The persons, who entertain this opinion concerning the identity of
our resembling perceptions, are in general an the unthinking and
unphilosophical part of mankind, (that is, all of us, at one time or
other) and consequently such as suppose their perceptions to be their
only objects, and never think of a double existence internal and
external, representing and represented. The very image, which is present
to the senses, is with us the real body; and it is to these interrupted
images we ascribe a perfect identity. But as the interruption of the
appearance seems contrary to the identity, and naturally leads us to
regard these resembling perceptions as different from each other, we
here find ourselves at a loss how to reconcile such opposite opinions.
The smooth passage of the imagination along the ideas of the resembling
perceptions makes us ascribe to them a perfect identity. The interrupted
manner of their appearance makes us consider them as so many resembling,
but still distinct beings, which appear after certain intervals. The
perplexity arising from this contradiction produces a propension to
unite these broken appearances by the fiction of a continued existence,
which is the third part of that hypothesis I proposed to explain.
Nothing is more certain from experience, than that any contradiction
either to the sentiments or passions gives a sensible uneasiness,
whether it proceeds from without or from within; from the opposition
of external objects, or from the combat of internal principles. On the
contrary, whatever strikes in with the natural propensities, and either
externally forwards their satisfaction, or internally concurs with their
movements, is sure to give a sensible pleasure. Now there being here an
opposition betwixt the notion of the identity of resembling perceptions,
and the interruption of their appearance, the mind must be uneasy in
that situation, and will naturally seek relief from the uneasiness.
Since the uneasiness arises from the opposition of two contrary
principles, it must look for relief by sacrificing the one to the
other. But as the smooth passage of our thought along our resembling
perceptions makes us ascribe to them an identity, we can never without
reluctance yield up that opinion. We must, therefore, turn to the other
side, and suppose that our perceptions are no longer interrupted, but
preserve a continued as well as an invariable existence, and are by that
means entirely the same. But here the interruptions in the appearance
of these perceptions are so long and frequent, that it is impossible to
overlook them; and as the appearance of a perception in the mind and
its existence seem at first sight entirely the same, it may be doubted,
whether we can ever assent to so palpable a contradiction, and suppose a
perception to exist without being present to the mind. In order to clear
up this matter, and learn how the interruption in the appearance of a