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

to discover any

connecting proposition or intermediate step, which supports the

understanding in this conclusion. But as the question is yet new, every

reader may not trust so far to his own penetration, as to conclude,

because an argument escapes his enquiry, that therefore it does not

really exist. For this reason it may be requisite to venture upon a more

difficult task; and enumerating all the branches of human knowledge,

endeavour to show that none of them can afford such an argument.

 

All reasonings may be divided into two kinds, namely, demonstrative

reasoning, or that concerning relations of ideas, and moral reasoning,

or that concerning matter of tact and existence. That there are no

demonstrative arguments in the case seems evident; since it implies no

contradiction that the course of nature may change, and that an object,

seemingly like those which we have experienced, may be attended with

different or contrary effects. May I not clearly and distinctly conceive

that a body, falling from the clouds, and which, in all other respects,

resembles snow, has yet the taste of salt or feeling of fire? Is there

any more intelligible proposition than to affirm, that all the trees

will flourish in December and January, and decay in May and June? Now

whatever is intelligible, and can be distinctly conceived, implies no

contradiction, and can never be proved false by any demonstrative

argument or abstract reasoning � priori.

 

If we be, therefore, engaged by arguments to put trust in past

experience, and make it the standard of our future judgement, these

arguments must be probable only, or such as regard matter of fact and

real existence, according to the division above mentioned. But that

there is no argument of this kind, must appear, if our explication of

that species of reasoning be admitted as solid and satisfactory. We have

said that all arguments concerning existence are founded on the relation

of cause and effect; that our knowledge of that relation is derived

entirely from experience; and that all our experimental conclusions

proceed upon the supposition that the future will be conformable to the

past. To endeavour, therefore, the proof of this last supposition by

probable arguments, or arguments regarding existence, must be evidently

going in a circle, and taking that for granted, which is the very point

in question.

 

31. In reality, all arguments from experience are founded on the

similarity which we discover among natural objects, and by which we are

induced to expect effects similar to those which we have found to follow

from such objects. And though none but a fool or madman will ever

pretend to dispute the authority of experience, or to reject that great

guide of human life, it may surely be allowed a philosopher to have so

much curiosity at least as to examine the principle of human nature,

which gives this mighty authority to experience, and makes us draw

advantage from that similarity which nature has placed among different

objects. From causes which appear similar we expect similar effects.

This is the sum of all our experimental conclusions. Now it seems

evident that, if this conclusion were formed by reason, it would be as

perfect at first, and upon one instance, as after ever so long a course

of experience. But the case is far otherwise. Nothing so like as eggs;

yet no one, on account of this appearing similarity, expects the same

taste and relish in all of them. It is only after a long course of

uniform experiments in any kind, that we attain a firm reliance and

security with regard to a particular event. Now where is that process of

reasoning which, from one instance, draws a conclusion, so different

from that which it infers from a hundred instances that are nowise

different from that single one? This question I propose as much for the

sake of information, as with an intention of raising difficulties. I

cannot find, I cannot imagine any such reasoning. But I keep my mind

still open to instruction, if any one will vouchsafe to bestow it on me.

 

32. Should it be said that, from a number of uniform experiments, we

infer a connexion between the sensible qualities and the secret

powers; this, I must confess, seems the same difficulty, couched in

different terms. The question still recurs, on what process of argument

this inference is founded? Where is the medium, the interposing ideas,

which join propositions so very wide of each other? It is confessed that

the colour, consistence, and other sensible qualities of bread appear

not, of themselves, to have any connexion with the secret powers of

nourishment and support. For otherwise we could infer these secret

powers from the first appearance of these sensible qualities, without

the aid of experience; contrary to the sentiment of all philosophers,

and contrary to plain matter of fact. Here, then, is our natural state

of ignorance with regard to the powers and influence of all objects. How

is this remedied by experience? It only shows us a number of uniform

effects, resulting from certain objects, and teaches us that those

particular objects, at that particular time, were endowed with such

powers and forces. When a new object, endowed with similar sensible

qualities, is produced, we expect similar powers and forces, and look

for a like effect. From a body of like colour and consistence with bread

we expect like nourishment and support. But this surely is a step or

progress of the mind, which wants to be explained. When a man says, _I

have found, in all past instances, such sensible qualities conjoined

with such secret powers_. And when he says, _Similar sensible qualities

will always be conjoined with similar secret powers_, he is not guilty

of a tautology, nor are these propositions in any respect the same. You

say that the one proposition is an inference from the other. But you

must confess that the inference is not intuitive; neither is it

demonstrative: Of what nature is it, then? To say it is experimental, is

begging the question. For all inferences from experience suppose, as

their foundation, that the future will resemble the past, and that

similar powers will be conjoined with similar sensible qualities. If

there be any suspicion that the course of nature may change, and that

the past may be no rule for the future, all experience becomes useless,

and can give rise to no inference or conclusion. It is impossible,

therefore, that any arguments from experience can prove this resemblance

of the past to the future; since all these arguments are founded on the

supposition of that resemblance. Let the course of things be allowed

hitherto ever so regular; that alone, without some new argument or

inference, proves not that, for the future, it will continue so. In vain

do you pretend to have learned the nature of bodies from your past

experience. Their secret nature, and consequently all their effects and

influence, may change, without any change in their sensible qualities.

This happens sometimes, and with regard to some objects: Why may it not

happen always, and with regard to all objects? What logic, what process

of argument secures you against this supposition? My practice, you say,

refutes my doubts. But you mistake the purport of my question. As an

agent, I am quite satisfied in the point; but as a philosopher, who has

some share of curiosity, I will not say scepticism, I want to learn the

foundation of this inference. No reading, no enquiry has yet been able

to remove my difficulty, or give me satisfaction in a matter of such

importance. Can I do better than propose the difficulty to the public,

even though, perhaps, I have small hopes of obtaining a solution? We

shall at least, by this means, be sensible of our ignorance, if we do

not augment our knowledge.

 

33. I must confess that a man is guilty of unpardonable arrogance who

concludes, because an argument has escaped his own investigation, that

therefore it does not really exist. I must also confess that, though all

the learned, for several ages, should have employed themselves in

fruitless search upon any subject, it may still, perhaps, be rash to

conclude positively that the subject must, therefore, pass all human

comprehension. Even though we examine all the sources of our knowledge,

and conclude them unfit for such a subject, there may still remain a

suspicion, that the enumeration is not complete, or the examination not

accurate. But with regard to the present subject, there are some

considerations which seem to remove all this accusation of arrogance or

suspicion of mistake.

 

It is certain that the most ignorant and stupid peasants—nay infants,

nay even brute beasts—improve by experience, and learn the qualities of

natural objects, by observing the effects which result from them. When a

child has felt the sensation of pain from touching the flame of a

candle, he will be careful not to put his hand near any candle; but will

expect a similar effect from a cause which is similar in its sensible

qualities and appearance. If you assert, therefore, that the

understanding of the child is led into this conclusion by any process of

argument or ratiocination, I may justly require you to produce that

argument; nor have you any pretence to refuse so equitable a demand. You

cannot say that the argument is abstruse, and may possibly escape your

enquiry; since you confess that it is obvious to the capacity of a mere

infant. If you hesitate, therefore, a moment, or if, after reflection,

you produce any intricate or profound argument, you, in a manner, give

up the question, and confess that it is not reasoning which engages us

to suppose the past resembling the future, and to expect similar effects

from causes which are, to appearance, similar. This is the proposition

which I intended to enforce in the present section. If I be right, I

pretend not to have made any mighty discovery. And if I be wrong, I must

acknowledge myself to be indeed a very backward scholar; since I cannot

now discover an argument which, it seems, was perfectly familiar to me

long before I was out of my cradle.

 

SECTION V.

 

SCEPTICAL SOLUTION OF THESE DOUBTS.

 

PART I.

 

34. The passion for philosophy, like that for religion, seems liable to

this inconvenience, that, though it aims at the correction of our

manners, and extirpation of our vices, it may only serve, by imprudent

management, to foster a predominant inclination, and push the mind, with

more determined resolution, towards that side which already draws too

much, by the bias and propensity of the natural temper. It is certain

that, while we aspire to the magnanimous firmness of the philosophic

sage, and endeavour to confine our pleasures altogether within our own

minds, we may, at last, render our philosophy like that of Epictetus,

and other Stoics, only a more refined system of selfishness, and

reason ourselves out of all virtue as well as social enjoyment. While we

study with attention the vanity of human life, and turn all our thoughts

towards the empty and transitory nature of riches and honours, we are,

perhaps, all the while flattering our natural indolence, which, hating

the bustle of the world, and drudgery of business, seeks a pretence of

reason to give itself a full and uncontrolled indulgence. There is,

however, one species of philosophy which seems little liable to this

inconvenience, and that because it strikes in with no disorderly passion

of the human mind, nor can mingle itself with any natural affection or

propensity; and that is the Academic or Sceptical philosophy. The

academics always talk of doubt and suspense of judgement, of danger in

hasty determinations, of confining to very narrow bounds the enquiries

of the understanding, and of renouncing all speculations which lie not

within