their ideas of hunger and thirst, and several other pains, they would
have found that THEY included in them no idea of extension at all, which
is but an affection of body, as well as the rest, discoverable by our
senses, which are scarce acute enough to look into the pure essences of
things.
26. Essences of Things.
If those ideas which are constantly joined to al others, must therefore
be concluded to be the essence of those things which have constantly
those ideas joined to them, and are inseparable from them; then unity is
without doubt the essence of everything. For there is not any object of
sensation or reflection which does not carry with it the idea of
one: but the weakness of this kind of argument we have already shown
sufficiently.
27. Ideas of Space and Solidity distinct.
To conclude: whatever men shall think concerning the existence of a
VACUUM, this is plain to me--that we have as clear an idea of space
distinct from solidity, as we have of solidity distinct from motion, or
motion from space. We have not any two more distinct ideas; and we can
as easily conceive space without solidity, as we can conceive body or
space without motion, though it be never so certain that neither body
nor motion can exist without space. But whether any one will take space
to be only a RELATION resulting from the existence of other beings at a
distance; or whether they wil think the words of the most knowing King
Solomon, 'The heaven, and the heaven of heavens, cannot contain thee;'
or those more emphatical ones of the inspired philosopher St. Paul,
'In him we live, move, and have our being,' are to be understood in a
literal sense, I leave every one to consider: only our idea of space is,
I think, such as I have mentioned, and distinct from that of body. For,
whether we consider, in matter itself, the distance of its coherent
solid parts, and call it, in respect of those solid parts, extension; or
whether, considering it as lying between the extremities of any body in
its several dimensions, we call it length, breadth, and thickness; or
else, considering it as lying between any two bodies or positive beings,
without any consideration whether there be any matter or not between, we
call it distance;--however named or considered, it is always the same
uniform simple idea of space, taken from objects about which our senses
have been conversant; whereof, having settled ideas in our minds, we can
revive, repeat, and add them one to another as often as we will, and
consider the space or distance so imagined, either as fil ed with solid
parts, so that another body cannot come there without displacing and
thrusting out the body that was there before; or else as void of
solidity, so that a body of equal dimensions to that empty or pure space
may be placed in it, without the removing or expulsion of anything that
was, there.
28. Men differ little in clear, simple ideas.
The knowing precisely what our words stand for, would, I imagine, in
this as wel as a great many other cases, quickly end the dispute. For
I am apt to think that men, when they come to examine them, find their
simple ideas al generally to agree, though in discourse with one
another they perhaps confound one another with different names. I
imagine that men who abstract their thoughts, and do wel examine the
ideas of their own minds, cannot much differ in thinking; however they
may perplex themselves with words, according to the way of speaking of
the several schools or sects they have been bred up in: though amongst
unthinking men, who examine not scrupulously and carefully their own
ideas, and strip them not from the marks men use for them, but confound
them with words, there must be endless dispute, wrangling, and jargon;
especial y if they be learned, bookish men, devoted to some sect, and
accustomed to the language of it, and have learned to talk after others.
But if it should happen that any two thinking men should really have
different ideas, I do not see how they could discourse or argue one
with another. Here I must not be mistaken, to think that every floating
imagination in men's brains is presently of that sort of ideas I speak
of. It is not easy for the mind to put off those confused notions
and prejudices it has imbibed from custom, inadvertency, and common
conversation. It requires pains and assiduity to examine its ideas, till
it resolves them into those clear and distinct simple ones, out of which
they are compounded; and to see which, amongst its simple ones, have or
have not a NECESSARY connexion and dependence one upon another. Till a
man doth this in the primary and original notions of things, he builds
upon floating and uncertain principles, and wil often find himself at a
loss.
CHAPTER XIV.
IDEA OF DURATION AND ITS SIMPLE MODES.
1. Duration is fleeting Extension.
There is another sort of distance, or length, the idea whereof we
get not from the permanent parts of space, but from the fleeting and
perpetually perishing parts of succession. This we cal DURATION; the
simple modes whereof are any different lengths of it whereof we have
distinct ideas, as HOURS, DAYS, YEARS, &c., TIME and ETERNITY.
2. Its Idea from Reflection on the Train of our Ideas.
The answer of a great man, to one who asked what time was: Si non rogas
intelligo, (which amounts to this; The more I set myself to think of it,
the less I understand it,) might perhaps persuade one that time, which
reveals al other things, is itself not to be discovered. Duration,
time, and eternity, are, not without reason, thought to have something
very abstruse in their nature. But however remote these may seem from
our comprehension, yet if we trace them right to their originals, I
doubt not but one of those sources of all our knowledge, viz. sensation
and reflection, will be able to furnish us with these ideas, as clear
and distinct as many others which are thought much less obscure; and we
shall find that the idea of eternity itself is derived from the same
common original with the rest of our ideas.
3. Nature and origin of the idea of Duration.
To understand TIME and ETERNITY aright, we ought with attention to
consider what idea it is we have of DURATION, and how we came by it. It
is evident to any one who wil but observe what passes in his own mind,
that there is a train of ideas which constantly succeed one another
in his understanding, as long as he is awake. Reflection on these
appearances of several ideas one after another in our minds, is that
which furnishes us with the idea of SUCCESSION: and the distance between
any parts of that succession, or between the appearance of any two ideas
in our minds, is that we cal DURATION. For whilst we are thinking, or
whilst we receive successively several ideas in our minds, we know that
we do exist; and so we call the existence, or the continuation of the
existence of ourselves, or anything else, commensurate to the succession
of any ideas in our minds, the duration of ourselves, or any such other
thing co-existent with our thinking.
4. Proof that its idea is got from reflection on the train of our ideas.
That we have our notion of succession and duration from this original,
viz. from reflection on the train of ideas, which we find to appear one
after another in our own minds, seems plain to me, in that we have no
perception of duration but by considering the train of ideas that take
their turns in our understandings. When that succession of ideas ceases,
our perception of duration ceases with it; which every one clearly
experiments in himself, whilst he sleeps soundly, whether an hour or a
day, a month or a year; of which duration of things, while he sleeps or
thinks not, he has no perception at all, but it is quite lost to him;
and the moment wherein he leaves off to think, till the moment he begins
to think again, seems to him to have no distance. And so I doubt not it
would be to a waking man, if it were possible for him to keep ONLY ONE
idea in his mind, without variation and the succession of others. And we
see, that one who fixes his thoughts very intently on one thing, so as
to take but little notice of the succession of ideas that pass in his
mind whilst he is taken up with that earnest contemplation, lets slip
out of his account a good part of that duration, and thinks that time
shorter than it is. But if sleep commonly unites the distant parts of
duration, it is because during that time we have no succession of ideas
in our minds. For if a man, during his sleep, dreams, and variety of
ideas make themselves perceptible in his mind one after another, he hath
then, during such dreaming, a sense of duration, and of the length of
it. By which it is to me very clear, that men derive their ideas of
duration from their reflections on the train of the ideas they observe
to succeed one another in their own understandings; without which
observation they can have no notion of duration, whatever may happen in
the world.
5. The Idea of Duration applicable to Things whilst we sleep.
Indeed a man having, from reflecting on the succession and number of
his own thoughts, got the notion or idea of duration, he can apply that
notion to things which exist while he does not think; as he that has got
the idea of extension from bodies by his sight or touch, can apply it to
distances, where no body is seen or felt. And therefore, though a man
has no perception of the length of duration which passed whilst he slept
or thought not; yet, having observed the revolution of days and nights,
and found the length of their duration to be in appearance regular
and constant, he can, upon the supposition that that revolution has
proceeded after the same manner whilst he was asleep or thought not, as
it used to do at other times, he can, I say, imagine and make al owance
for the length of duration whilst he slept. But if Adam and Eve, (when
they were alone in the world,) instead of their ordinary night's sleep,
had passed the whole twenty-four hours in one continued sleep, the
duration of that twenty-four hours had been irrecoverably lost to them,
and been for ever left out of their account of time.
6. The Idea of Succession not from Motion.
Thus by reflecting on the appearing of various ideas one after another
in our understandings, we get the notion of succession; which, if any
one should think we did rather get from our observation of motion by
our senses, he will perhaps be of my mind when he considers, that even
motion produces in his mind an idea of succession no otherwise than as
it produces there a continued train of distinguishable ideas. For a man
looking upon a body really moving, perceives yet no motion at all unless
that motion produces a constant train of successive ideas: v.g. a man
becalmed at sea, out of sight of land, in a fair day, may look on the
sun, or sea, or ship, a whole hour together, and perceive no motion at
al in either; though it be certain that two, and perhaps all of them,
have moved during that time a great way. But as soon as he perceives
either of them to have changed distance with some other body, as soon as
this motion produces any new idea in him, then he perceives that there
has been motion. But wherever a man is, with al things at rest about
him, without perceiving any motion at all,--if during this hour of quiet
he has been thinking, he wil perceive the various ideas of his own
thoughts in his own mind, appearing one after another, and thereby
observe and find succession where he could observe no motion.
7. Very slow motions unperceived.
And this, I think, is the reason why motions very slow, though they are
constant, are not perceived by us; because in their remove from one
sensible part towards another, their change of distance is so slow, that
it causes no new ideas in us, but a good while one after another. And
so not causing a constant train of new ideas to follow one another
immediately in our minds, we have no perception of motion; which
consisting in a constant succession, we cannot perceive that succession
without a constant succession of varying ideas arising from it.
8. Very swift motions unperceived.
On the contrary, things that move so swift as not to affect the senses
distinctly with several distinguishable distances of their motion, and
so cause not any train of ideas in the mind, are not also perceived.
For anything that moves round about in a circle, in less times than our
ideas are wont to succeed one another in our minds, is not perceived to
move; but seems to be a perfect entire circle of the matter or colour,
and not a part of a circle in motion.
9. The Train of Ideas has a certain Degree of Quickness.
Hence I leave it to others to judge, whether it be not probable that
our ideas do, whilst we are awake, succeed one another in our minds
at certain distances; not much unlike the images in the inside of a
lantern, turned round by the heat of a candle. This appearance of theirs
in train, though perhaps it may be sometimes faster and sometimes
slower, yet, I guess, varies not very much in a waking man: there seem
to be certain bounds to the quickness and slowness of the succession of
those ideas one to another in our minds, beyond which they can neither
delay nor hasten.
10. Real succession in swift motions without sense of succession.
The reason I have for this odd conjecture is, from observing that, in
the impressions made upon any of our senses, we can but to a certain
degree perceive any succession; which, if exceeding quick, the sense of
succession is lost, even in cases where it is evident that there is a
real succession. Let a cannon-bullet pass through a room, and in its way
take with it any limb, or fleshy parts of a man, it is as clear as any
demonstration can be, that it must strike successively the two sides of
the room: it is also evident, that it must touch one part of the flesh
first, and another after, and so in succession: and yet, I believe,
nobody who ever felt the pain of such a shot, or heard the blow against
the two distant walls, could perceive any succession either in the pain
or sound of so swift a stroke. Such a part of duration as this, wherein
we perceive no succession, is that which we call an INSTANT, and is
that which takes up the time of only one idea in our minds, without the
succession of another; wherein, therefore, we perceive no succession at
al .
11. In slow motions.
This also happens where the motion is so slow as not to supply a
constant train of fresh ideas to the senses, as fast as the mind is
capable of receiving new ones into it; and so other ideas of our own
thoughts, having room to come into our minds between those offered to
our senses by the moving body, there the sense of motion is lost; and
the body, though it really moves, yet, not changing perceivable distance
with some other bodies as fast as the ideas of our own minds do
naturally follow one another in train, the thing seems to stand still;
as is evident in the hands of clocks, and shadows of sun-dials, and
other constant but slow motions, where, though, after certain intervals,
we perceive, by the change of distance, that it hath moved, yet the
motion itself we perceive not.
12. This Train, the Measure of other Successions.
So that to me it seems, that the constant and regular succession of
IDEAS in a waking man, is, as it were, the measure and standard of all
other successions. Whereof if any one either exceeds the pace of our
ideas, as where two sounds or pains, &c., take up in their succession
the duration of but one idea; or else where any motion or succession is
so slow, as that it keeps not pace with the ideas in our minds, or the
quickness in which they take their turns, as when any one or more ideas
in their ordinary course come into our mind, between those which are
offered to the sight by the different perceptible distances of a body in
motion, or between sounds or smells following one another,--there also
the sense of a constant continued succession is lost, and we perceive it
not, but with certain gaps of rest between.
13. The Mind cannot fix long on one invariable Idea.
If it be so, that the ideas of our minds, whilst we have any there,
do constantly change and shift in a continual succession, it would be
impossible, may any one say, for a man to think long of any one thing.
By which, if it be meant that a man may have one self-same single idea a
long time alone in his mind, without any variation at all, I think, in
matter of fact, it is not possible. For which (not knowing how the ideas
of our minds are framed, of what materials they are made, whence they
have their light, and how they come to make their appearances) I can
give no other reason but experience: and I would have any one try,
whether he can keep one unvaried single idea in his mind, without any
other, for any considerable time together.
14. Proof.
For trial, let him take any figure, any degree of light or whiteness, or
what other he pleases, and he wil , I suppose, find it difficult to keep
al other ideas out of his mind; but that some, either of another kind,
or various considerations of that idea, (each of which considerations is
a new idea,) will constantly succeed one another in his thoughts, let
him be as wary as he can.
15. The extent of our power over the succession of our ideas.
Al that is in a man's power in this case, I think, is only to mind and
observe what the ideas are that take their turns in his understanding;
or else to direct the sort, and call in such as he hath a desire or use
of: but hinder the constant succession of fresh ones, I think he cannot,
though he may commonly choose whether he will heedfully observe and
consider them.
16. Ideas, however made, include no sense of motion.
Whether these several ideas in a man's mind be made by certain motions,
I wil not here dispute; but this I am sure, that they include no idea
of motion in their appearance; and if a man had not the idea of motion
otherwise, I think he would have none at all, which is enough to my
present purpose; and sufficiently shows that the notice we take of the
ideas of our own minds, appearing there one after another, is that which
gives us the idea of succession and duration, without which we should
have no such ideas at al . It is not then MOTION, but the constant train
of IDEAS in our minds whilst we are waking, that furnishes us with the
idea of duration; whereof motion no otherwise gives us any perception
than as it causes in our minds a constant succession of ideas, as I have
before showed: and we have as clear an idea of succession and duration,
by the train of other ideas succeeding one another in our minds,
without the idea of any motion, as by the train of ideas caused by the
uninterrupted sensible change of distance between two bodies, which
we have from motion; and therefore we should as wel have the idea of
duration were there no sense of motion at al .
17. Time is Duration set out by Measures.
Having thus got the idea of duration, the next thing natural for the
mind to do, is to get some measure of this common duration, whereby it
might judge of its different lengths, and consider the distinct order
wherein several things exist; without which a great part of our
knowledge would be confused, and a great part of history be rendered
very useless. This consideration of duration, as set out by certain
periods and marked by certain measures or epochs, is that, I think,
which most properly we cal TIME.
18. A good Measure of Time must divide its whole Duration into equal
Periods.
In the measuring of extension, there is nothing more required but the
application of the standard or measure we make use of to the thing of
whose extension we would be informed. But in the measuring of duration
this cannot be done, because no two different parts of succession can
be put together to measure one another. And nothing being a measure of
duration but duration, as nothing is of extension but extension, we
cannot keep by us any standing, unvarying measure of duration, which
consists in a constant fleeting succession, as we can of certain lengths
of extension, as inches, feet, yards, &c., marked out in permanent
parcels of matter. Nothing then could serve well for a convenient
measure of time, but what has divided the whole length of its duration
into apparently equal portions, by constantly repeated periods.
What portions of duration are not distinguished, or considered as
distinguished and measured, by such periods, come not so properly under
the notion of time; as appears by such phrases as these, viz. 'Before
al time,' and 'When time shall be no more.'
19. The Revolutions of the Sun and Moon, the properest Measures of Time
for mankind.
The diurnal and annual revolutions of the sun, as having been, from the
beginning of nature, constant, regular, and universally observable by
al mankind, and supposed equal to one another, have been with reason
made use of for the measure of duration. But the distinction of days
and years having depended on the motion of the sun, it has brought this
mistake with it, that it has been thought that motion and duration were
the measure one of another. For men, in the measuring of the length
of time, having been accustomed to the ideas of minutes, hours, days,
months, years, &c., which they found themselves upon any mention of
time or duration presently to think on, all which portions of time were
measured out by the motion of those heavenly bodies, they were apt to
confound time and motion; or at least to think that they had a necessary
connexion one with another. Whereas any constant periodical appearance,
or alteration of ideas, in seemingly equidistant spaces of duration, if
constant and universally observable, would have as wel distinguished
the intervals of time, as those that have been made use of. For,
supposing the sun, which some have taken to be a fire, had been lighted
up at the same distance of time that it now every day comes about to the
same meridian, and then gone out again about twelve hours after, and
that in the space of an annual revolution it had sensibly increased in
brightness and heat, and so decreased again,--would not such regular
appearances serve to measure out the distances of duration to al that
could observe it, as well without as with motion? For if the appearances
were constant, universally observable, in equidistant periods, they
would serve mankind for measure of time as well were the motion away.
20. But not by their Motion, but periodical Appearances.
For the freezing of water, or the blowing of a plant, returning at
equidistant periods in al parts of the earth, would as wel serve men
to reckon their years by, as the motions of the sun: and in effect we
see, that some people in America counted their years by the coming of
certain birds amongst them at their certain seasons, and leaving them at
others. For a fit of an ague; the sense of hunger or thirst; a smell or
a taste; or any other idea returning constantly at equidistant periods,
and making itself universally be taken notice of, would not fail to
measure out the course of succession, and distinguish the distances of
time. Thus we see that men born blind count time well enough by years,
whose revolutions yet they cannot distinguish by motions that they
perceive not. And I ask whether a blind man, who distinguished his years
either by the heat of summer, or cold of winter; by the smell of any
flower of the spring, or taste of any fruit of the autumn, would not
have a better measure of time than the Romans had before the reformation
of their calendar by Julius Caesar, or many other people, whose years,
notwithstanding the motion of the sun, which they pretended to make use
of, ar