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THE
ENGLISH WORKS
OF
THOMAS HOBBES.

THE

ENGLISH WORKS

OF

THOMAS HOBBES

OF MALMESBURY;

NOW FIRST COLLECTED AND EDITED

BY

SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH, BART.

VOL. IV.

LONDON:

JOHN BOHN,

HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

MDCCCXL.

LONDON:

C. RICHARDS, PRINTER, ST. MARTIN'S LANE.

CONTENTS OF VOL. IV.

HOBBES' TRIPOS

IN

Three Discourses.

THE FIRST,

HUMAN NATURE:

THE SECOND,

DE CORPORE POLITICO:

THE THIRD,

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

BY

THOMAS HOBBES

OF MALMESBURY.

HUMAN NATURE,
OR THE
FUNDAMENTAL ELEMENTS
OF
POLICY.

BEING A DISCOVERY OF

THE FACULTIES, ACTS, AND PASSIONS,

OF

THE SOUL OF MAN,

FROM THEIR ORIGINAL CAUSES;

ACCORDING TO SUCH

PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES,

AS ARE NOT COMMONLY KNOWN OR ASSERTED.

BY

THOMAS HOBBES

OF MALMESBURY.

TO THE READER.

Reader,

It was thought good to let you know that Mr. Hobbes hath written a body of philosophy, upon such principles and in such order as are used by men conversant in demonstration: this he hath distinguished into three parts; De Corpore, De Homine, De Cive; each of the consequents beginning at the end of the antecedent, and insisting thereupon, as the later Books of Euclid upon the former. The last of these he hath already published in Latin beyond the seas; the second is this now presented: and if these two receive justice in the world, there is hope we may obtain the first. He whose care it is, and labour, to satisfy the judgment and reason of mankind, will condescend so far, we hope, to satisfy the desire of those learned men whom these shall either have found or made; which cannot be, until they shall analytically have followed the grand phænomena of states and kingdoms through the passions of particular men, into the elemental principles of natural and corporeal motions. The former work was published by the Author, and so is out of danger; this by a friend, with leave from him: and to secure this, you are intreated to consider the relations wherein it stands, especially to the book de Cive. It was thought a part of religion, not to make any change without the author’s advice, which could not suddenly be obtained; and so it comes forth innocently, supposing nothing to have happened since the Dedication of it; which if it seem a solecism to some, it may to others give satisfaction, in calling to mind those times and opportunities to which we are indebted for these admirable compositions.

F. B.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

WILLIAM, EARL OF NEWCASTLE,

GOVERNOR TO THE PRINCE HIS HIGHNESS,

ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL.

My most honoured Lord,

From the principal parts of Nature, Reason and Passion, have proceeded two kinds of learning, mathematical and dogmatical: the former is free from controversy and dispute, because it consisteth in comparing figure and motion only; in which things, truth, and the interest of men, oppose not each other: but in the other there is nothing undisputable, because it compareth men, and meddleth with their right and profit; in which, as oft as reason is against a man, so oft will a man be against reason. And from hence it cometh, that they who have written of justice and policy in general, do all invade each other and themselves with contradictions. To reduce this doctrine to the rules and infallibility of reason, there is no way, but, first, put such principles down for a foundation, as passion, not mistrusting, may not seek to displace; and afterwards to build thereon the truth of cases in the law of nature (which hitherto have been built in the air) by degrees, till the whole have been inexpugnable. Now, my Lord, the principles fit for such a foundation, are those which heretofore I have acquainted your Lordship withal in private discourse, and which by your command I have here put into a method. To examine cases thereby between sovereign and sovereign, or between sovereign and subject, I leave to them that shall find leisure and encouragement thereto. For my part, I present this to your Lordship for the true and only foundation of such science. For the style, it is therefore the worse, because, whilst I was writing, I consulted more with logic than with rhetoric: but for the doctrine, it is not slightly proved; and the conclusions thereof of such nature, as, for want of them, government and peace have been nothing else, to this day, but mutual fears; and it would be an incomparable benefit to commonwealth, that every one held the opinion concerning law and policy here delivered. The ambition therefore of this book, in seeking by your Lordship’s countenance to insinuate itself with those whom the matter it containeth most nearly concerneth, is to be excused. For myself, I desire no greater honour than I enjoy already in your Lordship’s favour, unless it be that you would be pleased, in continuance thereof, to give me more exercise in your commands; which, as I am bound by your many great favours, I shall obey, being,

My most honoured Lord,

Your most humble and most obliged Servant,

Thomas Hobbes.

May 9, 1640.

IN LIBELLUM PRÆSTANTISSIMI

THOMÆ HOBBII,

VIRI VERE PHILOSOPHI,

“DE NATURA HOMINIS.”

Quæ magna cœli mœnia, et tractus maris

Terræque fines, siquid aut ultra est, capit,

Mens ipsa tandem capitur: omnia hactenus

Quæ nosse potuit, nota jam primum est sibi.

Accede, Lector, disce quis demum sies;

Et inquilinam jecoris agnoscas tui,

Qua propius hæret nil tibi, et nil tam procul.

Non hic scholarum frivola, aut cassi logi,

Quales per annos forte plus septem legit;

Ut folle pleno prodeat, rixæ artifex;

Vanasque merces futili lingua crepet:

Sed sancta rerum pondera, et sensus graves,

Quales parari decuit, ipsa cum fuit

Pingenda ratio, et vindici suo adstitit.

Panduntur omnes machinæ gyri tuæ,

Animæque vectes, trochleæ, cunei, rotæ;

Qua concitetur arte, quo sufflamine

Sistatur illa rursus, et constet sibi:

Nec, si fenestram pectori humano suam

Aptasset ipse Momus, inspiceret magis.

Hic cerno levia affectuum vestigia,

Gracilesque sensus lineas; video quibus

Vehantur alis blanduli cupidines,

Quibusque stimulis urgeant iræ graves.

Hic et dolores, et voluptates suos

Produnt recessus; ipse nec timor latet.

Has norit artes, quisquis in foro velit

Animorum habenas flectere, et populos cupit

Aptis ligatos nexibus jungi sibi.

Hic Archimedes publicus figat pedem,

Siquando regna machinis politicis

Urgere satagit, et feras gentes ciet,

Imisque motum sedibus mundum quatit:

Facile domabit cuncta, qui menti imperat.

Consultor audax, et Promethei potens

Facinoris anime! quis tibi dedit Deus

Hæc intueri sæculis longe abdita,

Oculosque luce tinxit ambrosia tuos?

Tu mentis omnis, at tuæ nulla est capax.

Hac laude solus fruere: divinum est opus

Animam creare; proximum huic, ostendere.

Rad. Bathurst, A.M.

COL. TRIN. OXON.

HUMAN NATURE:

OR THE

FUNDAMENTAL ELEMENTS

OF POLICY.

CHAPTER I.

Introduction.

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 body politic, and what it is we call a law; concerning which points, as the writings of men from antiquity downwards 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 of 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 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 shew 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. 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 in these three heads, power nutritive, power motive, and power generative.

7. Of the powers of the mind there be two sorts, cognitive, imaginative, or conceptive and motive; and first of cognitive.

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 all those things which he had before seen or perceived in it; every one 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 the thing without, is that we call our conception, imagination, ideas, notice or knowledge of them; and the faculty or power by which we are capable of such knowledge, is that I here call cognitive power, or conceptive, the power of knowing or conceiving.

CHAPTER II.

[2.] Definition of sense. [4.] Four propositions concerning the nature of conceptions. [5.] The first proved. [6.] The second proved. [7, 8.] The third proved. [9.] The fourth proved. [10.] The main deception of sense.

1. Having declared what I mean by the word conception, and other words equivalent thereunto, I come to the conceptions themselves, to shew their differences, their causes, and the manner of the production, so far as is necessary for this place.

Definition of sense.

2. Originally all conceptions proceed from the action of the thing itself, whereof it is the conception: now when the action is present, the conception it produceth is also called sense; and the thing by whose action the same is produced, is called the object of the 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 and 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 are also conceptions of several qualities, or natures of their objects.

Four propositions concerning the nature of conceptions.

4. Because the image in vision consisting of 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 points:

That the subject wherein colour and image are inherent, is not the object or thing seen.

That there is nothing without us (really) which we call an image or colour.

That the said image or colour is but an apparition unto us of the motion, agitation, or alteration, which the object worketh in the brain, or spirits, or some internal substance of the head.

That as in vision, so also in conceptions that arise from the other senses, the subject of their inherence is not the object, but the sentient.

The first proved

5. Every man hath so much experience as to have seen the sun and the other visible objects by reflection in the water and 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 from 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 therein, because the thing seen cannot be in two places.

One of these images therefore is not inherent in the object: but seeing the organs of the sight are then in equal temper or 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 number.

The second proved.

6. Secondly, that the image of any thing by reflection in a glass or water or the like, is not any thing in or behind the glass, or in or under the water, every man may grant to himself; which is the second proposition.

The third proved.

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 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 to 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 reflection, which in effect is the third proposition; namely, that image and colour is but an apparition to 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 illuminate 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 affected, is not hard to prove. And first, it is evident that the fire, the only lucid body here upon earth, worketh by motion equally every way; insomuch as the motion thereof stopped or inclosed, it is presently extinguished, and no more fire. And further, that that motion, whereby the fire worketh, is dilation, 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 another to the very eye; and in the same manner the exterior part of the eye presseth the interior, (the laws of refraction still observed). 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 into the optic nerve again; which we not conceiving as motion or rebound from within, do 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 by any other ways 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 the 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 not any particular motion internal to alter it, we call it light; but when it cometh to the eye 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, and the other 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.

The fourth proved.

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 which is not in itself: the clapper hath no 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 nerve unto 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 which is in the fire: for our heat is pleasure or pain, according as it is great or moderate; but in the coal there is no such thing. By this the fourth and last proposition is proved, viz. that as in vision, so also in conceptions that arise from other senses, the subject of their inherence is not in the object, but in the sentient.

The main deception of sense.

10. And from hence also it followeth, that whatsoever accidents or qualities our senses make us think there be in the world, they be not there, but are seeming 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 to be by sense 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 III.

[1.] Imagination defined. [2.] Sleep and dreams defined. [3.] Causes of dreams. [4.] Fiction defined. [5.] Phantasms defined. [6.] Remembrance defined. [7.] Wherein remembrance consisteth. [8.] Why in a dream a man never thinks he dreams. [9.] Why few things seem strange in dreams. [10.] That a dream may be taken for reality and vision.

Imagination defined.

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 organs the object ceaseth to work; that is to say, though the sense be past, the image or conception remaineth; but more obscure 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.

Sleep and dreams defined.

2. But when present sense is not, as in sleep, there the images remaining after sense, when there be many, as in dreams, are not obscure, but strong and clear, as in sense itself. The reason is, that which obscured and made the conceptions weak, namely sense, and present operation of the object, is removed: for sleep is the privation of the act of sense, (the power remaining) and dreams are the imagination of them that sleep.

Causes of dreams.

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 (old men commonly dream oftener, and have their dreams more painful than young) proceeding from the different accidents of man’s body, as dreams of lust, as 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 descents of different sorts of phlegm maketh us a dream of different tastes of meats and 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 had caused them. 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 needs 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, but as the uncertain flight of broken clouds permits.

Fiction defined.

4. As when the water, or any liquid thing moved at once by divers movents, receiveth one motion compounded of them all; so also the brain or spirit therein, having been stirred by divers objects, composeth an imagination of divers conceptions that appeared single to the sense. As for example, the sense sheweth 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.

Phantasms defined.

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 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, who are timorous or superstitious) are examples of the same. And these, for distinction-sake, may be called phantasms.

Remembrance defined.

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 the 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.

Wherein remembrance consisteth.

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; but 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: when afterwards there escape him more particulars, this is also to remember, but not so well. In process of time, the image of the city returneth but as 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 a great distance of place, and to remember at a 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.

Why in a dream a man never thinks he dreams.

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, that is to say dreams, 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.

Why few things seem strange in dreams.

9. From the same ground it proceedeth, that men wonder not in their dreams at place and persons, as they would do waking: for waking, a man would think it strange to be in a place where 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 waketh.

That a dream may be taken for reality and vision.

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 κριτήριον or mark by which he can discern whether it were a dream or not, and therefore do the less wonder to hear a man sometimes to tell his dream for a truth, or to take it for a vision.

CHAPTER IV.

[1.] Discourse. [2.] The cause of coherence of thoughts. [3.] Ranging. [4.] Sagacity. [5.] Reminiscence. [6.] Experience. [7.] Expectation. [8.] Conjecture. [9.] Signs. [10.] Prudence. [11.] Caveats of concluding from experience.

Discourse.

1. The succession of conceptions in the mind, 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.

The cause of coherence of thoughts.

2. The cause of the coherence or consequence of one conception to another, is their first coherence or consequence at that time when they are 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, and from church to people, and from people to tumult: and according to this example, the mind may run almost from anything to anything. But as in the sense the conception of cause and effect may 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 a thought of honour to which he hath an appetite, cometh to the thought of wisdom, which is the next means thereunto; and from thence to the thought of study, which is the next means to wisdom.

Ranging.

3. To omit that kind of discursion by which we proceed from anything to anything, 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 casteth 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 arbitrary.

Sagacity.

4. Another sort of discursion is, when the appetite giveth a man his beginning, as in the example before, where honour to which a man hath appetite, maketh him think upon the next means of attaining it, and that again of the next, &c. And this the Latins call sagacitas, and we may call hunting or tracing, as dogs trace beasts by the smell, and men hunt them by their footsteps; or as men hunt after riches, place, or knowledge.

Reminiscence.

5. There is yet another kind of discursion beginning with the appetite to recover something lost, proceeding from the present backward, from thought of the place where we miss at, 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.

Experience.

6. The remembrance of 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 by what consequents.

Expectation.

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 the prevision of things to come, or expectation or presumption of the future.

Conjecture.

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 that which 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 again conjecture of the past, or presumption of the fact.

Signs.

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, maketh account there hath been the like antecedent; then he calleth both the antecedent and the consequent, signs one of another, as clouds are signs of rain to come, and rain of clouds past.

Prudence.

10. This taking of signs by 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 the 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 have 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 one 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 old men are more prudent, that is, conjecture better, cæteris paribus, than young: for, being old, they remember more; and experience is but remembrance. And men of quick imagination, cæteris paribus, are more prudent than those whose imaginations are slow: for they observe more in less time. Prudence is nothing but conjecture from experience, or taking of signs from experience warily, that is, that the experiments from which he taketh such signs be all remembered; for else the cases are not alike that seem so.

Caveats of concluding from experience.

11. As in conjecture concerning things past and future, it is prudence to conclude from experience, what is like to come to pass, or to have passed already; so it is an error to conclude from it, that it 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, or 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. Further, there is another caveat to be taken in concluding by experience, from the [tenth section] of the second chapter; that is, that we conclude such things to be without, that are within us.

CHAPTER V.

[1.] Of marks. [2.] Names or appellations. [3.] Names positive and privative. [4.] Advantage of names maketh us capable of science. [5.] Names universal and singular. [6.] Universals not in rerum natura. [7.] Equivocal names. [8.] Understanding. [9.] Affirmation, negation, proposition. [10.] Truth, falsity. [11.] Ratiocination. [12.] According to reason, against reason. [13.] Names causes of knowledge, so of error. [14.] Translation of the discourse of the mind into the discourse of the tongue, and of the errors thence proceeding.

Of marks.

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 rank himself somewhat above the nature of beasts, hath observed and remembered the cause of this defect, and to amend the same, hath imagined or devised to set up a visible or other sensible mark, the which, when he seeth it 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, thereby to remember their former danger, and avoid it.

Names or appellations.

2. In the number of these marks, are those human voices, which we call the names or appellations of things sensible by the ear, by which we recall into our mind some conceptions of the things to which we gave 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 arbitrary, imposed for a mark to bring into his mind some conception concerning the thing on which it is imposed.

Names positive and privative.

3. Things named, are either the objects themselves, as a man; or the conception itself that we have of man, as shape and 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, of infinite, which signify privation or defect; and to the privations themselves we give the names of 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.

Advantage of names maketh us capable of science.

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 many her young ones, for want of those names of order, one, two, and three, and 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.

Names universal and singular.

5. Seeing there be many conceptions of one and the same thing, and for every 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; 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 moveable, we give the appellation of moveable: and those names we give to many, are called universal to them all; as the name of man to every particular of mankind: such appellation as we give to one only thing, we call individual, or singular; as Socrates, and other proper names: or, by circumlocution, he that writ the Iliads, for Homer.

Universals not in rerum natura.

6. The universality of one name to many things, hath been the cause that men think the things are themselves universal; and so 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 something 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 should choose what man he pleaseth to draw, which must needs be some of them that are, or 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 he chooseth. It is plain therefore, that there is nothing universal but names; which are therefore called indefinite; because we limit them not ourselves, but leave them to be applied by the hearer: whereas a singular name is limited and 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.

Equivocal names.

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 like considerations in them all; which is the cause that many of them are not of constant signification, but bring into our mind other thoughts than those for which they were ordained, and these are called equivocal. As for example, the word faith signifieth the same with belief; sometimes it signifieth particularly that belief which maketh a Christian; and sometime 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.

Understanding.

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 discourse, which being derived from the custom and common use of speech, representeth unto us not 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.

Affirmation, negation, proposition.

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, man is a living creature; or thus, man is not righteous: whereof the former is called an affirmation, because the appellation, living creature, is positive; the latter a negative, because not righteous is privative.

Truth, falsity.

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 beside; 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 the proposition is said to be false, or falsity: falsity and a false proposition being also the same thing.

Ratiocination.

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 make in this discourse hereafter, be well or ill collected: only thus much I say in this place, that making of syllogisms is that we call ratiocination or reasoning.

According to reason, against reason.

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 he is said to have concluded against reason: and such a conclusion is called absurdity.

Names causes of knowledge, so of error.

13. As the invention of names hath been necessary for the drawing 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, and the commodities that accompany the same; so they exceed them also in error: for true and false are things not incident to beasts, because they adhere not to propositions and language; nor have they ratiocination, whereby to multiply one untruth by another, as men have.

Translation of the discourse of the mind into the discourse of the tongue, and of the errors thence proceeding.

14. It is the nature almost of every corporal 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 voluntary motions; so are they the beginning of speech, which is the motion of the tongue. And men desiring to shew others the knowledge, opinions, conceptions, and passions which are in 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 companies, or from their teachers, having no images or conceptions in their mind, 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 the sense, mentioned chapter II. [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 and sense; and instead of books, reading over orderly one’s own conceptions: in which meaning, I take nosce te ipsum[te ipsum] for a precept worthy the reputation it hath gotten.

CHAPTER VI.

[1.] Of the two kinds of knowledge. [2.] Truth and evidence necessary to knowledge. [3.] Evidence defined. [4.] Science defined. [5.] Supposition defined. [6.] Opinion defined. [7.] Belief defined. [8.] Conscience defined. [9.] Belief, in some cases, no less from doubt than knowledge.

Of the two kinds of knowledge.

1. There is a story somewhere, of one that pretends to have been miraculously cured of blindness, wherewith he was born, by St. Alban or other Saints, 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 was 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 any other name. By this we may understand, there be two kinds of knowledge, whereof the one is nothing else but sense, or knowledge original, as I have said in 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 experience men have from 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.

Truth and evidence necessary to knowledge.

2. There are two things necessarily implied in this word knowledge; the one is truth, the other evidence; for what is not truth, can never be known. For, let a man say he knoweth a thing never so well, if the same shall afterwards appear false, he is driven to confession, that it was not knowledge, but opinion. Likewise, if the truth be not evident, though a man holdeth it, yet is his knowledge thereof no more than theirs who hold the contrary: for if truth were enough to make it knowledge, all truth were known; which is not so.

Evidence defined.

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 custom of so speaking; though he begin his ratiocination with true propositions, and proceed with certain 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 truth, as to speak it. Evidence is to truth, as the sap to the tree, which, so far as it creepeth along with the body and branches, keepeth them alive; where it forsaketh them, they die: for this evidence, which is meaning with our words, is the life of truth.

Science defined.

4. Knowledge thereof, 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 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 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.

Supposition defined.

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 to proceed from conclusion to conclusion, for a trial 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.

Opinion defined.

6. But if running through many conclusions, we come to none that are absurd, then we think the proposition 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 to think them to be true; and the admittance of them is called opinion.

Belief defined.

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.

Conscience defined.

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 in or upon their conscience; 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, to which the truth of the proposition is consequent. Conscience I therefore define to be opinion of evidence.

Belief, in some cases, no less from doubt than knowledge.

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, and 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 to speak in general.

CHAPTER VII.

[1.] Of delight, pain, love, hatred. [2.] Appetite, aversion, fear. [3.] Good, evil, pulchritude, turpitude. [4.] End, fruition. [5.] Profitable, use, vain. [6.] Felicity. [7.] Good and evil mixed. [8.] Sensual delight, and pain; joy and grief.

Of delight, pain, love, hatred.

1. In the [eighth] section of the second chapter is shewed, that conceptions and 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 the 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 in the head: and the objects that cause it are called pleasant or delightful, or by some name equivalent; the Latins have jucundum, 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 Latins express sometimes by odium, and sometimes by tædium.

Appetite, aversion, fear.

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.

Good, evil, pulchritude, turpitude.

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 another in constitution, they differ also from one another concerning the common distinction of good and evil. Nor is there any such thing as absolute goodness, considered without relation: for even the goodness which we apprehend in 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.

As all conceptions we have immediately by the sense, are, delight, or pain, or appetite, or fear; so are all the imaginations after sense. But as they are weaker imaginations, so are they also weaker pleasures, or weaker pain.

End, fruition.

4. As appetite is the beginning of animal motion towards something that 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 the fruition: so that bonum and finis are different names, but for different considerations of the same thing.

Profitable, use, vain.

5. And of ends, some of them are called propinqui, that is, near at hand; others remoti, far off: but when the ends that be nearer attaining, be compared with those that be further off, they are called not ends, but means, and the way to those. But for an utmost end, in which the ancient philosophers have placed felicity, and 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 further end. Those things which please us, as the way or means to a further end, we call profitable; and the fruition of them, use; and those things that profit not, vain.

Felicity.

6. Seeing all delight is appetite, and presupposeth a further 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, honour, or other power; so their appetite continually groweth more and more; and when they are come to the utmost degree of some 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 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.

Good and evil mixed.

7. There are few things in this world, but either have 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 is 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.

Sensual delight, and pain; joy and grief.

8. There are two sorts of pleasure, whereof the one seemeth to affect the corporeal organ of the sense, and that I call sensual; the greatest part 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 VIII.

[1, 2.] Wherein consist the pleasures of sense. [3, 4.] Of the imagination, or conception of power in man. [5.] Honour, honourable, worth. [6.] Signs of honour. [7.] Reverence. [8.] Passions.

Wherein consist the pleasures of sense.

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 therefore obliged myself, as far forth as I am able, to search out and declare from what conception proceedeth every one of those passions which we commonly take notice of: for, seeing the things that please and displease, are innumerable, and work innumerable ways, men have not taken notice but of 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 third chapters; and every of these conceptions is pleasure or pain 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 conceptions are sense: so also is the pleasure of all exonerations of nature: all which passions I have before named, sensual pleasures; and their contrary, 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 of this is a conception of hurt thereby from those odours, 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 equality, as the sound of a bell or lute: insomuch as it seems, 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 sometime, and that with a kind of horror beginning at the teeth. Harmony, or many sounds together agreeing, please by the same reason as the 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 motion: 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 strikes but twice. In like manner he sheweth wherein consisteth the pleasure of concord, and the displeasure of discord, in other difference 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 an air; but for what reason one succession in tone and measure is a more pleasing air than another, I confess I know not; but I conjecture the reason to be, for that some of them 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, chapter II. [section 8]. And therefore colours, the more equality is in them, the more resplendent they are; and as harmony is 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 of their own skill; of which nature are the passions of which I am to speak next.

Of the imagination, or conception of power in man.

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 further, I must in the next place speak somewhat concerning this power.

4. By this power I mean the same with the faculties of the body, nutritive, generative, motive, and of the mind, knowledge; and besides these, such further power as by them is 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 impotencies, 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.

Honour, honourable, worth.

5. 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, is to conceive or acknowledge that that man hath the odds or excess of that power above him with whom he 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 among 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; a d’avoir tué 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, cost, and magnificence of houses, apparel, and the like, are honourable, as signs of riches. And nobility is honourable by reflection, as a sign of power in the ancestors: and authority, because a sign of the 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 by industry. And the contraries and 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.

Signs of honour.

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, to call happy, to pray or supplicate to, to thank, to offer unto or present, to obey, to hearken unto with attention, to speak to with consideration, to approach unto in decent manner, to keep distance from, to give 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 more willingly, to speak to him more familiarly, to admit him nearer, to employ him rather, to ask his advice rather, to take his opinions, and to give him any gifts rather than money; or if money, so much as may not imply his need of a little: for need of a little is greater poverty than need of much. And this is enough for examples of the signs of honour and power.

Reverence.

7. Reverence is the conception we have concerning another, that he hath the power to do unto us both good and hurt, but not the will to do us hurt.

Passions.

8. In the pleasure men have, or displeasure from the signs of honour or dishonour done unto them, consisteth the nature of the passions, whereof we are to speak in the next chapter.