fit. Whereupon I thought it convenient to advertise the reader, that befides feveral corrections I had made here and there, there was one alteration which it was neceflary to mention, because it ran through the whole book, and is of confequence to be rightly understood. What I thereupon faid, was this.

Clear and distinct ideas are terms, which though familiar and frequent in mens mouths, I have reafon to think every one who uses, does not perfectly underftand; and poffibly it is but here and there one, who gives himself the trouble to confider them fo far as to know what he himself or others precifely mean by them: I have therefore in most places chose to put determinate or determined, instead of clear and diftinct, as more likely to direct mens thoughts to my meaning in this matter. By thofe denominations, I mean fome object in the mind, and confequently determined, i. e. fuch as it is there feen and perceived to be. This, I think, may fitly be called a determinate or determined idea, when fuch as it is at any time objectively in the mind, and fo de termined there, it is annexed, and without variation determined to a name or articulate found, which is to be fteadily the fign of that very fame object of the mind, or determinate idea.

To explain this a little more particularly. By determinate, when applied to a fimple idea, I mean that fimple appearance which the mind has in its view, or perceives in itself, when that idea is faid to be in it; by determined, when applied to a complex idea, I mean fuch an one as confifts of a determinate number of certain fimple or lefs complex ideas, joined in fuch a proportion and fituation, as the mind has before its view, and fees in itfelf when that idea is prefent in it, or should be present in it, when a man gives a name to it. I fay fhould be ; because it is not every one, nor perhaps any one, who is fo careful of his language, as to ufe no word, till he views in his mind the precife determined idea, which he refolves to make it the fign of. The want of this, is the cause of no fmall obfcurity and confufion in mens thoughts and difcourfes.

ས ་ས་

...I know there are not words enough in any language, to answer all the variety of ideas, that enter into mens difcourfes and reafonings. But this hinders not, but that when any one ufes any term, he may have in his mind a determined idea, which he makes it the fign of, and to which he fhould keep it fteadily annexed, during that prefent difcourfe. Where he does not, or cannot do this, he in vain pretends to clear or diftinct ideas: It is plain his are not fo; and therefore there can be expected nothing but obfcurity and confufion, where fuch terms are made ufe of, which have not such a precise determination.

Upon this ground I have thought determined ideas a way of fpeaking lefs liable to mistake, than clear and dif tinet; and where men have got fuch determined ideas of all that they reason, inquire, or argue about, they will find a great part of their doubts and difputes at an end. The greatest part of the questions and controverfies that perplex mankind, depending on the doubtful and uncertain ufe of words, or (which is the fame), indetermined ideas, which they are made to ftand for; I have made choice of these terms to fignify, 1. Some immediate object of the mind, which it perceives and has before it, diftinct from the found it uses as a fign of it. 2. That this idea, thus determined, i. e. which the mind has in itfelf, and knows and fees there, be determined without any change to that name, and that name determined to that precife idea. If men had fuch determined ideas in their inquiries and difcourfes, they would both difcern how far their own inquiries and difcourfes went, and avoid the greatest part of the difputes and wranglings they have with others.

Besides this, the bookfeller will think it neceffary I fhould advertise the reader, that there is an addition of two chapters wholly new; the one of the Affociation of Ideas, the other of Enthufiafm. Thefe, with fome other larger additions never before printed, he has engaged to print by themselves after the fame manner, and for the fame purpose, as was done when this Effay had the fecond impreffion.

THE

LIFE OF THE AUTHOR,

MR

R. JOHN LOCKE was the fon of John Locke of Pensford, in Somersetshire. He was born at Wrington, seven or eight miles from Bristol, and, ac cording to the parish-regifter, baptifed the 29th of August 1632. His father was heir to a much greater eftate than he left behind him, and was a captain in the Parliament's army during the civil wars under King Charles I. It is poffible that he lost part of his eftate through the misfortunes of the war; for our author always spoke of his father with great respect, as a man of ftrict probity and fobriety. Though his parents married very young, they had but two children, of whom John, the fubject of thefe memoirs, was the elder. The younger fon died of a confumption in his minority, Mr. Locke's father took great care of him in his education, and obferved a method of conduct towards him, which his fon often mentioned with great approbation. He kept him at a great distance while he was a child; but as he grew up, he used him with more familiarity, till at last they lived together, rather as friends, than as two perfons, one of whom might justly claim respect from the other. Our author began his ftudies in Weft

minster school, where he continued till the year. 1651; and from thence was fent to Chrift-Church college in Oxford. He took the degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1655, and that of Mafter in 1658. But though he made this progrefs in the ufual courfe of ftudies at that time, yet he often faid, that what he had learned there was of little ufe to him, to enlighten and enlarge his mind. The firft books which gave him a relish for the ftudy of philofophy, were the writings of Des Cartes; for though he did not always approve of his fentiments, he found that he wrote with great perfpicuity. After fome time, he applied himfelf very clofely to the ftudy of medicine; not with any defign of practising as a phyfician, but principally for the benefit of his own confti.. tution, which was but weak. And we find he gained. fuch efteem for his fkill, even amongst the most learned of the Faculty of his time, that Dr. Thomas Sydenham, in his book intituled, "Obfervationes medicæ circa "morborum acutorum, hiftoriam, et curationem," gives him a high encomium, in these words: "You know," fays he, likewife, how much my method has been ap"proved of, by a person who has examined it to the «bottom, and who is our common friend, I mean Mr. John Locke; who, if we confider his genius, and

penetrating and exact judgment, or the purity of his "morals, has fcarce any fuperior, and few equals, now «living." Hence he was very often faluted by his acquaintance with the title, though he never took the degree, of Doctor of Medicine*. In the year 1664, Sir William Swan being appointed envoy from the English court to the Elector of Brandenburg, and fome other German princes, Mr. Locke attended him in the qua lity of his fecretary; but returning to England again within the year, he applied himself with great vigour

After the preface of Dr. Sydenham's book, follow fome Latin ele. giac verfes of Mr. Locke's, which are full of wit and invention: but the ftyle is not accurate and poetical. He had too little eteem for the poets to spend much time in reading them, and to take much pains in imitating them. He fubicribes there veries in this manner: J. Locke, Artium Magifter, ex Æde Curuti, Oaon.'

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to his ftudies, and particularly to that of natural philofophy".

While he was at Oxford in 1666, he became acquainted with the Lord Afhley, afterwards Earl of Shaftesbury. The occafion of their acquaintance was this: Lord Athley, by a fall, had hurt his breaft in fuch a manner, that there was an abfcefs formed in it under his ftomach. He was advised to drink the mineral waters at Aftrop, which engaged him to write to Dr. Thomas, a physician of Oxford, to procure a quantity of thefe waters, which might be ready against his ar rival. Dr. Thomas, being obliged to be abfent from Oxford at that time, defired his friend Mr. Locke to execute this commiffion. But it happened that the waters not being ready the day after the Lord Afhley's arrival, through the fault of the perfon who had been fent for them, Mr. Locke was obliged to wait on his Lordship, to make an excufe for it. Lord Athley received him with great civility, according to his ufual manner, and was fatisfied with his excufes. Upon his ring to go away, his Lordship, who had already received great pleasure from his conversation, detained him to fupper, and engaged him to dine with him the next day, and even to drink the waters, that he might have the more of his company. When his Lordship left Oxford to go to Sunning Hill, where he drank the waters, he made Mr. Locke promise to come thither; as he did in the fummer of the year 1667. Lord Ashley afterwards returned, and obliged him to promifc that he would come and lodge at his houfe. Mr. Locke went thither; and though he had never practifed phyfic, his Lordfhip confided entirely in his advice, with regard to the operation which was to be performed by opening the abfcefs in his breaft; which faved his life, though

This appears from the journal which he kept of the changes of the air, from the 24th of June 1666 to the 28th of March 1667; for the regular oblervation of which he used a barometer, thermometer, and hygroscope. This journal may be feen in "The general history of "the air," published by Mr. Boyle in 1692.