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Social Science Time Line 1690
Mental Health Time Line 1690 |
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Extracts from Locke's "An Essay Concerning Human Understanding"
John Locke 1690which is divided into the following "books" and "chapters", where 3.4 indicates book 3, chapter 4. The chapters are divided into numbered and headed paragraphs. When a paragraph is included in the extracts it is listed under its chapter so that 1.1.4 indicates book 1, chapter 1, paragraph four.
Epistle to the Reader
Book 1 Of innate notions
1.1 Introduction
1.1.1
An Inquiry into the understanding, pleasant and useful.
1.1.2
Design.
1.1.3
Method.
1.1.4
Useful to know the extent of our comprehension.
1.1.5
Our capacity suited to our state and concerns.
1.1.6
Knowledge of our capacity a cure of scepticism and idleness.
1.1.7
Occasion of this essay.
1.1.8
What "Idea" stands for.
1.2 No innate principles in the mind
1.3 No innate practical principles
1.4 Other considerations concerning innate principles, both
speculative and practical
Book 2 Of ideas
2.1 Of ideas in general, and their original
2.1.1
Idea is the object of thinking
2.1.2
All ideas come from sensation or reflection
2.1.3
The objects of sensation one source of ideas
2.1.4
The operations of our minds, the other source of them.
2.1.5
All our ideas are of the one or the other of these
2.1.6
Observable in children
2.1.7
Men are differently furnished with these, according to the different
objects they converse with
2.1.8
Ideas of reflection later, because they need attention
2.2 Of simple ideas
2.3 Of simple ideas of sense
2.4 Idea of solidity
2.5 Of simple ideas of divers senses
2.6 Of simple ideas of reflection
2.7 Of simple ideas of both sensation and reflection
2.8 Some further considerations concerning our simple ideas of
sensation
2.9 Of perception
2.10 Of retention
2.11 Of discerning, and other operations of the mind
2.12 Of complex ideas
2.12.1
Made by the mind out of simple ones
2.13 Complex ideas of simple modes:- and first, of the simple
modes of the idea of space
2.14 Idea of duration and its simple modes
2.15 Ideas of duration and expansion, considered together
2.16 Idea of number
2.17 Of infinity
2.18 Other simple modes
2.19 Of the modes of thinking
2.20 Of modes of pleasure and pain
2.21 Of power
2.22 Of mixed modes
2.23 Of our complex ideas of substances
2.24 Of collective ideas of substances
2.25 Of relation
2.26 Of cause and effect, and other relations
2.27 Of identity and diversity
2.28 Of other relations
2.29 Of clear and obscure, distinct and confused ideas
2.30 Of real and fantastical ideas
2.31 Of adequate and
inadequate ideas
2.31.1 Adequate ideas are such as
perfectly
represent their archetypes.
2.31.2 Simple ideas all
adequate
2.32 Of true and false
ideas
2.32.1
Truth and falsehood properly belong to propositions, not to
ideas.
2.32.2 Ideas and words may be said
to be true, inasmuch as they really are ideas and words.
2.32.3
No idea, as an appearance in the mind, either true or false.
2.32.4
Ideas referred to anything extraneous to them may be true or false
2.32.5
Other men's ideas; real existence; and supposed real essences, are what
men usually refer their ideas to.
2.32.6
The cause of such reference
2.32.7
Names of things supposed to carry in them knowledge of their
essences
2.32.8
How men suppose that their ideas must correspond to things, and to the
customary meanings of names.
2.32.9
Simple ideas may be false, in reference to others of the same name, but
are least liable to be so.
2.32.10
Ideas of mixed modes most liable to be false in this sense.
2.32.11
Or at least to be thought false.
2.32.12
And why.
2.32.13
As referred to real existence, none of our ideas can be false but those
of substances.
2.32.14
Simple ideas in this sense not false, and why
2.32.15
Though one man's idea of blue should be different from another's
2.32.16
Simple ideas can none of them be false in respect of real existence.
2.32.17
Modes not false cannot be false in reference to essences of
things.
2.32.18
Ideas of substances may be false in reference to existing
things.
2.32.19
Truth or falsehood always supposes affirmation or negation.
2.32.20
Ideas in themselves neither true nor false.
2.32.21
But are false- when judged agreeable to another man's idea, without
being so.
2.32.22
When judged to agree to real existence, when they do not.
2.32.23
When judged adequate, without being so.
2.32.24
When judged to represent the real essence.
2.32.25
Ideas, when called false.
2.32.26
More properly to be called right or wrong.
2.33 Of the association of ideas
2.33.1
Something unreasonable in most men
2.33.2
Not wholly from self-love.
2.33.3
Not from education.
2.33.4
A degree of madness found in most men.
2.33.1
From a wrong connexion of ideas.
2.33.8
Influence of association to be watched educating young children.
2.33.9
Wrong connexion of ideas a great cause of errors.
2.33.10
An instance
2.33.11
Another instance
2.33.12
A third instance.
2.33.13
Why time cures some disorders in the mind, which reason cannot
cure.
2.33.14
Another instance of the effect of the association of ideas
2.33.15
More instances
Book 3 Of words
3.1 Of words or language in general
3.2 Of the signification of words
3.3 Of general terms
3.4 Of the names of simple ideas
3.5 Of the names of mixed modes and relations
3.6 Of the names of substances
3.7 Of particles
3.8 Of abstract and concrete terms
3.9 Of the imperfection of words
3.10 Of the abuse of words
3.11 Of the remedies of the foregoing imperfections and abuses
of words
Book 4 Of knowledge and probability
4.1 Of knowledge in general
4.2 Of the degrees of our knowledge
4.3 Of the extent of human knowledge
4.4 Of the reality of knowledge
Book One, Chapter One: Introduction
(¶ 1.1.1).
An Inquiry into the understanding, pleasant and useful.
Since it is the understanding that sets man above the rest of sensible
beings, and gives him all the advantage and dominion which he has over
them; it is certainly a subject, even for its nobleness, worth our labour
to inquire into. The understanding, like the eye, whilst it makes us see
and perceive all other things, takes no notice of itself; and it requires
art and pains to set it at a distance and make it its own object. But
whatever be the difficulties that lie in the way of this inquiry; whatever
it be that keeps us so much in the dark to ourselves; sure I am that all
the light we can let in upon our minds, all the acquaintance we can make
with our own understandings, will not only be very pleasant, but bring us
great advantage, in directing our thoughts in the search of other things.
(¶ 1.1.2).
Design.
This, therefore, being my purpose- to inquire into the
original, certainty, and extent of human knowledge, together with the
grounds and degrees of belief, opinion, and assent;- I shall not at present
meddle with the physical consideration of the mind; or trouble myself to
examine wherein its essence consists; or by what motions of our spirits or
alterations of our bodies we come to have any sensation by our organs, or
any ideas in our understandings; and whether those ideas do in their
formation, any or all of them, depend on matter or not. These are
speculations which, however curious and entertaining, I shall decline, as
lying out of my way in the design I am now upon. It shall suffice to my
present purpose, to consider the discerning faculties of a man, as they are
employed about the objects which they have to do with. And I shall imagine
I have not wholly misemployed myself in the thoughts I shall have on this
occasion, if, in this historical, plain method, I can give any account of
the ways whereby our understandings come to attain those notions of things
we have; and can set down any measures of the certainty of our knowledge;
or the grounds of those persuasions which are to be found amongst men, so
various, different, and wholly contradictory; and yet asserted somewhere or
other with such assurance and confidence, that he that shall take a view of
the opinions of mankind, observe their opposition, and at the same time
consider the fondness and devotion wherewith they are embraced, the
resolution and eagerness wherewith they are maintained, may perhaps have
reason to suspect, that either there is no such thing as truth at all, or
that mankind hath no sufficient means to attain a certain knowledge of it.
(¶ 1.1.3).
Method.
It is therefore worth while to search out the bounds between
opinion and knowledge; and examine by what measures, in things whereof we
have no certain knowledge, we ought to regulate our assent and moderate our
persuasion. In order whereunto I shall pursue this following method:-
(¶ 1.1.4).
Useful to know the extent of our comprehension.
If by this inquiry into the nature of the understanding, I can discover the
powers thereof; how far they reach; to what things they are in any degree
proportionate; and where they fail us, I suppose it may be of use to
prevail with the busy mind of man to be more cautious in meddling with
things exceeding its comprehension; to stop when it is at the utmost extent
of its tether; and to sit down in a quiet ignorance of those things which,
upon examination, are found to be beyond the reach of our capacities. We
should not then perhaps be so forward, out of an affectation of an
universal knowledge, to raise questions, and perplex ourselves and others
with disputes about things to which our understandings are not suited; and
of which we cannot frame in our minds any clear or distinct perceptions, or
whereof (as it has perhaps too often happened) we have not any notions at
all. If we can find out how far the understanding can extend its view; how
far it has faculties to attain certainty; and in what cases it can only
judge and guess, we may learn to content ourselves with what is attainable
by us in this state.
(¶ 1.1.5).
Our capacity suited to our state and concerns.
For though the comprehension of our understandings comes exceeding short of
the vast extent of things, yet we shall have cause enough to magnify the
bountiful Author of our being, for that proportion and degree of knowledge
he has bestowed on us, so far above all the rest of the inhabitants of this
our mansion. Men have reason to be well satisfied with what God hath
thought fit for them, since he hath given them (as St. Peter says) pana
pros zoen kaieusebeian, whatsoever is necessary for the conveniences of
life and information of virtue; and has put within the reach of their
discovery, the comfortable provision for this life, and the way that leads
to a better. How short soever their knowledge may come of an universal or
perfect comprehension of whatsoever is, it yet secures their great
concernments, that they have light enough to lead them to the knowledge of
their Maker, and the sight of their own duties. Men may find matter
sufficient to busy their heads, and employ their hands with variety,
delight, and satisfaction, if they will not boldly quarrel with their own
constitution, and throw away the blessings their hands are filled with,
because they are not big enough to grasp everything. We shall not have much
reason to complain of the narrowness of our minds, if we will but employ
them about what may be of use to us; for of that they are very capable. And
it will be an unpardonable, as well as childish peevishness, if we
undervalue the advantages of our knowledge, and neglect to improve it to
the ends for which it was given us, because there are some things that are
set out of the reach of it. It will be no excuse to an idle and untoward
servant, who would not attend his business by candle light, to plead that
he had not broad sunshine. The Candle that is set up in us shines bright
enough for all our purposes. The discoveries we can make with this ought to
satisfy us; and we shall then use our understandings right, when we
entertain all objects in that way and proportion that they are suited to
our faculties, and upon those grounds they are capable of being proposed to
us; and not peremptorily or intemperately require demonstration, and demand
certainty, where probability only is to be had, and which is sufficient to
govern all our concernments. If we will disbelieve everything, because we
cannot certainly know all things, we shall do muchwhat as wisely as he who
would not use his legs, but sit still and perish, because he had no wings
to fly.
(¶ 1.1.6).
Knowledge of our capacity a cure of scepticism and idleness.
When we know our own strength, we shall the better know what to undertake
with hopes of success; and when we have well surveyed the powers of our own
minds, and made some estimate what we may expect from them, we shall not be
inclined either to sit still, and not set our thoughts on work at all, in
despair of knowing anything; nor on the other side, question everything,
and disclaim all knowledge, because some things are not to be understood.
It is of great use to the sailor to know the length of his line, though he
cannot with it fathom all the depths of the ocean. It is well he knows that
it is long enough to reach the bottom, at such places as are necessary to
direct his voyage, and caution him against running upon shoals that may
ruin him. Our business here is not to know all things, but those which
concern our conduct. If we can find out those measures, whereby a rational
creature, put in that state in which man is in this world, may and ought to
govern his opinions, and actions depending thereon, we need not to be
troubled that some other things escape our knowledge.
(¶ 1.1.7).
Occasion of this essay.
This was that which gave the first rise to
this Essay concerning the understanding. For I thought that the first step
towards satisfying several inquiries the mind of man was very apt to run
into, was, to take a survey of our own understandings, examine our own
powers, and see to what things they were adapted. Till that was done I
suspected we began at the wrong end, and in vain sought for satisfaction in
a quiet and sure possession of truths that most concerned us, whilst we let
loose our thoughts into the vast ocean of Being; as if all that boundless
extent were the natural and undoubted possession of our understandings,
wherein there was nothing exempt from its decisions, or that escaped its
comprehension. Thus men, extending their inquiries beyond their capacities,
and letting their thoughts wander into those depths where they can find no
sure footing, it is no wonder that they raise questions and multiply
disputes, which, never coming to any clear resolution, are proper only to
continue and increase their doubts, and to confirm them at last in perfect
scepticism. Whereas, were the capacities of our understandings well
considered, the extent of our knowledge once discovered, and the horizon
found which sets the bounds between the enlightened and dark parts of
things; between what is and what is not comprehensible by us, men would
perhaps with less scruple acquiesce in the avowed ignorance of the one, and
employ their thoughts and discourse with more advantage and satisfaction in
the other.
(¶ 1.1.8).
What "Idea" stands for.
Thus much I thought necessary to say
concerning the occasion of this Inquiry into human Understanding. But,
before I proceed on to what I have thought on this subject, I must
here in the entrance beg pardon of my reader for the frequent use of
the word idea, which he will find in the following treatise. It
being that term which, I think, serves best to stand for whatsoever is
the object of the understanding when a man thinks, I have used it to
express whatever is meant by phantasm, notion, species, or whatever it
is which the mind can be employed about in thinking; and I could not
avoid frequently using it.
I presume it will be easily granted me, that there are such ideas in
men's minds: every one is conscious of them in himself; and men's
words and actions will satisfy him that they are in others.
Our first inquiry then shall be,- how they come into the mind.
Of ideas
Book Two, Chapter One: Of ideas in general, and their original
(¶ 2.1.1).
Idea is the object of thinking. Every man being conscious to himself
that he thinks; and that which his mind is applied about whilst thinking
being the ideas that are there, it is past doubt that men have in their
minds several ideas,- such as are those expressed by the words whiteness,
hardness, sweetness, thinking, motion, man, elephant, army, drunkenness,
and others: it is in the first place then to be inquired, How he comes by
them?
I know it is a received doctrine, that men have native ideas, and original
characters, stamped upon their minds in their very first being. This
opinion I have at large examined already; and, I suppose what I have said
in the foregoing Book will be much more easily admitted, when I have shown
whence the understanding may get all the ideas it has; and by what ways and
degrees they may come into the mind;- for which I shall appeal to every
one's own observation and experience.
(¶ 2.1.2).
All ideas come from sensation or reflection. Let us then suppose the
mind to be, as we say, white paper, void of all characters, without any
ideas:- How comes it to be furnished? Whence comes it by that vast store
which the busy and boundless fancy of man has painted on it with an almost
endless variety? Whence has it all the materials of reason and knowledge?
To this I answer, in one word, from EXPERIENCE. In that all our knowledge
is founded; and from that it ultimately derives itself. Our observation
employed either, about external sensible objects, or about the internal
operations of our minds perceived and reflected on by ourselves, is that
which supplies our understandings with all the materials of thinking. These
two are the fountains of knowledge, from whence all the ideas we have, or
can naturally have, do spring.
(¶ 2.1.3). The objects of sensation one source of ideas. First,
our Senses, conversant about particular sensible objects, do convey into
the mind several distinct perceptions of things, according to those various
ways wherein those objects do affect them. And thus we come by those ideas
we have of yellow, white, heat, cold, soft, hard, bitter, sweet, and all
those which we call sensible qualities; which when I say the senses convey
into the mind, I mean, they from external objects convey into the mind what
produces there those perceptions. This great source of most of the ideas we
have, depending wholly upon our senses, and derived by them to the
understanding, I call SENSATION.
(¶ 2.1.4).
The operations of our minds, the other source of them. Secondly, the
other fountain from which experience furnisheth the understanding with
ideas is,- the perception of the operations of our own mind within us, as
it is employed about the ideas it has got;- which operations, when the soul
comes to reflect on and consider, do furnish the understanding with another
set of ideas, which could not be had from things without. And such are
perception, thinking, doubting, believing, reasoning, knowing, willing, and
all the different actings of our own minds;- which we being conscious of,
and observing in ourselves, do from these receive into our understandings
as distinct ideas as we do from bodies affecting our senses. This source of
ideas every man has wholly in himself; and though it be not sense, as
having nothing to do with external objects, yet it is very like it, and
might properly enough be called internal sense. But as I call the other
SENSATION, so I call this
REFLECTION, the ideas it affords being such only
as the mind gets by reflecting on its own operations within itself. By
reflection then, in the following part of this discourse, I would be
understood to mean, that notice which the mind takes of its own operations,
and the manner of them, by reason whereof there come to be ideas of these
operations in the understanding. These two, I say, viz. external material
things, as the objects of SENSATION, and the operations of our own minds
within, as the objects of REFLECTION, are to me the only originals from
whence all our ideas take their beginnings. The term operations here I use
in a large sense, as comprehending not barely the actions of the mind about
its ideas, but some sort of passions arising sometimes from them, such as
is the satisfaction or uneasiness arising from any thought.
(¶ 2.1.5).
All our ideas are of the one or the other of these. The
understanding seems to me not to have the least glimmering of any ideas
which it doth not receive from one of these two. External objects furnish
the mind with the ideas of sensible qualities, which are all those
different perceptions they produce in us; and the mind furnishes the
understanding with ideas of its own operations.
These, when we have taken a full survey of them, and their several modes,
combinations, and relations, we shall find to contain all our whole stock
of ideas; and that we have nothing in our minds which did not come in one
of these two ways. Let any one examine his own thoughts, and thoroughly
search into his understanding; and then let him tell me, whether all the
original ideas he has there, are any other than of the objects of his
senses, or of the operations of his mind, considered as objects of his
reflection. And how great a mass of knowledge soever he imagines to be
lodged there, he will, upon taking a strict view, see that he has not any
idea in his mind but what one of these two have imprinted;- though perhaps,
with infinite variety compounded and enlarged by the understanding, as we
shall see hereafter.
(¶ 2.1.6).
Observable in children. He that attentively considers the state of a
child, at his first coming into the world, will have little reason to think
him stored with plenty of ideas, that are to be the matter of his future
knowledge. It is by degrees he comes to be furnished with them. And though
the ideas of obvious and familiar qualities imprint themselves before the
memory begins to keep a register of time or order, yet it is often so late
before some unusual qualities come in the way, that there are few men that
cannot recollect the beginning of their acquaintance with them. And if it
were worth while, no doubt a child might be so ordered as to have but a
very few, even of the ordinary ideas, till he were grown up to a man. But
all that are born into the world, being surrounded with bodies that
perpetually and diversely affect them, variety of ideas, whether care be
taken of it or not, are imprinted on the minds of children. Light and
colours are busy at hand everywhere, when the eye is but open; sounds and
some tangible qualities fail not to solicit their proper senses, and force
an entrance to the mind;- but yet, I think, it will be granted easily, that
if a child were kept in a place where he never saw any other but black and
white till he were a man, he would have no more ideas of scarlet or green,
than he that from his childhood never tasted an oyster, or a pine-apple,
has of those particular relishes.
(¶ 2.1.7).
Men are differently furnished with these, according to the different
objects they converse with. Men then come to be furnished with fewer or
more simple ideas from without, according as the objects they converse with
afford greater or less variety; and from the operations of their minds
within, according as they more or less reflect on them. For, though he that
contemplates the operations of his mind, cannot but have plain and clear
ideas of them; yet, unless he turn his thoughts that way, and considers
them attentively, he will no more have clear and distinct ideas of all the
operations of his mind, and all that may be observed therein, than he will
have all the particular ideas of any landscape, or of the parts and motions
of a clock, who will not turn his eyes to it, and with attention heed all
the parts of it. The picture, or clock may be so placed, that they may come
in his way every day; but yet he will have but a confused idea of all the
parts they are made up of, till he applies himself with attention, to
consider them each in particular.
(¶ 2.1.8).
Ideas of reflection later, because they need attention. And hence we
see the reason why it is pretty late before most children get ideas of the
operations of their own minds; and some have not any very clear or perfect
ideas of the greatest part of them all their lives. Because, though they
pass there continually, yet, like floating visions, they make not deep
impressions enough to leave in their mind clear, distinct, lasting ideas,
till the understanding turns inward upon itself, reflects on its own
operations, and makes them the objects of its own contemplation. Children
when they come first into it, are surrounded with a world of new things,
which, by a constant solicitation of their senses, draw the mind constantly
to them; forward to take notice of new, and apt to be delighted with the
variety of changing objects. Thus the first years are usually employed and
diverted in looking abroad. Men's business in them is to acquaint
themselves with what is to be found without; and so growing up in a
constant attention to outward sensations, seldom make any considerable
reflection on what passes within them, till they come to be of riper years;
and some scarce ever at all.
Book Two, Chapter Twelve: Of complex ideas
(¶ 2.12.1).
Made by the mind out of simple ones. We have hitherto considered
those ideas, in the reception whereof the mind is only passive, which are
those simple ones received from sensation and reflection before mentioned,
whereof the mind cannot make one to itself, nor have any idea which does
not wholly consist of them. But as the mind is wholly passive in the
reception of all its simple ideas, so it exerts several acts of its own,
whereby out of its simple ideas, as the materials and foundations of the
rest, the others are framed.
The acts of the mind, wherein it exerts its power over its simple ideas,
are chiefly these three:
This shows man's power, and its ways of operation, to be much the same in
the material and intellectual world. For the materials in both being such
as he has no power over, either to make or destroy, all that man can do is
either to unite them together, or to set them by one another, or wholly
separate them. I shall here begin with the first of these in the
consideration of complex ideas, and come to the other two in their due
places. As simple ideas are observed to exist in several combinations
united together, so the mind has a power to consider several of them united
together as one idea; and that not only as they are united in external
objects, but as itself has joined them together. Ideas thus made up of
several simple ones put together, I call complex;- such as are beauty,
gratitude, a man, an army, the universe; which, though complicated of
various simple ideas, or complex ideas made up of simple ones, yet are,
when the mind pleases, considered each by itself, as one entire thing, and
signified by one name.
Book Two, Chapter Thirty One: Of adequate and inadequate ideas
(¶ 2.31.1).
Adequate ideas are such as perfectly represent their
archetypes. Of our real ideas, some are adequate, and some are
inadequate. Those I call adequate, which perfectly represent those
archetypes which the mind supposes them taken from: which it intends
them to stand for, and to which it refers them. Inadequate ideas are
such, which are but a partial or incomplete representation of those
archetypes to which they are referred. Upon which account it is plain,
(¶ 2.31.2).
Simple ideas all adequate. First, that all our simple ideas are
adequate. Because, being nothing but the effects of certain powers
in things, fitted and ordained by God to produce such sensations in
us, they cannot but be correspondent and adequate to those powers: and
we are sure they agree to the reality of things. For, if sugar produce
in us the ideas which we call whiteness and sweetness, we are sure
there is a power in sugar to produce those ideas in our minds, or else
they could not have been produced by it. And so each sensation
answering the power that operates on any of our senses, the idea so
produced is a real idea, (and not a fiction of the mind, which has
no power to produce any simple idea); and cannot but be adequate,
since it ought only to answer that power: and so all simple ideas
are adequate. It is true, the things producing in us these simple
ideas are but few of them denominated by us, as if they were only
the causes of them; but as if those ideas were real beings in them.
For, though fire be called painful to the touch, whereby is
signified the power of producing in us the idea of pain, yet it is
denominated also light and hot; as if light and heat were really
something in the fire, more than a power to excite these ideas in
us; and therefore are called qualities in or of the fire. But these
being nothing, in truth, but powers to excite such ideas in us, I must
in that sense be understood, when I speak of secondary qualities as
being in things; or of their ideas as being the objects that excite
them in us. Such ways of speaking, though accommodated to the vulgar
notions, without which one cannot be well understood, yet truly
signify nothing but those powers which are in things to excite certain
sensations or ideas in us. Since were there no fit organs to receive
the impressions fire makes on the sight and touch, nor a mind joined
to those organs to receive the ideas of light and heat by those
impressions from the fire or sun, there would yet be no more light
or heat in the world than there would be pain if there were no
sensible creature to feel it, though the sun should continue just as
it is now, and Mount Etna flame higher than ever it did. Solidity and
extension, and the termination of it, figure, with motion and rest,
whereof we have the ideas, would be really in the world as they are,
whether there were any sensible being to perceive them or no: and
therefore we have reason to look on those as the real modifications of
matter, and such as are the exciting causes of all our various
sensations from bodies. But this being an inquiry not belonging to
this place, I shall enter no further into it, but proceed to show what
complex ideas are adequate, and what not.
Book Two, Chapter Thirty Two: Of true and false ideas
(¶ 2.32.1).
Truth and falsehood properly belong to propositions, not to ideas.
Though truth and falsehood belong, in propriety of speech, only to
propositions: yet ideas are oftentimes termed true or false (as what words
are there that are not used with great latitude, and with some deviation
from their strict and proper significations?) Though I think that when
ideas themselves are termed true or false, there is still some secret or
tacit proposition, which is the foundation of that denomination: as we
shall see, if we examine the particular occasions wherein they come to be
called true or false. In all which we shall find some kind of affirmation
or negation, which is the reason of that denomination. For our ideas, being
nothing but bare appearances, or perceptions in our minds, cannot properly
and simply in themselves be said to be true or false, no more than a single
name of anything can be said to be true or false.
(¶ 2.32.2).
Ideas and words may be said to be true, inasmuch as they really are
ideas and words. Indeed both ideas and words may be said to be true, in
a metaphysical sense of the word truth; as all other things that any way
exist are said to be true, i.e. really to be such as they exist. Though in
things called true, even in that sense, there is perhaps a secret reference
to our ideas, looked upon as the standards of that truth; which amounts to
a mental proposition, though it be usually not taken notice of.
(¶ 2.32.3).
No idea, as an appearance in the mind, either true or false. But it
is not in that metaphysical sense of truth which we inquire here, when we
examine, whether our ideas are capable of being true or false, but in the
more ordinary acceptation of those words: and so I say that the ideas in
our minds, being only so many perceptions or appearances there, none of
them are false; the idea of a centaur having no more falsehood in it when
it appears in our minds, than the name centaur has falsehood in it, when it
is pronounced by our mouths, or written on paper. For truth or falsehood
lying always in some affirmation or negation, mental or verbal, our ideas
are not capable, any of them, of being false, till the mind passes some
judgment on them; that is, affirms or denies something of them.
(¶ 2.32.4).
Ideas referred to anything extraneous to them may be true or false.
Whenever the mind refers any of its ideas to anything extraneous to them,
they are then capable to be called true or false. Because the mind, in such
a reference, makes a tacit supposition of their conformity to that thing;
which supposition, as it happens to be true or false, so the ideas
themselves come to be denominated. The most usual cases wherein this
happens, are these following:
(¶ 2.32.5).
Other men's ideas; real existence; and supposed real essences, are what
men usually refer their ideas to. First, when the mind supposes any
idea it has conformable to that in other men's minds, called by the same
common name; v.g. when the mind intends or judges its ideas of justice,
temperance, religion, to be the same with what other men give those names
to. Secondly, when the mind supposes any idea it has in itself to be
conformable to some real existence. Thus the two ideas of a man and a
centaur, supposed to be the ideas of real substances, are the one true and
the other false; the one having a conformity to what has really existed,
the other not. Thirdly, when the mind refers any of its ideas to that
real constitution and essence of anything, whereon all its properties
depend: and thus the greatest part, if not all our ideas of substances, are
false.
(¶ 2.32.6).
The cause of such reference. These suppositions the mind is very
apt tacitly to make concerning its own ideas. But yet, if we will examine
it, we shall find it is chiefly, if not only, concerning its abstract
complex ideas. For the natural tendency of the mind being towards
knowledge; and finding that, if it should proceed by and dwell upon only
particular things, its progress would be very slow, and its work endless;
therefore, to shorten its way to knowledge, and make each perception more
comprehensive, the first thing it does, as the foundation of the easier
enlarging its knowledge, either by contemplation of the things themselves
that it would know, or conference with others about them, is to bind them
into bundles, and rank them so into sorts, that what knowledge it gets of
any of them it may thereby with assurance extend to all of that sort; and
so advance by larger steps in that which is its great business, knowledge.
This, as I have elsewhere shown, is the reason why we collect things under
comprehensive ideas, with names annexed to them, into genera and species;
i.e. into kinds and sorts.
(¶ 2.32.7).
Names of things supposed to carry in them knowledge of their
essences. If therefore we will warily attend to the motions of the
mind, and observe what course it usually takes in its way to knowledge, we
shall I think find, that the mind having got an idea which it thinks it may
have use of either in contemplation or discourse, the first thing it does
is to abstract it, and then get a name to it; and so lay it up in its
storehouse, the memory, as containing the essence of a sort of things, of
which that name is always to be the mark. Hence it is, that we may often
observe that, when any one sees a new thing of a kind that he knows not, he
presently asks, what it is; meaning by that inquiry nothing but the name.
As if the name carried with it the knowledge of the species, or the essence
of it; whereof it is indeed used as the mark, and is generally supposed
annexed to it.
(¶ 2.32.8).
How men suppose that their ideas must correspond to things, and to the
customary meanings of names. But this abstract idea, being something in
the mind, between the thing that exists, and the name that is given to it;
it is in our ideas that both the rightness of our knowledge, and the
propriety and intelligibleness of our speaking, consists. And hence it is
that men are so forward to suppose, that the abstract ideas they have in
their minds are such as agree to the things existing without them, to which
they are referred; and are the same also to which the names they give them
do by the use and propriety of that language belong. For without this
double conformity of their ideas, they find they should both think amiss of
things in themselves, and talk of them unintelligibly to others.
(¶ 2.32.9).
Simple ideas may be false, in reference to others of the same name, but
are least liable to be so. First, then, I say, that when the truth of
our ideas is judged of by the conformity they have to the ideas which other
men have, and commonly signify by the same name, they may be any of them
false. But yet simple ideas are least of all liable to be so mistaken.
Because a man, by his senses and every day's observation, may easily
satisfy himself what the simple ideas are which their several names that
are in common use stand for; they being but few in number, and such as, if
he doubts or mistakes in, he may easily rectify by the objects they are to
be found in. Therefore it is seldom that any one mistakes in his names of
simple ideas, or applies the name red to the idea green, or the name sweet
to the idea bitter: mush less are men apt to confound the names of ideas
belonging to different senses, and call a colour by the name of a taste,
&c. Whereby it is evident that the simple ideas they call by any name are
commonly the same that others have and mean when they use the same names.
(¶ 2.32.10).
Ideas of mixed modes most liable to be false in this sense. Complex
ideas are much more liable to be false in this respect; and the complex
ideas of mixed modes, much more than those of substances; because in
substances (especially those which the common and unborrowed names of any
language are applied to) some remarkable sensible qualities, serving
ordinarily to distinguish one sort from another, easily preserve those who
take any care in the use of their words, from applying them to sorts of
substances to which they do not at all belong. But in mixed modes we are
much more uncertain; it being not so easy to determine of several actions,
whether they are to be called justice or cruelly, liberality or
prodigality. And so in referring our ideas to those of other men, called by
the same names, ours may be false; and the idea in our minds, which we
express by the word justice, may perhaps be that which ought to have
another name.
(¶ 2.32.11).
Or at least to be thought false. But whether or no our ideas of
mixed modes are more liable than any sort to be different from those of
other men, which are marked by the same names, this at least is certain,
That this sort of falsehood is much more familiarly attributed to our ideas
of mixed modes than to any other. When a man is thought to have a false
idea of justice, or gratitude, or glory, it is for no other reason, but
that his agrees not with the ideas which each of those names are the signs
of in other men.
(¶ 2.32.12).
And why. The reason whereof seems to me to be this: That the
abstract ideas of mixed modes, being men's voluntary combinations of such a
precise collection of simple ideas, and so the essence of each species
being made by men alone, whereof we have no other sensible standard
existing anywhere but the name itself, or the definition of that name; we
having nothing else to refer these our ideas of mixed modes to, as a
standard to which we would conform them, but the ideas of those who are
thought to use those names in their most proper significations; and, so as
our ideas conform or differ from them, they pass for true or false. And
thus much concerning the truth and falsehood of our ideas, in reference to
their names.
(¶ 2.32.13).
As referred to real existence, none of our ideas can be false but those
of substances. Secondly, as to the truth and falsehood of our ideas, in
reference to the real existence of things. When that is made the standard
of their truth, none of them can be termed false but only our complex ideas
of substances.
(¶ 2.32.14).
Simple ideas in this sense not false, and why. First, our simple
ideas, being barely such perceptions as God has fitted us to receive, and
given power to external objects to produce in us by established laws and
ways, suitable to his wisdom and goodness, though incomprehensible to us,
their truth consists in nothing else but in such appearances as are
produced in us, and must be suitable to those powers he has placed in
external objects or else they could not be produced in us: and thus
answering those powers, they are what they should be, true ideas. Nor do
they become liable to any imputation of falsehood, if the mind (as in most
men I believe it does) judges these ideas to be in the things themselves.
For God in his wisdom having set them as marks of distinction in things,
whereby we may be able to discern one thing from another, and so choose any
of them for our uses as we have occasion; it alters not the nature of our
simple idea, whether we think that the idea of blue be in the violet
itself, or in our mind only; and only the power of producing it by the
texture of its parts, reflecting the particles of light after a certain
manner, to be in the violet itself. For that texture in the object, by a
regular and constant operation producing the same idea of blue in us, it
serves us to distinguish, by our eyes, that from any other thing; whether
that distinguishing mark, as it is really in the violet, be only a peculiar
texture of parts, or else that very colour, the idea whereof (which is in
us) is the exact resemblance. And it is equally from that appearance to be
denominated blue, whether it be that real colour, or only a peculiar
texture in it, that causes in us that idea: since the name, blue, notes
properly nothing but that mark of distinction that is in a violet,
discernible only by our eyes, whatever it consists in; that being beyond
our capacities distinctly to know, and perhaps would be of less use to us,
if we had faculties to discern.
(¶ 2.32.15).
Though one man's idea of blue should be different from another's.
Neither would it carry any imputation of falsehood to our simple ideas, if
by the different structure of our organs it were so ordered, that the same
object should produce in several men's minds different ideas at the same
time; v.g. if the idea that a violet produced in one man's mind by his eyes
were the same that a marigold produced in another man's, and vice versa.
For, since this could never be known, because one man's mind could not pass
into another man's body, to perceive what appearances were produced by
those organs; neither the ideas hereby, nor the names, would be at all
confounded, or any falsehood be in either. For all things that had the
texture of a violet, producing constantly the idea that he called blue, and
those which had the texture of a marigold, producing constantly the idea
which he as constantly called yellow, whatever those appearances were in
his mind; he would be able as regularly to distinguish things for his use
by those appearances, and understand and signify those distinctions marked
by the name blue and yellow, as if the appearances or ideas in his mind
received from those two flowers were exactly the same with the ideas in
other men's minds. I am nevertheless very apt to think that the sensible
ideas produced by any object in different men's minds, are most commonly
very near and undiscernibly alike. For which opinion, I think, there might
be many reasons offered: but that being besides my present business, I
shall not trouble my reader with them; but only mind him, that the contrary
supposition, if it could be proved, is of little use, either for the
improvement of our knowledge, or conveniency of life, and so we need not
trouble ourselves to examine it.
(¶ 2.32.16).
Simple ideas can none of them be false in respect of real existence.
From what has been said concerning our simple ideas, I think it evident
that our simple ideas can none of them be false in respect of things
existing without us. For the truth of these appearances or perceptions in
our minds consisting, as has been said, only in their being answerable to
the powers in external objects to produce by our senses such appearances in
us, and each of them being in the mind such as it is, suitable to the power
that produced it, and which alone it represents, it cannot upon that
account, or as referred to such a pattern, be false. Blue and yellow,
bitter or sweet, can never be false ideas: these perceptions in the mind
are just such as they are there, answering the powers appointed by God to
produce them; and so are truly what they are, and are intended to be.
Indeed the names may be misapplied, but that in this respect makes no
falsehood in the ideas; as if a man ignorant in the English tongue should
call purple scarlet.
(¶ 2.32.17).
Modes not false cannot be false in reference to essences of things.
Secondly, neither can our complex ideas of modes, in reference to the
essence of anything really existing, be false; because whatever complex
ideas I have of any mode, it hath no reference to any pattern existing, and
made by nature; it is not supposed to contain in it any other ideas than
what it hath; nor to represent anything but such a complication of ideas as
it does. Thus, when I have the idea of such an action of a man who forbears
to afford himself such meat, drink, and clothing, and other conveniences of
life, as his riches and estate will be sufficient to supply and his station
requires, I have no false idea; but such an one as represents an action,
either as I find or imagine it, and so is capable of neither truth nor
falsehood. But when I give the name frugality or virtue to this action,
then it may be called a false idea, if thereby it be supposed to agree with
that idea to which, in propriety of speech, the name of frugality doth
belong, or to be conformable to that law which is the standard of virtue
and vice.
(¶ 2.32.18).
Ideas of substances may be false in reference to existing things.
Thirdly, our complex ideas of substances, being all referred to patterns in
things themselves, may be false. That they are all false, when looked upon
as the representations of the unknown essences of things, is so evident
that there needs nothing to be said of it. I shall therefore pass over that
chimerical supposition, and consider them as collections of simple ideas in
the mind, taken from combinations of simple ideas existing together
constantly in things, of which patterns they are the supposed copies; and
in this reference of them to the existence of things, they are false
ideas:- (1) When they put together simple ideas, which in the real
existence of things have no union; as when to the shape and size that exist
together in a horse, is joined in the same complex idea the power of
barking like a dog: which three ideas, however put together into one in the
mind, were never united in nature; and this, therefore, may be called a
false idea of a horse. (2) Ideas of substances are, in this respect, also
false, when, from any collection of simple ideas that do always exist
together, there is separated, by a direct negation, any other simple idea
which is constantly joined with them. Thus, if to extension, solidity,
fusibility, the peculiar weightiness, and yellow colour of gold, any one
join in his thoughts the negation of a greater degree of fixedness than is
in lead or copper, he may be said to have a false complex idea, as well as
when he joins to those other simple ones the idea of perfect absolute
fixedness. For either way, the complex idea of gold being made up of such
simple ones as have no union in nature, may be termed false. But, if he
leave out of this his complex idea that of fixedness quite, without either
actually joining to or separating it from the rest in his mind, it is, I
think, to be looked on as an inadequate and imperfect idea, rather than a
false one; since, though it contains not all the simple ideas that are
united in nature, yet it puts none together but what do really exist
together.
(¶ 2.32.19).
Truth or falsehood always supposes affirmation or negation. Though,
in compliance with the ordinary way of speaking, I have shown in what sense
and upon what ground our ideas may be sometimes called true or false; yet
if we will look a little nearer into the matter, in all cases where any
idea is called true or false, it is from some judgment that the mind makes,
or is supposed to make, that is true or false. For truth or falsehood,
being never without some affirmation or negation, express or tacit, it is
not to be found but where signs are joined or separated, according to the
agreement or disagreement of the things they stand for. The signs we
chiefly use are either ideas or words; wherewith we make either mental or
verbal propositions. Truth lies in so joining or separating these
representatives, as the things they stand for do in themselves agree or
disagree; and falsehood in the contrary, as shall be more fully shown
hereafter.
(¶ 2.32.20).
Ideas in themselves neither true nor false. Any idea, then, which
we have in our minds, whether conformable or not to the existence of
things, or to any idea in the minds of other men, cannot properly for this
alone be called false. For these representations, if they have nothing in
them but what is really existing in things without, cannot be thought
false, being exact representations of something: nor yet if they have
anything in them differing from the reality of things, can they properly be
said to be false representations, or ideas of things they do not represent.
But the mistake and falsehood is:
(¶ 2.32.21).
But are false- when judged agreeable to another man's idea, without
being so. First, when the mind having any idea, it judges and
concludes it the same that is in other men's minds, signified by the same
name; or that it is conformable to the ordinary received signification or
definition of that word, when indeed it is not: which is the most usual
mistake in mixed modes, though other ideas also are liable to it.
(¶ 2.32.22).
When judged to agree to real existence, when they do not.
(2) When it having a complex idea made up of such a collection of
simple ones as nature never puts together, it judges it to agree to a
species of creatures really existing; as when it joins the weight of tin to
the colour, fusibility, and fixedness of gold.
(¶ 2.32.23).
When judged adequate, without being so. (3) When in its
complex idea it has united a certain number of simple ideas that do really
exist together in some sort of creatures, but has also left out others as
much inseparable, it judges this to be a perfect complete idea of a sort of
things which really it is not; v.g. having joined the ideas of substance,
yellow, malleable, most heavy, and fusible, it takes that complex idea to
be the complete idea of gold, when yet its peculiar fixedness, and
solubility in aqua regia, are as inseparable from those other ideas, or
qualities, of that body as they are one from another.
(¶ 2.32.24).
When judged to represent the real essence. (4) The mistake is
yet greater, when I judge that this complex idea contains in it the real
essence of any body existing; when at least it contains but some few of
those properties which flow from its real essence and constitution. I say
only some few of those properties; for those properties consisting mostly
in the active and passive powers it has in reference to other things, all
that are vulgarly known of any one body, of which the complex idea of that
kind of things is usually made, are but a very few, in comparison of what a
man that has several ways tried and examined it knows of that one sort of
things; and all that the most expert man knows are but a few, in comparison
of what are really in that body, and depend on its internal or essential
constitution. The essence of a triangle lies in a very little compass,
consists in a very few ideas: three lines including a space make up that
essence: but the properties that flow from this essence are more than can
be easily known or enumerated. So I imagine it is in substances; their real
essences lie in a little compass, though the properties flowing from that
internal constitution are endless.
(¶ 2.32.25).
Ideas, when called false. To conclude, a man having no notion of
anything without him, but by the idea he has of it in his mind, (which idea
he has a power to call by what name he pleases), he may indeed make an idea
neither answering the reason of things, nor agreeing to the idea commonly
signified by other people's words; but cannot make a wrong or false idea of
a thing which is no otherwise known to him but by the idea he has of it:
v.g. when I frame an idea of the legs, arms, and body of a man, and join to
this a horse's head and neck, I do not make a false idea of anything;
because it represents nothing without me. But when I call it a man or
Tartar, and imagine it to represent some real being without me, or to be
the same idea that others call by the same name; in either of these cases I
may err. And upon this account it is that it comes to be termed a false
idea; though indeed the falsehood lies not in the idea, but in that tacit
mental proposition, wherein a conformity and resemblance is attributed to
it which it has not. But yet, if, having framed such an idea in my mind
without thinking either that existence, or the name man or Tartar, belongs
to it, I will call it man or Tartar, I may be justly thought fantastical in
the naming; but not erroneous in my judgment; nor the idea any way false.
(¶ 2.32.26).
More properly to be called right or wrong. Upon the whole, matter,
I think that our ideas, as they are considered by the mind,- either in
reference to the proper signification of their names; or in reference to
the reality of things,- may very fitly be called right or wrong ideas,
according as they agree or disagree to those patterns to which they are
referred. But if any one had rather call them true or false, it is fit he
use a liberty, which every one has, to call things by those names he thinks
best; though, in propriety of speech, truth or falsehood will, I think,
scarce agree to them, but as they, some way or other, virtually contain in
them some mental proposition. The ideas that are in a man's mind, simply
considered, cannot be wrong; unless complex ones, wherein inconsistent
parts are jumbled together. All other ideas are in themselves right, and
the knowledge about them right and true knowledge; but when we come to
refer them to anything, as to their patterns and archetypes, then they are
capable of being wrong, as far as they disagree with such archetypes.
Book Two, Chapter Thirty Three: Of the association of ideas
(¶ 2.33.1).
Something unreasonable in most men. There is scarce any one that
does not observe something that seems odd to him, and is in itself really
extravagant, in the opinions, reasonings, and actions of other men. The
least flaw of this kind, if at all different from his own, every one is
quick-sighted enough to espy in another, and will by the authority of
reason forwardly condemn; though he be guilty of much greater
unreasonableness in his own tenets and conduct, which he never perceives,
and will very hardly, if at all, be convinced of.
(¶ 2.33.2).
Not wholly from self-love. This proceeds not wholly from
self-love, though that has often a great hand in it. Men of fair minds, and
not given up to the overweening of self-flattery, are frequently guilty of
it; and in many cases one with amazement hears the arguings, and is
astonished at the obstinacy of a worthy man, who yields not to the evidence
of reason, though laid before him as clear as daylight.
(¶ 2.33.3).
Not from education. This sort of unreasonableness is usually
imputed to education and prejudice, and for the most part truly enough,
though that reaches not the bottom of the disease, nor shows distinctly
enough whence it rises, or wherein it lies. Education is often rightly
assigned for the cause, and prejudice is a good general name for the thing
itself: but yet, I think, he ought to look a little further, who would
trace this sort of madness to the root it springs from, and so explain it,
as to show whence this flaw has its original in very sober and rational
minds, and wherein it consists.
(¶ 2.33.4).
A degree of madness found in most men. I shall be pardoned for
calling it by so harsh a name as madness, when it is considered that
opposition to reason deserves that name, and is really madness; and there
is scarce a man so free from it, but that if he should always, on all
occasions, argue or do as in some cases he constantly does, would not be
thought fitter for Bedlam than civil conversation. I do not here mean when
he is under the power of an unruly passion, but in the steady calm course
of his life. That which will yet more apologize for this harsh name, and
ungrateful imputation on the greatest part of mankind, is, that, inquiring
a little by the bye into the nature of madness (Bk. ii. ch. xi. SS 13), I
found it to spring from the very same root, and to depend on the very same
cause we are here speaking of. This consideration of the thing itself, at a
time when I thought not the least on the subject which I am now treating
of, suggested it to me. And if this be a weakness to which all men are so
liable, if this be a taint which so universally infects mankind, the
greater care should be taken to lay it open under its due name, thereby to
excite the greater care in its prevention and cure.
(¶ 2.33.5).
From a wrong connexion of ideas. Some of our ideas have a natural
correspondence and connexion one with another: it is the office and
excellency of our reason to trace these, and hold them together in that
union and correspondence which is founded in their peculiar beings. Besides
this, there is another connexion of ideas wholly owing to chance or custom.
Ideas that in themselves are not all of kin, come to be so united in some
men's minds, that it is very hard to separate them; they always keep in
company, and the one no sooner at any time comes into the understanding,
but its associate appears with it; and if they are more than two which are
thus united, the whole gang, always inseparable, show themselves together.
(¶ 2.33.8).
Influence of association to be watched educating young children.
I mention this, not out of any great necessity there is in this present
argument to distinguish nicely between natural and acquired antipathies;
but I take notice of it for another purpose, viz. that those who have
children, or the charge of their education, would think it worth their
while diligently to watch, and carefully to prevent the undue connexion of
ideas in the minds of young people. This is the time most susceptible of
lasting impressions; and though those relating to the health of the body
are by discreet people minded and fenced against, yet I am apt to doubt,
that those which relate more peculiarly to the mind, and terminate in the
understanding or passions, have been much less heeded than the thing
deserves: nay, those relating purely to the understanding, have, as I
suspect, been by most men wholly overlooked.
(¶ 2.33.9).
Wrong connexion of ideas a great cause of errors. This wrong
connexion in our minds of ideas in themselves loose and independent of one
another, has such an influence, and is of so great force to set us awry in
our actions, as well moral as natural, passions, reasonings, and notions
themselves, that perhaps there is not any one thing that deserves more to
be looked after.
(¶ 2.33.10).
An instance. The ideas of goblins and sprites have really no
more to do with darkness than light: yet let but a foolish maid inculcate
these often on the mind of a child, and raise them there together, possibly
he shall never be able to separate them again so long as he lives, but
darkness shall ever afterwards bring with it those frightful ideas, and
they shall be so joined, that he can no more bear the one than the other.
(¶ 2.33.11).
Another instance. A man receives a sensible injury from another,
thinks on the man and that action over and over, and by ruminating on them
strongly, or much, in his mind, so cements those two ideas together, that
he makes them almost one; never thinks on the man, but the pain and
displeasure he suffered comes into his mind with it, so that he scarce
distinguishes them, but has as much an aversion for the one as the other.
Thus hatreds are often begotten from slight and innocent occasions, and
quarrels propagated and continued in the world.
(¶ 2.33.12).
A third instance. A man has suffered pain or sickness in any
place; he saw his friend die in such a room: though these have in
nature nothing to do one with another, yet when the idea of the
place occurs to his mind, it brings (the impression being once made)
that of the pain and displeasure with it: he confounds them in his
mind, and can as little bear the one as the other.
(¶ 2.33.13).
Why time cures some disorders in the mind, which reason cannot
cure. When this combination is settled, and while it lasts, it is
not in the power of reason to help us, and relieve us from the effects
of it. Ideas in our minds, when they are there, will operate according
to their natures and circumstances. And here we see the cause why time
cures certain affections, which reason, though in the right, and
allowed to be so, has not power over, nor is able against them to
prevail with those who are apt to hearken to it in other cases. The
death of a child that was the daily delight of its mother's eyes,
and joy of her soul, rends from her heart the whole comfort of her
life, and gives her all the torment imaginable: use the consolations
of reason in this case, and you were as good preach ease to one on the
rack, and hope to allay, by rational discourses, the pain of his
joints tearing asunder. Till time has by disuse separated the sense of
that enjoyment and its loss, from the idea of the child returning to
her memory, all representations, though ever so reasonable, are in
vain; and therefore some in whom the union between these ideas is
never dissolved, spend their lives in mourning, and carry an incurable
sorrow to their graves.
(¶ 2.33.14).
Another instance of the effect of the association of ideas. A
friend of mine knew one perfectly cured of madness by a very harsh and
offensive operation. The gentleman who was thus recovered, with great sense
of gratitude and acknowledgment owned the cure all his life after, as the
greatest obligation he could have received; but, whatever gratitude and
reason suggested to him, he could never bear the sight of the operator:
that image brought back with it the idea of that agony which he suffered
from his hands, which was too mighty and intolerable for him to endure.
(¶ 2.33.15).
More instances. Many children, imputing the pain they endured at
school to their books they were corrected for, so join those ideas
together, that a book becomes their aversion, and they are never reconciled
to the study and use of them all their lives after; and thus reading
becomes a torment to them, which otherwise possibly they might have made
the great pleasure of their lives. There are rooms convenient enough, that
some men cannot study in, and fashions of vessels, which, though ever so
clean and commodious, they cannot drink out of, and that by reason of some
accidental ideas which are annexed to them, and make them offensive; and
who is there that hath not observed some man to flag at the appearance, or
in the company of some certain person not otherwise superior to him, but
because, having once on some occasion got the ascendant, the idea of
authority and distance goes along with that of the person, and he that has
been thus subjected, is not able to separate them.
Book Three, Chapter Three: Of general terms
(¶3.3.20).
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 themselves to consider things, and discourse of them,
as it were in bundles, for the easier and readier improvement and
communication of their knowledge, which would advance but slowly
were their words and thoughts confined only to particulars.
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Locke, J. 1690 - An Essay Concerning Human Understanding.
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