Təbii hüquq və Siyasətin əsas elementləri-Thomas Hobbes
Part I
Human Nature
Chapter 1
The General Division of Man's Natural Faculties
1. The true and perspicuous explication of the Elements of
Laws, Natural and Politic, which is my present scope, dependeth
upon the knowledge of what is human nature, what is a body
politic, and what it is we call a law. Concerning which points,
as the writings of men from antiquity downward have still
increased, so also have the doubts and controversies concerning
the same, and seeing that true knowledge begetteth not doubt, nor
controversy, but knowledge; it is manifest from the present
controversies, that they which have heretofore written thereof,
have not well understood their own subject.
2. Harm I can do none though I err no less than they. For I
shall leave men but as they are in doubt and dispute. But
intending not to take any principle upon trust, but only to put
men in mind what they know already, or may know by their own
experience, I hope to err the less; and when I do, it must
proceed from too hasty concluding, which I will endeavour as much
as I can to avoid.
3. On the other side, if reasoning aright I win not consent
(which may very easily happen) from them that being confident of
their own knowledge weigh not what is said, the fault is not mine
but theirs. For as it is my part to show my reasons, so it is
theirs to bring attention.
4. Man's nature is the sum of his natural faculties and
powers, as the faculties of nutrition, motion, generation, sense,
reason, &c. For these powers we do unanimously call natural, and
are contained in the definition of man, under these words, animal
and rational.
5. According to the two principal parts of man, I divide his
faculties into two sorts, faculties of the body, and faculties of
the mind.
6. Since the minute and distinct anatomy of the powers of the
body is nothing necessary to the present purpose, I will only sum
them up into these three heads, power nutritive, power motive,
and power generative.
7. Of the powers of the mind there be two sorts, cognitive or
imaginative or conceptive; and motive. And first of the
cognitive.
8. For the understanding of what I mean by the power
cognitive, we must remember and acknowledge that there be in our
minds continually certain images or conceptions of the things
without us, insomuch that if a man could be alive, and all the
rest of the world annihilated, he should nevertheless retain the
image thereof, and of all those things which he had before seen
and perceived in it; every man by his own experience knowing that
the absence or destruction of things once imagined, doth not
cause the absence or destruction of the imagination itself. This
imagery and representations of the qualities of things without us
is that we call our cognition, imagination, ideas, notice,
conception, or knowledge of them. And the faculty, or power, by
which we are capable of such knowledge, is that I here call power
cognitive, or conceptive, the power of knowing or conceiving.
Chapter 2
The Cause of Sense
1. Having declared what I mean by the word conception, and
other words equivalent thereunto, I come to the conceptions
themselves, to show their difference, their causes, and the
manner of their production as far as is necessary for this place.
2. Originally all conceptions proceed from the actions of the
thing itself, whereof it is the conception. Now when the action
is present, the conception it produceth is called SENSE, and the
thing by whose action the same is produced is called the OBJECT
of sense.
3. By our several organs we have several conceptions of
several qualities in the objects; for by sight we have a
conception or image composed of colour or figure, which is all
the notice and knowledge the object imparteth to us of its nature
by the eye. By hearing we have a conception called sound, which
is all the knowledge we have of the quality of the object from
the ear. And so the rest of the senses also are conceptions of
several qualities, or natures of their objects.
4. Because the image in vision consisting in colour and shape
is the knowledge we have of the qualities of the object of that
sense; it is no hard matter for a man to fall into this opinion,
that the same colour and shape are the very qualities themselves;
and for the same cause, that sound and noise are the qualities of
the bell, or of the air. And this opinion hath been so long
received, that the contrary must needs appear a great paradox;
and yet the introduction of species visible and intelligible
(which is necessary for the maintenance of that opinion) passing
to and fro from the object, is worse than any paradox, as being a
plain impossibility. I shall therefore endeavour to make plain
these four points:
(1) That the subject wherein colour and image are inherent,
is not the object or thing seen.
(2) That that is nothing without us really which we call an
image or colour.
(3) That the said image or colour is but an apparition unto
us of that motion, agitation, or alteration, which the object
worketh in the brain or spirits, or some internal substance of
the head.
(4) That as in conception by vision, so also in the
conceptions that arise from other senses, the subject of their
inherence is not the object, but the sentient.
5. Every man hath so much experience as to have seen the sun
and other visible objects by reJection in the water and in
glasses, and this alone is sufficient for this conclusion: that
colour and image may be there where the thing seen is not. But
because it may be said that notwithstanding the image in the
water be not in the object, but a thing merely phantastical, yet
there may be colour really in the thing itself; I will urge
further this experience: that divers times men see directly the
same object double, as two candles for one, which may happen by
distemper, or otherwise without distemper if a man will, the
organs being either in their right temper, or equally
distempered. The colours and figures in two such images of the
same thing cannot be inherent both therein, because the thing
seen cannot be in two places: one of these images thereof is not
inherent in the object. But seeing the organs of sight are then
in equal temper or equal distemper, the one of them is no more
inherent than the other, and consequently neither of them both
are in the object; which is the first proposition mentioned in
the precedent section.
6. Secondly, that the image of any thing seen by reJection in
glass or water or the like, is not any thing in or behind the
glass, or in or under the water, every man may prove to himself;
which is the second proposition.
7. For the third, we are to consider first, that upon every
great agitation or concussion of the brain, as it happeneth from
a stroke, especially if the stroke be upon the eye, whereby the
optic nerve suffereth any great violence, there appeareth before
the eyes a certain light, which light is nothing without, but an
apparition only, all that is real being the concussion or motion
of the parts of that nerve. From which experience we may
conclude, that apparition of light without, is really nothing but
motion within. If therefore from lucid bodies there can be
derived motion, so as to affect the optic nerve in such manner as
is proper thereunto, there will follow an image of light
somewhere in that line by which the motion was last derived unto
the eye; that is to say, in the object, if we look directly on
it, and in the glass or water, when we look upon it in the line
of reJection, which in effect is the third proposition, namely,
That image and colour is but an apparition unto us of that
motion, agitation, or alteration, which the object worketh in the
brain, or spirits, or some internal substance in the head.
8. But that from all lucid, shining and illuminated bodies,
there is a motion produced to the eye, and, through the eye, to
the optic nerve, and so into the brain, by which that apparition
of light or colour is effected, is not hard to prove. And first,
it is evident that the fire, the only lucid body here on earth,
worketh by motion equally every way; insomuch as the motion
thereof stopped or inclosed, it is presently extinguished, and no
more fire. And farther, that that motion, whereby the fire
worketh, is dilatation, and contraction of itself alternately,
commonly called scintillation or glowing, is manifest also by
experience. From such motion in the fire must needs arise a
rejection or casting from itself of that part of the medium which
is contiguous to it, whereby that part also rejecteth the next,
and so successively one part beateth back the other to the very
eye; and in the same manner the exterior part of the eye (the
laws of refraction still observed) presseth the interior. Now the
interior coat of the eye is nothing else but a piece of the optic
nerve, and therefore the motion is still continued thereby into
the brain, and by resistance or reaction of the brain, is also a
rebound in the optic nerve again, which we not conceiving as
motion or rebound from within, think it is without, and call it
light; as hath been already shewed by the experience of a stroke.
We have no reason to doubt, that the fountain of light, the sun,
worketh any other wise than the fire, at least in this matter,
and thus all vision hath its original from such motion as is here
described. For where there is no light, there is no sight; and
therefore colour also must be the same thing with light, as being
the effect of lucid bodies: their difference being only this,
that when the light cometh directly from the fountain to the eye,
or indirectly by reflection from clean and polite bodies, and
such as have no particular motion internal to alter it, we call
it light. But when it cometh to the eyes by reflection from
uneven, rough, and coarse bodies, or such as are affected with
internal motion of their own, that may alter it, then we call it
colour; colour and light differing only in this, that the one is
pure, the other a perturbed light. By that which hath been said,
not only the truth of the third proposition, but also the whole
manner of producing light and colour, is apparent.
9. As colour is not inherent in the object, but an effect
thereof upon us, caused by such motion in the object, as hath
been described: so neither is sound in the thing we hear, but in
ourselves. One manifest sign thereof is: that as a man may see,
so also he may hear double or treble, by multiplication of
echoes, which echoes are sounds as well as the original; and not
being in one and the same place, cannot be inherent in the body
that maketh them. Nothing can make any thing in itself: the
clapper hath not sound in it, but motion, and maketh motion in
the internal parts of the bell so the bell hath motion, and not
sound. That imparteth motion to the air; and the air hath motion,
but not sound. The air imparteth motion by the ear and nerves to
the brain; and the brain hath motion but not sound. From the
brain it reboundeth back into the nerves outward, and thence it
becometh an apparition without, which we call sound. And to
proceed to the rest of the senses, it is apparent enough, that
the smell and taste of the same thing, are not the same to every
man, and therefore are not in the thing smelt or tasted, but in
the men. So likewise the heat we feel from the fire is manifestly
in us, and is quite different from the heat that is in the fire.
For our heat is pleasure or pain, according as it is extreme or
moderate; but in the coal there is no such thing. By this the
fourth and last of the propositions is proved (viz.) That as in
conception by vision, so also in the conceptions that arise from
other senses, the subject of their inherence is not the object,
but the sentient.
10. And from thence also it followeth, that whatsoever
accidents or qualities our senses make us think there be in the
world, they are not there, but are seemings and apparitions only.
The things that really are in the world without us, are those
motions by which these seemings are caused. And this is the great
deception of sense, which also is by sense to be corrected. For
as sense telleth me, when I see directly, that the colour seemeth
to be in the object; so also sense telleth me, when I see by
reflection, that colour is not in the object.
Chapter 3
Of Imagination and the Kinds Thereof
1. As standing water put into motion by the stroke of a
stone, or blast of wind, doth not presently give over moving as
soon as the wind ceaseth, or the stone settleth: so neither doth
the effect cease which the object hath wrought upon the brain, so
soon as ever by turning aside of the organ the object ceaseth to
work; that is to say, though the sense be past, the image or
conception remaineth; but more obscurely while we are awake,
because some object or other continually plieth and soliciteth
our eyes, and ears, keeping the mind in a stronger motion,
whereby the weaker doth not easily appear. And this obscure
conception is that we call PHANTASY or IMAGINATION: imagination
being (to define it) conception remaining, and by little and
little decaying from and after the act of sense.
2. But when present sense is not, as in SLEEP, there the
images remaining after sense (when there be any) as in dreams,
are not obscure, but strong and clear, as in sense itself. The
reason. iS, because that which obscured and made the conceptions
weak, namely sense, and present operation of the objects, is
removed. For sleep is the privation of the act of sense, (the
power remaining) and dreams are the imaginations of them that
sleep.
3. The causes of DREAMS (if they be natural) are the actions
or violence of the inward parts of a man upon his brain, by which
the passages of sense, by sleep benumbed, are restored to their
motion. The signs by which this appeareth to be so, are the
differences of dreams proceeding from the different accidents of
man's body. Old men being commonly less healthful and less free
from inward pains, are thereby more subject to dreams, especially
such dreams as be painful: as dreams of lust, or dreams of anger,
according as the heart, or other parts within, work more or less
upon the brain, by more or less heat. So also the descent of
different sorts of phlegm maketh one to dream of different tastes
of meats or drinks. And I believe there is a reciprocation of
motion from the brain to the vital parts, and back from the vital
parts to the brain; whereby not only imagination begetteth motion
in those parts; but also motion in those parts begetteth
imagination like to that by which it was begotten. If this be
true, and that sad imaginations nourish the spleen, then we see
also a cause, why a strong spleen reciprocally causeth fearful
dreams. And why the effects of lasciviousness may in a dream
produce the image of some person that hath caused them. If it
were well observed, whether the image of the person in a dream be
as obedient to the accidental heat of him that dreameth, as
waking his heat is to the person, and if so, then is such motion
reciprocal. Another sign that dreams are caused by the action of
the inward parts, is the disorder and casual consequence of one
conception or image to another: for when we are waking, the
antecedent thought or conception introduceth, and is cause of the
consequent, as the water followeth a man's finger upon a dry and
level table. But in dreams there is commonly no coherence (and
when there is, it is by chance), which must proceed from this,
that the brain in dreams is not restored to its motion in every
part alike; whereby it cometh to pass, that our thoughts appear
like the stars between the flying clouds, not in the order which
a man would choose to observe them in, but as the uncertain
flight of broken clouds permit.
4. As when the water, or any liquid thing moved at once by
divers movements, receiveth one motion compounded of them all; so
also the brain or spirits therein, having been stirred by divers
objects, composeth an imagination of divers conceptions that
appeared. singly to the sense. As for example, the sense sheweth
us at one time the figure of a mountain, and at another time the
colour of gold; but the imagination afterwards hath them both at
once in a golden mountain. From the same cause it is, there
appear unto us castles in the air, chimeras, and other monsters
which are not in rerum natura, but have been conceived by the
sense in pieces at several times. And this composition is that
which we commonly call FICTION of the mind.
5. There is yet another kind of. imagination, which for
clearness contendeth with sense, as well as a dream; and that is,
when the action of sense hath been long or vehement: and the
experience thereof is more frequent in the sense of seeing, than
the rest. An example whereof is, the image remaining before the
eye after a steadfast looking upon the sun. Also, those little
images that appear before the eyes in the dark (whereof I think
every man hath experience, but they most of all, that are
timorous or superstitious) are examples of the same. And these,
for distinction sake, may be called PHANTASMS.
6. By the senses (which are numbered according to the organs
to be five) we take notice (as hath been said already) of the
objects without us; and that notice is our conception thereof:
but we take notice also some way or other of our conceptions. For
when the conception of the same thing cometh again, we take
notice that it is again; that is to say, that we have had the
same conception before; which is as much as to imagine a thing
past; which is impossible to sense, which is only of things
present. This therefore may be accounted a sixth sense, but
internal, not external, as the rest, and is commonly called
REMEMBRANCE.
7. For the manner by which we take notice of a conception
past, we are to remember, that in the definition of imagination,
it is said to be a conception by little and little decaying, or
growing more obscure. An obscure conception is that which
representeth the whole object together, but none of the smaller
parts by themselves; and as more or fewer parts be represented,
so is the conception or representation said to be more or less
clear. Seeing then the conception, which when it was first
produced by sense, was clear, and represented the parts of the
object distinctly; and when it cometh again is obscure, we find
missing somewhat that we expected; by which we judge it past and
decayed. For example, a man that is present in a foreign city,
seeth not only whole streets, but can also distinguish particular
houses, and parts of houses; departed thence, he cannot
distinguish them so particularly in his mind as he did, some
house or turning escaping him; yet is this to remember the city;
when afterwards there escapeth him more particulars, this is also
to remember, but not so well. In process of time, the image of
the city returneth, but as of a mass of building only, which is
almost to have forgotten it. Seeing then remembrance is more or
less, as we find more or less obscurity, why may not we well
think remembrance to be nothing else but the missing of parts,
which every man expecteth should succeed after they have a
conception of the whole? To see at great distance of place, and
to remember at great distance of time, is to have like
conceptions of the thing: for there wanteth distinction of parts
in both; the one conception being weak by operation at distance,
the other by decay.
8. And from this that hath been said, there followeth, that a
man can never know he dreameth; he may dream he doubteth, whether
it be a DREAM or no: but the clearness of the imagination
representeth every thing with as many parts as doth sense itself,
and consequently, he can take notice of nothing but as present;
whereas to think he dreameth, is to think those his conceptions
past, that is to say, obscurer than they were in the sense: so
that he must think them both as clear, and not as clear as sense;
which is impossible.
9. From the same ground it proceedeth, that men wonder not in
their dreams at places and persons, as they would do waking: for
waking, a man would think it strange to be in a place wherein he
never was before, and remember nothing of how he came there. But
in a dream, there cometh little of that kind into consideration.
The clearness of conception in a dream, taketh away distrust,
unless the strangeness be excessive, as to think himself fallen
from on high without hurt, and then most commonly he awaketh.
10. Nor is it impossible for a man to be so far deceived, as
when his dream is past, to think it real: for if he dream of such
things as are ordinarily in his mind,. and in such order as he
useth to do waking, and withal that he laid him down to sleep in
the place where he findeth himself when he awaketh (all which may
happen) I know no Kritirion or mark by which he can discern
whether it were a dream or not, and do therefore the less wonder
to hear a man sometimes to tell his dream for a truth, or to take
it for a vision.
Chapter 4
Of the Several Kinds of Discursion of the Mind
1. The succession of conceptions in the mind, their series or
consequence of one after another, may be casual and incoherent,
as in dreams for the most part; and it may be orderly, as when
the former thought introduceth the latter; and this is discourse
of the mind. But because the word discourse is commonly taken for
the coherence and consequence of words, I will (to avoid
equivocation) call it DISCURSION.
2. The cause of the coherence or consequence of one
conception to another, is their first coherence, or consequence
at that time when they were produced by sense. As for example:
from St. Andrew the mind runneth to St. Peter, because their
names are read together; from St. Peter to a stone, for the same
cause; from stone to foundation, because we see them together;
and for the same cause, from foundation to church, from church to
people, and from people to tumult. And according to this example,
the mind may run almost from any thing to any thing. But as to
the sense the conception of cause and effect succeed one another.
so may they after sense in the imagination. And for the most part
they do so. The cause whereof is the appetite of them, who,
having a conception of the end, have next unto it a conception of
the next means to that end. As when a man, from the thought of
honour to which he hath an appetite, cometh to the thought of
wisdom, which is the next means thereto; and from thence to the
thought of study, which is the next means to wisdom, etc.
3. To omit that kind of discursion by which we proceed from
any thing to any thing, there are of the other kind divers sorts.
As first in the senses: there are certain coherences of
conceptions, which we may call RANGING. Examples whereof are: a
man's casting his eye upon the ground, to look about for some
small thing lost; the hounds casting about at a fault in hunting;
and the ranging of spaniels. And herein we take a beginning
arbitrarily.
4. Another sort of discursion is, when the appetite giveth a
man his beginning, as in the example before adduced: where
honour, to which a man hath appetite, maketh him to think upon
the next means of attaining it, and that again of the next, &c.
And this the Latins call sagacitas, SAGACITY, and we may call it
hunting or tracing, as dogs trace the beast by the smell, and men
hunt them by their footsteps; or as men hunt after riches, place,
or knowledge.
5. There is yet another kind of discursion beginning with
appetite to recover something lost, proceeding from the present
backward, from the thought of the place where we miss it, to the
thought of the place from whence we came last; and from the
thought of that, to the thought of a place before, till we have
in our mind some place, wherein we had the thing we miss: and
this is called REMINISCENCE.
6. The remembrance of the succession of one thing to another,
that is, of what was antecedent, and what consequent, and what
concomitant, is called an EXPERIMENT; whether the same be made by
us voluntarily, as when a man putteth any thing into the fire, to
see what effect the fire will produce upon it; or not made by us,
as when we remember a fair morning after a red evening. To have
had many experiments, is that we call EXPERIENCE, which is
nothing else but remembrance of what antecedents have been
followed with what consequents.
7. No man can have in his mind a conception of the future,
for the future is not yet. But of our conceptions of the past, we
make a future; or rather, call past, future relatively. Thus
after a man hath been accustomed to see like antecedents followed
by like consequents, whensoever he seeth the like come to pass to
any thing he had seen before, he looks there should follow it the
same that followed then. As for example: because a man hath often
seen offences followed by punishment, when he seeth an offence in
present, he thinketh punishment to be consequent thereto. But
consequent unto that which is present, men call future. And thus
we make remembrance to be prevision or conjecture of things to
come, or EXPECTATION or PRESUMPTION of the future.
8. In the same manner, if a man seeth in present that which
he hath seen before, he thinks that that which was antecedent to
what he saw before, is also antecedent to that he presently
seeth. As for example: he that hath seen the ashes remain after
the fire, and now again seeth ashes, concludeth again there hath
been fire. And this is called CONJECTURE of the past, or
presumption of fact.
9. When a man hath so often observed like antecedents to be
followed by like consequents, that whensoever he seeth the
antecedent, he looketh again for the consequent; or when he seeth
the consequent, he maketh account there hath been the like
antecedent; then he calleth both the antecedent and the
consequent, SIGNS one of another, as clouds are a sign of rain to
come, and rain of clouds past.
10. This taking of signs from experience, is that wherein men
do ordinarily think, the difference stands between man and man in
wisdom, by which they commonly understand a man's whole ability
or power cognitive. But this is an error; for these signs are but
conjectural; and according as they have often or seldom failed,
so their assurance is more or less; but never full and evident;
for though a man hath always seen the day and night to follow one
another hitherto; yet can he not thence conclude they shall do
so, or that they have done so eternally. Experience concludeth
nothing universally. If the signs hit twenty times for once
missing, a man may lay a wager of twenty to one of the event; but
may not conclude it for a truth. But by this it is plain, that
they shall conjecture best, that have most experience: because
they have most signs to conjecture by; which is the reason that
old men are more prudent, that is, conjecture better, caeteris
paribus, than young. For, being older, they remember more; and
experience is but remembrance. And men of quick imagination,
caeteris paribus, are more prudent than those whose imaginations
are slow: for they observe more in less time. And PRUDENCE is
nothing else but conjecture from experience, or taking signs of
experience warily, that is, that the experiments from which one
taketh such signs be all remembered; for else the cases are not
alike, that seem so.
11. As in conjectural things concerning past and future, it
is prudence to conclude from experience, what is likely to come
to pass, or to have passed already; so is it an error to conclude
from it, that is so or so called. That is to say, we cannot from
experience conclude, that any thing is to be called just or
unjust, true or false, nor any proposition universal whatsoever,
except it be from remembrance of the use of names imposed
arbitrarily by men. For example: to have heard a sentence given
(in the like case the like sentence a thousand times) is not
enough to conclude that the sentence is just (though most men
have no other means to conclude by); but it is necessary, for the
drawing of such conclusion, to trace and find out, by many
experiences, what men do mean by calling things just and unjust,
and the like. Farther, there is another caveat to be taken in
concluding by experience, from the tenth section of the second
chapter., that is, that we conclude not such things to be
without, that are within us.
Chapter 5
Of Names, Reasoning, and Discourse of the Tongue
1. Seeing the succession of conceptions in the mind are
caused (as hath been said before) by the succession they had one
to another when they were produced by the senses; and that there
is no conception that hath not been produced immediately before
or after innumerable others, by the innumerable acts of sense; it
must needs follow, that one conception followeth not another,
according to our election, and the need we have of them, but as
it chanceth us to hear or see such things as shall bring them to
our mind. The experience we have hereof, is in such brute beasts,
which, having the providence to hide the remains and superfluity
of their meat, do nevertheless want the remembrance of the place
where they hid it, and thereby make no benefit thereof in their
hunger. But man, who in this point beginneth to advance himself
above the nature of beasts, hath observed and remembered the
cause of this defect, and to amend the same, hath imagined and
devised to set up a visible or other sensible mark, the which
when he seeth again, may bring to his mind the thought he had
when he set it up. A MARK therefore is a sensible object which a
man erecteth voluntarily to himself, to the end to remember
thereby somewhat past, when the same is objected to his sense
again. As men that have passed by a rock at sea, set up some
mark, whereby to remember their former danger, and avoid it.
2. In the number of these marks, are those human voices
(which we call the names or appellations of things) sensible to
the ear, by which we recall into our mind some conceptions of the
things to which we give those names or appellations. As the
appellation white bringeth to remembrance the quality of such
objects as produce that colour or conception in us. A NAME or
APPELLATION therefore is the voice of a man, arbitrarily imposed,
for a mark to bring to his mind some conception concerning the
thing on which it is imposed.
3. Things named, are either the objects themselves, as man;
or the conception itself that we have of man, as shape or motion;
or some privation, which is when we conceive that there is
something which we conceive, not in him. As when we conceive he
is not just, not finite, we give him the name of unjust and
infinite, which signify privation or defect either in the thing
named, or in us that give the name. And to the privations
themselves we give the names injustice and infiniteness. So that
here be two sorts of names: one of things, in which we conceive
something, or of the conceptions themselves, which are called
POSITIVE; the other of things wherein we conceive privation or
defect, and those names are called PRIVATIVE.
4. By the advantage of names it is that we are capable of
science, which beasts, for want of them, are not; nor man,
without the use of them: for as a beast misseth not one or two
out of her many young ones, for want of those names of order,
one, two, three, &c., which we call number; so neither would a
man, without repeating orally, or mentally, the words of number,
know how many pieces of money or other things lie before him.
5. Seeing there be many conceptions of one and the same
thing, and for every several conception we give it a several
name; it followeth that for one and the same thing, we have many
names or attributes; as to the same man we give the appellations
of just, valiant, &c., for divers virtues, and of strong, comely,
&c., for divers qualities of the body. And again, because from
divers things we receive like conceptions, many things must needs
have the same appellation. As to all things we see, we give the
same name of visible; and to all things we see moved, we give the
appellation of moveable. And those names we give to many, are
called UNIVERSAL to them all; as the name man to every particular
of mankind: such appellations as we give to one only thing, are
called individual, or SINGULAR; as Socrates, and other proper
names; or, by circumlocution, as: he that writ the Iliad, for
Homer.
6. This universality of one name to many things, hath been
the cause that men think that the things themselves are
universal. And do seriously contend, that besides Peter and John,
and all the rest of the men that are, have been, or shall be in
the world, there is yet somewhat else that we call man, (viz.)
man in general, deceiving themselves by taking the universal, or
general appellation, for the thing it signifieth. For if one
should desire the painter to make him the picture of a man, which
is as much as to say, of a man in general; he meaneth no more,
but that the painter shall choose what man he pleaseth to draw,
which must needs be some of them that are, have been, or may be,
none of which are universal. But when he would have him to draw
the picture of the king, or any particular person, he limiteth
the painter to that one person himself chooseth. It is plain
therefore, that there is nothing universal but names; which are
therefore also called indefinite; because we limit them not
ourselves, but leave them to be applied by the hearer: whereas a
singular name is limited or restrained to one of the many things
it signifieth; as when we say, this man, pointing to him, or
giving him his proper name, or by some such other way.
7. The appellations that be universal, and common to many
things, are not always given to all the particulars, (as they
ought to be) for like conceptions and considerations in them all;
which is the cause that many of them are not of constant
signification, but bring into our minds other thoughts than those
for which they were ordained. And these are called EQUIVOCAL. As
for example, the word faith sometimes signifieth the same with
belief; sometimes it signifieth particularly that belief which
maketh a Christian; and sometimes it signifieth the keeping of a
promise. Also all metaphors are (by profession) equivocal. And
there is scarce any word that is not made equivocal by divers
contextures of speech, or by diversity of pronunciation and
gesture.
8. This equivocation of names maketh it difficult to recover
those conceptions for which the name was ordained; and that not
only in the language of other men, wherein we are to consider the
drift, and occasion, and contexture of the speech, as well as the
words themselves; but also in our own discourse, which being
derived from the custom and common use of speech, representeth
not unto us our own conceptions. It is therefore a great ability
in a man, out of the words, contexture, and other circumstances
of language, to deliver himself from equivocation, and to find
out the true meaning of what is said: and this is it we call
UNDERSTANDING.
9. Of two appellations, by the help of this little verb is,
or something equivalent, we make an AFFIRMATION or NEGATION,
either of which in the Schools we call also a proposition, and
consisteth of two appellations joined together by the said verb
is: as for example, this is a proposition: man is a living
creature; or this: man is not righteous; whereof the former is
called an affirmation, because the appellation living creature is
positive; the latter a negation, because not righteous is
privative.
10. In every proposition, be it affirmative or negative, the
latter appellation either comprehendeth the former, as in this
proposition, charity is a virtue, the name of virtue
comprehendeth the name of charity (and many other virtues
besides), and then is the proposition said to be TRUE or TRUTH:
for, truth, and a true proposition, is all one. Or else the
latter appellation comprehendeth not the former; as in this
proposition, every man is just, the name of just comprehendeth
not every man; for unjust is the name of the far greater part of
men. And then the proposition is said to be FALSE, or falsity:
falsity and a false proposition being the same thing.
11. In what manner of two propositions, whether both
affirmative, or one affirmative, the other negative, is made a
SYllOGISM, I forbear to write. All this that hath been said of
names or propositions, though necessary, is but dry discourse:
and this place is not for the whole art of logic, which if I
enter further into, I ought to pursue: besides, it is not
needful; for there be few men which have not so much natural
logic, as thereby to discern well enough, whether any conclusion
I shall hereafter make, in this discourse, be well or ill
collected: only thus much I say in this place, that making of
syllogisms is that we call RATIOCINATION or reasoning.
12. Now when a man reasoneth from principles that are found
indubitable by experience, all deceptions of sense and
equivocation of words avoided, the conclusion he maketh is said
to be according to right reason; but when from his conclusion a
man may, by good ratiocination, derive that which is
contradictory to any evident truth whatsoever, then is he said to
have concluded against reason: and such a conclusion is called
absurdity.
13. As the invention of names hath been necessary for the
drawing of men out of ignorance, by calling to their remembrance
the necessary coherence of one conception to another; so also
hath it on the other side precipitated men into error: insomuch,
that whereas by the benefit of words and ratiocination they
exceed brute beasts in knowledge; by the incommodities that
accompany the same they exceed them also in errors. For true and
false are things not incident to beasts, because they adhere to
propositions and language; nor have they ratiocination, whereby
to multiply one untruth by another.. as men have.
14. It is the nature almost of every corporeal thing, being
often moved in one and the same manner, to receive continually a
greater and greater easiness and aptitude to the same motion;
insomuch as in time the same becometh so habitual, that to beget
it, there needs no more than to begin it. The passions of man, as
they are the beginning of all his voluntary motions, so are they
the beginning of speech, which is the motion of his tongue. And
men desiring to shew others the knowledge, opinions, conceptions,
and passions which are within themselves, and to that end. having
invented language, have by that means transferred all that
discursion of their mind mentioned in the former chapter, by the
motion of their tongues, into discourse of words; and ratio, now,
is but oratio, for the most part, wherein custom hath so great a
power, that the mind suggesteth only the first word, the rest
follow habitually, and are not followed by the mind. As it is
with beggars, when they say their paternoster, putting together
such words, and in such manner, as in their education they have
learned from their nurses, from their companions, or from their
teachers, having no images or conceptions in their minds
answering to the words they speak. And as they have learned
themselves, so they teach posterity. Now, if we consider the
power of those deceptions of sense, mentioned chapter 11 section
10, and also how unconstantly names have been settled, and how
subject they are to equivocation, and how diversified by passion,
(scarce two men agreeing what is to be called good, and what
evil; what liberality, what prodigality; what valour, what
temerity) and how subject men are to paralogism or fallacy in
reasoning, I may in a manner conclude, that it is impossible to
rectify so many errors of any one man, as must needs proceed from
those causes, without beginning anew from the very first grounds
of all our knowledge, sense; and, instead of books, reading over
orderly one's own conceptions: in which meaning I take nosce
teipsum for a precept worthy the reputation it hath gotten.
Chapter 6
Of a Knowledge, Opinion and Relief
1. There is a story somewhere, of one that pretended to have
been miraculously cured of blindness, wherewith he was born, by
St. Alban or other St., at the town of St. Alban's; and that the
Duke of Gloucester being there, to be satisfied of the truth of
the miracle, asked the man, What colour is this? who, by
answering, It is green, discovered himself, and was punished for
a counterfeit: for though by his sight newly received he might
distinguish between green, and red, and all other colours, as
well as any that should interrogate him, yet he could not
possibly know at first sight, which of them was called green, or
red, or by other name. By this we may understand, there be two
sorts of knowledge, whereof the one is nothing else but sense, or
knowledge original (as I have said at the beginning of the second
chapter), and remembrance of the same; the other is called
science or knowledge of the truth of propositions, and how things
are called, and is derived from understanding. Both of these
sorts are but experience; the former being the experience of the
effects of things that work upon us from without; and the latter
the experience men have of the proper use of names in language.
And all experience being (as I have said) but remembrance, all
knowledge is remembrance: and of the former, the register we keep
in books, is called history. but the registers of the latter are
called the sciences.
2. There are two things necessarily implied in this word
knowledge; the one is truth, the other evidence; for what is not
true, can never be known. For let a man say he knoweth a thing
never so well, if the same shall afterwards appear to be false,
he is driven to a confession, that it was not knowledge, but
opinion. Likewise, if the truth be not evident, though a man
holdeth it, yet is his knowledge of it no more than theirs that
hold the contrary. For if truth were enough to make it knowledge,
all truths were known: which is not so.
3. What truth is, hath been defined in the precedent chapter;
what evidence is, I now set down. And it is the concomitance of a
man's conception with the words that signify such conception in
the act of ratiocination. For when a man reasoneth with his lips
only, to which the mind suggesteth only the beginning, and
followeth not the words of his mouth with the conceptions of his
mind, out of a custom of so speaking; though he begin his
ratiocination with true propositions, and proceed with perfect
syllogisms, and thereby make always true conclusions; yet are not
his conclusions evident to him, for want of the concomitance of
conception with his words. For if the words alone were
sufficient, a parrot might be taught as well to know a truth, as
to speak it. Evidence is to truth, as the sap is to the tree,
which so far as it creepeth along with the body and branches,
keepeth them alive; when it forsaketh them, they die. For this
evidence, which is meaning with our words, is the life of truth;
without it truth is nothing worth.
4. Knowledge, therefore, which we call SCIENCE, I define to
be evidence of truth, from some beginning or principle of sense.
For the truth of a proposition is never evident, until we
conceive the meaning of the words or terms whereof it consisteth,
which are always conceptions of the mind; nor can we remember
those conceptions, without the thing that produced the same by
our senses. The first principle of knowledge therefore is, that
We have such and such conceptions; the second, that we have thus
and thus named the things whereof they are conceptions; the third
is, that we have joined those names in such manner, as to make
true propositions; the fourth and last is, that we have joined
those propositions in such manner as they be concluding. And by
these four steps the conclusion is known and evident, and the
truth of the conclusion said to be known. And of these two kinds
of knowledge, whereof the former is experience of fact, and the
latter evidence of truth: as the former, if it be great, is
called prudence, so the latter, if it be much, hath usually been
called, both by ancient and modern writers, SAPIENCE or wisdom:
and of this latter, man only is capable; of the former, brute
beasts also participate.
5. A proposition is said to be supposed, when, being not
evident, it is nevertheless admitted for a time, to the end, that
joining to it other propositions, we may conclude something; and
so proceed from conclusion to conclusion, for a trail whether the
same will lead us into any absurd or impossible conclusion; which
if it do, then we know such supposition to have been false.
6. But if running through many conclusions, we come to none
that are absurd, then we think the supposition probable; likewise
we think probable whatsoever proposition we admit for truth by
error of reasoning, or from trusting to other men. And all such
propositions as are admitted by trust or error, we are not said
to know, but think them to be true: and the admittance of them is
called OPINION.
7. And particularly, when the opinion is admitted out of
trust to other men, they are said to believe it; and their
admittance of it is called BELIEF, and sometimes faith.
8. It is either science or opinion which we commonly mean by
the word conscience: for men say that such and such a thing is
true upon, or in their consciences; which they never do, when
they think it doubtful; and therefore they know, or think they
know it to be true. But men, when they say things upon their
conscience, are not therefore presumed certainly to know the
truth of what they say. It remaineth then, that that word is used
by them that have an opinion, not only of the truth of the thing,
but also of their knowledge of it. So that conscience, as men
commonly use the word, signifieth an opinion, not so much of the
truth of the proposition, as of their own knowledge of it, to
which the truth of the proposition is consequent. CONSCIENCE
therefore I define to be opinion of evidence.
9. Belief, which is the admitting of propositions upon trust,
in many cases is no less free from doubt, than perfect and
manifest knowledge. For as there is nothing whereof there is not
some cause; so, when there is doubt, there must be some cause
thereof conceived. Now there be many things which we receive from
report of others, of which it is impossible to imagine any cause
of doubt: for what can be opposed against the consent of all men,
in things they can know, and have no cause to report otherwise
than they are (such as is a great part of our histories), unless
a man would say that all the world had conspired to deceive him.
And thus much of sense, imagination, discursion, ratiocination,
and knowledge, which are the acts of our power cognitive, or
conceptive. That power of the mind which we call motive,
differeth from the power motive of the body. for the power motive
of the body is that by which it moveth other bodies, which we
call strength: but the power motive of the mind, is that by which
the mind giveth animal motion to that body wherein it existeth;
the acts hereof are our affections and passions, of which I am
now to speak.
Chapter 7
Of Delight and Pain; Good and Evil
1. In the eighth section of the second chapter is shewed, how
conceptions or apparitions are nothing really, but motion in some
internal substance of the head; which motion not stopping there,
but proceeding to the heart, of necessity must there either help
or hinder that motion which is called vital; when it helpeth, it
is called DELIGHT, contentment, or pleasure, which is nothing
really but motion about the heart, as conception is nothing but
motion within the head; and the objects that cause it are called
pleasant or delightful, or by some name equivalent; the Latins
have jucunda, a juvando, from helping; and the same delight, with
reference to the object, is called LOVE: but when such motion
weakeneth or hindereth the vital motion, then it is called PAIN;
and in relation to that which causeth it, HATRED, which the Latin
expresseth sometimes by odium, and sometimes by taedium.
2. This motion, in which consisteth pleasure or pain, is also
a solicitation or provocation either to draw near to the thing
that pleaseth, or to retire from the thing that displeaseth. And
this solicitation is the endeavour or internal beginning of
animal motion, which when the object delighteth, is called
APPETITE; when it displeaseth, it is called AVERSION, in respect
of the displeasure present; but in respect of the displeasure
expected, FEAR. So that pleasure, love, and appetite, which is
also called desire, are divers names for divers considerations of
the same thing.
3. Every man, for his own part, calleth that which pleaseth,
and is delightful to himself, GOOD; and that EVIL which
displeaseth him: insomuch that while every man differeth from
other in constitution, they differ also one from another
concerning the common distinction of good and evil. Nor is there
any such thing as agathon aplox, that is to say, simply good. For
even the goodness which we attribute to God Almighty, is his
goodness to us. And as we call good and evil the things that
please and displease; so call we goodness and badness, the
qualities or powers whereby they do it. And the signs of that
goodness are called by the Latins in one word PULCHRITUDO, and
the signs of evil, TURPITUDO; to which we have no words precisely
answerable.
4. As all conceptions we have immediately by the sense, are
delight, or pain, or appetite, or fear; so are also the
imaginations after sense. But as they are weaker imaginations, so
are they also weaker pleasures, or weaker pain.
5. As appetite is the beginning of animal motion toward
something which pleaseth us; so is the attaining thereof, the END
of that motion, which we also call the scope, and aim, and final
cause of the same: and when we attain that end, the delight we
have thereby is called FRUITION: so that bonum and finis are
different games, but for different considerations of the same
thing.
6. And of ends, some are called propinqui, that is, near at
hand; others remoti, farther off. But when the ends that be
nearer attaining, be compared with those that be farther off,
they are not called ends, but means, and the way to those. But
for an utmost end, in which the ancient philosophers have placed
felicity, and have disputed much concerning the way thereto,
there is no such thing in this world, nor way to it, more than to
Utopia: for while we live, we have desires, and desire
presupposeth a farther end. Those things which please us, as the
way or means to a farther end, we call PROFITABLE; and the
fruition of them, USE; and those things that profit not, VAIN.
7. Seeing all delight is appetite, and appetite presupposeth
a farther end, there can be no contentment but in proceeding: and
therefore we are not to marvel, when we see, that as men attain
to more riches, honours, or other power; so their appetite
continually groweth more and more; and when they are come to the
utmost degree of one kind of power, they pursue some other, as
long as in any kind they think themselves behind any other. Of
those therefore that have attained to the highest degree of
honour and riches, some have affected mastery in some art; as
Nero in music and poetry, Commodus in the art of a gladiator. And
such as affect not some such thing, must find diversion and
recreation of their thoughts in the contention either of play, or
business. And men justly complain as of a great grief, that they
know not what to do. FELICITY, therefore (by which we mean
continual delight), consisteth not in having prospered, but in
prospering.
8. There are few things in this world, but either have a
mixture of good and evil, or there is a chain of them so
necessarily linked together, that the one cannot be taken without
the other, as for example: the pleasures of sin, and the
bitterness of punishment, are inseparable; as are also labour and
honour, for the most part. Now when in the whole chain, the
greater part is good, the whole is called good; and when the evil
over-weigheth, the whole is called evil.
9. There are two sorts of pleasure, whereof the one seemeth
to affect the corporeal organ of sense, and that I call SENSUAL;
the greatest whereof is that, by which we are invited to give
continuance to our species; and the next, by which a man is
invited to meat, for the preservation of his individual person.
The other sort of delight is not particular to any part of the
body, and is called the delight of the mind, and is that which we
call JOY. Likewise of pains, some affect the body, and are
therefore called the pains of the, body. and some not, and those
are called GriEF.
Chapter 8
Of the Pleasures of the Senses; Of Honour
1. Having in the first section of the precedent chapter
presupposed that motion and agitation of the brain which we call
conception, to be continued to the heart, and there to be called
passion; I have thereby obliged myself, as far forth as I can, to
search out and declare, from what conception proceedeth every one
of those passions which we commonly take notice of. For the
things that please and displease, are innumerable, and work
innumerable ways; but men have taken notice of the passions they
have from them in a very few, which also are many of them without
name.
2. And first, we are to consider that of conceptions there
are three sorts, whereof one is of that which is present, which
is sense; another, of that which is past, which is remembrance;
and the third, of that which is future, which we call
expectation: all which have been manifestly declared in the
second and the third chapter. And every of these conceptions is
pleasure present. And first for the pleasures of the body which
affect the sense of touch and taste, as far forth as they be
organical, their conception is sense; so also is the pleasure of
all exonerations of nature; all which passions I have before
named sensual pleasures; and their contraries, sensual pains; to
which also may be added the pleasures and displeasures of odours,
if any of them shall be found organical, which for the most part
they are not, as appeareth by this experience which every man
hath, that the same smells, when they seem to proceed from
others, displease, though they proceed from ourselves; but when
we think they proceed from ourselves, they displease not, though
they come from others: the displeasure therefore, in these is a
conception of hurt thereby as being unwholesome, and is therefore
a conception of evil to come, and not present. Concerning the
delight of hearing, it is diverse, and the organ itself not
affected thereby. Simple sounds please by continuance and
equality, as the sound of a bell or lute: insomuch that it
seemeth an equality continued by the percussion of the object
upon the ear, is pleasure; the contrary is called harshness: such
as is grating, and some other sounds, which do not always affect
the body, but only sometimes, and that with a kind of horror
beginning at the teeth. Harmony, or many sounds together
agreeing, please by the same reason as unison, which is the sound
of equal strings equally stretched. Sounds that differ in any
height, please by inequality and equality alternate, that is to
say, the higher note striketh twice, for one stroke of the other,
whereby they strike together every second time; as is well proved
by Galileo, in the first dialogue concerning local motions, where
he also sheweth, that two sounds differing a fifth, delight the
ear by an equality of striking after two inequalities; for the
higher note striketh the ear thrice, while the other striketh but
twice. In the like manner he sheweth, wherein consisteth the
pleasure of concord, and the displeasure of discord, in other
differences of notes. There is yet another pleasure and
displeasure of sounds, which consisteth in consequence of one
note after another, diversified both by accent and measure:
whereof that which pleaseth is called air. But for what reason
succession in one tone and measure is more air than another, I
confess I know not; but I conjecture the reason to be, for that
some of them may imitate and revive some passion which otherwise
we take no notice of, and the other not; for no air pleaseth but
for a time, no more doth imitation. Also the pleasures of the eye
consist in a certain equality of colour: for light, the most
glorious of all colours, is made by equal operation of the
object; whereas colour is (perturbed, that is to say) unequal
light, as hath been said chap. II, sect. 8. And therefore
colours, the more equality is in them, the more resplendent they
are. And as harmony is a pleasure to the ear, which consisteth of
divers sounds; so perhaps may some mixture of divers colours be
harmony to the eye, more than another mixture. There is yet
another delight by the ear, which happeneth only to men of skill
in music, which is of another nature, and not (as these)
conception of the present, but rejoicing in their own skill; of
which nature are the passions of which I am to speak next.
3. Conception of the future is but a supposition of the same,
proceeding from remembrance of what is Past; and we so far
conceive that anything will be hereafter, as we know there is
something at the present that hath power to produce it. And that
anything hath power now to produce another thing hereafter, we
cannot conceive, but by remembrance that it hath produced the
like heretofore. Wherefore all conception of future, is
conception of power able to produce something; whosoever
therefore expecteth pleasure to come, must conceive withal some
power in himself by which the same may be attained. And because
the passions whereof I am to speak next, consist in conception of
the future, that is to say, in conception of power past, and the
act to come; before I go any farther, I must in the next place
speak somewhat concerning this power.
4. By this power I mean the same with the faculties of body
and mind, mentioned in the first chapter, that is to say, of the
body, nutritive, generative, motive; and of the mind, knowledge.
And besides those, such farther powers, as by them are acquired
(viz.) riches, place of authority, friendship or favour, and good
fortune; which last is really nothing else but the favour of God
Almighty. The contraries of these are impotences, infirmities, or
defects of the said powers respectively. And because the power of
one man resisteth and hindereth the effects of the power of
another power simply is no more, but the excess of the power of
one above that of another. For equal powers opposed, destroy one
another; and such their opposition is called contention.
5. The signs by which we know our own power are those actions
which proceed from the same; and the signs by which other men
know it, are such actions, gesture, countenance and speech, as
usually such powers produce: and the acknowledgment of power is
called HONOUR; and to honour a man (inwardly in the mind) is to
conceive or acknowledge, that that man hath the odds or excess of
power above him that contendeth or compareth himself. And
HONOURABLE are those signs for which one man acknowledgeth power
or excess above his concurrent in another. As for example: --
Beauty of person, consisting in a lively aspect of the
countenance, and other signs of natural heat, are honourable,
being signs precedent of power generative, and much issue; as
also, general reputation amongst those of the other sex, because
signs consequent of the same. -- And actions proceeding from
strength of body and open force, are honourable, as signs
consequent of power motive, such as are victory in battle or
duel; et a avoir tue son homme. -- Also to adventure upon great
exploits and danger, as being a sign consequent of opinion of our
own strength: and that opinion a sign of the strength itself. --
And to teach or persuade are honourable, because they be signs of
knowledge. -- And riches are honourable; as signs of the power
that acquired them. -- And gifts, costs, and magnificence of
houses, apparel, and the like, are honourable, as signs of
riches. -- And nobility is honourable by reflection, as signs of
power in the ancestors. -- And authority, because a sign of
strength, wisdom, favour or riches by which it is attained. --
And good fortune or casual prosperity is honourable, because a
sign of the favour of God, to whom is to be ascribed all that
cometh to us by fortune, no less than that we attain unto us by
industry. And the contraries, or defects, of these signs are
dishonourable; and according to the signs of honour and
dishonour, so we estimate and make the value or WORTH of a man.
For so much worth is every thing, as a man will give for the use
of all it can do.
6. The signs of honour are those by which we perceive that
one man acknowledgeth the power and worth of another. Such as
these:-To praise; to magnify; to bless, or call happy; to pray or
supplicate to; to thank; to offer unto or present; to obey; to
hearken to with attention; to speak to with consideration; to
approach unto in decent manner, to keep distance from; to give
the way to, and the like; which are the honour the inferior
giveth to the superior.
But the signs of honour from the superior to the inferior,
are such as these: to praise or prefer him before his concurrent;
to hear him more willingly; to speak to him more familiarly; to
admit him nearer. to employ him rather. to ask his advice rather;
to like his opinions; and to give him any gift rather than money,
or if money, so much as may not imply his need of a little: for
need of little is greater poverty than need of much. And this is
enough for examples of the signs of honour and of power.
7. Reverence is the conception we have concerning another,
that he hath a power to do unto us both good and hurt, but not
the will to do us hurt.
8. In the pleasure men have, or displeasure
