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 LI 
 
METAPHYSICAL TRACTS 
 
 BY 
 
 ENGLISH PHILOSOPHERS 
 
 OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 CONSISTING OF 
 
 1. CLAVIS UNIVERSALIS; 
 
 2. A SPECIMEN OF TRUE PHILOSOPHY; 
 BY ARTHUR COLLIER. 
 
 3. CONJECTURE QUEDAM DE SENSU, MOTU, 
 
 ET IDEARUM GENERATIONE ; 
 
 4. AN INQUIRY INTO THE ORIGIN OF HUMAN 
 
 APPETITES AND AFFECTIONS; 
 
 5. MAN IN QUEST OF HIMSELF. 
 
 PREPARED FOR THE PRESS BY THE LATE 
 
 REV. SAMUEL 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 EDWARD LUMLEY, 56 CHANCERY LANE. 
 
 1837. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THE present volume, prepared for the press by the late 
 Dr. Parr, was nearly ready for publication when that 
 learned person died. Except the doctor's own copy, now 
 in the library of Mr. Swanston, of the Chancery bar, the 
 whole impression wanted the 141st page at the end of 
 Collier's tracts, as well as those from page 208 of " Man 
 in quest of Himself," to the end. However, by the liber- 
 ality of Mr. Swanston, this defect has been remedied. 
 The proprietor was induced to purchase the work thus 
 left by Dr. Parr, being about to publish " Memoirs of 
 Arthur Collier," the author of the first two tracts in the 
 collection. As to the authors of the third and fifth tracts, 
 they were doubtless David Hartley and Abraham Tucker 
 respectively. By whom the fourth was penned, he has 
 hitherto failed to discover : he thinks, however, that it 
 probably was written by a Cambridge man and a resident 
 of Lincoln, or the neighbourhood; and he infers this 
 from the dedication, in which Cambridge is made to pre- 
 cede Oxford, as well as from the tract having been ori- 
 ginally printed at Lincoln. The proprietor regrets that 
 the printing and the paper are of an inferior kind, and 
 that there are many typographical errors which need 
 correction : he, however, in some degree consoles himself 
 for these defects, by considering, that he is enabled to 
 offer to the reader, at a moderate price, a volume of tracts, 
 
IV ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 of which several have been hitherto of great rarity, and 
 eagerly sought after by the studious, which he could never 
 have done had he reprinted the book ; and that the 
 readers of the present work are not likely to stand in 
 need of a table of errata. 
 
 E. L. 
 
 56 Chancery Lane, 
 March 2, 1837. 
 
CLAV1S UNIVERSALIS: 
 
 OR, A 
 
 New Inquiry after TRUTH, 
 
 BEING 
 
 A DEMONSTRATION 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Non-Existence, or Impossibility, 
 
 OF AN 
 
 EXTEMNAJL 
 
 & OP THE ^ 
 
 THTIVEKSITY 
 
 By ARTH. COLLIER, 
 
 RECTOR OF LANGFORD MAGNA, NEAR SARU&I. 
 
 Assensus 8? Approbatio circa Materiam Difficilem est certwn 
 Argumentum Falsitatis istius Opinionis cui Assentitur. 
 
 Mr. Maleb. De Inquir. Verit. L?b. iii. P, 194. 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 Printed for ROBERT GOSLING, at the Mitre and Crown againft 
 St. Dunftan's Church in Fleet-ftreet. 1715. 
 
THE 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 THE INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Wherein the question in general is explained and 
 stated* and the whole subject divided into two 
 particular heads page 1 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Chap. I. Wherein the first question is considered, 
 viz. Whether the visible world is external or 
 not . - - 
 
 Sect. I. That the seeming Externeity of a vi- 
 sible object, is no argument of its real ex- 
 terneity ... - 10 
 
 Sect. II. That a visible object, as such, is not 
 
 external - 20 
 
 Chap. II. Objections answered 31 
 
 PART II. 
 
 That there is no external world, and that 
 an external world is a being utterly impos- 
 sible - - - - - - 40 
 
iv] TtfE CONTENTS. 
 
 Chap. I. Argument L - 40 
 
 Chap. II. Argument II. - 43 
 
 Chap. III. Argument III. 46 
 
 Chap. IV. Argument IV. - 50 
 
 Chap. V. Argument V. 58 
 
 Chap. VI. Argument VI. - 62 
 
 Chap. VII. Argument VII. 65 
 
 Chap. VIII. Argument VIII. - 70 
 
 Chap. IX. Argument IX. - 71 
 
 Chap. X. Objections answered - - 76 
 
 The conclusion of the whole, 
 Of the use and consequences of the foregoing 
 
 treatise - - - 89 
 
 THE 
 
Q? 
 
 I7T3R3XTY' 
 
 THE 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 Wherein the Question in general is explained and 
 stated, and the whole subject divided into two 
 particular heads. 
 
 HOUGH I am verily persuaded, that in 
 the whole course of the following treatise, I shall 
 or can have no other adversary, but prejudice; yet, 
 having by me no mechanical engine proper to re- 
 move it; nor, being able to invent any other me- 
 thod of attacking it, besides that of fair reason and 
 argument; rather than the world should finish its 
 course without once offering to enquire in what 
 manner it exists, (and for one reason more, which 
 I need not name, unless the end desired were more 
 hopeful;) I am at last, after a ten years pause and 
 deliberation, content to put myself upon the trial 
 of the common reader, without pretending to any 
 better art of gaining him on my side, than that of 
 dry reason and metaphysical demonstration. 
 
 The question I am concerned about is in general 
 this, whether there be any such thing as an external 
 world. And my title will suffice to inform my 
 reader, that the negative of this question is the 
 point I am to demonstrate. 
 
 In order to which, Jet us first explain the terms. 
 Accordingly, by world, I mean whatsoever is usu- 
 ally understood by the terms, body, extension, 
 space, matter, quantity, &c. if there be any other 
 word in our english tongue, which is synonimous 
 with all or any of these terms. And now nothing 
 remains but the explication of the word external. 
 
 A 
 
By this, in general, I understand the same as is 
 usually understood by the words, absolute, self- 
 existent, independent, &c. and this is what I deny 
 of all matter, body, extension, &c. 
 
 If this, you will say, be all that I mean by the 
 word external, I am like to meet with no adversary 
 at all, for who has ever affirmed, that matter is self- 
 existent, absolute or independent ? 
 
 To this I answer, what others hold, or have held 
 in times past, I shall not here inquire. On the 
 contrary, I should be glad to find by the event, 
 that all mankind were agreed in that which I con- 
 tend for as the truth, viz. that matter is not, can- 
 not be independent, absolute, or self-existent. Irt 
 the mean time, whether they are so or no, will be 
 tried by this. 
 
 Secondly, and more particularly, that by not 
 independent, not absolutely existent, not external, 
 I mean and contend for nothing less, than that all 
 matter, body, extension, &c. exists in, or in de- 
 pendence on mind, thought, or perception, and that 
 it is not capable of an existence, which is not thus 
 dependant. 
 
 This perhaps may awaken another to demand of 
 me how ? to which I as readily answer, just how 
 my reader pleases, provided it be somehow. As 
 for instance, we usually say, an accident exists in, 
 or in dependence on, its proper subject ; and that 
 its very essence, or reality of its existence, is so to 
 exist. Will this pass for an explication of my as- 
 sertion ? if so, I am content to stand by it, in this 
 sense of the words. Again, we usually say, (and 
 fancy too we know what we mean in saying,) 
 that a body exists in, and also in dependance on, 
 its proper place, so as to exist necessarily in some 
 place or other. Will this description of dependance 
 please my inquisitive reader ? If so, I am content 
 to join issue with him, and contend that all matter 
 
( 5 ) 
 
 exists in, or as much dependantly on, mind, 
 thought, or perception, to the full, as any body 
 exists in place. Nay, I hold the description to be 
 so just and apposite, as if a man should say, a 
 thing is like itself: for I suppose I need not tell 
 my reader, that when I affirm that all matter ex- 
 ists in mind, after the same manner as body exists 
 in place, I mean the very same as if I had said, 
 that mind itself is the place of body, and so its 
 place, as that it is not capable of existing in any 
 other place, or in place after any other manner. 
 Again, lastly, it is a common saying, that an object 
 of perception exists in, or in dependance on, its 
 respective faculty. And of these objects, there are 
 many who will reckon with me, light, sounds, 
 colours, and even some material things, such as 
 trees, houses, &c, which are seen, as we say, in a 
 looking-glass, but which are, or ought to be owned 
 to have no existence but in, or respectively on, the 
 minds or faculties of those who perceive them. But 
 to please all parties at once, I affirm that I know 
 of no manner, in which an object of perception 
 exists in, or on, its respective faculty, which I will 
 not admit in this place, to be a just description of 
 that manner of in-existence, after which all matter 
 that exists, is affirmed by me to exist in mind. 
 Nevertheless, were I to speak my mind freely, I 
 should chuse to compare it to the in-existence of 
 some, rather than some other objects of perception, 
 particularly such as are objects of the sense of 
 vision; and of these, those more especially, which 
 are allowed by others, to exist wholly in the mind 
 or visive faculty j such as objects seen in a look- 
 ing glass, by men distempered, light-headed, ec- 
 static, &c. where not only colours, but intire bodies, 
 are perceived or seen. For these cases are exactly 
 parallel, with that existence which I affirm of all 
 matter, body, or extension whatsoever. 
 
Having endeavoured, in as distinct terms as I 
 can, to give my reader notice of what I mean by 
 the proposition I have undertaken the defence of, 
 it will be requisite in the next place, to declare in 
 as plain terms, what I do not mean by it. 
 
 Accordingly, I declare in the first place, that 
 in affirming that there is no external world, I make 
 no doubt or question of the existence of bodies, 
 or whether the bodies which are seen exist or not. 
 It is with me a first principle, that whatsoever is 
 seen, is* To deny, or doubt of this, is errant 
 scepticism, and at once unqualifies a man for any 
 part or office of a disputant, or philosopher; so 
 that it will be remembered from this time, that my 
 enquiry is not concerning the existence, but alto- 
 gether concerning the extra-existence of certain 
 things or objects ; or, in other words, what I af- 
 firm and contend for, is not that bodies do not 
 exist, or that the external world does not exist, 
 but that such and such bodies, which are supposed 
 to exist, do not exist externally; or in universal 
 terms, that there is no such thing as an external 
 world. 
 
 Secondly, I profess and declare, that notwith- 
 standing this my assertion, I am persuaded that I 
 see all bodies just as other folks do ; that is, the 
 visible world is seen by me, or, which is the same, 
 seems to me to be as much external or independ- 
 ant, as to its existence, on my mind, self, or visive 
 faculty, as any visible object does, or can be pre- 
 tended to do or be, to any other person. I have 
 neither, as I know of, another nature, nor another 
 knack of seeing objects, different from other per- 
 sons, suitable to the hypothesis of their existence 
 "which I here contend for. So far from this, that I 
 believe, and am very sure, that this seeming, or (as 
 I shall desire leave to call it) quasi externeity of visi- 
 ble objects, is not only the eflect of the will of God, 
 
(as it is his will that light and colours should seem 
 to be without the soul, that heat should seem to be 
 in the fire, pain in the hand, &c.) but also that it is 
 a natural and necessary condition of their visibility ; 
 I would say, that though God should be supposed 
 to make a world, or any one visible object, which 
 is granted to be not external, yet by the condition 
 of its being seen, it would, and must be quasi 
 external to the perceptive faculty ; as much so to 
 the full, as. is any material object usually seen in 
 this visible world. 
 
 Moreover, thirdly, when I affirm that all matter 
 exists dependantly on mind, I am sure my reader 
 will allow me to say, I do not mean by this, that 
 matter or bodies exist in bodies. As for instance, 
 when I affirm or say, that the world, which I see 
 exists in my mind, I cannot be supposed to mean 
 that one body exists in another, or that all the 
 bodies which I see exist in that, which common 
 use has taught me to call my body. I must needs 
 desire to have this remembered, because experience 
 has taught me how apt persons are, or will be, to 
 mistake me in this particular. 
 
 Fourthly, when 1 affirm that this or that visible 
 object exists in, or dependantly on, my mind, or 
 perceptive faculty, I must desire to be understood 
 to mean no more than I say, by the words mind 
 and perceptive faculty. In like manner I would 
 be understood, when I affirm in general, that all 
 matter or body exists in, or dependantly on, mind. 
 I say this to acquit myself from the imputation of 
 holding, that the mind causes its own ideas, or 
 objects of perception ; or, lest any one by a mis- 
 take should fancy that I affirm, that matter depends 
 for its existence on the will of man, or any creature 
 whatsoever. But now, if any such mistake should 
 arise in another's mind, he has wherewith to rect- 
 ify it -, in as much as I assure him, that by mind, 
 
( 6 ) 
 
 I mean that part, or act, or faculty of the soul, 
 which is distinguished by the name intellective, or 
 perceptive, as in exclusion of that other part which 
 is distinguished by the term will. 
 
 Fifthly, when I affirm that all matter exists in 
 mind, or that no matter is external, I do not mean, 
 that the world, or any visible object of it, which I 
 (for instance) see, is dependant on the mind of 
 any other person besides myself; or that the world, 
 or matter, which any other person sees, is depend- 
 ant on mine, or any other person's mind, or faculty 
 of perception. On the contrary, I contend as well 
 as grant, that the world which John sees is external 
 to Peter, and the world which Peter sees is external 
 to John. That is, I hold the thing to be the same 
 in this, as in any other case of sensation ; for in- 
 stance, that of sound. Here two or more persons, 
 who are present at a concert of music, may indeed 
 in some sense be said to hear the same notes or 
 melody ; but yet the truth is, that the sound which 
 one hears, is not the very same with the sound 
 which another hears, because the souls or persons 
 are supposed to be different; and therefore, the 
 sound which Peter hears, is external to, or inde- 
 pendant on the soul of John, and that which John 
 hears, is external to the soul or person of Peter. 
 
 Lastly, when I affirm that no matter is altogether 
 external, but necessarily exists in some mind or 
 other, exemplified and distinguished by the proper 
 names of John, Peter, &c. I have no design to 
 affirm, that every part or particle of matter, which 
 does or can exist, must needs exist in some created 
 mind or other. On the contrary, I believe that 
 infinite worlds might exist, though not one single 
 created, (or rather merely created,) mind were 
 ever in being. And as in fact there are thousands 
 and ten thousands, I believe, and I even contend, 
 that there is an universe, or material world in being, 
 
( 7 ) 
 
 which is, at least, numerically different from every 
 material world perceived by mere creatures. By this, 
 I mean the great mundane idea of created (or rather 
 twice created) matter, by which all things are pro- 
 duced ; or rather, (as my present subject leads me 
 to speak,) by which the great God gives sensations 
 to all his thinking creatures, and by which things 
 that are not, are preserved, and ordered in the same 
 manner as if they were. 
 
 And now I presume and hope, that my meaning 
 is sufficiently understood, when I affirm, that all 
 matter which exists, exists in, or dependantly on, 
 mind ; or, that there is no such thing as an exter- 
 nal world. 
 
 Nevertheless, after all the simplicity to which 
 this question seems already to be reduced, I find 
 myself necessitated to divide it into two. For, in 
 Order to prove that there is no external world, it 
 must needs be one article to shew that the visible 
 world is not external, and when this is done, though 
 in this all be indeed done, which relates to any opi- 
 nion yet maintained by men, yet something still is 
 \vanting towards a full demonstration of the point 
 at large, and to come up to the universal terms, in 
 which the question is expressed. 
 
 Accordingly, I shall proceed in this order. First 
 to shew, that the visible world is not external. Se- 
 condly, to demonstrate more at large, or simply, 
 that an external world is a being utterly impossible. 
 Which two shall be the subjects of two distinct 
 parts or books. 
 
 PART 
 
( 8 ) 
 
 PART L 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 
 Wherein the first question is considered, viz. Whether 
 the visible World is external or not. 
 
 FIR: 
 
 ,ST, then, I affirm that the visible world 
 is not external. By the visible world, I mean every 
 material object, which is, or has been, or can be 
 seen. I say can be seen, (which is the import of 
 the word visible,) in order to comprehend whatever 
 worlds there are, or may be conceived to be, (besides 
 that which we see who live on this earth,) whether 
 planetary, celestial, or supercelestial worlds. Be 
 they what, or how many they will, supposing they are 
 visible, that is, actually seen by some particular souls 
 or other, they are all understood and comprehended 
 within the notion of the visible world : for my sub- 
 ject leads me to affirm, that a visible world, as vi- 
 sible, is not external. Some perhaps will be apt to 
 prevent my inquiry, by urging that it is not capable 
 of being a question, whether the visible world be 
 external or not; it being self-evident, that a visible 
 object, as visible or seen, is and must be exter- 
 nal ; that an object's being seen as external, is a 
 simple and direct proof of its being really external ; 
 and consequently that there is no foundation for 
 the distinction between the quasi and real exter- 
 neity of a visible object, which I laid down in my 
 introduction. 
 
 I answer, then indeed I am blown up at once, 
 if there be any truth or consequence in the objec- 
 tion. But the best of it is, that I had never any 
 design to palm this distinction upon my reader gra- 
 tis, foreseeing it might stick with him. Nevertheless, 
 
( 9 ) 
 
 he must allow me the common benefit of words, 
 whereby to explain my meaning ; and this was all 
 the liberty I presumed upon, in premising that 
 distinction. Whether the seeming externeity of a 
 visible object, be indeed an argument of its real 
 externeity, I leave to be proved by all those who 
 will affirm it. However, it cannot be denied, but 
 that it is capable of being a question. For though 
 the truth, (or fact) be against me, yet visible ob- 
 jects seern to be external ; and herein we all agree ; 
 'so that one member of the distinction is allowed 
 by all to be good. If so, what should hinder it 
 from being a fair question, whether this seeming be 
 an argument of its real externeity ? For my own 
 part, I am far from taking it for granted, that this 
 distinction is good, or built upon real facts, (though 
 every one must allow the distinction to be good in 
 general between real and apparent,) for this would 
 be to take a main part of the last question for 
 granted. But then, on the other hand, it cannot 
 be expected that I should admit an adversary to 
 take it for granted, that this distinction (with re- 
 gard to visible objects) is not good; in other 
 words, that there is no difference in the thing, be- 
 tween seeming and real externeity, or between 
 visible and external. For this would be to grant 
 away at once the whole matter I am concerned for. 
 If therefore another would have me grant or allow 
 this, let him fairly set himself to shew, wherein lies 
 the connection between these two different terms, 
 or prove what is affirmed in the objection, namely, 
 that a visible object, as visible or seen, is and must 
 be external. Here, the least thing to be expected 
 is, that he point or single out one visible object, 
 which is allowed, or may be plainly proved to be 
 external. In the mean time, or till something of 
 this kind be attempted by another, all must allow 
 
( 10 ) 
 
 me the liberty of doubting, whether there be any 
 such connection or not 5 at least bear with me, 
 whilst I am content to prove that there is no such 
 connection. 
 
 Let this then be the first step by which I rise to 
 my last conclusion; namely, to shew, that the seem- 
 ing externeity of a visible object, is no argument of 
 its real externeity. Or, in other words, that a visi- 
 ble object may exist h), or depen< -antly on, the mind 
 of him that seeth it, notwithstanding that it is seen, 
 and is allowed to seem to be external to, or inde- 
 pendant on it. 
 
 SEC T. I. 
 
 That the seeming externeity of a visible object, is no 
 argument of its real externeity. 
 
 TO show this, I think the best way will be 
 by instances, or an induction of particular objects, 
 which, though they seem as much to be external, 
 as any objects whatsoever, yet are, or must needs 
 be granted, to be not external. These, to speak as 
 orderly as I can, shall be divided into two sorts, 
 possibles and actuals. 
 
 By actuals are meant certain instances of per- 
 ception, which are ordinary and usual, or which, 
 at least, have been in fact. And by possibles are 
 meant certain instances of perception, which have 
 never indeed been fact, bat which need nothing 
 but an increase of power, to make tham so at any 
 time. And, 
 
 First, for the last of these, viz. of possible in- 
 stances of perception; where the object perceived 
 is allowed to be not external, though it appears to 
 be as much so as any objects whatsoever. Of this 
 
( 11 \ 
 
 sort I shall mention two, and that according to 
 their degrees of actuality. And, 
 
 First, for that which is the least actual of the 
 two, which shall be an instance of a man's per- 
 ceiving a creature, which has not so much as in its 
 kind, existed externally; (supposing here for the 
 present that some things have so existed;) I mean, 
 one of those they usually call chimaera's. Of these 
 there are distinctions and names, of which one is 
 centaur. 
 
 A centaur, is an ens or being, partly horse, and 
 partly man : a mere fiction of poets or painters; 
 that is, a creature which has never existed, or been 
 seen, any otherwise than in imagination. But in 
 imagination it has, or is supposed to have been 
 seen, and as such it has existed, and does or may 
 continually exist. 
 
 Well now,- let some particular person be sup- 
 posed, in whose mind or imagination, a centaur 
 does, this instant exist ; and let his name be called 
 Apelles. Apelies then perceives a centaur, and 
 that vividly or distinctly enough to draw the pic- 
 ture of it, or describe its shape and proportions 
 with his pencil. 
 
 These things supposed, I demand how does this 
 centaur seem to Apelles ? Either as within or with- 
 out him, whilst he fixes the eye ot his mind upon 
 it, so as to describe it ? For an answer to this 
 question, I appeal to every person living, whether 
 an object of imagination does not seem or appear 
 to be as much external to the mind, which sees it, 
 as any object whatsoever j that is as any of those 
 which are called objects of vision. If so, I might 
 here observe, that we have already one instance of 
 an object perceived, which, as perceived, is seen as 
 without, yet is indeed not so, but altogether exist- 
 ent in, or dependant on, the mind that perceives it. 
 But I am content to suppose that it will be urged to 
 
( 12 ) 
 
 me, that this is not an instance to the intended 
 purpose, which was not concerning imagination, 
 but sense, and particularly that of vision. Well, 
 I submit to the charge of fact, lest I should seem 
 too rigorous, and so overstrain my point : but then 
 my reader will agree with me in the conclusion I 
 contend for, if from this very instance I shew him 
 a like possible case of vision, wherein the object 
 perceived is not external. 
 
 In speaking of possibles, allowed to be such, I 
 have all power at my command, or the liberty of 
 supposing the power of God himself to produce 
 effects for me. Suppose then an almighty power 
 ready at hand to produce this imagined centaur 
 into an object of vision ; what is to be done in this 
 case, or to this end ? Must an external centaur be 
 created that Apelles may see it? Perhaps so, but 
 is there no easier or shorter way than this for A- 
 pelles to see a centaur? Nay, but he is supposed 
 already to see a centaur, only that we do not use 
 to call it seeing, but imagining, because of the faint 
 and languid manner after which he seeth it. But 
 if this be all the difference between what we use to 
 call seeing and imagining, they may easily coin- 
 cide, without any considerable difference in the 
 object perceived, or in any thing else with which 
 we are at present concerned. For what is that 
 which is perceived or seen, when an object visible 
 is before our eyes? Why nothing that I can think 
 of but figure and colour? Well, Apelles imagines 
 or perceives a centaur -, he perceives then a certain 
 figure which we call a centaur ; he perceives it in- 
 deed in a certain languid manner, or not so vividly 
 as some objects are perceived, which greater vivid- 
 ness we use to call colour, but still he is supposed 
 to perceive a centaur. If so, add colour to this 
 perception, and the centaur which was before only 
 imagined, is now become a seen or visible object, 
 
} 
 
 THE 
 
 ;W7EHIT7H 
 
 %TFOE^ 
 
 _ 
 
 and yet still, as being the same figure or extension, 
 is as much in his mind, or as little external, as it 
 was before. 
 
 Perhaps my reader will not be content to grant 
 me, that the difference between imagination and 
 vision is only that of more and less, or, that 
 an object in one is perceived with or with such a 
 degree of colour, and in the other, either with fi- 
 gure only, or with a much less degree of colour. 
 Perhaps so ; but he will doubtless grant this, that 
 whilst Apelles imagines a centaur, God may so act 
 upon his mind, as that by degrees he shall perceive 
 it more and more distinctly or vividly, till he comes 
 to perceive it to the full as vividly as any object is 
 or can be perceived or seen. If so, I leave it with 
 them to distinguish imagination from vision any 
 otherwise than I have done, who allow not my man- 
 ner of doing it ; and in the mean time must demand 
 of them one mark or sign whereby to distinguish 
 the centaur thus vividly perceived, or supposed to 
 be perceived, from an object which they would call 
 truly visible, or seen. 
 
 The other instance which I promised to give is 
 indeed much like the former, only that the object 
 perceived, (or one like it,) is here supposed to ex- 
 ist amongst the ordinary objects of the visible 
 world ; and it is this. 
 
 When a man with his eyes shut, or at noon-day, 
 has a mind to think on the moon at full, it is cer- 
 tain he may think on it. This moon, as being 
 truly perceived, truly exists : it exists also in the 
 mind of him that seeth it, and that so really and 
 entirely, that, though every external object were 
 supposed to be annihilated, or not one besides my- 
 self had ever been created, yet still I might see or 
 imagine a moon. 
 
 Well now, suppose as before, that whilst I thus 
 imagine a moon, God should so act upon my mind 
 
( 14 ) 
 
 by insensible degrees, or otherwise, as to make this 
 imagined moon appear brighter and brighter to me, 
 till it comes to be to the full as vivid as the moon 
 supposed to be in the heavens, or as any moon 
 whatsoever. In this case, I say, we have an in- 
 stance of a visible or seen object, which, to ap- 
 pearance, is as much external as any object what- 
 soever, but is not indeed external: which therefore 
 is a demonstration that the visible externeity of an 
 object is no argument for any real externeity of it. 
 
 II. And now from possible I come to actual 
 cases, or instances of the same thing. And here, 
 
 1. The first shall be of certain other sensations, 
 or modes of sensible perception, wherein the ob- 
 jects perceived exist only in the mind, though they 
 seem to exist externally to, or independant on, it ; 
 such as sounds, smells, tastes, heat, pain, pleasure, 
 &e. 
 
 If any one doubts whether these things be with- 
 in or \vithout the souls or perceptive faculties of 
 those who sense them, they must excuse me if I 
 am unwilling to digress so far as to undertake the 
 proof of what I here suppose; and that partly on 
 the account of its evidence ; but I am content to 
 say chiefly, because the thing has been already 
 done often to my hands, particularly by Mr. Des 
 Cartes, Mr. Malebranch, and Mr. Norris, in several 
 parts of their much celebrated writings, whither 
 1 chuse to refer my inquisitive reader. 
 
 Supposing then that these objects of sense exist 
 truly and really in their respective faculties, I am 
 sure no one will doubt whether they do not seem to 
 exist altogether without them. For this I appeal 
 to every one's experience, and to the difficulty 
 which so many find in believing, that they do not 
 indeed exist without them. If so, we have then 
 several instances together of certain objects of 
 sense, which, notwithstanding that they seem as 
 
( 15 ) 
 
 much external as any objects whatsoever, yet 
 really and truly are not external. 
 
 " Moreover, there is of this sort a particular 
 instance often mentioned by philosophers, which 
 is very home to this purpose; arid that is, of a man's 
 feeling pain in a member which he has lost. This 
 is usually said to depend on certain motions made 
 by certain humours or animal spirits on the nerves 
 or fibres of the remaining part; but of this I make 
 no other use or account at present, than only to 
 collect from hence, that the effect would still be the 
 same though the absent member were as well anni- 
 hilated as lost. If so, I ask, where is this member 
 which the man is sensible of? Where, I say, is, or 
 can it be, but in the mind or soul of him that feels 
 it?" 
 
 2. The next instance shall be of light and 
 colours, which are allowed to be objects properly 
 visible. These appear or seem as much at a dist- 
 ance or external as- any objects whatsoever, yet 
 scarce any thing is more evident than that they are 
 not so. 
 
 In this I speak more particularly to Cartesians; 
 and on this occasion I desire to ask them, how has 
 it come to pass, that they, who all agree that light 
 and colours are not external, should yet happen to 
 overlook the same conclusion, with relation to the 
 bodies, subjects, or extensions, which sustain these 
 accidents? For can any thing be more true or 
 proper than to say, such a body is luminous, or, of 
 this or that colour ? Or more evident than that 
 light and colour exist in, or are accidents of mat- 
 ter? And shall we say that the subjects exist with- 
 out, and the accidents within the soul ? Even those 
 very accidents whose totum esse is inesse in their 
 particular or respective subjects? But to return: 
 as for those who are not yet content so much as to 
 grant that light and colours exist in the soul, I must 
 
( 16 ) 
 
 refer them, as before, for their satisfaction in this 
 point. In the mean time this will doubtless be 
 admitted by all sides or parties, that if light and 
 colours are not external, I have given them an in- 
 stance of some visible objects, which are very ap- 
 parently, but yet are not really external, which is 
 all the labour I shall be at in this particular. 
 
 3. My next instance shall be of those who on 
 some occasions see many objects which no other 
 persons see, and which are unanimously granted to 
 have no existence, but in the minds or faculties of 
 those who see them. Such are those who see men 
 walking the streets with halters about their necks, 
 or with knives sticking in their bodies. Such are 
 those who see themselves or others in the figures of 
 cocks, bulls, or wolves, or with the equipage of 
 sovereign princes. And such, lastly, are those who 
 see and converse with several persons, see houses, 
 trees, &c. which no other person seeth, or perhaps 
 hath ever seen. 
 
 These, you will say, are mad or light-headed. 
 Be it so, that they are mad, or drunk, or whatsoever 
 else you will, yet, unless we will be like them we 
 must needs grant the fact, viz. that they really see 
 the things or objects they pretend to see. They 
 see them also as external or without them ; and yet 
 we all grant, and even contend, that they are not 
 without them, which is as much as I am here con- 
 cerned for. 
 
 4. Another instance of vision, which infers the 
 same conclusion, is of persons whose minds or per- 
 ceptive faculties are acted in an extraordinary man- 
 ner by the spirit of God : such was Ez'ekiel, such 
 was St. John, the author, to us } of the Apocalypse, 
 and such have been many others: these were nei- 
 ther mad nor light-headed, and yet they tell us of 
 strange things which they have seen as evidently, 
 and as externally to appearance, as any objects 
 
( 17 ) 
 
 whatsoever; but yet such things as never really 
 existed without the minds, or perceptive faculties 
 of those who are supposed to have seen them. 
 
 5. Another instance of vision which infers the 
 same conclusion, shall be one of which every person 
 may have the experience. Let a mab, whilst he 
 looks upon any object, as suppose the moon, press 
 or distort one of his eyes with his finger ; this done, 
 he will perceive or see two moons, at some distance 
 from each other; one, as it were, proceeding or 
 sliding off from the other. 
 
 Now both these moons are equally external, or 
 seen by us as external; and yet one at least of 
 these is not external, there being but one moon 
 supposed to be in the heavens, or without us. 
 Therefore an object is seen by us as external, 
 which is not indeed external, which is again the 
 thing to be shewn. 
 
 6. The last instance which I shall mention to 
 this purpose, shall be one likewise of which we have 
 every day's experience, but yet is little observed; 
 and that is, the usual act of seeing objects in a 
 looking-glass. 
 
 Here I see sun, moon, and stars, even a whole 
 expanded world, as distinctly, as externally, as any 
 material objects are capable of being seen. 
 
 Now the question (if it can be any question) is, 
 Where are these things ? Do they exist within or 
 without my soul, or perceptive faculty? If it is said 
 that they exist without, I must still ask where ? Are 
 they numerically the same with that sun, &c, which 
 I see without a glass, and are here, for a time, sup- 
 posed to be external? This cannot be, for several 
 reasons: as first, I see them both together; that is, 
 I as evidently see two distinct objects (suppose 
 suns) as ever I saw two houses, trees, &c. that is, 
 I have the same simple evidence of sense for their 
 
 c 
 
( 18 ) 
 
 being two distinct suns, us I have, or can have, that 
 one object is not two, or two one, or that one is not 
 ten thousand. Secondly, I can, and have often 
 seen one of these suns, viz. either of them singly, 
 without seeing the other. Again, thirdly, instead 
 of two, I have sometimes seen at least twenty or 
 thirty suns, all equally seen, equally seen as ex- 
 ternal. Moreover, fourthly, we often see the ob- 
 ject in the glass very different from that which is 
 like it, and goes by the same name, without the 
 glass. As for instance, one shall be in motion, 
 whilst the other is at rest ; one shall be of one colour, 
 nay also, figure and magnitude, and the other shall 
 be of another ; to which may be added, many 
 other particular differences of which every one's 
 experience will prove a sufficient testimony. 
 
 If then an object seen as in a glass, be not the 
 same with any seen without a glass ; and if it be 
 still affirmed that it exists without the soul which 
 perceives it, I still proceed to demand, Where does 
 it exist ? Shall we say that it exists in the glass ? 
 Perhaps so, but this must be made at least intelli- 
 gible, before another can assent to it. What, a 
 whole expanded world in a piece of glass ? Well, 
 let those who think so enjoy their own opinion. 
 For my part, I freely own I am not a match for 
 such reasoners ; and so I grant, as to a superior 
 genius, whatsoever they shall be pleased to require 
 of me. As likewise to those who shall seriously 
 contend, that the objects seen as in the glass, are 
 not indeed in the glass, but in the eye of him that 
 seeth them ; not thinking it possible to urge any 
 thing to the contrary, which will be of the least 
 weight or moment to alter their opinion. 
 
 Nevertheless, I expect to find some, either of the 
 learned or unlearned part of the world, who, upon 
 the first suggestion, will very readily agree with me, 
 that the objects seen as in the glass, are not external 
 
( 19 ) 
 
 to the mind which sees them ; and indeed this is to 
 me so simply evident, that I cannot induce my 
 mind to set formally about the proof of it, and do 
 almost repent me that I have said so much already 
 on this head, or that I did not at once lay it down 
 as a thing universally taken for granted, at least 
 which would be granted upon the first suggestion. 
 However, till such time as I am apprized of an ad- 
 versary, I will now conclude that the objects seen, 
 as in a glass, are not external to the soul, or visive 
 faculty of him that seeth them; and consequently, 
 that I have here again given an instance of a visible 
 object, as much external to appearance, as any ob- 
 ject whatsoever, but which is not indeed external. 
 
 Now from all and every of these instances it fol- 
 lows, that the visible or apparent externeity of an 
 object, is no argument of its real externeity ; and 
 consequently (if it be not the same thing again in 
 other words) that there is a true and real difference 
 between the quasi and any real externeity of an 
 object ; which justifies the distinction laid down in 
 my introduction. 
 
 This conclusion follows, with the same force or 
 evidence, from the possible as from the actual in- 
 stances; and as much from one of either sort, as 
 from ten thousand. For if but one, and that a 
 possible instance, be given and allowed ofj wherein 
 an object may be seen, with all the visible marks 
 of being external, which attend any visible or seen 
 object whatsoever, but which yet is not indeed ex- 
 ternal; this one intirely destroys all connection be- 
 tween apparent and real externeity; and so the 
 consequence will be, that an object's appearing to 
 be external, is no manner of argument that it is 
 really so. 
 
 Yet I have instanced in many things, for my 
 reader's sake, as well as my own. For my own in- 
 deed, in the first place, in as much as by this means 
 
( 20 ) 
 
 I have many strings to* my bow, which must every 
 one be broken before the bow itself can be bent 
 the other way. Hut yet not forgetting my reader's 
 benefit, (if he will allow it to be any) inasmuch as, 
 amongst so many instances, he may meet with one 
 at least which will hit in with his way of reason- 
 ing, and so dispose him to read what follows with 
 the more pleasure. 
 
 SECT. II. 
 
 That a visible object, as such, is not external. 
 
 HAVING shewn that there is no conse-; 
 qnence from the visible or quasi externeity of au 
 object to any real externeity of it, I come in the 
 next place to shew, that a visible world is notj 
 cannot be external. 
 
 But before I enter upon this task, what should 
 hinder me from asserting my privilege of standing 
 still in this place, and demanding to have some 
 other argument produced for the externeity of the 
 visible world, besides that of its seeming ex- 
 terneity ? This is that which convinces people of 
 every age, and sex, and degree, that the objects 
 they behold are really external ; and this I am sure, 
 with far the greater part, is the only reason which 
 induces this persuasion. With such, and even with 
 all, till some other argument be produced, I may be 
 allowed to argue, as if this were the only argument: 
 that is, to conclude outright, that no visible object 
 is indeed external. For to remove all the pillars 
 on which a building stands, is usually thought to be 
 as effectual a way to demolish it, as any direct force 
 or violence. 
 
 But not to insist on every point of property, 
 when so large a field ,is before me, I will here im- 
 
mediately enter upon the work of proving it to my 
 reader, according to my promise. And here, 
 
 1. First of all, let him try once more the experi- 
 ment already mentioned, of pressing or distorting 
 his eye with his finger. In this case I observed be- 
 fore, (with an appeal for the truth of it to common 
 experience,) that two like objects appear, or are 
 seen. Hence I concluded, that only one of these 
 can be external; that is, that one of them is not 
 so. But here I argue from the same fact, that 
 neither of them is external. 
 
 Let an instance be put, as suppose the object 
 which we call the moon, by pressing my eye I see 
 two moons, equally vivid, equally external; if so, 
 they are both external, or neither. But we are 
 agreed already that they are not both so, therefore 
 neither of them is external. 
 
 If any one will affirm, that only one of these 
 moons is external, I must desire him to give me one 
 marl^or sign of the externeity of one, which is not 
 in the other. In the mean time let him try this ex- 
 periment with himself. 
 
 In the act of seeing two moons, let him call one 
 of them the true external moon, and the other only 
 an appearing or false, or by any other name which 
 he shall please to give it : this done, let him (with 
 his eyes or mind still intent upon these objects) 
 remove his finger, and press the other eye in like 
 manner; or shut either one of his eyes, still keep- 
 ing the other intent on the same object, and he will 
 find by manifest experience, that the moon, which 
 he calls the true, will prove to be the false, and that 
 which he calls the false, will prove to be the true. 
 This, I think, is plain and palpable demonstration, 
 that they are both equally true, or (as we here un- 
 derstand the word) both equally external. Since 
 therefore no more than one can be pretended to be 
 external, to say that they are both equally so, is 
 
the same as to say that they are neither of them 
 so. 
 
 Note 1. That the same argument here proceed- 
 ing on the instance of the moon, is the very same 
 with relation to any other visible object. So that 
 tlir conclusion comprehends the whole visible world 
 at once; or, in other words, every visible object, 
 considered as visible or seen. 
 
 Note 2. The same conclusion likewise follows 
 from every one of the instances mentioned in the 
 former section* Since, as on one hand it appears 
 that there is no consequence from the apparent to 
 any real externeity of an object; so in the very 
 act of supposing certain objects, which are as much 
 apparently external as any objects whatsoever, but 
 which indeed are not external, we must of course 
 suppose them to be as much indeed external as any 
 objects whatsoever. Since therefore some are not 
 external, we must conclude that none are so. And 
 this conclusion will and must hold good till some 
 mark or sign be given of the externeity of one ob- 
 ject, which is not also in the other ; the very at- 
 tempt of which is contrary to the supposition. 
 But to proceed. 
 
 II. It is a maxim in philosophy that like is not 
 the same, and therefore much more one would think 
 should it be allowed that things vastly different are 
 not the same. As for instance, that light is not 
 darkness, nor darkness light ; that greater is not 
 less, nor less greater, &c. And yet on such plain 
 and simple principles as these it follows that the 
 visible world is not external. 
 
 Here then let us again single out an object which 
 will answer for the whole visible world, and let it be 
 the same as before, viz. the moon. The question 
 is, Whether the moon which I see is external or 
 not ? In this question there is not a word but what 
 is plain and simple, or which has been explained 
 
( 23 ) 
 
 already : let us then proceed to the trial of it fov 
 the plain rule before-mentioned, viz. that things 
 different are not the same, which indeed is the same 
 thing in other words with the first principle of sci- 
 ence, viz. Impossibile est idem esse $* non csse. 
 
 1. First then I am content for a while to grant 
 that there is an external world, and in this world 
 an external moon in a place far distant from us, 
 which we call the heavens. Still the question re- 
 turns, whether the moon which I see be that ex- 
 ternal moon here supposed to be in the heavens ? 
 Well now, the moon which I see is a luminous or 
 bright object. But is the moon supposed to be in 
 the heavens a luminous thing or body? No; but a 
 dark or opacious body, if there is any truth in the 
 unanimous assent of all philosophers. Again, the 
 moon which I see is a plain surface; but is the 
 moon in the heavens a plain surface ? No ; all the 
 world agree that the moon in the heavens is rotund 
 or spherical. Again, the moon which I see is 
 semicircular or cornuted; but is this the figure of 
 the moon supposed to be in the heavens ? No ; we 
 all affirm that the moon in the heavens is round or 
 circular. Again, lastly, the moon which I see is a 
 little figure of light, no bigger than a trencher, nay 
 so little, as to be intirely coverable by a shilling. 
 But is this a just description of the moon supposed 
 to be in the heavens? No; the moon in the heavens 
 is by all allowed to be a body of a prodigious size, 
 of some thousands of miles in its diameter. Well 
 then, what follows from all this, but that the moon 
 in the heavens is not the moon which I see; or, 
 that the moon which I see is not in the heavens, or 
 external to my perceptive or visi ve faculty ? 
 
 2. Secondly, As we have seen that the moon 
 which I see, is not the same with any moon sup- 
 posed to jje in the heavens, and consequently, that 
 the moon which I see is not external, by a compari- 
 
( 24 ) 
 
 son of the visible or seen moon, with that which is 
 supposed to be external; so, the same thing will 
 appear by a comparison of visible things with vi- 
 sible, or, of the same thing, (as I must here speak, 
 for want of more proper words,) with itself. But 
 to explain. 
 
 At this instant I see a little strip of light, which 
 common use has taught me to call the moon. Now 
 again I see a larger, which is still called by the same 
 name. At this instant I see a semicircle ; a while 
 after I see a circle of light, and both these are 
 called the moon. Again, now I see a circle of 
 light of such or such a magnitude; a while after I 
 see a circle of light of a much greater magnitude; 
 and both these, as before, I am taught to call the 
 moon. But really and truly, instead of one, I see 
 many moons, unless things different are the same. 
 How then can I believe that the moons which I see 
 are either one or all of them external ? That they 
 are all so cannot be pretended, for no one ever 
 dreamt of more than one external moon ; and I am 
 as confident on the other hand, that no one will 
 pretend that either one of them is external, as in 
 exclusion of the rest. I conclude then that they 
 are all alike external, that is, that neither of them 
 is so; and consequently, (there being nothing in 
 this but what is equally true of every other object 
 of the visible world,) that no visible object is, or 
 can be, external. 
 
 III. But why such long fetches to prove a sim- 
 ple truth ? It is no wonder that my reader (who 
 perhaps has never thought of this subject before) 
 should overlook the exact point of the question, 
 when I myself can scarce keep it in view. I would 
 beg leave therefore to remind myself and him, that 
 the question in hand does not any way proceed 
 upon, or so much as need the mention of any 
 bodies supposed to be external, and unknown to 
 
( 25 ) 
 
 us ; but the question is, whether the extensions, 
 figures, bodies, (or whatever else you will call 
 them) which I see quasi without me, be indeed 
 without me or not. 
 
 But can the resolution of any case be more plain 
 and simple than of this ? For is there any other pos- 
 sible way of seeing a thing than by having such or 
 such a thing present to our minds 3 And can an ob- 
 ject be present to the mind, or visive faculty, which 
 is affirmed to be external to it ? Then may we 
 think, without thinking on any thing ; or perceive, 
 without having any thing in our mind. If then the 
 presentialness of the object be necessary to the act 
 of vision, the object perceived cannot possibly be 
 external to, at a distance from, or independent on, 
 us : And consequently, the only sense in which an 
 object can be said to exist without us, is its being 
 not seen or perceived. But the objects we speak 
 of are supposed to be seen, and therefore are not 
 external to us, which is the point to be demonstrated. 
 
 [To this I might add another, which (if possible) is 
 a yet more simple manner of proceeding to the same 
 conclusion. And it is this. The objects we speak 
 about are supposed to be visible ; and that they are 
 visible or seen, is supposed to be all that we know 
 of them, or their existence. If so, they exist as 
 visible, or in other words, their visibility is their ex- 
 istence. This therefore destroys all, or any distinc- 
 tion between their being > and their being seen, by 
 making them both the same thing ; and this evident- 
 ly at the same time destroys the externeity of them. 
 But this argument has the misfortune of being too 
 simple and evident, for the generality of readers, 
 who are apt to fancy that light itself is not seen, 
 but by the help of darkness ; and so, without in- 
 sisting any farther on this head, I proceed to some 
 other points which may seem to be more intelligible.] 
 
 D 
 
IV. Surely, could the most extravagant imagina- 
 tion of man have conceived a way, how an object 
 supposed to be external, could ever possibly become 
 visible, philosophers would never have been at so 
 great an expence of fruitless meditation, as to forge 
 the strange doctrine of the active and passive intel- 
 lect, impressed and expressed species, &c. whereby 
 to account for our manner of seeing objects. This 
 doctrine, as I remember, is as followeth. 
 
 It is supposed, that when a man stands opposite 
 to an object, there are certain scales or images, 
 (which proceed from this object representing it) 
 which fly in at the eye, where they meet with a cer- 
 tain being, faculty, or pozoer, called the active intel- 
 lect, which, in an instant, spiritualizes them into 
 ideas, and thence delivers them to the inmost recess 
 of the soul, called the passive intellect, which per- 
 ceives or sees them. 
 
 Now far be it from me to move the least objec- 
 tion against this account of vision. They are doubt- 
 less all plain and simple ideas, or else Aristotle had 
 not chosen, neither had the tribe of philosophers 
 since patronized them. 
 
 I only observe first, that this antient, and almost 
 universal account of vision, supposes that the object 
 seen is this supposed scale or effluvium. And conse- 
 quently, secondly, that in order to the act of vision, 
 there is, and must be, an intimate union between 
 faculty and object. 
 
 For if the soul can see an object which is not pre- 
 sent with it, there had been no need of images of 
 the object to become present to the soul, by passing 
 through the eye, &c. However, they need not be 
 images, but any other fashioned particles would 
 have done as well, if the objects seen were not those 
 very images thus spiritualized in the active, and 
 thence passing on to the passive, intellect. 
 
 Why then should not i conclude, even with uni- 
 
( 27 ) 
 
 versa! consent, that the objects seen are not external, 
 but intimately present with, or existent in, the soul? 
 
 Those who patronize this hypothesis of vision, 
 will, doubtless, tell me, that it is the least of their 
 thoughts thereby to affirm and conclude, that the 
 visible world is not external. On the contrary, 
 that the hypothesis itself supposes an external world, 
 or outward objects, from whence these images or 
 effluviums proceed. 
 
 I answer, it does so; but it does not say or sup- 
 pose, that these external objects are visible or seen, 
 but only that they are or exist eternally. On 
 the contrary, the objects seen are supposed to be 
 these images, which, in order to be seen, must first 
 cease to be external ; that is, must pass into the 
 soul, and become ideally present with it. So that 
 this account of vision supposes the visible world, as 
 such, to be not external. 
 
 I together with this, men will yet hold or affirm 
 that the visible world is external, I can only shew 
 them that their own account supposes the direct 
 contrary. But it is neither in mine^ nor any other 
 person's power> to hinder another from holding 
 contradictions. 
 
 V. From the old I proceed to the hypothesis of 
 vision, which is a part of the new philosophy. Every 
 one, I suppose, has heard of the doctrine of seeing 
 the divine ideas, or (as Mr. Malebranche expresses 
 It) seeing all things in God. By this every mode 
 of pure or intellective perception is accounted for ; 
 but I am here concerned only with that which is 
 distinguished by the name of vision. With regard 
 to this the hypothesis is as followeth. 
 
 In every act of vision they distinguish two things, 
 
 viz. sensation and idea, in other words colour and 
 
 .figure. Colour, they say, is nothing different from 
 
 the soul which seeth it, it being only a modification 
 
 oi thought or mind. And as for figure, viz. this or 
 
( 28 ) 
 
 that particular figure which is seen, they call it part 
 of that intelligible extension which God includes, or 
 contemplates, thus and thus exhibited to our minds. 
 
 Now I say, nothing is more evident than that this 
 account of vision supposes external matter is not 
 visible ; and consequently, that visible matter is not 
 external So evident, that I depend even on my 
 Aristotelian reader, (who neither approves, nor so 
 much as understands, what these new philosophers 
 mean,) that he will perceive at first sight that this 
 must needs be meant by it. 
 
 However, when I am apprized of any one who 
 doubts of it, I shall not only be ready to argue this 
 matter fairly with him, but will also undertake t6 
 produce several express passages from the writers of 
 this sort, which directly affirm and contend, that 
 external matter is not, cannot, become visible. 
 
 Nevertheless, I am sensible of the opposition 
 which may be made to this assertion, from several 
 other passages taken from the same writers. But 
 I cannot help it if men will speak inconsistently with 
 themselves ; or, explain their meaning so by halves, 
 as that the same thing shall appear to be both af- 
 firmed and denied by them. 
 
 But the truth is, I fear but little opposition as to 
 this point : since no one will have zeal enough to 
 undertake it, but those who professedly patronize 
 this new philosophy : and I have so good an opi- 
 nion of these, as to believe that they will rather take 
 the hint, and agree with me, upon due reflection, 
 than set themselves to oppose, from any partial re- 
 gard to their own preconceived opinions. 
 
 VI. I shall therefore once more endeavour to per- 
 suade my Aristotelian reader, that it is according to 
 the principles of his own philosophy to assert, that 
 visible matter is not external. 
 
 For this I would refer him to what he will find in 
 the first book of philosophy, he shall happen to light 
 
on, which has any thing on the general subject of 
 matter. For instance, let him consult Suarez, 
 Scheibler, or Baronius, on this subject, which will be 
 found in their books of metaphysicks ; which authors 
 I mention more particularly, because with these I 
 myself have been most acquainted ; not but that I 
 dare appeal to the first philosopher on this subject 
 which my reader shall happen to lay his hands on : 
 But to the point, 
 
 I do not here affirm, that any one philosopher of 
 this sort has ever once asserted, that visible matter is 
 not external, or so much as ever moved the question, 
 whether it be so or not : on the contrary, I verily 
 believe, that if the question had been put to every 
 individual of them, they would unanimously have 
 affirmed that it is certainly external. Nevertheless 
 I still appeal to my impartial reader, whether the 
 questions which they move, and the resolutions 
 which they agree in, concerning the thing which 
 they call matter, do not plainly suppose that they 
 are speaking of an object which they do not see, 
 and which is utterly invisible. 
 
 As for instance, it is usual for them to enquire 
 whether matter exists or not. Whether it has an 
 actus entitativus ; or whether it be only pura po- 
 tejitia. How it is capable of being known, &c. 
 
 As to the first of these questions they use to re- 
 solve it thus. That matter must needs exist, be- 
 cause it is supposed to be created, and also be- 
 cause it is supposed to be part of a compositum. 
 And here again they will tell you, that if it were 
 altogether nothing, it could do nothing in nature ; 
 it could not be the subject of generation and cor- 
 ruption ; it could not be true, that all things in their 
 corruption are reduced to matter ; and besides, if 
 matter was nothing, there would be a continual cre- 
 ation and annihilation, which is absurd, &c. 
 
 As to the second question^ viz, whether it be pura 
 
( 30 ) 
 
 jyotcntia, or not, they distinguish of a twofold actus ; 
 actus physicus, and actus metaphysics. Secundum 
 actum physicum, they say, matter is allowed to be 
 pur a potentia> but not secundum actum metapby- 
 sicunty c. 
 
 And then lastly, as to the other question, viz. 
 quomodo materia possit cognosci, they resolve it thus, 
 That God and angels are supposed to know it per 
 propriam speciem ; but we are supposed to know it 
 only by consequence, or, as they say, per propor- 
 tionem sen analogiam ad materiam rerum artifici- 
 aliurn, &c. whence Plato is quoted by them, as say- 
 ing, that matter is knowable only adulterina cogni- 
 tione. 
 
 Now I say, for what are all these, and several 
 other such like fetches which I could name, if the 
 matter they inquire about be that which is visible 
 x>r seen ? Can it be doubted whether that exists or 
 not which is supposed to be seen ? Whether such an 
 object as this be actus entitativus, or pura potentia ? 
 And whether we know any thing of the existence of 
 an object which we are supposed to see ? 
 
 If visible matter were the matter they are debat- 
 ing about, can it possibly be accounted for, that 
 not the least mention is ever made of our seeing it? 
 Or, tllat for its existence, &c. they should never 
 think of referring us to our senses ? And yet I defy 
 another to shew me but one word of this sort in 
 any philosophic disputation on this subject. 
 
 Nay, they plainly tell us, that the matter they 
 speak about is not by us seen, but is directly 
 knowable only by God and angels. 
 
 If then the inquiry they make about matter be 
 not about any matter supposed to be seen by us, 
 yet nothing is more evident, than that the matter 
 they speak about is supposed to be external. So 
 that what should hinder us from concluding, that it 
 is the unanimous opinion of these philosophers, 
 
( 31 ) 
 
 (though indeed they have never in express words 
 affirmed it,) that external matter is, at least to us, 
 invisible ; and consequently, that visible or seen 
 matter is not external ; which is all that I am here 
 concerned for, leaving others to explain for them 
 what they mean when they affirm, that external 
 matter is visible to God and angels. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Objections answered. 
 
 HAVING proved my point after my own man- 
 ner, it may be expected that I now attend to what 
 another may offer on the contrary part. This, I 
 confess, is a piece of justice which I owe a fair ad- 
 versary, and accordingly I here profess I will be 
 ready at any time, either to answer his objections, 
 or submit to the force of them. Bnt how can it 
 be expected that I myself should oppose any thing 
 to the point I have been contending for ? For my 
 reader may remember, that 1 have already declared, 
 that I know of no one reason or argument, either 
 in myself formerly, or from others, for the externe- 
 ity of the visible world, besides its seeming externe- 
 ity. But if I have not already shewn the inconse- 
 quence of this argument, I confess I have been very 
 idly employed ; and if I have, I have at once an- 
 swered every objection that can reasonably be ex- 
 pected from me, to be urged against the point I 
 am concerned for. 
 
 There may be cavils indeed enough, and of these 
 I expect my share from a certain quarter; for hav- 
 ing endeavoured, with a serious air, to demonstrate 
 a proposition which is so contrary to common pre- 
 judice, and which some perhaps will be resolved not 
 'to admit j nay, I myself am not so abstracted from 
 
( 32 ) 
 
 my former self, as not to be able very easily to in- 
 vent a set of arguments of this sort. But what can 
 in reason be expected that I should do with an ad- 
 versary of this sort ? Shall I study a means to con- 
 vert those whom confessedly it is not in my power 
 to convince ? But 1 have said already that I know 
 of no mechanical engine proper to remove preju- 
 dices; and I must still profess the same, till this 
 awakened age shall bless the world with the disco- 
 very. Shall I then altogether pretermit the men- 
 tion of such objections, affecting to despise them, as 
 not worth the labour of answering them ? This in- 
 deed I would do if I wrote on the side of a prevail- 
 ing party ; but a whole world against one is too 
 considerable an adversary to be despised, though 
 they were not only in the wrong, but were little 
 better than ideots. But I have reason to expect, 
 that not only such, but even the wise and learned, 
 at least by far the greater part, will be my adversa- 
 ries in this point, after all the endeavour which I 
 have used to justify it ; and therefore, till I am ap- 
 prised of some other, I must suppose them to be 
 so, in virtue of such objections as 1 can think of at 
 present, or have by accident heard from others in 
 conversation, which are these that follow. 
 
 Objection 1. 
 
 First, I expect to be told, that in arguing against 
 the extra-existence of the visible world, I oppose a 
 known evidence of truth, viz. the universal consent 
 of mankind, that it is external. 
 
 Answer. 
 
 This now is one of the things which I just now 
 called cavils, which I think is the best name that 
 an argument deserves, which is nothing at all to the 
 purpose in that wherein it is true ; at least such a 
 

 one as is false, both in principle and consequence/ 
 which will, I suppose, appear to be the case of the 
 present objection. For, 
 
 First, as to the foct or minor part of the argu- 
 ment, what should hinder me from denying it ? For, 
 first, who can assure me that since the world began, 
 not one or two, or .two hundred persons, have not 
 been of that opinion which I am here concerned 
 for ? How many may have written on this subject in 
 former times, and we not hear of it in the present ? 
 And how many more may have lived and died of 
 this opinion, and yet have never written on it ? But, 
 secondly, what if we allow that not one has ever 
 written on this subject before ? This will but turn ' 
 to the disadvantage of the objection. For where 
 then is the universal consent before spoken of? Do 
 we mean the same by it as universal silence ? Si- 
 lence in this case will amount to but a very slender 
 argument of consent ; and indeed so slender, that 
 the bare opinion or affirmation of any one person 
 to the contrary, who has professedly considered and 
 inquired about the matter, will outweigh a silence 
 ever so universal, and may even justly challenge the 
 evidence of consent, be it more or less, on his side of 
 the question. 
 
 If therefore the question about the externeity of 
 the visible world, has never, before this time, been, 
 professedly considered, I may fairly plead universal 
 consent for that part which I defend ; since the con- 
 sent of all that have ever considered it, must needs be 
 all that is meant by universal consent. If therefore 
 there be found on the contrary part, any thing in 
 mankind which is like consent, it must lose its name, 
 and be called prejudice or inclination; which is an 
 adversary (as I have observed before) I have no arms 
 to contend with. But lastly, methinks it should 
 weigh something towards consent on my side, that 
 
 
 
( 34 ) 
 
 1 have shewn aheady that it is consistent with, and 
 even necessary to the principles of philosophers 
 of all sides, to hold that which I contend for. And 
 if this be trne, the utmost that can be said in an- 
 swer to it will be this only, that they have contra- 
 dicted themselves, which I am as ready to admit 
 of, as any one can be to urge, since this wiM make 
 the authority of ten thousand of no value against 
 the point I am concerned for. But, 
 
 Secondly, What if it were true, or admitted, that 
 universal consent lay opposite to my conclusion? 
 Must it therefore be condemned without trial, or 
 hearing of any thing in its defence? If not, then it 
 is allowed to be possible, that a proposition may 
 be true, though it happen to cross the consent of all 
 mankind. And if so, how can the contrary be true 
 too, namely, that a proposition is therefore false, be- 
 cause contrary to consent ? But now, if a proposi- 
 tion may be true, which is against universal consent, 
 1 immediately affirm that this is the case of the pro- 
 position I am contending for. Well, and how shall 
 this be tried ? How, I say, but by reason and dis- 
 putation ? So that unless universal consent be held 
 to be an argument universally conclusive, it con- 
 cludes nothing at all, (there being a contradictory 
 distance between these two propositions, viz. a thing 
 may be true which is contrary to consent, and a thing 
 may not be true which is contrary to consent.) And 
 therefore the mention of consent is here altogether 
 needless, at least, its introduction serves only to 
 convince us, that it is much better it had not been 
 introduced. But 
 
 Some perhaps will hold this argument to be UIIK 
 versally conclusive, viz. A proposition may not be 
 true which is contrary to universal consent; and 
 this, I suppose, must be the meaning of those who 
 will pretend to mean any thing by the words of the 
 objection. But is there a man upon earth who will 
 
( 35 ) 
 
 join issue with me on this foot ? Perhaps so, but he 
 must excuse me if I declare beforehand that I will 
 not do so with him whilst he continues to be of 
 this opinion. And I am fool enough to say this, be- 
 cause I think I have reason for it. But this alone 
 unqualifies me to hold discourse with one who will 
 contend, that universal consent is a simple evi- 
 dence of truth. Whereas if this be true, then uni- 
 versal consent is truth, and reason, or the common 
 standard of every particular truth. Consequently, 
 by this rule, a proposition may become true which 
 is simply false, or false which is simply true; that 
 is, all that which I have been used to call truth 
 and reason is destroyed at once. But now, what- 
 soever proposition I defend or deny, I must take it 
 for granted that there is such a thing as truth, inde- 
 pendent and immutable, and that reason is rea- 
 son, though ever so many people dissent from me, 
 or deny it ; that is, I must take the question be- 
 tween us for granted, as my first step towards the 
 disputation of it. And therefore, as on one hand 
 I can do no otherwise than thus, and on the other I 
 am sure no adversary will allow me to take this me- 
 thod with him, we must even part fairly, as being 
 unqualified for each other's conversation. And this 
 is my best answer to the first objection. 
 
 Objection 2. 
 
 Does not the sense of feeling assure us of the ex- 
 tra-existence of the visible world ? To this I 
 
 Answer. 
 
 First. If for instructions sake only you propose 
 this question, you are doubtless disposed to take 
 my word for an answer; accordingly I answer, No ; 
 the sense of feeling does not assure us of the extra- 
 existence of the visible world. If this does not sa- 
 tisfy, you are desired, instead of questions, to give 
 
( 36 ) 
 
 me an argument, whereby it may appear that the 
 sense of feeling does assure us of the extra-existence 
 of the visible world. What makes this the more ne- 
 cessary is, because I have proved already in great 
 variety thai the visible world is not external ; and 
 amongst the rest, that the sense of vision gives us 
 evident assurance, that a visible object, as such, is 
 not, cannot be, external. And methinks, if this is 
 not false, it should be true; or if false, yet should 
 not be so called, till either the arguments are an- 
 swered by which it is defended, or some other argu- 
 ment be produced, which concludes against the 
 truth of it : for till one of these things be done I 
 have but the objector's bare assertion against 
 me, whereas he has mine, and I think something 
 else on the other side. But, 
 
 Secondly, I am content to go on with the la- 
 bouring oar in my hand, and shew the contrary to 
 that which is affirmed in the objection. Accordingly 
 I affirm, 
 
 First, That be the object of the sense of feeling 
 what it will, or leaving the decision of this matter 
 at large, feeling is no argument of the extra-exis- 
 tence of this object. For the truth of this I will 
 only refer my reader back to what has been already 
 observed on this subject; or rather I presume that 
 he remembers both that^ and how I have prevented 
 the force of this part of the objection ; so that till I 
 hear farther on this point I may save myself the pains 
 of adding any thing in this place. But I affirm also. 
 
 Secondly, That the sense of feeling is so far from 
 assuring us of the extra-existence of the visible 
 world, that it does not so much as say any thing of 
 its existence simple. I say not here with a certain 
 Author *, that we cannot feel existence, it being the 
 same thing to do so as to fed a proposition. This 
 may be a good argument for aught I know, but I 
 
 * Mr. Norm's Theory of the Ideal World. Vol. 1. p. 1<?8. 13, 
 
( 37 ) 
 
 profess it is too high or too low for me, for I do not 
 understand it. But what I affirm is this, that what* 
 ever be the object of the sense of feeling, and even 
 admitting that it assures us of the existence of its 
 proper object ; things visible are not the object of 
 this sense ; and consequently we can have no assu- 
 rance this way of so much as the existence simple of 
 such objects. I know not how it may sound to a- 
 nother/but to me to say, I can feel a visible object, 
 is just such another piece of sense as to say, I can 
 see the sound of a trumpet, or hear* the colours of a 
 rainbow. One would think it should be granted me 
 that a visible object is visible, and that a tangible 
 object is tangible, and that seeing and feeling are 
 two different things or sensations; but it is the 
 same thing to me though they were one and the 
 same; for if so, then as vision is feeling, so feeling 
 is vision ; and then I have proved already that a visi- 
 ble object, as such, is not external, whereas if they 
 are different they must have different objects, be the 
 names of them what they will ; and then a visible 
 object will be one thing, and a tangible object 
 another : and therefore how the existence of a tan- 
 gible object should become an argument for the ex- 
 istence (much more the extra-existence) of a visible 
 object, is indeed past my skill to understand, any 
 farther than this, that if I understand any thing at 
 all, I understand, arid I think have shewn, this to be 
 a plain and glaring contradiction. And so I pro- 
 ceed to 
 
 Objection 3. 
 
 Which is Mr. Des Cartes's ; and that according 
 to the best of my remembrance is this : he concludes 
 the being of an external world from the truth and 
 goodness of God, who is not to be supposed to de- 
 ceive us in our involuntary judgments or inclinati- 
 
( 38 ) 
 
 ons. [This, I say, I take to be his meaning, though 
 my manner of expressing it be very different from 
 that of his two great followers, Mr. Malebranche* 
 and Mr. Norrisf, for which 1 refer my reader to 
 the places cited at the bottom. Whether I have 
 done him justice, or not, I leave to be disputed by 
 those who think I have not. In the mean time, the 
 reason which 1 give for differing from these great 
 persons is, because as they have represented his ar- 
 gument, it seems to be inconsistent with itself, and 
 has not so much as the appearance of being an objec- 
 tion ; whereas, as I have here given it, it seems to 
 have some appearance, though how far it is from be- 
 ing a real argument against any thing I am con- 
 cerned for, will appear by this that followeth.] 
 
 Answer. 
 
 1. If by the being of an external world, be 
 meant the being of a world, which, as external, is 
 supposed to be invisible, this is nothing to my pre- 
 sent purpose, but belongs wholly to my Second 
 Part ; wherein I shall attempt to shew that an ex- 
 ternal world is simply an impossibility, which ex- 
 ternal world will be also there supposed to be invi- 
 sible. But if by the being of an external world be 
 meant the same as the external being, or (as I have 
 hitherto called it) the extra-existence or externeity 
 of the visible or sensible world, it is then indeed an 
 objection against the point I am now upon. Ac- 
 cordingly, 
 
 2. I say, that in my opinion it is no imputation 
 on the frulh and goodness of God to affirm, much 
 less to attempt to prove, that the visible world is 
 not external. It is no business of mine to prove 
 this negative, though it be the easiest thing in the 
 
 * Search's Illustrations, page 112. f Theory of the Ideal 
 Ws>rld, Vol. i. p. 208. 
 
( 39 ) 
 
 world so to do. Let them prove the contrary who 
 build their whole cause of an external world upon 
 the force of it. It is enough for me that I have 
 shewn by many arguments that the visible world 
 is not external. These arguments either conclude, 
 or they do not ; if not, let this be made appear by 
 a just and distinct answer to them; but if they do, 
 the point is gained, and they must be persons 
 strangely disposed, who after this will expect I 
 should take their word, when they say, that the 
 truth or goodness of God is concerned, that that 
 should be false, which is, and must be supposed to 
 be true. But to be something more particular I 
 answer, 
 
 First, That I deny the supposition of the involim- 
 tariness of our judgments for the externeity of the 
 visible world. For this it is enough that I myself 
 am one, who am so far from being involuntarily de- 
 termined to this assent, that I can, and have already 
 demonstrated that it is not external. 
 
 Secondly, We should come to a fine pass of rea- 
 soning indeed, if this manner of proceeding were 
 allowed to be good, viz. / am inclined to judge such 
 or such a thing to be so or so; ergo, If is as I ivould 
 have it, because God will not deceive me. It is in 
 vain in this case to appeal to reason and argument ; 
 nay, though God himself should supply us with rea- 
 son against our inclination, nay, and give us his 
 word that our inclination is erroneous, yet still we 
 are bound to stand by it, and even plead the au- 
 thority of God against himself. But, lastly, Do I 
 hear this from a Cartesian, even from Des Cartes 
 himself, who is for nothing more known in the world 
 than for giving us many instances wherein a common 
 inclination may be, and is erroneous; as in judging 
 light to be in the sun, heat in the fire, or in the 
 hand, colours on external objects, &c. In all these 
 cases we are as much inclined as in judging the vi- 
 
( 40 ) 
 
 sible world to be external -, and yet it is enough with 
 him and his followers for the confutation of these 
 inclinations, that they have good reason to the con- 
 trary : and this methinks should be enough in any 
 case, and with any persons, unless we are resolved 
 to be unreasonable, and even profess ourselves 
 Sceptics, and if so, I confess I am silenced. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 That there is no external world, and, That an exter- 
 nal world is a being utterly impossible. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 HAVING shewn in my former part that ths, 
 visible world is not external, I come now to the 
 other thing proposed in the beginning, namely to 
 demonstrate more at large, or simply, that an ex- 
 ternal world is a being utterly impossible, or that 
 there is no such world. Now to this, as before, I 
 shall proceed by steps. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 ARGUMENT I. 
 
 AND here I affirm, in the first place, that 
 (abstracting from any argument directly proving 
 this point) we are bound already so far to conclude 
 that there is no external world, as that it is against 
 all the laws of fair reason and argument to sup- 
 pose or make mention of any such world. For if a 
 
visible world, as such, is not external, an external 
 world, as such, must be utterly invisible, and if invi- 
 sible, unknowable, unless by revelation. 
 
 For, first, an external world (if there be any such 
 thing) is, I suppose, allowed by all to be a creature ; 
 but the being of a creature is not to be proved by rea- 
 son, for reason converses only in things necessary or 
 eternal, whereas a creature, as such, is contingent, 
 and temporary ; so that in vain shall we seek to 
 reason to assure us of the existence of an external 
 world. 
 
 Then, secondly, it is here supposed that we should 
 seek to as little purpose to the testimony of sense, 
 since an external world, as such, is here supposed 
 to be absolutelv invisible. Whether we have any 
 notice from revelation of the being of any such 
 world shall be considered in its proper place. In 
 the mean time I here suppose also, Thirdly, that we 
 have no such notice, so that, as the case stands at 
 present, an external world is a being utterly un- 
 known. 
 
 But now I have always received it as a law, that 
 we ought never to reason but upon known ideas; 
 and if this be just and reasonable, an external world, 
 as being unknown^ ought to have as little place in 
 our reasonings as if we knew for certain that there 
 was no such world. 
 
 Nay, on the supposition of its being unknown, we 
 are not only bound to omit the mention of it, but 
 also warranted to conclude that there is no such> 
 world. This, I say, must be an allowed consequence, 
 till such time as some other pretends the contrary ; 
 and he must prove too as well as pretend, else the 
 consequence stands good against him. 
 
 Here then is my advantage ; we all know and are 
 agreed that there is such a thing as a visible world, and 
 that a visible object, as sucb, is not external : on the 
 
 F 
 
( 42 ) 
 
 other hand, we are as much agreed, at least it is 
 here supposed that \vc are agreed, that we know 
 nothing at all of an external world, supposed, as 
 such, to be invisible: but it is a maxim in science, 
 that eadem est ratio non entis & non apparentis. I 
 conclude therefore outright that there is no such 
 world. 
 
 It is for this reason that we think it our duty to 
 reason only on the supposition of body and spirit, 
 thinking and extended beings, viz. because we have 
 no knowledge of the existence of any creature, which 
 is neither of these. Hence we think it a very good 
 and safe way of arguing, to make the exclusion of 
 the one, the consequence of the position of the other, 
 and so vice versa. Thus philosophers use to prove 
 that colour, light, heat, sound, &c. belong to, or are 
 affections, of spirits, because they are not included 
 in the idea which we have of body. The principle or 
 major proposition of which argument is plainly this. 
 There are but two sorts of beings in the worJd, viz. spi- 
 rit and matter; then the minor is this, viz. light, &c. 
 do not belong to matter, ergo, they belong to spirit. 
 Now if this way of arguing is good, it is so by vir- 
 tue of that principle, that we ought to reason only 
 on known ideas, and that things which appear not, 
 are but equal to things which are not; and it is in 
 virtue of the same that I here plead a right to con- 
 clude that there is no such thing as an external 
 world. 
 
 I pretend not this to be demonstration of tha 
 point simply, as if I should say that a thing's being 
 unknown were a direct argument of its not being at 
 all; but yet this is something so very near of kin 
 to a demonstration, and so every way serving all 
 the ends and purposes of a demonstration, that who- 
 ever has the advantage of it on his side, has as little 
 to fear from an adversary, as he that can produce 
 ten thousand demonstrations. For this is an evi- 
 
\ 4 - ) 
 
 dent principle or rule of reasoning, that a thing un-* 
 known ought never to be supposed, and therefore 
 till it be supposed, it is the very same thing as to us 
 as if there were no such thing at all. To suppose 
 the being of a thing granted to be unknown, with 
 him who affirms that it is nothing at all, is to beg 
 the question; whereas, to suppose it to be nothing 
 at all upon the same concession, is not to beg the 
 question ; I mean any fair or legal one, because on 
 one hand, no one has any right to make that a ques- 
 tion which he professes that he knows nothing of; 
 and on the other, every one has a right not only to 
 question the existence, but also to suppose the 
 non-existence of what is granted to be unknown. 
 So that whilst this is granted, in the case before us, 
 I have the same advantage against any one who 
 shall suppose an external world (viz. either in actu 
 formali, as in opposition to what I here contend for, 
 or in actu exercito, in the resolution of any philoso- 
 phical or general question, which depends on 
 the yea or nay of this point,) as if I were girt about 
 with ever so many demonstrations. 
 
 I might therefore fairly rest here, and save my- 
 self the labour of producing any direct or ostensive 
 arguments against the being or possibility of an 
 external world : but to give my reader the best sa- 
 tisfaction I can, and also to establish my conclu- 
 sion in some measure answerably to the good use 
 and moment of it, I am content to propose the fol- 
 lowing demonstrations. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 ARGUMENT II. 
 
 AN external world is here supposed to be invisi- 
 ble, even utterly or absolutely so, absolutely inca- 
 
( 44 ) 
 
 pable of being an object of vision or perception; 
 insomuch, that though it were here supposed that an 
 external world were capable of existing, or that any 
 power were sufficient to produce such a thing or be- 
 ing, yet no power can be supposed to be suffi- 
 cient to make it visible or seen. For a visible world, 
 as such, is not external, as has been shewn already: 
 so that to say, that an external world may (by any 
 cause) become visible, is a contradiction in terms. 
 
 Well now, an external world is supposed to be, 
 or to imply creature; so that if there be any such 
 thing in being, it is so, because God has willed, 
 made or created it. 
 
 But for what end, or use, or purpose, can we sup- 
 pose that God should create an invisible world ? A 
 world, which, as invisible, is incapable of being 
 inhabited, incapable of being known ? For my part 
 I can think of no use which such a world can be of. 
 And considering that such a world is here granted 
 to be unknown, it is not incumbent on me to shew 
 that it can be of no use, but on them to shew 
 the contrary, who are concerned for the being of it. 
 So that till this be done I have a right to suppose 
 that it is of no use at all, and consequently to affirm 
 that there is no such world. 
 
 For though the principle must take its chance to 
 be either admitted or denied, as men shall please to 
 judge (only that, as I observed just now, he must 
 prove his point, who will venture on the denial of 
 it,) still the consequence is good, and must pass 
 with all for demonstration, that a creature which is 
 not, cannot be of any use, is at best but a possibi- 
 lity, but such a possibility as neither will, nor can be 
 produced into act. 
 
 This, with certain wits, may appear to be a con- 
 tradiction ; and perhaps I should mend the matter 
 but little by the answer I am most inclined to make 
 them, namely, that though it be so, yet it is neverthe- 
 
less true ; nay, that I could easily shew them a hun- 
 dred such contradictions, which yet they themselves 
 will acknowledge to be true. But I am content so 
 far to favour the iniquity of words, as to explain by 
 a distinction this appearing difficulty. 
 
 I say then, that things are possible or impossible, 
 after a twofold manner. One is, when in the idea 
 or conception of the thing there is, or is not, any 
 repugnancy or contradiction . 
 
 This is what may be called an internal or intrin- 
 sic possibility, or impossibility; possibility where 
 there is not, impossibility where there is, this sup- 
 posed repugnancy. 
 
 The other is, when the repugnancy or impediment 
 is, or is not, (not in the thing itself but) in the 
 cause, or time, or some other circumstance or affec- 
 tion of the thing. But in this place I am concerned 
 only with the first of these, viz. the cause. 
 
 A thing is possible in its cause, when there is, in 
 the idea of its cause, no impediment to be found, 
 forbidding its existence, or which is the same, with- 
 holding the efficient from producing it into act ; and 
 when the contrary to this happens, then the thing 
 is impossible. For, since every thing exists by its 
 cause, it will as certainly not exist if the cause does 
 not produce it, as if in its own idea it implied a con- 
 tradiction. And if the supposed impediment in the 
 cause be invincible, the existence of the thing sup- 
 posed becomes properly impossible. This I would 
 therefore call an external or extrinsic possibility or 
 impossibility. A thing then may be both possible 
 and impossible in these different respects; that is, 
 intrinsically possible, but extrinsically impossible; 
 and therefore of such a thing it may be said 
 without any contradiction, that though it be ad- 
 mitted to be possible, (viz. intrinsically,) yet it is 
 such a possibility, a& neither will, nor can, be pro* 
 
( 46 ) 
 
 duced into act, (viz. by reason of an impediment 
 found in its cause, which though an extrinsic, is yet a 
 real impossibility against the being of it.) 
 
 But now this is the case before us, viz. of an ex- 
 ternal or invisible world. Admitting it to be pos- 
 sible with regard to the thing itself, that such a 
 world should exist ; yet an useless creature cannot 
 possibly be made, when we regard its cause, viz. 
 God, who can do nothing to no purpose, by reason 
 of his wisdom. Here then lies the impediment spo- 
 ken of in the cause, which makes it extrinsically, 
 but yet really impossible, that there should be any 
 such world. I say really so, because the wisdom 
 by which God acts is necessary and immutable ; 
 and therefore if it be simply against the order of 
 wisdom to do an useless act, the impediment against 
 the doing of it is to the full as invincible, as if a re- 
 pugnancy were found in the idea or conception of the 
 thing itself, here supposed to be done, or not done ; and 
 consequently an useless effect is a real impossibility. 
 
 But 1 have often found upon examination, that 
 where an extrinsic impossibility lies against any 
 point, we need but search to the bottom of it, and 
 we shall find an intrinsic repugnancy in the thing 
 itself. And this I think I have seen to be the case 
 of an external world, as I suppose will appear from 
 some of the following chapters. 
 
 CHAP. HI. 
 ARGUMENT III. 
 
 AS for instance. An external world, whose ex- 
 tension is absolute, that is, not relatively depen- 
 ding on any faculty of perception, has (in my opi- 
 nion, such a repugnancy in its extension, as actually 
 
( 47 ) 
 
 destroys the being of the subject world. The re- 
 pugnancy is this, that it is, or must be, both finite 
 and infinite. 
 
 Accordingly then I argue thus. That which is 
 both finite and infinite in extent, is absolutely non- 
 existent, or there is, or can be, no such world. Or 
 thus, an extent or expansion, which is both finite 
 and infinite, is neither finite nor infinite, that is, is no 
 expansion at all. But this is the case of an exter- 
 nal expansion, ergo> there is, or can be, no such ex- 
 pansion. 
 
 I know not what will pass with some men for ar- 
 gument, if both the matter and manner of this be 
 not approved of. For first, what can well be more 
 evident than both the premises? That a thing, in 
 the same respect, cannot be both finite and infinite; 
 or that a thing which in the idea of it implies both 
 finite and infinite, is in act neither finite nor infi- 
 nite; and that what is neither finite nor infinite, is 
 not at all, are (with me, and I suppose with all pre- 
 tenders to reason,) such prime principles of science, 
 that I must- needs depend that these will never be 
 called in question by any but professed sceptics. 
 Then as to the minor, its evidence is to me so gla- 
 ring, and (in the little conversation I have had in the 
 learned world) so universally assented to, that I am 
 rather inclined here also to make my appeal for, than 
 endeavour to shew the truth of it. This of the ex- 
 tent of an external world, is that which is called op- 
 probrium philosophorum, being a point owned by all 
 to have an invincible demonstration, both for and a- 
 gainst it. Some indeed, by way of hypothesis, have 
 held it to be finitely, and some to be infinitely, ex- 
 tended, according as either of these has best served 
 the ends of some other points they have been con- 
 cerned for. But I have never yet met with any one 
 so hardy as, in defence of one, to have endea- 
 voured to dissolve or answer the arguments lying on 
 
the other side of the contradiction. For this reason 
 I need not here name either the one sort, or the o- 
 ther, but conclude outright, even with universal 
 consent, that an expansion external is both (that is 
 neither) finite and infinite. Then, 
 
 Secondly, as to the form or manner of this argu- 
 ment, it has first evidently this to plead for itself, 
 that there is nothing in its conclusion but what is 
 in the premises which shews it to be no fallacy, 
 but a legal and just argument. And also this, se- 
 condly, that it is exactly parallel with several ar- 
 guments which I could name, allowed by all to be 
 good, and even perfectly demonstrative. 
 
 As for instance, suppose a man should advance 
 the notion of a triangular square. Or suppose, 
 two persons contending about the attributes of 
 this strange idea: one arguing from the idea of 
 triangle, that it has but three angles ; and the 
 other contending that it must have four, from the 
 idea of a square ; what could any reasonable stancler- 
 by conclude from this, but that the thing they are 
 disputing about is nothing at all, even an impossi- 
 bility or contradiction ? Nay, the disputants them- 
 selves must needs close in with this manner of ar- 
 guing ; and that on two accounts. 
 
 First, in that this manner of arguing accommo- 
 dates the difference between them, and salves the 
 honour of both. For by this both appear to be in 
 the right in the precise points they are contending 
 . for; and wrong only in something which they are 
 both equally concerned for, viz. the supposition of 
 the being of a triangular square, which is the thing 
 supposed by consent between them. But chiefly, 
 
 Secondly, in that the person who argues in this 
 manner must be allowed to have the law of reason 
 on his side, and may compel them, on their own 
 principles, to assent to his conclusion. This is 
 done by granting to each party his point, namely, 
 
that a triangular square is both triangular and 
 square or quadrangular. This done, they have no- 
 thing to do but to answer each other's arguments, 
 which it is here supposed they cannot do. By this 
 therefore each grants the other to be in the right. 
 So that for a stander-by to grant both to be in the 
 right, is, in this case, a demonstration that they are 
 both in the wrong; or in other words, that the 
 thing they are disputing about is nothing at all. 
 
 I have mentioned this possible, rather than any 
 actual^ instance of this kind, because I would give 
 an instance wherein I may be sure to have every 
 one of my side. For certainly no one can doubt 
 whether this be a good argument or not. 
 
 A figure which is both triangular and quadran* 
 gular, is not at all. 
 
 But this is the case of a triangular square. 
 
 Ergo, there is no such figure. 
 
 The force of this argument has never been dis- 
 puted and I dare say never will : whereas to have 
 put a case, which has been actually a matter of dis- 
 pute, (of which sort I believe some might be named,) 
 though equally conclusive, had yet been less plain 
 and evident, because what has been, may be again ; 
 and so to some I had seemed to prove a notum by 
 an ignotum. 
 
 But now, in the present case, which is granted to 
 be clear, I have nothing to do but to she\v it to be 
 parallel with that which I before mentioned. And 
 this is an easy work. For (as in this possible one 
 about the attributes of a triangular square there 
 may be, so) there has actually been a dispute be- 
 tween philosophers concerning one attribute, viz. 
 the extent of an external world. One side, from 
 the idea of its being external, has proved it to be 
 infinite ; the other, from the idea of its being created, 
 &c, has proved it to be finite. Both suppose it to 
 
( 50 ) 
 
 be external, both to be created. At the same time 
 neither of them so much as pretends to answer the 
 arguments on the side opposite to his own ; but on- 
 ly to justify his own point directly. And yet both 
 will grant, that if an external world be both finite 
 and infinite, it is the same thing as to say there is 
 no such world. 
 
 Well then, here I interpose, as before, and say, 
 
 A world which is both finite and infinite, is not 
 at all. 
 
 But this is the case of an external world. 
 
 Ergo, there is no such world. 
 
 Here the honour of both is salved ; here both the 
 major and minor are their own; here a stander-by 
 has the same advantage as before ; so that wha't 
 should hinder an easy, and even universal, assent to 
 the conclusion ? 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 ARGUMENT IV. 
 
 FROM the maximum, I come next to the mi- 
 nimum natnrale ; or to the question about the di- 
 visibility of matter, quantity or extension. 
 
 And here I affirm in like manner as before, that 
 external matter is both finitely and infinitely divi- 
 sible ; and consequently, that there is no such 
 thing as external matter. 
 
 The argument in form stands thus. 
 
 Matter which is both finitely and infinitely divi- 
 sible, is not at all. 
 
 But this is the case of external matter. 
 
 Ergo, there is no such thing as external mat- 
 ter. 
 
 The major- of this argument is the first .principle 
 of science, it being the same in other words, as to 
 
say, that what is, is, or that it is impossible fora thing 
 to be, and not be. For finite and infinite are 
 just so to each other, as being, and not being. 
 Finite is to be limited, infinite to be not limited. 
 Or rather thus, infinite is to be absolute, finite, to 
 be not absolute. So that it is as plainly impossi- 
 ble for the same thing to be both, as both to be, 
 and not be at the same time, or in the same 
 respect, &c. For both the respect, and time, and 
 every thing else, which is or can be made the con- 
 dition of the truth of this principle, is also found 
 in the major of the present argument; and conse- 
 quently nothing can be more evident, than that what 
 is, or in its. idea implies both finite and infinite, is 
 not at all. 
 
 But now this I say is the case or implication of 
 external matter, which is the minor or assumption 
 of the same argument. 
 
 External matter, as a creature, is evidently finite, 
 and yet as external is as evidently infinite, in the 
 number of its parts, or divisibility of its substance; 
 and yet nothing can be more absurd than such an 
 infinite divisibility. 
 
 But I need not/Jeduce these things to any far- 
 ther length, since no philosopher that I have ever 
 met with has ever doubted of this matter, it being 
 universally agreed that there is an invincible de- 
 monstration on both sides of this question of the 
 divisibility of matter, so that I have nothing to 
 do but to conclude that the thing or matter con- 
 cerning which this question proceeds is a mere no- 
 thing, or contradiction ; yet I expect to be told, 
 that it has been the least of the thoughts of these 
 philosophers to conclude as I here do, since not one 
 has ever doubted of the existence of external mat- 
 ter. To this I answer, 
 
 First, perhaps so ; but who can help this ? Is it 
 not enough for this conclusion, that we are all 
 
agreed in the premises, and that there is nothing in 
 the conclusion but what is in the premises? If in 
 this case men will hold the premises, but deny the 
 conclusion, this, at best, can be no better than in- 
 advertence ; but to do this, after the conclusion is 
 formally deduced, or the whole syllogism is laid be- 
 fore them, is no better than errant scepticism. And 
 I must be excused if I contend not with an adver- 
 sary of this sort. But secondly, one would think by 
 the descriptions which they themselves are used to 
 give of external matter, that all philosophers should 
 be very ready to subscribe to this conclusion for its 
 own sake, as I have partly shewn already, and shall 
 make appear more fully before I finish this work. 
 
 Again, I expect to be told that the matter which 
 I here speak of is conceived to be very different 
 from that concerning which philosophers have dis- 
 puted, in the question about the divisibility of ex- 
 tension, and also in that about the extent of the 
 world, (whether infinite or finite 5) particularly that 
 the matter or extension which they speak of is sup- 
 posed to be visible, whereas that which I am speak* 
 ing of is supposed to be invisible. I answer, 
 
 Perhaps so ; I admit that the matter usually spo- 
 ken of by philosophers is supposed by them, to be 
 visible, and that the matter which I am here speak- 
 ing of is supposed, and also proved, to be invisible. 
 Nevertheless it must needs be granted that the mat- 
 ter spoken of by philosophers is supposed by them 
 to be external; if not, it must be because they hold 
 that visible matter is not external, or, that there is 
 no such thing as external matter; neither of which 
 will, 1 believe, be easily granted, much less (which 
 is necessary in this place) contended for against me. 
 If then the matter they speak about is supposed by 
 them to be external, this is all that I am concerned 
 for at present ; the qux stion between us being only 
 this simply, whether external matter exists, or not? 
 
0" THB 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 or, as usually expressed in latin, Anfoiwmateriaex- 
 terna ? No, say I ; for it implies such and such con- 
 tradictions, which destroy the being of it, or render 
 its existence impossible. Well ; and what will an 
 adversary say to this? Will he deny that it implies 
 these supposed contradictions? No; it is here sup- 
 posed that all philosophers agree in affirming this 
 point. Will he then deny the conclusion, whilst he 
 affirms the premises? No, certainly; for this is for- 
 mal scepticism, or no other than a denial of all 
 truth, and reason, and consequence, at once. What 
 remains then, but that we all conclude that exter- 
 nal matter is a thing absolutely impossible ? 
 
 But you will say, to conclude this with consent, is 
 to conclude the non-existence of visible matter, 
 since philosophers pretend to speak of no matter 
 but what they supposed to be visible. I answer, 
 
 First, why then I must conclude the same without 
 consent; the damage one would think should not be 
 great, provided it be allowed that my conclusion is 
 true; and for this I appeal to the arguments by 
 which I prove it, and which I suppose may be good, 
 though they should happen to want consent. But, 
 secondly, I deny that the matter concerning the di- 
 visibility of which the question usually proceeds, 
 is supposed by philosophers to be visible matter. 
 This is evident from this, that the matter of which 
 they speak, is, and must be, supposed to exist after 
 ever so many divisions of it, even when it is become 
 invisible, by the frequency of its being divided. 
 
 It is not therefore visible, but external, matter, 
 considered as external, of which philosophers have 
 disputed; and of which they say that it is both infi- 
 nitely and finitely divisible and extended. And 
 this idea of its being external, or independent (as 
 to its existence simple) on any mind or perceptive 
 faculty, is so absolutely necessary to both these 
 
( 54 ) 
 
 questions, that neither of them has any appearance 
 of being a question, upon the removal of this idea, 
 and placing visible in its stead. For a visible world, 
 or visible matter, considered as not external, exists 
 plainly as visible, and consequently, as such, is ex- 
 tended, as such, is divisible. So that after this it 
 carries a contradiction with it, so much as to enquire 
 whether it be extended, farther than it is seen to be 
 extended, or divisible, farther than it is seen to exist. 
 So that however by accident philosophers may have 
 jumbled together the two ideas of visible and exter- 
 nal, external is the idea only they are concerned 
 with, and therefore it is external matter alone whose 
 existence i.^ encumbered with the foremen tioned con- 
 tradictions; and so incumbered, I say, as to make 
 it necessary for us to conclude that it is absolutely 
 impossible there should be any such thing. But yet 
 so partial have I found some towards an external 
 world, that when nothing has been found, which 
 could with any appearance be objected against the 
 evidence of this and the foregoing argument, they 
 have even drest up formal nothing into the shape of 
 an objection: for I have been sometimes told (and 
 that with an air of unusual gravity, as if the being 
 of a real universe depended on their concern for it ; 
 nay, as if religion itself must fail if there be no ex- 
 ternal world,) that a thing may be, and must some- 
 times be, judged by us to be true, whose manner 
 of existence we cannot comprehend. That of this 
 sort are several articles of our Christian faith, as for 
 instance, the trinity in unity, the incarnation of the 
 son of God, &c. which we believe to be true, though 
 we acknowledge them to be mysteries, nay, and are 
 content to own, that with regard to our shallow rea- 
 sonings, they are attended also with contradictions. 
 Why then must we conclude that there is no ex- 
 ternal world, because of the contradictions which. 
 
( 55 ) 
 
 seem to attend the position of it ? And to this pur- 
 pose I find it said by a very judicious author*, that 
 it is good to tire and fatigue the mind with such kind 
 of difficulties (as the divisibility of matter, &c ) in 
 order to tame its presumption, and to make it less 
 daring ever to oppose its feeble light to the truths 
 proposed to it in the gospel, &c. I answer, 
 
 1 . It is a sign indeed that our understandings 
 are very weak and shallow, when such stuff as this 
 shall not only pass for common sense, but even look 
 like argument ; arid herein I confess my own as well 
 as my neighbour's weakness. However, 
 
 2. If we will reason at all, we cannot well have a 
 more evident principle to go upon than this, that 
 being is not not-being ; that what is, is j or that it 
 is impossible for the same thing both to be and not 
 be. If so, we must either say that humility of 
 judgment is no virtue, or that there is still room 
 enough left for the exercises of it, whilst we hold 
 this principle without the least doubt or wavering. 
 Nay, 
 
 3. It seems to me, that if we will reason at all, 
 we should freely judge of whatsoever we perceive, 
 so as first of all to agree in this, that whatsoever we 
 perceive to be, is : for though it were true indeed 
 that there is no such thing as truth, or though the 
 light of our understandings were ever so weak and 
 feeble, yet till we have discovered this to be the case, 
 and whilst we all agree to reason one with Another, 
 that must pass for the truth which we perceive, and 
 that must pass for perceiving which at present we are 
 capable of, be it what it will in the eye of a supe- 
 rior judgment or understanding. To boggle there- 
 fore at this, is not reasoning, but refusing to rea- 
 son at ail; is not humility of judgment, but open 
 and avowed scepticism ? Is not an acknowledgment 
 
 * Art of thinking* 
 
( 56 ) 
 
 of the infinity of truth, but an evil, and profane, 
 and atheistical, denial of it ? And yet, 
 
 4. Nothing more than this is requisite in the 
 case before us : nothing^ I say, but to affirm that 
 being w, and not to deny our own evident percep- 
 tions. The first of these is the resolution of the 
 major, and the other of the minor, of both the fore- 
 going arguments, whereby I demonstrate the 
 impossibility of an external world: for can any 
 thing be more evident than that finite and infinite 
 are exclusive of each other ; and that an idea which 
 implies both is an impossibility in fact? And can 
 we pretend to perceive any thing at all, when we 
 pretend to doubt whether this is not the fact or im- 
 plication of external matter ? Should we doubt in 
 this manner, if the subject spoken of were a circu- 
 lar square, or triangular parallellogram ? If not, I 
 would fain know where our ignorance lies, which is 
 the foundation of the objection? We are ignorant 
 indeed that there is any such thing as external mat- 
 ter, (and one would think for this reason we should 
 be so far from having any partiality towards the 
 being of it, that we should conclude of course that 
 there is no such thing in being,) but on the other 
 hand we cannot so much as pretend ignorance of 
 the premises by which this conclusion is enforced. 
 They are as evident as the light, and also (as far as 
 ever I could inform myself) universally acknow- 
 ledged : where then is the difficulty, supposed by 
 the fbrementioned author, in the question about the 
 divisibility of matter, &c. wherewith it is so good 
 to fatigue our presumptuous minds ? Why, na 
 where that I can think but here, viz. to conceive 
 how it is possible that such a thing can exist, w r hose 
 idea implies so manifest a contradiction: and if 
 this be all the difficulty, it immediately vanishes, 
 or loses its name, as soon as we suppose that there 
 is no such thing or matter, or make this the ques- 
 
tion, whether there be any such thing, or not? For 
 then, instead of difficulty, it becomes light arid 
 argument, and is no other than a demonstration 
 of the impossibility of its existence. But now, 
 
 5. This does not in the least affect so as to be- 
 come a parallel case with the doctrine of the trinity, 
 &c. and that for several reasons. As, 
 
 First, In that all who believe this doctrine are 
 very ready to acknowledge (and that with reason 
 too) that there is something incomprehensible in it; 
 whereas in the demonstrations by which external 
 matter is proved to be both finite and infinite, (viz. 
 in extent and divisibility,) I have shewn already, no 
 ignorance can be so much as pretended. Then 
 again, 
 
 Secondly, the articles of our faith concerning the 
 trinity, &c. are, by consent, allowed to be exempt 
 or particular cases, such as are not to be made pre- 
 cedents for our believing any other points, notwith- 
 standing the difficulties which are seen to attend 
 them. And this, 
 
 Thirdly, for a very good reason ; namely, because 
 as to the truth or fact of these doctrines we have an 
 evidence irrefragable from another quarter, (which 
 is at least equal to the evidence of reason,) viz. the 
 word of God, which assures us of these things, 
 whereas we are, or are supposed to be, wholly igno- 
 rant of the being or existence of an external world. 
 And after all, 
 
 Lastly, I utterly deny that there is any contra- 
 diction in the doctrines of the trinity, &c. even ra- 
 tionally considered, which circumstance makes this 
 and the case of an external world to the last degree 
 unparallel. But now, it is the parallellism of these 
 points which is the thing contended for in the ob- 
 jection; and if so, where is the man that with a 
 serious face will argue this matter with me ? Who 
 
 TI 
 
( 58 ) 
 
 v\ill say, I will not ghe up my judgment for an ex- 
 ternal, invisible, unknown \vorld, notwithstanding 
 the manilest contradictions which attend the men- 
 tion of it, on any other terms but that of affirming 
 or granting that there is a contradiction in the 
 doctrine of the ever-blessed trinity? A socini- 
 an or arian will not say this, it being evident that 
 the objection is very nonsense in their mouths ; and 
 sure I am that an orthodox person would be ashamed 
 to say so: and yet, if it be not granted immediately 
 that there is (as far as our understandings can dive 
 or penetrate) a contradiction in the supposed arti- 
 cle* of the trinity, c. the objection (even on this 
 account alone) is without all foundation, and is no 
 other than an ignoratio elenchi^ in other words, talk- 
 ing of chalk with those that talk of cheese. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 ARGUMENT V. 
 
 ANOTHER argument, whereby it is to be de- 
 monstrated that there is no external world, is, that 
 in such a world it is impossible there should be any 
 such thing as motion ; or rather (lest this should not 
 seem absurdity enough to stop men's judgments in 
 favour of such a world) it may be proved from the 
 most simple and evident ideas, both that there may, 
 and also ihat there cannot be, any motion in it. 
 
 That there may be motion in an external world, 
 is sufficiently evident from this, that it is supposed 
 to be a creature: if so, I have an almighty power 
 on my side to help forward the conclusion, namely, 
 that it is moveable. And the argument in form will 
 stand thus. 
 
 The power of God is sufficient to move created 
 matter. 
 
( 59 ) 
 
 But external matter is supposed to be created; 
 
 Ergo, the power of God is sufficient to move it. 
 
 On the other hand, nothing is more evident than 
 the impossibility of motion in an external world, 
 considered as external. And that, first, in the whole; 
 secondly, as to the several parts of it. 
 
 I. As to the whole I argue thus ; 
 
 An infinite body or expansion is not capable of 
 being moved by any power whatsoever, 
 
 But an external world is infinite in expansion ; 
 
 Ergo, an external world is absolutely immoveable, 
 or incapable of being moved by any power what- 
 soever. 
 
 That an infinite expansion is absolutely immove- 
 able is too evident to be proved, unless this will be 
 admitted as something more so ; namely, that mo- 
 tion supposes a place possessed, and afterwards 
 quitted for another, which yet is impossible and con- 
 tradictory, when affirmed of an expansion or body 
 actually infinite, which, as such, implies the pos- 
 session of all place already; which circumstance 
 therefore makes the motion of such a body or world a 
 fact absolutely impossible. And then, 
 
 Secondly, that an external world, as such, is in- 
 finite in expansion. I appeal to those arguments 
 whereby this proposition is usually proved by phi- 
 losophers, and which are allowed by all to be de- 
 monstrative. I shall not here fill my paper with 
 the mention of any one, because I suppose my rea- 
 der does not need my information, and also because 
 it will be time enough to do this, when I am adver- 
 tized of an adversary. I shall only observe this, 
 (as believing it may be of some use to those who 
 shall be at the pains of considering this matter,) 
 namely, that whatever arguments have been used 
 to prove the world to be infinite in extent, will 
 be found to have proceeded on the formal no- 
 tion of its being external; whereas those which have 
 
( 60 ) 
 
 been produced on the contradictory part have been 
 altogether silent as to this idea, and have proceeded 
 either on the idea of its being created, or on the 
 Absurdities attending the supposition of infinite; 
 by which proceeding it has still been granted, that 
 notwithstanding these arguments and absurdities, an 
 external world, as such, must needs be infinite. 
 Since therefore an infinite world or expansion is not 
 capable of being moved, I conclude that an exter- 
 nal world, considered in the whole, is a being ab- 
 solutely immoveable. 
 
 II. In like manner it seems to be impossible 
 that there should be any such thing as motion in 
 an external world, considered in the several parts of 
 it. 
 
 For motion is supposed to be a translation of a bo- 
 dy from one point or place to another. Islow in such 
 Translation the space or line through which the body 
 moved is supposed to pass, must be actually divi- 
 ded into all its parts. This is supposed in the very 
 idea of motion : but this all is infinite, and this in- 
 finite is absurd, and consequently it is equally so, 
 that there should be any motion in an external 
 World. 
 
 That an external line or space is compounded 
 of infinite parts or points, is evident by the same 
 argument by \* hich any body or part of matter 
 (supposed to be external) is proved, and also al- 
 lowed to be so; namely, from the idea of its being- 
 quantity, body, or extension, and consequently di- 
 visible, and not annihilable by division, which last 
 is supposed in the idea of its being external. But 
 then, on the other hand, to affirm that a line by mo- 
 tion or otherwise is divided into infinite parts, is in 
 my opinion to say all the absurdities in the world 
 at once. For, 
 
 First, This supposes a number actually infinite, 
 that is, a number to which no unit can be added, 
 
which is a number of which there is no sum total, 
 that is, no number at all ; consequently, 
 
 Secondly, By this means the shortest motion be- 
 comes equal to the longest, since a motion to which 
 nothing can be added must needs be as long as pos- 
 sible. This also, 
 
 Thirdly, will make all motions equal in swiftness, 
 it being impossible for the swiftest in any stated 
 time to do more than pass through infinite points, 
 which yet the shortest is supposed to do. To which 
 may be added, 
 
 Lastly, That such motion as this, however short 
 in duration, must yet be supposed to be a motion, 
 of all or infinite ages, since to every point of space 
 or line through which any body is supposed to pass, 
 there must be a point of time correspondent: but 
 infinite points of time make an infinite time or du- 
 ration, &c. 
 
 These are some of the absurdities which attend 
 the supposal of motion in an external world ; whence 
 I might argue simply, that such a world is impos- 
 sible: but lest, as 1 said before, this should not be 
 thought absurdity enough, that is, lest any one 
 should admit such a world, notwithstanding the im- 
 possibility of motion in it, I rather chuse to defend 
 and urge both parts of the contradiction, and con- 
 clude the impossibility of the being of such a world, 
 from both the possibility and impossibility of motion 
 in it. The argument in form stands thus. 
 
 A world, in which it is both possible and impossible 
 that there should be any such thing as motion, is 
 not at all ; 
 
 But this is the case of an external world; 
 
 Ergo, there is no such world. 
 
 I suppose I need not here remind my reader 
 that I have proved already, and that it is here sup- 
 posed, that a visible or sensible world is not ex- 
 ternal ; neither, if he has at all gone along with me 
 
( 62 ) 
 
 in this discourse, need I undertake to shew that 
 these absurdities about motion do not in the least 
 affect a sensible or visible world, but only an exter- 
 nal world. Nevertheless, if upon a due perusal of 
 what I have here written, this seems yet to be want- 
 ing, I shall be ready, as soon as called upon, to 
 give my reader the best satisfaction 1 am capable 
 of as to this matter. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 ARGUMENT VI. 
 
 AGAIN, it is with me an argument against the 
 being of an external world, that there is no hy- 
 pothesis of vision, that I can imagine, or ever heard 
 of, on the supposition of such a world, but what in 
 the fact or act of it implies an impossibility. 
 
 I pretend not to have conversed with the writings 
 of philosophers ; I am sure not enough with their 
 persons, to know all the opinions there are or may 
 have been about the method of vision ; and so must 
 content myself with those that I have met with, 
 ivhich are only these two that at this time I can re- 
 member, or think worth the repeating. 
 
 One is the Aristotelian, or old account, which 
 supposes certain images to scale off from external ob- 
 jects, and fly in at the eye, &c. and the other is the 
 Cartesian, or new hypothesis, which, instead of 
 images, or resemblances of objects, scaling off from 
 the objects themselves, accounts for vision from the 
 reflection of subtle matter, (viz. that which proceeds 
 in a direct line from the sun) from the object to the 
 eye, &c. 
 
 I stand not here to enquire which of these is true, 
 or the most probable account of vision, on the sup- 
 position of an external world, being here concerned 
 not in physics, but metaphysics, or an enquiry 
 
( 63 ) 
 
 into simple, not hypothetical, truth. Neither am 
 I concerned to consider these two hypotheses apart, 
 though they are so vastly different; for as different 
 as they are upon the whole, they agree in all that 
 which I am concerned to take notice of, namely, that 
 the act of vision is the effect of certain parts of 
 matter, (whether images, or not,) which proceeding 
 from the objects, respectively affect or act upon the 
 optic nerve, &c. 
 
 This is that which I take to be an impossibility, 
 or so attended with difficulties in the actu exercito 
 of it, as to be the nearest to an impossibility of any 
 thing that we know of. For, 
 
 First, these parts, as being material or extended, 
 must needs be impenetrable, that is, they must each 
 possess a space by itself, and cannot (two or more, 
 much more an infinite number of them) be crouded 
 into one point, or the place of one. Nevertheless 
 it is possible for a man's eye in one and the same 
 point to see a vast and almost infinite number of 
 objects which are in heaven and on earth. There 
 is then a necessity that from each of these bodies 
 there should be communicated or sent a line or train 
 of subtle parts or images upon the one point of the 
 eye, which, how it is possible to be in fact, I leave 
 to be considered by all those who profess to know 
 what they mean, when they say, bodies are impe- 
 netrable. 
 
 Secondly, there is not any one point in the uni- 
 verse, wherein the eye supposed or fixed, cannot 
 perceive an innumerable company of objects. There 
 is not then any one point in the universe, wherein 
 lines of subtle matter, or images, from all these sup- 
 posed innumerable objects, do not actually con- 
 centre. If this is thought possible by any, I must 
 be content to leave it with them, since nothing is 
 more evident with me, than that the fact of this is 
 utterly impossible. 
 
( 64 ) 
 
 From these and such like absurdities, which attend 
 every hypothesis of vision in an external world, 
 I think I am bound to conclude that there is no 
 such world. For it seems to me at present, that 
 if there is an external world, one or other of these 
 accounts of vision must needs be the true, 'that is 
 fact. But as these appear to be impossible in fact, 
 they seem to derive their impossibility upon the 
 world which they belong to, or which supposes 
 them. 
 
 This, I say, will follow, till some other account 
 of vision, in an external world, be produced or 
 named, which is not liable to these, or any like ab- 
 surdities ; or which even on the concession of an 
 external world, may not plainly be demonstrated 
 to be false. 
 
 In the mean time nothing of all this affects a 
 sensible or visible world, supposed and granted to be 
 not external. For then, any hypothesis of vision, 
 which has no other falsehood in it, but what is de- 
 rived upon it from the non-existence or impossi- 
 bility of an external world, will be the true hypo- 
 thesis, or account of vision. For, by truth in this 
 case, will then be meant no other than the will of 
 God, the great author of nature, who giveth us 
 such and such sensations, by such and such laws. 
 And in this sense, a law or rule of vision, may be 
 possible and even true in its cause, though it has 
 no truth in its self, or is impossible in fact. And 
 so, with this explanation, I am very ready to say, 
 that the second, or Cartesian account is the true hy- 
 pothesis of vision. For, though there be indeed no 
 external world, yet such a world exists as far as 
 it is possible; and it has been granted in the begin- 
 ning, that it is according to the will of God, that 
 the visible world should carry in it every charac- 
 ter of being external, except the truth of fact, 
 which is absolutely impossible. But the discovery 
 
( 65 ) 
 
 of this last is within the province of metaphysics, 
 which has to do only with simple being or existence; 
 whereas this about the method of vision -is a ques- 
 tion of a grosser size, and a much lower degree of 
 abstraction; and its resolution is to be sought for 
 only in the will of God, by which he willed his crea- 
 tures, viz. material creatures. But in this will we' see 
 an external world, even an external visible world, 
 as I observed just now. So that this being the first 
 will, must be first supposed, or taken for granted 
 by consent. And then, I believe, it will be found 
 that this account of vision (as well as several parts 
 of the same philosophy which have been objected 
 against) will have lost all its difficulty, and must 
 pass for true. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 ARGUMENT VII. 
 
 AGAIN, as by an external world we are sup- 
 posed to mean certain objects which do not exist in, 
 or in dependance on, any mind or faculty of percep- 
 tion, at least of any creature ; so when I contemplate 
 the idea of such a self-subsisting being, I profess I 
 am put hard to it to reconcile it with the character 
 of a creature, or to discover how it can be under- 
 stood to subsist at all on the mind, or will, or power, 
 of God, who is supposed to be the creator of it. For, 
 
 First, as to its being simply, it is past my skill to 
 distinguish it from being simple, absolute, or uni- 
 versal. We are taught indeed to say, that every 
 creature of God needs the same power to preserve, 
 which was necessary to the creation of it ; and Chris- 
 tian philosophers are generally agreed, that this 
 power of God is so necessary to the preservation, or 
 
 i 
 
( 66 ) 
 
 continued being, of every creature as such, that it 
 must return to its primitive nothing, merely from 
 the abstraction or withdrawing of this power. 
 
 But do we understand what we say, when we ap- 
 ply this doctrine to an external world, either in the 
 whole, or in the several parts of it ? We see it in- 
 deed in the idea which we have of creature, and in 
 the absurdities which attend an absolute existence 
 applied to any thing but God alone; but do we see 
 any such dependance as to being or existence in the 
 idea, which we conceive of an external world? Con- 
 sider but this house, this tree, this any thing amongst 
 the objects of an external world, or of the visible 
 world, supposed (as usual) to be external, is there 
 any sign of weakness or dependance in any of these 
 things considered by us in this view ? Will not an 
 external house stand or be, unless a foreign power 
 continue to support it : Or does it seem to us to be 
 any thing like those things of which we speak, when 
 we speak of certain beings which have no subsis- 
 tence of their own, no truth of being but in relation 
 or resemblance, and which would cease to be, barely 
 by an abstraction of a supporting power, which 
 is different from the things themselves? A house in- 
 deed may be a good, or useful, or convenient house, 
 only as it stands related to an idea in the mind, or 
 intellect of its maker, and may be said to stand in 
 its present form, only as supported by certain fo- 
 reign causes; but we are speaking here, not of the 
 external form, but of the simple truth or being of 
 things ; and even in this respect we say that things 
 subsist altogether by a relation to the intellect, or 
 in dependance on the will of God. But I say, does 
 this seem to be the case of an external piece of 
 matter ? Do we conceive this as having no absolute 
 being, or substance of its own ? as a mere nothing, 
 but by resemblance, and what would cease to be or* 
 1 he instant of the cessation of God's will to present 
 
( 67 ; 
 
 *u r l know what another may answer to uii these 
 questions, and I cannot help it, let men answer what 
 they will; but still I must insist and say, that if ano- 
 ther will affirm, that he thus conceives of external 
 matter, he must teach me to do the same from some 
 other idea besides that of creature, namely, from the 
 consideration of the thing itself; or else I must con- 
 clude that he affirms this, not because he under- 
 stands any thing of the matter spoken of, but be- 
 cause the truth in general forces him to say this. 
 But this is the chief thing which makes against his 
 point. For to say that external matter exists wholly 
 on the will of God, because this is the condition of 
 a creaturely existence, is only to say in general, that 
 the existence of a creature is necessarily thus depeii- 
 dant. But this is what I affirm : and hence arises the 
 difficulty, viz. how we can conceive external matter 
 to exist by this rule, or how to reconcile the abso- 
 lute and stable existence of matter supposed to be 
 external, with this necessary and indispensable cha- 
 racter of a creature's being. My business is to 
 deny that there is any such creature for this reason, 
 because it carries in the idea of it an absolute kind 
 of existence, which no creature is capable of; and 
 for this I appeal to the judgment of all others ; so 
 that if another will yet contend that there is any 
 such creature, he must not argue with me that it 
 does and must so exist because it is a creature, for 
 this is plainly begging the question; but must 
 make answer on the other hand, how a creature, 
 which is and must be understood to have a self- sub- 
 sistence, or a proper substance of its own, can be 
 said to exist, whilst it is acknowledged, as before, that 
 every creature, as such, exists altogether in depen- 
 dance on the power or will of God. This is the 
 difficulty which attends an external world, consi- 
 dered in its several parts. And this, 
 
 Secondly, is rather increased, if we consider it in 
 
( 68 ) 
 
 the whole ; for then nothing but its expansion comes 
 under consideration. And this is plainly infinite. 
 And if not infinite nothing, must be infinite some- 
 thing, that is, being or substance. But is there any 
 thing in this idea which squares with the indispen- 
 sable character of a creature ? For this I appeal to 
 every one's idea of an expanded universe, particu- 
 larly to theirs, who (if I may guess,) are not a few, 
 who from the consideration of the firm and sub- 
 stantial existence of the visible world, supposed by 
 them to be external, think themselves compelled to 
 believe, that simple space or extension is the very 
 substance of God himself; and therefore how to 
 conceive it possible that such a thing should exist, 
 which on one hand we are compelled to call a 
 creature, and on the other cannot forbear to un- 
 derstand as God, I leave to be explained by those 
 who yet retain any fondness for such a thing. 
 Thus much of the existence simple of an external 
 world ; I come next to consider the unity which it 
 implies. 
 
 Here then I observe, that an external world im- 
 plies in it all the unity, which any being whatsoever, 
 which universal being, which God himself is cap- 
 able of. 
 
 Consider it in its whole, and it has the unity of 
 infinity. It is one alone, and is absolutely incapable 
 of being multiplied by any power whatsoever ; which 
 is as much as can be said of God, and even more 
 than they have a right to say, who consider him, not 
 as universal, but some particular being. Consider 
 it in its several parts, or bodies included in it, and 
 each particle of matter has such a unity in, or iden- 
 tity with itself, as I think should not be ascribed to 
 any thing but God, who alone is the same yesterday, 
 to-day, and for ever. Again, I consider, that an ex- 
 ternal world, is independent on the will of God, con- 
 sidered in its expansion, which will and must be 
 
( 69 ) 
 
 infinite, whether God pleases to make, or will it to 
 be so or not, supposing only that he wills to pro- 
 duce or make any the least extent, or that any the 
 least part or extent is made, or in being. 
 
 As for instance, let God be supposed to will the 
 being of a certain cubical part of matter or exten- 
 sion, about the bigness of a common die. This, I 
 say, is impossible in fact, and this draws another 
 impossibility after it, which is, that by this the will 
 of God is over-ruled or frustrated by the work of 
 his own hands. For what should bound this cu- 
 bical extent ? It must be something, or nothing. If 
 nothing, it is plainly infinite; if something, it must 
 be matter or extension ; and then the same ques- 
 tion returns, and will infinitely return, or be never 
 satisfied under an extent actually infinite. But this 
 is an independency of being, which I think can be- 
 long to no creature, it being the same with that 
 which we use to call necessary existence. 1 con- 
 clude therefore that there is no such creature as au 
 external world. 
 
 Lastly, much the same sort of difficulty occurs if 
 we consider it in not being, after it has been sup- 
 posed to exist. That God can annihilate every 
 creature which he has made, is, I think, a maxim 
 undisputed by any; if so, I think it plainly follows, 
 that that which in its idea implies an utter impos- 
 sibility of being annihilated, is a thing in fact im- 
 possible. But this, I say, is the case or implication 
 of an external world. This is evident from the 
 foregoing article, which shews the absolute necessity 
 of its being infinite, on the supposition of the being 
 of but the least part or particle of it : for certainly 
 if nothing less than infinite can exist, or be made, 
 no part of this infinite can be unmade, or annihi- 
 lated. And therefore though in words we may say 
 that God can annihilate any part of it, yet we ut- 
 ter that in words, of which we can have no con- 
 
( 70 ) 
 
 ception, but rather the contrary to it. For annihi- 
 late it in supposition as often as you will, yet still 
 it returns upon you ; and whilst you would conceive 
 it as nothing, it becomes something to you against 
 your will; and it is impossible to think otherwise, 
 whatever we may say. 
 
 I believe I should lose my time and pains if 1 
 should attempt in this place to shew, that the sup- 
 position of a visible, which is not an external world,, 
 is attended with none of these difficulties. This 
 would be a thankless office with all those who ar# 
 not yet convinced, but that an external world may 
 yet stand, notwithstanding these pretended difficul- 
 ties; and it would be an injury to those that are, 
 as preventing them in certain pleasant and very 
 easy considerations. And so I leave it to take its 
 chance with all my readers in common. 
 
 CHAP. VI I F. 
 ARGUMENT VIII. 
 
 ANOTHER difficulty which still attends the 
 notion of an external world, is, that if any such 
 world exists, there seems to be no possibility of 
 conceiving, but that God himself must be extended 
 with it. 
 
 This I take to be absurdity enough in reason, to 
 hinder us from supposing any such world. But so 
 unfortunate are the stars of this idol of our imagi- 
 nation, that it is as much impossible, on another ac- 
 count, that it should exist, though this were no ab- 
 surdity, or though it were supposed and allowed 
 that God himself were extended. 
 
 I suppose then in the first place, that God is not 
 extended. If so, I say there can be no external 
 
( 71 ) 
 
 world. For if there be an external world, and if it 
 be a creature, we must suppose that God is every 
 where present in, and with it -, for he is supposed to 
 preserve and do every thing that is done in it. 
 To deny this, is to shut him out of the universe, 
 even altogether to deny his being. On the contrary, 
 to affirm that he is thus present with every part and 
 particle of it, is to make him co-extended, which is 
 contrary to the supposition. 
 
 Yes, it may be said, God is extended, and con- 
 sequently there may be an external world, notwith- 
 standing this dilemma. I answer, 
 
 Secondly, be it so that he is extended, (to hu- 
 mour a corrupt and absurd itch of argumen- 
 tation,) yet this avails nothing towards the being of 
 an external world, but directly towards the non- 
 existence of it. For if God be extended, and as 
 we must also say infinitely extended, where shall 
 we find room for an external world ? Can two ex- 
 tensions, infinite extensions, coexist ? This is evi- 
 dently impossible. So that all the choice we are 
 left to is to acknowledge God or an external world ; 
 which, I think, is a choice we need not long be de- 
 liberating upon. I conclude, therefore, that if God 
 is, there is no external world. 
 
 I know but one way of answering this argument, 
 and that is, to affirm that an external world is 
 God himself, and not a creature of God. Buj; ti!l 
 some one shall be so hardy as to appear publicly 
 in defence of this, I shall think it but a loss of time 
 and pains to consider of or debate it. 
 
 CHAP IX. 
 ARGUMENT IX. 
 
 I promised in some part of argument IV. that I 
 would consider farther a*' uji?+ t>^i ?ri( ^-'" Ray of 
 
external matter ; and here I intend to be as good 
 as my word. 
 
 I have shewn in my former part of this treatise*, 
 that the matter so much disputed of by philosophers 
 is not understood by them to be visible. This of 
 itself is an argument that they had, or could pre- 
 tend to have, but a very faint and imperfect idea 
 of the thing they were speaking of. Accordingly, 
 I shall here proceed to shew, that they neither did, 
 nor could, pretend to mean any thing at all by it. 
 And, 
 
 First, for the definitions which they have deli- 
 vered to us of matter, Aristotle defines it thus. 
 H* fan.airiov l| 7/vsTa/ n. Materia est ex qua res, 
 vcl aliquod est. This, by no inconsiderable philo- 
 sopher f, is called optima definitio materice. And 
 the same is by Baronius (Metaph. page 172.) defined 
 thus. Materia substantialis est substantia incom- 
 pleta in qua forma aliqua substantialis existit. And 
 sometimes again thus, Substantia incompleta capax 
 forma;. 
 
 These are all the definitions that I shall mention, 
 and these I suppose are sufficient to convince us 
 that they meant nothing at all by the matter which 
 they here speak of. For what is there in either 
 of these definitions besides the indeterminate notion 
 of being in general, that is, something, but nobody 
 knows what, or whether it be any thing at all or no. 
 This I say is all that I can make or understand 
 by it ; and this amounts to the same, as if they had 
 told us in plain words, that they mean nothing at 
 all. But this, 
 
 Secondly, they tell us yet more expressly in the 
 descriptions and characters which they give of 
 matter. 
 
 * Chap. I. Sect. ii. Argument 5. f Scheib. Met, Cap. 22. 158. 
 
( 73 ) 
 
 As for instance Baronius * delivers it as the corn- 
 mon sense of all philosophers, that Materia non cst 
 in prtedicamento, and that non habet proprie dictum 
 genus. This is the same as if he had told us in ex- 
 press words, that the most they mean by it, is being 
 indefinite, or something, but they know not what. 
 For that which is not in the predicaments, is al- 
 lowed to be neither substance nor accident, (un-* 
 less it be God, or universal being,) and what is nei- 
 ther of these is confessedly nothing at all. 
 
 Again, St. Austin is always quoted by philoso- 
 phers for his description of matter, as an explanation 
 of the common meaning, and it is thus expressed f. 
 Materia est infima omnium rerum, 8f prope nihiL 
 
 Much after the same manner it is described by 
 Porphyry J, Materia prima ex seest incorporea, neq; 
 intellectus, neq ; ani?na,neq; aliud secundum se vi- 
 vcns, informisy immutabilis y infinita, impotent, qua- 
 propter neque ens, sed verum non-ens. But this is a 
 little more than prope nihil, and I suppose may be 
 said to amount fully to the snse of the English word, 
 nothing. 
 
 In like manner Aristotle himself, who has given 
 almost all other philosophers their cue, is for nothing 
 better known than for his most intelligible description 
 of substantial matter. He calls it nee quid, nee quale, 
 nee quantum , to which I think I may fairly add, 
 nee aliquid) as the proper sense and consequence of 
 this description. Nay, to confirm this as the true 
 interpretation and design of his words, I have many 
 times seen him quoted by his followers, for saying 
 positively that materia est non ens; one instance of 
 which I particularly remember, viz. ScheibL Metaph. 
 Cap, 22. 167. 
 
 * Met. p. 189- t L. 12. Confess, cap. 7 
 
 J Lib. de Occasionib. c. 21. 
 K 
 
( 74 ) 
 
 Perhaps so, you will say, but yet all philosophers 
 are agreed in the being of it, and all argue it to be, 
 or to have a real existence. I answer, 
 
 First, If they will contradict their own positions, 
 as it is not in my power to help, so it is hard that I 
 should suffer for it. But, secondly, how is it that 
 they argue the existence of matter? Do they argue 
 it with a supposed adversary, or only with them- 
 selves? If with themselves only, this is nothing at 
 all; for in this case they may have the question for 
 asking ; and so this kind of arguing is only grimace 
 and banter. But if they argue it with an adversary, 
 who is supposed to doubt it, I am this adversary, 
 and let their reasons be produced. 
 
 In the mean time I affirm that they argue only 
 with themselves ; that is, they grant themselves the 
 question, upon all occasions, and whensoever they 
 please. 
 
 Their arguments are such as these, some of which 
 I have mentioned already*. 
 
 Matter is, or exists, say they, because it zV, or is 
 supposed to be created. Here the adversary, if any, 
 is supposed to grant that it is created, but yet to 
 doubt whether it is, or exists, or not. That is, he is 
 supposed to be a drivelling fool, or no adversary at 
 all, which is plainly the case. 
 
 Again, matter is, or exists, because it is supposed 
 to be part of a real compositum. This is the very 
 same case as before. 
 
 For surely whoever can be brought to grant that 
 its a real part of a compositum, cannot be supposed 
 to doubt whether it exists or not. 
 
 Again, if matter were nothing, it could do no- 
 thing, it could not be the subject of generation and 
 corruption ; but this last is supposed (thanks to the 
 kind opponent !) Ergo, matter is not nothing. 
 
 Again, (saith Christopher Schiebler, Cap. 15, 45.) 
 
 * Part I. Chap. i. Sect. II. Arg. VI. 
 
( 75 ) 
 
 Materia habet essentiam y quid ens est. And with 
 the same ease you are told by all philosophers to- 
 gether, that ens est quod habet essentiam. This is 
 round about our coal-fire, in other words, arguing 
 in a circle, or no arguing at all. 
 
 Again, (Cap. 22, 167.) he puts the question sim- 
 ply, an materia sit ens. And this is the resolution 
 of it. If matter were not ens, it would be the same 
 thing to say, that any thing ft ex nihilo, as ex 
 materia. And again, it must be something, because 
 something is constituted of it. 
 
 These and such like (for I am tired with repeating 
 them) are the mighty arguments by which philoso- 
 phers demonstrate the being of external matter. If 
 you will take their words you may ; for I think no- 
 thing is more evident than that this is all you have 
 to do in the case ; unless (which I think much more 
 advisable) you will chuse to believe with me, that 
 they never designed any other than to amuse the ig- 
 norant, but yet to give every intelligent reader an 
 item, by this procedure, that the matter they are 
 speaking about is nothing at all. 
 
 If so, I have a vast authority on my side : which, 
 if not sufficient to inforce the conclusion simply 
 with all readers, because some there may be who 
 have but little opinion of this kind of authority, yet 
 with all must have this effect, to remove the preju- 
 dice which may lie on their minds against this my 
 conclusion, on the account of its appearing strange- 
 ness and novelty. And though some authors on 
 certain subjects may have good reason rather to 
 cherish than lessen the opinion of their novelty, yet 
 considering all things, if I were certain to have re- 
 moved what these are supposed to desire by any 
 thing I have said in the present chapter, I am per- 
 suaded it would avail me more in the event, than 
 ten thousand the most evident demonstrations with- 
 out it. And indeed it was the prospect of this effect 
 
( 76 ) 
 
 alone, which induced me to number this chapter 
 amongst rny arguments against the being of an ex- 
 ternal world. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Objections answered. 
 
 BUT now it is time to attend to what may be 
 urged on the other side, viz. in favour of an exter- 
 nal world. 
 
 But what favour can belong, or be due, to that 
 which is, or can be of no use, if it were in being, 
 which is all over contradiction, which is contrary to 
 the truth and being of God, and after all is sup- 
 posed to be utterly unknown? Who would ever 
 attempt to form an argument for the being of such 
 a thing as this ? For as unknown, it must be sup- 
 posed to be nothing, even by those who are pre- 
 paring themselves to prove that it is something. 
 So that well, may all particular objections be said 
 to be false or insufficient, when it is against the 
 supposition of the question to suppose any objec- 
 tions at all, or but the possibility of an objection. 
 
 Nevertheless, where men are thoroughly inclined 
 to hold fast their point, notwithstanding all the evi- 
 dence in the world to the contrary, there is a pos- 
 sible room for two or three things, which, for aught 
 I know, some persons may call objections. And 
 they are these that follow. 
 
 Objection 1. 
 
 Does not the scripture assure us of the existence 
 of an external world. 
 
 Answer. 
 \ 
 
 I. Not as I know of. If it does, you would 
 
( 77 ) 
 
 do well to name to me that text wherein this is 
 revealed to us ; otherwise, I have no way to an- 
 swer this objection but that of taking into conside- 
 ration every sentence in the whole bible, which I am 
 sure you will believe is more than I need do. But, 
 2. To do this objection all the right I can, I will 
 suppose a passage or two in the word of God ; and 
 I should think, if such a one is any where to be found, 
 it will be in the first chapter of Genesis, where Moses 
 speaks of the creation of the material world. Here 
 it is said, that in the beginning God created, the hea- 
 ven and the earth, and also that all material things 
 were made some days before the first man, and so 
 cannot be said to exist only relatively on the mind 
 of man. To this I answer, 
 
 1. This objection from scripture is taken from 
 Mr. Malebranche*, and is his last resort on which to 
 found the being of an external world. But then the 
 external world, which he contends for, is proved by 
 him before, and here supposed to be no object of 
 sense, and consequently invisible. And it was for 
 this reason (it being an objection peculiar to this 
 author) that I deferred the mention of it to this place, 
 where also an external world is supposed to be in- 
 visible. Here then my answer to the author is this, 
 that the tendency of this passage of scripture is not 
 to prove the being of an external (supposed to be 
 an) invisible world, but the external being or ex- 
 istence of the visible world : for it is here supposed 
 that the visible world existed before the first man 
 saw it. But this is as much against himself as me, 
 and therefore is no objection, as coming from that 
 quarter. But another may think that there is an an- 
 swer due, not only to the author, but to the ob- 
 jection itself. Be it so, I answer, 
 
 2, That it seems to me there is nothing in this 
 
 * Search's Illustr. Tom, 11. p, 114. Taylor's Translation. Ed. 2. 
 
( 78 ) 
 
 passage which affirms the visible world to be exter- 
 nal. And my reason for this is, because there is no- 
 thing in it but what is very consistent with believing 
 that the visible world is not external. 
 
 For first, is it said that God created the heaven 
 and earth ? Meaning by it, that all those things 
 which either we or any other intelligent crea- 
 tures behold, are not their own causes of existence, 
 or of an existence necessary, but receive and derive 
 their whole being from another cause, viz. God. Is 
 any thing of this denied in consequence of affirming, 
 that a visible object, as such, is not external ? Or, 
 does this make it to be of necessary existence, or to 
 be its own cause, or to be the effect of any thing but 
 the will of God, who after the counsel of his own 
 will gives or causes such and such sensations in us ? 
 Or, secondly, is there (as some learned interpreters 
 have thought) a particular sense and meaning in 
 the words, in principle, E'v fyxf or JTiMFn, as if 
 one design of the text was to tell us, that God the 
 father made all things by and through, and in, his 
 Son, who is frequently in scripture characterized by 
 this, as by a proper name ? Jf so, is it inconsistent 
 with this doctrine to hold that a visible object, as 
 such, is not external to the mind or faculty which 
 perceives it ? So far from this, that this doctrine 
 seems to be intelligible only on this hypothesis ; and 
 I think I have shewn already, that an external 
 world, as such, (whether visible or invisible) is of 
 too absolute an existence to exist only in the mind 
 or will of God, or the son of God, as every creature 
 is said to do in this text. So that if this text, thus 
 interpreted, proves any thing to the present purpose, 
 it proves the contrary to that which it is alledged 
 for. Or, thirdly, is it said, that the visible world 
 existed, or had its being, before the first man Adam 
 was created? And did it not thus exist when fyw 
 beheld it, when it had past the Wisdom, and was 
 
( 79 ) 
 
 come into the will of God ?" Or might not the an- 
 gels see and live in it, (who knows how long) be- 
 fore the man whom we call Adam was produced 
 into being ? Or, lastly, must all this go for nothing 
 because of the little syllable the, which is prefixed 
 in the text to the words heaven and earth ? as if by 
 this we were obliged to understand an absolute and 
 strict identity between the visible world, considered 
 in the will of God, or in the minds of the angels, 
 and that which was afterwards perceived by Adam ? 
 This is a slender thread indeed, whereon to hang 
 the whole weight of an universe. But must I my- 
 self be forbid the use of this important word the, 
 because I hold that a visible object is not external ; 
 and because in consequence of this position there 
 will be found only an identity of similitude between 
 the visible world which God made in the beginning, 
 and that which Adam had a sensation of; and con- 
 sequently between that which Peter and that which 
 John sees, at the same or different times ? Must I 
 never say that I have seen the sun, because on my 
 hypothesis the sun which I am supposed to see, is 
 not the same strictly with that which God seetli, 
 or which is seen by another person ? And must I 
 for this reason never use the expression of the vi- 
 sible world, the heaven and earth, &c. ? But then, 
 will that be denied to God, which is and must be 
 allowed to me ? Where then is there so much as au 
 appearance of an objection in the text before us? 
 For my part, I can see none, either in this, or any 
 other that I know of, in the word of God, but what 
 is fully answered in what I have replied to this; 
 and therefore cannot but believe that it would be 
 time ill spent to suppose or name any other. Yet, 
 thirdly, others I might very easily name, such as 
 .those which speak of the apparition of angeJs, of 
 several miracles, particularly that of coming into a 
 room whilst the doors were shut, c, which suppose 
 
( 80 ) 
 
 the visible world to be not external > and this would 
 be turning the objector's cannon against himself. 
 But I shall spare my reader, the objector and my- 
 self and so add no more particulars to my answer 
 in this place. 
 
 Objection 2. 
 
 Is there no allowance due or to be made to that 
 strong and natural inclination which all men have 
 to believe an external world ? 
 
 Answer 1. 
 
 You may remember the mention of this ob- 
 jection * before, where I told you it is the argu- 
 ment by which Mr. Des Cartes satisfied himself 
 of the existence* of an external world. 
 
 In my answer to it I supposed two things, either 
 that by an external world was meant the being of 
 a world, which, as external, is supposed to be in- 
 visible, or the external being of the visible world. 
 To the last of these meanings I have given in my 
 answer, which my reader either does or may recol- 
 lect at pleasure. I am now (according to my pro- 
 mise in that place) to make answer to this objection 
 in the first of the forementioned meanings. 
 
 This, in all right and reason, should be the true 
 intent and meaning of this great philosopher. For 
 my own part I think I could very easily shew, that 
 either he must mean this, or be inconsistent with 
 himself, which is to mean nothing at all ; and if so, 
 the objection is answered before any part of it is 
 considered. But I need not be at the trouble of 
 entering into this inquiry, it being sufficient in 
 this place to shew, that in the sense supposed it has 
 not the reality, or so much as the pretence, of being 
 an argument. And that is done in a word, by de- 
 
 * Part I. Chap. II. Objection 3. 
 
( 81 ) 
 
 Hying the s apposition of it, which is, that we have 
 any tlie least inclination to believe the existence 
 of an external world, supposed to be invisible. This 
 is evident at first sight, and yet this alone destroys 
 the whole force of the objection. " Strange! That 
 a person of Ml*. Des Cartes's sagacity should be 
 found in so plain arid palpable an oversight ; and that 
 the late ingenious Mr. Norris should be found tread- 
 ing in the same track, and that too upon a solemn and 
 particular disquisition of this matter. That whilst 
 on one hand they- contend against the common incli- 
 nation or prejudice of mankind, that the visible world 
 is not external, they should yet appeal to this same 
 common inclination for the truth or being of an ex- 
 ternal world, which on their principles must be said 
 to be invisible, and for. which therefore (they must 
 needs have known if they had considered it) there 
 neither is, nor can be, any kind of inclination." 
 
 Well, you will say, but is there no allowance due 
 to the natural inclination, which we all have to be-* 
 Heve that the visible world is external, and conse- 
 quently this way, that there is an external world. 
 
 Answer 2. 
 
 Yes certainly, provided you believe the truth, viz. 
 that there neither is, nor can be, any such thing as 
 an external world, you may freely make use of the 
 common language, (which is a creature of God, 
 and which by his messengers, and even in his own 
 person, he has sanctified to us the use of, if we be- 
 lieve the truth,) notwithstanding that there is scarce 
 a word in it, but what supposes the being of an ex- 
 ternal world, or that the visible world is external. 
 It is the truth which makes us free, and they only 
 are in bondage who are ignorant of the truth, or re- 
 fuse to admit it. If therefore it be true, that there 
 is no external world, common language is indeed 
 
( 82 ) 
 
 extremely corrupt; but they only are involved in 
 this corruption who know not this truth, or deny the 
 evidence of it. And the same arguments by which 
 it is demonstrated to be a truth, prove the use of 
 all language unclean to such as these. For such 
 are servants to the power of a corrupt language, 
 and know not their right of freedom from it; and 
 this makes them guilty of all the errors which it 
 supposes. Whereas those who know and believe 
 this truth, are free to use any language, or way of 
 speaking, wherein this truth is not formally or di- 
 rectly contradicted, without being accountable for 
 the corruption of human language. Thus we be- 
 lieve the circumvolution of the earth, and the central 
 rest of the sun, according to the Copernican system; 
 but yet so much is due to the natural inclination 
 which we all find in ourselves to believe the con- 
 trary, as to excuse and justify us in the use of a lan- 
 guage altogether Ptolemaic. Thus we know and 
 can demonstrate, that the light which we behold is 
 not any property or affection of the sun, supposed 
 to be in the heavens ; but an affection in, or be- 
 longing to ourselves ; yet we are altogether free from 
 the error of supposing the contrary, though we often 
 say that the sun is luminous, or words to that effect. 
 Thus again, when the sun shines full in our face, 
 though we know for certain that the pain we feel is 
 not in our eye, but only in our souls, yet so much is 
 due to the natural inclination, whereby we judge 
 that all sensations are in our bodies, that we are free 
 on a thousand occasions to suppose the contrary in 
 words, as we always do when we say, that the light 
 of the sun afflicts our eyes, or makes them sore, that 
 our head or tooth aches, or other words to this pur- 
 pose. Thus lastly, (to go but one step higher, even 
 that one which mounts us into that region of truth 
 or abstraction which the present theory supposes us 
 to be in,) though we know (as by this time 1 hope we 
 
( 83 ) 
 
 know) that an external world is a being absolutely 
 impossible: yet y or rather because we know this, we 
 are, on infinite occasions, free from the error on the 
 contrary side, though we use a language which con- 
 tinually supposes the visible world to be external. 
 This I say is the liberty of believing the truth, and 
 this truth thus believed, does so fully sanctify even 
 a corrupt and erroneous language to our use, as 
 to make it our duty, as well as liberty y (even a debt 
 we owe to the great Author of Nature and of lan- 
 guage,) to express our minds to each other in a 
 way suitable to our present state, though both our 
 nature and our language suggest and suppose the 
 contrary to this truth. And now I hope this ob- 
 jection is fully answered. But I expect another 
 in its place, (which is near about the same as to 
 force and consequence,) and that is to be told. 
 
 Objection 3. 
 
 That the late judicious Mr. Norris, who (in his 
 Ideal World, vol. i. chap, iv,) purposely considered 
 this question of an external world, was yet so far 
 from concluding as I have here clone, that he declares 
 it to be no other than errant scepticism to make a 
 serious doubt or question of its existence. 
 
 Answer. 
 
 I have chosen to place this in the form of an ob- 
 jection, that I may seem rather to defend myself, 
 than voluntarily oppose this author, for whose writ- 
 ings and memory 1 have a great esteem. But what 
 shall I say in this case ? Must I give up all the ar- 
 guments by which I have shewn that there is no 
 external w r orld, in complaisance to this censure, be- 
 cause it is the great and excellent Mr. Norris's? 
 But has he supported this saying by any arguments 
 in favour of that which he calls it scepticism to doubt 
 
( 84 ) 
 
 of? Has he proved an external world to be of the 
 number of those evident truths which are of no 
 reasonable doubt, nor to be seriously questioned 
 by any sober understanding? Or so much as pre- 
 tended to answer any argument alledged for its 
 non-existence? No, not a word of this is to be 
 found in the whole chapter, unless the argument 
 from inclination, which is the subject of the former 
 objection, will be here named against me. Well 
 then, and must this too pass for an argument, not- 
 withstanding that I have shewn the weakness of it? 
 And so, must all that I have hitherto contended 
 for, submit to the power of this great authority, on 
 peril of my being thought a sceptic? 
 
 But is not this the way to be betrayed into the 
 very dregs of scepticism, to make a doubt of one's 
 own most evident perceptions for fear of this im- 
 putation ? Or can a man give better proof that this 
 does not belong to him, than by putting (as I have 
 all along done) his cause or assertion on the issue 
 of a fair debate on plain reason and argument ? 
 And can any thing be a plainer mark of scepticism 
 than to refuse to stand, or be concluded by this 
 issue, appealing from thence to judgment or au- 
 thority ? This is what I said from the beginning, 
 and I have shewed it, I think, in every instance of 
 an objection since, that my adversary all along is 
 no other than prejudice, which is formal scepticism; 
 and yet nothing has been so constantly charged 
 against myself as this very imputation. And it is 
 this alone which has made it so considerable with 
 me, as to set formally about an answer to it. 
 
 But to speak particularly to the author's censure, 
 with which we are at present concerned. 
 
 Is it so much as true in fact that he has said any 
 such thing as is affirmed in the objection? This 
 perhaps even a sceptic will contend fairly with me; 
 ibr facts are the things they are observed to be most 
 
( 35 ) 
 
 fond of. Well, let this be tried (as it ought to be) 
 by his own words. 
 
 There are two, and as I remember but two, pas- 
 sages in this chapter which speak at all to this pur- 
 pose. One is page 188, the other 205. In the 
 first of these I immediately find these words. 
 <c Much less would I be suspected of indulging a 
 sceptical humour, under colour of philosophical 
 doubting, to such an extravagance as to make any 
 serious question of that general and collective ob- 
 ject of sense a natural world:" the other is this; 
 (t But as to the existence of bodies, though it be a 
 thing of no reasonable doubt, nor to be seriously 
 questioned by any sober understanding," &c. 
 
 Here the thing that is not to be doubted of, (at 
 the hazard of the sobriety of our understanding, 
 and upon peril of scepticism,) is the existence of 
 bodies, the existence of a natural world, which is 
 supposed to be the object of sense, Well, and 
 what is this to me ? Have I been doubting of the 
 existence of bodies ? Or of the natural or sensible 
 world ? Let the meanest of my readers be my 
 witness, that I have been so far from doubting of 
 any thing of this, that I have even contended on 
 all occasions that nothing is, or can be, more evi- 
 dent than the existence of bodies, or of a sensible 
 world. Have I repeated the same thing some hun- 
 dreds of times, and yet still is there need to have it 
 observed, than an external world is the moot point 
 between us? That, not the existence, but the extra- 
 existence of the sensible world, is the point I have 
 been arguing against ? And that, not a natural, 
 supposed to be a sensible, world, but an external 
 world, as such> is impossible? But there is not a 
 word of an external world in the two sentences be- 
 fore-mentioned; and therefore nothing in the least 
 against the conclusion which. I am concerned for. 
 
 True, you will say, but this was only a mistake 
 
( 86 ) 
 
 in the manner of expressing it ; for that the whole 
 drift and argument of this chapter supposes the 
 subject to be an external world. I answer, 
 
 Right; that is the thing I have been all this 
 while expecting, viz. a little of his argument in the 
 place of his authority ; and you see this we must 
 come to before there can be any decision. 
 
 But alas ! to what purpose ? For I find these 
 words in the very title of his chapter, viz. That the 
 existence of the intelligible is more certain than that 
 of the natural and sensible world. This destroys, 
 and doubly destroys, all again. For, first, here he 
 speaks not of an external, but sensible, world ; and 
 of this, not of its external existence, which is the 
 point I have been arguing against; but simply of 
 its existence, which is the point I have been arguing 
 for. And yet, 
 
 Secondly, His end proposed is not to aggravate, 
 but lessen, its certainty : and this is the drift and 
 argument of the whole chapter, at least of about 
 thirty pages of it ; the rest being employed in a 
 digression concerning the comparative certainty of 
 faith and reason. 
 
 But is this the main design and purpose of this 
 chapter, to lessen the evidence of an external world ? 
 To shew, (as he plainly does, and for which I refer 
 my reader, to shew, I say) that neither reason, nor 
 sense, nor revelation, is sufficient to assure us of 
 the existence of any such thing : nay, that the argu- 
 ment used by Des Cartes, before mentioned, in 
 which he places his last resort, falls short, and is de- 
 ficient, for which we have his own express words in 
 the 208th page? And can that same author say, in 
 the midst of all this, that the existence of an ex- 
 ternal world is a thing of no reasonable doubt, nor 
 to be seriously questioned by any sober understand- 
 ing, &c. surely it could be no mistake that he 
 omitted the word external, unless he designed to 
 
( 87 ) 
 
 question his own understanding, and formally pro- 
 nounce himself a sceptic. 
 
 Well, you will say, but it is matter of fact that 
 he has argued against something. I answer, he 
 has so, for it is evident to demonstration that he 
 has argued against himself; and not only so, but 
 also as sceptically as is possible. 
 
 For after all nothing is more evident, than that 
 his censure and arguments proceed upon the very 
 same subject ; and that is, not the external exist- 
 ence, but the existence simple of the natural 
 world. This natural world is sometimes by him 
 called bodies, sometimes the visible or sensible world : 
 being about to aggrandize the evidence, or ob- 
 jective certainty, as to us, of his intelligible or ideal 
 world, he endeavours to shew, that it is much more 
 certain to us than the existence of the natural, or 
 sensible) world ; and that because we have, 
 
 1. More, 
 
 2. Better, reasons to assure us of its existence. 
 These are his very words, as may be seen in the 
 
 188th page, even in that very page in which is found 
 the censure on all those who so much as offer to 
 question the existence of the natural world. But 
 now the fact is, that he does question its existence 
 both here, and throughout the whole course of this 
 chapter. What can be more evidently inconsistent, 
 more evidently sceptical, than this manner of pro- 
 ceeding? What! Doubt of the existence of bodies, 
 sensible bodies ? Well may this be called indulging 
 a sceptical humour under the colour of philosophical 
 doubting. And is this so called too by the very 
 person who does it? This is not only to be guilty of 
 scepticism himself, but also to be self-condemned. 
 
 The sum of this whole matter is this : if, by the ex- 
 istence of the sensible world, Mr. Norris, in this cen- 
 sure, is said to mean not the existence simple, but 
 the extra-existence of it, his arguments directly con- 
 
t 88 ) 
 
 tradict his censure, which is a full answer to his au- 
 thority in this matter. If on the other hand he be 
 said to mean as he himself speaks, this is, first of 
 all, nothing at all to me, who doubt not of the ex- 
 istence, but only of the extra-existence^ of the sen- 
 sible world : then, secondly, he is in this as much 
 contrary to himself, as on the other supposition, in 
 that he formally doubts of, and even argues against, 
 that which he calls it scepticism to doubt of. And, 
 thirdly, which is as bad as any of the rest, he 
 doubts formally of a point which is not capable of 
 being doubted of, viz. the simple existence of the 
 visible world. To all which, lastly, I may, and 
 also must, add this, that this second supposition is 
 something more than an if y it being evidently the 
 case in fact, that his whole discourse in this place 
 is only of the existence simple of the sensible or 
 visible world; and not a word of its extra-existence, 
 on the concession of its existence simple, is so much 
 as mentioned or implied. 
 
 I doubt not but on sight of the title page many 
 of my readers will judge, and be ready to say, 
 surely the whole world is full of arguments against 
 so strange an assertion, as that there is no external 
 world. And perhaps, in this place, some may 
 wonder that I end here with the mention of so few 
 objections: but let such as these try to add to their 
 number ; they may possibly find it more difficult 
 than they imagine. 
 
 la the mean time I expect to be understood by 
 some, when I ask their pardon for the trouble I 
 have given them, in thus seriously considering so 
 many trifling objections : objections which for the 
 most part have been lame on both their Jegs, the 
 language of prejudice only, and having scarce so 
 much as an appearance to introduce them. But 
 indeed I thought I could do no less, considering 
 the dispositions of far the greatest part of those 
 
( 89 ) 
 
 whom I have conversed with ; who will be so far 
 from blaming me on this account, that they will be 
 ready, even at this time, to take part with these ob- 
 jections. Even such as these I would please, if pos- 
 sible; but being too sure of the event, I have nothing 
 left to do, but to acquit myself, by cutting off all 
 occasion of offence which might be taken at my 
 leaving unmentioned, or unanswered, any objection 
 which I have heard, or found, or which may reason- 
 ably be judged I ought to have found : And in this 
 respect I profess 1 have done my best, which, I think, 
 is all that can be expected of me. 
 
 THE CONCLUSION OF THE WHOLE. 
 
 Of the use and consequences of the foregoing treatise* 
 
 HAVING demonstrated, as I think, my point 
 prefixed in the title page, viz. the utter impossibility 
 of an external world ; and supposing also that this 
 is here granted me by my reader ; he has a right to 
 demand, of what use and consequence is all this to 
 men, or to the moral world. 
 
 Now in order to return as plain and distinct an 
 answer as I can, and as can well be expected from 
 me in this place, to this question, I would chuse to 
 split it into two, making the words use and conse- 
 quence to stand for two different things : and I shall 
 begin with the last, viz. the consequences of this po- 
 
 M 
 
( 90 ) 
 
 sition, no external world. To the question concern- 
 ing which I have these two things to answer. 
 
 First, I know not why my reader should not take 
 my word, (I mean till he himself has made inquiry,) 
 when 1 assure him that the consequences of this po- 
 sition are exceeding many in number. If this will 
 pass, I again assure him, that I have found by more 
 than a ten years experience, or application of it to 
 divers purposes, that this is one of the most fruitful 
 principles that I have ever met with, even of general 
 and universal influence in the field of knowledge: 
 so that, if it be true, as is here supposed, it will 
 open the way to ten thousand other truths, and 
 also discover as many things to be errors, which 
 have hitherto passed for true. But this, 
 
 Secondly, may in some measure appear to my 
 attentive reader, even before he has made inquiry, 
 and though he makes some scruple of believing me 
 on my word : for he cannot but have taken notice, 
 that all language not only supposes, but is almost 
 wholly built on the supposition of, an external 
 world. With this is leavened all our common dis- 
 course, and almost every thing that is found in the 
 writings of philosophers : so that with half an eye it 
 must needs be seen, that were a man to call all his for- 
 mer thoughts and opinions, all he has read in books, or 
 heard in conversation, to an examination or review, 
 in the light of this position, he would find a mighty 
 work upon his hands, in correcting only former er- 
 rors, setting aside the positive part of deducing 
 truths in their room. 
 
 This> I think, is all that can be said in general, in 
 answer to the question concerning the consequences 
 of this position: and I believe my reasons will be 
 judged to be sufficient for not entering into the 
 particular deduction of these consequences: as first, 
 that this would be all over digression in this place : 
 and secondly, such a digression as would swell the 
 
( 91 ; 
 
 volume to more than ten times its present size : but 
 chiefly, thirdly, for that I know myself to be un- 
 qualified for so great a work, which is no less than 
 the compiling a new system, at least of general 
 knowledge. Perhaps the little which I have here 
 supplied may move some more comprehensive ge- 
 nius to begin where I conclude, and build something 
 very considerable on the foundation which is here 
 laid. But I must be allowed to be a proper judge 
 even in my own case, when I profess that I am far 
 from being equal to so vast an undertaking. How- 
 ever, secondly, I will add a word or two concerning 
 the use of the foregoing treatise : by this, as distinct 
 from the former head, I would be understood to 
 mean, 
 
 1. The subject matters with regard to which it 
 
 may be of use. 
 
 %. Its particular usefulness with regard to religion. 
 3. The proper manner after which it should be 
 
 used. 
 4th and lastly, the particular use and advantage 
 
 which I myself propose by it. 
 
 First, as to the subject matter, it may possibly be 
 asked, whether every thing must pass for false which 
 does not square with this hypothesis, supposing it 
 to be true? Or, whether because it is true, that 
 there is no external world, we must therefore use 
 this language in discourse, or writing on every kind 
 of subject ? To this I answer, 
 
 1. That I have in good measure prevented this 
 inquiry in my second answer to the second objec- 
 tion, Part II. where I have shewn that we are at 
 liberty, and also in some measure, obliged to use 
 the common language of the world, notwithstanding 
 that it proceeds almost wholly on the supposition of 
 an external world : for, first, language is a creature 
 
( 92 ) 
 
 of God, and therefore good, viz. for use, notwith- 
 standing this essential vanity which helongs to it. 
 By this God spake the world into being when he 
 said, Let there be light, let there be a firmament, a 
 sun, moon, and stars, &c. and they were: all these 
 things were made in the beginning, even in the 
 wordy and wisdom * and will of God ; and therefore 
 in him they are true, even externally true, according 
 to the language by which they were willed into 
 being, though in themselves they carry an impossibi- 
 lity of so existing. But this does not justify the 
 goodness of this language with regard to us; or 
 rather, justify us sinners in the use of this lan- 
 guage, without reflecting, secondly, that we are re- 
 deemed or recreated by the same Word of God, 
 who has taken on himself the iniquity of all things; 
 who, as one of us, has used this common language, 
 and even bore it with him on his cross ; who, by his 
 Spirit in his apostles, has spoken all the languages 
 of the world, making thereby every tongue his own, 
 and who, lastly, in a word, has pronounced every 
 thing to be clean to those who believe. I answer 
 therefore, 
 
 2. That there are certain subjects which require 
 the use of this common language; and on which, 
 to speak in the language of this hypothesis, would 
 be both ridiculous and unjust ; unjust to the will, 
 and to the word, of God, who has made and sancti- 
 fied common language to our use, and consequently 
 to the obligation of our Christian liberty ; and ridi- 
 culous, in that on several subjects of discourse the 
 use of any other than the common ways of expres- 
 sion would be altogether vain, nonsensical and ab- 
 surd. I might easily give a thousand instances of 
 the truth of this 5 but it were pity to prevent the 
 many witlings of the present age, who by this 
 would lose their whole field of knowledge, with re- 
 lation to this subject, and would have nothing left 
 
( 93 ) 
 
 whereby to ridicule what they are incapable of un- 
 derstanding. I leave it therefore, to pamphleteers, 
 doggrel rhimers, and comedians, to expose the lan- 
 guage of this treatise, by applying it to improper 
 subjects : for since the only end of this kind of wit 
 is not so much as pretended to be truth, but only 
 laughter and diversion, I am content to be the sub- 
 ject, and also to laugh for company, as having no 
 pretence to the moving of one smile by any thing I 
 have here said. Allowing therefore all due advan- 
 tage to little wits of all sorts and sizes, I answer, 
 
 3. Thirdly, that whenever we are, or pretend to 
 be, serious, I would recommend the language of this 
 discourse to be used only on subjects the most ge- 
 neral, simple, or universal, I do not say, in philoso- 
 phy only in general, or in this or that particular 
 branch of it ; for I profess to understand but very 
 little of either, as words and ideas have been usually 
 linked together. I say therefore only, as before, 
 the most simple, general or universal subjects; sub- 
 jects wherein the question is strictly about truth, 
 particularly such wherein the question supposed re- 
 ceives any alteration from the supposition or denial 
 of an external world. 
 
 Well, you will say, but then it seems it has but 
 little to do with religion, which is a subject best un- 
 derstood or treated of in the common ways of 
 speaking: by this I am led in the 
 
 Second place, to consider the particular usefulness 
 of this position or hypothesis with regard to reli- 
 gion. Accordingly I make answer ; 
 
 First, It has been often my fortune, and may be 
 again, to have this question put to me by such as 
 have not been able to comprehend the reasons by 
 which I justify my point of no external world ; 
 which, by a very natural progress, has given them a 
 mighty zeal against the conclusion. In this case, 
 
their only refuge to avoid an utter silence, has been 
 to urge this question about its usefulness as to re- 
 ligion. The pretence of this is, that religion is 
 their only care, or the end of all their inquiries; so 
 that if it does not immediately appear that this hy- 
 pothesis tends to the promotion of religion, they 
 are fairly excused from believing, or so much as at- 
 tending to it. 
 
 But now to such as these, surely nothing can be 
 easier than to return a sufficient answer. But I 
 think the best, in this case, is to make none at all. 
 For first, it is evident that the end or drift of this 
 question is not to urge any thing against the truth 
 of my conclusion, but only to excuse its authors 
 from so much as inquiring into it. But this cer- 
 tainly is a point I can never be supposed to contend 
 against, whilst I am suffered to live out of bedlam. 
 And therefore since this is all that is demanded by 
 this question, it must needs be very impertinent to 
 go about to answer it any otherwise than by saying, 
 Sir, you have free leave to think of what subjects 
 you please ; especially having chosen the better 
 part already, viz. religion, and nothing else, to em- 
 ploy your meditations on, &e. But, secondly, it 
 happens well enough for the ends of my discourse 
 at present, that my reader is here supposed to have 
 inquired already into the truth of my conclusion, 
 and also to have discovered it to be true. 
 
 And this gives the question concerning its useful- 
 ness as to religion, a very different turn and sense 
 from what it had before. For now though it may 
 be the effect of curiosity only, yet it very probably 
 may be the effect of a serious desire of farther 
 knowledge, and of a true regard for religion, and 
 therefore ought to be so reputed. Whereas the 
 same, as before proceeding, is even designed as a 
 bar to knowledge, and is plainly no other than a 
 
( 95 ) 
 
 religious disguise. But whatever be the true cause 
 or principle of this last, 1 must needs acknowledge 
 its right to an answer. Accordingly I affirm, 
 
 Secondly, that I consider the present treatise, as 
 a matter of no little use, or good consequence, with 
 regard to religion; that I have found the truth of 
 this by a long or very considerable experience ; and 
 in a word, that (be it taken how it will by certain 
 vain pretenders) I will be bold to pretend, even in 
 my own behalf such a real, and even exclusive, re- 
 gard for religion, that I would never have troubled 
 an unwilling world with this discourse, (notwith- 
 standing the infinite use which I conceive it to be of 
 with respect to simple or universal truth,) had it not 
 been for its particular usefulness with respect to 
 religion ; and consequently for the benefit of those 
 few who I expect will find the truth of what I here 
 affirm. 
 
 I am sensible this will pass for very slender au- 
 thority with some, and perhaps too for an objection 
 with others; unless for their satisfaction I produce 
 the points concerning which I affirm this discourse 
 to be of use. But I have proved my point already, 
 viz. all that is in my title page, and I shall prove 
 no more, till I am aware of the success of this, or 
 hear from my reader himself, what farther demands 
 he may have upon me. Nevertheless, that I may 
 avoid the imputation of having passed over but the 
 name of an objection, without an answer, I will go 
 out of the track of my intended method so far, as 
 to charge myself with the debt of one instance of 
 this sort; and that is, the point of the real presence 
 of Christ's body in the eucharist, on which the pa 
 pists have grafted the doctrine of transubstantiation. 
 
 Now nothing, I think, can be more evident, than 
 that both the sound and explication of this import* 
 ant doctrine are founded altogether on the supposi- 
 tion of external matter ; so that if this be removed, 
 
( 96 ) 
 
 there is not any thing left, whereon to build so much 
 as the appearance of a question. 
 
 For if after this it be inquired whether the sub- 
 stance of the bread in this sacrament be not 
 changed into the substance of the body of Christ, 
 the accidents or sensible appearances remaining as 
 before ; or suppose this should be affirmed to be the 
 fact, or at least possible, it may indeed be shewn 
 to be untrue or impossible, on the supposition of an 
 external world, from certain consequential absurd- 
 ities which attend it; but to remove an external 
 world, is to prick it in its punctum s aliens, or quench 
 its very vital flame. For if there is no external 
 matter, the very distinction is lost between the sub- 
 stance and accidents, or sensible species of bodies, 
 and these last will become the sole essence of ma- 
 terial objects. So that if these are supposed to re- 
 main as before, there is no possible room for the 
 supposal of any change, in that the thing supposed 
 to be changed is here shewn to be nothing at all. 
 
 I have chosen to instance in this, rather than any 
 other point of divinity or religion, because this of 
 transubstantiation is one of the most important 
 doctrines of the Roman church ; which church at 
 the same time happens to hold the insufficiency of 
 the scriptures. Now as these two opinions happen 
 to concur in the same persons, it may possibly 
 prove an umbrage to certain weak and tender spi- 
 rits, as if my affirming only without proof, that the 
 present treatise, is of such mighty use, with regard 
 to religion, were an intrenchment on the sufficiency 
 of the gospel revelation, and consequently an ap- 
 proach towards the error of popery. This is the 
 objection hinted at before, viz. the great and 
 mighty 'objection, for the sake of which I have de- 
 parted from my method, and broken my resolution* 
 But it is high time however now to return and pror 
 ceed. 
 
( 9? j 
 
 The third thing which I proposed to speak to, is 
 the proper manner after which I would desire this 
 treatise to be made use of. And here 
 
 Let the first thing be, to read it thoroughly and 
 attentively. It is not so long but it may be read 
 more than once without any very considerable ex- 
 pence of time. However, let it so be read as to be 
 perfectly understood to be either true or false. If 
 false, I would desire my reader to give me notice of 
 the discovery, that I may discharge myself of the guilt 
 of having published a falshood in so confident a man- 
 ner; and also such a falshood as bids open defiance 
 to so considerable a part of whatsoever men have hi- 
 therto pretended to know. This I think is a fair re- 
 quest. But my reader is here supposed to understand 
 it in another light, or to look upon it to be true. 
 
 If so, I must nevertheless desire him to employ 
 all his skill or attention for some time to make it as 
 familiar as possible to his understanding. If he fails 
 in this he will find his assent slide from him he 
 knows not how ; and he will come in a little time 
 to an effectual disbelief of it, whilst he continues to 
 believe it. This is the manner of men, with respect 
 to truths, either very simple, or peculiarly religious; 
 there lying an equal prejudice or opposition of sense 
 against both these kinds of truths. This, by the 
 way, is some sort of argument that there is a nearer 
 affinity between these two kinds of truth than is 
 commonly imagined; but I am content in this 
 place to suppose them very different, And be they 
 as different as they will, yet sure I am, that the sub- 
 ject of this treatise is of the number of those which 
 make the least impression, even after they are as- 
 sented to; or against which the strongest prejudices 
 are found to lie. For nothing can be more evident 
 to the first or natural apprehensions of men, than 
 that even the sensible or visible world is external. 
 
 N 
 
( 93 ) 
 
 And 1 believe I shall find enough of this from my 
 experience with other persons, to make it needless 
 to attest the truth of it upon my own. If so, and 
 if it be true notwithstanding that there is no external 
 world, I must again desire my reader to use his ut- 
 most diligence and attention to render this truth as 
 sensible to himself as possible; which he will find to 
 be done only by a very frequent meditation on, or 
 exercise of himself in it. And here, (if I may for 
 decency sake be allowed to press this matter any 
 farther,) I would advise him, 
 
 First, to exercise himself for a little time in writ- 
 ing on, or rather against, it. Let him try to add 
 to the objections which I have already considered, 
 or respond afresh to the answers which I have given 
 to them; and perhaps his surprise to find the little 
 effect of this experiment, may add some grains to 
 the firmness of his assent. 
 
 After this it would confirm him not a little to 
 make the same experiment in discourse with others, 
 whether learned or unlearned matters not much, if I 
 have rightly observed ; unless it be that the learned 
 in this case, usually make the least pertinent objec- 
 tions. This method will in some measure engage 
 even self love on the side of truth, which will 
 mightily help to overbear the force of common pre- 
 judice against it. 
 
 But lastly, if after all this endeavour he yet find it 
 difficult (as I believe he certainly will) to keep the 
 edge of his attention fixed, so as not to think it still 
 more evident that the visible world is, than that it is 
 not external, let him practise with himself an easy, 
 but a very useful, art, which is to use himself to me- 
 ditate on this subject with either his eye or imagina- 
 tion fixed on a looking-glass. This, he may re- 
 member, was qne of the instances given (Part 1. 
 Chap. L Sect. 1.) to shew, that the seeming exter- 
 neity of a visible object is no argument of its real 
 
( 99 ) 
 
 externeity : and it has since appeared that all visible 
 objects are equally external; or that that which is 
 usually called the visible world, is indeed no more 
 external than what is usually called the reflection 
 or image of it in a looking glass. Nevertheless it 
 is much easier to apprehend or believe this, with 
 respect to objects seen in a glass, than to such as 
 are seen out of a glass; and it is only my reader's 
 ease that I am at this time consulting. 
 
 Now by these and such like means, I suppose, 
 even my Aristotelian reader (who by his studies has 
 been long unqualified to receive or apprehend pure 
 unbodied truths) will become master of this subject, 
 as simple as it is, or understand it with the same, 
 or some degree of the same, ease or feeling, where- 
 with he usually understands ideas that are more 
 complex. And if so, he is prepared for all the ends 
 and uses of it. The chief of which is this, 
 
 Secondly, to carry it about with him, and use it 
 as one would do a key, or mirror, or almost any 
 other kind of mechanical or useful instrument. To 
 carry, I say, not the body of the present treatise, 
 or so much as one argument of it, in his memory, 
 but only the conclusion, viz. no external world y 
 which is just what is in the inscription or title page. 
 
 With this, as with a key, he w 7 ill find an easy so- 
 lution of almost all the general questions which he 
 has been used to account very difficult, or perhaps 
 indissoluble. 
 
 And as a mirror, held, as it were, in his hand be- 
 fore the writings of others, it will discover to him 
 many errors, where before he little expected to find 
 them ; besides that it will open to him a new scene 
 of truths, which have not hitherto been so much as 
 inquired after. 
 
 In a word, let him read and think with this one 
 proposition always present in his mind, and I am 
 persuaded he will need no assistance of mine to make 
 
it appear to him, that it is of the greatest use and 
 consequence in the inquiry after truth. 
 
 And now I have nothing to add, but a word oir 
 two concerning the particular use or advantage, 
 which I myself propose from having written this 
 discourse. And that is, 
 
 First, the probability by this means, of having 
 the truth of it thoroughly examined : which is rarely 
 done to any purpose in discourse, and indeed in any 
 private way ; besides that, I would consult the com- 
 mon benefit as well as my own. 
 
 Secondly,' and lastly, that by this means I have 
 freed myself from many difficulties; in case I should 
 live to appear in public on any subject, which is 
 either a consequence of this, or any way depends 
 on, or interferes with it. I speak this from an ex- 
 perience very often repeated. And this, at last, 
 has reduced me to this necessity, either never to 
 attempt to write on any but the most ordinary and 
 popular subjects, (which is a work I have too good 
 reason to leave to others,) or resolve in the first 
 place to set heartily about this, and establish it once 
 for all ; as I hope I have here done. 
 
 If so, I have no more to do for the time to come, 
 but only to refer to what I have here written and 
 published : which is a liberty I may possibly reap 
 the advantage of in discourse on some other subject: 
 but which I shall be sure to use, and make the most 
 oi'j m case this should be replied to by any partial, 
 unfair, or scoffing adversary. 
 
 THE END. 
 
A 
 
 SPECIMEN 
 
 OF 
 
 True Philosophy / 
 
 IN A 
 
 DISCOURSE ON GENESIS, 
 
 THE FIRST CHAPTER AND THE FIRST VERSE. 
 
 BY ARTH. COLLIER, 
 
 HECTOR OF LANGFORD MAGNA, NEAR SARUM, WILTS. 
 
 Not improper to be bound up with bis 
 
 CLAVIS UNIVERSALIS. 
 
 1 TIM. vi. 20. 
 
 & Timothy, Keep that which is committed to thy Trust, Avoiding 
 profane and vain Babblings, and Oppositions of Science, falsely 
 so called. 
 
 SARUM, 
 
 Printed by CHARLES HOOTON, and Sold by E. Easton, in Silver- 
 street; Mrs. Fletcher, in Oxford; and J. Knapton, in St. Paul's 
 Church-Yard, London- 1?30. 
 
 [Price Sixpence.] 
 
A D VERTISEMENT. 
 
 I CANNOT send this imperfect essay into the 
 world, without acquainting my reader, both why 
 it is so imperfect s and why I send it abroad as 
 it is. 
 
 And first it is, as he will find it; because it 
 is only designed as an introduction to a much 
 larger work> which I reserve as the great em- 
 ployment of my life > and, which probably will not 
 see the light till after my decease, viz. a body of 
 Christian knowledge or theology, consisting of ob* 
 servations, notes, paraphrases, and explications of 
 all the most considerable passages in the zvord of 
 God. And also, because as little as it is, consi- 
 dered as an introduction to the great mystery of 
 godliness ; yet considered as a subject distinct by 
 itself, it is no less than a whole system or compen- 
 dium of general knowledge or philosophy : and I 
 suppose, I need not tell my reader, the particular 
 reason^ why he is not to expect from my manage- 
 menty any more than an imperfect essay, towards 
 so great a work. 
 
 But iohy> you zvtll say, should I send it abroad 
 before the body ivliich it belongs to ? Why y I an- 
 swer, because of every thing before mentioned. 
 
CIV] ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 As first, because I have done my best ; and if 
 I stay ever so long, I do not think I can mend it. 
 
 Secondly, because it is an introduction to a 
 work, which I take to be of the highest importance 
 to be well considered z and therefore I am in- 
 clined to hope, that this short discourse, by resting 
 a while, and even dying, in the readers mind, 
 may more effectually prepare the way for the re* 
 ception of what is designed to follow^ than if it 
 only stood as a little part of the whole. 
 
 And lastly, 'because it is indeed a subject by it- 
 self > as I hinted before; and therefore, bating my 
 imperfect management of it> may as properly ap- 
 pear, as a noun-substantive by itself 9 as any other 
 system of reason or philosophy. 
 
 If these are not reasons enough to content my 
 reader 9 he may further be pleased to know, that 
 I have a great many more s though these are all 
 that I shall mention, before I know for certain, 
 how he and I shall agree, with regard to the 
 truth of this little specimen. 
 
 GENESIS 
 
GENESIS, Chap. i. Ver. 1 
 
 *O 0$ rov xpavov HIXI 
 
 In the beginning God created the Heaven and the 
 
 Earth. 
 
 i 
 
 .N the beginning What is this beginning? 
 Is it only a word of a common meaning ; and as if 
 it had been said, that when God began to make or 
 create the world, He began to create the world ? or 
 that he began before he made an end of his work? 
 This seems to be but poor and bald. But does it 
 not rather signify the very contrary to this ? Namely, 
 that God did not begin before he made an end ; but 
 rather that he ended, in the act or instant of his 
 beginning? This is something nobler than the for- 
 mer, and may, for aught I know, be the very truth 
 of the fact, with regard to that work of God which 
 is properly called creation, or production from no- 
 thing ; at least it may be true in a certain tolerable 
 sense, but which I need not here be careful to distin- 
 guish. But, whatever be the truth of this proposi- 
 tion, that God made all things in an instant, it does 
 not seem to be the truth delivered to us in the text, 
 nor indeed to be any meaning which the words will 
 naturally bear. Nevertheless, if another person has 
 any fondness for this sense of the words, I am con- 
 tent to admit it as a remote, and distant, and conse- 
 quential meaning of them, provided he otherwise 
 makes it good, or proves it to be true, from plain 
 reason or scripture. 
 
 p 
 
( 106 ) 
 
 But some there are, perhaps, who understand no 
 more by this phrase, in the beginning^ than a word 
 of course, a common imprimis, at the beginning of 
 a narration. Well ; let those who can sit down with 
 this, be contented to know no more. For my part, 
 I have otherwise used myself to read and understand 
 the word of God. And here, not to hold my reader 
 in suspense, I will tell him by what rule I intend to 
 proceed in the following pages. 
 
 Being told by St. Peter*, that the words of scrip- 
 ture are not of any single or private, or peculiar in- 
 terpretation, I have formed to myself this general 
 rule or method of understanding them; namely, to 
 take as much into the compass of every passage 
 therein contained, as the words will fairly bear, or is 
 consistent with, and not contradictory to other 
 parts of the same. 
 
 And now methinks, these plain and simple words 
 of Moses, are like the flaming sword, which turneth 
 every way; or like some wonderful mirror, which in 
 every new point of view, exhibits a new world : that 
 is, without a metaphor, they seem to contain a sum- 
 mary of the whole object of science, both divine and 
 human, theological and philosophical. 
 
 In the first of these respects, it may be called the 
 summary of the Bible. And here I make no doubt, 
 but this is that very passage, which is pointed at or 
 referred to, by the Psalmist f, and after him by the 
 apostle to the Hebrews J, under the character of 
 Ktyatis <&/*; which, though translated the volume, is 
 indeed properly the capitulary, sum or substance of 
 the volume which we call the Bible. And, where 
 can we so probably seek or expect to find such a 
 summary of the whole, as in the first or initial words 
 of it? It being the usual method of the best writers 
 to begin their work with some general or universal 
 proposition, which contains or implies the whole of 
 
 * 2 Pet. i. 20. t Psal. xl. 7. I Hcb. x. 7. 
 
( 107 ) 
 
 what follows, and mav be called the text or key-note 
 to the whole composition. 
 
 Now it is said in the afore-cited text of the psal- 
 mist, as applied by the apostle, that this Kfp*k Biftu* 
 is written of the Son of God. And we Christians 
 especially cannot well he ignorant, that his media- 
 torial office between God and his rational creatures, 
 is the great subject or substance of the book of God> 
 
 Here then, let us look attentively, and we need 
 pot doubt but we shall find Him spoken of. The 
 words, once more, are these ; EV Afxy mdwvt O' <3W 
 TOV N fyavov' KM rw yw. In Latin thus, In firincipio creavit 
 Deus. And lastly in English (unless we will be con- 
 tent with a mere imprimis} thus, " God made the 
 heaven and the earth in something" for which we 
 want a name; that is, in, and by, and through some 
 other being, or person, different both from God the 
 maker, and the things spoken of to have been made. 
 And what, or who, can this third, or middle being, 
 or person be, but the being we are in quest of, viz. 
 the only begotten Son of God? In and by whom, we 
 are so frequently told in scripture, that God the Fa- 
 ther created ail things; and who is so often distin- 
 guished by the word 'A?%>j, and even 'A?xh 1% 'JOnW* 
 TS*, as by his proper name and character ? See 
 particularly, Deut. xxxiii. 27- LXXf. Here then 
 we have both the Father and the Son ; which by the 
 Son himself is made the summary of the whole bible, 
 saying, this is eternal life, to know thee the only true 
 God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent J. The 
 Father, who is the first or principal ; the Son, as the 
 secondary or immediate cause, or creator of all 
 things. 
 
 But now, whereas the language of scripture ge- 
 nerally runs thus, that God, even the Father, created 
 all things by or through his Son ; we are told by 
 Moses, in the words we are now upon, that God 
 
 * Col. i. 16, 18. | Rev. iii. 14. J John xvii. 3. 
 
( 108 ) 
 
 made all things in his Son ; which particle in, though 
 it very frequently stands for by or through, yet we 
 all know, has a peculiar and primary signification of 
 its own. And this therefore I take to be the pri- 
 mary sense of these words of Moses ; as if he had 
 said in words at length, that God did not only 
 make or create all things by or through his Son, as 
 being his immediate agent, but also that they were 
 made, that is, that they now exist in him, as in their 
 more immediate support or substance. For, as we 
 are told by the Psalmist, that in wisdom he made 
 them all, which wisdom of God is generally under- 
 stood to be the Son of God, who is also frequently 
 elsewhere called by this, as by his proper name; so, 
 we are told by St. Paul, that he is before all things, 
 and in him all things consist *, or have their being. 
 And, therefore, he being the immediate maker or 
 creator of all things, we may justly apply to him the 
 words spoken by St. Paul, concerning God indefi- 
 nitely, viz. that in him we live, and move, and have 
 our being -f. And the reason is the same for both. 
 For if we exist in God, because we are made by him, 
 we must believe that we exist more immediately in 
 the Son, being told, as in the text, that God made 
 us and all things, by and in his son. 
 
 Here then we find these words of Moses, to be 
 not only an abstract of the Bible, or of what is called 
 theological knowledge, but is also a summary of pure 
 reason, or philosophy. For he that is the A?xh ris 
 Klfaas, the Arche of the whole creation, must needs, 
 in some proper sense, be the subject or object 
 of all that is called science. For, as from God's 
 creating all things 'Ev 'A^jT, or in his Son, we have 
 seen it necessary to infer, that all things exist in 
 him ; so here, it is evident at first view, that, if all 
 things exist in him, then the true way of contem- 
 
 *Col. i. 16, 17. Also Heb. i. 3. "That he upholdeth all things." 
 t Acts xvii. 28. 
 
( 109 ) 
 
 plating or considering the being of all things, must 
 be to consider them as existing in the Son. 
 
 But every thing in its own order. For though 
 the heaven and the earth, and all things therein con- 
 tained, do actually exist in him ; yet they are not 
 all to be considered, as every one existing immedi- 
 ately in him ; or, as we may say, all at the same dis- 
 tance from him ; but, at several distances or projec- 
 tions from him, according, or in proportion, to their 
 several kinds, essential differences, or perfections. 
 For, though we willingly receive it as the principal 
 meaning of the words, that he made all things in his 
 Son; yet, as we may otherwise learn, both from rea- 
 son and sense, that some things exist in others, we 
 see no reason why we may not take the benefit of 
 the grammatical form of speaking, observable in the 
 words themselves ; where it is not said, Ev rf A'^jT, 
 or in the arche, but simply 'Ev AfxjT without the par- 
 ticle rf t as if it had been translated, God made hea- 
 ven and earth in an arche. And so, the whole sense 
 of it may be thus expressed. God made the world 
 in general in the arche his Son; and every thing in 
 particular ', each in its own proper, or immediate arche. 
 
 So that, as on one hand, we may observe (as in 
 analogy to the apostle's words*,) that, though there 
 are many persons and things, both in heaven and 
 earth, which are called archai or substances ; yet 
 they all terminate and exist in one, viz. the Son of 
 God, who is the A'?%i -rife *JiVaf , or substance of the 
 whole creation; so, on the other hand, it may be 
 said with truth, but in a secondary sense, that though 
 all things in general exist in one common substance; 
 yet, there are many substances, both in heaven and 
 earth, which, with respect one to the other, may not 
 improperly be called by this sacred name. 
 
 Here then we have but one, and yet many sub- 
 stances, which, how mystically soever it may soun4 
 * 1 Cor. viii. 5. 
 
( HO ) 
 
 to those, who have never considered the text in this 
 light, or thought at all in this way; yet, that there 
 is such a way of speaking, or, that it is not really a 
 contradiction, I should think I might appeal to the 
 common notions of all, especially of all those who 
 have ever conversed in what is called philosophy. 
 For, what is more familiarly known amongst men, 
 than the doctrine and distinction of substance and 
 accident ? Or, what is more obvious to common ob- 
 servation, than that what is an accident to one sub- 
 stance, may be a substance to another accident ? 
 And, what s6 proper language in this case, as to say, 
 that, how far so ever this projection of substances 
 may be carried, yet still there is but one substance, 
 viz. the first? 
 
 For instance. Suppose a piece of matter, called 
 canvas, with the picture of a man upon it. What is 
 this man but an accident of this colour? And, what 
 is this colour, but an accident of this canvas? The 
 colour then is the substance of the accident-man, 
 and the canvas is the substance of the accident- 
 colour; and where now is the mystery of saying in 
 this case, that there is but one substance, viz. the 
 canvas. 
 
 Now this, I say, is a very near resemblance of the 
 relation of inexistence, which all creatures, both in 
 heaven and earth, bear in their several orders, to 
 one another, and all to the first Being or substance, 
 which in the text is called, or supposed to be, the 
 Son of God. 
 
 But this is an instance of but one sort of acci- 
 dents, which may be called inherent or fixed. 
 There are others that are moveable, and, for want 
 of a better name, may be called adhering accidents; 
 whose manner of existence, seems to me to be some- 
 thing more expressive of the point which I would 
 here explain. Now under this distinction I shall 
 mention two several instances; which, though in- 
 
( 111 ) 
 
 deed very different from each other, in some res- 
 pects; yet agree well enough in the genus I have 
 placed them under, namely of adherent or move- 
 able-accidents. 
 
 The lirst of these shall be the object or image, 
 which is seen upon a piece of paper, ip a camera 
 obscura, which is too well known in the learned 
 world to need a more particular description. 
 
 On this paper, we are supposed to see an exact 
 similitude of several objects, which are called ex- 
 ternal ; that is, of every object without the camera, 
 which lies in a right line, and at certain distances 
 from the glass, through which the light is admitted. 
 In a word, we see a green field or meadow, in which 
 there grazeth a cow; on the back of which cow 
 (as is usual at a certain season of the year) there 
 stands or walks, A bird called a jack-daw. 
 
 Now here again, are several substances, and yet 
 but one substance; viz. the paper: with regard to 
 which the others are no more than accidents, as all 
 existing in or on, the said paper. 
 
 But yet, every one in its own order. First the 
 paper ; secondly the green field ; thirdly the cow ; 
 fourthly the bird : that is, the bird on the cow, the 
 cow on the field, and the field (together with the 
 whole scene) on the paper. 
 
 But the truth of the matter is ; there is more in 
 this, as indeed in every instance of this kind, than 
 what properly belongs to the distinction I am here 
 upon. That is, we have here an instance of botb 
 kinds of accidents in one view, as well the fixed 
 as the moveable. And therefore, I would beg leave 
 to reconsider them both together. 
 
 In this view then, instead of three, we have more 
 than double that number of accidents to take no- 
 tice of; which all exist in, (that is, in or on) the 
 one common substance, viz. the paper; but yet 
 not all immediately, but at several distances, or pro- 
 
jections, one in another; till we come to the last, 
 which, in this account, must pass for a pure or 
 simple accident. As first, the colour or whiteness 
 of the paper ; secondly, the field ; thirdly, the 
 colour of the field; fourthly, the cow; fifthly, the 
 colour of ^he cow ; sixthly, the bird ; seventhly, 
 the colour of the bird. 
 
 And here likewise we have just the same number 
 of substances; only with this difference, that the 
 paper, as being the common substance of all the 
 others, has a right to be called the one substance of 
 the whole ; or, as 1 may say, to boast itself against 
 the others, calling them by the name of accidents. 
 For, as the whiteness is an accident of inhesion of 
 the paper, it is the proper or immediate substance 
 of the field, &c. till we come to the last, viz. the 
 colour of the bird, which being necessarily an ac- 
 cident, must as necessarily be considered as a pure 
 or simple accident ; otherwise it would be a con- 
 tradiction in terms to call it the last in order. 
 
 My other instance of a like kind with the former, 
 is that of an object appearing in a looking-glass : 
 wherein we see a whole visible world, with all its 
 motions, distances, proportions, &c. so exactly like 
 the world which we usually call external, that some 
 ingenious persons have contended it to be the same. 
 But, as such as these are too ingenious and subtle 
 for me to take hold of, I must desire their excuse 
 if I turn from them to those, who are willing to 
 grant what these deny; namely, that one and one 
 make two, and not one; that things different are 
 not the same; that east is not west, nor the right 
 hand the left, &c. From all, or either of which 
 principles it follows, that the objects seen, as in the 
 glass, are not the same with those which are called 
 external ; for which also I refer my reader, to a 
 little book of mine, intitled Clavis Universalis, page 
 17* And now my instance is this, 
 
In the glass I behold an expanded, or an out- 
 stretched space. In this space, I see a bright cir- 
 cular spot or figure, which we call the image of the 
 moon, or, if I may have leave to coin a word, an 
 imagic or iconic moon. Now here I perceive four 
 several things, the glass; the expansum or space; 
 the body or matter of what we call the moon; and 
 lastly, the colour of the said moon : and these, con- 
 sidered logically, that is, 'Ev A^jJ, will stand in this 
 order; the colour as existing in the moon, the 
 moon in the expansum, and the expansum in the 
 glass. 
 
 In this likewise, may be seen the paper before- 
 mentioned, in the camera obscura; which paper 
 must now be no longer considered as the first, or 
 one common substance of the rest, but only as one 
 intermediate link of the chain ; that is, as existing 
 in the space or expansion; which expansion exists 
 immediately in the glass. In this view then, the 
 glass is now become the staple on which the whole 
 chain depends ; or, the one common substance of 
 nine several accidents, eight of which are as pro- 
 perly substances to other accidents in their order, 
 as the first is to them all. 
 
 I am very sensible, that to much the greater part 
 of my readers, I shall here seem to talk the most 
 egregious nonsense that ever blotted a poor inno- 
 cent piece of paper. But, as I cannot be more 
 sure than I am, that they will not be able to prove 
 it ; so, after using my whole endeavour to be as 
 plain in words as I can (for which I dare appeal 
 even to themselves) I can add no more to them, 
 than that I am extremely sorry, that I can no 
 otherwise help their want of understanding. 
 
 Now, the drift of all this is to prepare my in- 
 telligent reader, not to lift his foot too high in tak- 
 ing the two following steps, (for this, we all know, 
 
 Q 
 
is as sure a means of falling, as not lifting it high" 
 enough;) for now, there are but two degrees more, 
 before we come to the Af%J? Afauv, the beginning of 
 beginnings, the common center or substance of the 
 universe. But in truth, how intelligent soever I 
 would willingly suppose my reader in this place ; 
 yet I cannot proceed with a quiet mind, till I have 
 told him, that unless he has perused, and seen the 
 evidence of the little book before-mentioned (which, 
 except a single passage or two in Dr. Berkeley's 
 three dialogues, printed in the same year with the 
 other, is the only book on that subject, which I 
 ever heard of in the world,) it will be as much in 
 vain for him to go with me any farther in this dis- 
 course, as if he was one of those, whom I took my 
 leave of in the former paragraph. For I am here 
 to proceed on the supposition of the truth of what 
 I have there both demonstrated and explained. 
 He therefore that hath ears to hear, let him hear, 
 as folio weth. 
 
 In my first instance of the camera obscura, I 
 considered the paper as the common or first sub- 
 stance of all things contained in, depicted on, or 
 existing in it. But in the last instance of the 
 looking glass, the paper itself (i. e. that visible ob- 
 ject in the glass called paper) is now become an 
 "accident, or second substance, that is, a secondary 
 or dependent substance, namely, on the glass, in 
 which it is seen ; just after the same mariner, as the 
 green field is seen to exist in the paper, or the 
 iconic moon in the glass. Indeed I before consi- 
 dered both the paper and the moon as existing pri- 
 marily, or immediately in the space or expansion, 
 which I did in order to extend the chain or pro- 
 jection to its utmost length; but here there is no 
 need of being so very particular. 
 
 Let the glass then stand as the substance of the 
 iconic moon, and consequently of the whole visible 
 
inn 7 
 
 iconic world, container] or existing in it. That 
 vvliich I would advance is this ; 
 
 That, as the visible iconic world exists in the 
 glass ; the glass itself exists in the mind or soul of 
 him that perceives it. And therefore, as the visible 
 object, which we call the glass, is of the same na- 
 ture, or world, or order, with all the bodies of the 
 universe, we must affirm the same of all indiffer- 
 ently; which is the same as to say, that the whole 
 visible world exists in mind, or in the soul of him 
 that perceives it. 
 
 Now, this is the very point which, I think, I have 
 demonstrated in the little book before referred to ; 
 where besides, I have proved at large, by nine se- 
 veral arguments, that an external world, or matter 
 not dependent, for its existence, on mind, is an im- 
 possibility and contradiction. 
 
 Well then; in the text we are told, that God 
 made heaven and earth, or the whole material world 
 'Ev 'Afxf. This may be called the major, or uni- 
 versal proposition, of the argument I am upon: 
 and for as much as it is the word of God, it may 
 well pass, with us Christians, for an unquestionable 
 axiom. Now, to this I subjoin the proposition, by 
 me demonstrated, as the minor; namely, that the 
 visible or material world exists in mind, i. e. im- 
 mediately in the mind of him that seeth or per- 
 ceiveth it ; wherefore I conclude the meaning of the 
 text to be the same, as if Moses had said, In mente 
 creavit DEUS> &c. i. e. that mind, soul, or spirit, 
 is the Af%>j, in which God created the heaven and 
 the earth. 
 
 But here, we must again remind ourselves, of the 
 distinction, of mediate and immediate, jirst and 
 second substance, or the like, which I have all along 
 proceeded on. For, it is supposed here, in the first 
 place, that the 'Afx* here spoken of in the text, is 
 primarily or principally to be understood, of the 
 
Son of God ; who, though He is but the par/fa, or 
 middle being between God (i. e. pure God) and 
 man, yet is said to uphold all things*, and is here 
 given us as the Afxh of the whole creation. 
 
 When therefore I here affirm, on the foundation 
 of what I have elsewhere proved, that the visible or 
 material world, which I (for instance) see, exists in 
 me, or in my particular mind ; I mean only to say, 
 that my mind is the immediate 'Agxh or substance, 
 of the object perceived; or that the visible world, 
 which I see, exists immediately in my particular 
 mind or soul. And, therefore, whereas it is said in 
 the text, that the heaven and the earth, or the said 
 visible world exists in the Son of God, the meaning 
 can be no other than this, that the said visible world 
 exists mediately or ultimately, in the same divine 
 person; which is the same again, as if it had been 
 said, that, as the visible world exists immediately in 
 any human or created mind ; so the said mind itself 
 exists immediately in the Son of God. For, this is 
 now the only possible meaning, which can remain 
 of this saying, that God created the world in his 
 Son f . And to this agree the words of the apostle, 
 who assures us, that there is one, or but one ftwrnjf, 
 or intermediate being, between God and man, who 
 is the man Christ Jesus. 
 
 Here then, we have a true picture given us of all 
 creaturely existence; that, it is not existence 
 simple, but only inexistence. So that, if Moses 
 had only said, that God created the heaven and the 
 earth, or meant no more by 'Ev 9 Ax$, than we com- 
 monly mean by imprimis, he had spoken impro- 
 perly, not to say untruly. For, a creature, as such, 
 is not capable of being made, that is, simply of ex- 
 isting, but only of inexisting. 
 
 Now, this we all know, is the formalis ratio, or 
 most essential difference of what is called an acci- 
 
 * Heb. i. 3. f 1 Tim. ii. 5. 
 
dent. According to the vulgar maxim in the 
 schools, Accidentis esse est inesse ; and again, Quod 
 adest 6f abest sine subjecti interitu, and the like. 
 And accordingly we find substance, not only de- 
 fined positively, to be ens per se subsistens, but des- 
 cribed or explained by this negative distinction^ 
 that it does not exist in subjecto, or after the man- 
 ner of an accident, which always necessarily does so. 
 Not that I have any design to introduce a new 
 way of speaking, or to use myself to call a creature 
 by the name of an accident, for it is not words but 
 things I am concerned for ; but only to express my 
 meaning, or rather that of the word of God, by a 
 term or idea commonly understood. For, however 
 it may be strictly true, and, as I think, I have shewn 
 it to be the meaning of the text, that all creatures 
 exist in that precarious and dependent manner, 
 which is peculiar to an accident; yet, as they do 
 not all exist immediately in the same common sub- 
 stance, viz. the Son of God, but at several dis- 
 tances or projections from Him, as before explained; 
 it may be said with good propriety, (as also I have 
 before contended) that there is not only one, but 
 many subtances in heaven and earth, even as many 
 as there are beings, in which other beings exist, 
 Nevertheless, (not to say, for this reason also) it 
 may be said with the same, and indeed a greater 
 degree of propriety, that substance is but one, or 
 that there is but one substance, viz. God, or the 
 Son of God; (for it does not belong to my subject, 
 in this place, to make any mention of the difference 
 between these :) for, though one of the creatures of 
 God may relatively be considered as the substance 
 of another; yet this, and all together, are no better 
 than accidents, with regard to the Son of God. 
 And, this relation of inexistence, either mediately 
 or immediately, in the said divine person, (however 
 oddly it may sound) is yet all that can be called the 
 
absolute substance or essence of a creature. For, 
 accidentis totum esse est inesse. 
 
 In like manner, as we learn from the text, how 
 we ought to define or distinguish a creature, consi- 
 dered generally as such ; so, by the same doctrine 
 of inexistence, we have a general and universal 
 canon given us, whereby to define any one particu- 
 lar species of creatures. Which canon is this: to 
 define them only by their differences, without any 
 regard to what we commonly call the substance of 
 either. For now, we find it to be the truth, that 
 there is indeed but one substance, which, being 
 common to all, cannot properly enter into the de- 
 finition of any. 
 
 As for instance. Suppose it to be inquired, after 
 what manner we should define, or declare the es- 
 sence of matter, or, what is called in physics, cor- 
 pus natnrale > in which I comprehend (whatever 
 others may dream) the whole visible world, even 
 all that is meant by heaven and earth, in the text, 
 except the souls of men and angels. 
 
 In the first place, I inquire into the meaning of 
 my own intention, which I find to be only this, 
 namely, to tell the difference between mind and 
 matter. And this indeed is all, that has ever been 
 pretended 'formally to be meant by a definition, 
 however philosophers have perplexed themselves 
 and others, in the actn exercito of it. 
 
 But now, secondly, we here find the block which 
 others have stumbled at, and so may easily avoid it, 
 which is this; that, not content to shew the differ- 
 ence between matter and mind, by what they find 
 in either, they fancy they have left their definitions 
 imperfect, because they have not distinguished the 
 substances of both. And so they gravely tell us, 
 in their ignorance, that it is not impossible, or, that 
 it cannot be known to the contrary, but that the 
 substance of matter, may be also capable of thought, 
 
( 119 ) 
 
 and the substance of thought may be I know not 
 what, material or extended. 
 
 But now we plainly see all this to be both false 
 and absurd ; and both in two respects. 
 
 First, false, as contradictory to the truth of the 
 text, wherein we are told, that there is but one sub- 
 stance, both of mind and matter, which is God, or 
 the Son of God. 
 
 Secondly, false, as contrary to what I have else- 
 where demonstrated, namely, that the immediate 
 substance of matter is mind ; which, as on one hand 
 it forbids us to have any thing to do with substance, 
 in the definition of matter, which would be to in- 
 clude mind in the very purpose of excluding it; so, 
 on the other hand, it shews it to be no less a con- 
 tradiction, to affirm or suppose the mind itself to be 
 material, for then it would not be mind, but would 
 exist in mind, as all matter necessarily does. 
 
 But these I here reckon rather as simple false- 
 hoods than contradictions. For, they are properly 
 contradictions only to those, who are already per- 
 suaded of the truth of my principle, or if you will, 
 conclusion, elsewhere demonstrated ; who are, either 
 too few to be reckoned upon, or rather, I believe, 
 too consistent with themselves, to be capable of 
 such -apparent contradictions. But when I called 
 them, as before, absurdities, I meant it chiefly to 
 those, with whom I am supposed to argue, whom I 
 chuse, for certain reasons, no otherwise to distin- 
 guish, than only by their principles; which here 
 again I say, are not only false, but in their own 
 account absurd, or doubly a contradiction. 
 
 First, to their own prime and professed intention, 
 in the business of a definition; which is not, as they 
 confessedly make it, to confound things with, but to 
 distinguish them from one another. And, 
 Secondly, to their profession likewise, that they 
 know nothing at all of the substance of matter, 
 
( 120 ) 
 
 which therefore is a demonstration to them, that it 
 can have nothing to do in the difference or definition 
 of it. For this would be to explain a notum by an 
 ignotum ; not to add, what in the conceitedness of 
 their ignorance, they are pleased to add themselves, 
 viz. that it cannot be known to the contrary, but 
 that the substance of matter may be also capable of 
 thought, which rightly (as we see) explained, is the 
 very truth of the matter, and yet directly opposite 
 to what they intend by it. 
 
 Here then we may justly say to such philosophers 
 as these, what St. Paul said to the Athenians; Whom 
 there/ore ye ignorantly worship, Him declare I unto 
 you*. For, as those had many Gods, and yet were 
 *A00( in the world, bearing testimony to this them- 
 selves, by their altar dedicated to the unknown God ,- 
 so these having many substances in their words and 
 writings, are yet professedly ignorant of any dif- 
 ference between them ; which, joined to their own 
 definition of the word, is an argument as clear as 
 light, that there can be but one substance. But 
 now this is the very reason why it is not seen ; for 
 as the minds of men are generally disposed, they 
 have no other notion of seeing besides that of dis- 
 tinguishing, and are even ready to profess that light 
 itself is not to be seen but by the help of darkness. 
 
 But my reader, perhaps, is, by this time, almost 
 impatient to hear what it is I would put as the de- 
 finition of matter, after using so many words to 
 shew him what does not belong to it. 
 
 But to this I answer, I have no new definition, 
 either of matter or mind, to offer to the world ; but 
 only to remove the darkness which hath hindered 
 the generality of philosophers from resting on their 
 own evident perceptions : which is done by shew- 
 ing them that the substance of every thing is some- 
 thing different from the thing itself, and quite of 
 * Acts xvii. 23. 
 
( 121 ) 
 
 another species. And this we have seen to be the 
 primary and original meaning of the text; so that 
 now we have nothing to hinder us from seeing mat- 
 ter as it is. For, as we are first of all agreed, that 
 the natures of things are no other than their differ* 
 ences; and in the next place, that the difference here 
 sought for, is particularly and only that, which is 
 between matter and mind; what can possibly re- 
 main for the definition of the thing in question, but 
 that particular difference or property which is most 
 inward and essential to it, which is extension, or, as 
 expressed in the schools, Habere paries extra paries* 
 from whence all the other properties or differences 
 of it arise ? For to this also may be applied the rule 
 given us in the text, that every thing ought to be 
 considered as in -an arctie. 
 
 In a word ; we have seen that the world or species 
 called body or matter exists in the world or species 
 called mind or spirit ; and that this last exists in a 
 third, as essentially different from the last, as that is 
 from the first; notwithstanding that he has condes- 
 cended to be called our brother. And therefore, as 
 by leaving out the substance of matter, we cannot 
 fail of defining it as we ought, by fixing only on the 
 principal or most essential difference of it ; so, by 
 the same rule, we may and ought to define mind it- 
 self. But I shall not here descend to the particular 
 of this, but leave it to my intelligent reader's consi- 
 deration. For, however he may find himself dis- 
 tressed for words, in which to express his intended 
 definition of a created mind, or soul, or spirit; yet, 
 provided, on one hand, he takes care to exclude the 
 idol of his imagination, which he is apt to call the 
 substance of it, and on the other, to distinguish it 
 sufficiently from matter; he may assure himself he 
 knows as much of the general nature of the being 
 
( 122 ) 
 
 he is in quest of", as can possibly be known in his 
 present mortal condition. 
 
 Now from hence arises another canon or rule 
 whereby to measure the respective excellencies of 
 created things. I mean their natural or essential 
 excellencies; not taking into consideration, either 
 the motions of bodies, or the inclinations of spirits ; 
 neither of which belongs to my present subject. 
 Which canon is plainly this. That 
 
 The nearer any being or substance stands related, 
 by inexistence, to the first substance of all, the A^x* 
 oi the whole creation, so much the more perfect or 
 excellent it is. 
 
 Thus we find that mind is more excellent than 
 the whole visible world, which may not improperly 
 be called original matter; and that this, in propor- 
 tion, is more excellent than iconic matter, or the 
 world which we behold as in a looking-glass, or 
 that other before mentioned, which is spread on a 
 piece of paper, in a camera obscura. And the 
 reason of this is plain, because the last of these ex- 
 ists in the second, and the second in the first. 
 
 And here comes in a very apposite distinction 
 made use of in the schools, of Jormaliter, and emt- 
 nenter; which, applied to the two ideas of mind 
 and matter (to drop the mention of the looking- 
 glass, &c.) will be found to run thus: that, as mat- 
 ter exists in mind, or is contained in it, it may be 
 properly said of mind, that, besides its own formal 
 perfections, considered as a thinking being, it is also 
 eminently that, which is here supposed to be com- 
 pared with it, namely, body or extension; and 
 therefore must needs be the more perfect of the 
 two, by the same rule of computation, by which 
 the number two or more, or many several perfecti- 
 ons, are more excellent than one. 
 
 And thus, by considering each thing in its own 
 
( 123 ) 
 
 proper Arche or order, and all in general, in the 
 one great 'Afw of all, who is the Logos and Son of 
 God, we find the truth and propriety of the saying 
 of the wise man, that God made all things in num- 
 ber, weight, and measure** Which, though capable 
 of many particular applications ; yet, in the general 
 subject we are now upon, must, I think, he under- 
 stood thus, viz. that mind is more excellent than 
 matter, in these three respects. 
 
 1. As having more excellencies or constituent 
 parts in number. 
 
 2. As standing nearer the center of all excellen- 
 cies and perfections, which answers to what we com- 
 monly call weight in bodies. And, 
 
 3. As containing matter itself as a kind of part 
 of its own being; which supposes jt, in some sense 
 or other, (however our words may fail us) to be of 
 greater extent or measure than the whole material 
 universe. 
 
 I observe all this, not only for the dignity and im- 
 portance of the truth itself, but as in opposition to 
 two ridiculous and childish errors, which are so fre- 
 quently in the mouths of those, who pass for the 
 wise men and philosophers of the world : who, first, 
 generally stile man, or his whole person, by the name 
 of microcosm, or little world; and yet secondly, 
 being compelled by evidence to acknowledge the 
 soul to be more excellent than body, have no better 
 measure to account for it by^ than by saying, that 
 immaterial beings are more simple than things ma- 
 terial ; which is not only false or contradictory, but 
 the very contrary, to the truth. 
 
 And yet this is the strong foundation, on which 
 we are taught to build the great and important point 
 of the immortality of the soul. For, as mortality is 
 corruption, so incorruption is immortality. And so 
 the business is done, it being evident as noon-day 
 
 * Wisdom xl. 20. 
 
( 124 ) 
 
 that an immaterial, or simple being, is not capable 
 of corruption, and therefore must be immortal: and 
 this is called the natural immortality of the soul; an 
 immortality which power itself cannot take from it. 
 Indeed it would be well for the greatest part of 
 the world, if sin and error (especially such gross 
 abuses of our faculties as these) were no corruptions 
 of the soul of man; but, even this would but little 
 help them to the end they drive at, as philosophers ; 
 but rather totally overthrow it. For as the soul ap- 
 pears to be the most compounded being in the world, 
 it must certainly in their account appear to be the 
 most imperfect; and if this does not prove it to be 
 the most naturally mortal and corruptible of any 
 creature in the world, it must be only for this reason, 
 because it proves it to be nothing at all, or a mani- 
 fest contradiction. 
 
 And truly no wonder, for the whole system of this 
 kind of reasoning, is founded on a real contradiction 
 in terms. For there is no accounting for such ab- 
 surdities as these, but by supposing, that at the same 
 time that they call the soul an immaterial being, 
 they really consider it as material or extended. 
 And, for the truth of this, I suppose 1 need not con- 
 fine my appeal o.nhy to those, whom I have heard de- 
 clare as much in express terms, but may extend it 
 to the generality of philosophers, in all the ages of 
 the world. And therefore, no great wonder, if such 
 parents, I mean principles, as these beget children 
 after their own likeness. But to return. I suppose, 
 by this time, my intelligent reader begins to per- 
 ceive, that I meant something more than empty 
 panegynck upon the text, when I called it, in the 
 begim ing, a compendium of science, and a summarv 
 of pure reason or philosophy: and will find, at the 
 same time, that the apostle meant something else, 
 besides words of compliment, upon the Son of God, 
 when he told us, that In Him are kid ail the trca- 
 
( 125 ) 
 
 sures of wisdom and knowledge*. And therefore, 
 lastly, with what exact propriety, he proceeds from 
 hence to caution us against the errors and seducers 
 of the world, saying; And this I say, lest any man 
 should beguile yon with enticing words; and again, a 
 little after, Beware lest any man spoil, or make a prey 
 of you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the 
 tr adit on of men, after the elements of the world, and 
 not after Christ. For in him dzvelleth all thejulness 
 of the Godhead bodily. 
 
 Here then we have another canon or criterion, 
 whereby to distinguish the true philosophy from the 
 false. For, though the apostle here calls philosophy 
 in the lump, by the name of vain deceit ; yet we find 
 he proceeds immediately in the next words, to add 
 the reason of his censure; which reason, if we con- 
 sider it, is as certain a rule whereby to find the true, 
 as to discover and condemn the false philosophy. 
 And the rule is plainly th's, 
 
 That we may reckon that to be the false, which is 
 after the elements of this world, and not after Christ; 
 and therefore, that to be the true, which is according 
 to Christ; who is the 'A^j? ris xJ/Wu; T 0sS, and in 
 whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and know- 
 ledge. 
 
 How far this character of the true, is the very dif- 
 ference and distinction of that science or philosophy, 
 which I have been hitherto deducing, I suppose I 
 need not again observe to those, to whom I prin- 
 cipally desire to write. And as for the rest, how- 
 ever dignified and distinguished, I have only this to 
 propose to them ; that they would not proceed to 
 condemn what they do not so much as pretend to 
 understand Which habit, though it seems to be 
 but a low degree of virtue, is yet, as I have found 
 by constant experience, so certain a means of light 
 and understanding, that, I can hardly suppose it has 
 * Col. ii. 3. 
 
( 126 ) 
 
 ever failed of leading those that are possessed of it, 
 into all the truths they have ever sought for. *Eav 
 w Ki$ivfftk t &E t& vuvvle. Unless you believe [ t first~\ you 
 cannot, possibly understand*. And this habit of sus- 
 pending, or not proceeding to judge before we un- 
 der*stand, if it is not the whole, is yet, I think, the 
 most considerable part or ingredient, of this neces- 
 sary means of knowledge, called believing, by the 
 prophet; and, is so sure a step to the whole, either 
 naturally, or by the grace of God, that I would de- 
 sire no more, than to find all my readers possessed 
 of this virtue. But this must be as it will. And so 
 I proceed to 
 
 The last topic of my discourse, which is to observe, 
 (to the great surprize of all the natural philosophers 
 and' persons in the world) that even natural science 
 or philosophy itself, truly meant and understood, is 
 wholly owing to the assistance of revelation. 
 
 By natural science or philosophy, I do not mean 
 that particular science, which is usually called by 
 that name, and otherwise by that of physics. But 
 I mean the general knowledge of the natures of 
 things; and this, rightly understood, we find to be 
 their inexistence; or, the dependence which they all 
 have, either mediately or immediately, on the Logos > 
 or Son of God. 
 
 But then, as no man knoweth the Son, but the Fa- 
 ther, and he to whomsoever the Son shall reveal him* 
 self ^5 we ma y know for certain, that it is wholly 
 owing to the revelation which he has made of him- 
 self, in the scriptures, and more particularly as in the 
 text, that we know any thing truly of the general 
 natures of things, and consequently of true philo- 
 sophy. For he is, as he has said himself, Both the 
 way and the truth, as well as the life^. That is, as 
 our subject here leads us to understand it, he is not 
 only the principal object, and end, and substance, 
 
 * Isa. vii. 9. t Matt. xi. 27 t John xiv. 6'. 
 
( 127 ) 
 
 and every thing else, which is of the essence of true 
 religion, which leadeth to life eternal ; but He is 
 also both our logic and our metaphysics ; that is, in 
 a word, the truth of truths, and the foundation- 
 stone of the whole fabric of philosophy. 
 
 And yet, I do not hereby intend to say, that even 
 our vulgar physics (which we know is founded on a 
 contradiction, and has no dependence on the person 
 of the Son of God) is therefore utterly and wholly 
 false. For, though it has nothing to do, but is ra- 
 ther an enemy to the person ; yet it has some found- 
 ation in the word of the Son of God, where the 
 language of external matter is almost continually 
 used, and therefore true in his will, though nothing 
 in itself. But, what I say, is this. That either for 
 this reason, it must stancl excluded from the sacred 
 name of philosophy, and be contented with the in- 
 ferior title of a manual or mechanic art, (as not 
 tending in the least to the chief end of man, consi- 
 dered as a thinking being, which is the knowledge of 
 his own, and all the creature's dependence on the 
 Logos, or Son of God, but to the worldly uses and 
 conveniences of life;) or, if it needs will be called 
 philosophy, it may be called also by its Christian 
 name oi'pithanolvgy *, or science, falsely so called |~ : 
 and then, we need not much fear the danger of 
 being spoiled or puffed up by it. 
 
 And yet, how vainly are we apt to think, that by 
 our mere natural faculties, without the help of the 
 Word or Wisdom of God, we are not only masters 
 and doctors of philosophy ; but are also able to de- 
 lineate a true system of morality, or of religion 
 towards God. And this, forsooth, we call by the 
 name of natural religion. 
 
 Well, and let it be so called, since the wisdom of 
 the world will needs delight in contradictions; I 
 can testify no more than this ; that, 
 
 * Col. ii. 4, t 1 Tim. vi. 20. 
 
( 128 ) 
 
 As, by faith and prayer, and a diligent medita- 
 tion on the word of God, I have found for myself, 
 and have here done my best, in short, to convince 
 as many as will attend, that the Logos or Son of 
 God, is the general 'A^ of being, with respect to 
 all the creatures of God, and consequently, the sole 
 foundation of all that is truly called science or phi- 
 losophy ; so they need not fear, but in bearing me 
 company to the end of this work, they will find 
 much more abundant evidence to convince thein 
 that the same pre-eminent and incomparable person 
 is also the A?w of righteousness and power, and 
 whatever else we are taught to comprehend within 
 the name of true religion. For no man cometh to 
 the Fathtr but by the Son*. To whom be glory 
 and dominion, from everlasting to everlasting. 
 Amen, Hallelujah 1 
 
 * John xiv. 6". 
 
 FINIS. 
 
( 129 ) 
 
 IN 1732 Mr. Collier published his Logology, 
 or a " Treatise on the Logos, in seven Sermons 
 on John i. verses 1, 2, 3, 14, together with an 
 Appendix on the same subject," and as his theolo- 
 gical opinions are, in some points, closely con- 
 nected with his metaphysical, the curiosity of 
 learned readers will, in all probability, be gratified by 
 the following abridgment of the tenets defended 
 in the above mentioned publication. 
 
 Upon the two first verses of St. John he says, 
 " It is apparent from them that Jesus Christ was, 
 according to our translation, before the incarnation, 
 in the beginning, and even before the creation, 
 that he was with God, and was God. 7 * But the 
 word 'Afw has other meanings in the word of God 
 besides the relation that it bears to time, arid its 
 meaning here is that Christ is the preserver or up- 
 holder of all things, Heb. i. 3. All things exist 
 and have their being in him, Acts xvii, 28." 
 " There is an order and manner in which creatures 
 have their being in the world; they were made to 
 exist in Christ as in their principle; all created 
 things exist, not all at the same distance, but at 
 several distances or projections. Men and angels 
 have their existence, immediately in the Son, whom 
 St. John calls the Word/' After this illustration 
 of Genesis i. 1. which may be found also in the 
 specimen subjoined to the Clavis, Mr. Collier says 
 that " according to St. John in the beginning was 
 the Word, i. e. the Word himself was in a begin- 
 ning : that the article TJJ is not in the original, that 
 though the Word is the principle of all created 
 things, yet he is not absolutely the beginning of 
 being, but exists himself in a principle, as the crea- 
 
tn res exist in him : that the text of St. John 
 should be thus translated, kf And the Word- was 
 with God, and the Word was God, and He, the 
 same, was in a beginning with God ;" that *r?oj, 
 commonly translated with, also signifies to or con- 
 cerning; that in Heb. i 7- nfa /KEV TK5 'Ay-ye*^ Xryci, 
 Kfog is translated of, or concerning, and in the next 
 verse nfa rov wov, ta the Son, that it signifies both 
 or either indifferently, as it happens to be spoken 
 of or directed to, the persons concerned, viz. the 
 angels or the Son of God : that it signifies both or 
 either indifferently, because in its first signification 
 it means with respect to; that such is its signification 
 in the first verse of St. John ; that God is the im- 
 mediate principle of the Word ; that there is a dis- 
 tinction in the sound or name of God ; that in the 
 text we have God the Word existing in a beginning 
 with respect to God, i. e. God existing and God in- 
 existing) God absolute and God respective, and that 
 the distinctions into which this may be varied, as 
 pure and mixed, abstract and concrete, simple and 
 complex, one and manifold, are equivalent to the 
 common distinction of God the Father and the 
 Son, which runs throughout the New Testament, 
 and that in each there is some peculiar denotation, 
 expressing the same relation under different con- 
 ceptions, or, as we may say, abstractions ; that 
 Christ is not and cannot be God in the same sense 
 of the word in which he with whom the Word is 
 said to be in the beginning is called God ; that a 
 distinction is to be made between God existing and 
 God inexisting, God absolute and .God respective; 
 that from the words, " being with God before all 
 time, it does not follow that the Word is absolutely 
 or universally consubstantial or coequal with him ;" 
 " that of consubstantial there are two notions, first, 
 as one thing exists in the other, and, secondly, as 
 both exist jointly and immediately in a common or 
 
third substance : that in the last sense of the word 
 all material things are consubstantial with each 
 other, and such are the souls of men and angels, 
 and that as matter exists in mind, so minds exist in 
 the one 'Ap%i or beginning of the creation, the only 
 begotten of God, and that in the first sense of the 
 word every soul that exists in him is consubstantial 
 with him, as he is our immediate principle or sub- 
 stance : that he is content to call this by the name 
 of consubstantiality, though it be a word of our 
 own creation : that in the second sense of the term, 
 viz. that God and the Word do exist jointly and 
 immediately in a common substance, the Antioch- 
 ian fathers, half a century before the Council of 
 Nice, rejected it ; that though according to Bishop 
 Bull the Council of Nice established the term in a 
 different sense, his own explanation is the very same 
 with that which the fathers of Antioch had rejected, 
 illustrated by the very comparison which Mr. Col- 
 lier uses, namely, the consubstantiality oj souls or 
 spirits with each other: that, though in one possible 
 sense the Word or Son is consubstantial with the 
 Father, little can be done to save the credit of the 
 attribute co-equal ; that to say the Son is absolutely 
 supreme God is not the language of the New Tes- 
 tament, and as he particularly contends, not of the 
 text, for ** how can He be said to be absolutely 
 the supreme God, whose existence is inexistence, 
 and whose being or nature is respective to another, 
 who by way of distinction is absolutely called God." 
 
 I have stated with all possible fairness the 
 peculiar opinions and reasoning of Mr. Collier, 
 though I am neither convinced by the one, nor 
 much enlightened by the other. 
 
 In sermon the second he enters into an expla- 
 nation of the proposition that the word was with 
 God. He had endeavoured to show in the first 
 sermon that the Word was immediately united to 
 
( 138 ) 
 
 God, inasmuch as God was his immediate principle 
 or substance. But that He who is called the Word 
 with respect to God is that Word of God by whom 
 the heavens were made*, and by whom the Father 
 made the ivorld-\ 3 is equivalent to the language of 
 St. John in verse 3, where it is said, u all things 
 were made by him, and without him was not any 
 thing made that was made." He then, as our im- 
 mediate principle of existence, is or was our imme- 
 diate Creator, so truly and universally the Creator of 
 all things, that there is not any one thing excepted, 
 either in heaven or in earth, of which he is or was not 
 the immediate Creator." He would render the words 
 made universally in their relation to every thing 
 that has been done or is called the work of God, as 
 well since the beginning, as at the time of the crea- 
 tion " all things have been done by him, and with- 
 out him has not any thing been done that has been 
 done." The proof of this proposition he reserves 
 to a separate discourse upon the declaration of St. 
 John that the word was God. The rest of the se- 
 cond discourse is employed in proving what he calls 
 the * mystery of strict creation, contained in this 
 proposition that the Word was the immediate Cre- 
 ator of all things, or that God made all things, 
 without exception, by his Son.'* While he is en- 
 deavouring to establish this proposition, he refers to 
 the opinion maintained in his Clavis, " that matter 
 necessarily exists in mind, or in the soul oj him that 
 seeth or perceiveth it, find so may in some sense be 
 said to be caused or created by it (as depending in 
 some measure on our particular wills, which is as 
 much as to say, that it is too near to nothing to exist, 
 or be caused rmm aiufi ty in or by any higher princi- 
 ple) so," sa\ s tie, <k May not the same be applied 
 to us, that our natures and essences are too vain 
 
 * Psalm xxviii. 6* t Heb. i. 2. 
 
( 133 ) 
 
 and empty to be capable of being the immediate 
 creatures of pure God." 
 
 et Since we are here, it must needs be true, 
 that there is a mean proportional between pure 
 God and us ; because if there were none, we could 
 not exist at all, but were as absolute nothings as he 
 is absolute being." 
 
 " But what is this mean proportional between 
 God and us? Why, the answer to this is the truth 
 of the text, which saith, that all things were made 
 by the Word of God, i. e. not immediately by God 
 himself, but immediately by his Word or Son ; and 
 therefore, consequently by pure God ; because He, 
 our immediate Maker and Creator, is the Son of 
 the Father, and the Word of pure and absolute 
 God." 
 
 Now this, as he observed before, is, he thinks, 
 all that is revealed to us concerning the manner or 
 mystery of creation. He does not say that this 
 is "the whole truth of the matter. " But still, if it is 
 all that God hath told us in his word, it may justly 
 be called our all, as we are not capable of proceed- 
 ing any farther." 
 
 The third discourse is upon these words, 
 <c And the word was God," where he would show 
 how " this our immediate principle and Creator, 
 was the doer and disposer of all things that had 
 been done or said to be the work of God- in all 
 the periods of the Old Testament dispensation, i. e. 
 from the beginning of the world to what is said in 
 the fourteenth verse, that " the Word was made 
 flesh and dwelt amongst us." 
 
 He founds this proposition upon the authority 
 of the text, " And the Word was God," and he 
 again unfolds the import of the same proposition by 
 saying that u the person called the Word was he 
 that was called God before his coming in the flesh, 
 and that he was the God who was called Jehovah, 
 
( 134 ) 
 
 and the Lord God, Elohim, and the Lord of Hosts, 
 in the writings of Moses, and of the prophets who 
 came after him ; that is, in a word, the God re- 
 vealed of the Old Testament." 
 
 In explaining Ileh. i. 2. he says that aiuvx;, 
 which we translate the world, is properly to he ren- 
 dered ages, and that the ages or periods of the Old 
 Testament are from Adam to Noah, from Noah to 
 Abraham, from Abraham to Moses, and so on to 
 John the Baptist, who was the introducer of the 
 present, and the finisher of all the ages of the Old 
 Testament, In answer to the question, whether 
 " it was not true that the Father was at the same 
 time the God of Israel/' he says, " Yes, certainly, 
 it was as true as that He was then the God and 
 Father of his Word and Son ; which is not an his- 
 torical, but an absolute and eternal truth. But still 
 we find it to be true (in the historical way) that the 
 Son and not the Father was the God of the Old 
 Testament. And what can be the truth of this, but 
 that the name of the Father was not at that time 
 revealed ; and so the person of the God revealed 
 was not the Father, but the Son." 
 
 In sermon four, he interprets John i. 14. 
 " And the Word was made flesh," and of this as- 
 sertion, in connection with what he had before said, 
 he " takes the whole meaning to be this, that He, 
 the same who was the Word of God, by whom the 
 heavens were made ; who was also the very person 
 who had once been in the form arid majesty of a 
 God, and was the God revealed of the Old Testa- 
 ment: He, lastly, who had been called the angel 
 of the covenant, and of the presence of God ; and 
 was indeed an angel, both by nature and office; 
 (though we believe that by inheritance he obtained 
 a more excellent name than all the rest of the or- 
 der, Heb. i. 4 9) did at a certain time come down 
 from all his glory, power, happiness and perfection, 
 
( 135 ) 
 
 and become a Son of Man, in the ordinary method 
 of being born of a woman ; thereby making him- 
 self subject to all the miseries and infirmities of our 
 present human nature, state or condition." 
 
 He observes, that in " all the accounts given 
 of our Lord, or the Word, we find not a syllable of 
 any other or third idea besides the Word and the 
 Flesh, that when God is said " to be manifested 
 in the flesh," that, the " second man is the Lord from 
 heaven ;" that "forasmuch as the children are parta- 
 kers of flesh and blood, so also Christ likewise took 
 part of the same :" " we find not the least mention 
 or intimation of any human soul or created spirit, 
 which was united to the Word at the instant of the 
 incarnation, and created for this end, to be the bond 
 of union between the word and the flesh." 
 
 After remarking that " a time has been when 
 " during the sleep of the watchmen of the church, so 
 " very a tare as the belief of a human soul united to 
 " Christ, and created at the instant of incarnation, 
 " had been sown in upon the Word, during the sleep 
 " of the watchmen of the church, as it is expressed 
 " in our Saviour's parable of the tares $" he supposes 
 that " there are yet a. certain few who are not yet 
 " fast asleep, and those few he desires to consider, 
 cc that it is not pretended by the patrons of the opi- 
 " nion which he opposes," " that there is any one pas- 
 " sage to be found in the word of God, which has any 
 <4 such expression in it as that the Word did assume, 
 ct or was united to, an human spirit ; notwithstanding 
 " that they have imposed it on themselves and others, 
 as the principal test and trial of orthodoxy that 
 " we are absolutely and frequently forbidden to add 
 <c to or diminish the word of God, and that the ad- 
 " dition of a human spirit to the pure tradition of 
 " the text does diminish the force and even deny the 
 " truth of what is plainly taught as concerning the 
 "mystery of our Lord, the God of Israel, being 
 
( 136 ) 
 
 " manifested in the flesh, and suffering for our re- 
 " demption." 
 
 He observes that it is " possible for those who 
 cc hold this addition so to contrive that they may not 
 " contradict themselves in the same breath, but at 
 different times, as they speak upon different sub- 
 < jects. That thus in speaking of the incarnation 
 " they may take no notice of the sufferings of Christ, 
 " but only the constituent parts of his composition, 
 and so here they may insert their doctrine of the 
 CJ human spirit without expressly denying that it was 
 " God the Word who suffered death on the cross ; 
 tc and that on the other hand, in speaking of the 
 sufferings and death of Christ, they may drop the 
 < mention of the human or created spirit, and then 
 " may freely tell us that the Word, the Son of God, 
 was made partaker of our infirmities, and may ex- 
 patiate upon the infinite value of his sufferings ; 
 that this is exactly the very management of the 
 " affair whereby they deceive themselves, into a fond 
 opinion, that they do not really contradict either the 
 scriptures or themselves ; but that in one particular 
 < instance the contradiction is so very flagrant that 
 " they can hardly chuse but .see it, because the op- 
 posite assertions are most commonly found toge- 
 ther; as when they tell us, that at the incarnation 
 of our Lord he assumed or was united to a particu- 
 lar human spirit which was united to the flesh, they 
 seldom or never fail to hold us down to that form 
 of words as the language of pure antiquity, namely 
 " that our Lord, the Word, did assume the human 
 nature, but not any human person, as an human 
 * c spirit vmited to an human body was not properly 
 " a person, even in their own sense of the words." 
 
 In sermon the fifth he takes a view of what 
 c< is commonly urged in favour of the addition from 
 " reason, as that, whereas our Lord assumed the 
 " frailty of our flesh, he would not certainly omit to 
 
( 137 ) 
 
 " assume a human spirit, which is by much the nobler 
 r< part of oar composition, and that without a human 
 <r spirit he could not have been a man." To the first 
 he answers, " if this had been the fact of our Lord's 
 *' incarnation, it cannot possibly be imagined that 
 " the perfect word of God should only tell us that he 
 <c became flesh, or omit to inform us that he also as- 
 <c sumed an human soul or spirit, which is so much 
 " the more noble part of our composition." Upon the 
 second he asks, for " what reason should he not be 
 called a man, even if he did not assume an human 
 spirit ?" "It is supposed by consent between all 
 cc parties that he had something at least equivalent to 
 " what is called a human spirit, or (according to Col- 
 " lier's notion) that the place of human spirit was 
 <c supplied by another spirit, namely, the Word and 
 < Son of God," as formerly he had been man or 
 angel god. " He formerly had been an angel, but 
 l after the incarnation he could not justly be called 
 " by the name of angel, because by this very act he 
 cc quitted that name or character to become the son 
 " of man, and if a proper name be demanded for 
 " him now, he might be called ^0^0$' !" Collier ob- 
 jects to his adversaries their disuse of this ancient 
 and proper way of speaking, u to which disuse they 
 * c were compelled in consequence of their addition of 
 tc the human spirit, and were farther compelled to 
 " divide the Word from the man, and to call him God 
 " and man instead of God-man." After objecting 
 to the term human nature in its common accepta- 
 tion as including all the essentials of our composi- 
 tion, he allows that '* the Word so far took our 
 " nature upon him as to be born of a woman, and so 
 " by natural consequence become subject to all the 
 " miseries and infirmities of our human state." 
 
 Having discussed the arguments drawn from 
 reason in the fifth discourse, he proceeds in the sixth 
 
 T 
 
( 138 ) 
 
 to examine the scriptural proofs adduced in fa- 
 vour of the opinion " that our Lord had a human 
 spirit, as that Jesus increased in wisdom and sta- 
 ture, that, in his prayer to the Father he had said, 
 " Not my will, but thine be done ;" that his soul 
 is said to be exceedingly sorrowful, even unto 
 death ; that he commended his spirit into the hand 
 of God, and that if he had not a human soul toge- 
 ther with the flesh, they who maintained he had not 
 should be challenged to explain in what sense he 
 could be sard to die ?" To these arguments he re- 
 plies with his usual acuteness and vivacity. 
 
 In the seventh sermon he states and endeavours 
 to refute what c< is commonly urged in a more di- 
 rect opposition to that which he considers as the 
 scripture account of the incarnation of our Lord." 
 In repelling the charge of absurdity and blasphemy, 
 he makes some sharp remarks upon his antagonists, 
 who u when Christ is said by himself to make atone- 
 ment for our sins, own that in strict propriety the 
 terms do say that the Word did suffer in the flesh, 
 but maintain, that instead of standing upon the 
 propriety of the expressions, we must interpret 
 them so as to make them agreeable with the princi- 
 ples of reason." tl These, by the way," says he, 
 4< are your great defenders of mystery, who are 
 " continually telling you that you must not use your 
 ?< reason in matters of faith : that is, when you cail 
 " in question any mystery of their own inventing. 
 " But you see how they change their note when 
 " you offer them the w ord of God. But since we 
 *' have begun, let us end the controversy with them. 
 u And so I answer as follow^eth. You say, you be- 
 " lieve the word, but would fain reconcile all its say- 
 " ings to reason ! But have you never tried to recon- 
 " cile your reason to the word of God ?" 
 
 He supposes that " his antagopists will call 
 " himself and others who deny the union of the hu- 
 
( 139 ) 
 
 " man spirit, by the name of heretics, either Arian 
 "or Apollinarian, but most probably the last, be- 
 " cause according to church history and the manner 
 of these times, Apollinaris was condemned as an 
 " heretic for peaceably, (as Collier supposes,) main- 
 '< taining that the Word was made flesh in the proper 
 " and obvious sense of the words." 
 
 In the conclusion of the seventh sermon we 
 have these striking, and in one respect only, I must 
 confess, offensive words : " How necessary it is to 
 " believe the word, in order to be a just interpreter 
 "of it; and yet how rarely this necessary qualifica- 
 " tion is found amongst us? Secondly, how danger- 
 " ous a thing it is to speak of the truths of God in 
 ' unscriptural terms or phrases? And how naturally - 
 '< the use of these does involve us in the guilt of 
 " adding to the word of\God? Thirdly, how exceed- 
 " ing baneful are the rudiments of philosophy, when 
 *' applied to the word of God ; and so much the more 
 " pernicious when we use them to explain the fun- 
 "damentals of our faith?" 
 
 The appendix consists of thirty-three pages. 
 It is written with great vigour, and contains what 
 Collier calls " Plain and short answers to a book 
 intitled " Plain and short arguments from scripture, 
 proving the Lord Jesus Christ to be the supreme 
 God, or one and the same God with the Father, 
 notwithstanding his acknowledged inferiority to the 
 Father with respect to his human nature and me- 
 diatorship." 
 
 The reader will do me the justice to believe, 
 that in stating Mr. Collier's opinions upon the lan- 
 guage of St. John, I have not the smallest inten- 
 tion directly or indirectly to insinuate my own. 
 I mean to describe, not to vindicate or recommend 
 those opinions; and surely they who are struck 
 with the peculiarity of Collier's metaphysical sys- 
 tem, cannot be wholly incurious about those theo- 
 
( 140 ) 
 
 logical tenets which he held with so much apparent 
 sincerity, and defended with so much dexterity and 
 so much ardour. The resemblance between his 
 philosophy and his faith is manifest from what he 
 says upon the distinction between existence and 
 inexistence. The similarity of his opinions to those 
 of Apollinaris was not unsuspected by himself, 
 and may be illustrated by the following quotation 
 from Lord King's History of the Creed. "The 
 heresy of Apollinaris was, according to St. Austin's 
 expression, that Christ (De H acres, cap. 55. p. 
 182.) assumed flesh without a soul, or, as Cassian 
 words it (De Incarn. Christ, lib. 1. p. 1241.) that 
 he had not an human soul, or a rational soul; for 
 he allowed him a sensitive soul as in brutes, but 
 denied him to have a reasonable one, as Vincentius 
 Lirinensis writes (Comment, cap. 17. p. 50.) that 
 Apollinaris affirmed, that there was not in our Sa- 
 viour's body an human soul, at least not such a 
 one wherein was mind and reason; but that (Epit. 
 Hser. Fab. lib. 4. in Haer, Apol. p. 167.) instead 
 thereof his divinity supplied its room and place. 
 So that in short, the error of Apollinaris was this; 
 that though Christ in his becoming man was Wf*o^ 
 that is, was incarnate, had real flesh and a sub- 
 stantial body, yet he was not V^Wfc that is, he 
 had no reasonable human soul, but his divinity per- 
 formed all the actions and offices thereof*/' 
 
 They who wish for farther information upon 
 this subject would do well to consult the article 
 Apollinaris inserted in volume the second of the 
 General Dictionary, and written with great ability 
 by the Reverend John Peter Bernard. 
 
 When the reader reflects on what Mr. Collier 
 says, about <f the daftger of speaking in unscrip- 
 tural phrases of the truths of God, and the bane- 
 fulness of applying to God's word the rudiments 
 * See p. 247, of King on the Apostle's Creed. 
 
of philosophy," he cannot fail to observe, that 
 Collier's interpretation of the text in St. John is 
 founded upon his own philosophical distinction 
 between existence and inexistence ; is illustrated 
 by reference to his peculiar hypothesis, that 
 matter necessarily exists in mind; and is ex- 
 pressed in language which bears little resem- 
 blance to the simple unadorned phraseology of 
 the Gospel. 
 
CONJECTURE QILEDAM 
 
 DE 
 
 SENSU, MOTU, 
 
 ET 
 
 IDEARUM GENERATIONE 
 
 DAVIDE HARTLEY AUCTORE. 
 
CONJECTURE QtLEBAM, 
 
 SENSU, MOTU, 
 
 ET 
 
 ID ft A RUM GENERATIONS. 
 
 L 
 
 rICEAT, huic de Lithontriptico Disser- 
 tation], subnectere nonnulla de Sensu, Motu, atque 
 Ideis; quse, quamvis ab ea aliena sint, ad Medici- 
 nas tamen Theoriam generalem pertinent, eique 
 promovenda) inservire possunt. Hauriuntur enim 
 ex hac Theoria, qualis ab Anatomicis et Medicis 
 jam elaborata est, collata cum iis, quae Ncrvionus 
 de Vibrationibus per Animalium cerebra propagatis, 
 Lockius autem, & post eum alii Viri celebres, de 
 Associationis in mentem humanam vi, tradidere. 
 Tantis utique adjumentis & auctoritatibus fretus, 
 olim agressus sum ulteriorem enucleationem Sensa- 
 tionum, Motuum et Idearum ; tandemque videot 
 mihi ipsi incidisse in aliquam speciem Veri. Sentio 
 interea multas subesse dubitandi causas, nmltaque 
 contra afferri posse. Quocirca decrevi, harum re- 
 rum Theoriam quandam conjecturalem breviter de- 
 lineare, atque, arrepta hac occasione, Medicorum et 
 Philosophorum libero examini subjicere; lit exinde 
 edocear, quid corrigendum, delendum, vel denique 
 retinendum fuerit. Proposui autem Conjectural 
 Vol. 2.] A 
 
rneas, utut rades & incertas, sub forma Demonstra- 
 tionurn matbematicarum, eo quod hgec forma com- 
 modissima videatur ad rerum discutiendarum vim 
 et men tern rite assequendam. 
 
 PROP. 1. 
 
 Substantia alba medullaris cerebri^ medulltf 
 spinalis, & nervorum inde orhmdorum, est instru- 
 mentum proxlmum Sensationum <Sf Motuum. 
 
 Patet ex Physiol'ogia & Pathologia. Sub no- 
 mine cerebri connplector cerebrum proprie dictum, 
 cerebellum & medulla m oblongatam. 
 
 PROP. %. 
 
 Substantia medullaris cerebri est ctiam instru- 
 mentum proximum Idearum ; i. e. Vanatur status 
 hujus substantive pro varietate Idearum, qua: Anima 
 obversantur. 
 
 Patet ex iisdem ; prxsertim vero ex historia 
 Sensuum internorum, & Phsenomenis morborum, in 
 quibus mens laborat. Quinetiam utraque proposi- 
 tio ulterius confirmabitur ab insequentibus. 
 
 PROP. 3. 
 
 Sensationes manent in Anima, per breve tem- 
 poris intervallum, post objecta. remota. 
 
 Satis constat in visibilibus & audibilibus ; De 
 caeteris idem inferre licet ex Analogia. 
 
 PROP. 4. 
 
 Objecta, sensibus externis impressa y excitant, 
 prime m nervis affcctis y deinde in cerebro, Vibra- 
 tiones particularum mmimaritm medullarium. 
 
 Per Vibrationes particukrum intelligo earun- 
 dem itus & reditus, sive oscillationes; brevissimas 
 quidem, sed ejusdem generis cum oscillationibus 
 corporum funi-pendulorum, & tremoribus sonan- 
 
tium. Particularum dico ; nervos enim ipsos Vi~ 
 brationibus, aut oscillationibus, agitari, more chor- 
 darum musicarum, nullus assero, neque omnino ere- 
 dibile est. 
 
 Propositio evincitur ex hac jam dicta commo- 
 ratione Sensationum in Anima, utcunque brevi. 
 Vix enim concipi potest quaevis motus species, vi- 
 bratoria excepta, qua? huic conditioni satisfaciat. 
 Necesse est autem, ut aliquis motus imprimatur 
 nervis & cerebro ab objectis sensuum; cum haec; 
 utpote corporea, in nervos & cerebrum, itidem cor- 
 porea, agere non possint, nisi motum iis -imprimen- 
 do. Porro uti base propositio sequitur ex pra^ce- 
 dente, ita hac concessa sequetur ilia ; & locum ha- 
 bebit in tactu, gustu & olfactu, pari ratione, ae in 
 visu & auditu. 
 
 PROP. 5. 
 
 Vibrationes exdtantur in nervis <8f delude ccre~ 
 bro commnnicantur, ope ^Etheri, sive spiritus cu- 
 jusdam subtilissimi ; adjuvantibus etiam uniformi- 
 tate, continuitale, mollitie, SC viribus activis substan- 
 tice medullaris nervorum 8C cerebri. 
 
 De his singulis pauca sunt praemittenda. 
 
 Spiritum snbtilissimum, & summe elasticum, 
 atque proinde Vibrationibus recipiendis & cornmu- 
 nicandis aptissimum, turn latere in corporibus eras- 
 sis, turn per spatia his destituta diffundi, crediblle 
 visum est Newtono. Hunc porro spiritum nomine 
 JEtheris ideo insignivit, ut sub hac simplici & ap- 
 propriata appellatione de eo commodius disserere- 
 tur; monuitque videri esse rariorem in corporibus 
 crassis, densiorem in circuitu eorum, densitate ejus 
 semper increscente, quoties ab iis receditur. Ve- 
 rum omnino consulendus est Newtonus ipse de ex- 
 istentia & proprietatibus hujusce ^Etheris, cum ad- 
 modum incertus has ream, an mentem ejus satis as- 
 ecutus fuerim. Optandum est, ut in lucem emit- 
 
( 4 ) 
 
 tantur, siqua alio de hac re in scriptis ejus posthu- 
 mis comparcant : lino optandum, ut summi hujus 
 optimique Viri opera omnia posthuma ocius publici 
 juris fiant ; cum illud non potest non esse magno 
 Rei Literariae, Philosophic, & Religion!, emolu- 
 mento. 
 
 Uniformitas & continuitas substantiae medul- 
 laris cerebri & nervorum, patent, aliquo modo, ex 
 ipsorum sensuum testimonio. Verum sequi etiam 
 videntur a vasorum hujus substantiae exilitate, om- 
 nem conceptum fugiente. Cum enim substantia 
 medullaris oriatur a corticali, ordines autern ultimi 
 vasorum hujus exiliores sint, quam ut subtilissimaB 
 Injectiones eos ingrediantur, verisimile est illam 
 constare e vasis, fluidisque, longe minoribus, quam 
 ut Vibrationes infra describendte turbentur, aut in- 
 tercipiantur, a vacuitate quavis notabili, vel inxqua- 
 htate texturae. Quin et facile concipi potest, dif- 
 fluentem illam mollitiem, quae in substantia alba 
 medullari observatur, ex eadem vasorum ejus exi- 
 litate nasci. 
 
 Moveri solet quaestio, an nervuli simplices, ul- 
 timi, pro capillamentis solidis, e vasorum, unifbrrm- 
 ter inter se intertextorum congerie, constantibus, 
 cum Ntiwtono haberi debeant, an pro tubulis cavis 
 cum Roerhaavio. In priorem partem ipse feror, 
 cum Doctrina Vibrationum illud postulare videatur. 
 Interim notandum est, quse de systematis nervosi 
 structura & muniis tradidit Boerhaavius, & pulcher- 
 rima esse, & cum hac Doctrina satis congruere, si 
 modo pauca excipias. 
 
 Quaeri etiam potest. annon tenuissimae quae- 
 dum piie matris propagines se inserant inter singu- 
 las substantive medullaris regiones, harumq; divi- 
 siones mi no res; atque illas a se invicem separando, 
 continuitatem supra dictam aliquo modo interrurn- 
 pant. Kespondeo, hoc verisimile esse ex Analogia 
 rnembranse cellularis, neque tamen adversari Doq- 
 
*v j 
 > 
 
 Witt'B^itft! 
 
 Vibrationum, sed, potius ei favere, concessa 
 duntaxat attenuatione propaginum, ubique suffici- 
 ente, et varia in locis variis ; cum Phenomena pos- 
 tulare videantur, ut propagatio Vibrationam per 
 substantiam medullarem cerebri, sit ubique quidem 
 libera, non tamen aeque libera. Caeterum qua ra- 
 tione regiones diversas cerebri, nervique inde ori- 
 undi, sibi invicem communicationibus iutermediis 
 uniantur, ilkid alta caligine involutum est, & forsan 
 semper involvetur, ob sum mam hie loci mollitiem, 
 exquisitissima Anatomicorum artificia eludentem. 
 Interim dari communicationes hujusmodi, turn in 
 cerebro, turn in nervorum plexibus, & gangliis, quaa 
 sunt quasi cerebra minutula, secundum Cl. Winslo- 
 vium, dubitari nequit. 
 
 Proximo loco accedamus ad vires activas par- 
 ticularum substantial medullaris expendendas. Jam 
 vero aliquas vires, aut attractivas, aut repulsivas, 
 aut potius utrasque, variata nimirum distantia, illis 
 competere, negari vix potest, tot exemplis virium 
 hujusmodi, in particulis corporum minimis delites- 
 centium, a Newtono adductis. Fieri etiam potest, 
 ut exilitas particularum e quibus substantia medul- 
 laris componitur, augeat earum vires, ratione molis 
 habita, sicut idem Newtonus innuit respectu parti- 
 cularum Athens ; atque ut particular fluidorurn 
 sint exiliores, adeoque magis actuosae, solidorum 
 particulis. Et sic tandem Fluida, in vasis minu- 
 tissimis substantial medullaris circulum obeuntia, 
 pro Succo nerveo actuoso, Spiritibusve Animalibus, 
 habere licebit ; & prascipua, qua pro recepta Hy- 
 pothesi adducuntur argumenta, Newtonians accom- 
 modari possunt facili uegotio. 
 
 Veniamus jam ad ipsam propositionem. 
 
 Concessis itaque existentia ^Etheris, & unifor- 
 mitate, continuitate, mollitie, viribusque activis sub- 
 stantias medullaris, concipiendum videtur, 
 
 Primo ; Objecta externa, nervis sensoriis im- 
 
( 6 ) 
 
 pressa, excitare Vibrationes in JEthere ibi latente, 
 ope actionum mutuarum inter haec tria, objecta ni- 
 mirum, nervos, & ajthera; qua? quidem actiones 
 mutuce obtinere videntur in sensibus universis, licet 
 in diversis rnultum discrepent inter se. Haec gene- 
 ratio Vibrationum in jEthere, similis est ei, quse fit 
 in Acre a vi percussionis, quando corpora per eum 
 celeriter moventur. 
 
 Secundo; Concipiendum est, has Vibrationes 
 /Etheris agitare particulas minimas nervorum affec- 
 torum Vibrationibus isochronis, eadem ratione, qua 
 Vibrationes Aeris agitant particulas corporum quo- 
 rundam unitbrmium, Vibrationibus sibi itidem iso- 
 chronis. Hue conferunt uniformitas, mollities, & 
 vires activae substanti^ medullaris. Fieri potest 
 fortasse in casibus nonnullis, ut ipsa objecta excitent 
 Vibrationes in particulis nervorum minimis, actione 
 immediata ; eodem fere niodo, ac tremores excitan- 
 tur in corporibus sonoris ab aliorum corporum icti- 
 bus impressis. Rebus ita constitutis, Vibrationes 
 ^Etheris potius censendas sunt modificare, & susten- 
 tare Vibrationes particularum, quam eas ex integrq 
 suscitare. 
 
 Tei tio ; Vibrationes, sic excitata? in nervis 
 sensoriis, propagantur per decursuna nervorum ver- 
 sus cerebrum. Hoc fit prsecipue ope jEtheris uni- 
 ibrmiter disseminati per poros minutulos, & unif'or- 
 mes, substantive medullaris. Verum conspirant 
 tiam, uti dictum est in propositione, uniformitas, 
 continuitas, mollities, & vires activae ipsius substan- 
 t'm medullaris. Hoc enim pacto fiet, ut particular 
 novissime agitatae usque communicent motus suos, 
 i. e. Vibrationes, proxime positis, similibus utique 
 & sequalibus, sine interrptione, & fere sine imminu- 
 tione. Decursus sonorum per superficiem aquse 
 quiescentis, respondet aliquo modo huic decursui 
 Vibrationem per nervos. 
 
 Quarto; Vibrationes jam laudatae cohibentur 
 
( 7 ) 
 
 intfa limites substantial medullaris, vel saltern nor* 
 diffunduntur in partes circumpositas, nisi vi admo 
 dum imminuta, eo quod has partes sint duriores & 
 heterogeneaa, astheraque heterogenetim foveant in 
 poris suis irregularibus ; quod quidem fit pari fere 
 ratione, ac soni, per superficiem terras sese diffun- 
 dentes, magis tnrbantur & intercipiuntur, quam qui 
 per aquam quiescentem decurrunt. Excipienda^ 
 tamen sunt fibrag musciilorum & membranarum, si- 
 cut infra docebitur. 
 
 Quinto ; Quam primum Vibrationes per ner- 
 vum sensorium ascendentes pervenerint ad cere- 
 brum, imminuentur pro ratione materise agitatae, 
 prorsus ut soni ; /. e. quasi in reciproca duplicata 
 ratione distantiarum ab ingressu nervi affecti in ce- 
 rebrum. Quod si pise matris propagines aliquo 
 modo separent diversas regiones cerebri a se invi- 
 cem, Vibrationes erunt validiores in regionibus ner- 
 vo affecto respondentibus, debiliores in reliquis, 
 quam pro hac ratione. 
 
 Censenda est igitur ha^c propositio prascedenti 
 explicandae potissimum inservire. Verum potest 
 etiam et a pra3cedente deduci, & ad earn probandam 
 ipsa usurpari. Namque si sensationes oriantur a 
 Vibrationibus in cerebro excitatis, opus erit fluido 
 subtilissimo, & summe elastico in hunc finem. Et 
 vicissim, si detur hujusmodi fluidum, fieri vix po- 
 test, quin porosmedullarissubstantiae^ quantumlibet 
 minutos, penetret: & ibi commorans, turn ipsum in 
 Vibrationes agi, turn has substantive illi communi- 
 care. 
 
 Natura porro caloris, facilis reflexio & trans- 
 missio radiorum lucis, altermis vicibus recurrens. 
 tremores corporurn sonantium, Vibrationes Aeris 
 per quas soni propagantur, propagatio eorundem 
 tarn per contiguitatern corporum solidorum, quam 
 per Aerem, undulationes aquse, Phenomena Elec- 
 tricitatis-& Elasticitatis, sup quaeque modo & gra- 
 
( 8 ) 
 
 du, suadere videntur, motus quosdam reciprocos lo- 
 cum habere in aliis Phasnomenis naturalibus ; non 
 secus ac attractiones obvias Gravitationis, Cohae-* 
 sionis, Electricitatis, & Magnetism!, cum repulsio- 
 nibus duorum posteriorum, suspicionem movent, 
 vires aliquas ejusmodi, licet subtiliores &, minus con- 
 spicuas, obtinere in particularum corj)ora compo- 
 nentium ordinibus descendentibus. Neque horum 
 omnium, motuum reciprocorum scilicet & virium, 
 in se mutuo involutio, quicquam obest conclusioni 
 utrivis ; cum hujus generis involutiones ubique oc- 
 currant, etiam in rebus certissimis. Fieri etiam 
 potest ut haec omnia, mutuaeque eorundem inve- 
 lutiones omnes, pendeant ab uno, alterove princi- 
 pio simplici. Huic certe favent, quotquot hucusque 
 in lucem datre sunt, rerum complexarum Analyses. 
 
 COR, 1. Vibrationes particularum medullarium 
 discrepare possunt inter se respectu triplici ; gradu 
 scilicet, specie, & loco. Gradu discrepare censen- 
 das sunt, prout validiores fuerint, vel debiliores; 
 2*. e. prout ./Ether plus minusve condensatus fuerit 
 in Pulsuum punctis mediis, rarefactus in eorum in- 
 tervallis; sic enim particulas ibunt & redibunt per 
 longius breviusve spatiolem ; specie, prout plures 
 sunt vel pauciores dato tempore : loco, prout hanc 
 vel illam regionem cerebri prsecipue occupant. 
 
 COR. 2. Magnitudines sensationum sunt fere 
 proportionales Vibrationibus in cerebro excitatis. 
 Negligi enim plerumque possunt, ob parvitatem 
 suam, quse in medulla spinali, & nervis ipsis exci- 
 tantur. 
 
 COR. 3. Est itaque Cerebrum quasi sedes 
 Aninice sentientis, sive sensorium Animalium, eti- 
 am ex Hypothesi, quod Anima sentiens asque arc- 
 tarn affinitatem habeat cum omnibus partibus sub- 
 stantise albae medullaris cerebri, medulla; spinalis, & 
 nervorum, secundum prop. l m . Sin vero aliquo mo- 
 do ab hac recedendum sit, & supponendum potius, 
 
( 9 ) 
 
 quod uti partes externas, (cutis puta, vel tunica; 
 oculi) nervis; ita nervos &: spinalem medullam cc- 
 rebro, cerebrumque ipsum Animrc sentient! famu- 
 lari; a fortiori concludendom erit, sensorium Ani- 
 malium in cerebro Jocari debere, forsan in parte 
 quadam intimiore. Adsurit profecto no-nnulla, qiur 
 huic opinion! favent. 
 
 COR 4. Concessa existentia JEtheris, pront 
 deducitur, vel ex hac & pracedente proposition^ 
 vel ex iis, qure pro Doctrina Vibrationum faciunt, 
 in propositionibus insequentibus stabilietur usus 
 ejus in resolvendis aliis Phaenomenis natural ibus. 
 
 PROP. 6. 
 
 Phenomena Voluptatis 5f Dolor is toideniitr 
 satis convenire Doctrine Vibrationum. 
 
 Sensationum Accidentia primaria sunt Volup- 
 tas & Dolor. Expectari igitur potest, ut Doctrina 
 Vibrationum horum Phjenomenis apte explicandis 
 inserviat. Expendamus ea sigillatim. 
 
 Primo itaque, Probabile videtur ex Pha;nome- 
 nis, Voluptatem unamquamque differre a Dolore 
 respondente & opposito, tantum gradu; adeoque 
 Dolorem esse nil nisi Voluptatem, quasi auctam 
 ultra certum lirnitem. Sic calor gratus increscendo 
 transit in dolorificum; & idem obtinet in lumine, & 
 sonis. Medicamenta porro sunt plerumque ingrati 
 saporis & odoris, utpote linguam & nares vi nimis 
 valida ferientia ; dum alimentia vulgaria, qua? base 
 organa leniter tantum movent, Voluptatem prtebent* 
 Postremo, Dolores quam plurimi decrescendo tan- 
 dem migrant in Voluptates ; clarissime enim perci- 
 pi potest, ipsam partem, quie nuper doluit, jam 
 sensu grato affici. Statim vero apparet ha^c omnia 
 facile accomodari posse Doctrinae Vibrationum^ 
 modicas enim erratorum obiectorurn impressiones 
 [Vol. 2. B 
 
censeiicfe sunt excitare Vibrationes modicas ; vafi- 
 dae ingratoruni, validas. 
 
 Securwlo ; Dolor oritur a quavis manifesta so- 
 hitione continui in partibus viventibus-. Jam vero 
 facile patet, /Ethera in nervis latentem, quam max- 
 ime agitari debere ab eorum cohsesione soluta; hasa 
 enirn non oritur nisi a validissima impressione ob 
 jectorum ; adeoque secum ferat oportet validissimas 
 item actiones mutuas inter objecta, nervos, & ^Ethe- 
 ya. Solutio itaque continui Dolorem pariet, non 
 Voluptatem, per Phenomenon prascedens. 
 
 Tertio; Dolor etiam oritur a quavis notabili 
 extensione partium. Mutantur enim ab extensi- 
 one situs, & actiones mutuas particularum minima- 
 rum, adeoque actiones item mutual particularum 
 & Jtheri; unde liquet jEthera cieri- oportere in 
 Vibrationesy pari ritu ac ab objectorum impressione, 
 easque validas & dolorificas, si extensio fuerit no-^ 
 tabilis. Neque negligendus est calor auctus in ex-' 
 tensionibus a major! frictione humorum circulan- 
 tium. 
 
 Fieri etiam potest, ut in omni extensione prse- 
 ternaturali, particulx minimae a se invicem jugiter 
 secedant, solutione continui invisibili iterum atque 
 iterum facta, usque dum partes extensse se, situsque 
 &, actiones mutuas particularum componentiunv 
 novo huic statui accomodaverint. Et vicissim, post 
 nianifestas solutiones continui, secando, lacerando, 
 vel urendo factas, oriri videtur vaseulorum & fibra- 
 rum minimarmn extensio, dolore idcirco renovato 
 & protraeto. 
 
 Quin et q,us*ri potest in universum, annon 
 limes com munis, medius inter Voluptatem & Dolo- 
 pem, constitui debeat in solutione continui particu- 
 larum medullanum minirnarum ; cujus est quasi 
 Typus & lastrumentum, manifesta ilia solutio con- 
 tinui, quse a vi externe illata oritur* Itemque an- 
 
( 11 ) 
 
 non Natnra resarciat has solutiones invisibles, ea- 
 dem fere ratione, qua manifestas ; multo autem fa- 
 cilius& citius; donee tandem substantia medullaris 
 occallescat, & irisensibilitati, mortique cedat. Non- 
 nihil in hac re ponderis habet, conjecturas de invisj- 
 bilibus duel oportere a visi'bilibus. Dignus interim 
 *;st hie locus, qui a Medicis penitus exploretur. 
 
 Doctrina autem Vibradomum plane fa vet buic 
 4e limite medio positioni. Possunt enim Vibrati- 
 ones aut adeo lenes esse, ut iis cessantibus, particular 
 minimae medullares redeant ad solitas distantias, 
 viresque mutuas, Voluptate illas ideirco comitante; 
 aut adeo violent^, ut agitentur particuke ultra 
 sphasras suarum attractionuni, a se invieem dissoci- 
 ntur, & in novos amplexus ruant ; ac proinde Do- 
 lor oboriatur. 
 
 Quarto; Impressione eadem in quodvis organ- 
 urn saspius facta, languet sucpenumero ensatio inde 
 oriunda, adeo ut Dolor in Voluptatem migret, Vo- 
 luptasque perpetim imminuator. Hoc probe con- 
 gruit cum raodo dictis. Ea enirrrest corporum ani^ 
 matorurn^ forte organicorum quorumvis, natura, ut 
 se accomodent statui cuivis ssepius inducto. Ea- 
 dem itaque impressio saepius repetita, si dolorifica 
 sit, semper efficiet minus insignem olutionem con- 
 tinui; vel si Voluptatem ferat, semper magis magis- 
 que recedet ab hoc limite communi, versus partes 
 insensibilitatis. Est porro hoc Phenomenon quar- 
 turn ejusdem generis cum supra memorato transitu 
 Doloris decrescentis in. Voluptatem. 
 
 Quinto; diversi gradus & species Voinptatis & 
 Doloris, oriri posse videntur ex variis combinaticiii- 
 bus Vibrationum, prout ha? differunt inter se loco, 
 gradu, & specie. Fieri enim potest, ut Vibrationes 
 cadant intra limitem medium in una regione cere- 
 bri, dum in aliaeundem transgrediantur, idque mo- 
 dis quam plurimis & diversissimis. Componantur 
 ha3 diversi tates loci, cum diversitatibus gradus & spe- 
 
; j, sive cum iis, qune nascuntur a varia vi & fre- 
 qucntia Vihrationum ; et statim apparebit, omnes 
 Voluptatum & Dolor utn diversitates exinde deduci 
 posse. 
 
 Sexto ; Probabile esfc varias sensationes adia- 
 pboras, quip per quinque sensus externos in Ani- 
 mam incurnuit, ex iisdem ' fontibus derivari. Has 
 enim omnes in statu suo primo, aut Voluptatibus, 
 ant Doloribus anriumerandee sunt; utut post im- 
 pressiones satis repetitas, fiarit adiaphorae, methbdo 
 sub Phcenomeno quarto exposita. Interim non est 
 diffitendum, difTerentias specificas Vibrationium, qui- 
 bus aut ejusdem, aut diversorum sensuum sensatio- 
 nes variae inter se distinguuntur, esse investigatu 
 difficillimas. Conjicere forsan liceat, Vibrationes a 
 Colo ri bus primariisexcitatas, esse numero proportion- 
 ales Vibrationibus chordae musicse, secundum sca- 
 lum tonorum a Newtono positam. Quod si in or- 
 ganis gustus & olfactus, huic Problemati resolvendo 
 pares essemus, verisimile est exinde deduci posse 
 multa, ad abditas corporum naturas spectantia. 
 
 Septimo ; Dolor excitat contractionem in fibris 
 membranarum loco afFecto vicinarum. Patet hoc 
 ex Pathologia. Optime vero congruit cum iis, qua? 
 infra dicentur de Vibrationum effect u in motu mus- 
 culari genera.ido. Cum enim Vibrationes medio- 
 cres, fibris rubris muscularibus contrahendis suffici- 
 ant, quidni violent lores illiB, quas Dolorem pariunt. 
 contrahant fibras membranarum pallidas, licet per 
 se minus contractiles ? 
 
 Addi potest, Dolorem se minus diffundere so- 
 lere in partes circumpositas, quam Titiliationem & 
 Pruritum, qui sunt medii inter Voluptatem & Do- 
 lorem. Hi enim tantum agitant membranas vici- 
 nas, adeoque per eas decurrere possunt ; Dolor au- 
 tem, fibras membranarum contrahendo, sibi ipsi 
 viam, & propagationem in partes adjacentes, quo- 
 dainmodo pnecludit. 
 
Octavo ; Partes extreme & acuminates, quales 
 sunt extremitas nasi, papillae mammarum, & extre- 
 ma digitorum, pruritui, irritationi, & sensationibus 
 exquisitis, prae cateris obnoxias sunt. Huic con- 
 gruit, quod densior JEther, undique circumfusus par- 
 tibas extremis secundum Hypothesin Newtonianam, 
 agitari debet Vibrationibus validioribus, quam quae 
 obtinent in ^Ethere rariore intra nervos concluso, 
 easque adeo communicare particulis contiguis par- 
 tium extremarum. Verum structura & dispositio 
 papillarum nervosarum sentientium, pro causa pri- 
 maria habendae sunfc ; saltern in partibus nonnullis. 
 Interim animadvertendum est, has papillas, cum 
 assurgant ultra superficiem membranarum in quibus 
 disponuntur, varie autem in variis locis, esse quasi 
 partes extremas, atque idcirco, varies suos exquisitae 
 sensibilitatis gradus, a fonte jam enarrato derivare 
 posse. 
 
 Densior ./Ether est itidem contiguus superficiei 
 ventriculorum cerebri, interposita tantum membrana 
 tenuissimaj vel ne hac quidem, cum paulo densior 
 sit ^Ether in interstitio hujus membrana} & substan- 
 tia3 medullaris. Qua^ri itaque potest, annon hie 
 densior ^Ether quiddam conferat sensationibus ia 
 universum augendis ; annon sanguis, aut serum, in 
 ventriculos effusum, easdem suffocet ob Vibrationes 
 impeditas ; denique annon cavitates, in nervis olfac- 
 toriis Brutorum quorumdam observatae, partim in 
 causa sint, quod ha^c Bruta hominibus acutiora sint, 
 in odoribus percipiendis & distinguendis. 
 
 PROP. 7. 
 
 Phenomena Somni videntur satis convenirc 
 Doctrine Vibrationum. 
 
 Primo ; Somnus est status naturalis Foetus in 
 utero manentis, atque adeo Infantis etiam recens 
 editi. Relabitur itaque in somnum cessantibus im- 
 
( 14 ) 
 
 pressionibus externis, ob cessantes itidem Vibrati- 
 ones, per quas vigilia sustentatia fuit. 
 
 Secundo ; Ipsi Adulti sunt magis proclives in 
 Somnum, corpus suum ad quietem componendo, & 
 objecta sensuum excludendo, ob easdem rationes. 
 Dormiunt autem minus quam Infantes, tarn propter 
 minus laxam & magis actuosam naturam solidorum 
 & fluidortim, Vibrationibus suscipiendis retinendis- 
 que aptiorem, quam propter jugem transit ura Idea- 
 rum, cum Vibrationibus annexis, de quo infra. 
 
 Tertio ; durante Somno sanguis accurmilatur 
 in venis, & praecipue in sinubus veoosis cerebrum 
 & medullam spinalem circumcingentibus; plerum- 
 que etiam rarefit. Patent haec ex natura quietis, 
 sanguinis accumulation! in venis favente, ex calore 
 & decubitu supino dormientium, & ex cadaverum 
 dissectione post morbos soporosos. Credibile est 
 igitur, naturam Somni in eo imprimis consistere, ut 
 mollissima substantia medullaris, prcecipue vero in 
 tra cranium, & thecam vertebrarum, comprimatur 
 a corticali, & parti bus vicinis; adeoque minus apta 
 reddatur Vibrationibus stiscipiendis, retinendis, & 
 propagandis. Porro quasri potest, annon parietes 
 oppositi ventriculorum cerebri, ad se invicem acce- 
 dant invadente Somno, & tandem oceupante, pror- 
 .sus contigui fiant. 
 
 Quarto; Propensio in Somnum generatur a 
 vigilia, laboribus, & dolore, i. e. a Vibrationibus, 
 aut vaiidis, aut diu continuatis. Hoc enim pacto f 
 turn calorem generari, turn exilia subsstantia3 medul- 
 laris vasa suis liquidis & partibus actuosis privari, 
 oportet. Substantia igitur medullaris reddetur 
 compressioni magis obnoxia, ex hac causa duplici* 
 
 Quinto ; Opiata videntur somnum inducere ra- 
 tione jsequenti. Opiatum primo excitat gratas, 
 validasque Vibrationes in ventriculo, & intestinis. 
 Ascendant hse jugiter ad cerebrum, ibique diffundunt 
 
( 15 ) 
 
 sese quaquaversum, atque ita porro descenxfant per 
 nervorum truncos. Impedient itaqne ascensum 
 Vibrationum excitatarum in partibus externis, si- 
 mulque sensum voluptatrs toti corpori impertientur, 
 Componetur igitur corpus ad quietem, accumulabi- 
 tur sanguts in venis, incalescerit tarn sol id a quam 
 fluida, rarefient, & compriment substantiate medul- 
 larem. Nee prorsus iocredibile est, Vibrationes ab 
 opiato excitatas, post aliquod temporis spatium, 
 propagari in partes heterogeneas nervrs circumposi- 
 tas, ibique Vibrationes confusas & irregulares ciere ; 
 donee tandem, harum react ione, ipsse quasi suffo- 
 centur, partesque adeo externse Sensui & Motui 
 peragendis ineptas reddantur. 
 
 In his omnibus notatu dignissimum est, quie- 
 tem corporis omnimodam illi c-alefaciendo quam 
 maxime conducere; atque e contrario, vel levissi- 
 mos motus, subinde recurrentes, corpus ventilare & 
 refrigerare. 
 
 Sexto $ Chylificatio, sanguiftcatio, nutritio & in- 
 erementum, optime perficiuntur durante Somno * y 
 uti conjicere licet ex somnolen-tia omnium Anima* 
 Hum post pastum temporaria, & InJantium perpe- 
 tua. Aucta enim tune temporis respiratio, augen- 
 do impressiones alimenti ir> ventriculum & intes- 
 tina, resuscitat Vibrationes ibi languescentes : Vi- 
 gilant itaque organ a digestioivis & respirationis, 
 suisque functionibus, L e. chylificationi & sanguifi- 
 eationi, incumbunt, dum reliqoa feriantur. Augert 
 autem videtur respiratio, partim ob cessationem 
 Vibrationum in reliquis musculis, & in sensibus 
 externis, partirn ob auctam sangtriiiis calorem, &, 
 partim ob auctas impressiones alimenti in ventricu- 
 lum & intestina, actione scilicet reflexa. Porrc 
 cum cerebrum, medulla spinalis & nervi, Vibratio- 
 nibus fere vacent durante somno, liquet ea tune 
 impleri debere fluidis suis, adeoque nutritionem & 
 incrementum siinui optime perfici, tarn ob hanc 
 
( 16 ) 
 
 causam, quam ob chylificationem & sanguificatio- 
 nem promotas. 
 
 COR. Ex antedictis fortasse colligere licet, sub- 
 stantiam medullarem, instante Somno, non raro 
 approquinquare solere ad statum inflammalioni sub- 
 tilissirmu proximum ; hunc vero statum prohiberi, 
 et substantiam medullarem pristine SUIE integritati, 
 & caloris gradui restitui, a Somno ad tempus ido- 
 neum protracto. Quas quidem observatio non in- 
 commoda videtur, ad explicanda Symptomata qua3- 
 dam in Febrium insultibus, Phrenitide, Comate 
 vigili, Mania, aliisque quibusdam morbis occurren 
 tia. Sed heec non sunt hujus loci. 
 
 PROP. 8. 
 
 Sensationes qiKcvis, s&pius repetittf linquunt 
 post se qu&dam sui Vestigia, Typos, aut Imagines j 
 qute Ideae 'sensationis simplices vocari solent. 
 
 HJB Idea3 manifestissimas sunt in oculo & aure, 
 obscuriores in sensibus reliquis; pari ratione, ac 
 brevis commoratio sensationum in PROP. 3 tia me- 
 morata. Verum hie etiam concludere debemus de 
 sensibus reliquis ex Analogia oculi & auris. 
 
 PROP. 9. 
 
 Vibrationes sensori<z> stepius repetittf, genera- 
 bunt in cerebro propensiojiem ad Vibratiunculas, 
 respondentes sibi ipsis respective. 
 
 Per Vibratiunculas vibrationibus respondentes 
 intelligo debiles Vibrationes, validioribus, ab object- 
 orum actione excitatis, specie & loco similes. 
 
 Evincitur haec propositio ex prsecedente. 
 Cum enim Sensationes linquant Ideas, fieri non po- 
 test, quin Vibrationes illis respondentes, generent 
 Vibratiunculas, quae his pariter respondeant. Est 
 etiam manifestum, diversas cerebri regiones prceci- 
 pue affici debere ab his Vibratiunculis, prout ob-r 
 jecta impressa fuerint in hunc, vel illijin isensum 
 
( 17 ) 
 
 externum ; adeoque Vibratitincutas etiam loco res- 
 ponsnras esse Vibrationibus generantibus. Sic 
 Vibratium ula>, generate ab impression^ visibilium 
 satis repetita, sedem snam praecipuam habebunt in 
 thaiatuis nervorum opticorum, si modo nervi optici 
 revera ducant originem suam ab his thalamis. 
 
 Verum operas pretium erit bane rem altius re- 
 petere, cum sit maximi moment! ad Doctrinas Vi- 
 brationurn & Associations elucidandas, . & stabrli- 
 endas, Videamus itaque, annon haec Propositio 
 etiam dednci possit, ex ipsa Vibrationum, & Corpo- 
 ris Animati, n at lira. 
 
 Vibrationes aiiquas extitisse in substantia me- 
 dullari, dum -Fostus in utero manebat, necesse est, 
 turn propter caloreni hujus substantial, turn prop- 
 ter pulsum artenarum ibi dissetninatarum. Has 
 Vibrationes naturales indigitare liceat. Infante ia 
 lucem edito, statim imprimuntur objecta externa^ 
 substantiam medullarem exagitantia Vibrationibus, 
 ut ita dicam, ^r^ttrnaturalibus ; qua3 nimirum dis- 
 crepant a naturaiibus, & vi, & frequentia, simulque 
 singularem a'iquam regionem cerebri afficiunt : z. e* 
 qua:) discrepant a naturaiibus, gradu, specie, & loco. 
 Vocentur Vibrationes naturales N, prasternaturales 
 a primo objecto A, a sccundo B> a tertio C, & sic 
 deinceps. Imprimatur jam objectum primum pri- 
 ma vice, & dein amoveatur : Patet ex natnra Vi- 
 brationum, cerebrum non statim rediturum ad sta- 
 turn A r , sed peraiansurum aliquamdiu in statu //, 
 decrescenle licet. Imprimatur idem objectum ite- 
 rum iterumque ; et tandem fiet, ut cerebrum non 
 ornnino redilurum sit ad statum N, sed permansu- 
 rum in statu A, Vibrationibus licet imminutis, i. e. 
 ad Vibratiuncuias redactis ; quas igitur per a de- 
 notare convemet. Hoc autem fiet, eo quod parti- 
 cularurn miuimarum situs & actiones mutuas acco- 
 modabuntur statui A> vel a, ab hoc ipso statu: ut 
 Vol. 2.] c 
 
( 18 ) 
 
 fit in chordis musicis tensis ; hse quippe, sive ten- 
 dantur ultra, sive laxentur, ad tonum priorem sem- 
 per vergunt. Interim hujusmodi propensiones 
 longe potion jure ascribendas videntur Corporibus 
 Animatis, & staturam nondum adeptis, quam aliis. 
 Imo constat ex observationibus qnam plurimis, hu- 
 jusmodi propensiones a consuetudine generari in 
 Corporibus Animatis, quicquid de earum causa, & 
 generationis modo, statuatur. Jam itaque status a 
 est quasi naturalis, & sustentabitur a calore substan- 
 tias medullaris, & pulsu arteriarum ejus. Quod si 
 et status A y & status By impressi fuissent vicibus 
 alternis, patet cerebrum pariter propensurum fore 
 et ad a, & ad b; adeoque vel a vel b in eo 
 obtinere debere, prout A vel B novissime impressus 
 fuerit. Et simili ratione cerebrum propendere po- 
 test in plures Vibratiunculas a, b, c, &c. adeo ut 
 harum qusevis in eo obtineat propter novitatem im- 
 pressionis, aliasve quasiibet causas ; inter quas As- 
 sociatio recenseri potest, uti mox docebitur. Vi- 
 brationes igitur A, B, C, &c. generare possunt pro- 
 pensionem in Vibratiunculas respondentes a, 6, c, 
 &c. uti affirmatum est in propositione. 
 
 Idem forsan ostendi potest ratione breviore, & 
 paulo diversa. Fieri nequit quin impressiones va- 
 rite, saspe repetitas, prorsus obruant Vibrationes na- 
 turales. Interea cum nee calor substantive medul- 
 laris, nee pulsus arteriarum ejus, patiantur, ut Vibra- 
 tionibus omnino destituatur, necesse est Vibratmn* 
 culas, respondentes impressionibus externis, tan- 
 quani causis generantibus, in ea semper existere. 
 Erunt autem has Vibratiunculas admodum complexa3 
 propter combinationes varietatum gradus, speciei & 
 loci. Durante impressioue qua vis, 6c per breve in- 
 tervallum postea, obscurabimtui delates quoicunque 
 Vibrationes, /. e. Vibn-tiiuici.!^, . Vihiationibus 
 huic impressioni propnis. iiis cesstiiiiibus, pars 
 alia, atque deinceps alia, cornplexai urn Vibratiun- 
 
( 19 ) 
 
 cularum, inter easterns maxime eminere potest, 
 Jdeamque sibi respondentem Animse exhibere; ea- 
 dem fere ratione, ac cum diversa instrumenta musi- 
 ca pulsantur, mine hoc, nunc illud, Auditorem 
 maxime percellit. Desideratur tantum levis aliqua 
 causa, quae faciat ut substantia medullaris ad has 
 partes Vibratiuncularum complexarum vergat suc- 
 cessive. Associationem autem talis causas officio 
 defungi posse, monstrare conabor in duabus propo- 
 sitionibus proximis. Sed & variatag conditiones so- 
 lidorum & fluidorum bene multas, ex ipsa Corporis 
 Animati natura successive provenierites, idem prass- 
 tare posse videntur. 
 
 Si concedatur, hanc propositionem evinci posse 
 ex natura Vibrationum & Corporis Animati, pro- 
 positio prascedens inde derivari queat; pertinebitque 
 non minus ad tactum, gustum, & olfactum, quam ad 
 visum, & auditum. 
 
 PROP. 10. 
 
 Sensationes quxvis A, B, C, S(c. sibi mutuo as- 
 sociate vicibus satis repetilis, ejusmodi imperium 
 obtinent in Ideas respondentes a, b, c, $c. ut Sensa~ 
 tionum unaqutcque A, seorsum impressa, reliquarum 
 Ideas, b, c, Kc. hi Anima excitare valeat. 
 
 Sensationes dicuntur associari sibi mutuo, 
 qtiando earum impressio est vel synchronies, vel 
 etiam successiva brevissimo intervallo. 
 
 Constat propositio ex observationibus frequen* 
 tissimis, & maxime pervulgatis. Verum notandum 
 est, vim Associationis non obtinere in impressioni- 
 bus successivis secundum ordinem retrogradum. 
 Si utique A, B, C, sint impressiones saepe associatse 
 secundum ordinem Alphabet! ; B, seorsum impressa, 
 non excitabit a, sed tantum c. Est etiam notan- 
 dum in Associationibus utrisque, impressiones justo 
 plures non esse debere. 
 
( 20 ) 
 PROP. 11. 
 
 Vibrationes quavis A, B, C, Xc. sibi rnuluo as- 
 sociatx rfcjhus satis repehtis, cjnsmodi imperium 
 obthirnt. in Vibraiiunculus respondentes, a, b, c, tfc 
 11 f J'ihratioiuin unaqiitcque A, scorsum excitata, Vi~ 
 bratiunculas relufuis rrspondentts b, c, Csfc. excitare 
 valeat. 
 
 Ha?c propositio respondet precedent!, eodem 
 moclo quo 4 ta - & 9 n S 3 tia ' & 8 vffl - respective; adeo- 
 que ex ea pariter deduci queat. 
 
 Verum sequi etiam videtur ex natura Vibrati- 
 on um & Corpons Aniniati. Sint A & B duae Vi- 
 braliones synchronice associate. Liqnet itaqtie 
 Vibrationem A (loqui enim liceat de A & B tan- 
 quam de Monadibus) sese ditfundendo in paries 
 cerebri, nbi Vibratio B sedem suam pra'cipuam ha- 
 bet, debere modificare, & aliquo modo mutare Vi- 
 brationem ft; & versa vice, B modificabit & muta- 
 bit A. Fiat hoc millies, & turn demuin excitetur 
 Vibratio //seorsum. Jam vero paulum diversa erit 
 a Vibratione, quam idem objectum excitasset, si 
 praggressa fuisset impressio ejus solitaria, millies 
 repetita; vergetque ad modificationes a B inductas; 
 id adeo propter propensionem Corpons Animati in 
 statum quemvis saepius recurrentem, de qua supra. 
 Multo itaque magis Vibratio A> sic modilicata, cum 
 venerit ad sedem ipsius B y verget ad ft, i. e. exci- 
 tabit b. Et pari ratione By seorsum excitata, ex- 
 citabit a. 
 
 Quod si A & B sint Vibrationes successive, 
 manifestum est posteriorem partem, sive statum de- 
 crescentem, ipsius A y modificari & mutari debere a 
 By & tandem in B desinere. Simili igitur ratiocinio 
 colligere licet, Vibrationem A, post associationes 
 satis repetitas, habituram esse vim excitandi b. 
 Verum B non excitabit a y cum ejus status decres- 
 cens non desinit in A> sed in aliam aliquam Vibra- 
 tionem, C puta, vei U. 
 
( 21 ) 
 
 Inferri quoque potest hsec propositlo a 
 Cum enim Vibrationes A & B excitentur simul, 
 coalescent in unam quasi Vibrationem, atque base 
 Vibratio generabit Vibratiunculam per prop. 9 nam - ; 
 qnae, pari ratione atque ipsa Vibratio generans, pro 
 Monade haberi debet. Recurret etiam identidem 
 pereandem propositionem ex causis levibus. Mul- 
 to itaqne magis recurrere potest pars ejus />, quando 
 ipsius Vibrationis generantis pars A excitatur. 
 
 I mo dici potest, nee quidem reticeri debet, 
 facultatem Associationis omninoegere facilitate ge- 
 nerandi Ideas & Vibratiunculas, atque earn, tan- 
 quam prasvium Postulatum, supponere. Etenim 
 nee Idea?, nee Vibratiunculsc, ab associatione exci- 
 tari possunt, nisi prius generentur. Et vicissim 
 facultas generandi Ideas & Vibratiunculas, omnino 
 eget facultate Associationis. Qui enim fieret, ut 
 Sensationes generarent Ideas, vel Vibrationes Vi- 
 bratiunculas, nisi Sensation urn 8c Vibrationum par- 
 tes y respectu loci Sc temporis infinite divisibiles, co- 
 ba3rerent inter se ob simultaneam impressionem, L e. 
 Associationem ? Opus est porro Associatione, tan- 
 quam causa, quae faciat ut cerebrum hue illuc pro- 
 pendeat successive, i. e. ut Vibratiunculam m valde 
 complexarum, in prop. 9 na> memoratarum, pars alia, 
 atque deinceps alia, inter cameras maxime ernineat. 
 Neque limes aliquis certus figi queat, intra quern 
 sistatur base mutua implicatio. Verum si detur vel 
 minimum punctum stabile in harum facultatem 
 utravis, non incredibile videtur totum, quantumcun- 
 que fuerit, Systema Idearum & Associationum illi, 
 tanquam fundamento, inaedificari posse. Interea, 
 haec mutua implicatio, cum non sit Doctrinis Vi- 
 brationum & Associationis propria, sed ubique oc- 
 curat, uti supra innui, censenda est illis fidein ad- 
 dere potius, quam detrabere. Admodum subtilia 
 sunt base & obscura, neque tamen ipse meliora ha- 
 
( 22 ) 
 
 beo, <quB proferam. Proferentur autem posthac ab 
 harum rerum studiosis, ni multum fallor. 
 
 PROP. 12. 
 
 Idetf simplices coibunt in complexas per Associ- 
 ationem. 
 
 Patet tarn ex prascedentibus, quam ex obser- 
 vationibus innumeris. Illustratur autem exemplo 
 Hterarum, quae coeunt in syllabas & voces, & coeun- 
 do uniuntur quasi inter se. 
 
 Cor. 1. Si magnus fuerit numerus Idearum 
 simplicium componentium, fieri potest ut Idea com- 
 plexa millam cum his Ideis, vel sensibus externis 
 respondentibus affinitatem pra3 se ferat; eodem 
 plane modo, ac Pharmacum valde compositum non 
 redolet quod vis e suis Ingredientibus simplicibus; 
 aut colores primarii, in luce Solari, objectove albo, 
 sibi invicem commixti, seorsum discerni non possunt. 
 
 Cor. 2. Hinc quasi per nebulam conspici queat, 
 qua ratione tota supellex Idearum complexarum, 
 quas excitantur a vocibus diversarum linguarum, 
 objectis visibilibus, &c, in quotidianis vita3 negotiis, 
 & sese continua serie excipiunt, secunduni objecto- 
 rum actiones, & Idearum Associations, simul 
 sumptas, resolvi tandem aliquando possit in partes 
 suas simplices componentes. 
 
 Cor. 3. Idese complexa3 coibunt in decomplex- 
 as, ut ita dicam, pari ritu ac voces coeunt in Sen- 
 tentias. Sed nexus erit laxior plerumque inter 
 Idea complexas, decomplexam quamvis componen- 
 tes, quam inter partes simplices Idearum compJexa- 
 rum ; prorsus ut in exemplo adducto, sententiarum, 
 voces sibi invicem minus arete coherent, quam vo- 
 cum ipsarum syllabae, vel literas. 
 
 Cor. 4. Assensus & dissensus sunt nil nisi Idese 
 decomplexae, a propositionibus excitatce. 
 
( 23 ) 
 
 PROP. 13. 
 
 Vibratuinculte simplices, gradu, specie, & loco 
 rcspondentes Ideis simplicibus, complexam quamms 
 componenfibtis, comitabuntur hanc Idcam complex- 
 am, 8f coibunt in Vibratiunculam unam pariter 
 complexam. 
 
 Haec propositio analoga est 4 tae - 9 noe - & ll ma2 * 
 
 PROP. 14. 
 
 Fieri potest, ut nonnulltf ex his Vibratiuncidis 
 idealibus compositis, aqiie validtf sint, ac Vilrati- 
 ones sensoritf, ab ipsa objectorum actione excitatg. 
 
 Numerus enim & actio mutua partium com- 
 ponentium, potest compensare defect um virium in 
 singulis, & Vibratiunculas ad Vibrationes evehere. 
 
 Cor. 1. Ex hoc fonte peti debet origo Volup- 
 tatum & Dolorum intellectualium. Namque hi ni- 
 hil aliud stint, nisi Ideae complexes & decomplexas, 
 prceter solitum vividse. 
 
 Cor. 2. Manifestum est Voluptates & Dolores 
 intellectuales fiere posse majores, asquales, vei mi- 
 nores Voluptatibus & Doloribus sensibiiibus, pro 
 vario scilicet numero & magnitudine Vibratiuncu- 
 larum, vel Idearum, componentium. 
 
 Cor. 3. Sint a, h, c, d, e, &c. Voluptates sen- 
 sibiles ; r, y y z 9 Dolores sensibiles, nirniruin tres 
 tantum numero; & ponatur, Voluptates singulas et 
 sibi mutuo, & Doloribus singulis asquari. Associ- 
 entur jam Voluptates & Dolores inter se secundem 
 omnes varietates possibiles: patebitque, Dolorem 
 superatum iri a Voluptate in combinationibus li- 
 terarum septem vel plurium ; adeoque nil nisi pu- 
 ram Voluptatem intellectualem superfuturam in his 
 combinationibus universis, quam primum singula- 
 rum partes componentes integre coaluerint, Asso- 
 ciationibus satis repetitis. Et par erit conclusio in 
 aliis casibus, si modo quantitas Voluptatis sensibi* 
 
( 24 ) 
 
 lis, ex numero & magnitudine Voiuptatum singu- 
 larium contlata, major sit, quantitate Doloris sen- 
 sibilis, simili ratione in unum collecti. 
 
 Cor. 4. Si Eutia ejusdeni naturae, sed impras- 
 sentiarum dissimilia, subjiciantur iisdem objectis Sc 
 Associationibus per tempus indefmitum, fient tan- 
 dem magis similia, quam pro data quavis discre- 
 pantia. 
 
 Cor. o. Patet Vibratitmculas omnes ideales 
 sedem suam habere in cerebro, vel etiam in pene- 
 tralibus ejus intimis. Est igitur cerebrum quasi 
 Sedes Animse rationales, i. e. Animse ipsius huma- 
 nse, quatenus ratiociniis, & motivis, quod aiunt, 
 moral ibus afficitur. 
 
 PROP. 15. 
 
 Credibile est Motwn muscularem perfici eadem 
 ratione general^ qua Sensatio & Idearum perceptio. 
 
 Hoc enim sequi videtur, turn ex mutuo eorum 
 nexu, (scilicet Motus automatic! cum Sensatione, 
 voluntarii cum Ideis; de quo nexu infra) turn ex 
 uniform i tat e & continuitate Substantije medullaris, 
 qua? est commune inst rumen turn Sensationum, I- 
 dearum & Motuum, secundum Prop. Imam. & ^dam. 
 
 Per Motum automaticum, voio ilium qui fit a 
 mecbanica actione partium corporis; per volunta- 
 rium, ilium qui fit ab imperio voluntatis, vel Animx 
 rationalis 
 
 Cor. 1. Si itaque ostendi possit Sensationem 
 peragi ope vibrationum, peragetur etiam Motus 
 muscularis eodem artificio; & versa vice. 
 
 Cor. 2. Experimenta, quibus ostenditur Mo- 
 tum muscularem languescentem renovari posse a 
 calore, iinpulsu & puncturis; contractiones item et 
 dilatationes alternae cordum Ranarum, Viperarum, 
 &C. corporibus exemptorum, innuere videntur, Mo- 
 tum muscularem pendere ab agitationibus subtilibus 
 
in particulis minimis fibrarum musculariuin, i. e. a 
 Vibrationibus. Acccdit igitur nonnihil lucis & 
 ponderis Vibrationibus sensoriis, supra expositis, ex 
 his Phcenomenis. Ratio eorum aliquo xnodo enar- 
 rabitur infra. 
 
 Cor. 3. Vix concipi potest quaeyis motus spe- 
 cies, vibratoria excepta, qua? propagari possit illi- 
 bata, per mollissimam substantive medullaris pul- 
 pam, ab organis sensoriis usque ad motoria ; sicut 
 iit in Motibus turn automaticis, turn voluntariis. 
 Unde sequitur & Sensum & Motum peragi deberq 
 ope vibrationum. 
 
 PROP. 16. 
 
 Phenomena, musculorum contractorum satis 
 quadrare vide n fur cum Doctrina Vibrationum. 
 
 Ponatur Vibrationes descendere per nervos, 
 tanquam per totidem vias regias, versus fibras mus- 
 culares; eadem fere ratione, ac soni decurrunt, vix 
 imminuti, per sperficiem aquae quiescentis* vel 
 virtus electrica per funiculos cannabinos. Agitent 
 porro hae Vibrationes particulas minimas fibrarum 
 muscularium ; atque vim attractivam, fortasse ge- 
 neris electrici, latentem in iis, praecipue vero in 
 globulis sanguineis, secundum Observatum CL Ha- 
 lesi?\ in actum deducant. Hinc fiet, ut unaqueeque 
 fibra, atque adeo totus musculus, brevior reddatur, 
 magnitudine interim non multum imminuta. Ne- 
 que repugnare videtur base Hypothesis suspicion}, 
 admodum probabili, a CL Pembertono motag, de 
 contractionibus musculorum a causa cohaesiones 
 corporum aucta deducendis. 
 
 Fieri etiam potest fortasse, ut fibrillfle minims 
 inflectantur hinc inde, anguillee ritu, flexuris mini- 
 mis, sicut suspicatur Lowerus, & ut contractio pe- 
 ragatur has ilexuras augendo, relaxatio eas minu- 
 endo. Annon rugaa a Lceuwenhoekio, aliisque, 
 Vol. 2. D 
 
( 26 ) 
 
 in fibris muscularibus, itemque rhomboidales pinnu- 
 Irc ab Halesio in musculis abdominalibus Ranre 
 viventis contractis, huic position! favent ? 
 
 PROP. 17. 
 
 Propensio, qu<e observatur in musculis fere om- 
 nibus, ad contractions & rdaxationes alternas, de- 
 duci potest a Doclrina Vibrationum. 
 
 Contractis enim fibris muscularibus, cohibean- 
 tur oportet Vibrationes partium minimarum a du- 
 ritie inducta; minuetur ergo causa attractionis 
 auctae, atque adeo ipsius contractionis. E con- 
 trario relaxatis fibris, Vibrationes per nervos des- 
 cendentes, in has libere propagabuntur; redibit ita- 
 que causa attractionis auctse, atque adeo ipsius con- 
 tractionis. Elongatio porro, i. e. extensio, fibrarum 
 relaxatarum, nee non descensus Vibrationum in 
 Antagonistam contractum impeditus, nonnihil con- 
 ferre possunt ad Vibrationes in musculo relaxato 
 augendas; saltern in motibus membrorum, & actio- 
 ne Respirationis, ubi musculi sibi invicem Antago- 
 nistic sunt. 
 
 PROP. 18. 
 
 Vibrationes sensorte, supra expositte, supped** 
 tare possunt Vibrationum motoriarum copiam suffi- 
 cientem ad contrahendos musculos. 
 
 Origines Vibrationum motoriarum ad quinque 
 classes redigi possunt. 
 
 Primo utique concipi potest, Vibrationes in 
 Sensibus excitatas ascendere per nervos sensorios, 
 donee perveniant ad truncum his nervis cum nervis 
 motoriis communem ; aut ad piexum nerveum, vel 
 ganglion, e quo nervi motorii oriuntur. Hoc per- 
 acto, pars Vibrationum descendet per nervos moto- 
 rios, motum in musculis vicinis excitatura; atque 
 idem fiet iterum iterumque, per totum decursum 
 nervi ad cerebrum. 
 
Secundo ; Pars residua qua? pervenit ad cere- 
 brum, sese diflfundet undique, adeoque dimittet 
 quasdam Vibrationes debil lores, versus totum Sys- 
 tema musculorum. 
 
 Tertio; Calor saguinis, & pulsus arteriarum, 
 semper cient quasdam Vibrationes, in cerebro, quae 
 itidem semper decurrunt versus totum Systema 
 musculorum. 
 
 Quarto ; Vibrationes, in membranis uniformi- 
 bus excitatae, propagantur undique per harum su- 
 pcrficiem, & non parum conferre videntur ad Motus 
 in musculis vicinis generandos. His in casibus, 
 verisimile est Vibrationes perpetuo augeri, donee 
 tandem pares evadant fibris membranse affectae va- 
 lide contrahendis. His contractis, cessant illico 
 Vibrationes in particulis earum minimis. Augetur 
 itaque Vibrationum propagatio in musculos vici- 
 nos, turn ob hanc causam, turn fortasse propter ex- 
 tensas quasdam fibras nerveas, durante membranse 
 contractione ; atque ita paulo post, se fortiter con- 
 trahunt musculi vicini. Exemplum habetur in 
 Sternutatione. 
 
 Quinto ; Si Vibrationes cessent, vel admodum 
 langueant, ob quamvis aliam causam, a jam me- 
 morata diversam, in notabili aliqua corporis parte, 
 probabile est, caeteris manentibus, eas in reliquis 
 auctum iri. Patet, ut videtur, in dormiturientibus, 
 epilepticis, & moribundis. 
 
 PROP. 19. 
 
 Motus automatici non incommode explicari 
 posse videntur, ope trium propositionum proxime 
 pracedentium. 
 
 Res est admodum obscura & implexa, praeser- 
 tim in casibus quibusdam. Proponam pauca, quse 
 speciem veri praa se ferunt. 
 
 Motus cordis deducendus est a 2 a & 3a. classe 
 Vibrationum motoriarum, cum causis propensionis 
 
( 28 ) 
 
 musculonim in contractiones alternas collatis. 
 Multum etiam tribuendum est influxui turn san- 
 guinis'venosi in ventriculos corclis, turn arteriosi in 
 arterias coron arias. 
 
 Annon eonjicere licet ex Hookiano experimento 
 (in quo nimirum vita can is sustentata fuit a jugi 
 fluxu aeris per pulmones sine alterno motu respira- 
 tionis) usum prascipuum Aeris, qui est inter corpo- 
 ra electrica per se, esse, ut restitnat sanguini per 
 pulmones fluenti vim electricam, deperditam circu- 
 lando per corpus : atque hanc restitution-em neces- 
 sariam esse ad motum cordis sustentandum in Ani- 
 rnalibus perfectioribus ? 
 
 Corda Ranarum, Viperarum, c. censenda 
 sunt donari durabiliori vi attract! va (sive sit elec- 
 trici generis, sive alius cujuspiam) quam cor hu- 
 inanum 5 irritari etiam posse a calore minori. 
 
 Respi ratio et vagitus in recens natis cientur a 
 frigore impresso, contrectationibus Obstetricis, ali- 
 isque vividis Sensationibus, statim a partu excita- 
 tis. Si enim musculi omnes, ad truncum corporis 
 pertinentes; simul agant, consequetur irregularis 
 quaedam respiratio, cum vagitu, ex eorum Anta- 
 gonismo inter se. Respiratio postea sustentatur, 
 partim a propensione ad motus alternos in Prop. 
 17 ma - exposita; partim autem, ut videtur, a vibra- 
 tionibus in pleura & peritonaeo excitatis, ac dein 
 communicatis diaphragmati, musculisque thoracis 
 & abdominis. Sic respirations cessante ob cursum, 
 nixumve quemlibet validiorem, augentur vibratio- 
 nes m extima pulmonum membrana, i. e. in pleura, 
 turn ab aucto Sanguinis calore, turn ab ejus ac- 
 cumulatione in pulmonibus; et auctae, propagan- 
 tur in diaphragina & musculos intercostales. 
 
 Motus peristalticus intestinorum, cum sit reci^ 
 procus & perpetuus, sine musculorum Antagonis- 
 mo, simili fere ratione explicandus est, ac Motus 
 cordis. Verum impressiones, in tunicam villosam 
 
( -29 ) 
 
 factse ab alimentis, bile & frecibus, magnam quoq ; 
 vim liabent ; Vibrationes porro ab his excitatae de- 
 currunt per superficiem tunicas villbsas internam, 
 tarn sursum, quam deorsum. Fibrae intestinorum 
 pallida3 retinent facultatem scse contrahendi & lax- 
 andi, per aliquod tempus post mortem ; fortasse 
 ob easdem causas, quascunque demum sint, ac mus- 
 culi Animalium quorundam frigidorum, prorsus, 
 vel fere, exsanguium. 
 
 Sternutatio, Deglutitio, Tussis, Singultus, Vo- 
 mitus, Expulsio fecum intestinalium & urinre, cum 
 aliis quibusdam Motibus ejusdem generis, derivari 
 possunt a l ma - & 4 ta - classe Vibrationum motoria- 
 rum. Multum favet Hypothesi hie expositse, om- 
 nes hujusmodi motus cieri in vicinia Sensationum 
 vividarum, iis auctis augeri, -imminutis imminui. 
 Sequi videtnr ex ea, Deglutitionem peragi debere 
 methodo a Cl. Albino descripta. Porro in expen- 
 denda Sternutatione, Deglutitione & Tussi, ratio 
 est habenda extremitatum nasi, uvula?, & epiglotti- 
 dis, tan quam parti urn acuminatarum. 
 
 Membrorum Flexiones & Extensiones lenes se 
 invicem excipere debent, in Infantibus recens natis, 
 serie successiva, & quodammodo regulari, uti fit, ob 
 classem 2 dam , & 3 am . Validi autem membrorum 
 Motus excitantur, a frictione cutis, torminibus 
 ventris, aliisque sensationibus vividis; Vibration i- 
 bus utique a l ma , & 4 ta - classe derivatis. 
 
 Sic etiam Oscitatio & Pandiculatio oriri vi- 
 dentur a classe l ma , & 4 ta ; forte etiam a 5^ in 
 casibus nonnullis. Oscitatio autem videtur deberi 
 preecipue contractionibus in membrana oris, fau- 
 cium, aspera3 arteria?, & oesophagi; Pandiculatio, 
 contractionibus in tota simul cute externa. 
 
 Verisimile est Glandularum ductus secretorios 
 & excretorios semper contrahi & laxari alternis vi- 
 cibus, motu quodam peristaltico, a classe 2 da , & 3 a , 
 
nato. Sed agitantur multo magis, in irritationibus 
 membranum vicinarum, a Vibrationibus, quas de- 
 currunt per harum superficies, penetrant ostia 
 ductuum excretoriorum. Quinetiam, et vasa inha- 
 lantia, & exhalantia, functionibus suis apta reddi, 
 ex iisdem causis, non est vero absimile. 
 
 Motus oculorum turn externi, turn interni, vi- 
 dentur satis congruere cum Analysibus jam traditis. 
 De contractione annuli majoris uvcas, & ligamenti 
 ciliaris, omnino consulendus est Cl Jurinus. 
 
 Contractiones musculorum laxantium mem- 
 branam Tympani, oriuntur forsan a validioribus 
 agitationibus aeris in sonis fortioribus. Hi enim 
 musculi videntur magis exponi agitationibus Aeris, 
 quam musculus internus, aut musculus stapedis. 
 
 Est autem animadvertendum, me hie verba 
 facere, de statu mere automatico horum omnium 
 Motuum. De statu voluntario et semivoluntario 
 mox dicetur. 
 
 PROP. 20. 
 
 Quxcunqiie de ortu Vibratiuncularum idealium 
 a Tibrationibus sensoriis, earumque Associatione, 
 supra traduntur, non injuria applicari possunt ad 
 Vibrationes & Vibratlunculas motorias. 
 
 Sequitur statim ex concessis Vibrationum & 
 Associations Doctrinis, quales in praecedentibus 
 sistuntur. 
 
 Cor. 1. Vibrationes igitur motorias genera- 
 bunt Vibratiunculas respondentes sibi ipsius res- 
 pective. 
 
 Cor. 2. Hae Vibratiunculas motorias sedem 
 suam habebunt in cerebro. Propagantur enim in 
 cerebrum, ibique quasi habitant Vibrationes omnes 
 sensoriae, a quibus Vibrationes & Vibratiunculas 
 motoriae derivantur. 
 
 Cor. 3. Vibratiunculae motoriae sibi mutuo 
 
cohasrebunt per Associationes, turn synchronicas, 
 turn successivas ; atque hinc originem clabunt Mo- 
 tibus complexis & decomplexis. 
 
 Cor. 4. Esedam Vibratiunculas motoriae co- 
 hserebunt Vibratiunculis idealibus per Associatonem; 
 adeoque excitabuntur ab his, & excitatae musculis 
 contrahendis pares erunt, quam primum tibiae 
 musculares sat roboris, & sanguinis, virtute activa 
 donati, adeptse fuerint. 
 
 Cor. 5. Si Vibratiuncul'ce ideales adeo auge- 
 antur, secundum propositionem 14 tam , ut sequales 
 evadant Vibrationibus sensoriis, expectari potest, 
 ut Vibratiunculae motoriae similiter augeantur ; at- 
 que idcirco, ut musculi ab iis contrahantur, eadem 
 vi, atque in statu automatico. 
 
 Cor. 6. Vibratiunculse motorise cohasrebunt 
 etiam Vibrationibus sensoriis alienis, quae nimirum 
 in his Vibratiunculis motoriis primitur generandis 
 nullam partem habuere. Unde sequitur, motmn 
 quemvis muscularem excitari posse a Sensationibus, 
 cum quibus nullus illi intercedit nexus naturalis, 3c 
 originalis. 
 
 Cor. 7. Summa conjuncta omnium, quaa de 
 Associatione jam tradita sunt, sic enuntiari potest. 
 Sensatio qusevis A> vel Idea B, vel Motus muscu- 
 laris C, si associetur vicibus satis repetitis cum Sen- 
 satione quavis alia Z), Idea E, vel Motu muscular! 
 F, tandem excitabit Sensationis D, Ideam d, ipsam 
 Ideam E> vel ipsum Motum muscularem F. 
 
 PROP. 21. 
 
 Motus voluntarii & semivoluntarii debentur 
 Associatoniy methodo in propositiojie praecedente en~ 
 arrata. 
 
 Si quis enim diligentius perquirat quibusnam 
 Sensationibus, Ideis & Motibus, Motus quivis in 
 corpore humano associentur, quanta cum frequeri- 
 tia, & an laxiore, an strictiore vinculo, pro varia 
 
scilicet Vibralionum vi, ceruet omnia respomiere 
 Hypothesi prppositse, quantum in re tain diiliciii, 
 novaque, expectari icquum est. Apparcbunt uti- 
 que causx suilicientes, propter quas, alii ex moti- 
 bus automaticis iiant tandem oinnino voluntarii, 
 alii tantuni ex parte, atque alii clemum vix ullam 
 mutationem patiantur, per totum vitas curriculum. 
 Patebit etiani, Motus voluntaries quotidie peractos, 
 rursus in automaticos transmutari debere ; adeoque 
 Motus hujusmodi' bis transire per statum semivo- 
 luntarium. Porro inbiberi possunt & sisti Motus 
 quivis voluntarii, eadem ratione, qua excitari; ni- 
 mirum per Associationem debilium Vibrationum 
 in musculis ipsis, vel validarum in eorum Antago- 
 nistis, cum Ideis requisitis. Denique Associatio- 
 nis vis etiam ad Motus cord is, intestinorum, et 
 musculorum respiration! inservientium, aliquo mo- 
 do pertingere videtur, & nonnihii conferre ad eos 
 sustentandos. Credibile est saltern, Motus cordis 
 & intestinorum irregulares, a causis validis primum 
 ortos, tandem recurrere solere ob causas leviores, 
 eadem fere ratione, ac Motus automatic! fiunt tan- 
 dem voluntarii. Et idem obtinere videtur in pa- 
 roxysmis hystericis & epilepticis. 
 
 Non abs re erit hie apponere exempla quag- 
 dam duplicis transmutationis Motuum animalium, 
 automaticorum scilicet in voluntaries, et volunta- 
 riorum in automaticos. 
 
 Flectuntur digiti in recens natis, ab omni fere 
 impressione in voiam facta. Hinc fit, ut manu 
 comprebendant objecta ei immissa. Actione hac 
 automatica saepius recurrente, contrahuntur digiti, 
 post aliquod tern pus, a causis levibus associatis, as- 
 pectu, puta, rei optatas, & manu comprehendi solitae. 
 Idem dein prestant sonus vocum, hanc actionem 
 denotantium, auribus impressus, aspectus manus 
 i^utricis contractas, Idea hujusmodi, & innumera 
 alia Adjuucta associata, subtiliora quam quis, ia 
 
( 33 ) 
 
 hisce rebus minus curiosus, facile crediderit. Et 
 sic demum actio manu comprehendendi tit perfecte 
 voluntariaj excitari nitnirum potest a minimo nutu 
 voluntatis, ope levissimorum Adjunctorum associa- 
 torum. Peragitur etiam frequentissime, prorsus 
 sine conscientia, vel nutu voluntatis, i. e. automa- 
 ticej nisi qais malit evanescentem nutuin hie sup- 
 ponere; minorem scilicet, quam ut memoria euin 
 assequatur. 
 
 Recens nati sonum non edunt, nisi dolentes, 
 Progressu temporis excitur haec actio a voluptate, 
 & tandem a Sensationibus adiaphoiis, & causis le- 
 vibus associatis. Circa idem tern pus, musculi, lo* 
 quela3 destinati, cientur in actiones complexas* 
 Ex fortuito concursu actionum duplicis hujus ge- 
 neris, formatur subinde sonus articulatus, articula- 
 tove propinquus ; recurritque saspius ex causis jam 
 notatis. Recurrit vero postea, ex irnpressione soni 
 hujus in aurem Infantis facta, tanquam Adjuncto 
 associato; idque sive ab ipso Infante sonus hie 
 edatur, sive a nutrice & astantibus. Atque hinc 
 colligere licet, sonos quosvis articulates, ab Infante 
 fortuito primum editos, saepius ab eo iterari debere, 
 dum inarticulati exolescunt; nimirum, eo quod so- 
 ni inarticulati raro, vel nunquam. Tandem Infans 
 se protinus accinget ad pronuntiandum, ex audita 
 voce aliorum, aspectu rerum familiarium vel cha- 
 racterum, multisque aliis ejusmodi ; & sic porro^ 
 donee loquela sit primo perfecte voluntaria, & 
 deinde redeat, in casibus bene multis, ad statum 
 quasi automaticum. 
 
 Patet vero ex jam tradita actionum manu com- 
 prehendendi, & loquelre, Analysi, qua ratione prima 
 fundamenta facultatis imitratricis, in Infantibus 
 adeo conspicuas, jaciantur. Cum enim Infantes ut 
 plurimum videant actiones, quas peragunt, et sem. 
 per audiaiit sonos, quos edunt, manifestum est as- 
 VoL 2. E 
 
( 34 ) 
 
 pectum actionum, & auditum sonorum, numerandos 
 esse inter praecipua Adjuncta associata, ad agen- 
 dum & pronuntiandum incitantia, uti supra monui ; 
 sive, quod idem est, Infantes imitari debere aliorum 
 gestus vises, & voces auditas. 
 
 Simili methodo explicare licet imperium satis 
 notabile, quod voluntas habet in Deglutitionem, 
 Respirationem, Tussim, & Expulsionem urin^e & 
 faec-urn ; debile vero et obscurum, vel nullum, in 
 Sternutationem, Singultum, Vomitum, Motum 
 cordis, & Motum peristalticum intestinorum. 
 
 Discentes pulsare instruments musica, primo 
 movent digitos actione voluntaria, connectentes in- 
 terea Ideas, imperiaque Animse, hos motus lente 
 excitantia, cum aspectu characterum musicorum. 
 Continuato hoc processu, accedunt indies, propius 
 propiusque ad se invicem, motus digitorum, & im- 
 pressiones characterum, & tandem, Ideis & imperils 
 Animae in infmitum quasi diminutis, coalescunt. 
 Fidicen igitur peritus chordas digitis percurrit citis- 
 sime, & ordine justo, ex mero aspectu characterum 
 musicorum, animo interim alienis cogitationibus 
 intento ; atque proinde characteres musici idem illi 
 praestant officium, ac Sensationes impressas recens 
 natis, in motibus eorum automaticis. Migrant 
 itaque ope Associationis tarn Motus voluntarii in 
 automaticos, quam automatic! in voluntarios. 
 Patetque ex hac propositione & 19 na , simul collatis, 
 Doctrinam Associationis pari ratione inservire Mo- 
 tibus voluntariis, semivoluntariis, 6c automaticis se- 
 cundi generis, explicandis, ac Doctrina Vibratio- 
 num Motibus automaticis origmalibus. Infinita 
 restant quasrenda & discutienda. Tentando pro bet 
 Lector, quid, ad utrumque Probiema resolvendum, 
 valeat Hypothesis hie proposita. Advertat autem, 
 statum mere automatitum vix invemri, nisi in Mo- 
 tibus Infantium recens natorum, ^c iis qui a Do- 
 lore, vel Irritatione vehemente, excitantur. 
 
( 35 ) 
 
 Cor. 1. Cerebrum est quasi Sedes Anima?, 
 quatenus Motibus voluntariis prasidet. 
 
 Cor. 2. Hypothesis hie proposita e directo 
 opponitur Hypothesi Stahlianorum ; secundum 
 quam nimirum, universi Animalium Motus pro 
 voluntariis habendi sunt, in statu suo primo. 
 Conveniunt tamen de cognatione inter Motus vo- 
 luntarios & involuntarios ; ut etiam de transitu 
 (sive potius reditu, secundum hanc Hypothesin) 
 Motuum voluntariorum in involuntarios. Causas 
 equidem finales ubique locum habere in corpore 
 humano, sicut Stahliani asserunt, non est dubitandi 
 Jocus ; utilissimas quoque sunt ad efficientes inda- 
 gandas. Verum pro efficientibus substitui non de- 
 bent; neque harum investigatio a M edicina able- 
 gari; cum in eas solas Medici imperium, qualecun- 
 que sit, exeratur. Quid ? quod causas efficientes 
 sint pariter utiles ad finales eruendas; uti vel ex 
 hac Hypothesi patere queat. 
 
 Cor. 3. luvabit forsan conferre cum hac Hy- 
 pothesi, et Carfesianam, & Leibnitianam, de Moti- 
 bus Animalium, commercioque Animae cum Cor- 
 pore. Earum utraque subtiliter quidem excogitata 
 fuit, ad effugiendas Objectiones, quibus premitur 
 Systema scholasticum influxus physici Corporis in 
 An imam, Animaeque in Corpus; quod idem fieri 
 videtur etiam ab hac Hypothesi. Est vero credi- 
 bile, magnos progressus in his rebus fieri potuisse a 
 tantis Viris, si his temporibus viguissent, & medi- 
 cinas facienda3 animum adjunxissent. 
 
 Cor. 4. Non absonum erit hie apponere New- 
 toni verba de Sensatione, & Motu voluntario, sicut 
 habentur ad finem Principiorum : cum et originem 
 dedere huic Hypothesi, & ab ea fluant tanquam co- 
 rollarium. Asserit utique, " Vi & actionibus spi- 
 c< ritus cujusdam subtilissimi, et Sensationem om- 
 C nem perfici, & membra Animalium ad voluntatem 
 
( 36 ) 
 
 " mover! ; Vibrationibus scilicet hujus spiritus a per 
 " solida ncrvorum capillamenta, ab externis sen- 
 " suum organis ad cerebrum, & a cerebro in mus- 
 ( culos propagatis." 
 
 Cor. 5. Generari oportet indies imperium vo- 
 luntarium, & semivoluntarium, in Ideas & afiectus 
 animi. Sequitur ex proposita Analysi Motuum 
 voluntariorum, et semivohmtariorum. Experimur 
 autem quotidie, scilicet in attentione voluntaria, 
 recordatione activa, commotione, vel cohibitione, 
 affectuum semivoluntaria, & excitatione motivorum 
 inoralium omnino voluntaria. 
 
 Cor. 6. Congruentia Doctrinarum Vibratio- 
 num & Associations, & cum se mutuo, & cum tot 
 Corporis & Anima3 Pha^nornenis, pro veritatis ar- 
 gumento validissimo haberi debet. 
 
 PROP. 22. 
 
 Sequitur' ex Hypothesi proposita, facultatem 
 Voluptatis consequendtf) 8T Doloris amovendi gene- 
 rari debere in Infantibus recens natis y ST dein indies 
 increscere. 
 
 Motus enim qui Voluptatis consecutioni, & 
 Doloris amotioni prsecedunt & famiilantur, multo, 
 frequentiores erunt a primo partu, quam qui Dolo- 
 rem inferunt: crescetque illorum numerus indies, 
 dum hi inhibentur. Hoc autem ostendi potest ar- 
 gumentis sequentibus. 
 
 Primo 5 Voluptates sunt multo numerosiores, 
 quam Dolores. Erunt igitur motus illis famulantes 
 perinde numerosiores. 
 
 Secundo ; Voluptatum Adjuncta associata sunt 
 longe plura, quam ipsse Voluptates; haec autem 
 Adjuncta eosdem motus ciere valebunt, post Asso- 
 ciationes satis repetitas. Unde admodum augebitur 
 numerus Motuum Voluptati ministrantium. 
 
 Tertioj Fa vet insuper huic positioni, quod 
 
( 37 ) 
 
 motus Voluptati ministrantes sint modici; adeoque 
 a causis turn automaticis, turn voluntariis, cieri pos- 
 sunt faciliori negotio. 
 
 Quarto; E contrario Dolores, & proinde Mo- 
 tus annexi, sunt rari & vehementes. Quinetiam 
 hi Motus sunt varii ; atque idcirco stabili Associa- 
 tione objectis & Ideis uniri nequeunt ; &, quod pra3- 
 cipuum est, desinunt tandem, ex ipsa fabrica cor- 
 poris, in illam Motus speciem, quoe Dolori amoven- 
 do, aut leniendo, maxime conducit. Hasc itaque 
 species, cum recurrat frequentius caeteris, &; diutius 
 permaneat, ulteriusconfirmabitur a vi Associationis. 
 
 Cor. 1. Propensiones bene mvltse Infantium, 
 satis difficiles explicatu secundum Hypotheses re- 
 ceptas, ex his fontibus deduci possunt. Sunt ta- 
 rnen nonnullre, quse praecociores esse videntur, 
 quam ut hue referantur. 
 
 Cor. 2. Quin et propensiones valde complexas 
 Adultorum, quibus sibi ipsis consulunt, modo turn 
 explicito, turn implicito, ex iisdem, vel saltern ejus- 
 modi principiis, solvi posse videntur. 
 
 Cor. 3. Ex causis porro similibus nascetur 
 propensio ilia ad Ideas, & affectus animi, gratos ex- 
 citandos, & fovendos, quse frequent issime observa- 
 tur. Recurrent interea ingrati ob alias causas per- 
 multas: inter quas substantia meduliaris, morbosa 
 indole laborans, non infimum locum obtinere vi- 
 detur. 
 
 Cor. 4. Cum Deus sit fons omnis boni, sequi 
 videtur, etiam ex hac propositione, Ideam Dei, mo- 
 dorumque, quibus infinita ejus bonitas & perfectio 
 manifestantur, tandem absorpturam omnes alias 
 Ideas, Ipsumque adeo futurum omnia in omnibus. 
 
 Cor. 5. Sistuntur in hac propositione, & corol- 
 lariis ejus, nova uti credo, certe generalissima, ex^- 
 empla coincidentise causarum efficientium cum fina- 
 libus. 
 
( 38 ) 
 
 SCHOLIUM GENERALE. 
 
 Usus Doctr'mae Vibrationum late patere vide* 
 tur in re medica. Namque sine ea, modo vera sit, 
 omnino manca & imperlecta erunt, qua3 de cerebri 
 & nervorum muniis traduntur. Cerebrum vero, & 
 nervi, sunt purtes non minus principales Corporis 
 Animati, quam cor & vasa sanguifera. Nervi enim 
 per totum corpus dispertiuntur, non minus quam 
 vasa sanguifera; &, quod valde mirandum, has par- 
 testum rehquas, turn se invicem, constituere viden- 
 tur : nisi potius censendum sit, ex tare materiam 
 aliquam of iginalem, specifice modificatam, in quavis 
 corporis parte. Nee minus illustrari potest Pat ho- 
 logia cerebri, sive Phenomena morborum capitis, 
 ab hac doctrina, quam cerebri Physiologia. Non- 
 nulla etiam ad Therapeiam hie rite instituendam, 
 ab eadem Doctrina fluere videntur. Et par est ra- 
 tio morborum spasmodicorum : quanta autem sit 
 borum Seges, nuper optime docuit Fr. Hoffmannus. 
 Actio venenorum quorundam, primo in ventriculum 
 & intestina, deinde in totum genus nervosum ; ef- 
 fecius item morsuum & ictuum veneriatorum, & 
 Torpedinis, cum aliis quibusdam bujusmodi, gene- 
 ralem & imperfectam quandam Solutionem admit- 
 tunt a Doctrina Vibrationum: nempe, eo quod has 
 causae inorbifieae Vibrationes violentas, confusas, & 
 a tenore Vibrationum, per qua's Sensus & Motus 
 peraguntur, pro^sus aiienas generent. Rectissime 
 euim monet Cl. Meadus> elFectus venenorum longe 
 potiori jure referri debere ad nervorum systema 
 laesum, quam ad sanguinem. Quin et Doctrina 
 Associationis, praesertim si iu coalescentia Vibra- 
 tiouum fundari supponatur, utilis esse potest ad 
 Metiu um Jucendum, tramite paulo rectiore & ex* 
 peditiore, per Labynnthos morborum, ubi Corpus 
 & Anuna simul laborant, & se mutuo male afFi- 
 eiunt. 
 
( 39 ) 
 
 Phenomena Memorise & Insomniorum magna 
 ex parte deduci possunt a conjunct! s Doctrinis 
 Vibrationum & Associatioriis. Ratiocinatio etiam 
 Brutorum imperfecta cum illis satis quadrat. Nee 
 omnino inutiles videntur, ad enodandum difficilli- 
 mum illud de Brutorum instinctibus Problema. 
 
 Doctrina porro Associationis ad veram Logi- 
 cen conclendam omnino necessaria est. Neque sa- 
 tis erit in hunc fmem, ut quis persequatur Associ- 
 ationes aetate matura factas. Ordiendum est ab 
 ipsis incunabulis. Perquirendum accuratissime 
 quaenam Impressiones & Ideas, /. e. Vibrationes & 
 Vibratiunculse, cum singulis vocibus & sententiis 
 usitato conjungantur; & sic demum recte statuetur 
 de natura Idearum vocibus affixarum, assensusque 
 & dissensus, qui propositionibus adhibentur. His 
 autem physiologice tractatis, novum lumen proti- 
 nus accedet Artibus cogitandi & disserendi. Cor- 
 dati omnes uno ore clamant, augmentum scientia- 
 rum quam maxime impeciiri verborum ambiguita- 
 tibus, & mole obruente; litesque eruditorum fere 
 nniversas esse nil nisi Logomachias inanes. Op- 
 tandum est itaque, ut verborum natura & usu di- 
 ligenter excussis, abjiciantur inutilia, limitentur 
 vaga, scientiaeque ipsae apparatu simpliciore, & ad 
 praxin accommodatiore, instruantur. Egregiam 
 vero hie operam praestabit, ni fallor, Doctrina As- 
 sociationis, qualis a Doctrina Vibrationum nasci 
 supra ostensa est, simulque magnopere conducet. 
 turn ad radices prasjudicatarum opinionum penitus 
 extirpandas, turn ad scientias solid e aedificandas, 
 expediendasque a Scepticorurn implicationibus & 
 argutiis. 
 
 Prascipuus autem Doctrinae Associationis usns 
 censeri debet, quern perhibet Arti Ethicse, mori- 
 busque emendandis. Cum enim hoc filo duett 
 investigare valeamus primas Voluptatum & Dolo- 
 rum intellectualium, atque adeo cupidinum & aver- 
 
( 40 ) 
 
 sationum, imperil denique in lias voluntarii & se 
 mivoluntarii, origines; eadem opera elucescet, qui- 
 bus modis boni animorum inotus fovendi sint, mail 
 coercendi ; et qua ratione unusquisque nostrum et 
 trabem ex sui-ipsius oculo, & festitchm ex oculo 
 Proximi possit educere $ nee non, quod in primis 
 animadversione dignum est, quibus prseceptis & 
 vita3 institutione, tenerae puerorum mentes ad vir- 
 tutem & pietatem optime formari queant. Porro, 
 historiam Voluptatum et Dolorum intellectualium 
 secundurn hanc Doctrinam adornanti patebit, ar- 
 gumento novo, & ex ipsarum rerum penetralibus 
 ducto, se nuliibi posse ab agitatione & inquietu- 
 dine esse securum, nuliibi pedem figere, nisi Deum 
 toto corde diligat, Proximum an tern tanquam semet 
 ipsum; adeoque semet ipsum amore omnino evan- 
 escente. Evanescet enim amor, quem sibi uni de- 
 bet, prx amore aggregato Fratribus suis universis 
 debito, & multo magis prse illo, (juem poscit infi- 
 nita Dei Parentis bonitas & perfectio, cujus amor 
 omnes omnium amores complectitur. 
 
 Quod si ol">jiciatur, verendum esse, ne ex hac 
 Theoria multa argumenta depromantur contra Ani- 
 mae humane immaterialitatem ; ut etiam immor- 
 talitatem : Respondeo, in tota hac disputatione 
 necessario postulari, Sensationes oriri in Anima a 
 motibus in substantia medullari excitatis, tanquam 
 vel causa physica secundum Systema scholasti- 
 cum, vel occasione secundum Carlesium, vel Ad- 
 juncto secundum Leibnitium; nam eodem recidit, 
 quod ad Theoriam prsecedentem, quodcunque ho- 
 rum admittatur. Hunc autem Sensationum cum 
 motibus in Systemate nervoso excitatis nexum jure 
 postulari posse, tanquam rem observationibus & 
 experiment is quam plurimis comprobatam, docent 
 Physiologia & Pathologia. Interim hoc non est a 
 priori demonstrare, vel aliquo modo explicatam 
 are naturam Anima?, sed tantum assumere & sup- 
 
ponere existentiam ejus, commerciumque cum or* 
 ganis corporeis in casu simplicissimo, ut ulterior! 
 indagationi locus detur. Quocirca, jacto hoc fun- 
 damento, statim conatus sum determinare speciem 
 motuum, et determinando lucem afferre gravibus 
 & obscuris quibusdam Problematis de Corpore & 
 Anima, eorumque mutuo commercio, in casibus 
 coinplexis. Sequeretur profecto ex hac Theoria, 
 materiam, si modo Sensatione simplicissima donari 
 posset, etiam evehi posse ad ultimum fastigium hu- 
 mani intellectus : adeoque omnirio censer; da est 
 evertere argumenta ilia, qua? pro Anima? imma- 
 terialitate adducuntur, a subtilitate sensuum inter- 
 norum & facultatis rationalis. Attamen nuilo mo- 
 do definit, an Materia possit Sensatione donari, sed 
 ut rem a se alienam in medio linquit, contenta illo 
 nexu Sensationum Anima3 & motuum cerebri, qui 
 omnibus in confesso est. 
 
 Materialitatem igitur animoc nequaquam tu- 
 eor; imo clare cerno^ lubensque agnosco, etiam 
 subtilissimum ratiocinium, ex Material motibus & 
 modificationibus, nil nisi ejusdem motus & modi- 
 ficationes educere posse. An vero sic satistiat 
 Problemati, adeo ut, immaterialitas Ariimae exinde 
 stabiliatur, dijudicent alii. Itemque, an Perceptio 
 pro Monade necessario sit habenda; atque hoc 
 concesso, annon etiam causa ejus proxima, quae- 
 cunque tandem sit, & Adjunctum quodvis insepa- 
 rabile, itidem pro Monadibus haberi debeant, Ad- 
 dam enim, mihi quidem videri, immaterialitatem 
 Anima3 esse ab ejus im mortali tate prorsus sejunc- 
 tarn. Sufficit Eundem Ilium, qui primo wspiravit 
 halitum mice homini, e pulvere terra formato, Jecit** 
 que y ut esstt Anima vivens, etiam mortuum resus- 
 citare posse; nee i/>inus velle, nam omnes ei vivunt. 
 Omnis porro fiducia, in rerum natura ? seorsum 
 spectata, posita, imped it quo minus nosmet ipsos 
 Vol. 2. F 
 
totos Deo tradamus, & est species quaedam Idolo- 
 latrias. 
 
 Sin vero ad Animse immortalitatem Divinis 
 Attributis & Religioni innixam deveniamus, longe 
 abest> ut base Theoria ei adversetur. Cum enim 
 reconditos aliquot divine sapientiae thesauros ape- 
 riat, novaque exempla omnimodas causarum effi- 
 cientium et finalium coincidentise exhibeat: cum 
 logices porro, atque Ethices fundamenta stabiliat, 
 et pomoeria amplificet (quorum unumquodque a 
 sociata opera Medicorum & Philosophorum, Lockii 
 & Nezvtoni vestigiis insistentium, brevi, si recte 
 auguror, sperare licet) non potest non simul con- 
 ferre ad Religionem, turn Naturalem, turn etiam 
 Revelatam, atque adeo ad Animas immortalitatem, 
 confirmandam. Haac enim omnia cognatione in- 
 tima, et arctissimis vinculis, inter se uniuntur. 
 
 Religionis antem Revelatas, ut de ea praeci- 
 pue dicam, nitorem & firmitatem semper incres- 
 cere, una cum verse sciential incrementis, manifes- 
 tum erit cuivis recolenti, quot et quanta ejus docu- 
 menta a Viris eruditis & piis prolata sint, ex quo 
 instaurari crepit Res Literaria, in region! bus hisce 
 occidentalibus. Neque licebit alicui, ut mibi qui- 
 dem videtur (quicquid vel ipse in animo habeat, 
 vel inde profecturum suspicentur alii) veritatem 
 quamlibet novam eruere, quin simul lucem affun- 
 dat Religioni Christianas, veritatum omnium prin- 
 cipio & fini ^ acceleretque exoptatissimum illud 
 Sasculum futurum, sub quo omnia tandem subjici- 
 enda sunt Ei, qui est Via & Veritas % Vita. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
AIST 
 
 E NQ U IR Y 
 
 INTO THE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HUMAN APPETITES AND AFFECTIONS, 
 
 SHEWING HOW EACH ARISES FROM 
 
 ASSOCIATION, 
 
 WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE ENTRANCE OF 
 MORAL EVIL INTO THE WORLD. 
 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED 
 
 SOME REMARKS ON THE INDEPENDENT 
 SCHEME, 
 
 WHICH DEDUCES ALL OBLIGATION 
 
 ON GOD'S PART AND MAN ? S FROM CERTAIN ABSTRACT 
 RELATIONS, TRUTH, &C. 
 
 WRITTEN FOR THE USE OF 
 THE YOUNG GENTLEMEN AT THE UNIVERSITIES. 
 
 LINCOLN, 
 PRINTED BY W. WOOD, 
 
 And Sold by R. Dodsley, at Tally's Head, in Pall-mall. 
 MDCCXLVII. 
 
TO THE STUDENTS 
 
 IN THE 
 TWO UNIVERSITIES OF CAMBRIDGE AND OXFORD; 
 
 THIS TREATISE ON THE PASSIONS, 
 
 DRAWN UP WITH A VIEW TO ASSIST THEM 
 IN THEIR MORAL ENQUIRIES, 
 
 IS 3 WITH GREAT RESPECT AND AFFECTION, 
 
 BY THEIR OBEDIENT, HUMBLE SERVANT 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
SECTION I. 
 
 A 
 
 XL the writers who have hitherto 
 obliged the world, either with set treatises, or oc- 
 casional essays, upon ethics, have, to a man, taken 
 for granted, that the passions, or to speak more 
 properly, the affections and dispositions of mind, 
 consequent upon, and taking their rise from the 
 passions, or original sensations of the soul, were 
 implanted there by the great Author of our beings. 
 For finding them by experience to be such strong 
 determiners of the will, both in respect of action 
 in general, as of every particular mode of it; and 
 what ail men are subject to, though in different 
 degrees: and knowing no other way to account 
 for their origin, but by supposing them to be the 
 gift of God with our natures, they were obliged to 
 conclude them innate, or born with us. And in 
 all their disquisitions on subjects of this kind, they 
 ever argued upon the supposed truth of such iri- 
 nateness. \Vhich universal agreement among 
 writers of note and eminence in the lettered world, 
 makes it extremely probable that they must have 
 truth on their side ; and to run counter to their 
 opinion, not only denotes great particularity, but 
 would be thought to imply (and very justly) much 
 
( 48 ) 
 
 presumption and self-confidence in an author. 
 Conscious therefore how much a certain opinion 
 has gained credit in the world, it was with some 
 difficulty that I prevailed with myself to lay be- 
 fore the public the following sentiments relating 
 to the origin of the human appetites and affections, 
 which since I am now going to do, I beg I may be 
 thought to do it with alt imaginable deference to 
 so great authorities on the other side of the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 2. The same arguments, which the great Mr. 
 Locke made use of, in order to prove there were 
 no innate ideas, will, methinks, hold full as strong, 
 and conclude with equal force against all implanted 
 appetites whatever. If the mind be like a rasa 
 tabula in respect of the one, the same reasons, 
 which render her such, make it rational to infer 
 that she must be so in respect of the other. For 
 supposing God to have endowed mankind with 
 such faculties and means of acting, as will enable 
 them by a right cultivation of the one, and a pro- 
 per direction of the other, to acquire those affecti- 
 ons and dispositions of mind in a degree suited to 
 their present dependent situation in life, whence 
 the necessity of their being innate? As man is fur- 
 nished with abilities for attaining them, it seems 
 superfluous in the Deity to impress them on the 
 mind, either before or at the time of his uniting it 
 to the body. Because it is one of his distinguish^ 
 ing perfections, never to act but in a manner 
 worthy of himself; nor to interpose, but when oc- 
 casion requires it. Not to mention that it much 
 better suits man's character, as a being capable of 
 directing his powers, both of body and mind, to 
 a certain end, to have himself the credit of forming 
 benevolent appetites, and habits of virtue, than to 
 
( 49 ) 
 
 have the taste and relish for them given him by 
 another. For in our calculations of the merits of 
 actions, it is always to be considered, that so far 
 as any action proceeds from such innate appetite 
 or affection, just so many degrees of merit are to 
 be substracted from the particular sum supposed 
 to accompany that action in its real existence; 
 that which is the effect of the influence of such 
 principler being to be attributed wholly to it, and 
 not to the being who is usually called, and from 
 thence looked upon as, the doer of that particular 
 action. In respect of animals below us, which 
 have neither the understanding to know, nor the 
 judgment to distinguish what makes for their pre- 
 servation and happiness from what does not ; nor 
 to discover the obligations they are laid under by 
 the end of their creation (pointing out to us the 
 will of the Creator, in forming things with such 
 particular tendencies to each other) both to propa- 
 gate their kind, and to provide for the support and 
 continuance of them. By reason of these defects 
 in the animal world in providing for their own pre- 
 servation, it is necessary they should be mechani- 
 cally drawn to it by such or such particular deter- 
 minations of nature, or otherwise by certain im- 
 pulses ab extra considered as the effect of the 
 agency of some superior invisible cause. And a 
 slight observation upon the conduct and oeconomy 
 of the animal part of the creation will sufficiently 
 inform us, that both their tenderness for their off- 
 spring, and the care they take of them, universally 
 holds proportion to the degrees of their dependency 
 on them. A surprising instance (all must confess) 
 of God's consummate wisdom and goodness in his 
 providential care and swernment of the anjmal 
 Vol. 2.] % 
 
world. Instincts therefore (for such those deter- 
 minations of nature, &c. are generally styled) both 
 are and ought to he, the leading, governing prin- 
 ciple in the brute creation. But man has a much 
 nobler, and more excellent faculty (reason) substi* 
 luted in the room of them, by which he is qualified 
 to investigate the great Author of his being 5 to 
 discover his relation to the several parts of the 
 creation, and his proper concern and business in it ; 
 and by making suitable reflections on those (which 
 he cannot avoid making, as they naturally 'arise 
 out of the subject under consideration) he finds it 
 to be the will of his Creator, that he first contri- 
 bute towards his own happiness, and next towards 
 that of others, according to the degree in which 
 they stand related to, and are dependent on, him ; 
 and that he also acquire such habits, and ways of 
 acting, as are necessary for attaining these ends 
 with the greater ease and readiness > which how he 
 does we shall have occasion to shew as we go 
 along. 
 
 3. To prevent all mistakes about the signifi- 
 cation of the term instinct, it is proper to observe, 
 once for all, as a matter of fact generally acknow- 
 ledged, that every one of the human species is bora 
 with an implanted sense, instinct, or determination 
 of nature (if this be more expressive than the other) 
 leading it to seek and pursue such things as are 
 necessary to its preservation, and to refuse and 
 avoid such as are destructive to it. Though per- 
 haps, this sense, instinct, &c. is in truth the real, 
 necessary effect of some sensation felt during its 
 abode in the womb; which, if true, shall not be 
 insisted on here, though the contrary, I presume, 
 can never be shewn. But that such instinct! are 
 not founded on certain sensations in the soul after 
 
( 51 ) 
 
 its first appearance among external objects, seems 
 evident from hence, that sensations of all sorts, and 
 in all degrees of intenseness, (allowing sensation its 
 proper acceptation) always pre-suppose the pre- 
 sence of some object, or objects, producing them : 
 whereas these instincts exist prior to the applica- 
 tion of any set of objects to their respective senses, 
 and therefore prior to the sensations caused by 
 them. A child, for instance, is furnished with 
 a sharp, impulsive instinct that will not suffer its 
 nurse to forget its wants, which, in all cases, it 
 proclaims by tears; a language, as it is rightly 
 adapted to, so is it constantly used in, the tender 
 years of infancy. Such instincts therefore I am so 
 far from denying man to be possessed of at the 
 time of his birth, that on the contrary they are 
 both affirmed and maintained to be of such abso- 
 lute necessity, that without them he could not sur- 
 vive many minutes in the world after his first 
 entrance into it. It is the innateness of moral 
 principles, or the natural determinations of will 
 only, that, it is presumed, ought not to be admitted, 
 or, that the mind should be pleased with some 
 certain forms or kinds of acting, and displeased 
 with others, antecedent to all instruction and infor- 
 mation about them, and separate from all reflection 
 on their necessary or probable tendencies to our 
 happiness or misery, when upon enquiry into their 
 rise and formation, or the particular time when, 
 and the manner in which, they first began to ope- 
 rate, it is apprehended they will appear to be no 
 other than certain associations of ideas, which we 
 either make ourselves, or learn of others. But to 
 return from this digression. 
 
 4. If man, in virtue of his intelligence and 
 free-agency (which on all hands, are allowed to be 
 
< 52 ) 
 
 properties essentially belonging to human nature) 
 be an accountable creature, and is to be happy or 
 miserable, in this world or the next, as he hath 
 acted in a designed conformity with, or opposition 
 to, the will and purposes of his Creator j upon this 
 consideration it seems necessary, that he be laid 
 under no temptation or biass to this conformity or 
 opposition, further than what necessarily arises from 
 the reflections he makes on the natural tendency of 
 virtue and vice, to the happiness or misery of him 
 that pursues the one or the other. Because virtue, 
 as implying desert in the performance (agreeably 
 to the idea all men frame of it) pre- supposes choice 
 in the agent, and is wholly founded upon it, that is, 
 it consists in a voluntary introduction of natural 
 good into human life, and vice in a voluntary in- 
 troduction of natural evil : and therefore so far as 
 man is determined either from within or without to 
 the production of one or other of them, just to that 
 degree is such person not voluntary, but on the 
 same footing with necessary and mechanical causes ; 
 and being ranked under the same class with them, 
 it is not possible he should be any subject of re- 
 wards and punishments, in annexing which to cer- 
 tain actions, the greatest regard is ever to be had 
 to the intention of the agent. Not but it is proper 
 to observe, that, by acting with a view to this end, 
 a propensity to virtue or vice may be acquired, for 
 which propensity, (as it is the effect of habits of 
 his own forming) man shall be strictly accountable, 
 and the actions arising from it will, in such case, 
 have all the merit or demerit with the foundation 
 on which they are raised. 
 
 5. If moral principles, or determinations of 
 will, either to, or from action, were natural and 
 therefore necessary, whence qould arise such a difw 
 
ference and contrariety amongst them in different 
 nations, or in the same nation at different junctures 
 or periods of time? If they bore the marks of na- 
 ture's impression, it is reasonable to think, that 
 those marks would be uniform and consistent ; at 
 all times, and in all places, alike ; and the princi- 
 ples themselves would always have the very same 
 influence upon men's conduct in respect of virtue 
 and vice. But the truth is, we find the case just 
 the reverse. Who ever reads the accounts which 
 historians have given us of the several customs and 
 institutions in use among the nations of whom 
 they write, cannot avoid taking notice (and with 
 some surprise at the strangeness of the phenomenon) 
 that the same actions which raise abhorrence and 
 detestation in one place, are not only countenanced 
 and held innocent, but approved as virtuous in 
 another. What can we think of those nations 
 (and of such nations we read) where the killing of 
 parents when they arrive at a certain age, and the 
 exposition of children without distinction (some- 
 times) either of family or sex, are looked upon as 
 laudable practices, and uniformly carried on with- 
 out the least remorse or compunction whatever? 
 How are we able to reconcile such actions, customs, 
 &c. as those with the supposition of an innate 
 moral discernment? It is but reasonable to ask 
 therefore, for what end God impressed the human 
 soul with such a sense? Was it not to dispose ra- 
 tional sensible beings to the pursuit of virtue, and 
 the avoidance of vice, by being necessarily deter- 
 mined to approve such actions which promote the 
 former, and to disapprove those which introduce 
 the latter? And to discover an amiableness or un- 
 amiableness in things antecedent to all considera- 
 tion of their being the necessary or probable in- 
 
( 54 ) 
 
 struments of happiness or misery to us? And 
 if this was the design of the author of nature in 
 forming mankind with such a sense, whence comes 
 it, I should be glad to know, that in different 
 countries the very same actions shall make differ- 
 ent appearances, or different actions the same ap- 
 pearance in men's minds, I mean with regard to 
 their likings or aversions to them? Supposing it 
 was given for a principle of determination in the 
 choice of some certain actions out of others, 
 equally in man's power, though perhaps not so 
 much in his inclination to perform, would it not 
 be, that the same set of actions, and the like con- 
 duct, which are approved in one country, would be 
 approved in all others, and precisely in the same 
 degree ? And those actions which are disapproved 
 in one nation, would be disapproved in all others, 
 and in the same degree likewise? It must be so, 
 and could not be otherwise. An ingenious author 
 I have somewhere met with, hath a remark much 
 to our present purpose, " I am even apt to think, 
 " says he, that what we call instinct (instinct is 
 <c here taken in the sense abovementioned) is a 
 <c mere ens rationis ; a name without reality ; a 
 " remain of peripatetic philosophy." 
 
 6. Should any be of opinion, that this sense 
 had at first right and well-pointed tendencies, and 
 which continued to be so, till such time, as the 
 sense itself became perverted by national vices, and 
 an unaccountable concurrence of acts in favour of 
 immorality, which, by degrees, took off the mind's 
 relish for every thing that savoured of virtue, or 
 had a kind, benign aspect upon social happiness: 
 in answer to this, it may be asked, if man was at 
 first naturally determined to approve a virtuous 
 conduct abstractedly from all consideration of its 
 
( 55 ) 
 
 consequences, whence came such monstrous devia- 
 tions from virtue, or what gave the first birth and 
 after-growth to those vicious practices in the cre- 
 ation? As they stand directly opposed to the bias 
 of human nature, which is supposed to draw so 
 strongly in favour of virtue, and against vice, they 
 could not at first be brought in without offering 
 violence to, and being condemned by, the moral 
 sense, whose determinations and propensities they 
 are, toto calo, opposite to. It is difficult therefore 
 to make out, how vice should ever have gained so 
 easy an admittance into the world, or have met 
 with such a favourable reception when it had once 
 crept in, if there was so strong an implanted prin- 
 ciple (as is pretended) constantly influencing man- 
 kind by its operations. For it must be acknow- 
 ledged, that the opposition made to all sorts and 
 degrees of vice would ever be in proportion to the 
 strength and efficacy of this principle, and its effi- 
 cacy, one would think, should be according to the 
 purposes intended to be served by it ; because if 
 this sense was intended as an incentive to virtue, 
 and a restraint from vice, according to the best 
 judgment we can form of the will of the Author 
 of it, it must operate so as to attain the end for 
 which it was given ; it being highly irrational to 
 suppose, that infinite wisdom moved by infinite 
 goodness should ever infuse a principle which was 
 sure to be baffled by every contrary mode and 
 fashion of the age men live in. Besides (so far as 
 any such things fall under the cognizance of our 
 senses to discern) what is of the God of nature's 
 impression is not so easily effaced, but being ever 
 cut deep is generally indelible. " Nothing," says 
 a judicious writer, "that is natural, was ever lost; 
 " whatever was capable of loss, or great alteration, 
 
( 56 ) 
 
 *' is artificial; and as it was introduced by instuie- 
 " tion, and continued by culture, so it died on the 
 " ceasing of these, on its parents or fosterers with- 
 " drawing." Further; if this sense be perverted, 
 and its operations, either ceasing, or contrary to 
 what they formerly were, its power and efficacy 
 will be most visible in children, whose minds are 
 yet unattainted with vicious habits, customs, &c. 
 as Mr. Locke justly observes in respect of innate 
 truths. But by careful enquiry into the nature of 
 the mind's furniture, and the various steps she 
 takes in acquiring it, we find, that children are ab- 
 solutely indifferent as to any moral form or species 
 of action, till such times as they become acquainted 
 with the different tendencies which different acti- 
 ons bear to human happiness or misery; and are 
 taught to love and approve one sort of conduct, 
 and to disapprove and dislike the contrary. This 
 is plainly discernable by one who attends to that 
 progress the human mind (if rightly taken care of) 
 is continually making from its infancy, through the 
 several intermediate stages of childhood and youth, 
 up to mature life. Their young and tender minds 
 can take in any sort of impressions, in what ever 
 manner offered and communicated to them, whether 
 from external objects, or by rational agents j and 
 may be fashioned for virtue and vice just as their 
 instructors please. As they advance in years, and 
 their reason begins to exert and put forth itself, 
 they become capable of making just and proper 
 reflections on the consequences of actions; of esti- 
 mating the variety and importance of the effects 
 they are big with to the happiness or misery of 
 human life ; and the different relations which dif- 
 ferent things hold to one another. And in conse- 
 quence of this pliableness of children's minds with 
 
regard to what is proposed to them, do we find 
 such different and contrary approbations of moral 
 characters in the world, and that mankind are so 
 variously affected with the contemplation of them. 
 
 7. If the virtuous principle is supposed to be 
 innate, the vicious one, of course, must be acquired; 
 since it is too gross an absurdity to maintain, that 
 God hath woven into man's constitution two prin- 
 ciples that draw contrary ways at once, that is^ 
 that he should give him both a liking and loathing 
 to one and the same thing; for that would be to 
 undo with one hand what he had been before doing 
 with the other, or, the one would be a negation of 
 the other as to their effects upon man's behaviour 
 in life. A procedure which might indeed (if pos- 
 sible to be observed) suit the character of an arbi- 
 trary being, but Such as is entirely incompatible 
 with all the ideas we entertain of the first great 
 Cause of all things. And we find it to be fact, 
 that most men are acted by both those principles, 
 and in some it is observable that the vicious prin- 
 ciple rises higher than the virtuous one : why there- 
 fore may not the latter be acquired as well as the 
 former? or what arguments can be brought to 
 prove the one innate, which will not conclude with 
 equal force for the other being innate also ? I leave 
 this to the serious consideration of the reader. 
 
 8. From this difference in our approbation and 
 disapprobation of moral characters, it is but a rea* 
 sonable conclusion that we would draw, viz. that 
 those actions which we stile virtuous, or vicious, 
 are liked and disliked, not by nature and constitu- 
 tion, but from association and habit, as we shall 
 endeavour to make appear in the following disser- 
 tation. But it is now high time for us to begin 
 with our subject. 
 
 Vol. 2. K 
 
SECTION II. 
 
 A 
 
 .FTER the strictest enquiry into the 
 nature, properties, or affections of matter, it ap- 
 pears to be absolutely impossible that any species 
 of perception or consciousness should arise from, or 
 be the result of, any possible configuration or ar- 
 rangement of the parts of matter whatsoever. And 
 if not, then consequently in man, as in every other 
 inferior class of living, percipient beings, there must 
 be two distinct separate principles, a material and 
 immaterial one, as the proper subjects of these dis- 
 tinct, different properties, which are to be found in 
 such a compound. 
 
 2. And though how an immaterial being should 
 act upon matter, and move it to any given place in 
 any assignable direction, is as inconceivable, and 
 therefore as impossible to explain, as the manner 
 in which material objects, or bodies in motion, make 
 impressions upon, and so consequently raise per- 
 ceptions in, an immaterial principle, yet both these 
 cases, though inconceivable, are undoubtedly true, 
 it being demonstrable, that immaterial substance 
 and matter are so united together, and related in 
 such ways and manners, as to have those effects 
 reciprocally upon each other, though the modus of 
 their operation on one another is at present not to 
 
: S 
 
 be comprehended. No particle of matter, however 
 compounded and decompounded, or in whatever 
 situation it lies, can ever begin to move of itself; 
 therefore must be put into motion by some other 
 thing, which, if it be also matter, must be moved 
 by some other, and that again by another, and so 
 on, till we come to some first mover, itself un- 
 moved, and the beginner of motion in all material 
 beings. For bodies can no otherwise act upon bo- 
 dies, but by imparting the motion they have aU 
 ready received to each other. So likewise, on the 
 other hand, A, for instance, moving with a certain 
 given degree of velocity, impinges on B, another 
 body, lying in its way, overcomes its vis inertia, or 
 resistance against a change of state, sets it a mov- 
 ing, and, by that means, alters its figure, position, 
 or site, with respect to other bodies about it. But 
 this is all that is effectible in such a case. It can 
 never by such an impulse or communication of mo- 
 tion excite in B any feeling, sensation, or con- 
 sciousness of its change of state from rest to motion. 
 Bodies may move on to eternity in all possible di- 
 rections, and with all the various degrees of velocity 
 assignable, and still after all, the event will be, both 
 with respect to themselves and other bodies they 
 meet with, no other, than a change of the figure, 
 distance, and situation of their parts. 
 
 3. It is found by experience that there is such 
 a close and intimate relation betwixt soul and body, 
 that what passes in the one affects the other. Cer- 
 tain motions in the body raise certain perceptions 
 in the soul, and vice versa, such and such particular 
 perceptions in the soul produce such and such par- 
 ticular motions in the body That sensations in 
 
 the soul are the effects of certain motions excited 
 first in the body by external objects, appears from 
 
( 60 ) 
 
 the extreme difficulty of keeping the same unvaried 
 sensation for any considerable time together in the 
 mind, unless the same object which first impressed 
 it be present; for then, the motion which gave rise 
 to the sensation being continued, the sensation it- 
 self also will continue. And experience shews this 
 to be true. Not but that sensations remain some 
 short time in the mind after the objects are re- 
 moved beyond their sphere of acting, that is, they 
 leave their ideas behind them. 
 
 4. It is universally allowed by all writers on 
 the subject, that the brain is the sensorium, or the 
 enclosure of the immaterial, percipient principle, 
 where it receives its first notice of external objects, 
 by the mediation of the nerves, which communicate 
 to it the several sorts and degrees of motion im- 
 pressed on them by or from such objects. 
 
 5. The nerves therefore are the instruments 
 appointed by the Author of Nature for imparting 
 such motions as they receive from outward objects 
 to the sensory (the residence of the sentient princi- 
 ple) and to carry from thence and communicate to 
 the muscles (the proper means of voluntary motion 
 in all sorts of animals) the first conatas or tenden- 
 cy to motion and action, which (muscles) accord- 
 ingly both distend and contract themselves, as such 
 contraction and dilation serves to carry the orders 
 and resolves of the soul into execution. But if the 
 reader wants to be acquainted with the nature of 
 muscular motion, and the manner in which it is 
 performed, let him consult those who have profeas- 
 edly wrote upon the subject. 
 
 6. The learned are divided into two different 
 opinions concerning the make and structure of the 
 nerve?. The generality both of physicians and ana- 
 tomists hold them to be of a round, tubular figure; 
 
( 61 ) 
 
 whilst others take them to be so many chords 
 (made uf> of certain small threads or hairs) and con- 
 taining no cavities in them. Those who contend 
 for their being hollow, say, they are filled with a 
 certain fine subtle fluid, generally called and known 
 by the name of animal spirits : which fluid they of 
 the other opinion bring as an argument against the 
 nerves being tubular: for, say they, the resistance 
 of matter being supposed, and action and reaction 
 commonly in all given cases alike and equal, it 
 seems impossible that any fluid, under such circum- 
 stances, should move with a velocity proportioned 
 to the quickness and fleetiness (if I may so speak) 
 of sensation and volition. Or, granting this possi- 
 ble (though at present inconceivable) yet the rapi- 
 dity and violence with which the fluid is carried, 
 would, in all probability, tear in pieces, and break 
 out of the vessels, which contain it. Whence they 
 conclude, as the more probable of the two, the 
 nerves to be combinations of certain filaments most 
 closely joined and consolidated together, which, 
 when touched at one end, the motion (of whatever 
 length those threads or capillaments may be) is im- 
 mediately communicated, that is, felt at the other. 
 In the same manner, to give an instance, as when 
 one touches the chord of any musical instrument, 
 the whole length of the chord participates of that 
 impulse, tremor, or undulation, that is, the vibra- 
 tion is carried from one extremity to the other in 
 the same individual moment of time. 
 
 7. Which of the two opinions is the right, lies 
 not in our province to determine. Only thus much 
 we may observe, that allowing them to be tubular, 
 it would be presumption in any one positively to 
 maintain that God cannot fill them with a fluid of 
 such degrees of rareness and tenuity (though no 
 
fluid so subtle may fall within the compass of our 
 observation) as to move with a velocity that will 
 answer the purposes of sensation and volition. To 
 a Being of infinite wisdom and power every thing 
 which involves not a contradiction is possible ; and 
 he can bring about any assignable end by more 
 ways than one. Let those make good their asser- 
 tion who affirm that the probability of the fact, lies 
 on the other side, and that the seeming make and 
 fabric of the nerves, and the quickness of sensation 
 and volition, or the readiness with which the will 
 in all cases is obeyed, absolutely excludes any fluid 
 (though ever so rare) from such an important share 
 in the execution of its ordeVs. 
 
 8. " That the nerves are governed by the mind, 
 " or by the force and quickness of thought, in cer- 
 " tain instances, appears, says an ingenious writer, 
 " plainly from hence, that when we catch a flying 
 ball, or when we defend our heads from a blow, 
 " our arm is then moved by the nerves guiding the 
 c muscles, yet the nerves are directed by the mind; 
 * c for although the performances and oeconomy of 
 " the nerves are noble, they are not designed (by 
 (< nature) to contract or extend a muscle, without 
 " order from the mind, or prime seat of sense 
 
 " moreover, when it happens (contrary to nature) 
 < f that any of the nerves contract a muscle, without 
 fi commission from the mind, that muscle so moved 
 *' is then cramped or in convulsion/' 
 
 9. If every distinct particular perception of 
 the soul excites a distinct particular motion of the 
 nerves, and reciprocally, every distinct particular 
 motion of the nerves produces a distinct particular 
 perception in the soul, it will ever be, that when 
 the same motions of the nerves are repeated, the 
 same perceptions shall be felt by the soul, and, vice 
 
( 63 ) 
 
 ^ when the same perceptions are felt in the soul, 
 the same motions shall be excited in the body. Con- 
 sequently, if the perception X, for instance, pro- 
 duces the motion Y in the body, the motion Y, 
 whenever supposed to exist afterwards, must pre- 
 suppose the perception X as the efficient cause of 
 its then appearance; this follows by undeniable 
 consequences. It is true, Y may afterwards be as- 
 sociated with some other motion in the body, 
 which motion, in such case, may re-excite Y with- 
 out the concurrence of X; or it may be, that X 
 and some other perception may in such manner be 
 associated, that the latter shall not only produce its 
 associate, but also the motions in the body corres- 
 ponding to each of them. How this is done we 
 shall endeavour to shew hereafter. 
 
 10. As every motion of the nerves implies 
 some certain perception in the soul, as the cause 
 or effect of it, and, reciprocally, every perception in 
 the soul implies a certain motion of the nerves, 
 considered likewise either as its cause or effect, it 
 affords a strong presumptive evidence of every ani- 
 mal thinking during the whole of its corporal life. 
 
 11. Sensations arising from the action of ex- 
 ternal objects upon the nerves, are ever more or less 
 intense in proportion to the difference of suscepti- 
 bility in the person affected. But in a species of 
 beings formed, to all appearance, alike, how one 
 comes to be more susceptive of pleasure and pain 
 from the very same objects than another, is what 
 I believe no one can strictly account for. Whether 
 this be founded on any difference in the make, 
 structure, or disposition of the nerves, by which 
 they become better or worse qualified to discharge 
 their respective functions, and so capable of receiv- 
 ing very different impressions, or whether (accord- 
 
( 6* ) 
 
 ing to the opinion of some) the ground of this 
 versity lies not in the solids which compose the 
 nerves, or rather (according to others) in the fluids 
 which surround, and most probably fill them, in 
 virtue of which they are more or less in order to re- 
 ceive the motions excited by objects ab extra, and 
 by or through them communicated to the sentient 
 principle, is what no one, I presume, can with cer- 
 tainty determine. The foundation of this different 
 susceptibility is really laid in nature, and, under 
 that consideration, not adventitious, but born with 
 us, (though capable of being improved and variously 
 altered, as we shall see hereafter) and the several 
 degrees of sense and feeling arising from hence 
 truly innate. Allowing therefore a difference of 
 perceptibility in mankind, as undoubtedly there is, 
 and from hence one may account for the origin of 
 all our desires and aversions, our joys and sorrows, 
 our hopes and fears, and the different degrees of 
 strength and influence in each to the determination 
 of the will and the several inferior faculties of the 
 mind, either to the pursuit, or the avoidance of such 
 objects as differently strike and affect the sentient 
 principle. 
 
 12. There is in every man not only a power 
 of perceiving pleasure and pain from the applica- 
 tion of external objects to the organs of sense, but 
 also a power of attending to, and reflecting on 
 those perceptions; which two powers in each indi- 
 vidual are ever suited to, and in proportion with, 
 one another ; that is, the brisker and more forcible 
 the perception is, the quicker and stronger atten- 
 tion is constantly paid it; and the slower and more 
 dull the perception, the reflexion made on it is 
 accordingly. This, I believe, holds universally. 
 And from this attention to, and reflection on, our 
 
( 65 ) 
 
 perceptions, and the proper nieans of possessing or 
 avoiding them, as they happen to be agreeable or 
 disagreeable to us, can we account for the whole 
 tribe of human appetites and affections as they 
 shall be explained and deduced in order afterwards. 
 And which seem to be no other than certain asso^ 
 ciatioris, which we form ourselves or learn from 
 others, according to the particular course of life in 
 which we are engaged, and in conformity to the 
 situation we have been in. 
 
 13. From that difference of susceptibility 
 mentioned in article the llth, with the different 
 reflex acts consequent upon it as explained in the 
 last article, arises that diversity of sense and intel- 
 lect so observable at first amongst men: which dif- 
 ference also is enough to consitute a man passion- 
 ate in greater or less degrees; makes him more or 
 less pliant and active in whatever he turns himself 
 to, and gives him, or is itself, a tendency to the 
 forming a certain particular temper, or cast of 
 mind, though this tendency be liable to great al- 
 terations, as we shall find hereafter. 
 
 14. The body, as we observed above, is cap. 
 able by the motions produced in it, of affecting the 
 soul, and of raising perceptions there ; and that the 
 soul in return has a power of acting upon the 
 body, and of exciting motions in it, hath in like 
 manner been, shewn; there is further to be consi- 
 dered another extraordinary power of the soul, 
 which is, that by a mere act of the will she can 
 produce certain motions de novo y or such as never 
 actually existed before, and can wholly suspend 
 those already produced on such or such occasions, 
 if not at the first attempt, yet in time, and by de- 
 grees. At her volition, the several parts of the 
 
 Vol. ?.] i 
 
( 66 ) 
 
 body (capable of being put into motion) will 
 range and move themselves in manner and order 
 perfectly conformable to her views. And she can 
 still go beyond this. For being taught by others, 
 or reflecting herself on the tendencies of such dis- 
 positions of mind, as anger, love, gratitude, shame, 
 &c. to the production of happiness, or to the pre- 
 vention of misery, she can form them herself, and 
 annex them to particular actions ; which dispositi- 
 ons shall be attended with such motions in the body 
 as correspond to the particular nature and kind of 
 them. And what deserves particular notice, by a 
 Careful review of the probable means of happiness 
 and misery, she can either strengthen or reduce 
 her desires as she finds necessary to carry on the 
 great purposes of life and being. Of which in- 
 stances will be given below. 
 
 15. It is the opinion of physicians, what by 
 reason of the heat inseparable from the medullar 
 Substance of the brain, and the beating of the ar- 
 teries interspersed in those parts, that the agile par- 
 ticles composing this substance are in a continual 
 vibratory motion : and that certain vibrations exist 
 even whilst the foetus is in the womb. Supposing 
 then the state of the medullar substance, or the 
 motion of its particles, which with others before us 
 we may call the sensory, to be X, before the brain 
 is impressed by external objects. Let it then be 
 impressed by the object Y, it is evident from the 
 nature of this motion once produced, that the me- 
 dullar substance, or brain, will not immediately re- 
 turn to its first state, but the vibratory motion from 
 Y will continue some short space, or its state then 
 we may call Y, receding afterwards by little and 
 little to X again ; or this last motion continually 
 diminishing, the former ones will recover their 
 
power of affecting the sentient principle. But let 
 the same impression from Y, be frequently repeated, 
 and its conatus to return to X will be less and less, 
 at the same time that its tendency to Y grows 
 greater and greater, till by -further repetitions, Y 
 becomes its proper state. Let the brain be after- 
 wards impressed by the objects F, G, and it will 
 acquire in time an aptness and disposition for form- 
 ing the particular states F, G, and after more re- 
 petitions, will actually have completed them, or the 
 site and reciprocal actions of the medullar particles 
 will be accommodated to those last acquired states 
 
 of the brain. N. B. By the brain, or the state 
 
 of it, I mean not the whole brain, but that part or 
 region of it which answers to the particular nerves 
 thus impressed, whether they be the optic, audi- 
 tory ones, or the others: not but that those vibra- 
 tions may affect some other adjacent regions of the 
 brain, and excite there certain lesser inconsiderable 
 ones, their strength gradually lessening the longer 
 they continue. 
 
 ,16. What I would infer from the observation 
 above is, how that a fitness or disposition to receive 
 some impressions, and an unfltness or indisposition 
 to receive others, depends on the state of the brain, 
 according as it hath been more or less impressed by 
 such objects, or that certain motions frequently im- 
 pressed on the nerves creates a tendency or pr'open- 
 sion in the brain to receive them there in times to 
 come, i. e. whenever the objects offer themselves 
 again. The reader is desired to take notice of this, 
 as it will enable him to solve many difficult cases 
 which will probably occur to him whilst he is upon 
 the present subject. 
 
 17. By the last article it appears, that motions 
 impressed on the nerves from external objects, apd 
 
( 68 ) 
 
 by them communicated to the brain, leave there 
 certain faint traces of themselves, or that the same 
 motions are still continued, though in a feebler and 
 gradually decreasing degree; in like manner we 
 may observe, that sensations also leave behind them 
 ideas in the mind ; and as those lesser motions 
 answer to the greater ones, so do ideas to sensations; 
 which sensations likewise may be considered as the 
 cause of ideal existences, as the other, that is, vi- 
 brations, are of the lesser corresponding motions. 
 From which continuation of each as we just now 
 took notice, results the disposition to receive both 
 one and the other for the future. 
 
 18. By association I mean that power or facul- 
 ty by which the joint, appearance of two or more 
 ideas frequently in the mind, is for the most part 
 changed into a lasting and sometimes into an inse- 
 parable union. It is probable association may be 
 the result of, and owing to, that relation, which the 
 soul and body have to each other in their joint in- 
 corporated capacity. And since by ideas are un- 
 derstood certain motions of the nerves as felt and 
 perceived by the soul; then, probably, the reason 
 of ideas when once united keeping ever after in 
 company together, is owing to a succession of mo- 
 tions in the body, or, rather, to those motions of 
 the nerves always producing one another. For this 
 is fact: a child has the idea of the sound nurse 
 often presented to the ear, at the same with the vi- 
 sible appearance of the nurse herself in the eye, 
 and by this frequent conjunction it comes to pass, 
 that the visible appearance of the nurse shall itself 
 excite a faint image of the sound nurse in the ear ; 
 and the sound nurse in like manner shall excite a 
 faint image of the visible appearance of the nurse 
 in the eye. And all this seems to be effected by 
 
the mutual influence which the motions in the optic 
 and auditory nerves, constituting seeing and hear- 
 ing, have upon one another according to the laws 
 of matter and motion, 
 
 19. And though the heat residing in the me- 
 dullar particles of the brain, and the continual pul- 
 sation of the arteries will not, as we just now ob- 
 served, suffer the motions excited there wholly to 
 die away, yet other motions being ever and anon 
 impressed by external objects on the nerves, and 
 from thence conveyed to the brain, those latter mo- 
 tions striking the sentient principle more forcibly, 
 will obliterate the others for a while, or during the 
 time this last impression continues; but as this 
 wears off, which by degrees it will do, the former 
 motions revive, and first those, and then others, will 
 come to be taken notice of, as they pass in review 
 before the mind. But how some preferably to 
 others, come into view, is not so easy to account 
 for. Will the following solution be deemed satis- 
 factory? However, such as it is, it shall be laid be- 
 fore the reader, who, after he has considered it, may 
 either reject or acquiesce in it, according as it 
 seems probable or improbable to him. We have 
 observed in article the 16th, how the brain acquires 
 a propensity to the particular states a, b, c, d, e, f, 
 &c. according to the degree in which it has been 
 impressed by the objects A, B, C, D, E, F, &c. 
 alternately. Let those impressions be successively 
 repeated a certain determinate number of times, 
 and the tendency to those states will become 
 stronger and stronger, or the dispositions in the 
 medullar particles to receive those impressions will 
 succeed each other in their turn. Supposing there- 
 fore the state A to exist, or the brain to be im- 
 pressed by the object A singly, and the tendency 
 
( 70 ) 
 
 to the states b, c, d, e, t\ Sec. follows of course, or 
 the motion excited by A, will produce all the rest 
 in the order they used to arise and follow each 
 other, every one of which will accordingly exhibit 
 
 its correspondent idea to the soul Such, in fact, 
 
 is the mechanism of the human body, and so strict 
 a correspondence is there betwixt the several parts 
 of which we are composed, that whatever affects 
 some one part does by its engraftment amongst, 
 and incorporation wjth the rest, affect another, and 
 that, another, and so on, according to their mutual 
 dependency on each other. Thus when one of 
 these parts is moved, all the others receive that 
 motion successively in degree suited to the original 
 impress, the agility of the parts to be moved, and 
 their connection with, and situation amongst, one 
 another. 
 
 20, It may probably be expected, if outward 
 objects are necessary for exciting these motions at 
 first, that they cannot be re-excited afterwards 
 without the actual presence of the very same ob- 
 jects. To which it is answered, though it is cer- 
 tainly true those motions cannot be there excited 
 without being first impressed on the nerves from 
 objects ab extra, yet, notwithstanding this, there 
 appears no necessity of the object being always 
 present in order to revive those motions. We have 
 the ideas of things and persons at the distance of 
 one, two, or three hundred miles from us; and can 
 it be said, that it is the actual appearance of the 
 object which re-excites those motions? The bare 
 sound or recollection of the name the object goes 
 by is sufficient for this purpose. The fact is, those 
 motions and the ideas answering them are raised 
 and brought into view by association. See above^ 
 where the visible appearance of the nurse shall ex. 
 
( 71 ) 
 
 cite a faint image of the sound nurse in the ear, and 
 the sound nurse in like manner excite a faint image 
 cf the visible appearance of the nurse in the 
 
 21. It will likewise be expected by some, if 
 association be mechanical, that particular ones when 
 once made should ever continue. But the case we 
 see to be many times otherwise. Associations are 
 frequently broken ; and others of a contrary nature 
 and quality rise up in their room. Our desires and 
 aversions in respect of one and the same thing 
 plainly shew this. To which the answer is, for 
 the very reason that associations are subject to the 
 laws of matter and motion, it cannot be, but that 
 they must be liable to the greatest alterations, and 
 in time and by degrees be quite obliterated. For 
 motions are ever and anon overcome by contrary 
 ones, and in resisting mediums they decay. And 
 therefore since different and contrary motions of 
 the nerves will ever follow contrary and different 
 resolves of the will, it is certain, that so long as 
 there are different and contrary acts of the one, 
 there must be different and opposite motions of the 
 other, and when two contrary motions, of unequal 
 moments meet and impinge, the greater will, of ne- 
 cessity, prevail over and destroy the less. 
 
 22. Some of those who contend for the exist- 
 ence of animal spirits, as employed in conveying 
 to the soul notices of things ab extra, and in carry- 
 ing back from thence the orders of the will to the 
 several parts of the body, have given us the follow- 
 ing account of association. They suppose the im- 
 pressions on the nerves from external objects, and 
 thence continued to the brain, to be kept open by 
 the resorting of the animal spirits thither for that 
 purpose. That when two or more objects present 
 
( 72 ) 
 
 themselves at the same time, the impressions on the 
 sensory caused by them lying so near each other 
 that in turning to that part of the sensory, the 
 mind cannot view one without the other, and so 
 the ideas answering to those objects ever after keep 
 in company together. In like manner, when cer- 
 tain distinguishing circumstances attend any parti- 
 cular object, such object never appears to the mind, 
 that is, the idea of it, without those circumstances 
 accompanying it. And those impressions on the 
 sensory are in times of sleep designedly sealed up 
 from the view of the mind, that the body having 
 now no disturbance given it, may have an opportu- 
 nity of recovering from the indisposition the fatigue 
 it has been in occasioned, or, the seat of memory 
 in the corporeal sensory at such times is shut up, 
 and so the impressions lie concealed and out of 
 sight. And this is supposed to be done by pre- 
 venting the animal spirits being carried thither to 
 make the impressions patent. But this account of 
 the employment of animal spirits seems not satis- 
 factory. For either the animal spirits are necessary 
 to keep the impressions on the sensory patent, or 
 they are not ; if necessary, then all impressions 
 made there are kept open by them, or only some 
 of them ; if all, then no idea of any object, action, 
 or event, or of the least circumstance attending 
 each, could be obliterated, or there would be no 
 forgetful ness of any thing which had ever been 
 once perceived by the soul; contrary to experience. 
 If but some of them are continued patent, I ask, 
 why are those so preferably to others? Is this done 
 by an act of the will? When the veil is taken off 
 the register, are not all the impressions, one as well 
 as another, equally exposed to the animal spirits 
 which flock thither? Or are not Ithe animal spirits 
 
( 73 ; 
 
 enough in number to be sent, if not at once, yet 
 at different times, to all parts of the sensory, to 
 revive the dormant latent impressions, if any such 
 there be? The sensory is not of so large an extent, 
 nor they of such a sluggish nature, but what this 
 may be clone. And if so, whence could forgetful- 
 ness of any kind arise? This is a query I presume 
 not to solve myself, but propose it to be answered 
 by others. 
 
 23. In forming those associations, we are 
 sometimes active, at other times passive, which 
 therefore will come under different denominations, 
 conformably to the manner in which they are ac- 
 quired. The situation we are in does gradually^ 
 though insensibly, beget associations, which, in a 
 certain sense, may be s tiled necessary, as they are 
 so far made without the concurrence of the will, 
 or in which the will seems to be either very little 
 consulted or concerned. But though many of 
 those associations arise mechanically as it were, 
 from our circumstances, and the relation we stand 
 in to things around us, yet have we it very much 
 in our power, either to strengthen and confirm, or 
 to impair and eradicate, them. This is, I believe, 
 fact. Though it must be owned, it is the opinion 
 of some that we have no freedom, no principle of 
 agency, but are like machines, a piece of clock- 
 work, for instance, wholly passive, &c. But I 
 would appeal to those gentlemen, whether they do 
 not feel within themselves a power both of deter- 
 mining and acting independently on the objects 
 which solicit their choice ! They must allow it to 
 be so. We find we are not at all times carried 
 away with the stream, but in some cases can bear 
 up> and move against it, though it be but heavily, 
 Vol. 2.] K 
 
( 74 ) 
 
 till by continued strivings, and further advances, 
 slowly made, we acquire such degrees of strength, 
 as to stop the current, and if not to drive it back- 
 wards, yet to turn it some other way, and give it 
 a new direction. No one was ever known to have 
 been so much under the government of any habit, 
 but what he had it still in his power to have eman- 
 cipated himself from it. Besides, from whence I 
 should be glad to know results that self-compla- 
 cency and satisfaction of mind ever consequent 
 upon our performing certain particular acts, or vir- 
 tues, unless from a consciousness that we were at 
 liberty to have acted otherwise? So far as we im- 
 agine ourselves under necessity or restraint of any 
 kind, just to that degree do we not think ourselves 
 accountable. From whence, I say, should this 
 complacency arise, and how comes this sense of 
 unaccountableness, but from the strong convictions 
 we are under of having a principle of free-agency 
 independent on, and superior to, all other princi- 
 ples ! It can, I presume, be no other ways accounted 
 for, experience also constantly affirming, that it is 
 in the power of the soul, either to strengthen or 
 weaken her desires, to form new associations, or to 
 break old ones, (instances of which shall be given 
 hereafter) as she finds requisite for the carrying on 
 her views. 
 
 24. Granting the mind has a principle of free- 
 agency in common with her passive powers and 
 affections, yet is it capable of being affected by 
 them, as well as of controuling, and, in some in- 
 stances, of acting independently on them. And 
 though she chooses and acts sometimes in opposi- 
 tion to their solicitations, yet does she often exert 
 herself, and all her faculties, in compliance with 
 them. If this were not the case with us, to what 
 
( 75 ) 
 
 purpose would it be to set before us motives of hap- 
 piness and misery, in order to engage the will to or 
 from certain particular acts, on whose commission 
 or omission, our present and future well being or its 
 contrary, is foreseen, in various degrees to depend. 
 
 25. Such, in fact, are the means the mind em- 
 ploys in furnishing herself with a proper stock of 
 materials for acting, that they seem to have a ne- 
 cessary, and reciprocal dependency upon each other; 
 and are requisite, in their several places, for ans.wer- 
 ing the ends of such a creature. Some being 
 found necessary to move the soul, and stir her up 
 to action ; others to lay before her the consequen- 
 ces she is going to be led into, and how they may 
 be best obtained or avoided, as they appear, upon, 
 examination, to be conducive or otherwise to her 
 final interest; and after careful enquiry made, and 
 all proper information obtained, she still has the 
 power of choosing and determining within herself. 
 And in this, I conceive, lies the chief excellency of 
 a rational creature. The case in short is this. 
 Man, as A, for instance, finds himself placed in 
 such particular circumstances ; out of those cir- 
 cumstances, result gradually, and in a manner ne- 
 cessarily, certain associations which lay a biass upon 
 the will. But whilst the mind is under this influ- 
 ence, she has, if she will but exert it, a power of 
 taking a survey of those effects which such asso- 
 ciations, if indulged, will probably produce; and 
 can afterwards encrease or diminish, strengthen or 
 destroy them, as appears most suitable or otherwise 
 to the situation she is in. 
 
 26. That the will has habits of its own form- 
 ing, and how they are formed by its own proper 
 acts, or from the free exertion of itself, the reader 
 may see by consulting archbishop King's essay on 
 
( 76 ) 
 
 the origin of evil, with the translator's notes to it. 
 
 Those in common with other associations are 
 
 liable to great and sensible alterations ; by being 
 often repeated they keep contracting fresh degrees 
 of strength, and through long disuse, they lose 
 what they had formerly acquired. This I take to 
 be the nature of all habits in general. Let it be 
 considered further, that the same principle which 
 by an act of its own gave rise to certain associa- 
 tions, can by another act, or acts of its own, 
 equally destroy them, and, if occasion requires it, 
 form new ones in their room. Though it must be 
 confessed, associations can be no more made than 
 they can be dissolved at once. If much time, and 
 many repeated acts be necessary to the bringing 
 some habits to their full growth and perfection, 
 when they once arrive at this, the same, if not 
 longer time, 'and, probably, more repeated acts, 
 will be found requisite for the destroying of them. 
 But habits, though of the longest standing, and 
 in the greatest degree of strength, may notwith- 
 standing be eradicated ; this is fact. And besides, 
 it is proper to observe, that habits arising from the 
 exercise of this active power and principle of li- 
 berty, will bear such relation to all other habits, as 
 to be able to affect them, and be in return affected 
 by them, or rather the will (the efficient cause) be 
 itself afTected by and through them. 
 
 27. Experience is ever shewing us, that the 
 several parts of the body capable of being moved, 
 do all of them move by order of the will agreeably 
 te the views and intentions of the soul. As she 
 perceives, considers, and resolves upon things, and 
 the manner of doing and avoiding certain actions, 
 so do those parts fall into a state most conveniently 
 adapted for forwarding such designs, and carrying 
 
( 77 ) 
 
 them into execution. When the soul, to give an 
 instance, judges the resistance to be met with in 
 a contest with her enemy greater than her forces, 
 the several parts of the body are immediately 
 formed into a posture every way suitable for flight : 
 if she judges her forces superior to those she has 
 to engage with, she puts herself into a proper state 
 of defence, and accordingly either begins the at- 
 tack, or else is prepared to receive it. 
 
 28. And if the various motions, gestures, &c. 
 of the body are so many indications of what passes 
 in the soul and is transacted there, it is evident, 
 that having given the former we are able to find out 
 the latter. And on this apparent resemblance be- 
 twixt one and the other is founded physiognomy, 
 or the art of knowing the genius, the temper, the 
 inclinations, and propensities of men, by a view of 
 their faces and other corporeal features. 
 
 21 9. In respect to sensations from external ob- 
 jects, it is proper to observe, that a difference either 
 in the figure, site, or distance, of the object acting, 
 or in the medium through which the motion is 
 propagated, or in the disposition of the organ re- 
 ceiving it, a difference in any of those, I say, will 
 cause a different motion of the nerves, and, of 
 course, a different sensation, " when a certain con- 
 " currence of causes is necessary to the producing 
 " any effect, a different situation or concourse of 
 *- such causes will be attended with a different'ef- 
 feet." 
 
 30. Every distinct sensation in the soul is ever 
 accompanied with a distinct motion in the body. 
 Thus in anger, the parts of the body move differ- 
 ently from what they do in love, gratitude, or any 
 other of the passions. For in forming every dis- 
 position to be annexed to certain particular actions, 
 
( 78 ) 
 
 the s6ul has a distinct particular end in view; and 
 having so, the means she useth ought to be parti- 
 cular likewise, that is, the motions in the body 
 ought to be, and in fact are, conformable to the 
 soul's intention in such particular modification. 
 This is but a corollary from article the ?d. 
 
 \3l. Fact shews, that the same motions with 
 their concomitant sensations frequently repeated 
 lose their former intenseness. By being long con- 
 tined to the same meats we lose that relish for them 
 we formerly had ; they cloy the appetite, and either 
 grow insipid, or, which sometimes happens, unpal- 
 atable. The same may be said of the various di- 
 minutions of the pleasure of sight, smell, c. 
 The pleasure of sensation usually decreases in pro- 
 portion as the times of enjoyment encrease, till, by 
 further repetitions, the sensation either becomes 
 nothing, or is changed into its opposite. Hence 
 it is, that a constant confinement to one and the 
 same thing makes us at last contract a loathsome- 
 ness towards it, though the possession of it now 
 and then, and after certain intervening distances, 
 would not fail of being ever attended with agree- 
 able perceptions. And to this changeableness are 
 all our sensations, more particularly those from 
 external objects, liable, but in very different de- 
 grees- The same holds in respect of sensations 
 of the disagreeable kind, which ever become less 
 and less distasteful the oftener they are repeated. 
 The following causes may be assigned for it. 
 
 32. Reason and fact do both agree in this, 
 that different motions of the nerves differently 
 affect the soul; but nothing can affect her other- 
 wise than by the alteration it causes in the state, 
 site and disposition of the meduliar particles of 
 the brain, which by some is thought to be the sen- 
 
( 79 ) 
 
 sory on which all external objects are delineated. 
 Now the oftener the same impressions are made on 
 it, the better adapted they become to the state of 
 the sensory, or rather they constitute its then pre- 
 'sent state ; and whilst the soul continues in the 
 same state, she feels no change; for being long- ac- 
 customed to the same motions, they grow familiar 
 to her, and she feels not, that is, does not attend to 
 the change which happens; nor, in truth, is she 
 capable of it, till by many other and different re- 
 peated impressions, the state of the sensory becomes 
 changed again, and another introduced, when the 
 former, equally with other impressions from exter- 
 nal objects, recover their quondam po\v,er of affect* 
 ing the souk It is, in reality, the nature of all bo- 
 dies to suit themselves to any state they have been 
 long used to. There are, I believe, but few excep- 
 tions to this general rule, which both animate and 
 inanimate bodies almost inviolably observe. Bend 
 a, stick, for instance, and when the force with 
 which it was kept so is withdrawn, it will return 
 to its former straitness, but it may be bent so often, 
 and continued bent so long, as to remain ever after 
 crooked of itself. The same holds with regard to 
 animate, sensitive bodies; the oftener the same per- 
 ceptions are excited, the less sensibly they are felt. 
 Thus, to specify in some instances, being inured to 
 danger lessens the intenseness of the sensation ac- 
 companying fear. And being employed about, or 
 conversant with, persons in distress, weakens the 
 sensation accompanying pity. Both these instances 
 are verified in the case of the soldier and the chi- 
 riirgeon. The same is true of all the other pas- 
 sions. 
 
 33. It may probably be the consequence of the 
 finiteness of men's capacities for happiness and mi- 
 
( so ) 
 
 sery, with regard both to the intenseness and dura- 
 tion of each. For as no pleasure can he enjoyed 
 but to such a degree, which if it exceeds, it either 
 ceases to be pleasure or converts into its opposite, 
 so no particular degree of pleasure can be repeated 
 but just so often in such a limited time, without 
 being subject to the same change, or, in other 
 words, as no object is capable of producing plea- 
 sure above a certain degree, so neither can such ob- 
 ject produce that degree indefinitely, and without 
 
 intermission The reason is, the capacities of all 
 
 beings must be apportioned to their several natures 
 and modes of existence ; and their various move- 
 ments, actions, enjoyments, sufferings, and the sen- 
 sations attending them, must again be accommo- 
 dated to those capacities. Consequently a finite 
 being can but enjoy pleasure, or suffer pain, to a 
 certain determinate degree of intenseness and du- 
 ration. See Locke's Essay, vol. i. page 93. 
 
 34.t It is undoubtedly for certain ends (worthy 
 himself) that the great Author of our beings has 
 formed the human soul in that particular manner 
 as to be necessarily pleased with variety; and of 
 such a nature as not to admit of confinement to 
 any one set of objects whatsoever. " Who can 
 " sufficiently admire," says an ingenious writer, 
 * the structure of that curious organ of sense 
 " (taste) formed to distinguish all the varieties of 
 " proper nourishment, and directing us to a due 
 " proportion of it by the admonition of grateful 
 " sensations, so justly regulated, as to diminish in 
 " delightful sensations as we approach towards sa- 
 " tiety, and to correct excess by becoming at length 
 "distasteful: their end attained, they leave the 
 " mind unmolested for a convenient interval, de- 
 " signed to be filled up with nobler delights s from 
 
( 81 ) 
 
 " whence again, they gently recall our thoughts by 
 c< gradually encreasing appetites, at the seasonable 
 fi hour of repast. So wonderfully exquisite is the 
 <e mechanism of all the senses and faculties : those 
 " useful instruments^ mutually assisting, not inter- 
 " fering with each other in their motions ; unless 
 " their harmony be disturbed by the unskilful use 
 " of them, and all of them contributing, if rightly 
 ci employed, to the advancement of our hap- 
 c< piness." It was probably contrived by the 
 Supreme Intellect, that satiety should be the con- 
 sequence of an immoderate gratification of any of 
 the appetites, on purpose to wean off, by degrees, 
 the soul's attachment to the things of this life. 
 See Spectator voL viii. Spec. 626. 
 
 35. But though sensations usually grow less' 
 and less intense as the times of their production 
 encrease, and therefore those of the agreeable kind 
 become less pleasing, as the disagreeable ones are 
 less offensive the oftener the exciting cause of each 
 of them occurs, still it deserves our notice* that the 
 want of the first sort of sensations generally causes 
 us great anxiety ; and men are induced to gratify 
 their desires not so much on account of the plea- 
 sure which the gratification yields, as to avoid the 
 uneasiness which the not gratifying them creates. 
 This is the case of those who drink, smoke, and 
 take snuff, to such a degree as ever to be restless 
 and dissatisfied when not thus employed. By their 
 own confession they take little or no pleasure in 
 such things, but yet are uneasy without them* 
 Whence comes the difficulty of leaving off such 
 objects, is what wants to be accounted for; since 
 the pleasure in possession commonly decreases very 
 nearly in proportion as the uneasiness for the want 
 Vol. 2.J L 
 
of them encreases. It is, in truth, a remarkable 
 property of the soul, to be in love with objects 
 which give her little or no pleasure, and that the 
 oftener she uses any thing, the less agreeable it is 
 to her, yet the more solicitous she shall be for it, 
 and always hankering after the enjoyment of it. 
 
 36. if the same motions of the nerves be but 
 seldom repeated, the will is slowly, and, in some 
 instances, with extreme difficulty, obeyed ; if often, 
 then very readily; sometimes indeed so readily, 
 that great care and attention are required to pre- 
 vent those motions succeeding each other over and 
 above hastily: which commonly is the case with 
 those who learn to play on any instrument of music: 
 their fingers being apt to run over too nimbly the 
 several strings answering to, and forming the vari- 
 ous notes requisite to making up of any tune. 
 " By many reiterated productions, certain motions 
 ' in the body follow one another by a sort of ab- 
 " solute necessity ; without, and in some instances, 
 <c against, the views and design of the soul. One 
 " motion however excited, whether by a mere act 
 tl of the will, or by the impression of some object 
 " ab extra, giving rise to all the rest, instantane- 
 " ously succeeding each its associate, as by a na- 
 <c turai connection of one with the other." 
 
 37. Those active habits, as they may be pro- 
 perly called, are formed by long use and custom, 
 and follow, as an effect, from that particular course 
 of life men have been trained up in. It seems, the 
 more we use ourselves to any way of business, the 
 more it influences our practice, becomes woven by 
 degrees into our frame, or what makes a part of it, 
 and generally constitutes our character in life- 
 From article 36 and 31, we may observe, 
 
 38. That since sensations from without dimi- 
 
( 83 ) 
 
 nish in intenseness the oftener they are repeated ; 
 and that as those sensations will necessarily give 
 rise to a course of acting which ever coincides with 
 the nature and tendency of such particular associ- 
 ations, and as this tenor of acting gradually settles 
 into a habit, and grows more confirmed and opera- 
 tive the longer it is followed, so, practical princi- 
 ples, or active habits, founded on passive impres- 
 sions, will, in this view, be continually gathering 
 more and more strength, though the sensations 
 themselves be always weakening; or, in other 
 words, that habits formed by acting upon certain 
 motives shall be ever advancing in strength, at the 
 same time that the motives .they are founded on are 
 gradually losing it, or, are less sensibly felt and per- 
 ceived by the soul. Thus, to resume one of the 
 foregoing instances in article 32, by being accus- 
 tomed to danger, habits of defence, and a proper 
 posture of the body, are gradually formed, as the 
 sensation accompanying fear proportionally weak- 
 ens. The same may be said of pity, and holds of 
 all the other passions, and their concomitant sensa- 
 tions. What has been now said of passive impres- 
 sions and active habits, is applicable to all kinds of 
 passive impressions and active habits whatsoever, 
 whether habits of mind or body; for habits there 
 be of both. 
 
 39. We have already observed, that certain 
 particular motions in the body do by a fixed, gene- 
 ral law, ever attend certain distinct, particular pas- 
 sions of the soul, and, reciprocally, certain particu- 
 lar perceptions in the soul ever accompany such 
 and such motions in the body. It is equally fact 
 also, that a certain habit, fitness, or disposition of 
 body is gradually contracted by the long indulg- 
 ence of any passion, which not only makes men 
 
( 84 ) 
 
 more subject to such passion for the future, but 
 also tends as well to inflame it, as to lengthen its 
 continuance. By being often angry, for instance, 
 we insensibly bring upon ourselves such a habit as 
 both causes us to take the fire sooner, and not only 
 so, but which makes it burn the fiercer and more 
 violent; we are apt to grow peevish and fretful at 
 every little cross accident that befalls us, and to 
 shew an unbecoming resentment upon every petty 
 injury we receive, though instances of both kinds, 
 in our present circumstances, be unavoidable. And 
 which is more, during this uneasy state of rnincl, 
 we are wholly indisposed to receive any of the 
 agreeable sensations, though the objects which ex- 
 cited them at first, and which, at any other time, 
 would excite them again, are present. The same 
 is true of the long indulgence, and frequent returns, 
 of any other of the passions, whether of the agree- 
 able or disagreeable kind. It seems the more our 
 bodies are accustomed to the same motions, the 
 more unfit they be to receive others which are con- 
 stituted by nature the occasions of other sensations 
 in us. If this cannot be accounted for by what 
 has been said in article 13 and 16, it is, in truth, 
 too arduous a task (at least for me) to undertake 
 to determine, viz. whether the ground of this dis- 
 position to receive some motions, and not others, 
 with the sensations attending them, lies wholly in 
 the body or in the soul, or partly in one, and partly 
 in the other ; I only pretend to state a matter of 
 fact. Let those, who can better do it, explain the 
 reasons of it. 
 
 40. But to what cause, or causes, associations 
 owe their being, or, being formed, which way they 
 subsist and are continued, whether in analogy to 
 the laws of mechanism, as is probable, that is, in 
 
( 85 ) 
 
 the manner described in article 19, or agreeably to 
 the opinion of those in article 22, or that a more 
 rational account than either of those can be given, 
 I shall not presume myself, but leave to physicians 
 and anatomists to determine, whose acquaintance 
 with the structure of the brain, and the reciprocal 
 influence which the soul and body have upon each 
 other, better qualifies them to solve such kind of 
 difficulties. It is sufficient to observe that all allow- 
 there are such associations, without determining 
 any thing about their first birth or after-growth: 
 of which associations the reader is desired to take 
 the following account. 
 
 41. There seems to be a necessary correspon- 
 dency or connection betwixt some ideas and others. 
 The ideas of space and time (however we come by 
 them, whether they be general abstract ideas of the 
 mind's making, or infer the existence of something 
 ab extra, makes no alteration in the case) those 
 ideas, we say, associate themselves with, and are the 
 inseparable concomitants of, all others. When we 
 see such an event turn up, or a person perform such 
 an action, the idea of that person, action, &c. 
 never presents itself to the mind, but the time 
 when, and the place where, immediately occurs 
 along with it. The idea of husband also infers 
 that of wife; and the idea of parent that of child; 
 and we can never think of king and prince without 
 having at the same time the idea of subject in our 
 minds. This association may be called 'natural, as 
 it is founded in the necessary connection and de~ 
 pendance which such ideas have with one another. 
 In like manner, when two or more objects, at the 
 same time, strike the same, or different organs, if 
 the impressions are again and again repeated, the 
 ideas they excite will coalesce and unite. Which 
 
( 86 ) 
 
 ideas may properly be ranked under the same class 
 of associations. 
 
 42. Many of our associations are voluntary 
 and from ourselves. It is common for us to join a 
 number of loose and independent ideas together, 
 which very often follow one another ever after in a 
 train, and which will not, but with difficulty, ad- 
 mit of a separation. Instances of this sort will 
 be given hereafter. 
 
 43. Other associations (and those the most 
 considerable as to number and importance) grow 
 out of the circumstances we are placed in, and are 
 the necessary effect of that particular course of life 
 we are brought up to. Some also we learn from 
 imitation, or by taking the acts of others as the 
 rule and measure of our own, or are taught by 
 those we are brought up amongst, and have had 
 converse with. We walk, we ride, we lie down; 
 we eat, dress, visit, &c. as the mode in fashion is ; 
 we hope, fear ; we love, hate ; we approve and dis- 
 approve, according as our education and training- 
 up have been, and in obedience to the prevailing 
 custom of the age. Most men, I am of opinion, 
 reserve all their life long something of the tincture 
 they imbibed in their infancy ; and an affection or 
 sort of veneration for those principles they adopted 
 at a time when their tender minds were susceptive 
 of any sort of impressions. Hence the source of 
 national virtues and vices j and the different, and 
 (sometimes) contrary sentiments and perceptions 
 of them in different ages and countries, according 
 as men's associations have been different. We join 
 the ideas of certain acts to certain qualities in per- 
 sons ; and annex genteelness, worth, and grandeur 
 to objects which in themselves have none; agree* 
 
( 87 ) 
 
 ably to what we have seen others do before us, and 
 in conformity with established practice. 
 
 44. We shall close this section with the fol- 
 lowing momentous observation, that all the various 
 actions, and passions of the soul, such as perceiv- 
 ing, apprehending, deliberating, judging, reason- 
 ing, anct, in a word, the several intellectual opera- 
 tions of all sorts, depend in great measure on the 
 due order and dispositions of the parts of the body, 
 that is, upon the organs discharging their respective 
 functions in a manner agreeable to the nature of 
 the compound, and the purposes of the soul. It 
 is without controversy, a most surprising instance 
 of the force of union, that when either soul or 
 body, though two distinct principles, as to essence 
 and properties, is affected and out of order, the 
 other should be also, and the whole man or com- 
 pound suffer together, a defect or indisposition in 
 one causing the like in the other. 
 
 SECTION 
 
SECTION III. 
 
 T 
 
 JL HE following truths every one will as- 
 sent to by what he feels when the sentient principle 
 is affected with impressions made upon it ab extra. 
 %. The various constitutions of animate, or- 
 ganized bodies, and the powers of material objects 
 surrounding them, are such, that the application of 
 one to the other will have different, sensible effects; 
 from whence a difference in things is clearly dedu- 
 cible ; for, if the site, figure, magnitude of objects, 
 and the degrees of motion impressed on them, 
 were the same, the same sensations would ever 
 arise, supposing no alteration either in the medium 
 or organ. 
 
 3. We find by experience that some of those 
 sensations are pleasing to the soul, and, as such, 
 styled agreeable ; others the reverse of them, and 
 those we call disagreeable. 
 
 4. What produces pleasure we call a means of 
 happiness; and the means of happiness always pro- 
 duce in our minds an approbation of them ; what 
 produces pain, we call a means of misery; and the 
 means of misery likewise produce in our minds a 
 disapprobation of them. We approve and disap- 
 prove therefore of objects, actions, and events as 
 they tend to give us pleasure arid pain. Which af- 
 
( 89 ) 
 
 fections df mind (approbation and disapprobation) 
 are unavoidably consequent upon man's being con- 
 stituted a being susceptive of happiness and mi- 
 sery. 
 
 5. Some things promote our happiness without 
 being conscious they do so; such are all inanimate 
 things: others contribute to it, knowingly and with 
 design ; such are beings formed with principles of 
 reason and free-agency. The former we properly 
 enough stile involuntary, the latter voluntary, means 
 of happiness. The same may be said of the intro- 
 duction of misery. And men's approbation and 
 disapprobation of those different means of happi- 
 ness and misery will be also different, as we hope 
 to make appear with the reasons of it, in the follow- 
 ing section. 
 
 6. To procure itself the greatest possible sum 
 of pleasure, is the proper concern of every rational 
 sensible being, and what both is, and ought to be, 
 the ultimation of all its aims and pursuits. 
 
 7. All pleasure apprehended to lie within our 
 reach, produces a desire of it; pain likely to be en- 
 dured, raises an aversion from it. The means of 
 happiness excite a love of them ; the means of mi- 
 sery an hatred to them. And from those two va- 
 riously modified, flow all those other dispositions of 
 mind, which we sometimes stile passions, at other 
 times affections, though the terms expressing their 
 import and significancy, are, and ought to be kept 
 distinct. 
 
 8. Pleasure is not barely confined to the object 
 producing it. But the means of pleasure, when- 
 ever viewed by the mind, have a present pleasure 
 annexed to them proportioned to the quantity ex- 
 pected in the enjoyment. The same is likewise 
 
 Vol. 2.] M 
 
( 90 ) 
 
 true of pain. For as happiness and misery are not, 
 so neither can the procuring or preventing causes 
 of them he, indiiferent to man. And this pleasure 
 and pain, arising from the probability of possessing 
 future pleasure and pain, may, and not improperly, 
 be stiled passion. 
 
 9. The probability of possessing happiness, or 
 of procuring the means of it, raises the particular 
 modification of mind called hope; which is ever ac- 
 companied with certain pleasing, agreeable sensa- 
 tions And the probability of enduring pain raises 
 the modification of mind called fear; which is like- 
 wise ever attended with painful and disagreeable 
 .sensations. 
 
 10. It is proper to observe, that hope and fear 
 do not only arise upon the apprehension of pleasure 
 and pain likely to be enjoyed and endured, but that 
 the removing, or the probability of removing, a 
 present or impending evil, raises hope; as the pro- 
 bability of losing a means of happiness, raises fear. 
 The sensations attending which hope or fear shall 
 as to their intenseness be in a compound ratio (to 
 speak in the mathematicians style) of the degrees 
 of such probability and the quantity of misery to 
 be removed, or of happiness to be lost. 
 
 11. The reason why hope and fear are at- 
 tended with those sensations of the agreeable and 
 disagreeable kind, is this; hope, as we have ob- 
 served, is founded on the probability of possessing 
 a means of happiness ; fear, on the probability of 
 losing a means of it, or of enduring a means of mi- 
 sery. But the means of happiness and misery, 
 whenever reflected on, have a present pleasure and 
 pain ever accompanying them, proportioned to the 
 apprehended sum of each. 
 
 12. Whatever makes, or is supposed to make, 
 
( 91 ) 
 
 a part of our happiness, and in our power to ob- 
 tain, we shall necessarily desire: and as desire puts 
 us upon attempts to obtain the desired object, so 
 is it ever attended with an uneasiness suited to the 
 particular nature of it ; for our desires will be dif- 
 ferent as they respect different things. The ques- 
 tion is, whence arises this uneasiness, or to what 
 cause are we to ascribe it? I answer, it is in part 
 owing to the absence of the thing desired ; for how 
 can man be happy when what should make him so 
 is wanting? Supposing him to be easy without it, 
 there would be no place for desire ; and he would be 
 perfectly indifferent whether he had it or had it not. 
 And partly also owing to the uncertainty of pos- 
 sessing what is desired, because a state of uncer- 
 tainty is always accompanied with anxiety. But 
 when certainty is once substituted in the room of it, 
 anxiety, and its inseparable attendant (uneasiness) 
 then cease. And the very instant that uneasiness 
 expires does joy succeed in its place, that is, the 
 mind reflecting on the enjoyment of an approach- 
 ing good, feels that pleasing sensation we call joy. 
 Desire therefore is attended with uneasiness as well 
 on account of the want of the thing desired, as 
 from an apprehension of the uncertainty of pos- 
 sessing it. For happiness and misery, and the pro- 
 bable causes of them, cannot be indifferent to such 
 a being as man, but by his constitution he must be 
 affected with them. 
 
 13. The gratification of desire is always ac- 
 companied with pleasure, and the reason is, because 
 the uneasiness necessarily attendant on it, then, 
 ceases ; and future, expected happiness is changed 
 into, or becomes real, present happiness. And the 
 disappointment of desire is attended with uneasi- 
 ness, because we want, or fall short of, what we 
 
( 92 ) 
 
 reckoned a part of our happiness; and the want of 
 apprehended happiness must, of course, be uneasi- 
 ness to us. The case is this ; the pleasure resulting 
 from the gratification of desire, is in all instances 
 suited to the uneasiness universally connected with 
 it ; this uneasiness is ever according to the violence 
 of the desire; and the strength of desire is con- 
 stantly as the object desired is judged to make 
 more or less a part of our happiness. Conse- 
 quently, the pleasure of gratification will be always 
 proportioned to the degree in which the object of 
 desire is connected with our happiness, or effective 
 of it. 
 
 14. Though the pleasure of gratification flows 
 from the removal of the uneasiness attendant on 
 desire, and is in proportion to the degree of it, yet, 
 the pleasure in the enjoyment of the desired object 
 is not solely in proportion to the height of such de- 
 sire, but partly to it, and partly to its capacity of 
 producing pleasure in us; nothing being more com- 
 mon than to hear men complaining of things balk- 
 ing their expectations, and not answering in the 
 event one half of what they promised themselves. 
 The same is true in respect of pain, which is ever 
 in proportion to the degree of ill in the object, and 
 not to our aversion from it; it being an unques- 
 tionable fact, that there is a certain fixed invariable 
 degree of good and ill in every object (capable of 
 differently affecting the sentient principle) which 
 neither the strongest desire and aversion can pos- 
 sibly encrease, nor will the weakest diminish it. 
 
 15. Effects will be ever proportional to their 
 causes, both as to kind and degree ; consequently 
 the more intense the soul's sensations are, the 
 greater tendency to motion and action arises from 
 thence, as also, the more strongly the nerves are, 
 
( 93 ) 
 
 impressed ab extra, the more intense sensations are 
 produced in the soul. And thus the case ever will 
 be, whether we consider the former or the latter as 
 the efficient cause of the other. 
 
 16. Those above are the most material modi- 
 fications of mind necessarily flowing from a view of 
 involuntary means of happiness and misery, which, 
 we have seen, are but certain feelings and sensations 
 in the soul (ever attended with suitable, correspond- 
 ing motions in the body) in respect of pleasure and 
 pain likely to be enjoyed and endured. And from 
 what has been said, we may gather, by way of co- 
 rollary, the following truths. 
 
 17. That the power of receiving pleasure and 
 pain from certain impressions made on the sensory 
 by external objects, is a natural power and born 
 with us, or, it is the necessary effect of our make 
 and constitution. 
 
 18. That pleasure results from an agreeable- 
 ness betwixt some particular sense and object; 
 pain from an unsuitableness or disagreement of ob- 
 ject with sense ; or in other words, that certain mo- 
 tions of the nerves excited ab extra are productive 
 of pleasing and agreeable, and others the cause of 
 disagreeable and offensive sensations, in us. 
 
 19. That there is not only a difference in the 
 powers external objects have of exciting pleasing 
 and disagreeable sensations in us, but also in our 
 capacities of receiving and continuing those mo- 
 tions which by the Author of Nature are consti- 
 tuted the occasions of them; some objects being 
 found in fact to produce greater, some 'less degrees 
 of pleasure and pain to us, varying according to 
 the difference there is sometimes in the object act- 
 ing, at other times in the subject acted upon; a 
 difference of susceptivity in different men constitut* 
 
ing desires and aversions of different degrees in 
 respect of the very same objects. 
 
 QO. Since the disappointment of desire is sure 
 in all cases to be attended with uneasiness propor- 
 tioned to the violence of such desire ; and because 
 the more desires beings of limited powers have, the 
 more difficult the means of gratification must be 
 (since those means lie oftentime out of our reach) 
 and the more difficult the acquisition of those means, 
 the fewer appetites, of course, will be gratified, 
 and consequently the higher must the sum of oiir 
 uneasiness rise, therefore, it must be the interest, 
 and from that consideration it becomes our duty, to 
 contract the number of those desires, or rather, not 
 to suffer them to arise at first; in doing which we 
 shall make our happiness less dependent on things 
 without us, whose possession so many times is thus 
 hazardous and uncertain. 
 
 21 . Since all pleasure flows from an agreement 
 of object with desire, and is in all instances in a 
 compound ratio of the degree of good in the object 
 and the strength of the appetite, or directly as the 
 powers of producing pleasure in the object, and our 
 capacities of receiving it, the consequence is, that 
 the stronger the appetite, or the higher it rises (an 
 adequate, correspondent degree of good being ever 
 supposed in the object) the greater in the enjoy- 
 ment will the pleasure be. Whence it appears, 
 that men of the fewest, but at the same time of the 
 strongest appetites, must be the happiest, suppos- 
 ing only the means of gratification certain. 
 
 22. If one would speak with propriety on the 
 subject, I should choose to call that pain arising 
 from the disagreement of object with desire, posi- 
 tive pain ; the first contriver of all things having 
 feed a law to our desires of the same nature with 
 
( 95 ) 
 
 those to which the material system is subject ; and 
 such as cannot be any ways altered without either 
 changing the essential qualities of external objects, 
 or making the organs of sense in human bodies dif- 
 ferent from what they now be. Such is the settled, 
 immutable relation betwixt one and the other, the 
 disagreeable sensations arising from certain motions 
 impressed ab extra, being according to the order 
 and appointment of the great Creator, and what, 
 like cause and effect, are fixed in the natural course 
 of things. And the pain attendant on the disap- 
 pointment of desire I would call privative pain, as 
 it arises from the privation of a certain happiness 
 supposed to have been attainable by us. And be- 
 twixt those there is a difference as well in kind as in 
 degree, the suffering a real evil being the cause of 
 one, and the want of what we apprehended to make 
 a part of our happiness, the cause of the other. 
 And where the causes are unlike, the effects cannot 
 be the same. Agreeably to this, the pleasure aris- 
 ing from the enjoyment of the desired object may, 
 for distinction sake, be termed positive pleasure; 
 and that flowing from the gratification of desire (if 
 the two pleasures can be conceived apart) deriva- 
 tive, anticipating pleasure; because desire on whose 
 gratification the pleasure is founded, flows from the 
 notion of some particular thing making a part of 
 our happiness ; and when desire is gratified, future 
 expected happiness is, as we before observed, 
 changed into, or then becomes real, present happi- 
 ness. 
 
 23. It will not be improper to close this sec- 
 tion with an observation on the present scheme of 
 things, which is found in fact to be such, that the 
 same objects, actions, and events, which produce 
 pleasing, agreeable sensations are, (or the greatest 
 
( 96 ) 
 
 part of them at least) preservative of our beings, 
 and without which we should either immediately 
 cease to exist at all, or to exist in the manner we 
 now do ; and those which produce painful, disagree- 
 able sensations are, if applied in a certain way, and 
 to such a degree, destructive of our beings. And 
 this shews, in an eminent manner, both the wisdom 
 and goodness of our Creator, in annexing pleasing 
 sensations to the enjoyment of such things as make 
 for our continuance in being: and disagreeable, 
 offensive sensations to those which have the contrary 
 tendency : (forasmuch as prior to experience, or to 
 the effects which external objects are seen to have 
 upon human bodies, reason from a contemplation of 
 our own natures, or from a survey of the natures 
 and properties of things around us, could never 
 have discovered a greater congruity and fitness in 
 the application of some than others to such bodies 
 as ours; or that the same thing which gives us plea- 
 sure should at the same time tend to our preserva- 
 tion ; and what gives us pain to our destruction ;) 
 that we might be allured by the prospect of the 
 pleasure they yield us in fruition to the pursuit of 
 such objects as are necessary to continue us in our 
 existences; when we either do not make, or are not 
 capable of making, just and proper reflections on 
 their tendencies to this end. 
 
 SECTION 
 
SECTION IV. 
 
 OUP] 
 
 TOSING our happiness or misery 
 wholly depended on inanimate things as the proper 
 causes of them, our approbation and disapprobation 
 with the concomitant agreeable and disagreeable 
 sensations, would be in order and degree as des- 
 cribed in the last section. But since both one and 
 the other are in great measure founded on the acts 
 of those who are perfectly free in the choice they 
 make of concurring, or not concurring, with us to 
 this end, after enquiring into the ground and rise 
 of each it will, I presume, appear, that men's ap- 
 probation and disapprobation, love and hatred of 
 beings intentionally contributing to their happiness 
 and misery, are essentially different from that ap- 
 probation and disapprobation arising from involun- 
 tary means of happiness and misery; as shall now 
 be made out. 
 
 2. A, for instance, perceives his happiness in 
 some particular respects to depend upon certain 
 actions of B to be performed in his favour ; there- 
 fore whatever tends to obtain this performance, or 
 to induce B to it, is a means of that which is itself 
 a means of happiness, and included with the other 
 in his approbation of it. But A and B, being born 
 Vol. 2.1 N 
 
( 98 ) 
 
 free and equal, A can have no more claims upon B 
 for his kind offices than B hath reciprocally upon A ; 
 reason therefore dictates, and experience shews him, 
 that the most likely means to bring over B to his 
 interest, that is, to undertake an action with a view 
 to serve him, is to shew a disposition to return that 
 kind action with another. And this is very ob- 
 servable in children, who to engage us in their fa- 
 vour when they want us to oblige them in any par- 
 ticular thing, designedly practise upon us all the 
 different arts of pleasing they can readily think of, 
 and industriously strive to shew themselves in the 
 several little affecting attitudes and endearing me-^ 
 thods of behaviour they can gracefully put on, the* 
 better to dispose us to gratify them in their re- 
 quests. And what reason, or instruction first 
 taught them the expediency of, custom afterwards 
 renders easy and familiar to them. And though 
 this disposition will not immediately arise upon our 
 mere willing of it, yet when we once come to con- 
 sider it in our several intercourses with others as a 
 necessary means of happiness, that consideration 
 alone, if not immediately, will, in time, excite it; 
 that is, we shall be necessarily disposed in this man- 
 ner towards the person from whom we either have 
 received, or are in expectation of receiving, offices 
 of kindness, when such disposition is judged to be 
 the procuring or preserving means of them. This 
 disposition of mind therefore considered as a means 
 of future, will necessarily be attended with present 
 pleasure. Whence we gather this truth, that our 
 approbation of voluntary means of happiness dif- 
 fers from approbation of involuntary ones in this, 
 that the former necessarily implies a disposition in 
 us to promote the happiness of those who have con- 
 
( 99 ) 
 
 tributed towards ours ; not so the other, which ter- 
 minates in possessing the object desired. 
 
 3. It is proper to take notice here, that this 
 disposition implied in our approbation of voluntary 
 means of happiness, is originally founded on a sense 
 of private happiness, till after many repetitions we 
 are insensibly led to approve moral characters, even 
 when our own happiness and the means of it are 
 no ways concerned. The idea, or recollection of 
 voluntary means of happiness, constantly producing 
 in our minds an approbation of them, or that par- 
 ticular sentiment and disposition of soul we ever 
 mean by the term approbation, the reason of which 
 will be given hereafter, as the reader sees it hath 
 been in part already. 
 
 4. Since the gratification of desire is ever at- 
 tended with pleasure suited to the degree of it, and 
 because the disposition or desire of promoting the 
 happiness of voluntary means is associated with our 
 approbation of them, we hence learn also this other 
 truth, that we shall not only desire, but shall actu- 
 ally take pleasure in, the happiness of those means, 
 a circumstance which never accompanies our ap- 
 probation of involuntary means. 
 
 5. Since it lies as much within B's power to 
 promote A's misery as his happiness, all that hu- 
 man foresight and application can do to guard and 
 secure him from it, is to use such methods of act- 
 ing as naturally tend to restrain B from it. But 
 reason teaches, and experience will shew him, that 
 the most probable means of succeeding in this is to 
 shew a disposition of returning like for like. 
 Whence we see, that disapprobation (necessarily 
 consequent upon the apprehension of enduring evil) 
 of voluntary means of misery differs from our dis- 
 approbation of involuntary ones in this* that it ne- 
 
cessarily infers a disposition of producing the mi- 
 sery of those who have designedly made us so, or 
 \vho have been willing in sentiment and intention 
 to have done it. 
 
 6. This disposition or desire, implied in our 
 disapprobation of voluntary means of misery, is 
 likewise, we see, originally founded on a sense of 
 private happiness, or more properly, on a view of 
 avoiding misery, till after much repeated disappro- 
 bation we come of course to disapprove all immo- 
 ral characters, or voluntary means of misery, though 
 our happiness be neither liable to be impaired nor 
 our misery encreased by them, as will appear more 
 fully afterwards. From the above we gather, 
 
 7. That the difference betwixt love and ha- 
 tred of beings intentionally contributing to our 
 happiness and misery, and our love and hatred of 
 purely involuntary means, consists in this, that the 
 former implies a desire of, and therefore a pleasure 
 in, the happiness or misery of the object beloved or 
 hated, accordingly as such being hath voluntarily 
 made a part of our happiness or misery; but the 
 latter only regards the possessing or avoiding the 
 object beloved or hated, and looks no further. 
 N. B. Though it is asserted above how reason 
 shews, and experience confirms, that some particu- 
 lar modifications of mind were necessary for pro- 
 curing happiness, others for avoiding misery, yet 
 the fact generally is, that we are taught by others 
 at first to shew such dispositions on certain occasi- 
 ons, and not to form them ourselves from any ne- 
 cessity we conceive ourselves under, either from rea- 
 son or observation so to do; though, as we advance 
 in years, the former points out to us, and the latter 
 vouches, the seasonableness of annexing such dis- 
 positions to certain particular acts of our own and 
 
others. And it is the same with regard to our 
 general doctrine, whether we make them ourselves 
 or have them from others; since in either case they 
 are acquired. 
 
 8. We are now furnished with an answer to 
 the ingenious author of the Enquiry into the origi- 
 nal of our idea of Beauty and Virtue, when he 
 asks, as he does in page 118, cc what should make 
 <c this difference in our approbations, if all appro- 
 " bation or sense of good be from prospect of ad- 
 cc vantage? Do not inanimate objects promote our 
 (t advantage as well as benevolent persons who do 
 " us offices of kindness and friendship ? Should we 
 " not have the same endearing sentiments toward 
 " both ? Or only the same cold opinion of ad van- 
 " tage in both." We have given above the reason 
 of those different approbations without being 
 obliged (as this author supposes) to have recourse 
 to an innate moral sense, or a certain natural de- 
 termination of the mind, in order to account for 
 this difference. But to proceed. 
 
 9. Mankind, by the constitution of their being, 
 are determined to pursue happiness and to shun 
 misery, as we have shewn above; and for enabling 
 them to do this, God, who in all his proceedings 
 shews he ever consults his creatures happiness in 
 the best manner possible, hath given them under- 
 standing to direct them to such objects, actions, 
 Sec. c. as are fitted to procure the one, and to pre- 
 vent the other. And experience lets them see, 
 that, as dependent creatures, and of limited capa- 
 cities, a great part of their happiness will arise 
 from the regular and social, as a great part of their 
 misery from the untoward and perverse, concur- 
 rence of each others acts. Reason therefore tells 
 them, that coming into the world with the same 
 
( 102 ) 
 
 natural powers, and, which is more, with an equal 
 right to the exercise of them, no one individual 
 can have a right to offices of kindness from others 
 which those others have not as much right to from 
 him in return, that is, they \have all a right (pro- 
 vided they act as reasonable beings were designed 
 by their Creator they should act) to one another's 
 assistance in promoting each other's happiness al- 
 ternately. Whence supposing them constituted in 
 a manner that A shall have the same reasonable 
 expectations of favours from B as B hath from'A, 
 it necessarily follows that A hath the same right to 
 B's favours as B hath to A's. Consequently who- 
 ever acts with a view to another's happiness, in so 
 doing acquires a right to the means in that others 
 power of contributing to his again, that is, (for I 
 would be always understood so to mean) on condi- 
 tion they act conformably to their Creator's will, 
 or as Beings who, he intends, should secure their 
 happiness in the most effectual manner. And what 
 reason requires should be done, are we by consti- 
 tution led to do, (though this constitution be of 
 our own acquiring,) for I must ever look upon as a 
 means of happiness, and approve, him, who pro- 
 motes mine though in this he has his own princi- 
 pally in view, that is, proposes to excite me by 
 such particular act of beneficence to pay the same 
 regard to his happiness when he shall have occa- 
 sion for it, and myself be in circumstances to shew 
 it. And approbation of voluntary means of hap- 
 piness implies in it, as hath been more than once 
 observed, a disposition of making those means hap- 
 py in return. And though there be (which proves 
 the source of much disorder and embarassment as 
 to conducting human affairs on a principle of 
 right) a great, still it is hoped it is not a general, 
 
( 103 ) 
 
 deviation in practice from this rule, yet, as a con- 
 formity to it tends in its natural consequence to 
 mutual security and happiness, on this considera- 
 tion it makes for the general interest of mankind 
 to enforce the observance of it upon all without 
 distinction by such arguments as reason and com- 
 mon experience will suggest. And from hence, 
 as will appear more fully by and by, arises the al- 
 most universal approbation of such a conduct, that 
 is, of receiving and returning acts of munificence 
 annongst all orders and conditions of men, begin- 
 ning in the early years of infancy (being so taught 
 by those who have had the care of their bringing 
 up) and continued through the several intermedi- 
 ate states of youth and mature life down to the 
 latest of old age. Hence this corollary, 
 
 10. Whoever performs an action with a view 
 to obtain some certain end, hath a right to the end 
 for which such action was pursued: and conse- 
 quently every action merits that for the acquiring 
 which it was first undertaken This on supposition 
 that those acts are directed in conformity with the 
 intention of the Author of Nature; and not other- 
 wise. 
 
 11. The diiFerence betwixt our approbation 
 and disapprobation of voluntary and involuntary 
 means of happiness and misery, and from whence 
 this difference arises, hath been shewn above. 
 That particular thing therefore (be it quality, 
 mode, or adjunct) which entitles A promoting B's 
 happiness to- B's approbation, that is, to a disposi- 
 tion in B (included, as before, in the approbation 
 of voluntary means of happiness) to a disposition, 
 I say, in B of returning A's kind action, I call the 
 merit of A, or rather the merit of such an action. 
 Merit therefore is the right we have to the appro- 
 
( 104 ) 
 
 bation of others from our voluntarily contributing 
 to their happiness, though it be in order to influ- 
 ence them to use the like good offices toward us in 
 return. 
 
 12. Though our desires and aversions for any 
 object, action, and event do not directly rise upon 
 our volition of them, yet if that particular object, 
 &c. be once considered by us under the notion of a 
 means of happiness or misery, such consideration 
 (if no prior contrary association intervenes to pre- 
 vent it) will by degrees excite desire or aversion as 
 such object respects either one or the other. For, 
 agreeably to a former observation, whatever is sup- 
 posed to make a part of our happiness and in our 
 power to obtain, that we must desire : and what- 
 ever is likely to make a part of our misery, that 
 we shall necessarily have an aversion to. Such de- 
 sire and aversion are immediately consequent upon 
 our make and frame. But, as an exception to this, 
 (which was the reason of inserting the foregoing 
 parenthesis) it must be observed, that having once 
 formed our minds, by association, to the liking of 
 voluntary means of happiness, and consequently to 
 the love of justice, truth, faithfulness, c. it is not 
 possible we should approve a breach of those moral 
 qualities, or love the agent, though our own happi- 
 neas be promoted in ever so great a degree by it; 
 because it is both absurd and contradictory to sup- 
 pose, that two opposite affections and tendencies 
 of will should Subsist at the same time together, 
 but that one will be a negation of the other. And 
 were this consistent, which it is not, yet two con- 
 trary and opposite determinations of minds, like 
 contrary and opposite motions in the body (which 
 possibly they may be the cause or effect of) en- 
 countering each other, will, if their moments be 
 
( 105 ) 
 
 equal, destroy one another -, if unequal, the 
 stronger will overpower the weaker, and its re- 
 maining force be the difference, or excess of one 
 above the other. 
 
 13. It hath been shewn, how the notion of vo- 
 luntary means of happiness, when reflected on, pro- 
 duces in our minds an approbation of them ; a love 
 of the agent; and satisfaction and complacency in 
 his success ; and that the consideration of voluntary 
 means of misery produces in the mind quite con- 
 trary effects, contrary sentiments and dispositions 
 towards the agent. It hath been likewise shewn, 
 how our approbation and disapprobation of those 
 means is originally founded on a sense of private, 
 personal happiness, though we afterwards approve 
 and disapprove characters, love and hate moral 
 representations, vi7*tuous and vicious forms, and cer- 
 tain species of public good or ill, without any res- 
 pect had to or connecting them with our happi- 
 ness, which is no ways concerned in exciting one 
 or the other, the reason of which has been also 
 given above. Whence we gather, that though no 
 affection of any kind can originally arise from any 
 other source than that of self-love, yet may we 
 have the desire of the happiness of others, without 
 conceiving such happiness as the means of ours, con- 
 trary to the opinion and express assertion of the 
 author of the Essay upon the Nature and Conduct 
 of the Passions, who maintains (page 18th, 19th,) 
 that if this were the case, that is, if our approba- 
 tion and disapprobation flowed solely from this 
 fountain, we might then be hired to love or hate any 
 sorts of persons, to be angry ', jealous, or compassion- 
 ate as we can be engaged into external actions , since, 
 as we took notice before, no two contrary affections 
 Vol. 2. o 
 
( 106 ) 
 
 can exist at the same time; or, in other words, that 
 when love or hatred towards any character has 
 once taken possession of the mind, its opposite can 
 have no place there. For I must repeat it again, 
 that though approbation and disapprobation, love 
 or hatred, can at first proceed from no principle 
 but that of self-love, yet have we shewn how we 
 may, and actually do, love or hate characters with- 
 out once considering our own happiness as any 
 ways, or in any degree, promoted or impeded by 
 them. 
 
 14. Gratitude, shame, anger, &c. are so many 
 several modifications of mind, taking their rise from 
 the natural tendency each of them is apprehended 
 to have to the promotion of happiness, and the pre- 
 vention of misery : which different states the mind 
 voluntarily (though the sensations attending those 
 different states, with the consequent active habits 
 formed upon them, be necessary and unavoidable) 
 which states, I say, the mind voluntarily puts her- 
 self into, or she annexes them to certain particular 
 actions, as the probable means of acquiring plea- 
 sure and avoiding pain. And this may be ac- 
 counted for in the following manner. 
 
 15. When I have received a favour from an- 
 other which I had no pretensions to, the most likely 
 means to continue him in my interest, as also to 
 engage others into it, are to shew by some outward 
 act a willingness of returning the favour in a way 
 most acceptable to my benefactor; and by connect- 
 ing this propension of the mind to the idea of a 
 kindness received, they become in such manner as- 
 sociated, that we can never read, hear, or think of 
 one without being affected with the other* and dis- 
 posed to shew it; that is, the idea of a favour re- 
 ceived, or the pleasure arising from the reflection 
 
upon it, is ever attended with that particular modi- 
 fication we first annexed to the receipt of good 
 offices. And it is this, and nothing else, which 
 has given rise to that received opinion among mo- 
 ralists of there being a manifest congruity, or, in 
 the language of others, a certain moral fitness be- 
 twixt our ideas of bounty and gratitude, from 
 which fitness, or agreement of ideas, results men's 
 obligation to acts both of one and the other ; but 
 whatever obligation men may think themselves 
 under to be grateful, it is wholly owing to this as- 
 sociation which we either make ourselves, or learn 
 of others. 
 
 16. It deserves to be taken notice of, that 
 there is a pleasure usually accompanying this parti- 
 cular modification we shew towards our benefactor, 
 distinct from such modification, and founded on 
 the view or expectation of him, or others, interest- 
 ing themselves again by means of it in our behalf. 
 For that this pleasure is not the same with the dis- 
 position, or a sensation attending it as a proper 
 cause or eifect, is evident from hence, that suppos- 
 ing B to have done A some good office, but with 
 assurances at the same time of his intention not 
 to concern himself any more in regard to him or 
 his happiness, in this case A indeed may manifest 
 such a disposition as before-mentioned, or a beha- 
 viour in every respect suitable to it, (and reason 
 will tell him it is necessary he should do so, in order 
 to influence others in his favour) yet will he feel 
 no pleasure in expressing that, his gratitude, or have 
 any great affection for his benefactor. The persua- 
 sion most men are taught to live under, of it being 
 at all times their duty to promote the happiness of 
 all within their reach, gives them a right to such 
 
( 108 ) 
 
 expectations, and makes them dislike and condemn 
 a conduct which interferes with those views. The 
 truth is, the pleasure we experience in gratitude is 
 wholly grounded on the supposition that our be- 
 nefactor has our happiness as much at heart as ever, 
 and when any such opportunity offers will pay the 
 like regard as formerly to it. For as we have 
 shewn above, the means of happiness, whenever 
 viewed by the mind, have a present pleasure at- 
 tending them proportioned to the quantity ex- 
 pected in possession. 
 
 17. When a man has designedly done me a dis- 
 kindness, either by impairing my happiness, or in 
 hindering the further advancement of it, or with 
 breaking in upon my rights of one kind or other, 
 if I would deter such a one from repeating the like, 
 it is necessary I shew a disposition of making re- 
 prisals. And by joining this propension of mind 
 to the idea of an injury received, we are sure to 
 shew it upon every intended slight or offence which 
 is oifered us. And this modification of mind I call 
 anger, which is always accompanied with painful 
 and uneasy sensations on account of the injury done 
 us, that is, for the pain we suffer, or the happiness 
 we part with. This association, if kept within 
 proper limits, is of admirable use in a system of 
 beings capable of injuring each other, and who are 
 oftentimes led on by inclination, and more com- 
 monly by interest, to do it, on account of frequent 
 interferings of desires in respect of the same th ngs. 
 This disposition, when continued long after the 
 occasion of its rising is past and over, or when the 
 object of it is ready to make us suitable satisfaction 
 for the damage we have sustained, at the same 
 time offering proper security for his future behavi- 
 
( 109 ) 
 
 our, is called revenge. A disposition the most 
 hateful, as it is the most destructive in it^> conse- 
 quences of any that is formed. 
 
 18. Since our happiness depends in great mea- 
 sure on the concurrence of others, and since no- 
 thing can induce them to concur with us to the ac- 
 quisition of it so much as the esteem they have for 
 us, and as this esteem is chiefly obtained by our 
 good name, or the reputation we hold in life ; there- 
 fore the acquiring or losing a good name, &c. is, in 
 effect, the acquiring or losing happiness, and very 
 nearly in the same proportion. And to this it is 
 owing, that persons of all ranks are so exquisitely 
 jealous of any attempts that may be made to de- 
 preciate their character; some resolutely venturing 
 their lives in defence of it, when it is either at- 
 tacked or but liable to be so. 
 
 1 9. We have shewn above that all parts of the 
 body capable of moving, or of being moved, do ever 
 vary their site conformably to the devices and re- 
 solves of the soul; and this, by a fixed unchang3- 
 able law obtaining in, and resulting from, the pre- 
 sent constitution of things. The consciousness 
 therefore of being guilty of some certain vice, or 
 of having done what is mean, base, and dishonour- 
 able, that is, of not having acted up to the dignity 
 of our beings and of the relation we stand in to 
 society, or below the character we bear in life, and 
 what might reasonably be expected from us, the 
 consciousness of all or each of those, as means of 
 lessening our merit, and so losing us the esteem of 
 others, joined to our desire of shewing a suitable 
 resentment against such practices, and our concern 
 for having been engaged in them, this state of 
 mind, I say, with such perturbations and purposes, 
 Will necessarily be attended with motions in the 
 
( "0 ) 
 
 body answering the nature, quality and degree of 
 them. And this is what we call shame ; which al- 
 ways discovers itself on the commission of any 
 enormity likely to be brought to light Any one 
 who has been conversant with children, and at- 
 tended to and remarked upon the rise and growth 
 of associations in them, and the means they use, in 
 the various acquirements they make, may easily 
 trace out the time when this passion begun to shew 
 itself, and how and in what manner it first oper- 
 ated. For, before they are taught it, or shewn the 
 difference there is in actions, they seem perfectly 
 indifferent both to shame and its contrary. 
 
 20. There is an uneasiness in shame distinct 
 from that concern reason enjoins, or, rather, which 
 we are taught to shew by an exterior significant 
 behaviour, founded 'on an apprehension of the vici- 
 ous act-. losing us the esteem of others. For the 
 loss of happiness (as we have shewn) must be pre- 
 sent pain and misery. And therefore the loss of 
 esteem (which is a means of happiness) must ne- 
 cessarily be attended with uneasiness proportioned 
 in degree to the esteem it loses us. 
 
 21. The reason of making this modification 
 at first attendant on any vicious act is, we see, in 
 order to preserve the esteem of others, apprehended 
 as a mean of happiness, and which we are likely to 
 lose by such particular act : consequently, when 
 men pay no regard to this esteem, and are indiffer- 
 ent whether they have it or have it not, the associ- 
 ation gradually weakens, at length totally subsides, 
 and another of a contrary nature and quality takes 
 its place. And this is the case of those who go 
 uniformly on in a course of fraud, lying, debau- 
 chery, or any other species of naughtiness, without 
 feeling any check or controul from the virtuous 
 
( 111 ) 
 
 principle intended by our Creator to be acquired by 
 us as we advance in years. And such whose wills 
 are obstinately bent towards mischief, and seem in- 
 capable of being reclaimed, are in common language 
 said to have lost all shame. 
 
 %%. It has been observed above, how a great 
 part of our happiness and misery (arising from the 
 acts of others variously affecting us) follows their 
 esteem and disesteem ; this esteem and disesteem, 
 as hath been likewise remarked, depends very much 
 on our good or bad character in life. This charac- 
 ter is founded on our doing publicly useful, laud- 
 able, &c. actions, or the contrary. Add to this ; 
 that heroic courage, or an undoubted resolution to 
 defend ourselves and the society (of which we are 
 members) from the unjust attacks of its enemies ; 
 and an inflexible adherence to the interests of vir- 
 tue, in all difficult instances, and under many trying 
 temptations of apostacy, are truly great and benefi- 
 cial qualities, and, in this view, will necessarily en- 
 title us to large measures of public esteem. Hence 
 the strong desire of being possessed of such senti- 
 ments and principles, and by consequence, of being- 
 thought the authors of those actions which, in the 
 nature of an effect, flow from them, as also of shew- 
 ing a suitable resentment against those who seize 
 every opportunity of ascribing the contrary ways 
 of thinking, determining, and acting to us. And 
 on this is founded our sense of honour, which, ia 
 its proper acceptation, denotes the right we have 
 to the esteem of others for the services we have 
 done, or are in capacity and disposition of "doing, 
 to mankind at those particular junctures, or when 
 certain circumstances render such offices of ours 
 both seasonable and necessary. For the truest 
 bravery ever consists in timely adapting those serv- 
 
ices to the pressing exigences of the society to 
 which we belong, and in directing all our pursuits 
 to the promotion of public happiness without any 
 deviation, if possible, whatever. 
 
 23. A, by his situation in the world, finds 
 himself liable to many cross accidents and sufferings, 
 arising either from the natural course of things, or 
 from the unsociable, inconsistent behaviour of vo- 
 luntary agents. He finds it also very much in the 
 power of his fellow creatures to contribute towards 
 his relief in those circumstances. But since A 
 hath no room to expect others should pay any re- 
 gard to his afflictions, unless he shews some concern 
 for theirs, with a disposition to relieve them; reason 
 therefore bids him, or, as it commonly happens, he 
 is taught to join this disposition of mind to the 
 sight, hearing, &c. of the miseries of others. And, 
 the association now made, A can never think of 
 those distresses without being affected by them, 
 that is, the sight, sound, or reading of the miseries 
 of others, or a review of them in our minds, pro- 
 duces that particular sentiment, disposition, Sec. 
 which either reason recommended, or we were in- 
 structed to manifest upon such occasions. This 
 disposition is constantly attended with great un- 
 easiness, with much sorrow and dejection -of mind 
 on account of our being so many ways subject to 
 the same common sufferings : the thought of our 
 own liableness to the like misfortunes, creates in us 
 great concern, and many suspicious fears, at such 
 spectacles of woe and misery. 
 
 24. The reader is desired to take notice, that 
 a difference in the sight, hearing, or recollection of 
 a word, causes a different motion of the nerves, and 
 consequently a difference in the sensation produced 
 by it. Thus, for instance, our pity and compassion, 
 
( us ) 
 
 and the motions in the body answering to them, 
 ever vary according to the light in which the mi- 
 serable object is seen, heard, or reflected on by us 
 Most people, I believe, come by this association 
 in the following way : a child at the first sight of 
 a person in distress, seems affected with surprise and 
 astonishment, more than pity and compassion, at 
 the object before him : the uncommonness of the 
 phenomenon strikes the young tender mind with a 
 mixture of fear and wonder. This is one of the 
 primary passions in the human soul, which ever 
 shews itself on the first appearance of an unusual 
 object, or of some unusual circumstance attending 
 it. But endeavour to make the child once under- 
 stand what the other feels, explain his case the best 
 you can to him, and tell him to bemoan the distress 
 he sees and be concerned for it, and lastly, let him 
 be made acquainted that as he is exposed to the 
 like disagreeable occurrences, so, if he does all he 
 can to lessen the griefs of others, they will use the 
 same endeavours to ease him of his ; and you thus 
 lay the foundation of an association, which, by like 
 continued repetitions, strengthened with the re- 
 flections he makes on its expediency, as he advances 
 in years, becomes at length perfectly completed. 
 
 25. I might go on to instance, in generosity, 
 ambition, envy, and all the other various determina- 
 tions of mind, whatever 'names they go by, and 
 shew that none of them are, as some pretend all of 
 them to be, originally implanted in our nature, but 
 are of our own acquiring, and purely an effect of 
 the work of the understanding, or, which is gene- 
 rally the case, what we have been taught by others. 
 They are certain dispositions of mind which reason, 
 or the practice of others bringing us by degrees to 
 Vol. 2.] p 
 
aft imitation of the like, shew us were necessary to 
 be joined to certain actions, in order to influence 
 the behaviour of others with regard to our happi- 
 ness and misery; which connection ever after sub- 
 sisting, hath been the occasion of some men's think- 
 ing, and of others maintaining, that our minds 
 were naturally pleased with certain actions, and 
 displeased with others, prior to all consideration on 
 the effects they led to; forgetting that we had 
 formed and fashioned them so ourselves. But in 
 attending to the manner in which we have hitherto 
 proceeded, the reader will be directed to the true 
 origin, nature and extent of all our desires and 
 aversions, with the various modifications of each, 
 "whether respecting voluntary or involuntary means 
 of happiness and misery. 
 
 26. The doctrine of association, as explained 
 above, enables us also to account for order, beauty, 
 parental affection, love of virtue, and the like, 
 without presupposing, in the words of the author 
 above-cited, a certain innate moral sense as neces- 
 sary to solve the principal actions of human life. 
 
 27- Upon observing certain forms and situa- 
 tions of things to be more conducive in their kind 
 to private happiness than others, arises our appro- 
 bation of them ; and from this approbation, neces- 
 sarily connected with every real or apprehended 
 means of happiness, results the pleasure we take in 
 them, that is, the means of pleasure have a pre- 
 sent pleasure, &c. as above. And they and plea- 
 sure being associated, we cannot view such forms 
 without being agreeably affected with them. And 
 we are not only pleased with the proportions and 
 arrangements of things which make for our own 
 private happiness, but also with those which tend 
 to the good of that society to which we belong, or 
 
the perfection of the system of which we are parts. 
 The reason is, hecause our happiness, as a particu- 
 lar, is contained in that of the whole. And by 
 reason of those forms and pleasure ever keeping 
 together, are we, by degrees, insensibly led to ab- 
 stract the order of things from their conveniency, 
 and to make order something real and independent 
 on our sense of happiness, or what gives pleasure 
 absolutely and of itself. Whereas in fact it re- 
 ceives all its force and efficacy on men's minds, 
 from a consideration of its tendency to private and 
 public conveniency connected, as a means, with 
 private and public happiness. 
 
 28. Should it be asked, supposing the delight 
 we feel from the contemplation of order be origi- 
 nally founded on a sense of public utility, whence 
 comes it that we are so agreeably charmed with 
 the sight of magnificent palaces and majestic edi- 
 fices, when those of less extent and charge might 
 be every way as convenient and equally answer the 
 end, it not being the magnitude, but the site of the 
 various parts, their relation to, and dependence on, 
 each other, which constitutes the conveniency of 
 any particular form ? Does not this then seem to 
 shew, that we have a taste independent on, and in 
 some cases distinct from private utility? But this 
 I presume may be accounted for on supposition that 
 private happiness is the true source of all approba- 
 tion. The reason is this. The greater power we 
 have, the more are we thought to have the means 
 of happiness and misery at our disposal, or we can 
 oblige other beings to act in concurrence with our f*^ 
 designs. Hence the thirst after power, and, which 
 is its immediate consequence, the desire of doing 
 such things as are great and uncommon, or of being 
 thought possessed of it. And this of course gives 
 
rise to a pleasure in the performance of such acts 
 as lie beyond the common reach of mankind. 
 And from hence we deduce our first ideas of gran- 
 deur, majesty, c. and being taught as we grow 
 up to admire what is stately and magnificent, and 
 to be pleased with these figures and adjustments of 
 things as are connected with our greatest good, the 
 association keeps insensibly forming till in time it 
 receives such further degrees of strength as to 
 settle in a confirmed habit. What is grand and 
 uncommon never fails to raise admiration, and a 
 regular well-proportioned form is sure to give plea- 
 sure in each successive contemplation, if not too 
 often repeated; see article 31, section 2. 
 
 29. Be it further observed, that in forms of 
 this size, it is not the largeness or magnificence of 
 the parts, but the justness of their proportions to 
 one another and to the whole plan, or their conspir- 
 ation with the design of the founder, or with the 
 established rules of architecture, which we admire; 
 for supposing them defective in any of those views, 
 we are no more delighted with the appearance than 
 with the appearance of an irregular pile of building 
 thrown together by chance, or of a heap of timber, 
 stones, &c. amassed without art or contrivance; 
 that is, they are approved of as means to an end. 
 There is one thing that makes a sensible alter- 
 ation in the case, which is, an unsuitableness or dis- 
 proportion betwixt the stateliness of the edifice 
 and the abilities of the proprietor ; for if the for- 
 mer falls short of, or exceeds, the circumstances of 
 the other, it diminishes the satisfaction we should 
 otherwise take in it; that is, we do not look upon 
 it as a proper means to an end. 
 
 30. Order, site, proportion, &c. therefore, in 
 whatever light we view them (and they are all 
 
but relative ideas) are approved of as means to an 
 end, which confirms the truth of our general po- 
 sition, that all approbation is from a sense or pros- 
 pect of happiness. 
 
 31. We find by experience that certain linea- 
 ments, features, &c. are indications of certain good 
 qualities and dispositions of mind: and having be- 
 forehand, by association, formed our minds to the 
 love of voluntary means of happiness, we are apt to 
 be charmed with persons at first sight, glance, &c. 
 without once considering and having in view the 
 end for which those features were once approved. 
 r Whence we conclude beauty to be something real, 
 absolute and positive. 
 
 32. Most people, I believe, have ideas of cer- 
 tain forms, &c. in their minds, by which their future 
 choice of things and persons is to be determined, 
 so far as they have the means of determining in 
 their own power. And according as those forms 
 (which whether men frame them themselves, or 
 being made to their hands they become fixed there 
 by imitating of others, is not material) and accord- 
 ing, I say, as those forms differ in men's minds, 
 will some be pleased with this particular shape, 
 size, complexion, c. others with that j and to this 
 is owing almost that infinite variety of tastes so 
 observable in the world, that the very same things 
 which some stile beautiful shall be construed a de- 
 formity by others. Which contrariety of opinion 
 is a demonstrative proof that beauty is nothing po- 
 sitive and independent, but wholly arbitrary and 
 relative to our perceiving faculty; which faculty 
 likewise is of our own creating. 
 
 33. Though the Deity, in forming mankind 
 mutually dependent on each other, causes it to be 
 their duty to provide- for each others happiness ac- 
 
cording as they find themselves able to do it, yet 
 does he expect that this provision be made in man- 
 ner and degree suited to the nature of that depend- 
 ency. Thus, for instance, parents being instru- 
 ments in God's hands of their children coming into 
 being, he requires them in a particular manner to 
 concur with him to their well-being, or more than 
 others of equal circumstances : and parents also, 
 having learnt from others that it is their duty to 
 love their children, and behave towards them in all 
 instances suitably to what such affection implies : 
 So in annexing this disposition of mind to our 
 children's little interests, and ouv carriage towards 
 them, the idea of them never occurs but with this 
 disposition attending it ; and dropping out of their 
 minds the ground, motive, or principle on which 
 their desires after their children's happiness was 
 first founded, parents esteem the affection natural 
 and act from it as such. Add to this, the consi- 
 deration of their being derived from, and so, in a 
 sense, a part of ourselves, and that after we are 
 gone we shall live in the posterity we leave behind 
 us, such like reflections as those, I say, greatly 
 strengthen the association, and the concomitant 
 sensations become proportionably more intense. 
 
 34. It deserves our further notice, that the re- 
 turns which children make as they grow up, and 
 they expressing their gratitude in a manner suit- 
 able to their tender years (which from their in- 
 fancy they are taught to do) or, in other words, 
 that the sense of kindnesses alternately received 
 and acknowledged, and the current of good offices 
 and grateful dispositions continually reciprocating, 
 mightily endear parents and children to one an- 
 other; encrease the quantity of love, of tenderness, 
 and affection on both sides. And the exceeding 
 
great strength of "this affection, or the height to 
 which in many instances it rises, is thought by some 
 an unanswerable argument of its being natural; 
 whereas it may be accounted for from an association 
 
 of ideas. That this supposed innate affection 
 
 is, in fact, adventitious, and only the effect of an 
 association, is further confirmed by the fondness and 
 endearing arts of behaviour of nurses, and of such 
 as have adopted children for their own, whose af- 
 fection and tenderness in behalf of those under 
 their care, is as great as if they had been really 
 descended from them, and many times greater than 
 that of parents towards their offspring. But few 
 there are, I believe, who have not both seen and 
 read of such instances as those. 
 
 35. Knowledge being necessary to shew what 
 particular actions conduce to happiness, and what 
 not, and to point out the different tendencies and 
 relations which different things have to one an- 
 other, produces in our minds an approbation of it ; 
 for that which discovers to us how such an end may 
 be obtained, is itself, in the nature of a mean, and 
 consequently will be approved by us ; approbation, 
 as before, includes a desire of it ; desire an applica- 
 tion to it ; application produces a discovery ; an4 
 the discovery (because desire is gratified, and a 
 means of happiness obtained) is accompanied with 
 pleasure. Hence the connection of pleasure with 
 knowledge. And to this association are we in- 
 debted for all these amazing discoveries and im- 
 provements, which from time to time have been 
 made in geometry, physics, morality, &c. and which 
 will be continued on yet to greater degrees of per- 
 fection. To this we owe a Newton, a Clark, a 
 Locke, a Wollaston and a Warburton, whose writ- 
 ings will ever be in the highest esteem so long as 
 
( 120 ) 
 
 good sense and a taste for literature are to be found 
 in the world : the pleasure attending the discovery 
 of every prior unknown truth constantly engaging 
 the mind in fresh enquiries, and leading her on after 
 new acquisitions. 
 
 36. It is proper also to observe, that man at 
 his first setting out in search after knowledge, does 
 it not so much for the sake of its shewing him the 
 road to happiness, as its being, by the common prac- 
 tice of the world, made a means of happiness itself. 
 And it is with a view to this that most men, I be- 
 lieve, engage at first in their pursuits after it. For 
 the further advances a man makes in any particular 
 science, the greater esteem he acquires, and the 
 more merit he has in the eye of the world : and 
 these are certain steps to happiness. There is one 
 thing further I would also take notice of, that the 
 more important the truth, or the greater the diffi- 
 culty in its investigation, the more exquisite the 
 pleasure which results from the discovery ; the rea- 
 son is, in such cases we think ourselves entitled to 
 larger measures of public esteem, or the greater our 
 merit is, the consciousness of which will be attended 
 with proportionable pleasure. Not to mention 
 that knowledge, considered abstractly, is by some 
 thought to be the proper object of an intellectual 
 nature. But of this hereafter. 
 
 37. In this manner also we acquire a taste for 
 architecture, painting, engraving, music, and the like; 
 those, as all kinds of arts and sciences, were first 
 pursued under the notion of means of happiness, 
 till by association they became identified in the 
 manner described above, and the means were 
 turned into ends, and influence us accordingly. 
 
 38. The same may be said of our approbation 
 of virtue in general, or of any particular species of 
 
it. If men would live in ease and quiet to that 
 degree as to obtain the end their Creator had in 
 forming them, it is necessary they be secured from 
 violence and oppression on the one hand, and that 
 they have the current of each others acts flowing 
 in their favour on the other. By reflecting on the 
 natural tendencies and impressions, which certain 
 actions make upon the minds of voluntary means 
 of happiness and misery, man finds that in provid- 
 ing against the former, no pursuit or method of act- 
 ing so likely as a strict observance of the principle 
 of right in men's various intercourses one with an- 
 other: the general practice of benevolence in its 
 several branches can alone effect the latter. Hence 
 our approbation of those qualities as the surest 
 means of promoting and preserving happiness; and 
 hence the pleasure we feel in being possessed of 
 them ourselves, as also in seeing them in the pos- 
 session of others. And pleasure and they being 
 thus connected in our minds, the association ever 
 after continues. And being taught from our in- 
 fancy that it is the will of our common parent we 
 should, according to our sphere of acting, provide for 
 the general happiness, which, in his appointment of 
 things, is found to depend absolutely on the exer- 
 cise of all the various branches of virtue, the asso- 
 ciation grows stronger, and the pleasure proportion- 
 ally encreases. And as it is undeniably the inte- 
 rest, so has it been inviolably the custom of all 
 legislators to enforce the practice of those virtues 
 upon mankind ; to speak in their praise and com- 
 mendation; to annex pleasure, reputation and 
 honour as rewards properly due to them; to love 
 the agent and to behave towards him in a way 
 suitable to what such affection imports. And to 
 Vol. 2.] Q 
 
( 122 ) 
 
 this it is owing that we are so delighted in reading 
 acts of heroism, and hearing of men's inflexible 
 adherence to the interests of virtue in the most 
 trying instances, even when our own happiness is 
 in no shape liable to be affected by them. 
 
 39. Our approbation (with its concomitant 
 pleasing sensations) arising from being possessed 
 of goodness, faithfulness, justice, with the several 
 other moral qualities of less significancy and con- 
 sideration, or from a contemplation of the exercise 
 of them in others j and our disapprobation (with 
 its attendant painful sensations which ever follows 
 a sense of the violation) of those duties; this ap- 
 probation and disapprobation, with their concomi- 
 tant sensations are, we see, primarily founded on a 
 prospect of happiness ; and the consequent modi- 
 fications, love and hatred, owing to an association 
 of ideas either of our own making, or such as we 
 have learned from those whose duty it was so to 
 form and model our natures as we became capable 
 of it. Which pleasure and pain, connected with 
 our approbation and disapprobation of certain mo- 
 ral qualities, or the contrary, may in a secondary and 
 less proper sense by styled rewards and punishments 
 from the Deity, as he hath given us such a nature, 
 related us in that particular manner to things around 
 us, and so situated us among them, (and whose will 
 it is that we ever act conformably to what such na- 
 ture, relation, and situation shall require) as makes 
 it necessary for us to form those associations in a 
 manner agreeable to our dependent state. And in 
 this view, they actually infer God's administration 
 of government over the moral world by the distri- 
 bution of present rewards and punishments -, agree- 
 ably to the old maxim, quicquid est causa caus# cst 
 causa 
 
( 123 ) 
 
 40. And pleasure ever accompanying the pos* 
 session of those moral qualities, hath given occasion 
 for some writers to ascribe an immutable fitness, an 
 inherent worth, amiableness and excellency to the 
 exertion of them ; maintaining they oblige the 
 Deity to act in agreement with them, though as 
 superior to every thing or being whatever, he can 
 suffer no compulsion or restraint of any sort ; and 
 that they likewise constitute a law of nature to 
 man, who, whether we consider him in his sensible 
 or rational capacity (though in considering him 
 agreeably to what he is he property falls under the 
 notion of a compound) can have no other end in his 
 pursuits but his own private personal happiness, 
 or what appears to him to be such. And, to speak 
 the truth, goodness, veracity, faithfulness, and the 
 like, are but abstract ideas of the mind denoting the 
 several ways of acting which God, in the present 
 constitution of things, hath bound upon his crea- 
 tures, or made it necessary for them to observe in 
 order to be happy ; and do receive all, or most of 
 their intrinsic loveliness and binding force from an 
 association of ideas, sometimes made voluntarily, at 
 other times arising out of our circumstances. 
 
 41. We are now also able to account for that 
 internal obligation, we are by some supposed to lie 
 under to the constant practice of those virtues, in- 
 dependently on all consideration of their being ac- 
 cessary to our happiness, which, I will venture to 
 affirm, is only the effect of an association made in 
 favour of virtue in general, or of some particular 
 derivation from it. The fact is, we are so consti- 
 tuted as to have it in our power to acquire certain 
 associations, or rather those associations grow upon 
 us as we advance in years, which laying a bias upon 
 the mind, we cannot so far withdraw ourselves from 
 
( 124 ) 
 
 it but that in going against it, or in not conforming 
 to it, we condemn ourselves for so doing, or are un- 
 easy upon it. And from this, and no other source, 
 results the obligation they talk of. 
 
 42. It now falls properly in our way to take 
 notice how one kind of pleasure is the cause of 
 another, superior and better adapted in its nature to 
 the rising, governing faculties of the mind ; and 
 this the cause of another, and so on, each succeed- 
 ing kind surpassing the source from whence it 
 flowed. Sensible pleasure is what we all first per- 
 ceive, and is the basis on which the succeeding kinds 
 are laid. The power of perceiving it is truly na- 
 tural; and the pleasure is the necessary effect of our 
 make and constitution. The pleasure itself results 
 from an agreeableness betwixt some particular ob - 
 ject and organ of sense. To find out this agreea- 
 bleness of one with the other ; and to see that no 
 appetite be indulged so far as to be productive of 
 prepollent evil, or inconsistent with the gratification 
 of another more important ; to do this, I say, is the 
 proper province of reason, as it was the intendment 
 of our Creator in conferring the intellectual fa- 
 culties on such an order of creatures. The ex- 
 ercise therefore of those powers, in the acquisition 
 of such truths as relate to our own happiness, will 
 be accompanied with present pleasure, that is, the 
 means of pleasure have a present pleasure, &c. 
 which pleasure attending the discovery of particular 
 truths, engages some men's pursuits all their lives 
 long, even when that esteem which such know- 
 ledge was designed at first to procure is not at- 
 tended to, or thought of. This is confirmed by 
 multitudes of instances. Here then is another sort 
 of pleasure, the issue and effect indeed of some 
 principle in pursuit of sensible pleasure, but differ- 
 
( 125 ) 
 
 ent in kind from it; and this is properly called in- 
 tellectual pleasure, or the pleasure of truth, which 
 is found in fact to be superior to sensible pleasure, 
 though the exercise of those faculties which gave 
 rise to it be primarily conversant about the means 
 of attaining the other, or the pleasure of sense. 
 
 43. Mankind being created mutually depend- 
 ent, the happiness of each, as to this life, will be 
 best secured by his promoting theirs under the 
 reach of whose actions such individual more imme- 
 diately lies, or it will be the effect of acting con- 
 formably to justice, veracity, faithfulness, &c. 
 The observance of those moral qualities, therefore, 
 as means of future will be attended with present 
 pleasure. To which we may add, that this con- 
 formity, agreeably to the doctrine of association 
 above, will in time produce benevolent appetites, 
 public dispositions, love of a system, &c. whence 
 the source of moral pleasures, more excellent in 
 their kind than either intellectual or sensible ones, 
 and which will be pursued accordingly. And it 
 deserves our notice, that the means of gratifying 
 the benevolent appetites, or public affections, lie 
 more within our power than those of any other 
 class whatever: opportunities of doing good in one 
 shape or other presenting themselves from all quar- 
 ters about us; and supposing men's circumstances 
 never so mean, they will always have it much in 
 their power either to promote the happiness or to 
 alleviate the miseries of their fellow-creatures, at 
 some juncture or other. 
 
 44. There is another tie (stronger and more 
 binding than any yet mentioned) obliging us to 
 the practice of virtue, viz. the will of that being 
 who has our whole happiness and misery absolutely 
 at his disposal. For since nothing can recommend 
 
( 126 ) 
 
 us to his favour but our doing and avoiding such 
 things as we judge agreeable and disagreeable to 
 him, and which is much to be regarded, our do- 
 ing the one and avoiding the other out of a sense 
 of dependency on him, and with intentions to 
 please him ; so this conduct in man, or moral acts 
 performed upon a principle of obedience to the 
 will of God (which, in the strictest sense of the 
 word, is religion) this conduct, I say, as it is the 
 means of the greatest possible future happiness, 
 will be attended with the greatest possible present 
 pleasure. This also is another sort of pleasure, 
 rising in exquisiteness of sensation above the other, 
 though the principle from whence it sprouts and 
 by which it is enohled, is, in one sense, grafted on 
 the same stock with the foregoing; since the mat- 
 ter of acting is the same in both. And it happens 
 in this, as it falls out in all other kinds of action, 
 undertaken with a view to some particular end, 
 that we experience a certain sublime complacency 
 of mind, independently on all consideration of 
 those rewards the Deity hath annexed to the per- 
 formance of such moral duties, the prospect of ob- 
 taining which gave the first rise to this sort of 
 pleasure. 
 
 45. Whilst we are upon the subject of religi- 
 ons pleasure, it is proper to observe, that no small 
 fehare of the thinking man's uneasiness in life arises 
 irom the apprehension of what may affect him in 
 the future part of his existence, either by the ordi- 
 nary course of things, the behaviour of such whose 
 acts may directly or indirectly relate to him, or the 
 particular interposition of that Being to whom 
 every thing in nature is immediately subject. And 
 his uneasiness will ever be proportioned to the de- 
 gree in which his happiness is supposed to be in 
 
( 127 ) 
 
 danger of being impaired or his misery encreased 
 by them. But this is not the case of him who 
 lives in the belief, that his future and more lasting 
 interest is secured to him by his conduct under the 
 moral government of God which religion teaches. 
 For then this fear with its concomitant uneasiness 
 ceases. And the same frame of mind, and even- 
 ness of temper shall ever continue under all possible 
 changes of outward circumstances. And it is un- 
 questionably certain, that the man who lives under 
 such a sense of the divine administration, and re- 
 signs himself on all emergencies to the dispensa- 
 tions of Providence as just and equitable, is, of all 
 men living, the most happy. For however present 
 appearances be, or supposing ever so many cross 
 accidents turn up, he is still convinced in his mind 
 that the good man upon the whole will fare best, 
 and that the balance will be finally on the side of 
 virtue. And this is his comfort under all the pres- 
 sures of an adverse fortune, and what keeps up his 
 spirits and preserves him from falling into a state 
 of despondency; and a great comfort it must, in 
 truth, be, sufficient to bear him up against all re- 
 sistances in whatever shape they may appear against 
 him. And this is the man of God's condition. 
 He is always calm and serene within, however 
 ruffled and untoward things may seem without. 
 
 46, It hath been shesvn above on what the 
 difference betwixt our approbation of voluntary 
 and involuntary means of happiness is founded, 
 and how by association we are disposed to love the 
 agent, and be pleased with his happiness in propor- 
 tion to the good he hath done us, or hath been in 
 disposition of doing for us. Having then, by as- 
 sociation, formed our minds to the liking of volun- 
 tary means of happiness, how high must our ap- 
 
( 128 ) 
 
 probation and love rise towards that Being (pro- 
 vided we give due attention to him, and to his ad- 
 ministration of government over us) who is so be- 
 nevolently disposed towards the whole? And who 
 directs all his dispensations and acts in subserviency 
 to this grand end? And who hath so contrived our 
 nature and our duty, that infinite happiness, or ra- 
 ther an infinitely growing happiness, shall be the 
 necessary, genuine effect of finite services, if rightly 
 performed, and proceeding from proper principles ? 
 And what complacency and delight must flow into 
 and fill the breast of that man, who is conscious of 
 his having acted a suitable and becoming part in 
 the creation, and to the utmost of his power per- 
 formed the several duties of his station ; and this 
 out of a sense of dependency on his Creator, and 
 of solacing himself in his favour in return? And 
 from acting with a view to this end man will of 
 course arrive, by degrees, at that particular frame 
 and temper of mind, and such habits of virtue and 
 of the love of God will in time, by this means y be 
 acquired, as shall prove necessary materials of a 
 celestial happiness, and such a one in those circum- 
 stances cannot but be happy, though (were the 
 supposition possible, as it is not) it should be against 
 his inclination to be so. And the longer a rational 
 being dwells upon the contemplation of those 
 things, the more must he admire and be in love 
 with the divine perfections. His goodness (the 
 truest and most amiable ray of the divinity) jus- 
 tice, faithfulness, veracity, c. which delightful 
 employment one would think is enough to consti- 
 tute his heaven even whilst he was upon earth. 
 How beautiful and transporting, as it is a just 
 and genuine, representation of things is this 1 
 
47. It is an observation one cannot well avoid 
 making* that though man, in the intention of his 
 Creator, was. formed for that sort of happiness 
 which is commensurate to, and co-existent with, 
 his whole duration in being, and such as is best 
 adapted to the nature and progressive state of the 
 rational faculties, yet, by what hath been said, it 
 plainly appears, that this happiness cannot be ob- 
 tained immediately and at once ; but much time, 
 and thought, and active care are required on hi$ 
 part to come at this end* He can make but slow 
 advances towards it, and must proceed step by 
 step. The truth is, God hath put every man's 
 happiness, both as to its quantity and quality, in 
 a great measure within his own reach ; and as he 
 hath committed the acquisition and enlargement 
 of it to his trust, so hath he given him all proper 
 means for that purpose. A great deal of work, 
 therefore, is left for man to do. Much attention 
 and industry are requisite to keep the several facul- 
 ties of the mind ever directed and employed in 
 subserviency to this end. Associations must be 
 made in favour of virtue. Habits of acquiescence 
 in the ways of Providence, as right and equitable, 
 and of resignation to the will of God, in all in- 
 stances whatsoever, are necessary to be acquired. 
 Some sorts of means must be turned into ends, and 
 acquiesced in as such. From sensible pleasure he 
 must be led to the feeling of what is intellectual ; 
 and from intellectual to the perception of moral 
 pleasure ; and from moral pleasure to that arising 
 from the exercise of piety, and such moral virtues 
 as are practised upon a principle of obedience to 
 the will of God, that is, to the pleasures of reli- 
 gion. This is the summum boimm of a rational 
 Vol. 2.] n 
 
( ISO ) 
 
 creature, and what ought to be tiie ultimatum, of 
 all its aims and pursuits ; though, from what 
 hath been shewn in this and the foregoing sections, 
 it is evident he cannot arrive to it but by degrees, 
 that is, by means of the intermediate sources pre- 
 paring the way for, and laying the foundation of 
 this. 
 
 48. The reader will probably be before hand 
 with me in closing this section with reflections on 
 the excellency of the present frame of things, by 
 which man (provided he makes a right use of 
 them) is so effectually provided with all necessary 
 means of living comfortably here, and happy here- 
 after ; that there is no station he is brought into, 
 either in the common course of things, or by some 
 event arising out of an unexpected concurrence of 
 causes, but what, in time and by degrees, he can 
 qualify himself for ; his talents and means of act- 
 ing ever rising and advancing themselves as his cir- 
 cumstances improve, and holding proportion with 
 them. So true it is, that as our sphere of life is 
 enlarged, our capacities of filling it enlarges itself 
 likewise. Who doth not see that this description 
 of the human mind is more worthy the Divine 
 Architect, as it is every way better fitted for man, 
 than that which supposes him to have certain im- 
 planted appetities, necessarily determining him to 
 such and such actions, very unsuitable, probably, 
 in some cases, to one in liis situation! Because 
 in this view of human nature, whatever condition 
 such a one can be supposed placed in, it will ever 
 be in his power to form associations and acquire 
 habits proper for this condition. To have it there- 
 fore in our power to contract such a kind and num- 
 ber of them as best suit the ways of acting, and 
 the course of life in which we are engaged, and to 
 
{ 131 ) 
 
 be able to bend the powers both of body and mind 
 to the various offices of our station ; how much 
 better, I say, is this than to be tied down by cer- 
 tain instincts and impulses to one particular set of 
 objects, without having the ability to accommo- 
 date our desires to our circumstances, when we 
 cannot make our circumstances rise up to our de- 
 sires? That men should be entrusted with the 
 means of framing their own natures and disposi- 
 tions, and of adapting those in all cases to their 
 distributions and allotments in life. How graci- 
 ous the design of our Creator, in sending us into 
 the world with such capacities! And how emi- 
 nently do the marks of wisdom and goodness shine 
 forth in such a constitution ! 
 
 49. By attending to the process above, a man 
 cannot, if he would, avoid taking notice how the 
 selfish passions convert into benevolent ones, or 
 rather, how those affections and dispositions of 
 mind, which from self-love were annexed to certain 
 particular actions, come by degrees to be followed 
 for their own sakes, or on account of the pleasure 
 which they yield us, and so entirely influence our 
 practice as to be acquiesced in as ends. It is, with- 
 out dispute, a remarkable property of our nature 
 (if but rightly turned at first and improved after- 
 wards) to be ever advancing itself towards perfec- 
 tion, and to be laying up fresh stores and matter 
 of entertainment for its succeeding state of being. 
 
 SECTION 
 
( 132 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 I 
 
 .T now falls properly in the way to say 
 something about evil, and the manner of its en- 
 trance into the world. 
 
 1. If God be good, whence comes evil? is a 
 question of long standing, and what has puzzled 
 the greatest philosophers in all ages to frame such 
 an answer to as ingenuous minds could with satis- 
 faction acquiesce in. The apparent order and dis- 
 order, regularity and irregularity, presenting them- 
 selves in great variety from all quarters, gave rise to 
 that monstrous opinion of two eternal, independent 
 principles, of equal knowledge and power, but of 
 different dispositions and determinations of will, 
 being jointly concerned in the production of things; 
 benevolence, or the desire of communicating hap- 
 piness, being the primary perfection and sole excit- 
 ing cause of action in one, and malevolence, or the 
 desire of producing misery, the essential attribute 
 and moving ground, or reason of action, in the 
 other. The consequence was, the good Being be- 
 came the supposed cause of all the harmony and 
 happiness, the evil Being the author of all the mi- 
 sery and disorder, to be found in the world. This 
 opinion (which upon enquiry will no doubt appear 
 both irrational and absurd) many notwithstanding 
 
( 133 } 
 
 easily came into the belief of, as unable on any other 
 footing to account for the irregular appearances of 
 many of the works of nature, and the seeming in- 
 consistency of the dispensations of Providence with 
 the principle of right, in many instances, which 
 could not escape their observation. And though it 
 be difficult (and by some thought impossible) to 
 point out the true source from whence evil first 
 flowed into the world, yet, it is presumed, a pro- 
 bable account may be given of it, which I shall 
 lay before the reader, after having first observed, 
 
 2. That absolute perfection implies necessary 
 existence, or a sufficiency of ever continuing the 
 same without the concurrence of any other thing 
 for its support; a circumstance no ways compatible 
 with the notion of a created being, which con- 
 stantly supposes dependency on that which formed 
 it, as also on such other things with which its own 
 existence has a necessary connection. To speak 
 accurately on this head, it is necessary we distin- 
 guish betwixt absolute and relative perfection; 
 since what is perfect in one sense may not be so in 
 the other. An absolutely perfect creature is in- 
 deed a direct contradiction, absolute perfection of 
 any kind including complete independency. But 
 it is not conceivable how an independent attribute 
 should exist in a dependent subject. Can the at- 
 tribute be infinite, when the subject of its inhesion 
 as well as the other attributes inhering with it are 
 finite? This would make the attribute rise in excel- 
 lence above its subject; which is just the same ab- 
 surdity as to suppose that the effect may be more 
 perfect than its cause. In ascribing relative per- 
 fection to any thing, I would be understood to 
 mean its being furnished with such a nature, facul- 
 ties, and other means of subsisting, as are suitable 
 
( 134 ) 
 
 to its present state, and t6 the rank it holds in the 
 scale of existence. Man, for instance, is said to 
 be perfect in this sense, when he possesses those 
 powers of body and mind that his situation and 
 circumstances require he should be provided with, 
 and which fit him for the sphere he is to move in, 
 and with his endeavours will enable him to act up 
 to, and answer the character of such a creature. 
 This kind of perfection ever supposes dependency ; 
 dependency on him from whom creatures derive 
 their existence with the means of it ; and depen- 
 dency likewise on such other things as may assist 
 or obstruct them in the enjoyment of those means, 
 as also in the exercise of the powers necessary to 
 continue them in their present existences. 
 
 From the above we gather, 3. That absolute 
 perfection or all-sufficiency, is the sole prerogative 
 of the first great Cause of all things, and itself 
 incommunicable ; the reverse holds of all created 
 beings. The following, being self-evident truths, 
 may lie stiled axioms. 
 
 4. That which is sought and pursued for its 
 own sake is called an end ; which can be nothing 
 but pleasure. And that which leads to or brings 
 about this end is called a mean. 
 
 5. That which produces pleasure we stile a 
 good ; that which produces pain, an evil. 
 
 6. In ascribing good and evil to certain things, 
 or actions, we do not take them ourselves, nor 
 would we be understood by others to take them, 
 for any real entities or qualities inherent in external 
 natures, they being, in fact, no other than relative 
 ideas; altogether conversant about means, and 
 solely applicable to them. 
 
 7. Evil may be divided into two sorts, natural 
 and moral ; good also admits of the like division. 
 
8. Natural evil is founded on 
 
 which the various magnitudes and situations of the 
 parts of this system have to each other, or, it is the 
 necessary effect of the different constitutions of 
 things, when applied to one another in a certain 
 way. Moral evil arises from the behaviour of ra- 
 tional creatures among themselves, and is no other 
 than this natural evil voluntarily produced by one 
 rational, sensible being in another. 
 
 9. Diseases, wounds, bruises, and incision, 
 with the different sorts of infirmities affecting hu- 
 man bodies in various decrees, are the necessary 
 consequents of the laws of motion, as they obtain 
 in the material system, and therefore not to be pre- 
 vented without depriving the system of that direc- 
 tion which bodies in motion universally take and 
 inviolably observe; and the removal, or but the 
 least change, of this direction would be of incon- 
 ceivable detriment to the whole, as is obvious to 
 any one acquainted with the present laws of mo- 
 tion, and their admirable beneficial effects in this 
 our system. See archbishop King's incomparable 
 Essay on the Origin of Evil. 
 
 10. Natural evils therefore are necessarily con- 
 nected with all created material existences, and 
 what cannot be removed but by a total alteration 
 of the present order of things ; therefore unavoid- 
 able. 
 
 11. If, according to the definition given of it, 
 moral evil is no other than natural evil voluntarily 
 produced by one rational sensible being in another* 
 it will be asked, as it well may, how cornes this 
 propension to evil we find in the bulk of mankind, 
 and whence that contrariety of principles which 
 lead to contrary courses and pursuits, as the objects 
 answering them happen to come in our way? 
 
( 136 ) 
 
 since it is an opinion we firmly adhere to, that the 
 human mind originally was indifferent to, and un- 
 affected with, the contemplation of virtue and vice, 
 tijl habits of one or other were gradually acquired. 
 To which I answer, that as our merit and virtue, 
 so the vicipusness of our nature arises from associ- 
 ation, that is, either by making wrong associations 
 at first, or indulging such as were right in their first 
 formation to excess : instances of which shall be 
 now given. 
 
 12. Ambition, anger, &c. which are disposi- 
 tions growing out of certain circumstances in life, 
 and accompanying such and such particular acts, 
 as necessary to direct both our own, and the con- 
 duct of others, by being too often indulged acquire 
 an incompatibility with the end for which they 
 were formed. Anger, for example, though of ad- 
 mirable service in a system of beings capable of in- 
 juring each other, by frequent repetitions becomes 
 outrageous ; transports men beyond all bounds of 
 reason and equity; and without allowing them 
 room for reflection, and so to recover themselves, 
 hurries them into actions many times very fatal in 
 their consequences to all parties concerned, and 
 thus the association defeats its own end; or, in 
 other words, men have not so much in view deter- 
 ring the injurious person from the like practices in 
 times to come (which was the motive for forming 
 this association at first, and the gratifying it bey- 
 ond which cannot be justified) as the final ruin of 
 the offender, who, all circumstances considered, ap- 
 pears to be either not faulty, or the injury so slight 
 and trivial as it is fitting should be overlooked. 
 The same may be said of other associations made 
 with a view to prevent all encroachments upon 
 men's natural and acquired rights, which many 
 
( 137 ) 
 
 times influence us beyond, and in some cases con- 
 trary to, the end of their appointment, 
 
 13. Ambition, when kept within proper 
 bounds, and employed to noble, benevolent pur- 
 poses, is a most useful and beneficial association j 
 but if confined to private views, or indulged to too 
 great a degree, becomes the most destructive of any 
 in its effects. And as this association is capable of 
 doing, and in fact hath done, more good and hurt 
 (according as it is permitted to operate) to the 
 world than any other, the greatest care ought cer- 
 tainly to be taken, in giving it its first bias and di- 
 rection, and afterwards in guarding against all ex- 
 cess in the gratification of it. 
 
 14. If associations are formed at first, and 
 operate afterwards, mechanically, it cannot be, but 
 that they must acquire greater force, and become 
 more influential by long use and custom. For as 
 the oftener any body moves in the same track, the 
 smoother it grows; and the less resistance is made 
 to the body, and consequently the greater ease and 
 moment it moves with ; in like manner, the oftener 
 certain particular motions are excited in the body, 
 the greater facility either of moving or of being- 
 moved they acquire, that is, those motions, agreea- 
 bly to our former observation, produce one another 
 by a kind of absolute necessity, without, and, in 
 some instances, against the designs and intentions 
 of the soul. See articles 29, 30, 31, 32, section 
 the second, where we have shewn that the sensa- 
 tions .attending certain particular associations, will 
 be always growing weaker and less intense, whilst 
 the active habits formed upou them will be contin- 
 ually strengthening, and more and more disposing 
 the will to action. Thus we see how associations 
 
 Vol. 2.] s 
 
( 138 ) 
 
 Originally good and useful, by too frequent repeti- 
 tions become destructive and ruinous, and, in so 
 doing, defeat the end of their formation. 
 
 15. Oppression; injustice, cruelty, ingratitude, 
 with the whole tribe of inferior vices which minis- 
 ter unto them, most commonly take their rise from 
 a slight and imperfect consideration of things, gene- 
 rally occasioned by a too eager and immoderate 
 pursuit after riches and sensual pleasures on the 
 one hand, or by extreme poverty and want of most 
 of the necessaries of life on the other. And it is 
 the view of obtaining one, and avoiding the other 
 at all events, which hurries men on to transgress 
 the several duties of religion, and engages them 
 sooner or later in a course of rapine, fraud, blood- 
 shed, &c. so common to be met with in the history 
 of every age of the world. It is the not living 
 under a just and affecting sense of a Deity's ani- 
 madversion, which is the cause of all the disorder 
 and mischief that has been committed in the 
 world. 
 
 16. It should be also further observed, that 
 
 E resent pleasure, in determining men's election, 
 ath much the advantage of what is future. And 
 the reason is, either men are not fully convinced in 
 their minds of the reality of the pleasures of an- 
 other life, or they do not attend to them in a man- 
 ner to be affected by them. It being demonstra- 
 tive, that of two pleasures set in full view before 
 the mind, and the probability of possessing each 
 alike, the greater of course will be chosen ; it can- 
 not indeed be otherwise. Nor can pleasure, or the 
 means of it be, possibly, matter of indifrerency to 
 man, as we have shewn. But the fact is, the 
 pleasures of the other world being far out of sight, 
 are not so much thought of nor attended to as pre- 
 
( 139 ) 
 
 sent sensible ones be ; nor is it possible to have any 
 notion of them, unless by associations made in their 
 favour, we have, in this our probationary state, ac- 
 quired some taste and relish for them. And if the 
 case be thus, it is no wonder they act not with that 
 force which the other are found to do. What is 
 present, keeps up the mind's attention, and to a 
 great degree prevents her from reflecting on what 
 is to be. And this is one reason why motives of 
 future happiness (which religion holds out as pro- 
 per to work upon men's minds) is not in all in- 
 stances sufficient to secure an obedience to the rules 
 of virtue. Men who look not beyond the present 
 scene, and whose affections do all centre in the en- 
 joyment of the pleasing things of it, will not stick 
 to break through the ties of religion, and throw 
 down the fences of civil government; the better 
 to make themselves masters of as many of the 
 riches and entertainments of this life as they pos- 
 sibly can. The reason of which conduct may, I 
 think, be thus accounted for. 
 
 17. Man finds himself disposed to pursue hap- 
 piness and avoid misery at all adventures ; he finds 
 himself also in possession of such powers as will 
 enable him to obtain the one and prevent the other, 
 to a great degree at least. Supposing him there- 
 fore in quest of some certain end which he sees he 
 cannot attain on account of anothers lying in the 
 way to it, self-love, the only implanted principle 
 in his nature, will put him upon making all possible 
 efforts to remove this obstacle to his happiness, 
 and, if he cannot compass his end any other way, 
 will prompt him to destroy that other, unless this 
 principle be restrained by the persuasion of a 
 Deity's superintendance, in order to reward the 
 good, and to punish the bad, which is not here sup- 
 
posed to be the case. And reason, according to the 
 notion lie frames of its end and office, can be of no 
 other value than as it leads him to the object of all 
 his wishes, happiness, and to the enjoyment of 
 whatever good things could possibly be obtained 
 on this side the grave. Further; supposing one 
 man had it in his power to procure himself most 
 of the comforts of life, and this by distressing- 
 some of his fellow-creatures, which he sees he can 
 do with impunity, what is there in nature that 
 would keep him from it? It is true, mankind reason 
 .not thus with themselves, nor do they endeavour to 
 justify their conduct, by explaining it in such man- 
 ner as to throw the blame upon nature, or rather, 
 on its great Author -, but it is notorious that the 
 practice of a great many does but too well agree 
 with the above representation. It must be owned 
 (and I cannot say whether with more pleasure or 
 sorrow) that there is no nation in the world whose 
 members do not publicly profess to believe the 
 being of a God, and as publicly own the obligation 
 of those duties necessarily connected with their 
 belief and notion of him. And this must be mat- 
 ter of joy, that mankind are no where so far de- 
 generated in opinion but that the name of God is 
 still retained in their mouths : but it is as notori- 
 ous on the other hand (which must be the occasion 
 of grief to every one who has the honour of God 
 and the interest of religion at heart) that this is 
 only a mere verbal profession, without a"ny real, be- 
 neficial impression or good effect as to morals aris- 
 ing from it. And when men shew by their acti- 
 ons that they live under no sense of the divine 
 administration, to what other class or denomi- 
 nation than that of unbelievers can they pro- 
 perly be ranked ? Since we have no way of judging 
 
of men's inward sentiments but by their actions 
 and outward deportment. And of such a conduct 
 too many instances I am afraid may be found in 
 the world Granting the account above to be gen- 
 uine, it will be further strengthened by the follow- 
 ing consideration, viz. that when men have once 
 given into any particular way and habituated them- 
 selves in it, or rather familiarized it to them, such 
 then becomes easy and delightful to them. The 
 contrary associations in favour of "virtue in general, 
 or of some species of it in particular (if any such 
 have been formed) yield of course to those more 
 powerful ones; made so powerful indeed by many 
 repetitions. And of the^ferce of habits it is need- 
 less to say any thing, after what has been already 
 delivered concerning them, and is evident to any 
 one who is so unhappy as to be under the dominion 
 of bad habits of any kind. And though the pas- 
 sive impressions or sensations attending the indulg- 
 ence of the particular affections be always losing 
 something of their intenseness the oftener they are 
 repeated, yet the active habits formed upon such 
 impressions will be continually growing more con- 
 firmed, and insensibly acquiring greater force in de- 
 termining the will ; as hath often been observed. 
 
 18. Further; the circumstances in which some 
 men are born, or which they are brought into, ei- 
 ther by their own conduct or a long run of cross 
 untoward occurrences, are such, that if they would 
 live, it must be by great care and taking of pains. 
 The natural wants and necessities which all feel, 
 though in different degrees, lie heavy upon them, 
 nor can one of them be jemoved, nor the other sa- 
 tisfied, without engaging in, and bravely working 
 through, a variety of hardships and difficulties, 
 and undergoing much toil and painful drudgery. 
 
(142 ) 
 
 As also submitting (which still encreases the bur- 
 den) very often to such usage from those they have 
 to do with as is far from being agreeable, and what 
 in truth ought never to pass betwixt beings stand- 
 ing in the same unvaried relation to one common 
 Parent, who careth alike for all his children, pro- 
 vided they pay a like regard to his will. In such 
 a case, nothing can make those men's situation 
 tolerable without risquing their virtue, but the 
 lively and affecting sense of a better state of things 
 hereafter, and the being inured to industry in a de- 
 gree to have acquired habits of it, the doing which 
 in the early years of life is of great importance to 
 all, but particularly to those of low rank, which in 
 every community happens to be the bulk of its 
 members. In the degree either of which are want- 
 ing, are men so far in actual danger of deviating 
 from the rule of right, and so of losing their inno- 
 cence. And experience is ever shewing us how 
 strangely averse most men are to labour, particu- 
 larly those who have not before-hand acquainted 
 themselves with it, and in some measure rendered 
 it familiar to them. And with some of this com- 
 plexion it will never go down ; but they choose to 
 betake themselves, and in many cases actually do 
 betake themselves, to a course of fraud, rapine, 
 pillaging, and the like, which as it creates infinite 
 mischief in the world, and tends to throw every 
 thing into confusion, so it usually ends in the de- 
 struction of themselves, as the proper, genuine ef- 
 fect of their own behaviour. And this is another 
 source of moral evil and corruption. 
 
 1 9. To the foregoing may we subjoin the fol- 
 lowing reason, as the principal source from whence 
 proceeds all that taint and infection of our nature 
 which in all ages has been so much complained of, 
 
( 143 ) 
 
 viz. that a considerable part of mankind are trained 
 up from their cradles in the arts of tricking, de- 
 ceit, over-reaching one another, &c. which neces- 
 sarily in time opens the door for crimes of a more 
 enormous nature to enter in. Whence it is, that 
 such strong associations are made in favour of vice 
 in the first beginnings of life, that it is with extreme 
 difficulty they are broke afterwards. What enters 
 into and makes part of man's education sticks 
 close to him all his life long, and his future con- 
 duct is generally of a piece with his first setting 
 out. Only this difference is observable, that a 
 foundation being once laid in childhood for raising 
 associations upon, those particular ones which take 
 root and spring up at that time usually become 
 stronger and more confirmed than those of a later 
 date, supposing an equal care to have been taken 
 in the forming and directing of both. 
 
 20. It will probably be thought by some that 
 our account of the origin of evil agrees not with 
 that given by Moses, who, in his history of the 
 creation, represents it as first inflicted for the sake 
 of Adam's disobedience ; and to be the consequence 
 of it; by whose transgression human nature re- 
 ceived an infection which from that time to this 
 hath cleaved to it, and of such a kind too as ren- 
 ders every man at his first coming into the world 
 necessarily prone to evil, and averse from good. 
 In answer to this I observe, that fact is not to b* 
 disputed : the question is, are those appetites, de- 
 terminations of will, &c. which may properly be 
 stiled the mind's furniture acquired, or are they 
 not? If they be, how can the consequence be 
 avoided ? But let me be permitted to ask, might 
 not, on the fall, our whole frame undergo a prodi- 
 gious alteration? By virtue of this alteration might 
 
( 144 ) 
 
 not mankind become more susceptive of sensible 
 pleasures? which greater susceptivity, as we before 
 observed, would occasion external objects to act 
 with more vigour upon the percipient principle. 
 And if this be allowed, is it not conceivable how, 
 in consequence of this change, our compound 
 might be disposed to acquire insensibly the irascible 
 and concupiscible affections in greater degrees? 
 And might not the principle of self-love thereby 
 grow so strong as to operate in many instances 
 with an almost irresistible force? All this, I ima- 
 gine, is conceivable. It may then modestly put in 
 its plea to be admitted as a probability; more than 
 this it does not pretend to; less, it is presumed, 
 will not be denied it; decently, it cannot. 
 
 SECTION 
 
( 145 ) 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 moralists are of opinion that truth, 
 and not the common good or a disposition to pro- 
 mote it, ever determines the Deity in his conduct; 
 that his affection to its cause is so strong and bind- 
 ing, as will not admit him to depart from it in a 
 single instance, even supposing the creation was in 
 danger, and could not be secured without such a 
 deviation. 
 
 1. The same great things and greater (if pos- 
 sible) are ascribed by other writers to certain fit- 
 nesses, relations, proportions, &c. supposed prior to, 
 and independent on, but after enquiry will, I be- 
 lieve, be found subsequent to, and connected with, 
 the modal existences of things. It will, in the 
 first place, not be improper to examine how both 
 truths and relations come to be formed, and whence 
 the mind has her first notices and perceptions of 
 them, because knowing once their origin we shall 
 be able to declare what each of them will bear, 
 having predicated of it; and in what sense (if in 
 any sense either of them can be) they are a rule of 
 action to either the Deity or his creatures. And 
 this I shall do, having first premised the following 
 remark. 
 Vol. 8.] T 
 
( 146 ) 
 
 2. That supposing the Deity should make, 
 not the happiness of a whole system, but truth, or 
 the relations of things, the rule and measure, as al- 
 so the ground and motive of his actions, it would 
 destroy the most amiahle part of his character, 
 and take away the foundation on which our love 
 and leverence for him, with their concomitant dis- 
 positions, can only he justly laid, and gradually 
 grow up to a regular, well proportioned structure, 
 and by this means place him in the same light with 
 mechanical causes. For whoever it is that by an 
 act of his promotes my happiness, yet, if he had no 
 intention of doing it, I shall certainly view him 
 under the same prospect as I do any other involun- 
 tary means of happiness, and regard him accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 3. The reason why philosophers differ so 
 much in their searches after truth is, that they ar- 
 gue not from principles tried and approved by rea- 
 son, but from certain prejudices they have imbibed, 
 either in the course of their education, or by the 
 converse they have had with others ; and not ex- 
 amining as they keep laying in their stock of ma- 
 terials, whence they had acquired and picked them 
 up, they are apt to look upon them as self evident 
 principles, and not to be called in question. The 
 proper way, I humbly conceive, of arriving at 
 truth in our several disquisitions, is to trace up all 
 our notions, opinions, ways of thinking, &c. to the 
 time of their first existence, and to point out the 
 
 "manner in which we come at them, the shortest 
 and most effectual method of getting out of an 
 error being to know how we were first led into it. 
 
 4. We are so framed by the Author of nature, 
 that the percipient principle shall necessarily re- 
 ceive certain impressions from external objects, act- 
 
( "7 ) 
 
 ing upon the organs of sense : which impressions 
 some have stiled ideas, in the reception of which 
 the mind is altogether passive. And from the si- 
 milar structure (similar at least to all appearance) 
 of the organicai parts of men's bodies, we have 
 good reason to conclude that the same object pro- 
 duces the very same idea in all men's minds : but 
 "were it not to do so, yet as the same object always 
 leaves precisely the same impressions upon the 
 mind, (supposing no defect either in the medium 
 or the organ) of every individual, when men are 
 once agreed about a name to denote it by, they can 
 understand one another when they talk about it, 
 and are able to distinguish it from all others with 
 the same ease as if the idea the name stands for had 
 been exactly the same in the minds of all men, 
 because A knows no more what appearance the ob- 
 ject X makes in B's mind, than B knows what ap- 
 pearance it makes in A's. Allow but which, and 
 no confusion can possibly arise from those different 
 appearances, (supposing them different) since the 
 name the idea goes by, will be sure always to lead 
 them to the same object which excited it. 
 
 5. And the mind finding by experience that 
 objects from without differently affect her, so those 
 different impressions discover to us a difference in 
 the causes producing them : in the perception of 
 which difference consists our power of distinguish^ 
 ing things convenient from those inconvenient to 
 us, and which to a great degree we can choose or 
 avoid, agreeably to those various tendencies. And 
 it was excellently contrived by the all-wise God 
 that we should be able, from those different effects, 
 to discern betwixt things which differently make 
 for our preservation and happiness. 
 
 6. And as men perceive a difference in their 
 
( 148 ) 
 
 ideas, whence they infer a difference in the objects 
 exciting them, so the first thing they are busied 
 about is to invent names to convey their ideas to 
 others by. The annexing sounds to ideas, from 
 whence, by degrees, and after various improve- 
 ments upon them, results language, was, that men 
 might communicate their sentiments, with their re- 
 flections they make on them, to each other. For 
 as the species no otherwise subsists than by supply- 
 ing the wants, and the imparting of good offices 
 from one to another, in which view men's entrance 
 into society commences a necessary duty, so the 
 benevolent Author of this constitution hath, as it 
 became him, admirably fitted us for all the pur- 
 poses of a social life. He hath given us the power 
 of framing articulate sounds, and of making those 
 sounds the signs of our ideas, in doing which we 
 are enabled to make known our inward conceptions 
 to each other, and can discourse of things commo- 
 dious ar.d incommodious, both to ourselves and 
 others, and what is proper for beings in our circum- 
 stances to do or to avoid. 
 
 7. The mind is perfectly arbitrary in choosing 
 sounds to represent her ideas to others; there being 
 no more connection in nature betwixt one particu- 
 lar idea and sound than another; and therefore 
 what we now call green might as well have been 
 called blue, since the resemblance betwixt that sen- 
 sation and the sound green is just the same as be- 
 twixt it and the sound blue. 
 
 8. Since the design of names is to convey our 
 thoughts and ideas to others, and because every dis- 
 tinct motion of the nerves is a distinct idea, if every 
 distinct idea required a distinct name, it would be 
 impossible for the most fertile imagination to invent 
 names to stand for all of them; or, if this might be 
 
, . ... ( 149 ; 
 
 done, it would still be impossible for the memory 
 (though ever so tenacious) to relain them. Hence 
 the necessity of joining several ideas of the. same 
 quality together, and of combining them into one; 
 and afterwards giving it a general name. The art 
 the mind uses, and the method she observes in form- 
 ing general, abstract ideas, and in distinguishing 
 things into sorts, is as follows. 
 
 9 Amotig that variety of objects which af- 
 fect our senses, we perceive them to agree in soa^e 
 ideas which thev produce, and to disagree in others, 
 that is, the same and different ideas are alike pro- 
 duced from two -or moie particular objects, the ob- 
 ject A, for instance, producing some of the very 
 same si a) pie ideas which the object B does, and 
 some different from them. ' Now the mind passing 
 over those ideas in which two or more objects dif- 
 fer, makes choice of those in which- they agree, and 
 combines them into one complex idea: which idea 
 then becomes general, or it is made the representa- 
 tive of all others of the same sort; that is, it is con- 
 tained in, and may be predicated of more than one 
 particular thing, which general idea distinguishes 
 that particular thing to which it is applied, and 
 wherein it is iound, from all others, and is called the 
 essence of it. The essences of tnose things there- 
 fore we rank into sorts, can be nothing but the ge- 
 neral idea, or rather the name standing for that ge- 
 neral idea which we annex to thi gs so sorted. 
 .And this way the mind makes all her general ab- 
 stract ideas, vi?. by leaving out those ideas in which 
 particular things differ, and retaining those in 
 which there is an identity; which act of the mind is 
 called abstraction. And from general ideas once 
 made the mind proceeds to the making of more 
 general ones, which is ever done by setting aside 
 
those ideas in which particular substances differ, 
 and by collecting and connecting those in which 
 they agree.- In this manner we proceed from com- 
 plex ideas of individuals to the forming those of a 
 species 5 and frohi abstract ideas of a species to 
 those of a genus; and so on to a summum genus; 
 in which process we may observe that the same 
 complex idea shall itself be the idea both of a spe- 
 cies and genus, or, to speak with greater propriety, 
 a less or more generic term, according as it is con- 
 sidered with respect to things above or below the 
 rank it holds in the series, being a genus in regard 
 to things below and a species to those above itself. 
 Thus the complex idea, animal, is a genus or more 
 generic term in respect of man, in respect of body 
 or matter a species, or less generic term 
 
 10. From the above account of the nature and 
 origin of abstract, general ideas, that is, of essences, 
 it appears, first, that they are wholly arbitrary, and 
 of our own making; secondly, that having no ex- 
 perience but what the mind gives them, they can 
 infer nothing further than a power she has of fram- 
 ing them, and tying them together by the name; 
 they are the workmanship of the understanding, 
 and creatures subsisting by its invention. 
 
 11. The mind in contemplating her ideas per- 
 ceives an immediate, intuitive connection and re- 
 pugnancy betwixt many of them ; whence it is 
 that the same and different properties may be as- 
 cribed to them, or they may be reciprocally af- 
 firmed and denied of one another. Thus rationa- 
 lity, for instance, may be affirmed of a man; white- 
 ness of snow ; and sweetness of sugar. And out 
 of this variety of ideas may be formed a great va- 
 riety of propositions : for observing perception, ra- 
 tionality, with a power of beginning motion, joined 
 
to a corporeal substance of a certain figure, to make 
 our complex idea, man, we get this proposition, or 
 we may say of him, that he is a sensible, rational, 
 self-motive, corporeal being ; and leaving out ra 
 tionality, we come by the more general abstract 
 idea, animal. 
 
 12. This agreement and disagreement of ideas 
 is, we see, relative to the order of nature, and de* 
 pendent on the will of the Deity, in having made 
 us with faculties for receiving them in the present 
 manner, and who might have so formed and mo- 
 delled us at first, if he pleased, that the same parti- 
 cles of matter which now produce the sensation we 
 style sweetness, might have excited the opposite 
 one in us. When things are once constituted in 
 some particular manner, they will necessarily be the 
 occasions of certain ideas, effects, &e. to sensible 
 beings. But still this necessity is subsequent to, 
 and flows from, the will of the Author of nature, 
 who might have produced things in any other man- 
 ner. Would but men attend to that course the 
 nfind takes in the drawing out and making propo- 
 sitions, they would be not so forward in ascribing 
 either eternity or independency to them : for they 
 are all of the mind's own forming, and ultimately 
 resolvible into that power by which she perceives 
 an idea that is there to be that very idea which it 
 is; and that two distinct ideas in the mind are not 
 one and the same. That two and two being equal 
 to four is a. necessary truth, means no more than 
 that the term two being appointed by common 
 consent to stand for, or represent the objects A and 
 B, or the ideas produced by them, are equal to, that 
 is, the very same with A and 13, or, in other words, 
 that every thing is what it is, and cannot differ 
 from itself. Conformably to this, the abstract 
 
( 152 ) 
 
 which we annex to the word virtue, being essen- 
 tially different from what we call vice, we sav, God 
 cannot make virtue vice, or vice virtue ; that is, he 
 cannot make two ideas the same whilst they are 
 supposed to be different. 
 
 13. The mistakes men run into on those oc- 
 casions seem to arise from hence : that finding 
 certain ideas to agree in their minds, and all other 
 men also agreed about them, they form certain pro- 
 positions out of them; abstract those from particu- 
 lar instances, after that from the present frame of 
 things, and then set them up in their minds as in- 
 dependent truths or standards, to which other truths 
 are to be referred, and by them tried; call them 
 eternal, necessary and immutable; though all of 
 their own making, as by the reflex act of the mind 
 they can make millions which never existed before, 
 nothing more being required for the doing of it but 
 a perception of the agreement and disagreement of 
 the ideas which compose the terms, and the joining 
 or separating those by signs, that is, the affirming 
 or denying one of another, as they happen to agree 
 or disagree in our minds ! truth being no other 
 than the expressing by outward signs, the con- 
 nection and repugnancy which our ideas have with 
 each other. The same method, though we little 
 think it, is observed in abstracting continuance, ex- 
 tension, &c. and thereby raise a thousand phantoms 
 we can never lay again, and delude ourselves by 
 our own abstraction. 
 
 14. With what propriety then can those truths 
 which are all of the mind's own making, and have 
 no existence out of it, be stiled any determiners of 
 the Deity r Shall the great Creator be bound by 
 plans of his creature's raising ? And obliged to suit 
 his acts to their hypotheses about him ? Besides, if 
 
( 153 ) 
 
 ideas which are posterior to the present constitution 
 of things, and arising from it, be neither eternal no? 
 necessary, how should propositions formed oat of 
 them be either one or the other ! When the Deity 
 out of an infinite number of systems, equally ef- 
 fective of his purpose, hath made choice of some 
 particular one, he ever directs his acts in subservi- 
 ency to it, and to the extending and improving 
 those effects which necessarily result from such an 
 establishment; and not only this, but requires that 
 his creatures do the same. And in his various dis- 
 pensations to them, as in their several intercourses 
 with each other, he wills that things, their habi- 
 tudes, and modes of existence be expressed (when 
 it is required they should be expressed by some out- 
 ward, significant act) according to what they are, 
 the uses they are intended for, and the effects they 
 have upon us ; because this is no other than a con- 
 tinuation of his design in creating at first. But can 
 any one say, that those effects, &c. lay a bias upon 
 his will, and necessarily determine him to choose 
 that system preferably to any other? that they 
 have a full, obligatory power, antecedent to all ap- 
 pointment human and divine? For who sees not, 
 that they are subsequent to, and connected with, 
 the present constitution of nature? And is not this 
 constitution dependent on the will of the author of 
 it ? In what sense therefore can they be said to be 
 obligatory upon it ? That he will constantly act in 
 agreement with, and furtherance of those effects, 
 &c. means no more than having once fixed his 
 choice he will ever persevere and abide by it. This 
 indeed is a consequential, but no antecedent neces- 
 sity of acting thus or thus; a necessity of acting 
 in a certain particular manner, when things are 
 Vol. 2. * 
 
( 154 ) 
 
 constituted in reference to a pre-ordained model ; 
 not a necessity of forming them by such model at 
 first. 
 
 15. Were all our ideas either entirely the same, 
 or wholly diverse, they would admit of no compa- 
 rison among themselves; for things essentially the 
 one or the other have nothing in se by which they 
 can be compared : all comparisons necessarily in- 
 cluding more or less. On making choice of two 
 or more ideas, and setting them aside of each other, 
 and viewing them together, results a relative idea, 
 provided the ideas compared have something in 
 common, that is, any modes of the same simple 
 idea. Thus every particular substance which pos- 
 sesses any one quality, mode, or circumstance of 
 existence in common with any other substance, 
 may in that respect be compared together. A line 
 of a certain length may be compared with another 
 line of any assignable length ; a surface with a 
 surface; and a solid body to every other of the 
 same dimensions. From which account of the 
 origin of relative ideas it plainly appears, first, that 
 they must be later than any other class of ideas, as 
 they arise from the comparison of two or more 
 ideas with one another, which in order of concep- 
 tion must be prior to them, as the cause to its ef- 
 fect. Secondly, that they are no real qualities ex- 
 isting in external natures, nor do they, like simple 
 ideas, presuppose the presence of objects ab extra, 
 as necessary to their production. Thirdly, that 
 they derive their existence from the perception the 
 mind has of two or more objects, and of their agree- 
 ment in some respects, and disagreement in others, 
 when compared together; and doing so, they owe 
 all the being they have to that perceptive faculty 
 of the mind. Fourthly, that they are consequent 
 
( 155 / 
 
 to the existence of things, and dependent on its 
 present modality; for supposing- things without us 
 should exist in another manner, or ourselves to he 
 differently made, we should have other perceptions 
 of them ; from whence would arise different rela- 
 tions. And if they are subsequent to the exist T 
 ence of things, and dependent on our manner of 
 perceiving them, they can neither be eternal nor 
 immutable. 
 
 16. In describing the method the mind takes 
 in forming propositions, and how she comes by her 
 present fund of relative ideas, one sees what little 
 reason there is for ascribing so great things, such a 
 wonder-working power, as some have done, to cer- 
 tain relations, fitnesses, &c. in making them, for in- 
 stance, independent on the Divine will, and a law 
 to it, that they are of so binding a nature, as sup- 
 posing the first cause once to act, he never could 
 but have been, and ever will be, tied down by them. 
 Whereas it appears by the account above, that all 
 relations are founded on comparison, that is, on an 
 act of the mind taking a view of her ideas, and 
 comparing their agreements raid disagreements to- 
 gether, and consequently can have no existence out 
 of it. 
 
 17. Relations of external objects are generally 
 ranked under the three following classes. First, 
 the relations of inanimate things to one another, in 
 respect of their quantity, site, figure, motion, &c. 
 Secondly, the relation of inanimate things to sensi- 
 ble beings, as means of happiness and misery to 
 them. Thirdly, the relation of rational beings a- 
 mongst themselves, founded on particular acts done 
 by one to another. 
 
 18. The first sort of relations cannot determine 
 the Deity at all. With such a Being there is no 
 
( 156 ) 
 
 difference betwixt this particular site, magnitude, 
 figure and mode of existence than that ; since his 
 happiness has nothing to do with one or the other ; 
 being complete in itself, and incapable both of en- 
 largement and diminution. 
 
 19. The relation of external objects to sensible 
 beings can be no motive for him to produce the last 
 with such natures, nor the first with that particular 
 tendency to the happiness or misery of those 
 beings, unless he be previously supposed of a bene- 
 volent or a malicious disposition. 
 
 20. Nor can the last division ever incline him 
 to frame a system of beings with such a reciprocal 
 dependency, and to depute them those powers, du- 
 ties, &c. as in consequence of certain actions done 
 or continued, they shall be related to one another 
 in the manner of superior or inferior, husband and 
 wife, parents and children, prince and subject, un- 
 less we suppose him acting with a view to some 
 certain end which requires such subsisting relations 
 betwixt the creatures he has formed. , 
 
 21. It is quite absurd to suppose the Deity, 
 who is all perfection in each of his attributes, de- 
 termined in his actions by any principle extrinsic 
 to his own nature : equally absurd is it also, to at- 
 tempt to draw out for man's use a scheme of natur- 
 al religion, or to deduce moral obligation from cer- 
 tain independent fitnesses, relations, truths, &c. or 
 indeed from any other principle but the divine will, 
 which in all systems of morality must ever be taken 
 in in order to make the duties thereof binding upon 
 mankind; and without supposing which, neither 
 the authors of those systems can (I am sure) be 
 consistent with themselves, nor with the subject 
 they are treating of. 
 
 22. The case lies herej from the connection 
 
( 157 ) 
 
 of the parts of this system we frame notions of cer- 
 tain relations, which we ahstract from the present 
 order of things, and make antecedent, and superior 
 to the Divine will itself. We then frame others of 
 the same kind, supposed to he in other systems, and 
 endue them all with the same imaginary eternity; 
 though all those arise wholly from what we find in 
 fact, without which we should have none, nor 
 would it have been in our power to have formed 
 any. Here we begin well, but go a great deal too 
 far, and, as I before observed, delude ourselves by 
 our abstraction. We sometimes come into the 
 same scheme by not going far enough, viz. we stop 
 at any prejudice, habit, association, &c. in favour of 
 virtue in general, or of some particular species of 
 it; and having forgot how such association was 
 first made, or habit acquired, or what use the thing 
 admired is really of; we call it absolutely fit, good 
 in itself, c. taking it for granted that we have ei- 
 ther intuitive knowledge, or an implanted sense of 
 its excellency, both which, did we trace all our as- 
 sociations to their infancy, would be found false in 
 fact. In this sense also the understanding does 
 often make its own objects: we create a thousand 
 truths every day, which have as good a title to eter- 
 nity as any others. 
 
 Since writing the above, the History of the 
 Works of the Learned, for August 1743, fell by ac- 
 cident into my hands, a writer in which seems more 
 than ordinarily zealous in defence of the independ- 
 ent scheme, that deduces all law and obligation 
 from certain abstract relations, supposed independ- 
 ent on and superior to the Divine will itself. The 
 most material arguments in favour of the said 
 scheme have, I presume, been already invalidated ; 
 and the strongest objections against the author of 
 
( 158 ) 
 
 the Notes to the Translation of archbishop King's 
 Essay on the Origin of Evil (against whom this 
 writer, though with much candour and a merciful 
 disposition, has planted the chief of his metaphy- 
 sical artillery) have been sufficiently removed be- 
 fore. I shall only therefore take notice of one or 
 two remarks, which he introduces with that air of 
 complacency as can only arise from his conviction 
 of the truth and validity, as of the justness and 
 propriety of what he offers. In speaking of rev er- 
 eiice as a duty, he observes, " that if there was no 
 *' fitness or unsuitableness in the thing itself, ante- 
 r< cedent to the will of God, or the happiness it 
 t produces; then God might originally nave an- 
 <c nexed the happiness of his creatures to their ir- 
 " reverence towards him; and bound that as a duty 
 " upon them ; if this appears an absurd or impossi- 
 <c ble supposition to those who deny any antecedent 
 ' fitness or unfitness in things, it is a plain giving 
 t up their cause; for what absurdity can there be 
 ** in? that supposition, if the suitableness ofrever- 
 " ence from a creature to the Creator depends 
 " solely on the Creator's will, and the happiness he 
 <e has made consequent upon it? Since his willing 
 "' the direct contrary would make irreverence as 
 " suitable to the nature of both." What is it we 
 usually mean by a creature's reverencing its Crea- 
 atoi? Is it not the having awful thoughts and ap- 
 prehensions of him in our minds? But whence does 
 this awe and dread of him arise? Not from the 
 ideas of creature and Creator considered merely as 
 such, that is, we are not so affected if we look no 
 further, but confine our thoughts to the act of cre- 
 ation only. Is it not more probable that it arises 
 from the sense of the power and majesty of that 
 Infinite Being, who not only first brought us into 
 
( 159 ) 
 
 existence, but whenever he pleases can turn us out 
 of it again, or make that existence miserable to us? 
 the consciousness of which cannot fail of making 
 us fearful of doing whatever we judge may be dis- 
 agreeable and offensive to him. 
 
 This gentleman maintains that if reverence be 
 a duty because God wills it, then might we have 
 willed irreverence to be such, or bound it as a duty 
 on his creatures. To which I answer, 
 
 The Deity in ail his actions must ever be sup- 
 posed to have some end in view. But since such 
 attributes as independence, eternity, infinite intel- 
 ligence, power, &c. do not necessarily imply their 
 being exerted in the production of things without, 
 no reason a priori can be offered why he should 
 ever act at all, or in one manner rather than an- 
 other. Suppose him of a benevolent disposition, 
 and his communications in such case will be being 
 and happiness: but why an independent Being 
 should oe benevolent rather than otherwise, no one 
 can tell. We cannot therefore come to a know* 
 ledge of the Creator's will otherwise than by con- 
 sulting his works, which upon the first survey of 
 them, and of their various habitudes and reciprocal 
 dependences, shew forth the benignity of their Au- 
 thor in an uncommon degree. Since then the im- 
 parting of happiness is the sole exciting principle 
 of action in the Deity, and because this happiness 
 is capable of being communicated different ways, 
 or as more systems than one may be equally sub- 
 servient to the Creator's views, it is certain, that if 
 will doth not, nothing else can, determine what 
 particular system shall exist. In this sense there- 
 fore, every system of beings that can be supposed 
 to exist, and the relations subsisting betwixt the 
 parts of it, are both one and the other certainly de- 
 
( 160 ) 
 
 pendent on the divine will. And to talk of rela- 
 tions as prior to, and independent on, such will 
 is a monstrous absurdity. But when a certain sys- 
 tem is once resolved upon, to suppose it might have 
 different relations, effects, &c. or the subjects of it 
 be under other and contrary obligations than what 
 do necessarily arise out of its establishment, is to 
 suppose the Author of it unwilling what he had 
 before willed, or that he shall reverse his first deter- 
 mination. Irreverence therefore could never be- 
 come a duty, even on our principle of deducing all 
 duties from a consideration of the divine will as 
 the only proper foundation on which they rest, and 
 into which all their binding force is ultimately re- 
 solvible. Reverence is enjoined by the Creator, 
 because such an affecting sense of the Supreme 
 Being, with whom lies the distribution of all our 
 happiness and misery, is essentially necessary to 
 secure the strict observance of such duties, on 
 the careful, regular discharge of^ ^which depends 
 both the being and happiness of his creatures. 
 And whatever are means to this end, the same be- 
 come proper duties of rational dependent beings ; 
 reverence is a duty, because God wills it; God wills 
 it, because it promotes his designs of creation. 
 Irreverence has the contrary tendency; therefore 
 is forbidden. 
 
 A little further on, this gentleman asks whe- 
 ther " reverence and gratitude to the Creator 
 " would not be always the duty of a creature, 
 " though they should suppose him unalterably 
 " placed in a state of the utmost happiness he 
 '* was capable of?" In respect of this question I 
 have the following observation to make. First, to 
 suppose a creature unalterably placed in the same 
 state, is to suppose that creature in a state of inde- 
 
penclence on its Creator, and, as such, is a self-des- 
 tructive notion ; for it is in effect to suppose it 
 created and not created at the same time. Second- 
 ly, it is of the nature and condition of a rational, 
 dependent being to be ever improving and advanc- 
 ing itself to greater degrees of perfection, by the 
 exercise of those powers belonging to it. But will 
 not its own continuance in being, and the contin- 
 uance of those its faculties and powers of action, 
 be constantly at the disposal of him on whom he is 
 dependent for them? This is self-evident. It is 
 absurd and contradictory therefore to suppose a 
 creature advanced to such a height as to be incapa- 
 ble of rising higher, or to be happy to that degree 
 as not to have it ever in his power to become more 
 so. Thirdly, which is the most material observa- 
 tion, but what is generally overlooked or not at- 
 tended to, the question is put and the appeal made 
 to beings known to be under the influence of this 
 association, who, being so, are prejudiced, and, in 
 that view, incompetent judges to be applied to in 
 determining an affair of this nature. For in a sys- 
 tem of beings constituted dependent on each other, 
 and absolutely so on the great Author of it, grati- 
 tude is a proper duty of those beings. And there- 
 fore whenever such a system once exists, that par- 
 ticular disposition will necessarily be formed, or it 
 will grow out of the circumstances of such beings. 
 The supposition therefore is such as destroys itself. 
 " The very notion of reward and punishment," 
 says this writer, t( implies an antecedent duty or 
 " obligation, the conforming or not conforming to 
 " which is the only ground of reward and punish- 
 cc nient : those therefore cannot be the foundation 
 Vol. 2.] x 
 
( 162 ) 
 
 " of the obligation ; though the translator supposes 
 c< all obligation to arise solely from a prospect of 
 <c them." Whenever this gentleman desires it, I 
 am ready to demonstrate, and, I hope, to his satis- 
 faction, that all obligation is founded on a view of 
 obtaining pleasure or of avoiding pain. And that 
 to talk of obligation without a motive, or of a mo- 
 tive distinct from happiness, is quite ridiculous. 
 At present I shall only take notice what it is in 
 actions which intitles a person to divine favour; 
 and that is, in short, the intention of the agent; 
 and therefore if in any performance we look not up 
 to God, and have his acceptance as one of the main 
 ends of our acting in view, however agreeable, as 
 to the material part of it, such act may be to him, 
 still we have done nothing that can in reason re- 
 commend us to his approbation, and give us a right 
 to a reward from him. Since nothing can in reason 
 recommend us to the one, and entitle us to the 
 other, but what was done out of sincere obedience 
 to his declarations, and with a full design or intent 
 to please him. The ingenious author of the notes 
 above mentioned has an observation much to our 
 present purpose. cc If we follow virtue," says he, 
 ' for its own sake, its native beauty and intrinsic 
 <{ goodness, we lose the true idea of it, we mistake 
 *' the means for the end ; and though we may in- 
 4{ deed qualify ourselves for an extraordinary re- 
 t ward from God for such a state of mind, yet we 
 " really do nothing to entitle ourselves to it; if we 
 < attain the good effects of every virtue in this 
 " life we have our reward ; if we do not, what 
 l claim have we to any rewards from God, whom 
 " we have never thought on in it, and consequently 
 <c whose servants we cannot be said to be? the only 
 
( 163 ) 
 
 t principle which can in reason recommend us to 
 c: His favour, must be the doing all things to his 
 ' glory, in obedience to his will, or in order to 
 <f please him.". 
 
 SECTION 
 
( 164 ) 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 OEVEl 
 
 KRAL causes concur to the forming 
 this benevolent temper, such are, first, greater sus- 
 ceptivity of the person in respect of external ob- 
 jects, with proportionably intense reflections upon 
 them ; secondly, associations in favour of certain 
 moral acts or particular virtues, which shall gradu- 
 ally, though insensibly, prepare the way for it, with 
 a repetition of those acts arising from such associa- 
 tions j thirdly, attention to the Deity, who requires 
 it as a duty of us to act in such manner as shall 
 necessarily end in acquiring this habit or constitu- 
 tion of mind. Those, like so many acting means, 
 conspire to the producing this temper or disposi- 
 tion. 
 
 2. The causes exciting love in an observer to- 
 wards free rational agents, are, similitude of man- 
 ners, and dispositions of mind analogous to the 
 leading qualities in the observer; agreeably to the 
 old observation, Like ever loves to associate with 
 like. Thus, for instance, a kind communicative 
 temper is always favourably disposed and tenderly 
 affected towards all benevolent characters wherever 
 existing, and will have opposite sentiments and 
 opposite affections for opposite natures and propen- 
 
( 16.5 ) 
 
 sities of will : and this in proportion to the mov- 
 ing, determining principle of acting in each. 
 
 3. The quantity of affection to any moral 
 agent will be constantly as the causes of love in 
 him drawn into the observer's benevolence, or, sub- 
 stituting the initial letters, A=CxB suppose the 
 affection to the object given, the product of the 
 causes of love in him by the benevolence of the ob- 
 server will ever be equal to it : and the affection to 
 the object, with the causes of love given the bene- 
 volence of the observer, will be the affection di- 
 vided by the causes of love, or JB=A ; and the af- 
 
 C 
 
 fection and benevolence known, the causes of love 
 \vill be the affection divided by the benevolence, or 
 C=A. When the causes of love in two objects 
 
 B 
 
 are equal, the affection to each will be as the quan- 
 tity of benevolence in the observers, or A==B-f- [ , 
 when the benevolence is equal, the affection will be 
 as the causes of love, or A=C-f | . 
 
 4. When the benevolence of two tempers 
 hath the same proportion, each to the other, as the 
 causes of love in the objects affecting them have, 
 that is, when the benevolence of one temper as 
 much exceeds the benevolence of the other as the 
 causes of love in the object answering this latter 
 temper surpass the causes of love answering to and 
 .affecting the former, the quantity of affection to 
 both objects will be alike. 
 
 5. When the causes of love and our attach- 
 ments to the objects are equal, our desires and pur- 
 suits after their happiness will be as the strength of 
 our benevolence. 
 
 6 Different objects contain different powers 
 x)f producing pleasure and pain in sensitive natures. 
 
( 166 ) 
 
 Consequently actions in pursuits of those different 
 objects have different tendencies to human happi- 
 ness and misery. The following general rules of 
 acting, and the propositions expressing the various 
 moments of good produced by them, universally 
 obtain in this our system. 
 
 7. In private pursuits, the moment of good is 
 in a compound ratio of the degrees of self love and 
 the abilities of the agent, or M=S x A; consequent- 
 ly, the product of the degrees of self-love by the 
 abilities of the agent expresses the moment. The 
 moment divided by self-love gives the abilities, that 
 is, A=Mj and the moment divided by the abilities 
 
 S 
 shews the self-love, or S=M. This will ever hold 
 
 A 
 of all actions undertaken on a private account. 
 
 8. When the degrees of self-love in two or 
 more agents are the same, the moments will be as 
 their abilities, or M=A. When the abilities are 
 equal, the moments will be as the strength of self- 
 love, or M=S. 
 
 9. When the two principles of self-love and 
 benevolence, the one innate, the other acquired, 
 concur in the same pursuit, the moment of good 
 will be as the sum of the degrees of self-love and 
 benevolence drawn into the abilities of the agent, 
 or M=S-f-B*A. The separate shares of each in 
 this production may be thus ascertained : the mo- 
 ment, as we see, is the product of the multiplica- 
 tion of the sums of self-love and benevolence by 
 the abilities, or M=SA-hBA ; the selfish princi- 
 ple is the moment divided by the abilities when 
 fcenevolence is Abstracted from it, or S=M 13; 
 
 A 
 the benevolence is the moment divided by the abi- 
 
( 167 ) 
 
 lilies when self-love is taken away, or B=M S; 
 
 A 
 
 and the moment divided by self-love and benevo- 
 lence gives the abilities, or A=M 
 
 S+B 
 
 10. When the two principles do not conspire, 
 but draw different and contrary ways, the moment 
 will be the excess of the stronger above the weaker 
 principle, or M = SA BA, supposing self-love the 
 strongest ; but taking bene violence for the highest 
 principle, it will be M=BA SA. 
 
 11. When the benevolence of two agents are 
 equal, the moments of good by each to the public 
 will be as their abilities. 
 
 12. When their abilities are equal, the mo- 
 ments will be as the strength of benevolence or 
 public love in each. Whence it follows, 
 
 13. That supposing the benevolence of two 
 agents to have the same proportion to each other 
 as their abilities, or when the benevolence of one as 
 much surpasses the benevolence of the other as the 
 abilities of this latter exceed those of the former, 
 their moments to the public will be the same and 
 equal. 
 
 14. In their pursuits after objects men's elec- 
 tions ought to be determined in the following man- 
 ner. When the degrees of good in different objects 
 are the same, our choice should be made in favour 
 of such as are the most likely to be obtained ; when 
 the probability of possessing two or more of them 
 is equal, those ought to be chosen which contain, 
 the greatest aggregate of good in the enjoyment. 
 
 15. The moral importance of actions, or their 
 moments to the public, will be in a compound ratio 
 of the number of enjoyers and of what each en- 
 joys from them, or l=NxQ; consequently when 
 
( 168 ) 
 
 the numbers are alike, the importance will be as the 
 quantity of happiness to each, and in equal quan- 
 tities, the importance will be as the numbers. 
 
 16. It is to be considered, that our actions are 
 not barely confined to the person for whom they 
 were principally designed, but they generally reach 
 further, and have a wider and more comprehensive 
 influence. One man may possibly be placed in 
 those circumstances that by a single act of mine he 
 shall be enabled to do the public the same advan- 
 tage, as it could have received from ten others, 
 who might likewise have been benefited by it; in 
 which sense, it is certain such particular act of mine 
 is of the same beneficial tendency and import as if 
 it had been directed to ten: and this shews, that 
 men's situation in life may occasion great alteration 
 in men's elections, and be a balance to numbers. 
 It teaches us also, how careful we ought to be in 
 searching after, and attending to the consequences 
 of any action, before we resolve and fix upon it, so 
 far as they are capable of being foreseen and traced 
 out, which many times all of them are not, as mix- 
 ing themselves with others, and so, both affecting 
 them, and being in return affected by them. No 
 one can certainly tell how far one individual act of 
 his shall extend, or what consexjuences may be 
 teeming in the womb of time, or how long it may 
 be before they are all brought forth; while which 
 be done the effects of such act cannot be said to be 
 entirely over. 
 
 17. All pleasure is relative to the faculty per- 
 ceiving it,' and is in a compound ratio of its intense- 
 ness and duration. Hence, in equal degrees of in-' 
 tenseness, the pleasure is as the duration; and in 
 equal durations, the pleasure is as the intenseness. 
 Consequently, when the intenseness of one pleasure 
 
( 169 ) 
 
 is to the in tenseness of another, as the duration of 
 this, is to the duration that, the pleasures, strictly 
 speaking, are equal, and it is perfectly indifferent 
 whether of them be chosen, provided man's exist- 
 ence is commensurate to each, and the enjoyment 
 of neither of them incompatible with the enjoy- 
 ment of others. Whence we see, that an infinitely 
 small pleasure may be preferable to an infinitely 
 great one, provided the duration of the former sur- 
 passes the duration of the latter in a greater ratio 
 than the intenseness of one exceeds the intenseness 
 of the other. This shews us it may be many times 
 prudent to postpone a very great pleasure to a very 
 small one, supposing their durations bear little or 
 no proportion to each others. 
 
 18. The intenseness of pleasure depends on 
 the quantity of good in the object, and the degrees 
 of susceptibility in the person affected. When the 
 susceptivities therefore of two persons are the same, 
 the intenseness is as the quantities of good in the 
 object; and in equal quantities, the intenseness is 
 as their susceptibility. 
 
 19. The duration of pleasure depends on the 
 constancy of the object acting, and of the subject 
 acted upon. A change in either of those necessa- 
 rily occasions a change in the duration of our 
 pleasures. 
 
 20. A creature is ultimately happy, the sum 
 of whose happiness surpasses the sum of its misery, 
 and to such an one existence must be deemed a 
 blessing. 
 
 21. A creature is perfectly happy when its 
 happiness is adequate to its capacities of enjoyment, 
 and commensurate with its existence; and a crea- 
 ture in this situation will be allowed to have ob- 
 
 Vol. 2.1 Y 
 
( 170 ) 
 
 tained the end of its being, on condition such ca- 
 pacities are every way suitable to the opportunities 
 it had both of making and enlarging them. 
 
 1TOIS. 
 
Man in quest of Himself: 
 
 OR A 
 
 DEFENCE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 INDIVIDUALITY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HUMAN MIND, OR SELF. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY 
 
 SOME REMAKS IN THE MONTHLY REVIEW 
 FOR JULY 1763, 
 
 BY CUTHBERT COMMENT, GENT. 
 
 TV ^ 
 
 \J3h-^h(iito ^ c ft* 
 
 They imagine Compounds to be somewhat really different from that 
 
 of which they are compounded } which is a very great mistake. 
 
 Clarke, Attrib. 6th Edit. 1725, page 53. 
 
 Endlessly separable parts are as really distinct Beings, notwithstand- 
 ing their contiguity, as if they had been at never so great a 
 distance from one another. 
 
 Ibid. p. 89. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 rillNTED FOR B. AND J. DODSLEY, IN FALL-MALL. 
 1763. 
 
 [Price One Shilling.'] 
 

 
MAN IN QUEST OF HIMSELF. 
 
 is an old observation, that nothing is 
 more difficult for a Man to know than himself; 
 insomuch that this science was thought unattain- 
 able without supernatural assistance ; for 
 
 From Heaven's high dome descended, KNOW THYSELF. 
 
 But then this was understood to respect the 
 knowledge of a man's character, sentiments, and 
 real motives of action ; nor was it ever esteemed 
 difficult to know his own person from that of an- 
 other, or from his cloaths, his hair or any thing else 
 belonging to him. Whereas a difficulty has been 
 lately started in ascertaining what is properly the 
 Man^ or to what the pronoun / ought to be ap- 
 plied. 
 
 The last Monthly Review for July 1763, has 
 made honourable mention of my Cousin and my- 
 self, and has interspersed therein some criticisms, 
 by way of admonition for our conduct : He may 
 see they are not lost upon us ; for we have profited 
 by them already in our title-page. We had pro- 
 
( 174 ) 
 
 ceected before upon Horace's antiquated rule, being 
 studious rather of producing fire out of srnoke, than 
 smoke out of a flash ; never reflecting, that since 
 the invention of gunpowder it is manifest the gun 
 can never do execution if the pan do not flash. 
 So to please him, I have put a little more powder 
 into the pan this time of charging : and we hope 
 he perceives by the look of the flash, that our shot 
 is not levelled against him, but against an opinion 
 he has advanced. For these two are very different 
 marks : people may differ in sentiment upon a spe- 
 culative point, and still be very good friends. And 
 indeed he has said so many obliging things of us, 
 far beyond our most sanguine expectation, that it 
 would be the height of imprudence to put him out 
 of humour with us, or attempt to lessen his charac- 
 ter : we rather wish his authority may be so great 
 with the public, as that they may give their voices 
 upon us according to his summing up the evidence 5 
 we shall be perfectly satisfied with the verdict. 
 
 Yet we shall observe in passing, that besides 
 his admonitions, he has been careful to instruct us 
 by his example too ; for, though he has allowed 
 my Author to have acquitted himself with polite- 
 ness, yet it seems this was not a politeness of the 
 right fashionable colour, admired in our great Me- 
 tropolis and the adjacent Borough; therefore he has 
 set us a pattern of the true genuine sort in the fol- 
 lowing expressions : Greatly deficient in physiologi- 
 cal knowledge; Very considerable blunders; 
 These very accurate philologists ; Indeedy friend, 
 you have here overlooked yourself; It is with equal 
 impropriety they talk. Now, we must needs ac- 
 knowledge these strains in the highest pitch of 
 modern perfection, because the like abound in the 
 North Briton and Cave of Famine, those celebrated 
 
( 175 ) 
 
 performances, which every true-horn Englishman 
 doats upon. But we are much afraid whether we 
 shall be able to copy after his example ; for it is 
 commonly observed, that nobody ever succeeds in 
 a thing he does not give his mind to ; but it hap- 
 pens unluckily that we find in ourselves no inclina- 
 tion to attain this modern genteelness : our ambition 
 prompts us rather to the Ridiculum than the Acre^ 
 and we should be proud if we could acquire a spark 
 of that old-fashioned politeness described by Per- 
 sius in one of his predecessors : 
 
 When Horace every foible touch'd with art, > 
 His smiling friend received him to his heart, 
 Pleas'd with the tickling probe, nor felt it smart. ) 
 The testy people too could patient stand, 
 While wip'd their follies by his skilful hand . 
 
 I do not know why he should take such dis- 
 tase at my button, unless perhaps that he saw his 
 own face in one part of it; and might be a little 
 chagrined to find, that I had not better maintained 
 the dignity of the noble branch of the Comments. 
 
 However, I have the pleasure to see this little 
 disappointment has not overcome his affection to a 
 relation ; for he has spoken of me in a very hand- 
 some manner, well becoming one Comment of an- 
 other : and with respect to my Author, whom he 
 will easily believe I must love as well as I do my- 
 self, he has proceeded with remarkable tenderness. 
 For it being absolutely necessary to find fault some- 
 where, because the Public, proceeding for once 
 upon a very right principle, That there can be no 
 person nor performance in this world complcatly 
 perfect, would not think him well qualified for his 
 pffice of Critic-General, if he did not find something 
 
( 176 ) 
 
 to blame in every piece he took in hand ; he has 
 kindly spared the main work, and fallen upon one 
 of my Notes, containing a matter no ways affect- 
 ing the argument carried on in the text. 
 
 But notwithstanding his good intention, so it 
 happens, that he has done us more mischief than 
 we flatter ourselves he designed. For the Indivi- 
 duality of the Mind was a principle Mr. Search had 
 depended upon to prove its unperishableness ; 
 which gave an opening to his enquiries concerning 
 the other world. Because his plan having confined 
 him to build solely upon the fund of natural rea- 
 son, he was not entitled to avail himself of the as- 
 surances given in the Gospel : but while it remained 
 uncertain whether our continuance was to last any 
 longer than this life, there was very little encou- 
 ragement to consider whether there were another 
 world or no : on the other hand, if it could be 
 shown from contemplation of, our Nature, that the 
 Mind is built to last for ever, then it would become 
 expedient to examine what is likely to befall her 
 hereafter, and whether any thing to be done at pre- 
 sent may affect her future condition. 
 
 Therefore my cousin exhorted me to endeavour 
 settling what is a Man's Self, and whether it may 
 have continuance after dissolution of the human 
 frame: not in contradiction to Mr. Monthly, with 
 whom we have no quarrel, but in defence of an ar- 
 ticle we conceive material, against whoever shall 
 attack it, or as a further explanation to such as 
 may not have fully comprehended our meaning. 
 
 But we must crave leave to make our defence 
 in our own way : and as Horace observes that every 
 animal places his dependence upon the arms Na- 
 ture has furnished him with, the Wolf never de- 
 fends himself with his heels, nor the Bull with his 
 
( 177 ) 
 
 teeth : so we, who it seems are excellent Philolo- 
 gists, though greatly deficient in physiological 
 knowledge, and for this reason do not clearly com- 
 prehend what is to he understood by physical and 
 metaphysical existence, palpable and impalpable 
 individuals, material and immaterial substance, as 
 handled by our opponent, may be allowed to avail 
 ourselves of that part where our greatest strength 
 lies. 
 
 Therefore, under the guidance of our Patron- 
 ess, who has helped us so well hitherto, we shall ob- 
 serve that Same is an equivocal term. If, upon 
 giving me a glass of wine, I should think it tasted 
 different from that you gave me half an hour before, 
 and you assure me it is the same wine, because you 
 poured it out of the very same bottle, I should rest 
 satisfied with the answer. But if a conjurer should 
 pretend to take out a glass of wine un mingled that 
 I had thrown into water, and upon his producing a 
 glass of pure wine I doubted whether it were the 
 same, if he should tell me, Yes, for he poured it 
 out of the same bottle, I should think he trifled 
 with me. 
 
 In like manner it may be said, that rich and 
 poor are all the same flesh and blood, or that every 
 stick of elder contains the same pithy substance. 
 Yet whoever says this does not imagine, that my 
 cookmaid and I have but one body, or the same 
 mass of blood between us : nor that one stick of 
 elder contains the same substance as twenty. 
 
 From hence we may see there are two sorts of 
 identity ; one wherein things are the same, in ap- 
 pearance and quality, and this we may call specific: 
 nevertheless they still remain numerically distinct; 
 as this egg is not the same with that, how much 
 Vol. 2.] z 
 
( 178 ) 
 
 soever it may be the same to the eye, or for any 
 uses we may have of it. 
 
 / Thus substances, as numerically distinguished, 
 never fluctuate nor change into one another; their 
 fluctuation is only of form or position upon their 
 entering into compositions of substances specifically 
 different. The same particles which were mould 
 last year, might afterwards have become grass, then 
 mutton, then human flesh, lastly, a flea or a mag- 
 got, and continue the same throughout all their 
 several migrations : so that what is a maggot now, 
 may have been part of a man, or a sheep, or a blade 
 of grass, or a clod of dirt. 
 
 Therefore if we consider man as the whole 
 composition of flesh, blood, bones, and humours, it 
 is plain he fluctuates and changes continually : for 
 if he be kept without victuals, his substance wastes 
 away, and is renewed again by proper nourishment : 
 so that how long soever he may continue the same 
 species of creature, he does not continue the same 
 substance in all its parts a week nor a day. Nor 
 was the Mr. Monthly who dealt so favourably with 
 us in July, the same with him that treated a friend 
 of ours with the like benignity in 1?55. 
 
 I have met with some who say they have no 
 idea of substance, because they cannot conceive 
 one devoid of all quality whatever; but this is not 
 the right way of going to work for conceiving it. 
 For there are some things we cannot apprehend 
 existing by themselves, though we may easily in 
 conjunction with others : a father cannot be without 
 a child ; there cannot be colour without figure, nor 
 figure without magnitude; yet the ideas of father 
 and son, of colour, figure and magnitude, are 
 clearly distinct. Nor, if we consider the matter 
 fairly, is it more easy to apprehend quality by itself 
 
( 179 ) 
 
 than substance. For can there be squareness with- 
 out something square, or redness without any thing 
 red? Or can there be a square or a red nothing, 
 any more than a substance without quality ? But 
 squareness and redness are only perceptions of the 
 mind ? What then? Should we suppose with Berke- 
 ley, they are not effects of the external causes we 
 ascribe them to, then are there no qualities without 
 us any more than there are substances : but if there 
 be real qualities producing the perceptions, then is 
 there a real something possessing the qualities. 
 It is true we may be sometimes deceived by appear- 
 ances of things that are not real, as when a man 
 sees apparitions : but though there be no substance 
 standing before him in the place where he appre- 
 hends it to be, yet there is a real substance some- 
 where, either in the eye, or the humours, or the 
 brain, causing the appearance. Even in the most 
 retired thoughts of the mind, whether we imagine 
 her to raise those thoughts by her own immediate 
 operation, then is she a substance possessing the 
 quality of impressing them ; or whether she uses 
 some organ of our internal material frame, as an 
 instrument to impress them by, then is the modifi- 
 cation of that organ the object we discern. 
 
 But the strongest idea of substance we may 
 have from ourselves, the knowledge whereof is more 
 certain than that of qualities. For how know we 
 the qualities are real, unless because we really per- 
 ceive them ? And if we are nothing real ourselves, 
 they cannot be really perceived by us : for it is the 
 hardest thing of all to conceive how any thing un- 
 real can really do or be really affected by any thing. 
 And this substance retains its existence when ex- 
 erting no quality, as in sound sleep. 
 
 Qualities continually change : a square piece 
 
( 180 1 
 
 of clay may be moulded into a round, warm water 
 may grow cold : but in all these changes something 
 still remains the same, and that can be none other 
 than the substance. When a quality goes off, it is 
 succeeded by another, as squareness in the clay by 
 some other figure, and warmth in the water by 
 coolness ; nor does the substance ever want a qua- 
 lity to invest it : but the quality upon being al- 
 tered does not fly off to some other substance, but 
 is absolutely lost j and may be regained without 
 being drawn from any other fund. 
 
 We come next to the term Individual; and 
 what does that import but something that cannot 
 be divided? Therefore to talk of every Individual 
 being a compound, is a palpable absurdity, a flat 
 contradiction, the same as an indivisible divisible, 
 or an uncompounded compound. Perhaps here our 
 Master will think us hopeful lads, beginning to 
 come forward in the modern politeness : but we 
 cannot arrogate so much merit yet ; for we do not 
 charge it upon him as a blunder or impropriety ; 
 and for this very good reason; because we could 
 not do so without hitting ourselves a slap on the 
 face. There were three young fellows once went 
 to see a fine garden : one of them spying another 
 pluck a peach, whispered the third, Pray is it right 
 to take a Gentleman's fruit without leave? Yes, 
 says he, it must certainly be right; because I have 
 a couple in iny pocket. So contradictions must 
 sometimes be proper, because Mr. Search uses one 
 in page 12, where he says, cc a man may have 
 " power when he has it not." But then we see 
 how he brings himself off by adding, " That is, he 
 " may have it in one sense while he wants it in an- 
 " other/' Now if we take the same method for 
 solving the other contradiction, perhaps we shall 
 
find It throw some light upon the argument in 
 hand. 
 
 Naturalists (I beg pardon, I mean Physiolo- 
 
 fists) distribute the productions of Nature into 
 inds, as animals, vegetables, fossils ; which they 
 subdivide into Species, as men, horses, sheep, &c. 
 Several further divisions are occasionally made un- 
 der these, as French, English, men grown, children, 
 and the like. But you cannot go lower than the 
 single bodies of each class, whose parts are joined 
 together, not to be separated without losing their 
 specific denomination, nor do we ever see them re- 
 united after separation. Therefore we call them 
 I?idividuals, because to us they appear such, and 
 may be esteemed such for any uses we have of them. 
 Yet this manner of distribution admits of se- 
 veral exceptions : in some species there are no indi- 
 viduals, such as Fire, Water, Oil ; because in all di- 
 visions of them discernible by our senses, they still 
 retain their specific qualities. Some individuals 
 may be multiplied into many ; an osier may be cut 
 into twenty twigs, each whereof is a distinct plant 
 of the same kind. Animals and vegetables receive 
 -their substance from parents of their kind, which 
 substance nevertheless loses its species during the 
 passage, and resumes it again afterwards : an egg is 
 never numbered in species with the bird that laid 
 it 5 but when hatched into a chicken, it ranks as 
 one among the poultry. Both species and indivi- 
 duals are often made by art : Punch, Beer, and 
 Mead are different kinds of liquor ; and when a 
 man takes an inventory of his houshold goods, he 
 can distinguish those of the same sort only by in- 
 dividuals j or if he draws off a pipe of wine, he must 
 drive in a cork to preserve each individual bottle 
 from growing vapid. Thus we see that both in 
 
( 182 ) 
 
 physiological and artificial estimation, Individual is 
 an arbitrary term, applied to things for our conve- 
 nience. 
 
 With regard to those species that have indivi- 
 duals, the term Existence or Being must belong to 
 them. A Man, being I suppose a palpable Indivi- 
 dual, will be allowed to have an Existence or Being 
 of his own, distinct from all other men. So you 
 will say the whole race of men has a Being and ex- 
 istence of its own, distinct from all other creatures. 
 Very true : but not distinct from the men compos- 
 ing it; nor has it another Being to be added to 
 trie number of theirs. The same will hold good of 
 any lesser collection of men ; as a Regiment, which 
 has not an additional Being over and above that of 
 the men, nor exists otherwise than by their exist- 
 ence, which nevertheless they have independent on 
 one another. For if Serjeant Bluff were annihila- 
 ted, Corporal Trim might still continue the same 
 Man he was ; but if all the men were annihilated, 
 what would become of the regiment ? 
 
 Nevertheless it is manifest that all these indi- 
 viduals, as our Corrector justly and properly ex- 
 presses it, are compounds, consisting of parts sub- 
 stantially and numerically distinct from each other : 
 so that the palpable substance, Man, is a collection 
 of many substances, as the Regiment was ; and has 
 existence no otherwise than that ; to wit, by the 
 existence of his parts. Were his hands annihilated, 
 his feet might remain the same Beings they were 
 before, as Trim might upon the destruction of 
 Bluff; but were all his parts annihilated, the Man 
 must utterly lose his Being. 
 
 Well, but his hands and feet are compounds 
 too, made up of the elements: therefore they have 
 no other existence than what belongs to the ele- 
 
( 183 ) 
 
 mcnts composing them. But what shall we say to 
 these elements ? for being a mere ignoramus in phy- 
 siological knowledge, 1 protest I do not know 
 what to make of them. I think I can feel earth, 
 water, air and fire, if they touch me in quantities 
 enough to affect my senses ; therefore they should 
 be palpable. But we are told at first they are im- 
 palpable existencies; and yet I am not sure of that 
 neither , for it is said afterwards, that if they fluc- 
 tuate and change into one another, they are no ex- 
 istencies at all, being devoid not only of palpable, 
 but of absolute and metaphysical existence, which 
 belongs to nothing besides God alone. 
 
 I shall not deny it possible the elements may 
 change into one another, but then this is a fluctua- 
 tion of form, or of essence, which seems all along 
 to have been mistaken for existence, not of sub- 
 stance: for it is impossible to conceive any particu- 
 lar substance should ever change into another sub- 
 stance, whether similar or of different kind. An 
 egg, by putrefaction and vegetation, may in process 
 of time become an apple ; but this egg can never 
 become that egg, nor that apple; nor can either egg 
 or apple ever lose their numerical existence, what- 
 ever various forms they pass through, or new essen- 
 ces they take. So if what now is earth once was 
 water, still it is the same substance diversely modi- 
 fied : nor can this drop of water ever be turned 
 into that drop, or that speck of dirt, by any fluc- 
 tuation whatever. 
 
 But if the elements may change, it must be by 
 a various disposition of their parts; therefore they 
 have parts: and I suppose it is understood, though 
 not expressed, that these parts have under parts, 
 and so on for ever. Which subintettigitur is neces- 
 sary to prove the non-existence of elements : for 
 
( 184 ) 
 
 since they be compounds, having no other existence 
 than that of their parts, nor these than of the un- 
 der parts composing them, we cannot make them 
 a title to existence, until we come to absolute In- 
 dividuals without any parts at all, which it is sug- 
 gested, are no-where to be found. 
 
 Before this was urged against us, it should 
 have been remembered what antagonists we were 
 contending with, namely, the Stratonic and Demo- 
 critic Atheists, who would not have pressed us so 
 closely : for they admitted Atoms absolutely indi- 
 visible, whereout the souls of men, and all other 
 productions were formed ; and held, that these. 
 Atoms were floating about in infinite space, distinct 
 and separate from each other, until by their colli- 
 sions 3 assortments, and adhesions, they ranged them- 
 selves into the compound bodies we see. Upon 
 this hypothesis, it is plain there was the same num- 
 ber of substances from all eternity there is now ; 
 and upon their clustering together, whether by 
 chance or necessity, nothing new, unless in kind 
 and quality, or essence, not in substance, could be 
 produced. Therefore the souls of Men could have 
 no distinct existence of their own, nor other than 
 that of the Atoms composing them : and upon 
 their dissolution, not a single Being would be lost; 
 any more than the King would lose a subject, that 
 is, a palpable substance upon disbanding a regi- 
 ment. Nevertheless these Atoms were a sufficient 
 foundation for the existence of what they com- 
 posed, their substance being that of the compounds 
 whereinto they entered. So that our argument, 
 however defective in proving our point to other 
 people, may still remain good ad hominem, upon the 
 occasion whereto we applied it. 
 
 Yet we need not want the like foundatiou 
 
( 185 ) 
 
 without availing ourselves of the Atheist's conces- 
 sion : for after all possible division of Matter, it 
 will continue Matter still ; nor can you reduce it to 
 nothing by any separation of parts whatever ; 
 whence it follows, that there are particles which 
 never were, nor ever will be smaller than they are. 
 These then may fairly be stiled Atoms actually, if 
 not potentially, indivisible. Nor is this repugnant 
 to the opinion now generally received among phy- 
 siologists, that all Matter is homogeneous ; all com- 
 pound bodies being made up of a Mater ia prima, 
 which is every where one and the same in kind and 
 quality, their various essences resulting from the 
 various assortments wherein to it is cast. 
 
 If it be said the particles of Materia prima 
 must have a right side and a left, separable, though 
 perhaps never actually separated from one another ; 
 this is more than we are warranted to assert. For 
 the most considerate persons have forborn to pro- 
 nounce peremptorily upon the divisibility of mattery 
 any further than that it is indefinite, that is, no- 
 magnitude can be assigned than which we may 
 be assured there cannot be a smaller. But divisibi- 
 lity absolutely infinite, has its difficulties as well as 
 finite : for upon that hypothesis, half an apple must 
 contain as many parts as the whole; for the half 
 containing infinite parts, nothing can be greater 
 than infinite; yet the other half containing the like 
 infinity, to say that the addition of them does not 
 encrease the number in the whole, seems as absurd 
 as to deny that two and two make four. Since 
 then we have not faculties to determine this point 
 with certainty, the evidence before us of bodies 
 existing, and of their having no further existence 
 beyond that of their parts, is a stronger proof that 
 Vol. 2.] A a 
 
( 186 ) 
 
 a stop must be put to divisibility somewhere, though 
 we cannot tell where, than our want of conception 
 of a particle without sides is of the contrary. For 
 neither our senses nor imagination can go beyond 
 a certain degree of minuteness ; how then do we 
 know what we might see or apprehend, were they 
 acute enough to discern or comprehend objects be- 
 low that degree. 
 
 However this be, it can scarce be doubted that 
 the matter, or first principle of bodies, has an ex- 
 istence of some sort or other, whether original or 
 derivative, it is no matter; and, that whatever 
 higher compositions are formed thereout, exist only 
 in the existence of that; because if the matter of 
 any body were annihilated, the existence of that 
 being withdrawn, the body would be no more. 
 Just as a Regiment exists only by the existence of 
 the men, of whatever kind it be belonging to 
 them, and upon their annihilation could exist no 
 more. 
 
 But it is alledged, that a Regiment has no 
 Being. Why? Because all compounds, according 
 to us, have no existence at all. Pray when did we 
 ever say so? Did you never hear of the Welshman, 
 who riding with a heavy portmanteau before him, 
 and perceiving his horse tire, took up the portman- 
 teau upon his own shoulders to ease the beast? 
 never considering that while the horse carried him 
 that bore the burthen, he carried that too : and if 
 there had been twenty men hoisted upon one an- 
 other, so long as the uppermost had the portman- 
 teau upon his shoulders, the horse would nave car- 
 ried the same weight as if it had lain upon his own 
 back. So while the component parts of bodies 
 exist, their existence runs through the composi- 
 tions vvhereinto they enter j and palpable Inclividu- 
 
( 187 ) 
 
 als, together with whatever Companies, Regiments, 
 Corporations, or other Compounds can be formed 
 of them, have as much existence as their primary 
 principles, because they have the very same. 
 Therefore we never denied a Regiment to have ex- 
 istence or Being; but only that it was a Being in 
 the singular number, distinct from that of the men, 
 and to be added to them. 
 
 We conceived it to be like a noun of number, 
 as a Gross, a Score, a Dozen, which, though entia 
 rationis in themselves, yet have a real existence 
 when applied to particular substances. For a dozen 
 of counters exist as really as a single one; if you 
 put the dozen into your pocket, you put in real 
 substance, not a shadow or mere imagination ; yet 
 you have not thirteen things there, to wit, twelve 
 counters and the dozen over and above. 
 
 You say, if a Regiment is no Being, neither is 
 man a Being ; and this you charge upon us as an 
 egregious oversight. But upon what principles does 
 the consequence follow ? Why, upon those of the 
 Atheists we were combating ; and was so far from 
 being an oversight, that the main stress of our ar- 
 gument lay in driving our Antagonists to the ab- 
 surd conclusion of making man to have no Being, 
 no distinct existence peculiar to himself; nor any 
 thing more than a regiment of atoms, admirably 
 well marshalled and disciplined indeed, but sub- 
 stantially and numerically the same they were be- 
 fore enlisting. Upon our own principles the con- 
 clusion runs the other way : for we argue, that Man 
 must be an Individual, not like your palpable Indi- 
 viduals, consisting of parts, because he has a being 
 of his own. And for the truth of our postitlatum, 
 we appeal to every man, Whether he can doubt of 
 
( 188 ) 
 
 his own existence, or that he has a personality dis- 
 tinct from that of all other Beings. 
 
 Nevertheless this appeal, it seems, cannot avail 
 us ; hecause, how could any man acquire this sense 
 or knowledge of his personality without a human 
 body ? or in other words, how can a man exist with- 
 out a body ? Had we said the mind or soul of man 
 might so exist, it. would have been less exception- 
 able ; and yet exceptionable it would have been ; 
 for how could the mind acquire a sense of person- 
 ality without a body? Now if it be remembered 
 what was the opinion we set out to battle against 
 in the beginning of my note, namely, that the souls 
 of men, as well as all other productions, were formed 
 out of atoms, the correction of Man into Mind 
 might have been spared. For when afterwards we 
 spoke of the atoms running together to compose a 
 human body, we thought that, upon the principles 
 of our adversaries, Mind and Body must be the 
 same thing: but if any one thinks otherwise, he is 
 welcome to dele Body, and read Mind, Soul or Spi- 
 rir; our argument will run never the worse. 
 
 As to the question, whether a Man or a Mind 
 can acquire a sense of personality without a human 
 body ; we apprehend it as difficult for any body to 
 answer in the negative, as for us in the affirmative. 
 It may be said indeed, as is said of Mr. Locke, that 
 the negative may be very easily proved on our own 
 principles ; certainly nothing is more easy than to 
 assert this, and it may pass with such readers as 
 will take positiveness for demonstration: but it 
 may not be quite so easy to make out the assertion.. 
 
 But supposing it certain, there can be no know- 
 ledge of personality without a body, how does it 
 follow that no personality or existence can be had 
 without one? or that not having knowledge of ex- 
 
( 139 ) 
 
 istence, and not existing, are synonimous expres- 
 sions? This is new doctrine to us, and the logic by 
 which it is proved, rises far above our pitch. It 
 puts us in mind of that used in our infancy under 
 the dictates of pure nature, unperverted by educa- 
 tion, when the child hides its face in Mamma's 
 apron, and then cries, Nobody sees me. Which, in 
 the learned language of our Censor would run thus, 
 <f In this situation I can acquire no sense or know- 
 " ledge of any body's seeing me ; therefore, or in 
 " other words, nobody does see me." Now in our 
 humble apprehension," the reality of a fact is not 
 the same thing with the evidence of it : the one 
 may be true, though the other be wanting. If we 
 have evidence of a thing's existing, we may be- 
 lieve it had an existence before we knew it, and 
 may still continue to exist after our evidence is 
 withdrawn and lost out of our memory. 
 
 I doubt not Mr. Monthly has passed many a 
 night in sound sleep, since he did us the honour to 
 take notice of us ; for, considering how much more 
 than justice he has done our characters in the prin- 
 cipal parts of them, he can have had nothing to 
 disturb his rest upon that score. Then during all 
 these naps, I suppose he had no sense or knowledge, 
 of his own existence: but will he therefore say t 
 that he really had no existence? or that every time 
 he fell asleep, he ceased to be, was no Person, no 
 Substance, no Being? but resumed ail these again 
 the moment" he awoke in the morning ? Therefore! 
 upon what grounds can he infer, that when he, an<l 
 we, and all human palpable Individuals shall be* 
 come stupified in the sleep of death, we shall ut- 
 terly lose our existence, though we lose all evidence 
 of it ; and that a new set of corporeal organs (if 
 
( 190 ) 
 
 such organs be necessary) may not invest and awa- 
 ken us to a new scene of evidence? 
 
 What shall we say of the houses, the trees, the 
 fields we see around us? Have they a knowledge of 
 their existence ? or do they therefore not exist at 
 all? To draw this consequence, must drive us 
 plumh into Berkeley's scheme ; that bodies subsist 
 only in our idea, and are, or cease to be, according 
 as our ideas fluctuate. So that when every body 
 goes out of the room, the tables, the chairs, the 
 pictures, they left behind, become instantly anni- 
 hilated; and upon the company's return, become 
 as instantly re-existent. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, he will not deny 
 that the mind, or spirit of man, may be an indivi- 
 dual existence, to be destroyed only by the imme- 
 diate exertion of Omnipotence. Yet in effect he 
 does deny it a few lines below ; for he says, that 
 by existence, in this case, must be meant an abso- 
 lute and metaphysical existence ; in which sense it 
 is more than probable, there is no other Being in 
 the universe but God : for while every thing in 
 nature appears to be in a constant fluctuation and 
 change, it is rational enough to suspect, from ana- 
 logy, that even the elements of things may be so 
 too. Now this reasoning seems to imply, that the 
 spirit of man is no more than a fifth element, like 
 that called by Aristotle, Entelechia s for unless the 
 mind be included in the elements, the argument 
 from their fluctuation, that there is no created sub- 
 stance metaphysically existing, would not hold 
 good : or that it is something analogous to the spi- 
 rit of brandy or hartshorn, a drop of which being 
 put into Tunbridge water, takes off the chill it 
 would else cast upon weak stomachs ; so a drop of 
 the spirit of man infused into his material compo- 
 
sition, takes off the insensibility naturally belonging 
 to it, and renders it capable of sense and under- 
 standing. Yet it is plain, this drop may be di- 
 vided into parts, which may one after another enter 
 into the composition of the other elements ; so 
 that what is now spirit of man, may by and by 
 become a drop of water, a puff of air, a spark of 
 fire, or a speck of earth. 
 
 If this be so, I see no reason for calling in 
 Omnipotence to destroy the spirit of man ; for I 
 suppose there are certain stated laws, I must not 
 say of nature, but, of the universe, operating these 
 fluctuations and changes of the elements. And 
 that the changes must be gradual we may presume 
 from analogy ; for though a dead dog may become 
 a tree by being buried under it, it must putrify 
 first, and be reduced to something which is neither 
 animal nor vegetable substance, before it can be 
 drawn up by the radical fibres of the tree. So the 
 elements, during their passage into one another, 
 must be no elements at all, neither earth, nor water, 
 nor air, nor fire, nor e?itelechia t and consequently be 
 non-existent; for palpable existence they have 
 none, and other existence, we are told, belongs not 
 to created things. 
 
 The result of all this is, that ourselves, and 
 whatever we see or handle, are made up of non-en- 
 tities, than which nothing can be harder of diges- 
 tion ; and if we can pronounce any thing, we may 
 pronounce this absolutely impossible even to Om- 
 nipotence. 1 have heard, indeed, that God created 
 all things out of nothing, but I never knew it un- 
 derstood thereby, that he employed Nothing as a 
 material whereout to fabricate his worlds ; or that 
 he moulded and kneaded up a certain quantity of 
 Nothing, as a baker kneads his dough, until it be- 
 
( 192 ) f 
 
 Came Something. I know the Atheists, Lucre- 
 tius in particular, charge this idea of creation upon 
 us, and take great pains to overthrow it; but they 
 fight all the while with a shadow; for no Theist ever 
 entertained such a notion. 
 
 Another reprehension given us is for saying, 
 that upon dissolution of the human body, there is 
 not a Being lost out of Nature ; which expression, 
 Out of Nature, is, it seems, such an egregious im- 
 propriety, as to deserve being stigmatized with 
 Italics. But we were unwaringly drawn thereinto 
 by the example of other persons before us : for we 
 have heard of there being a God in Nature of in- 
 visible Natures, perhaps more elegantly expressed 
 by impalpable Natures of the Nature of virtue, 
 justice, government, and many other things which 
 are not objects of physiological knowledge. And 
 if we were led to talk like children, by conversing 
 among other children, it had been kind in our Mas- 
 ter to have instructed us how to speak with better 
 propriety : for he might know well enough that our 
 meaning was only to assert, that upon certain sub- 
 stances joining together in a compound, there is not 
 a new Being added to the number upon composi- 
 tion, nor is one lost again out of the whole number 
 upon separation. Now how ought we to have ex- 
 pressed ourselves upon this occasion? In short, it 
 seems not very material whether we add Out of 
 Nature, or omit it. If a billet be consumed in the 
 fire, we suppose the parts of it are dissipated, but 
 not annihilated : a few of them only remain palp- 
 able in the ashes, but whether the rest be in nature 
 or out of nature it is no matter, so they be exist- 
 ent somewhere; there will still be the same number 
 of parts as before disunion ; and the billet having 
 no existence over and above, or distinct from the 
 
( 193 ) 
 
 parts, there will not be a Being lost upon its 
 sumption. But we must correct our theory against 
 another time, and adopt a new article of Faith, to 
 wit, that a compound may consist of parts which 
 had no existence in Nature before they entered into 
 it ; and the five elements themselves, for we must 
 reckon the Entelechia for one, be made up of a 
 Materia prima, every where uniform, and capable 
 of being formed into any of them indifferently, 
 though there be no such thing in Nature as a Mate- 
 ria prim a. 
 
 Yet we cannot help saying, it was a little un- 
 generous in Mr. Monthly to attack us in flank, 
 while we were engaged with another enemy, against 
 whom our disposition was not improperly made : 
 for they being as deficient in physiology as our- 
 selves, would not have denied the existence of atoms 
 in nature ; therefore we still humbly conceive it 
 was with propriety with respect to them we urged, 
 that after dispersion of the atoms, there must be as 
 many Beings in nature, as there had been during 
 their coalition in a man. And consequently, if 
 Man has a Being and Personality of his own, dis- 
 tinct from all other Beings, and which would be lost 
 out of Nature upon his annihilation, he cannot be 
 such a compound of atoms. 
 
 But having driven them out of the field, and 
 being now to deal with another kind of assailant, 
 we may be allowed to change our disposition ac- 
 cording to the nature of the attack. But hold : 
 we shall be chid again ; for Attack is not a physio- 
 logical Being, and there may be great impropriety 
 in applying the term Nature to it. Well, then, 
 according to the manner of the attack. For atoms, 
 it seems, there are none, and the principles of phy- 
 Vol. 2.] B b 
 
( 194 ) 
 
 sical Beings have no existence in nature, until 
 formed into compounds. Let us try then how we 
 can manage our argument by help of physical 
 Beings alone : and in so doing, our example of the 
 regiment may still serve our purpose. For the men 
 are admitted on both sides to be substances, whe- 
 ther palpable or metaphysical, whether individual 
 or compound, 'tis all one; for though we love hair- 
 splitting as well as most folks, where necessary, we 
 see no use for it here ; Substances they still are, 
 distinct and independent on one another. If then 
 there were six hundred of them dispersed about the 
 country, they did not, upon being incorporated into 
 ten Companies and one Regiment, become six hun- 
 dred and eleven substances: nor will the King, 
 upon disbanding them, lose a single Subject, or 
 Substance, or Being, out of his dominion. For 
 surely disbanding is not annihilating, nor can 
 you conceive any Existence or Substance belonging 
 to the Regiment annihilated so long as the men 
 remain all alive. 
 
 Now, to apply this to man: if he be a com- 
 pound, yet we are not obliged to go so far as to 
 the primary principles whereof his elements are 
 constituted, for then we shall wander out of Na- 
 ture; but we may distribute his whole composition 
 into parts still remaining palpable, as his arms, his 
 legs, his heart, his brain; suppose twenty of them. 
 These twenty parts, then, are so many several Beings, 
 numerically and substantially distinct from each other 
 in the composition ; for the leg is not the arm, nor 
 the brain the heart, even in a living man. So that 
 he is nothing more than a Regiment, or collection 
 of these twenty parts, having no distinct Being of 
 his own which might be added to theirs to make 
 the whole number twenty-one. And if they were 
 
( 195 ) 
 
 separated by dissection, though they would lose 
 their vitality, they would not lose their substance, 
 but there would still remain twenty substances, as 
 many as could be counted in the whole composition, 
 nor would a single Being be lost out of Nature. 
 
 Therefore if a man, while possessing his senses 
 and understanding, has undoubted evidence of his 
 own existence and personality distinct from all 
 other Beings, and adds one to the number of those 
 existent, he cannot be a compound or collection of 
 substances, but an individual, making some one 
 particular part of the composition whereinto he 
 enters. 
 
 This brings us to the examination of what is 
 properly a Man's Self, or that whereto the personal 
 pronouns /, You, He> and She, may he applied. 
 And here perhaps at first there may be thought to 
 be no difficulty; for upon a man coming into the 
 room, my eyes may inform me sufficiently of his 
 person, and I may see plainly enough that he is not 
 the table, the chairs, nor the wainscot surrounding 
 him. Very well: let us try what I can discover 
 by my eyes. Why, I see a face, a pair of hands, 
 a coat, stockings, and shoes : are all these You ? 
 
 -No, to be sure : You know well enough I pull 
 
 off my coat and shoes when I go to bed, and put 
 
 on banyan and slippers in the morning. Well, 
 
 but you don't pull off your hair and nails when 
 
 you go to bed : then they are parts of You. 
 
 No, no: they are only excrescencies; for they have 
 
 no sense or feeling. How so ? If any body was 
 
 to tear off a parcel of your hair, or one of your 
 
 nails, should not you feel a grievous smart? 
 
 Ay, the pronoun / should, because they are fast- 
 ened to my flesh : but the hair and the nails would 
 feel nothing. They are like a packthread wound 
 
( 196 ) 
 
 round my wrist, which if any one should twitch 
 violently, he would hurt the wrist, but he would 
 
 not hurt the packthread. So, then, what has 
 
 sense and feeling only is Yourself. Undoubt- 
 edly : and every thing that has so is a part of My- 
 self. What think you of your teeth, your bones, 
 
 your flit, the humours in your glands ? for altera- 
 tions may happen in them without your feeling it. 
 
 1 don't know what to say to that : for in 
 
 common acceptation every thing is reputed Myself 
 that remains with me after I have pulled off all my 
 
 cloaths, except the excrescencies. Ay, arid the 
 
 excrescencies too, sometimes: for we often describe 
 a man's person by the colour of his hair ; and should 
 do by his nails, if they have any thing remarkable 
 or distinguishing ; nay, by his cloaths, if we think 
 he has but one suit to wear. So you see the term 
 Self, like other terms of common acceptation, is 
 fluctuating, determined this way or that by the 
 present occasion : for he that, upon his knife slip- 
 ping while he carves a loin of mutton, is asked 
 whether he has cut himself, may say, No, 'tis only 
 a piece of my nail; but if bedashes the gravy upon 
 his coat, he will be apt to fret at having greased 
 himself. But what do you take to be truly and 
 properly Yourself ? I doubt I must give up the 
 bones, the fat, and the humours: but surely my 
 system of nerves, and organs of sense, must be My- 
 self ; for the great Mr. Monthly pronounces, that 
 without them I could not have knowledge of my 
 
 personality, or, in other words, could not exist. 
 
 But then it is the nerves and organs jointly that 
 make Yourself. Your eyes are not You, nor your 
 ears, nor your brachial or crural nerves; but the 
 whole composition of them altogether is that 
 whereto the pronoun Yon belongs. So it should 
 
( 1'97 ) 
 
 seem. Suppose an English soldier has lost a leg 
 
 in Germany, may he afterwards say, I was born in 
 
 England: Why not? Because the palpahlc 
 
 compound born, to which the pronoun / was then 
 applicable, is now no more, being destroyed by 
 
 ^subtraction of the nerves in the leg. Oh ! but 
 
 it is still a part of the same compound. Remem- 
 ber what you said before, that it was not your eye, 
 nor your ear, but the whole composition which was 
 Yourself. But it is rational enough to imagine 
 from analogy, that compounds may fluctuate and 
 change into one another, so that what was a Self 
 with two legs may become a Self with only one. 
 May be so: -but then it is not the same Self; for 
 the term Self belonging to the whole composition, 
 it is plain the present competition wants a part 
 which was an ingredient helping to complete the 
 former. You puzzle me now. I wish Mr. Monthly 
 were here: I warrant he would manage you with a 
 wet finger. And yet I cannot help thinking the 
 man was the same Self after losing his leg as before, 
 and might apply the pronoun / to whatever was 
 
 done or suffered by the two-legged Self. Take 
 
 care. For if the Self remains entire after loss of the 
 leg, then it will follow that the leg, while in vital 
 union with the body, was no constituent part of 
 the palpable substance 1 ; because this suffers no 
 diminution by the amputation. ,But we will not 
 press this, because you have not your champion by 
 to help you out. 
 
 Therefore let us take the compound before 
 fluctuation, while the man has all his limbs and 
 senses entire. In this state I suppose the whole 
 composition, not any part, nor any number of parts 
 less than all, is You : so that what the composition 
 does, you do* and, vice versa, whatever is done by 
 
( 198 ) 
 
 you is done by the whole composition. You are 
 
 right. Pray do you hear me speak? Why 
 
 should you ask? have not I answered you all along? 
 
 1 am not sure of that: Something has heard 
 
 and answered me all along very clearly: but I am 
 in some doubt whether that was You ; because it 
 seems to me not to have been your whole composi- 
 tion. Did your eyes hear any thing of what I 
 said? They helped to understand you, by ob- 
 serving your gestures, and motion of your lips. 
 Probably they might : But had your nose or the 
 nerves of your legs or arms any share in the hear- 
 ing? There was no occasion: for I have ears 
 
 good enough to perform the office of hearing with- 
 out other aid? So your ears, or if you please to 
 
 add eyes, have performed the whole office of hear- 
 ing and understanding; and I have been talking all 
 this while, not with your whole composition, nor 
 
 with You, but with a pair of eyes and ears. 
 
 Pshaw! now you joke with me. And let me tell 
 you, this does not sit so easy upon you, nor appear 
 so little forced as your argument. Can any body 
 deny that what my ears hear is my hearing? I 
 deny or affirm nothing; I only ask, whether what 
 your eyes see, and. your ears hear, is seen and heard 
 
 by your whole composition? 1 think it is. I 
 
 am sure it is seen and heard by Myself : for I have 
 no notion of one Self to see, another to hear, another 
 to smell, and so on ; nor of half Myself seeing when 
 the other half does not. But to my thinking a 
 perception received at any one part runs through 
 the whole Self, the whole composition. Does it so? 
 When you look at a picture, does the sight of it 
 run down to your great toe ? and when some body 
 treads upon your toe, do your eyes instantly feel a 
 sympathetic smart? I am sure it is the same /, the 
 
( 199 ) 
 
 same Self, that see the one and feel the other. 
 Then if you have hut one Self to serve you upon 
 all occasions, and this Self cannot perceive by 
 halves, must it not be something distinct from the 
 nerves and organs, which alternately remain insen- 
 sible of one another's perceptions ? And is it not 
 rational enough to suspect, that these organs are 
 only channels of conveyance transmitting their re- 
 spective notices, as windows transmit the light, to 
 the same Self, the whole of which perceives every 
 
 thing that is perceived? O ! for Mr. Monthly 
 
 again, to stand by and see my head broke ! But 
 supposing it were so; may not this Self be still a 
 
 compound? 1 am afraid we shall hardly be able 
 
 to make a palpable individual compound of it: so 
 we have lost our existence already; for nothing it 
 seems exists that is not so, nor is there any thing- 
 individual unless compounds. Nor do I much care: 
 for, so we can find pleasure in one another's com- 
 pany, it is no matter whether we find it with ex- 
 istence or without. But what do you take this 
 compound to be? Truly, I don't very well 
 know : but suppose it to lie somewhere in the brain. 
 We are told the nerves have been traced to the 
 pineal gland : perhaps there may be a drop of the 
 fifth element ; or spirit of man, gathered there 5 and 
 then that is the Self whereto the personal pronouns 
 
 belong. 
 
 Do you apprehend yourself to be a real Being, 
 or only a dream, a mere fancy or imagination ? 
 I cannot doubt of my existence, so long as I have 
 
 my senses. -The having your senses depends 
 
 upon your having sensitive organs, which we have 
 now agreed are no parts of you, therefore are se- 
 parable frbm you. But upon such separation 
 should you lose your Being, because you lost the 
 
( 200 ) 
 
 knowledge or consciousness of it? No, provided 
 
 the drop remained entire. Suppose the drop, 
 
 without being ever dissipated, should get into the 
 pineal gland of another human body, should you 
 
 regain your knowledge and consciousness? 1 
 
 should know I had a Being, but not that I was the 
 same Being and Person I am now, because probably 
 I might not remember any thing passing with me 
 
 now. Well, but tho' you might not know it, 
 
 should you not really be the same Person and 
 
 Being? Certainly: for the drop being Me, while 
 
 that remains the same, I must be the same. So 
 
 the Being and Substance of the drop are your 
 Being, which you undoubtedly know you possess, 
 
 while you have your senses. They are -And 
 
 the materials of the drop are your materials. 
 
 Yes. - Do you and the drop make two Beings? 
 
 No : both are one and the same. So while 
 
 the whole drop continues to subsist, you subsist. 
 
 I do. But the drop may be divided into two 
 
 half drops. Ay, and those again into infinite 
 
 parts; for Matter is divisible adinfinitum With 
 
 all your divisions, can you ever reduce it to no- 
 thing? 1 do not pretend that. Is there not 
 
 the same substance or quantity of matter in the 
 
 two halves as there was in the whole drop? To 
 
 be sure. And after their being divided into in- 
 finite parts, is there not still the same quantity 
 
 among them all ? 1 agree it. Then none of 
 
 your substance being lost, you still continue to 
 subsist, notwithstanding an infinite dissipation of 
 
 your parts My Substance does; but not Me. 
 
 Why so ? Are you any thing else than the 
 
 substance whereof you consist r Yes, the union 
 of it into a compound is necessary to my subsist- 
 ence. Is Union a substance ? -I never said it 
 
( 201 ) 
 
 was. Can it rrtake a substance ? It may make 
 
 that to be one which was many before. Is that 
 
 one any addition to the number there was before 
 union, or has it any other existence besides or over 
 and above theirs ? 
 
 It does not to the number of substances, but 
 
 it has an existence besides, theirs. How do you 
 
 make that out? Because, in common propriety 
 
 of speech, we apply existence to the composition 
 distinct from the substances compounded. In 
 what instances pray ?. Some people deny there is 
 any such thing as a circle existing in nature ; for 
 what appears such, they say, is only a Polygon 
 whose angles are imperceptible. Now when they 
 say this, they do not mean to deny the existence of 
 the bodies seeming to be circular: and if they ad- 
 mit the existence of squares and triangles, these 
 are different ideas from that of the substances ex- 
 isting in them. Different ideas they may be with- 
 out being different existencies : for composition 
 may still be no more than a particular mode of 
 existing in substances, upon their coming into 
 union from being dispersed. And it is not neces- 
 sary that, upon -their being cast out of a triangle 
 into a square, there should be an existence lost and 
 gained, but only that they change their manner of 
 existence, which, whether in square or triangle, is 
 still their existence, not that of any thing else. 
 Still, in my apprehension, when a thistle grows out 
 of the ground, there is a plant in being which was 
 not existent before. Well, if you make a diffi- 
 culty, we do not love contesting where it is need- 
 less. We will suppose Composition to have an 
 existence distinct from the substances compounded. 
 Thank ye, for your indulgence ; tho' I am afraid 
 Vol. 2.] c c 
 
( 202 )' 
 
 you would not grant it, if you thought it would 
 do ine_any good, It could do you no good to deny 
 it. llpon tills supposition there will arise a new 
 quest ion, .What is properly You, and your Exist- 
 ence? for you know you have one of some sort or 
 other : whether it he the existence of your com- 
 position with that of your suhstance jointly, or 
 
 the former alone abstracted from the latter, 
 
 Stay; I must think a little, this. is not a matter to 
 be determined presently. Nay, if you are not 
 clear, never stand to puzzle your brains about it. 
 For which ever way we take it, our argument will 
 run the same : so we will try with the Composition, 
 considered apart from the materials united by it. 
 Take your own way, since you say both will con- 
 duct to the same point. Lay down a brass qua- 
 drant upon the table: I suppose you will allow it 
 has a composition existing distinctly from all other 
 compositions. Very readily. Place another equal 
 quadrant of silver by it. Has not that a composi- 
 tion of its own existing too? Certainly. Does it 
 destroy the composition of the other? How can it 
 affect that, only by being laid side by side by it? 
 Put two other quadrants of steel and copper 
 against the former: Have not the four so many 
 distinct compositions existing in them? No doubt 
 they have. But all together make a compleat 
 circle. True. Has not this circle a composition 
 too? Undoubtedly. Is the composition of the 
 circle any thing else than an aggregate of the four 
 compositions in the quadrants ? Nothing else, that 
 I know of. Now let us return to the human body. 
 Has not your right leg a composition of its own 
 distinct from that of your left? It has And 
 your right arm another? -Yes, And your nose 
 another ? To be sure. And every part of your 
 
( 203 ) 
 
 human frame a separate composition of its own. ' 
 I cannot deny it. But we discovered before, that 
 the parts I have named were no parts of Yourself. 
 We must not retract that : So your exist- 
 ence lies in the composition of the drop or spirit of 
 
 man lodged in your pineal gland. It does. 
 
 Which drop may be divided into two halves. 
 
 It may. And each of these halves into three hun- 
 dred subdivisions. Ay, so many at least And 
 matter being divisible ad infinitum, each of these 
 subdivisions are compounds having a composition 
 existing in them distinct from all the rest. Admit 
 that they have. Then is the composition of the 
 drop, which is Yon, any thing else than the aggre- 
 gate of the six hundred compositions in the subdi- 
 visions ? It must be so : Plato, thou reasonest 
 well So now we are come to the regiment again. 
 This plaguy troublesome foe pursues us to whatever 
 quarter we can turn, and drives us to a concession, 
 that we have no better title to existence than itself; 
 and it appears in all lights that you have no distinct 
 Being of your own, being nothing more than a 
 regiment or collection of infinite substances or ex- 
 istencies; and upon the disbanding of them, tho' 
 you cease to be, yet there is not a Being, a Com- 
 
 ?)utid, a Composition, lost out of the universe. 
 et for all that 1 cannot help thinking, that upon 
 my ceasing to be, there must be one Being the 
 fewer in the universe: so I shall suppose, that so 
 Jong as the substance composing me subsists, how- 
 ever dispersed or dissipated, I shall subsist. 
 
 But this will avail us little: for bare exist- 
 ence without perception is of no value; and when 
 the particles fall out of their union and intercourse 
 with one another, they cannot form a perceptive 
 compound. That's a great comfort, no doubt. 
 
( 204 ) 
 
 But supposing any of them could see, or hear, or 
 feel, while you subsist, and they continue to he 
 parts of you, tho' dispersed to great distances; 
 should you be insensible of their perceptions ? 
 Supposing that, I must be affected with what af- 
 fects any of them: but this is an impossible sup- 
 position, because they cannot perceive unless in 
 composition. But after being decompounded they 
 may come into composition again. Possibly they 
 
 may. The elements perpetually fluctuate and 
 
 change : so what is now spirit of man, may be- 
 come spirit of brandy, and in further process of 
 time may become spirit of man again, either in one 
 composition, or interspersed among several drops 
 gathered in several pineal glands. I cannot deny 
 the possibility of this. Then in this state of com- 
 position they will all be perceptive, but probably 
 have very different and contrary perceptions; some 
 seeing while others do not see, some being in plea- 
 sure while others are in pain. And as you must be 
 affected with whatever affects them, you must 
 then have these contrary perceptions at the same 
 time, and enjoy pleasure while you suffer pain. 
 I can't tell how to come into this notion tho', that 
 I may see and not see, be in pleasure and pain at 
 the same instant. 
 
 You know the almighty power of Chance, and 
 how in the course of infinite ages she must produce 
 all possible combinations. Now one possible com- 
 bination is this ; that some thousands of yeartf 
 hence half your drop and half mine should join in 
 one pineal gland, and the other halves in some other 
 pineal gland. Will these two compounds be per- 
 sons having knowledge of their own existence ? 
 I make no doubt of it, Will they be distinct and 
 different persons from one another?- Certainly. 
 
( 205 ) 
 
 Which of them will he one of us? Neither. Do 
 not we suhsist so long as our substances subsist; 
 and shall not we perceive whatever they or any 
 parts of them perceive ? We agreed so just now ; 
 not in liking to the hypothesis, but because drove 
 out of every other. Shall we have any other sub- 
 stance, or existence, or perception, than what be- 
 longs to those two persons ? And yet I can never 
 bring myself to believe that I can become another 
 Person, or part of another Person, or perceive by 
 his perceptions, much less by the perceptions of 
 
 So long as you continue alive, I suppose, you 
 are the same Person you were some years ago. 
 You can agree to this without being drove out of 
 all other hypotheses. Very readily. Nobody can 
 doubt that. The same Being, Existence, or indi- 
 vidual Substance. Certainly. And the same indi- 
 vidual Compound too. Do not the humours of 
 our body continually fluctuate and change, being 
 first secreted from the blood, then entering into 
 the substance of our flesh, and afterwards flying 
 off by perspiration ? One cannot be ignorant of 
 this, without great deficiency in physiological 
 knowledge. Is it not rational enough to suspect 
 from analogy, that the spirit of man (if it be a 
 fifth element, or material fluid) fluctuates in like 
 manner; being first secreted from the animal spi- 
 rits, then turning to the medullary substance of the 
 brain, and afterwards flying off by perspiration ? 
 Truly there is a shrewd suspicion of such ana- 
 logy. And as the particles of this fluid are de- 
 tached, others flow in to supply their places ; so 
 that there may not be one particle the same that 
 was there some time ago : but what is now spirit 
 of man in you, once was blood, or chyle, or victu* 
 
( 206 ) 
 
 als you have eaten, and perhaps a twelvemonth 
 hence may he vapour floating- about in the air ; 
 yet You continuing all the while the substance and 
 person I don't know how to disprove all this. 
 Then if You are a real Being and substance, and 
 are not barely a form or mode of existence in some- 
 thing else', and if your Existence and Personality 
 remains the same throughout all the stages of life, 
 from infancy to extreme old ao'e, notwithstanding 
 
 / ^ c? 
 
 all the changes of particles in your drop ; may we 
 not argue, as we did before, concerning the nerves 
 and the organs, that they are no parts of You, but 
 channels to convey perception to something else, 
 which is numerically and substantially Yourself? 
 Well, I'll say no more, but turn you over to my 
 champion. 
 
 Thus which ever way we turn ourselves, we 
 find nothing but absurdity and contradiction, so 
 long as we place our existence and personality in 
 a compound : nor can we escape them otherwise 
 than by admitting an Individual, not one of your 
 compound individuals, which is none at all except in 
 idea, but an Individual truly such, consisting of no 
 parts; that cannot either totally or partially become 
 another substance, nor can lose its identity unless 
 by annihilation : in which case there would be a 
 Being absolutely lost out of Nature, that is, out of 
 the number of Beings existent. Into whatever 
 composition this Individual enters, we esteem it 
 Ourselves for the time, notwithstanding any fluc- 
 tuation of its parts; provided they fall into the 
 same connection, and serve the same uses their pre- 
 decessors had done before. 
 
 According to the form and texture of these 
 compositions, we conceive physical Beings deno- 
 minated: so we are orthodox in this article ofphy- 
 
( 207 ) 
 
 siological faith. But we are reproved for misap- 
 plying the term Man to a part of him ; because we 
 observe, that no man can doubt of his own exist- 
 ence, and a little after place that existence in the 
 mind, which is an individual that can be divested 
 of its Being by no power less than that which gave 
 it. What then? has not the Man such a Being if 
 his mind has it? May not we say a Man has a 
 fresh colour, because he has it only in his cheeks; 
 but none in his arms or his back? So the dispute 
 turns upon a point of language rather than of 
 physiology. For surely nobody can understand us 
 to imagine that when Rice was hanged, he was not 
 divested of his Manhood, or did not cease to be a 
 Man. The sole question is, Whether the term 
 Man may, upon any occasion, be applied to either 
 of his parts after their separation. Suppose his 
 body had been hung upon a gibbet in the little 
 green near Stamford- hill, if on going along the 
 road in dusk of evening with a friend, as my eyes 
 are not very good, I should ask, Pray what is that 
 sticks up in the middle of the common ? Is it a 
 tree? And he should answer, No: it is a Man 
 hanging in chains. Would he be guilty of false 
 language in his answer? Or suppose I ask Whit- 
 field what he thinks is become of him: and he tells 
 me, u Such a wicked Man, not having received 
 absolution from me, to be sure is gone to the 
 Devil." Must we call this an impropriety of ex- 
 pression, merely because we are pretty sure the 
 Devil has not got both parts of the palpable Indi- 
 vidual yet? 
 
 With regard to Agency, we hold, as appears 
 by Note (b) on page 31, that in every human 
 action the mind acts upon some corporeal organ 
 or instrument, and having many of them under 
 
( 208 ) 
 
 command, she can by employing them respectively 
 affect things external, as when we take up a book; 
 or the body, as when we wipe our face; or herself, 
 as when we recollect some past occurrence. All 
 which actions are ordinarily ascribed to the Man : 
 for we say the Man thinks, the Man wipes his 
 face, or the Man takes up a book. But if the 
 term Alan belongs only to the palpable compound, 
 it must include the whole of it, and cannot be 
 applied to the mind, even together with some of the 
 limbs and organs exclusive of the rest; so that the 
 Man neither walks, nor writes, because in the for- 
 mer his hands perhaps hang dangling by his side; 
 in the latter, his legs, like a couple of lazy curs, sit 
 doing nothing under the table. If we are to be 
 held to this rigorous physiological dialect, perhaps 
 no Man ever did a single thing in all his life ; be- 
 cause it would be difficult to assign any action 
 whereto some parts of his composition were not 
 wholly useless and unconcurrent. 
 
 As to the adverb alternately, I don't recollect 
 where we have employed it: but if we have, I see 
 no great harm done. Possibly Mr. Monthly takes 
 a pipe sometimes, while sitting, like Fate, over the 
 new-born babes of literature, to spin their future 
 fortunes in the temple of fame. He whiffs and 
 thinks, and thinks and whiffs again. In this case 
 might not we sa}' the Man acts alternately. Some- 
 times upon his mouth to draw smoke into it, and 
 sometimes upon his Pericranium to raise ideas 
 there, now and then a little smoky too ? or should 
 we say, the mind acts upon the pectoral and gut- 
 tural muscles, they act upon the fuming weed in 
 the tube, the exudations of that stimulate the sen- 
 sory nerves in his palate, these communicate their 
 motion to the brain, which acts upon the mind. 
 
again, by raising up judicious observations for her 
 to contemplate ? Would this learned style tend 
 more to the entertainment and edification of our 
 readers ? 
 
 If our language in all these particulars has been 
 incorrect, it will be good-natured in him to set us 
 right. In the meantime, as a man that makes 
 awkward bows must go on with his awkwardness 
 until his dancing-master can teach him to per- 
 form more genteelly ; so we may hope for indul- 
 gence in our vulgarity of expression, until our 
 master shall instruct us to deliver ourselves with 
 better grace and elegance. 
 
 We have spent many more words in our de- 
 fence than were employed in the attack ; but it 
 is always the case, that less trouble is requisite to 
 puzzle a cause than to clear it up, and a man may 
 make more tangles in a fine skain of thread in a 
 minute than he can undo again in an hour. We 
 did not undertake it for the sake of our own 
 credit, which has been much more raised than 
 depressed by the labours of our good cousin, Mr. 
 Monthly Comment, who has said so many hand- 
 some things of us that it would be vanity to 
 repeat them ; and a few freedoms ought not to 
 be taken amiss, as they shew an impartiality that 
 adds weight to what has been said in our favour. 
 It is common to see two counsel fight like dog 
 and bear at the bar, without thinking the worse 
 of one another, all the while their strenuousness 
 encourages clients : so our making a little noise 
 with one another may turn to mutual account ; it 
 may serve like the market-bell to awaken the 
 curiosity of customers, and quicken the sale of 
 both our wares. This benefit, if it accrues, we 
 shall be heartily glad of, in gratitude for the high 
 
( 210 ) 
 
 encomiums bestowed on us ; yet we own it will 
 be purely accidental, for what raised our solici- 
 tude was the doctrine advanced of the mind and 
 material elements fluctuating and changing into 
 one another ; which seemed a revival, though we 
 are willing to believe it was not intended as such, 
 of the old atheistical notion, that a perceptive and 
 active being might be formed of inert and sense- 
 less principles. This seemed a matter of import- 
 ance to us, well deserving our serious care and 
 endeavours to prevent ; and engaged iis to a 
 replication, which, upon all other accounts, we 
 should have judged needless. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 NIVERSITY 
 
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