Sect. VII. Of
the Idea of necessary Connexion
PART I.
48 THE great advantage of
the mathematical sciences above the
moral consists in this, that the
ideas of the former, being
sensible, are always clear and determinate,
the smallest distinction
between them is immediately perceptible,
and the same terms are
still expressive of the same ideas,
without ambiguity or variation. An
oval is never mistaken for a circle,
nor an hyperbola for an ellipsis.
The isosceles and scalenum are distinguished
by boundaries more
exact than vice and virtue, right
and wrong. If any term be defined in
geometry, the mind readily, of itself,
substitutes, on all
occasions, the definition for the
term defined: Or even when no
definition is employed, the object
itself may be presented to the
senses, and by that means be steadily
and clearly apprehended. But the
finer sentiments of the mind, the
operations of the understanding, the
various agitations of the passions,
though really in themselves
distinct, easily escape us, when
surveyed by reflection; nor is it
in our power to recal the original
object, as often as we have
occasion to contemplate it. Ambiguity,
by this means, is gradually
introduced into our reasonings:
Similar objects are readily taken to
be the same: And the conclusion
becomes at last very wide of the
premises.
One may safely, however, affirm,
that, if we consider these sciences
in a proper light, their advantages
and disadvantages nearly
compensate each other, and reduce
both of them to a state of equality.
If the mind, with greater facility,
retains the ideas of geometry
clear and determinate, it must carry
on a much longer and more
intricate chain of reasoning, and
compare ideas much wider of each
other, in order to reach the abstruser
truths of that science. And
if moral ideas are apt, without
extreme care, to fall into obscurity
and confusion, the inferences are
always much shorter in these
disquisitions, and the intermediate
steps, which lead to the
conclusion, much fewer than in the
sciences which treat of quantity
and number. In reality, there is
scarcely a proposition in Euclid so
simple, as not to consist of more
parts, than are to be found in any
moral reasoning which runs not into
chimera and conceit. Where we
trace the principles of the human
mind through a few steps, we may
be very well satisfied with our
progress; considering how soon
nature throws a bar to all our enquiries
concerning causes, and
reduces us to an acknowledgment
of our ignorance. The chief
obstacle, therefore, to our improvement
in the moral or metaphysical
sciences is the obscurity of the
ideas, and ambiguity of the terms.
The principal difficulty in the
mathematics is the length of
inferences and compass of thought,
requisite to the forming of any
conclusion. And, perhaps, our progress
in natural philosophy is
chiefly retarded by the want of
proper experiments and phaenomena,
which are often discovered by chance,
and cannot always be found, when
requisite, even by the most diligent
and prudent enquiry. As moral
philosophy seems hitherto to have
received less improvement than
either geometry or physics, we may
conclude, that, if there be any
difference in this respect among
these sciences, the difficulties,
which obstruct the progress of the
former, require superior care and
capacity to be surmounted.
49. There are no ideas, which
occur in metaphysics, more obscure and
uncertain, than those of power,
force, energy or necessary
connexion, of which it is every
moment necessary for us to treat in
all our disquisitions. We shall,
therefore, endeavour, in this
section, to fix, if possible, the
precise meaning of these terms,
and thereby remove some part of
that obscurity, which is so much
complained of in this species of
philosophy.
It seems a proposition, which
will not admit of much dispute, that
all our ideas are nothing but copies
of our impressions, or, in
other words, that it is impossible
for us to think of anything,
which we have not antecedently felt,
either by our external or
internal senses. I have endeavoured*
to explain and prove this
proposition, and have expressed
my hopes, that, by a proper
application of it, men may reach
a greater clearness and precision
in philosophical reasonings, than
what they have hitherto been able to
attain. Complex ideas may, perhaps,
be well known by definition, which
is nothing but an enumeration of
those parts or simple ideas, that
compose them. But when we have pushed
up definitions to the most
simple ideas, and find still some
ambiguity and obscurity; what
resource are we then possessed of?
By what invention can we throw
light upon these ideas, and render
them altogether precise and
determinate to our intellectual
view? Produce the impressions or
original sentiments, from which
the ideas are copied. These
impressions are all strong and sensible.
They admit not of
ambiguity. They are not only placed
in a full light themselves, but
may throw light on their correspondent
ideas, which lie in
obscurity. And by this means, we
may, perhaps, attain a new microscope
or species of optics, by which,
in the moral sciences, the most
minute, and most simple ideas may
be so enlarged as to fall readily
under our apprehension, and be equally
known with the grossest and
most sensible ideas, that can be
the object of our enquiry.
* Section II.
50. To be fully acquainted,
therefore, with the idea of power or
necessary connexion, let us examine
its impression; and in order to
find the impression with greater
certainty, let us search for it in
all the sources, from which it may
possibly be derived.
When we look about us towards
external objects, and consider the
operation of causes, we are never
able, in a single instance, to
discover any power or necessary
connexion; any quality, which binds
the effect to the cause, and renders
the one an infallible consequence
of the other. We only find, that
the one does actually, in fact,
follow the other. The impulse of
one billiard-ball is attended with
motion in the second. This is the
whole that appears to the outward
senses. The mind feels no sentiment
or inward impression from this
succession of objects: Consequently,
there is not, in any single,
particular instance of cause and
effect, anything which can suggest
the idea of power or necessary connexion.
From the first appearance
of an object, we never can conjecture what
effect will result from it. But
were the power or energy of any
cause discoverable by the mind,
we could foresee the effect, even
without experience; and might, at
first, pronounce with certainty
concerning it, by mere dint of thought
and reasoning.
In reality, there is no part
of matter, that does ever, by its
sensible qualities, discover any
power or energy, or give us ground to
imagine, that it could produce any
thing, or be followed by any
other object, which we could denominate
its effect. Solidity,
extension, motion; these qualities
are all complete in themselves, and
never point out any other event
which may result from them. The scenes
of the universe are continually
shifting, and one object follows
another in an uninterrupted succession;
but the power of force,
which actuates the whole machine,
is entirely concealed from us, and
never discovers itself in any of
the sensible qualities of body. We
know, that, in fact, heat is a constant
attendant of flame; but what
is the connexion between them, we
have no room so much as to
conjecture or imagine. It is impossible,
therefore, that the idea of
power can be derived from the contemplation
of bodies, in single
instances of their operation; because
no bodies ever discover any
power, which can be the original
of this idea.*
* Mr. Locke, in his chapter
of power, says that, finding from
experience, that there are several
new productions in matter, and
concluding that there must somewhere
be a power capable of producing
them, we arrive at last by this
reasoning at the idea of power. But no
reasoning can ever give us a new,
original, simple idea; as this
philosopher himself confesses. This,
therefore, can never be the
origin of that idea.
51. Since, therefore, external
objects as they appear to the senses,
give us no idea of power or necessary
connexion, by their operation in
particular instances, let us see,
whether this idea be derived from
reflection on the operations of
our own minds, and be copied from
any internal impression. It may
be said, that we are every moment
conscious of internal power; while
we feel, that, by the simple
command of our will, we can move
the organs of our body, or direct the
faculties of our mind. An act of
volition produces motion in our
limbs, or raises a new idea in our
imagination. This influence of
the will we know by consciousness.
Hence we acquire the idea of
power or energy; and are certain,
that we ourselves and all other
intelligent beings are possessed
of power. This idea, then, is an idea
of reflection, since it arises from
reflecting on the operations of
our own mind, and on the command
which is exercised by will, both over
the organs of the body and faculties
of the soul.
52. We shall proceed to examine
this pretension; and first with
regard to the influence of volition
over the organs of the body.
This influence, we may observe,
is a fact, which, like all other
natural events, can be known only
be experience, and can never be
foreseen from any apparent energy
or power in the cause, which
connects it with the effect, and
renders the one an infallible
consequence of the other. The motion
of our body follows upon the
command of our will. Of this we
are every moment conscious. But the
means, by which this is effected;
the energy, by which the will
performs so extraordinary an operation;
of this we are so far from
being immediately conscious, that
it must for ever escape our most
diligent enquiry.
For first; is there any principle
in all nature more mysterious than
the union of soul with body; by
which a supposed spiritual substance
acquires such an influence over
a material one, that the most
refined thought is able to actuate
the grossest matter? Were we
empowered, by a secret wish, to
remove mountains, or control the
planets in their orbit; this extensive
authority would not be more
extraordinary, nor more beyond our
comprehension. But if by
consciousness we perceived any power
or energy in the will, we must
know this power; we must know its
connexion with the effect; we must
know the secret union of soul and
body, and the nature of both these
substances; by which the one is
able to operate, in so many instances,
upon the other.
Secondly, We are not able
to move all the organs of the body with
a like authority; though we cannot
assign any reason besides
experience, for so remarkable a
difference between one and the
other. Why has the will an influence
over the tongue and fingers,
not over the heart or liver? This
question would never embarrass us,
were we conscious of a power in
the former case, not in the latter. We
should then perceive, independent
of experience, why the authority
of will over the organs of the body
is circumscribed within such
particular limits. Being in that
case fully acquainted with the
power or force, by which it operates,
we should also know, why its
influence reaches precisely to such
boundaries, and no farther.
A man, suddenly struck with
palsy in the leg or arm, or who had
newly lost those members, frequently
endeavours, at first to move
them, and employ them in their usual
offices. Here he is as much
conscious of power to command such
limbs, as a man in perfect health
is conscious of power to actuate
any member which remains in its
natural state and condition. But
consciousness never deceives.
Consequently, neither in the one
case nor in the other, are we ever
conscious of any power. We learn
the influence of our will from
experience alone. And experience
only teaches us, how one event
constantly follows another; without
instructing us in the secret
connexion, which binds them together,
and renders them inseparable.
Thirdly, We learn from anatomy,
that the immediate object of power
in voluntary motion, is not the
member itself which is moved, but
certain muscles, and nerves, and
animal spirits, and, perhaps,
something still more minute and
more unknown, through which the motion
is successively propagated, ere
it reach the member itself whose
motion is the immediate object of
volition. Can there be a more
certain proof, that the power, by
which this whole operation is
performed, so far from being directly
and fully known by an inward
sentiment or consciousness, is,
to the last degree, mysterious and
unintelligible? Here the mind wills
a certain event: Immediately
another event, unknown to ourselves,
and totally different from the
one intended, is produced: This
event produces another, equally
unknown: Till at last, through a
long succession, the desired event is
produced. But if the original power
were felt, it must be known:
Were it known, its effect also must
be known; since all power is
relative to its effect. And vice
versa, if the effect be not known,
the power cannot be known nor felt.
How indeed can we be conscious
of a power to move our limbs, when
we have no such power; but only
that to move certain animal spirits,
which, though they produce at
last the motion of our limbs, yet
operate in such a manner as is
wholly beyond our comprehension?
We may, therefore, conclude
from the whole, I hope, without any
temerity, though with assurance;
that our idea of power is not
copied from any sentiment or consciousness
of power within
ourselves, when we give rise to
animal motion, or apply our limbs to
their proper use and office. That
their motion follows the command
of the will is a matter of common
experience, like other natural
events: But the power or energy
by which this is effected, like that
in other natural events, is unknown
and inconceivable.*
* It may be pretended, that
the resistance which we meet with in
bodies, obliging us frequently to
exert our force, and call up all our
power, this gives us the idea of
force and power. It is this nisus, or
strong endeavour, of which we are
conscious, that is the original
impression from which this idea
is copied. But, first, we attribute
power to a vast number of objects,
where we never can suppose this
resistance of exertion of force
to take place; to the Supreme Being,
who never meets with any resistance;
to the mind in its command over
its ideas and limbs, in common thinking
and motion, where the effect
follows immediately upon the will,
without any exertion or summoning
up of force; to inanimate matter,
which is not capable of this
sentiment. Secondly, This sentiment
of an endeavour to overcome
resistance has no known connexion
with any event: What follows it,
we know by experience; but could
not know it a priori. It must,
however, be confessed, that the
animal nisus, which we experience,
though it can afford no accurate
precise idea of power, enters very
much into that vulgar, inaccurate
idea, which is formed of it.
53. Shall we then assert,
that we are conscious of a power or energy
in our own minds, when, by an act
or command of our will, we raise
up a new idea, fix the mind to the
contemplation of it, turn it on all
sides, and at last dismiss it for
some other idea, when we think
that we have surveyed it with sufficient
accuracy? I believe the
same arguments will prove, that
even this command of the will gives us
no real idea of force or energy.
First, It must be allowed,
that, when we know a power, we know
that very circumstance in the cause,
by which it is enabled to produce
the effect: For these are supposed
to be synonimous. We must,
therefore, know both the cause and
effect, and the relation between
them. But do we pretend to be acquainted
with the nature of the
human soul and the nature of an
idea, or the aptitude of the one to
produce the other? This is a real
creation; a production of
something out of nothing: Which
implies a power so great, that it
may seem, at first sight, beyond
the reach of any being, less than
infinite. At least it must be owned,
that such a power is not felt,
nor known, nor even conceivable
by the mind. We only feel the event,
namely, the existence of an idea,
consequent to a command of the will:
But the manner, in which this operation
is performed, the power by
which it is produced, is entirely
beyond our comprehension.
Secondly, The command of the
mind over itself is limited, as well as
its command over the body; and these
limits are not known by reason,
or any acquaintance with the nature
of cause and effect, but only by
experience and observation, as in
all other natural events and in
the operation of external objects.
Our authority over our sentiments
and passions is much weaker than
that over our ideas; and even the
latter authority is circumscribed
within very narrow boundaries.
Will any one pretend to assign the
ultimate reason of these
boundaries, or show why the power
is deficient in one case, not in
another.
Thirdly, This self-command
is very different at different times. A
man in health possesses more of
it than one languishing with sickness.
We are more master of our thoughts
in the morning than in the evening:
Fasting, than after a full meal.
Can we give any reason for these
variations, except experience? Where
then is the power, of which we
pretend to be conscious? Is there
not here, either in a spiritual or
material substance, or both, some
secret mechanism or structure of
parts, upon which the effect depends,
and which, being entirely
unknown to us, renders the power
or energy of the will equally unknown
and incomprehensible?
Volition is surely an act
of the mind, with which we are
sufficiently acquainted. Reflect
upon it. Consider it on all sides. Do
you find anything in it like this
creative power, by which it raises
from nothing a new idea, and with
a kind of Fiat, imitates the
omnipotence of its Maker, if I may
be allowed so to speak, who
called forth into existence all
the various scenes of nature? So far
from being conscious of this energy
in the will, it requires as
certain experience as that of which
we are possessed, to convince us
that such extraordinary effects
do ever result from a simple act of
volition.
54. The generality of mankind
never find any difficulty in
accounting for the more common and
familiar operations of nature- such
as the descent of heavy bodies,
the growth of plants, the generation
of animals, or the nourishment of
bodies by food: But suppose that, in
all these cases, they perceive the
very force or energy of the
cause, by which it is connected
with its effect, and is for ever
infallible in its operation. They
acquire, by long habit, such a
turn of mind, that, upon the appearance
of the cause, they immediately
expect with assurance its usual
attendant, and hardly conceive it
possible that any other event could
result from it. It is only on
the discovery of extraordinary phaenomena,
such as earthquakes,
pestilence, and prodigies of any
kind, that they find themselves at
a loss to assign a proper cause,
and to explain the manner in which
the effect is produced by it. It
is usual for men, in such
difficulties, to have recourse to
some invisible intelligent
principle* as the immediate cause
of that event which surprises
them, and which, they think, cannot
be accounted for from the common
powers of nature. But philosophers,
who carry their scrutiny a
little farther, immediately perceive
that, even in the most familiar
events, the energy of the cause
is as unintelligible as in the most
unusual, and that we only learn
by experience the frequent Conjunction
of objects, without being ever able
to comprehend anything like
Connexion between them.
* Theos apo mechanes (deus
ex machina).
55. Here, then, many philosophers
think themselves obliged by reason
to have recourse, on all occasions,
to the same principle, which the
vulgar never appeal to but in cases
that appear miraculous and
supernatural. They acknowledge mind
and intelligence to be, not only
the ultimate and original cause
of all things, but the immediate and
sole cause of every event which
appears in nature. They pretend that
those objects which are commonly
denominated causes, are in reality
nothing but occasions; and that
the true and direct principle of every
effect is not any power or force
in nature, but a volition of the
Supreme Being, who wills that such
particular objects should for
ever be conjoined with each other.
Instead of saying that one
billiard-ball moves another by a
force which it has derived from the
author of nature, it is the Deity
himself, they say, who, by a
particular volition, moves the second
ball, being determined to this
operation by the impulse of the
first ball, in consequence of those
general laws which he has laid down
to himself in the government of
the universe. But philosophers advancing
still in their inquiries,
discover that, as we are totally
ignorant of the power on which
depends the mutual operation of
bodies, we are no less ignorant of
that power on which depends the
operation of mind on body, or of
body on mind; nor are we able, either
from our senses or
consciousness, to assign the ultimate
principle in one case more
than in the other. The same ignorance,
therefore, reduces them to
the same conclusion. They assert
that the Deity is the immediate cause
of the union between soul and body;
and that they are not the organs
of sense, which, being agitated
by external objects, produce
sensations in the mind; but that
it is a particular volition of our
omnipotent Maker, which excites
such a sensation, in consequence of
such a motion in the organ. In like
manner, it is not any energy in
the will that produces local motion
in our members: It is God himself,
who is pleased to second our will,
in itself impotent, and to
command that motion which we erroneously
attribute to our own power
and efficacy. Nor do philosophers
stop at this conclusion. They
sometimes extend the same inference
to the mind itself, in its
internal operations. Our mental
vision or conception of ideas is
nothing but a revelation made to
us by our Maker. When we
voluntarily turn our thoughts to
any object, and raise up its image in
the fancy, it is not the will which
creates that idea: It is the
universal Creator, who discovers
it to the mind, and renders it
present to us.
56. Thus, according to these
philosophers, every thing is full of
God. Not content with the principle,
that nothing exists but by his
will, that nothing possesses any
power but by his concession: They rob
nature, and all created beings,
of every power, in order to render
their dependence on the Deity still
more sensible and immediate.
They consider not that, by this
theory, they diminish, instead of
magnifying, the grandeur of those
attributes, which they affect so
much to celebrate. It argues surely
more power in the Deity to
delegate a certain degree of power
to inferior creatures than to
produce every thing by his own immediate
volition. It argues more
wisdom to contrive at first the
fabric of the world with such
perfect foresight that, of itself,
and by its proper operation, it may
serve all the purposes of providence,
than if the great Creator were
obliged every moment to adjust its
parts, and animate by his breath
all the wheels of that stupendous
machine.
But if we would have a more
philosophical confutation of this
theory, perhaps the two following
reflections may suffice.
57. First, it seems to me
that this theory of the universal energy
and operation of the Supreme Being
is too bold ever to carry
conviction with it to a man, sufficiently
apprized of the weakness
of human reason, and the narrow
limits to which it is confined in
all its operations. Though the chain
of arguments which conduct to
it were ever so logical, there must
arise a strong suspicion, if not
an absolute assurance, that it has
carried us quite beyond the reach
of our faculties, when it leads
to conclusions so extraordinary, and
so remote from common life and experience.
We are got into fairy land,
long ere we have reached the last
steps of our theory; and there we
have no reason to trust our common
methods of argument, or to think
that our usual analogies and probabilities
have any authority. Our
line is too short to fathom such
immense abysses. And however we may
flatter ourselves that we are guided,
in every step which we take,
by a kind of verisimilitude and
experience, we may be assured that
this fancied experience has no authority
when we thus apply it to
subjects that lie entirely out of
the sphere of experience. But on
this we shall have occasion to touch
afterwards.*
* Section XII.
Secondly, I cannot perceive
any force in the arguments on which this
theory is founded. We are ignorant,
it is true, of the manner in which
bodies operate on each other: Their
force or energy is entirely
incomprehensible: But are we not
equally ignorant of the manner or
force by which a mind, even the
supreme mind, operates either on
itself or on body? Whence, I beseech
you, do we acquire any idea of
it? We have no sentiment or consciousness
of this power in
ourselves. We have no idea of the
Supreme Being but what we learn from
reflection on our own faculties.
Were our ignorance, therefore, a good
reason for rejecting anything, we
should be led into that principle of
denying all energy in the Supreme
Being as much as in the grossest
matter. We surely comprehend as
little the operations of one as of the
other. Is it more difficult to conceive
that motion may arise from
impulse than that it may arise from
volition? All we know is our
profound ignorance in both cases.*
* I need not examine at length
the vis inertiae which is so much
talked of in the new philosophy,
and which is ascribed to matter. We
find by experience, that a body
at rest or in motion continues for
ever in its present state, till
put from it by some new cause; and
that a body impelled takes as much
motion from the impelling body as
it acquires itself. These are facts.
When we call this a vis inertiae,
we only mark these facts, without
pretending to have any idea of the
inert power; in the same manner
as, when we talk of gravity, we mean
certain effects, without comprehending
that active power. It was never
the meaning of Sir Isaac Newton
to rob second causes of all force or
energy; though some of his followers
have endeavoured to establish
that theory upon his authority.
On the contrary, that great
philosopher had recourse to an etherial
active fluid to explain his
universal attraction; though he
was so cautious and modest as to
allow, that it was a mere hypothesis,
not to be insisted on, without
more experiments. I must confess,
that there is something in the
fate of opinions a little extraordinary.
Descartes insinuated that
doctrine of the universal and sole
efficacy of the Deity, without
insisting on it. Malebranche and
other Cartesians made it the
foundation of all their philosophy.
It had, however, no authority in
England. Locke, Clarke, and Cudworth,
never so much as take notice
of it, but suppose all along, that
matter has a real, though
subordinate and derived power. By
what means has it become so
prevalent among our modern metaphysicians?
PART II.
58. But to hasten to a conclusion
of this argument, which is already
drawn out to too great a length:
We have sought in vain for an idea of
power or necessary connexion in
all the sources from which we could
suppose it to be derived. It appears
that, in single instances of
the operation of bodies, we never
can, by our utmost scrutiny,
discover anything but one event
following another, without being
able to comprehend any force or
power by which the cause operates,
or any connexion between it and
its supposed effect. The same
difficulty occurs in contemplating
the operations of mind on body-
where we observe the motion of the
latter to follow upon the
volition of the former, but are
not able to observe or conceive the
tie which binds together the motion
and volition, or the energy by
which the mind produces this effect.
The authority of the will over
its own faculties and ideas is not
a whit more comprehensible: So
that, upon the whole, there appears
not, throughout all nature, any
one instance of connexion which
is conceivable by us. All events
seem entirely loose and separate.
One event follows another; but we
never can observe any tie between
them. They seem conjoined, but never
connected. And as we can have no
idea of any thing which never
appeared to our outward sense or
inward sentiment, the necessary
conclusion seems to be that we have
no idea of connexion or power at
all, and that these words are absolutely
without any meaning, when
employed either in philosophical
reasonings or common life.
59. But there still remains
one method of avoiding this
conclusion, and one source which
we have not yet examined. When any
natural object or event is presented,
it is impossible for us, by
any sagacity or penetration, to
discover, or even conjecture,
without experience, what event will
result from it, or to carry our
foresight beyond that object which
is immediately present to the
memory and senses. Even after one
instance or experiment where we have
observed a particular event to follow
upon another, we are not
entitled to form a general rule,
or foretell what will happen in
like cases; it being justly esteemed
an unpardonable temerity to judge
of the whole course of nature from
one single experiment, however
accurate or certain. But when one
particular species of event has
always, in all instances, been conjoined
with another, we make no
any scruple of foretelling one upon
the appearance of the other, and
of employing that reasoning, which
can alone assure us of any matter
of fact or existence. We then call
the one object, Cause; the other,
Effect. We suppose that there is
some connexion between them; some
power in the one, by which it infallibly
produces the other, and
operates with the greatest certainty
and strongest necessity.
It appears, then, that this
idea of a necessary connexion among
events arises from a number of similar
instances which occur of the
constant conjunction of these events;
nor can that idea ever be
suggested by any one of these instances,
surveyed in all possible
lights and positions. But there
is nothing in a number of instances,
different from every single instance,
which is supposed to be
exactly similar; except only, that
after a repetition of similar
instances, the mind is carried by
habit, upon the appearance of one
event, to expect its usual attendant,
and to believe that it will
exist. This connexion, therefore,
which we feel in the mind, this
customary transition of the imagination
from one object to its usual
attendant, is the sentiment or impression
from which we form the
idea of power or necessary connexion.
Nothing farther is in the
case. Contemplate the subject on
all sides; you will never find any
other origin of that idea. This
is the sole difference between one
instance, from which we can never
receive the idea of connexion, and a
number of similar instances, by
which it is suggested. The first
time a man saw the communication
of motion by impulse, as by the shock
of two billiard balls, he could
not pronounce that the one event was
connected: but only that it was
conjoined with the other. After he has
observed several instances of this
nature, he then pronounces them
to be connected. What alteration
has happened to give rise to this new
idea of connexion? Nothing but that
he now feels these events to be
connected in his imagination, and
can readily foretell the existence
of one from the appearance of the
other. When we say, therefore,
that one object is connected with
another, we mean only that they have
acquired a connexion in our thought,
and give rise to this
inference, by which they become
proofs of each other's existence: A
conclusion which is somewhat extraordinary,
but which seems founded on
sufficient evidence. Nor will its
evidence be weakened by any
general diffidence of the understanding,
or sceptical suspicion
concerning every conclusion which
is new and extraordinary. No
conclusions can be more agreeable
to scepticism than such as make
discoveries concerning the weakness
and narrow limits of human
reason and capacity.
60. And what stronger instance
can be produced of the surprising
ignorance and weakness of the understanding
than the present? For
surely, if there be any relation
among objects which it imports to
us to know perfectly, it is that
of cause and effect. On this are
founded all our reasonings concerning
matter of fact or existence.
By means of it alone we attain any
assurance concerning objects
which are removed from the present
testimony of our memory and senses.
The only immediate utility of all
sciences, is to teach us, how to
control and regulate future events
by their causes. Our thoughts and
enquiries are, therefore, every
moment, employed about this
relation: Yet so imperfect are the
ideas which we form concerning
it, that it is impossible to give
any just definition of cause, except
what is drawn from something extraneous
and foreign to it. Similar
objects are always conjoined with
similar. Of this we have experience.
Suitably to this experience, therefore,
we may define a cause to be an
object, followed by another, and
where all the objects similar to
the first are followed by objects
similar to the second. Or in other
words where, if the first object
had not been, the second never had
existed. The appearance of a cause
always conveys the mind, by a
customary transition, to the idea
of the effect. Of this also we
have experience. We may, therefore,
suitably to this experience,
form another definition of cause,
and call it, an object followed by
another, and whose appearance always
conveys the thought to that
other. But though both these definitions
be drawn from circumstances
foreign to the cause, we cannot
remedy this inconvenience, or attain
any more perfect definition, which
may point out that circumstance
in the cause, which gives it a connexion
with its effect. We have no
idea of this connexion, nor even
any distinct notion what it is we
desire to know, when we endeavour
at a conception of it. We say, for
instance, that the vibration of
this string is the cause of this
particular sound. But what do we
mean by that affirmation? We either
mean that this vibration is followed
by this sound, and that all
similar vibrations have been followed
by similar sounds: Or, that this
vibration is followed by this sound,
and that upon the appearance of
one the mind anticipates the senses,
and forms immediately an idea
of the other. We may consider the
relation of cause and effect in
either of these two lights; but
beyond these, we have no idea of it.*
* According to these explications
and definitions, the idea of power
is relative as much as that of cause;
and both have a reference to
an effect, or some other event constantly
conjoined with the former.
When we consider the unknown circumstance
of an object, by which the
degree or quantity of its effect
is fixed and determined, we call that
its power: And accordingly, it is
allowed by all philosophers, that
the effect is the measure of the
power. But if they had any idea of
power, as it is in itself, why could
not they Measure it in itself?
The dispute whether the force of
a body in motion be as its
velocity, or the square of its velocity;
this dispute, I say, need not
be decided by comparing its effects
in equal or unequal times; but
by a direct mensuration and comparison.
As to the frequent use of
the words, Force, Power, Energy, &c.,
which every where occur in common
conversation, as well as in
philosophy; that is no proof, that
we are acquainted, in any instance,
with the connecting principle between
cause and effect, or can account
ultimately for the production of
one thing to another. These words, as
commonly used, have very loose meanings
annexed to them; and their
ideas are very uncertain and confused.
No animal can put external
bodies in motion without the sentiment
of a nisus or endeavour; and
every animal has a sentiment or
feeling from the stroke or blow of
an external object that is in motion.
These sensations, which are
merely animal, and from which we
can a priori draw no inference, we
are apt to transfer to inanimate
objects, and to suppose, that they
have some such feelings, whenever
they transfer or receive motion.
With regard to energies, which are
exerted, without our annexing to
them any idea of communicated motion,
we consider only the constant
experienced conjunction of the events;
and as we feel a customary
connexion between the ideas, we
transfer that feeling to the
objects; as nothing is more usual
than to apply to external bodies
every internal sensation, which
they occasion.
61. To recapitulate, therefore,
the reasonings of this section:
Every idea is copied from some preceding
impression or sentiment;
and where we cannot find any impression,
we may be certain that
there is no idea. In all single
instances of the operation of bodies
or minds, there is nothing that
produces any impression, nor
consequently can suggest any idea
of power or necessary connexion. But
when many uniform instances appear,
and the same object is always
followed by the same event; we then
begin to entertain the notion of
cause and connexion. We then feel
a new sentiment or impression, to
wit, a customary connexion in the
thought or imagination between one
object and its usual attendant;
and this sentiment is the original
of that idea which we seek for.
For as this idea arises from a
number of similar instances, and
not from any single instance, it must
arise from that circumstance, in
which the number of instances
differ from every individual instance.
But this customary connexion or
transition of the imagination is
the only circumstance in which they
differ. In every other particular
they are alike. The first instance
which we saw of motion communicated
by the shock of two billiard balls
(to return to this obvious illustration)
is exactly similar to any
instance that may, at present, occur
to us; except only, that we could
not, at first, infer one event from
the other; which we are enabled to
do at present, after so long a course
of uniform experience. I know
not whether the reader will readily
apprehend this reasoning. I am
afraid that, should I multiply words
about it, or throw it into a
greater variety of lights, it would
only become more obscure and
intricate. In all abstract reasonings
there is one point of view
which, if we can happily hit, we
shall go farther towards illustrating
the subject than by all the eloquence
and copious expression in the
world. This point of view we should
endeavour to reach, and reserve
the flowers of rhetoric for subjects
which are more adapted to them.