Section 2: The origin of ideasEveryone will freely admit that the perceptions of the mindwhen a man•feels the

pain of excessive heat or the pleasureof moderate warmth are considerably unlike what he feelswhen he
later•remembers this sensation or earlier•looks for-ward to it in his imagination. Memory and imagination maymimic or
copy the perceptions of the senses, but they can’tcreate a perception that has as much force and livelinessas the one
they are copying. Even when they operate withgreatest vigour, the most we will say is that they representtheir object so
vividly that we couldalmostsay we feel or seeit. Except when the mind is out of order because of diseaseor madness,
memory and imagination can never be so livelyas to create perceptions that are indistinguishable from theones we have
in seeing or feeling. The most lively thought isstill dimmer than the dullest sensation.A similar distinction runs through all
the other percep-tions of the mind. A real fit of•anger is very different frommerely thinking of that emotion. If you tell me
that someoneis in•love, I understand your meaning and form a correctconception of the state he is in; but I would never
mistakethat conception for the turmoil of actually being in love!When we think back on our past sensations and feelings,
ourthought is a faithful mirror that copies its objects truly; butit does so in colours that are fainter and more washed-
outthan those in which our original perceptions were clothed.To tell one from the other you don’t need careful thought
orphilosophical ability.So we can divide the mind’s perceptions into two classes,on the basis of their different degrees of
force and liveliness.The less forcible and lively are commonly called ‘thoughts’7
First EnquiryDavid Hume2: The origin of ideasor ‘ideas’. The others have no name in our language or inmost others,
presumably because we don’t need a generallabel for them except when we are doing philosophy. Let us,then, take the
liberty of calling them ‘impressions’, using thatword in a slightly unusual sense. By the term ‘impression’,then, I meanall
our more lively perceptions when we hear orsee or feel or love or hate or desire or will. These are to bedistinguished
from ideas, which arethe fainter perceptionsof which we are conscious when we reflect on[= ‘look inwardsat’]our
impressions.It may seem at first sight that human thought is utterlyunbounded: it not only escapes all human power
andauthority·as when a poor man thinks of becoming wealthyovernight, or when an ordinary citizen thinks of being a
king·,but isn’t even confined within the limits of nature and reality.It is as easy for the imagination to form monsters and
to joinincongruous shapes and appearances as it is to conceive themost natural and familiar objects. And while •the
body mustcreep laboriously over the surface of one planet,•thoughtcan instantly transport us to the most distant regions
of theuniverse—and even further. What never was seen or heardof may still beconceived; nothing is beyond the power
ofthought except what implies an absolute contradiction.But although our thought seems to be so free, when welook
more carefully we’ll find that it is really confined withinvery narrow limits, and that all this creative power of themind
amounts merely to the ability to combine, transpose,enlarge, or shrink the materials that the senses and experi-ence
provide us with. When we think of a golden mountain,we only join two consistent ideas—goldandmountain—withwhich
we were already familiar. We can conceive a virtuoushorse because our own feelings enable us to conceive virtue,and
we can join this with the shape of a horse, which is ananimal we know. In short, all the materials of thinking arederived
either from our outward senses or from our inwardfeelings: all that the mind and will do is to mix and combinethese
materials. Put in philosophical terminology:all ourideas or more feeble perceptions are copies of our impressionsor more
lively ones.Here are two arguments that I hope will suffice to provethis. (1)When we analyse our thoughts or ideas—
howevercomplex or elevated they are—we always find them to bemade up of simple ideas that were copied from earlier
feelingsor sensations. Even ideas that at first glance seem to bethe furthest removed from that origin are found on
closerexamination to be derived from it. The idea of God—meaningan infinitely intelligent, wise, and good Being—
comes fromextending beyond all limits the qualities of goodness andwisdom that we find in our own minds. However far
we pushthis enquiry, we shall find that every idea that we examine iscopied from a similar impression. Those who
maintain thatthis isn’t universally true and that there are exceptions to ithave only one way of refuting it—but it should be
easy forthem, if they are right. They need merely to produce an ideathat they thinkisn’tderived from this source. It will
thenbe up to me, if I am to maintain my doctrine, to point to theimpression or lively perception that corresponds to the
ideathey have produced.(2)If a man can’t have some kind of sensation becausethere is something wrong with his eyes,
ears etc., he willnever be found to have corresponding ideas. A blind mancan’t form a notion of colours, or a deaf man a
notion ofsounds. If either is cured of his deafness or blindness, sothat the sensations can get through to him, the ideas
canthen get through as well; and then he will find it easy toconceive these objects. The same is true for someone
whohas never experienced an object that will give a certain kindof sensation: a Laplander or Negro has no notion of
the8
First EnquiryDavid Hume2: The origin of ideastaste of wine·because he has never had the sensation oftasting wine·.
Similarly with inward feelings. It seldom if everhappens that a person hasneverfelt or iswhollyincapableof some human
feeling or emotion, but the phenomenon I amdescribing does occur with feelings as well, though in lesserdegree. A
gentle person can’t form any idea of determinedrevenge or cruelty; nor can a selfish one easily conceive theheights of
friendship and generosity. Everyone agrees thatnon-human beings may have many senses of which we canhave no
conception, because the ideas of them have neverbeen introduced to us in the only way in which an ideacan get into the
mind, namely through actual feeling andsensation.(There is, however, one counter-example that may provethat it isn’t
absolutely impossible for an idea to occur withouta corresponding impression. I think it will be granted that thevarious
distinct ideas of colour that enter the mind throughthe eye (or those of sound, which come in through the ear)really are
different from each other, though they resembleone another in certain respects. If that holds for differentcolours, it must
hold equally for the different shades of asingle colour; so each shade produces a distinct idea, inde-pendent of the rest.
(We can create a continuous gradationof shades, running from red at one end to green at the other,with each member
of the series shading imperceptibly intoits neighbour. If the immediate neighbours in the sequenceare not different from
one another, then red is not differentfrom green, which is absurd.) Now, suppose that a sightedperson has become
perfectly familiar with colours of all kinds,except for one particular shade of blue (for instance), whichhe happens never
to have met with. Let all the other shadesof blue be placed before him, descending gradually from thedeepest to the
lightest: it is obvious that he will notice ablank in the place where the missing shade should go. Thatis, he will be aware
that there is a greater quality-distancebetween that pair of neighbouring shades than between anyother neighbour-pair
in the series. Can he fill the blank fromhis own imagination, calling up in his mind the idea of thatparticular shade, even
though it has never been conveyed tohim by his senses? Most people, I think, will agree that hecan. This seems to
show that simple ideas are not always,in every instance, derived from corresponding impressions.Still, the example is
so singular[Hume’s word]that it’s hardlyworth noticing, and on its own it isn’t a good enough reasonfor us to alter our
general maxim.)So here is a proposition that not only seems to be simpleand intelligible in itself, but could if properly
used make everydispute equally intelligible by banishing all that nonsensicaljargon that has so long dominated
metaphysical reasonings.All ideas, especially abstract ones, are naturally faint andobscure, so that the mind has only a
weak hold on them.Ideas are apt to be mixed up with other ideas that resemblethem. We tend to assume that a given
word is associatedwith a determinate idea just because we have used it sooften, even if in using it we haven’t had any
distinct meaningfor it. In contrast with this, all our impressions—i.e. all ouroutward or inward sensations—are strong and
vivid. Theboundaries between them are more exactly placed, and it isharder to make mistakes about them. So when we
come tosuspect that a philosophical term is being used without anymeaning or idea (as happens all too often), we need
only toask: From what impression is that supposed idea derived?If none can be pointed out, that will confirm our
suspicion·that the term is meaningless, i.e. has no associated idea·.By bringing ideas into this clear light we may
reasonablyhope to settle any disputes that arise about whether theyexist and what they are like.STAR T OF A BIG
FOOTNOTE