hs founded on
history and experience. There is nothing but the feeling, or sentiment,
to distinguish the one from the other.

This, therefore, being regarded as an undoubted truth, that belief is
nothing but a peculiar feeling, different from the simple conception,
the next question, that naturally occurs, is, what is the nature of
this feeling, or sentiment, and whether it be analogous to any other
sentiment of the human mind? This question is important. For if it be
not analogous to any other sentiment, we must despair of explaining its
causes, and must consider it as an original principle of the human mind.
If it be analogous, we may hope to explain its causes from analogy,
and trace it up to more general principles. Now that there is a greater
firmness and solidity in the conceptions, which are the objects of
conviction and assurance, than in the loose and indolent reveries of
a castle-builder, every one will readily own. They strike upon us with
more force; they are more present to us; the mind has a firmer hold of
them, and is more actuated and moved by them. It acquiesces in them;
and, in a manner, fixes and reposes itself on them. In short, they
approach nearer to the impressions, which are immediately present to us;
and are therefore analogous to many other operations of the mind.

There is not, in my opinion, any possibility of evading this conclusion,
but by asserting, that belief, beside the simple conception, consists in
some impression or feeling, distinguishable from the conception. It does
not modify the conception, and render it more present and intense: It
is only annexed to it, after the same manner that will and desire
are annexed to particular conceptions of good and pleasure. But the
following considerations will, I hope, be sufficient to remove this
hypothesis. First, It is directly contrary to experience, and our
immediate consciousness. All men have ever allowed reasoning to be
merely an operation of our thoughts or ideas; and however those ideas
may be varied to the feeling, there is nothing ever enters into our
conclusions but ideas, or our fainter conceptions. For instance; I hear
at present a person's voice, whom I am acquainted with; and this sound
comes from the next room. This impression of my senses immediately
conveys my thoughts to the person, along with all the surrounding
objects. I paint them out to myself as existent at present, with the
same qualities and relations, that I former