learn the events of former ages from history; but then we must
peruse the volumes in which this instruction is contained, and
thence carry up our inferences from one testimony to another, till
we arrive at the eyewitnesses and spectators of these distant
events. In a word, if we proceed not upon some fact, present to the
memory or senses, our reasonings would be merely hypothetical; and
however the particular links might be connected with each other, the
whole chain of inferences would have nothing to support it, nor
could we ever, by its means, arrive at the knowledge of any real
existence. If I ask why you believe any particular matter of fact,
which you relate, you must tell me some reason; and this reason will
be some other fact, connected with it. But as you cannot proceed after
this manner, in infinitum, you must at last terminate in some fact,
which is present to your memory or senses; or must allow that your
belief is entirely without foundation.

  38. What, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter? A simple one;
though, it must be confessed, pretty remote from the common theories
of philosophy. All belief of matter of fact or real existence is
derived merely from some object, present to the memory or senses,
and a customary conjunction between that and some other object. Or
in other words; having found, in many instances, that any two kinds of
objects- flame and heat, snow and cold- have always been conjoined
together; if flame or snow be presented anew to the senses, the mind
is carried by custom to expect heat or cold, and to believe that
such a quality does exist, and will discover itself upon a nearer
approach. This belief is the necessary result of placing the mind in
such circumstances. It is an operation of the soul, when we are so
situated, as unavoidable as to feel the passion of love, when we
receive benefits; or hatred, when we meet with injuries. All these
operations are a species of natural instincts, which no reasoning or
process of the thought and understanding is able either to produce
or to prevent.

  At this point, it would be very allowable for us to stop our
philosophical researches. In most questions we can never make a single
step further; and in all questions we must terminate here at last,
after our most restless and curious enquiries. But still our curiosity
will be pardonable, perhaps commendable, if it carry us on to still
farther researches, and make us examine more accurately the nature
of this belief, and of the customary conjunction, whence it is
derived. By this means we may meet with some explications and
analogies that will give satisfaction; at least to such as love the
abstract sciences, and can be entertained with speculations, which,
however accurate, may still retain a degree of doubt and
uncertainty. As to readers of a different taste; the remaining part of
this section is not calculated for them, and the following enquiries
may well be understood, though it be neglected.

                             PART II.

  39. Nothing is more free than the imagination of man; and though
it cannot exceed that original stock of ideas furnished by the
internal and external senses, it has unlimited power of mixing,
compounding, separating, and dividing these ideas, in all the
varieties of fiction and vision. It can feign a train of events,
with all the appearance of reality, ascribe to them a particular
time and place, conceive them as existent, and paint them out to
itself with every circumstance, that belongs to any historical fact,
which it believes with the greatest certainty. Wherein, therefore,
consists the difference between such a fiction and belief? It lies not
merely in any peculiar idea, which is annexed to such a conception
as commands our assent, and which is wanting to every known fiction.
For as the mind has authority over all its ideas, it could voluntarily
annex this particular idea to any fiction, and consequently be able to
believe whatever it pleases; contrary to what we find by daily
experience. We can, in our conception, join the head of a man to the
body of a horse; but it is not in our power to believe that such an
animal has ever really existed.

  It follows, therefore, that the difference between fiction and
belief lies in some sentiment or feeling, which is annexed to the
latter, not to the former, and which depends not on the will, nor
can be commanded at pleasure. It must be excited by nature, like all
other sentiments; and must arise from the particular situation, in
which the mind is placed at any particular juncture. Whenever any
object is presented to the memory or senses, it immediately, by the
force of custom, carries the imagination to conceive that object,
which is usually conjoined to it; and this conception is attended with
a feeling or sentiment, different from the loose reveries of the
fancy. In this consists the whole nature of belief. For as there is no
matter of fact which we believe so firmly that we cannot conceive
the contrary, there would be no difference between the conception
assented to and that which is rejected, were it not for some sentiment
which distinguishes the one from the other. If I see a billiard-ball
moving towards another, on a smooth table, I can easily conceive it to
stop upon contact. This conception implies no contradiction; but still
it feels very differently from that conception by which I represent to
myself the impulse and the communication of motion from one ball to
another.

  40. Were we to attempt a definition of this sentiment, we should,
perhaps, find it a very difficult, if not an impossible task; in the
same manner as if we should endeavour to define the feeling of cold or
passion of anger, to a creature who never had any experience of
these sentiments. Belief is the true and proper name of this
feeling; and no one is ever at a loss to know the meaning of that
term; because every man is every moment conscious of the sentiment
represented by it. It may not, however, be improper to attempt a
description of this sentiment; in hopes we may, by that means,