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Nor ought we to think, that this latter improvement in the science of |
man will do less honour to our native country than the former in natural |
philosophy, but ought rather to esteem it a greater glory, upon account |
of the greater importance of that science, as well as the necessity it |
lay under of such a reformation. For to me it seems evident, that the |
essence of the mind being equally unknown to us with that of external |
bodies, it must be equally impossible to form any notion of its powers |
and qualities otherwise than from careful and exact experiments, and the |
observation of those particular effects, which result from its different |
circumstances and situations. And though we must endeavour to render all |
our principles as universal as possible, by tracing up our experiments |
to the utmost, and explaining all effects from the simplest and fewest |
causes, it is still certain we cannot go beyond experience; and any |
hypothesis, that pretends to discover the ultimate original qualities |
of human nature, ought at first to be rejected as presumptuous and |
chimerical. |
I do not think a philosopher, who would apply himself so earnestly to |
the explaining the ultimate principles of the soul, would show himself a |
great master in that very science of human nature, which he pretends to |
explain, or very knowing in what is naturally satisfactory to the mind |
of man. For nothing is more certain, than that despair has almost the |
same effect upon us with enjoyment, and that we are no sooner acquainted |
with the impossibility of satisfying any desire, than the desire itself |
vanishes. When we see, that we have arrived at the utmost extent of |
human reason, we sit down contented, though we be perfectly satisfied in |
the main of our ignorance, and perceive that we can give no reason for |
our most general and most refined principles, beside our experience |
of their reality; which is the reason of the mere vulgar, and what it |
required no study at first to have discovered for the most particular |
and most extraordinary ph忙nomenon. And as this impossibility of making |
any farther progress is enough to satisfy the reader, so the writer |
may derive a more delicate satisfaction from the free confession of his |
ignorance, and from his prudence in avoiding that error, into which so |
many have fallen, of imposing their conjectures and hypotheses on the |
world for the most certain principles. When this mutual contentment and |
satisfaction can be obtained betwixt the master and scholar, I know not |
what more we can require of our philosophy. |
But if this impossibility of explaining ultimate principles should be |
esteemed a defect in the science of man, I will venture to affirm, that |
it is a defect common to it with all the sciences, and all the arts, in |
which we can employ ourselves, whether they be such as are cultivated |
in the schools of the philosophers, or practised in the shops of the |
meanest artizans. None of them can go beyond experience, or establish |
any principles which are not founded on that authority. Moral philosophy |
has, indeed, this peculiar disadvantage, which is not found in natural, |
that in collecting its experiments, it cannot make them purposely, with |
premeditation, and after such a manner as to satisfy itself concerning |
every particular difficulty which may be. When I am at a loss to know |
the effects of one body upon another in any situation, I need only put |
them in that situation, and observe what results from it. But should |
I endeavour to clear up after the same manner any doubt in moral |
philosophy, by placing myself in the same case with that which I |
consider, it is evident this reflection and premeditation would so |
disturb the operation of my natural principles, as must render it |
impossible to form any just conclusion from the phenomenon. We must |
therefore glean up our experiments in this science from a cautious |
observation of human life, and take them as they appear in the common |
course of the world, by men's behaviour in company, in affairs, and |
in their pleasures. Where experiments of this kind are judiciously |
collected and compared, we may hope to establish on them a science which |
will not be inferior in certainty, and will be much superior in utility |
to any other of human comprehension. |
BOOK I. OF THE UNDERSTANDING |
PART I. OF IDEAS, THEIR ORIGIN, COMPOSITION, CONNEXION, ABSTRACTION, |
ETC. |
SECT. I. OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR IDEAS. |
All the perceptions of the human mind resolve themselves into two |
distinct kinds, which I shall call IMPRESSIONS and IDEAS. The difference |
betwixt these consists in the degrees of force and liveliness, with |
which they strike upon the mind, and make their way into our thought |
or consciousness. Those perceptions, which enter with most force and |
violence, we may name impressions: and under this name I comprehend |
all our sensations, passions and emotions, as they make their first |
appearance in the soul. By ideas I mean the faint images of these in |
thinking and reasoning; such as, for instance, are all the perceptions |
excited by the present discourse, excepting only those which arise from |
the sight and touch, and excepting the immediate pleasure or uneasiness |
it may occasion. I believe it will not be very necessary to employ many |
words in explaining this distinction. Every one of himself will readily |
perceive the difference betwixt feeling and thinking. The common degrees |
of these are easily distinguished; though it is not impossible but in |
particular instances they may very nearly approach to each other. Thus |