1. Objection. "Knowledge placed in our ideas may be all unreal or chimerical." I doubt not but my
reader, by this time, may be apt to think that I have been all this while only building a castle in the
air; and be ready to say to me:
"To what purpose all this stir? Knowledge, say you, is only the perception of the agreement or
disagreement of our own ideas: but who knows what those ideas may be? Is there anything so
extravagant as the imaginations of men's brains? Where is the head that has no chimeras in it? Or if
there be a sober and a wise man, what difference will there be, by your rules, between his
knowledge and that of the most extravagant fancy in the world? They both have their ideas, and
perceive their agreement and disagreement one with another. If there be any difference between
them, the advantage will be on the warm-headed man's side, as having the more ideas, and the
more lively. And so, by your rules, he will be the more knowing. If it be true, that all knowledge lies
only in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our own ideas, the visions of an
enthusiast and the reasonings of a sober man will be equally certain. It is no matter how things are:
so a man observe but the agreement of his own imaginations, and talk conformably, it is all truth, all
certainty. Such castles in the air will be as strongholds of truth, as the demonstrations of Euclid.
That an harpy is not a centaur is by this way as certain knowledge, and as much a truth, as that a
square is not a circle."
"But of what use is all this fine knowledge of men's own imaginations, to a man that inquires after
the reality of things? It matters not what men's fancies are, it is the knowledge of things that is only
to be prized: it is this alone gives a value to our reasonings, and preference to one man's knowledge
over another's, that it is of things as they really are, and not of dreams and fancies."
2. Answer: "Not so, where ideas agree with things." To which I answer, That if our knowledge of our
ideas terminate in them, and reach no further, where there is something further intended, our most
serious thoughts will be of little more use than the reveries of a crazy brain; and the truths built
thereon of no more weight than the discourses of a man who sees things clearly in a dream, and
with great assurance utters them. But I hope, before I have done, to make it evident, that this way of
certainty, by the knowledge of our own ideas, goes a little further than bare imagination: and I
believe it will appear that all the certainty of general truths a man has lies in nothing else.
3. But what shall be the criterion of this agreement? It is evident the mind knows not things
immediately, but only by the intervention of the ideas it has of them. Our knowledge, therefore is real
only so far as there is a conformity between our ideas and the reality of things. But what shall be
here the criterion? How shall the mind, when it perceives nothing but its own ideas, know that they
agree with things themselves? This, though it seems not to want difficulty, yet, I think, there be two
sorts of ideas that we may be assured agree with things.
4. As all simple ideas are really conformed to things. First, The first are simple ideas, which since
the mind, as has been shown, can by no means make to itself, must necessarily be the product of
things operating on the mind, in a natural way, and producing therein those perceptions which by
the Wisdom and Will of our Maker they are ordained and adapted to. From whence it follows, that
simple ideas are not fictions of our fancies, but the natural and regular productions of things without
us, really operating upon us; and so carry with them all the conformity which is intended; or which
our state requires: for they represent to us things under those appearances which they are fitted to
produce in us: whereby we are enabled to distinguish the sorts of particular substances, to discern
the states they are in, and so to take them for our necessities, and apply them to our uses. Thus the
idea of whiteness, or bitterness, as it is in the mind, exactly answering that power which is in any
body to produce it there, has all the real conformity it can or ought to have, with things without us.
And this conformity between our simple ideas and the existence of things, is sufficient for real
knowledge.
5. All complex ideas, except ideas of substances, are their own archetypes. Secondly, All our
complex ideas, except those of substances, being archetypes of the mind's own making, not
intended to be the copies of anything, nor referred to the existence of anything, as to their originals,
cannot want any conformity necessary to real knowledge. For that which is not designed to
represent anything but itself, can never be capable of a wrong representation, nor mislead us from
the true apprehension of anything, by its dislikeness to it: and such, excepting those of substances,
are all our complex ideas. Which, as I have shown in another place, are combinations of ideas,
which the mind, by its free choice, puts together, without considering any connexion they have in
nature. And hence it is, that in all these sorts the ideas themselves are considered as the
archetypes, and things no otherwise regarded, but as they are conformable to them. So that we
cannot but be infallibly certain, that all the knowledge we attain concerning these ideas is real, and
reaches things themselves. Because in all our thoughts, reasonings, and discourses of this kind, we
intend things no further than as they are conformable to our ideas. So that in these we cannot miss
of a certain and undoubted reality.
6. Hence the reality of mathematical knowledge. I doubt not but it will be easily granted, that the
knowledge we have of mathematical truths is not only certain, but real knowledge; and not the bare
empty vision of vain, insignificant chimeras of the brain: and yet, if we will consider, we shall find
that it is only of our own ideas. The mathematician considers the truth and properties belonging to a
rectangle or circle only as they are in idea in his own mind. For it is possible he never found either of
them existing mathematically, i.e., precisely true, in his life. But yet the knowledge he has of any
truths or properties belonging to a circle, or any other mathematical figure, are nevertheless true and
certain, even of real things existing: because real things are no further concerned, nor intended to
be meant by any such propositions, than as things really agree to those archetypes in his mind. Is it
true of the idea of a triangle, that its three angles are equal to two right ones? It is true also of a
triangle, wherever it really exists. Whatever other figure exists, that it is not exactly answerable to
that idea of a triangle in his mind, is not at all concerned in that proposition. And therefore he is
certain all his knowledge concerning such ideas is real knowledge: because, intending things no
further than they agree with those his ideas, he is sure what he knows concerning those figures,
when they have barely an ideal existence in his mind, will hold true of them also when they have a
real existence in matter: his consideration being barely of those figures, which are the same
wherever or however they exist.
7. And of moral. And hence it follows that moral knowledge is as capable of real certainty as
mathematics. For certainty being but the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas,
and demonstration nothing but the perception of such agreement, by the intervention of other ideas
or mediums; our moral ideas, as well as mathematical, being archetypes themselves, and so
adequate and complete ideas; all the agreement or disagreement which we shall find in them will
produce real knowledge, as well as in mathematical figures.
8. Existence not required to make abstract knowledge real. For the attaining of knowledge and
certainty, it is requisite that we have determined ideas: and, to make our knowledge real, it is
requisite that the ideas answer their archetypes. Nor let it be wondered, that I place the certainty of
our knowledge in the consideration of our ideas, with so little care and regard (as it may seem) to
the real existence of things: since most of those discourses which take up the thoughts and engage
the disputes of those who pretend to make it their business to inquire after truth and certainty, will, I
presume, upon examination, be found to be general propositions, and notions in which existence is
not at all concerned. All the discourses of the mathematicians about the squaring of a circle, conic
sections, or any other part of mathematics, concern not the existence of any of those figures: but
their demonstrations, which depend on their ideas, are the same, whether there be any square or
circle existing in the world or no. In the same manner, the truth and certainty of moral discourses
abstracts from the lives of men, and the existence of those virtues in the world whereof they treat:
nor are Tully's Offices less true, because there is nobody in the world that exactly practises his
rules, and lives up to that pattern of a virtuous man which he has given us, and which existed
nowhere when he writ but in idea. If it be true in speculation, i.e., in idea, that murder deserves
death, it will also be true in reality of any action that exists conformable to that idea of murder. As for
other actions, the truth of that proposition concerns them not. And thus it is of all other species of
things, which have no other essences but those ideas which are in the minds of men.
9. Nor will it be less true or certain, because moral ideas are of our own making and naming. But it
will here be said, that if moral knowledge be placed in the contemplation of our own moral ideas,
and those, as other modes, be of our own making, What strange notions will there be of justice and
temperance? What confusion of virtues and vice, if every one may make what ideas of them he
pleases? No confusion or disorder in the things themselves, nor the reasonings about them; no
more than (in mathematics) there would be a disturbance in the demonstration, or a change in the
properties of figures, and their relations one to another, if a man should make a triangle with four
corners, or a trapezium with four right angles: that is, in plain English, change the names of the
figures, and call that by one name, which mathematicians call ordinarily by another. For, let a man
make to himself the idea of a figure with three angles, whereof one is a right one, and call it, if he
please, equilaterum or trapezium, or anything else; the properties of, and demonstrations about that
idea will be the same as if he called it a rectangular triangle. I confess the change of the name, by
the impropriety of speech, will at first disturb him who knows not what idea it stands for: but as soon
as the figure is drawn, the consequences and demonstrations are plain and clear. Just the same is it
in moral knowledge: let a man have the idea of taking from others, without their consent, what their
honest industry has possessed them of, and call this justice if he please. He that takes the name
here without the idea put to it will be mistaken, by joining another idea of his own to that name: but
strip the idea of that name, or take it such as it is in the speaker's mind, and the same things will
agree to it, as if you called it injustice. Indeed, wrong names in moral discourses breed usually more
disorder, because they are not so easily rectified as in mathematics, where the figure, once drawn
and seen, makes the name useless and of no force. For what need of a sign, when the thing
signified is present and in view? But in moral names, that cannot be so easily and shortly done,
because of the many decompositions that go to the making up the complex ideas of those modes.
But yet for all this, the miscalling of any of those ideas, contrary to the usual signification of the
words of that language, hinders not but that we may have certain and demonstrative knowledge of
their several agreements and disagreements, if we will carefully, as in mathematics, keep to the
same precise ideas, and trace them in their several relations one to another, without being led away
by their names. If we but separate the idea under consideration from the sign that stands for it, our
knowledge goes equally on in the discovery of real truth and certainty, whatever sounds we make
use of.
10. Misnaming disturbs not the certainty of the knowledge. One thing more we are to take notice of,
That where God or any other law-maker, hath defined any moral names, there they have made the
essence of that species to which that name belongs; and there it is not safe to apply or use them
otherwise: but in other cases it is bare impropriety of speech to apply them contrary to the common
usage of the country. But yet even this too disturbs not the certainty of that knowledge, which is still
to be had by a due contemplation and comparing of those even nicknamed ideas.
11. Our complex ideas of substances have their archetypes without us; and here knowledge comes
short. Thirdly, There is another sort of complex ideas, which, being referred to archetypes without
us, may differ from them, and so our knowledge about them may come short of being real. Such are
our ideas of substances, which, consisting of a collection of simple ideas, supposed taken from the
works of nature, may yet vary from them; by having more or different ideas united in them than are
to be found united in the things themselves. From whence it comes to pass, that they may, and
often do, fail of being exactly conformable to things themselves.
12. So far as our complex ideas agree with those archetypes without us, so far our knowledge
concerning substances is real. I say, then, that to have ideas of substances which, by being
conformable to things, may afford us real knowledge, it is not enough, as in modes, to put together
such ideas as have no inconsistence, though they did never before so exist: v.g. the ideas of
sacrilege or perjury, etc., were as real and true ideas before, as after the existence of any such fact.
But our ideas of substances, being supposed copies, and referred to archetypes without us, must
still be taken from something that does or has existed: they must not consist of ideas put together at
the pleasure of our thoughts, without any real pattern they were taken from, though we can perceive
no inconsistence in such a combination. The reason whereof is, because we, knowing not what real
constitution it is of substances whereon our simple ideas depend, and which really is the cause of
the strict union of some of them one with another, and the exclusion of others there are very few of
them that we can be sure are or are not inconsistent in nature, any further than experience and
sensible observation reach. Herein, therefore, is founded the reality of our knowledge concerning
substances--That all our complex ideas of them must be such, and such only, as are made up of
such simple ones as have been discovered to co-exist in nature. And our ideas being thus true,
though not perhaps very exact copies, are yet the subjects of real (as far as we have any)
knowledge of them. Which (as has been already shown) will not be found to reach very far: but so
far as it does, it will still be real knowledge. Whatever ideas we have, the agreement we find they
have with others will still be knowledge. If those ideas be abstract, it will be general knowledge. But
to make it real concerning substances, the ideas must be taken from the real existence of things.
Whatever simple ideas have been found to co-exist in any substance, these we may with
confidence join together again, and so make abstract ideas of substances. For whatever have once
had an union in nature, may be united again.
13. In our inquiries about substances, we must consider ideas, and not confine our thoughts to
names or species supposed set out by names. This, if we rightly consider, and confine not our
thoughts and abstract ideas to names, as if there were, or could be no other sorts of things than
what known names had already determined, and, as it were, set out, we should think of things with
greater freedom and less confusion than perhaps we do. It would possibly be thought a bold
paradox, if not a very dangerous falsehood, if I should say that some changelings, who have lived
forty years together, without any appearance of reason, are something between a man and a beast:
which prejudice is founded upon nothing else but a false supposition, that these two names, man
and beast, stand for distinct species so set out by real essences, that there can come no other
species between them: whereas if we will abstract from those names, and the supposition of such
specific essences made by nature, wherein all things of the same denominations did exactly and
equally partake; if we would not fancy that there were a certain number of these essences, wherein
all things, as in moulds, were cast and formed; we should find that the idea of the shape, motion,
and life of a man without reason, is as much a distinct idea, and makes as much a distinct sort of
things from man and beast, as the idea of the shape of an ass with reason would be different from
either that of man or beast, and be a species of an animal between, or distinct from both.
14. Objection against a changeling being something between a man and beast, answered. Here
everybody will be ready to ask, If changelings may be supposed something between man and
beast, pray what are they? I answer, changelings; which is as good a word to signify something
different from the signification of man or beast, as the names man and beast are to have
significations different one from the other. This, well considered, would resolve this matter, and
show my meaning without any more ado. But I am not so unacquainted with the zeal of some men,
which enables them to spin consequences, and to see religion threatened, whenever any one
ventures to quit their forms of speaking, as not to foresee what names such a proposition as this is
like to be charged with: and without doubt it will be asked, If changelings are something between
man and beast, what will become of them in the other world? To which I answer, I. It concerns me
not to know or inquire. To their own master they stand or fall. It will make their state neither better
nor worse, whether we determine anything of it or no. They are in the hands of a faithful Creator and
a bountiful Father, who disposes not of his creatures according to our narrow thoughts or opinions,
nor distinguishes them according to names and species of our contrivance. And we that know so
little of this present world we are in, may, I think, content ourselves without being peremptory in
defining the different states which creatures shall come into when they go off this stage. It may
suffice us, that He hath made known to al those who are capable of instruction, discoursing, and
reasoning, that they shall come to an account, and receive according to what they have done in this
body.
15. What will become of changelings in a future state? But, Secondly, I answer, The force of these
men's question (viz., Will you deprive changelings of a future state?) is founded on one of these two
suppositions, which are both false. The first is, That al things that have the outward shape and
appearance of a man must necessarily be designed to an immortal future being after this life: or,
secondly, That whatever is of human birth must be so. Take away these imaginations, and such
questions will be groundless and ridiculous. I desire then those who think there is no more but an
accidental difference between themselves and changelings, the essence in both being exactly the
same, to consider, whether they can imagine immortality annexed to any outward shape of the
body; the very proposing it is, I suppose, enough to make them disown it. No one yet, that ever I
heard of, how much soever immersed in matter, allowed that excellency to any figure of the gross
sensible outward parts, as to affirm eternal life due to it, or a necessary consequence of it; or that
any mass of matter should, after its dissolution here, be again restored hereafter to an everlasting
state of sense, perception, and knowledge, only because it was moulded into this or that figure, and
had such a particular frame of its visible parts. Such an opinion as this, placing immortality in a
certain superficial figure, turns out of doors all consideration of soul or spirit; upon whose account
alone some corporeal beings have hitherto been concluded immortal, and others not. This is to
attribute more to the outside than inside of things; and to place the excellency of a man more in the
external shape of his body, than internal perfections of his soul: which is but little better than to
annex the great and inestimable advantage of immortality and life everlasting, which he has above
other material beings, to annex it, I say, to the cut of his beard, or the fashion of his coat. For this or
that outward mark of our bodies no more carries with it the hope of an eternal duration, than the
fashion of a man's suit gives him reasonable grounds to imagine it will never wear out, or that it will
make him immortal. It will perhaps be said, that nobody thinks that the shape makes anything
immortal, but it is the shape is the sign of a rational soul within, which is immortal. I wonder who
made it the sign of any such thing: for barely saying it, will not make it so. It would require some
proofs to persuade one of it. No figure that I know speaks any such language. For it may as
rationally be concluded, that the dead body of a man, wherein there is to be found no more
appearance or action of life than there is in a statue, has yet nevertheless a living soul in it, because
of its shape; as that there is a rational soul in a changeling, because he has the outside of a rational
creature, when his actions carry far less marks of reason with them, in the whole course of his life,
than what are to be found in many a beast.
16. Monsters. But it is the issue of rational parents, and must therefore be concluded to have a
rational soul. I know not by what logic you must so conclude. I am sure this is a conclusion that men
nowhere allow of. For if they did, they would not make bold, as everywhere they do, to destroy ill-
formed and mis-shaped productions. Ay, but these are monsters. Let them be so: what will your
drivelling, unintelligent, intractable changeling be? Shall a defect in the body make a monster; a
defect in the mind (the far more noble, and, in the common phrase, the far more essential part) not?
Shall the want of a nose, or a neck, make a monster, and put such issue out of the rank of men; the
want of reason and understanding, not? This is to bring all back again to what was exploded just
now: this is to place all in the shape, and to take the measure of a man only by his outside. To show
that according to the ordinary way of reasoning in this matter, people do lay the whole stress on the
figure, and resolve the whole essence of the species of man (as they make it) into the outward
shape, how unreasonable soever it be, and how much soever they disown it, we need but trace their
thoughts and practice a little further, and then it will plainly appear. The well-shaped changeling is a
man, has a rational soul, though it appear not: this is past doubt, say you: make the ears a little
longer, and more pointed, and the nose a little flatter than ordinary, and then you begin to boggle:
make the face yet narrower, flatter, and longer, and then you are at a stand: add still more and more
of the likeness of a brute to it, and let the head be perfectly that of some other animal, then presently
it is a monster; and it is demonstration with you that it hath no rational soul, and must be destroyed.
Where now (I ask) shall be the just measure; which the utmost bounds of that shape, that carries
with it a rational soul? For, since there have been human foetuses produced, half beast and half
man; and others three parts one, and one part the other; and so it is possible they may be in all the
variety of approaches to the one or the other shape, and may have several degrees of mixture of the
likeness of a man, or a brute;--I would gladly know what are those precise lineaments, which,
according to this hypothesis, are or are not capable of a rational soul to be joined to them. What sort
of outside is the certain sign that there is or is not such an inhabitant within? For till that be done, we
talk at random of man: and shall always, I fear, do so, as long as we give ourselves up to certain
sounds, and the imaginations of settled and fixed species in nature, we know not what. But, after all,
I desire it may be considered, that those who think they have answered the difficulty, by telling us,
that a mis-shaped foetus is a monster, run into the same fault they are arguing against; by
constituting a species between man and beast. For what else, I pray, is their monster in the case, (if
the word monster signifies anything at all,) but something neither man nor beast, but partaking
somewhat of either? And just so is the changeling before mentioned. So necessary is it to quit the
common notion of species and essences, if we will truly look into the nature of