
 condary, immediately perceiv- 
 able ; and secondary, medi- 
 ately perceivable, 252, s. 26 
 
 Secondary are bare powers, 250, 
 8. 23-25 
 
 Secondary have no discernible 
 coimexion with the first, 251, 
 s. 25 
 Quotations, how little to be relied 
 on, ii. 278, s. 11
 
 KHEX. 
 
 5m 
 
 Reading and study, thoughts con- 
 
 oeming, ii. 497 
 Real ideas, i. 520, s. 1, 2 
 Reality of knowledge, ii. 169; de- 
 monstration, 170 
 Reason, its various significations, 
 
 ii. 2S2, 8. 1 
 What, 282, a. 2 
 Reason is natural revelation, 
 
 313, s. 4 
 It must judge of revelation, 332, 
 
 s. 14, 15 
 It must be our last guide in every 
 
 thing, 332, 8. 14, 15 
 Four parts of reason, 283, b. 3 
 Where reason fails ua, 296, a. 9 
 Necessary m all but intuition, 
 
 298, s. 15 
 As contra- distinguished to faith, 
 
 what, 303, 8. 2 
 Helps us not to the knowledge of 
 
 innate truths, i. 136, s. 5-8 
 General ideas, general terms, and 
 
 reason, usually grow together, 
 
 142, s. 15 
 Reasoning, ii. 282 ; its four parts, 
 
 283 ; syllogism not the great 
 
 instrument of, 284; causes of 
 
 its failure, 296 
 Recollection, i. 343, s. 1- 
 Reflection, i. 207, s. 4 
 Related, i. 449, e. 1 
 Relation, i. 449, s. 1 
 Proportional, 482, s. 1 
 Natural, 482, s. 2 
 Instituted, 483, s. 3 
 Moa-aJ, 483, s. 4 
 Numerous, 496, s. 17 
 Terminate bi simple ideas, 496, 
 
 s.lS 
 Our clear ideas of relation, 497, 
 
 S.19 
 Names of relations doubtful, 497, 
 
 s. 19 
 Without correlative terms, not 
 
 so commonly observed, 449, 8.2 
 Different from the things related, 
 
 449, s. 4 
 Changes without any change in 
 
 the subject, 451, s. 5 
 Always between two, 451, s. 6 
 
 Relation — 
 
 All things cajwblc of relation, 
 451, 8. 7 
 
 The idea of tlio relation, often 
 clearer tliaii of the things re- 
 lated, 452, 8. 8 
 
 All terminate in simple ideas of 
 sensation and reflection, 453, 
 
 8.9 
 
 Relative, I 449, s. 1 
 
 Same relative terms taken for ex- 
 ternal denominations, 443, s.2 
 
 Some for absolute, 450, s. 3 
 
 How to be known, 453, s. 10 
 
 Many words, though seeming 
 absolute, are relatives, 451, 
 8. 3-5 
 Religion, all men have time to in- 
 quire into, ii. 323, s. 3.._ 
 
 But in many places are hindered 
 from inquiring, 324, b. 4 
 Remembrance, of great moment in 
 common life, i. 267, s. 8 
 
 What, 197, s. 20 ; 266, s. 7 
 
 Accounted a sixth sense, by 
 Hobbes, 263 
 Reputation, of great force in com- 
 mon life, ii. 492, s. 12 
 Restraint, i. 368, s. 13 
 Resurrection, the author's notion 
 of it, ii. 357 
 
 Not necessarily understood of 
 the same body, &c., 357. The 
 meaning of "his body," 2 Cor. 
 V. 10, 357 
 
 The same body of Christ arose, 
 and why, 357. How the scrip- 
 ture speaks about it, 376 
 Retention, i. 262 
 
 Revelation, an unquestionable 
 ground of assent, ii. 282, s. 14 
 
 Belief, no proof of it, 320, s. 15 
 
 Traditional revelation cannot 
 convey any new simple ideas, 
 304, s. 3 
 
 Not so sure as our reason or 
 senses, 305, s. 4 
 
 In things of reason, no need of 
 revelation, 306, s. 5 
 
 Cannot over- rule our clear know- 
 ledge, 306, s. 5; 309, e. 10
 
 522 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Revelation — 
 
 Must over-rule probabilities of 
 
 reason, 308, s. 8, 9 
 Revenge, instance of, i. 381 
 Reward, what, i. 485, s. 5 
 Rewards and punishments, future, 
 
 L 407, 477 
 Rhetoric, an art of deceiving, ii. 
 
 112, 8. 34 
 
 Sagacity, ii. 136, s. 3 
 
 Hobbes' account of, ii. 137 
 
 Saints, pretended, among the Turks, 
 their execrable lives, i. 164 
 Locke's inference disputed, 165 
 
 Same, whether substance, mode, 
 or concrete, i. 481, s. 28 
 
 Sand, white to the eye, peUucid in 
 a microscope, i. 430, s. 11 
 
 Scarlet, a blind man's definition 
 of, ii. 26 
 
 Sceptical, no one so sceptical as to 
 doubt his own existence, ii. 
 230, s. 2 
 
 Schools, wherein faulty, ii. 97, s. 
 6, &c. 
 
 Science, divided into a considera- 
 tion of nature, of operation, 
 and of signs, ii. 337 
 No science of natural bodies, 
 s. 26, 162 
 
 Scriptm-e ; interpretations of scrip- 
 ture not to be imposed, iL 93, 
 s. 23 
 
 Self, what m;dies it, i. 475, s. 20 ; 
 477,8.23-5 
 
 Self-love, i. 533, s. 2 
 
 Partly cause of unreasonableness 
 in us, i. 533, s. 2 
 
 Self-evident propositions, where to 
 be had, ii. 201, &c. 
 Neither needed nor admitted 
 proof, 218, s. 19 
 
 Sensation, i. 206, s. 3 
 
 Distinguishable from other per- 
 ceptions, ii. 140, s. 14 
 Explained, i. 249, s. 21 
 What, 347, s. 1 
 
 Senses: why we cannot conceive 
 other qualities, than the ob- 
 jects of our senses, i. 125, s. 3 
 
 Senses — 
 
 Learn to discern by exercise, ii. 
 
 124, a. 21 
 Much quicker would not be use- 
 ful to us, i. 430, s. 12 
 Our organs of sense suited to our 
 state, 430, s. 12, 13, 
 Sensible knowledge is as certain as 
 we need, ii. 248, s. 8 
 Goes not beyond the present act, 
 249, s. 9 
 Shame, L 358, s. 17 
 Siamese, unjustly accused of im- 
 piety, i. 186 ; their belief, 194 
 Sick and aged, murder of, among 
 
 certain nations, i. 163 
 Simple ideas, i. 224, s. 1 
 
 Not made by the mind,i. 224, s.2 
 Power of the mind over them, 
 
 282, 8. 1 
 The materials of all our know- 
 ledge, 239, s. 10 
 All positive, 239, s. 10 
 Very different from their causes, 
 241, s. 2, 3 
 Sin, with different men, stands for 
 different actions, i. 172, s. 19 
 Sleepwalking, i. 350 
 Smell, nature of the sense of, i. 227 
 Solidity, i. 228, s. 1 
 
 Inseparable from body, i. 228, 
 
 s.1 
 By it body fills space, 230, s. 2 
 This idea got by touch, 228, 3. 1 
 How distinguished from sjiace, 
 
 230, s. 3 
 How from hardness, 231, s. 4 
 Something from eternity, demon- 
 strated, ii. 233, s. 8 
 Sorrow, i. 354, s. 8 
 Sorts, the common names of sub- 
 stances stand for, ii. 40 ; the 
 essence of each sort is the ab- 
 stract idea, 41 
 Soul thinks not always, i. 210, s. 
 9, &c. 
 Not in sound sleep,212, s. 11, &c. 
 Its immateriality, we know not, 
 
 ii. 143, s. 6 
 Religion, not concerned in the 
 soul's immateriality, 145, s. 6
 
 INDEX. 
 
 523 
 
 Soul— 
 
 Our ignoranc2 about it, L 4S0, 
 8. 27 
 
 Tlie immortality of it, not proved 
 by reason, ii. 145, et scq. 
 
 It is brought to light by rovehv- 
 tion, ii. 145 
 Sound, its modes, i. 345, s. 3 
 Space, its idea got by sight and 
 touch, i. 283, s. 2 
 
 Its modificatiou, 284, s. 4 
 
 Not body, 289, s. 11, 12 
 
 Its parts inseparable, 289, s. 13 
 
 Immovable, 290, s. 14 
 
 Whether body, or spirit, 291, 8.16 
 
 \\Tiether substance, or accident, 
 291, s. 17 
 
 Infinite, 294, s. 21 ; 332, s. 4 
 
 Ideas of space and body dis- 
 tinct, 29tj, s. 24, 25 
 
 Considered as a solid, 324, 3. 11 
 
 Hard to conceive any real being 
 void of space, 324, s. 11 
 Species ; why changing one simple 
 idea of the complex one, is 
 thouglit to change the spe- 
 cies in modes but not in sub- 
 stances, ii. 104, s. 19 
 
 Of animals and vegetables, dis- 
 tinguished by figure, 59, s. 29 
 
 Of other tlungs, by colour, 59, 
 S.29 
 
 Made by the understanding, for 
 communication, 35, s. 9 
 
 No species of mixed modes with- 
 out a name, 36, s. 11 
 
 Of substances, are determined 
 by the nominal essence, 45-50, 
 &c., s. 7, 8, 11, 13 
 
 Not by substantial forms, 47,s. 10 
 
 Nor by the real essence, 50, s, 
 13 ; 55, s. 25 
 
 Of spirits, how distinguished, 
 47, s. 11 
 
 More species of creatures above 
 than below us, 49, s. 12 
 
 Of creatures very gradual, 49, s.l 2 
 
 What is necessary to the making 
 of species, by real essences, 
 51, 8. 14, &c. 
 
 Of animals and plants, not dis- 
 
 S[)ecic8 — 
 
 tinguished by projxigation, 
 54, 8. 23 
 
 Uf animals and vegetables, tlis- 
 tinguished priiicip:dly by the 
 shape and figure ; of other 
 thuigs, by the colour, 59, s, 29 
 
 Of man, likewise in part, 56, s.2(5 
 
 Instance, Abbot of St. M;irtiu, 
 57, s. 26 
 
 la but a partial conception of 
 what is in the individuals, 
 62, s. 32 
 
 It is the complex idea which the 
 name stands for, that makes 
 the species, ^64, s. 35 
 
 Man makes the species, or sorts, 
 65, s. 35-37 
 
 The foundation of it is in the si- 
 militude found iu things, 65, 
 s. 35-37 
 
 Every distinct abstract idea, a 
 diliereut species, 66, s. 38 
 Speech, its end, ii. 1, s. 1, 2 
 
 Proper speech, 8, s. 8 
 
 Intelligible, 8, s. 8 
 Spirits, the existence of, not know- 
 able, ii. 250, s. 12 
 
 How it is proved, 250, s. 12 
 
 Operation of spirits on bodies, 
 not conceivable, 164, s. 28 
 
 WTiat knowledge they have of 
 bodies, 124, s. 23. 
 
 Separate, how their knowledge 
 may exceed ours, i. 268, s. 9 
 
 W^e have as clear a notion of the 
 substance of spirit, as of body, 
 425, s. 5 
 
 A conjecture concerning one way 
 of knowledge wherein spirits 
 excel us, 432, s. 13 
 
 Our ideas of spirit, 434, s. 14 
 
 As clear as that of body, 434, 
 s. 14; 437, s. 22 
 
 Primary ideas belonging to spi- 
 rits, 436, s. 18 
 
 Move, 436, s. 19 
 
 Ideas of spirit and body, com- 
 pared, 437, 8. 22 ; 442, s. 30 
 
 Existence of, as easy to be admit- 
 ted as that of bodies, 440, 8.28
 
 524 
 
 INNEX. 
 
 Spirits — 
 
 We have no idea how spirits 
 communicate their thoughts, 
 U6, s. 36 
 
 Hqw far we are ignorant of the 
 being, species, and properties 
 of spirits, ii. 163, s. 27 
 
 The word spirit, does not ne- 
 cessarily denote immateriality, 
 38S 
 
 The scripture speaks of material 
 spirits, 388 
 Strasburg, the great clock at, ii. 42 
 Study, stories of extraordinary pas- 
 sion for, i. 385 
 Stnijidity, i. 267, s. 8 
 Substance, i. 422, s. 1 
 
 No idea of it, 196, s. 18 
 
 Not very knowable, 196, s. 18 
 
 Our certainty, concerning sub- 
 stances, reaches but a little 
 way, iL 175, s. 11, 12; 216, 
 s. 15 
 
 The confused idea of substance 
 in general, makes always a 
 pKu-t of the essence of the spe- 
 cies of substances, 52, s. 21 
 
 In. substances, we must rectify 
 the signification of their 
 names, by the things, more 
 than by definitions, 125, s. 24 
 
 Their ideas single, or collective, 
 i. 281, s. 6 
 
 We have no distinct idea of sub- 
 stance, 291, s. IS, 19 
 
 We have no idea of pure sub- 
 stance, 423, s. 2 
 
 Our ideas of the sorts of sub- 
 stances, 424, 425, s. 3, 4 ; 426, 
 s. 6 
 
 C^ervable, in our ideas of sub- 
 stances, 446, s. 37 
 
 Collective ideas of substances, 
 447, &c. 
 
 They are single ideas, 448, s. 2 
 
 Three sorts of substances, 459,s. 2 
 
 The ideas of substances, have a 
 double reference, 514, s. 6 
 
 The properties of substances, 
 nvunerous, and not ail to be 
 known, 518, s. 9, 10 
 
 Substance — 
 
 The perfectest ideas of sub- 
 stances, 427, s. 7 
 Three sorts of ideas make our 
 complex one of substances, 
 428, s. 9 
 Idea of it obscure, ii. 144 
 Not discarded by the Essay, 
 
 351 
 The author's account of it clear 
 as that of noted logicians, 
 351 
 We talk like chUdren about it, 
 
 356 
 The author makes not the being 
 of it depend on the fancies of 
 men, 352 
 The author's principles consist 
 with the certainty of its exist- 
 ence, 352 
 Subtilty, what, ii. 98, s. 8 
 Succession, an idea got chiefly from 
 the train of oui- ideas, i. 239, 
 s. 9 ; 303, s. 6 
 Which train is the measure of it, 
 306, s. 12 
 Summum bonum, wherein it con- 
 sists, i. 395, s. 55 
 Sun, the name of a species, though 
 
 but one, ii. 40, s. 1 
 Syllogism, no help to reasoning, 
 ii. 284, s. 4 
 The use of syllogism, ^284, s. 4 
 Inconveniences of syllogism, 284, 
 
 s. 4 
 Of no use in probabilitie8,293,s.5 
 Helps not to new discoveries, 
 
 294, s. 6 
 Or the improvement of our 
 
 knowledge, 294, s. 7 
 Whether in syllogism, the mid- 
 dle terms may not be better 
 placed, 295, s. 8 
 May be about particulars, 295, 
 
 Taste and smells, their modes, i. 
 
 346, s. 5 
 Taylor, Jeremy, on diversity of 
 
 opinion, ii. 273 
 Tears and weeping, i. 354
 
 INDEX. 
 
 525 
 
 Testimony, how it lessens its force, 
 
 ii. 277, 6. 10 
 Thinking, L 347 
 
 Modes of thinking, L 347, a. 1 ; 
 
 348, 8. 2 
 Men's ordinary way of thinking, 
 
 ii. 269, s. 4* 
 An operation of the soul, i. 211, 
 
 s. 10 
 Without memory useless, 216, 
 s. 15 
 Thoughts concerning reading and 
 
 study, ii. 497 
 Time, what, i. 307, s. 17, 18 
 Not the measure of motion, 312, 
 
 s. 22 
 And place, distingrdshable por- 
 tions of infinite duration and 
 expansion, 320, s. 5, 6 
 Twofold, 320, s. 6, 7 
 Denominations from time are 
 relatives, 455, s. 3 
 Toleration, necessary in our state 
 
 of knowledge, ii. 273, s. 4 
 Ti-adition, the older the less cre- 
 dible, ii. 277, s. 10 
 Transmigration of souls, doctrine 
 
 of, L 180 
 Travellers, early, their accounts of 
 nations of atheists to be re- 
 ceived with doubt, i. 184 
 Trifling propositions, ii. 219 
 
 Discourses, ii. 225— 227, s. 9, 10, 
 11 
 Ti-ue and false ideas, i. 520 
 Truth, what, ii. 183, s. 2 ; 185, s. 6 
 Of thought, 183, 8. 3; 187, s. 9 
 Of words, 183, 8.3 
 Verbal and real, 186, s. 8, 9 
 Moral, 187, s. 11 
 Metaphysical, 521, s. 2 
 General, seldom apprehended, 
 
 but in words, ii. 188, s. 2 
 In what it consists, 190, s. 5 
 Love of it necessary, 311, 8. 1 
 How we may know we love it, 
 311, s. 1 
 
 Vacuum possible, i. 294, s. 22 
 Motion proves a vacuum, 295, 
 8. 23 
 
 Vacuum — 
 
 We have an idea of it, 230, s. 3 ; 
 232, 8. 5 
 Variety in men's pursuits, ac- 
 counted for, i. 240, 9. 10 
 Vegetables, identity of, L 461 
 Velleity, what, i. 353 
 Vice lies in wrong measnreff of 
 
 good, iL 334, s. 16 
 Virtue, what, hi reality, i. 172, s.18 
 What in its common application, 
 
 165, s. 10, 11 
 Is preferable, under a bare possi- 
 bility of a future state,406,s.70 
 How taken, 171, s. 17, 18 
 Volition, what, i. 363, s. 5 ; 369, 
 s, 15 ; 375, s. 28 
 Better known by reflection, than 
 words, 376, s. 30 
 Voluntary, what, i. 363, s. 5 ; 
 367, 8. 11 ; 375, s. 27 
 
 Understanding, what, i. 363, a. 5, 6 
 Like a dark room, 278, s. 17 
 When rightly used, 131, s. 5 
 Three sorts of perception in, 
 
 363, 8. 5 
 Wliolly passive in the reception 
 of simple ideas, 223, s. 25 
 Uneasiness alone determines the 
 will to a new action, i. 376, 
 s, 29, 31, 33, &c. 
 ^Vhy it determines the will, 379, 
 
 s. 36, 37 
 
 Causes of it, 397, s. 57, &c. 
 
 Unity, an idea, both of sensation 
 
 and reflection, i. 239, s. 7 
 
 ^ Suggested by eveiy thing, 325, s. 1 
 
 Universal consent, argmnent of, 
 
 examined, i. 135 
 Univei-sality, is only in signs, ii. 14 
 Universals, how made, i. 274, s. 9 
 
 Weeping. See Tears. 
 
 What is, is, is not universally ■as- 
 sented to, i. 136, s. 4 
 
 Where and when, i. 321, s. 8 
 
 Whole, bigger than its parts, rts 
 use, ii. 208, s. 11 
 And part not innate ideas, i. 182, 
 8. 6
 
 526 
 
 INDEX, 
 
 Will, what, i. 363, a. 5, 6 ; 369, 
 s, 16 ; 375, s. 28 
 
 \Vhat determines the will, 37, 
 s. 29 
 
 Often confounded with desire, 
 37, B. 30 
 
 Is conversant only about our 
 own actions, 37, s. 30 
 
 Terminates in them, 383, s. 40 
 
 Is determined by the greatest, 
 present, removable uneasi- 
 ness, 383, s. 40 
 Wit and judgment, wherein dif- 
 ferent, i. 270, s. 2 
 Wolfi his theory of innate ideas, 
 
 i. 140 
 Worcester, Locke's controversy 
 
 with the bishop of, iL 339 
 Words, an ill use of, one great 
 hinderance of knowledge, ii. 
 167, s. 30 
 
 Abuse of words, L 94, s. 1 
 
 Sects introduce words without 
 signification, 94, s. 2 
 
 The schools have coined multi- 
 tudes of insignificant words, 
 
 94, s. 2 
 
 And rendered others obscure, 
 
 97, s. 6 
 Often used without signification, 
 
 95, s. 3 
 
 And why, 96, s. 5 
 
 Inconstancy in their use, an 
 abuse of words, 96, e. 5 
 
 Obscurity, an abuse of words, 
 97, B. 6 
 
 Takmg them for things, an abuse 
 of words, 101, s. 14, 15 
 
 Who most liable to this abuse of 
 words, 101, s. 14, 15 
 
 This abuse of words is a cause 
 of obstinacy in error, 103, 
 s. 16 
 
 Making them stand for real es- 
 sences we know not, is an 
 abuse of words, 103, s. 17, 18 
 
 The supposition of their certain 
 evident signification, an abuse 
 of words, 107, s. 22 
 
 Use of words is, 1. To commu- 
 nicate ideas ; 2. With quick- 
 
 Words — 
 
 ness ; 3. To convey know- 
 ledge, 108, s. 23, 24 
 How they fad in all these, 109, 
 
 s. 26, etseq. 
 How in substances, 110, 111, s. 
 
 32 
 How in modes and relations, 110, 
 
 111, s. 33 
 Misuse of words, a great cause 
 
 of error, 114, s. 4 
 Of obstinacy, 115, s. 5 
 And of wrangling, 115, s. 6 
 Signify one thing in inqiuries, 
 
 and another in disputes, 1 1 6,s.7 
 The meaning of words is made 
 
 known, in simple ideas, by 
 
 showing, 120, s. 14 
 In uuxed modes, by defining, 
 
 120, s. 15 
 In substances, by showing and 
 
 definmg too, 123, s. 19; 124, 
 
 B. 21, 22, 
 The ill consequence of learning 
 
 words first, and their meaning 
 
 aftei-wards, 125, s. 24 
 No shame to ask men the mean- 
 ing of their words where they 
 
 are doubtful, 126, s. 25 
 Are to be used constantly in the 
 
 same sense, 128, s. 26 
 Or else to be explained, where 
 
 the context deteiiuinea it not, 
 
 128, s. 27 
 How made general, ii. 1, s. 8 
 Signifying insensible things, de- 
 rived fi'om names of sensible 
 
 ideas, 2, s. 5 
 Have no natural signification, 
 
 4, s. 1 
 But by imposition, 8, s. 8 
 Stand uumediately for the ideas J 
 
 of the speaker, 4, s. 1-3 
 Yet with a double leference :- 
 
 1. To the ideas in the hearer's| 
 mind, 6, s. 4 
 
 2. To the reahty of things, 7, s. Si 
 Apt, by custom, to excite ideas,! 
 
 7, s. 6 
 Often used without signification | 
 7, s. 7 ..
 
 INDEX. 
 
 527 
 
 Words- 
 Most general, 9, s. 1 
 Why some words of one language 
 cannot be translated into those 
 of another, 34, n. 8 
 Why T have been so large on 
 
 words, 39, a. 16 
 New words, or in new significa- 
 tions, are cautiously to be 
 used, 73, 8. 51 
 Civil use of words, 75, b. 3 
 Philosophical use of words,75,fi.3 
 These very different, 87, s. 15 
 Miss their end when they excite 
 not, in the hearer, the same 
 idea as in the mind of the 
 speaker, 80, s. 4 
 
 Words — 
 
 ^liat words most doubtful, and 
 
 why, 80, s. .') 
 What unintelligible, 80, s. 5 
 Fitted to the use of common life, 
 
 81, s. 7 
 Not translatable, 34, s. 8 
 Worship not an innate idea, i. 183, 
 
 8. 7 
 Wrangle, about words, ii. 227, 
 
 s. 13 
 Wiitings, ancient, why hardly to 
 be precisely understood, ii. 93, 
 
 Zahal), ii. 71 
 
 M. S. Rickcrby, Printer, 73, Cannon Street, City
 
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