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On the Nature of the Self

David Hume ยท A Treatise of Human Nature, Book I

There are some philosophers who imagine we are every moment intimately conscious of what we call our self. They believe we feel its existence and its continuance in existence with the utmost certainty. But for my part, when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always stumble on some particular perception or other: of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at any time without a perception, and can never observe any thing but the perception.

Some philosophers seem inclined to think that personal identity is a very clear notion, and that a dispute concerning it would be frivolous. Yet if we examine their hypothesis closely, we shall find that, far from resolving the difficulty, they involve themselves in it more than those who candidly avow their ignorance. Every object naturally preserves its identity with itself through any change of place or time, provided it be the same object, indivisible and not composed of parts. But when we attribute identity to the human mind, we can only mean to assert a relation among objects that are mutually connected by the tie of resemblance, contiguity, or causation.

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