An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, David Hume [online e book reader TXT] 📗

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the boundaries of the different species of philosophy, by reconciling

profound enquiry with clearness, and truth with novelty! And still more

happy, if, reasoning in this easy manner, we can undermine the

foundations of an abstruse philosophy, which seems to have hitherto

served only as a shelter to superstition, and a cover to absurdity

and error!

 

SECTION II.

 

OF THE ORIGIN OF IDEAS.

 

11. Every one will readily allow, that there is a considerable

difference between the perceptions of the mind, when a man feels the

pain of excessive heat, or the pleasure of moderate warmth, and when he

afterwards recalls to his memory this sensation, or anticipates it by

his imagination. These faculties may mimic or copy the perceptions of

the senses; but they never can entirely reach the force and vivacity of

the original sentiment. The utmost we say of them, even when they

operate with greatest vigour, is, that they represent their object in so

lively a manner, that we could almost say we feel or see it: But,

except the mind be disordered by disease or madness, they never can

arrive at such a pitch of vivacity, as to render these perceptions

altogether undistinguishable. All the colours of poetry, however

splendid, can never paint natural objects in such a manner as to make

the description be taken for a real landskip. The most lively thought is

still inferior to the dullest sensation.

 

We may observe a like distinction to run through all the other

perceptions of the mind. A man in a fit of anger, is actuated in a very

different manner from one who only thinks of that emotion. If you tell

me, that any person is in love, I easily understand your meaning, and

form a just conception of his situation; but never can mistake that

conception for the real disorders and agitations of the passion. When we

reflect on our past sentiments and affections, our thought is a faithful

mirror, and copies its objects truly; but the colours which it employs

are faint and dull, in comparison of those in which our original

perceptions were clothed. It requires no nice discernment or

metaphysical head to mark the distinction between them.

 

12. Here therefore we may divide all the perceptions of the mind into

two classes or species, which are distinguished by their different

degrees of force and vivacity. The less forcible and lively are commonly

denominated Thoughts or Ideas. The other species want a name in our

language, and in most others; I suppose, because it was not requisite

for any, but philosophical purposes, to rank them under a general term

or appellation. Let us, therefore, use a little freedom, and call them

Impressions; employing that word in a sense somewhat different from

the usual. By the term impression, then, I mean all our more lively

perceptions, when we hear, or see, or feel, or love, or hate, or desire,

or will. And impressions are distinguished from ideas, which are the

less lively perceptions, of which we are conscious, when we reflect on

any of those sensations or movements above mentioned.

 

13. Nothing, at first view, may seem more unbounded than the thought of

man, which not only escapes all human power and authority, but is not

even restrained within the limits of nature and reality. To form

monsters, and join incongruous shapes and appearances, costs the

imagination no more trouble than to conceive the most natural and

familiar objects. And while the body is confined to one planet, along

which it creeps with pain and difficulty; the thought can in an instant

transport us into the most distant regions of the universe; or even

beyond the universe, into the unbounded chaos, where nature is supposed

to lie in total confusion. What never was seen, or heard of, may yet be

conceived; nor is any thing beyond the power of thought, except what

implies an absolute contradiction.

 

But though our thought seems to possess this unbounded liberty, we shall

find, upon a nearer examination, that it is really confined within very

narrow limits, and that all this creative power of the mind amounts to

no more than the faculty of compounding, transposing, augmenting, or

diminishing the materials afforded us by the senses and experience. When

we think of a golden mountain, we only join two consistent ideas,

gold, and mountain, with which we were formerly acquainted. A

virtuous horse we can conceive; because, from our own feeling, we can

conceive virtue; and this we may unite to the figure and shape of a

horse, which is an animal familiar to us. In short, all the materials of

thinking are derived either from our outward or inward sentiment: the

mixture and composition of these belongs alone to the mind and will. Or,

to express myself in philosophical language, all our ideas or more

feeble perceptions are copies of our impressions or more lively ones.

 

14. To prove this, the two following arguments will, I hope, be

sufficient. First, when we analyze our thoughts or ideas however

compounded or sublime, we always find that they resolve themselves into

such simple ideas as were copied from a precedent feeling or sentiment.

Even those ideas, which, at first view, seem the most wide of this

origin, are found, upon a nearer scrutiny, to be derived from it. The

idea of God, as meaning an infinitely intelligent, wise, and good Being,

arises from reflecting on the operations of our own mind, and

augmenting, without limit, those qualities of goodness and wisdom. We

may prosecute this enquiry to what length we please; where we shall

always find, that every idea which we examine is copied from a similar

impression. Those who would assert that this position is not universally

true nor without exception, have only one, and that an easy method of

refuting it; by producing that idea, which, in their opinion, is not

derived from this source. It will then be incumbent on us, if we would

maintain our doctrine, to produce the impression, or lively perception,

which corresponds to it.

 

15. Secondly. If it happen, from a defect of the organ, that a man is

not susceptible of any species of sensation, we always find that he is

as little susceptible of the correspondent ideas. A blind man can form

no notion of colours; a deaf man of sounds. Restore either of them that

sense in which he is deficient; by opening this new inlet for his

sensations, you also open an inlet for the ideas; and he finds no

difficulty in conceiving these objects. The case is the same, if the

object, proper for exciting any sensation, has never been applied to the

organ. A Laplander or Negro has no notion of the relish of wine. And

though there are few or no instances of a like deficiency in the mind,

where a person has never felt or is wholly incapable of a sentiment or

passion that belongs to his species; yet we find the same observation to

take place in a less degree. A man of mild manners can form no idea of

inveterate revenge or cruelty; nor can a selfish heart easily conceive

the heights of friendship and generosity. It is readily allowed, that

other beings may possess many senses of which we can have no conception;

because the ideas of them have never been introduced to us in the only

manner by which an idea can have access to the mind, to wit, by the

actual feeling and sensation.

 

16. There is, however, one contradictory phenomenon, which may prove

that it is not absolutely impossible for ideas to arise, independent of

their correspondent impressions. I believe it will readily be allowed,

that the several distinct ideas of colour, which enter by the eye, or

those of sound, which are conveyed by the ear, are really different from

each other; though, at the same time, resembling. Now if this be true of

different colours, it must be no less so of the different shades of the

same colour; and each shade produces a distinct idea, independent of the

rest. For if this should be denied, it is possible, by the continual

gradation of shades, to run a colour insensibly into what is most remote

from it; and if you will not allow any of the means to be different, you

cannot, without absurdity, deny the extremes to be the same. Suppose,

therefore, a person to have enjoyed his sight for thirty years, and to

have become perfectly acquainted with colours of all kinds except one

particular shade of blue, for instance, which it never has been his

fortune to meet with. Let all the different shades of that colour,

except that single one, be placed before him, descending gradually from

the deepest to the lightest; it is plain that he will perceive a blank,

where that shade is wanting, and will be sensible that there is a

greater distance in that place between the contiguous colours than in

any other. Now I ask, whether it be possible for him, from his own

imagination, to supply this deficiency, and raise up to himself the idea

of that particular shade, though it had never been conveyed to him by

his senses? I believe there are few but will be of opinion that he can:

and this may serve as a proof that the simple ideas are not always, in

every instance, derived from the correspondent impressions; though this

instance is so singular, that it is scarcely worth our observing, and

does not merit that for it alone we should alter our general maxim.

 

17. Here, therefore, is a proposition, which not only seems, in itself,

simple and intelligible; but, if a proper use were made of it, might

render every dispute equally intelligible, and banish all that jargon,

which has so long taken possession of metaphysical reasonings, and drawn

disgrace upon them. All ideas, especially abstract ones, are, naturally

faint and obscure: the mind has but a slender hold of them: they are apt

to be confounded with other resembling ideas; and when we have often

employed any term, though without a distinct meaning, we are apt to

imagine it has a determinate idea annexed to it. On the contrary, all

impressions, that is, all sensations, either outward or inward, are

strong and vivid: the limits between them are more exactly determined:

nor is it easy to fall into any error or mistake with regard to them.

When we entertain, therefore, any suspicion that a philosophical term is

employed without any meaning or idea (as is but too frequent), we need

but enquire, from what impression is that supposed idea derived? And

if it be impossible to assign any, this will serve to confirm our

suspicion. By bringing ideas into so clear a light we may reasonably

hope to remove all dispute, which may arise, concerning their nature and

reality.[1]

 

[1] It is probable that no more was meant by those, who denied

innate ideas, than that all ideas were copies of our

impressions; though it must be confessed, that the terms, which

they employed, were not chosen with such caution, nor so

exactly defined, as to prevent all mistakes about their

doctrine. For what is meant by innate? If innate be

equivalent to natural, then all the perceptions and ideas of

the mind must be allowed to be innate or natural, in whatever

sense we take the latter word, whether in opposition to what is

uncommon, artificial, or miraculous. If by innate be meant,

contemporary to our birth, the dispute seems to be frivolous;

nor is it worth while to enquire at what time thinking begins,

whether before, at, or after our birth. Again, the word idea,

seems to be commonly taken in a very loose sense, by LOCKE and

others; as