UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES A N , E S S A Y ON THE NATURE and IMMUTABILITY O F TRUTH, IN OPPOSITION TO SOPHISTRY and SCEPTICISM. A NEW EDITION, REVISED AND CAREFULLY CORRECTED. Nunquam allud Natura, aliud Sapientia Jicit. JUVENAL. ESSAYS ON THE NATURE AND IMMUTABILITY O F T R U T H, IN OPPOSITION TO SOPHISTRY AND SCEPTICISM j O N POETRY AND MUSIC, AS THEY AFFECT THE MINDj O N LAUGHTER, AND LUDICROUS COMPOSITION; AND, ON THE UTILITY OF CLASSICAL LEARNING. BY JAMES BEATTIE, LL. D. PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY AND LOGIC IN THE 1WARISCHAL COLLEGE AND UNIVERSITY OF ABERDEEN. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. DUBLIN: PRINTED FOR C. JENKIN, (No. 58) DAME-STREET. M,DCC,LXXVUI. t^ V -v CONTENTS. I. AN ESSAY ON THE NATURE AND IMMUTA- BILITY OF TRUTH, IN OPPOSITION TO So- ^ PHISTRY AND SCEPTICISM. Pag, PREFACE to this Edition. INTRODUCTION, - - 17 PART I. 4 . ON THE STANDARD OF TRUTH. - 34 N 1 CHAPTER L Of the perception of Truth in general, 35 CHAP. II. All reafoning terminates in firft principles. All evidence ultimates intuitive. Com- mon 224569 THE CONTENTS. Pag. mon Senfe the ftandard of Truth to man, ^-~- _ ^ Sea. i. Of Mathematical Reafoning, 52 Sea. 2. Of the evidence of External fenfe, 57 Sea. 3. Of the evidence of Internal fenfe, or confcioufnefs, 63 Sea. 4, Of the evidence of Memory, 80 Sea. 5. Of Reafoning from the Effett to the Caufe, 87 Seel:. 6. Of Probable or Experimental Rea- foning, - 103 Seel. 7. Of Analogical Reafoningy - 108 Se6t. 8. Of faith in Tejlimony, in Seft. 9. Conclufton of this chapter. Further proof. General Remarks on Scep- tictjm y - 1 1 8 PART II. ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRECEDING DOCTRINE, WITH INFERENCES, - - 130 CHAP. I. Confirmation of this doctrine, from the practice, Se6t. i. Of Mathematicians, 133 Sea. 2. Of Natural Philofiphers, 142 3. The fubj eft continued. Intuitive Truths dijlinguijhable into claffes y 1 70 CHAP. THE CONTENTS. CHAP. II, Pag. This doftrine rejected by Sceptical Philo- fophers, - 180 Sect. i f General obfervations. Rife an grefs of modern Scepticifm. Of Des Cartes and Malebranche. ---- Locke and Berkeley.- - Gene- ral ^iew of Mr. Hume's Theory of the Under/landing^ ibid. Seel:, 2, Of the Non-exijlence of Matter., 214 Sect. 3. Of Liberty and Necejfity, 240 CHAP. IIL Recapitulation and Inference, 297 PART IIL OBJECTIONS ANSWERED, 301 CHAP. I. The principles of this Effay confident with the interefts of fcience, and the rights of mankind, Imperfection of the School-logic, - 303 CHAP. THE CONTENTS. CHAP. II. The fabjeft continued. Eftimate of Me- taphyfic, 325 CHAP. III. Confluences of Metaphyfical Scepticifm, 385 POSTSCRIPT, * ,i*s 398 PREFACE PREFACE. T HIS Edition will, it is hoped, be found lefs faulty than any of the former. Se- veral inaccuracies are now removed, unne- cefTary words and fentences expunged, a few erroneous pafTages either cancelled or rectified, and fome new-modelled in the ftyle, which before feemed too harfhly or too flrongly ex- prefled. In regard to the reafonings and general prin- ciples of this Eflay, I have not as yet feen caufe to alter my opinion; though I have carefully attended to what has been urged againfl them by feveral ingenious authors. Some ob- jections will perhaps be found obviated by oc- cafional remarks and amendments interfperfed in this Edition. I once intended to have offered a more compleat vindication, and had actually prepared materials for it : but, finding them fwell to a confiderable bulk, and recol- lecting, that difputes of this nature, when once begun, are not foon terminated, and are apt to become lefs ufeful as they grow more volumi- nous, I was eafily prevailed with to lay afide that defign, at leail till Providence mould be pleafed to grant me better health. Even then, the profecution of this controverfy may not per- haps be thought requifite. To the wife a word is faid to be enough. If the principles of this Book B be x PREFACE. be good, they need no further fupport; if erroneous or bad, they deferve none. All I (hall add at prefent on this head, is, that after a long examination of thefe matters, it appears, not to me only, but to many other perfons of far fuperior underftanding, that my principles are founded on right reafon, and on that way of thinking and judging, which has in every age beenmoft familiar to the human mind. To ad- vance paradoxes, or to be an innovator in philo- fophy, was never my defign. I hate paradoxes ; I am no friend to innovation. If I cannot re- concile myfelf to fome modern theories of the underftanding, it is for this reafon, among others, becaufe I look upon them as paradoxical, and in- confiftent with thofe dictates of Rationality , which feem to me to be as old and as extenfive as human nature. It is pollible I may have thrown a little light on fome points relating to Moral Sci- ence; but to difcover in the human mind any thing which was never difcovered before, would require a degree of fagacity which I am cer- tain I do not poflefs. A complete theory of evidence is not to be ex- pected in this Book. The attentive reader will fee I never intended one. That is a very copi- ous and difficult fabjecl ; and I have not profe- cuted it farther than my argument feemed to require. It is with great pleafure I take this opportunity to declare, that the beft Theory of Evidence I have ever feen, is delivered by my ex- cellent Friend Dr. Campbell, in that moft inge- nious and learned performance, The Pbilofophy of Rhetoric. His principles and mine, though they PREFACE, xi they differ fomewhat in the arrangement, (in which I am inclined to think that his have the advantage), will not be found to differ in any thing material; I have been blamed for borrowing fome hints, without acknowledgement, from Dr. Price, Dr. Ofward, and Buffier. I beg leave to fay, that I am to this hour totally unacquainted with that work of Dr. Price which is alluded to ; and that, when I publifhed the firft Edition of the EfTay on Truth, I was totally unacquainted with the writings of Buffier and Dr. Ofwald. I had heard indeed, that the French Philofopher ufed the term Common Senfe in a way fimilar to that in which I ufe itj but this was only hear- fay; and I have fince found, that though be- tween his fundamental opinions and mine there is a ftriking refemblance, his application of that term is not entirely the fame; I fhould not have mentioned this, if I did not think, that it fupplies an argument in favour of our com- mon principles* I had finifhed all thefe papers for the prefsj when a friend at London fent me an Ad- vertifement, which had juft then appeared pre- fixed to a new Edition of Mr. Hume's EfTaysj and which, in juftice to that Au- thor, I (hall here infert, fubjoining a few re- marks in juftice to myfelf. " Moil of the principles and reafonings con- " tained in this Volume were publifhed in a l< work in three volumes, intituled, A Tircatifecf " Human Nature: a vvork, which the author " had projected before 'he left the college, and " which he wrote and publifhed not long after* B 2 * But xii P R E F ACE. " But not finding it fuccefsful, he was fenfible " of his error in going to the prefs too early, " and he caftthe whole anew in the following " pieces; where fome negligences in his former " reafoning, and more in the expreflion, are, " he hopes, corrected. Yet feveral writers, " who have honoured the author's philofophy " with anfwers, have taken care to direct all " their batteries againft that juvenile work, " which the author never acknowledged; and " have affected to triumph in any advantages " which, they imagined, they had obtained * c over it: a practice very contrary to all rules " of candour and fair-dealing, andaftrong in- " ftance of thofe polemical artifices, which a bi- " gotted zeal thinks itfeif authorifed to employ. " Henceforth the author deiires, that the fol- " lowing pieces may alone be regarded as con- " taininghis philofophical fentiments and prin- " ciples." Thus far Mr. Hume. I do not think it was with an evil purpofe, that any of thole who attacked this author's philofophy directed their batteries againft the Treafife of Human Nature. In regard to myfelf, the cafe was briefly this. Ever fmce I began to attend to matters of this kind, I had heard Mr, Hume's philofophy men^ tioned as a fyftem very unfriendly to religion both revealed and natural, as well as to fcience; and its author fpoken of as a teacher of fceptical and atheiftical doctrines, and withal as a moft acute and ingenious writer. I had reafon to be- lieve, that his arguments, and his influence as a great literary character, had done harm, by fub- verting or weakening the good principles of fome, and PREFACE. xiii and countenancing the licentious opinions of others. Being honoured with the care of a part of the Britifh youth ; and confidering it as my in- difpenfable duty (from which I truft I (hall ne- ver deviate) to guard their minds againft impiety and error, I endeavoured, among other ftudies that belonged to my office, to form a right efti- mate of Mr. Hume's philofophy, fo as not only to understand his peculiar tenets, but alfo to per- ceive their connection andconfequences. In forming this eftirnate, I thought it at once thefureft and the faireft method to begin with the Treatife of Human Nature ', which was allowed, and is well known to be, the ground- work of the whole; and in which fome of the principles and reafonings are more fully profecuted, and their connection and confequences more clearly feen by an attentive reader, (notwithstanding fome inferiority in point of ftyle), than in thofe more elegant republications of the fyftem, that laave appeared in the form of EJ/ays. Every found argument that may have been urged againft the paradoxes of the Treatife, particularly againft its firft principles, does, in my opinion, tend to difcredit the fyftem ; as every fuccefsful attempt to weaken the foundation of a building does \i\ effect promote the downfal of the fuperftructurel Paradoxes there are in the Treatife^ which are not in the E//ays; and, in like manner, there are licentious doctrines in thefe, which are not in the other : and therefore I have not directed all my batteries againft the firft. And if the plan I had in view when I publifhed this book, had been completed, the reader would have feen, that, though I began with the T'reatife of Human Na- B 3 ture, XIV PREFACE. ture, it was never my intention to end with it. In faft, the Eflay on Truth is only one part of what I had projected. Another part was then in fo great forwardnefs, that I thought its publica- tion not very remote, and had even made propo- fals to a bookfeller concerning it j tho' after- wards, on enlarging the plan, I found I had not taken fo wide a view of the fubjecl: as would be necefTary. In that part my meaning was, to have applied the principles of this Book to the illuftration of certain truths of morality and re- ligion, to which the reafonings of Helvetius, of Mr. Hume in his EJfays, and of fome other modern philofophers, feemed unfavourable. That work, however, I have been obliged, on account of my health, to lay afide ; and whether I mail ever be in a condition to refume it, is at prefent very uncertain. For thefe eighteen years paft, (and before that period I knew nothing of this author's writings), I have always heard the T'reatife of Human Nature fpoken of as the work of Mr. Hume. Till after publiming the Eflay on Truth, I knew not that it had ever been faid, or infmuated, or even fufpected, that he either did not acknowledge that Treatife, or wifhed it to be confidered as a work which he did not acknowledge. On the contrary, from his reprinting fo often, in EJ/ays that bore his name, mod of the principles and reafon- ings contained in it j and never, fo far as I had heard, difavqwing any part of it ; I could not but think, that he fet a very high value upon it. By the literary people with whom I was then acquainted it had been much read; and bv PREFACE. xv by many people it was much admired. And, in general, it was confidered as the author's chief work in philofophy, and as one of the moft cu- rious fyftems of human nature that had ever appeared. Thofe who favoured his principles fpoke of it as an unanfwerable perform- ance. And whatever its fuccefs might have been as an article of fale, (a circumftan.ce which I did not think it material to inquire in- to), I had reafon to believe, that as a fyftem of licentious doctrine it had been but too fucccfsful ; and that to the author's reputation as a philo- fopher, and to his influence as a promoter of infidelity, it had contributed not a little. Our author certainly merits praife, for thus publicly difowning, though late, his Treatife of Human Nature -, though I am forry to ob- ierve, from the tenor of his 4edaration, that he ftill feems inclined to adhere to and I am convinced, that their author, if he had lived to fee the inferences that have been drawn from them, would have been the firft to declare them abfurd, and would have expunged them from his works with indignation. BERKE* LEY was equally amiable in his life, and equally a friend INTRODUCTION. xxiii a friend to truth and virtue. Inelegance of compo- fition he was perhaps fuperior. I admire his vir- tues : I can never fufficiently applaud his zeal in the caufe of religion : but fome of his reafon- ings on the fubject of human nature I cannot ad- mit, without renouncing my claim to rationali- ty. There is a writer now alive, of whofe phi- lofophy I have much to fay. By his philofophy, I mean the fentiments he has publimed in a book called, A T'reatife of Human Nature, in three vo- lumes, printed in the year 1739; the principal doctrines of which he has fince republifhed again and again, under the title of, EJj'ays Moral and Political, &c. Of his other works I fay nothing; nor have I at prefent any concern with them. Virgil is faid to have been a bad profe- writer 5 Ci- cero was certainly a bad poet : and this author, though his philofophy of human nature be in many things exceedingly reprehenfible, may yet be a profound politician, and a learned, elegant, and accurate hiftorian. His high merit in thefe characters is indeed generally allowed : and if my fuffrage could add any thing to the luftre of his reputation, I fhould here, with great fmcerity and pleafure, join my voice to that of the pub- lic, and make fuch an encomium on the author of the Hiftory of England as would not offend any of his rational admirers. But why is this author's character fo replete with inconfiflency ! why fhould his principles and his talents extort at once our efteem and deteftation, our applaufe and contempt ! That he, whofe manners in pri- vate life are faid to be fo agreeable, fhould yet, in the public capacity of an author, have given fo much caufe of juft offence to all the friends of xxiv INTRODUCTION. of virtue and mankind, is to me matter of afto- nifhment and forrow, as well as of indignation. That he, who Succeeds fo well in defcribing the fates of nations, fhould yet have failed fo egre- gioufly in explaining the operations of the mind, is one of thofe incongruities in human genius, for which perhaps philofophy will never be able fully to account. That he, who has fo impartially ftated the oppofite pleas and principles of our political factions, fhould yet have adopted the mofl illiberal prejudices againft natural and reveal- ed religion: that he, who on many occafions has difplayed a profound erudition, fhould fome- times, when intoxicated with a favourite theory, have fufFered affirmations to efcape him, which men of no great learning might perceive to be ill founded : and, finally, that a moral philofo- pher, who feems to have exerted his utmoft in- genuity in fearching after paradoxes, fhould yet happen to light on none but fuch as are on the fide of licentioufhefs and fcepticifm : thefe are inconfiftencies equally inexplicable. And yet, that this author is chargeable with all thefe in- confiflencies, will not, I think, be denied by any perfon of fenfe and candour, who has read his writings with attention. His philofophy has done great harm. Its admirers, I know, are numerous ; but I have not as yet met with one perfon, who both admired and underftood it. We are prone to believe what we wifli to be true : and moil of this author's philofophical tenets are fo well adapted to what I fear I may call the fafhionable notions of the times, that thofe who are ambitious to conform to the latter, will hard- ly be- difpofed to examine fcrupnloufly the evi- dence INTRODUCTION. xxv dence of the former. Having made this declara- tion, which I do in the fpirit of an honeft man, I mull take the liberty to treat this author with that plainnefs, which the caufe of truth, and the interefls of fociety, feem to me to require. The fame candour that prompts me to praife, will al- fo oblige me to blame. The inconfiftency is not in me, but in him. Had I done but half as much as he, in labouring to fubvert principles which ought ever to be had facred, I know not whether the friends of truth would have granted me any indulgence; I am fure they ought not. If it fhall be acknowledged by the candid and intelligent reader, that I have in this book con- tributed fomething to the eftablifhment of old truths, I fhall not be much offended, though o- thers fhould pretend to difcover, that I have ad- vanced nothing new. Indeed I would not wifh to fay any thing on thefe fubjects, that has not often occurred to the rational part of mankind. In Logic and Ethics, we may have new treatifes, and new theories ; but we are not now to expect new difcoveries. The principles of moral duty have long been underflood in thefe enlightened parts of the world j and mankind, in the time that is paft, have had more truth under their confider- ation, than they will probably have in the time to come. Yet he who makes thefe fciences the ftudy of his life, may perhaps collect particulars concerning their evidence, which, though known to a few, are unknown to many ; may fet fome principles in a more ftriking light than that in which they have been formerly viewed; may devife methods of confuting new errors, and expofing new paradoxes j and may hit upon a C more xxvi INTRODUCTION. more popular way of difplaying what has hither- to been exhibited in too dark and myfterious a form. It is commonly allowed, that the fcience of human nature is of all human fciences the moft curious and important. To know ourfelves, is a precept which the wife in air ages have recom- mended, and which is enjoined by the authority of revelation itfelf . Can any thing be of more confequence to man, than to know what -is his duty, and how he may arrive at happinefs ? It is from the examination of his own heart, that he receives the firft intimations of the one, and the only fure criterion of the other. What can be more ufeful, more delightful, and more fublime, than to contemplate the Deity ? It is in the works of nature, particularly in the confli- tution of the human foul, that we difcern the firft and moftconfpicuous traces of the Almighty; for without fome previous acquaintance with our own moral nature, we could not have any cer- tain knowledge of His. Deftitute of the hope of immortality, and a future retribution, how contemptible, how miferable is man ! And yet, did not our moral feelings, in concert with what reafon difcovers of the Deity, evidence the pro- bability of a future ftate, and that it is necefia- ry to the full vindication of the divine govern- ment, we mould be much lefs qualified, than we now are, to judge rationally of that revelati- on, by which life and immortality have been brought to light. How then is this fcience to be learned ? In what manner are we to ftudy human nature ? Doubtlefs by examining our own hearts and feelings, INTRODUCTION. xxvii feelings, and by attending to the conduct of other men. But are not the writings of philo- fophers ufeful towards the attainment of this fcience ? Moft certainly they are : for whatever improves the fagacity of judgement, thefenfibi- lity of moral perception, or the delicacy of tafte; whatever renders our knowledge of moral and intellectual facts more extenfive; whatever im- preffes our minds with more enlarged and more powerful fentiments of duty, with more affecting views of God and Providence, and with greater energy of belief in the doctrines of natural religi* on ; every thing of this fort either makes us more thoroughly acquainted, or prepares us for be- coming more thoroughly acquainted with our own nature, and with that of other beings, and with the relations they and we bear to one ano- ther. But I fear we mall not be able to improve ourfelves in any one of thefe refpedts, by reading the modern fyflems of fcepticifm. What ac- count then are we to make of thofe fyflems and their authors ? The following efTay is partly de- figned as an anfwer to this queftion. But it has a further viw: which is, to examine the foun- dations of this fcepticifm, and fee whether thefe be confident with what all mankind acknowledge to be the foundations of truth; to inquire, whe- ther the cultivation of fcepticifm be lalutary or pernicious to fcience and mankind ; and whether it may not be poflible to devife certain criteria, by which the abfurdity of its conclufions may be detected, even by thofe who may not have leifure or fubtlety, or metaphyiical knowledge, fuffici- ent to qualify them for a logical confutation of all its premiies. If it be conferled, that the pre- C 2 Cent xxviii INTRODUCTION. fent age has fome tendency to licentioufnefs, both in principle and practice, and that the works of fceptical writers have fome tendency to favour that licentioufnefs; it will alfo be confefled, that this defign is neither abfurd nor unfeafona- ble. A celebrated writer * on human nature has obferved, that " if truth be at all within the " reach of human capacity, it is certain itmuft " lie very deep and abftrufe:" and a little after he adds, " that he would efteern it a ftrong " prefumption againft the philofophy he is going " to unfold, were it fo very eafy and obvious." I am fo far from adopting this opinion, that I declare, in regard to the few things I have to fay on human nature, that I fhould efteem it a very ftrong prefumption againft them, if they were not ealy and obvious. Phyfical and ma- thematical truths are often abftrufe ; but facts and experiments relating to the human mind, when exprefTed in proper words, ought to be obvious to all. I find that thofe poets, hiftori- ans, and noveiifis, who have given the moft live- ly difplays of human nature, and who abound moft in fentiments eafily comprehended, and rea- dily admitted as true, are the moft entertaining, as well as the moft ufeful. How then mould the philofophy of the human mind be fo difficult ? Indeed, if it be an author's determinate purpofe to advance paradoxes, fome of which are incre- dible, and others beyond comprehenfion ; if he be willing to avail himfelf all he can of the natu- ral ambiguity of language in fupporting thofe paradoxes ; or if he enter upon inquiries too re- fined * Treatife of Human Nature, vol. i. p. 3. 4. INTRODUCTION. xxix fined for human underftanding ; he muft often be obfcure, and often unintelligible. But my views are very different. I intend only to fuggeft fome hints for guarding the mind againft error; and thefe, I hope, will be found to be deduced from principles which every man of common capacity may examine by his daily experience. It is true, that feveral fubje6ls of intricate fpe- culation are treated of in this book. But I have endeavoured, by conftant appeals to facl: and ex- perience, by illuftrations and examples the moft familiar I could think of, and by a plainnefs and perfpicuity of expreflion which fometimes may appear too much affected, to treat of them in a way, that I hope cannot fail to render them in- telligible, even to thofe who are not much con- verfant in ftudies of this kind. Truth, like vir^ tue, to be loved, needs only to be feen, My principles require no difguife j on the contrary, they will, if I miftake not, be moft eafily admit- ted by thofe who beft underftand them. And I am perfuaded, that the fceptical fyftem would never have made fuch an alarming progrefs, if it had been well underftood. The ambiguity of its language, and the intricacy and length of fome of its fundamental inveftigations, have un^ happily been too fuccefsful in producing that confufion of thought, and indiftinctnefs of ap- prehenfion, in the minds both of authors and readers, which are fo favourable to error and fophiftry. Few men have ever engaged in controverfy, religious, political, or philofophiqal, without being in fome degree chargeable with mifconcep- tion of the adverfary's meaning. That I have C 3 never xxx INTRODUCTION, never erred in this way, I dare not affirm. But I am confcious of having done every thing in my power to guard againft it. The greater part of thefe papers have lain by me for feveral years. They have been repeatedly perufed by fome of the acuteft philofophers of the age, whom I have the honour to call my friends, and to whofe advice and affiftance, on this, as on other occa- jfions, I am deeply indebted. I have availed myfelf all I could of reading and converfation ; and endeavoured, with all the candour I am mailer of, to profit by every hint of improve- ment, and to examine to the bottom every ob- jection, that others have offered, or myfelf could devife. And may I not be permitted to add, that every one of thofe who have perufed this eflay, has advifedthe author to publifh it; and that many of them have encouraged him by this infmuation, to him the moft flattering of aty others, That by fo doing, he would probably be of fome fervice to the caufe of truth, virtue, and mankind? In this hope he fubmits it to the pub- lic. And it is this hope only that could have induced him to attempt polemical difquifition : a fpecies of writing, which in his own judge- ment, is not the moft creditable; which he knows, to his coft, is not the moft pleafmg; and of which he is well aware that it will draw upon him the refentment of a numerous, powerful, and fafhionabie party. But, Welcome for tbee, fair Virtue ! all tbepaft; For tkee, fair Virtue ! welcome even the loft, If INTRODUCTION. xxxi If thefe pages, which he hopes none will con- demn who have not read, fhall throw any light on the firft principles of moral fcience ; if they fhall fuggeft, to the young and unwary, any cau- tions againft that fophiftry, and licentioufnefs of principle, which too much infect the con- verfations and compofitions of the age ; if they fhall, in any meafure, contribute to the fatis- fac~tion of any of the friends of truth and vir- tue ; his purpofe will be completely anfwered : and he will, to the end of his life, rejoice in the recollection of thofe painful hours which he pa/Ted in the examination of this moft important controverfy. "January ', 1770. A N ESSAY ON THE NATURE and IMMUTABILITY O F TRUTH, IN OPPOSITION TO SOPHISTRY and SCEPTICISM. I PURPOSE to treat this fubject in the following manner. FIRST, I fhall endeavour to trace the feveral kinds of Evidence and Reafoning up to their firft principles ; with a view to afcertain the Stand- ard of Truth, and explain its immutability. SECONDLY, I fhall fhow, that my fentiments on this head, however inconfiftent with the ge- nius of fcepticifm, and with the practice and principles of fceptical writers, are yet perfectly confiftent with the genius of true philofophy, and with the practice and principles of thofe who are allowed to have been the moft fuccefsful in the inveftigation of truth : concluding with fome in- ferences or rules, by which the more important fallacies of the fceptical philofophy may be de*. tected by every perfon of common fenfe, even though he fhould not poflefs acutenefs or meta- phyfical 34 A N E S S A Y Parti. phyfical knowledge fufficient to qualify him for a logical confutation of them. THIRDLY, I fhall anfwer fome objections j and make fome remarks, by way of Eftimate offcep- ticifm andfceptical writers. I divide my difcourfe in this manner, chiefly with a view to the reader's accommodation. An exact arrangement of parts is neceflary to confer elegance on a whole ; but I am more ftudious of utility than of elegance. And though my fen- timents might have been exhibited in a more fyilematic order, I am apt to think, that the or- der in which they firft occurred to me is the mofl natural, and may be the moft effectual for accomplifhing my purpofe. T PART I. OF THE STANDARD OF TRUTH. HE love of truth has ever been accounted a good principle. Where it is known to pre- vail, we expect to find integrity and fteadinefs ; a temper of mind favourable to every virtue, and tending in an eminent degree to public utility. To have no concern for the truth, to be falfe and fallacious, is a character which no perfon who is not utterly abandoned would chufe to bear ; it is a character from which we expect nothing but levity and inconfiftence. Truth feems to be conftdered by all mankind as fome- thing fixed, unchangeable and eternal ; it may therefore be thought, that to vindicate the per- manency of truth is to difpute without an ad- yerfary. And indeed, if thefe queftions were propofed Ch. I. O N T R U T H 35 propofed in general terms, Is there fuch a thing as truth ? Are truth and falfehood different and op- polite ? Is truth permanent and eternal ? few perfons would be hardy enough to anfwer in the negative. Attempts, however, have been made, fometimes through inadvertence, and fometimes (I fear) from defign, to undermine the foundations of truth, and to render their {lability queftionable ; and thefe attempts have been fo vigoroufly forwarded, and fo often re- newed, that they now conftitute a great part of what is called the philofophy of the human mind. It is difficult, perhaps impoffible, to give a .definition of Truth. But we fhall endeavour to give fuch a defcription of it, as may make others undefftand what we mean by the word. The definitions of former writers are not fo clear, nor fo accurate, as could be wifhed. Thefe therefore we sh all overlook, without feeking either to explain or to correct them ; and fhall fatify ourfelves with taking notice of fome of the mental phenomena that attend the perception of truth. This feems to be the faf- eft way of introducing the fubjecl. CHAPTER I. Of the perception of Truth in genera!. N hearing thefe proportions, I exift, Things equal to one and the fame tiling are equal to one another, The fun rofe to- day, There is a God, Ingratitude ought to be blamed 3 6 A* N E S S A Y Parti. blamed and punifhed, The three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, &c. I am confcious, that my mind admits and acqui- efces in them. I fay, that I believe them to be true ; that is, I conceive them to exprefs fome- thing conformable to the nature of things. * Of the contrary propofitions I fhould fay, that my mind does not acquiefce in thm, but difbe- lieves them, and conceives them to exprefs fome- thing not conformable to the nature of things. Myjudgement in this cafe, I conceive to be the fame that I (hould form in regard to thefe propofiti- ons, if I were perfectly acquainted with all na- ture, in all its parts, and in all its laws -f. If I be afked, what I mean by the nature of things., I cannot otherwife explain myfelf, than by faying, that there is in my mind fomething which induces me to think, that every thing ex- ifting in nature, is determined to exift, and to exift after a certain manner, in confequence of eftablifhed laws j and that whatever is agreea- ble to thofe laws is agreeable to the nature of things, becaufe by thofe laws the nature of all things is determined. Of thofe laws I do not pretend to know any thing, except fo far as they feem to be intimated to me by my own feel- ings, and by the fuggeftions of my own un- derftanding. But thefe feelings and fuggefti- ons are fuch, and affecT: me in fuch a manner, that I cannot help receiving them, and trufting in them, and believing that their intimations are Arifto. Metaph. lib. 2. cap. i. f This remark, when applied to truth in general, is fubjeft to certain limitations; for which fee part 2. chap. i. feft. 3. Ch. I. O N T R U T H. 37 are not fallacious, but fuch as I fhould approve if I were perfectly acquainted with every thing in the univerfe, and fuch as I may ap- prove, and admit of, and regulate my conducl: by, without danger of any inconvenience. It is not eafy on this fubjecl: to avoid iden- tical expreflions. I am not certain that I have been able to avoid them. And perhaps I might have exprefled my meaning more fhortly and more clearly, by faying, that I account That to be truth which the Conftituti- on of our nature determines us to believe, and That to be falfehood which the conftitution of our nature determines us to difbelieve -f-. Be- lieving and difbelieving are fimple a6ls of the mind; I can neither define nor defcribe them in words ; and therefore the reader muft judge of their nature from his own experience. We often believe what we afterwards find to be falfe ; but while belief continues, we think it true ; when we difcover its fallity, we believe it no longer. Hitherto I have ufed the word belief 'to de- note an acl: of the mind which attends the per- ception of truth in general. But truths are of different kinds ; fome are certain, others only probable : and we ought not to call that acl: of the mind which attends the perception of certainty, and that which attends the percepti- on of probability, by one and the fame name. Some f I might have faid more exp%itly, but the meaning is the fame, " That I account that to be truth which the conftitution " of human nature determines man to believe, and that to be " falfehood which the conftitution of human nature determine^ " man to difbelieve. >/s 38 ANESSAY Parti. Some have called the former wmjjtfion, and the latter a/ent. All convictions are equally ftrong : but aiTent admits of innumerable de- grees, from moral certainty, which is the higheft degree downward, through the feveral ftages of opinion, to that fufpenfe of judgement which is called doubt. We may, without abfurdity, fpeak of pro- bable truth, as well as of certain truth. What- ever a rational being is determined, by the con- ftitution of his nature, to admit as probable, may be called probable truth j the acknowledge- ment of it is as univerfal as that rational na- ture, and will be as permanent. But, in this inquiry, we propofe to confine ourfelves chiefly to that kind of truth which may be called cer- tain, which enforces our conviction, and the be- lief of which, in a found mind, is not tinc~lured with any doubt or uncertainty. The investigation and perception of truth is commonly afcribed to our rational faculties ; and thefe have by fome been reduced to two ; Reafon and Judgement j the former being fup- pofed to be converfant about certain truths, the latter chiefly about probabilities. But cer- tain truths are not all of the fame kind ; fome being fhpported by one fort of evidence, and others by another: different energies of the understanding muft therefore be exerted in per- ceiving them j and thefe different energies muft be exprelied by different names, if we would fpeak of them diftinclily and intelligibly. The certainty of ibme truths, for inflance, is perceived intuitive- ly j the certainty of others is perceived not in- tuitively, but in confequence of a proof, Mofb of Ch. I. O N T R U T H. 39 of the proportions of Euclid are of the latter kind j the axioms of geometry are of the for- mer. Now, if that faculty by which we per- ceive truth in confequence of a proof, be called Reafon, that power by which we perceive felf- evident truth, ought to be diftinguifhed by a different name. It is of little confequence what name we make choice of, provided that in chuling it we depart not from the analogy of language j and that in applying it, we avoid equivocation and ambiguity.* Some philofo- phers of note j- have given the name of Com- mon Senfe to that faculty by which we perceive felf-evident truth ; and, as the term feems pro- per enough, we mall adopt it. But in a lub- ject of this kind, there is great danger of our being impofed upon by words j we cannot therefore be too much upon our guard againrt that fpecies of illufion. We mean to draw fome important inferences from this doctrine of the diftinftion between Reafon and Com- mon Senfe. Now thefe words are not always ufed in the ftric~t fignification we have here af- figned them : let us therefore take a view of all the fimilar fenfes in which they are commonly ufed, and let us explain more particularly that fenfe in which we are to ufe them ; and thus we fhall take every method in our power to fe-* cure ourfelves againft the impropriety of con-* founding our notions by the ufe of ambiguous and indefinite language. Thefe philological dif- cuflions * We might call the one Reafon and the other Reafoning ; but the fimilarity of the terms would frequently occafion both ol> fcurity in the fenfe, and karfhnefs in the found. f Dr. Reid, &c. 40 A N E S S A Y Part L cufllons are indeed no part of philofophy j but they are very neceflary to prepare us for it. vo)/xo(ryi of the Greek Stoics feems to mean that tienevolent affection which men owe to fociety and to one ano- 1 ther. Some modern moralifts have called it the Public Senfe. But the notion or idea we mean to exprefs by the term Common Senfe is quite different. The Senfes Communis of the Latins hath feveral fignifications. 1. It denotes this Public Senfe, or xoixoxMj/xoo-um. See Sbaftejbu- rj's EJ/ays on the fretdom of ivit and humour, part 3* fe8. i. Note. 2. It denotes that experience and knowledge of life which is acquired by living in fociety. Thus Horace feems to ufe it, lib. i. fatin 3. ' lin. 66. And thus Quintilian, fpeak- ing of the advantages of a public education: " Senfum ipfum qui communis dicitur, ubi difcet, cum fe a congreflu, qui non ho- minibus folum, fed mutis quoque animalibus naturalis eft, fegre^ garitj" lib. i. cap. 2. 3. It feems to fignify that inftinftive perfuafion of truth which arifes from intuitive evidence, and is the foundation of all reafoning : " Corpus enim per (e communis deliquat efle " Senfus : quo nifi prima fides fundata valebit, " Haud erit occultis de rebus quo referentes *' Confirmare animi quicquam ratione queamus.'* Lucretius, lib. I. ver. 423. Ch. I. O N T R U t H 41 Dignities, Principles and Common Sentiments* ; and fays of them, " That they are known by " their own evidence -f-; that except fome firft c< principles be taken for granted, there can * c be neither reafon nor reafoning J ; that it c< is impoffible that every truth fhould admit u of proof, otherwife proof would extend in in- tc Jinitum^ which is incompatible with its na- j Qoitau, rs ckirofyoiiiui' xa ufrvvctTov ri^x, tr\vo,\ x.a.1 /Airman. Metaphyf. lit. 3*. fi*/. 2; f Analytic, hi. 2. cap. 16.- ^-Of thefe firft principles, a French Peripatetic, who wrote about the beginning of the laft century, exprefles himfelf thus : " Ces principes portent le nom de communs, non feuleinent parce qu'ils fervent a plufieurs fci- ences, mais auffi parce que {'intelligence en eft commune a tons. On les appelle auffi dignitex et notions communes : a f9avoir, dig- nitez, quafi comme dignes entre toutes les autres qu'on y adi- oufte foy, a caufe de la grande excellence de lew clarte et evi- dence ; et notions communes, pour ce qu'ils font fi connus, qu* auffi toft que la fignification des termes dont ils font compofez eft entendue, fans difcourir ny argumenter davantage deflus, chacun entend naturellement leur verite ; li ce n'eft quelque hebete prive de raifon ; lequel je revoye a Ariftote, qui pro- nonce, que ceux qui doutent, qu'il faut reverer les Dieux, ou aymer les parents, meritent d'eftre punis ; et que ceux qui dou- tent que la nege eft blanche ont befoin de fens ; et a Averroes, qui dit, que ceux qui ne fcauroient diftinguer ce qui eft connu par foy d'avec ce qui ne 1'eft pas, font incapables de philofo- pher ; et que ne pouvoir connoiftre ces principes, precede de quelque defaut de nature, ou de peu d'exercife, ou d'une mau- vaife accouftumance enracinee. D " prove Corps de toute la Pbilofophie de Theophrajle Boitju, p, 79. J Mj^ yag TtStyTes, ittg5ir TO ^aXiyto-Sar, xa oXw? Aoyoi-' Ariftot. Metaphyf. lib. 2. cap. 6. |] ''OXw; [j.iv yo-p ottrwruv ctoLvonw aTTocta^iv en/at' ? cfSfmeot yxe ctr arf ,M.I^' ot/Tfc 1 ? twxt atTc$*nt' Jri/tot. Mefyffy/. lib. 4. cap. 4, 42 A N E S S A Y Part L '' prove a firft principle, it is becaufe they are C ignorant of the nature of rjroof*." The word Reafon is ufed in different fenfes, i. It is ufed to fignify that quality of human nature which diftinguifhes man from the infe- rior animals. Man is called a reafonable being, and the brutes are faid to be irrational. But the faculty of reafon, taking the word in a ftrift fenfe, is perhaps not more characleriftical of the nature of man, than his moral faculty, or his imagination, or his power of artificial lan- guage, or his rifibility. Reafon, in this ac- ceptation, feems to be a general name for all the intellectual powers, as diftinguimed from the ienfitive part of our conftitution. 2. Every thing that is called truth is faid to be perceiv- ed by reafon : by reafon, we are faid to perceive, that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles : and we are alfo faid to per- ceive, by reafon, that it is impoflible for the fame thing to be, and not ta be. But thefe truths are of different kinds ; and therefore the energies of underflanding to which they are referred, ought to be called by different names. 3 . The power of invention is fometimes afcrib- ed to reafon. LOCKE tells us, that it is reafon which difeovers and arranges the feveral inter- mediate proofs in an argument; an office which, according to the common ufe of words, is to- be referred, not to reafon, but tt> imagi- nation. Arijh Metaphyf. lib. 4. cap. 4. I cite thefe authorities, that I may not be fuppofed to affeft ei- ther an uncommon dodlrine, or uncommon modes of expreffion. Ch. I. O N T R U T H. 43 natLon. 4. Reafon, as implying a faculty not marked by any other name, is ufed by thofe who are moft accurate in diftinguifhing, to fignify that power of the human mind by which we draw inferences, or by which we are convinced, that a relation belongs to two ideas, on account of our having found, that thefe ideas bear cer- tain relations to other ideas. In a word, it is that faculty which enables us, from relations or ideas that are known, to inveftigate fuch as are unknown? and without which we never could proceed iri the difcovery of truth a fingle ftep beyond fail principles or intuitive axioms. And it is in this laft fenfe we are to ufe the word Reafon in the courfe of this inquiry. The term Common Senfe has alfo feveral differ- ent fignifications. i. Sometimes it feemsto be fynonymous with prudence. Thus we fay, that a man has a large ftock of common fenfe, who is quick in perceiving remote confequences, and thence inftantaneoufly determines concerning the propriety of prefent conduct. 2 We often meet with perfons of great fagacity in moil of the ordinary affairs of life, and veiy capable of ac- curate reafoning, who yet, without any bad in- tention, commit blunders in regard to decorum ? by faying or doing what is offenfive to their company, and inconfiftent with their own cha- racter : and this we are apt to impute to a defect in common fenfe. But it feems rather to be ow- ing to a defect in that kind of fenfibility, or fympathy, by which we fuppofe ourfelves in the fituations of others, adopt their fentiments, and in a manner perceive their thoughts j and which D 2 is 44 A N E S S A Y, Part I. is indeed the foundation of good breeding*. It is by this fecret, and fudden, and (to thofe who are unacquainted with it) inexplicable, communication of feelings, that a man is enabled to avoid what would appear incongruous or of- fenfive. They who are prompted by inclina- tion, or obliged by neceflity, to fhidy the art of recommending themfelves to others, acquire a wonderful facility in perceiving and avoiding all poffible ways of giving offence j which is a proof, that this kind of fenfibility may be im- proved by habit : although there are, no doubt, in refpecl: of this, as well as of fome other mo- difications of perception, original and conftitu- tional differences in the frame of different minds. 3. Some men are diftinguifhedby an uncommon acutenefs in difcovering the characters of others : they feem to read the foul in the countenance, and with a iingle glance to penetrate the deepeft recedes of the heart. In their prefence, the hy- pocrite is detected, notwithstanding his Ipeci- ous outfide the gay effrontery of the coxcomb cannot conceal his infignificance ; and the man of merit appears confpicuous under all the dif- guifes of an ungainly modefty. This talent is fometimes called Common Senfe; but improperly. It is far from being common j it is even exceed- ingly rare : it is to be found in men who are not remarkable for any other mental excellence; and we often fee thole who in other refpe6h are judicious enough, quite deftitute of it. 4. Nei- ther ought every common opinion to be referred to common fenfe. Modes in drefs 3 religion, and converfation, however abfurd in themfelves, may * See Smith's Theory of moral fentiments, feft. i. Ch. I. O N T R U T H. 45 may fuit the notions or the tafte of a particular people: but none of us will fay, that it is agree- able to common fenfe, to worfhip more gods than one ; to believe that one and the fame body may be in ten thoufand different places at the fame time * ; to like a face the better becaufe it is painted, or to diflike a perfon becaufe he does not lifp in his pronunciation. Laftly, The term Common Senfe has been ufed by fome philo- fophers to figniry that power of the mind which perceives truth, or commands belief, not by progreffive argumentation, but by an inftanta- neous and inftincTiive impulfe; derived neither from education nor from habit, but from na- ture ; acting independently on our will, whene r ver its object: is prefented, according to an efta- blifhed law, and therefore not improperly call- ed Senfe ; and acting in a fimilar manner upon all mankind, and therefore properly called Com- mon Senfe. It is in this fignification that the term Common Senfe is ufed in the prefent inqui- ry. That there is a real and effential difference between thefe two faculties ; that common fenfe cannot be accounted for, by being called the perfection of reafon, nor reafon, by being re- fblved into common fenfe, will perhaps appear from the following remarks, i. We are con- fcious, from internal feeling, that the energy of underftanding which perceives intuitive truth, is different from that other energy which unites a conclufion with a mil principle, by a gradual chain of intermediate relations. We believe the truth of an inveftigated conclufion, becaufe we * Tranfubftantiaticni. 4-6 ANESSAY Part I. we can aflign a reafon for our belief: we believe an intuitive principle, without being able to af- ngn any other reafon but this, that we know it to be true ; or that the law of our nature, or the conftitution of the human underftanding, determines us to believe it. 2. We cannot dif- cern any neceffary connection between reafon and common fenfe : they are indeed generally con- nected; but we can conceive a being endued with the one who is deftitute of the other. Nay, we often find, that this is in fact the cafe. In dreams, we fometimes reafon without com- mon fenfe. Through a defect of common fenfe, we adopt abfurd principles; but fuppofmg our principles true, our reafoning is often unexcep- tionable. The fame thing may be obferved in certain kinds of madnefs. A man who believes himfelf made of glafs, fhall yet reafon very juftly concerning the means of preferving his iuppofed brittlenefs from flaws and fractures. It deferves alfo to be remarked, that a diftinction limilar to the prefent is acknowledged by the vulgar, who fpeak of mother-wit as fomething different from the deductions of reafon, and the refinements of fcience. When puzzled with ar- gument, they have recourfe to their common fenfe, and acquiefce in it fo fteadily ? as to render all the arts of the logician ineffectual. " I am confuted, but not convinced," is an apology fometimes offered, when one has nothing to op- pofe to the arguments of the antagonift, but the original undifguifed feelings of his mind. This apology is indeed very inconfiftent with the dig- nity of philoibphic pride; which, taking for granted that nothing exceeds the limits of hu- man Ch. I. O N T R U T H. 47 man capacity, profefles to confute whatever it cannot believe, and which is ftill more difficult, to believe whatever it cannot confute : but this apology may be perfectly confiftent with fince- rity and candour ; and with that principle of which Pope fays, that " though no fcience it " is fairly worth the feven." Thus far I have endeavoured to diftinguifh thofe two powers of our rational nature, to which I give the names Reafon and Common Strife. Their connection and mutual depen- dence, and the extent of their refpective jurif- dictions, I now proceed more particularly to in- veftigate. I ought perhaps to make an apo- logy for thefe, and fome other metaphorical expreffions. And indeed it were to be wifhed, that in all matters of fcience, they could be laid afide ; for the indifcreet ufe of metaphor has done great harm, by leading philofophers to miftake verbal analogies for real ones ; and of- ten, too, by giving plaufibility to nonfenfe, as well as by difguifmg very plain doctrines with an affected pomp of high-founding words and gaudy images. But in the philofophy of the hu- man mind, it is impoflible to keep clear of me- taphor; becaufe we cannot fpeak intelligibly of immaterial things, without continual allufi- ons to matter, and its qualities. All I need to fay further on this head is, that I mean not by thefe metaphors to impofe upon the reader j and that I mail do my utmoft to prevent their impofmg upon myfelf. It is ftrange to obferve, with what reluc- tance fome people acknowledge the power of inflinct. That man is governed by reafon, the 48 ANESSAY Part J. the brutes by inftinft, is a favourite topic with certain philosophers j who like other fro ward chil- dren, fpurn the hand that leads them ; and de- fire, above all things, to be left at their own dif- pofal. Were this boaft founded on truth, it might be fuppofed to mean little more, than that man is governed by himfelf, and the brutes by their Maker *, But, luckily fqr man, it is not founded in truth, but in ignorance and inattention. Our inftinfts, as well as our ra- tional powers, are far fuperipr, both in number and dignity, to thofe which the brutes enjoy ; and it were welj for us, on many occafions, if we laid our fyftems afide, and were more atten- tive to thefe impulfes of nature wherein reafon has no part. Far be it from me to fpeak with difrefpe6i of any of the gifts of God; every work of his is good ; but the beft things, when abufed, may become pernicious. Reafon is a noble faculty, and, when kept within its pro- per fphere, and applied to ufeful purpofes, proves a means of exalting human creatures almoft to the rank of fuperior beings. But this faculty has been much perverted, often to vile, and often to infignificant purpofes ; fome- times chained like a ilave or malefactor, and fometimes fqaring in forbidden and unknown regions. No wonder, then, if it has been fre- quently made the inftrument of feducing and bewildering mankind, and of rendering philo- fophy contemptible. In * And Reafon raife o'er Jnflinft as you can, In thi^ 'tis God direfts, in that 'tis man. Popis EJJay on Man, Ep. 3. ) (a) Seft i. . (b) Sea. 2. or 52 A N E S S A Y. Parti. cleareft, and advancing gradually to thofe which are mare complicated, or lefs perfpicu- ous. SECTION I. Of Mathematical Reafoning. i H E evidence that takes place in pure ma- thematics, produces the higheft aflurance and certainty in the mind of him who attends to, and underftands it; for no principles are admitted into this fcience, but fuch as are either felf evident, or fufceptible of demonftra- tion. Should a man refufe to aflent to a de- monftrated conclufion, the world would impute the refufal, either to want of underftanding, or to want of honefty : for eveiy perfon of un- derftanding feels, that by mathematical demon- ftration he muft be convinced whether he will or not. There are two kinds of mathematical demonftration. or INTERNAL (c) ; 2. Of MEMORY (d) \ and, 3. Of LEGITI- MATE INFERENCES OF THE CAUSE FROM THE EFFECT (e). Our knowledge is probable, when, from fafls already experienced, we argue, i. to fadl OF THE SAME KIND (f) not experienced ; and, 2. to fads OF A SIMILAR KIND (g) not experienced. 2. Judging of Real Exigences from the experience of other men, we have the EVIDENCE OF THEIR TESTIMONY (b). The mode of underftanding produced by that evidence is properly cal- led Fajtb ; and this faith fometimes amounts to probable opinion, and fometimes rifes even to abfolute certainty. (c) Seft. 3. (d) Seft. 4. (e) Sea. 5. (f) Sea. 6. (g) Sea. 7. (k) Sea. 8. Ch. II. i. O N T R U T H. 53 demonftration. The firft is called direEt ; and takes place when a conclufion is inferred from premifes that render it neceffarily true: and this perhaps is a more perfect, or at leaft a rim- pier, kind of proof, than the other ; but both are equally convincing. The other kind is cal- led indirect, apagogical, or dttcens ad abfurdum ; and takes place, when, by fuppofmg a proportion falfe, we are led into an abmrdity, which there is no other way to avoid, than by fuppofing the proportion true. In this man- ner it is proved, that the proportion is not, and cannot be, falfe ; in other words, that it is a certain truth. Eveiy ftep in a mathematical proof, either is felf evident, or muft have been formerly demonftrated ; and every demonftrati- on does finally refolve itfelf into intuitive or felf- evident principles, which it is impoflible to prove, and equally impoflible to difbelieve. Thefe firft principles conftitute the foundation of mathe- matics : if you difprove them, you overturn the whole fcience ; if you refufe to believe them, you cannot, confiftently with fuch refufal, ac- quiefce in any mathematical truth whatfoever. But you may as well attempt to blow out the fun, as to difprove thefe principles : and if you fay, that you do not believe them *, you will be charged either with falfehood or with folly - y you may as well hold your hand in the fire, and lay that you feel no pain. By the law of our na- ture, * Si quelque opiniaflre les nie de la voix, on ne Ten fyauriot empefcher ; mais cela ne luy eft pas permis interieurement en fon efprit, parce que fa lumiere naturelle y repugne, qui eft la partie ou fe rapporte la demonftration et le fyllogifme, et non aux pa- roles externes. Au moyen de quoy s'il fe trouve quelqu'un qui ne les puifle entendre, cettuy-la eft incapable de difcipline. DaleBiqne dt Bcujou, liv. 3. ch. 3. 54 ANESSAY Parti. ture, we muft feel in the one cafe, and believe in the other; even as, by the fame law, we muft adhere to the earth, and cannot fall head- long to the clouds, But who will pretend to prove a mathema- tical axiom, That a whole is greater than a part, or, That things equal to one and the fame thing are equal to one another ? Every proof muft be more evident than the thing to be pro- ved. Can you then affume any more evident principle, from which the truth of thefe axioms may be confequentially inferred ? It is impofli- bie ; becaufe they are already as evident as any thing can be -j~. You may bring the matter to the teft of the fenfes, by laying a few halfpence and farthings upon the table 5 but the evidence of f Different opinions have prevailed concerning the nature of thefe geometrical axioms. Some fuppofe, that an axiom is not fclf-evident, except it imply an identical propofition ; that there- fore this axiom, // is impojfible for the fame thing at the fame time, to be and not to be, is the only axiom that can properly be called intuitive ; and that all thofe other propofitions commonly called axioms, ought to be demonftrated by being refolved into this fun- damental axiom. But if this could be done, mathematical truth would not be one whit more certain than it is. Thofe other axi- oms produce abfolute certainty, and produce it immediately, without any procefs of thought or reafoning that we can difcover. And if the truth of a propofition be clearly and certainly per- ceived by all men without proof, and if no proof whatever could make it more clear or more certain, it feems captious not to al- low that propofition the name of Intuitive Axioms. Others fup- poie, that though the demonftration of mathematical axioms is not abfoluteiy neceiTary, yet that thefe axioms are fufceptible of iiiemonftration, and ought to be demonftrated to thofe who require it*- Dr. Barrow is of this opinion. So is Apollonius ; who a- grceably to it, has attempted a demonftration of this axiom, That things equal to one and the fame thing are equal to one another. - Hut whatever account we make of thefe opinions, they affect not our doctrine. However far the demonftration of axioms maybe carried, it muft at lait terminate in one principle of common fenfe, if not in many ; which principle we muft believe without proof, whether we will or no. Ch. II. i. O N T R U T H. 55 of fenfe is not more unqueftionable, than that of abftraft intuitive truth ; and therefore the former evidence, though to one ignorant of the meaning of the terms, it might ferve to explain and illuftrate the latter, can never prove it. But not to reft any thing on the fignificatioii ive affix to the wordproof-, and to remove every poffibility of doubt as to this matter, let us fup- pofe, that the evidence of external fenfe is more unqueftionable than that of abftract intuitive truth, and that every intuitive principle in ma- thematics may thus be brought to the teft of fenfe , and if we cannot call the evidence of fenfe a proof, let us call it a confirmation of the abftract principle : yet what do we gain by this method of illuftration ? We only difcover, that the evidence of abftracl intuitive truth is refolva- ble into, or may be illuftrated by, the evidence of fenfe. And it will be feen in the next fec- tion, that we believe in the evidence of external fenfe, not becaufe we can prove it to be true, but becaufe the law of our nature determines us to believe in it without proof. So that in whatever way we view this fubjec~t, the point we mean to illuftrate appears certain, namely, " That all mathematical truth is founded in. that I fee by the light of the fun, and not by the light of a candle ; that I feel the ground hard under my feet; and that I lean againft a real material table, as I can be of the truth of any geometrical axiom, or of any demonftrated conclufion; nay, I am as certain of all this as of my own exiftence. But I cannot prove by argument, that there is fuch a thing as matter in the world, or even that I myfelf exift: and yet I know as afTuredly, that I do exift, and that there is a real material fun, and a real material world, with mountains, trees, houfes, and animals, exifting feparately, and indepen- dently on me and my faculties ; I fay, I know all this with as much aflurance of conviction, as the moft irrefragable demonftration could produce. Is it unreafonable to believe in thefe cafes without proof? Then, I affirm, it is equally unreafonable to believe in any cafe with proof. Our belief in either cafe is unavoidable, and according to the law of our nature; and if it be unreafonable to think according to the law of our nature, it muft be equally unreafonable to adhere to the earth, to be nouriihed with food, or to die when the head is feparated from the bo- dy. It is indeed eafy to affirm any thing, provi- ded a man can reconcile himfelf to hypocrify and E 2 falfehood. 60 ANESSAY Part L falfehood. A man may affirm, that he fees with the foles of his feet, that he believes there is no material world, that he doubts of his own exiftence. He may as well fay, that he believes one and two to be equal to fix, a part to be great- er than a whole, a circle to be a triangle ; and that it may be poffible for the fame thing, at the lame time, to be and not to be. But it is faid, that our fenfes do often impofe upon us ; and that by means of reafon we are enabled to detect the impofture, and to judge rightly even where our fenfes give us wrong in- formation - y that therefore our belief in the evi- dence of fenfe is not inftinftive or intuitive, but fuch as may be either confuted or confirmed by reafoning. We {hall acknowledge that our fen- fes do often impofe upon us : but a little atten- tion will convince us, that reafon,, though it may be employed in correcting the prefent falla- cious fenfation, by referring it to a former fen- fation, received by us, or by other men, is not the ultimate judge in this matter; for that all fuch reafoning is refolvable into this principle of common fenfe, That things are what our exter- nal fenfes reprefent them. One inftance will fuffice at prefent for illuflration of this point *.. After having looked a moment at the fun, I fee a black, or perhaps a luminous, circle fwim- ming in the air, apparently at the diftance of two or three feet from my eyes. That I fee fuch a circle, is certain; that I believe I fee it, is certain; that I believe its appearance to be owing to fome caufe, is alfo certain : thus far there can be no im- poflure, and there is no fuppofition of any. Suppofe * See part 2. chap. i. fe&. 2. Ch. II. 2. ON TRUTH. 6* Suppofe me from this appearance to conclude, that a real, folid, tangible or vifible, round fub- ftance, of a black or yellow colour, is actually fwimming in the air before me; in this I fhould be miftaken. How then come I to know that I am miftaken ? I may know it in feveral ways. i . I ftretch out my hand to the place where the circle feems to be floating in the air ; and having felt nothing, I am imlantly convinced, that there is no tangible fubftance in that place. Is this conviction an inference of reafon? No; it is a conviction arifmg from our innate propenfity to believe, that things are as our fenfes repre- fent them. By this innate or inftinctive pro- penfity I believe that what I touch exifls; by the fame propenfity I believe, that where I touch nothing, there nothing tangible does exift. If in the prefent cafe I were fiifpicious of the ve- racity of my fenfes, I fhould neither believe nor difbelieve. 2. I turn my eyes towards the op- pofite quarter of the heavens; and having ftill obferved the fame circle floating before them, and knowing by experience, that the motion of bodies placed at a diftance from me does not follow or depend on the motion of my body. I conclude, that the appearance is owing, not to a real, external, corporeal object, but to fome diforder in my organ of fight. Here rea- foning is employed; but where does it terminate? it terminates in experience, which I have ac- quired by means of my fenfes. But if I believ- ed them fallacious, if I believed things to be otherwife than my fenfes reprefent them, I fhouM never, by their means, acquire experience at all. Or, 3. I apply, firft to one man, then to ano- ther. 62 ANESSAY Part I. ther, and then to a third, who all allure me, that they perceive no fuch circle floating in the air, and at the fame time inform me of the true caufe of the appearance. I believe their declaration, either becaufe I have had experi- ence of their veracity, or becaufe I have an in- nate propenfity to credit teftimony. To gain experience implies a belief in the evidence of fenfe, which reafoning cannot account for; and a propenfity to credit teftimony previous to experience or reafoning, is equally unac- countable*. So that although we acknow- ledge fome of our fenfes, in fome inftances, de- ceitful, our detection of the deceit, whether by the evidence of our other fenfes, or by a retrof- pe6l to our paft experience, or by our trufting to the teftimony of other men, does ftill imply, that we do and muft believe our fenfes previ- oufly to all reafoning-f-. A human creature born with a propenfity to difbeiieve his fenfes, would be as helplefs as if he wanted them. To his own prefer vation he could contribute nothing; and, after ages of being, would remain as deftitute of know- ledge and experience, as when he began to be. Sometimes we feem to diftruft the evidence of our fenfes, when in reality we only doubt whe- ther we have that evidence. I may appeal to any man, if he were thoroughly convinced that he had really when awake, feen and converfed with a ghoft, whether any reafoning would convince him that it was a delufion. Reafon- ing might lead him to fufpecl that he had been dreaming, * Sec feel:, 8. of this chapter, f See part 2. chap. i. feel 2. Ch. II. 3. O N T R U T H. 63 dreading, and therefore to doubt whether or not he had the evidence of fenfe ; but if he were allured that he had thai evidence, no arguments wouid ihake his belief. SECT. III. Of the Evidence of Internal Senfe, or Confdouf- nefs. Y attending to what paries in my mind, I know, not only that it exirts, but that it exerts certain powers of action and perception j which, on account either of diverfity in their objects, or of a difference in their manner of operating, I confider as diftinct faculties ; and which I find it expedient to diftinguifli by different names, that I may be able to fpeak of them fo as to be underftood. Thus I am confcious that at one time I exert memory, at another time imagination : fometimes I believe, fome- times I doubt : the performance of certain ac- tions, and the indulgence of certain affections, is attended with an agreeable feeling of a pecu- liar kind, which I call moral approbation ; dif- ferent actions and affections excite the oppofite feeling, of moral difapprobation : to relieve dif- trefs, I feel to be meritorious and praife-wor- thy j to pick a pocket, I know to be blameable, and worthy of punifhment : I am confcious that fome actions are in my power, and that others are not; that when I neglect to do what I ought to do, and can do, i deferve 64 A N E S S A Y Part l deferve to tje punifhed; and that when I a<5l neceffarily, or upon unavoidable and irrefiftable compuifion, I deferve neither punifhment nor blame. Of all thefe fentiments I am as con- fcious, and as certain, as of my own exiftence. I cannot prove that I feel them, neither to my- felf, nor to others ; but that I do really feel them, is as evident to me as demonftration could make it. I cannot prove, in regard to my moral feelings, that they are conformable to any extrinlic and eternal relations of things j but I know that my conflitution neceffarily de- termines me to believe them juft and genuine, even as it determines me to believe that I myfelf exift, and that things are as my external fenfes reprefentthem. An expert logician migjit puzzle me with words, and propofe difficulties I could not folve : but he might as well attempt to convince me, that I do not exift, as that I do not feel what I am con- fcious I do feel. And if he could induce me to fufpect that I may be miftaken, what ftan- dard of truth could he propofe to me, more evident, and of higher authority in thefe mat- ters, than my own feelings ? Shall I believe his teflimony, and difbelieve my own fenfations ? ishall I admit his reafons, becaufe I cannot con- fute them, although common fenfe tells me they are falfe ? Shall I fufter the ambiguities of artificial language to prevail -againft the clear, the intelligible, the irrefiftible voice of Nature ? We cannot diibelieve the evidence of inter- nal fenfe, without offering violence to our na- ture. And if we be led into fuch difbelief, .or diftruft, by the fbphiltry of pretended philofophers, Ch.II. 3- O N T R U T H. 65 philofophers, we act juft as wifely as a mariner would do, who fhould fuffer himfelf to be per- fuaded, that the pole-ftar is continually chan- ging its place, but that the wind always blows from the fame quarter. Common fenfe, or in- flinct, which prompts men totruft to their own feelings, hath in all ages continued the fame: but the interefts, purfuits, and abilities of philofo- phers, are fufceptible of endlefs variety ; and their theories vary accordingly. Let it not be thought, that thefe objects and faculties of internal fenfation are things too evanefcent to be attended to, or that their evi- dence is too weak to produce a fteady and well- grounded conviction. They are more necefTary to our happinefs than even the powers and objects of external fenfe j yea, they are no lefs neceffary to our exiftence. What can be of greater confequence to man, than his moral fentiments, his reafon, his memory, his imagi- nation ? What more interefting, than to know, whether his notions of duty and of truth be the dictates of his nature, that is, the voice of God, or the pofitive inftitutions of men ? What is it to which a wife man will pay more atten- tion, than to his reafon and confcience, thofe divine monitors, whereby he is to judge even of religion itfelf? The generality of mankind, however ignorant of the received diflinctions and explications of their internal powers, do yet by their conduct declare, that they feel their influence, and acknowledge their authen- ticity. Every inftance of their being governed by a principle of moral obligation, is a proof of this. They believe an action to be lawful in 66 A N E S S A Y Parti. in the fight of God, when they are confcious of a lentiment of lawfulneis attending the per- formance of it : they believe a certain mode of conduct to be incumbent on them in certain circumftances, becaufe a notion of duty arifes in their mindj when they contemplate that conduct in relation to thofe circumftances. " I ought to be grateful for a favour received. from a coniparifon of the known qualities 68 ANESSAY Parti. 1 am the fame being to-day I was yefterday, and twenty years ago; this principle, or being, qualities of matter with the phenomena of animal motion and thought. The further we carry our inquiries into matter, the more we are convinced of its incapacity to begin motion. And as to thought, and its feveral modes, if we think that they might be produced by any poflible arrangement of the minute particles of matter, we form a fuppofition as arbitrary, as little warranted by experience or evidence of any kind, and as contrary to the rules that determine us in all our rational conjectures, as if we were to fuppofe, that diamonds might be produced from the fmoke of a can- dle, or that men might grow like mufhrooms out of the earth. There muft then, in all animals, and efpecially in man, be a prin- ciple, not only diftinft and different from body, but in fome re- fpe&s of a quite contrary nature. To afk, whether the Deity, without uniting body with fpirit, could create thinking matter, is juft fuch a queftion, as, whether he could create a being effenti- ally aclive and efTentially inadlive, capable of beginning motion, and at the fame time incapable of beginning motion : queftions, which, if we allow experience to be a rational ground of know- ledge, we need not fcruple to anfvver in the negative. For thefe queltions, according to the beft lights that our rational faculties can afford, feem to us to refer to the production of an effecl: as truly impoffible, as round fquarenefs, hot cold, black whitenefs, or true falfehood. Yet I am inclined to think, it is not by this argument that the generality of mankind are led to acknowledge the exiftence of their own minds. An evidence more direct, much more obvious, and not lefs convincing, every man difcovers in the inftin&ive fuggef- tions of nature. We perceive the exiitence of our fouls by in- tuition ; and this I believe is the only way in which the vulgar perceive it. But their conviftion is not on that account the weaker ; on the contrary, they would think the man mad who mould feem to entertain any doubts on this fubjeft. One of the firft thoughts that occur to Milton's Adam, when " new- waked from founded fleep," is to inquire after the caufe of his exiftence : " Thou fun, faid I, fair light ! And thou, enlighten'd earth, fo frefh and gay ! Ye hills, and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, Tell, if ye faw, how came I thus, how here : Not of myfelf ; by fome great Maker then, In goodnefs and in power pre-eminent. Tell me, how I may know him, how adore, From whom I have, that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier than I know." Paradife Loft, viii. 273, Ch. II. 3. ON TRUTH. 69 being, within me, that thinks and acts, is one permanent and individual principle, diftincl: from all other principles, beings, or things ; thefe are dictates of internal fenfation natural to man, and univerfally acknowledged : and they are of fo great importance, that while we doubt of their truth, we can hardly be in- terefted in any thing elfe whatfoever. If I were to believe, with fome authors, that my mind is perpetually changing., fo as to become every different moment a different thing, the remem- brance of pad, or the anticipation of future good or evil, could give me neither pleafure nor pain ; yea, though I were to believe, that a cruel death would overtake me within an hour, I mould be no more concerned, than if I were told, that a certain elephant, three thoufand years hence, would be facriticed on the top of Mount Atlas. To a man who doubts the individuality or i- dentity of his own mind, virtue, truth, religion, good and evil, hope and fear, are abfolutely nothing. Metaphyficians have taken fome pains to con- found our notions on the fubjecl: of identity; and, by eflablifhing the currency of certain ambiguous Of the reality of his own life, motion, and exiftence, it is obferva- ble that he makes no queftion ; and indeed it would have been ftrange if he had. But Dryden, in his opera called 'The flat e of Innocence, would needs attempt an improvement on this paflage ; and to make furer work, obliges Adam to prove his exiftence by argument, before he allows him to enter upon any other inquiry : " What am I ? or from whence ? For that I am " I know, becaufe I think : but whence I came, " Or how this frame of mine began to be, " What other being can difclofe to me ? ASl 2 . fcetie I . Dryden, it feems, had read Des Cartes ; but Milton had ftudied nature : Accordingly Dryden fpeaks like a metaphyfician, Milton like a poet and phiiofopher. 7 o ANESSAY Part L ambiguous phrafes, have fucceeded fo well, that it is now hardly poflible for us to explain thefe dictates of our nature, according to common fenfe and common experience, in fuch language as fhall be liable to no exception. The misfor- tune is, that many of the words we muft ufe, though extremely well underftood, are either too fimple or too complex in their meaning, to admit a logical definition; fo that the ca- viller is never at a lofs for an evafive reply to any thing we may advance. But I will take it upon me to affirm, that there are hardly any human notions more clearly, or more univerfally underftood, than thofe we entertain concerning the identity both of ourfelves and of other things, however difficult we may fome- times find it to exprefs thofe notions in proper words. And I will alfo venture to affirm, that the fentiments of the generality of mankind on this head are grounded on fuch evidence, that he who refufes to be convinced by it, acts irrati- onally, and cannot, confiftently with fuch re- fufal, believe anything. i . The exiftence of our own mind, as fome- thing different and diftin6t from the body, is univerfally acknowledged. I fay univerfally; having never heard of any nation of men upon earth, who did not, in their converfation and behaviour, mow, by the plainer! figns, that they made this diftinc~rlon. Nay, fo ftrongly are mankind impreiTed with it, that the rudeft barbarians, by their incantations, their fune- ral folemnities, their traditions concerning in- vifible beings, and their hopes of a future ftate, feem to declare, that to the exiftence of the foul the body is not, in their opinion, neceflary. All philofophers, Ch. II. 3. O N T R U T H. 71 phllofophers, a few Epicureans and Pyrrhonifts excepted, have acknowledged the exiftence of the foul, as one of the hrft and moft unexcepti- onable principles of human fcience. Now whence could a notion fo univerfal arife ? Let us examine our own minds, and we ihall iirid, that it could arife from nothing but confciouf- nefs, a certain irrefiftible periuafion, that we have a foul diftinct from the body. The evi- dence of this- notion is intuitive ; it is the evi- dence of internal fenfe. Reafoning can neither prove nor difprove it. DES CARTES, and his difciple MALEBRANCHE, acknowledge, that the exiftence of the human foul muft be believed by all men, even by thofe who can bring themfelves to doubt of every thing elfe. Mr. Simon Browne*, a learned and pious clergyman of the laft age, is perhaps the only perfon on record of whom there is reafon to think, that he lerioufly difbelieved the exiftence of his own foul. He imagined, that in confe- quence of an extraordinary interpofition of di- vine power, his rational foul was gradually an- nihilated, and that nothing was now left him, but a principle of animal life, which he held in common with the brutes. But where-ever the ftory of this excellent perfon is known, his un- happy miftake will be imputed to madnefs, and to a depravation of intellect, as real, and as ex- traordinary, as if he had difbelieved the exift- ence of his body, or the axioms of mathematics. 2. That the thinking principle, which we believe to be within us, continues the fame through life, is equally felf-evident, and equally agree- able * See his aftedling ftory in the Adventurer, vol. 3. No. 88. 7* ANESSAY Part L able to the univerfal confent of mankind. If a man were to fpeak and ac~l in the evening, as if he believed himfelf to have become a different perfon fmce the morning, the whole world would pronounce him mad. Were we to at- tempt to difbelieve our own identity, we mould labour in vain; we could as eafily bring our- ielves to believe, that it is poflible for the fame tiling to be and not to be. But there is no rea- fon to think, that this attempt was ever made by any man, not even by Mr. HUME himfelf , though that author, in his Treatife of Human Nature, has aflerted, yea, and proved too, (according to his notions of proof), that the human foul is perpetually changing; being no- thing but " a bundle of perceptions, that fuc- " ceed each other with inconceivable rapidity, cc and are (as he chufes to exprefs it) in a per- " petual flux *." He might as eafily, in my opinion, and as decifively, with equal credit to his own underftanding, and with equal advan- tage to the reader, by a method of reafoning no lefs philofophical, and with the fame degree of difcretion in the ufe of words, have attacked the axioms of mathematics, or any other truths inftructive or demonllrable, and produced a formal and ferious confutation of them. In ex- plaining the evidence on which we believe our own identity, it is not neceflary that I mould here examine his arguments againft that belief: firft, becaufe the point in queftion is felf-evident; and therefore all reafoning on the other fide unphi- lofophical and irrational: and, fecondly, be- caufe I mall afterwards prove, that fome of Mr. HUME'S firft principles are inconceivable; and that * Treatife of Human Nature, vol. i. p. 438. &c. Ch. II. 3. O N T R U T H. 73 that this very notion of his, concerning iden- tity, when fairly ftated, is palpably abfurd. It has been afked, how we can pretend to have full evidence of our identity, when of identity itfelf we are fo far from having a diftinct notion, that we cannot define it. It might, with as good rea- fon be afked, how we come to believe that two and two are equal to four, or, that a circle is different from a triangle, if we cannot define either equality or diverfity : why we believe in our own exig- ence, fince we cannot define exiftence: why, in a word, the vulgar believe any thing at all, fince they know nothing about the rules of de- finition, and hardly ever attempt it. In fact, we have numberlefs ideas that admit not of definition, and yet concerning which we may argue, and believe, and know, with the utmoft clearnefs and certainty. To define heat or cold, identity or diverfity, red or white, an ox or an afs, would puzzle all the logicians on earth; yet nothing can be clearer, or more certain, than many of our judgements concerning thofe objects. The rudeft of the vulgar know moil perfectly what they mean, w hen they fay, Three months ago I was at fuch a town, and have ever fince been at home : and the conviction they have of* the truth of this propofition is founded on the befl of evidence, namely, on that of in- ternal fenfe; in which all men, by the Jaw of their nature, do and muft implicitly believe. It has been afked, whether this continued confcioufnefs of our being always the fame, does not conftitute our fameiiefs or identity. No more, I mould anlwer, than our perception of truth, light or cold, is the efficient caufe of VOL. I. F truth, 74 ANESSAY Part I. truth, light, or cold. Our identity is perceived by confcioufnefs ; but confcionfnefs is as differ- ent from identity, as the underftanding is differ- ent from truth, as paft events are different from memory, as colours from the power of feeing. Con- fcioufnefs of identity is fo far from conftituting identity, that it prefuppofes it. An animal might continue the fame being, and yet not be confcious of its identity ; which is probably the cafe with many of the brute creation 5 nay, which is often the cafe with man himfelf. When we fleep without dreaming, or fall into a fainting fit*, or rave in a fever, and often too in our ordinary dreams, we lofe all fenfe of our identity, and yet never conceive that our ident- ity * The following cafe, which M. Crozaz gave in to the Acade- my of Sciences, is the moft extraordinary inftance of interrupted confcioufnefs I have ever heard of. A nobleman of Laufanne, as he was giving orders to a fervant, fuddenly loft his fpeech and all his fenfes. Different remedies were tried without effeft for fix months ; during all which time he appeared to be in a deep fleep, or deliquium, with various fymptoms at different periods, which are particularly fpecified in the narration. At laft, after fome chirurgical operations, at the end of fix months his fpeech and fenfes were fuddenly reftored. When he recovered, the fervant to whom he had been giving orders when he was firit feized with the diftemper, happening to be in the room, he afked whether he had executed his commiffion ; not being fenfible, it feems, that any interval of time, except perhaps a very fhort one, had elapfed during his illnefs. He lived ten years after, and died of another difeafe. See UHiJloire de /' Academic Roy ale des Sciences, pcur I' annee 1719, / 28. Van Swieten alfo relates this ftory in his Com- mentaries on Boerhaave's Aphorifms, under the head Apoplexy. I mention it chiefly with a view to the reader's amufement : he may confider the evidence, and believe or difbelieve as he pleafes. But that ccnfcioufnefs may be interrupted by a total deliquium, without any change in our notions of our own identity, I know by my cwn experience. I am therefore fully perfuaded, that the identity of this fubila^ce which I call my foul, may continue even when I am unconfcious of it : and if for a fhorter fnace, why not for a longer ? Ch. II. 3. O N T R U T H. 75 ity has fuffered any interruption or change : the moment we awake or recover, we are confcious that we are the fame individual beings we were before. Many doubts and difficulties have been ftarted about our manner of conceiving identity of per- fon under a change of fubftance. Plutarch tells us, that in the time of Demetrius Phalereus, the Athenians ftill preferred the cuftom of fend- ing every year to Delos the fame galley which, about a thoufand years before, had brought Thefeus and his company from Crete ; and that it then ufed to be a queftion in the fchools, how this could be the fame veflel, when every part of its materials had been changed oftener than once * It is alked, how a tree can be accounted the fame, when from a plant of an inch long, it has grown to the height of fifty feetj and how identity can be afcribed to the human body, lince its parts are continually changing, fo that not one particle of the body I now have, be- longed to the body I had twenty years ago. It were well if metaphyficians would think more and fpeak lefs on thefe fubjefts: they would then find, that the difficulties fo much complained of are rather verbal than real. Was there a iingle Athenian, who did not know in what refpefts the galley of Thefeus continued the fame, and in what refpedts it was changed ? It was the fame in refpect of its name, its defti- nation, its fhape perhaps, and fize, and fome other particulars ; in refpect of fubftance it was altogether different. And when one party in the fchools maintained, that it was the lame, F 2 and * Plutarch, in Thefeo. Plato, in Phxdone. ;6 A N E S S A Y Part I- and the other, that it was not the fame, all the difference between them was this, that the one ufed the word fame in one fenfe, and the other in another. The identity of vegetables is as eafily con- ceived. No man imagines, that the plant of an inch long is the fame in fubftance with the tree of fifty feet. The latter is by the vul- gar fuppofcd to retain all the fubftance of the former, but with the addition of an immenfe quantity of adventitious matter. Thus far, and no further, do they fuppofe the fubftance of the tree to continue the fame. They call it, however, the fame tree : and the fame it is, in many refpects, which to every perfon of com- mon underftanding, are obvious enough, though not eafily expreffed in unexceptionable language. Of the changes made in the human body by attrition, the vulgar have no notion. They believe the fubftance of a full-grown body to continue the fame, notwithstanding its being fometimes fatter, and fometimes leaner 5 even as they fuppofe the fubftance of a wall to be the fame before and after it is plaiftered, or painted. They therefore do not afcribe to it identity of perfon, and diverfity of fub- ftance, but a real and proper identity both of fubftance and perfon. Of the identity of the body while encreafmg in ftature, they conceive, nearly in the fame way, as of the identity of vegetables : they know in what refpeft it con- tinues the fame, and in what refpecr it becomes different ; there is no confufion in their noti- ons Ch. II. 3. ON TRUTH. 77 ons ; they never fuppofe it to be different in thole refpefts in which they know it to be the fame. When philofophers fpeak of the identity of the human body, they muft mean, not that its fubflance is the fame, for this they fay is per- petually changing; but that it is the fame, in refpect of its having been all along anima- ted with the fame vital and thinking principle, diftinguiihed by the fame name, marked with the fame or fimilar features, placed in the fame relations of life, &c. It muft be obvious to the intelligent reader, that the difficulties at- tending this fubjecl arife not from any ambi- guity or intricacy in our notions or judgements, for thefe are extremely clear, but from our way of exprefling them : the particulars in which an objec~l continues the fame, are often fo blended with thofe in which it has become dif- ferent, that we cannot find proper words for marking the diftinclion, and therefore muft have recourfe to obfcure circumlocutions. But whatever judgements we form of the identity of corporeal objects, we cannot from them draw any inference concerning the iden- tity of our mind. We cannot afcribe extenfi- on or folidity to the foul, far lefs any encreafe or diminution of folid or extended parts. Here, therefore, there is no ground for diftinguiihing diverfity of fubftance from identity of perfon. Our foul is the very fame being now it was yefterday, laft year, twenty years ago. This is a dictate of common fenfe, and intuitive truth, which all mankind, by the law of their nature, do and muft believe, and the contrary F 3 of 78 A N E S S A Y Parti. of which is inconceivable. We have perhaps changed many of our principles ; we may have acquired many new ideas and notions, and loft many of thofe we once had ; but that the fub- flance, eiTence or perfonality, of the foul, has fuftered any change, increafe or diminution, we never have fuppofed, nor can fuppofe. New faculties have perhaps appeared, with which we were formerly unacquainted j but thefe we can- not conceive to have affected the identity of the foul, any more than learning to write, or to play on a mufical inftrument, is conceived to affect the identity of the hand; or than the perception of harmony the firft time one hears mufic, is conceived to affect the identity of the ear*. But if we perceive our identity by confciouf- nefs, and if the acts of confcioumefs by which we perceive it be interrupted, how can we know that our identity is not interrupted ? I anfwer, * I beg leave to quote a few lines from an excellent poem, xvritteri by an author whofe genius and virtue were an honour to his country, and to human nature : " Am I but what I feem, mere flefh and blood, " A branching channel , and a mazy flood ? " The purple ftream, that through my veffels glides, " Dull and unconfcious flows like common tides. cc The pipes, through which the circling juices ftray, " Are not that thinking I, no more than they. " This frame compacted with tranfcendent Mil, " Of moving joints obedient to my will, ' ' Nurfed from the fruitful glebe like yonder tree, Waxes and waftes : I call it MINE not ME. , New matter ftill the mouldering mafs fuftains ; The manfion changed, the tenant ftill remains, And, from the fleeting ftream repair'd by food, Diftinft, as is the fwimmer from the flood." ARBUTHNOT. See DoJflefs CoHeSion, that "whatever is, is ;" and yet I cannot conceive, that any comparifon of ideas is neceflary to produce thefe convictions in my mind. Perhaps I cannot fpeak of them without ufing words expreflive of relation^ but the fimple act or perception of the underftanding by which I am confcious of them, implies not any comparifon that I can difcover. If it did, then the fimpleft intuitive truth requires proof* or illuftration at leaft, before it can be acknowledged as truth by the mind ; which I prefume will not be found war- ranted by experience* Whether others are con- fcious of making fuch a comparifon, before they yield aflent to the fimpleft intuitive truth, I know not ; but this I know, that my mind is often confcious of certainty where no fuch comparifon has been made by me* I acknow- ledge, indeed, that no certain truth can be- come an object of fcience, till it be exprefled in words j that, if exprefled in words, it muft af- fume the form of a proportion j and that eveiy proportion, being either affirmative or negative, inuft imply a comparifon of the thing or fubjecl, with that quality or circumftance which is af- firmed or denied to belong to or agree with it : G 2 and 92 A N E S S A Y Parti. and therefore I acknowledge, that in fcience all certainty may be faid to arife from a comparifon of ideas. But the generality of mankind believe many things as certain, which they never thought of expreffing in words. An ordinary man believes, that himfelf, his family, his houfe, and cattle, exift -, but, in order to produce this belief in his mind, is it necefTary, that he com- pare thofe objects with the general idea of ex- iftence or non-exiftence, fo as to difcern their agreement with the one, or difagreement with the other? I cannot think it: at leaft, if he has ever made fuch a comparifon, it muft have been without his knowledge ; for I am convin- ced, that, if we were to alk him the queflion, he would not underftand us. Secondly, I apprehend, that our author has not enumerated all the relations which, when difcovered, give rife to certainty. I am certain, that I am the fame perfon to-day I was yefter- day. This indeed our author denies *. I can- not help it; I am certain notwithstanding; and I natter myfelf, there are not many perfons in the world who would think this fentiment of mine a paradox. I fay, then, I am certain, that I am the fame perfon to-day I was yefler- day. Now, the relation exprefled in this pro- pofition is not refemblance, nor proportion in quantity and number, nor degrees of any common quality, nor contrariety : it is a relation different from all thefe; it is identity or famenefs. That London is contiguous to the Thames, is a propolition which many of the moft fenfible people in Europe hold to be certainly true ; and yet the relation exprefled in it * See part 2. chap. 2. fe6l. j. of this Efiay. Ch. II. 5. O N T R U T H. 93 it is none of thofe four which our author fup- pofes to be the fole properties of certainty. For it is not in refpect of refemblance, of pro- portion in quantity or number, of contrariety, or of degrees in any common quality, that London and the Thames are here compared, but purely in refpecl: of place or fituation. Again, that the foregoing maxim is neither intuitively nor demonftrably certain, our author attempts to prove from this confideration, that we cannot demonftrate the imponToility of the contrary. Nay, the contrary,, he fays, is not inconceivable : " for we can conceive an ob- " ject non-exiftent this moment, and exiftent " the next, without joining it to the idea of a " caufe, which is an idea altogether diftin6l " and different." But this, I prefume, is not a fair ftate of the cafe. Can we conceive a thing beginning to exifl, and yet bring our- felves to think that a caufe is not neceflary to the production of fuch a thing ? If we cannot, (I am fure I cannot), then is the contrary of this maxim, when fairly ftated, found to be truly and properly inconceivable. But whether the contrary of this maxim be inconceivable or not, the maxim itfelf may be intuitively certain. Of intuitive, as well as of demonftrable truths, there are different kinds. It is a character of fome, that their contraries are inconceivable : fuch arc the axioms of geo- metry. But of many other intuitive truths, the contraries are conceivable. " I do feel a " hard body," " I do not feel a hard body;" thefe proportions are equally conceivable: the fail is true, for I have a pen between my fin- O 3 gcrsi 94 ANESSAY Parti, gers; but I cannot prove its truth by argument; therefore its truth is perceived intuitively. Thus far we have argued for the fake of argu- ment, andoppofedmetaphyfictometaphyfic*, in order to prove, that our author's reafoningon the prefent fubject is not conclufive. It is now time to enter into the merits of the caufe, and con- fider the matter philofophically, that is, accord- ing to fact and experience. And in this way we bring it to a very fhort ifiue. The point in dif- puteis, Whether this maxim, " Whatever be- " gins to exift, proceeds from fome caufe," be intuitively certain ? That the mind naturally and necefTarily aflents to it without any doubt, and considers its contrary as impoflible, I have already (hewn; the maxim, therefore, is cer- tainly true. That it cannot, by any argu- ment or medium of proof, be rendered more evident than it is when firft apprehended by the mind, is alfo certain ; for it is of itfelf as evident as any proportion that can be urged in proof of it. If, therefore, this maxim be true, (as every rational being feels, and ac- knowledges), it is a principle of common fenfe : we believe it, not becaufe we can give a reafon, but becaufe, by the law of our nature, we muft believe it. Our opinion of the neceffity of a caufe to the production of every thing that has a beginning, is by our author fuppofed to arife from obfer- vation and experience. It is true, that in our experience we have never found any thing be- ginning to exift, and proceeding from no caufe ; but * See part 3. chap. 2. of this Eflay, Ch.ll. 5- ON TRUTH. 95 but I imagine it will not appear, that our be- lief of this axiom hath experience for its foun- dation. For let it be remarked, that fome chil- dren, at a time when their experience is very fcanty, feem to be as fenfible of the truth of this axiom, as many perfons arrived at maturity. I do not mean, that they ever repeat it in the form of a proportion ; or that, if they were to hear it repeated in that form, they would in- ftantly declare their affent to it ; for a propofi- tion can never be rationally afTented to, except by thofe who underftand the words that com- pofe it : but I,.mean, that thefe children have a natural propenfity to inquire after the caufe of any effect or event that engages their attenti- on ; which they would not do, if the view of an event or effect did not fuggeil to them, that a caufe is necefTary to its production. Their cu- riofity in afking the reafons and caufes of every thing they fee and hear, is often very remarka- ble, and rifes even to impertinence; at leail it is called fo when one is not prepared to give them an anfwer. I have known a child break open his drum, to fee if he could difcover the caufe of its extraordinary found : and that at the hazard of rendering the plaything unfervicea- ble, and of being punifhed for his indifcretion . If the ardor of this curiofity were always pro- portioned to the extent of a child's experience, or to the care his teachers have taken to make him attentive to the dependance of effects on caufes, we might then afcribe it to the power of education, or to a habit contracted by experi- ence. But every one who has had an oppor- tunity of converfing with children, knpwt; that this $6 ANESSAY Part I , this is not the cafe ; and that their curiofity cannot otherwife be accounted for, than by iuppofmg it inftinftive, and, like other inftincts, flronger in fome minds, and weaker in others, independently on experience and education, and in confequence of the appointment of that Being who has been pleafed to make one man differ from another in his intellectual accomplifh- ments, as well as in his features, complexion, and fize. Nor let it be imagined, becaufe fome children are in this refpect more curious than others, that therefore the belief of this maxim is inftinctive in fome minds only : the maxim may be equally believecl by all, not- withstanding this diverfity. For do we not find a fimilar diverfity in the genius of differ- ent men ? Some men have a philofophical turn of mind, and love to inveftigate caufes, and to have a reafon ready on every occafion; others are indifferent as to thefe matters, being ingrofled by ftudies of ano- ther kind. And yet I prefume it will be found, that the truth of this maxim is felt by every man, though perhaps many men never thought of putting it in words in the form of a propo- fition. We repeat therefore that this axiom is one of the principles of common fenfe, which every rational mind does and muft acknowledge to be true.; not becaufe it can be proved, but be- caufe the law of nature determines us to believe it without proof, and to look upon its contrary as abfurd and iinpoflible. The Ch. II. 5. ON TRUTH. 97 The axiom now before us is the foundation of the moft important argument that ever em- ployed human reafon; I mean that which, from the works that are created, evinces the eter- nal power and godhead of the Creator. That ar- gument, as far as it refolves itfelf into this axi- om, is properly a demonftration, being a clear deduction from a felf-evident principle; and therefore no man can pretend to underftand it without feeling it to be conciufive. So that what the Pfalmift fays of the Atheifl is lite- rally true, He is a fool, as really irrational as if he refufed to be convinced by a mathema- tical demonftration. Nay, he is more irratio- onal ; becaufe there is no truth demonftrated in mathematics which fo many powers of our nature confpire to ratify, and with which all rational, minds are fo deeply impreiled. The contemplation of the Divine Nature is the moft ufeful and the moft ennobling exercife in which our faculties can be engaged ; and recommends itfelf to every man of found judgement and good tafte, as the moft durable and moft perfect en- joyment that can fall to the mare of any created being. Sceptics may wrangle, and mockers may blafpheme; but the pious man knows by e- vidence too fublime for their ccmprehenfion *, that his affections are not mifplaced, and that his hopes mail not be difappointed ; by evi- dence which, to the humble and tender hearted, is altogether overwhelming, irreiiftible, and di- vine. That * My meaning is only this, that the'faith of pious men will he ftrengthened by fuch fupernatural aid as unbelievers or blafphe- mers can have no reafon to exped ; a doftrine which, if I not, is warranted by the fcripturc ; John vii. 17. 93 A N E S S A Y, Part I. That many of the objects in nature have had a beginning; is obvious to our own fenfes and memory, or confirmed by unqueftionable tefti- mony : thefe, therefore, according to the axiom we, are here confidering, muft be believed to have proceeded from a caufe adequate at lead to the effects produced. That the whole fen- lible univerfe hath to us the appearance of an effect, of fomething which once was not, and which exifts not by any neceffity of nature, but by the appointment of fome powerful and in- telligent caufe different from and independent on it; that the univerfe I fay, has this ap- pearance, cannot be denied: and that it is what it appears to be, an effect ; that it had a beginning, and was not from eternity, is proved by every fort of evidence the fubject will admit. And if fo, we offer violence to our underftand- ing, when we attempt to believe that the whole univerfe does not proceed from fome caufe; and we argue unphilofophically, when we en- deavour to difprove this natural and univerfal fuggeftion of the human mind. It is true, the univerfe is, as one may fay, a work fui generis, altogether fingular, and fuch as we cannot properly compare to other works ; becaufe indeed all works are comprehended in it. But that natural dictate of the mind by which we believe the univerfe to have proceed- ed from a eaufe, arifes from our confidering it as an effect ; a circumftance in which it is per- fectly fimilar to all works whatfoever. The fm- gularity of the effect rather confirms (if that be poffible) than weakens our belief of the ne- ceffity of a caufe ; at leafl it makes us more attentive Ch. 11.5, O N T R U T H. 99 attentive to the caufe, and interefts us more deeply in it. What is the univerfe, but a vaft fyftem of works or effects, fome of them great, and others fmall $ fome more, and fome lefs confiderable ? If each of thefe works, the leaft as well as the greateft, require a caufe for its pro- duction ; is it not in the higheft degree abfurd to fay, that the whole is not the effect of a caufe ? Each link of a great chain muft be fupport- ed by fomething, but the whole chain may be fupported by nothing : Nothing lefs than an ounce can be a counterpoife to an ounce, no- thing lefs than a pound to a pound ; but the wing of a gnat, or nothing at all, may be a fufficient counterpoife to ten hundred thoufand pounds : Are not thefe affertions too abfurd to deferve an anfwer ? The reader, if he be acquainted with Mr. HUME'S Effay on a particular providence and a future ftate^ will fee, that thefe remarks are in- tended as an anfwer to a very ftrange argument there advanced againil the belief of a Deity. " The univerfe," we are told, " is an object " quite fingular and unparalleled ; no other ob- " ject that has fallen under our obfervation ' bears any fimilarity to it; neither it nor its " caufe can be comprehended under any known " fpecies ; and therefore concerning the caufe of " the univerfe we can form no rational conclu- " (ion at all." I appeal to any man of found judgement, whether that fuggeftion of his un- derftanding, which prompts him to infer a caufe from an effect, has any dependence upon a prior operation of his mind, by which the effect in queilion js referred to its genus or fpecies. When ioo A N E S S A Y Parti. When he pronounces concerning any object which he conceives to have had a beginning, that it muil have proceeded from fome caufe, does this judgement necefTarily imply any compa- nion of that object with others of a like kind ? If the new object were in every refpect unlike to other objects, would this have any influence on his judgement ? Would he not acknowledge a caufe to be as neceiTary for the production of the moil uncommon, as of the moil familiar object? If therefore I believe, that I myfelf owe my exiilence to fome caufe, becaufe there is fomething in my mind which neceffarily de- termines me to this belief, I muil alfo, for the very fame reafon, believe, that the whole xmiverfe (fuppofed to have had a beginning) proceeds from fome caufe. The evidence of both is the fame. If I believe the firil and not the fecond, I believe and diibelieve the fame evi- dence at the fame time ; I believe that ths very lame fuggeilion of my underilanding is both true and falfe. Though I were to grant, that, when an ob- ject is reducible to no known genus, no rational inference can be made concerning its caufe ; yet it will not follow, that our inferences concern- ing the caufe of the univerfe are irrational, fuppofing it reaibnable to believe that the uni- verfe had a beginning. If there be in the uni- verfe any thing which is reducible to no known genus, let it be mentioned : if there be any pre- fumption for the exiilence of fuch a thing, let the foundation of that prefumprion be explain- ed. And, ifyoupleafe, I ihall, for argument's lake, admit, that concerning the caufe of that particular Ch.II.5- O N T R U T H. 101 particular thing, no rational conclufion can be formed. But it has never been aflerted, that the exiftence of fuch a thing is either real or probable. Mr. HUME only afTerts, that the univerfe itfelf, not any particular thing in the univerfe, is reducible to no known genus. Well, then, let me afk, What is the univerfe ? A word ? No ; it is a vaft collection of things. Are all thefe things reducible to genera ? Mr. HUME does not deny it. Each of thefe things, then, if it had a beginning, muft alfo have had a caufe ? It muft. What thing in the univerfe exifts uncaufed ? Nothing. is this a rational conclufion ? So it feems. It feems, then, that though it be rational to affign a caufe to every thing in the univerfe, yet to aflign a caufe to the univerfe is not rational ! It is mameful thus to trifle with words. In fact, this argument, fo highly admired by its author, is no argument at all. It is founded on a diftinction that is per- fectly inconceivable. Twenty (hillings make a pound: though you lay twenty {hillings on the table, you have not laid down a pound, you have only laid down twenty fhillings. If the reader cannot enter into this diftinction, he will never be able to conceive in what the force of Mr. HUME'S argument confifts. If the univerfe had a beginning, it muft have had a caufe. This is a felf-evident axiom, or at leaft an undeniable confequence of one. We neceflarily aflent to it; fuch is the law of our nature. If we deny it, we cannot, without abfurdity, believe any thing elfe; becaufe we at the fame time deny the authenticity of thofe inftinctive fuggeftions which are the foundati- ons 102 A N E S S A Y ons of all truth, The Atheifl will never be able to elude the force of this argument, till he can prove, that every thing in nature exifts ne- ceflarily, independently, and from eternity. If Mr. HUME'S argument be found to turn to fo little account, from the fimple confider- ation of the univerfe, as exifting, and as having had a beginning, it will appear (if poflible) ftill more irrational, when we take a view of the univerfe, and its parts, as of works curioufly adapted to certain ends. Their exiftence dif- plays the neceffity of a powerful caufe > their frame proves the caufe to be intelligent^ good, and wife. The meaneft of the works of nature, (if any of Nature's works may be called mean), the arrangement neceflary for the production of the fmalleft plant, requires in the caufe a degree of power and wifdom, which infinitely tranfcends the fublimeft exertions of human abi^ lity. What then (hall we fay of the caufe that produces an animal, a rational foul, a world, a iyftem of worlds, an univerfe? Shall we fay, that infinite power and wifdom are not ne- ceflary attributes of that univerfal caufe, though they be necefiary attributes of the caufe, that produces a plant ? Shall we fay, that the maker of a plant may be acknowledged to be powerful, intelligent, and wife; becaufe there are many other things in nature that refemble a plant 5 but that we cannot rationally acknowledge the maker of the univerfe to be wife, powerful, or intelligent, becaufe there is nothing which the univerfe refembles, or to which it may be com- pared ? Ch. II. 6 O N T R U T H 103 pared ? Can the man who argues in this manner have any meaning to his words ? The other cavils thrown out againft the di- vine attributes, in this flimfy eflay, I may per- haps have occafion to animadvert on hereafter. Meantime to thofe readers who may be in dan- ger from them, I would recommend a careful perufal of Butler's Analogy of Natural and Re- vealed Religion. SECT. VI. Of Probable or Experimental Reafoning. AN all our reafonings from the caufe to the effect, we proceed on a fuppofition, and a be- lief, that the courfe of nature will continue to be in time to come what we experience it to be at prefent, and remember it to have been in time pall. This prefumption of continuance is the foundation of all our judgements concern- ing future events ; and this, in many cafes, de- termines our conviction as effectually as any proof or demonftration whatfoever; although the^conviction arifmg from it be different in kind from what is produced by ftrict demonftration, as well as from thofe kinds of conviction that attend the evidence of fenfe, memory, and ab- ftract intuition. The higheft degree of con- viction in reafoning from caufes to effects, is called msral certainty ; and the inferior degrees refult from that fpecies of evidence which is called probability or verijimilitude. That all men will 104 A N E S S A Y Part L will die ; that the fun will rife to-morrow, and the fea ebb and flow ; that fleep will continue to refreih, and food to nourifh us; that the fame articulate founds which to-day communi- cate the ideas of virtue and vice, meat and drink, man and heart, will to-morrow commu- nicate the fame ideas to the fame perfons, no man can doubt, without being accounted a fool. In thefe, and in all other inftances where our experience of the paft has been equally exten- iive and uniform, our judgement concerning the future amounts to moral certainty : we be- lieve, with full affurance, or at leaft without doubt, that the fame laws of nature which have hitherto operated, will continue to operate, as long as we forefee no caufe to interrupt or hinder their operation. But no perfon who attends to his own mind will fay, that, in thefe cafes, our belief, or con- viction, is the effect of a proof, or any thing like it. If reafoning be at all employed, it is only in order to give us a clear view of our paft experience with regard to the point in queftion. When this view is obtained, reafon- ing is no longer neceflary; the mind, by its own innate force, and in confequence of an ir- refiftible and inftinctive impulfe, infers the fu- ture from the paft, immediately, and without the intervention of any argument. The fea has ebbed and flowed twice every day in time paft ; therefore the fea will continue to ebb and flow twice every day in the time to come, is by Ch. II. 6. O N T R U t H. 104 by no means a logical deduction of a conclufiori from premifes *. When our experience of the paft has not been uniform nor extenfive, our opinion with regard to the future falls fhort of moral cer- tainty ; and amounts only to a greater or lefs degree of perfuafion, according to the greater or fmaller proportion of favourable inftances : we fay, fuch an event will probably happen > fuch another is wholly improbable. If a medi- cine has proved falutary in one inftance, and hurtful in five, a phyfician would not chufe to recommend it, except in a defperate cafe ; and would then confider its fuccefs as a thing rather to be wifhed than expected. An equal number of favourable and unfavourable inftances leave the mind in a ftate of fufpenfe, without exciting the fmalleft degree of afTurance on either fide, except, perhaps, what may arife from our be-> ing more interefted on the one fide than on the other. A phyfician influenced by fuch evidence would fay, " My patient may recover, and he t{ may die: I am forry to fay, that the former C event is not one whit more probable than the " latter." When the favourable inftances ex- ceed the unfavourable in number, we begin to think the future event in fome degree probable j and more or lefs fo, according to the furplus of favourable inftances. A few favourable inftan- ces, without any mixture of unfavourable ones, render an event probable in a pretty high de- gree; but the favourable experience muft be VOL. I. H both * This remaik was firrt made by Mr. HUME. See it illuftrated at great length in his EfTays, part z. fedl. 4. See alfo Dr. Camp- bell's Differtation on Miracles, p. 13. 14. edit. 2. 106 A N E S S A Y Parti. both extenfive and uniform, before it can pro- duce moral certainty. A man brought into being at maturity, and placed in a defert ifland, would abandon himfelf to defpair, when he firft faw the fun fet, and the night come on ; for he could have no ex- pectation that ever the day would be renewed. But he is tranfported with joy, when he again beholds the glorious orb appearing in the eaft, and the heavens and the earth illuminated as before. He again views the declining fun with apprehenfion, yet not without hope ; thefecond night is lefs difmal than the firft, but is ftill uncomfortable, on account of the weaknefs of the probability produced by one favourable in- ftance. As the inftances grow more numerous, the probability becomes ftronger and ftronger : yet it may be queftioned, whether a man in thefe circumftances would ever arrive at fo high a degree of moral certainty in this matter as we experience ; who know, not only that the fun has rifen every day fmce we began to exift, but alfo that the fame phenomenon has happened regularly for more than five thoufand years, without failing in a fingle inftance. The judgement of our great epic poet appears no whereto more advantage than in his eighth book ; where Adam relates to the angel what palled in his mind immediately after his awaking into life. The following paflage is at once tranlcendently beautiful, and philofophicallyjuft. " While thus I call'd, and flrcry'd I knew not whither, " Prom where I firft drew air, and firft beheld " This happy light, when anfwer none return'd, " On a green fhady bank, profufe of flowers, "Penfive I fat me down ; there gentle ficep " Fir/I Ch. II. 6. O N TRUTH. 107 " Firfl found me, and with foft oppreffion feiz'd " My droufed fenfe ; untroubled, though I thought ff I then --was pafftng to my former Jiate " Infenfeble, and forthwith to di/filve * " Paradife Loft, b. 8. 1. 283* Adam at this time had no experience of fleep, and therefore could not, with any probability, expect that he was to recover from it. Its approaches were attended with feelings fimilar to thofe he had experienced when awa- king from non-exiftence, and would naturally fuggefl that idea to his mind ; and as he had no reaibn to expect that his life was to continue* would intimate the probability that he was again upon the verge of an infenfible flate -f-. Now it is evident, from what has been alrea- dy faid, that the degree of probability muft be intuitively perceived, or the degree of allurance fpontaneoufly and inftinctively excited in the mind, upon the bare conlideration of the inftan- ces on either fide ; and that without any medium of argument to connect the future event with the pad experience. Reafoning may be employ- ed in bringing the inftances into view; but when that is done, it is no longer necefTary. And if you were to argue with a man, in or-* der to convince him that a certain future event is not fo improbable as he feems to think, you H 2 would * The beauty of thefe lines did not efcape the elegant and judi- cious Addifon ; but that author doeft not affigri the reafon of his approbation. Spefl. No. 345. f '* Several things (fays Butler) greatly affeft all our h- " ving powers, and at length fufpend the exercife of them; as, *' for inltance, drouiinefs, in(;reaftng till it ends in found fleep : " and from hence we might have imagined it would deftroy them " till wefouud by experience the wfiaknefs of thisv/ay of judging." ut/er'f Analogy, part i. cb. I. to8 A N E S S A Y Part I would only make him take notice of fome fa- vourable inftance which he had overlooked, or endeavour to render him fufpicious of the reality of fome of the unfavourable inftances; leaving it to himfelf to eftimate the degree of probabi- lity. If he continue refractory, notwithftand- ing that his view of the fubject is the fame with yours, he can be reafoned with in no other way, than by your appealing to the common fenfe of mankind. To the fupreme intelligence all knowledge is intuitive and certain. But it is not unreafon- able to fuppofe, that probabilities of one fort or other may fometimes employ the under- ftanding of all created beings. To man, pro- bability (as an excellent author -\- obferves) is the very guide of life. S E C T. VII. Of Analogical Reafoning. JXEafoning from analogy, when traced up to its fource, will be found in like manner to ter- minate in a certain inftmctive propeniity, im- planted in us by our Maker, which leads us to expect, that fimilar caufes, in fimilar circum- ftances, do probably produce, or will probably produce, limilar effects. The probability which this kind of evidence is fitted to illuftrate, does, like the former, admit of a vaft variety of de- grees, f Butler's Analogy. Introduftion. Ch. 11.7. O N T R U T H. 109 grees, from abfolute doubting up to moral cer- tainty. When the ancient philofopher, who was fhipwrecked in a ftrange country, difcover- ed certain geometrical figures drawn upon the fand by the fea-fhore, he was naturally led to believe, with a degree of affurance not inferior to moral certainty, that the country was inha- bited by men, fome of whom were men of ftu- dy and fcience, like himfelf. Had thefe figures been lefs regular, and liker chance- work, the prefumption from analogy, of the country being inhabited, would have been weaker j and had they been of fuch a nature as left it altoge- ther dubious, whether they were the work of accident or of defign, the evidence would have been too ambiguous to ferve as a foundation for any opinion. In reafbning from analogy, we argue from a facl or thing experienced to fomething fimi- lar not experienced ; and from our view of the former arifes an opinion with regard to the lat- ter ; which opinion will be found to imply a greater or lefs degree of aflurance, according as the mft:a.ncQfrom which we argue is more or lefs fimilar to the inflance to which we argue. Why the degree of our aflurance is determined by the degree of likenefs, we cannot tell; but we know by experience, that this is the cafe : and by experience alfo we know, that our aflurance, fuch as it is, arifes immediately in the mind, whenever we fix our attention on the circum- ftances in which the probable event is expected, fo as to trace their refemblance to thofe circum- ftances in which we have known a fimilar event to take place. A child who has been burnt H 3 with no A N E S S A Y Parti- with a red-hot coal, is careful to avoid touching the flame of a candle ; for as the vilible quali- ties of the latter are like to thofe of the former, he expects, with a very high degree of aflurance, that the effects produced by the candle operat- ing on his fingers, will be fimilar to thofe pro- duced by the burning coal. And it deferves to be remarked, that the judgement a child forms on thefe occafions may arife, and often doth arife, previous to education and reafoning, and while experience is very limited. Knowing that a lighted candle is a dangerous object, he will be ihy of touching a glow-worm, or a piece of wet fifh fhining in the dark, becaufe of their re- femblance to the flame of a candle : but as this refemblance is but imperfect, his judgement, with regard to the confequences of touching thefe objects, will probably be more inclined to doubt, than in the former cafe, where the in- flances were more fimilar. Thofe who are acquainted with aftronomy, think it probable, that the planets are inhabited by living creatures, on account of their being in all other refpects fo like our earth. A man who thinks them not much bigger than they ap- pear to the eye, never dreams of fuch a notion ; for to him they feem in every refpect unlike our earth : and there is no other way of bringing him over to the aflronomer's opinion, than by explaining to him thofe particulars in which the planets and our earth referable one another. As Toon as he comprehends thefe particulars, and this refemblance, 'his mind of its own ac- cord admits the probability of the new opini- on', without being led to it by any medium of proof. Ch. II. 8. O N TRUTH. in proof, connecting the facts he hath experienced with other fimilar and probable facts lying be- yond the reach of his experience. Such a proof indeed could not be given. If he were not con- vinced of the probability by the bare view of the facts, you would impute his perfeverance in his old opinion, either to obitinacy, or to want of common fenfe ; two mental diforders for which logic provides no remedy. SECT. VIII. Of Faith in T'ejlimony. A Here are in the world many men, whofe declaration concerning any fact which they have feen, and of which they are competent judges, would engage my belief as effectually as the evidence of my own fenfes. A metaphyfi- cian may tell me, that this implicit confidence in teflimony is unworthy of a philofopher, and that my faith ought to be more rational. It may be fo ; but I believe as before notwith- ftanding. And I find that all men have the fame confidence in the teftimony of certain per- fons ; and that if a man fhould refufe to think as other men do in this matter, he would be called obflinate, whimfical, narrow-minded, and a fool. If, after the experience of fo ma- ny ages, men are ftill difpofed to believe the word of an honefl man, and find no inconve- nience in doing fo, I muft conclude, that it is not only natural, but rational, expedient, and manly, Ii2 A N E S S A Y Parti, manly, to credit fuch teftimony : and though I were to perufe volumes of metaphyftc written in proof of the fallibility of teftimony, I mould ftill, like the reft of the world, believe credible teftimony without fear of inconvenience. I know very well, that teftimony is not admitted in proof of any doctrine in mathematics, be- caufe the evidence of that fcience is of a differ- ent kind. But is truth to be found in ma- thematics only ? is the geometrician the only perfon who exerts a rational belief ? do we ne- ver find conviction arife in our minds, except when we contemplate an intuitive axiom, or run over a mathematical demonftration ? In na- tural philofophy, a fcience not inferior to pure mathematics in the certainty of its conclufions, teftimony is admitted as a fufficient proof of ma- ny facts. To believe teftimony, therefore, is a- greeable to nature, to reafon, and to found phi- lofophy. When we believe the declaration of an honeft man, in regard to facts of which he has had experience, we fuppofe, that by the view or per- ception of thofe facts, his fenfes have been af- fected in the fame manner as ours would have been, if we had been in his place. So that faith in teftimony is in part refolvable into that conviction which is produced by the evi- dence of fenfe : at leaft if we did not believe our fenfes, we could not without abfurdity, be- lieve teftimony; if we have any tendency to doubt the evidence of fenfe, we muft, in regard to teftimony, be equally fceptical. Thofe phi- lofophers, therefore, who would perfuade us to reject the evidence of fenfe, among whom are to be Ch. II. 8. ON TRUTH. 113 be reckoned all who deny the exiftence of mat- ter, are not to be confidered as mere theorifts, whofe fpeculations are of too abftracl: a nature to do any harm, but as men of very dangerous principles. Not to mention the bad effects of fuch docTirine upon fcience in general*, I would only at prefent call upon the reader to attend to its influence upon our religious opi- nions and hiftorical knowledge. Teftimony is the grand external evidence of Chriftianity. All the miracles wrought by our Saviour, and particularly that great decifive miracle, his refur- rection from the dead, were fo many appeals to the fenfes of men, in proof of his divine mif- fion: and whatever fome unthinking cavillers may object, this we affirm to be not only the moil proper, but the only proper, kind of ex- ternal evidence, that can be employed, confift- ently with man's free agency and moral pro- bation, for eftablifhing a popular and univer- fal religion among mankind. Now, if matter has no exiftence but in our mind, our fenfes are deceitful : and if fo, St. Thomas muft have been deceived when he felt, and the reft of the apoftles when they faw, the body of their Lord after his refurrecHon ; and all the facls record- ed in hiftory, both facred and civil, were no bet- ter than dreams or delufions, with which per- haps St. Mathew, St. John, and St, Luke, Thu- cydides, Xenophon, and Caefar, were affected, but which they had no more ground of believ- ing to be real, than I have of believing, in con- fequence of my having dreamed it, that I was laft * See below, part 2. chap 2. fe&. 2. ii 4 A N E S S A Y. Parti. laft night in Conftantinople. Nay, if I admit the non-exiftence of matter, I mufl believe, that what my fenfes declare to be true, is not only not truth, but contrary to it. For does not this philofophy teach, that what feems to human fenfe to exifl does not exift; and that what feems corporeal is incorporeal ? and are not existence and non-exiftence, materiality and immateriality, contraries ? Now, if men ought to believe the contrary of what their* fenfes de- clare to be true, the evidence of all hiftory, of all teftimony, and indeed of all external percep- tion, is no longer any evidence of the reality of the facts warranted by it ; but becomes, rather a proof that thofe facts did never happen. If it be urged, as an objection to this reafoning, that BERKELEY was a Chriftian, notwithftand- ing his fcepticifm (or paradoxical belief) in o- ther matters j I anrwer, that though he main- tained the doctrine of the non-exiftence of bo- dy, there is no evidence that he underftood it : nay, there is politive evidence that he did not ; as I mall have occafion to mew afterwards * Again, when we believe a man's word, be- caufe we know him to be honeft, or, in other words, have had experience of his veracity, all reafoning on fiich teftimony is fupported by the evidence of experience, and by our prefumpti- on of the continuance of the laws of nature : the firft evidence refolves itfelf into inftinctive conviction, and the fecond is itfelf an inftinctive prefumption. The principles of common fenfe, therefore, are the foundation of all true rea- foning concerning teftimony of this kind. It * See part 2. chap. 2. fe&. 2. of this Eflay. Chap. a. II. O N T R U T H. 115 It is faid by Mr. HUME, in his Elfay on Mi- racles, that our belief of any fact from the re- port of eye-witnefTes is derived from no other principle than experience ; that is, from our obfervation of the veracity of human teftimony, and of the ufual conformity of facts to the re- port of witnelfes. This doctrine is confuted with great elegance and precifion, and with invincible force of argument, in Dr. Campbell's Differtation on Miracles. It is, indeed, like moft of Mr. HUME'S capital doctrines, repugnant to matter of fact: for our credulity is greateft when our experience is leift ; that is, when we are children ; and generally grows lefs and lefs, in proportion as our experience becomes more and more extenfive : the very contrary of which muft happen, if Mr. HUME'S doctrine were true. There is then in man a propenfity to believe teftimony antecedent to that experience, which Mr. HUME fuppofes, of the conformity of facts to the report of witnefTes. But there is another fort of experience, which may perhaps have fome influence in determining children to believe in teflimony. Man is naturally difpofed to fpeak as he thinks ; and moll men do fo : for the greateft liars fpeak truth much oftener than they utter falfehood. It is unnatural for human creatures to falfify ; and they never think of de- parting from the truth, except they have fome end to anfwer by it. Accordingly children, while their native fimplicity remains uncorrupt- cd, while they have no vice to difguife, no puniih- ment to fear, and no artificial fcheme to pro- mote, do always fpeak as they think : and fo generally u6 A N E S S A Y Parti. generally is their veracity acknowledged, that it has pafTed into a proverb, That children and fools tell truth. Now I am not certain, but this their innate propenfity to fpeak truth, may in part account for their readinefs to be- lieve what others fpeak. They do not fufpect the veracity of others, becaufe they are confci- ous and confident of their own. However, there is nothing abfurd or unphilofophical in fuppofing, that they believe teftimony by one few of their nature, and fpeak truth by another. I feek not therefore to refolve the former prin- ciple into the latter j I mention them for the fake only of obferving, that whether they be allowed to be different principles, or different effects of the fame principle, our general doer- trine remains equally clear, namely, That all reafoning concerning the evidence of teftimony does finally terminate in the principles of com- mon fenfe. This is true, as far as our faith in teftimony is refolvable into experimental con- viction ; becaufe we have already fhown, that all reafoning from experience is refolvable into intuitive principles, either of certain or of pro- bable evidence j and furely it is no lefs true, as far as our faith in teftimony is itfelf inftinclive, and fuch as cannot be refolved into any higher principle. Our faith in teftimony does often, but not al- ways, amount to abfolute certainty. That there is fuch a city as Conftantinople, fuch a country as Lapland, and fuch a mountain as the peak of Teneriffe ; that there were fuch men as Hanni- bal and Julius Caefar j that England was con- quered by William the Norman j that Charles I. was Chap. II. 8. O N TRUTH. 117 I. was beheaded; of thefe, and fuch like truths, every perfon acquainted with hiftory and geography accounts himfelf abfolutely cer- tain. When a number of perfons, not acting in concert, having no intereft to difguife the truth, and fufficient judges of that to which they bear teftimony, concur in making the fame report, it would be accounted madnefs not to believe them. Nay, when a number of witnef- fes, feparately examined, and having had no op- portunity to concert a plan before hand, do all agree in their declarations, we make no fcru- ple of yielding full faith to their teftimony, even though we have no evidence of their ho- nefty or (kill ; nay though they be notorious both for knaveiy and folly : becaufe the fictions of the human mind being infinite, it is impof- fible that each of thefe witneffes fhould, by mere accident, devife the very fame circum- ftances ; if therefore their declarations concur, this is a proof, that there is no fiction in the cafe, and that they all fpeak from real experi- ence and knowledge. The inference we form on thefe occafions is fupported by arguments drawn from our experience; and all arguments of this fort are refolvable into the principles of common fenfe. In general, it will be found true of all our reafoning concerning teftimony, that they are founded, either mediately or im- mediately, upon inftinctive conviction or in- ftinctive afTent; fo that he who has refolved to believe nothing but what he can give a reafon for, can never, confiftently with this refolution, believe any thing, either as certain or as pro- bable, upon the teftimony of other men. SECT. nS A N E S S A Y Part L SECT. IX. Conchifion of this Chapter. L HE conclufion to which we are led by the above induction, would perhaps be admitted by fome to be felf-evident, or at leaft to ftand in no great need of illuftration -, to others it might have been proved a priori in very few words j but to the greater part of readers, a detail of particulars may be necefTary, in order to pro- duce that Jleady and well-grounded corevittion which it is my ambition to eftablim. The argument a priori might be comprehend- ed in the following words. If there be any creatures in human fhape, who deny the dif- tinction between truth and falfehood, or who are unconfcious of that diftinclion, they are far beyond the reach, and below the notice, ofphi- lofophy, and therefore have no concern in this inquiry. Whoever is fenfible of that diftincti- on, and is willing to acknowledge it, muft con- fefs, that truth is fomething fixed and deter- minate, depending not upon man, but upon the Author of nature. The fundamental prin- ciples of truth muft therefore reft upon their own evidence, perceived intuitively by the un- derftanding. If they did not, if reafoning were neceifary to enforce them, they muft be expofed to perpetual viciflitude, and appear under a dif- ferent form in every individual, according to the peculiar turn and character of his reafon- ing Chap. II. 9. O N T R U T H. 119 ing powers. Were this the cafe, no man could know, of any proportion, whether it were true or falfe, till after he had heard all the ar- guments that had been urged for and againft it ; and, even then, he could not know with cer- tainty, whether he had heard all that could be urged: future difputants might overturn the former arguments, and produce new ones, to continue unanfwered for a while, and then fub- mit, in their turn, to their fuccefTors. Were this the cafe, there could be no fuch thing as an appeal to the common fenfe of mankind, even as in a ftate of nature there can be no ap- peal to the law ; every man would be " a law " unto himfelf," not in morals only, but in fcience of every kind. We fometimes repine at the narrow limits prefcribed to human capacity. Hitherto jhalt thou come, and no further , feems a hard prohibi- tion, when applied to the operations of mind. But as in the material world, it is to this pro- hibition nian owes his fecurity and exiftence ; fo, in the immaterial iyftem, it is to this we owe our dignity, our virtue, and our happi- nefs. A beacon blazing from a well-known promontory is a welcome object to the bewil- dered mariner; who is fo far from repining that he has not the beneficial light in his own keeping, that he is fenfible its utility depends on its being placed on the firm land, and com- mitted to the care of others. We have now proved, that " except we " believe many things without proof, we never " can believe any thing at all; for that all " found reafoning muft ultimately reft on the " principles 120 A N E S S A Y Parti. O N T R U T H, 121 tates of my nature deceive me in one cafe, how fhall I know that they do not deceive me in a- nother ? When a philofopher demonftrrites to me, that matter exifts not but in my mind, and, independent on me and my faculties, has no exiftence at all - y before I admit his demonftra- tion, I muil difbelieve all my fenfes, and diftruft every principle of belief within me: before I admit his demonftration, I muft be convinced, that I and all mankind are fools ; that our Ma^ ker made us fuch, and from the beginning in- tended to impofe on us ; and that it was not till about the fix thoufandth year of the world when this impofture was difcovered ; and then difcovered, not by a divine revelation, not by any rational inveftigation of the laws of na- ture, not by any inference from previous truths of acknowledged authority, but by a pretty play of Engliih and French words, to which the learned have given the name of metaphylical reafoning. Before I admit this pretended de- monftration, I mufl bring myfelf to believe what I find to be incredible; which feems to me not a whit lefs difficult than to perform what is impofTible. And when all this is done, if it were pofftble that all this could be done, pray what is fcience, or truth, or falfehood ? Shall I believe nothing ? or (hall 1 believe eve- ry thing ? Or am I capable either of belief, or of difbelief ? Or do I exift ? or is there fuch a thing as exiftence ? The end of all fcience, and indeed of every ufeful purfuit, is to make men happier, by im- proving them in wifdom and virtue. I beg leave to aik, whether the prefent race of men VOL. L I owe 122 A N E S S A Y Parti. owe any part of their virtue, wifdom, or happi- nefs, to what metaphyficians have written in proof of the non-exiftence of matter, and the ne- ceffity of human actions ? If it be anfwered, That our happinefs, wifdom, and virtue, are not at all affected by fuch controverfies, then I muft affirm, that all fuch controverfies are ufe- lefs. And if it be true, that they have a ten- dency to promote wrangling, which of all kinds of converfation is the moft unpleafant, and the moft unprofitable ; or vain polemical difquifi- tion, which cannot be carried on without wafle of time, and proftitution of talents ; or fcepticifnt, whicli tends to make a man uncomfortable in himfelf, and unferviceable to others : then I muft affirm, that all fuch controverfies are both ufelefs and mifchievous : and that the world would be more wife, more virtuous, and more happy, without them, But it is faid, that they improve the underftanding, and render it more capable of difcovering truth, and detecting error. Be it fo : but though bars and locks render our houfes fecure ; and though acutenefs of hear- ing and feeling be a valuable endowment ; it will not follow, that thieves are a public blef- fmg ; or that the man is intitled to my grati- tude, who quickens my touch and hearing, by putting out my eyes. It is further faid, that fuch controverfies make us fenfible of the weaknefs of human reafon, and the imperfection of human knowledge -, and for the fanguinary principles of bigotry and enthu- fiafm, fubftitute the milky ones of fcepticifm and moderation. And this is conceived to be of prodigious emolument to mankind} becaufe a firm Ch. IL 9. ON TRUTH, 123 firm attachment to religion, which a man may call bigotry if he pleafes, doth often give rife to a perfecuting fpirit ; whereas a perfect indiffer- ence about it, which fome men are good-natur- ed enough to call moderation, is a principle of great good-breeding, and gives no fort of dif- turbance, either in private or public life* This is a plea on which our modern fceptics plume themfelves not a little. And who will venture to arraign the virtue or the fagacity of thefe projectors ? To accompliih fo great effects by means fo fimpfts j to prevent fuch dreadful ca- lamities by fo innocent an artifice, - does it not difplay the perfection of benevolence and wifdom ? Truly I can hardly imagine fuch a- nother fcheme, except the following* Sup-* pofe a phyfician of the Sangrado fchool, out of zeal for the intererr. of the faculty, and the public good, to prepare a bill to be laid before the parliament in thefe words : " That whereas " good health, efpecially when of long (landing, " has a tendency to prepare the human frame " for inflammatory diftempers, which have been " known to give extreme pain to the unhappy " patient, and fometimes even bring him to the " grave 5 and whereas the faid health, by ma- " king us briik, and hearty, and happy, is apt " alfo, on fome occafions, to make us difor- " derly and licentious, to the great detriment ** of glafs- windows, Janthorns, and watchmen ; " Be it therefore enacted, That all the inhabi- " tants of thefe realms, foi' the peace of go- " vernment, and the repoie of the fubject, be " compelled, on pain of death, to bring their ** bodies down to a confumptive habit j and that u henceforth no perfon prefume to walk abroad I 2 " with i2 4 AN E S S A tf Parti. " with a cane, on pain of having his head broke " with it, and being fet in the flocks for fix " months; nor to walk at all, except with " crutches, to be delivered at the public charge " to each perfon who makes affidavit, that he " is no longer able to walk without them," &c. He who can eradicate conviction from the human heart, may doublefs prevent all the fatal effects of enthufiafm and bigotry ; and if all human bodies were thrown into a confumpti- on, I believe there would be an end of riot, as well as of inflammatory difeafes. Whether the in- conveniencies, or the remedies, be the greater ^grievance, might perhaps bear a queftion. Bi- gotry, enthufiafm, and a perfecuting fpirit, are very dangerous and defrruclive ; univerfal fcep- ticifm, would, I am fure, be equally fo, if it were to infect the generality of mankind. But what has religion and rational conviction to do with either ? Nothing more than good health has to do with acute diftempers, and rebellious infurrections ; or than the peace of govern- ment/ and tranquility of the fubject, have to do with a gradual decay of our mufcular flefh. True religion tends to make men great, and good, and happy ; and if fo, its doctrines can never be too firmly believed, nor held in too high veneration. And if truth be at all attain- able in philofophy, I cannot fee why we mould fcruple to receive it as fuch, when we have at- tained it ; nor how it can promote candour, good-breeding, and humanity, to pretend to doubt what we do and muft believe, to profefs Ch. II. 9. O N T R U T H. 125 profefs to maintain doctrines of which we are confcious that they (hock our underftanding, to differ in judgement from all the world ex- cept a few metaphyficians, and to queftion the evidence of thofe principles which all other men think unqueftionable and facred. Con- viction, and fteadinefs of principle, is that which gives dignity, uniformity, and fpirit, to human conduct, and without which our happi- nefs can neither be lafting nor fincere. It con- ftitutes, as it were, the vital ftamina of a great and manly character : whereas fcepticifm betrays a fickly underftanding, and a levity of mind, from which nothing can be expected but incon- fiftence and folly. In conjunction with ill- nature, bad tafte, and a hard heart, fteadinefs and ftrong conviction will doubtlefs make a bad man, and fcepticifm will make a worfe : but good-nature, elegant tafte, and fenfibility of heart, when united with firmnefs of mind, be- come doubly refpectablej whereas no man can act on the principles of fcepticifm, without incurring univerfal contempt. But to re- turn : Mathematicians, and natural philofophers, do in effect admit the diftinction between com- mon fenfe and reafon, as illuftrated above j for they are content to reft their fciences either on felf-evident axioms, or on experiments warrant- ed by the evidence of external fenfe. The phi- lofophers who treat of the mind, do alfo fome- times profefs to found their doctrines on the evidence of fenfe: but this profeflion is merely verbal; for whenever experience 'contradicts the fyftem, they queftion the authenticity of I 3 that 126 A N E S S A Y Parti, that experience, and {how you, by a moft ela^ berate inveftigation, that it is all a cheat. For it is er fy to write plaufibly on any fubjecl:, and in /hiv. :ation of any doctrine, when either the indolence of tl;e reader, or the nature of the cpmpofition, gives the writer an opportunity to avail himfelf of the ambiguity of language. It is riot often that men attend to the operati- ons of the mind ; and when they do, it is per- haps with fome metaphyficaj book in their hands, wliich they read with a refolution to admire or defpife, according as the fafhion or .their humour directs them. In this fituation, or even when they are difpofed to judge impar- tially of the writer, their attention to what pafles in their own mind is but fuperficial, and is very apt to be fwayed by a fecret bias in fa- vour of fome theory. And then, it is fometimes difficult to diftinguifh between a natural feeling and a prejudice of education; and our deference to the opinion of a favourite author, makes us think it more difficult than it really is, and of- fen leads us to miftake the one for the other. Nay, the very a6l of ftudying difcompofes our minds a little, and prevents that free play of the faculties from which alone we can judge with accuracy of their real nature. Befides, language, being originally intended to anfwer the obvious exigencies of }ife, and exprefs the qualities of matter, becomes metaphorical when applied to the operations of mine}. Thus we talk meta- phorically, when we fpeak of a warm imagina- tion, a found judgement, a tenacious memory, an enlarged underlVanding ; thefe epithets being priginally and prep crly ^xprefTive of material qua- lities . Ch. II. 9. O N T R U T H. 127 lities. This circumftance, however obvious, is not always attended to ; and hence we are apt to miftake verbal analogies for real ones, and to apply the laws of matter to the operations of mind; and thus, by the mere delufion of words, are led into error before we are aware, and while our premiies feem to be altogether unex- ceptionable. It is a favourite maxim with LOCKE, as it was with fome ancient philofo- phers, that the human foul, previous to edu- cation, is like a piece of white paper, or tabula rafa-j and this fimile, harmlefs as it may appear, betrays our great modern into feveral important miflakes. It is indeed one of the moft unlucky allufions that could have been chofen. The human foul, when it begins to think, is not extended, nor of a white colour, nor incapable of energy, nor wholly unfurnifhed with ideas, (for, if it think at all, it muft have fome ideas, according to LOCKE'S definition of the word *), nor as fufceptible of any one impreflion or cha- racler as of any other. Even when the terms we ufe are not metaphorical, the natural ab- ftrufenefs of the fubjecl: makes them appear fomewhat myfterious ; and we are apt to con- fider them as of more fignificancy than they re- ally are. Had Mr. HUME told the world in plain terms, that virtue is a fpecies of vice, darknefs a fort of light, and exiftence, a kind of non-exiftence, I know not -what metaphyfi- cians might have thought of the difcoveryj but J 4 fure * The word idefi ferves Left to ftand for whatsoever is the objeft of the underftanding when a man thinks. J have ufed it to exprefs whatever it is which the mind can be employed about in thinking. Introdufttvn to EJ/ay on Human U ndtrft anting > fefi. 8. 123 A N E S S A Y Parti. fure I am, no reader of tolerable underftanding would have paid him any compliments upon it*. But when he fays, that contrariety is a mixture of caufation and refemblance ; and, ftill more, when he brings a formal proof of this moft fage remark, he impofes on us by the folemnity of the expreflion ; we conclude, that " more is " meant than meets the ear;" and begin to fancy, not that the* author is abfurd or unin- telligible, but that we have not fagacity enough to difcover his meaning. It were tedious to reckon up one half of the improprieties and er- rors which have been introduced into the phi- lofophy of human nature, by the indefinite ap- plication of the words, idea^ imprejjion^ percep- tion^ fenfation^ &c. Nay, it is well known, that BERKELEY'S pretended proof of the non- exiftence of matter, at which common fenfe Jlood aghafl for many years, has rio better foundation. . * Mr. HUME had faid, that the only principles of connexion among ideas are three, to wit, refemblance, contiguity in time or place, and caufe or effect; Inquiry concerning Human Underftanding, feft. 3. It afterwards occurred to him, that contrary ideas have a tendency to introduce one another into the mind. But inftead of adding contrariety to the lift of connecting principles, which he ought to have done, and which would have been philofophical, he affumes the metaph) fician, and endeavours to prove his enumera- tion right, by revolving contrariety, as a fpecies, into refemblance and caufation, as genera. " Contrail, or contrariety," fays he, ' is a connection among ideas, which may perhaps be confidered as a mixture of caufation and refemblance. Where two ob- jedls are contrary, the one deflroys the other, i. e. is the caufe of its, annihilation ; and the idea of the annihilation of an ob- jedl implies the idea of its former exiftence." Is it poijible to make any fenfe of this ? Darknefs and light are contrary; ^he one deftroys the other, or is the caufe of its annihilation ; and the idea of the annihilation of darknefs implies the idea of its former ex t jftence. This is given as a proof, that darknefs partly refembles Ji ht, and partly is the caufe of light. Indeed! But, O ft fie cm- via dixijfet ! This is a harmlefa abfurdity! Ch.II.9- O N T R U T H. 129 foundation, than the ambiguous ufe of a word. He who confiders thefe things, will not be much difpofed to overvalue metaphyfical truth, (as it is called), when it happens to contradict any of the natural fentiments of mankind. In the laws of nature, when thoroughly un- derftood, there appear no contradictions : it is only in the fyftems of philofophers that reafon and common fenfe are at variance. No man of common fenfe ever did or could believe, that the horfe he faw coming toward him at full gal- lop, was an idea in his mind, and nothing elfej no thief was ever fuch a fool as to plead in his own defence, that his crime was necefTary and unavoidable, for that man is born to pick pockets as the fparks fly upward. When Reafon invades the rights of Common Senfe, and pre- fumes to arraign that authority by which fhe herfelf acts, nonfenfe and confufion muft of ne- ceffity enfue; fcience will foon come to have neither head nor tail, beginning nor end; phi- lofophy will grow contemptible j and its adher- ents, far from being treated, as in former times, upon the footing of conjurers, will be thought by the vulgar, and by every man of fenfe, to be little better than downright fools. PART PART II. ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRECEDING DOC- TRINE, WITH INFERENCES. JtS U T now a difficulty occurs, which it is not eafy to folve. Granting what is faid above to be true ; that all legitimate reafoning, whether of certain or of probable evidence, does not fi- nally refolve itfelf into principles of common fenfe, which we muft admit as certain, or as pro- bable, upon their own authority j that therefore common fenfe is the foundation and the ftand- ard of all juft reafoning; and that the genuine fentiments of nature are never erroneous : yet, by what criterion {hall we know a fenti- ment of nature from a prejudice of education, a dictate of common fenfe from the fallacy of an inveterate opinion ? Muft every principle be admitted as true, which we believe without be- ing able to aflign a reafon ? then where is our fecurity againft prejudice and implicit faith ! Or muft every principle that feems intuitively certain, or intuitively probable, be reafoned up- on, that we may know whether it be really what it feems ? then where our fecurity againft the abufe fo much infifted on, of fubjecting com- mon fenfe to the teft of reafoning ! At what point muft reafon ftop in its inveftigations, and the dictates of common fenfe be admitted as decifive and final ? It Part II. AN E S S A Y, &c. 131 It is much to be regretted, that this matter has been fo little attended to : for a full and fa- tisfactory difcuflion of it would do more real fervice to the philofophy of human nature, than all the fyftems of logic in the world ; would at once exalt pneumatology to the dignity of fci- ence, by fettling it on a firm and unchangeable foundation ; and would go a great way to ba- nifh fophiftry from fcience, and rid the world of fcepticifm. This is indeed the grand defide- ratum in logic ; of no lefs importance to the moral fciences, than the difcovery of the longi- tude to navigation. That I mail fully folve this difficulty, I am not fo vain, nor fo igno- rant, as to imagine. But I humbly hope I Thai! be able to throw fome light on the fubject, and contribute a little to facilitate the progrefs of thofe who may hereafter engage in the fame purfuit. If I can accomplifh even this, I mall do a fervice to truth, philofophy and mankind : if I fhould be thought to fail, there is yet fome- thing meritorious in the attempt. To have fet the example, may be of confequence. I fhalj endeavour to conducl the reader to the conclufion I have come to on this fubjecl:, by the fame fteps that led me thither ; a me- thod which I prefume will be more perfpicu- ous, and more fatisfying, than if I were firfl to lay down a theoiy, and then aflign the reafons. By the way, I cannot help exprefling a wim, that this method of invefti gallon were lefs un- cpmmon, and that philosophers would fom.e^ times explain to us, not only their difcoveries, but alfo the procefs of thought arid experiment, whether 132 A N E S S A Y. Part II. whether accidental or intentional, by which they were led to them. If the boundary of Reafon and Common Senfe had never been fettled in any fcience, I would abandon my prefent fcheme as defpe- rate. But when I reflect, that in fome of the fciences it has been long fettled, with the utmoft accuracy, and to univerfal fatisfaction, I con- ceive better hopes -, and flatter myfelf, that it may perhaps be poflible to fix it even in the phi- lofophy of the mind. The fciences in which this boundary has been long fettled and ac- knowledged, are, mathematics, and natural philofophy ; and it is remarkable, that more truth has been difcovered in thofe fciences than in any other. Now, there is not a more effect- ual way of learning the rules of any art, than b; attending to the practice of thofe who have performed m it moft fuccefsfully : a maxim which, I fuppofe, is no lefs applicable to the art ofinvefligating truth, than to the mechani- cal and the fine arts. Let us fee then, whe- ther, by attending to the practice of mathema- ticians and natural philosophers, as contrafted with the practice of thofe who have treated of the human mind, we can make any difcoveries preparatory to the folution of this difficulty. CHAP. Ch. I. i. ON TRUTH. 133 CHAP. I. Confirmation of this theory from the prac- tice of Mathematicians and Natural Phi- lofophers. SECT. I. 1 HAT the diftinction between Reafon and Common Senfe, as here explained, is acknowledg- ed by mathematicians, we have already mown *. They have been wife enough to truft to the dictates of common fenfe, and to take that for truth which they were under a neceflity of be- lieving, even though it was not in their power to prove it by argument. When a mathemati- cian arrives, in the courfe of his reafoning, at a principle which he muft believe, and which is of itfelf fo evident, that no arguments could either illuftrate or enforce it, he then knows, that his reafon can carry him no further, and he fits down contented ; and if he can farisfy himfelf, that the whole invefligation is fairly conducted, and does indeed terminate in this felf-evident principle, he is perfuaded, that his conclufion is true, and cannot be falfe. Where- as the fceptics, from a ftrange conceit, that the dictates of their underftanding are fallacious, and that Nature has her roguifh emiifaries in every corner, comrmilioned and fworn to play tricks 1 See part I . chap. 2. feft. i . A N E S S A Y PartIL tricks with poor mortals, cannot find in their heart to admit any thing as truth, upon the bare authority of their common fehfe. It is doubt- lefs a great advantage to geometry, that its firft principles are fo few, its ideas fo diftinft, and its language fo definite. Yet a captibus and pa- radoxical wrangler might, by dint of fophiftry, involve the principles even of this fcience in confufion, provided he thought it worth his while *. But geometrical paradoxes would not roufe the attention of the public j whereas moral paradoxes, when men begin to look about for arguments in vindication of impiety and immorality, become interefting, and can hardly fail of a powerful and numerous pa- tronage. The corrupt judge ; the proftituted courtier; the flatefman who enriches himfelf by the plunder and blood of his country ; the pettifogger, who fattens on the fpoils of the fa- therlefs and the widow ; the oppreffor, who to pamper his own beaflly appetite, adbandons the deferving peafant to beggary and defpair ; the hypocrite, the debauchee, the gamefter, the blafphemer, prick up their ears when they are told, that a celebrated author has written a book containing fuch doctrines, or leading to fuch confequences, as the following : " That " moral and intellectual virtues are nearly of d talk, and act, like other people in the common affairs of life." "Treatife f Human Nature, 'vol. I. p. 46^. " In all the incidents of life we ought ftill to preferve our fcep- ' iicifm. If we believe that fire warms, or water refreflies, 'tis ' only becaufe it cofts us too much pains to think otherwife. Nay, ' if \ve are philofophers, it ought only to be upon fceptical prin- ' ciples.'"' Id. p. 469. f " If I muft be a fool, as all thofe who reafon or believe any "" thing certainly are, my follies fliall at leaft be natural and agree- ' able/' Id. p. 468. Ch. I. i. ON f R U T H. 139 " ry conceit of yours is a proof that you have < not gone deep enough : for you muft know, < that the underftanding, when it acts alone, < arid according to its moft general principles, " entirely fubverts itfelf, and leaves not the tow* * eft degree of evidence in any proportion, < either in philofophy or common life J. This " to the illiterate vulgar may feem as great a " contradiction or paradox, as if we were to " talk of a man's jumping down his own throat : . r:.m Nature, -vol. j. /. 466. i. 4 o A N E S S A Y Part II. < you are no philofopher. Philofopher indeed ! " to take a thing of fuch confequence for " granted, without proof, without examinati- < on ! I hold you four to one, that I fhall " demonftrate a priori ', that this fame edifice of * c yours will be good for nothing. I am inclin- <( ed to think, that we live in too early a period " to difcover ANY PRINCIPLES that will bear " the examination of the lateft pofterity ; the " world, Sir, is not yet arrived at the years of tc difcretion : it will be time enough, two or " three thoufand years hence, for men to be- " gin to dogmatife, and affirm, that two and < two are four, that a triangle is not a fquare, " that the radii of the fame circle are equal, not the fame intention $ a different intention appears in the manflayer from 1 each information ; and it is only the intention and affections that the moral faculty condemns or approves.- To difcover the intention where- with actions are' performed, rcafoni-ng is often necefTar-y: but the defign of fuch reafoning, is riot to fway or inform the eonfciense, but only to afcertain thofe circumftances-- o-r quali- ties of the action from which the intention of the agent may appear. When this becomes manifeft, the conscience of mankind immedi- ately and intuitively declares it to be virtuous,, or vicious, or innocent. Thefe different judge- ments of the moral faculty are fo far from- proving it fallacious, that they prove the con- trary : at leaft this faculty would be extremely fallacious, and abfolutely ufelefs, if, in the cafe now fuppofed, it did not form different judge- ments. Ch.l. 2. O N T R U T H. 157 ments. While the intention of the agent is wholly unknown, an action is upon the fame footing with regard to its morality, as a human face in regard to its beauty, while it is veiled, or at too great a' diftance. By removing the veil, or walking up to the object, we perceive its beauty and features ; and by reafoning, or by information concerning the circumftances of the action, we are enabled to difcover or infer the intention of the agent. The at of re- moving the veil, or of walking up to the object, has no effect on the eye; nor has the reafoning ^ny effect on the conference. While we view an ,dbje& through an impure or unequal medi- um, through a pair of green fpectacles, or ai> uneven pane of glafs, we fee it difcojoured or nducti and it is alfo'by the ex- perience of our own fenfes, or by our belief in thofe who have had fuch experience, that we become fenfible of inequalities or obfcurities in the medium through which we contemplate vi- fible objects. In either cafe the evidence of fenfe is admitted as finally decifive. A diftem- pered fenfe, as well as an impure or unequal medium, may doubtlefs communicate falfe fen- fations ; but we are never impofed upon by L 3 them 158 A N E S S A Y Part II. them in any thing material. A perfon in a fever may think honey bitter, and the fmell of a rofe offenfive j but the delufion is of fo fhort continuance, and of fo fingular a kind, that it can do no harm, either to him, or to the caufe of truth. To a jaundiced eye, the whole crea- tion may feem tinctured with yellow j but the patient's former experience, and his belief in the teilimony of others, who amire him, that they perceive no alteration in the colour of bo- dies, and that the alteration he perceives is a common attendant on his difeafe, will fuffici- ently guard him againft miflakes. If he were to difrruft the evidence of fenfe, he could believe neither his own experience nor their teftimony. He corrects, or at leaft becomes fenfible of, the falfe fenfation, by means of fenfations formerly received when he was in health; that is, he cor- rects the evidence of an ill-informed fenfe by that of a well-informed fenfe, or by the declaration of thofe whofe fenfes he believes to be better informed than his own. Still it is plain, that from the evidence of fenfe there can be no ap- peal to reafon. We conclude, therefore, that in natural phi- lofophy, our fenfations are not fuppofed deceit- ful, and that reafoning is not carried beyond the principles of common fenfe. And yet in this fcience full fcope is given to impartial in- veiligation. If, after the firft experimental procefs, you fufpect that the object may be fet in a frill fairer light, I know no law in logic, or in good fenfe, that can or ought to hinder you from making a new trial : but if this new trial Chap. I. 2. O N T R U T H. 159 trial turn to no account, if the object Hill ap- pear the fame, or if it appear lefs diftinct than before, it were folly not to remain fatisfied with the firft trial. Newton tranfmitted one of the refracted primitive colours through a fecond prifm, thinking it not impoflible that this co- lour might refolve itfelf into others ftill more fimple ; but finding it remain unaltered, he was fatisfied that the primitive colours are not compounded, but fimple, and that the experi- mental procefs had been carried far enough. 1 take in my hand a perfpective glafs, whofe tube may be lengthened and fhortened at plea- fure ; and I am to find out, by my own induf- try, that precife length at which the maker de- figned it fhould be ufed in looking at diftant objects. I make feveral trials to no purpofe : the diftant object appears not at all, or but ve- ry confufedly. I hold one end of the perfpec- tive at my eye with one hand, and with the other I gradually fhorten the tube, having firft drawn it out to its greateft length. At firft all Is confufion ; now T I can difcern the inequali- ties of the mountains in the horifon ; now the object I am in queft of begins to appear ; it becomes lefs and lefs confufed ; I fee it diftinct- ly. I continue to fliorten the tube ; the object lofes its diftinct appearance, and begins to re- lapfe into its former obfcurity. After many trials, I find, that my perfpective exhibits no diftinct appearance, except when it is of one par- ticular length. Here then I fix ; I have ad- gufted the glafTes according to the intention of the maker : and I believe, that the diftinct ap- pearance is an accurate reprefentation of the diftant 160 A N E S S A Y Part II. diftant object, or at leaft more accurate than any of the confufed appearances ; of which I believe, that they come the nearer to truth the more they approach to diftinftnefs, and that the moil confufed reprefentations are the moil falfe, It was not by reafoning about the fallacy of the fenfes, and profecuting a train of argument beyond tl^e principles of common fenfe, that men difcovered the true fyftem of the world. In the earlier ages, when they imagined the fun to be little bigger than the mountain beyond which he difappeared, it was abfurd to think of the earth revolving round him. But in pro- cefs of time, ingenious men, who applied them- felves to the obfervation of the heavenly bodies, not with a view to confute popular errors, for they could not as yet even fufpe6l the vulgar opinion to be erroneous, but merely to gratify their own laudable curiofity, began to conceive more exalted notions of the mundane fyflem. They foon diftinguifhed the planets from the fixed ftars, by obferving the former to be more variable in their appearances. After a long fucceffion of years, they came at laft tounder- ftand the motions of the fun and moon fo well, that, to the utter aftonifhment of the vulgar, they began to calculate eclipfes, : a degree of knowledge they could not attain, without being convinced, that the fun and moon are very large bodies, placed at very great diftances from the earth, the former much larger, and more re- mote, than the latter. Thus far it is impoffible j that any reafoning had been employed Ch. 1.2. ON TRUTH. 161 by thofe ancient aftronomers, either to prove, or todifprove, the evidence of the fenfes. On the contrary, they muft all along have taken it for granted, that the fenfes are not fallacious ; fuppofmg only, (what is certainly agreeable to common fenfe to fuppofe), that the experience of a diligent obferver is more to be depended on than that of the inattentive multitude. As men grew more and more acquainted with the motions and appearances of the heavenly bodies, they became more and more fenfible, that the fun, earth, and planets, bear fome very peculiar relation to one another : and having learned from the phenomena of eclipfes, and fome other natural appearances, that the fun is bigger than the earth *, they might, with- out abfurdity, begin to fufpecl:, that poflibly the fun might be the centre round which the earth and other planets revolve ; efpecially con- fidering the magnificence of that glorious lumi- nary, and the wonderful and delightful effects produced by the influence of his beams, while at the fame time he feems not to derive any ad- vantage from the eaith, or other planets. But if the matter had been carried no further, no reafoning from thefe circumftances could ever have amounted to a proof of the point in quef- tion, * Heraclitus maintained, that the fun is but a foot broad ; Anaxagoras, that he is much larger than the country Peloponnefus ; and Epicurus, that he is no bigger than he appears to the eye. But the aftronomers of antiquity maintained, that he is bigger than the earth ; eight times, according to the Egyptians ; eigh- feen times, according to Eratofthenes ; three hundred times, ac- cording to Cleomedes ; one thoufand and fifty times, according to Hipparchus ; and fifty-nine thoufand three hundred and nine-r teen times according to Poflidoniu . 162 A N E S S A Y Part II, tion, though it might breed a faint prefumpti- on in its favour. For flill the evidence of fenfe feemed to contradict it ; an evidence that no- thing can difprove, but the evidence of fenfe placed in circumftances more favourable to ac- curate obfervation; and thus the point was brought to the teil of common fenfe. And now, we not only know, that the Copernican theory is true, for every perfon who under- ftands it is convinced of its truth ; but we al- fo know to what caufes the univerfal belief of the contrary doctrine \s to be afcribed. We know that men, confidering the remote fitua- tion of our earth, and the imperfection of our fenfes, could not have judged otherwife than they did, till that imperfection was remedied, either by accuracy of obfervation, or by the invention of optical inftruments. We fpeak not of revelation ; which has indeed been vouchfafed to man for the regulation of his moral conduct j but which it would be prefump- tion to expect, or defire, merely for the gratifi- cation of curiofity. It is evident, from what has been faid, that in natural philofophy, as well as in mathema- tics, no argumentation is profecuted beyond felf- , evident principles 3 that as in the latter all rea- : foning terminates in intuition, fo in the former ; all reafoning terminates in the evidence of fenfe. And as, in mathematics, that is accounted an intuitive axiom, which is of itfelf fo clear and evident, that it cannot be illuftrated or enforc- ed by any medium of proof, and which muft be believed, and is in fact believed, by all, on its own authority j fo, in natural philofophy, that Ch.1.2. ON TRUTH. 163 that is accounted an ultimate principle, un- deniable and unqueftionable, which is fupport- ed by the evidence of a well-informed fenfe, placed fo as to perceive its object. In mathe^ matics, that is accounted falfe doctrine which is inconfiftent with any felf-evident principle ; in natural philofophy, that is rejected which contradicts matter of fact, or, in other words, which is repugnant to the appearances of things as perceived by external fenfe. Regulated by this criterion of truth, mathe- matics and natural philofophy have become of all fciences the moft refpectable in point of cer- tainty. Hence I arrj encouraged to hope, that if the fame criterion were univerfally adopted in the philofophy of the mind, the fcience of hu- man nature, inflead of being, as at prefent, a chaos of uncertainty and contradiction, would acquire a confiderable degree of certainty, per- fpicuity, and order. If truth be at all attain- able in this fcience, (and if it is not attainable, why fhould we trouble our heads about it ?), furely it muft be attained by the fame means as in thofe other fciences. I therefore would propofe, " That in the " philofophy of human nature, as well as in " phyfics and mathematics, principles be ex- " a,mined according to the ftandard of common " fenfe, and be admitted or rejected as they are " found to agree or difagree with it ;" more ex- plicitly, " That thofe doctrines be rejected whofe fenfe of feeing I therefore confider as lefs perfect than mine. Nay, tho' the generality of man- kind were mort-fighted, Hill it would be true, that we, who are not fo, have the moft perfect fight ; for our fight is more accurate in its per- ceptions, qualifies us better for the bufmefs of life, and coincides more exactly, or more imme- diately, with the fenfations received by the other fenfes". Yet the fhort-fighted, as well as they who have the acuteft fight, truft to this fenfe, as foon as they are placed in a fituation favour^ able to accurate obfervation : all the difference is, that it is more difficult, and often more in- convenient, for fhort-fighted perfons to place themielves Ch. 1. 4. O N T R U T H. 169 themfelves in fuch a fituation. Still it fhould be remembered that a perf eft fenfe and a well-in- formed fenfe are not lynonymous terms. We call a fenfe well-informed^ in oppofition to one that is depravedoi* fallacious. Perfection and im- perfeflivn of fenfe are relative terms ; implying a companion, either between different men, in ref- pecl: of the acutenefs of their fenfes and facul- ties ; or between any fenfe, as it appears in a par- ticular man, and the degree of acutenefs which is found to belong to that fenfe as it appears in the generality of mankind. There are two tele- fcopes, one of which gives a diftincl: view of art object at two, and the other at four miles dif- tance: both are equally well-informed, (if I may fo fpeak); that is, equally true in their re- prefentations ; but the one is much more imper- fett than the other. I do not, at prefent, offer any further illuftra- tions of thefe criteria of a well-informed fenfe: The reader who examines them by the rules of common prudence, will perhaps be fatisfied with them : at leail I am apt to think, that few will fufpect the veracity of their faculties when they ftand this teft. But let it not be fuppofed, that I mean to iniinuatc, that a man never trufts his faculties till he firft examine them after this manner : we believe our fenfes previoufly to all reflection or examination j and we never diibe- lieve them, but upon the authority of our fenfes placed in circumftances more favourable to accu- rate obfervation. If the reader is not fatisfied with thefe criteria^ it is no great matter. The queftion concerning a well-informed fenfe it is not perhaps eafy to an- VOL. I. M fwen iyo A N E S S A Y Partll. fwer. I offer thefe remarks rather as hints to be attended to by other adventurers in this part of fcience, than as a complete folution of the difficulty. If it were not that I prefume fbme advantage may be derived from them in this way, I fhould have omitted them altoge- ther ; for on them does not depend the doctrine I mean to eftablifh. SECT, III. The fubjeSl continued. Intuitive truths dijlinguijh- able into daffes* the notions attending the perception of certain truth, we formerly mentioned this as one, " That in regard to fuch truth, we fuppofe we " fhould entertain the fame fentiments and be- " lief if we were perfectly acquainted with all " nature*." Left it fhould be thought that we mean to extend this notion too far, it feems pro- per to introduce here the following remarks. i . The axioms and demonftrated conclufi ons of geometry are certainly true, and certainly a- greeable to the nature of things. Thus we judge of them at prefent ; and thus we necef- farily believe, that we fhould judge of them, even if we were endued with omnifcience and infal- libility. It is a natural dictate of human un- derftanding, that the contrary of thefe truths muft for ever remain abfurd and impoflible; and that omnipotence itfelf cannot change their * See part i. chap, i, Ch. I. 3. ON TRUTH. 171 their nature ; though it might fo deprave our judgement, as to make us difoelieve, or not per- ceive them^. 2. That my body exifts, and is endued with a thinking, aclive, and permanent principle, which I call my foul 5 That the material world hath fuch an existence as the vulgar afcribe to it, that is, a real feparate exiftence, to which its being perceived is in no wife necefTary ;--- That the men, hearts, houfes, and mountains, we fee and feel around us, are not imaginaiy, but real and material beings, and fuch, in refpect of fhape and tangible magnitude, as they appear to our fenfes ; I am not only confcious that I believe, but alfo certain, that fuch is the nature of thefe things 5 and that, thus far at leaft, in regard to M 2 the f Some authors are of opinion, that all mathematical truth is refolvable into identical propofitions. The following remark to this purpofe is taken from a DifTertation on Evidence, printed at Berlin in the year 1764. " Omnes mathematicorum propofitiones funt identical, et repnefentantur hac formula, a=ei. Suntveri- tates identicae, fub varia forma expreffe, imo ipfum, quoddici- tur, contradiftionis principium, vario modo cnunciatum et in- volutum; fiquidem omnes huj us generis propofitiones revera in eo contineantur. Secundum noftram autem intelligendi facul- tatem -ea eft propofitionum differentia, quod qucfcdam longa ra- tiociniorum ferie, alia autem breviori via, ad primum omnium principium reducantur, et in illud refolvantur. Sic. v. g. propo- fitio 2-J-2 4, ftatim hue cedit idem eft idem; et, proprieloquendo, hoc modo enunciari debet. Si contingat, adefle vel exiftere quatuor entia, turn exiftunt quatuor entia ; nam de exiftentia non agunt geometrs, fed ea hy- pothetice tautum fubintelligitur. Iride fumma oritur certitudo ratiociniaperfpicienti ; obfervat nempe idearum identitatem ; et hajc eft evidentia, aflenfum immediate cogens, quam mathema- ticam aut geometricam vocamus. Mathefi tamen fua natur.i priva non elt et propria ; oritur etenim ex identitatis perception c, que locum haberc poteft, etiamfi ideae non repraefentent extcu fum." Of the connection of geometrical axioms with identical propofitions, fee Dr< Campbell's Philofophy of Rhetorick, book i. chap. 5. feel. i. j 7 2 A N E S S A Y PartIL the nature of thefe things j an omnifcient and infallible being cannot think me miftaken. Of thefe truths I am fo certain, that I fcruple not to pronounce every being in an error who is of a contrary fentiment concerning them. For fup- pofe an intelligent creature, an angel for in- ftance, to believe that there are not in the uni- verfe any fuch things as this folar fyftem, this earth, thefe mountains, houfes, animals, this being whom I call myfelf ; could I, by any ef- fort, bring myfelf to believe, that his opinion is a true one, and implies a proportion expreffive of fomething agreeable to the nature of things ? It is imppflible and inconceivable. My under- ftanding intimates, that fuch an opinion would as certainly be falfe, as it is falfe that two and two are equal to ten, or that things equal to one and the fame thing are unequal to one another. Yet this is an opinion which omnipotence could render true, by annihilating the whole of this fo- lar fyftem j or make me admit as true, by de- priving me of underftanding. But fo long as this folar fyftem remains unannihilated, and my intel- lect undepravedj there is not a geometrical axiom more true, or more evident to me, than that this folar fyftem, and all the objects above-menti- oned, do exift; there is not a geometrical axiom that has any better title to be accounted a principle of human knowledge ; there is not a geometrical axiom againft which it is more abfurd, more unreafonable, more unphilofophi- cal, to argue, 3. That mow is white, fire hot, gold yellow, and fugar fweet, we believe to be certainly true. Thefe bodies affect our eyes, touch, and palate, in a peculiar Ch. I. 3. O N T R U T H. 173 a peculiar manner > and we have no reafon to think, that they affect the organs of different men in a different manner. The peculiar fen- fation we receive from them depends on three things -, on the nature of the object perceived, on the nature of the organ of perception, and on the nature of the percipient being. Of each of thefe things the Deity could change the nature -, and make fugar bitter, fire cold, fnow black, and gold green. But till this be done, in other words, while things continue as they are, it is as cer- tainly true, that fnow is white, fire hot, &c. as that two and two are equal to four, or a whole greater than a part. Ifwefuppofe, that fnow, notwithstanding its appearance, is black, or not white, we muft alfo fuppofe, that our fenfes and intellect are fallacious faculties ; and therefore cannot admit any thing as tine which has no better evidence than that of fenfe and intellect. If a creature of a different nature from man were to fay, that fnow is black, and hot, I mould reply, (fuppofmg him to ufe thefe words in the fame fenfe in which I ufe them), it may poffibly have that appearance to your fenfes, but it has not that appearance to mine : it may therefore, in regard to your faculties, be true ; and if fo, it ought to constitute a part of your philolbphy : but of my philofophy it cannot conftitute a part, becaufe, in refpect of my faculties, it is falfe, being contrary to my experience*. If the fame M 3 being * This does not imply, that the fame thing may be both true and falfe ; true in refpeft of one, and falfe in refpedl of another : and con- fequently, that truth is not fomething abfolute and immutable, but variable and relative. I had remarked, that our fenfations depend i 7 4 A N E S S A Y Part II. being were to affirm, that a part is equal to a whole, I fhould anfwer, it is impoffible ; none can think fo but thofe who are deftitute of un- derflanding. If he were to fay, The folar fyf- tem explained by Newton does not exift, I fhould anfwer, You are miftaken j if your knowledge were not imperfect, you would think other- wife > I am certain that it does exift. We fee, by thus ftating the cafe, what is the difference between thefe three forts of certainty. But ftill, in refpecl to man, thefe three forts are all equal- ly evident, equally certain, and equally unfuf- ceptible of confutation : and none of them can be difbelieved or doubted by us, except we difa- vow thediftinclion between truth and falfehood, byfuppofing our faculties fallacious. 4. Of moral truth, we cannot bring ourfelves to think that the Deity's notions (pardon the ex- preffion) are contrary to purs. If we believe Him omnifcient and infallible, can we alfo be- lieve, that, in his fight, cruelty, injuftice, and ingratitude, are worthy of reward and praife, and depend on three things, the nature of the objeft perceived, the nature of the organ of perception, and the nature of the percipient. Confequently, an alteration in any one of thefe, though the other two remain unaltered, alters the fenfation. The quality of the fnow, therefore, the thing perceived, remaining che fame, it may affect one kind of percipient being with one fort of fenfation, and another kind with a fenfation entirely different. A difference of fenfation will alfo arife from the different ftates of the organ. A man who has one hand wrapt up in his bofom, and the other expofed to frofty air, will feel the fame water cold with one hand, and warm with the other. Yet he does not believe that there is any change in the water j but he believes that the fame temperature in 'it occasions both feelings. In like manner, we do not con- ceive any change to be made on the cloth, or even on the colour con- fidered as a quality in the body, though in day-light it appenr to us green, and in candle-light blue, and in every light to a perfon in the jaundice yellow. Ch. I. 3. ON T R U T H. 175 and the oppofite virtues of blame and punifh- ment ? It is abfolutely impoflible. The one be- lief deftroys the other. Common fenfe declares, that a being poflefled of perfect knowledge can no more entertain fuch a fentiment, than I with my eyes open can juft npj^ avoid feeing the light. If a created being were to think that vir- tue which we think vice, and that vice which we think virtue, what would be our notions of his intelligence? Should we not, without hefi- tation, pronounce him irrational, and his opini- on an abfurdity ? The abfurdity indeed is con- ceivable, and may be exprefled in words that imply no contradiction : but that any being fhould think in this manner, and yet not think wrong, is to us as perfectly inconceiva- ble, as that the fame thing fhould be both true and falfe*. We fpeak here of the great and leading prin- ciples of moral duty. Many fubordinate duties there are, which refult from the form of particu- lar governments, and from particular modes of education ; and there are fome, which, though admirably adapted to the improvement of our nature, are yet fo fublime, that the natural con- fcience * Locke fays, that Moral Truth is fufceptible of deaionftration. Jf by this he means, that it admits of evidence fufficient to fatisfy every rational mind, he is certainly in the right. But if by the word demonftraticn be meant, what Geometricians mean by it, a proof that may be refolved into one or more felf-evident axioms whofe contraries are inconceivable, we confefs that neither moral nor hiftorical truth is fufceptible of demonltration, nor many other truths of the moft unqueiHonable certainty. However, it is not to be fuppofed, that Locke intended to ufe this word in any ftrict,er fenfe than what is fixed by general pra&ice ; according to which, e- very proof that brings indubitable evidence to therealbn or fcnfes may properly be called a demonftration. 176 A N E S S A Y Part II. fcience of mankind, unaffifted by revelation, can hardly be fuppofed capable of difcovering them : but in regard to juftice, gratitude, and thofe o- ther virtues, of which no rational beings (fo far as we know) are or can be ignorant, it is impoffible for us to believe that our fenti- ments are wrong. I fay, there are duties of which no rational beings can be ignorant ; for if moral fentiments be the refult of a bias, or vis injita^ communicated to the rational foul by its Creator, then muft they be as uni- verfal as rational nature., and as permanent as the effects of any other natural lav/; and it is as abfurd to argue againft their truth or authenticity, as againft the reality of any o- ther matter of fact. But feveral authors of note have denied this inference, as well as the prin- ciple whence it proceeds; or at leaft, by calling the one in queftion, have endeavoured to make us fceptical in regard to the other. They have endeavqured to prove, that moral fentiment is different in different countries, and under diffe- rent forms of religion, government, and man- ners ; that therefore, in refpect of it, there is no vis injita in the mind; for that, previous to e- ducation, we are in a ftate of perfect indifference as to virtue and vice ; and that an oppofite courfe of education would have made us think that vir- tue which we now think vice, and that vice which we now think virtue : in a word, that moral fentiments are as much the effect of cuf- tom and human artifice, as our tafle in drefs, furniture, and the modes of convention. In proof of this doctrine, a multitude of facts have been brought together, to fhovv the prodi- gious Ch. I. 3. ON TRUTH. 177 gious diverfity, and even contrariety, that takes place in the moral opinions of different ages, na- tions, and climates. Of all our modern fcepti- cal notions, this feemed to me one of the moft dangerous. For my own fatisfaction, and for the fake of thofe whom it is my duty to inftruft, I have been at great pains to examine it ; and the examination has turned out to my entire fa- tisfaclion. But the materials I have collected on this fubjecfc are far too bulky to be inferted here. The fceptical arguments are founded, not only on miftakes concerning the nature of vir- tue, but alfo on fome hiftorical facts mifrepre- fented, and on others fo equivocal, and bare of circumftances, that they really have no meaning. From the number of hiftorical, as well as phi- lofophical, difquifitions, which I found it necef- fary to introduce, the inquiry concerning the uni- verfality and immutability of moral truth^ which I thought to have comprifed in a few pages, foon fwelled into a treatife. I meant to have ri- mmed it fome years ago ; but have been prevent- ed by a number of unforefeen accidents. 5. Of probable truth, a fuperior being may think differently from us, and yet be in the right. For every proportion is either true or falfe; and every probable paft event has either happened, or not happened; as every probable future event will either happen or not happen. From the imperfection of our faculties, and from the narrownefs of our experience, we may judge wrong, when we think that a certain event has happened, or will happen : and a being of more exteniive experience, and more perfect under- ftanciing, raay fee that we judge wrong; for that the J7 8 A N E S S A Y Part II. the event in queftion never did happen, nor e- ver will. Yet it does not follow, that a man may either prudently or rationally diftruft his probable notions as fallacious. That which man, by the conftitution of his nature, is de- termined to admit as probable, he ought to admit as probable; for, in regard to man, that is probable truth. Not to admit it pro- bable, when at the fame time he mufl believe it to be fo, is mere obftinacy : and not to believe that probable, which all other men wjio have the fame view of all the circumftances, believe probable, would be afcribed to caprice, or want of underftanding. If one in fuch a cafe were refractory, we fhould naturally afk, How comes it that you think differently from us in this mat- ter ? have you any reafon to think us in a mif- take? is your knowledge of the circumftances from which we infer the probability of this e- vent, different from ours? do you know any thing about it of which we are ignorant ? If he reply in the negative, and yet perfift in contra- dicling our opinion, we fhould certainly think him an unreasonable man. Every thing, there- fore, which to human creatures feems intuitive- ly probable, is to be accounted one of the firft principles of probable human knowledge. A human creature acts an irrational part when he argues againft it ; and if he refufe to acknow- ledge it probable, he cannot, without contra- dicting himfelf, acquiefce in any other human probability whatfoever. It appears from what has been faid, that there are various kinds of intuitive certainty ; and that thofe who will not allow any truth to be felf-e- vident, Ch.I. 3. O N T R U T H. 179 vident, except what has all the charafteriftics of a geometrical axiom, are much miftaken. From the view we have given of this fubje6l, it would be eafy to reduce thefe intuitive certain- ties into clafles ; but this is not neceflary on the prefent occafion. We are here treating of the nature and immutability of truth as perceived by human faculties. Whatever intuitive propo- fition man, by the law of his nature, muft be- lieve as certain, or as probable, is, in regard to him, certain or probable truth ; and muft con- ititute a part of human knowledge, and remain unalterably the fame, as long as the human con- ftitution remains unaltered. And we muft of- ten repeat, that he who attempts to difprove fuch intuitive truth, or to make men fceptical in regard to it, acts apart as inconfiftent with found reafoning, and as aftecTiually fubverfive of human knowledge, as if he attempted to difprove truths which he knew to be agreeable to the eternal and neceflary relations of things. Whether the Dei- ty can or cannot change thefe truths into falfe- hoods, we need not feek to determine, becaufe it is of no confequence to us to know. It be- comes us better to inquire, with humility and reverence, into what he has done, than vainly, and perhaps prefumptuoufly, into what he can do. Whatever he has been pleafed to eftablifh in the univerfe, is as certainly eftablifhed, as if it were in itfelf unchangeable and from eternity ; and, while he wills it to remain what he made it, is as permanent as his own nature. CHAP. i3q A N E S S A Y Part II. CHAP. II. The preceding theory rejected by Sceptical Writers. W E have feen, that mathematicians and na- tural philofophers do, in effecT:, acknowledge the diftinction between common fenfe and rea- fon, as above explained 5 admitting the dictates of the former as ultimate principles, and never attempting either to prove or difprove them by reafoning. If we inquire a little into the genius of modern fcepticifm, we fhall fee, that, there, a very different plan of inveftigation has been a- .dopted. This will beft appear by inftances taken from that pretended philofophy. But firft let us offer a few general remarks. SEC T. I. General Observations. Rife and Progrcfs of MOr dern fcepticifm. j . 1 H E Cartefian philofophy is to be confi- dered as the ground-work of modern fcepti- cifm. The fource of LOCKE'S reafoning againft the feparate ex'vftence of the fecondary qualities of matter, of BERKELEY'S reafoning againft the existence of a material world, and of HUME'S reafoning againft the exiftence both of fouJ and body, may be found in the firft part of the Prin- cipia Ch. II. i. ON TRUTH; 181 cipia of DES CARTES. Yet nothing feems to have been further from the intention of this wor- thy and moft ingenious philofopher, than to give countenance to ir religion or licentioufnefs. He begins with doubting; but it is with a view to ar- rive at conviction : his fuccefTors (fame of them at leaft) the further they advance in their fyftems, become more and more fceptical ; and at length the reader is told, to his infinite pleafure and e- molument, that the underftanding, acting alone, does entirely fubvert itfelf, and leaves not the loweft degree of evidence in any proportion*. The rlril thing a philofopher ought to do, ac- cording to DES CARTES, is to dived himfelf of all prejudices, and all his former opinions; to reject the evidence of fenfe, of intuition, and of mathematical demonftration ; to fuppofe that there is no God, nor heaven, nor earth; and that man has neither hands, nor feet, nor bo- dy j in a word, he is to doubt of every thing of which it is poffible to doubt, and to be per- fuaded, that every thing is falfe which can pof- fibly be conceived to be doubtful. Now there is only one point of which it is impodible to doubt, namely, That I, the perfon who doubts, am thinking. This proportion, therefore 1 think, and this only, may be taken for granted ; and nothing elfe whatfoever is to be believed without proof. What is to be expected from this ftrange in- troduction ? One or other of thefe two things muft neceifarily follow. This author will ei- ther believe nothing at all ; or if he believe any thing, * Treatifc of Human Nature, vol. i. p. 464.. 182 A N E S S A Y fart II. thing, it muft be upon the recommendation of fophiftical reafoning*. But DES CARTES is no fceptic in his moral reafonings: therefore, in his moral reafonings, he muft be a fophifter. Let us fee, whether we can make good this charge againft him by facts. Taking it for granted that he thinks, he thence infers, that he exifts : Ego cogtto, ergo fum: I think; therefore I exift. Now there cannot be thought where there is no exiftence; before he take it for granted that he thinks, he muft alfo take it for granted that he exifts. This argument, therefore, proceeds on a fup- pofition, that the thing to be proved is true; in other words, it is a fophifm, a petitio principii. Even fuppofing it poffible to conceive thinking, without at the fame time conceiving exiftence, ftill this is no conclufive argument, except it could be (hown, that it is more evident to a man that he thinks, than that he exifts ; for in every true proof a lefs evident proportion is inferred from one that is more evident. But, / think y and, I exift^ are equally evident. Therefore this is no true proof. To fet an example of falfe reafoning in the very foundation of a fyftem, can hardly fail to have bad confequences. Having in this manner eftablifhed his own exiftence, our author next proceeds to prove the veracity of his faculties ; that is, to (how by rea- foning, that what he thinks falfe is really falfe. He would have done better to have taken this alfo for granted : the argument by which he at- tempts * See the firft part of this Effty- Ch.II.1. O N T R U T H. 183 tempts to prove it, does more honour to his heart than to his underftanding. It is indeed a fophifm of the fame kind with the former, in which he takes that for granted which he meant to prove. It runs thus. We are con- fcious, that we have in our minds the idea of a being infinitely perfect, intelligent, and power- ful, neceflarily exiftent and eternal. This idea differs from all our other ideas in two refpects : It implies the notions of eternal and necef- fary exiftence, and of infinite perfection ; it neither is, nor can be, a fiction of the fancy ; and therefore exhibits no chimera or imaginary being, but a true and immutable nature, which muft of neceflity exift, becaufe neceffary exift- ence is comprehended in the idea of it. There- fore there is a God, neceflarily exiftent, infi- nitely wife, powerful, and true, and pofTefled of all perfection. This Being is the maker of us and of all our faculties ; he cannot deceive, becaufe he is infinitely perfect ; therefore our faculties are true, and not fallacious *. The fame argument has been adopted by others, par- ticularly by Dr. BARROW. " Cartefius, fays that pious and learned author, " hath well " obferved, that, to make us absolutely certain " of our having attained the truth, it is re- " quired to be known, whether our faculties of " apprehending and judging the truth, be true ; <{ which can only be known from the power, " goodnefs, and truth of our Creator -J-." lob- * Cartefii Princip. Philof. part i . 14. 15.18. {- Left. Geomet. 7. 1 84 A N E S S A Y Pan II, I object not to this argument for the divine exiftence* drawn from the idea of an all-perfect being, of which the human mind is confcious : though perhaps this is not the moft unexcep- tionable method of evincing that great truth. I allow, that when a man believes a God, he cannot, without abfurdity and impiety, deny or queftion the veracity of the human facul- ties; and that to acknowledge a diftinction between truth and falfehood, implies a perfua- fion, that certain laws are eftablimed in the univerfe, on which the natures of all created things depend, which (to me at leaft) is incom- prehenfibie, except on the fuppofition of a fu- preme, intelligent, directing caufe. But I ac- quiefce in theie principles, becaufe I take the veracity of my faculties for granted ; and this I feel myfelf neceflitated to do, becaufe I feel it to be the law of my nature, which I cannot poilibly counteract. Proceeding then upon this innate and irrefiftible notion, that my fa- culties are true, I infer, by thejufteft reafon- ing, that God exifts ; and the evidence of this great truth is fo clear and convincing, that I cannot withftand its force, if I believe any thing elfe whatever, DES CARTES argues in a different manner. Becaufe God exilts, (fays he), and is perfect, therefore my faculties are true. Right. But how do you know that God exifts ? I infer it from the fecond principle of my philoibphy, already eftabiifhed, Cogito ergo fum.liow do you know that your inference is juft ? It fatisfies my reafon. Your argument proceeds on a fup- pofition, that what fatisfies your reafon is true ? It Ch.II. i. O N T R U T H. 185 It does. Do you not then take it for grant- ed, that your reafon is not a fallacious, but a true faculty ? This muft be taken for granted, otherwife the argument is good for nothing. And if fo, your argument proceeds on a fup- pofition, that the point to be proved is true. In a word, you pretend to prove the truth of our faculties, by an argument which evident- ly and necelTarily fuppofes their truth. Your philofophy is built on fophifms ; how then can it be according to common fenfe ? As this philofopher doubted where he ought to have been confident, fo he is often confident where he ought to doubt. He admits not his own exiftence, till he thinks he has proved it ; yet his fyftem is replete with hypothefes taken for granted, without proof, almofr. without examination. He fets out with the profeflion of univerfal fcepticifm ; but many of his theo- ries are founded in the moft unphilofophical credulity. Had he taken a little more for granted, he would have proved a great deal more : he takes almoft nothing for granted, (I fpeak of what he profeifes, not of what he performs) ; and therefore he proves nothing. In geometry, however, he is rational and inge- nious ; there are fome curious remarks in his difcourfe on the paflions ; his phyfics are fan- ciful and plaufible ; his treatife on mufic perfpi- cuous, though fuperficial : a lively imaginati- on feems to have been his chief talent j want of knowledge in the grounds of evidence his prin- cipal defecl:. We are informed by Father MALEBRANCHE, that the fenfes were at firft as honeft faculties VOL. I. N as 1 86 A N E S S A Y Part II. as one could defi re to be endued with, till after they were debauched by original fin ; an adven- ture, from which they contracted fuch an in- vincible propenfity to cheating, that they are now continually lying in wait to deceive us. But there is in man, it feems, a certain clear- fighted, flout, old faculty, called Reafon, which,, without being deceived by appearances,, keeps an eye upon the rogues, and often proves too cunning for them. MALEBRANCHE therefore advifeth us to doubt with all our might. " If " a man has only learned to doubt," fays he,, " let him not imagine that he has made an " inconfiderable progrefs*." Progrefs ! in what ? in fcience ? Is it not a contradiction, or at lealt an inconfiftency, in terms, to fay that a man makes progrefs in fcience by doubting -J- ? If one were to alk the way to Dublin, and to receive for anfwer, that he ought firft of all to- fit down 5 for that if he had only learned to fit ftill, he might be allured, that he had made no inconfiderable progrefs in his journey ; I fup- pofe he would hardly trouble his informer with a fecond queftion. It is true, this author makes a diftincYion be- tween the doubts of paffion, brutality, and blindnefs, and thofe of prudence, diftrult, and penetration : the former, fays he, are the doubts of Academics and Atheifts j the latter are the doubts of the true philofopher J. It is true al- fo> * Qu'on ne s'imagine on pas, que Ton ait peu avance, fi on a feulement appris a douter. La Recherche de la Vcrlte, li a ro Sia-pon, &C. f Ariftot. Metaphyf. lib. 4. cap. 4. J O'^Qu; ' tyjei xat TO xAi and defired the fophift to limit his queftion, by confining the word good to fome particular thing. Do you alk me, fays he, what is good for a fever, for fore eyes, or for hunger ? No, fays the fo- phift. Xoyo? tTr a. Id. ibid. l\lyxftv rov iuxaT>, jSaXo^Evo? TH$ 'mccro, 3% wvha.TT6ptvo^ ^ j ifffirHO-ptvot paXir ^tfrloiit ret Xenopb, Memcrab. lib. 3. cap. 8. Ch.II. i. ON TRUTH. phut. If, replies he, you afk me concerning the nature of a good which is good for no par- ticular purpofe, I tell you once for all, that I know of none fuch, and have no defires after it. In like manner, he anfwers to the general queftion concerning beauty, by defiring his ad- verfary to confine himfelf to fome particular kind of beauty. What would the great mora- lifl have thought of thofe modern treatifes, which feem to have nothing elfe in view, but to contrive vain definitions of general ideas ! Simple, certain, and ufeful truth, was the conftant, and the only, object of this philofo- pher's inquiry. True it is, he fometimes faid, that he knew nothing but his own ignorance. And furely the higheft attainments in human knowledge are imperfect and unfatisfying. Yet man knows fomething : Socrates was confcious that he knew fomething ; otherwife Xenophon would not have afferted, that his opinions concern- ing God, and Providence, and Religion, and Moral Duty, were well known to all the Athe- nians *. But Socrates was humble, and made no pretenfions to any thing extraordinary, ei- ther in virtue or in knowlege. He profefTed no fcience ; he inftructed others, without pe- dantry, and without parade j exemplifying the beauty and the practicability of virtue, by the integrity of his life, and by the charms of an inftructive, though moft infmuating, converfa- tion -j~. His addrefs, in conduftin^ an argu- ment * Xcnoph. Memorab. lib. i. cap. i. ) Ibid. cap. 2. 496 AN ESSAY PartH. ment or inquiry, was very remarkable. He put on the appearance of an ignorant perfon, and feemed to be only afking queftions for his information, when he was leading his difciple or antagonift to the acknowledgement of fome ufeful truth. It is pity that this mode of in- ftruction is not more generally praftifed. No other method conveys fo clear conviction to the mind of the young ftudent, or fo effectually cultivates his underftanding : for, by thus co- operating with the teacher in the inveftigation of truth, his attention is fixed, his fancy di- rected, and his judgement exercifed, no lefs than if the difcovery were altogether his own. Cicero feems to have been an Academic ra- ther in name than in reality. And I am apt to think, from feveral pafTages in his works *, that he made choice of this denomination, in order to have a pretence for reafoning on ei- ther fide of eveiy queftion, and confequently an ampler field for a difplay of his rhetorical talents f. To Pyrrho, Herillus, Arifto, and other fceptics, who, by aflerting that all things are indifferent, deftroy the diftinction of virtue and vice, he will not allow even the name of philofopher : nay, he infinuates that it is im- pudence in fuchperfons to pretend to it J. " I " wifh," fays he in another place, " that they " who fuppofe me a fceptic were fufficiently " acquainted * See particularly De Ojpciis, lib. 3. cap. 4. De Fata, cap. 2. De Or a fore, lib. 3. cap. 21, f See this point illuftraied in REMARKS UPON A DISCOURSE OF FREETHINKING, &c. By Phileleutherus Lipfeenjls (Dr. Bent- ley) Edit. 7. p. 262. t De officiis, lib. i. cap. 2. Chap. II. i. O N T R V T H. 197 cc acquainted with my fentiments. For I am " not one of thofe whofe mind wanders in er- that truth and virtue are no better than human contrivances; or, at leaft, that they have no- thing permanent in their nature, but may be as changeable as the inclinations and capacities of men; and that, as we underfland the term, there is no fuch thing as common fenfe in the world. Surely this is not the doctrine that LOCKE meant to eftablifh ; but his zeal againft innate ideas, and innate principles, put him off his guard, and made him allow too little to in- ftinct, for fear of allowing too much. This controverfy, as far as it regards moral fenti- ment, I propofe to examine in another place. At prefent I would only obferve, that if truth be any thing permanent, which it muft be if it be any thing at all, thofe perceptions or impulfes of underftanding, by which we become confci- ous of it, muft be equally permanent ; which they could not be, if they depended on educati- on, and if there were not a law of nature, in- dependent on man, which determines the un- derilanding * Preface to the E#ay on Human Underftandiag. Ch. II. i. O N T R U T H. 199 derftanding in fome cafes to believe, in others to difbelieve. Is it poflible to imagine, that any courfe of education could ever bring a rational creature to believe, that two and two are equal to three, that he is not the fame perfon to-day he was yefterday, that the ground he ftands on does not exift ? could make him difbelieve the teftimony of his own fenfes, or that of other men ? could make him expect unlike events in like circumftances ? or that the courfe of na- ture, of which he has hitherto had experience, will be changed, even when he forefees no cauie to hinder its continuance ? I can no more be- lieve, that education could produce fuch a depra- vity of judgement, than that education could make me fee all human bodies in an inverted po- fition, or hear with my noflrils, or take pleafure in burning or cutting my flem. Why mould not our judgements concerning truth be ac- knowledged to refult from a bias imprefTed upon the mind by its Creator, as well as our defire of felf-prefervation, our love of fociety, our re- fentment of injury, our joy in the pofleflion of good ? If thofe judgements be not inftinftive, I fhould be glad to know how they come to be univerfal: the modes of fentiment and behavi- our produced by education are uniform only where education is uniform ; but there are ma- ny truths which have obtained univerfal ac- knowledgement in all ages and nations. If thofe judgements be not inftinclive, I fhould be glad to know how men find it fo difficult, or rather impoffible, to lay them afide : the falfe opinions we imbibe from habit and education, may be, and often are, relinquifhed by thoie who make a pro- per aoo ANESSAY Part If . per ufe of their reafon ; and he who thus re- nounces former prejudices, upon conviction of their falfity, is applauded by all as a man of candour, fenfe, and fpirit; but if one were to fuffer himfelf to be argued out of his com- mon fenfe, the whole world would pronounce him a fool. Thefubftance, or at leaft the foundation, of BERKELEY'S argument againft the exiftence of matter, may be found in LOCKE'S Eflay, andin the Principia of DES CARTES. And if this ar- gument be concluiive, it proves that to be falfe which every man muft neceflarily believe every moment of his life to be true, and that to be true which no man fince the foundation of the world was ever capable of believing for a fmgle moment. BERKELEY'S doctrine attacks the moft incontestable dictates of common fenfe; and pretends to demonftrate, that the cleareft principles of human conviction, and thofe which have determined the judgement of all men in all ages, and by which the judgement of all rational men muft be determined, are certainly fallacious. Mr. HUME, more fubtle, and lefs refervedj than any of his predeceflbrs, hath gone ftill greater lengths in the demolition of common fenfe; and reared in its place a moft tremendous fabric of doctrine; upon which, if it were not for thenimfinefs of its materials, engines might eafily be erected, fufficient to overturn all belief, fcience, religion, virtue, and fociety, from the very foundation. He calls this work, " A " Treatife of Human Nature; being an attempt " to introduce the experimental method of rea- " foning Ch. II. i. O tf T R U T H. 0i c * foning into moral fubje6ls." This is, in the ftyle of Edmund Curl, a taking title page - y but, alas ! " Fronti nulla fides !" The whole of this author's fyfterh is founded on a falfe hypo- thefis taken for granted ; and whenever a fa6l contradictory to that falfe hypothecs occurs to his obfervation, he either denies it, or labours hard to explain it away. This, it feems, in his judgement, is experimental rea- foning ! He begins his book with affirming, That all the perceptions of the human mind refolve themfelves into two claries, impreffions, and i- deas j that the latter are all copied from the for- mer; and that an idea differs from its corref- pondent impreffion only in being a weaker per- ception. Thus, when I fit by the fire I have an. impreffion of heat, and I can form an idea of heat when I am fhivering with cold ; in the one cafe I have a ftronger perception of heat, in the other a weaker. Is there any warmth in this idea of heat? There muft, according to this doctrine; only the warmth of the idea is not quite fo ftrong as that of the impreffion. For this author repeats it again and again, that " an u idea is by its nature weaker and fainter than " an impreffion, but is in every other refpecT' " (not only fimilar, but) the fame*." Nay, he goes further, and fays, that tc whatever is true " of the one muft be acknowledged concerning " the other-}- 5" and he is fo confident of the VOL. I. O " truth Treatife of Human Nature, vol. i. p. 13!, Ibid. p. 41. 102 A N E S S A Y Fart II. truth of this maxim, that he makes it one of the pillars of his philofophy. To thole who may be inclined to admit this maxim on his authori- ty, I would propofe a few plain queftions. Do you feel any, even the leaft warmth, in the idea of a bonfire, a burning mountain, or the gene- ral conflagration ? Do you feel more real cold in Virgil's Scythian winter, than in Milton's de- fcription of the flames of hell? Do you ac- knowledge that to be true of the idea of eating,, which is certainly true of the impreffion of it, that it alleviates hunger, fills the belly, and con- tributes tc the fupport of human life ? If you anfwer thefe queftions in the negative, you de- ny one of the fundamental principles of this philofophy. We have, it is true, a livelier per- ception of a friend when we fee him, than when we think of him in his abfence. But this is not all : every perfon of a found mind knows, that in the one cafe we believe, and are certain, that the objecl: exifts, and is prefent with us; in the other we believe, and are certain, that the objecl: is not prefent : which, however, they muft de- ny, who maintain, that an idea differs from an impreflion only in being weaker, and in no other reipecl whatfoever. That every idea fhould be a copy and refem- blance of the impreffion whence it is derived ; that, for example, the idea of red fhould be a red ideaj the idea of a roaring lion a roaring idea; the idea of an afs, a hairy, long-eared, fluggim idea, patient of labour and much ad- dicted to thirties; that the idea of extenfion mould be extended, and that of folidity folid; t that a thought of the mind mould be endued with Ch.II. i. O N T R U T H. 203 with all, or any, of the qualities of matter, is, in my judgement, inconceivable and impoflible* Yet our author takes it for granted ; and it is another of his fundamental maxims. Such is the credulity of Scepticifm ! If every idea be an exact refemblance of its correfpondent impreflion, (or object, for thefe terms, according to this author, feem to amount to the fame thing*); if the idea of extenfion be extended, as the fame author allows-)- ; then the idea of a line, the fhorteft that fenfe can perceive, muft be equal in length to the line itfelf - y for if fhorter it would be impercep- tible ; and it will not be faid, either that an im- perceptible idea can be perceived, or that the idea of an imperceptible object can be form- ed : confequently the idea of a line a hundred times as long, muft be a hundred times as long as the former idea ; for if fhorter, it would be the idea, not of this, but of fome other fhorter line. And fo it clearly follows, nay it admits of de- monftration, that the idea of an inch is really an inch long ; and that of a mile, a mile long. In a word, every idea of any particular extenfion is equal in length to the extended object. The fame reafoning holds good in regard to the other dimenfions of breadth and thicknefs. All ideas, therefore, of folid objects, muft be (according to this philofophy) equal in magnitude and fo- lidity to the objects themfelves. Now mark the confequence. I am juft now in an apartment containing a thoufand cubic feet, being ten fee* O 2 fquare, * Treatife of Human Nature, vol. i. p. 12. 13. 362. t Ibid. p. 416. 417. oo 4 A N E S 3 A Y Pattll. fquare, and ten high > the door and windows are fhut, as well as my eyes and ears. Mr. HUME will allow, that in this fituation, I may form ideas, not only of the vifible appearance, but alfo of the real tangible magnitude of the whole houfe, of a fail-rate man of war, of St. Paul's cathedral, or even of a much larger object. But the folid magnitude of thefe ideas is equal to the folid magnitude of the objects from which they are copied : therefore I have now prefent with me an idea, that is, a folid extended thing, whofe dimenfions extend to a million of cubic feet at lead. The queflion now is, Where is this thing placed ? for a place it muft have, and a pretty large one too. 1 fhould anfwer> In my mind ; for I know not where elfe the ideas of my mind can be fo conveniently depofited, Now my mind is lodged in a body of no great dimenfi ons, and my body is contained in a room teii feet fquare, and ten feet high, It feems then, that, into this room, I have it in my power at pleafure to introduce a folid object a thoiifand, or ten thoufand, times larger than the room it* ielf. I contemplate it a while, and then by ano- ther volition fend it a-packing, to make way for another object of equal or fuperior magni- tude. Nay, in no larger vehicle than a common poflchaife, I can tranfport from one place to a- nother, a building equal to the largeft Egyptian pyramid, and a mountain as big as the peak of TenerifF. Take care, ye difciples of HUME, and be very well advifed before ye reject thismyflery as impoflible and incomprehenfible. It feems to be'geometrically deduced from the principles, nay from the firft principles of your mailer. Say, Chap. II. i. O N T R U T H. 205 Say, ye candid and intelligent, what are we to expecl from a logical and fyftematic treatife founded on a fuppofition that leads into fuch abfurdity ? Shall we expect truth r then muft it not be inferred by falfe reafoning ? Shall we expect found reafoning ? then muft not the in- ferences be falfe? Indeed, though I cannot much admire this author's iagacity on the pre- fent occalion, I muft confefs myfelf not a little aftonifhed at his courage. A witch going to fea in an egg-mell, or preparing to take a trip through the air on a broom-ftick, would be a furprifing phenomenon'; but it is nothing to Mr. HUME, on fuch a bottom, " launching out " into the immenfe depths of philofophy." To multiply examples for the confutation of fo glaring an abfurdity, is ridiculous. I there- fore leave it to the reader to determine, whe- ther, if this doctrine of jolid and extended ideas be true, it will not follow, that the idea of a roaring lion muft emit audible found, almoft as loud and as terrible, as the royal beaft in per- fon could exhibit; that two ideal bottles of brandy will intoxicate as far at Icaft as two genuine bottles oP'winej and that I muft be greatly hurt, if not dafhed to pieces, if I am fo imprudent as to form only the idea of a bomb burfting under my feet. For has not our au- thor faid, that " imprefiions and ideas corn- " prehend all the perceptions (or objects) of e atfefted with thofe in the fame manner as with thefe. But the moment we awake, and recover the ufe of our faculties, we are fenfible, that the dream was a delufion, and that the objefts which now folicit our notice are real. To demand a rea- fon for the implicit confidence we repofe in our waking perceptions ; or to defire us to prove, that things are as they appear to our waking fenfes, and not as they appear to us in fleep, is as unreafonable as to demand a reafon for our belief in our own exiftence : in both cafes our belief is neceflary and unavoidable, the re- fult of a law of nature, and what we cannot in practice contradict, but to our mame and per- dition. Further : If DES CARTES thought an argu- ment neceflary to convince him, that his per- ception of the external world was not imagina- ry, but real, I would aik, how he could know that his argument was real, and not imaginary. How could he know that he was awake, and not afleep, when he wrote his Principles of Philofophy, if his waking thoughts did not, previous to all reafoning, carry along with them undeniable evidence of their reality ? lam awake, is a principle which he muft have taken for P 2 granted, 220 A N E S S A Y Part II. granted, even before he could fatisfy himfelf of the truth of what he thought the mil of all principles, Cogito, ergo fum. To which we may add, that if there be any perfons in the world who never dream at all *, (and fome fuch I think there are), and whofe belief in the exiftence of a material world is not a whit ftronger than that of thofe whofe ileep is alway attended with dreaming ; this is a proof from experience, that the delufions of fleep do not in the leaft affect our conviction of the authenticity of the per- ceptions we receive, and of the faculties we ex- ert, when we awake. The firft part of DES CARTES' argument for the exiftence of bodies, would prove the reality of the vifionary ideas we perceive in dreams ; for they, as well as bodies, prefent themfelves to us, independent on our will. But the principal part of his argument is founded on the veracity of God, which he had before inferred from our confcioufnefs of the idea of an infinitely perfect, independent, and neceflarily- exiftent being : Our fenies inform us of the ex- iftence of body; they give us this information in confequence of a law eftablilhed by the divine will : but God is no deceiver ; therefore is their information true. I have formerly given my opinion * " I once knew a man," fays Mr. LOCKE, "who was bred a fcholar, and had no bad memory, who told me, that he had never dreamed in his life, till he had that fever he was then newly recovered of, which was about the five or fix and twenti- eth year of his age. I fuppofe the world affords more fuch in- ftances." Effay on Human Vnderjranding, Bock z.ch i . A young gentleman of my acquaintance never dreams at all, except when his health is difordcrcd. Ch.II. 2. O N T R U T H. -or indolent, or unacquainted with the prin- ciples of this philofophy, or little verfed in your metaphyfical logic. But am I convinced, from this pretended demonftration, that matter has no exiftence but as an idea in the mind ? Not in the leafl ; my belief now is precifely the fame as before. Isitunphilofophical, not to be con- vinced by arguments which I am not able to confute ? Perhaps it may, but \ cannot help it : you may, if you pleafe, ftrike me off the lift of philofophers, as a nonconformift j you may Ch.II. 2. O N T R U T H. 225 may call me unpliant, unreafonable, unfafhion- able, and a man with whom it is not worth while to argue : but till the frame of my nature be unhinged, and a new fet of faculties given me, I cannot believe this ftrange doctrine, be- caufe it is perfectly incredible. But if I were permitted to propofe one clownifh queftion, I would fain afk, Where is the harm of my con- tinuing in my old opinion, and believing, with the reft of the world, that I am not the only created being in the univerfe, but that there are many others, whofe exiftence is as inde- pendent on me, as mine is on them ? Where is the harm of my believing, that if I were to fall down yonder precipice, and break my neck, I fhould be no more a man of this world ? My neck, .Sir, may be an idea to you, but to me it is a reality, and an important one too. Where is the harm of my believing, that if in this fe vere weather, I were to neglect to throw (what you call) the idea of a coat over the ideas of my fhoulders, the idea of cold would produce the idea of fuch pain and diforder as might poflibly terminate in my real death ? What great offence fhall I commit againft God or man, church or ftate, philofophy or common fenfe, if 1 conti- nue to believe, that material food will nourifh me, though the idea of it will not : that the real fun will warm and enlighten me, though the livelieft idea of him will do neither ; and that, if I would obtain true peace of mind and felf-approbation, I muft not only form ideas of compailion, juftice, and generofity, but alfo really exert thofe virtues in external perform- ance ? What harm is there in all this ? O ! no harm 226 A N E S S A Y Part II. harm at all, Sir 5 but the truth, the truth, will you fhut your eyes againft the truth ? No honefl man ever will : convince me that your doctrine is true, and I will inftantly em- brace it. Have I not convinced thee, thou ob- flinate, unaccountable, inexorable ; An- fwer my arguments, if thou canft. Alas, Sir, you have given me arguments in abundance, but you have not given me conviction ; and if your arguments produce no conviction, they are worth nothing to me. They are like coun- terfeit bank-bills ; fome of which are fo dex- tsroufly forged, that neither your eye nor mine can detect them ; yet a thoufand of them would go for nothing at the bank ; and even the pa- per-maker would allow me more handfomely for old rags. You need not give yourfelf the trou- ble to tell me, that I ought to be convinced : I ought to be convinced only when I feel convic- tion : when I feel no conviction I ought not to be convinced. It has been obferved of fome doctrines and reafonings, that their extreme abfurdity prevents their admitting a rational confutation. What ! am I to believe fuch a doctrine ? am I to be convinced by fuch reafon- ing ? Now, I never heard of any doctrine more fcandaloufly abfurd, than this of the non-exifl- ence of matter. There is not a fiction in the Perfian Tales that I could not as eafily believe ; the fillieft conceit of the moft contemptible fu- perftition that ever difgraced human nature, is not more fhocking to common fenfe, nor more repugnant to eveiy principle of human belief. And muft I admit this jargon for truth, becaufe J cannot confute the arguments of a man who is Ch. II. a. O N T R U T H. 227 is a more fubtle difputant than I ? Does philo- fophy require this of me ? Then it muftfuppofe, that truth is as variable as the fancies, the cha- racters, and the intellectual abilities of men, and that there is no fuch thing in nature as common fenfe. But all this, I fhall perhaps be told, is but cavil and declamation. What if, after all, this very doctrine be believed, and the fophiftry (as you call it) of BERKELEY be admitted as found reafoning, and legitimate proof? What then becomes of your common fenfe, and your in- ftinctive convictions ? What then, do you afk ? Then indeed I acknowledge the fact to be very extraordinary ; and I cannot help being in fome pain about the confequences, which muft be im- portant and fatal. If a man, out of vanity, or from a defire of being in the fafhion; or in or- der to pafs for wonderfully wife, fhall fay, that BERKELEY'S doctrine is time, while, at the fame time his belief is precifely the fame with mine, it is well; I leave him to enjoy the fruits of his hypocri- fy, which will no doubt contribute mightily to his improvement in candour, happinefs, and wifdom. If a man profefling this doctrine, act like other men in common affairs of life, I will not believe his pro- feffion to be fmcere. For this doctrine, by remov- ing body out of the univerfe, makes a total change in the circumftances of men j and therefore, if it is not merely verbal, muft produce a total change in their conduct. When a man is only turned out of his houfe, or ftripped of his cloaths, or robbed of his money, he muft change his behaviour, and act differently from other men, who enjoy thofe ad- vantages . Perfuade a man that he is a beggar and a vagabond 223 A N E S S A Y Part II. vagabond, and you fhall inftantly fee him change his manners. If your arguments againft the exift- ence of matter have ever carried conviction along with them, theymuftat the fame time have pro- duced a much more extraordinary change of con- duel ; but if they have produced no change of con- duct, I infift on it, they have never carried convicti- on along with them, whatever vehemence of pro- teftation men may have ufed in avowing fuch con- viction. If you fay, that though a man's under- Handing be convinced, there are certain inftincts in his nature that will not permit him to alter his conduct ; or, if he did, the reft of the world would account him a mad-man ; by the firft apology, you allow the belief of the non-exiftence of body to beinconfiftent with the laws of nature; by the fecond, to be inconfiftent with common fenfe. But if a man be convinced, that matter has no exiftence, and believe this ftrange tenet as fteadily, and with as little diftruft, as I believe the contrary; he will, I am afraid, have but lit- tle reafan to applaud himfelf on this new acqui- fition in fcience; he will foon find, it had been better for him to have reafoned, and believed, and acted, like the reft of the world. If he fall down a precipice, or be trampled under foot by horfes, it will avail him little, that he once had the honour to be a difciple of BERKELEY, and to believe that thofe dangerous objects are nothing but ideas in the mind. And yet, if fuch a man be feen to avoid a precipice, or to get out of the way of a coach and fix horfes at full fpeed, he acts as inconfiftently with his belief, as if he ran away from the picture of an angry man, even while he believed it to be a picture, Suppofmg his Ch. II. 2. ON T R U T R his life preferved by the care of friends, or by the ftrength of natural inflinft urging him to ac"l contrary to his belief j yet will this belief coft him dear, For if the plaineft evidence, and fulleft conviction, be certainly fallacious, I beg to be informed, what kind of evidence, and what degree of conviction, may reafonably be depended on. If nature be a juggler by trade, is it for us, poor purblind reptiles to at- tempt to penetrate the myfteries of her art, and take upon us to decide, when it is fhe prefents a true, and when a falfe appearance ! I will not fay, however, that this man runs a greater rilk of uni- verfal fcepticifm, than of univerfal credulity. Either the one or the other, or both, muft be his portion ; and either the one or the other would be fufficient to imbitter my whole life, and to difqualify me for every duty of a rational crea- ture. He who can believe againft common fenfe, and againft the cleareft evidence, and a- gainft the fulleft conviction, in anyone cafe, may do the fame in any other; confequently he may become the dupe of every wrangler who is more acute than he ; and then, if he is entirely fe- cluded from mankind, his liberty, and happinefs, are gone for ever. Indeed a chearf ul temper, ftrong habits of virtue, and the company of the wife and good, may ftill fave him from perdition, if he have no temptations nor difficulties to encounter. But it is the end of every ufeful art, to teach us to furmount difficulties, not to difqualify us for at- tempting them. Men have been known to live ma- ny years in a warm chamber, after they were be- come too delicate to bear the open air ; but who will fay, that fuch a habit of body is defireable ? what phyfician 2 3 o A N E S S A Y Part II. phyfician will recommend to the healthy fuch a regimen as would produce it. But, that I may no longer fuppofe, what I maintain to be impoflible, that mankind in ge- neral, or even one rational being, could, by force of argument, be convinced, that this doctrine is true; what if all men were in oneinftant de- prived of their underftanding by almighty power, and made to believe, that matter has no exift- ence but as an idea in the mind, all other earth- ly things remaining as they are ? Doubtlefs this cataftrophe would, according to our metaphyfi- cians, throw a wonderful light on all the parts of knowledge. I pretend not even to guefs at the number, extent, or quality, of aftoniming difcoveries that would then ftart forth into view. But of this I am certain, that, in lefs than a month after, there could not, without another miracle, be one human creature alive on the face of the earth*. BERKELEY forefaw, and has done what he could to obviate fome of thefe objections. There are two points which he has taken great pains to prove. The firft is, That his fyftem differs not from the belief of the reft of mankind ; the fecond, That our conduct cannot be in the leaft affected by our difbelief of the exiftence of a ma- terial world. i. As * This, I think, muft follow, if we allow that our external fenfes are neceflary to ourprefervation. And I do not fee how that can be denied. A blind or deaf man may live not uncomfortably in the focietyof thofewhofee or hear; but if all mankind were blind and deaf, or deprived of their reafon fo as to difbelieve their eyes and ears, and other percipient faculties, 1 know not how human life could be preferred without a miracle. Ch.II. 2. O N T R U T H. 231 1 . As to the firft, it is certainly falfe. Mr. HUME himfelf feems willing to give it up. I have known many who could not anfwer BERKE- LEY'S arguments; I never knew one who believ- ed his doctrine. I have mentioned it to fome who were unacquainted with philofophy, and therefore could not be fuppofed to have any bias in favour of either fyftem ; they all treated it as moft contemptible jargon, and what no man in his fenfes ever did or could believe. I have carefully attended to the effects produced by it upon my own mind -, and it appears to me at this moment, as when I firft heard it, incre- dible and incomprehenfible : for though, by reading it over and over, I have got a fet of phrafes and arguments by heart, which would enable me, if I werefo difpofed, to talk, and ar- gue, and write, " about it and about it;" yet, when I lay fyftems and fyllogifms afide, when I enter on any part of the bufmefs of life, or when I refer the matter to the unbiafled decifion of my own mind, I plainly fee, that I had no dif- tinct meaning to my words when I faid, that the material world has no exiftence but in the mind that perceives it. In a word, if this author had afTerted, that I and all mankind acknowledge and believe the Arabian Nights Entertain- ment to be a true hiftory, I could not have had any better reafon for contradicting that aflertion, than I have for contradicting this, " That " BERKELEY'S principles in regard to theexift- " ence of matter, differ not from the belief of " the reft of mankind." 2. In behalf of the fecond point he argues, which, howe- ver, the affertors of the non-exiftence of mat- ter have not as yet fully explained. Others may think that I muft have mifunderftood the author j for that he was too acute a logician to leave his fyflem expofed to objections fo de- cifive, and fo obvious. To gratify fuch read- ers, I will not infift on thefe objections. That I may have mifunderftood the author's doc- trine, is not only poiTible, but highly proba- ble ; nay, I have reafon to think, that it was not perfectly underftood even by himfelf. For did nox BERKELEY write his Principles of human Knowledge^ with this exprefs view, (which does him great honour), to baniih icepticifm both from Chap. II. i. O N TRUTH. 135 from fcience and from religion ? Was he not fanguine in the hope of fuccefs ? And has not the event proved, that he was egregioufly mif- taken ? For is it not evident, from the ufe to which other authors have applied it, that his fyftem leads to Atheifm and univerfal fcepti- cifm ? And if a machine difappoint its inventor fo far as to produce effects contraiy to thofe he wifhed, intended, and expected; may we not, without breach of charity, conclude, that he did not perfectly underftand his plan ? At any rate, it appears from this fact, that our author did not forefee all the objections to which his theory is liable. He did not forefee, that it might be made the foundation of a fceptical fyftem : if he had, we know he would have re- nounced it with abhorrence* This one objection, therefore (in which I think I cannot be miftaken), will fully anfwer my prefent purpofe : Our author's doctrine is contrary to common belief, and leads to uni- verfal fcepticifm. Suppofe it, then, univerfally and ferioufty adopted ; fuppofe all men diverted of all belief, and confequently of all prin- ciple : would not the diflblution of fociety, and the deftruction of mankind, neCefiarily enfue ? Still I mall be told that BERKELEY was a good man, and that his principles did him no hurt. I allow it ; he was indeed a moft excellent per- fon ; none can revere his memory more than L But does it appear, that he ever acted according to his principles, or that he thoroughly under- ftoodthem ? Does it appear, that if he had put them in practice, no hurt would have enfued to himfelf, 236 A N E S S A Y Part II himfelf*, or to fociety ? Does it appear, that he was a fceptic, or a friend to fcepticifm ? Does it appear, that men may adopt his principles without danger of becoming fceptics ? The con- trary of all this appears with uncontrovertible evidence. Surely pride was not made for man. The moft exalted genius may find in himfelf many affecting memorials of human frailty, and fuch as often render him an object of companion to thofe who in virtue and underftanding are far inferior, I pity BERKELEY'S weaknefs in pa- tronifing an abfurd and dangerous theory j I doubt not but it may have overcaft many of his days with a gloom, which neither the approba- tion of his confcience, nor the natural ferenity of his temper, could entirely diffipate. And though I were to believe, that he was intoxicat- ed with this theory, and rejoiced in it; yet ftill I fhould pity the intoxication as a weaknefs : for candour will not permit me to give it a harfher name; as I fee in his other writings, and know by the teftimony of his contemporaries, particu- larly * Let it not be pretended, that a man may disbelieve his fenSes without danger of inconvenience. Pyrrho (as we read in Dio- genes Laertius) profeSTed to disbelieve his Senfes, and to be in no appreheniion from any of the objefts that affefted them. The ap- pearance of a precipice or wild beaSt was nothing to Pyrrho; at Icaft he faid fo : he would not avoid them ; he knew they were no- thing at all, or at leaft they were not what they feemed to be. Sup- pofe him to have been in earned; and fuppofe his keepers to have in eavneli: adopted the fame principles : would not their limbs and lives have been in as great danger, as the limbs and life of a blind and deaf man wandering by himfelf in a Solitary place, with his hands tied behind his back ? I would as foon fay, that our fenies are ufelefs faculties, as that we might disbelieve them without dagger of inconvenience. ' Ch. II. 3. ON TRUTH. 237 larly Pope and Swift, that he was a friend to virtue, and to human nature. We muft not fuppofe a falfe doctrine harm- lefs, merely becaufe it has not been able to corrupt the heart of a good man. Nor, becaufe a few fceptics have not authority to render fci- ence contemptible, nor power to overturn foci- ety, muft we fuppofe, that therefore fcepticifm is not dangerous to fcience or mankind. The effects of a general fcepticifm would be dreadful and fatal. We muft therefore, notwithftanding our reverence for the character of BERKELEY, be permitted to affirm, that we have fufficient- ly proved, that his doctrine is fubverfive of man's moft important interefts, as a moral, intelligent, and percipient being. After all, though I were to grant, that the dilbelief of the exiftence of matter could not pro- duce any confiderable change in our principles of action and reafoning, the reader will find in the fequel *, that the point I have chiefly in view would not be much affected even by that conceffion. 1 fay not this, as being diffident or fceptical in regard to what I have advanced on the prefent fubject. Doctrines which I do not believe, I will never recommend to others. I am absolutely certain, that to me the belief of BERKELEY'S fyftem would be attended with the moft fatal confequences ; and that it would be equally dangerous to the reft of mankind, I can- not doubt, fo long as I believe their nature and mine to be the fame. Though * Part 2, chap. 3. *38 A N E S S A Y Part II. Though it be abfurd to attempt a proof of what is felf-evident, it is manly and meritorious to confute the objections that fophiftry may urge againft it. This, with refpecl to the fubjecl: in queftion, has been done, in a decifive andmaf- terly manner, by the learned and fagacious Dr, Reid*; who proves, that the reafonings of BERKELEY, and others, concerning primary and fecondary qualities -f-, owe all their ftrength to the ambiguity of words. I have proved, that, though this .fundamental error had never been detected, the philofophy of BERKELEY is in. its own nature abfurd, becaufe it fuppofes the original principles of common fenfe controvert- ible and fallacious ; a fuppofition repugnant to the genius of true philofophy ; and which leads to univerfal credulity, or univerfal fcepticifm ; and, confequently, to the fubverfion of all know-, ledge and virtue. It is proper, before we proceed to the next inftance, to, make a remark or two on what has been faid. j . Here we have an inftance of a doctrine advanced by fome philofophers, in direct con^ traciiclion * Inquiry into the Human Mind on the Principles of Com- pjon Senfe. f PES CARTES, LOCKE, and BERKELEY, fuppofe, that what we call a body is nothing but a collection of qualities ; and thefe they divide into pri mary and fecondaicy . Of the former kind are magnitude, extenfion, folidity, &c. which LOCKE and the CAR- TESIANS allow to belong to bodies at all times, whether perceived or not. Qf the latter kind are the heat of fire, the yW// and tafte. of a rofe, &c. and thefe, by the fame authors, and by BERKELEY, are faid to exift, not in the bodies themfelves, but only in the mind that perceives them : an error they are led into by fuppofing, {hat the words beat, tafte t fmell, &c. fignify nothing but a percep- tion ; Ch. II. 2. ON TRUTH. 239 tradiction to the general belief of all men in all ages. 2. The reafoning by which it is fupported, though long accounted unanfwerable, did never produce a ferious and fteady conviction. Com- mon fenfe flill declared the doctrine to be falfe ; we were forry to find the powers of human reafon fo limited, as not to afford a logical con- futation of it ; we were convinced it merited confutation, and flattered ourfelves, that one time or other it would be confuted. 3. The real and general belief of this doc- trine would be attended with fatal confequences to fcience, and to human nature ; for this is a doctrine according to which a man could not a6l nor reafon in the common affairs of life, without incurring the charge of infanity or fol- ly, and involving himfelf in diflrefs and perdi- tion. 2. An ingenious man, from a fenfe of the bad tendency of this doctrine, applies himfelf to examine the principles on which it is found- ed ; difcovers them to be erroneous ; and proves, to the full conviction of competent judges, that from beginning to end it is all a myftery of falfehood, arifing from the ufe of ambiguous words, and from the gratuitous admiffion of principles ticn; whereas we have formerly mown, that they alfo fignify an ex- ternal thing. BERKELEY, following the hints which he found in DBS CARTES, MALEBRANCHE and LOCKE, has applied the fame mode of reafoning to prove, that primary, as well as feconda- ry qualities, have no external exiftence; and confequcntly, that body (which confifts of thefe two clafles of qualities, and nothing elfe)exifts only as an idea in the mind that perceives it, and exiits no longer than while it is perceived. 240 A N E S S A Y Part II. principles which never could have been admitted if they had been thoroughly underftood. SECT. III. Of Liberty and Necejpty. 1 HE fecond inftance to which I purpofe to apply the principles of this difcourfe, by fhow- ing the danger of carrying any invefligation beyond the dictates of common fenfe, is no other than the celebrated queftion concerning li- berty and necefRty j a queflion on which many things have been faid, and fome things, I pre- fume, to little purpofe. To enter into all the particulars of this controverfy s is foreign to my prefent defign ; and I would not wifh to add to a difpute already too bulky. My intention is, to treat the doflrine of neceflity as I treated that of the non-exiftence of matter j by en- quiring, whether the one be not, as well as the other, contrary to common fenfe, and therefore abfurd. i . That certain intentions and actions are in themfelves, and previous to all consideration of their confequences, good, laudable, and meri- torious ; and that other actions and intentions are bad, blameable, and worthy of puniihment, has been felt and acknowledged by all reafon- able creatures in all ages and nations. We need not wonder at the universality of this fentiment : it is as natural to the human conftitution, as the Chap. II. 3. O N TRUTH. 241 the faculties of hearing, feeing, and memory ; it is as clear, unequivocal, and affecting, as any intimation from any ienfe external or in- ternal. 2. That we cannot do fome things, but have it in our power to do others, is what no man in his fenfes will hefitate to affirm. I can take up my flaff from the ground, but I cannot lift a flone of a thoufand weight. On a common, I may walk fouthwardor northward, eaftward, or weftward ; but I cannot afcend to the clouds, nor fink downward to the centre of the earth. Juft now I have power to think of an abfent friend, of the Peak of Teneriffe, of a paflage in Homer, or of the death of Charles I. When a man afks me a queftion, I have it in my pow- er to anfwer or be filent, to anfwer foftly or roughly, in terms of refpeft or in terms of con- tempt. Frequent temptations to vice fall in my way ; I may yield, or I may refift : if I re- iift, I applaud myfelf, becaufe I am confcious it was in my power to do otherwife ; if I yield, I am filled with fhame and remorfe, for having neglected to do what I might have done, and ought to have done. My liberty in thefe in- stances I cannot prove by argument ; but there is not a truth in geometry of which I am more certain. Is not this doctrine fufficiently obvious ? Muft I quote Epictetus, or any other ancient author, to prove that men were of the fame opinion in former times ? No idea occurs more frequent- ly in my reading and converfation, than that of power or agency ; and I think I underftand my pwn meaning as well when I fpeak of it as when 242 A N E S S A Y Part II. when I fpeak of any thing elfe. But this idea has had the misfortune to come under the ex- amination of a certain author, who, according to cuftom, has found means fo to darken and disfigure it, that, till we have cleared it of his mifreprefentations, we cannot proceed any fur- ther in the prefent fubjeft. And we are the more inclined to digrefs on this occafion, be- caufe he has made his theory of power the ground of fome Atheiftical inferences, which we fhould not fcruple at any time to ftep out of our way to overturn. Perhaps thefe frequent digreffions are orFenlive to the reader : they are equally fo to the writer. To remove rubbifh is neither an elegant nor a pleafant work, but it is often necefTary. It is peculiarly neceffary in the philofophy of human nature. The road to moral truth has been left in fuch a plight by fome modern projectors, that a man of honef- ty and plain fenfe muft either, with great la- bour and lofs of time, delve his way through, or be fwallowed up in a quagmire. The meta- phyfician advances more eafily. His levity, per- haps, enables him, like Camilla in Virgil, to fkim along the furface without finking ; or per- haps, the extreme fubtlety of his genius can, like Satan in Paradife Loft, penetrate this chaos, without being much incumbered or retarded in his progrefs. But men of ordinary talents have not thofe advantages, and muft therefore be al- lowed to flounce along, though with no very graceful motion, thebeft way they can. All ideas, according to Mr. HUME'S funda- mental hypothefis, are derived from and repre- ient imprelfiqns : But we have never any im- preffiou Ch.II.3- O N T R U T H. 243 preffion that contains any power or efficacy: We never, therefore, have any idea of power *. In proof of the minor proportion of this fyllo- gifm, he remarks, That " when we think we " perceive our mind acting on matter, or one " piece of matter acting upon another, we do " in fact, perceive only two objects or events " contiguous and fucceffive, the fecond of " which is always found in experience to fol- " low the firft; but that we never perceive, ei- " ther by external fenfe, or by confcioufnefs, " that power, energy, or efficacy, which con- " nects the one event with the other. By ob- " ferving that the two events do always accom- " pany each other, the imagination acquires a " habit of going readily from the firft to the " fecond, and from the fecond to the firft; " and hence we are led to conceive a kind of " neceflary connection between them. But in " fact there is neither neceffity nor power in " the objects we confider, but only in the mind " that confiders them ; and even in the mind, " this power of neceffity is nothing but a de- " termination of the fancy, acquired by habit, " to pafs from the idea of an obje6l to that of " its ufual attendant -j-." So that what we call the efficacy of a caufe to produce an effecl, is neither in the caufe nor in the effecl:, but only in the imagination, which has contracted a habit of paffing from the object called the caufe, to the object called the effect, and thus aflbciating them together. Has the fire a pow- er * Treatife of Human Nature, vol. I. p. 282, f Ibid. p. 272. ---300, 2 4 4 A N E S S A Y Part II. er to melt kad ? No ; but the fancy is deter- mined by h:ibit to pafs from the idea of fire to that of inched lead, on account of our having ahvays perceived them contiguous and fuccei- five; and this is the whole matter. Have I a power to move my arm ? No ; the volition that precedes the motion of my arm has no con- nection with that motion ; but the motion hav- ing been always obferved to follow the volition, comes to be aflbciated with it in the fancy; and what we call the power, or necefTary con- nection, has nothing to do, either with the vo- lition, or with the motion, but is merely a de- termination of my fancy, or your fancy, or any body's fancy, to allbciate the idea or impreffion of my volition with the impreffion or idea of the motion of my arm. I am forry I cannot exprels myfelf more clearly ; but I fhould not do juflice to my author, if I did not imitate his language on the prefent occafion: plain words will never do, when one has an unintelligible doctrine to fupport. What fhall we fay to this collection of ftrange phrafes ? or what name fhall we give it ? Shall we call it a mod ingenious difcovery, illuftrat- ed by a moil ingenious argument ? This would be complimenting the author at a very great ex- pence ; for this would imply, not only that he is the wifeft of mortal men, but alfo that he is the only individual of that fpecies of animals who is not a fool. Certain it is, that all men have in all ages talked, and argued, and acted, from a pei fuafion that they had a very diftinct noti- on of power. If our author can prove, that they had no fuch notion, he can alfo prove, that Ch. II. 3. ON TRUTH. 245 that all human difcourfe is nonfenfe, all human actions abfurdity, and all human compofitions (his own not excepted) words without meaning. The boldnefs of his theory will, however, pals with many, for a proof of its being ingenious. Be it fo, Gentlemen, I difpute not about epi- thets ; if you will have it, that genius confifteth in the art of putting words together fo as to form abfurd proportions, I have nothing more to fay. Others will admire this doctrine, be- caufe the words by which the author means to illuflrate and prove it, if printed on a good pa- per and with an elegant type, would of them- felves make a pretty fizeable volume. It were pity to deprive thefe people of the pleafure of admiring ; otherwife I might tell them, that no- thing is more eafy than this method of compo- fition ; for that I would undertake, at a very fhort warning, (if it. could be done innocently, and without prejudice to my health), to write as many pages, with equal appearance of reafon and argument, and with equal advantage to philolbphy and mankind, in vindication of any given abfurdity 5 provided only, that (like the abfurdity in queftion) it were exprefled in words of which one at leaft is ambiguous. In truth, I am fo little difpofed to admire this extraordinary paradox, that nothing could make me believe its author to have been in earneft, if I had not found him drawing infer- ences from it too ferious to be jefled with by any perfon who is not abfolutely diftracted. It is one of Mr. HUME'S maxims, " That we can : o conchifions can be more agreeable to fcepticifm than fuch as make difcoveries concerning the weaknefs and narrow limits of human reafon and capacity." Hume's Effays, vol. 2. p. 87. edit. 1767. I know not w'lat difcoveries this conclufion may lead others to make concerning our author's reafon. and capacity ; but I have fome ground to think, that in him it has not wrought any extra- ordinary felf-abafement ; otherwife he would not have aflerted> with fo much confidence, what he acknowledges to be a mojt vio- liijt paradox, and what is indeed contrary to the experience and con- viflion of. every perfon of common feriie. See Treatife of Human Satyrs, wcl. 1. p. 291. 299. Ch. II. 3. ON T R U T H. 249 doctrine, when I fliow him, that other lefs e- normous abfurdities are implied in it. We may make the trial however. Gentlemen are fome- times pleafed to entertain unaccountable preju- dices againft their Maker; who yet, in other mat- ters, where neither fafhion nor hypothefis inter- fere, condefcend to acknowledge, that the good old diftinclion between truth and falfehood is not altogether without foundation. On the fuppofition that we have no idea of power or energy, and that the preceding theo- ry of caufation is juil, our author gives the fol- lowing definition of a caufe; which feems to be fairly deduced from his theory, and which he fays is the beil that he can give. " A caufe is " an object precedent and contiguous to ano- " ther, and fo united with it, that the idea of " the one determines the mind to form the idea " of the other, and the impreilion of the one to " form a more lively idea of the other*." There are now in my view two contiguous hou- VOL. I. R fes, * Treatife of Human Nature, vol i . p. 298. This is not the only definition of a caule which Mr. HUME has given. But his other definitions are all, in my opinion, inadequate ; being all found- ed on the fame abfurd theory. My bufinefs, however, at prefent is, not to criticile Mr. HUME'S definitions, bur to confute (if I can) his licentious doctrines. Thefe will be allowed to be abfurd, if they be found to lead to abfurd confequences. So Mr. HUM K himfelf, in another place, very juftly determines: " When any " opinion leads into abfurdities, it is certainly falfe." EJfay on Liberty and Necejffity, fart 2. The definition of a caufe, here quoted, is a confequence drawn by Mr. HUME himfelf (and in my opinion fairly drawn) from his theory of power and caufation. By proving that confequence to be abfurd, I prove (according to Mr. HUME 'sown rules of logic) theabfurdityof the opinion that leads tq it. This i? all that I mean by quoting it ; and this I prefume is enough. A uodrineis fufficiently confuted, if it be mown to lead into ent abfurdity. 2 5 s A N E S S A Y Part II. fes, one of which was built laft fummer, and the other two years ago, By feeing them con- ftantly together for feveral months, I find, that the idea of the one determines my mind to form the idea of the other, and the impreflion of the one to form a more lively idea of the other. So that, according to our author's definition, the one houfe is the caufe, and the other the ef- fect ! Again, day and night have always been contiguous and fucceflive; the imagination na- turally runs from the idea or impreffion of the one to the idea of the other : confequently, according to the fame profound theory and definition, either day is the caufe of night, or night the caufe of day, juft as we confider the one or the other to have been originally prior in time ; that is, in other words, light is either the caufe or the effect of darknefs; and its being the one or the other depends entirely on my imagination I Let thofe admire this difcovery who underliand it.- Caufation * implies more than priority and contiguity of the caufe to the effect. This re- lation cannot be conceived at all, without a fnppofitio'n of power or energy in the caufe-f-. Let the reader recollect two things that ftand re- lated as caufe and effect; let him contemplate them with a view to this relation ; then let him conceive the caufe diverted of all power j and he muft at the fame inftant conceive, that it is a caufe no longer : for a caufe diverted of power, is diverted of that by which it is a caufe. If a man, * Caufation denotes the relation of caufe and effetf. f Non iic caufa intelligi debet, ut quod cuique antecedat id eL cauia fit, led quod cuique (jKcientsr antecedat. Cicero De Fdto, cap. 1 5. Ch.IL 3. ON TRUTH. 251 man, after examining his notion of caufation in this manner, is confcious that he has an idea of power, then I fay he has that idea. If ail men, in all ages, have ufed the word power, or fomething fynonimous to it, and if all men know what they mean when they fpeak of pow- er, I maintain, that all men have a notion, con- ception, or idea of power, in whatever way they came by it : and I alfo maintain, that no true philofopher ever denied the exiftence or reality of any thing, merely becaufe he could not give an account of its origin, or becaufe the opinion commonly received concerning its origin did not happen to quadrate with its fyfrem. When, therefore, our author fays, that the efficacy or energy of caufes is not placed in the caufes'themfelves, he fays neither lefs nor more than this, that what is efTential to a caufe is not in a caufe; or, in other words, that a caufe is not a caufe. Are there any perfons who, upon the authority of this theorift, have rafhly adopted Atheiftical principles ? I believe there are fuch. Ye dupes of unmeaning words and incomprehenfible arguments, behold on what a champion ye have placed your confidence ! All the comfort I can give you is, that if it be pof- fible for the fame thing at the fame time to be and not to be, you may poflibly be in the right. It follows from what has been faid, that we cannot admit this theory of power and caufati- on, without admitting, at the fame time, the gToffeft and mod impious abfurdities. Is this a fufficient confutation of it ? I think it is. If R 2 any 252 A N E S S A Y Partll. any perfon think otherwife, I take a fhorter method, and utterly deny all the premifles from which this ft range conclufion is fuppofed to refult. I deny the doctrine of impreflions and ideas, as the author has explained it j nay, I have already affirmed, and proved, it to be not only falfe, but unintelligible. And I main- tain, that though it could 'be mown, that all fimple ideas are derived from impreffions, or in- timations of fenfe, it is true, notwithstanding, that all men have an idea of power. They get it by experience, that is, by intimations of fenfe, both external and internal. Their mind acting upon their body gives them this notion or idea; their, body acting on other bodies, and acted on by other bodies, gives them the fame idea - y which is alfo fuggefted by all the effects and changes they fee produced in the univerfe. So thoroughly are we acquainted with it, that we can, in cafes innumerable, determine, with the utmoft accuracy and certainty, the degree of power neceflary to produce a given effect. I repeat therefore, that fome things are in our power, and others are not ; and that we perfectly underfland our own meaning when we fay fo. That the reader may not lofe any chain in our reafoning, he will pleafe to look back to the fecond and third paragraphs of this fection. 3. By attending to my own internal feelings, and to the evidence given by other men of theirs, I am fenfible, that I deferve reward or punifh- merit for thofe actions only which are in my own power. I am no more accountable for the evil which I can neither prevent nor reme- Ch. II. 3. ON TRUTH. 253 dy, than for the deftruction of Troy, or the plagues of Egypt; and for the good which happens by my means, but againft my will, I no more deierve reward or praife, than if I were a piece of inanimate matter. This is the doctrine of common fenfe ; and this doctrine has in all ages been fupported by fome of the moft powerful principles of our nature ; by principles which, in the common af- fairs of life, no man dares fuppofe to be equivo- cal or fallacious. A man may as well tell me that I am blind, or deaf, or that I feel no heat when I approach the fire, as that I have not a natural fentiment difpofing me to blame inten- tional injury, and to praife intentional benefi- cence ; and which makes me feel and be con- fcious, that the evil I am compelled to do is not criminal, and that the good I perform againft my will is not meritorious. That other men areconfci- ous of the fame fentiment, I know with as much certainty as I can know any thing of what pafTes in the minds of other men j for I have daily and hourly opportunities of making obfervati- ons in regard to this very point. The greateft part of converfation turns upon the morality of human actions j and I never yet heard any perfon ferioufly blamed or applauded, by a rea- fonable creature, for an action in the per- formance of which he was not confidered as a free agent *. The moft rigid Predeftinarians R 3 fuppofe * Si omnia fato fiunt, omnia fiunt caufa antecedente ; et, fi appetitus, ilia etiam quas appetitum fequuntur : ergo, etiam af- fenfiones. At fi caufa appetitus non eft fita in nobis, ne ipfe qui- dem appetitus eft in noftra poteftate. Quod fi ita eft, ne illaqui- dem quas appetitu efficiuntur funt fita In nobis. Non funt igitur, ueque anenfiones neque aftiones, in noftra poteftate : ex quo effici- tur, 254 AN E S SAY Part II. fuppofe freedom of will to be in one way or other confident with eternal and unconditional decrees : if they cannot explain in what way, they call it a myftery j ' it furpailes their imderftanding; but it muft be fo; for other- wife the morality of actions is altogether incon- ceivable -J-. Do' the interefts of Icience, or of virtue, fuffer by this reprefentation of the mat- ter ? I think not. But fome philofophers, not fatisfied with this view of it, are for bringing the fentiment of moral liberty to the tell of reafon. They want to. tur, ut nee laudationesjiiftrtfint, nee /** (fays the fcholiaft), a-uBnemen' u & (^ t r IAOMQV Xor us x otrJs . Sophocles, apud H. Stepb. 1588. /. 48. * Non dabiturregnis (efto) prohibere Latinis, Atque immota manet fatis Lavinia conjux ; At trahere, atque moras tantis licet addere rebus. jEneid. vii. 313. f Nam quia nee fato, merita nee morte peribat, Sed mifera ante diem, fubitoque accenfa furore, Nondum illi flavum Proferpina vertice crinem Abftulerat. jEneid. iv. 696. \ Stat fua cuique dies ; breve et irreparabile tempus Omnibus eft vitae; fed famam extendere faftis, Hoc virtutis opus.- jEneidx. 467. I agree 264 A N E S S A Y Part II. In all the htftories I have read of ancient or modern, favage or civilized nations, I find the conduct of mankind has ever been fuch as I fhould expect from creatures pofTefTed of moral freedom, and confcious of it. Several forms of falfe religion, and fome erroneous commenta- ries on the true, have impofed tenets inconfift- ent with this freedom j but men have ftill afted, notwithstanding, as if they believed them- felves to be free. Creeds, exprelled in general terms may eafily be impofed on the ignorant, and the felfim j by the former they are mif- imderftood, by the latter difregarded: but to overpower a natural inftincl: is a difficult tafk ; and a do6lrine which is eafily fwallowed when propofed in general terms, may prove difguftful when applied to a particular cafe. " The I agree with Servius (not in JEncid.. x.) that the philosophical jnaxims to be found in poets are not always confiftent. The reafon is plain : Poets imitate the fentimer.ts of people of different cha- lifters, placed in different circumftances, and actuated by diffe- rent paflioas; and no body expects, that the language or thoughts fuitable to a certain character, placed in certain circumftances, and aduated by certain paffions, mould be confiftent with thofe of a dif- ferent charafter whofe circumftances and paffions are different. But I cannot agree with that annctator, in fuppoling the pafiage quoted from the fourth book, incontinent with what is quoted from r the loth; and that the former is according to the Epicurean, and the latter according to the Stoical, phiiofophy. In the latter paf- iage, it is faid, that a certain day or time is appointed by fate for the utmoft limit of every man's life : in the former the very fame thing is implied ; only it is faid further, that Dido died before her time; and there is nothing in the tenth book that inftnuates the impofllbility of this. The fentiments contained in thefe three quo- tations are conformable to Homer's theology, and to one another ; and it deferves our notice, that the firft come? from the mouth of Juno, the fecond from the poet or his mufe, and the third ircai Ju- piter himfelf; whence I infer, that they were agreeable to the poet's creed, or at leaft to the popular creed of his age. Ch.II. 3. O N T R U T H. 265 " The belief of a deftiny," fays Mr. Macau- lay in his hiftory of St.Kilda*, " is one of the " nrongeit articles of this people's creed; and l< it will poflibly be found upon examination, * c that the common people in all ages, and in " moft countries, give into the fame notion. " At St. Kilda, fate and providence are much tc the fame thing. After having explained thefe tc terms, I alked fomeof the people there, Whe- but all men do not with full aflurance expect, that a thief will (leal to-morrow, or a rriifer refufe an alms to a beggar, or a debauchee commit an aft of intemperance, even tho' opportunities offer. If I had found, on blowing up my fire this morn- ing, that the flame was cold, and converted water into ice, I fhould have been much more aftonifhed, than if I had detected a man reput- ed honeft in the commiffion of an act of theft. The former I would call a prodigy, a contradic- tion to the known laws of Nature : of the lat- ter I fhould fay, that I am forry for it, and could never have expected it ; but I fhould not fuppofe any prodigy in the cafe. All general rules, that regard the influence of human cha- racters on human actions, admit of exceptions ; but the general laws of matter admit of none. Ice was cold, and fire hot, ever fmce the crea- tion ; hot ice, and cold fire, are, according to rhf prefent conftitution of the world, impofli- tle : but that a man fhould fteal to-day, who never ftole before, is no impoflibility at all. The coldnefs of the flame I fhould doubtlefs think owing to fome caufe, and the difhonefty of the man to fome ftrange revolution in his fentiments and principles j but I never could bring myfelf to think the man as paflive, in re- gard to this revolution, as the fire muft be fup- pofed Ch.II.3- ON TRUTH. 369 pofed to be, in regard to the caufe by which its nature is changed. The man has done what he ought not to have done, what he might have prevented, and what he deferves pu- nimment for not preventing ; this is the language of all rational beings : but the fire is wholly unconfcious and inert. Who will fay that there is the fame .neceffity in both cafes ! Fatalifts are fond of inferring moral necef- fity from phyfical, in the way of analogy. But fome of their arguments on this topic are moft ridiculouily abfurd. " There is," fays Voltaire's Ignorant Pbilofopher, " nothing with- " out 'a caufe. An effect without a caufe, are " words without meaning. Every time I have " a will, this can only be in confequence of my " judgement good or bad ; this judgement is " neceffary ; therefore fo is my will." All this hath been faid by others : but what follows is, I believe, peculiar to this Ignorant Philofopker. " In efFec~V' continues he, " it would be ve- " ry fingular, that all nature, all the planets, " fhould obey eternal laws, and that there " fhould be a little animal, five feet high, who, " in contempt of thefe laws, could act as he " pleafed, folely according to his caprice." Singular ! aye, fingular indeed. So very fingu- lar, that yours, Sir, if I miftake not, is the firft human brain that ever conceived fnch a notion. If man be free, no body ever dreamed that he made himfelf fo, in contempt of the laws of Nature ; it is in confequence of a law of Nature that he is a free agent. But paf- S 2 ling 270 A N E S S A Y Part II, fmg this, let us attend to the reafoning. The planets are not free agents ; therefore it would be very fingular, that man mould be one. Not a whit more fmgular, than that this fame animal of five feet mould perceive, and think, and read, and write, and fpeak; attributes which no aftronomer has ever fuppofed to belong to the planets, notwithstanding their brilliant appearance, and flupendous magnitude *. We do too much honour to fuch reafoning, when we reply to it in the bold, but fublime words of the poet : Know'ft thou th' importance of a foul immortal ? Behold this midnight glory, worlds on worlds ! Amazing pomp ! redouble this amaze ; Ten thoufand add ; and twice ten thoufand more ; Then weigh the whole; ONE SOUL outweighs them all, And calls the aftonilhing magnificence Of unintelligent creation poor. Complaint, Night 7. Or in the fimpler language of another great genius : "If we confider the dignity of an in- " telligent * Mr. Voltaire has often laboured, with more zeal than fuccefs, t p prove, among other ftrange doftrines, that Shakefpeare and Milton were no great poets. What if I mould here help him to. an argument as decifive on that point as any he has yet invented, and framed exaftly according to the rules of his own logic, as exemplified in the paflage now before us ? " The Englim fay, that Shakefpeare and Milton were great poets. Now it is well known, that neither Plinlimmon in Wales, nor Meal- fourvouny in Scotland, neither Lebanon in Syria, nor Atlas in Mauritania, ever wrote one good verfe in their days ; and yet each of thefe mountains exceeds in corporeal magnitude ten thoufand Miltons, and as many Shakefpeares. But it would be very fingular, that maffes of fo great diftinftion mould ne- ver have been able to put pen to paper with any fuccefs, and yet that no fewer than two pieces of Englifh flelh and blood, fcarce fix feet long, mould, in contempt of Nature end all her laws, have penned poems that are irititled to general ^mirati- on" Ch. II. 3. O N T R U T H. 271 ec telligent being, and put that in the fcale < againft brute and inanimate matter, we may e- tween rejecting it as utterly falfc, and receiv- ing it as undeniably true, there is no medium to a confiderate perfon. And let it be obferved further, S 7 8 A N E S S A Y Paft II. further, that the changes which the real belief of fatality mufl produce in the conduct and fenti- ments of men, are not flight and imperceptible, but, as will appear afterwards, important and ftriking. If you fay that the inftincts of your nature, the cufloms of the world, and the force of human laws, oblige you to act like free agents, you acknowledge fatality to be contra- ry to common fenfe j which is the point I want to prove. Clay is not more obfequious to the potter, than words to the fkilful difputant. They may be made to aflume almoft any form, to enforce almoftany doctrine. So true it is, that much may be faid on either fide of moft queftions, that we have known dealers in controverfy, who were always of the fame mind with the author whom they read laft. We have feen theories of morality deduced from pride, from fympathy, from felf-love, from benevolence; and all fo plaufible, as would furprife one who is unac- quainted with the ambiguities of language. Of thefe the advocates for fimple truth are lefs care- ful to avail themfelves, than their paradoxical antagonifts. The arguments of the former, he- ing more obvious, (land lefs in need of illuftra- tion ; thofe of the latter require all the embel- lifhments of eloquence and refinement to re- commend them. Robbers feldom go abroad without arms; they examine every corner and countenance with a penetrating eye, which ha- bitual diftruft and circumfpection have render- ^ed intenfely fagacious : the honeft man walks careleffly about his bufmefs, intending no harm, and fufpecting none. It cannot be dehied, that philofophers Ch.II. 3- O N T R U T H. 279 philofophers do often in the ufe of words, im- pofe on themfelves as well as on others ; an am- biguous word flipping in by accident will often perplex a whole fubject, to the equal furprife of both parties ; and perhaps, in a long courfe of years, the caufe of this perplexity ihall not be difcovered. This was never more remarkably the cafe, than in the controverfy about the ex- iftence of matter; and this no doubt is one great hinderance to the utter confutation of the doc- trine of neceffity. Fatalifts, indeed, make a ftir, and feein much in earneft, about fettling the fignincation of words : but " words beget words," as Bacon well obferveth ; and it cannot be ex- peeled, that they who are interefted in fupport- ing a fyftem will be fcrupuloufly impartial in their definitions. With a few of thefe a theorift commonly be- gins his fyftem. This has the appearance of fairnefs and perfpicuity. We hold it for a max- im, that a man may ufe words in any fenfe he pleafes, provided he explain the fenfe in which he ufes them ; and we think it captious to find fault with words. We therefore are eafily pre- vailed on to admit his definitions, which are ge- nerally plaufible, and not apparently repugnant to the analog}'' of language. But the under - ftanding of the author when he writes, and that of the ftudent when he reads them, are in very different circumftances. The former knows his fyftem already, and adapts -his definitions to it : the latter is ignorant of the fyftem, and therefore can have no notion of the tendency of the definitions. Befides, every fyftem is in fome degree obfcure to one who is but beginning to ftudy A N E S S A Y Part If. ftudy it; and this obfcurity ferves to difguife whatever in the preliminary illuftrations is forced or inexplicit. Thus the mind of the moft can- did and moft attentive reader is prepared for the reception of error, long before he has any fufpi- cion of the author's real defign. And then, the more he is accuftomed to ufe words in a certain fignification, the more he is difpofed to think it natural ; fo that, the further he advances in the fyftem, he is ftill more and more reconciled to it. Need we wonder then at the variety of mo- ral fyftems? need we wonder to fee a man's judgement fo eafily, and often fo egregiouily, milled, by abftract reafoning? need we wonder at the fuccefs of any theorift, who has a tolera- ble command of language, and a moderate fliare of cunning, provided his fyftem be adapted to the manners and principles of his age ? Neither need we wonder to fee the grofTeft and moft de- teftable abfurdities recommended by iingular plaufibility of argument, and fuch as may for a time impofe even on the intelligent and fagaci- ous; till at laft, when the author's defign be- comes manifeft, common fenfe begins to operate, and men have recourfe on their inftinctive and intuitive fentiments, as the moft effectual fecuri- ty againft the afiaults of the logician. Further, previous to all influence from habit and education, the intellectual abilities of dif- ferent men are veiy different in refpect of rea- foning, as well as of common fenfe. Some men, fagacious enough in perceiving truth, are but ill qualified to reafon about it; while others, not fuperior in common fenfe, or intuitive faga- city, are much more dextrous in devifmg and confuting Ch.II.j. Q N T R U T H. 281 confuting arguments. If you propofe a fophifm to the latter, you are at once contradicted and confuted : the former, though they cannot con- fute you, are perhaps equally fenfible of your falfe doctrine, and unfair reafoning ; they know, that what you fay is not true, though they can- not tell in what refpect it is falfe. Perhaps all that is wanting to enable them to confute as well as contradict, is only a little practice in fpeak- ing and wrangling : but furely this affects not the truth or falfehood of proportions. What is falfe is as really fo to the perfon who perceives its falfity, without being able to prove it, as to him who both perceives and proves; and it is equally falfe, before I learn logic, and af- ter. Is it not therefore highly unreafonable to expect conviction from every antagonift who cannot confute you, and to afcribe to prejudice what is owing to the irrefiftible impulfe of un- erring nature ? I have converfed with many people of fenfe on the fubject of this controverfy concerning liber- ty and neceflity. To the greater part, the ar- guments of Clarke and others, in vindication of liberty, feemed quite fatisfying; others owned themfelves puzzled with the fubtleties of thofs who took the oppofite fide of the queftion ; fome repofed with full afTurance on that confciouf- nefs of liberty which every man feels in his own breaft ; in a word, as far as my experience goes, I have found the greater part of mankind, ene- mies to fatality in their hearts ; willing to con- fider the arguments for it as rather fpecious than folid; and difpofed to receive, with joy and thankfulnefs, a thorough vindication of human VOL. I. T liberty, i8i A N E S S A Y Part II. liberty, and a logical confutation of the oppofite doctrine. 3. It has been faid, That philofophers are anfwerable, not for the confequences, but only for the truth, of their tenets ; and that, if a doctrine be true, its being attended with difa- greeable confequences will not render it falfe. We readily acquiefce in this remark ; but we imagine it cannot be meant of any truth but what is certain and incontrovertible. No ge- nuine truth did ever of itfelf produce effects in- confntent with real utility*. But many princi- ples pafs for truth, which are far from deferring that honourable appellation. Some give it to all doctrines which have been defended with fub- tlety, and which, whether ferioufly believed or not, have never been logically confuted. But to affirm, that all fuch doctrines are certainly true, would argue great ignorance of human lan- guage, and human nature. It is therefore ab- lurd to fay, that the bad confequences of ad- mitting fuch doctrines ought not to be urged as arguments againft them. - Now, there are many perfons in the world, of moft refpectable understanding, who would be extremely averfe to acknowledge, that the doctrine of neceffity has ever been demonftrated beyond all doubt. I may therefore be permitted to confider it as a contro- vertible tenet, and to expofe the abfurdities and dangerous confequences with which the general belief of it may be attended. Mr. HUME endeavours to raife a prejudice a- gainll tlnStiuv ifi ; 3W Marc. Antonin. Ch.II. 3. O N T R U T H. 283 gainft this method of refutation. He probably forefaw, that the tendency of his principles would be urged as an argument againft them ; and being fomewhat apprehenfive of the con- fequences, as well he might, he inlinuates, that all fuch reafoning is no better than perfonal in- vective. " There is no method of reafoning," fays he, " more common, and yet none more " blameable, than in philofophical debates to for many millions of this per- fuafion have parTed through life with a fair cha- rafter ; but from other caufes. I cannot con- ceive any greater difcouragement from knavery and folly, than the confideration, that man is an accountable being ; and I know not how we can fuppofe him accountable, in the common acceptation of that word, unlefs we fuppofe him free. The reader, if difpofed to purfue thefe hints,, and attend, in imagination, to the behaviour of the confident and practical Fatalift, in the more interefting fcenes of private and public life, may entertain himfelf with a feries of veiy ftrange and comical adventures. I prefume I have faid enough to fhow, that it is not without reafon I affirm, " That the real and general " belief * This, it may be faid, would fuppofe a partial neceflity. It may be fo : but in this manner 1 apprehend that mankind will al- ways argue, as long as they are confcious of a power of felf-dcter- mination. And while they are confcious of that power, and argue in this manner, they muit confider the doftrine of neceflity as re- pugnant to our molt familiar and moll permanent notions in regard to morality and human agency. 294 A N E S S A Y fcut if, tc belief of neceffity would be attended with fa- " tal confequences to fcience, and to human free agent. It would lead us too far from our prefent purpofe, to enter upon a logical examination of the argument for neceffity. Our defign is only to explain, by what marks one may diftinguifli the principles of common fenfe, that is, intui- tive * See the end of the preceding fe&ion. Ch.II. j. O N T R U T H. 295 tive or felf-evident notions, from thofe deceitful and inveterate opinions that have fometimes af- fumed the fame appearance. If I have fatisfied the reader, that the free agency of men is a felf- evident fact, I have alfo fatisfied him, that all reafoning on the fide of neceility, though ac- counted unanfwerable, is, in its very nature, and previoufly to all confutation, abfurd and irrati- onal, and contrary to the practice and principles of true philofophy. Let not the friends of liberty be difcouraged by the perplexing arguments of the Fatalift*. Arguments in oppofition to felf-evident truth, mutt, if plaufible, be perplexing. Think what method of argumentation a man muft purfue, who fets himfelf to confute any axiom in geome- try, or to argue againft the exiftence of a fenti- ment, acknowledged and felt by all mankind. Indeed I cannot fee how fuch a perfon fhould ever impofe upon people of fenfe, except by availing himfelf of expreffions, which either are in themfelves ambiguous, or become fo by his manner of applying them. If the ambiguity be difcernible, the argument can have no force; if there be no fufpicion of ambiguity, the difpute may * There is no fubjeft on which doubts and difficulties may not be ftarted by ingenious and difputatious men : and therefore, from the number of their objections, and the length of the controverfy to which they give occafion, we cannot, in any cafe, conclude, that the original evidence is weak, or even that it is not obvious and ftriking. Were we to prefume, that every principle is dubious againit which fpecious objections roay be contrived, we mould be quickly led into univerfal fcepticifm. The two ways in which the ingenuity of fpeculativc men has been molt commonly employed, are dogmatical afTertions of doubtful opinions, and fubtle cavils againft certain truths. Gerard's DiJTertaiioas, ii, 4. 296 A N E S S A Y Fart II. may be continued from generation to generati- on, without working any change in the fenti- ments of either party. When fact is difregard- ed, when intuition goes for nothing, when no flandard of truth is acknowledged, and every un- anfwered argument is deemed unanfwerable, true reafbning is at an end ; and the difputant, having long ago loft fight of common fenfe, is fo far from regaining the path of truth, that like Thomfon's peafant bewildered in the fnow, he continues " to wander on, ftill more and more " aftray." If any perfon will give himfelf the trouble to examine the whole controverfy con- cerning liberty and neceflity, he will find, that the arguments on both fides come at laft to ap- pear unanfwerable : there is no common prin- ciple acknowledged by both parties, to which an appeal can be made, and each party charges the other with begging the queftion. Is it not then better to reft fatisfied with the fimple feel- ing of the underftanding ? I feel that it is in my power to will or not to will : all you can fay about the influence of motives will never convince me of the contrary ; or if I ihould fay, that I am convinced by your arguments, my conduct muft continually belie my profeffion. One thing is undeniable : your words are ob- fcure, my feeling is not j this is univerfally at- tended to, acknowledged, and acted upon; thofe to. the majority of mankind would be unintelli- gible, nay, perhaps they are in a great meafure fo even to yourfelves*. CHAP. * " It is evident (fays a great philofopher) that as it is from in- " ternal confcioufnefs I know any thing of liberty, fo no aflertion ' contrary Ch. III. O N T R U T H. 297 CHAP. III. Recapitulation, and Inference* 1 H E fubftance of the preceding illuftrations, when applied to the principal purpofe of this difcourfe, is as follows. Although it be certain, that all juft reafoning does ultimately terminate in the principles of common fenfe; that is, in principles which mud be admitted as certain, or as probable, upon their own authority, without evidence, or at leaft without proof; even as all mathematical reafon- ing does ultimately terminate in felf-evident axioms: yet philofophers, efpecially thofe who have applied themfelves to the inveftigation of the laws of human nature, have not always been careful to confine the reafoning faculty within its proper fphere, but have vainly imagined, VOL. I. U that " contrary to what I am confcious of concerning it can be ad- " mitted: and it were better perhaps to treat of this aWlrufe fub- " jecl after the manner of Experimental philofophy, than to fill " a thoufand pages with metaphyfical difcullions concerning it." Maclaurin's account of Newton's difco-veries , took I. chap. 4. " The conftitution of the prefent world, (fays Bifhop Butler), " and the condition in which we are actually placed, is as if we " were free. And it may perhaps be juftly concluded, that fince " the whole procefs of a&ion through every ftep of it is as if we " were free, therefore we are lo." Analogy, part I. chap. 6. 6. One whojs a Fatalilt, and one who keeps to his natural ftnfe of things, and believes himfelf a free agent, thefe two are con- uuited by the fame excellent author, p^rt i. ch. 6. 3. i 9 3 A N E S S A Y Part II. that even the principles of common fenfe are fubject to the cognifance of reafon, and may be either confirmed or confuted by argument. They have accordingly, in many inftances, car- ried their investigations higher than the ulti- mate and felf-fupported principles of common fenfe; and by fo doing, have introduced many errors, and much falfe reafoning, into the moral fciences. To remedy this, it was propofed, as a matter deferving ferious attention, to afcertain the feparate provinces of reafon and common fenfe. And becaufe, in many cafes, it may be difficult to diftinguifh a principle of common fenfe from an acquired prejudice; and confe- quently, to know at what point reafoning ought to flop, and the authority of common fenfe to be admitted as decifive; it was therefore judged expedient to inquire, " Whether fuch reafon- " ings as have been profecuted beyond ultimate " principles, be not marked with fome peculiar " characters, by which they may be diftinguifh- , " does he lie, or does he not ? If he lies, he X 2 " fpeaks jl6 A N E S S A Y Part III. cc fpeaks truth : if he fpeaks truth, he lies." Many were the books that their philofophers wrote, in order to folve this wonderful pro- blem. Chryirppus favoured the world with no fewer than fix : and Philetas ftudied himfelf to death in his attempts to folve it. Epictetus, whofe good fenfe often triumphs over the extra- vagance of Stoicifm> juftly ridicules this logical phrenzy*. Socrates made little account of the fubtleties of logic ; being more folicitous to inftrucl: others, than to diftinguifh himfelf -j-. He in- ferred his doctrine from the conceffions of thofe with whom he converfed ; fo that he left no room for difpute, as the adverfary could not contradict him, without contradicting him- felf. And yet, to Socrates philofophy is per- haps more indebted, than to any other perfon whatever J. We * Arrian, lib. 2. cap, 17. Cicero Lucufl. cap. 30. f Supra, part 2. chap. 2. feft. i. J Cicero in one place (de Finib. lib. 2.) calls him Parens Phi- lofophiee, and in another (de Orat. lib. 3.) affirms, that, in the judgement of all Greece, and according to the teftimonyof all the learned, Socrates, on every fubjecl: to whkh he applied himfelf, excelled all men, in wifdom, politenefs, and penetration, as well as in copioufnefs and variety of eloquence ; and that fucceeding philofophers, though they differed widely in their principles, were however ambitious to be thought to belong to the Socratic fchooj, and willing to believe that they derived their doctrines from that great feminary of knowledge. Socrates was the firft Grecian phi- lofopher who made experience the ground-work of all his reafon- ings, who applied philofophy to the regulation of human tonduft, and who taught, that thofe theories only were valuable, which could be applied to practical and ufeful purpofes. The more we confider the ftate of learning at the time of his appearance, and the pride and iniignificancy of thofe fophifts, whom Greece then re- garded as the oracles of wifdom, and to whofe chai clier and pro- fefiion Ch.I. ON TRUTH. 317 We have therefore no reafon to think, that truth is difcoverable by thofe means only which the technical logic prefcribes. Ariftotle knew the theory both or fophifms and fyllogifms, better than any other man j yet Ariftotle him- felf is fometimes impofed on by fophifms of his own invention *. And it is remarkable, that his moral, rhetorical, and political writings, in which his own excellent judgement is little warped by logical fubtleties, are far the moft ufeful, and, in point of found reafoning, the moft unexceptionable, part of his philofo- phy. The apparent tendency of the fchool-logic is, to render men difputatious and fceptical, adepts in the knowledge of words, but inattentive to facl and experience. It makes them fonder of fpeaking than thinking, and therefore ftrangers to themfelves; felicitous chiefly about rules, names and diftinclions, and therefore leaves them neither leifure nor inclination for the ftu- dy of life and manners. In a word, it makes them more ambitious to diftinguifh themfelves X 3 as feflion his conduct as a public teacher formed fo ftriking a contrail* the more we ihall be fenfible of our obligations to this great ^nd excellent man, who was faid to have brought philofophy down from heaven ; and who may truly be faid to have turn'd the rea/onfag art From words to things, from fancy to the heart. * Thus he is faid to have proved the earth to be the centre of the pniverfe by the following fophifm. " Heavy bodies naturally " tend to the centre of the univerfe ; we know by experience, is applied to all difquifitions concerning things Ch.II. ON T R U T H. 331 things immaterial. In this fenfe the plaineft account of the faculties of the mindj and of the principles of morality and natural religion, would be termed metaphyjics. Such metaphyiics, however, we are fo far from deipiiing or cenfur- ing, that we account it the fublimeft and mofl ufeful part of fcience. Thofe arguments alfo and illuflrations in the abftract philofophy, which are not obvious to ordinary understandings, are fometimes called metaphyftcal. But as the principles of this phi- lofophy, however well exprefled, appear fome- what abftrufe to one who is but a novice in the ftudy; and as very plain principles may feem in- tricate in an author who is inattentive to his expreflion, as the bed authors fometimes are, it would be unfair to reject, or conceive a pre- judice againft, every moral doctrine that is not perfectly free from obfcurity. Yet a con- tinued obfcurity, in matters whereof every man fhould be a competent judge, cannot fail to breed a fufpicion, either that the doer trine is faulty, or that the writer is not equal to his fubject. The term metaphyfical, in thofe paflages of this book, where it is expreffive of ceniure, will be found to allude to that mode of abftract in- veftigation, fo common among the fceptics and the fchoolmen, which is fupported, either whol- ly by an ambiguous and indefinite phrafeology, or by that in conjunction with a partial experi- ence; and which feldom fails to lead to fuch conclufions as contradict matter of fact, or truths of indifputable authority. It is this mode of investigation that has introduced fo many er- Y 2 rors jji AN ESSAY Part III, rors into the moral fciences j for few, even of our moil candid moral philofophers, are entire- ly free from it. The love of fyftem, or partia- lity to a favourite opinion, not only puts a man off his guard ; fo as to make him overlook in- accurate expreffions, and indefinite notions, but may fometimes occafion even a miftake of fact, When fuch miftakes are frequent, and affecl the moft important truths, we muft blame the au- thor for want of candour, or want of capacity r when they are innocent, and recur but lel- dom, we ought to afcribe them to the imperfec- tion of human nature. Instances of this nietaphyfie are fo common,, that we might almoft fill a volume with a lift of them, Spinofa's pretended demonftration of the exiftence of the one great being,, by which, however,, he meant only the univerfe, is a me- taphyfical argument, founded in a feries of falfe or unintelligible, though plaunble, defini- tions** BERKELEY'S proof of the^ non-exift- nce of matter is wholly metaphyfical; and arifes chiefly from the miftake of fuppofing cer- tain words to have but one meaning, which really have two, and fometimes three. LOCKE'S difcourfe againft innate ideas and principles, is- like wife too metaphyfical. Some of his noti- ons on that fubjecl are, I believe, right; but he has not explained them with his wonted pre- ci(ion> and moft of his arguments are founded on an ambiguous acceptation of the words idea and innate. The * See the Appendix to vl. i . o Chev, R.amfay'& Principles of Religion. Ch.II. O N T R U T H. 333 The author of the Fable of the Bees feems to have carried this mode of reafoning as far as it will go. If there had been no ambiguous words in the Engliflj language, the underftanding of mankind would never have been affronted with his fyftem. Many of our appetites become cri- minal only when exceffive; and we have not al- ways names to exprefs that degree of indul- gence which is confident with virtue. The fhamelefs word-catcher takes advantage of this, and confounds the innocent gratification with the excel!! ve or criminal indulgence -, calling both by the fame name, and taking it for granted, that what he proves to be the true of the one is alfo true of the other,. What is it that may not be proved by this way of arguing ? May not vice be proved to be virtue, and virtue to be vice ? May not a regard to reputation ? cleanli- nefs, induftry, generofity, conjugal love,, be proved to be the fame with vanity, luxury, ava- rice, profufion, fenfuality ? May it not be pro- ved, that private virtues are private vices -, and, confequently, that private vices are public be- nefits ? Such a conclufion is indeed fb eafily made out by fuch logic, that nothing but igno- rance, impudence and a hard heart, is neceflar ry to qualify a man for making it. If it be faid, that confiderable genius muft be employed in dreffing up thefe abfurd doftrines, fo as to ren- der them plaufible; I would afk, who are the perfons who think them plaufible ? Never did I hear of one man of virtue or learning, who did not both deteft and defpife them. They feem plaufible enough to gamblers^ high- waymen, and petit maitres ; but it will not Y 3 be 534 A N E S S A Y Part II, be pretended, that thofe gentlemen have lei- fure, inclination, or capacity, to reflect on what they read or hear fo as to feparate truth from falfehood. Among metaphyfical writers, Mr. HUME holds a diftinguifhed place. Every part of phi- iofophy becomes metaphyfic in his hands. His whole theory of the underftanding is founded on the doctrine of impreflions and ideas, which, as he explains it, is fo contrary to fact, that no- thing but the illuiion of words could make it pafs upon any reader. I have already given fe- veral inftances of this author's metaphyfical fpirit. I fhall give one more ; which I beg leave to confider at fome length ; that I may have an opportunity of confuting a very dange- rous error, and, at the fame time, of difplaying more minutely, than by this general defcription, the difference between metaphyfical and philofo- phical inveftigatiori, Does any one imagine, that moral and intel- lectual virtues, that juftice and genius, are vir- tues of the fame kind; that they are contem- plated with the fame fentiments, and known to be virtues by the fame criterion ? Few, I pre- fume, are of this opinion; Mr HUME has adopted it, and taken pains to prove it. I ihall demonflrate, that this very important error has arifen, either from inaccurate obfervation, or from his being impofed on by words not well vmderftood, or rather from both caufes. It is true, that juflice, great genius, andbp-,. dily ftrength, are all ufeful to the poffeflbr and to fociety ; and all agreeable to, or (which in this author's ftyle amounts to the fame things approved Ch.II. O N T R U T H. 335 approved by, eveiy one who confiders or con- templates them. They therefore, at leaft the two firft, completely anfwer our author's defini- tion of virtue *. And it would be eafy to write a great book, to (how the reafons why moral, intellectual, and corporeal abilities, yield plea- fure to the beholder and poflelfor, and to trace out a number of analogies, real or verbal, fub- fifting between them. But this is nothing to the purpofe : they may refemble in ten thou- fand refpects, and yet differ as widely, as a beaft or ftatue differs from a man. Let us trace the author's argument to its fource. Virtue is known by a certain agreeable feel- ing or fentiment, arifmg from the confcioufnefs of certain affections or qualities in ourfelves, or from the view of them in others. Granted. Juftice, humanity, generofity, excite approba- tion ; a handfome face excites approbation ; great genius excites approbation : the effect or fentiment produced is the fame in each inftance : the object, or .caufe, muft therefore, in each in- ftance, be of the fame kind. This is genuine metaphyfic : but before a man can be mifled by it, he muft either find, on confulting his expe- rience, that the feeling excited by the contem- plation of thefe objects is the fame in each in- itance ; in which cafe I would fay, that his feel- ings * It is the nature, and indeed the definition, of virtue, " that *' it is a quality of the mind agreeable to, or approved by, every " one who confiders or contemplates it." Hume's Effays, vol. 2. p. 333. edit. 1767. Note. Bodily qualities are excluded by this definition, but feem to be admitted by our author in fome of his reafonings on the fubjeft, as indeed upon his principles they very well may. A N E S S A Y Part III, ings are defective, or himfelf an inaccurate ob- ferver of nature : or he muft fuppofe, that the word approbation^ becaufe written and pro- nounced the fame way, does really mean the fame thing in each of the three proportions above mentioned ; in which cafe, I would fay, that his judgement and ideas are confounded by the mere found and fhape of a word. I am confcious, that my approbation of a fine face is different in kind from my approbation of great genius ; and that both are extremely different from my approbation of juftice, humanity, and generality : if I call thefe three different kinds of approbation by the fame general name, I ufe that name in 'three different fignifications. Therefore moral, intellectual, and corporeal virtues, are not of the fame, but of different; kinds. I confefs, fays our author, that thefe three virtues are contemplated with three different kinds of approbation. But the fame thing is true of different moral virtues : piety excites one kind of approbation, jufrice another, and companion a third j the virtues of Cato excite our efteem, thofc of Cedar our love : if there- fore piety, juilice, and companion, be virtues of the fame kind, notwithstanding that they excite different kinds of approbation, why would juftice, genius, and beauty, be account^ ed virtues of different kinds * ? This is ano- ther metaphycal argument j an attempt to de- termine by words what facts only can deter- mine, I iliil infiil qn fact and experience. My * Treatife of Human Nature, vol. 3. p. 258. Ch. II. O N T R U T H. 337 My fentiments, in regard to thefe virtues, are fo diverfified, and in each variety fo peculiar, that I know, and am all'ured, that piety, juf- tice, and humanity, are diftinc"l individual vir- tues of the fame kind ; and that piety, genius, and beauty, are virtues of different kinds. Ap- plied to each of the former qualities, the word virtue means the fame thing ; but beauty is virtue in one fenfe, genius in another, and pi- ety in a third. Well, if the fentiments excited in you by the contemplation of thefe virtues, are fo much diverfified, and in each variety fo peculiar, you muft be able to explain in what refpecl your approbation of intellectual virtue differs from your approbation of moral ; which I prefume you will find noeafy taik. It is not fo difficult, Sir, as you feem to apprehend. When a man has acted generoufly or juftly, I praife him, and think him worthy of praife and reward, for having done his duty; when ungsneroufly or unjuftly, I blame him, and think him wor- thy of blame and puniihment : but a man de- lerves neither punifhment nor blame for want of beauty or of underftanding ; nor reward nor praife for being handfome or ingenious. But why are we thought worthy of blame and pu- nifhment for being unjuft, and not for being homely, or void of underftanding ? The gene- ral confcience of mankind would reply, Be^ caufe we have it in our power to be juft, and ought to be fo; but an idiot cannot help his want of underftanding, nor an ugly man his want of beauty. This our author will not al- low to be a fatisfa&ory nnfwer ; becaufe, fays he. 338 A N E S S A Y Pan III, he, I have Ihown, that free-will has no place with regard to the actions, no more than the qualities of men *. What an immenfe meta- phyfical labyrinth fhould we have to run through if we were to difintangle ourfelves out of this ar- gument in the common courfe of logic ! To ihorten the controverfy, I muft beg leave to af- firm, in my turn, that our moral actions are in our own power, though beauty and genius are not; and to appeal, for proof of this affirmati- on, to the fecond part of this Effay, or, rather, to die common fenfe of mankind. Again, " Moral diftinctions," fays Mr. HUME. " arife from the natural diftmctions of " pain and pleafure ; and when we receive thofe " feelings from the general confideration of " any quality or character, we denominate it " virtuous or vitious. Now I believe no one " will aflert, that a quality can never produce " pleafure or pain to the perfon who con- " fiders it, unlefs it be perfectly volunta- tl ij in the perfon who poflerTes it -f^.' 1 More metaphyfic ! and a fophifm too a petitio principii ! Here our author endea- vours to confound intellectual with moral vir- tue, by an argument which fuppofeth his own theory of virtue to be true 3 of which theory this confufion of the virtues is a necefiary con- fequence. The reader muft fee, that this argu- ment, if it prove any thing at all, might be made to prove, that the fmell or beauty of a role, the tafte of an apple, the hardnefs of fteel, and the glittering of a diamond, as well as bo- {lily , * Treati/e of Humap Nature, vol. 3. p. 260. J- Jbiii. Ch. II. O N T R U T H. 339 dily ftrength and great genius, are all virtue of the fame kind with juftice, generofity, and gratitude. Still we wander from the point. How often muft it be repeated, that this mat- ter is to be determined, not by metaphyfical ar- guments founded on ambiguous words, but by facts and experience ! " Have I not appealed to fads ? he will fay. " Are not all the qualities that conflitute the " great man, conftancy, fortitude, magnani- " mity, as involuntary and neceflary, as the " qualities of the judgement and imaginati- " on ?*" The term great man is fo very equi- vocal, that I will have nothing to do with it. The vilefl fcoundrel on earth, immediately commences great man, when he ha* with im- punity perpetrated any extraordinary act of wickednefs ; murthered fifty thoufand men ; robbed all the houfes of half a dozen provinces; or dexteroufly plundered his own country, to defray the expence of a ruinous war, contrived on purpofe to fatiate his avarice, or divert the public attention from his blunders and villai- nies. I fpeak of the qualities that conftitute the food man, that is, of moral qualities; and thefe, affirm, to be within every man's reach, though genius and beauty are not. " But are not men afraid of pafling for good- " natured, left that fhould be taken for want of " underftanding ? and do they not often " boaft of more debauches than they have '< been really engaged in, to give themfelves fc airs of fire and fpirit?-)-" Yes : fools do the firft, * Treatife of Human Natnre, vol. 3. p. 259 f Jbid. p. 257. 340 A N E S S A Y Part III. firfr, to recommend themfelves to fools ; and profligates the laft, to recommend themfelves to profligates : but he is little acquainted with the human heart, who does not perceive, that fuch fentiments are affec~led, and contrary to the way of thinking that is mofl natural to mankind, " But are you not as jealous of yourcharac- " ter, with regard to fenfe and knowledge, as " to honour and courage ?" * This queftioa ought to be addrefled to thofe in whom courage is a virtue, and the want of it a vice : and I am certain, that there is not in his Majefty's iervice one officer or private man, who would not wifh to be thought rather a valiant foU dier, though of no deep reach, than a very cle- ver fellow, with the addition of an infamous coward The term honour is of dubious im-, port. According to the notions of thefe times, a man may blafpheme God, fell his country, murder his friend, pick the pocket of his feK Jow-iharper, and employ his whole life in re- ducing others to vice and perdition, and yet be accounted a man of honour; provided he be accuflomed to fpeak certain words, wear cer- tain cloaths, and haunt certain company. If this be the honour alluded to by the author, an honeft man may, for a flender confiderati- on, renounce all pretenfions to it. But if he aU hide (as I rather fuppofe) to thofe qualities of the heart and under Aanding which intitle, one to general efleem and confidence, Mr. HUME knows, '* Jreatife of Human Nature, vol, 3. p, 257, Ch. II. O N T R U T H. 341 knows, that this kind of honour is dearer to a man than life. " Well, then, temperance is a virtue in " every ftation ; yet would you not chufe to " be convicted of drunkennefs rather than of " ignorance ?*" I have heard of a witty par- fon, who, having been difmiffed for irregulari- ties, ufed afterwards, in converfation, to fay, that he thanked God he was not cafhiered for ignorance and infufficiency, but only for vice and immor ality. According to our author's doctrine, this fpeech was neither abfurd nor profane : but I am Cure the generality of man- kind would be of a different opinion. To be ignorant of what we ought to know, is to be deficient in moral virtue; to profefs to know what we are ignorant of, is fallehood, a breach of moral virtue: whether thefe vices be more or lefs atrocious than intemperance muft be determined by the circumftances of particular cafes. To be ignorant of what we could not know, of what we do not profefs to know, and of what it is not our duty to know, is no vice at all; and a man muft have made fome pro- grefs in debauchery, before he can fay from fe- rious conviction I would rather be chargeable with intemperance, than with ignorance of this kind. It appears, then, that our author's reafoning on the prefent fubjecl, is not philofophical, but what I call metaphyfical-\ ; being found- ed, * See Treatife of Human Nature, vol. 3. p. 257. f I do not contend, that this ufe of the word maaptyfjcal is 342 A N E S S A Y Part III. ed, not on fact, but on theory, and fupport- ed by ambiguous words and inaccurate expe- rience. The judgement of the wifer ancients in mat- ters of morality, is doubtlefs of very great weight, but, in oppofition to the dictates of our own moral nature, can never preponderate > becaufe thefe are our ultimate ftandard of moral truth. Mr. HUME endeavours to confirm his theory of virtue by authorities from the ancients, particularly the Stoics and Peripatetics. Though he had accompliihed this, we might have appeal- ed from their opinion, as well as from his, to our own feelings. But he fails in this, as in the other parts of his proof. It is true, the Peripatetics and Stoics made Prudence the firft (not the moil important) of the cardinal virtues ; becaufe they conceived it neceffary to enable a man to act his part aright in life, and becaufe they thought it their duty to take every opportunity of improving their nature : but they never laid, that an incurable defect of underftanding is a vice, or that it is as much our duty to be learned and ingenious, as to be honeft and grateful. " All the praife of virtue confifts in action," fays Cicero-f-, in name of the Stoics, when treating of this vir- tue of prudence. And, when explaining the comparative merit of the feveral clafTes of moral duty, he declares, that " All knowledge which " is ftriclly proper : I mean nothing more, than to give the reader a notion of this particular mode of falfe reafoning ; and, by fatif- fying him that it is not pbilofopbical, to guard him againft its in- tlaence. f De Officiis, lib. i . cap. 6. Ch. II. ON T R U T H. " is not followed by action, is unprofitable and " imperfect, like a beginning without an end, " or a foundation without a fuperftructure ; " and that the acquifition of the moft fublime " and moft important fcience ought to be, and " will by every good man be relinquished, when " it interferes with the duties we owe our coun- " try, our parents, and "fociety*." Wifdom, indeed, he allows to be the firft and moft excel- lent of the virtues : but the Stoics made a dif- tinction between Prudence and Wifdom. By Prudence they meant that virtue which regu- lates our defires and averfions, and fixes them on proper objects. Wifdom was another name for mental perfection : it comprehended all the virtues, the religious as well as the focial and prudential ; and was equally incompatible with vice and with error-)-. The wife man, the ftand- ard of Stoical excellence, was, by their own acknowledgement, an ideal character ; the pureft virtue attainable in this life being ne- ceflarily tainted with imperfection. Hence fome have endeavoured to turn their notions of ivifdom into ridicule; but I think, without reafon. For is there any thing abfurd or ri- diculous in an artift working after a model of fuch perfection as he can never hope to equal ? In the judgement of Ariftotle and Bacon, the true poet forms his imitations of nature after a model of ideal perfection, which perhaps hath no exiftence but in his own mindj. And are * De Officiis, lib. i. cap. 43. 44. f Id. ib. j Ariftot. Poetica. Bacon, De augmentis fcieutiarum, lib. z. cap. 13. 344 A N E S S A Y Part III. are not Chriftians commanded to imitate the Deity himfelf, that great original and ftandard of perfection, between whom and the moft excel- lent of his creatures an infinite diftance muft remain for ever || ? " The ancient moralifts," fays Mr. HUME, " made no material diftinction among the dif- * f ferent fpecies of mental endowments and de- " feels, but treated all alike under the appella- > '^"* 1 ' /ar <*l l)r - Lib. 6. c. 51 Plutarch ' ZvTt tyutet ?, ovrt fyotyet ? cro^ov. Neop. A'XX' ' Ji/ca, TUV uii KfeSsro-u reiSt. Ulyf. K* cri? ^ix.alov, a y j'Aa&sj $av\a,~$ fua^ IlaXtv ^.-9 van TotVTct ; Neop. Trjx ' Uljf. ZT^Tof ' AXO.MV Ngcp. al~ ru i?(xa(w re> *> ow rugvv Q&tt. lierf. 1279* 346 A N E S S A Y Part III blameable and hateful-)-. Does Virgil confign cripples and idiots, as well as tyrants, to Tar- tarus ? Does he fay, that a great genius, and handfome face, as well as a pure heart, were the paiTports to Elyfium ? No. Virgil was too good a man to injure the caufe of virtue, and too wife to fhock common fenfe, by fo prepof- terous a diftribution of reward and punifh- ment. The impious, the unnatural, the frau- dulent, the avaricious ; adulterers, inceftuous perfons, traitors, corrupt judges, venal ftatef- men, tyrants, and the minions of tyrants, are thofe * Neop. Wife as thou art, Ulyffes, Thou talk'it moft idly. Ulyf. Wifdom is not thine, Either in word or deed. Neop. Know, to be juft Is better far than to be nuife. Ulyf. But where, Where is thejuftice, thus unauthoris'd, To give a treafure back thou oweft to me, And to my counfels ? Neop. I have done a wrong, And I will try to make atonement for it. Ulyf. Doft thou not fear the power of Greece? Neop. I fear Nor Greece, nor thee, when I am doing right. FRANKLIN. Throughout the whole play, the fire arid generofity of the young hero (fo well becoming the fon of Achilles) is finely oppofed to the caution and craft of the politician, and forms one of the moft ftrik- ing contrails that can well be imagined. f - 1 - Quippe Cum ea (juftitia) fine prudentia fatis habeatauc- toritatis, prudentia fine juftitia nihil valet ad faciendam fidem. Quo enim quis verfutior et calidior eft, hoc invifior et fufpedlior, detra&a opinione probitatis. De Ojficii}, lib. z. ceip. 9. Fundamentum perpetuse commendationis et fanue eft juftitia, fine qua nihil poteft efie laudabile. Ibid. cap. 20. The fame dodrine Is repeatedly inculcated in the third book, and in other parts of his works, and indeed in all the good books i am acquainted with. Arid in all the rational converfations I ever witneffed, the fame dodlrine was implied ; nor could any man be thought ferioufly to believe the contrary, without forfeiting the eitecm and confidence of mankind. Ch.II. ON T R U T H. 347 thofe whom he dooms to eternal mifery : and he peoples Elyfium with the {hades of the pure and the pious, of heroes who have died in de- fence of their country, of ingenious men who have employed their talents in recommending piety and virtue, and of all who by a<5ts of be- neficence have merited the love and gratitude of their fellow-creatures * Z 2 The" * Virgil. Mneid. vi. 547. 665. As the moral fenti- ments of nations may often be learned from their fables and tra- ditions, as well as from their hiftory and philofophy, it will not perhaps be deemed foreign from our defign, to give the following brief abftraft of this poet's fublime theory of future rewards and punifhments ; the outlines of which he is known to have taken from the Pythagoreans and Platonifls, who probably were indebted for them to fome ancient tradition. The fhades below are divided by Virgil into three diftrifts or pro- vinces. On this fide Styx, the fouls of thofe whofe bodies have not been honoured with the rites of fepulture, wander about in a melancholy condition for a hundred years, before they are per- mitted to pafs the river. When this period expires, or when their bodies are buried, they are ferried over, and appear before-Minos and the other judges, who allot them fuch a manfion as their lives on earth are found to have deferved. They who have been of little or no ufe to mankind ; or who have not been guilty of any- very atrocious crimes; or whofe crimes, though atrocious, were the eftefts rather of an unhappy deltiny, than of wilful depravati- on, are difpofed of in different parts of the regions of mourning, (lugentes campi), where they undergo a variety of purifying pains. From thence, when thoroughly refined from all the remains of vice, they pafs into Elyfium ; where they live a thoufand years in a ftate of happinefs ; and then, after taking a draught of the waters of oblivion, are fent back to earth to animate new bodies. Thofe who have been guilty of great crimes, as impiety, want of natu- ral afieftion, adultery, incefl, breach of truft, fubverting the li- berties of their country, &c. are delivered by the judge Rhada- manthus to Tifiphone and the other furies, who fhut them up in an immenfe dungeon of darknefs and fire, called Tartarus, where their torments are unfpeakable and eternal. The fouls of good men are re-united, either with the Deity himfelf, or with that univerfal fpirit which he created in the beginning, and which ani- mates the world ; and their fhades, ghofts, or idola, enjoy for ever the repofe and pleafurcs of Elfiyum. Thcfe (hades might be feen, thougk 348 A N E S S A Y Part III. The Peripatetics held prudence to be an ac- tive principle difFufed through the whole of moral virtue *. " None but a good man," fays Ariftotle, " can be prudent ; and, a lit- tle after, " It is not poffible for a man to be ' properly good without prudence, nor pru- " dent without moral virtue -f-." Will it yet be though not touched ; they refembled the bodies with which they had formerly been inverted ; and retained a confcioufnefs of their identity, and a remembrance of their part life, with almoit the fame affeftions and character that had diflinguifhed them on earth. On thisfyftem, Virgil has founded a feries of the fublimeft de- fcriptions that are to be met with in poetry. Milton alone has equalled them in the firft and fecond books of Paradiie Loft. Ho- mer's Necyomanteia, in the eleventh of the Odyfley, has the merit of being original : but Virgil's imitation is confeffedly far fuperior. The dream of Henry, in the feventh canto of the Henriade, not- vvith Handing the ad vantages the author might have drawn from the Chriftian theology, is but a trifle, compared with the magni- ficent and ftupendous fcenery exhibited in the fixth book of the ^Eneid. This theory of future rewards and punifhments, however im- perfeft, is confonant enough with the hopes and fears of men, and their natural notions of virtue and vice, to render the poet's nar- rative alarming and interefting in a very high degree. But were an author to adopt Mr. HUME'S theory of virtue and the foul, and endeavour to fet it oft" in a poetical defcription, all the powers of human genius could not fave it from being ridiculous. A me- taphyfician may, " blunder," for a long time, " round about " a "meaning," without giving any violent mock to an inatten- tive reader : but a poet, who clothes his thoughts with imagery, and illuftrates them by examples , miift come to the point at once; and, if he means to pleafe, and not difguft his readers, to move their admiration, and not their contempt, muft be careful not to eOntradift their natural notions, especially in matters of fuch deep arid univerfal concern as morality and religion. Ethic, ad Nicom. vi. ij. ] A'oLvai'rev Q^i'jipoy li.'':u py tyra uyuSt*. Ov%' oio 1 7. .'_',:> Itvat CM; outv &jfff6cruC* c,l'd\ Q^mpoi ci>tv rri<; 'J^*ni agcrv;. Id* vi. 13. See Ch. II. O N T R U T H. 349 be faid, that the ancient moralifts made no ma- terial diftinction between moral and intellectual virtues ? Is it not evident, that though they confidered both as neceflary to the formation of a perfect character, and fometimes difcourfed of both in the fame treatife or fyftem, yet they deemed the latter valuable only as means to qualify us for the former, and infignificant, or even odious, when they failed to anfwer this end? " We may," fays Mr. HUME, " by perilling " the titles of the chapters in Ariftotle's Ethics, " be convinced, that he ranks courage, tem- " perance, magnificence, magnanimity, modef- prudence, and a manly freedom^ among te virtues, as well as juftice and friend- " fhip*." True; but if our learned metaphy- cian had extended his refearches a little be- yond the titles of thofe chapters, he would have found, that, in Ariftotle's judgement, " Moral virtue is a voluntary difpofition or ha- " bit; and that the moral approbation and dif- " approbation are excited by thole actions and fl affections only which are in our own pow- " er, that is, of which the firft motion arifes " in ourfelves, and proceeds horn no extrinfic " caufef." This See the elegant paraphrafe of Andronicus the Rhodian, upon thefe paffages. * Hume's EfTays, vol. 2. p. 388. The term manly freedom does not exprefs the meaning of the Greek i^Se^o-n^. By this word the philofopher denotes that virtue which cottjijis in the moderate ufe ef wealth. nrlp y^r,^a.ta. ^fftTr.f. See Ethic, ad Nicom. lib, 4. cap. i. 2. f Ethic, ad Nicom. lib. 2. & 3. Andronicus Rhodius, p. 89. pp. &c. Edit. Cantab. 1679. 35Q A N E S S A Y Part III. This is true philofophy, and very properly determines the degree of merit of our intellec- tual and conftitutional virtues. A man makes proficiency in knowledge : if in this he has ac~led from a defire to improve his nature, and qualify himfelf for moral virtue, that defire, and the action confequent upon it, are virtu- ous, laudable, and of good defert. Is a man pofTefled of great genius ? this inverts him with dignity and diftinction, and qualifies him for noble undertakings : but this of itfelf is no moral virtue ; becaufe it is not a difpofiti- on refulting from a fpontaneous effort. Is his conftitution naturally difpofed to virtue ? he ftill has it in his power to be vicious, and therefore his virtue is meritorious ; though not fo highly as that of another man, who, in fpite of outrageous appetites, and tempting circumftances, hath attained an equal degree of moral improvement. A man conftituti- onally brave, generous, or grateful, commands our admiration more than another, who ftrug- gles to overcome the natural bafenefs of his temper. The former is a fublimer object, and may be of greater fervice to fociety ; and as his virtue is fecured by conftitution as well as by inclination, we repoje in ;t without fear of be- ing difappointed. Yet perhaps the latter, if his merit were equally confpicuous, would be found equally worthy of our moral approbati- on. Indeed, if his virtue be fo irrefolute, as to leave him wavering between good and evil, he is not intitled to praife : fuch irrefolution is criminal, becaufe he may and ought to correct it ; we cannot, and we ought not to truft him, till Ch*p. II. O N T R U T H. 351 till we fee a ftrong prepoflefTion eftablifhed in favour of virtue. However, let us love virtue where-ever we find it : whether the immediate gift of Heaven, or the effect of human induftry co-operating with divine influence, it always de- ferves our efteem and veneration. The reader may now form an eftimate of that author's attention, who fays, that " the anci- " ent moralifts made no material diftinftion ct among the different fpecies of mental endow- " ments and defects," If anyone is difpofed to think, that I have made out my point, rather by inference than by direct proof, I fubmit to his confideration the following paflages, which are too plain to need a commentary. Having propofed a general diftribution of our mental powers, (which feems to amount to tins, that fome of them fit us for knowledge, and others for action,) Ariftotle proceeds in this manner. " According to this diftribution, " virtue is alfo divided into intellectual and <( moral. Of the former kind are wifdom, in- " telligence, and prudence; of the latter, tem- " perance, and frugal liberality. When we " fpeak of morals, we do not fay, that a " man is wife or intelligent, but that he is " gentle or temperate. Yet we praife a wife " man in refpect of his difpofitions [or ha- " bits]; for laudable difpofitions are what we call virtues*," " The 352 A N E S S A Y Part III. " The virtues of the foul," fays Cicero, " and of its principal part the underftanding, 11 are various, but may be reduced to two " kinds. The firft are thofe which Nature has " implanted, and which are called not 'voluntary. " The fecond kind are more properly called vir- " tues, becaule they depend on the will; and " thefe, as objects of approbation, are tran- " fcendently fuperior. Of the for.mer kind are " docility, memory, and all the virtues dirrin- " guimed by the general name of genius, " or capacity : perfons pofTefled of them are " called ingenious. The latter clafs com- e underftanding : and the fifth fe&ion bears this title. Sceptical J~ luticn of thefe doubti. 364 A N E S S A Y Part III does entirely fubvert itfelf, and prove by argu- ment, that by argument nothing can be proved : Thefe are a few of the many fublime myf- teries brought to light by this great philofo- pher, or plainly deducible from his principles. But thefe, however they may illuminate our terreftrial literati,, would convey no informati- on to the planetary ftranger, except perhaps, that the fage metaphyfician knew nothing of his fubjecl. What a ftrange detail ! does not the reader exclaim ? Can it be, that any man mould ever bring himfelf to think, or imagine that he could bring others to think fo abfurdly ! What a tafte, what a heart * muft they pofTefs, whofe delight it * " A free and impartial inquiry after truth, where-ever it is to be found, is indeed a noble and moft commendable difpofiti- on : a difpofition, which every man ought himfelf to labour af- ter, and to the utmoft of his power encourage in all others. It is the great foundation of all ufeful knowledge, of all true vir- tue, and of all lincere religion. But when a man, in his fearche* into the nature of things, finds his inquiries leading him tow- ards fuch notions as, if they fhould prove true, would manifeft- ly fubvert the very effences of good and evil j the leail that a fober-minded man can in fuch a cafe poffibly be fuppofed to owe to God, to virtue, to the dignity of a rational nature, is, that he ought to be in the higheft degree fearful and fufpicious of himfelf, left he be led away by any prejudice, left he be de- ceived by an erroneous argument, left he fuffer himfelf to be impofed on by any wrong inclination. Too great an aflbr- ance in arguments of this nature, even though at prefent they feemed to him to be demonftrations, rejoicing in theftrength of them, and taking pleafure in the carrying of fuch a caufe, is what a good mind can never be capable of. To fuch a per- fon, the finding his own arguments unanfwerable would be the freateft grief; triumphing in fo melancholy a field would be the igheftdiffatisfadtion ; and nothing could afford fo pleafmg, fo agreeable a difappointment, as to find his own reafonings mown to be inconclufive." Dr. S. Clarke's Remarks on a book enti- tled, A fbilofophical Enquiry concerning Human Liberty, / ' 45 ' -This Ch.II. ON T R U T H. 365 it is, to reprefent nature as a chaos, and man as a monfter; to fearch for deformity and con- fufion, where others rejoice in the perception of order and beauty j and to feek to imbitter the happieft moments of human life, namely, thofe we employ in contemplating the works of crea- tion, and adoring their Author, by this fug- geftion, equally falfe and malevolent, that the moral as well as material world, is nothing but darknefs, diflbnance, and perplexity! " Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breed* " Perverfe, all monftrous, all prodigious things, tf Abominable, unutterable, and worfe " Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd ! Were this do6lrine true, we fhould be little obliged to him who gives it to the public - y for we " This is certain (fays Shaftefbury) that it can be no great {lengthening to the moral affeftion, no great fupport to the pure love of goodnefs and virtue, to fuppofe that there is neither goodnefs nor beauty in the WHOLE itfelf; nor any example or precedent of any good affedlion in any fuperior being. Such a belief mud tend rather to the weaning the affedlions from any thing amiable or felf-worthy, and to the fupprefling the very ha- bit and familiar cuftom of admiring natural beauties, or what- ever in the order of things is according to jult defign, harmony, and proportion. For how little difpofed mult a perfon be, to love or admire any thing as orderly in the univerfe, who thinks the univerfe itfelf a pattern of diforder? How unapt to re- verence or refpeft any particula/ fubordinate beauty of a part, when even the whole itfelf is thought to want perfection, and to be only a vaft and infinite deformity ? Nothing indeed can be more melancholy, than the thought of living in a diftraft- ed univerfe, from whence many ills may be fufpefted, and where there is nothing good or lovely which prefents itfelf, nothing which can fatisfy in contemplation, or raife any paflion befides that of contempt, hatred, or diCike. Such an opinion as this may by degrees imbitter the temper, and not only make the love of virtue to be lefs felt, but help to impair and ruin the very principle of virtue, to wit, natural and kind affection." Inquiry concerning Virtue, &, i. p. 3. j. 366 A N E S S A Y Part III. we could hardly imagine a greater misfortune than luch a cafl of underftanding as would make us believe it. But founded, as it is, in words mifunderftood, and facts mifreprefented ; fupported, as it is, by fophiftry fo egregious, and often fo puerile, that we can hardly con- ceive how even the author himfelf mould be impofed upon by it; furely they who attempt to obtrude it on the weak and unwary, mufl have fomething in their difpofition, which, to a man of a good heart, or good tafte, can never be the object of envy. We are told, that the end of fcepticifm, as it was taught by Pyrrho, Sextus Empiricus, and other ancients, was to obtain indifturbance *. I know not whether this be the end our modern fceptics have in view ; if it is, the means they employ for attaining it are very prepofter- pus. If the profpect of nature exhibited in their fyflems produce tranquillity or indifturbance, how dreadful muft that tranquillity be ! It is like that of a man, turned adrift amidft a dark and tempeftuous ocean, in a crazy IkifF, with neither rudder nor compafs, who, exhaufted by the agitations of defpair, lofes at laft all fenie of * Pyrrho, as he afiedled not to believe his fenfes, affected alfo to be free from all paffions and emotions : for when Anaxarchus, his mafter and fellow-traveller, happened to fall iato a ditch, that worthy fceptic patted on without once looking behind him ; for which indifference his befotted mafter is faid to have held him in great admiration. An inftance like this, wlien it occurs in hif- tory, is not lefs aftonifhing, than n monftrous birth, or any other uncommon appearance; except we fuppofe thefe precious pat- terns of vvifdom to have played tricks with one another, to make the people ftare. At any rate, it is furely unworthy of a man of honour and learning, to iift himfelf under their banners, by reviv- ing any of their filly paradoxes. Ch. II. O N T R U T H. 367 of his mifery, and becomes totally ftupid. In fact, the only thing that can enable fceptics to endure exiftence, is infenfibility. And how far that is confident with delicacy of mind, let thofe among them explain who are ambitious of paf- fmg for men of tafte. It is remarked by a very ingenious and amia- ble writer, that " many philofophers have been " infidels, few men of tafte and fentiment *." This, if I miftake not, holds equally true df our fceptics in philofophy, and infidels in reli- gion : and it holds true of both for the fame reafon. The views and expectations of the infi- del and fceptic are fo full of horror, that to. a man of tafte, that is, of fenfibility and imagi- nation, they are infuppoitable. On the other hand, what true religion and true philofophy dictate of God, and providence, and man, is fo charming, fo confonant with all the finer and nobler feelings in human nature, that every man of tafte who hears of it muft wifh it to be true : and I never yet heard of one perfon of candour, who wifhed to find the evidence of the gofpel fatisfactory, and did not find it fo. Dull imaginations and hard hearts can bear the thought of endlefs confufion, of virtue deprefl- ed and vice triumphant, of an univerfe peopled with fiends and furies, of creation annihilat- ed, and chaos reftored, to remain a fcene of darknefs and folitude for ever and for ever: but it is not fo with the benevolent and tender- hearted. Their notions are regulated by ano- ther ftandardj their hopes and fears, their joys and ibrrows, are quite of a different kind. The * Dr. Gregory's Comparative View, p. 201. fourth edition. 368 A N E S S A Y Part III' The moral powers and the powers of tafte are more congenial than is commonly imagined ; and he who is deftitute of the latter will ever be found as incapable to defcribe or judge of the former, as a man wanting the fenfe of fmell is to decide concerning relifhes. Nothing is more true, than that cc a little learning is a danger- " oils thing." If we are but a little acquaint- ed with one part of a complicated fyftem, how is it pofiible for us to judge aright, either of the nature of the whole, or of the fitnefs of that part ! And a little knowledge of one fmall part of the mental fyftem, is all that any man can be allowed to have, who is defective in ima- gination, fenfibility, and the other powers of tafte. Yet, as ignorance is apt to produce te- merity, I ihould not be furprifed to find fuch men moft forward to attempt reducing the phi- lofophy of human nature to fyftem : and, if they made the attempt, I mould not wonder that they fell into the moft important miftakes. Like a fhort-lighted landfcape-painter, they might poffibly delineate fome of the largeft and ; roughed figures with tolerable exactnefs : but of the minuter objects, fome would wholly ef- cape their notice, and others appear bloated and diftorted, on which nature had beftowed the utmoft delicacy of colour, and harmony of proportion. The modern fceptical philofophy is as corrupt a body of fcience as ever appeared in the world. And it deferves our notice, that the moft confi- derable of its adherents and promoters were more eminent for fubtlety of reafon, than for fenfi- bility of tafte. We know that this was the cafe Ch. II. ON TRUTH. 369 cafe with MALE BRAN CHE, of whom Mr- D'Alembert fays, that he could not read the moft fublime verfes without wearinefs and difguft*. This was alfo the cafe with another author, to whom our fceptics are more obliged than they feem willing to acknowledge. I mean Mr. HOBBESJ whofe tranflation of Homer bears juft fuch a refemblance to the Iliad and Odyfley, as a putrefying carcafe bears to a beautiful and vigorous human body. The philofophy of the mind, if fuch as it ought to be, would certainly intereft us more than any other fcience. Are the fceptical trea- tifes on this fubjecl: interefling ? Do they bring conviction to the judgement, or delight to the fancy ? Do they either reach the heart, or feem to proceed from it ? Do they make us better acquainted with ourfelves, or better prepared for the bufmefs of life ? Do they not rather in- feeble and harrafs the foul, divert its attention from every thing that can enlarge and improve it, give it a difrelifh for itfelf, and for every thing elfe, and difqualify it alike for action, and for ufeful knowledge ? Other caufes might be afligned for the prefent degeneracy of the moral fciences. I (hall men- tion one, which I the rather chufe to take no- tice of, and infift upon, becaufe it has been ge- nerally overlooked. DES CARTES and MALE- BRANCHE introduced the fafhion, which conti- nues to this day, of neglecting the ancients in all their philofophical inquiries, We feem to think, becaufe we are confefledly fuperior in fomc * EfTai fur le Gout. 370 A N E S S A Y Part III. fome fciences, that we muft be fo in all. But that this is a rafh judgement, may eafily be made appear, even on the fuppofition, that human genius is nearly the fame in all ages. When accidental difcovery, long experience, or profound inveftigation, are the means of ad- vancing a fcience, it is reafonable to expect, that the improvements of that fcience will increafe with length of time. Accordingly we find, that, in natural philofophy, natural hiftory, and fome parts of mathematical learning, the mo- derns are far fuperior to the ancients. But the fcience of human nature, being attainable ra- ther by intuition than by deep reafoning or nice experiment, mufl depend for its cultivation up- on other caufes. Different ages and nations have different cuftoms. Sometimes it is the fafhion to be referved and affected, at other times to be fimple and fincere: fometimes, therefore, it will be eafy, and at other times dif- ficult, to gain a competent knowledge of hu- man nature by obfervation. In the old ro- mances, we feek for human nature in vain; the manners are all affected ; prudery is the higheft, and almofl the only ornament, of the women ; and a fantaftical honour of the men : but the writers adapted themfelves to the prevailing tafle, and painted the manners as they faw them. In our own country, we have feen va- rious modes of affectation, fucceffively prevail within a few years. To fay nothing of prefent times; every body knows, how much pedantry, libertinifm, and falfe wit, contributed to dif- guife human nature in the laft century, And I apprehend, that in all monarchies one mode or Chap. II. O N T R U T H. 371 or other of artificial manners muft always pre- vail i to the formation of which the character of princes, the tafte of the times, and a variety of other caufes will co-operate. Montefquieu's opinion, that the courts of monarchs muft always of neceflity be corrupt, I cannot fubfcribe to : I think, that virtue may be, and fometimes is, the principle of action, even in the higheft offices of monarchy: my meaning is, that under this form of govern- ment, human manners muft generally deviate, more or lefs, from the fimplicity of nature : and that, confequently, human fentiments muft be of more difficult inveftigation than under fome other forms. In courts, it feems requifite, for the fake of that order which is eflential to dig- nity, to eftablifh certain punctilios in drefs, language, and gefture : there too, the moft in- violable fecrecy is expedient: and there, where men are always under the eye of their fuperiors, and for the moft part engaged in the purfuits of ambition or intereft, a fmoothnefs of behavi- our will naturally take place, which among perfons of ordinary talents, and ordinary virtue, muft on many occafions degenerate into hypo- crify. The cuftoms of the court are always imitated by the higher ranks ; the middle ranks follow the higher ; and the people come after as faft as they can. It is, however, in the laft mentioned clafs, where nature appears with the leaft difguife : but unhappily for moral fcience, the vulgar are feldom objects of cu- riofity, either to our philofophers, or hifto- rians. The 372 A N E S S A Y Part III. The influence of thefe caufes, in diftinguifh- Ing human fentiments, will, I prefume, be great- er or lei's, according as the monarchy partakes more or lefs of dernocratical principles. There is, indeed, one fet of fentiments, which mo- narchy and modern manners are peculiarly fit- ted for difclofing, I mean thofe that relate to gallantry: and it is evident, that thefe (taking the word Gallantry in the heft fenfe) tend in fome refpects to render fociety comfortable, and to enlarge the fphere of comic writing; but whether to make the efTential principles of hu- man nature more or lefs known, might perhaps bear a queftion. Modern hiftory ought, on many accounts, to intereft us more than the ancient. It defcribes manners that are familiar to us, events whereof we fee and feel the confequences, political efta- blifhments on which our property and fecurity depend, and places and perfons in which expe- rience or tradition has already given us a con- cern. And yet I believe it will be acknowledg- ed, that the ancient hiftories, particularly of Greece and Home, are more interesting than thofe of latter times. In fact, the moil affect- ing part, both of hiftory and of poetry, is that which beft difplays the characters, manners, and fentiments of men. Hiftories that are defici- ent in this refpect, may communicate inftruc- tion to the geographer, the warrior, the ge- nealogift, and the politician 3 but will never pteafe the general taile, becaufe they excite no paflion, and awaken no fympathy. Now, I cannot help thinking, that the perfonages de- tcribed in modern hiflory have, with a very few exceptions, Ch. II. ON T R U T H. 373 exceptions, a ftiffhefs and referve about them, which doth not feem to adhere to the great men of antiquity, particularly of Greece. I will not fay, that our hiftorians have lefs ability or lefs induftry ; but I would fay, that democratical governments, like thofe of ancient Greece, are more favourable to fimplicity of manners, and confequently to the knowledge of the human mind, than our modern monarchies. At A- thens and Sparta, the public aflemblies, the public exerciies, the regular attendance given to all the public folemnities, whether religious or civil, and other inftitutions that might be mentioned, gave the citizens many opportuni- ties of being well acquainted with one another. There the great men were not cooped up in pa- and coaches; they were almofl conftantly in the open air, and on foot. The people faw them every day, converfed with them, and ob- ferved their behaviour in the hours of relaxa- tion, as well as of bufmefs. Themiftocles could call every citizen of Athens by his name ; a proof that the great men courted an univer- fal acquaintance. No degree of genius will ever make one a proficient in the fcience of man, without accu- rate obfervation of human nature in all its va- rieties. Homer, the greateft mailer in this fcience ever known, palled the moft of his life in travelling : his poverty, and other misfor- tunes, made him often dependent on the mean- eft, as his talents recommended him to the friendfhip of the greateft ; fo that what he fays of UlyrTes may juftly be applied to himfelf, that " he vifited many ftates and nations, and " knew 374 A N E S S A Y Part III; ce knew the characters of many men." Virgil had not the fame opportunities : he lived in an age of more refinement, and was perhaps too much converfant in courtly life, as well as too baihful in his deportment, and delicate in his conftitution, to ftudy the varieties of human nature, where in a monarchy they are moft confpicuous, namely in the middle and lower ranks of mankind. Need we wonder, then, that in the difplay of character he falls fo far fhort of his great original ? Shakefpeare was fa- miliarly acquainted with all ranks and conditi- ons of meTij without which, notwithftanding his unbounded imagination, it is not to befup- pofed, that he could have fucceeded fo well in delineating every fpecies of human character, from the conftable to the monarch, from the hero to the clown. And it deferves our notice, that, however ignorant he might be of Latin and Greek, he was well acquainted, bytranfla- tion, with fome of the ancients, particularly Plutarch, whom he feems to have ftudied with much attention, and who indeed excels all hif- torians in exhibiting lively and interefting views of human nature. Great viciflitudes of for- tune gave Fielding an opportunity of afTociating with all claries of men, except perhaps the high- eft, whom he rarely attempts to defcribe : Swift's way of life is well known : and I have been told, that Congreve ufed to mingle in difguife with the common people, and pafs whole days and weeks among them. That the ancient painters and ftatuaries were in many refpecls fuperior to the modern, is univerfally allowed. The monuments of their genius Ch.II. O N T R U T H. 375 genius that ftill remain, would convince us of it, even though we were to fuppofe the ac- counts given by Pliny, Lucian, and other co- temporary authors, to be a little exaggerated. The uncommon fpirit and elegance of their attitudes and proportions are obvious to every eye: and a great mailer feems to think, that modern artifts, though they ought to imitate, can never hope to equal the magnificence of their ideas, or the beauty of their figures*. To ac- count for this, we need not fuppofe, that hu- man genius decays as the world grows older. It may be afcribed partly to the fuperior ele- gance of the human form in thofe days, and partly to the artifts having then better opportu- nities of obferving the human body, free from theincumbrances of drefs, in all the varieties of action and motion. The ancient difcipline of the Greeks and Romans, particularly the for- mer, was admirably calculated for improving the human body in health, ftrength, fwiftnefs, flexibility, and grace. In thefe refpects, there- fore, they could hardly fail to excel the mo- derns, whofe education and manners tend rather to enervate the body, and cramp all its faculties. And as the ancients performed many of them naked, and thought it honourable to excel in them 5 as their cloathing was lefs cumberfome than our Gothic apparel, and (hewed the body to more advantage; it muft be allowed that their painters and flatuaries had better op- portunities of obfervation than ours enjoy, who fee nothing but aukward and languid figures, * Frefnoy, De Arte Graphica, lin. 190. 376 A 1ST E S S A Y Part III. figures, difguifed by an unwieldy and ungrace- ful attire*. Will it not, then, be acknowledged, that the ancients may have excelled the moderns in the fcience of human nature, provided it can be fhown, that they had better opportunities of obferving it ? That this was the cafe, appears from what has been already faid. And that they really excelled us in this fcience, will not be doubted by thofe who acknowledge their fu- periority in rhetoric and criticifm ; two arts which are founded in the philofophy of the human mind. But a more direct proof of the point in queftion may be had in trie writings of Homer, Plutarch, and the Socratic philofo- phers ; which, for their admirable pictures of human nature in its genuine limplicity, are not equalled by any compofitions of a later date. Of Ariftotle I fay nothing. We are affured by thofe who have read his works, that no author ever underftood human nature better than he. Fielding himfelf -f- pays him this compliment ; and his teftimony will be allowed to have con- liderable weight. Let me therefore recommend it to thofe phi- lofophers who may hereafter make human na- ture the fubjecl: of their fpeculation, to fludy the ancients more than our modern fceptics feem to have done. If we fet out, like the au- thor of 'The Treatife of Human Nature ', with a fixed purpofe to advance as many paradoxes as poffible ; or with this foolifh conceit, that men * See Algarotli on painting, chap. 2. f Fieluing's works, vol. 11. p. 384. London 1766, izmo Ch.II. O N T R U T H. 377 in all former ages were utter ftrangers to them- felves, and to one another ; and that we are the firft of our fpecies on whom Nature has be- flowed any glimmerings of difcernment ; we may depend on it, that in proportion as our vanity is great, our fuccefs will be fmall. It will b:, like that of a mufician, who fhould take it in his head, that Cbrelli had no tafte in counterpoint, nor Handel or Jackfon any geni- us for melody j of an epic poet, who fhould fancy, that Homer, Virgil, and Milton, were bad writers ; or of a painter, who mould fup- pofe all his brethren of former times to have been unacquainted with the colours, lineaments, and proportions of vifible objecls. If Columbus, before he fet out on his fa- mous expedition to the weftern world, had amufed himfelf with writing a hiitory of the countries he was going to viiit ; would the lo- vers of truth, and interpreters of nature, have received any improvement or fatisfaclrion from fuch a fpecimen of his ingenuity ? And is not the fyflem which, without regard to experi- ence, a philoibpher frames in his clofet, con- cerning the nature of man, equally frivolous ? If Columbus, in fuch a hiftory, had defcribed the Americans with two heads, cloven feet, wings, and a icarlet complexion j and after vi- iiting them, and finding his defcription falfe in every particular, had yet publifhed that defcrip- tion to the world, affirming it to be true, and at the fame time acknowledging, that it did not correipond with his experience ; I know not whether mankind would have been mod dif- pofed to blame his difingenuity, to laugh at his VOL. I. B b abfurdity, ft$ AN ESSAY PartllL abfurdity, or to pity his want of underftand- ing. And yet we have known a metaphyfician contrive a fyftem of human nature, and, though fenfible that it did not correfpond with the real appearances of human nature, deliver it to the world as found philoibphy ; we have heard this fyftem applauded as a mailer-piece of genius ; and we have feen the experience of individuals, the confent of nations, the accumulated wifdom of ages, the principles of fcience, the truths of religion, and dictates of common fenfe, facri- ficed to this contemptible and felf-contradifto- ry chimera. I would further recommend it to our moral philofophers, to ftudy themfelves with candour and attention, and cultivate an acquaintance with mankind, efpecially with thofe whofe man- ners retain moft of the truth and fimplicity of nature. Acquaintance with the great makes a man of fafhion, but will not make a philofo- pher. They who are ambitious to merit this appellation, think nothing below them which the Author of Nature has been pleafed to create, to preferve, and to adorn. Away with this paflion for fyftem-building 1 it is pedantry : away with this luft of paradox ! it is prefump- tion. Be equally afhamed of dogmatical pre- judice, and fceptical incredulity; for both are as remote from the fpirit of true philofophy, as bullying and cowardice from true valour. It will be faid, perhaps, that a general know- ledge of man is Sufficient for the philofopher ; and that this particular knowledge which we recommend, is neceflary only for the novelift and poet. But let it be remembered, that ma- ny Ch, II. ON T R U T H. 379 ny important errors in moral philofophy have arifen from the want of this particular know- ledge ; and that it is by too little, not by too much experience, by fcanty, not by copious, induction, that philofophy is corrupted. Men have rarely framed a fyftem, without firft con- fulting experience in regard to fome few obvi- ous facts. We are apt to be prejudiced in fa- vour of the notions that prevail within our own narrow circle ; but we muft quit that circle, if we would diveft ourfelves of prejudice, as we muft go from home, if we would get rid of our provincial accent. " Horace alferts wifdom " and good fenfe to be the fource and principle while the man of the " world borrows fo much of the philofopher, " as to be able to adjuft the feveral ienti- " ments with precifion and exaftnefs; and '* the philofopher fo much of the man of B b 2 " the A N E S S A Y Part III. ' the world, as to copy the manners of life ' (which we can only do by experience) with truth and fpirit. Both together furnifh a " thorough and complete comprehenfion of " human life*." That I may not be thought a blind admirer of antiquity, I would here crave the reader's indulgence for one fhort digreffion more, in or- der to put him in mind of an important error in morals, inferred from partial and inaccurate experience, by no lefs a perfon than Ariftotle himfelf. He argues, " That men of little ge- (c nius, and great bodily ftrength, are by na- " ture deflined to ferve, and thofe of better ca- " pacity to command ; that the natives of " Greece, and of fome other countries, being f< fuperior in genius, have a natural right to " empire j and that the reft of mankind, be- nor of the Treatife of Human Nature. For I will not take it on his, nor on any man's word, that religion, both revealed and natural, and all conviction in regard to truth, are detri- mental to mankind. And it is moil certain, that he, if he is indeed the author of thofe EfTays, and of that Treatife, hath exerted his great talents, and employed feveral years of his life, in endeavouring to perfuade the world, that the fundamental doctrines of natural religi- on are irrational, and the proofs of revealed re- ligion fuch as ought not to fatisfy an impartial mind; and that there is not in any fcience an evidence of truth fufficient to produce certainty. Suppofe thefe opinions eftablifhed in the world, and fay, if you can, that the good of man- kind would be promoted by them. To me it feems impoffible .for fociety to exift under the influence of fuch opinions. Nor let it be thought, that we give an unfavourable view of human nature, when we infift on the necefli- ty of good principles for the prefervatioii of good order. Such a total fubverfion of hu- man fentiment is, I believe, impollible : man- kind, at their very worft, are not fuch mon- ilers, as to admit it j reafon, confcience, tanV, habit, intereft, fear, muft perpetually oppoie it: but the philofophy that aims -at a tot;l fubverfion of human fentiment is not on that account the Ids deteftable'. And yet it is faid of the authors of this philofophy, that they exert their great talents in promoting the good of mankind. What an infult on human nature and Ch. III. O N T R U T H. 393 and common fenfe ! If mankind are tame enough to acquiefce in fuch an infult, and fer- vile enough to reply, " It is true, we have ' been much obliged to the celebrated fcep- " tics of this moft enlightened age," they would almofl tempt one to exprefs himfelf in the flyle of mifanthrony, and fay, " Si po- < pulus vult decipi, decipiatur." Every doftrine is dangerous that tends to dif- credit the evidence of our fenfes, external or in- ternal, and to fubvert the original inftinclive principles of human belief. In this refpecl: the moil unnatural and incomprehenfible ab- furdities, fuch as the doctrine of the non-exifl- ence of matter, and of perceptions without a percipient fubflance, are far from being harm- lefs j as they feem to lead, and actually have led, to univerfal fcepticifm ; and fet an exam- ple of a method of reafoning fufficient to over- turn all truth, and pervert every human facul- ty. In this refpecl; alfo we have proved the do6lrine of Fatality to be of moll pernicious tendency, as it leads men to fuppofe their mo- ral fentiments fallacious or equivocal} not to mention its influence on our notions of God, and natural religion. When a fceptic attacks one principle of common fenfe, he does in ef- fe6l attack all ; for if we are made diflruflful of the veracity of inflinc~live conviction in one inflance, we mufl, or at leafl we may, become equally diflruflful in every other. A little fcepticifm introduced into fcience will foon af- fimilate the whole to its own nature ; the fatal fermentation, once begun, fpreads wider and VOL. I. C c wider 394 A N E S S A Y Part III. wider every moment, 'till all the mafs be tranf- formed into rottennefs and poifon. There is no exaggeration here. The prefent ftate of the abilra6l fciences is a melancholy proof, that what I fay is true. This is called the age of reafon and philofophy ; and this is the age of avowed and dogmatical Atheifm. Sceptics have at laft grown weary of doubting ; and have now difcovered by the force of their great talents, that one thing at leaft is certain, namely, that God, and religion, and immor- tality, are empty founds. This is the final tri- umph of ourTfo much boafted philofophic fpirit j theie are the limits of the dominion of error, beyond which we can hardly conceive it poffi- ble for human fophiflry to penetrate. Exult, O Metaphyfic, at the confummation of thy glories. More thou canft not hope, more thou canft not defire. Fall down, ye mortals, and acknowledge the ftupendous bleffing : adore thofe men of great talent^ thofe daring fpirits, thofe patterns of modefty, gentlenefs, andean- dour, thofe prodigies of genius, thofe heroes in beneficence, who have thus laboured to ftrip you of every rational confolation, and to make your condition ten thoufand times worfe than that of the beafts that perifh. Why can I not exprefs myfelf with lefs warmth ! Why can I not devife an apology for theie philofophers, to fcreen them from this dreadful imputation of being the enemies and plagues of mankind ! Perhaps they do not themfelves believe their own tenets, but pub- lilh them only as the means of getting a name and Ch. III. ON TRUTH. 395 and a fortune. But I hope this is not the cafe ; God forbid that it mould ! for then the enor- mity of their guilt would furpafs all power of language j we could only gaze at it and trem- ble. Compared with fuch wickednefs, the crimes of the thief, the robber, the incendiary, would almoft difappear. Thefe facrifice the for- tunes or the lives of Ibme of their fellow-crea- tures, to their own neceffity or outrageous ap- petite : but thofe would run the hazard of fa- crificing, to their own avarice or vanity, the happinefs of mankind, both here and hereaf- ter. No ; I cannot fuppofe it : the heart of man, however depraved, is not capable of fuch malignity. Perhaps they do not forefee the confequences of their doctrines. BERKELEY mofl certainly did not. But BERKELEY did not attack the religion of his country, did not feek to undermine the foundations of vir- tue, did not preach or recommend Atheifm. He erred ; and who is free from error ? but his intentions were irreproachable ; and his conduct as a man, and a Chriftian, did honour to hu- man nature. Perhaps our modern fceptics are ignorant, that, without the belief of a God, and the hope of immortality, the mife- ries of human life would often be infupport- able. But can I fuppofe them in a ftate of to- tal Itupidity, utter ftrangers to the human heart, and to human affairs? Sure they would not thank me for fuch a fuppofition. Yet this I rnuft fuppofe, or I mult believe them to be moft perfidious and cruel. Carefled by thole who call them f elves the great, ingroifcd by the formalities and foppc- C c 2 . ncs 396 A N E S S A Y Part III. ries of life, intoxicated with vanity, pampered with adulation, diifipated in the tumult or bu- linefs, or amidft the viciffitudes of folly, they perhaps have little need, and little relifli, for the confolations of religion. But let them know, that, in the folitary fcenes of life, there is many an honefl and tender heart pining with incurable anguifh, pierced with the fharp- efl fting of difappointment, bereft of friends, chilled with poverty, racked with difeafe, icourged by the opprefTor ; whom nothing but truft in Providence, and the hope of a future retribution, could preferve from the agonies of defpair. And do they, with facrilegious hands, attempt to violate this laft refuge of the mifera- ble, and to rob them of the only comfort that had furvived the ravages of misfortuns, malice, and tyranny ! Did it ever happen, that the in- fluence of their execrable tenets difturbed the tranquillity of virtuous retirement, deepened the gloom of human diftrefs, or aggravated the horrors of the grave ? .Is it poffible, that this may have happened in many inftances ? Is it probable, that this hath happened, or may hap- pen, in one fingle inftance ? Ye traitors to human kind, how can ye anfwer for it to your own hearts ! Surely every fpark of your ge- nerofity is extinguiihed for ever, if this confi- deration do not awaken in you the keener! re- morfe, and make you wifh in bitternefs of foul But I remonftrate in vain. Could I inforce the prefent topic by an appeal to your vanity, I might perhaps make fome impreffion : but to plead with you on the principles of be- nevolence or generofity, is to addrefs you in language ye do not, or will not, underfland. But Ch. III. O N T R U T H. 397 But let not the lovers of truth be difcou raged. Atheifm cannot be of long continuance, nor is there any danger of its becoming univerfal. The influence of fome confpicuous characters has brought it too much into fafhion; which, inathoughtlefs and profligate age, it is no diffi- cult matter to accomplish. But when men have retrieved the powers of ferious reflection, they will find it a frightful phantom ; and the mind will return gladly and eagerly to its old endearments. One thing we certainly know : the fafhion of fceptical fyftems foon pafTeth away. Thofe unnatural productions, the vile efFufion of a hard heart, that miftakes its own reftlefT- nefs for the activity of genius, and its own captioufnefs for fagacity of underftanding, may, like other monfters, pleafe a while by their fm- gularity ; but the charm is foon over : and the fucceeding age will be aftonifhed to hear, that their forefathers were deluded, or amufed, with fuch fooleries. The meafure of Scepticifm feems indeed to be full ; it is time for Truth to vindicate her rights, and we truft they mall yet be completely vindicated. Such are the hopes and the earneft wifhes of one, who has feldom made controverfy his ftudy, who never took pleafure in argumentation, and who dif- claims all ambition of being reputed a fubtle difputant; but who, as a friend to human na- ture, would account it his honour to be in- ftrumental in promoting, though by means unpleafant to himfelf, the caufe of virtue and true fcience, and in bringing to contempt that fceptical fophiftry which is equally fubverfive of both. POST- 398 A N E S S A Y P. S. POSTSCRIPT, November, 1770. A O read and criticife the modern fyilems of fcepticifm, is fo difagreeable a talk, that no- thing but a regard to duty could ever have de- termined me to engage in it. I found in them neither inflruction nor amufement ; I wrote againfl them with all the difguft that one feels in wrangling with an unrealbnable adverfary ; and I published what I had written, with the certain profpecl of raifmg enemies, and with fuch an opinion of my performance, as allow^ ed me not to entertain any fanguine hope of fuccefs. I thought it however poffible, nay, and probable too, that this book might do good. I knew that it contained fome matters of importance, which, if I was not able to fet them in the beft light, might however, by my means, be fuggefled to others more capable to do them juftice. Since thefe papers were firft publifhed, I have laid myfelf out to obtain information of what has been faid of them, both by their friends, and by their enemies ; hoping to profit by the cenfures of the latter, as well as by the admo- nitions of the former. I do not hear, that any P. S. O N T R U T H. 399 any perfon has aceufed me of mifconceiving or mifreprefenting my adverfaries doctrine. Again and again have I requeued it of thofe whom I know to be mailers of the whole controverfy, to give me their thoughts freely on this point; and they have repeatedly told me, that, in their judgement, nothing of this kind can be laid to my charge. Moil of the objections that have been made, I had forefeen, and, as I thought, furHciently obviated by occafional remarks in the courfe of the effay. But, in regard to fome of them, I find it neceilary now to be more particular. I wiih to give the fulleft fatisfaction to every can- did mind : and I am fure I do not, on thefe fubjecls, entertain a fingie thought which I need be afhamed or afraid to lay before the public. J have been blamed for entering fo warmly into this controverfy. In order to prepofiefs the minds of thofe who had not read this per- formance, with an unfavourable opinion of it, and of its author, infmuations have been made, and carefully propagated, that it treats only of fome abftrule points of fpeculative metaphy- fics j which, however, I am aceufed of having difcuffed, or attempted to difcufs, with all the zeal of a bigot, indulging myfelf in an inde- cent vehemence of language, and uttering ran- corous invectives againil tiiofe who differ from me in opinion. Much, on this occafion, been laid in praife of moderation and kvpti- cilm; moderation, the loufce of candour, good-breeding, and good-natuiv; and icepti- ciim, the child of impartiality, and the parent of 400 A N E S S A Y t. S. of humility. When men believe with full conviction, nothing, it feems, is to be expect- ed from them but bigotry and bitternefs ; when they fuffer themfelves in their inquiries to be warmed with affection, they are philofophers no longer, but revilers and enthufiafts ! If this were a juft account of the matter and manner of the Eflay on Truth, I mould not have the face even to attempt an apology ; for were any perfon guilty of the fault here com- plained of, I myfelf mould certainly be one of the flrft to condemn him. In the whole circle of human fciences, real or pretended, there is not any thing to be found which I think more perfectly contempti- ble, than the fpeculative metaphyfics of the moderns. It is indeed a moft wretched medley of ill-digefted notions, indiftinct perceptions, inaccurate obfervations, perverted language, and fophiftical argument ; diftingu idling where there is no difference, and confounding where there is no fimilitude; feigning difficulties where it cannot find them, and overlooking them when real. I know no end that the ftu- dy of fuch jargon can anfwer, except to har- den and ftupify the heart, bewilder the under- flanding, four the temper, and habituate the mind to irrefolution, captioufnefs, and falfe- hood. For fludies of this fort I have neither time nor inclination, I have neither head nor heart. To enter into them at all, is fooliih ; to enter into them with warmth, ridiculous ; but to treat thofe with any bitternefs, whofe judgements concerning them may differ from ours, is in a very high degree odious and cri- minal. P, S. O N T R U T H. 401 minal. Thus far, then, my adverfaries and I are agreed. Had the fceptical philofophers confined themfelves to thofe inoffenfive wrang- lings that fhow only the fubtlety and captiouf- nei's of the difputant, but affect not the princi- ples of human conduct, they never would have found an opponent in me. My paflion for writ- ing is not ftrong ; and my love of controver- fy fo weak, that, if it could always be avoided with a fafe confcience, I would never engage in it at all. But when doctrines are publifhed fubverfive of morality and religion, doctrines of which I perceive and have it in my power to expofe the abfurdity, my duty to the public forbids me to be filent ; elpecially when I fee, that, by the influence of fafhion, folly, or more criminal caufes, thofe doctrines ipread wider and wider every day, diffufing ignorance, mifery, and licentiouihefs, where-ever they pre vail. Let us oppoie the torrent, though we ihould not be able to check it. The zeal and example of the weak have often roufed to ac- tion, and to victory, the (lumbering virtue of the ftrong. I likewife agree with my adverfaries in this, that fcepticifm, where it tends to make men well-bred, and good-natured, and to rid them of pedantry and petulance, without doing indi- viduals or fociety any harm, is an excellent thing. And fome forts of fcepticifm there are, that really have this tendency. In philoibphy, in hiftory, in politics, yea, and even in theolo- gy itfelf, there are many points of doubtful difputation, in regard to which a man's judge- ment may lean to either of the fides, or hang wavering 402- A N E S S A Y P. S. wavering between them, without the leaft in- convenience to himfelf, or others. Whether pure fpace exifts, or how we come to form an idea of it; whether all the objects of human reafon may be fairly reduced to Ariftotle's ten categories ; whether Hannibal, when he parTed the Alps, had any vinegar in his camp j whe- ther Richard III. was as remarkable for cruel- ty and a hump-back, as is commonly believed ; whether Mary Queen of Scotland married Both- well from inclination, or from the neceffity of her affairs; whether the earth is better peopled now than it was in ancient times ; whether public prayers iliould be recited from memo- ry, or read : in regard to thefe, and fuch like queftions, a little fcepticifm may be very fafe and very proper, and I will never think the worfe of a man for differing from me in opinion. And if ever it Ihould be my chance to engage in controverfy on fuch quefticms, I here pledge my f elf to the public , (abfit invidia verbo!), that I will conduct the whole affair with the moft exemplary coolnefs of blood, and lenity of language. I have obferved, that ftrong conviction is more apt to breed flrife, in matters of little moment, than in fubjects of high importance. Not to mention (what I would willingly forget) the fcandalous contefts that have prevailed in the Chriftian world about trifling ceremonies and points of doctrine, I need only put the reader in mind of thofe learned critics and annotators, Salmafius, Val- la, and Scaliger who in their fquabbles about words, gave fcope to fuch rancorous animofity, and virulent abufe, as is altogether without ex- ample. P. S. ON TRUTH. 403 ample. In every cafe where dogmatical belief tends to harden the heart, or to breed pre- judices incompatible with candour, humani- ty, and the love of truth, all good men will be careful to cultivate moderation and di.:i- dence. But there are other points, in regard to which a ftrong conviction produces the beft effects, and doubt and hefitation the worft: and thefe are the points that our fceptics labour to Subvert, and I to eftablilh. That the human foul is a real and permanent fubftance, that God exifts, that virtue and vice are distinctly and effentiaily different, that there is fuch a thing as truth, and that man in many cafes is capable of difcovering it, are fome of the prin- ciples which thio book is intended to vindicate from the objections of fcepticifm. Attempts- have been made to perfuade us, that there is no evidence of truth in any fcience; that the hu- man understanding ought not to believe any thing, but rather to remain in perpetual lui- penfe between opposite opinions ; that it is un- reafonable to believe the Deity to be perfectly wife and good, or even to exifl ; that the foul of man has nothing permanent in its nature, nor indeed any kind of existence distinct from' its prefent perceptions, which are continually changing, and will foon be at an end ; and that moral distinctions are ambiguous. This fcepti- cifm, the reader will obferve, is totally fubver- five offcience, morality and religion, both na- tural and revealed. And this is the fcepticifm which I am blamed for having oppoied with warmth and earneftnefs. Ide- 404 A N E S S A Y P. S. I defire to know, what good effects this fcep- ticifm is likely to produce ? " It humbles," we are told, " our pride of underftanding." In- deed ! and are they to be confidered as patterns of humility, who fet the wifdom of all former ages at nought, bid defiance to the common fenfe of mankind, and fay to the wifeft and beft men that ever did honour to our nature, Ye are fools or hypocrites ; we only are candid, ho- neft, and fagacious ! Is this humility! Should I be humble, if I were to fpeak and act in this manner ! Every man of fenfe would pronounce me loft to all fhame, an apoftate from truth and virtue, an enemy to human kind; and my own confcience would juftify the cen- fure. And fb it feems that pride of underftanding is infeparable from the difpofition of thofe who believe, that they have a foul, that there is a God, that virtue and vice are elTentially different, and that men are in fome cafes permitted to difcern the difference between truth and falfehood I Yet the gofpel requires or fuppofes the belief of all thefe points: the gofpel alfo commands us to be humble : and the fpirit and influence of the gofpel have pro- duced the moft perfect examples of that virtue that ever appeared among men. A believer may be proud : but it is neither his belief, nor what he believes, that can make him fo ; for both ought to teach him humility. To call in queftion, and labour to fubvert, thofe firft principles of fcience, morality, and religion, which all the rational part of mankind acknow- ledge, is indeed an indication of a prefumptu- ous P. S. O N T R U T H. 405 ous underftanding: but does the fceptic lay this to the charge of the heliever ? I have heard of a thief, when clofe purfued, turning on his purfuers, and charging them with robbery: but I do not think the example worthy a philo- fopher's imitation. The prevention of bigotry is faid to be ano- ther of the blefied effects of this modern fcep- ticifm. And indeed, if fceptics would act con- fiflently with their own principles, there would be ground for the remark : for a man who believes nothing at all, cannot be faid to be blindly attached to any opinion, except per- haps this one, that nothing is to be believed ; in which, however, if he have any regard to uniformity of character, he will take care not to be dogmatical. But it is well known to all who have had any opportunity of obferving his conduct, that the fceptic rejects thofe opi- nions only which the reft of mankind admit : for that, in regard to his own paradoxes, he is as dogmatical as other people. An ingeni- ous author has therefore, with good reafon, made it one of the articles of the Infidel's creed, That, " he believes in all unbelief *." Though a late writer is a perfect fceptic in regard to the exiftence of his foul and body, he is cer- tain, that men have no idea of power : though he has many doubts and difficulties about the evidence of mathematical truth, he is quite pofi- tive, that his foul is not the fame thing to-day it was yefterday : and though he affirms, that it is by an act of the human underftanding, that * Connoifleur, No. 9. 4 6 A N E S S A Y P, S. that two and two have come to be equal to four ; yet he cannot allow, that to fteal or to abitain from ftealing, to acl or to ceafe from aclion, is in the power of any man. In read- ing fceptical books, I have often found, that the flrengtb of the author's attachment to his paradox, is in proportion to its abfurdity. If it deviates but a little from common opinion, he gives himfelf but little trouble about it - y if it be inconfiftent with univerfal belief, he condefcends to argue the matter, and to bring what with him paries for a proof of it; if it be fuch as no man ever did or could believe, he is ftill more conceited of his proof, and calls it a demonftration ; but if it is inconceiv- able, it is a wonder if he does not take it for granted. Thus, that our idea of extenfion is extended, is inconceivable j and in the Treatife of Human Nature feems to be taken for grant- ed : that matter exifls only in the mind that perceives it, is what no man ever did or could believe ; and the author of the Treatife concern- ing the Principles of Human Knowledge has fa- voured the world with what paifes among the fafhionable metaphyficians for a demonftration of it : that moral and intellectual virtues are upon the fame footing, is inconfiftent with uni- verfal belief: and a famous author has argued the matter at large, and would fain perfuade us, that he has proved it ; though I do not recolle6r, that he triumphs in this proof as fo irrefiftible, as thofe by which he conceives him- feif to have annihilated the idea of power, and exploded the permanency of percipient fub~ fiances. I will not fay, however, that this gra- dation P. S. O N T R U T II. 407 dation holds univerfally. Sceptics, it muft be owned, bear a right zealous attachment to all their abfurdities, both greater and lefs. If they are moft warmly interefted in behalf of the former, it is, I fuppofe, beeaufe they have had the fagacity to forefee, that thofe would Hand moft in need of protection. We fee now how far fcepticifm may be faid to prevent bigotry. It prevents all bigotry, and all ftrong attachment on the fide of truth and common fenfe ; but in behalf of its own para- doxes, it eftabliflies bigotry the moft implicit and the moft obftinate. It is true, that fcep- tics fometimes tell us, that, however pofitive- ly they may alleit their doctrines, they would not have us think them pofitive afTertors of any doctrine. Sextus Empiricus has done this ; and fome too, if I miftake not, of our modern Pyrrhonifts. But common readers are not ca- pable of fuch exquifite refinement, as to be- lieve their author to be in earneft, and at the fame time not in earneft ; as to believe, that when he afTerts fome points with diffidence, and others with the utmoft confidence, he holds him- felf to be equally diffident of all. There is but one way in which it is poffible for a fceptic to fatisfy us, that he is equally doubtful of all doctrines. He muft afTert no- thing, lay down no principles,, contradict none of the opinions of other people, and advance none of his own : in a word, he muft confine his doubts to his own breaft, at leaft the grounds of his doubts j or propofe them modeftly and privately, not with a view to make us change our mind, but only to fliew his own diffidence. For 4 o8 A N E S S A Y P. S. For from the moment that he attempts to ob- trude them on the public, or on any individual, or even to reprefent the opinions of others as lefs probable than his own, he commences a dogmatift -, and is to be accounted more or lefs prefumptuous, according as his doctrine is more or lefs repugnant to common fenfe, and himfelf more or lefs mduftrious to recom- mend it. Though he were to content himfelf with urg- ing objections, without feeking to lay down any principle of his own, which however is a degree of moderation that no fceptic ever yet arrived at, we would not on that account pro- nounce him an inoffenfive man. If his objec- tions have ever weakened the moral or religious belief of any one perfon, he has injured that perfon in his deareit and moil important con- cerns. They who know the value of true re- ligion, and have had any opportunity of ob- ferving its effects on themfelves or others, need not be told, how dreadful to a fenfible mind it is, to be daggered in its faith by the cavils of the Infidel. Every perfon of common hu- manity, who knows any thing of the heart of man, would fhudder at the thought of in- fufmg fcepticifm into the pious Chriftian. Sup- pofe the Chriftian to retain his faith, in fpite of all objections ; yet the confutation of thefe cannot fail to diftrefs him ; and a habit of doubting, once begun, may, to the lateft hour of his life, prove fatal to his peace of mind. Let no one miftake or mifreprefent me : I am not fpeaking of thofe points of doctrine which rational believers allow to be indifferent : I fpeak P. S. O N T R U T H. 409 fpeak of thofe great and moft eFential articles of faith ; the exiftence of a Deity, infinitely wife, beneficent, and powerful ; the certainty of a future ftate of retribution -, and the divine authority of the gofpel. Thefe are the articles which fome late authors labour with all their might to overturn ; and thefe 'are the articles which every perfon who loves virtue and man- kind, would wifh to fee ardently and zealoufly defended. Is it bigotry to believe thefe fublime truths with full allurance of faith ? I glory irr fuch bigotry: I would not part with it for a thoufand wcrlli : I congratulate the man who is pofleflfed of it ; for, amidft all the viciflitudes and calamities of the prefent ftate, that man enjoys a fund of confolation, of which it is not in the power of fortune to deprive him. Calamities, did I fay ? The evils of a very fliort life will not be accounted fuch by him who has a near and certain profpecl: of a happy eterni- ty. Will it be faid, that the firm belief of thefe divine truths did ever give rife to ill-na- ture or perfecutic a ? It will not be faid, by any perfon who is acquainted with hiftory, or the human mind. Of fuch belief, when fin- cere, and undebafed by criminal paffions, meek- nefs, benevolence, and forgivenefs, are the na- tural and nccefTary effects. There is not a book on earth fo favourable to all the kind, and all the fublime affeclions, or fo unfriendly to hatred and perfecution, to tyranny, injuftice, and every fort of malevolence, as that very gof- pel againfl which our fceptics entertain fuch a rancorous antipathy. Of this they cannot be ignorant, if they have ever rend it ; for it VOL I. D d breathes 4 io A N E S S A Y P.S. breathes nothing throughout, but rnercy, be- nevolence, and peace. If they have not read it, they and their prejudices are as contempti- ble, as any thing fo hateful can be : if they have, their pretended concern for the rights of mankind is all hypocrify and a lie. Nor need they attempt to frame an anfwer to this accu- fation, till they have proved, that the morality of the gofpel is faulty or imperfect : that virtue is not ufcful to individuals, nor beneficial to Society ; that the evils of life are moft effect u- |ty alleviated by the extinction of hope > that annihilation is a more encouraging profpect to virtue, than the certain view of eternal happi- nefs ; that nothing is a greater check to vice, than a firm perluafion that no punimment awaits it ; and that it is a consideration full of mifery to a good man, when weeping on the grave of a beloved friend, to reflect, that they {hall foon meet again in a better ftate, never to part any more. I wonder at thofe men who charge upon Chriftianity all the evils that fuperftition, ava- rice, fenfuality, and the love of power, have introduced into the Chriftian world ;. and then, fuppofe, that thefe evils are to be prevented, not by fuppreffing criminal pam*ons> but by extirpating Chriftianity, or weakening its in- fluence. In fact, our religion fupplies the on- ly effectual means of fuppreiiing thefe pillions,, and fo preventing the mifchief complained of ^ and this it will ever be more or lei's powerful to accomplifh, according as its influence over the minds of men is greater or lefs j and great- el or lefs will its influence be, according as its. doctrines P. S. O N T R U T H. 411 doftrines are more or lefs firmly believed. It was not becaufe they were Chriftians, but be- caufe they were covetous and cruel, that the iirrl invaders of America perpetrated thofe dia- bolical cruelties in Peru and Mexico, the nar- rative of which is infupportable to humanity. Had they been Chriftians in any thing but in name, they would have loved their neighbour as themfelves j and no man who loves his neigh- bour as himfelf, will ever cut his throat, or roaft him alive, in order to get at his money. If zeal be warrantable on any occafion, it muft be fo in the p relent controverfy : for I know of no doctrines more important in them- felves, or more affecting to a feniible mind, than thole which the fcepticifm I controvert tends to overturn. But why, it may be faid, fhould zeal be warrantable on any occafion ? The anfwer is eafy : Becaufe on fome occafi- ons it is decent and natural. When a man is deeply interefted in his fubjecr., it is not natu- ral for him to keep up the appearance of as much coolnefs, as if he were difputing about an indifferent matter : and whatever is not natural is offenfive. Were he to hear his deareft friends branded with the appellation of knaves and ruffians, would it be natural, would it be de- cent, for him to preferve the fame indifference in his look, and ibftnefs in his manner, as if he were inveftigating a truth in conic fcftions, arguing about the caufe of the Aurora Borealis, or fettling a point of ancient hillory ? Ought he not to fhovv, by the Iharpnefs as well as by the folidity of his reply, that he not only difavows, but detefts.the accufation ? Is there a D d 2 man 4 i2 A N E S S A Y P. S. man whofe indignation would not kindle at fuch an infult ? Is there a man who would be fo much overawed by any antagonift, as to con- ceal his indignation ? Of fuch a man I ihall only fay, that I would not chufe him for my friend. When our fubject lies near our heart,, our language muft be animated, or it will be worfe than lifelefs ; it will be affected and hy- pocritical. Now what fubject can lie nearer the heart of a Chriftian, or of a man, than the exiftence and perfections of God, and the im- mortality of the human foul ? If he cannot, if he ought not, to hear with patience the blaf- phemies uttered by unthinking profligates in their common converfation, with what temper of mind will he liften or reply to the cool, in- fidious, and envenomed impieties of the deli- berate Atheift ! Fy on it ! that I mould need to write fo long an apology for being an ene- my to Atheifrn and nonfenfe ! " But why engage in the controverfy at all ? " Let the Infidel do his worft, and heap " fophifm on fophifm, and rail, and blaf- tc pheme as long as he pleafes ; if your religi- " on be from Cod, or founded in reafon, it " cannot be overthrown. Why then give your- " felf or others any trouble with your attempts how- ever fafhionable and lucrative, is not the mod convenient field for a fuccefsful difplay of ge- nius. Ever fince Voltaire, ftimulated by ava- rice, and other dotages incident to unprinci- pled old age, formed the fcheme of turning a penny by writing againft the Chriftian religi- on, he has dwindled from a genius of no com- mon magnitude into a paltry book-maker j and now thinks he does great and terrible things, by retailing the crade and long-exploded no- tions of the free-thinkers of the laft age, which, when feafoned with a few miftakes, mifreprefentations, and ribaldries of his own, form fuch a mefs of falfehood, impiety, ob- fcenity, and other abominable ingredients, as nothing but the monftrous maw of an illite- rate infidel can either digeft or endure. Seve- ral of our famous fceptics have lived to fee the greateft part of their profane tenets con- futed. I hope, and earneftly wifh, that they may live to make a full recantation. Some of them muft have known, and many of them might have known, that their tenets were con- futed before they adopted them : yet did they adopt P.S. O N T R U T H. 419 adopt them notwithstanding, and difplay them to the world with as much confidence as if" nothing had ever been advanced on the other fide. So have J feen a tefty and ftubborn dog- matift, when all his arguments were anfwered, and all his invention exhaufted, comfort him- felf at laft with fimply repeating his former pofitions at the end of each new remonftrancc from the adverfary. They who are converfant in the works of the fceptical philofophers, know very well, that thofe gentlemen do not always maintain that moderation of ftyle which might be ex- peeled from perfons of their profeflion ; and if I thought my conduct in this refpecl: need- ed to be, or could be, juftified by fuch a pre- cedent, I might plead even their example as my apology. But I difclaim every plea that fuch a precedent could afford me : I write not in the fpirit of retaliation ; and when I find myfelf inclined to be an imitator, I will look out for other models. Indeed it is hardly to be fuppofed, that I would take thofe for my pattern, whofe principles and projects are io dire6tly oppofite to mine. Their writings tend to fubvert the foundations of human know- ledge, to poifon the fources of human happi- nefs, and to overturn that religion which the beft and wileft men have believed to be of di- vine original, and which every good man, v.h-> underftands it, muft reverence as the greateil bleffing ever conferred upon the human race. I write with a view to counteracl theie tenden- cies, by vindicating fome fundamental articles of 4-20 A N E S S A *Y P. S. of religion and fcience from the fceptical ob- jections, and by mowing, tbat no man can attempt to dilprove the firil principles of knowledge without contradicting himfelf. To the common fenfe of mankind, they fcruple not to oppofe their own conceits, as if they judged thefe to be more worthy of credit than any other authority, human or divine. I urge nothing with any degree of confidence or fer- vour, in which I have not good reafon to think myfelf warranted by the common fenfe of man- kind. Does their caufe, then, or does mine, deferve the warmeft attachment ? Have they, or have I, the moft need to guard againft vehemence of expreffion * ? As certainly as the happinefs of mankind is a defirable object, fo certainly is my caufe good, and theirs evil. To conclude: Liberty of fpeech and writ- ing is one of thofe high privileges that dif- tinguifh Great Britain from all other nations. Every good fubjecl: wifhes, that it may be pre- ferved to the lateft pofterity : and would be forry * " There is no fatisfying the demands of falfe delicacy," fays an elegant and pious author, " becaufe they are not regulat- ed by any fixed ftandard. But a man of candour and judge- ment will allow, that the bafhful timidity pra&ifed by thofe who put themfelves on a level with the adverfaries of religion, would ill become one who, declining all difputes, afierts pri- mary truths on the authority of common fenfe ; and that who- ever pleads the caufe of religion in this way, has a right to af- fume a firmer tone, and to pronounce with a more decifive air, not upon the ftrength of his own judgement, but on the re- verence due from all mankind to the tribunal to which he appeals." Oswald's Appeal in tebatf of religion, p. 14, P.S. O N T R U T H. 4 ai forry to fee the civil power interpofe to check the progrefs of rational inquiry. Nay, when inquiry ceafes to be rational, and becomes both whimfical and pernicious, advancing as far as fome late authors have carried it, to controvert the firft principles of knowledge, morality, and religion : and confequently the fundamental laws of the Britiih government, and of all well-regulated fociety ; even then , it muft do more hurt than good to oppofe it with the arm of flefh. For perfecution and punim- ment for the fake of opinion, feldom fail to flrengthen the party they are intended to fup- prefs ; and when opinions are combated by fuch weapons only, (which would probably be the cafe if the law were to interpofe), a fufpicion arifes in the minds of men, that no other weapons are to be had ; and therefore that the fe&ary, though deftitute of power, is not wanting in argument. Let opinions then be combated by reafon, and let ridicule be employed to expofe nonfenfe. And to keep our licentious authors in awe, and to make it their intereft to think before they write, to examine facts before they draw inferences, to read books before they criticife them, and to ftudy both fides of a queftion before they take it upon them to give judgement, it would not be amifs, if their vices and follies, as authors, were fometimes challifed by a fatirical fevcrity of expreffion. This is a proper puniihment for their fault ; this punifhment they certain- ly deferve ; and this it is not beneath the dig- nity of a philofopher, or divine, or any man who loves God and his fellow-creatures, to in- flict. 422 A N E S S A Y P. S. flict. Milton, Locke, Cudworth, Sidney, Tillotfon, and feveral of the greateft and beft writers of the prefent age, have fet the exam- ple j and have, I doubt not, done good by their nervous and animated expreffion, as well as by the lolidity of their arguments. This punifhment, if inflicted with discretion, might teach our licentious authors fomething of modefty, and of deference to the judge- ment of mankind ; and, it is to be hoped, would in time bring down that fpirit of pre- fumption, and affected fuperiority, which hath of late diftinguifhed their writings, and con- tributed, more perhaps than all their fubtlety and fophiftry, to the feduction of the igno- rant, the unwary, and the fafhionable. It is true, the beft of caufes may be pleaded with an excels of warmth ; as when the advocate is fo blinded by his zeal, as to lofe fight of his argument ; or as when, in order to render his adverfaries odious, he alludes to fuch particu- lars of their character or private hiftory as are not to be gathered from their writings. The former fault never fails to injure the caufe which the writer means to defend : the latter which is properly termed perfon(il abufe^ is in itfelf fo hateful, that eveiy perfon of common prudence would be inclined to avoid it for his own fake, even though he were not reftrained by more weighty motives. If an author's writ- ings be fubverfive of virtue, and dangerous to private happinefs, and the public good, we ought to hold them in deteflation, and, in or- der to counteract their baneful tendency, to endeavour P. S. O N T R U T H. 423 endeavour to render them deteftable in the eyes of others j thus far we aft the part of honeft men, and good citizens : but with his private hiftory we have no concern ; nor with his cha- racter, except fo far as he has thought proper to fubmit to the public judgement, by difplay- ing it in his works. When thefe are of that peculiar fort, that we cannot expofe them in their proper colours, without reflecting on his abilities and moral character, we ought by no means to facrifice our love of truth and man- kind to a complaifance, which, if we are what we pretend to be, and ought to be, would be hypocritical at beft, as well as mockery of the public, and treachery to our caufe. The good of fociety is always to be confulered as a mat- ter of higher importance than the gratification of an author's vanity. If he does not think of this in time, and take care that the latter be confiftent with the former, he has himfelf to blame for all the confequences. The feverity of Collier's attack upon the ftage, in the end of the laft century, was, even in the judge- ment of one * who thought it exceflive, and who will not be fufpefted of partiality to that author's doftrine, productive of veiy good ef- fects ; as it obliged the fucceeding dramatic po- ets to curb that propenfion to indecency, which had carried fome of their predeceHbrs fo far be- yond the bounds of good tafte and good man- ners. If we are not permitted to anfwer the objections of the inridel as plainly, and with as little referve, as he makes them, we engage him * Colley Gibber. See his Apology, vol. i. p. 201. 4 24 AN ESSAY, &c. P. S. him on unequal terms. And many will be difpofed to think moft favourably of that caufe, whofe adherents difplay the greateft ardour ; and fome, perhaps, may be tempted to impute to timidity, or to a fecret diffidence of our prin- ciples, what might have been owing to a much more pardonable weaknefs. For my own part, though I have always been, and (hall always be, happy in applaud- ing excellence where-ever I find it ; yet neither the pomp of wealth nor the dignity of office, neither the frown of the great nor the fneer of the fafhionable, neither the fciolift's clamour nor the profligate's refentment, fhall ever footh or frighten me into an admiration, real or pre- tended, of impious tenets, fophiftical reafon- ing, or that paltry metaphyfic with which lite- rature has been fo difgraced and peftered of late years. I am not fo much addifted to contro- verfy, as ever to enter into any but what I judge to be of very great importance; and into fuch controverfy I cannot, I will not, enter with coldnefs and unconcern. If I fhould, I might pleafe a party, but I muft offend the public ; I might efcape the cenfure of thofe whofe praife I would not value, but I fhould juftly forfeit the efleem of good men, and incur the difap- probation of my own confcience. 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