| INTRODUCTION
1. Philosophy being nothing else but the study of wisdom
and truth, it may with reason be expected that those who have spent most
time and pains in it should enjoy a greater calm and serenity of mind, a
greater clearness and evidence of knowledge, and be less disturbed with
doubts and difficulties than other men. Yet so it is, we see the
illiterate bulk of mankind that walk the high-road of plain common
sense, and are governed by the dictates of Nature, for the most part
easy and undisturbed. To them nothing that is familiar appears
unaccountable or difficult to comprehend. They complain not of any want
of evidence in their senses, and are out of all danger of becoming sceptics. But no sooner do we depart from sense and instinct to follow
the light of a superior principle, to reason, meditate, and reflect on
the nature of things, but a thousand scruples spring up in our minds
concerning those things which before we seemed fully to comprehend.
Prejudices and errors of sense do from all parts discover themselves to
our view; and, endeavouring to correct these by reason, we are
insensibly drawn into uncouth paradoxes, difficulties, and
inconsistencies, which multiply and grow upon us as we advance in
speculation, till at length, having wandered through many intricate
mazes, we find ourselves just where we were, or, which is worse, sit
down in a forlorn scepticism.
2. The cause of this is thought to be the obscurity of things, or the
natural weakness and imperfection of our understandings. It is said, the
faculties we have are few, and those designed by Nature for the support
and comfort of life, and not to penetrate into the inward essence and
constitution of things. Besides, the mind of man being finite, when it
treats of things which partake of infinity, it is not to be wondered at
if it run into absurdities and contradictions, out of which it is
impossible it should ever extricate itself, it being of the nature of
infinite not to be comprehended by that which is finite.
3. But, perhaps, we may be too partial to ourselves in placing the
fault originally in our faculties, and not rather in the wrong use we
make of them. It is a hard thing to suppose that right deductions from
true principles should ever end in consequences which cannot be
maintained or made consistent. We should believe that God has dealt more
bountifully with the sons of men than to give them a strong desire for
that knowledge which He had placed quite out of their reach. This were
not agreeable to the wonted indulgent methods of Providence, which,
whatever appetites it may have implanted in the creatures, doth usually
furnish them with such means as, if rightly made use of, will not fail
to satisfy them. Upon the whole, I am inclined to think that the far
greater part, if not all, of those difficulties which have hitherto
amused philosophers, and blocked up the way to knowledge, are entirely
owing to ourselves- that we have first raised a dust and then complain
we cannot see.
4. My purpose therefore is, to try if I can discover what those
Principles are which have introduced all that doubtfulness and
uncertainty, those absurdities and contradictions, into the several
sects of philosophy; insomuch that the wisest men have thought our
ignorance incurable, conceiving it to arise from the natural dulness and
limitation of our faculties. And surely it is a work well deserving our
pains to make a strict inquiry concerning the First Principles of Human
Knowledge, to sift and examine them on all sides, especially since there
may be some grounds to suspect that those lets and difficulties, which
stay and embarrass the mind in its search after truth, do not spring
from any darkness and intricacy in the objects, or natural defect in the
understanding, so much as from false Principles which have been insisted
on, and might have been avoided.
5. How difficult and discouraging soever this attempt may seem, when
I consider how many great and extraordinary men have gone before me in
the like designs, yet I am not without some hopes- upon the
consideration that the largest views are not always the clearest, and
that he who is short-sighted will be obliged to draw the object nearer,
and may, perhaps, by a close and narrow survey, discern that which had
escaped far better eyes.
6. In order to prepare the mind of the reader for the easier
conceiving what follows, it is proper to premise somewhat, by way of
Introduction, concerning the nature and abuse of Language. But the
unravelling this matter leads me in some measure to anticipate my
design, by taking notice of what seems to have had a chief part in
rendering speculation intricate and perplexed, and to have occasioned
innumerable errors and difficulties in almost all parts of knowledge.
And that is the opinion that the mind hath a power of framing abstract
ideas or notions of things. He who is not a perfect stranger to the
writings and disputes of philosophers must needs acknowledge that no
small part of them are spent about abstract ideas. These are in a more
especial manner thought to be the object of those sciences which go by
the name of Logic and Metaphysics, and of all that which passes under
the notion of the most abstracted and sublime learning, in all which one
shall scarce find any question handled in such a manner as does not
suppose their existence in the mind, and that it is well acquainted with
them.
7. It is agreed on all hands that the qualities or modes of things do
never really exist each of them apart by itself, and separated from all
others, but are mixed, as it were, and blended together, several in the
same object. But, we are told, the mind being able to consider each
quality singly, or abstracted from those other qualities with which it
is united, does by that means frame to itself abstract ideas. For
example, there is perceived by sight an object extended, coloured, and
moved: this mixed or compound idea the mind resolving into its simple,
constituent parts, and viewing each by itself, exclusive of the rest,
does frame the abstract ideas of extension, colour, and motion. Not that
it is possible for colour or motion to exist without extension; but only
that the mind can frame to itself by abstraction the idea of colour
exclusive of extension, and of motion exclusive of both colour and
extension.
8. Again, the mind having observed that in the particular extensions
perceived by sense there is something common and alike in all, and some
other things peculiar, as this or that figure or magnitude, which
distinguish them one from another; it considers apart or singles out by
itself that which is common, making thereof a most abstract idea of
extension, which is neither line, surface, nor solid, nor has any figure
or magnitude, but is an idea entirely prescinded from all these. So
likewise the mind, by leaving out of the particular colours perceived by
sense that which distinguishes them one from another, and retaining that
only which is common to all, makes an idea of colour in abstract which
is neither red, nor blue, nor white, nor any other determinate colour.
And, in like manner, by considering motion abstractedly not only from
the body moved, but likewise from the figure it describes, and all
particular directions and velocities, the abstract idea of motion is
framed; which equally corresponds to all particular motions whatsoever
that may be perceived by sense.
9. And as the mind frames to itself abstract ideas of qualities or
modes, so does it, by the same precision or mental separation, attain
abstract ideas of the more compounded beings which include several
coexistent qualities. For example, the mind having observed that Peter,
James, and John resemble each other in certain common agreements of
shape and other qualities, leaves out of the complex or compounded idea
it has of Peter, James, and any other particular man, that which is
peculiar to each, retaining only what is common to all, and so makes an
abstract idea wherein all the particulars equally partake, abstracting
entirely from and cutting off all those circumstances and differences
which might determine it to any particular existence. And after this
manner it is said we come by the abstract idea of man, or, if you
please, humanity, or human nature; wherein it is true there is included
colour, because there is no man but has some colour, but then it can be
neither white, nor black, nor any particular colour, because there is no
one particular colour wherein all men partake. So likewise there is
included stature, but then it is neither tall stature, nor low stature,
nor yet middle stature, but something abstracted from all these. And so
of the rest. Moreover, their being a great variety of other creatures
that partake in some parts, but not all, of the complex idea of man, the
mind, leaving out those parts which are peculiar to men, and retaining
those only which are common to all the living creatures, frames the idea
of animal, which abstracts not only from all particular men, but also
all birds, beasts, fishes, and insects. The constituent parts of the
abstract idea of animal are body, life, sense, and spontaneous motion.
By body is meant body without any particular shape or figure, there
being no one shape or figure common to all animals, without covering,
either of hair, or feathers, or scales, &c., nor yet naked: hair,
feathers, scales, and nakedness being the distinguishing properties of
particular animals, and for that reason left out of the abstract
idea.
Upon the same account the spontaneous motion must be neither walking,
nor flying, nor creeping; it is nevertheless a motion, but what that
motion is it is not easy to conceive.
10. Whether others have this wonderful faculty of
abstracting their ideas, they best can tell: for myself, I find indeed I have a faculty of
imagining, or representing to myself, the ideas of those particular
things I have perceived, and of variously compounding and dividing them.
I can imagine a man with two heads, or the upper parts of a man joined
to the body of a horse. I can consider the hand, the eye, the nose, each
by itself abstracted or separated from the rest of the body. But then
whatever hand or eye I imagine, it must have some particular shape and
colour. Likewise the idea of man that I frame to myself must be either
of a white, or a black, or a tawny, a straight, or a crooked, a tall, or
a low, or a middle-sized man. I cannot by any effort of thought conceive
the abstract idea above described. And it is equally impossible for me
to form the abstract idea of motion distinct from the body moving, and
which is neither swift nor slow, curvilinear nor rectilinear; and the
like may be said of all other abstract general ideas whatsoever. To be
plain, I own myself able to abstract in one sense, as when I consider
some particular parts or qualities separated from others, with which,
though they are united in some object, yet it is possible they may
really exist without them. But I deny that I can abstract from one
another, or conceive separately, those qualities which it is impossible
should exist so separated; or that I can frame a general notion, by
abstracting from particulars in the manner aforesaid. Which two last are the
proper acceptations of abstraction. And there are grounds to think
most men will acknowledge themselves to be in my case. The generality of
men which are simple and illiterate never pretend to abstract
notions.
It is said they are difficult and not to be attained without pains and
study; we may therefore reasonably conclude that, if such there be, they
are confined only to the learned.
11. I proceed to examine what can be alleged in defence of the
doctrine of abstraction, and try if I can discover what it is that
inclines the men of speculation to embrace an opinion so remote from
common sense as that seems to be. There has been a late deservedly
esteemed philosopher who, no doubt, has given it very much countenance,
by seeming to think the having abstract general ideas is what puts the
widest difference in point of understanding betwixt man and beast.
"The having of general ideas," saith he, "is that which
puts a perfect distinction betwixt man and brutes, and is an excellency
which the faculties of brutes do by no means attain unto. For, it is
evident we observe no foot-steps in them of making use of general signs
for universal ideas; from which we have reason to imagine that they have
not the faculty of abstracting or making general ideas, since they have
no use of words or any other general signs." And a little after:
"Therefore, I think, we may suppose that it is in this that the
species of brutes are discriminated from men, and it is that proper
difference wherein they are wholly separated, and which at last widens
to so wide a distance. For, if they have any ideas at all, and are not
bare machines (as some would have them), we cannot deny them to have
some reason. It seems as evident to me that they do, some of them, in
certain instances reason as that they have sense; but it is only in
particular ideas, just as they receive them from their senses. They are
the best of them tied up within those narrow bounds, and have not (as I
think) the faculty to enlarge them by any kind of abstraction."
[Locke] Essay on Human Understanding, II. xi. 10 and 11. I readily agree with
this learned author, that the faculties of brutes can by no means attain
to abstraction. But then if this be made the distinguishing property of
that sort of animals, I fear a great many of those that pass for men
must be reckoned into their number. The reason that is here assigned why
we have no grounds to think brutes have abstract general ideas is, that
we observe in them no use of words or any other general signs; which is
built on this supposition, to wit, that the making use of words implies the
having general ideas. From which it follows that men who use language
are able to abstract or generalize their ideas. That this is the sense
and arguing of the author will further appear by his answering the
question he in another place puts: "Since all things that exist are
only particulars, how come we by general terms?" His answer is:
"Words become general by being made the signs of general
ideas." Essay on Human Understanding, IV. iii. 6. But it seems
that a word becomes general by being made the sign, not of an abstract
general idea, but of several particular ideas, any one of which it
indifferently suggests to the mind. For example, when it is said the change of motion is proportional to the impressed
force,
or that whatever has extension is divisible, these
propositions are to be understood of motion and extension in general;
and nevertheless it will not follow that they suggest to my thoughts an
idea of motion without a body moved, or any determinate direction and
velocity, or that I must conceive an abstract general idea of extension,
which is neither line, surface, nor solid, neither great nor small,
black, white, nor red, nor of any other determinate colour. It is only
implied that whatever particular motion I consider, whether it be swift
or slow, perpendicular, horizontal, or oblique, or in whatever object,
the axiom concerning it holds equally true. As does the other of every
particular extension, it matters not whether line, surface, or solid,
whether of this or that magnitude or figure.
12. By observing how ideas become general we may the better judge how
words are made so. And here it is to be noted that I do not deny
absolutely there are general ideas, but only that there are any abstract
general ideas; for, in the passages we have quoted wherein there is
mention of general ideas, it is always supposed that they are formed by abstraction, after the manner set forth in sections 8 and 9. Now, if we
will annex a meaning to our words, and speak only of what we can
conceive, I believe we shall acknowledge that an idea which, considered
in itself, is particular, becomes general by being made to represent or
stand for all other particular ideas of the same sort. To make this
plain by an example, suppose a geometrician is demonstrating the method
of cutting a line in two equal parts. He draws, for instance, a black
line of an inch in length: this, which in itself is a particular line,
is nevertheless with regard to its signification general, since, as it
is there used, it represents all particular lines whatsoever; so that
what is demonstrated of it is demonstrated of all lines, or, in other
words, of a line in general. And, as that particular line becomes
general by being made a sign, so the name line, which taken
absolutely is particular, by being a sign is made general. And as the
former owes its generality not to its being the sign of an abstract or
general line, but of all particular right lines that may possibly exist,
so the latter must be thought to derive its generality from the same
cause, namely, the various particular lines which it indifferently
denotes.
13. To give the reader a yet clearer view of the nature of abstract
ideas, and the uses they are thought necessary to, I shall add one more
passage out of the Essay on Human Understanding, (IV. vii. 9) which is
as follows: "Abstract ideas are not so obvious or easy to children
or the yet unexercised mind as particular ones. If they seem so to grown
men it is only because by constant and familiar use they are made so.
For, when we nicely reflect upon them, we shall find that general ideas
are fictions and contrivances of the mind, that carry difficulty with
them, and do not so easily offer themselves as we are apt to imagine.
For example, does it not require some pains and skill to form the
general idea of a triangle (which is yet none of the most abstract,
comprehensive, and difficult); for it must be neither oblique nor
rectangle, neither equilateral, equicrural, nor scalenon, but all and
none of these at once? In effect, it is something imperfect that cannot
exist, an idea wherein some parts of several different and inconsistent
ideas are put together. It is true the mind in this imperfect state has
need of such ideas, and makes all the haste to them it can, for the
conveniency of communication and enlargement of knowledge, to both which
it is naturally very much inclined. But yet one has reason to suspect
such ideas are marks of our imperfection. At least this is enough to
show that the most abstract and general ideas are not those that the
mind is first and most easily acquainted with, nor such as its earliest
knowledge is conversant about." B4. C7. Sect. 9. If any man has the faculty of
framing in his mind such an idea of a triangle as is here described, it
is in vain to pretend to dispute him out of it, nor would I go about it.
All I desire is that the reader would fully and certainly inform himself
whether he has such an idea or no. And this, methinks, can be no hard
task for anyone to perform. What more easy than for anyone to look a
little into his own thoughts, and there try whether he has, or can
attain to have, an idea that shall correspond with the description that
is here given of the general idea of a triangle, which is neither
oblique nor rectangle, equilateral, equicrural nor scalenon, but all and
none of these at once?
14. Much is here said of the difficulty that abstract ideas carry
with them, and the pains and skill requisite to the forming them. And it
is on all hands agreed that there is need of great toil and labour of
the mind, to emancipate our thoughts from particular objects, and raise
them to those sublime speculations that are conversant about abstract
ideas. From all which the natural consequence should seem to be, that so
difficult a thing as the forming abstract ideas was not necessary for communication, which is so easy and familiar to all sorts of men. But,
we are told, if they seem obvious and easy to grown men, it is only
because by constant and familiar use they are made so. Now, I would fain
know at what time it is men are employed in surmounting that difficulty,
and furnishing themselves with those necessary helps for discourse. It
cannot be when they are grown up, for then it seems they are not
conscious of any such painstaking; it remains therefore to be the
business of their childhood. And surely the great and multiplied labour
of framing abstract notions will be found a hard task for that tender
age. Is it not a hard thing to imagine that a couple of children cannot
prate together of their sugar-plums and rattles and the rest of their
little trinkets, till they have first tacked together numberless
inconsistencies, and so framed in their minds abstract general ideas,
and annexed them to every common name they make use of?
15. Nor do I think them a whit more needful for the
enlargement of
knowledge than for communication. It is, I know, a point much insisted
on, that all knowledge and demonstration are about universal notions, to
which I fully agree: but then it doth not appear to me that those
notions are formed by abstraction in the manner premised; universality,
so far as I can comprehend, not consisting in the absolute, positive
nature or conception of anything, but in the relation it bears to the
particulars signified or represented by it; by virtue whereof it is that
things, names, or notions, being in their own nature particular, are
rendered universal. Thus, when I demonstrate any proposition concerning
triangles, it is to be supposed that I have in view the universal idea
of a triangle; which ought not to be understood as if I could frame an
idea of a triangle which was neither equilateral, nor scalenon, nor
equicrural; but only that the particular triangle I consider, whether of
this or that sort it matters not, doth equally stand for and represent
all rectilinear triangles whatsoever, and is in that sense universal.
All which seems very plain and not to include any difficulty in it.
16. But here it will be demanded, how we can know any proposition to
be true of all particular triangles, except we have first seen it
demonstrated of the abstract idea of a triangle which equally agrees to
all? For, because a property may be demonstrated to agree to some one
particular triangle, it will not thence follow that it equally belongs
to any other triangle, which in all respects is not the same with it.
For example, having demonstrated that the three angles of an isosceles
rectangular triangle are equal to two right ones, I cannot therefore
conclude this affection agrees to all other triangles which have neither
a right angle nor two equal sides. It seems therefore that, to be
certain this proposition is universally true, we must either make a
particular demonstration for every particular triangle, which is
impossible, or once for all demonstrate it of the abstract idea of a
triangle, in which all the particulars do indifferently partake and by
which they are all equally represented. To which I answer, that, though
the idea I have in view whilst I make the demonstration be, for
instance, that of an isosceles rectangular triangle whose sides are of a
determinate length, I may nevertheless be certain it extends to all
other rectilinear triangles, of what sort or bigness soever. And that
because neither the right angle, nor the equality, nor determinate
length of the sides are at all concerned in the demonstration. It is
true the diagram I have in view includes all these particulars, but then
there is not the least mention made of them in the proof of the
proposition. It is not said the three angles are equal to two right
ones, because one of them is a right angle, or because the sides
comprehending it are of the same length. Which sufficiently shows that
the right angle might have been oblique, and the sides unequal, and for
all that the demonstration have held good. And for this reason it is
that I conclude that to be true of any obliquangular or scalenon which I
had demonstrated of a particular right-angled, equicrural triangle, and
not because I demonstrated the proposition of the abstract idea of a
triangle And here it must be acknowledged that a man may consider a
figure merely as triangular, without attending to the particular
qualities of the angles, or relations of the sides. So far he may
abstract; but this will never prove that he can frame an abstract,
general, inconsistent idea of a triangle. In like manner we may consider
Peter so far forth as man, or so far forth as animal without framing the
fore-mentioned abstract idea, either of man or of animal, inasmuch as
all that is perceived is not considered.
17. It were an endless as well as an useless thing to trace the
Schoolmen, those great masters of abstraction, through all the manifold
inextricable labyrinths of error and dispute which their doctrine of
abstract natures and notions seems to have led them into. What
bickerings and controversies, and what a learned dust have been raised
about those matters, and what mighty advantage has been from thence
derived to mankind, are things at this day too clearly known to need
being insisted on. And it had been well if the ill effects of that
doctrine were confined to those only who make the most avowed profession
of it. When men consider the great pains, industry, and parts that have
for so many ages been laid out on the cultivation and advancement of the
sciences, and that notwithstanding all this the far greater part of them
remains full of darkness and uncertainty, and disputes that are like
never to have an end, and even those that are thought to be supported by
the most clear and cogent demonstrations contain in them paradoxes which
are perfectly irreconcilable to the understandings of men, and that,
taking all together, a very small portion of them does supply any real
benefit to mankind, otherwise than by being an innocent diversion and
amusement- I say the consideration of all this is apt to throw them into
a despondency and perfect contempt of all study. But this may perhaps
cease upon a view of the false principles that have obtained in the
world, amongst all which there is none, methinks, hath a more wide and
extended sway over the thoughts of speculative men than this of abstract
general ideas.
18. I come now to consider the source of this prevailing notion, and
that seems to me to be language. And surely nothing of less extent than
reason itself could have been the source of an opinion so universally
received. The truth of this appears as from other reasons so also from
the plain confession of the ablest patrons of abstract ideas, who
acknowledge that they are made in order to naming; from which it is a
clear consequence that if there had been no such things as speech or
universal signs there never had been any thought of abstraction. See III. vi. 39, and elsewhere of the
Essay on Human Understanding. Let us
examine the manner wherein words have contributed to the origin of that
mistake. First then, it is thought that every name has, or ought to
have, one only precise and settled signification, which inclines men to
think there are certain abstract, determinate ideas, that constitute the
true and only immediate signification of each general name; and that it
is by the mediation of these abstract ideas that a general name comes to
signify any particular thing. Whereas, in truth, there is no such thing
as one precise and definite signification annexed to any general name,
they all signifying indifferently a great number of particular ideas.
All which doth evidently follow from what has been already said, and
will clearly appear to anyone by a little reflexion. To this it will be
objected that every name that has a definition is thereby restrained to
one certain signification. For example, a triangle is defined to be
a plain surface comprehended by three right lines, by which
that name is limited to denote one certain idea and no other. To which I
answer, that in the definition it is not said whether the surface be
great or small, black or white, nor whether the sides are long or short,
equal or unequal, nor with what angles they are inclined to each other;
in all which there may be great variety, and consequently there is no
one settled idea which limits the signification of the word triangle.
'Tis one thing for to keep a name constantly to the same definition, and
another to make it stand everywhere for the same idea; the one is
necessary, the other useless and impracticable.
19. But, to give a farther account how words came to produce the
doctrine of abstract ideas, it must be observed that it is a received
opinion that language has no other end but the communicating our ideas,
and that every significant name stands for an idea. This being so, and
it being withal certain that names which yet are not thought altogether
insignificant do not always mark out particular conceivable ideas, it is
straightway concluded that they stand for abstract notions. That there
are many names in use amongst speculative men which do not always
suggest to others determinate, particular ideas, or in truth anything at
all, is what nobody will deny. And a little attention will discover that
it is not necessary (even in the strictest reasonings) significant names
which stand for ideas should, every time they are used, excite in the
understanding the ideas they are made to stand for- in reading and
discoursing, names being for the most part used as letters are in
Algebra, in which, though a particular quantity be marked by each
letter, yet to proceed right it is not requisite that in every step each
letter suggest to your thoughts that particular quantity it was
appointed to stand for.
20. Besides, the communicating of ideas marked by words is not the
chief and only end of language, as is commonly supposed. There are other
ends, as the raising of some passion, the exciting to or deterring from
an action, the putting the mind in some particular disposition- to which
the former is in many cases barely subservient, and sometimes entirely
omitted, when these can be obtained without it, as I think does not
unfrequently happen in the familiar use of language. I entreat the
reader to reflect with himself, and see if it doth not often happen,
either in hearing or reading a discourse, that the passions of fear,
love, hatred, admiration, disdain, and the like, arise immediately in
his mind upon the perception of certain words, without any ideas coming
between. At first, indeed, the words might have occasioned ideas that
were fitting to produce those emotions; but, if I mistake not, it will
be found that, when language is once grown familiar, the hearing of the
sounds or sight of the characters is oft immediately attended with those
passions which at first were wont to be produced by the intervention of
ideas that are now quite omitted. May we not, for example, be affected
with the promise of a good thing, though we have not an idea of what it
is? Or is not the being threatened with danger sufficient to excite a
dread, though we think not of any particular evil likely to befal us,
nor yet frame to ourselves an idea of danger in abstract? If any one
shall join ever so little reflexion of his own to what has been said, I
believe that it will evidently appear to him that general names are
often used in the propriety of language without the speaker's designing
them for marks of ideas in his own, which he would have them raise in
the mind of the hearer. Even proper names themselves do not seem always
spoken with a design to bring into our view the ideas of those
individuals that are supposed to be marked by them. For example, when a
schoolman tells me Aristotle hath said it, all I conceive he
means by it is to dispose me to embrace his opinion with the deference
and submission which custom has annexed to that name. And this effect is
often so instantly produced in the minds of those who are accustomed to
resign their judgment to authority of that philosopher, as it is
impossible any idea either of his person, writings, or reputation should
go before. Innumerable examples of this kind may be given, but why
should I insist on those things which every one's experience will, I
doubt not, plentifully suggest unto him?
21. We have, I think, shewn the impossibility of
Abstract Ideas. We
have considered what has been said for them by their ablest patrons; and
endeavored to show they are of no use for those ends to which they are
thought necessary. And lastly, we have traced them to the source from
whence they flow, which appears evidently to be language.- It cannot be
denied that words are of excellent use, in that by their means all that
stock of knowledge which has been purchased by the joint labours of
inquisitive men in all ages and nations may be drawn into the view and
made the possession of one single person. But at the same time it must
be owned that most parts of knowledge have been strangely perplexed and
darkened by the abuse of words, and general ways of speech wherein they
are delivered. Since therefore words are so apt to impose on the
understanding, whatever ideas I consider, I shall endeavour to take them
bare and naked into my view, keeping out of my thoughts so far as I am
able, those names which long and constant use hath so strictly united
with them; from which I may expect to derive the following advantages:
22. First, I shall be sure to get clear of all controversies purely
verbal; the springing up of which weeds in almost all the sciences has
been a main hindrance to the growth of true and sound knowledge.
Secondly, this seems to be a sure way to extricate myself out of that
fine and subtle net of abstract ideas which has so miserably perplexed
and entangled the minds of men; and that with this peculiar
circumstance, that by how much the finer and more curious was the wit of
any man, by so much the deeper was he likely to be ensnared and faster
held therein. Thirdly, so long as I confine my thoughts to my own ideas
divested of words, I do not see how I can easily be mistaken. The
objects I consider, I clearly and adequately know. I cannot be deceived
in thinking I have an idea which I have not. It is not possible for me
to imagine that any of my own ideas are alike or unlike that are not
truly so. To discern the agreements or disagreements there are between
my ideas, to see what ideas are included in any compound idea and what
not, there is nothing more requisite than an attentive perception of
what passes in my own understanding.
23. But the attainment of all these advantages doth presuppose an
entire deliverance from the deception of words, which I dare hardly
promise myself; so difficult a thing it is to dissolve an union so early
begun, and confirmed by so long a habit as that betwixt words and ideas.
Which difficulty seems to have been very much increased by the doctrine
of abstraction. For, so long as men thought abstract ideas were annexed
to their words, it doth not seem strange that they should use words for
ideas- it being found an impracticable thing to lay aside the word, and
retain the abstract idea in the mind, which in itself was perfectly
inconceivable. This seems to me the principal cause why those men who
have so emphatically recommended to others the laying aside all use of
words in their meditations, and contemplating their bare ideas, have yet
failed to perform it themselves. Of late many have been very sensible of
the absurd opinions and insignificant disputes which grow out of the
abuse of words. And, in order to remedy these evils, they advise well,
that we attend to the ideas signified, and draw off our attention from
the words which signify them. But, how good soever this advice may be
they have given others, it is plain they could not have a due regard to
it themselves, so long as they thought the only immediate use of words
was to signify ideas, and that the immediate signification of every
general name was a determinate abstract idea.
24. But, these being known to be mistakes, a man may with greater
ease prevent his being imposed on by words. He that knows he has no
other than particular ideas, will not puzzle himself in vain to find out
and conceive the abstract idea annexed to any name. And he that knows
names do not always stand for ideas will spare himself the labour of
looking for ideas where there are none to be had. It were, therefore, to
be wished that everyone would use his utmost endeavours to obtain a
clear view of the ideas he would consider, separating from them all that
dress and incumbrance of words which so much contribute to blind the
judgment and divide the attention. In vain do we extend our view into
the heavens and pry into the entrails of the earth, in vain do we
consult the writings of learned men and trace the dark footsteps of
antiquity- we need only draw the curtain of words, to hold the fairest
tree of knowledge, whose fruit is excellent, and within the reach of our
hand.
25. Unless we take care to clear the First Principles of Knowledge
from the embarras and delusion of words, we may make infinite reasonings
upon them to no purpose; we may draw consequences from consequences, and
be never the wiser. The farther we go, we shall only lose ourselves the
more irrecoverably, and be the deeper entangled in difficulties and
mistakes. Whoever therefore designs to read the following sheets, I
entreat him to make my words the occasion of his own thinking, and
endeavour to attain the same train of thoughts in reading that I had in
writing them. By this means it will be easy for him to discover the
truth or falsity of what I say. He will be out of all danger of being
deceived by my words, and I do not see how he can be led into an error
by considering his own naked, undisguised ideas.
END OF INTRODUCTION
|