AN ENQUIRY CONCERNING HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. BY DAVID HUME Extracted from:Enquiries Concerning the Human Understanding, and Concerning thePrinciples of Morals, By David Hume. Reprinted from The Posthumous Edition of 1777, and Edited withIntroduction, Comparative Tables of Contents, and Analytical Indexby L. A. Selby-Bigge, M. A. , Late Fellow of University College, Oxford. Second Edition, 1902 CONTENTS I. Of the different Species of Philosophy II. Of the Origin of Ideas III. Of the Association of Ideas IV. Sceptical Doubts concerning the Operations of the Understanding V. Sceptical Solution of these Doubts VI. Of Probability VII. Of the Idea of necessary Connexion VIII. Of Liberty and Necessity IX. Of the Reason of Animals X. Of Miracles XI. Of a particular Providence and of a future State XII. Of the academical or sceptical Philosophy INDEX SECTION I. OF THE DIFFERENT SPECIES OF PHILOSOPHY. 1. Moral philosophy, or the science of human nature, may be treatedafter two different manners; each of which has its peculiar merit, andmay contribute to the entertainment, instruction, and reformation ofmankind. The one considers man chiefly as born for action; and asinfluenced in his measures by taste and sentiment; pursuing one object, and avoiding another, according to the value which these objects seem topossess, and according to the light in which they present themselves. Asvirtue, of all objects, is allowed to be the most valuable, this speciesof philosophers paint her in the most amiable colours; borrowing allhelps from poetry and eloquence, and treating their subject in an easyand obvious manner, and such as is best fitted to please theimagination, and engage the affections. They select the most strikingobservations and instances from common life; place opposite charactersin a proper contrast; and alluring us into the paths of virtue by theviews of glory and happiness, direct our steps in these paths by thesoundest precepts and most illustrious examples. They make us _feel_ thedifference between vice and virtue; they excite and regulate oursentiments; and so they can but bend our hearts to the love of probityand true honour, they think, that they have fully attained the end ofall their labours. 2. The other species of philosophers consider man in the light of areasonable rather than an active being, and endeavour to form hisunderstanding more than cultivate his manners. They regard human natureas a subject of speculation; and with a narrow scrutiny examine it, inorder to find those principles, which regulate our understanding, exciteour sentiments, and make us approve or blame any particular object, action, or behaviour. They think it a reproach to all literature, thatphilosophy should not yet have fixed, beyond controversy, the foundationof morals, reasoning, and criticism; and should for ever talk of truthand falsehood, vice and virtue, beauty and deformity, without being ableto determine the source of these distinctions. While they attempt thisarduous task, they are deterred by no difficulties; but proceeding fromparticular instances to general principles, they still push on theirenquiries to principles more general, and rest not satisfied till theyarrive at those original principles, by which, in every science, allhuman curiosity must be bounded. Though their speculations seemabstract, and even unintelligible to common readers, they aim at theapprobation of the learned and the wise; and think themselvessufficiently compensated for the labour of their whole lives, if theycan discover some hidden truths, which may contribute to the instructionof posterity. 3. It is certain that the easy and obvious philosophy will always, withthe generality of mankind, have the preference above the accurate andabstruse; and by many will be recommended, not only as more agreeable, but more useful than the other. It enters more into common life; mouldsthe heart and affections; and, by touching those principles whichactuate men, reforms their conduct, and brings them nearer to that modelof perfection which it describes. On the contrary, the abstrusephilosophy, being founded on a turn of mind, which cannot enter intobusiness and action, vanishes when the philosopher leaves the shade, andcomes into open day; nor can its principles easily retain any influenceover our conduct and behaviour. The feelings of our heart, the agitationof our passions, the vehemence of our affections, dissipate all itsconclusions, and reduce the profound philosopher to a mere plebeian. 4. This also must be confessed, that the most durable, as well asjustest fame, has been acquired by the easy philosophy, and thatabstract reasoners seem hitherto to have enjoyed only a momentaryreputation, from the caprice or ignorance of their own age, but have notbeen able to support their renown with more equitable posterity. It iseasy for a profound philosopher to commit a mistake in his subtilereasonings; and one mistake is the necessary parent of another, while hepushes on his consequences, and is not deterred from embracing anyconclusion, by its unusual appearance, or its contradiction to popularopinion. But a philosopher, who purposes only to represent the commonsense of mankind in more beautiful and more engaging colours, if byaccident he falls into error, goes no farther; but renewing his appealto common sense, and the natural sentiments of the mind, returns intothe right path, and secures himself from any dangerous illusions. Thefame of Cicero flourishes at present; but that of Aristotle is utterlydecayed. La Bruyere passes the seas, and still maintains his reputation:But the glory of Malebranche is confined to his own nation, and to hisown age. And Addison, perhaps, will be read with pleasure, when Lockeshall be entirely forgotten. The mere philosopher is a character, which is commonly but littleacceptable in the world, as being supposed to contribute nothing eitherto the advantage or pleasure of society; while he lives remote fromcommunication with mankind, and is wrapped up in principles and notionsequally remote from their comprehension. On the other hand, the mereignorant is still more despised; nor is any thing deemed a surer sign ofan illiberal genius in an age and nation where the sciences flourish, than to be entirely destitute of all relish for those nobleentertainments. The most perfect character is supposed to lie betweenthose extremes; retaining an equal ability and taste for books, company, and business; preserving in conversation that discernment and delicacywhich arise from polite letters; and in business, that probity andaccuracy which are the natural result of a just philosophy. In order todiffuse and cultivate so accomplished a character, nothing can be moreuseful than compositions of the easy style and manner, which draw nottoo much from life, require no deep application or retreat to becomprehended, and send back the student among mankind full of noblesentiments and wise precepts, applicable to every exigence of humanlife. By means of such compositions, virtue becomes amiable, scienceagreeable, company instructive, and retirement entertaining. Man is a reasonable being; and as such, receives from science his properfood and nourishment: But so narrow are the bounds of humanunderstanding, that little satisfaction can be hoped for in thisparticular, either from the extent of security or his acquisitions. Manis a sociable, no less than a reasonable being: But neither can healways enjoy company agreeable and amusing, or preserve the properrelish for them. Man is also an active being; and from that disposition, as well as from the various necessities of human life, must submit tobusiness and occupation: But the mind requires some relaxation, andcannot always support its bent to care and industry. It seems, then, that nature has pointed out a mixed kind of life as most suitable to thehuman race, and secretly admonished them to allow none of these biassesto _draw_ too much, so as to incapacitate them for other occupations andentertainments. Indulge your passion for science, says she, but let yourscience be human, and such as may have a direct reference to action andsociety. Abstruse thought and profound researches I prohibit, and willseverely punish, by the pensive melancholy which they introduce, by theendless uncertainty in which they involve you, and by the cold receptionwhich your pretended discoveries shall meet with, when communicated. Bea philosopher; but, amidst all your philosophy, be still a man. 5. Were the generality of mankind contented to prefer the easyphilosophy to the abstract and profound, without throwing any blame orcontempt on the latter, it might not be improper, perhaps, to complywith this general opinion, and allow every man to enjoy, withoutopposition, his own taste and sentiment. But as the matter is oftencarried farther, even to the absolute rejecting of all profoundreasonings, or what is commonly called _metaphysics_, we shall nowproceed to consider what can reasonably be pleaded in their behalf. We may begin with observing, that one considerable advantage, whichresults from the accurate and abstract philosophy, is, its subserviencyto the easy and humane; which, without the former, can never attain asufficient degree of exactness in its sentiments, precepts, orreasonings. All polite letters are nothing but pictures of human life invarious attitudes and situations; and inspire us with differentsentiments, of praise or blame, admiration or ridicule, according to thequalities of the object, which they set before us. An artist must bebetter qualified to succeed in this undertaking, who, besides a delicatetaste and a quick apprehension, possesses an accurate knowledge of theinternal fabric, the operations of the understanding, the workings ofthe passions, and the various species of sentiment which discriminatevice and virtue. How painful soever this inward search or enquiry mayappear, it becomes, in some measure, requisite to those, who woulddescribe with success the obvious and outward appearances of life andmanners. The anatomist presents to the eye the most hideous anddisagreeable objects; but his science is useful to the painter indelineating even a Venus or an Helen. While the latter employs all therichest colours of his art, and gives his figures the most graceful andengaging airs; he must still carry his attention to the inward structureof the human body, the position of the muscles, the fabric of the bones, and the use and figure of every part or organ. Accuracy is, in everycase, advantageous to beauty, and just reasoning to delicate sentiment. In vain would we exalt the one by depreciating the other. Besides, we may observe, in every art or profession, even those whichmost concern life or action, that a spirit of accuracy, howeveracquired, carries all of them nearer their perfection, and renders themmore subservient to the interests of society. And though a philosophermay live remote from business, the genius of philosophy, if carefullycultivated by several, must gradually diffuse itself throughout thewhole society, and bestow a similar correctness on every art andcalling. The politician will acquire greater foresight and subtility, inthe subdividing and balancing of power; the lawyer more method and finerprinciples in his reasonings; and the general more regularity in hisdiscipline, and more caution in his plans and operations. The stabilityof modern governments above the ancient, and the accuracy of modernphilosophy, have improved, and probably will still improve, by similargradations. 6. Were there no advantage to be reaped from these studies, beyond thegratification of an innocent curiosity, yet ought not even this to bedespised; as being one accession to those few safe and harmlesspleasures, which are bestowed on human race. The sweetest and mostinoffensive path of life leads through the avenues of science andlearning; and whoever can either remove any obstructions in this way, oropen up any new prospect, ought so far to be esteemed a benefactor tomankind. And though these researches may appear painful and fatiguing, it is with some minds as with some bodies, which being endowed withvigorous and florid health, require severe exercise, and reap a pleasurefrom what, to the generality of mankind, may seem burdensome andlaborious. Obscurity, indeed, is painful to the mind as well as to theeye; but to bring light from obscurity, by whatever labour, must needsbe delightful and rejoicing. But this obscurity in the profound and abstract philosophy, is objectedto, not only as painful and fatiguing, but as the inevitable source ofuncertainty and error. Here indeed lies the justest and most plausibleobjection against a considerable part of metaphysics, that they are notproperly a science; but arise either from the fruitless efforts of humanvanity, which would penetrate into subjects utterly inaccessible to theunderstanding, or from the craft of popular superstitions, which, beingunable to defend themselves on fair ground, raise these intanglingbrambles to cover and protect their weakness. Chaced from the opencountry, these robbers fly into the forest, and lie in wait to break inupon every unguarded avenue of the mind, and overwhelm it with religiousfears and prejudices. The stoutest antagonist, if he remit his watch amoment, is oppressed. And many, through cowardice and folly, open thegates to the enemies, and willingly receive them with reverence andsubmission, as their legal sovereigns. 7. But is this a sufficient reason, why philosophers should desist fromsuch researches, and leave superstition still in possession of herretreat? Is it not proper to draw an opposite conclusion, and perceivethe necessity of carrying the war into the most secret recesses of theenemy? In vain do we hope, that men, from frequent disappointment, willat last abandon such airy sciences, and discover the proper province ofhuman reason. For, besides, that many persons find too sensible aninterest in perpetually recalling such topics; besides this, I say, themotive of blind despair can never reasonably have place in the sciences;since, however unsuccessful former attempts may have proved, there isstill room to hope, that the industry, good fortune, or improvedsagacity of succeeding generations may reach discoveries unknown toformer ages. Each adventurous genius will still leap at the arduousprize, and find himself stimulated, rather that discouraged, by thefailures of his predecessors; while he hopes that the glory of achievingso hard an adventure is reserved for him alone. The only method offreeing learning, at once, from these abstruse questions, is to enquireseriously into the nature of human understanding, and show, from anexact analysis of its powers and capacity, that it is by no means fittedfor such remote and abstruse subjects. We must submit to this fatigue, in order to live at ease ever after: And must cultivate true metaphysicswith some care, in order to destroy the false and adulterate. Indolence, which, to some persons, affords a safeguard against this deceitfulphilosophy, is, with others, overbalanced by curiosity; and despair, which, at some moments, prevails, may give place afterwards to sanguinehopes and expectations. Accurate and just reasoning is the only catholicremedy, fitted for all persons and all dispositions; and is alone ableto subvert that abstruse philosophy and metaphysical jargon, which, being mixed up with popular superstition, renders it in a mannerimpenetrable to careless reasoners, and gives it the air of scienceand wisdom. 8. Besides this advantage of rejecting, after deliberate enquiry, themost uncertain and disagreeable part of learning, there are manypositive advantages, which result from an accurate scrutiny into thepowers and faculties of human nature. It is remarkable concerning theoperations of the mind, that, though most intimately present to us, yet, whenever they become the object of reflexion, they seem involved inobscurity; nor can the eye readily find those lines and boundaries, which discriminate and distinguish them. The objects are too fine toremain long in the same aspect or situation; and must be apprehended inan instant, by a superior penetration, derived from nature, and improvedby habit and reflexion. It becomes, therefore, no inconsiderable part ofscience barely to know the different operations of the mind, to separatethem from each other, to class them under their proper heads, and tocorrect all that seeming disorder, in which they lie involved, when madethe object of reflexion and enquiry. This talk of ordering anddistinguishing, which has no merit, when performed with regard toexternal bodies, the objects of our senses, rises in its value, whendirected towards the operations of the mind, in proportion to thedifficulty and labour, which we meet with in performing it. And if wecan go no farther than this mental geography, or delineation of thedistinct parts and powers of the mind, it is at least a satisfaction togo so far; and the more obvious this science may appear (and it is by nomeans obvious) the more contemptible still must the ignorance of it beesteemed, in all pretenders to learning and philosophy. Nor can there remain any suspicion, that this science is uncertain andchimerical; unless we should entertain such a scepticism as is entirelysubversive of all speculation, and even action. It cannot be doubted, that the mind is endowed with several powers and faculties, that thesepowers are distinct from each other, that what is really distinct to theimmediate perception may be distinguished by reflexion; andconsequently, that there is a truth and falsehood in all propositions onthis subject, and a truth and falsehood, which lie not beyond thecompass of human understanding. There are many obvious distinctions ofthis kind, such as those between the will and understanding, theimagination and passions, which fall within the comprehension of everyhuman creature; and the finer and more philosophical distinctions are noless real and certain, though more difficult to be comprehended. Someinstances, especially late ones, of success in these enquiries, may giveus a juster notion of the certainty and solidity of this branch oflearning. And shall we esteem it worthy the labour of a philosopher togive us a true system of the planets, and adjust the position and orderof those remote bodies; while we affect to overlook those, who, with somuch success, delineate the parts of the mind, in which we are sointimately concerned? 9. But may we not hope, that philosophy, if cultivated with care, andencouraged by the attention of the public, may carry its researchesstill farther, and discover, at least in some degree, the secret springsand principles, by which the human mind is actuated in its operations?Astronomers had long contented themselves with proving, from thephaenomena, the true motions, order, and magnitude of the heavenlybodies: Till a philosopher, at last, arose, who seems, from the happiestreasoning, to have also determined the laws and forces, by which therevolutions of the planets are governed and directed. The like has beenperformed with regard to other parts of nature. And there is no reasonto despair of equal success in our enquiries concerning the mentalpowers and economy, if prosecuted with equal capacity and caution. It isprobable, that one operation and principle of the mind depends onanother; which, again, may be resolved into one more general anduniversal: And how far these researches may possibly be carried, it willbe difficult for us, before, or even after, a careful trial, exactly todetermine. This is certain, that attempts of this kind are every daymade even by those who philosophize the most negligently: And nothingcan be more requisite than to enter upon the enterprize with thoroughcare and attention; that, if it lie within the compass of humanunderstanding, it may at last be happily achieved; if not, it may, however, be rejected with some confidence and security. This lastconclusion, surely, is not desirable; nor ought it to be embraced toorashly. For how much must we diminish from the beauty and value of thisspecies of philosophy, upon such a supposition? Moralists have hithertobeen accustomed, when they considered the vast multitude and diversityof those actions that excite our approbation or dislike, to search forsome common principle, on which this variety of sentiments might depend. And though they have sometimes carried the matter too far, by theirpassion for some one general principle; it must, however, be confessed, that they are excusable in expecting to find some general principles, into which all the vices and virtues were justly to be resolved. Thelike has been the endeavour of critics, logicians, and even politicians:Nor have their attempts been wholly unsuccessful; though perhaps longertime, greater accuracy, and more ardent application may bring thesesciences still nearer their perfection. To throw up at once allpretensions of this kind may justly be deemed more rash, precipitate, and dogmatical, than even the boldest and most affirmative philosophy, that has ever attempted to impose its crude dictates and principleson mankind. 10. What though these reasonings concerning human nature seem abstract, and of difficult comprehension? This affords no presumption of theirfalsehood. On the contrary, it seems impossible, that what has hithertoescaped so many wise and profound philosophers can be very obvious andeasy. And whatever pains these researches may cost us, we may thinkourselves sufficiently rewarded, not only in point of profit but ofpleasure, if, by that means, we can make any addition to our stock ofknowledge, in subjects of such unspeakable importance. But as, after all, the abstractedness of these speculations is norecommendation, but rather a disadvantage to them, and as thisdifficulty may perhaps be surmounted by care and art, and the avoidingof all unnecessary detail, we have, in the following enquiry, attemptedto throw some light upon subjects, from which uncertainty has hithertodeterred the wise, and obscurity the ignorant. Happy, if we can unitethe boundaries of the different species of philosophy, by reconcilingprofound enquiry with clearness, and truth with novelty! And still morehappy, if, reasoning in this easy manner, we can undermine thefoundations of an abstruse philosophy, which seems to have hithertoserved only as a shelter to superstition, and a cover to absurdityand error! SECTION II. OF THE ORIGIN OF IDEAS. 11. Every one will readily allow, that there is a considerabledifference between the perceptions of the mind, when a man feels thepain of excessive heat, or the pleasure of moderate warmth, and when heafterwards recalls to his memory this sensation, or anticipates it byhis imagination. These faculties may mimic or copy the perceptions ofthe senses; but they never can entirely reach the force and vivacity ofthe original sentiment. The utmost we say of them, even when theyoperate with greatest vigour, is, that they represent their object in solively a manner, that we could _almost_ say we feel or see it: But, except the mind be disordered by disease or madness, they never canarrive at such a pitch of vivacity, as to render these perceptionsaltogether undistinguishable. All the colours of poetry, howeversplendid, can never paint natural objects in such a manner as to makethe description be taken for a real landskip. The most lively thought isstill inferior to the dullest sensation. We may observe a like distinction to run through all the otherperceptions of the mind. A man in a fit of anger, is actuated in a verydifferent manner from one who only thinks of that emotion. If you tellme, that any person is in love, I easily understand your meaning, andform a just conception of his situation; but never can mistake thatconception for the real disorders and agitations of the passion. When wereflect on our past sentiments and affections, our thought is a faithfulmirror, and copies its objects truly; but the colours which it employsare faint and dull, in comparison of those in which our originalperceptions were clothed. It requires no nice discernment ormetaphysical head to mark the distinction between them. 12. Here therefore we may divide all the perceptions of the mind intotwo classes or species, which are distinguished by their differentdegrees of force and vivacity. The less forcible and lively are commonlydenominated _Thoughts_ or _Ideas_. The other species want a name in ourlanguage, and in most others; I suppose, because it was not requisitefor any, but philosophical purposes, to rank them under a general termor appellation. Let us, therefore, use a little freedom, and call them_Impressions_; employing that word in a sense somewhat different fromthe usual. By the term _impression_, then, I mean all our more livelyperceptions, when we hear, or see, or feel, or love, or hate, or desire, or will. And impressions are distinguished from ideas, which are theless lively perceptions, of which we are conscious, when we reflect onany of those sensations or movements above mentioned. 13. Nothing, at first view, may seem more unbounded than the thought ofman, which not only escapes all human power and authority, but is noteven restrained within the limits of nature and reality. To formmonsters, and join incongruous shapes and appearances, costs theimagination no more trouble than to conceive the most natural andfamiliar objects. And while the body is confined to one planet, alongwhich it creeps with pain and difficulty; the thought can in an instanttransport us into the most distant regions of the universe; or evenbeyond the universe, into the unbounded chaos, where nature is supposedto lie in total confusion. What never was seen, or heard of, may yet beconceived; nor is any thing beyond the power of thought, except whatimplies an absolute contradiction. But though our thought seems to possess this unbounded liberty, we shallfind, upon a nearer examination, that it is really confined within verynarrow limits, and that all this creative power of the mind amounts tono more than the faculty of compounding, transposing, augmenting, ordiminishing the materials afforded us by the senses and experience. Whenwe think of a golden mountain, we only join two consistent ideas, _gold_, and _mountain_, with which we were formerly acquainted. Avirtuous horse we can conceive; because, from our own feeling, we canconceive virtue; and this we may unite to the figure and shape of ahorse, which is an animal familiar to us. In short, all the materials ofthinking are derived either from our outward or inward sentiment: themixture and composition of these belongs alone to the mind and will. Or, to express myself in philosophical language, all our ideas or morefeeble perceptions are copies of our impressions or more lively ones. 14. To prove this, the two following arguments will, I hope, besufficient. First, when we analyze our thoughts or ideas, howevercompounded or sublime, we always find that they resolve themselves intosuch simple ideas as were copied from a precedent feeling or sentiment. Even those ideas, which, at first view, seem the most wide of thisorigin, are found, upon a nearer scrutiny, to be derived from it. Theidea of God, as meaning an infinitely intelligent, wise, and good Being, arises from reflecting on the operations of our own mind, andaugmenting, without limit, those qualities of goodness and wisdom. Wemay prosecute this enquiry to what length we please; where we shallalways find, that every idea which we examine is copied from a similarimpression. Those who would assert that this position is not universallytrue nor without exception, have only one, and that an easy method ofrefuting it; by producing that idea, which, in their opinion, is notderived from this source. It will then be incumbent on us, if we wouldmaintain our doctrine, to produce the impression, or lively perception, which corresponds to it. 15. Secondly. If it happen, from a defect of the organ, that a man isnot susceptible of any species of sensation, we always find that he isas little susceptible of the correspondent ideas. A blind man can formno notion of colours; a deaf man of sounds. Restore either of them thatsense in which he is deficient; by opening this new inlet for hissensations, you also open an inlet for the ideas; and he finds nodifficulty in conceiving these objects. The case is the same, if theobject, proper for exciting any sensation, has never been applied to theorgan. A Laplander or Negro has no notion of the relish of wine. Andthough there are few or no instances of a like deficiency in the mind, where a person has never felt or is wholly incapable of a sentiment orpassion that belongs to his species; yet we find the same observation totake place in a less degree. A man of mild manners can form no idea ofinveterate revenge or cruelty; nor can a selfish heart easily conceivethe heights of friendship and generosity. It is readily allowed, thatother beings may possess many senses of which we can have no conception;because the ideas of them have never been introduced to us in the onlymanner by which an idea can have access to the mind, to wit, by theactual feeling and sensation. 16. There is, however, one contradictory phenomenon, which may provethat it is not absolutely impossible for ideas to arise, independent oftheir correspondent impressions. I believe it will readily be allowed, that the several distinct ideas of colour, which enter by the eye, orthose of sound, which are conveyed by the ear, are really different fromeach other; though, at the same time, resembling. Now if this be true ofdifferent colours, it must be no less so of the different shades of thesame colour; and each shade produces a distinct idea, independent of therest. For if this should be denied, it is possible, by the continualgradation of shades, to run a colour insensibly into what is most remotefrom it; and if you will not allow any of the means to be different, youcannot, without absurdity, deny the extremes to be the same. Suppose, therefore, a person to have enjoyed his sight for thirty years, and tohave become perfectly acquainted with colours of all kinds except oneparticular shade of blue, for instance, which it never has been hisfortune to meet with. Let all the different shades of that colour, except that single one, be placed before him, descending gradually fromthe deepest to the lightest; it is plain that he will perceive a blank, where that shade is wanting, and will be sensible that there is agreater distance in that place between the contiguous colours than inany other. Now I ask, whether it be possible for him, from his ownimagination, to supply this deficiency, and raise up to himself the ideaof that particular shade, though it had never been conveyed to him byhis senses? I believe there are few but will be of opinion that he can:and this may serve as a proof that the simple ideas are not always, inevery instance, derived from the correspondent impressions; though thisinstance is so singular, that it is scarcely worth our observing, anddoes not merit that for it alone we should alter our general maxim. 17. Here, therefore, is a proposition, which not only seems, in itself, simple and intelligible; but, if a proper use were made of it, mightrender every dispute equally intelligible, and banish all that jargon, which has so long taken possession of metaphysical reasonings, and drawndisgrace upon them. All ideas, especially abstract ones, are naturallyfaint and obscure: the mind has but a slender hold of them: they are aptto be confounded with other resembling ideas; and when we have oftenemployed any term, though without a distinct meaning, we are apt toimagine it has a determinate idea annexed to it. On the contrary, allimpressions, that is, all sensations, either outward or inward, arestrong and vivid: the limits between them are more exactly determined:nor is it easy to fall into any error or mistake with regard to them. When we entertain, therefore, any suspicion that a philosophical term isemployed without any meaning or idea (as is but too frequent), we needbut enquire, _from what impression is that supposed idea derived_? Andif it be impossible to assign any, this will serve to confirm oursuspicion. By bringing ideas into so clear a light we may reasonablyhope to remove all dispute, which may arise, concerning their nature andreality. [1] [1] It is probable that no more was meant by those, who denied innate ideas, than that all ideas were copies of our impressions; though it must be confessed, that the terms, which they employed, were not chosen with such caution, nor so exactly defined, as to prevent all mistakes about their doctrine. For what is meant by _innate_? If innate be equivalent to natural, then all the perceptions and ideas of the mind must be allowed to be innate or natural, in whatever sense we take the latter word, whether in opposition to what is uncommon, artificial, or miraculous. If by innate be meant, contemporary to our birth, the dispute seems to be frivolous; nor is it worth while to enquire at what time thinking begins, whether before, at, or after our birth. Again, the word _idea_, seems to be commonly taken in a very loose sense, by LOCKE and others; as standing for any of our perceptions, our sensations and passions, as well as thoughts. Now in this sense, I should desire to know, what can be meant by asserting, that self-love, or resentment of injuries, or the passion between the sexes is not innate? But admitting these terms, _impressions_ and _ideas_, in the sense above explained, and understanding by _innate_, what is original or copied from no precedent perception, then may we assert that all our impressions are innate, and our ideas not innate. To be ingenuous, I must own it to be my opinion, that LOCKE was betrayed into this question by the schoolmen, who, making use of undefined terms, draw out their disputes to a tedious length, without ever touching the point in question. A like ambiguity and circumlocution seem to run through that philosopher's reasonings on this as well as most other subjects. SECTION III. OF THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 18. It is evident that there is a principle of connexion between thedifferent thoughts or ideas of the mind, and that, in their appearanceto the memory or imagination, they introduce each other with a certaindegree of method and regularity. In our more serious thinking ordiscourse this is so observable that any particular thought, whichbreaks in upon the regular tract or chain of ideas, is immediatelyremarked and rejected. And even in our wildest and most wanderingreveries, nay in our very dreams, we shall find, if we reflect, that theimagination ran not altogether at adventures, but that there was still aconnexion upheld among the different ideas, which succeeded each other. Were the loosest and freest conversation to be transcribed, there wouldimmediately be observed something which connected it in all itstransitions. Or where this is wanting, the person who broke the threadof discourse might still inform you, that there had secretly revolved inhis mind a succession of thought, which had gradually led him from thesubject of conversation. Among different languages, even where we cannotsuspect the least connexion or communication, it is found, that thewords, expressive of ideas, the most compounded, do yet nearlycorrespond to each other: a certain proof that the simple ideas, comprehended in the compound ones, were bound together by some universalprinciple, which had an equal influence on all mankind. 19. Though it be too obvious to escape observation, that different ideasare connected together; I do not find that any philosopher has attemptedto enumerate or class all the principles of association; a subject, however, that seems worthy of curiosity. To me, there appear to be onlythree principles of connexion among ideas, namely, _Resemblance_, _Contiguity_ in time or place, and _Cause or Effect_. That these principles serve to connect ideas will not, I believe, bemuch doubted. A picture naturally leads our thoughts to the original[2]:the mention of one apartment in a building naturally introduces anenquiry or discourse concerning the others[3]: and if we think of awound, we can scarcely forbear reflecting on the pain which followsit[4]. But that this enumeration is complete, and that there are noother principles of association except these, may be difficult to proveto the satisfaction of the reader, or even to a man's own satisfaction. All we can do, in such cases, is to run over several instances, andexamine carefully the principle which binds the different thoughts toeach other, never stopping till we render the principle as general aspossible[5]. The more instances we examine, and the more care we employ, the more assurance shall we acquire, that the enumeration, which we formfrom the whole, is complete and entire. [2] Resemblance. [3] Contiguity. [4] Cause and effect. [5] For instance, Contrast or Contrariety is also a connexion among Ideas: but it may, perhaps, be considered as a mixture of _Causation_ and _Resemblance_. Where two objects are contrary, the one destroys the other; that is, the cause of its annihilation, and the idea of the annihilation of an object, implies the idea of its former existence. SECTION IV. SCEPTICAL DOUBTS CONCERNING THE OPERATIONS OF THE UNDERSTANDING. PART I. 20. All the objects of human reason or enquiry may naturally be dividedinto two kinds, to wit, _Relations of Ideas_, and _Matters of Fact_. Ofthe first kind are the sciences of Geometry, Algebra, and Arithmetic;and in short, every affirmation which is either intuitively ordemonstratively certain. _That the square of the hypothenuse is equal tothe square of the two sides_, is a proposition which expresses arelation between these figures. _That three times five is equal to thehalf of thirty_, expresses a relation between these numbers. Propositions of this kind are discoverable by the mere operation ofthought, without dependence on what is anywhere existent in theuniverse. Though there never were a circle or triangle in nature, thetruths demonstrated by Euclid would for ever retain their certaintyand evidence. 21. Matters of fact, which are the second objects of human reason, arenot ascertained in the same manner; nor is our evidence of their truth, however great, of a like nature with the foregoing. The contrary ofevery matter of fact is still possible; because it can never imply acontradiction, and is conceived by the mind with the same facility anddistinctness, as if ever so conformable to reality. _That the sun willnot rise to-morrow_ is no less intelligible a proposition, and impliesno more contradiction than the affirmation, _that it will rise_. Weshould in vain, therefore, attempt to demonstrate its falsehood. Were itdemonstratively false, it would imply a contradiction, and could neverbe distinctly conceived by the mind. It may, therefore, be a subject worthy of curiosity, to enquire what isthe nature of that evidence which assures us of any real existence andmatter of fact, beyond the present testimony of our senses, or therecords of our memory. This part of philosophy, it is observable, hasbeen little cultivated, either by the ancients or moderns; and thereforeour doubts and errors, in the prosecution of so important an enquiry, may be the more excusable; while we march through such difficult pathswithout any guide or direction. They may even prove useful, by excitingcuriosity, and destroying that implicit faith and security, which is thebane of all reasoning and free enquiry. The discovery of defects in thecommon philosophy, if any such there be, will not, I presume, be adiscouragement, but rather an incitement, as is usual, to attemptsomething more full and satisfactory than has yet been proposed tothe public. 22. All reasonings concerning matter of fact seem to be founded on therelation of _Cause and Effect_. By means of that relation alone we cango beyond the evidence of our memory and senses. If you were to ask aman, why he believes any matter of fact, which is absent; for instance, that his friend is in the country, or in France; he would give you areason; and this reason would be some other fact; as a letter receivedfrom him, or the knowledge of his former resolutions and promises. A manfinding a watch or any other machine in a desert island, would concludethat there had once been men in that island. All our reasoningsconcerning fact are of the same nature. And here it is constantlysupposed that there is a connexion between the present fact and thatwhich is inferred from it. Were there nothing to bind them together, theinference would be entirely precarious. The hearing of an articulatevoice and rational discourse in the dark assures us of the presence ofsome person: Why? because these are the effects of the human make andfabric, and closely connected with it. If we anatomize all the otherreasonings of this nature, we shall find that they are founded on therelation of cause and effect, and that this relation is either near orremote, direct or collateral. Heat and light are collateral effects offire, and the one effect may justly be inferred from the other. 23. If we would satisfy ourselves, therefore, concerning the nature ofthat evidence, which assures us of matters of fact, we must enquire howwe arrive at the knowledge of cause and effect. I shall venture to affirm, as a general proposition, which admits of noexception, that the knowledge of this relation is not, in any instance, attained by reasonings _a priori_; but arises entirely from experience, when we find that any particular objects are constantly conjoined witheach other. Let an object be presented to a man of ever so strongnatural reason and abilities; if that object be entirely new to him, hewill not be able, by the most accurate examination of its sensiblequalities, to discover any of its causes or effects. Adam, though hisrational faculties be supposed, at the very first, entirely perfect, could not have inferred from the fluidity and transparency of water thatit would suffocate him, or from the light and warmth of fire that itwould consume him. No object ever discovers, by the qualities whichappear to the senses, either the causes which produced it, or theeffects which will arise from it; nor can our reason, unassisted byexperience, ever draw any inference concerning real existence andmatter of fact. 24. This proposition, _that causes and effects are discoverable, not byreason but by experience_, will readily be admitted with regard to suchobjects, as we remember to have once been altogether unknown to us;since we must be conscious of the utter inability, which we then layunder, of foretelling what would arise from them. Present two smoothpieces of marble to a man who has no tincture of natural philosophy; hewill never discover that they will adhere together in such a manner asto require great force to separate them in a direct line, while theymake so small a resistance to a lateral pressure. Such events, as bearlittle analogy to the common course of nature, are also readilyconfessed to be known only by experience; nor does any man imagine thatthe explosion of gunpowder, or the attraction of a loadstone, could everbe discovered by arguments _a priori_. In like manner, when an effect issupposed to depend upon an intricate machinery or secret structure ofparts, we make no difficulty in attributing all our knowledge of it toexperience. Who will assert that he can give the ultimate reason, whymilk or bread is proper nourishment for a man, not for a lion ora tiger? But the same truth may not appear, at first sight, to have the sameevidence with regard to events, which have become familiar to us fromour first appearance in the world, which bear a close analogy to thewhole course of nature, and which are supposed to depend on the simplequalities of objects, without any secret structure of parts. We are aptto imagine that we could discover these effects by the mere operation ofour reason, without experience. We fancy, that were we brought on asudden into this world, we could at first have inferred that oneBilliard-ball would communicate motion to another upon impulse; and thatwe needed not to have waited for the event, in order to pronounce withcertainty concerning it. Such is the influence of custom, that, where itis strongest, it not only covers our natural ignorance, but evenconceals itself, and seems not to take place, merely because it is foundin the highest degree. 25. But to convince us that all the laws of nature, and all theoperations of bodies without exception, are known only by experience, the following reflections may, perhaps, suffice. Were any objectpresented to us, and were we required to pronounce concerning theeffect, which will result from it, without consulting past observation;after what manner, I beseech you, must the mind proceed in thisoperation? It must invent or imagine some event, which it ascribes tothe object as its effect; and it is plain that this invention must beentirely arbitrary. The mind can never possibly find the effect in thesupposed cause, by the most accurate scrutiny and examination. For theeffect is totally different from the cause, and consequently can neverbe discovered in it. Motion in the second Billiard-ball is a quitedistinct event from motion in the first; nor is there anything in theone to suggest the smallest hint of the other. A stone or piece of metalraised into the air, and left without any support, immediately falls:but to consider the matter _a priori_, is there anything we discover inthis situation which can beget the idea of a downward, rather than anupward, or any other motion, in the stone or metal? And as the firstimagination or invention of a particular effect, in all naturaloperations, is arbitrary, where we consult not experience; so must wealso esteem the supposed tie or connexion between the cause and effect, which binds them together, and renders it impossible that any othereffect could result from the operation of that cause. When I see, forinstance, a Billiard-ball moving in a straight line towards another;even suppose motion in the second ball should by accident be suggestedto me, as the result of their contact or impulse; may I not conceive, that a hundred different events might as well follow from that cause?May not both these balls remain at absolute rest? May not the first ballreturn in a straight line, or leap off from the second in any line ordirection? All these suppositions are consistent and conceivable. Whythen should we give the preference to one, which is no more consistentor conceivable than the rest? All our reasonings _a priori_ will neverbe able to show us any foundation for this preference. In a word, then, every effect is a distinct event from its cause. Itcould not, therefore, be discovered in the cause, and the firstinvention or conception of it, _a priori_, must be entirely arbitrary. And even after it is suggested, the conjunction of it with the causemust appear equally arbitrary; since there are always many othereffects, which, to reason, must seem fully as consistent and natural. Invain, therefore, should we pretend to determine any single event, orinfer any cause or effect, without the assistance of observation andexperience. 26. Hence we may discover the reason why no philosopher, who is rationaland modest, has ever pretended to assign the ultimate cause of anynatural operation, or to show distinctly the action of that power, whichproduces any single effect in the universe. It is confessed, that theutmost effort of human reason is to reduce the principles, productive ofnatural phenomena, to a greater simplicity, and to resolve the manyparticular effects into a few general causes, by means of reasoningsfrom analogy, experience, and observation. But as to the causes of thesegeneral causes, we should in vain attempt their discovery; nor shall weever be able to satisfy ourselves, by any particular explication ofthem. These ultimate springs and principles are totally shut up fromhuman curiosity and enquiry. Elasticity, gravity, cohesion of parts, communication of motion by impulse; these are probably the ultimatecauses and principles which we shall ever discover in nature; and we mayesteem ourselves sufficiently happy, if, by accurate enquiry andreasoning, we can trace up the particular phenomena to, or near to, these general principles. The most perfect philosophy of the naturalkind only staves off our ignorance a little longer: as perhaps the mostperfect philosophy of the moral or metaphysical kind serves only todiscover larger portions of it. Thus the observation of human blindnessand weakness is the result of all philosophy, and meets us at everyturn, in spite of our endeavours to elude or avoid it. 27. Nor is geometry, when taken into the assistance of naturalphilosophy, ever able to remedy this defect, or lead us into theknowledge of ultimate causes, by all that accuracy of reasoning forwhich it is so justly celebrated. Every part of mixed mathematicsproceeds upon the supposition that certain laws are established bynature in her operations; and abstract reasonings are employed, eitherto assist experience in the discovery of these laws, or to determinetheir influence in particular instances, where it depends upon anyprecise degree of distance and quantity. Thus, it is a law of motion, discovered by experience, that the moment or force of any body in motionis in the compound ratio or proportion of its solid contents and itsvelocity; and consequently, that a small force may remove the greatestobstacle or raise the greatest weight, if, by any contrivance ormachinery, we can increase the velocity of that force, so as to make itan overmatch for its antagonist. Geometry assists us in the applicationof this law, by giving us the just dimensions of all the parts andfigures which can enter into any species of machine; but still thediscovery of the law itself is owing merely to experience, and all theabstract reasonings in the world could never lead us one step towardsthe knowledge of it. When we reason _a priori_, and consider merely anyobject or cause, as it appears to the mind, independent of allobservation, it never could suggest to us the notion of any distinctobject, such as its effect; much less, show us the inseparable andinviolable connexion between them. A man must be very sagacious whocould discover by reasoning that crystal is the effect of heat, and iceof cold, without being previously acquainted with the operation of thesequalities. PART II. 28. But we have not yet attained any tolerable satisfaction with regardto the question first proposed. Each solution still gives rise to a newquestion as difficult as the foregoing, and leads us on to fartherenquiries. When it is asked, _What is the nature of all our reasoningsconcerning matter of fact?_ the proper answer seems to be, that they arefounded on the relation of cause and effect. When again it is asked, _What is the foundation of all our reasonings and conclusions concerningthat relation?_ it may be replied in one word, Experience. But if westill carry on our sifting humour, and ask, _What is the foundation ofall conclusions from experience?_ this implies a new question, which maybe of more difficult solution and explication. Philosophers, that givethemselves airs of superior wisdom and sufficiency, have a hard taskwhen they encounter persons of inquisitive dispositions, who push themfrom every corner to which they retreat, and who are sure at last tobring them to some dangerous dilemma. The best expedient to prevent thisconfusion, is to be modest in our pretensions; and even to discover thedifficulty ourselves before it is objected to us. By this means, we maymake a kind of merit of our very ignorance. I shall content myself, in this section, with an easy task, and shallpretend only to give a negative answer to the question here proposed. Isay then, that, even after we have experience of the operations of causeand effect, our conclusions from that experience are _not_ founded onreasoning, or any process of the understanding. This answer we mustendeavour both to explain and to defend. 29. It must certainly be allowed, that nature has kept us at a greatdistance from all her secrets, and has afforded us only the knowledge ofa few superficial qualities of objects; while she conceals from us thosepowers and principles on which the influence of those objects entirelydepends. Our senses inform us of the colour, weight, and consistence ofbread; but neither sense nor reason can ever inform us of thosequalities which fit it for the nourishment and support of a human body. Sight or feeling conveys an idea of the actual motion of bodies; but asto that wonderful force or power, which would carry on a moving body forever in a continued change of place, and which bodies never lose but bycommunicating it to others; of this we cannot form the most distantconception. But notwithstanding this ignorance of natural powers[6] andprinciples, we always presume, when we see like sensible qualities, thatthey have like secret powers, and expect that effects, similar to thosewhich we have experienced, will follow from them. If a body of likecolour and consistence with that bread, which we have formerly eat, bepresented to us, we make no scruple of repeating the experiment, andforesee, with certainty, like nourishment and support. Now this is aprocess of the mind or thought, of which I would willingly know thefoundation. It is allowed on all hands that there is no known connexionbetween the sensible qualities and the secret powers; and consequently, that the mind is not led to form such a conclusion concerning theirconstant and regular conjunction, by anything which it knows of theirnature. As to past _Experience_, it can be allowed to give _direct_ and_certain_ information of those precise objects only, and that preciseperiod of time, which fell under its cognizance: but why this experienceshould be extended to future times, and to other objects, which foraught we know, may be only in appearance similar; this is the mainquestion on which I would insist. The bread, which I formerly eat, nourished me; that is, a body of such sensible qualities was, at thattime, endued with such secret powers: but does it follow, that otherbread must also nourish me at another time, and that like sensiblequalities must always be attended with like secret powers? Theconsequence seems nowise necessary. At least, it must be acknowledgedthat there is here a consequence drawn by the mind; that there is acertain step taken; a process of thought, and an inference, which wantsto be explained. These two propositions are far from being the same, _Ihave found that such an object has always been attended with such aneffect_, and _I foresee, that other objects, which are, in appearance, similar, will be attended with similar effects_. I shall allow, if youplease, that the one proposition may justly be inferred from the other:I know, in fact, that it always is inferred. But if you insist that theinference is made by a chain of reasoning, I desire you to produce thatreasoning. The connexion between these propositions is not intuitive. There is required a medium, which may enable the mind to draw such aninference, if indeed it be drawn by reasoning and argument. What thatmedium is, I must confess, passes my comprehension; and it is incumbenton those to produce it, who assert that it really exists, and is theorigin of all our conclusions concerning matter of fact. [6] The word, Power, is here used in a loose and popular sense. The more accurate explication of it would give additional evidence to this argument. See Sect. 7. 30. This negative argument must certainly, in process of time, becomealtogether convincing, if many penetrating and able philosophers shallturn their enquiries this way and no one be ever able to discover anyconnecting proposition or intermediate step, which supports theunderstanding in this conclusion. But as the question is yet new, everyreader may not trust so far to his own penetration, as to conclude, because an argument escapes his enquiry, that therefore it does notreally exist. For this reason it may be requisite to venture upon a moredifficult task; and enumerating all the branches of human knowledge, endeavour to show that none of them can afford such an argument. All reasonings may be divided into two kinds, namely, demonstrativereasoning, or that concerning relations of ideas, and moral reasoning, or that concerning matter of fact and existence. That there are nodemonstrative arguments in the case seems evident; since it implies nocontradiction that the course of nature may change, and that an object, seemingly like those which we have experienced, may be attended withdifferent or contrary effects. May I not clearly and distinctly conceivethat a body, falling from the clouds, and which, in all other respects, resembles snow, has yet the taste of salt or feeling of fire? Is thereany more intelligible proposition than to affirm, that all the treeswill flourish in December and January, and decay in May and June? Nowwhatever is intelligible, and can be distinctly conceived, implies nocontradiction, and can never be proved false by any demonstrativeargument or abstract reasoning _à priori_. If we be, therefore, engaged by arguments to put trust in pastexperience, and make it the standard of our future judgement, thesearguments must be probable only, or such as regard matter of fact andreal existence, according to the division above mentioned. But thatthere is no argument of this kind, must appear, if our explication ofthat species of reasoning be admitted as solid and satisfactory. We havesaid that all arguments concerning existence are founded on the relationof cause and effect; that our knowledge of that relation is derivedentirely from experience; and that all our experimental conclusionsproceed upon the supposition that the future will be conformable to thepast. To endeavour, therefore, the proof of this last supposition byprobable arguments, or arguments regarding existence, must be evidentlygoing in a circle, and taking that for granted, which is the very pointin question. 31. In reality, all arguments from experience are founded on thesimilarity which we discover among natural objects, and by which we areinduced to expect effects similar to those which we have found to followfrom such objects. And though none but a fool or madman will everpretend to dispute the authority of experience, or to reject that greatguide of human life, it may surely be allowed a philosopher to have somuch curiosity at least as to examine the principle of human nature, which gives this mighty authority to experience, and makes us drawadvantage from that similarity which nature has placed among differentobjects. From causes which appear _similar_ we expect similar effects. This is the sum of all our experimental conclusions. Now it seemsevident that, if this conclusion were formed by reason, it would be asperfect at first, and upon one instance, as after ever so long a courseof experience. But the case is far otherwise. Nothing so like as eggs;yet no one, on account of this appearing similarity, expects the sametaste and relish in all of them. It is only after a long course ofuniform experiments in any kind, that we attain a firm reliance andsecurity with regard to a particular event. Now where is that process ofreasoning which, from one instance, draws a conclusion, so differentfrom that which it infers from a hundred instances that are nowisedifferent from that single one? This question I propose as much for thesake of information, as with an intention of raising difficulties. Icannot find, I cannot imagine any such reasoning. But I keep my mindstill open to instruction, if any one will vouchsafe to bestow it on me. 32. Should it be said that, from a number of uniform experiments, we_infer_ a connexion between the sensible qualities and the secretpowers; this, I must confess, seems the same difficulty, couched indifferent terms. The question still recurs, on what process of argumentthis _inference_ is founded? Where is the medium, the interposing ideas, which join propositions so very wide of each other? It is confessed thatthe colour, consistence, and other sensible qualities of bread appearnot, of themselves, to have any connexion with the secret powers ofnourishment and support. For otherwise we could infer these secretpowers from the first appearance of these sensible qualities, withoutthe aid of experience; contrary to the sentiment of all philosophers, and contrary to plain matter of fact. Here, then, is our natural stateof ignorance with regard to the powers and influence of all objects. Howis this remedied by experience? It only shows us a number of uniformeffects, resulting from certain objects, and teaches us that thoseparticular objects, at that particular time, were endowed with suchpowers and forces. When a new object, endowed with similar sensiblequalities, is produced, we expect similar powers and forces, and lookfor a like effect. From a body of like colour and consistence with breadwe expect like nourishment and support. But this surely is a step orprogress of the mind, which wants to be explained. When a man says, _Ihave found, in all past instances, such sensible qualities conjoinedwith such secret powers_: And when he says, _Similar sensible qualitieswill always be conjoined with similar secret powers_, he is not guiltyof a tautology, nor are these propositions in any respect the same. Yousay that the one proposition is an inference from the other. But youmust confess that the inference is not intuitive; neither is itdemonstrative: Of what nature is it, then? To say it is experimental, isbegging the question. For all inferences from experience suppose, astheir foundation, that the future will resemble the past, and thatsimilar powers will be conjoined with similar sensible qualities. Ifthere be any suspicion that the course of nature may change, and thatthe past may be no rule for the future, all experience becomes useless, and can give rise to no inference or conclusion. It is impossible, therefore, that any arguments from experience can prove this resemblanceof the past to the future; since all these arguments are founded on thesupposition of that resemblance. Let the course of things be allowedhitherto ever so regular; that alone, without some new argument orinference, proves not that, for the future, it will continue so. In vaindo you pretend to have learned the nature of bodies from your pastexperience. Their secret nature, and consequently all their effects andinfluence, may change, without any change in their sensible qualities. This happens sometimes, and with regard to some objects: Why may it nothappen always, and with regard to all objects? What logic, what processof argument secures you against this supposition? My practice, you say, refutes my doubts. But you mistake the purport of my question. As anagent, I am quite satisfied in the point; but as a philosopher, who hassome share of curiosity, I will not say scepticism, I want to learn thefoundation of this inference. No reading, no enquiry has yet been ableto remove my difficulty, or give me satisfaction in a matter of suchimportance. Can I do better than propose the difficulty to the public, even though, perhaps, I have small hopes of obtaining a solution? Weshall at least, by this means, be sensible of our ignorance, if we donot augment our knowledge. 33. I must confess that a man is guilty of unpardonable arrogance whoconcludes, because an argument has escaped his own investigation, thattherefore it does not really exist. I must also confess that, though allthe learned, for several ages, should have employed themselves infruitless search upon any subject, it may still, perhaps, be rash toconclude positively that the subject must, therefore, pass all humancomprehension. Even though we examine all the sources of our knowledge, and conclude them unfit for such a subject, there may still remain asuspicion, that the enumeration is not complete, or the examination notaccurate. But with regard to the present subject, there are someconsiderations which seem to remove all this accusation of arrogance orsuspicion of mistake. It is certain that the most ignorant and stupid peasants--nay infants, nay even brute beasts--improve by experience, and learn the qualities ofnatural objects, by observing the effects which result from them. When achild has felt the sensation of pain from touching the flame of acandle, he will be careful not to put his hand near any candle; but willexpect a similar effect from a cause which is similar in its sensiblequalities and appearance. If you assert, therefore, that theunderstanding of the child is led into this conclusion by any process ofargument or ratiocination, I may justly require you to produce thatargument; nor have you any pretence to refuse so equitable a demand. Youcannot say that the argument is abstruse, and may possibly escape yourenquiry; since you confess that it is obvious to the capacity of a mereinfant. If you hesitate, therefore, a moment, or if, after reflection, you produce any intricate or profound argument, you, in a manner, giveup the question, and confess that it is not reasoning which engages usto suppose the past resembling the future, and to expect similar effectsfrom causes which are, to appearance, similar. This is the propositionwhich I intended to enforce in the present section. If I be right, Ipretend not to have made any mighty discovery. And if I be wrong, I mustacknowledge myself to be indeed a very backward scholar; since I cannotnow discover an argument which, it seems, was perfectly familiar to melong before I was out of my cradle. SECTION V. SCEPTICAL SOLUTION OF THESE DOUBTS. PART I. 34. The passion for philosophy, like that for religion, seems liable tothis inconvenience, that, though it aims at the correction of ourmanners, and extirpation of our vices, it may only serve, by imprudentmanagement, to foster a predominant inclination, and push the mind, withmore determined resolution, towards that side which already _draws_ toomuch, by the bias and propensity of the natural temper. It is certainthat, while we aspire to the magnanimous firmness of the philosophicsage, and endeavour to confine our pleasures altogether within our ownminds, we may, at last, render our philosophy like that of Epictetus, and other _Stoics_, only a more refined system of selfishness, andreason ourselves out of all virtue as well as social enjoyment. While westudy with attention the vanity of human life, and turn all our thoughtstowards the empty and transitory nature of riches and honours, we are, perhaps, all the while flattering our natural indolence, which, hatingthe bustle of the world, and drudgery of business, seeks a pretence ofreason to give itself a full and uncontrolled indulgence. There is, however, one species of philosophy which seems little liable to thisinconvenience, and that because it strikes in with no disorderly passionof the human mind, nor can mingle itself with any natural affection orpropensity; and that is the Academic or Sceptical philosophy. Theacademics always talk of doubt and suspense of judgement, of danger inhasty determinations, of confining to very narrow bounds the enquiriesof the understanding, and of renouncing all speculations which lie notwithin the limits of common life and practice. Nothing, therefore, canbe more contrary than such a philosophy to the supine indolence of themind, its rash arrogance, its lofty pretensions, and its superstitiouscredulity. Every passion is mortified by it, except the love of truth;and that passion never is, nor can be, carried to too high a degree. Itis surprising, therefore, that this philosophy, which, in almost everyinstance, must be harmless and innocent, should be the subject of somuch groundless reproach and obloquy. But, perhaps, the verycircumstance which renders it so innocent is what chiefly exposes it tothe public hatred and resentment. By flattering no irregular passion, itgains few partizans: By opposing so many vices and follies, it raises toitself abundance of enemies, who stigmatize it as libertine profane, andirreligious. Nor need we fear that this philosophy, while it endeavours to limit ourenquiries to common life, should ever undermine the reasonings of commonlife, and carry its doubts so far as to destroy all action, as well asspeculation. Nature will always maintain her rights, and prevail in theend over any abstract reasoning whatsoever. Though we should conclude, for instance, as in the foregoing section, that, in all reasonings fromexperience, there is a step taken by the mind which is not supported byany argument or process of the understanding; there is no danger thatthese reasonings, on which almost all knowledge depends, will ever beaffected by such a discovery. If the mind be not engaged by argument tomake this step, it must be induced by some other principle of equalweight and authority; and that principle will preserve its influence aslong as human nature remains the same. What that principle is may wellbe worth the pains of enquiry. 35. Suppose a person, though endowed with the strongest faculties ofreason and reflection, to be brought on a sudden into this world; hewould, indeed, immediately observe a continual succession of objects, and one event following another; but he would not be able to discoveranything farther. He would not, at first, by any reasoning, be able toreach the idea of cause and effect; since the particular powers, bywhich all natural operations are performed, never appear to the senses;nor is it reasonable to conclude, merely because one event, in oneinstance, precedes another, that therefore the one is the cause, theother the effect. Their conjunction may be arbitrary and casual. Theremay be no reason to infer the existence of one from the appearance ofthe other. And in a word, such a person, without more experience, couldnever employ his conjecture or reasoning concerning any matter of fact, or be assured of anything beyond what was immediately present to hismemory and senses. Suppose, again, that he has acquired more experience, and has lived solong in the world as to have observed familiar objects or events to beconstantly conjoined together; what is the consequence of thisexperience? He immediately infers the existence of one object from theappearance of the other. Yet he has not, by all his experience, acquiredany idea or knowledge of the secret power by which the one objectproduces the other; nor is it, by any process of reasoning, he isengaged to draw this inference. But still he finds himself determined todraw it: And though he should be convinced that his understanding has nopart in the operation, he would nevertheless continue in the same courseof thinking. There is some other principle which determines him to formsuch a conclusion. 36. This principle is Custom or Habit. For wherever the repetition ofany particular act or operation produces a propensity to renew the sameact or operation, without being impelled by any reasoning or process ofthe understanding, we always say, that this propensity is the effect of_Custom_. By employing that word, we pretend not to have given theultimate reason of such a propensity. We only point out a principle ofhuman nature, which is universally acknowledged, and which is well knownby its effects. Perhaps we can push our enquiries no farther, or pretendto give the cause of this cause; but must rest contented with it as theultimate principle, which we can assign, of all our conclusions fromexperience. It is sufficient satisfaction, that we can go so far, without repining at the narrowness of our faculties because they willcarry us no farther. And it is certain we here advance a veryintelligible proposition at least, if not a true one, when we assertthat, after the constant conjunction of two objects--heat and flame, forinstance, weight and solidity--we are determined by custom alone toexpect the one from the appearance of the other. This hypothesis seemseven the only one which explains the difficulty, why we draw, from athousand instances, an inference which we are not able to draw from oneinstance, that is, in no respect, different from them. Reason isincapable of any such variation. The conclusions which it draws fromconsidering one circle are the same which it would form upon surveyingall the circles in the universe. But no man, having seen only one bodymove after being impelled by another, could infer that every other bodywill move after a like impulse. All inferences from experience, therefore, are effects of custom, not of reasoning[7]. [7] Nothing is more useful than for writers, even, on _moral_, _political_, or _physical_ subjects, to distinguish between _reason_ and _experience_, and to suppose, that these species of argumentation are entirely different from each other. The former are taken for the mere result of our intellectual faculties, which, by considering _à priori_ the nature of things, and examining the effects, that must follow from their operation, establish particular principles of science and philosophy. The latter are supposed to be derived entirely from sense and observation, by which we learn what has actually resulted from the operation of particular objects, and are thence able to infer, what will, for the future, result from them. Thus, for instance, the limitations and restraints of civil government, and a legal constitution, may be defended, either from _reason_, which reflecting on the great frailty and corruption of human nature, teaches, that no man can safely be trusted with unlimited authority; or from _experience_ and history, which inform us of the enormous abuses, that ambition, in every age and country, has been found to make of so imprudent a confidence. The same distinction between reason and experience is maintained in all our deliberations concerning the conduct of life; while the experienced statesman, general, physician, or merchant is trusted and followed; and the unpractised novice, with whatever natural talents endowed, neglected and despised. Though it be allowed, that reason may form very plausible conjectures with regard to the consequences of such a particular conduct in such particular circumstances; it is still supposed imperfect, without the assistance of experience, which is alone able to give stability and certainty to the maxims, derived from study and reflection. But notwithstanding that this distinction be thus universally received, both in the active speculative scenes of life, I shall not scruple to pronounce, that it is, at bottom, erroneous, at least, superficial. If we examine those arguments, which, in any of the sciences above mentioned, are supposed to be the mere effects of reasoning and reflection, they will be found to terminate, at last, in some general principle or conclusion, for which we can assign no reason but observation and experience. The only difference between them and those maxims, which are vulgarly esteemed the result of pure experience, is, that the former cannot be established without some process of thought, and some reflection on what we have observed, in order to distinguish its circumstances, and trace its consequences: Whereas in the latter, the experienced event is exactly and fully familiar to that which we infer as the result of any particular situation. The history of a TIBERIUS or a NERO makes us dread a like tyranny, were our monarchs freed from the restraints of laws and senates: But the observation of any fraud or cruelty in private life is sufficient, with the aid of a little thought, to give us the same apprehension; while it serves as an instance of the general corruption of human nature, and shows us the danger which we must incur by reposing an entire confidence in mankind. In both cases, it is experience which is ultimately the foundation of our inference and conclusion. There is no man so young and unexperienced, as not to have formed, from observation, many general and just maxims concerning human affairs and the conduct of life; but it must be confessed, that, when a man comes to put these in practice, he will be extremely liable to error, till time and farther experience both enlarge these maxims, and teach him their proper use and application. In every situation or incident, there are many particular and seemingly minute circumstances, which the man of greatest talent is, at first, apt to overlook, though on them the justness of his conclusions, and consequently the prudence of his conduct, entirely depend. Not to mention, that, to a young beginner, the general observations and maxims occur not always on the proper occasions, nor can be immediately applied with due calmness and distinction. The truth is, an unexperienced reasoner could be no reasoner at all, were he absolutely unexperienced; and when we assign that character to any one, we mean it only in a comparative sense, and suppose him possessed of experience, in a smaller and more imperfect degree. Custom, then, is the great guide of human life. It is that principlealone which renders our experience useful to us, and makes us expect, for the future, a similar train of events with those which have appearedin the past. Without the influence of custom, we should be entirely ignorant of everymatter of fact beyond what is immediately present to the memory andsenses. We should never know how to adjust means to ends, or to employour natural powers in the production of any effect. There would be anend at once of all action, as well as of the chief part of speculation. 37. But here it may be proper to remark, that though our conclusionsfrom experience carry us beyond our memory and senses, and assure us ofmatters of fact which happened in the most distant places and mostremote ages, yet some fact must always be present to the senses ormemory, from which we may first proceed in drawing these conclusions. Aman, who should find in a desert country the remains of pompousbuildings, would conclude that the country had, in ancient times, beencultivated by civilized inhabitants; but did nothing of this natureoccur to him, he could never form such an inference. We learn the eventsof former ages from history; but then we must peruse the volumes inwhich this instruction is contained, and thence carry up our inferencesfrom one testimony to another, till we arrive at the eyewitnesses andspectators of these distant events. In a word, if we proceed not uponsome fact, present to the memory or senses, our reasonings would bemerely hypothetical; and however the particular links might be connectedwith each other, the whole chain of inferences would have nothing tosupport it, nor could we ever, by its means, arrive at the knowledge ofany real existence. If I ask why you believe any particular matter offact, which you relate, you must tell me some reason; and this reasonwill be some other fact, connected with it. But as you cannot proceedafter this manner, _in infinitum_, you must at last terminate in somefact, which is present to your memory or senses; or must allow that yourbelief is entirely without foundation. 38. What, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter? A simple one;though, it must be confessed, pretty remote from the common theories ofphilosophy. All belief of matter of fact or real existence is derivedmerely from some object, present to the memory or senses, and acustomary conjunction between that and some other object. Or in otherwords; having found, in many instances, that any two kinds ofobjects--flame and heat, snow and cold--have always been conjoinedtogether; if flame or snow be presented anew to the senses, the mind iscarried by custom to expect heat or cold, and to _believe_ that such aquality does exist, and will discover itself upon a nearer approach. This belief is the necessary result of placing the mind in suchcircumstances. It is an operation of the soul, when we are so situated, as unavoidable as to feel the passion of love, when we receive benefits;or hatred, when we meet with injuries. All these operations are aspecies of natural instincts, which no reasoning or process of thethought and understanding is able either to produce or to prevent. At this point, it would be very allowable for us to stop ourphilosophical researches. In most questions we can never make a singlestep farther; and in all questions we must terminate here at last, afterour most restless and curious enquiries. But still our curiosity will bepardonable, perhaps commendable, if it carry us on to still fartherresearches, and make us examine more accurately the nature of this_belief_, and of the _customary conjunction_, whence it is derived. Bythis means we may meet with some explications and analogies that willgive satisfaction; at least to such as love the abstract sciences, andcan be entertained with speculations, which, however accurate, may stillretain a degree of doubt and uncertainty. As to readers of a differenttaste; the remaining part of this section is not calculated for them, and the following enquiries may well be understood, though it beneglected. PART II. 39. Nothing is more free than the imagination of man; and though itcannot exceed that original stock of ideas furnished by the internal andexternal senses, it has unlimited power of mixing, compounding, separating, and dividing these ideas, in all the varieties of fictionand vision. It can feign a train of events, with all the appearance ofreality, ascribe to them a particular time and place, conceive them asexistent, and paint them out to itself with every circumstance, thatbelongs to any historical fact, which it believes with the greatestcertainty. Wherein, therefore, consists the difference between such afiction and belief? It lies not merely in any peculiar idea, which isannexed to such a conception as commands our assent, and which iswanting to every known fiction. For as the mind has authority over allits ideas, it could voluntarily annex this particular idea to anyfiction, and consequently be able to believe whatever it pleases;contrary to what we find by daily experience. We can, in our conception, join the head of a man to the body of a horse; but it is not in ourpower to believe that such an animal has ever really existed. It follows, therefore, that the difference between _fiction_ and_belief_ lies in some sentiment or feeling, which is annexed to thelatter, not to the former, and which depends not on the will, nor can becommanded at pleasure. It must be excited by nature, like all othersentiments; and must arise from the particular situation, in which themind is placed at any particular juncture. Whenever any object ispresented to the memory or senses, it immediately, by the force ofcustom, carries the imagination to conceive that object, which isusually conjoined to it; and this conception is attended with a feelingor sentiment, different from the loose reveries of the fancy. In thisconsists the whole nature of belief. For as there is no matter of factwhich we believe so firmly that we cannot conceive the contrary, therewould be no difference between the conception assented to and that whichis rejected, were it not for some sentiment which distinguishes the onefrom the other. If I see a billiard-ball moving towards another, on asmooth table, I can easily conceive it to stop upon contact. Thisconception implies no contradiction; but still it feels very differentlyfrom that conception by which I represent to myself the impulse and thecommunication of motion from one ball to another. 40. Were we to attempt a _definition_ of this sentiment, we should, perhaps, find it a very difficult, if not an impossible task; in thesame manner as if we should endeavour to define the feeling of cold orpassion of anger, to a creature who never had any experience of thesesentiments. Belief is the true and proper name of this feeling; and noone is ever at a loss to know the meaning of that term; because everyman is every moment conscious of the sentiment represented by it. It maynot, however, be improper to attempt a _description_ of this sentiment;in hopes we may, by that means, arrive at some analogies, which mayafford a more perfect explication of it. I say, then, that belief isnothing but a more vivid, lively, forcible, firm, steady conception ofan object, than what the imagination alone is ever able to attain. Thisvariety of terms, which may seem so unphilosophical, is intended only toexpress that act of the mind, which renders realities, or what is takenfor such, more present to us than fictions, causes them to weigh more inthe thought, and gives them a superior influence on the passions andimagination. Provided we agree about the thing, it is needless todispute about the terms. The imagination has the command over all itsideas, and can join and mix and vary them, in all the ways possible. Itmay conceive fictitious objects with all the circumstances of place andtime. It may set them, in a manner, before our eyes, in their truecolours, just as they might have existed. But as it is impossible thatthis faculty of imagination can ever, of itself, reach belief, it isevident that belief consists not in the peculiar nature or order ofideas, but in the _manner_ of their conception, and in their _feeling_to the mind. I confess, that it is impossible perfectly to explain thisfeeling or manner of conception. We may make use of words which expresssomething near it. But its true and proper name, as we observed before, is _belief_; which is a term that every one sufficiently understands incommon life. And in philosophy, we can go no farther than assert, that_belief_ is something felt by the mind, which distinguishes the ideas ofthe judgement from the fictions of the imagination. It gives them moreweight and influence; makes them appear of greater importance; enforcesthem in the mind; and renders them the governing principle of ouractions. I hear at present, for instance, a person's voice, with whom Iam acquainted; and the sound comes as from the next room. Thisimpression of my senses immediately conveys my thought to the person, together with all the surrounding objects. I paint them out to myself asexisting at present, with the same qualities and relations, of which Iformerly knew them possessed. These ideas take faster hold of my mindthan ideas of an enchanted castle. They are very different to thefeeling, and have a much greater influence of every kind, either to givepleasure or pain, joy or sorrow. Let us, then, take in the whole compass of this doctrine, and allow, that the sentiment of belief is nothing but a conception more intenseand steady than what attends the mere fictions of the imagination, andthat this _manner_ of conception arises from a customary conjunction ofthe object with something present to the memory or senses: I believethat it will not be difficult, upon these suppositions, to find otheroperations of the mind analogous to it, and to trace up these phenomenato principles still more general. 41. We have already observed that nature has established connexionsamong particular ideas, and that no sooner one idea occurs to ourthoughts than it introduces its correlative, and carries our attentiontowards it, by a gentle and insensible movement. These principles ofconnexion or association we have reduced to three, namely, _Resemblance_, _Contiguity_ and _Causation_; which are the only bondsthat unite our thoughts together, and beget that regular train ofreflection or discourse, which, in a greater or less degree, takes placeamong all mankind. Now here arises a question, on which the solution ofthe present difficulty will depend. Does it happen, in all theserelations, that, when one of the objects is presented to the senses ormemory, the mind is not only carried to the conception of thecorrelative, but reaches a steadier and stronger conception of it thanwhat otherwise it would have been able to attain? This seems to be thecase with that belief which arises from the relation of cause andeffect. And if the case be the same with the other relations orprinciples of associations, this may be established as a general law, which takes place in all the operations of the mind. We may, therefore, observe, as the first experiment to our presentpurpose, that, upon the appearance of the picture of an absent friend, our idea of him is evidently enlivened by the _resemblance_, and thatevery passion, which that idea occasions, whether of joy or sorrow, acquires new force and vigour. In producing this effect, there concurboth a relation and a present impression. Where the picture bears him noresemblance, at least was not intended for him, it never so much asconveys our thought to him: And where it is absent, as well as theperson, though the mind may pass from the thought of the one to that ofthe other, it feels its idea to be rather weakened than enlivened bythat transition. We take a pleasure in viewing the picture of a friend, when it is set before us; but when it is removed, rather choose toconsider him directly than by reflection in an image, which is equallydistant and obscure. The ceremonies of the Roman Catholic religion may be considered asinstances of the same nature. The devotees of that superstition usuallyplead in excuse for the mummeries, with which they are upbraided, thatthey feel the good effect of those external motions, and postures, andactions, in enlivening their devotion and quickening their fervour, which otherwise would decay, if directed entirely to distant andimmaterial objects. We shadow out the objects of our faith, say they, insensible types and images, and render them more present to us by theimmediate presence of these types, than it is possible for us to domerely by an intellectual view and contemplation. Sensible objects havealways a greater influence on the fancy than any other; and thisinfluence they readily convey to those ideas to which they are related, and which they resemble. I shall only infer from these practices, andthis reasoning, that the effect of resemblance in enlivening the ideasis very common; and as in every case a resemblance and a presentimpression must concur, we are abundantly supplied with experiments toprove the reality of the foregoing principle. 42. We may add force to these experiments by others of a different kind, in considering the effects of _contiguity_ as well as of _resemblance_. It is certain that distance diminishes the force of every idea, andthat, upon our approach to any object; though it does not discoveritself to our senses; it operates upon the mind with an influence, whichimitates an immediate impression. The thinking on any object readilytransports the mind to what is contiguous; but it is only the actualpresence of an object, that transports it with a superior vivacity. WhenI am a few miles from home, whatever relates to it touches me morenearly than when I am two hundred leagues distant; though even at thatdistance the reflecting on any thing in the neighbourhood of my friendsor family naturally produces an idea of them. But as in this lattercase, both the objects of the mind are ideas; notwithstanding there isan easy transition between them; that transition alone is not able togive a superior vivacity to any of the ideas, for want of some immediateimpression[8]. [8] 'Naturane nobis, inquit, datum dicam, an errore quodam, ut, cum ea loca videamus, in quibus memoria dignos viros acceperimus multum esse versatos, magis moveamur, quam siquando eorum ipsorum aut facta audiamus aut scriptum aliquod legamus? Velut ego nunc moveor. Venit enim mihi Plato in mentem, quera accepimus primum hic disputare solitum: cuius etiam illi hortuli propinqui non memoriam solum mihi afferunt, sed ipsum videntur in conspectu meo hic ponere. Hic Speusippus, hic Xenocrates, hic eius auditor Polemo; cuius ipsa illa sessio fuit, quam videmus. Equidem etiam curiam nostram, Hostiliam dico, non hanc novam, quae mihi minor esse videtur postquam est maior, solebam intuens, Scipionem, Catonem, Laelium, nostrum vero in primis avum cogitare. Tanta vis admonitionis est in locis; ut non sine causa ex his memoriae deducta sit disciplina. ' _Cicero de Finibus_. Lib. V. 43. No one can doubt but causation has the same influence as the othertwo relations of resemblance and contiguity. Superstitious people arefond of the reliques of saints and holy men, for the same reason, thatthey seek after types or images, in order to enliven their devotion, andgive them a more intimate and strong conception of those exemplarylives, which they desire to imitate. Now it is evident, that one of thebest reliques, which a devotee could procure, would be the handywork ofa saint; and if his cloaths and furniture are ever to be considered inthis light, it is because they were once at his disposal, and were movedand affected by him; in which respect they are to be considered asimperfect effects, and as connected with him by a shorter chain ofconsequences than any of those, by which we learn the reality of hisexistence. Suppose, that the son of a friend, who had been long dead or absent, were presented to us; it is evident, that this object would instantlyrevive its correlative idea, and recal to our thoughts all pastintimacies and familiarities, in more lively colours than they wouldotherwise have appeared to us. This is another phaenomenon, which seemsto prove the principle above mentioned. 44. We may observe, that, in these phaenomena, the belief of thecorrelative object is always presupposed; without which the relationcould have no effect. The influence of the picture supposes, that we_believe_ our friend to have once existed. Contiguity to home can neverexcite our ideas of home, unless we _believe_ that it really exists. NowI assert, that this belief, where it reaches beyond the memory orsenses, is of a similar nature, and arises from similar causes, with thetransition of thought and vivacity of conception here explained. When Ithrow a piece of dry wood into a fire, my mind is immediately carried toconceive, that it augments, not extinguishes the flame. This transitionof thought from the cause to the effect proceeds not from reason. Itderives its origin altogether from custom and experience. And as itfirst begins from an object, present to the senses, it renders the ideaor conception of flame more strong and lively than any loose, floatingreverie of the imagination. That idea arises immediately. The thoughtmoves instantly towards it, and conveys to it all that force ofconception, which is derived from the impression present to the senses. When a sword is levelled at my breast, does not the idea of wound andpain strike me more strongly, than when a glass of wine is presented tome, even though by accident this idea should occur after the appearanceof the latter object? But what is there in this whole matter to causesuch a strong conception, except only a present object and a customarytransition to the idea of another object, which we have been accustomedto conjoin with the former? This is the whole operation of the mind, inall our conclusions concerning matter of fact and existence; and it is asatisfaction to find some analogies, by which it may be explained. Thetransition from a present object does in all cases give strength andsolidity to the related idea. Here, then, is a kind of pre-established harmony between the course ofnature and the succession of our ideas; and though the powers andforces, by which the former is governed, be wholly unknown to us; yetour thoughts and conceptions have still, we find, gone on in the sametrain with the other works of nature. Custom is that principle, by whichthis correspondence has been effected; so necessary to the subsistenceof our species, and the regulation of our conduct, in every circumstanceand occurrence of human life. Had not the presence of an object, instantly excited the idea of those objects, commonly conjoined with it, all our knowledge must have been limited to the narrow sphere of ourmemory and senses; and we should never have been able to adjust means toends, or employ our natural powers, either to the producing of good, oravoiding of evil. Those, who delight in the discovery and contemplationof _final causes_, have here ample subject to employ their wonder andadmiration. 45. I shall add, for a further confirmation of the foregoing theory, that, as this operation of the mind, by which we infer like effects fromlike causes, and _vice versa_, is so essential to the subsistence of allhuman creatures, it is not probable, that it could be trusted to thefallacious deductions of our reason, which is slow in its operations;appears not, in any degree, during the first years of infancy; and atbest is, in every age and period of human life, extremely liable toerror and mistake. It is more conformable to the ordinary wisdom ofnature to secure so necessary an act of the mind, by some instinct ormechanical tendency, which may be infallible in its operations, maydiscover itself at the first appearance of life and thought, and may beindependent of all the laboured deductions of the understanding. Asnature has taught us the use of our limbs, without giving us theknowledge of the muscles and nerves, by which they are actuated; so hasshe implanted in us an instinct, which carries forward the thought in acorrespondent course to that which she has established among externalobjects; though we are ignorant of those powers and forces, on whichthis regular course and succession of objects totally depends. SECTION VI. OF PROBABILITY[9]. [9] Mr. Locke divides all arguments into demonstrative and probable. In this view, we must say, that it is only probable all men must die, or that the sun will rise to-morrow. But to conform our language more to common use, we ought to divide arguments into _demonstrations_, _proofs_, and _probabilities_. By proofs meaning such arguments from experience as leave no room for doubt or opposition. 46. Though there be no such thing as _Chance_ in the world; ourignorance of the real cause of any event has the same influence on theunderstanding, and begets a like species of belief or opinion. There is certainly a probability, which arises from a superiority ofchances on any side; and according as this superiority encreases, andsurpasses the opposite chances, the probability receives aproportionable encrease, and begets still a higher degree of belief orassent to that side, in which we discover the superiority. If a dye weremarked with one figure or number of spots on four sides, and withanother figure or number of spots on the two remaining sides, it wouldbe more probable, that the former would turn up than the latter; though, if it had a thousand sides marked in the same manner, and only one sidedifferent, the probability would be much higher, and our belief orexpectation of the event more steady and secure. This process of thethought or reasoning may seem trivial and obvious; but to those whoconsider it more narrowly, it may, perhaps, afford matter for curiousspeculation. It seems evident, that, when the mind looks forward to discover theevent, which may result from the throw of such a dye, it considers theturning up of each particular side as alike probable; and this is thevery nature of chance, to render all the particular events, comprehendedin it, entirely equal. But finding a greater number of sides concur inthe one event than in the other, the mind is carried more frequently tothat event, and meets it oftener, in revolving the various possibilitiesor chances, on which the ultimate result depends. This concurrence ofseveral views in one particular event begets immediately, by aninexplicable contrivance of nature, the sentiment of belief, and givesthat event the advantage over its antagonist, which is supported by asmaller number of views, and recurs less frequently to the mind. If weallow, that belief is nothing but a firmer and stronger conception of anobject than what attends the mere fictions of the imagination, thisoperation may, perhaps, in some measure, be accounted for. Theconcurrence of these several views or glimpses imprints the idea morestrongly on the imagination; gives it superior force and vigour; rendersits influence on the passions and affections more sensible; and in aword, begets that reliance or security, which constitutes the nature ofbelief and opinion. 47. The case is the same with the probability of causes, as with that ofchance. There are some causes, which are entirely uniform and constantin producing a particular effect; and no instance has ever yet beenfound of any failure or irregularity in their operation. Fire has alwaysburned, and water suffocated every human creature: The production ofmotion by impulse and gravity is an universal law, which has hithertoadmitted of no exception. But there are other causes, which have beenfound more irregular and uncertain; nor has rhubarb always proved apurge, or opium a soporific to every one, who has taken these medicines. It is true, when any cause fails of producing its usual effect, philosophers ascribe not this to any irregularity in nature; butsuppose, that some secret causes, in the particular structure of parts, have prevented the operation. Our reasonings, however, and conclusionsconcerning the event are the same as if this principle had no place. Being determined by custom to transfer the past to the future, in allour inferences; where the past has been entirely regular and uniform, weexpect the event with the greatest assurance, and leave no room for anycontrary supposition. But where different effects have been found tofollow from causes, which are to _appearance_ exactly similar, all thesevarious effects must occur to the mind in transferring the past to thefuture, and enter into our consideration, when we determine theprobability of the event. Though we give the preference to that whichhas been found most usual, and believe that this effect will exist, wemust not overlook the other effects, but must assign to each of them aparticular weight and authority, in proportion as we have found it to bemore or less frequent. It is more probable, in almost every country ofEurope, that there will be frost sometime in January, than that theweather will continue open throughout that whole month; though thisprobability varies according to the different climates, and approachesto a certainty in the more northern kingdoms. Here then it seemsevident, that, when we transfer the past to the future, in order todetermine the effect, which will result from any cause, we transfer allthe different events, in the same proportion as they have appeared inthe past, and conceive one to have existed a hundred times, forinstance, another ten times, and another once. As a great number ofviews do here concur in one event, they fortify and confirm it to theimagination, beget that sentiment which we call _belief, _ and give itsobject the preference above the contrary event, which is not supportedby an equal number of experiments, and recurs not so frequently to thethought in transferring the past to the future. Let any one try toaccount for this operation of the mind upon any of the received systemsof philosophy, and he will be sensible of the difficulty. For my part, Ishall think it sufficient, if the present hints excite the curiosity ofphilosophers, and make them sensible how defective all common theoriesare in treating of such curious and such sublime subjects. SECTION VII. OF THE IDEA OF NECESSARY CONNEXION. PART I. 48. The great advantage of the mathematical sciences above the moralconsists in this, that the ideas of the former, being sensible, arealways clear and determinate, the smallest distinction between them isimmediately perceptible, and the same terms are still expressive of thesame ideas, without ambiguity or variation. An oval is never mistakenfor a circle, nor an hyperbola for an ellipsis. The isosceles andscalenum are distinguished by boundaries more exact than vice andvirtue, right and wrong. If any term be defined in geometry, the mindreadily, of itself, substitutes, on all occasions, the definition forthe term defined: Or even when no definition is employed, the objectitself may be presented to the senses, and by that means be steadily andclearly apprehended. But the finer sentiments of the mind, theoperations of the understanding, the various agitations of the passions, though really in themselves distinct, easily escape us, when surveyed byreflection; nor is it in our power to recal the original object, asoften as we have occasion to contemplate it. Ambiguity, by this means, is gradually introduced into our reasonings: Similar objects are readilytaken to be the same: And the conclusion becomes at last very wide ofthe premises. One may safely, however, affirm, that, if we consider these sciences ina proper light, their advantages and disadvantages nearly compensateeach other, and reduce both of them to a state of equality. If the mind, with greater facility, retains the ideas of geometry clear anddeterminate, it must carry on a much longer and more intricate chain ofreasoning, and compare ideas much wider of each other, in order to reachthe abstruser truths of that science. And if moral ideas are apt, without extreme care, to fall into obscurity and confusion, theinferences are always much shorter in these disquisitions, and theintermediate steps, which lead to the conclusion, much fewer than in thesciences which treat of quantity and number. In reality, there isscarcely a proposition in Euclid so simple, as not to consist of moreparts, than are to be found in any moral reasoning which runs not intochimera and conceit. Where we trace the principles of the human mindthrough a few steps, we may be very well satisfied with our progress;considering how soon nature throws a bar to all our enquiries concerningcauses, and reduces us to an acknowledgment of our ignorance. The chiefobstacle, therefore, to our improvement in the moral or metaphysicalsciences is the obscurity of the ideas, and ambiguity of the terms. Theprincipal difficulty in the mathematics is the length of inferences andcompass of thought, requisite to the forming of any conclusion. And, perhaps, our progress in natural philosophy is chiefly retarded by thewant of proper experiments and phaenomena, which are often discovered bychance, and cannot always be found, when requisite, even by the mostdiligent and prudent enquiry. As moral philosophy seems hitherto to havereceived less improvement than either geometry or physics, we mayconclude, that, if there be any difference in this respect among thesesciences, the difficulties, which obstruct the progress of the former, require superior care and capacity to be surmounted. 49. There are no ideas, which occur in metaphysics, more obscure anduncertain, than those of _power, force, energy_ or _necessaryconnexion_, of which it is every moment necessary for us to treat in allour disquisitions. We shall, therefore, endeavour, in this section, tofix, if possible, the precise meaning of these terms, and thereby removesome part of that obscurity, which is so much complained of in thisspecies of philosophy. It seems a proposition, which will not admit of much dispute, that allour ideas are nothing but copies of our impressions, or, in other words, that it is impossible for us to _think_ of any thing, which we have notantecedently _felt_, either by our external or internal senses. I haveendeavoured[10] to explain and prove this proposition, and have expressedmy hopes, that, by a proper application of it, men may reach a greaterclearness and precision in philosophical reasonings, than what they havehitherto been able to attain. Complex ideas may, perhaps, be well knownby definition, which is nothing but an enumeration of those parts orsimple ideas, that compose them. But when we have pushed up definitionsto the most simple ideas, and find still some ambiguity and obscurity;what resource are we then possessed of? By what invention can we throwlight upon these ideas, and render them altogether precise anddeterminate to our intellectual view? Produce the impressions ororiginal sentiments, from which the ideas are copied. These impressionsare all strong and sensible. They admit not of ambiguity. They are notonly placed in a full light themselves, but may throw light on theircorrespondent ideas, which lie in obscurity. And by this means, we may, perhaps, attain a new microscope or species of optics, by which, in themoral sciences, the most minute, and most simple ideas may be soenlarged as to fall readily under our apprehension, and be equally knownwith the grossest and most sensible ideas, that can be the object ofour enquiry. [10] Section II. 50. To be fully acquainted, therefore, with the idea of power ornecessary connexion, let us examine its impression; and in order to findthe impression with greater certainty, let us search for it in all thesources, from which it may possibly be derived. When we look about us towards external objects, and consider theoperation of causes, we are never able, in a single instance, todiscover any power or necessary connexion; any quality, which binds theeffect to the cause, and renders the one an infallible consequence ofthe other. We only find, that the one does actually, in fact, follow theother. The impulse of one billiard-ball is attended with motion in thesecond. This is the whole that appears to the _outward_ senses. The mindfeels no sentiment or _inward_ impression from this succession ofobjects: Consequently, there is not, in any single, particular instanceof cause and effect, any thing which can suggest the idea of power ornecessary connexion. From the first appearance of an object, we never can conjecture whateffect will result from it. But were the power or energy of any causediscoverable by the mind, we could foresee the effect, even withoutexperience; and might, at first, pronounce with certainty concerning it, by mere dint of thought and reasoning. In reality, there is no part of matter, that does ever, by its sensiblequalities, discover any power or energy, or give us ground to imagine, that it could produce any thing, or be followed by any other object, which we could denominate its effect. Solidity, extension, motion; thesequalities are all complete in themselves, and never point out any otherevent which may result from them. The scenes of the universe arecontinually shifting, and one object follows another in an uninterruptedsuccession; but the power of force, which actuates the whole machine, isentirely concealed from us, and never discovers itself in any of thesensible qualities of body. We know, that, in fact, heat is a constantattendant of flame; but what is the connexion between them, we have noroom so much as to conjecture or imagine. It is impossible, therefore, that the idea of power can be derived from the contemplation of bodies, in single instances of their operation; because no bodies ever discoverany power, which can be the original of this idea. [11] [11] Mr. Locke, in his chapter of power, says that, finding from experience, that there are several new productions in nature, and concluding that there must somewhere be a power capable of producing them, we arrive at last by this reasoning at the idea of power. But no reasoning can ever give us a new, original, simple idea; as this philosopher himself confesses. This, therefore, can never be the origin of that idea. 51. Since, therefore, external objects as they appear to the senses, give us no idea of power or necessary connexion, by their operation inparticular instances, let us see, whether this idea be derived fromreflection on the operations of our own minds, and be copied from anyinternal impression. It may be said, that we are every moment consciousof internal power; while we feel, that, by the simple command of ourwill, we can move the organs of our body, or direct the faculties of ourmind. An act of volition produces motion in our limbs, or raises a newidea in our imagination. This influence of the will we know byconsciousness. Hence we acquire the idea of power or energy; and arecertain, that we ourselves and all other intelligent beings arepossessed of power. This idea, then, is an idea of reflection, since itarises from reflecting on the operations of our own mind, and on thecommand which is exercised by will, both over the organs of the body andfaculties of the soul. 52. We shall proceed to examine this pretension; and first with regardto the influence of volition over the organs of the body. Thisinfluence, we may observe, is a fact, which, like all other naturalevents, can be known only by experience, and can never be foreseen fromany apparent energy or power in the cause, which connects it with theeffect, and renders the one an infallible consequence of the other. Themotion of our body follows upon the command of our will. Of this we areevery moment conscious. But the means, by which this is effected; theenergy, by which the will performs so extraordinary an operation; ofthis we are so far from being immediately conscious, that it must forever escape our most diligent enquiry. For _first_; is there any principle in all nature more mysterious thanthe union of soul with body; by which a supposed spiritual substanceacquires such an influence over a material one, that the most refinedthought is able to actuate the grossest matter? Were we empowered, by asecret wish, to remove mountains, or control the planets in their orbit;this extensive authority would not be more extraordinary, nor morebeyond our comprehension. But if by consciousness we perceived any poweror energy in the will, we must know this power; we must know itsconnexion with the effect; we must know the secret union of soul andbody, and the nature of both these substances; by which the one is ableto operate, in so many instances, upon the other. _Secondly_, We are not able to move all the organs of the body with alike authority; though we cannot assign any reason besides experience, for so remarkable a difference between one and the other. Why has thewill an influence over the tongue and fingers, not over the heart orliver? This question would never embarrass us, were we conscious of apower in the former case, not in the latter. We should then perceive, independent of experience, why the authority of will over the organs ofthe body is circumscribed within such particular limits. Being in thatcase fully acquainted with the power or force, by which it operates, weshould also know, why its influence reaches precisely to suchboundaries, and no farther. A man, suddenly struck with palsy in the leg or arm, or who had newlylost those members, frequently endeavours, at first to move them, andemploy them in their usual offices. Here he is as much conscious ofpower to command such limbs, as a man in perfect health is conscious ofpower to actuate any member which remains in its natural state andcondition. But consciousness never deceives. Consequently, neither inthe one case nor in the other, are we ever conscious of any power. Welearn the influence of our will from experience alone. And experienceonly teaches us, how one event constantly follows another; withoutinstructing us in the secret connexion, which binds them together, andrenders them inseparable. _Thirdly, _ We learn from anatomy, that the immediate object of power involuntary motion, is not the member itself which is moved, but certainmuscles, and nerves, and animal spirits, and, perhaps, something stillmore minute and more unknown, through which the motion is successivelypropagated, ere it reach the member itself whose motion is the immediateobject of volition. Can there be a more certain proof, that the power, by which this whole operation is performed, so far from being directlyand fully known by an inward sentiment or consciousness, is, to the lastdegree mysterious and unintelligible? Here the mind wills a certainevent: Immediately another event, unknown to ourselves, and totallydifferent from the one intended, is produced: This event producesanother, equally unknown: Till at last, through a long succession, thedesired event is produced. But if the original power were felt, it mustbe known: Were it known, its effect also must be known; since all poweris relative to its effect. And _vice versa, _ if the effect be not known, the power cannot be known nor felt. How indeed can we be conscious of apower to move our limbs, when we have no such power; but only that tomove certain animal spirits, which, though they produce at last themotion of our limbs, yet operate in such a manner as is wholly beyondour comprehension? We may, therefore, conclude from the whole, I hope, without anytemerity, though with assurance; that our idea of power is not copiedfrom any sentiment or consciousness of power within ourselves, when wegive rise to animal motion, or apply our limbs to their proper use andoffice. That their motion follows the command of the will is a matter ofcommon experience, like other natural events: But the power or energy bywhich this is effected, like that in other natural events, is unknownand inconceivable. [12] [12] It may be pretended, that the resistance which we meet with in bodies, obliging us frequently to exert our force, and call up all our power, this gives us the idea of force and power. It is this _nisus_, or strong endeavour, of which we are conscious, that is the original impression from which this idea is copied. But, first, we attribute power to a vast number of objects, where we never can suppose this resistance or exertion of force to take place; to the Supreme Being, who never meets with any resistance; to the mind in its command over its ideas and limbs, in common thinking and motion, where the effect follows immediately upon the will, without any exertion or summoning up of force; to inanimate matter, which is not capable of this sentiment. _Secondly, _ This sentiment of an endeavour to overcome resistance has no known connexion with any event: What follows it, we know by experience; but could not know it _à priori. _ It must, however, be confessed, that the animal _nisus, _ which we experience, though it can afford no accurate precise idea of power, enters very much into that vulgar, inaccurate idea, which is formed of it. 53. Shall we then assert, that we are conscious of a power or energy inour own minds, when, by an act or command of our will, we raise up a newidea, fix the mind to the contemplation of it, turn it on all sides, andat last dismiss it for some other idea, when we think that we havesurveyed it with sufficient accuracy? I believe the same arguments willprove, that even this command of the will gives us no real idea of forceor energy. _First, _ It must be allowed, that, when we know a power, we know thatvery circumstance in the cause, by which it is enabled to produce theeffect: For these are supposed to be synonimous. We must, therefore, know both the cause and effect, and the relation between them. But do wepretend to be acquainted with the nature of the human soul and thenature of an idea, or the aptitude of the one to produce the other? Thisis a real creation; a production of something out of nothing: Whichimplies a power so great, that it may seem, at first sight, beyond thereach of any being, less than infinite. At least it must be owned, thatsuch a power is not felt, nor known, nor even conceivable by the mind. We only feel the event, namely, the existence of an idea, consequent toa command of the will: But the manner, in which this operation isperformed, the power by which it is produced, is entirely beyond ourcomprehension. _Secondly_, The command of the mind over itself is limited, as well asits command over the body; and these limits are not known by reason, orany acquaintance with the nature of cause and effect, but only byexperience and observation, as in all other natural events and in theoperation of external objects. Our authority over our sentiments andpassions is much weaker than that over our ideas; and even the latterauthority is circumscribed within very narrow boundaries. Will any onepretend to assign the ultimate reason of these boundaries, or show whythe power is deficient in one case, not in another. _Thirdly_, This self-command is very different at different times. A manin health possesses more of it than one languishing with sickness. Weare more master of our thoughts in the morning than in the evening:Fasting, than after a full meal. Can we give any reason for thesevariations, except experience? Where then is the power, of which wepretend to be conscious? Is there not here, either in a spiritual ormaterial substance, or both, some secret mechanism or structure ofparts, upon which the effect depends, and which, being entirely unknownto us, renders the power or energy of the will equally unknown andincomprehensible? Volition is surely an act of the mind, with which we are sufficientlyacquainted. Reflect upon it. Consider it on all sides. Do you findanything in it like this creative power, by which it raises from nothinga new idea, and with a kind of _Fiat_, imitates the omnipotence of itsMaker, if I may be allowed so to speak, who called forth into existenceall the various scenes of nature? So far from being conscious of thisenergy in the will, it requires as certain experience as that of whichwe are possessed, to convince us that such extraordinary effects do everresult from a simple act of volition. 54. The generality of mankind never find any difficulty in accountingfor the more common and familiar operations of nature--such as thedescent of heavy bodies, the growth of plants, the generation ofanimals, or the nourishment of bodies by food: But suppose that, in allthese cases, they perceive the very force or energy of the cause, bywhich it is connected with its effect, and is for ever infallible in itsoperation. They acquire, by long habit, such a turn of mind, that, uponthe appearance of the cause, they immediately expect with assurance itsusual attendant, and hardly conceive it possible that any other eventcould result from it. It is only on the discovery of extraordinaryphaenomena, such as earthquakes, pestilence, and prodigies of any kind, that they find themselves at a loss to assign a proper cause, and toexplain the manner in which the effect is produced by it. It is usualfor men, in such difficulties, to have recourse to some invisibleintelligent principle[13] as the immediate cause of that event whichsurprises them, and which, they think, cannot be accounted for from thecommon powers of nature. But philosophers, who carry their scrutiny alittle farther, immediately perceive that, even in the most familiarevents, the energy of the cause is as unintelligible as in the mostunusual, and that we only learn by experience the frequent _Conjunction_of objects, without being ever able to comprehend anything like_Connexion_ between them. [13] [Greek: theos apo maechanaes. ] 55. Here, then, many philosophers think themselves obliged by reason tohave recourse, on all occasions, to the same principle, which the vulgarnever appeal to but in cases that appear miraculous and supernatural. They acknowledge mind and intelligence to be, not only the ultimate andoriginal cause of all things, but the immediate and sole cause of everyevent which appears in nature. They pretend that those objects which arecommonly denominated _causes, _ are in reality nothing but _occasions;_and that the true and direct principle of every effect is not any poweror force in nature, but a volition of the Supreme Being, who wills thatsuch particular objects should for ever be conjoined with each other. Instead of saying that one billiard-ball moves another by a force whichit has derived from the author of nature, it is the Deity himself, theysay, who, by a particular volition, moves the second ball, beingdetermined to this operation by the impulse of the first ball, inconsequence of those general laws which he has laid down to himself inthe government of the universe. But philosophers advancing still intheir inquiries, discover that, as we are totally ignorant of the poweron which depends the mutual operation of bodies, we are no less ignorantof that power on which depends the operation of mind on body, or of bodyon mind; nor are we able, either from our senses or consciousness, toassign the ultimate principle in one case more than in the other. Thesame ignorance, therefore, reduces them to the same conclusion. Theyassert that the Deity is the immediate cause of the union between souland body; and that they are not the organs of sense, which, beingagitated by external objects, produce sensations in the mind; but thatit is a particular volition of our omnipotent Maker, which excites sucha sensation, in consequence of such a motion in the organ. In likemanner, it is not any energy in the will that produces local motion inour members: It is God himself, who is pleased to second our will, initself impotent, and to command that motion which we erroneouslyattribute to our own power and efficacy. Nor do philosophers stop atthis conclusion. They sometimes extend the same inference to the minditself, in its internal operations. Our mental vision or conception ofideas is nothing but a revelation made to us by our Maker. When wevoluntarily turn our thoughts to any object, and raise up its image inthe fancy, it is not the will which creates that idea: It is theuniversal Creator, who discovers it to the mind, and renders itpresent to us. 56. Thus, according to these philosophers, every thing is full of God. Not content with the principle, that nothing exists but by his will, that nothing possesses any power but by his concession: They rob nature, and all created beings, of every power, in order to render theirdependence on the Deity still more sensible and immediate. They considernot that, by this theory, they diminish, instead of magnifying, thegrandeur of those attributes, which they affect so much to celebrate. Itargues surely more power in the Deity to delegate a certain degree ofpower to inferior creatures than to produce every thing by his ownimmediate volition. It argues more wisdom to contrive at first thefabric of the world with such perfect foresight that, of itself, and byits proper operation, it may serve all the purposes of providence, thanif the great Creator were obliged every moment to adjust its parts, andanimate by his breath all the wheels of that stupendous machine. But if we would have a more philosophical confutation of this theory, perhaps the two following reflections may suffice. 57. _First_, it seems to me that this theory of the universal energy andoperation of the Supreme Being is too bold ever to carry conviction withit to a man, sufficiently apprized of the weakness of human reason, andthe narrow limits to which it is confined in all its operations. Thoughthe chain of arguments which conduct to it were ever so logical, theremust arise a strong suspicion, if not an absolute assurance, that it hascarried us quite beyond the reach of our faculties, when it leads toconclusions so extraordinary, and so remote from common life andexperience. We are got into fairy land, long ere we have reached thelast steps of our theory; and _there_ we have no reason to trust ourcommon methods of argument, or to think that our usual analogies andprobabilities have any authority. Our line is too short to fathom suchimmense abysses. And however we may flatter ourselves that we areguided, in every step which we take, by a kind of verisimilitude andexperience, we may be assured that this fancied experience has noauthority when we thus apply it to subjects that lie entirely out of thesphere of experience. But on this we shall have occasion to touchafterwards. [14] [14] Section XII. _Secondly, _ I cannot perceive any force in the arguments on which thistheory is founded. We are ignorant, it is true, of the manner in whichbodies operate on each other: Their force or energy is entirelyincomprehensible: But are we not equally ignorant of the manner or forceby which a mind, even the supreme mind, operates either on itself or onbody? Whence, I beseech you, do we acquire any idea of it? We have nosentiment or consciousness of this power in ourselves. We have no ideaof the Supreme Being but what we learn from reflection on our ownfaculties. Were our ignorance, therefore, a good reason for rejectingany thing, we should be led into that principle of denying all energy inthe Supreme Being as much as in the grossest matter. We surelycomprehend as little the operations of one as of the other. Is it moredifficult to conceive that motion may arise from impulse than that itmay arise from volition? All we know is our profound ignorance inboth cases[15]. [15] I need not examine at length the _vis inertiae_ which is so much talked of in the new philosophy, and which is ascribed to matter. We find by experience, that a body at rest or in motion continues for ever in its present state, till put from it by some new cause; and that a body impelled takes as much motion from the impelling body as it acquires itself. These are facts. When we call this a _vis inertiae_, we only mark these facts, without pretending to have any idea of the inert power; in the same manner as, when we talk of gravity, we mean certain effects, without comprehending that active power. It was never the meaning of Sir ISAAC NEWTON to rob second causes of all force or energy; though some of his followers have endeavoured to establish that theory upon his authority. On the contrary, that great philosopher had recourse to an etherial active fluid to explain his universal attraction; though he was so cautious and modest as to allow, that it was a mere hypothesis, not to be insisted on, without more experiments. I must confess, that there is something in the fate of opinions a little extraordinary. DES CARTES insinuated that doctrine of the universal and sole efficacy of the Deity, without insisting on it. MALEBRANCHE and other CARTESIANS made it the foundation of all their philosophy. It had, however, no authority in England. LOCKE, CLARKE, and CUDWORTH, never so much as take notice of it, but suppose all along, that matter has a real, though subordinate and derived power. By what means has it become so prevalent among our modern metaphysicians? PART II. 58. But to hasten to a conclusion of this argument, which is alreadydrawn out to too great a length: We have sought in vain for an idea ofpower or necessary connexion in all the sources from which we couldsuppose it to be derived. It appears that, in single instances of theoperation of bodies, we never can, by our utmost scrutiny, discover anything but one event following another, without being able to comprehendany force or power by which the cause operates, or any connexion betweenit and its supposed effect. The same difficulty occurs in contemplatingthe operations of mind on body--where we observe the motion of thelatter to follow upon the volition of the former, but are not able toobserve or conceive the tie which binds together the motion andvolition, or the energy by which the mind produces this effect. Theauthority of the will over its own faculties and ideas is not a whitmore comprehensible: So that, upon the whole, there appears not, throughout all nature, any one instance of connexion which isconceivable by us. All events seem entirely loose and separate. Oneevent follows another; but we never can observe any tie between them. They seem _conjoined_, but never _connected_. And as we can have no ideaof any thing which never appeared to our outward sense or inwardsentiment, the necessary conclusion _seems_ to be that we have no ideaof connexion or power at all, and that these words are absolutelywithout any meaning, when employed either in philosophical reasonings orcommon life. 59. But there still remains one method of avoiding this conclusion, andone source which we have not yet examined. When any natural object orevent is presented, it is impossible for us, by any sagacity orpenetration, to discover, or even conjecture, without experience, whatevent will result from it, or to carry our foresight beyond that objectwhich is immediately present to the memory and senses. Even after oneinstance or experiment where we have observed a particular event tofollow upon another, we are not entitled to form a general rule, orforetell what will happen in like cases; it being justly esteemed anunpardonable temerity to judge of the whole course of nature from onesingle experiment, however accurate or certain. But when one particularspecies of event has always, in all instances, been conjoined withanother, we make no longer any scruple of foretelling one upon theappearance of the other, and of employing that reasoning, which canalone assure us of any matter of fact or existence. We then call the oneobject, _Cause;_ the other, _Effect. _ We suppose that there is someconnexion between them; some power in the one, by which it infalliblyproduces the other, and operates with the greatest certainty andstrongest necessity. It appears, then, that this idea of a necessary connexion among eventsarises from a number of similar instances which occur of the constantconjunction of these events; nor can that idea ever be suggested by anyone of these instances, surveyed in all possible lights and positions. But there is nothing in a number of instances, different from everysingle instance, which is supposed to be exactly similar; except only, that after a repetition of similar instances, the mind is carried byhabit, upon the appearance of one event, to expect its usual attendant, and to believe that it will exist. This connexion, therefore, which we_feel_ in the mind, this customary transition of the imagination fromone object to its usual attendant, is the sentiment or impression fromwhich we form the idea of power or necessary connexion. Nothing fartheris in the case. Contemplate the subject on all sides; you will neverfind any other origin of that idea. This is the sole difference betweenone instance, from which we can never receive the idea of connexion, anda number of similar instances, by which it is suggested. The first timea man saw the communication of motion by impulse, as by the shock of twobilliard balls, he could not pronounce that the one event was_connected:_ but only that it was _conjoined_ with the other. After hehas observed several instances of this nature, he then pronounces themto be _connected. _ What alteration has happened to give rise to this newidea of _connexion?_ Nothing but that he now _feels_ these events to beconnected in his imagination, and can readily foretell the existence ofone from the appearance of the other. When we say, therefore, that oneobject is connected with another, we mean only that they have acquired aconnexion in our thought, and give rise to this inference, by which theybecome proofs of each other's existence: A conclusion which is somewhatextraordinary, but which seems founded on sufficient evidence. Nor willits evidence be weakened by any general diffidence of the understanding, or sceptical suspicion concerning every conclusion which is new andextraordinary. No conclusions can be more agreeable to scepticism thansuch as make discoveries concerning the weakness and narrow limits ofhuman reason and capacity. 60. And what stronger instance can be produced of the surprisingignorance and weakness of the understanding than the present? Forsurely, if there be any relation among objects which it imports to us toknow perfectly, it is that of cause and effect. On this are founded allour reasonings concerning matter of fact or existence. By means of italone we attain any assurance concerning objects which are removed fromthe present testimony of our memory and senses. The only immediateutility of all sciences, is to teach us, how to control and regulatefuture events by their causes. Our thoughts and enquiries are, therefore, every moment, employed about this relation: Yet so imperfectare the ideas which we form concerning it, that it is impossible to giveany just definition of cause, except what is drawn from somethingextraneous and foreign to it. Similar objects are always conjoined withsimilar. Of this we have experience. Suitably to this experience, therefore, we may define a cause to be _an object, followed by another, and where all the objects similar to the first are followed by objectssimilar to the second_. Or in other words _where, if the first objecthad not been, the second never had existed_. The appearance of a causealways conveys the mind, by a customary transition, to the idea of theeffect. Of this also we have experience. We may, therefore, suitably tothis experience, form another definition of cause, and call it, _anobject followed by another, and whose appearance always conveys thethought to that other. _ But though both these definitions be drawn fromcircumstances foreign to the cause, we cannot remedy this inconvenience, or attain any more perfect definition, which may point out thatcircumstance in the cause, which gives it a connexion with its effect. We have no idea of this connexion, nor even any distinct notion what itis we desire to know, when we endeavour at a conception of it. We say, for instance, that the vibration of this string is the cause of thisparticular sound. But what do we mean by that affirmation? We eithermean _that this vibration is followed by this sound, and that allsimilar vibrations have been followed by similar sounds:_ Or, _that thisvibration is followed by this sound, and that upon the appearance of onethe mind anticipates the senses, and forms immediately an idea of theother. _ We may consider the relation of cause and effect in either ofthese two lights; but beyond these, we have no idea of it. [16] [16] According to these explications and definitions, the idea of _power_ is relative as much as that of _cause;_ and both have a reference to an effect, or some other event constantly conjoined with the former. When we consider the _unknown_ circumstance of an object, by which the degree or quantity of its effect is fixed and determined, we call that its power: And accordingly, it is allowed by all philosophers, that the effect is the measure of the power. But if they had any idea of power, as it is in itself, why could not they Measure it in itself? The dispute whether the force of a body in motion be as its velocity, or the square of its velocity; this dispute, I say, need not be decided by comparing its effects in equal or unequal times; but by a direct mensuration and comparison. As to the frequent use of the words, Force, Power, Energy, &c. , which every where occur in common conversation, as well as in philosophy; that is no proof, that we are acquainted, in any instance, with the connecting principle between cause and effect, or can account ultimately for the production of one thing to another. These words, as commonly used, have very loose meanings annexed to them; and their ideas are very uncertain and confused. No animal can put external bodies in motion without the sentiment of a _nisus_ or endeavour; and every animal has a sentiment or feeling from the stroke or blow of an external object, that is in motion. These sensations, which are merely animal, and from which we can _à priori_ draw no inference, we are apt to transfer to inanimate objects, and to suppose, that they have some such feelings, whenever they transfer or receive motion. With regard to energies, which are exerted, without our annexing to them any idea of communicated motion, we consider only the constant experienced conjunction of the events; and as we _feel_ a customary connexion between the ideas, we transfer that feeling to the objects; as nothing is more usual than to apply to external bodies every internal sensation, which they occasion. 61. To recapitulate, therefore, the reasonings of this section: Everyidea is copied from some preceding impression or sentiment; and where wecannot find any impression, we may be certain that there is no idea. Inall single instances of the operation of bodies or minds, there isnothing that produces any impression, nor consequently can suggest anyidea of power or necessary connexion. But when many uniform instancesappear, and the same object is always followed by the same event; wethen begin to entertain the notion of cause and connexion. We then_feel_ a new sentiment or impression, to wit, a customary connexion inthe thought or imagination between one object and its usual attendant;and this sentiment is the original of that idea which we seek for. Foras this idea arises from a number of similar instances, and not from anysingle instance, it must arise from that circumstance, in which thenumber of instances differ from every individual instance. But thiscustomary connexion or transition of the imagination is the onlycircumstance in which they differ. In every other particular they arealike. The first instance which we saw of motion communicated by theshock of two billiard balls (to return to this obvious illustration) isexactly similar to any instance that may, at present, occur to us;except only, that we could not, at first, _infer_ one event from theother; which we are enabled to do at present, after so long a course ofuniform experience. I know not whether the reader will readily apprehendthis reasoning. I am afraid that, should I multiply words about it, orthrow it into a greater variety of lights, it would only become moreobscure and intricate. In all abstract reasonings there is one point ofview which, if we can happily hit, we shall go farther towardsillustrating the subject than by all the eloquence and copiousexpression in the world. This point of view we should endeavour toreach, and reserve the flowers of rhetoric for subjects which are moreadapted to them. SECTION VIII. OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. PART I. 62. It might reasonably be expected in questions which have beencanvassed and disputed with great eagerness, since the first origin ofscience and philosophy, that the meaning of all the terms, at least, should have been agreed upon among the disputants; and our enquiries, inthe course of two thousand years, been able to pass from words to thetrue and real subject of the controversy. For how easy may it seem togive exact definitions of the terms employed in reasoning, and makethese definitions, not the mere sound of words, the object of futurescrutiny and examination? But if we consider the matter more narrowly, we shall be apt to draw a quite opposite conclusion. From thiscircumstance alone, that a controversy has been long kept on foot, andremains still undecided, we may presume that there is some ambiguity inthe expression, and that the disputants affix different ideas to theterms employed in the controversy. For as the faculties of the mind aresupposed to be naturally alike in every individual; otherwise nothingcould be more fruitless than to reason or dispute together; it wereimpossible, if men affix the same ideas to their terms, that they couldso long form different opinions of the same subject; especially whenthey communicate their views, and each party turn themselves on allsides, in search of arguments which may give them the victory over theirantagonists. It is true, if men attempt the discussion of questionswhich lie entirely beyond the reach of human capacity, such as thoseconcerning the origin of worlds, or the economy of the intellectualsystem or region of spirits, they may long beat the air in theirfruitless contests, and never arrive at any determinate conclusion. Butif the question regard any subject of common life and experience, nothing, one would think, could preserve the dispute so long undecidedbut some ambiguous expressions, which keep the antagonists still at adistance, and hinder them from grappling with each other. 63. This has been the case in the long disputed question concerningliberty and necessity; and to so remarkable a degree that, if I be notmuch mistaken, we shall find, that all mankind, both learned andignorant, have always been of the same opinion with regard to thissubject, and that a few intelligible definitions would immediately haveput an end to the whole controversy. I own that this dispute has been somuch canvassed on all hands, and has led philosophers into such alabyrinth of obscure sophistry, that it is no wonder, if a sensiblereader indulge his ease so far as to turn a deaf ear to the proposal ofsuch a question, from which he can expect neither instruction orentertainment. But the state of the argument here proposed may, perhaps, serve to renew his attention; as it has more novelty, promises at leastsome decision of the controversy, and will not much disturb his ease byany intricate or obscure reasoning. I hope, therefore, to make it appear that all men have ever agreed inthe doctrine both of necessity and of liberty, according to anyreasonable sense, which can be put on these terms; and that the wholecontroversy has hitherto turned merely upon words. We shall begin withexamining the doctrine of necessity. 64. It is universally allowed that matter, in all its operations, isactuated by a necessary force, and that every natural effect is soprecisely determined by the energy of its cause that no other effect, insuch particular circumstances, could possibly have resulted from it. Thedegree and direction of every motion is, by the laws of nature, prescribed with such exactness that a living creature may as soon arisefrom the shock of two bodies as motion in any other degree or directionthan what is actually produced by it. Would we, therefore, form a justand precise idea of _necessity_, we must consider whence that ideaarises when we apply it to the operation of bodies. It seems evident that, if all the scenes of nature were continuallyshifted in such a manner that no two events bore any resemblance to eachother, but every object was entirely new, without any similitude towhatever had been seen before, we should never, in that case, haveattained the least idea of necessity, or of a connexion among theseobjects. We might say, upon such a supposition, that one object or eventhas followed another; not that one was produced by the other. Therelation of cause and effect must be utterly unknown to mankind. Inference and reasoning concerning the operations of nature would, fromthat moment, be at an end; and the memory and senses remain the onlycanals, by which the knowledge of any real existence could possibly haveaccess to the mind. Our idea, therefore, of necessity and causationarises entirely from the uniformity observable in the operations ofnature, where similar objects are constantly conjoined together, and themind is determined by custom to infer the one from the appearance of theother. These two circumstances form the whole of that necessity, whichwe ascribe to matter. Beyond the constant _conjunction_ of similarobjects, and the consequent _inference_ from one to the other, we haveno notion of any necessity or connexion. If it appear, therefore, that all mankind have ever allowed, without anydoubt or hesitation, that these two circumstances take place in thevoluntary actions of men, and in the operations of mind; it must follow, that all mankind have ever agreed in the doctrine of necessity, and thatthey have hitherto disputed, merely for not understanding each other. 65. As to the first circumstance, the constant and regular conjunctionof similar events, we may possibly satisfy ourselves by the followingconsiderations. It is universally acknowledged that there is a greatuniformity among the actions of men, in all nations and ages, and thathuman nature remains still the same, in its principles and operations. The same motives always produce the same actions. The same events followfrom the same causes. Ambition, avarice, self-love, vanity, friendship, generosity, public spirit: these passions, mixed in various degrees, anddistributed through society, have been, from the beginning of the world, and still are, the source of all the actions and enterprises, which haveever been observed among mankind. Would you know the sentiments, inclinations, and course of life of the Greeks and Romans? Study wellthe temper and actions of the French and English: You cannot be muchmistaken in transferring to the former _most_ of the observations whichyou have made with regard to the latter. Mankind are so much the same, in all times and places, that history informs us of nothing new orstrange in this particular. Its chief use is only to discover theconstant and universal principles of human nature, by showing men in allvarieties of circumstances and situations, and furnishing us withmaterials from which we may form our observations and become acquaintedwith the regular springs of human action and behaviour. These records ofwars, intrigues, factions, and revolutions, are so many collections ofexperiments, by which the politician or moral philosopher fixes theprinciples of his science, in the same manner as the physician ornatural philosopher becomes acquainted with the nature of plants, minerals, and other external objects, by the experiments which he formsconcerning them. Nor are the earth, water, and other elements, examinedby Aristotle, and Hippocrates, more like to those which at present lieunder our observation than the men described by Polybius and Tacitus areto those who now govern the world. Should a traveller, returning from a far country, bring us an account ofmen, wholly different from any with whom we were ever acquainted; men, who were entirely divested of avarice, ambition, or revenge; who knew nopleasure but friendship, generosity, and public spirit; we shouldimmediately, from these circumstances, detect the falsehood, and provehim a liar, with the same certainty as if he had stuffed his narrationwith stories of centaurs and dragons, miracles and prodigies. And if wewould explode any forgery in history, we cannot make use of a moreconvincing argument, than to prove, that the actions ascribed to anyperson are directly contrary to the course of nature, and that no humanmotives, in such circumstances, could ever induce him to such a conduct. The veracity of Quintus Curtius is as much to be suspected, when hedescribes the supernatural courage of Alexander, by which he was hurriedon singly to attack multitudes, as when he describes his supernaturalforce and activity, by which he was able to resist them. So readily anduniversally do we acknowledge a uniformity in human motives and actionsas well as in the operations of body. Hence likewise the benefit of that experience, acquired by long life anda variety of business and company, in order to instruct us in theprinciples of human nature, and regulate our future conduct, as well asspeculation. By means of this guide, we mount up to the knowledge ofmen's inclinations and motives, from their actions, expressions, andeven gestures; and again descend to the interpretation of their actionsfrom our knowledge of their motives and inclinations. The generalobservations treasured up by a course of experience, give us the clue ofhuman nature, and teach us to unravel all its intricacies. Pretexts andappearances no longer deceive us. Public declarations pass for thespecious colouring of a cause. And though virtue and honour be allowedtheir proper weight and authority, that perfect disinterestedness, sooften pretended to, is never expected in multitudes and parties; seldomin their leaders; and scarcely even in individuals of any rank orstation. But were there no uniformity in human actions, and were everyexperiment which we could form of this kind irregular and anomalous, itwere impossible to collect any general observations concerning mankind;and no experience, however accurately digested by reflection, would everserve to any purpose. Why is the aged husbandman more skilful in hiscalling than the young beginner but because there is a certainuniformity in the operation of the sun, rain, and earth towards theproduction of vegetables; and experience teaches the old practitionerthe rules by which this operation is governed and directed. 66. We must not, however, expect that this uniformity of human actionsshould be carried to such a length as that all men, in the samecircumstances, will always act precisely in the same manner, withoutmaking any allowance for the diversity of characters, prejudices, andopinions. Such a uniformity in every particular, is found in no part ofnature. On the contrary, from observing the variety of conduct indifferent men, we are enabled to form a greater variety of maxims, whichstill suppose a degree of uniformity and regularity. Are the manners of men different in different ages and countries? Welearn thence the great force of custom and education, which mould thehuman mind from its infancy and form it into a fixed and establishedcharacter. Is the behaviour and conduct of the one sex very unlike thatof the other? Is it thence we become acquainted with the differentcharacters which nature has impressed upon the sexes, and which shepreserves with constancy and regularity? Are the actions of the sameperson much diversified in the different periods of his life, frominfancy to old age? This affords room for many general observationsconcerning the gradual change of our sentiments and inclinations, andthe different maxims which prevail in the different ages of humancreatures. Even the characters, which are peculiar to each individual, have a uniformity in their influence; otherwise our acquaintance withthe persons and our observation of their conduct could never teach ustheir dispositions, or serve to direct our behaviour with regardto them. 67. I grant it possible to find some actions, which seem to have noregular connexion with any known motives, and are exceptions to all themeasures of conduct which have ever been established for the governmentof men. But if we would willingly know what judgement should be formedof such irregular and extraordinary actions, we may consider thesentiments commonly entertained with regard to those irregular eventswhich appear in the course of nature, and the operations of externalobjects. All causes are not conjoined to their usual effects with likeuniformity. An artificer, who handles only dead matter, may bedisappointed of his aim, as well as the politician, who directs theconduct of sensible and intelligent agents. The vulgar, who take things according to their first appearance, attribute the uncertainty of events to such an uncertainty in the causesas makes the latter often fail of their usual influence; though theymeet with no impediment in their operation. But philosophers, observingthat, almost in every part of nature, there is contained a vast varietyof springs and principles, which are hid, by reason of their minutenessor remoteness, find, that it is at least possible the contrariety ofevents may not proceed from any contingency in the cause, but from thesecret operation of contrary causes. This possibility is converted intocertainty by farther observation, when they remark that, upon an exactscrutiny, a contrariety of effects always betrays a contrariety ofcauses, and proceeds from their mutual opposition. A peasant can give nobetter reason for the stopping of any clock or watch than to say that itdoes not commonly go right: But an artist easily perceives that the sameforce in the spring or pendulum has always the same influence on thewheels; but fails of its usual effect, perhaps by reason of a grain ofdust, which puts a stop to the whole movement. From the observation ofseveral parallel instances, philosophers form a maxim that the connexionbetween all causes and effects is equally necessary, and that itsseeming uncertainty in some instances proceeds from the secretopposition of contrary causes. Thus, for instance, in the human body, when the usual symptoms of healthor sickness disappoint our expectation; when medicines operate not withtheir wonted powers; when irregular events follow from any particularcause; the philosopher and physician are not surprised at the matter, nor are ever tempted to deny, in general, the necessity and uniformityof those principles by which the animal economy is conducted. They knowthat a human body is a mighty complicated machine: That many secretpowers lurk in it, which are altogether beyond our comprehension: Thatto us it must often appear very uncertain in its operations: And thattherefore the irregular events, which outwardly discover themselves, canbe no proof that the laws of nature are not observed with the greatestregularity in its internal operations and government. 68. The philosopher, if he be consistent, must apply the same reasoningto the actions and volitions of intelligent agents. The most irregularand unexpected resolutions of men may frequently be accounted for bythose who know every particular circumstance of their character andsituation. A person of an obliging disposition gives a peevish answer:But he has the toothache, or has not dined. A stupid fellow discovers anuncommon alacrity in his carriage: But he has met with a sudden piece ofgood fortune. Or even when an action, as sometimes happens, cannot beparticularly accounted for, either by the person himself or by others;we know, in general, that the characters of men are, to a certaindegree, inconstant and irregular. This is, in a manner, the constantcharacter of human nature; though it be applicable, in a more particularmanner, to some persons who have no fixed rule for their conduct, butproceed in a continued course of caprice and inconstancy. The internalprinciples and motives may operate in a uniform manner, notwithstandingthese seeming irregularities; in the same manner as the winds, rain, clouds, and other variations of the weather are supposed to be governedby steady principles; though not easily discoverable by human sagacityand enquiry. 69. Thus it appears, not only that the conjunction between motives andvoluntary actions is as regular and uniform as that between the causeand effect in any part of nature; but also that this regular conjunctionhas been universally acknowledged among mankind, and has never been thesubject of dispute, either in philosophy or common life. Now, as it isfrom past experience that we draw all inferences concerning the future, and as we conclude that objects will always be conjoined together whichwe find to have always been conjoined; it may seem superfluous to provethat this experienced uniformity in human actions is a source whence wedraw _inferences_ concerning them. But in order to throw the argumentinto a greater variety of lights we shall also insist, though briefly, on this latter topic. The mutual dependence of men is so great in all societies that scarceany human action is entirely complete in itself, or is performed withoutsome reference to the actions of others, which are requisite to make itanswer fully the intention of the agent. The poorest artificer, wholabours alone, expects at least the protection of the magistrate, toensure him the enjoyment of the fruits of his labour. He also expectsthat, when he carries his goods to market, and offers them at areasonable price, he shall find purchasers, and shall be able, by themoney he acquires, to engage others to supply him with those commoditieswhich are requisite for his subsistence. In proportion as men extendtheir dealings, and render their intercourse with others morecomplicated, they always comprehend, in their schemes of life, a greatervariety of voluntary actions, which they expect, from the propermotives, to co-operate with their own. In all these conclusions theytake their measures from past experience, in the same manner as in theirreasonings concerning external objects; and firmly believe that men, aswell as all the elements, are to continue, in their operations, the samethat they have ever found them. A manufacturer reckons upon the labourof his servants for the execution of any work as much as upon the toolswhich he employs, and would be equally surprised were his expectationsdisappointed. In short, this experimental inference and reasoningconcerning the actions of others enters so much into human life that noman, while awake, is ever a moment without employing it. Have we notreason, therefore, to affirm that all mankind have always agreed in thedoctrine of necessity according to the foregoing definition andexplication of it? 70. Nor have philosophers ever entertained a different opinion from thepeople in this particular. For, not to mention that almost every actionof their life supposes that opinion, there are even few of thespeculative parts of learning to which it is not essential. What wouldbecome of _history, _ had we not a dependence on the veracity of thehistorian according to the experience which we have had of mankind? Howcould _politics_ be a science, if laws and forms of goverment had not auniform influence upon society? Where would be the foundation of_morals, _ if particular characters had no certain or determinate powerto produce particular sentiments, and if these sentiments had noconstant operation on actions? And with what pretence could we employour _criticism_ upon any poet or polite author, if we could notpronounce the conduct and sentiments of his actors either natural orunnatural to such characters, and in such circumstances? It seems almostimpossible, therefore, to engage either in science or action of any kindwithout acknowledging the doctrine of necessity, and this _inference_from motive to voluntary actions, from characters to conduct. And indeed, when we consider how aptly _natural_ and _moral_ evidencelink together, and form only one chain of argument, we shall make noscruple to allow that they are of the same nature, and derived from thesame principles. A prisoner who has neither money nor interest, discovers the impossibility of his escape, as well when he considers theobstinacy of the gaoler, as the walls and bars with which he issurrounded; and, in all attempts for his freedom, chooses rather to workupon the stone and iron of the one, than upon the inflexible nature ofthe other. The same prisoner, when conducted to the scaffold, foreseeshis death as certainly from the constancy and fidelity of his guards, asfrom the operation of the axe or wheel. His mind runs along a certaintrain of ideas: The refusal of the soldiers to consent to his escape;the action of the executioner; the separation of the head and body;bleeding, convulsive motions, and death. Here is a connected chain ofnatural causes and voluntary actions; but the mind feels no differencebetween them in passing from one link to another: Nor is less certain ofthe future event than if it were connected with the objects present tothe memory or senses, by a train of causes, cemented together by what weare pleased to call a _physical_ necessity. The same experienced unionhas the same effect on the mind, whether the united objects be motives, volition, and actions; or figure and motion. We may change the name ofthings; but their nature and their operation on the understandingnever change. Were a man, whom I know to be honest and opulent, and with whom I livein intimate friendship, to come into my house, where I am surroundedwith my servants, I rest assured that he is not to stab me before heleaves it in order to rob me of my silver standish; and I no moresuspect this event than the falling of the house itself, which is new, and solidly built and founded. _--But he may have been seized with asudden and unknown frenzy. --_So may a sudden earthquake arise, and shakeand tumble my house about my ears. I shall therefore change thesuppositions. I shall say that I know with certainty that he is not toput his hand into the fire and hold it there till it be consumed: Andthis event, I think I can foretell with the same assurance, as that, ifhe throw himself out at the window, and meet with no obstruction, hewill not remain a moment suspended in the air. No suspicion of anunknown frenzy can give the least possibility to the former event, whichis so contrary to all the known principles of human nature. A man who atnoon leaves his purse full of gold on the pavement at Charing-Cross, mayas well expect that it will fly away like a feather, as that he willfind it untouched an hour after. Above one half of human reasoningscontain inferences of a similar nature, attended with more or lessdegrees of certainty proportioned to our experience of the usual conductof mankind in such particular situations. 71. I have frequently considered, what could possibly be the reason whyall mankind, though they have ever, without hesitation, acknowledged thedoctrine of necessity in their whole practice and reasoning, have yetdiscovered such a reluctance to acknowledge it in words, and have rathershown a propensity, in all ages, to profess the contrary opinion. Thematter, I think, may be accounted for after the following manner. If weexamine the operations of body, and the production of effects from theircauses, we shall find that all our faculties can never carry us fartherin our knowledge of this relation than barely to observe that particularobjects are _constantly conjoined_ together, and that the mind iscarried, by a _customary transition, _ from the appearance of one to thebelief of the other. But though this conclusion concerning humanignorance be the result of the strictest scrutiny of this subject, menstill entertain a strong propensity to believe that they penetratefarther into the powers of nature, and perceive something like anecessary connexion between the cause and the effect. When again theyturn their reflections towards the operations of their own minds, and_feel_ no such connexion of the motive and the action; they are thenceapt to suppose, that there is a difference between the effects whichresult from material force, and those which arise from thought andintelligence. But being once convinced that we know nothing farther ofcausation of any kind than merely the _constant conjunction_ of objects, and the consequent _inference_ of the mind from one to another, andfinding that these two circumstances are universally allowed to haveplace in voluntary actions; we may be more easily led to own the samenecessity common to all causes. And though this reasoning may contradictthe systems of many philosophers, in ascribing necessity to thedeterminations of the will, we shall find, upon reflection, that theydissent from it in words only, not in their real sentiment. Necessity, according to the sense in which it is here taken, has never yet beenrejected, nor can ever, I think, be rejected by any philosopher. It mayonly, perhaps, be pretended that the mind can perceive, in theoperations of matter, some farther connexion between the cause andeffect; and connexion that has not place in voluntary actions ofintelligent beings. Now whether it be so or not, can only appear uponexamination; and it is incumbent on these philosophers to make goodtheir assertion, by defining or describing that necessity, and pointingit out to us in the operations of material causes. 72. It would seem, indeed, that men begin at the wrong end of thisquestion concerning liberty and necessity, when they enter upon it byexamining the faculties of the soul, the influence of the understanding, and the operations of the will. Let them first discuss a more simplequestion, namely, the operations of body and of brute unintelligentmatter; and try whether they can there form any idea of causation andnecessity, except that of a constant conjunction of objects, andsubsequent inference of the mind from one to another. If thesecircumstances form, in reality, the whole of that necessity, which weconceive in matter, and if these circumstances be also universallyacknowledged to take place in the operations of the mind, the dispute isat an end; at least, must be owned to be thenceforth merely verbal. Butas long as we will rashly suppose, that we have some farther idea ofnecessity and causation in the operations of external objects; at thesame time, that we can find nothing farther in the voluntary actions ofthe mind; there is no possibility of bringing the question to anydeterminate issue, while we proceed upon so erroneous a supposition. Theonly method of undeceiving us is to mount up higher; to examine thenarrow extent of science when applied to material causes; and toconvince ourselves that all we know of them is the constant conjunctionand inference above mentioned. We may, perhaps, find that it is withdifficulty we are induced to fix such narrow limits to humanunderstanding: But we can afterwards find no difficulty when we come toapply this doctrine to the actions of the will. For as it is evidentthat these have a regular conjunction with motives and circumstances andcharacters, and as we always draw inferences from one to the other, wemust be obliged to acknowledge in words that necessity, which we havealready avowed, in every deliberation of our lives, and in every step ofour conduct and behaviour. [17] [17] The prevalence of the doctrine of liberty may be accounted for, from another cause, viz. A false sensation or seeming experience which we have, or may have, of liberty or indifference, in many of our actions. The necessity of any action, whether of matter or of mind, is not, properly speaking, a quality in the agent, but in any thinking or intelligent being, who may consider the action; and it consists chiefly in the determination of his thoughts to infer the existence of that action from some preceding objects; as liberty, when opposed to necessity, is nothing but the want of that determination, and a certain looseness or indifference, which we feel, in passing, or not passing, from the idea of one object to that of any succeeding one. Now we may observe, that, though, in _reflecting_ on human actions, we seldom feel such a looseness, or indifference, but are commonly able to infer them with considerable certainty from their motives, and from the dispositions of the agent; yet it frequently happens, that, in _performing_ the actions themselves, we are sensible of something like it: And as all resembling objects are readily taken for each other, this has been employed as a demonstrative and even intuitive proof of human liberty. We feel, that our actions are subject to our will, on most occasions; and imagine we feel, that the will itself is subject to nothing, because, when by a denial of it we are provoked to try, we feel, that it moves easily every way, and produces an image of itself (or a _Velleïty, _ as it is called in the schools) even on that side, on which it did not settle. This image, or faint motion, we persuade ourselves, could, at that time, have been compleated into the thing itself; because, should that be denied, we find, upon a second trial, that, at present, it can. We consider not, that the fantastical desire of shewing liberty, is here the motive of our actions. And it seems certain, that, however we may imagine we feel a liberty within ourselves, a spectator can commonly infer our actions from our motives and character; and even where he cannot, he concludes in general, that he might, were he perfectly acquainted with every circumstance of our situation and temper, and the most secret springs of our complexion and disposition. Now this is the very essence of necessity, according to the foregoing doctrine. 73. But to proceed in this reconciling project with regard to thequestion of liberty and necessity; the most contentious question ofmetaphysics, the most contentious science; it will not require manywords to prove, that all mankind have ever agreed in the doctrine ofliberty as well as in that of necessity, and that the whole dispute, inthis respect also, has been hitherto merely verbal. For what is meant byliberty, when applied to voluntary actions? We cannot surely mean thatactions have so little connexion with motives, inclinations, andcircumstances, that one does not follow with a certain degree ofuniformity from the other, and that one affords no inference by which wecan conclude the existence of the other. For these are plain andacknowledged matters of fact. By liberty, then, we can only mean _apower of acting or not acting, according to the determinations of thewill;_ that is, if we choose to remain at rest, we may; if we choose tomove, we also may. Now this hypothetical liberty is universally allowedto belong to every one who is not a prisoner and in chains. Here, then, is no subject of dispute. 74. Whatever definition we may give of liberty, we should be careful toobserve two requisite circumstances; _first, _ that it be consistent withplain matter of fact; _secondly, _ that it be consistent with itself. Ifwe observe these circumstances, and render our definition intelligible, I am persuaded that all mankind will be found of one opinion withregard to it. It is universally allowed that nothing exists without a cause of itsexistence, and that chance, when strictly examined, is a mere negativeword, and means not any real power which has anywhere a being in nature. But it is pretended that some causes are necessary, some not necessary. Here then is the advantage of definitions. Let any one _define_ a cause, without comprehending, as a part of the definition, a _necessaryconnexion_ with its effect; and let him show distinctly the origin ofthe idea, expressed by the definition; and I shall readily give up thewhole controversy. But if the foregoing explication of the matter bereceived, this must be absolutely impracticable. Had not objects aregular conjunction with each other, we should never have entertainedany notion of cause and effect; and this regular conjunction producesthat inference of the understanding, which is the only connexion, thatwe can have any comprehension of. Whoever attempts a definition ofcause, exclusive of these circumstances, will be obliged either toemploy unintelligible terms or such as are synonymous to the term whichhe endeavours to define. [18] And if the definition above mentioned beadmitted; liberty, when opposed to necessity, not to constraint, is thesame thing with chance; which is universally allowed to have noexistence. [18] Thus, if a cause be defined, _that which produces any thing;_ it is easy to observe, that _producing_ is synonymous to _causing. _ In like manner, if a cause be defined, _that by which any thing exists;_ this is liable to the same objection. For what is meant by these words, _by which?_ Had it been said, that a cause is _that_ after which _any thing constantly exists;_ we should have understood the terms. For this is, indeed, all we know of the matter. And this constancy forms the very essence of necessity, nor have we any other idea of it. PART II. 75. There is no method of reasoning more common, and yet none moreblameable, than, in philosophical disputes, to endeavour the refutationof any hypothesis, by a pretence of its dangerous consequences toreligion and morality. When any opinion leads to absurdities, it iscertainly false; but it is not certain that an opinion is false, becauseit is of dangerous consequence. Such topics, therefore, ought entirelyto be forborne; as serving nothing to the discovery of truth, but onlyto make the person of an antagonist odious. This I observe in general, without pretending to draw any advantage from it. I frankly submit toan examination of this kind, and shall venture to affirm that thedoctrines, both of necessity and of liberty, as above explained, are notonly consistent with morality, but are absolutely essential toits support. Necessity may be defined two ways, conformably to the two definitions of_cause_, of which it makes an essential part. It consists either in theconstant conjunction of like objects, or in the inference of theunderstanding from one object to another. Now necessity, in both thesesenses, (which, indeed, are at bottom the same) has universally, thoughtacitly, in the schools, in the pulpit, and in common life, been allowedto belong to the will of man; and no one has ever pretended to deny thatwe can draw inferences concerning human actions, and that thoseinferences are founded on the experienced union of like actions, withlike motives, inclinations, and circumstances. The only particular inwhich any one can differ, is, that either, perhaps, he will refuse togive the name of necessity to this property of human actions: But aslong as the meaning is understood, I hope the word can do no harm: Orthat he will maintain it possible to discover something farther in theoperations of matter. But this, it must be acknowledged, can be of noconsequence to morality or religion, whatever it may be to naturalphilosophy or metaphysics. We may here be mistaken in asserting thatthere is no idea of any other necessity or connexion in the actions ofbody: But surely we ascribe nothing to the actions of the mind, but whateveryone does, and must readily allow of. We change no circumstance inthe received orthodox system with regard to the will, but only in thatwith regard to material objects and causes. Nothing, therefore, can bemore innocent, at least, than this doctrine. 76. All laws being founded on rewards and punishments, it is supposed asa fundamental principle, that these motives have a regular and uniforminfluence on the mind, and both produce the good and prevent the evilactions. We may give to this influence what name we please; but, as itis usually conjoined with the action, it must be esteemed a _cause_, andbe looked upon as an instance of that necessity, which we would hereestablish. The only proper object of hatred or vengeance is a person or creature, endowed with thought and consciousness; and when any criminal orinjurious actions excite that passion, it is only by their relation tothe person, or connexion with him. Actions are, by their very nature, temporary and perishing; and where they proceed not from some _cause_ inthe character and disposition of the person who performed them, they canneither redound to his honour, if good; nor infamy, if evil. The actionsthemselves may be blameable; they may be contrary to all the rules ofmorality and religion: But the person is not answerable for them; and asthey proceeded from nothing in him that is durable and constant, andleave nothing of that nature behind them, it is impossible he can, upontheir account, become the object of punishment or vengeance. Accordingto the principle, therefore, which denies necessity, and consequentlycauses, a man is as pure and untainted, after having committed the mosthorrid crime, as at the first moment of his birth, nor is his characteranywise concerned in his actions, since they are not derived from it, and the wickedness of the one can never be used as a proof of thedepravity of the other. Men are not blamed for such actions as they perform ignorantly andcasually, whatever may be the consequences. Why? but because theprinciples of these actions are only momentary, and terminate in themalone. Men are less blamed for such actions as they perform hastily andunpremeditately than for such as proceed from deliberation. For whatreason? but because a hasty temper, though a constant cause orprinciple in the mind, operates only by intervals, and infects not thewhole character. Again, repentance wipes off every crime, if attendedwith a reformation of life and manners. How is this to be accounted for?but by asserting that actions render a person criminal merely as theyare proofs of criminal principles in the mind; and when, by analteration of these principles, they cease to be just proofs, theylikewise cease to be criminal. But, except upon the doctrine ofnecessity, they never were just proofs, and consequently neverwere criminal. 77. It will be equally easy to prove, and from the same arguments, that_liberty_, according to that definition above mentioned, in which allmen agree, is also essential to morality, and that no human actions, where it is wanting, are susceptible of any moral qualities, or can bethe objects either of approbation or dislike. For as actions are objectsof our moral sentiment, so far only as they are indications of theinternal character, passions, and affections; it is impossible that theycan give rise either to praise or blame, where they proceed not fromthese principles, but are derived altogether from external violence. 78. I pretend not to have obviated or removed all objections to thistheory, with regard to necessity and liberty. I can foresee otherobjections, derived from topics which have not here been treated of. Itmay be said, for instance, that, if voluntary actions be subjected tothe same laws of necessity with the operations of matter, there is acontinued chain of necessary causes, pre-ordained and pre-determined, reaching from the original cause of all to every single volition ofevery human creature. No contingency anywhere in the universe; noindifference; no liberty. While we act, we are, at the same time, actedupon. The ultimate Author of all our volitions is the Creator of theworld, who first bestowed motion on this immense machine, and placed allbeings in that particular position, whence every subsequent event, byan inevitable necessity, must result. Human actions, therefore, eithercan have no moral turpitude at all, as proceeding from so good a cause;or if they have any turpitude, they must involve our Creator in the sameguilt, while he is acknowledged to be their ultimate cause and author. For as a man, who fired a mine, is answerable for all the consequenceswhether the train he employed be long or short; so wherever a continuedchain of necessary causes is fixed, that Being, either finite orinfinite, who produces the first, is likewise the author of all therest, and must both bear the blame and acquire the praise which belongto them. Our clear and unalterable ideas of morality establish thisrule, upon unquestionable reasons, when we examine the consequences ofany human action; and these reasons must still have greater force whenapplied to the volitions and intentions of a Being infinitely wise andpowerful. Ignorance or impotence may be pleaded for so limited acreature as man; but those imperfections have no place in our Creator. He foresaw, he ordained, he intended all those actions of men, which weso rashly pronounce criminal. And we must therefore conclude, eitherthat they are not criminal, or that the Deity, not man, is accountablefor them. But as either of these positions is absurd and impious, itfollows, that the doctrine from which they are deduced cannot possiblybe true, as being liable to all the same objections. An absurdconsequence, if necessary, proves the original doctrine to be absurd; inthe same manner as criminal actions render criminal the original cause, if the connexion between them be necessary and evitable. This objection consists of two parts, which we shall examine separately;_First_, that, if human actions can be traced up, by a necessary chain, to the Deity, they can never be criminal; on account of the infiniteperfection of that Being from whom they are derived, and who can intendnothing but what is altogether good and laudable. Or, _Secondly_, ifthey be criminal, we must retract the attribute of perfection, which weascribe to the Deity, and must acknowledge him to be the ultimate authorof guilt and moral turpitude in all his creatures. 79. The answer to the first objection seems obvious and convincing. There are many philosophers who, after an exact scrutiny of all thephenomena of nature, conclude, that the WHOLE, considered as one system, is, in every period of its existence, ordered with perfect benevolence;and that the utmost possible happiness will, in the end, result to allcreated beings, without any mixture of positive or absolute ill ormisery. Every physical ill, say they, makes an essential part of thisbenevolent system, and could not possibly be removed, even by the Deityhimself, considered as a wise agent, without giving entrance to greaterill, or excluding greater good, which will result from it. From thistheory, some philosophers, and the ancient _Stoics_ among the rest, derived a topic of consolation under all afflictions, while they taughttheir pupils that those ills under which they laboured were, in reality, goods to the universe; and that to an enlarged view, which couldcomprehend the whole system of nature, every event became an object ofjoy and exultation. But though this topic be specious and sublime, itwas soon found in practice weak and ineffectual. You would surely moreirritate than appease a man lying under the racking pains of the gout bypreaching up to him the rectitude of those general laws, which producedthe malignant humours in his body, and led them through the propercanals, to the sinews and nerves, where they now excite such acutetorments. These enlarged views may, for a moment, please the imaginationof a speculative man, who is placed in ease and security; but neithercan they dwell with constancy on his mind, even though undisturbed bythe emotions of pain or passion; much less can they maintain theirground when attacked by such powerful antagonists. The affections take anarrower and more natural survey of their object; and by an economy, more suitable to the infirmity of human minds, regard alone the beingsaround us, and are actuated by such events as appear good or ill to theprivate system. 80. The case is the same with _moral_ as with _physical_ ill. It cannotreasonably be supposed, that those remote considerations, which arefound of so little efficacy with regard to one, will have a morepowerful influence with regard to the other. The mind of man is soformed by nature that, upon the appearance of certain characters, dispositions, and actions, it immediately feels the sentiment ofapprobation or blame; nor are there any emotions more essential to itsframe and constitution. The characters which engage our approbation arechiefly such as contribute to the peace and security of human society;as the characters which excite blame are chiefly such as tend to publicdetriment and disturbance: Whence it may reasonably be presumed, thatthe moral sentiments arise, either mediately or immediately, from areflection of these opposite interests. What though philosophicalmeditations establish a different opinion or conjecture; that everythingis right with regard to the WHOLE, and that the qualities, which disturbsociety, are, in the main, as beneficial, and are as suitable to theprimary intention of nature as those which more directly promote itshappiness and welfare? Are such remote and uncertain speculations ableto counterbalance the sentiments which arise from the natural andimmediate view of the objects? A man who is robbed of a considerablesum; does he find his vexation for the loss anywise diminished by thesesublime reflections? Why then should his moral resentment against thecrime be supposed incompatible with them? Or why should not theacknowledgment of a real distinction between vice and virtue bereconcileable to all speculative systems of philosophy, as well as thatof a real distinction between personal beauty and deformity? Both thesedistinctions are founded in the natural sentiments of the human mind:And these sentiments are not to be controuled or altered by anyphilosophical theory or speculation whatsoever. 81. The _second_ objection admits not of so easy and satisfactory ananswer; nor is it possible to explain distinctly, how the Deity can bethe mediate cause of all the actions of men, without being the author ofsin and moral turpitude. These are mysteries, which mere natural andunassisted reason is very unfit to handle; and whatever system sheembraces, she must find herself involved in inextricable difficulties, and even contradictions, at every step which she takes with regard tosuch subjects. To reconcile the indifference and contingency of humanactions with prescience; or to defend absolute decrees, and yet free theDeity from being the author of sin, has been found hitherto to exceedall the power of philosophy. Happy, if she be thence sensible of hertemerity, when she pries into these sublime mysteries; and leaving ascene so full of obscurities and perplexities, return, with suitablemodesty, to her true and proper province, the examination of commonlife; where she will find difficulties enough to employ her enquiries, without launching into so boundless an ocean of doubt, uncertainty, andcontradiction! SECTION IX. OF THE REASON OF ANIMALS. 82. All our reasonings concerning matter of fact are founded on aspecies of Analogy, which leads us to expect from any cause the sameevents, which we have observed to result from similar causes. Where thecauses are entirely similar, the analogy is perfect, and the inference, drawn from it, is regarded as certain and conclusive: nor does any manever entertain a doubt, where he sees a piece of iron, that it will haveweight and cohesion of parts; as in all other instances, which have everfallen under his observation. But where the objects have not so exact asimilarity, the analogy is less perfect, and the inference is lessconclusive; though still it has some force, in proportion to the degreeof similarity and resemblance. The anatomical observations, formed uponone animal, are, by this species of reasoning, extended to all animals;and it is certain, that when the circulation of the blood, for instance, is clearly proved to have place in one creature, as a frog, or fish, itforms a strong presumption, that the same principle has place in all. These analogical observations may be carried farther, even to thisscience, of which we are now treating; and any theory, by which weexplain the operations of the understanding, or the origin and connexionof the passions in man, will acquire additional authority, if we find, that the same theory is requisite to explain the same phenomena in allother animals. We shall make trial of this, with regard to thehypothesis, by which we have, in the foregoing discourse, endeavouredto account for all experimental reasonings; and it is hoped, that thisnew point of view will serve to confirm all our former observations. 83. _First_, It seems evident, that animals as well as men learn manythings from experience, and infer, that the same events will alwaysfollow from the same causes. By this principle they become acquaintedwith the more obvious properties of external objects, and gradually, from their birth, treasure up a knowledge of the nature of fire, water, earth, stones, heights, depths, &c. , and of the effects which resultfrom their operation. The ignorance and inexperience of the young arehere plainly distinguishable from the cunning and sagacity of the old, who have learned, by long observation, to avoid what hurt them, and topursue what gave ease or pleasure. A horse, that has been accustomed tothe field, becomes acquainted with the proper height which he can leap, and will never attempt what exceeds his force and ability. An oldgreyhound will trust the more fatiguing part of the chace to theyounger, and will place himself so as to meet the hare in her doubles;nor are the conjectures, which he forms on this occasion, founded in anything but his observation and experience. This is still more evident from the effects of discipline and educationon animals, who, by the proper application of rewards and punishments, may be taught any course of action, and most contrary to their naturalinstincts and propensities. Is it not experience, which renders a dogapprehensive of pain, when you menace him, or lift up the whip to beathim? Is it not even experience, which makes him answer to his name, andinfer, from such an arbitrary sound, that you mean him rather than anyof his fellows, and intend to call him, when you pronounce it in acertain manner, and with a certain tone and accent? In all these cases, we may observe, that the animal infers some factbeyond what immediately strikes his senses; and that this inference isaltogether founded on past experience, while the creature expects fromthe present object the same consequences, which it has always found inits observation to result from similar objects. 84. _Secondly_, It is impossible, that this inference of the animal canbe founded on any process of argument or reasoning, by which heconcludes, that like events must follow like objects, and that thecourse of nature will always be regular in its operations. For if therebe in reality any arguments of this nature, they surely lie too abstrusefor the observation of such imperfect understandings; since it may wellemploy the utmost care and attention of a philosophic genius to discoverand observe them. Animals, therefore, are not guided in these inferencesby reasoning: Neither are children: Neither are the generality ofmankind, in their ordinary actions and conclusions: Neither arephilosophers themselves, who, in all the active parts of life, are, inthe main, the same with the vulgar, and are governed by the same maxims. Nature must have provided some other principle, of more ready, and moregeneral use and application; nor can an operation of such immenseconsequence in life, as that of inferring effects from causes, betrusted to the uncertain process of reasoning and argumentation. Werethis doubtful with regard to men, it seems to admit of no question withregard to the brute creation; and the conclusion being once firmlyestablished in the one, we have a strong presumption, from all the rulesof analogy, that it ought to be universally admitted, without anyexception or reserve. It is custom alone, which engages animals, fromevery object, that strikes their senses, to infer its usual attendant, and carries their imagination, from the appearance of the one, toconceive the other, in that particular manner, which we denominate_belief_. No other explication can be given of this operation, in allthe higher, as well as lower classes of sensitive beings, which fallunder our notice and observation [19]. [19] Since all reasonings concerning facts or causes is derived merely from custom, it may be asked how it happens, that men so much surpass animals in reasoning, and one man so much surpasses another? Has not the same custom the same influence on all? We shall here endeavour briefly to explain the great difference in human understandings: After which the reason of the difference between men and animals will easily be comprehended. 1. When we have lived any time, and have been accustomed to the uniformity of nature, we acquire a general habit, by which we always transfer the known to the unknown, and conceive the latter to resemble the former. By means of this general habitual principle, we regard even one experiment as the foundation of reasoning, and expect a similar event with some degree of certainty, where the experiment has been made accurately, and free from all foreign circumstances. It is therefore considered as a matter of great importance to observe the consequences of things; and as one man may very much surpass another in attention and memory and observation, this will make a very great difference in their reasoning. 2. Where there is a complication of causes to produce any effect, one mind may be much larger than another, and better able to comprehend the whole system of objects, and to infer justly their consequences. 3. One man is able to carry on a chain of consequences to a greater length than another. 4. Few men can think long without running into a confusion of ideas, and mistaking one for another; and there are various degrees of this infirmity. 5. The circumstance, on which the effect depends, is frequently involved in other circumstances, which are foreign and extrinsic. The separation of it often requires great attention, accuracy, and subtilty. 6. The forming of general maxims from particular observation is a very nice operation; and nothing is more usual, from haste or a narrowness of mind, which sees not on all sides, than to commit mistakes in this particular. 7. When we reason from analogies, the man, who has the greater experience or the greater promptitude of suggesting analogies, will be the better reasoner. 8. Byasses from prejudice, education, passion, party, &c. Hang more upon one mind than another. 9. After we have acquired a confidence in human testimony, books and conversation enlarge much more the sphere of one man's experience and thought than those of another. It would be easy to discover many other circumstances that make a difference in the understandings of men. 85. But though animals learn many parts of their knowledge fromobservation, there are also many parts of it, which they derive from theoriginal hand of nature; which much exceed the share of capacity theypossess on ordinary occasions; and in which they improve, little ornothing, by the longest practice and experience. These we denominateInstincts, and are so apt to admire as something very extraordinary, andinexplicable by all the disquisitions of human understanding. But ourwonder will, perhaps, cease or diminish, when we consider, that theexperimental reasoning itself, which we possess in common with beasts, and on which the whole conduct of life depends, is nothing but a speciesof instinct or mechanical power, that acts in us unknown to ourselves;and in its chief operations, is not directed by any such relations orcomparisons of ideas, as are the proper objects of our intellectualfaculties. Though the instinct be different, yet still it is aninstinct, which teaches a man to avoid the fire; as much as that, whichteaches a bird, with such exactness, the art of incubation, and thewhole economy and order of its nursery. SECTION X. OF MIRACLES. PART I. 86. There is, in Dr. Tillotson's writings, an argument against the _realpresence_, which is as concise, and elegant, and strong as any argumentcan possibly be supposed against a doctrine, so little worthy of aserious refutation. It is acknowledged on all hands, says that learnedprelate, that the authority, either of the scripture or of tradition, isfounded merely in the testimony of the apostles, who were eye-witnessesto those miracles of our Saviour, by which he proved his divine mission. Our evidence, then, for the truth of the _Christian_ religion is lessthan the evidence for the truth of our senses; because, even in thefirst authors of our religion, it was no greater; and it is evident itmust diminish in passing from them to their disciples; nor can any onerest such confidence in their testimony, as in the immediate object ofhis senses. But a weaker evidence can never destroy a stronger; andtherefore, were the doctrine of the real presence ever so clearlyrevealed in scripture, it were directly contrary to the rules of justreasoning to give our assent to it. It contradicts sense, though boththe scripture and tradition, on which it is supposed to be built, carrynot such evidence with them as sense; when they are considered merely asexternal evidences, and are not brought home to every one's breast, bythe immediate operation of the Holy Spirit. Nothing is so convenient as a decisive argument of this kind, whichmust at least _silence_ the most arrogant bigotry and superstition, andfree us from their impertinent solicitations. I flatter myself, that Ihave discovered an argument of a like nature, which, if just, will, withthe wise and learned, be an everlasting check to all kinds ofsuperstitious delusion, and consequently, will be useful as long as theworld endures. For so long, I presume, will the accounts of miracles andprodigies be found in all history, sacred and profane. 87. Though experience be our only guide in reasoning concerning mattersof fact; it must be acknowledged, that this guide is not altogetherinfallible, but in some cases is apt to lead us into errors. One, who inour climate, should expect better weather in any week of June than inone of December, would reason justly, and conformably to experience; butit is certain, that he may happen, in the event, to find himselfmistaken. However, we may observe, that, in such a case, he would haveno cause to complain of experience; because it commonly informs usbeforehand of the uncertainty, by that contrariety of events, which wemay learn from a diligent observation. All effects follow not with likecertainty from their supposed causes. Some events are found, in allcountries and all ages, to have been constantly conjoined together:Others are found to have been more variable, and sometimes to disappointour expectations; so that, in our reasonings concerning matter of fact, there are all imaginable degrees of assurance, from the highestcertainty to the lowest species of moral evidence. A wise man, therefore, proportions his belief to the evidence. In suchconclusions as are founded on an infallible experience, he expects theevent with the last degree of assurance, and regards his past experienceas a full _proof_ of the future existence of that event. In othercases, he proceeds with more caution: He weighs the oppositeexperiments: He considers which side is supported by the greater numberof experiments: to that side he inclines, with doubt and hesitation; andwhen at last he fixes his judgement, the evidence exceeds not what weproperly call _probability_. All probability, then, supposes anopposition of experiments and observations, where the one side is foundto overbalance the other, and to produce a degree of evidence, proportioned to the superiority. A hundred instances or experiments onone side, and fifty on another, afford a doubtful expectation of anyevent; though a hundred uniform experiments, with only one that iscontradictory, reasonably beget a pretty strong degree of assurance. Inall cases, we must balance the opposite experiments, where they areopposite, and deduct the smaller number from the greater, in order toknow the exact force of the superior evidence. 88. To apply these principles to a particular instance; we may observe, that there is no species of reasoning more common, more useful, and evennecessary to human life, than that which is derived from the testimonyof men, and the reports of eye-witnesses and spectators. This species ofreasoning, perhaps, one may deny to be founded on the relation of causeand effect. I shall not dispute about a word. It will be sufficient toobserve that our assurance in any argument of this kind is derived fromno other principle than our observation of the veracity of humantestimony, and of the usual conformity of facts to the reports ofwitnesses. It being a general maxim, that no objects have anydiscoverable connexion together, and that all the inferences, which wecan draw from one to another, are founded merely on our experience oftheir constant and regular conjunction; it is evident, that we ought notto make an exception to this maxim in favour of human testimony, whoseconnexion with any event seems, in itself, as little necessary as anyother. Were not the memory tenacious to a certain degree, had not mencommonly an inclination to truth and a principle of probity; were theynot sensible to shame, when detected in a falsehood: Were not these, Isay, discovered by experience to be qualities, inherent in human nature, we should never repose the least confidence in human testimony. A mandelirious, or noted for falsehood and villany, has no manner ofauthority with us. And as the evidence, derived from witnesses and human testimony, isfounded on past experience, so it varies with the experience, and isregarded either as a _proof_ or a _probability_, according as theconjunction between any particular kind of report and any kind of objecthas been found to be constant or variable. There are a number ofcircumstances to be taken into consideration in all judgements of thiskind; and the ultimate standard, by which we determine all disputes, that may arise concerning them, is always derived from experience andobservation. Where this experience is not entirely uniform on any side, it is attended with an unavoidable contrariety in our judgements, andwith the same opposition and mutual destruction of argument as in everyother kind of evidence. We frequently hesitate concerning the reports ofothers. We balance the opposite circumstances, which cause any doubt oruncertainty; and when we discover a superiority on any side, we inclineto it; but still with a diminution of assurance, in proportion to theforce of its antagonist. 89. This contrariety of evidence, in the present case, may be derivedfrom several different causes; from the opposition of contrarytestimony; from the character or number of the witnesses; from themanner of their delivering their testimony; or from the union of allthese circumstances. We entertain a suspicion concerning any matter offact, when the witnesses contradict each other; when they are but few, or of a doubtful character; when they have an interest in what theyaffirm; when they deliver their testimony with hesitation, or on thecontrary, with too violent asseverations. There are many otherparticulars of the same kind, which may diminish or destroy the force ofany argument, derived from human testimony. Suppose, for instance, that the fact, which the testimony endeavours toestablish, partakes of the extraordinary and the marvellous; in thatcase, the evidence, resulting from the testimony, admits of adiminution, greater or less, in proportion as the fact is more or lessunusual. The reason why we place any credit in witnesses and historians, is not derived from any _connexion_, which we perceive _a priori_, between testimony and reality, but because we are accustomed to find aconformity between them. But when the fact attested is such a one as hasseldom fallen under our observation, here is a contest of two oppositeexperiences; of which the one destroys the other, as far as its forcegoes, and the superior can only operate on the mind by the force, whichremains. The very same principle of experience, which gives us a certaindegree of assurance in the testimony of witnesses, gives us also, inthis case, another degree of assurance against the fact, which theyendeavour to establish; from which contradition there necessarily arisesa counterpoize, and mutual destruction of belief and authority. _I should not believe such a story were it told me by Cato_, was aproverbial saying in Rome, even during the lifetime of thatphilosophical patriot. [20] The incredibility of a fact, it was allowed, might invalidate so great an authority. [20] Plutarch, in vita Catonis. The Indian prince, who refused to believe the first relations concerningthe effects of frost, reasoned justly; and it naturally required verystrong testimony to engage his assent to facts, that arose from a stateof nature, with which he was unacquainted, and which bore so littleanalogy to those events, of which he had had constant and uniformexperience. Though they were not contrary to his experience, they werenot conformable to it. [21] [21] No Indian, it is evident, could have experience that water did not freeze in cold climates. This is placing nature in a situation quite unknown to him; and it is impossible for him to tell _a priori _what will result from it. It is making a new experiment, the consequence of which is always uncertain. One may sometimes conjecture from analogy what will follow; but still this is but conjecture. And it must be confessed, that, in the present case of freezing, the event follows contrary to the rules of analogy, and is such as a rational Indian would not look for. The operations of cold upon water are not gradual, according to the degrees of cold; but whenever it comes to the freezing point, the water passes in a moment, from the utmost liquidity to perfect hardness. Such an event, therefore, may be denominated _extraordinary_, and requires a pretty strong testimony, to render it credible to people in a warm climate: But still it is not _miraculous_, nor contrary to uniform experience of the course of nature in cases where all the circumstances are the same. The inhabitants of Sumatra have always seen water fluid in their own climate, and the freezing of their rivers ought to be deemed a prodigy: But they never saw water in Muscovy during the winter; and therefore they cannot reasonably be positive what would there be the consequence. 90. But in order to encrease the probability against the testimony ofwitnesses, let us suppose, that the fact, which they affirm, instead ofbeing only marvellous, is really miraculous; and suppose also, that thetestimony considered apart and in itself, amounts to an entire proof; inthat case, there is proof against proof, of which the strongest mustprevail, but still with a diminution of its force, in proportion to thatof its antagonist. A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and as a firm andunalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against amiracle, from the very nature of the fact, is as entire as any argumentfrom experience can possibly be imagined. Why is it more than probable, that all men must die; that lead cannot, of itself, remain suspended inthe air; that fire consumes wood, and is extinguished by water; unlessit be, that these events are found agreeable to the laws of nature, andthere is required a violation of these laws, or in other words, amiracle to prevent them? Nothing is esteemed a miracle, if it everhappen in the common course of nature. It is no miracle that a man, seemingly in good health, should die on a sudden: because such a kind ofdeath, though more unusual than any other, has yet been frequentlyobserved to happen. But it is a miracle, that a dead man should come tolife; because that has never been observed in any age or country. Theremust, therefore, be a uniform experience against every miraculous event, otherwise the event would not merit that appellation. And as a uniformexperience amounts to a proof, there is here a direct and full _proof_, from the nature of the fact, against the existence of any miracle; norcan such a proof be destroyed, or the miracle rendered credible, but byan opposite proof, which is superior. [22] [22] Sometimes an event may not, _in itself_, seem to be contrary to the laws of nature, and yet, if it were real, it might, by reason of some circumstances, be denominated a miracle; because, in _fact_, it is contrary to these laws. Thus if a person, claiming a divine authority, should command a sick person to be well, a healthful man to fall down dead, the clouds to pour rain, the winds to blow, in short, should order many natural events, which immediately follow upon his command; these might justly be esteemed miracles, because they are really, in this case, contrary to the laws of nature. For if any suspicion remain, that the event and command concurred by accident, there is no miracle and no transgression of the laws of nature. If this suspicion be removed, there is evidently a miracle, and a transgression of these laws; because nothing can be more contrary to nature than that the voice or command of a man should have such an influence. A miracle may be accurately defined, _a transgression of a law of nature by a particular volition of the Deity, or by the interposition of some invisible agent_. A miracle may either be discoverable by men or not. This alters not its nature and essence. The raising of a house or ship into the air is a visible miracle. The raising of a feather, when the wind wants ever so little of a force requisite for that purpose, is as real a miracle, though not so sensible with regard to us. 91. The plain consequence is (and it is a general maxim worthy of ourattention), 'That no testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle, unless the testimony be of such a kind, that its falsehood would be moremiraculous, than the fact, which it endeavours to establish; and even inthat case there is a mutual destruction of arguments, and the superioronly gives us an assurance suitable to that degree of force, whichremains, after deducting the inferior. ' When anyone tells me, that hesaw a dead man restored to life, I immediately consider with myself, whether it be more probable, that this person should either deceive orbe deceived, or that the fact, which he relates, should really havehappened. I weigh the one miracle against the other; and according tothe superiority, which I discover, I pronounce my decision, and alwaysreject the greater miracle. If the falsehood of his testimony would bemore miraculous, than the event which he relates; then, and not tillthen, can he pretend to command my belief or opinion. PART II. 92. In the foregoing reasoning we have supposed, that the testimony, upon which a miracle is founded, may possibly amount to an entire proof, and that the falsehood of that testimony would be a real prodigy: But itis easy to shew, that we have been a great deal too liberal in ourconcession, and that there never was a miraculous event established onso full an evidence. For _first_, there is not to be found, in all history, any miracleattested by a sufficient number of men, of such unquestioned good-sense, education, and learning, as to secure us against all delusion inthemselves; of such undoubted integrity, as to place them beyond allsuspicion of any design to deceive others; of such credit and reputationin the eyes of mankind, as to have a great deal to lose in case of theirbeing detected in any falsehood; and at the same time, attesting factsperformed in such a public manner and in so celebrated a part of theworld, as to render the detection unavoidable: All which circumstancesare requisite to give us a full assurance in the testimony of men. 93. _Secondly_. We may observe in human nature a principle which, ifstrictly examined, will be found to diminish extremely the assurance, which we might, from human testimony, have, in any kind of prodigy. Themaxim, by which we commonly conduct ourselves in our reasonings, is, that the objects, of which we have no experience, resembles those, ofwhich we have; that what we have found to be most usual is always mostprobable; and that where there is an opposition of arguments, we oughtto give the preference to such as are founded on the greatest number ofpast observations. But though, in proceeding by this rule, we readilyreject any fact which is unusual and incredible in an ordinary degree;yet in advancing farther, the mind observes not always the same rule;but when anything is affirmed utterly absurd and miraculous, it ratherthe more readily admits of such a fact, upon account of that verycircumstance, which ought to destroy all its authority. The passion of_surprise_ and _wonder_, arising from miracles, being an agreeableemotion, gives a sensible tendency towards the belief of those events, from which it is derived. And this goes so far, that even those whocannot enjoy this pleasure immediately, nor can believe those miraculousevents, of which they are informed, yet love to partake of thesatisfaction at second-hand or by rebound, and place a pride and delightin exciting the admiration of others. With what greediness are the miraculous accounts of travellers received, their descriptions of sea and land monsters, their relations ofwonderful adventures, strange men, and uncouth manners? But if thespirit of religion join itself to the love of wonder, there is an end ofcommon sense; and human testimony, in these circumstances, loses allpretensions to authority. A religionist may be an enthusiast, andimagine he sees what has no reality: he may know his narrative to befalse, and yet persevere in it, with the best intentions in the world, for the sake of promoting so holy a cause: or even where this delusionhas not place, vanity, excited by so strong a temptation, operates onhim more powerfully than on the rest of mankind in any othercircumstances; and self-interest with equal force. His auditors may nothave, and commonly have not, sufficient judgement to canvass hisevidence: what judgement they have, they renounce by principle, in thesesublime and mysterious subjects: or if they were ever so willing toemploy it, passion and a heated imagination disturb the regularity ofits operations. Their credulity increases his impudence: and hisimpudence overpowers their credulity. Eloquence, when at its highest pitch, leaves little room for reason orreflection; but addressing itself entirely to the fancy or theaffections, captivates the willing hearers, and subdues theirunderstanding. Happily, this pitch it seldom attains. But what a Tullyor a Demosthenes could scarcely effect over a Roman or Athenianaudience, every _Capuchin_, every itinerant or stationary teacher canperform over the generality of mankind, and in a higher degree, bytouching such gross and vulgar passions. The many instances of forged miracles, and prophecies, and supernaturalevents, which, in all ages, have either been detected by contraryevidence, or which detect themselves by their absurdity, provesufficiently the strong propensity of mankind to the extraordinary andthe marvellous, and ought reasonably to beget a suspicion against allrelations of this kind. This is our natural way of thinking, even withregard to the most common and most credible events. For instance: Thereis no kind of report which rises so easily, and spreads so quickly, especially in country places and provincial towns, as those concerningmarriages; insomuch that two young persons of equal condition never seeeach other twice, but the whole neighbourhood immediately join themtogether. The pleasure of telling a piece of news so interesting, ofpropagating it, and of being the first reporters of it, spreads theintelligence. And this is so well known, that no man of sense givesattention to these reports, till he find them confirmed by some greaterevidence. Do not the same passions, and others still stronger, inclinethe generality of mankind to believe and report, with the greatestvehemence and assurance, all religious miracles? 94. _Thirdly_. It forms a strong presumption against all supernaturaland miraculous relations, that they are observed chiefly to abound amongignorant and barbarous nations; or if a civilized people has ever givenadmission to any of them, that people will be found to have receivedthem from ignorant and barbarous ancestors, who transmitted them withthat inviolable sanction and authority, which always attend receivedopinions. When we peruse the first histories of all nations, we are aptto imagine ourselves transported into some new world; where the wholeframe of nature is disjointed, and every element performs its operationsin a different manner, from what it does at present. Battles, revolutions, pestilence, famine and death, are never the effect of thosenatural causes, which we experience. Prodigies, omens, oracles, judgements, quite obscure the few natural events, that are intermingledwith them. But as the former grow thinner every page, in proportion aswe advance nearer the enlightened ages, we soon learn, that there isnothing mysterious or supernatural in the case, but that all proceedsfrom the usual propensity of mankind towards the marvellous, and that, though this inclination may at intervals receive a check from sense andlearning, it can never be thoroughly extirpated from human nature. _It is strange_, a judicious reader is apt to say, upon the perusal ofthese wonderful historians, _that such prodigious_ _events never happenin our days_. But it is nothing strange, I hope, that men should lie inall ages. You must surely have seen instances enough of that frailty. You have yourself heard many such marvellous relations started, which, being treated with scorn by all the wise and judicious, have at lastbeen abandoned even by the vulgar. Be assured, that those renowned lies, which have spread and flourished to such a monstrous height, arose fromlike beginnings; but being sown in a more proper soil, shot up at lastinto prodigies almost equal to those which they relate. It was a wise policy in that false prophet, Alexander, who though nowforgotten, was once so famous, to lay the first scene of his imposturesin Paphlagonia, where, as Lucian tells us, the people were extremelyignorant and stupid, and ready to swallow even the grossest delusion. People at a distance, who are weak enough to think the matter at allworth enquiry, have no opportunity of receiving better information. Thestories come magnified to them by a hundred circumstances. Fools areindustrious in propagating the imposture; while the wise and learned arecontented, in general, to deride its absurdity, without informingthemselves of the particular facts, by which it may be distinctlyrefuted. And thus the impostor above mentioned was enabled to proceed, from his ignorant Paphlagonians, to the enlisting of votaries, evenamong the Grecian philosophers, and men of the most eminent rank anddistinction in Rome: nay, could engage the attention of that sageemperor Marcus Aurelius; so far as to make him trust the success of amilitary expedition to his delusive prophecies. The advantages are so great, of starting an imposture among an ignorantpeople, that, even though the delusion should be too gross to impose onthe generality of them (_which, though seldom, is sometimes the case_)it has a much better chance for succeeding in remote countries, than ifthe first scene had been laid in a city renowned for arts andknowledge. The most ignorant and barbarous of these barbarians carrythe report abroad. None of their countrymen have a large correspondence, or sufficient credit and authority to contradict and beat down thedelusion. Men's inclination to the marvellous has full opportunity todisplay itself. And thus a story, which is universally exploded in theplace where it was first started, shall pass for certain at a thousandmiles distance. But had Alexander fixed his residence at Athens, thephilosophers of that renowned mart of learning had immediately spread, throughout the whole Roman empire, their sense of the matter; which, being supported by so great authority, and displayed by all the force ofreason and eloquence, had entirely opened the eyes of mankind. It istrue; Lucian, passing by chance through Paphlagonia, had an opportunityof performing this good office. But, though much to be wished, it doesnot always happen, that every Alexander meets with a Lucian, ready toexpose and detect his impostures. 95. I may add as a _fourth_ reason, which diminishes the authority ofprodigies, that there is no testimony for any, even those which have notbeen expressly detected, that is not opposed by an infinite number ofwitnesses; so that not only the miracle destroys the credit oftestimony, but the testimony destroys itself. To make this the betterunderstood, let us consider, that, in matters of religion, whatever isdifferent is contrary; and that it is impossible the religions ofancient Rome, of Turkey, of Siam, and of China should, all of them, beestablished on any solid foundation. Every miracle, therefore, pretendedto have been wrought in any of these religions (and all of them aboundin miracles), as its direct scope is to establish the particular systemto which it is attributed; so has it the same force, though moreindirectly, to overthrow every other system. In destroying a rivalsystem, it likewise destroys the credit of those miracles, on which thatsystem was established; so that all the prodigies of differentreligions are to be regarded as contrary facts, and the evidences ofthese prodigies, whether weak or strong, as opposite to each other. According to this method of reasoning, when we believe any miracle ofMahomet or his successors, we have for our warrant the testimony of afew barbarous Arabians: And on the other hand, we are to regard theauthority of Titus Livius, Plutarch, Tacitus, and, in short, of all theauthors and witnesses, Grecian, Chinese, and Roman Catholic, who haverelated any miracle in their particular religion; I say, we are toregard their testimony in the same light as if they had mentioned thatMahometan miracle, and had in express terms contradicted it, with thesame certainty as they have for the miracle they relate. This argumentmay appear over subtile and refined; but is not in reality differentfrom the reasoning of a judge, who supposes, that the credit of twowitnesses, maintaining a crime against any one, is destroyed by thetestimony of two others, who affirm him to have been two hundred leaguesdistant, at the same instant when the crime is said to have beencommitted. 96. One of the best attested miracles in all profane history, is thatwhich Tacitus reports of Vespasian, who cured a blind man in Alexandria, by means of his spittle, and a lame man by the mere touch of his foot;in obedience to a vision of the god Serapis, who had enjoined them tohave recourse to the Emperor, for these miraculous cures. The story maybe seen in that fine historian[23]; where every circumstance seems to addweight to the testimony, and might be displayed at large with all theforce of argument and eloquence, if any one were now concerned toenforce the evidence of that exploded and idolatrous superstition. Thegravity, solidity, age, and probity of so great an emperor, who, throughthe whole course of his life, conversed in a familiar manner with hisfriends and courtiers, and never affected those extraordinary airs ofdivinity assumed by Alexander and Demetrius. The historian, acotemporary writer, noted for candour and veracity, and withal, thegreatest and most penetrating genius, perhaps, of all antiquity; and sofree from any tendency to credulity, that he even lies under thecontrary imputation, of atheism and profaneness: The persons, from whoseauthority he related the miracle, of established character for judgementand veracity, as we may well presume; eye-witnesses of the fact, andconfirming their testimony, after the Flavian family was despoiled ofthe empire, and could no longer give any reward, as the price of a lie. _Utrumque, qui interfuere, nunc quoque memorant, postquam nullummendacio pretium_. To which if we add the public nature of the facts, asrelated, it will appear, that no evidence can well be supposed strongerfor so gross and so palpable a falsehood. [23] Hist. Lib. Iv. Cap. 81. Suetonius gives nearly the same account _in vita_ Vesp. There is also a memorable story related by Cardinal de Retz, which maywell deserve our consideration. When that intriguing politician fledinto Spain, to avoid the persecution of his enemies, he passed throughSaragossa, the capital of Arragon, where he was shewn, in the cathedral, a man, who had served seven years as a door-keeper, and was well knownto every body in town, that had ever paid his devotions at that church. He had been seen, for so long a time, wanting a leg; but recovered thatlimb by the rubbing of holy oil upon the stump; and the cardinal assuresus that he saw him with two legs. This miracle was vouched by all thecanons of the church; and the whole company in town were appealed to fora confirmation of the fact; whom the cardinal found, by their zealousdevotion, to be thorough believers of the miracle. Here the relater wasalso cotemporary to the supposed prodigy, of an incredulous andlibertine character, as well as of great genius; the miracle of so_singular_ a nature as could scarcely admit of a counterfeit, and thewitnesses very numerous, and all of them, in a manner, spectators of thefact, to which they gave their testimony. And what adds mightily to theforce of the evidence, and may double our surprise on this occasion, is, that the cardinal himself, who relates the story, seems not to give anycredit to it, and consequently cannot be suspected of any concurrence inthe holy fraud. He considered justly, that it was not requisite, inorder to reject a fact of this nature, to be able accurately to disprovethe testimony, and to trace its falsehood, through all the circumstancesof knavery and credulity which produced it. He knew, that, as this wascommonly altogether impossible at any small distance of time and place;so was it extremely difficult, even where one was immediately present, by reason of the bigotry, ignorance, cunning, and roguery of a greatpart of mankind. He therefore concluded, like a just reasoner, that suchan evidence carried falsehood upon the very face of it, and that amiracle, supported by any human testimony, was more properly a subjectof derision than of argument. There surely never was a greater number of miracles ascribed to oneperson, than those, which were lately said to have been wrought inFrance upon the tomb of Abbé Paris, the famous Jansenist, with whosesanctity the people were so long deluded. The curing of the sick, givinghearing to the deaf, and sight to the blind, were every where talked ofas the usual effects of that holy sepulchre. But what is moreextraordinary; many of the miracles were immediately proved upon thespot, before judges of unquestioned integrity, attested by witnesses ofcredit and distinction, in a learned age, and on the most eminenttheatre that is now in the world. Nor is this all: a relation of themwas published and dispersed every where; nor were the _Jesuits_, thougha learned body, supported by the civil magistrate, and determinedenemies to those opinions, in whose favour the miracles were said tohave been wrought, ever able distinctly to refute or detect them[24]. Where shall we find such a number of circumstances, agreeing to thecorroboration of one fact? And what have we to oppose to such a cloud ofwitnesses, but the absolute impossibility or miraculous nature of theevents, which they relate? And this surely, in the eyes of allreasonable people, will alone be regarded as a sufficient refutation. [24] This book was writ by Mons. Montgeron, counsellor or judge of the parliament of Paris, a man of figure and character, who was also a martyr to the cause, and is now said to be somewhere in a dungeon on account of his book. There is another book in three volumes (called _Recueil des Miracles de l'Abbé_ Paris) giving an account of many of these miracles, and accompanied with prefatory discourses, which are very well written. There runs, however, through the whole of these a ridiculous comparison between the miracles of our Saviour and those of the Abbé; wherein it is asserted, that the evidence for the latter is equal to that for the former: As if the testimony of men could ever be put in the balance with that of God himself, who conducted the pen of the inspired writers. If these writers, indeed, were to be considered merely as human testimony, the French author is very moderate in his comparison; since he might, with some appearance of reason, pretend, that the Jansenist miracles much surpass the other in evidence and authority. The following circumstances are drawn from authentic papers, inserted in the above-mentioned book. Many of the miracles of Abbé Paris were proved immediately by witnesses before the officiality or bishop's court at Paris, under the eye of cardinal Noailles, whose character for integrity and capacity was never contested even by his enemies. His successor in the archbishopric was an enemy to the Jansenists, and for that reason promoted to the see by the court. Yet 22 rectors or curés of Paris, with infinite earnestness, press him to examine those miracles, which they assert to be known to the whole world, and undisputably certain: But he wisely forbore. The Molinist party had tried to discredit these miracles in one instance, that of Mademoiselle le Franc. But, besides that their proceedings were in many respects the most irregular in the world, particularly in citing only a few of the Jansenist witnesses, whom they tampered with: Besides this, I say, they soon found themselves overwhelmed by a cloud of new witnesses, one hundred and twenty in number, most of them persons of credit and substance in Paris, who gave oath for the miracle. This was accompanied with a solemn and earnest appeal to the parliament. But the parliament were forbidden by authority to meddle in the affair. It was at last observed, that where men are heated by zeal and enthusiasm, there is no degree of human testimony so strong as may not be procured for the greatest absurdity: And those who will be so silly as to examine the affair by that medium, and seek particular flaws in the testimony, are almost sure to be confounded. It must be a miserable imposture, indeed, that does not prevail in that contest. All who have been in France about that time have heard of the reputation of Mons. Heraut, the _lieutenant de Police_, whose vigilance, penetration, activity, and extensive intelligence have been much talked of. This magistrate, who by the nature of his office is almost absolute, was vested with full powers, on purpose to suppress or discredit these miracles; and he frequently seized immediately, and examined the witnesses and subjects of them: But never could reach any thing satisfactory against them. In the case of Mademoiselle Thibaut he sent the famous De Sylva to examine her; whose evidence is very curious. The physician declares, that it was impossible she could have been so ill as was proved by witnesses; because it was impossible she could, in so short a time, have recovered so perfectly as he found her. He reasoned, like a man of sense, from natural causes; but the opposite party told him, that the whole was a miracle, and that his evidence was the very best proof of it. The Molinists were in a sad dilemma. They durst not assert the absolute insufficiency of human evidence, to prove a miracle. They were obliged to say, that these miracles were wrought by witchcraft and the devil. But they were told, that this was the resource of the Jews of old. No Jansenist was ever embarrassed to account for the cessation of the miracles, when the church-yard was shut up by the king's edict. It was the touch of the tomb, which produced these extraordinary effects; and when no one could approach the tomb, no effects could be expected. God, indeed, could have thrown down the walls in a moment; but he is master of his own graces and works, and it belongs not to us to account for them. He did not throw down the walls of every city like those of Jericho, on the sounding of the rams horns, nor break up the prison of every apostle, like that of St. Paul. No less a man, than the Due de Chatillon, a duke and peer of France, of the highest rank and family, gives evidence of a miraculous cure, performed upon a servant of his, who had lived several years in his house with a visible and palpable infirmity. I shall conclude with observing, that no clergy are more celebrated for strictness of life and manners than the secular clergy of France, particularly the rectors or curés of Paris, who bear testimony to these impostures. The learning, genius, and probity of the gentlemen, and the austerity of the nuns of Port-Royal, have been much celebrated all over Europe. Yet they all give evidence for a miracle, wrought on the niece of the famous Pascal, whose sanctity of life, as well as extraordinary capacity, is well known. The famous Racine gives an account of this miracle in his famous history of Port-Royal, and fortifies it with all the proofs, which a multitude of nuns, priests, physicians, and men of the world, all of them of undoubted credit, could bestow upon it. Several men of letters, particularly the bishop of Tournay, thought this miracle so certain, as to employ it in the refutation of atheists and free-thinkers. The queen-regent of France, who was extremely prejudiced against the Port-Royal, sent her own physician to examine the miracle, who returned an absolute convert. In short, the supernatural cure was so uncontestable, that it saved, for a time, that famous monastery from the ruin with which it was threatened by the Jesuits. Had it been a cheat, it had certainly been detected by such sagacious and powerful antagonists, and must have hastened the ruin of the contrivers. Our divines, who can build up a formidable castle from such despicable materials; what a prodigious fabric could they have reared from these and many other circumstances, which I have not mentioned! How often would the great names of Pascal, Racine, Amaud, Nicole, have resounded in our ears? But if they be wise, they had better adopt the miracle, as being more worth, a thousand times, than all the rest of the collection. Besides, it may serve very much to their purpose. For that miracle was really performed by the touch of an authentic holy prickle of the holy thorn, which composed the holy crown, which, &c. 97. Is the consequence just, because some human testimony has the utmostforce and authority in some cases, when it relates the battle ofPhilippi or Pharsalia for instance; that therefore all kinds oftestimony must, in all cases, have equal force and authority? Supposethat the Caesarean and Pompeian factions had, each of them, claimed thevictory in these battles, and that the historians of each party haduniformly ascribed the advantage to their own side; how could mankind, at this distance, have been able to determine between them? Thecontrariety is equally strong between the miracles related by Herodotusor Plutarch, and those delivered by Mariana, Bede, or any monkishhistorian. The wise lend a very academic faith to every report which favours thepassion of the reporter; whether it magnifies his country, his family, or himself, or in any other way strikes in with his natural inclinationsand propensities. But what greater temptation than to appear amissionary, a prophet, an ambassador from heaven? Who would notencounter many dangers and difficulties, in order to attain so sublime acharacter? Or if, by the help of vanity and a heated imagination, a manhas first made a convert of himself, and entered seriously into thedelusion; who ever scruples to make use of pious frauds, in support ofso holy and meritorious a cause? The smallest spark may here kindle into the greatest flame; because thematerials are always prepared for it. The _avidum genus auricularum_[25], the gazing populace, receive greedily, without examination, whateversooths superstition, and promotes wonder. [25] Lucret. How many stories of this nature have, in all ages, been detected andexploded in their infancy? How many more have been celebrated for atime, and have afterwards sunk into neglect and oblivion? Where suchreports, therefore, fly about, the solution of the phenomenon isobvious; and we judge in conformity to regular experience andobservation, when we account for it by the known and natural principlesof credulity and delusion. And shall we, rather than have a recourse toso natural a solution, allow of a miraculous violation of the mostestablished laws of nature? I need not mention the difficulty of detecting a falsehood in anyprivate or even public history, at the place, where it is said tohappen; much more when the scene is removed to ever so small a distance. Even a court of judicature, with all the authority, accuracy, andjudgement, which they can employ, find themselves often at a loss todistinguish between truth and falsehood in the most recent actions. Butthe matter never comes to any issue, if trusted to the common method ofaltercations and debate and flying rumours; especially when men'spassions have taken part on either side. In the infancy of new religions, the wise and learned commonly esteemthe matter too inconsiderable to deserve their attention or regard. Andwhen afterwards they would willingly detect the cheat, in order toundeceive the deluded multitude, the season is now past, and the recordsand witnesses, which might clear up the matter, have perishedbeyond recovery. No means of detection remain, but those which must be drawn from thevery testimony itself of the reporters: and these, though alwayssufficient with the judicious and knowing, are commonly too fine to fallunder the comprehension of the vulgar. 98. Upon the whole, then, it appears, that no testimony for any kind ofmiracle has ever amounted to a probability, much less to a proof; andthat, even supposing it amounted to a proof, it would be opposed byanother proof; derived from the very nature of the fact, which it wouldendeavour to establish. It is experience only, which gives authority tohuman testimony; and it is the same experience, which assures us of thelaws of nature. When, therefore, these two kinds of experience arecontrary, we have nothing to do but substract the one from the other, and embrace an opinion, either on one side or the other, with thatassurance which arises from the remainder. But according to theprinciple here explained, this substraction, with regard to all popularreligions, amounts to an entire annihilation; and therefore we mayestablish it as a maxim, that no human testimony can have such force asto prove a miracle, and make it a just foundation for any such systemof religion. 99. I beg the limitations here made may be remarked, when I say, that amiracle can never be proved, so as to be the foundation of a system ofreligion. For I own, that otherwise, there may possibly be miracles, orviolations of the usual course of nature, of such a kind as to admit ofproof from human testimony; though, perhaps, it will be impossible tofind any such in all the records of history. Thus, suppose, all authors, in all languages, agree, that, from the first of January 1600, there wasa total darkness over the whole earth for eight days: suppose that thetradition of this extraordinary event is still strong and lively amongthe people: that all travellers, who return from foreign countries, bring us accounts of the same tradition, without the least variation orcontradiction: it is evident, that our present philosophers, instead ofdoubting the fact, ought to receive it as certain, and ought to searchfor the causes whence it might be derived. The decay, corruption, anddissolution of nature, is an event rendered probable by so manyanalogies, that any phenomenon, which seems to have a tendency towardsthat catastrophe, comes within the reach of human testimony, if thattestimony be very extensive and uniform. But suppose, that all the historians who treat of England, should agree, that, on the first of January 1600, Queen Elizabeth died; that bothbefore and after her death she was seen by her physicians and the wholecourt, as is usual with persons of her rank; that her successor wasacknowledged and proclaimed by the parliament; and that, after beinginterred a month, she again appeared, resumed the throne, and governedEngland for three years: I must confess that I should be surprised atthe concurrence of so many odd circumstances, but should not have theleast inclination to believe so miraculous an event. I should not doubtof her pretended death, and of those other public circumstances thatfollowed it: I should only assert it to have been pretended, and that itneither was, nor possibly could be real. You would in vain object to methe difficulty, and almost impossibility of deceiving the world in anaffair of such consequence; the wisdom and solid judgement of thatrenowned queen; with the little or no advantage which she could reapfrom so poor an artifice: All this might astonish me; but I would stillreply, that the knavery and folly of men are such common phenomena, thatI should rather believe the most extraordinary events to arise fromtheir concurrence, than admit of so signal a violation of the lawsof nature. But should this miracle be ascribed to any new system of religion; men, in all ages, have been so much imposed on by ridiculous stories of thatkind, that this very circumstance would be a full proof of a cheat, andsufficient, with all men of sense, not only to make them reject thefact, but even reject it without farther examination. Though the Beingto whom the miracle is ascribed, be, in this case, Almighty, it doesnot, upon that account, become a whit more probable; since it isimpossible for us to know the attributes or actions of such a Being, otherwise than from the experience which we have of his productions, inthe usual course of nature. This still reduces us to past observation, and obliges us to compare the instances of the violation of truth in thetestimony of men, with those of the violation of the laws of nature bymiracles, in order to judge which of them is most likely and probable. As the violations of truth are more common in the testimony concerningreligious miracles, than in that concerning any other matter of fact;this must diminish very much the authority of the former testimony, andmake us form a general resolution, never to lend any attention to it, with whatever specious pretence it may be covered. Lord Bacon seems to have embraced the same principles of reasoning. 'Weought, ' says he, 'to make a collection or particular history of allmonsters and prodigious births or productions, and in a word of everything new, rare, and extraordinary in nature. But this must be done withthe most severe scrutiny, lest we depart from truth. Above all, everyrelation must be considered as suspicious, which depends in any degreeupon religion, as the prodigies of Livy: And no less so, every thingthat is to be found in the writers of natural magic or alchimy, or suchauthors, who seem, all of them, to have an unconquerable appetite forfalsehood and fable[26]. ' [26] Nov. Org. Lib. Ii. Aph. 29. 100. I am the better pleased with the method of reasoning heredelivered, as I think it may serve to confound those dangerous friendsor disguised enemies to the _Christian Religion_, who have undertaken todefend it by the principles of human reason. Our most holy religion isfounded on _Faith_, not on reason; and it is a sure method of exposingit to put it to such a trial as it is, by no means, fitted to endure. Tomake this more evident, let us examine those miracles, related inscripture; and not to lose ourselves in too wide a field, let us confineourselves to such as we find in the _Pentateuch_, which we shallexamine, according to the principles of these pretended Christians, notas the word or testimony of God himself, but as the production of a merehuman writer and historian. Here then we are first to consider a book, presented to us by a barbarous and ignorant people, written in an agewhen they were still more barbarous, and in all probability long afterthe facts which it relates, corroborated by no concurring testimony, andresembling those fabulous accounts, which every nation gives of itsorigin. Upon reading this book, we find it full of prodigies andmiracles. It gives an account of a state of the world and of humannature entirely different from the present: Of our fall from that state:Of the age of man, extended to near a thousand years: Of the destructionof the world by a deluge: Of the arbitrary choice of one people, as thefavourites of heaven; and that people the countrymen of the author: Oftheir deliverance from bondage by prodigies the most astonishingimaginable: I desire any one to lay his hand upon his heart, and after aserious consideration declare, whether he thinks that the falsehood ofsuch a book, supported by such a testimony, would be more extraordinaryand miraculous than all the miracles it relates; which is, however, necessary to make it be received, according to the measures ofprobability above established. 101. What we have said of miracles may be applied, without anyvariation, to prophecies; and indeed, all prophecies are real miracles, and as such only, can be admitted as proofs of any revelation. If it didnot exceed the capacity of human nature to foretell future events, itwould be absurd to employ any prophecy as an argument for a divinemission or authority from heaven. So that, upon the whole, we mayconclude, that the _Christian Religion_ not only was at first attendedwith miracles, but even at this day cannot be believed by any reasonableperson without one. Mere reason is insufficient to convince us of itsveracity: And whoever is moved by _Faith_ to assent to it, is consciousof a continued miracle in his own person, which subverts all theprinciples of his understanding, and gives him a determination tobelieve what is most contrary to custom and experience. SECTION XI. OF A PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE AND OF A FUTURE STATE. 102. I was lately engaged in conversation with a friend who lovessceptical paradoxes; where, though he advanced many principles, of whichI can by no means approve, yet as they seem to be curious, and to bearsome relation to the chain of reasoning carried on throughout thisenquiry, I shall here copy them from my memory as accurately as I can, in order to submit them to the judgement of the reader. Our conversation began with my admiring the singular good fortune ofphilosophy, which, as it requires entire liberty above all otherprivileges, and chiefly flourishes from the free opposition ofsentiments and argumentation, received its first birth in an age andcountry of freedom and toleration, and was never cramped, even in itsmost extravagant principles, by any creeds, concessions, or penalstatutes. For, except the banishment of Protagoras, and the death ofSocrates, which last event proceeded partly from other motives, thereare scarcely any instances to be met with, in ancient history, of thisbigotted jealousy, with which the present age is so much infested. Epicurus lived at Athens to an advanced age, in peace and tranquillity:Epicureans[27] were even admitted to receive the sacerdotal character, and to officiate at the altar, in the most sacred rites of theestablished religion: And the public encouragement[28] of pensions andsalaries was afforded equally, by the wisest of all the Romanemperors[29], to the professors of every sect of philosophy. Howrequisite such kind of treatment was to philosophy, in her early youth, will easily be conceived, if we reflect, that, even at present, when shemay be supposed more hardy and robust, she bears with much difficultythe inclemency of the seasons, and those harsh winds of calumny andpersecution, which blow upon her. [27] Luciani [Greek: symp. Ae Lapithai]. [28] Luciani [Greek: eunouchos]. [29] Luciani and Dio. You admire, says my friend, as the singular good fortune of philosophy, what seems to result from the natural course of things, and to beunavoidable in every age and nation. This pertinacious bigotry, of whichyou complain, as so fatal to philosophy, is really her offspring, who, after allying with superstition, separates himself entirely from theinterest of his parent, and becomes her most inveterate enemy andpersecutor. Speculative dogmas of religion, the present occasions ofsuch furious dispute, could not possibly be conceived or admitted in theearly ages of the world; when mankind, being wholly illiterate, formedan idea of religion more suitable to their weak apprehension, andcomposed their sacred tenets of such tales chiefly as were the objectsof traditional belief, more than of argument or disputation. After thefirst alarm, therefore, was over, which arose from the new paradoxes andprinciples of the philosophers; these teachers seem ever after, duringthe ages of antiquity, to have lived in great harmony with theestablished superstition, and to have made a fair partition of mankindbetween them; the former claiming all the learned and wise, the latterpossessing all the vulgar and illiterate. 103. It seems then, say I, that you leave politics entirely out of thequestion, and never suppose, that a wise magistrate can justly bejealous of certain tenets of philosophy, such as those of Epicurus, which, denying a divine existence, and consequently a providence and afuture state, seem to loosen, in a great measure, the ties of morality, and may be supposed, for that reason, pernicious to the peace ofcivil society. I know, replied he, that in fact these persecutions never, in any age, proceeded from calm reason, or from experience of the perniciousconsequences of philosophy; but arose entirely from passion andprejudice. But what if I should advance farther, and assert, that ifEpicurus had been accused before the people, by any of the _sycophants_or informers of those days, he could easily have defended his cause, andproved his principles of philosophy to be as salutary as those of hisadversaries, who endeavoured, with such zeal, to expose him to thepublic hatred and jealousy? I wish, said I, you would try your eloquence upon so extraordinary atopic, and make a speech for Epicurus, which might satisfy, not the mobof Athens, if you will allow that ancient and polite city to havecontained any mob, but the more philosophical part of his audience, suchas might be supposed capable of comprehending his arguments. The matter would not be difficult, upon such conditions, replied he: Andif you please, I shall suppose myself Epicurus for a moment, and makeyou stand for the Athenian people, and shall deliver you such anharangue as will fill all the urn with white beans, and leave not ablack one to gratify the malice of my adversaries. Very well: Pray proceed upon these suppositions. 104. I come hither, O ye Athenians, to justify in your assembly what Imaintained in my school, and I find myself impeached by furiousantagonists, instead of reasoning with calm and dispassionate enquirers. Your deliberations, which of right should be directed to questions ofpublic good, and the interest of the commonwealth, are diverted to thedisquisitions of speculative philosophy; and these magnificent, butperhaps fruitless enquiries, take place of your more familiar but moreuseful occupations. But so far as in me lies, I will prevent this abuse. We shall not here dispute concerning the origin and government ofworlds. We shall only enquire how far such questions concern the publicinterest. And if I can persuade you, that they are entirely indifferentto the peace of society and security of government, I hope that you willpresently send us back to our schools, there to examine, at leisure, thequestion the most sublime, but at the same time, the most speculative ofall philosophy. The religious philosophers, not satisfied with the tradition of yourforefathers, and doctrine of your priests (in which I willinglyacquiesce), indulge a rash curiosity, in trying how far they canestablish religion upon the principles of reason; and they therebyexcite, instead of satisfying, the doubts, which naturally arise from adiligent and scrutinous enquiry. They paint, in the most magnificentcolours, the order, beauty, and wise arrangement of the universe; andthen ask, if such a glorious display of intelligence could proceed fromthe fortuitous concourse of atoms, or if chance could produce what thegreatest genius can never sufficiently admire. I shall not examine thejustness of this argument. I shall allow it to be as solid as myantagonists and accusers can desire. It is sufficient, if I can prove, from this very reasoning, that the question is entirely speculative, andthat, when, in my philosophical disquisitions, I deny a providence and afuture state, I undermine not the foundations of society, but advanceprinciples, which they themselves, upon their own topics, if they argueconsistently, must allow to be solid and satisfactory. 105. You then, who are my accusers, have acknowledged, that the chief orsole argument for a divine existence (which I never questioned) isderived from the order of nature; where there appear such marks ofintelligence and design, that you think it extravagant to assign for itscause, either chance, or the blind and unguided force of matter. Youallow, that this is an argument drawn from effects to causes. From theorder of the work, you infer, that there must have been project andforethought in the workman. If you cannot make out this point, youallow, that your conclusion fails; and you pretend not to establish theconclusion in a greater latitude than the phenomena of nature willjustify. These are your concessions. I desire you to mark theconsequences. When we infer any particular cause from an effect, we must proportionthe one to the other, and can never be allowed to ascribe to the causeany qualities, but what are exactly sufficient to produce the effect. Abody of ten ounces raised in any scale may serve as a proof, that thecounterbalancing weight exceeds ten ounces; but can never afford areason that it exceeds a hundred. If the cause, assigned for any effect, be not sufficient to produce it, we must either reject that cause, oradd to it such qualities as will give it a just proportion to theeffect. But if we ascribe to it farther qualities, or affirm it capableof producing other effects, we can only indulge the licence ofconjecture, and arbitrarily suppose the existence of qualities andenergies, without reason or authority. The same rule holds, whether the cause assigned be brute unconsciousmatter, or a rational intelligent being. If the cause be known only bythe effect, we never ought to ascribe to it any qualities, beyond whatare precisely requisite to produce the effect: Nor can we, by any rulesof just reasoning, return back from the cause, and infer other effectsfrom it, beyond those by which alone it is known to us. No one, merelyfrom the sight of one of Zeuxis's pictures, could know, that he was alsoa statuary or architect, and was an artist no less skilful in stone andmarble than in colours. The talents and taste, displayed in theparticular work before us; these we may safely conclude the workman tobe possessed of. The cause must be proportioned to the effect; and ifwe exactly and precisely proportion it, we shall never find in it anyqualities, that point farther, or afford an inference concerning anyother design or performance. Such qualities must be somewhat beyond whatis merely requisite for producing the effect, which we examine. 106. Allowing, therefore, the gods to be the authors of the existence ororder of the universe; it follows, that they possess that precise degreeof power, intelligence, and benevolence, which appears in theirworkmanship; but nothing farther can ever be proved, except we call inthe assistance of exaggeration and flattery to supply the defects ofargument and reasoning. So far as the traces of any attributes, atpresent, appear, so far may we conclude these attributes to exist. Thesupposition of farther attributes is mere hypothesis; much more thesupposition, that, in distant regions of space or periods of time, therehas been, or will be, a more magnificent display of these attributes, and a scheme of administration more suitable to such imaginary virtues. We can never be allowed to mount up from the universe, the effect, toJupiter, the cause; and then descend downwards, to infer any new effectfrom that cause; as if the present effects alone were not entirelyworthy of the glorious attributes, which we ascribe to that deity. Theknowledge of the cause being derived solely from the effect, they mustbe exactly adjusted to each other; and the one can never refer toanything farther, or be the foundation of any new inference andconclusion. You find certain phenomena in nature. You seek a cause or author. Youimagine that you have found him. You afterwards become so enamoured ofthis offspring of your brain, that you imagine it impossible, but hemust produce something greater and more perfect than the present sceneof things, which is so full of ill and disorder. You forget, that thissuperlative intelligence and benevolence are entirely imaginary, or, atleast, without any foundation in reason; and that you have no ground toascribe to him any qualities, but what you see he has actually exertedand displayed in his productions. Let your gods, therefore, Ophilosophers, be suited to the present appearances of nature: andpresume not to alter these appearances by arbitrary suppositions, inorder to suit them to the attributes, which you so fondly ascribe toyour deities. 107. When priests and poets, supported by your authority, O Athenians, talk of a golden or silver age, which preceded the present state of viceand misery, I hear them with attention and with reverence. But whenphilosophers, who pretend to neglect authority, and to cultivate reason, hold the same discourse, I pay them not, I own, the same obsequioussubmission and pious deference. I ask; who carried them into thecelestial regions, who admitted them into the councils of the gods, whoopened to them the book of fate, that they thus rashly affirm, thattheir deities have executed, or will execute, any purpose beyond whathas actually appeared? If they tell me, that they have mounted on thesteps or by the gradual ascent of reason, and by drawing inferences fromeffects to causes, I still insist, that they have aided the ascent ofreason by the wings of imagination; otherwise they could not thus changetheir manner of inference, and argue from causes to effects; presuming, that a more perfect production than the present world would be moresuitable to such perfect beings as the gods, and forgetting that theyhave no reason to ascribe to these celestial beings any perfection orany attribute, but what can be found in the present world. Hence all the fruitless industry to account for the ill appearances ofnature, and save the honour of the gods; while we must acknowledge thereality of that evil and disorder, with which the world so much abounds. The obstinate and intractable qualities of matter, we are told, or theobservance of general laws, or some such reason, is the sole cause, which controlled the power and benevolence of Jupiter, and obliged himto create mankind and every sensible creature so imperfect and sounhappy. These attributes then, are, it seems, beforehand, taken forgranted, in their greatest latitude. And upon that supposition, I ownthat such conjectures may, perhaps, be admitted as plausible solutionsof the ill phenomena. But still I ask; Why take these attributes forgranted, or why ascribe to the cause any qualities but what actuallyappear in the effect? Why torture your brain to justify the course ofnature upon suppositions, which, for aught you know, may be entirelyimaginary, and of which there are to be found no traces in the courseof nature? The religious hypothesis, therefore, must be considered only as aparticular method of accounting for the visible phenomena of theuniverse: but no just reasoner will ever presume to infer from it anysingle fact, and alter or add to the phenomena, in any singleparticular. If you think, that the appearances of things prove suchcauses, it is allowable for you to draw an inference concerning theexistence of these causes. In such complicated and sublime subjects, every one should be indulged in the liberty of conjecture and argument. But here you ought to rest. If you come backward, and arguing from yourinferred causes, conclude, that any other fact has existed, or willexist, in the course of nature, which may serve as a fuller display ofparticular attributes; I must admonish you, that you have departed fromthe method of reasoning, attached to the present subject, and havecertainly added something to the attributes of the cause, beyond whatappears in the effect; otherwise you could never, with tolerable senseor propriety, add anything to the effect, in order to render it moreworthy of the cause. 108. Where, then, is the odiousness of that doctrine, which I teach inmy school, or rather, which I examine in my gardens? Or what do you findin this whole question, wherein the security of good morals, or thepeace and order of society, is in the least concerned? I deny a providence, you say, and supreme governor of the world, whoguides the course of events, and punishes the vicious with infamy anddisappointment, and rewards the virtuous with honour and success, in alltheir undertakings. But surely, I deny not the course itself of events, which lies open to every one's inquiry and examination. I acknowledge, that, in the present order of things, virtue is attended with more peaceof mind than vice, and meets with a more favourable reception from theworld. I am sensible, that, according to the past experience of mankind, friendship is the chief joy of human life, and moderation the onlysource of tranquillity and happiness. I never balance between thevirtuous and the vicious course of life; but am sensible, that, to awell-disposed mind, every advantage is on the side of the former. Andwhat can you say more, allowing all your suppositions and reasonings?You tell me, indeed, that this disposition of things proceeds fromintelligence and design. But whatever it proceeds from, the dispositionitself, on which depends our happiness or misery, and consequently ourconduct and deportment in life is still the same. It is still open forme, as well as you, to regulate my behaviour, by my experience of pastevents. And if you affirm, that, while a divine providence is allowed, and a supreme distributive justice in the universe, I ought to expectsome more particular reward of the good, and punishment of the bad, beyond the ordinary course of events; I here find the same fallacy, which I have before endeavoured to detect. You persist in imagining, that, if we grant that divine existence, for which you so earnestlycontend, you may safely infer consequences from it, and add somethingto the experienced order of nature, by arguing from the attributes whichyou ascribe to your gods. You seem not to remember, that all yourreasonings on this subject can only be drawn from effects to causes; andthat every argument, deducted from causes to effects, must of necessitybe a gross sophism; since it is impossible for you to know anything ofthe cause, but what you have antecedently, not inferred, but discoveredto the full, in the effect. 109. But what must a philosopher think of those vain reasoners, who, instead of regarding the present scene of things as the sole object oftheir contemplation, so far reverse the whole course of nature, as torender this life merely a passage to something farther; a porch, whichleads to a greater, and vastly different building; a prologue, whichserves only to introduce the piece, and give it more grace andpropriety? Whence, do you think, can such philosophers derive their ideaof the gods? From their own conceit and imagination surely. For if theyderived it from the present phenomena, it would never point to anythingfarther, but must be exactly adjusted to them. That the divinity may_possibly_ be endowed with attributes, which we have never seen exerted;may be governed by principles of action, which we cannot discover to besatisfied: all this will freely be allowed. But still this is mere_possibility_ and hypothesis. We never can have reason to _infer_ anyattributes, or any principles of action in him, but so far as we knowthem to have been exerted and satisfied. _Are there any marks of a distributive justice in the world?_ If youanswer in the affirmative, I conclude, that, since justice here exertsitself, it is satisfied. If you reply in the negative, I conclude, thatyou have then no reason to ascribe justice, in our sense of it, to thegods. If you hold a medium between affirmation and negation, by saying, that the justice of the gods, at present, exerts itself in part, but notin its full extent; I answer, that you have no reason to give it anyparticular extent, but only so far as you see it, _at present_, exert itself. 110. Thus I bring the dispute, O Athenians, to a short issue with myantagonists. The course of nature lies open to my contemplation as wellas to theirs. The experienced train of events is the great standard, bywhich we all regulate our conduct. Nothing else can be appealed to inthe field, or in the senate. Nothing else ought ever to be heard of inthe school, or in the closet. In vain would our limited understandingbreak through those boundaries, which are too narrow for our fondimagination. While we argue from the course of nature, and infer aparticular intelligent cause, which first bestowed, and still preservesorder in the universe, we embrace a principle, which is both uncertainand useless. It is uncertain; because the subject lies entirely beyondthe reach of human experience. It is useless; because our knowledge ofthis cause being derived entirely from the course of nature, we cannever, according to the rules of just reasoning, return back from thecause with any new inference, or making additions to the common andexperienced course of nature, establish any new principles of conductand behaviour. 111. I observe (said I, finding he had finished his harangue) that youneglect not the artifice of the demagogues of old; and as you werepleased to make me stand for the people, you insinuate yourself into myfavour by embracing those principles, to which, you know, I have alwaysexpressed a particular attachment. But allowing you to make experience(as indeed I think you ought) the only standard of our judgementconcerning this, and all other questions of fact; I doubt not but, fromthe very same experience, to which you appeal, it may be possible torefute this reasoning, which you have put into the mouth of Epicurus. If you saw, for instance, a half-finished building, surrounded withheaps of brick and stone and mortar, and all the instruments of masonry;could you not _infer_ from the effect, that it was a work of design andcontrivance? And could you not return again, from this inferred cause, to infer new additions to the effect, and conclude, that the buildingwould soon be finished, and receive all the further improvements, whichart could bestow upon it? If you saw upon the sea-shore the print of onehuman foot, you would conclude, that a man had passed that way, and thathe had also left the traces of the other foot, though effaced by therolling of the sands or inundation of the waters. Why then do you refuseto admit the same method of reasoning with regard to the order ofnature? Consider the world and the present life only as an imperfectbuilding, from which you can infer a superior intelligence; and arguingfrom that superior intelligence, which can leave nothing imperfect; whymay you not infer a more finished scheme or plan, which will receive itscompletion in some distant point of space or time? Are not these methodsof reasoning exactly similar? And under what pretence can you embracethe one, while you reject the other? 112. The infinite difference of the subjects, replied he, is asufficient foundation for this difference in my conclusions. In works of_human_ art and contrivance, it is allowable to advance from the effectto the cause, and returning back from the cause, to form new inferencesconcerning the effect, and examine the alterations, which it hasprobably undergone, or may still undergo. But what is the foundation ofthis method of reasoning? Plainly this; that man is a being, whom weknow by experience, whose motives and designs we are acquainted with, and whose projects and inclinations have a certain connexion andcoherence, according to the laws which nature has established for thegovernment of such a creature. When, therefore, we find, that any workhas proceeded from the skill and industry of man; as we are otherwiseacquainted with the nature of the animal, we can draw a hundredinferences concerning what may be expected from him; and theseinferences will all be founded in experience and observation. But did weknow man only from the single work or production which we examine, itwere impossible for us to argue in this manner; because our knowledge ofall the qualities, which we ascribe to him, being in that case derivedfrom the production, it is impossible they could point to anythingfarther, or be the foundation of any new inference. The print of a footin the sand can only prove, when considered alone, that there was somefigure adapted to it, by which it was produced: but the print of a humanfoot proves likewise, from our other experience, that there was probablyanother foot, which also left its impression, though effaced by time orother accidents. Here we mount from the effect to the cause; anddescending again from the cause, infer alterations in the effect; butthis is not a continuation of the same simple chain of reasoning. Wecomprehend in this case a hundred other experiences and observations, concerning the _usual_ figure and members of that species of animal, without which this method of argument must be considered as fallaciousand sophistical. 113. The case is not the same with our reasonings from the works ofnature. The Deity is known to us only by his productions, and is asingle being in the universe, not comprehended under any species orgenus, from whose experienced attributes or qualities, we can, byanalogy, infer any attribute or quality in him. As the universe shewswisdom and goodness, we infer wisdom and goodness. As it shews aparticular degree of these perfections, we infer a particular degree ofthem, precisely adapted to the effect which we examine. But fartherattributes or farther degrees of the same attributes, we can never beauthorised to infer or suppose, by any rules of just reasoning. Now, without some such licence of supposition, it is impossible for us toargue from the cause, or infer any alteration in the effect, beyond whathas immediately fallen under our observation. Greater good produced bythis Being must still prove a greater degree of goodness: a moreimpartial distribution of rewards and punishments must proceed from agreater regard to justice and equity. Every supposed addition to theworks of nature makes an addition to the attributes of the Author ofnature; and consequently, being entirely unsupported by any reason orargument, can never be admitted but as mere conjecture andhypothesis[30]. [30] In general, it may, I think, be established as a maxim, that where any cause is known only by its particular effects, it must be impossible to infer any new effects from that cause; since the qualities, which are requisite to produce these new effects along with the former, must either be different, or superior, or of more extensive operation, than those which simply produced the effect, whence alone the cause is supposed to be known to us. We can never, therefore, have any reason to suppose the existence of these qualities. To say, that the new effects proceed only from a continuation of the same energy, which is already known from the first effects, will not remove the difficulty. For even granting this to be the case (which can seldom be supposed), the very continuation and exertion of a like energy (for it is impossible it can be absolutely the same), I say, this exertion of a like energy, in a different period of space and time, is a very arbitrary supposition, and what there cannot possibly be any traces of in the effects, from which all our knowledge of the cause is originally derived. Let the _inferred_ cause be exactly proportioned (as it should be) to the known effect; and it is impossible that it can possess any qualities, from which new or different effects can be _inferred_. The great source of our mistake in this subject, and of the unboundedlicence of conjecture, which we indulge, is, that we tacitly considerourselves, as in the place of the Supreme Being, and conclude, that hewill, on every occasion, observe the same conduct, which we ourselves, in his situation, would have embraced as reasonable and eligible. But, besides that the ordinary course of nature may convince us, that almosteverything is regulated by principles and maxims very different fromours; besides this, I say, it must evidently appear contrary to allrules of analogy to reason, from the intentions and projects of men, tothose of a Being so different, and so much superior. In human nature, there is a certain experienced coherence of designs and inclinations; sothat when, from any fact, we have discovered one intention of any man, it may often be reasonable, from experience, to infer another, and drawa long chain of conclusions concerning his past or future conduct. Butthis method of reasoning can never have place with regard to a Being, soremote and incomprehensible, who bears much less analogy to any otherbeing in the universe than the sun to a waxen taper, and who discovershimself only by some faint traces or outlines, beyond which we have noauthority to ascribe to him any attribute or perfection. What we imagineto be a superior perfection, may really be a defect. Or were it ever somuch a perfection, the ascribing of it to the Supreme Being, where itappears not to have been really exerted, to the full, in his works, savours more of flattery and panegyric, than of just reasoning and soundphilosophy. All the philosophy, therefore, in the world, and all thereligion, which is nothing but a species of philosophy, will never beable to carry us beyond the usual course of experience, or give usmeasures of conduct and behaviour different from those which arefurnished by reflections on common life. No new fact can ever beinferred from the religious hypothesis; no event foreseen or foretold;no reward or punishment expected or dreaded, beyond what is alreadyknown by practice and observation. So that my apology for Epicurus willstill appear solid and satisfactory; nor have the political interestsof society any connexion with the philosophical disputes concerningmetaphysics and religion. 114. There is still one circumstance, replied I, which you seem to haveoverlooked. Though I should allow your premises, I must deny yourconclusion. You conclude, that religious doctrines and reasonings _can_have no influence on life, because they _ought_ to have no influence;never considering, that men reason not in the same manner you do, butdraw many consequences from the belief of a divine Existence, andsuppose that the Deity will inflict punishments on vice, and bestowrewards on virtue, beyond what appear in the ordinary course of nature. Whether this reasoning of theirs be just or not, is no matter. Itsinfluence on their life and conduct must still be the same. And, those, who attempt to disabuse them of such prejudices, may, for aught I know, be good reasoners, but I cannot allow them to be good citizens andpoliticians; since they free men from one restraint upon their passions, and make the infringement of the laws of society, in one respect, moreeasy and secure. After all, I may, perhaps, agree to your general conclusion in favour ofliberty, though upon different premises from those, on which youendeavour to found it. I think, that the state ought to tolerate everyprinciple of philosophy; nor is there an instance, that any governmenthas suffered in its political interests by such indulgence. There is noenthusiasm among philosophers; their doctrines are not very alluring tothe people; and no restraint can be put upon their reasonings, but whatmust be of dangerous consequence to the sciences, and even to the state, by paving the way for persecution and oppression in points, where thegenerality of mankind are more deeply interested and concerned. 115. But there occurs to me (continued I) with regard to your maintopic, a difficulty, which I shall just propose to you without insistingon it; lest it lead into reasonings of too nice and delicate a nature. In a word, I much doubt whether it be possible for a cause to be knownonly by its effect (as you have all along supposed) or to be of sosingular and particular a nature as to have no parallel and nosimilarity with any other cause or object, that has ever fallen underour observation. It is only when two _species_ of objects are found tobe constantly conjoined, that we can infer the one from the other; andwere an effect presented, which was entirely singular, and could not becomprehended under any known _species_, I do not see, that we could formany conjecture or inference at all concerning its cause. If experienceand observation and analogy be, indeed, the only guides which we canreasonably follow in inferences of this nature; both the effect andcause must bear a similarity and resemblance to other effects andcauses, which we know, and which we have found, in many instances, to beconjoined with each other. I leave it to your own reflection to pursuethe consequences of this principle. I shall just observe, that, as theantagonists of Epicurus always suppose the universe, an effect quitesingular and unparalleled, to be the proof of a Deity, a cause no lesssingular and unparalleled; your reasonings, upon that supposition, seem, at least, to merit our attention. There is, I own, some difficulty, howwe can ever return from the cause to the effect, and, reasoning from ourideas of the former, infer any alteration on the latter, or anyaddition to it. SECTION XII. OF THE ACADEMICAL OR SCEPTICAL PHILOSOPHY. PART I. 116. There is not a greater number of philosophical reasonings, displayed upon any subject, than those, which prove the existence of aDeity, and refute the fallacies of _Atheists_; and yet the mostreligious philosophers still dispute whether any man can be so blindedas to be a speculative atheist. How shall we reconcile thesecontradictions? The knights-errant, who wandered about to clear theworld of dragons and giants, never entertained the least doubt withregard to the existence of these monsters. The _Sceptic_ is another enemy of religion, who naturally provokes theindignation of all divines and graver philosophers; though it iscertain, that no man ever met with any such absurd creature, orconversed with a man, who had no opinion or principle concerning anysubject, either of action or speculation. This begets a very naturalquestion; What is meant by a sceptic? And how far it is possible to pushthese philosophical principles of doubt and uncertainty? There is a species of scepticism, _antecedent_ to all study andphilosophy, which is much inculcated by Des Cartes and others, as asovereign preservative against error and precipitate judgement. Itrecommends an universal doubt, not only of all our former opinions andprinciples, but also of our very faculties; of whose veracity, say they, we must assure ourselves, by a chain of reasoning, deduced from someoriginal principle, which cannot possibly be fallacious or deceitful. But neither is there any such original principle, which has aprerogative above others, that are self-evident and convincing: or ifthere were, could we advance a step beyond it, but by the use of thosevery faculties, of which we are supposed to be already diffident. TheCartesian doubt, therefore, were it ever possible to be attained by anyhuman creature (as it plainly is not) would be entirely incurable; andno reasoning could ever bring us to a state of assurance and convictionupon any subject. It must, however, be confessed, that this species of scepticism, whenmore moderate, may be understood in a very reasonable sense, and is anecessary preparative to the study of philosophy, by preserving a properimpartiality in our judgements, and weaning our mind from all thoseprejudices, which we may have imbibed from education or rash opinion. Tobegin with clear and self-evident principles, to advance by timorous andsure steps, to review frequently our conclusions, and examine accuratelyall their consequences; though by these means we shall make both a slowand a short progress in our systems; are the only methods, by which wecan ever hope to reach truth, and attain a proper stability andcertainty in our determinations. 117. There is another species of scepticism, _consequent_ to science andenquiry, when men are supposed to have discovered, either the absolutefallaciousness of their mental faculties, or their unfitness to reachany fixed determination in all those curious subjects of speculation, about which they are commonly employed. Even our very senses are broughtinto dispute, by a certain species of philosophers; and the maxims ofcommon life are subjected to the same doubt as the most profoundprinciples or conclusions of metaphysics and theology. As theseparadoxical tenets (if they may be called tenets) are to be met with insome philosophers, and the refutation of them in several, they naturallyexcite our curiosity, and make us enquire into the arguments, on whichthey may be founded. I need not insist upon the more trite topics, employed by the scepticsin all ages, against the evidence of _sense_; such as those which arederived from the imperfection and fallaciousness of our organs, onnumberless occasions; the crooked appearance of an oar in water; thevarious aspects of objects, according to their different distances; thedouble images which arise from the pressing one eye; with many otherappearances of a like nature. These sceptical topics, indeed, are onlysufficient to prove, that the senses alone are not implicitly to bedepended on; but that we must correct their evidence by reason, and byconsiderations, derived from the nature of the medium, the distance ofthe object, and the disposition of the organ, in order to render them, within their sphere, the proper _criteria_ of truth and falsehood. Thereare other more profound arguments against the senses, which admit not ofso easy a solution. 118. It seems evident, that men are carried, by a natural instinct orprepossession, to repose faith in their senses; and that, without anyreasoning, or even almost before the use of reason, we always suppose anexternal universe, which depends not on our perception, but would exist, though we and every sensible creature were absent or annihilated. Eventhe animal creation are governed by a like opinion, and preserve thisbelief of external objects, in all their thoughts, designs, and actions. It seems also evident, that, when men follow this blind and powerfulinstinct of nature, they always suppose the very images, presented bythe senses, to be the external objects, and never entertain anysuspicion, that the one are nothing but representations of the other. This very table, which we see white, and which we feel hard, is believedto exist, independent of our perception, and to be something externalto our mind, which perceives it. Our presence bestows not being on it:our absence does not annihilate it. It preserves its existence uniformand entire, independent of the situation of intelligent beings, whoperceive or contemplate it. But this universal and primary opinion of all men is soon destroyed bythe slightest philosophy, which teaches us, that nothing can ever bepresent to the mind but an image or perception, and that the senses areonly the inlets, through which these images are conveyed, without beingable to produce any immediate intercourse between the mind and theobject. The table, which we see, seems to diminish, as we remove fartherfrom it: but the real table, which exists independent of us, suffers noalteration: it was, therefore, nothing but its image, which was presentto the mind. These are the obvious dictates of reason; and no man, whoreflects, ever doubted, that the existences, which we consider, when wesay, _this house_ and _that tree_, are nothing but perceptions in themind, and fleeting copies or representations of other existences, whichremain uniform and independent. 119. So far, then, are we necessitated by reasoning to contradict ordepart from the primary instincts of nature, and to embrace a new systemwith regard to the evidence of our senses. But here philosophy findsherself extremely embarrassed, when she would justify this new system, and obviate the cavils and objections of the sceptics. She can no longerplead the infallible and irresistible instinct of nature: for that ledus to a quite different system, which is acknowledged fallible and evenerroneous. And to justify this pretended philosophical system, by achain of clear and convincing argument, or even any appearance ofargument, exceeds the power of all human capacity. By what argument can it be proved, that the perceptions of the mindmust be caused by external objects, entirely different from them, thoughresembling them (if that be possible) and could not arise either fromthe energy of the mind itself, or from the suggestion of some invisibleand unknown spirit, or from some other cause still more unknown to us?It is acknowledged, that, in fact, many of these perceptions arise notfrom anything external, as in dreams, madness, and other diseases. Andnothing can be more inexplicable than the manner, in which body shouldso operate upon mind as ever to convey an image of itself to asubstance, supposed of so different, and even contrary a nature. It is a question of fact, whether the perceptions of the senses beproduced by external objects, resembling them: how shall this questionbe determined? By experience surely; as all other questions of a likenature. But here experience is, and must be entirely silent. The mindhas never anything present to it but the perceptions, and cannotpossibly reach any experience of their connexion with objects. Thesupposition of such a connexion is, therefore, without any foundation inreasoning. 120. To have recourse to the veracity of the supreme Being, in order toprove the veracity of our senses, is surely making a very unexpectedcircuit. If his veracity were at all concerned in this matter, oursenses would be entirely infallible; because it is not possible that hecan ever deceive. Not to mention, that, if the external world be oncecalled in question, we shall be at a loss to find arguments, by which wemay prove the existence of that Being or any of his attributes. 121. This is a topic, therefore, in which the profounder and morephilosophical sceptics will always triumph, when they endeavour tointroduce an universal doubt into all subjects of human knowledge andenquiry. Do you follow the instincts and propensities of nature, maythey say, in assenting to the veracity of sense? But these lead you tobelieve that the very perception or sensible image is the externalobject. Do you disclaim this principle, in order to embrace a morerational opinion, that the perceptions are only representations ofsomething external? You here depart from your natural propensities andmore obvious sentiments; and yet are not able to satisfy your reason, which can never find any convincing argument from experience to prove, that the perceptions are connected with any external objects. 122. There is another sceptical topic of a like nature, derived from themost profound philosophy; which might merit our attention, were itrequisite to dive so deep, in order to discover arguments andreasonings, which can so little serve to any serious purpose. It isuniversally allowed by modern enquirers, that all the sensible qualitiesof objects, such as hard, soft, hot, cold, white, black, &c. Are merelysecondary, and exist not in the objects themselves, but are perceptionsof the mind, without any external archetype or model, which theyrepresent. If this be allowed, with regard to secondary qualities, itmust also follow, with regard to the supposed primary qualities ofextension and solidity; nor can the latter be any more entitled to thatdenomination than the former. The idea of extension is entirely acquiredfrom the senses of sight and feeling; and if all the qualities, perceived by the senses, be in the mind, not in the object, the sameconclusion must reach the idea of extension, which is wholly dependenton the sensible ideas or the ideas of secondary qualities. Nothing cansave us from this conclusion, but the asserting, that the ideas of thoseprimary qualities are attained by _Abstraction_, an opinion, which, ifwe examine it accurately, we shall find to be unintelligible, and evenabsurd. An extension, that is neither tangible nor visible, cannotpossibly be conceived: and a tangible or visible extension, which isneither hard nor soft, black nor white, is equally beyond the reach ofhuman conception. Let any man try to conceive a triangle in general, which is neither _Isosceles_ nor _Scalenum_, nor has any particularlength or proportion of sides; and he will soon perceive the absurdityof all the scholastic notions with regard to abstraction andgeneral ideas. [31] [31] This argument is drawn from Dr. Berkeley; and indeed most of the writings of that very ingenious author form the best lessons of scepticism, which are to be found either among the ancient or modern philosopher, Bayle not excepted. He professes, however, in his title-page (and undoubtedly with great truth) to have composed his book against the sceptics as well as against the atheists and free-thinkers. But that all his arguments, though otherwise intended, are, in reality, merely sceptical, appears from this, _that they admit of no answer and produce no conviction_. Their only effect is to cause that momentary amazement and irresolution and confusion, which is the result of scepticism. 123. Thus the first philosophical objection to the evidence of sense orto the opinion of external existence consists in this, that such anopinion, if rested on natural instinct, is contrary to reason, and ifreferred to reason, is contrary to natural instinct, and at the sametime carries no rational evidence with it, to convince an impartialenquirer. The second objection goes farther, and represents this opinionas contrary to reason: at least, if it be a principle of reason, thatall sensible qualities are in the mind, not in the object. Bereavematter of all its intelligible qualities, both primary and secondary, you in a manner annihilate it, and leave only a certain unknown, inexplicable _something_, as the cause of our perceptions; a notion soimperfect, that no sceptic will think it worth while to contendagainst it. PART II. 124. It may seem a very extravagant attempt of the sceptics to destroy_reason_ by argument and ratiocination; yet is this the grand scope ofall their enquiries and disputes. They endeavour to find objections, both to our abstract reasonings, and to those which regard matter offact and existence. The chief objection against all _abstract_ reasonings is derived fromthe ideas of space and time; ideas, which, in common life and to acareless view, are very clear and intelligible, but when they passthrough the scrutiny of the profound sciences (and they are the chiefobject of these sciences) afford principles, which seem full ofabsurdity and contradiction. No priestly _dogmas_, invented on purposeto tame and subdue the rebellious reason of mankind, ever shocked commonsense more than the doctrine of the infinitive divisibility ofextension, with its consequences; as they are pompously displayed by allgeometricians and metaphysicians, with a kind of triumph and exultation. A real quantity, infinitely less than any finite quantity, containingquantities infinitely less than itself, and so on _in infinitum_; thisis an edifice so bold and prodigious, that it is too weighty for anypretended demonstration to support, because it shocks the clearest andmost natural principles of human reason. [32] But what renders the mattermore extraordinary, is, that these seemingly absurd opinions aresupported by a chain of reasoning, the clearest and most natural; nor isit possible for us to allow the premises without admitting theconsequences. Nothing can be more convincing and satisfactory than allthe conclusions concerning the properties of circles and triangles; andyet, when these are once received, how can we deny, that the angle ofcontact between a circle and its tangent is infinitely less than anyrectilineal angle, that as you may increase the diameter of the circle_in infinitum_, this angle of contact becomes still less, even _ininfinitum_, and that the angle of contact between other curves and theirtangents may be infinitely less than those between any circle and itstangent, and so on, _in infinitum_? The demonstration of theseprinciples seems as unexceptionable as that which proves the threeangles of a triangle to be equal to two right ones, though the latteropinion be natural and easy, and the former big with contradiction andabsurdity. Reason here seems to be thrown into a kind of amazement andsuspence, which, without the suggestions of any sceptic, gives her adiffidence of herself, and of the ground on which she treads. She sees afull light, which illuminates certain places; but that light bordersupon the most profound darkness. And between these she is so dazzled andconfounded, that she scarcely can pronounce with certainty and assuranceconcerning any one object. [32] Whatever disputes there may be about mathematical points, we must allow that there are physical points; that is, parts of extension, which cannot be divided or lessened, either by the eye or imagination. These images, then, which are present to the fancy or senses, are absolutely indivisible, and consequently must be allowed by mathematicians to be infinitely less than any real part of extension; and yet nothing appears more certain to reason, than that an infinite number of them composes an infinite extension. How much more an infinite number of those infinitely small parts of extension, which are still supposed infinitely divisible. 125. The absurdity of these bold determinations of the abstract sciencesseems to become, if possible, still more palpable with regard to timethan extension. An infinite number of real parts of time, passing insuccession, and exhausted one after another, appears so evident acontradiction, that no man, one should think, whose judgement is notcorrupted, instead of being improved, by the sciences, would ever beable to admit of it. Yet still reason must remain restless, and unquiet, even with regard tothat scepticism, to which she is driven by these seeming absurdities andcontradictions. How any clear, distinct idea can contain circumstances, contradictory to itself, or to any other clear, distinct idea, isabsolutely incomprehensible; and is, perhaps, as absurd as anyproposition, which can be formed. So that nothing can be moresceptical, or more full of doubt and hesitation, than this scepticismitself, which arises from some of the paradoxical conclusions ofgeometry or the science of quantity. [33] [33] It seems to me not impossible to avoid these absurdities and contradictions, if it be admitted, that there is no such thing as abstract or general ideas, properly speaking; but that all general ideas are, in reality, particular ones, attached to a general term, which recalls, upon occasion, other particular ones, that resemble, in certain circumstances, the idea, present to the mind. Thus when the term Horse is pronounced, we immediately figure to ourselves the idea of a black or a white animal, of a particular size or figure: But as that term is also usually applied to animals of other colours, figures and sizes, these ideas, though not actually present to the imagination, are easily recalled; and our reasoning and conclusion proceed in the same way, as if they were actually present. If this be admitted (as seems reasonable) it follows that all the ideas of quantity, upon which mathematicians reason, are nothing but particular, and such as are suggested by the senses and imagination, and consequently, cannot be infinitely divisible. It is sufficient to have dropped this hint at present, without prosecuting it any farther. It certainly concerns all lovers of science not to expose themselves to the ridicule and contempt of the ignorant by their conclusions; and this seems the readiest solution of these difficulties. 126. The sceptical objections to _moral_ evidence, or to the reasoningsconcerning matter of fact, are either _popular_ or _philosophical_. Thepopular objections are derived from the natural weakness of humanunderstanding; the contradictory opinions, which have been entertainedin different ages and nations; the variations of our judgement insickness and health, youth and old age, prosperity and adversity; theperpetual contradiction of each particular man's opinions andsentiments; with many other topics of that kind. It is needless toinsist farther on this head. These objections are but weak. For as, incommon life, we reason every moment concerning fact and existence, andcannot possibly subsist, without continually employing this species ofargument, any popular objections, derived from thence, must beinsufficient to destroy that evidence. The great subverter of_Pyrrhonism_ or the excessive principles of scepticism is action, andemployment, and the occupations of common life. These principles mayflourish and triumph in the schools; where it is, indeed, difficult, ifnot impossible, to refute them. But as soon as they leave the shade, andby the presence of the real objects, which actuate our passions andsentiments, are put in opposition to the more powerful principles of ournature, they vanish like smoke, and leave the most determined sceptic inthe same condition as other mortals. 127. The sceptic, therefore, had better keep within his proper sphere, and display those _philosophical_ objections, which arise from moreprofound researches. Here he seems to have ample matter of triumph;while he justly insists, that all our evidence for any matter of fact, which lies beyond the testimony of sense or memory, is derived entirelyfrom the relation of cause and effect; that we have no other idea ofthis relation than that of two objects, which have been frequently_conjoined_ together; that we have no argument to convince us, thatobjects, which have, in our experience, been frequently conjoined, willlikewise, in other instances, be conjoined in the same manner; and thatnothing leads us to this inference but custom or a certain instinct ofour nature; which it is indeed difficult to resist, but which, likeother instincts, may be fallacious and deceitful. While the scepticinsists upon these topics, he shows his force, or rather, indeed, hisown and our weakness; and seems, for the time at least, to destroy allassurance and conviction. These arguments might be displayed at greaterlength, if any durable good or benefit to society could ever be expectedto result from them. 128. For here is the chief and most confounding objection to _excessive_scepticism, that no durable good can ever result from it; while itremains in its full force and vigour. We need only ask such a sceptic, _What his meaning is? And what he proposes by all these curiousresearches?_ He is immediately at a loss, and knows not what to answer. A Copernican or Ptolemaic, who supports each his different system ofastronomy, may hope to produce a conviction, which will remain constantand durable, with his audience. A Stoic or Epicurean displaysprinciples, which may not be durable, but which have an effect onconduct and behaviour. But a Pyrrhonian cannot expect, that hisphilosophy will have any constant influence on the mind: or if it had, that its influence would be beneficial to society. On the contrary, hemust acknowledge, if he will acknowledge anything, that all human lifemust perish, were his principles universally and steadily to prevail. All discourse, all action would immediately cease; and men remain in atotal lethargy, till the necessities of nature, unsatisfied, put an endto their miserable existence. It is true; so fatal an event is verylittle to be dreaded. Nature is always too strong for principle. Andthough a Pyrrhonian may throw himself or others into a momentaryamazement and confusion by his profound reasonings; the first and mosttrivial event in life will put to flight all his doubts and scruples, andleave him the same, in every point of action and speculation, with thephilosophers of every other sect, or with those who never concernedthemselves in any philosophical researches. When he awakes from hisdream, he will be the first to join in the laugh against himself, and toconfess, that all his objections are mere amusement, and can have noother tendency than to show the whimsical condition of mankind, who mustact and reason and believe; though they are not able, by their mostdiligent enquiry, to satisfy themselves concerning the foundation ofthese operations, or to remove the objections, which may be raisedagainst them. PART III. 129. There is, indeed, a more _mitigated_ scepticism or _academical_philosophy, which may be both durable and useful, and which may, inpart, be the result of this Pyrrhonism, or _excessive_ scepticism, whenits undistinguished doubts are, in some measure, corrected by commonsense and reflection. The greater part of mankind are naturally apt tobe affirmative and dogmatical in their opinions; and while they seeobjects only on one side, and have no idea of any counterpoisingargument, they throw themselves precipitately into the principles, towhich they are inclined; nor have they any indulgence for those whoentertain opposite sentiments. To hesitate or balance perplexes theirunderstanding, checks their passion, and suspends their action. Theyare, therefore, impatient till they escape from a state, which to themis so uneasy: and they think, that they could never remove themselvesfar enough from it, by the violence of their affirmations and obstinacyof their belief. But could such dogmatical reasoners become sensible ofthe strange infirmities of human understanding, even in its most perfectstate, and when most accurate and cautious in its determinations; such areflection would naturally inspire them with more modesty and reserve, and diminish their fond opinion of themselves, and their prejudiceagainst antagonists. The illiterate may reflect on the disposition ofthe learned, who, amidst all the advantages of study and reflection, arecommonly still diffident in their determinations: and if any of thelearned be inclined, from their natural temper, to haughtiness andobstinacy, a small tincture of Pyrrhonism might abate their pride, byshowing them, that the few advantages, which they may have attained overtheir fellows, are but inconsiderable, if compared with the universalperplexity and confusion, which is inherent in human nature. Ingeneral, there is a degree of doubt, and caution, and modesty, which, in all kinds of scrutiny and decision, ought for ever to accompany ajust reasoner. 130. Another species of _mitigated_ scepticism which may be of advantageto mankind, and which may be the natural result of the Pyrrhonian doubtsand scruples, is the limitation of our enquiries to such subjects as arebest adapted to the narrow capacity of human understanding. The_imagination_ of man is naturally sublime, delighted with whatever isremote and extraordinary, and running, without control, into the mostdistant parts of space and time in order to avoid the objects, whichcustom has rendered too familiar to it. A correct _Judgement_ observes acontrary method, and avoiding all distant and high enquiries, confinesitself to common life, and to such subjects as fall under daily practiceand experience; leaving the more sublime topics to the embellishment ofpoets and orators, or to the arts of priests and politicians. To bringus to so salutary a determination, nothing can be more serviceable, thanto be once thoroughly convinced of the force of the Pyrrhonian doubt, and of the impossibility, that anything, but the strong power of naturalinstinct, could free us from it. Those who have a propensity tophilosophy, will still continue their researches; because they reflect, that, besides the immediate pleasure, attending such an occupation, philosophical decisions are nothing but the reflections of common life, methodized and corrected. But they will never be tempted to go beyondcommon life, so long as they consider the imperfection of thosefaculties which they employ, their narrow reach, and their inaccurateoperations. While we cannot give a satisfactory reason, why we believe, after a thousand experiments, that a stone will fall, or fire burn; canwe ever satisfy ourselves concerning any determination, which we mayform, with regard to the origin of worlds, and the situation of nature, from, and to eternity? This narrow limitation, indeed, of our enquiries, is, in every respect, so reasonable, that it suffices to make the slightest examination intothe natural powers of the human mind and to compare them with theirobjects, in order to recommend it to us. We shall then find what are theproper subjects of science and enquiry. 131. It seems to me, that the only objects of the abstract science or ofdemonstration are quantity and number, and that all attempts to extendthis more perfect species of knowledge beyond these bounds are meresophistry and illusion. As the component parts of quantity and numberare entirely similar, their relations become intricate and involved; andnothing can be more curious, as well as useful, than to trace, by avariety of mediums, their equality or inequality, through theirdifferent appearances. But as all other ideas are clearly distinct anddifferent from each other, we can never advance farther, by our utmostscrutiny, than to observe this diversity, and, by an obvious reflection, pronounce one thing not to be another. Or if there be any difficulty inthese decisions, it proceeds entirely from the undeterminate meaning ofwords, which is corrected by juster definitions. That _the square of thehypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other two sides_, cannot beknown, let the terms be ever so exactly defined, without a train ofreasoning and enquiry. But to convince us of this proposition, _thatwhere there is no property, there can be no injustice_, it is onlynecessary to define the terms, and explain injustice to be a violationof property. This proposition is, indeed, nothing but a more imperfectdefinition. It is the same case with all those pretended syllogisticalreasonings, which may be found in every other branch of learning, exceptthe sciences of quantity and number; and these may safely, I think, bepronounced the only proper objects of knowledge and demonstration. 132. All other enquiries of men regard only matter of fact andexistence; and these are evidently incapable of demonstration. Whatever_is_ may _not be_. No negation of a fact can involve a contradiction. The non-existence of any being, without exception, is as clear anddistinct an idea as its existence. The proposition, which affirms it notto be, however false, is no less conceivable and intelligible, than thatwhich affirms it to be. The case is different with the sciences, properly so called. Every proposition, which is not true, is thereconfused and unintelligible. That the cube root of 64 is equal to thehalf of 10, is a false proposition, and can never be distinctlyconceived. But that Caesar, or the angel Gabriel, or any being neverexisted, may be a false proposition, but still is perfectly conceivable, and implies no contradiction. The existence, therefore, of any being can only be proved by argumentsfrom its cause or its effect; and these arguments are founded entirelyon experience. If we reason _a priori_, anything may appear able toproduce anything. The falling of a pebble may, for aught we know, extinguish the sun; or the wish of a man control the planets in theirorbits. It is only experience, which teaches us the nature and bounds ofcause and effect, and enables us to infer the existence of one objectfrom that of another[34]. Such is the foundation of moral reasoning, which forms the greater part of human knowledge, and is the source ofall human action and behaviour. [34] That impious maxim of the ancient philosophy, _Ex nihilo, nihil fit_, by which the creation of matter was excluded, ceases to be a maxim, according to this philosophy. Not only the will of the supreme Being may create matter; but, for aught we know _a priori_, the will of any other being might create it, or any other cause, that the most whimsical imagination can assign. Moral reasonings are either concerning particular or general facts. Alldeliberations in life regard the former; as also all disquisitions inhistory, chronology, geography, and astronomy. The sciences, which treat of general facts, are politics, naturalphilosophy, physic, chemistry, &c. Where the qualities, causes andeffects of a whole species of objects are enquired into. Divinity or Theology, as it proves the existence of a Deity, and theimmortality of souls, is composed partly of reasonings concerningparticular, partly concerning general facts. It has a foundation in_reason_, so far as it is supported by experience. But its best and mostsolid foundation is _faith_ and divine revelation. Morals and criticism are not so properly objects of the understanding asof taste and sentiment. Beauty, whether moral or natural, is felt, moreproperly than perceived. Or if we reason concerning it, and endeavour tofix its standard, we regard a new fact, to wit, the general tastes ofmankind, or some such fact, which may be the object of reasoningand enquiry. When we run over libraries, persuaded of these principles, what havocmust we make? If we take in our hand any volume; of divinity or schoolmetaphysics, for instance; let us ask, _Does it contain any abstractreasoning concerning quantity or number?_ No. _Does it contain anyexperimental reasoning concerning matter of fact and existence?_ No. Commit it then to the flames: for it can contain nothing but sophistryand illusion. INDEX Abstraction not source of ideas of primary qualities, 122. Academic philosophy, 34. Action and philosophy, 1, 4, 34, 128; Addition 4. Analogy a species of, the foundation of all reasoning about matter of fact, 82; Animals the reason of, 83-85; learn from experience and draw inferences, 83; which can only be founded on custom, 84; cause of difference between men and animals, 84 n. Antiquity 62. Appearances to senses must be corrected by reason, 117. A priori 25, 36 n, 89 n, 132, 132 n. Aristotle 4. Association of ideas, three principles of, 18-19, 41-44 (v. _Cause_ C). Atheism 116. Bacon 99. Belief (v. _Cause_ C, 39-45); and chance, 46. Berkeley really a sceptic, 122 n. Bigotry 102. Body and soul, mystery of union of, 52; volition and movements of, 52. Real existence of (v. _Scepticism_, B, 118-123). Cause first (v. _God_, _Necessity_, 78-81; _Providence_, 102-115, 132 n). A principle of association of ideas, 19, 43; sole foundation of reasonings about matter of fact or real existence, 22. A. _Knowledge of Causes arises from experience not from Reason_, 23-33. Reasonings _a priori_ give no knowledge of cause and effect, 23 f. ; impossible to see the effect in the cause since they are totally different, 25; natural philosophy never pretends to assign ultimate causes, but only to reduce causes to a few general causes, e. G. Gravity, 26; geometry applies laws obtained by experience, 27. Conclusions from experience not based on any process of the understanding, 28; yet we infer in the future a similar connexion between known qualities of things and their secret powers, to that which we assumed in the past. On what is this inference based? 29; demonstrative reasoning has no place here, and all experimental reasoning assumes the resemblance of the future to the past, and so cannot prove it without being circular, 30, 32; if reasoning were the basis of this belief, there would be no need for the multiplication of instances or of long experience, 31; yet conclusions about matter of fact are affected by experience even in beasts and children, so that they cannot be founded on abstruse reasoning, 33; to explain our inferences from experience a principle is required of equal weight and authority with reason, 34. B. _Custom enables us to infer existence of one object from the appearance of another_, 35-38. Experience enables us to ascribe a more than arbitrary connexion to objects, 35; we are determined to this by custom or habit which is the great guide of human life, 36; but our inference must be based on some fact present to the senses or memory, 37; the customary conjunction between such an object and some other object produces an operation of the soul which is as unavoidable as love, 38; animals also infer one event from another by custom, 82-84; and in man as in animals experimental reasoning depends on a species of instinct or mechanical power that acts in us unknown to ourselves, 85. C. _Belief_, 39-45. Belief differs from fiction or the loose reveries of the fancy by some feeling annexed to it, 39; belief cannot be defined, but may be described as a more lively, forcible, firm, steady conception of an object than can be attained by the imagination alone, 40; it is produced by the principles of association, viz. Resemblance, 41; contiguity, 42; causation, 43; by a kind of pre-established harmony between the course of nature and our ideas, 44; this operation of our minds necessary to our subsistence and so entrusted by nature to instinct rather than to reasoning, 45. _Probability_, 46-7. Belief produced by a majority of chances by an inexplicable contrivance of Nature, 46 (cf. 87-8); probability of causes: the failure of a cause ascribed to a secret counteracting cause, 47 (cf. 67); it is universally allowed that chance when strictly examined is a mere negative word, 74. D. _Power_, 49-57. Power, force, energy, necessary connexion must either be defined by analysis or explained by production of the impression from which they are copied, 49; from the first appearance of an object we cannot foretell its effect: we cannot see the power of a single body: we only see sequence, 50. Is the idea of power derived from an internal impression and is it an idea of reflection? 51; it is not derived, as Locke said, from reasoning about power of production in nature, 50 n; nor from consciousness of influence of will over bodily organs, 52; nor from effort to overcome resistance, 52 n (cf. 60 n); nor from influence of will over mind, 53; many philosophers appeal to an invisible intelligent principle, to a volition of the supreme being, and regard causes as only occasions and our mental conceptions as revelations, 54-5; thus diminishing the grandeur of God, 56; this theory too bold and beyond verification by our faculties, and is no explanation, 57; vis inertiae, 57 n. In single instances we only see sequence of loose events which are conjoined and never connected, 58; the idea of necessary connexion only arises from a number of similar instances, and the only difference between such a number and a single instance is that the former produces a habit of expecting the usual attendant, 59, 61. This customary transition is the impression from which we form the idea of necessary connexion. E. _Reasoning from effect to cause and conversely_, 105-115 (v. _Providence_). In arguing from effect to cause we must not infer more qualities in the cause than are required to produce the effect, nor reason backwards from an inferred cause to new effects, 105-8; we can reason back from cause to new effects in the case of human acts by analogy which rests on previous knowledge, 111-2; when the effect is entirely singular and does not belong to any species we cannot infer its cause at all, 115. F. _Definitions of Cause_, 60 (cf. 74 n). Ceremonies 41. Chance ignorance of causes, 46; has no existence, 74 (v. _Cause_ B). Cicero 4. Circle in reasoning, 30. Clarke 37 n. Colour peculiarity of ideas of, 16. Contiguity 19, 42. Contradiction the test of demonstration, 132. Contrariety 19 n. Contrary of matter of fact always possible, 21, 132. Creation 132 n. Criticism 132. Cudworth 57 n, 158 n. Custom when strongest conceals itself, 24; an ultimate principle of all conclusions from experience, 36, 127; and belief, 39-45; gives rise to inferences of animals, 84. Definition only applicable to complex ideas, 49; need of, 131; of cause, 60. Demonstrative opp. Intuitive, 20; reasoning, 30; confined to quantity and number, 131; impossible to demonstrate a fact since no negation of a fact can involve a contradiction, 132. Descartes 57 n. ; his universal doubt antecedent to study if strictly taken is incurable, since even from an indubitable first principle no advance can be made except by the faculties which we doubt, 116; his appeal to the veracity of God is useless, 120 (v. _Scepticism_, 116-132). Design argument from, 105 f. (v. _Providence_). Divisibility of mathematical and physical points, 124. Doubt Cartesian, 116, 120 (v. _Scepticism_ A). Epictetus 34. Epicurean philosophy, defence of, 102-15; denial of providence and future state is harmless, 104 (v. _Providence_). Euclid truths in, do not depend on existence of circles or triangles, 20. Evidence moral and natural, 70; value of human, 82-9 (v. _Miracles_). Evil doctrine of necessity either makes God the cause of evil or denies existence of evil as regards the whole, 78-81. Existence external and perception, 118-9 (v. _Scepticism_, B, 116-32). Ex nihilo nihil 132 n. Experience (v. _Cause_ A, 23-33); opposition of reason and experience usual, but really erroneous and superficial, 36 n. Infallible, may be regarded as proof, 87 (v. _Miracles_); all the philosophy and religion in the world cannot carry us beyond the usual course of experience, 113. Extension 50; a supposed primary quality, 122. Faith 101, 132. Fiction and fact (v. _Cause_ C), 39 f. Future inference to, from past, 29 (v. _Cause_ A). General ideas, do not really exist, but only particular ideas attached to a general term, 125 n. Geography mental, 8. Geometry propositions of certain, as depending only on relations of ideas not on existence of objects, 20; gives no knowledge of ultimate causes: only applies laws discovered by experience, 27. God idea of, 14; no idea of except what we learn from reflection on our own faculties, 57; theory that God is cause of all motion and thought, causes being only occasions of his volition, 54-57; by doctrine of necessity either there are no bad actions or God is the cause of evil, 78-81. Veracity of, appealed to, 120. And creation of matter, 132 n. v. _Providence_, 102-115; _Scepticism_, 116-132. Golden age, 107. Gravity 26. Habit (v. _Custom_, _Cause_ B). History use of, 65. Human nature, inconstancy a constant character of, 68. Ideas A. _Origin of_, 11-17. Perceptions divided into impressions and ideas, 11-12; the mind can only compound the materials derived from outward or inward sentiment, 13 (cf. 53); all ideas resolvable into simple ideas copied from precedent feelings, 14; deficiency in an organ of sensation produces deficiency in corresponding idea, 15-16; suspected ideas to be tested by asking for the impression from which it is derived, 17 (cf. 49); idea of reflection, 51; general ideas, 135 n; innate ideas, 19 n; power of will over ideas, 53. B. _Association of_, 18-19. Ideas introduce each other with a certain degree of method and regularity, 18; only three principles of association, viz. Resemblance, Contiguity, and Cause or Effect, 19; contrariety, 19 n; production of belief by these principles, 41-43. C. Correspondence of ideas and course of nature, 44; relations of ideas one of two possible objects of enquiry, 20; such relations discoverable by the mere operation of thought, 20, 131; no demonstration possible except in case of ideas of quantity or number, 131. Imagination 11, 39; and belief, 40. Impressions all our more lively perceptions, 12; the test of ideas, 17, 49. Incest peculiar turpitude of explained, 12. Inconceivability of the negative, 132 (cf. 20). Inertia 57 n. Inference and similarity, 30, 115 (v. _Cause_). Infinite divisibility, 124 f. Instances multiplication of not required by reason, 31. Instinct more trustworthy than reasoning, 45; the basis of all experimental reasoning, 85; the basis of realism, 118, 121. Intuitive opp. Mediate reasoning, 2. La Bruyere 4. Liberty (v. _Necessity_, 62-97). Definition of hypothetical liberty, 73. Necessary to morality, 77. Locke 4, 40 n, 50 n, 57 n. His loose use of 'ideas, ' 19 n; betrayed into frivolous disputes about innate ideas by the School-men, 19 n; distinction of primary and secondary qualities, 122. Malebranche 4, 57 n.. Man a reasonable and active being, 4. Marriage rules of, based on and vary with utility, 118. Mathematics ideas of, clear and determinate, hence their superiority to moral and metaphysical sciences, 48; their difficulty, 48. Mathematical and physical points, 124 n. Matter necessity of, 64; creation of, 132 n (v. _Scepticism_ A). Matter-of-fact contrary of, always possible, 21; arguments to new, based only on cause and effect, 22. Metaphysics not a science, 5-6; how inferior and superior to mathematics, 48. Mind mental geography, 8; secret springs and principles of, 9; can only mix and compound materials given by inward and outward sentiment, 13; power of will over, 53. Miracles. 86-101. Belief in human evidence diminishes according as the event witnessed is unusual or extraordinary, 89; difference between extraordinary and miraculous, 89 n; if the evidence for a miracle amounted to proof we should have one proof opposed by another proof, for the proof against a miracle is as complete as possible; an event is not miraculous unless there is a uniform experience, that is a proof, against it, 90; definition of miracle, 90 n; hence no testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle unless its falsehood would be more miraculous than the event it establishes, 91; as a fact the evidence for a miracle has never amounted to proof, 92; the passion for the wonderful in human nature, 93; prevalence of miracles in savage and early periods and their diminution with civilization, 94; the evidence for miracles in matters of religion opposed by the almost infinite number of witnesses for rival religions, 95; value of human testimony diminished by temptation to pose as a prophet or apostle, 97; no testimony for a miracle has ever amounted to a probability, much less to a proof, and if it did amount to a proof it would be opposed by another perfect proof, 98; so a miracle can never be proved so as to be the foundation of a system of religion, 99; a conclusion which confounds those who base the Christian religion on reason, not on faith, 100; the Christian religion cannot be believed without a miracle which will subvert the principle of a man's understanding and give him a determination to believe what is most contrary to custom and experience, 101. Moral evil (q. V. ) 80. Moral science 30; inferior to mathematics, 48; sceptical objections to, 126-7. Moral evidence easily combined with natural, 70. Motion 50. Nature design in, 105 f. (v. _Providence_), and the course of our ideas, 44. State of, a philosophical fiction, 151, 151 n. Necessary connexion (v. _Cause_). Necessity two definitions of, 75. A. _and Liberty_, 62-81; the controversy is based on ambiguity, and all mankind have always been of the same opinion on this subject, 63; our idea of the necessity of matter arises solely from observed uniformity and consequent inference, circumstances which are allowed by all men to exist in respect of human action, 64; history and knowledge of human nature assume such uniformity, 65, which does not exclude variety due to education and progress, 66; irregular actions to be explained by secret operation of contrary causes, 67; the inconstancy of human action, its constant character, as of winds and weather, 68; we all acknowledge and draw inferences from the regular conjunction of motives and actions, 69; history, politics, and morals show this, and the possibility of combining moral and natural evidence shows that they have a common origin, 70; the reluctance to acknowledge the necessity of actions due to a lingering belief that we can see real connexion behind mere conjunction, 71; we should begin with the examination not of the soul and will but of brute matter, 72; the prevalence of the liberty doctrine due to a false sensation of liberty and a false experiment, 72 n; though this question is the most contentious of all, mankind has always agreed in the doctrine of liberty, if we mean by it that hypothetical liberty which consists in a power of acting or not acting according to the determinations of our will, and which can be ascribed to every one who is not a prisoner, 73; liberty when opposed to necessity, and not merely to constraint, is the same as chance, 74. B. _Both necessity and liberty are necessary to morality_, this doctrine of necessity only alters our view of matter and so is at least innocent, 75; rewards and punishments imply the uniform influence of motives, and connexion of character and action: if necessity be denied, a man may commit any crime and be no worse for it, 76; liberty also essential to morality, 77. Objection that doctrine of necessity and of a regular chain of causes either makes God the cause of evil, or abolishes evil in actions, 78; Stoic answer, that the whole system is good, is specious but ineffectual in practice, 79; no speculative argument can counteract the impulse of our natural sentiments to blame certain actions, 80; how God can be the cause of all actions without being the author of moral evil is a mystery with which philosophy cannot deal, 81. Negative inconceivability of, 132. Newton 57 n. Nisus 52 n, 60 n. Number the object of demonstration, 131. Occasional causes theory of, 55. Parallelism between thought and course of nature, 44-5. Perception and external objects, 119 f. (v. _Scepticism_, _Impression_, _Idea_). Philosophy moral, two branches of, abstruse and practical, 1-5; gratifies innocent curiosity, 6; metaphysics tries to deal with matters inaccessible to human understanding, 6. True, must lay down limits of understanding, 7 (cf. 113); a large part of, consists in mental geography, 8; may hope to resolve principles of mind into still more general principles, 9. Natural, only staves off our ignorance a little longer, as moral or metaphysical philosophy serves only to discover larger portions of it, 26; academical, or sceptical, flatters no bias or passion except love of truth, and so has few partisans, 34; though it destroy speculation, cannot destroy action, for nature steps in and asserts her rights, 34; moral, inferior to mathematics in clearness of ideas, superior in shortness of arguments, 48. Controversies in, due to ambiguity of terms, 62. Disputes in, not be settled by appeal to dangerous consequences of a doctrine, 75. Speculative, entirely indifferent to the peace of society and security of government, 104 (cf. 114). All the philosophy in the world, and all the religion in the world, which is nothing but a species of philosophy, can never carry us beyond the usual course of experience, 113. Happiness of, to have originated in an age and country of freedom and toleration, 102. Points physical, indivisible, 124 n. Power 50 f, 60 n. (v. _Cause_ D). Probability 46 f. (v. _Cause_, B). Probable arguments, 38, 46 n. Production 50 n. Promises not the foundation of justice, 257. Proof 46 n, 86-101 (v. _Miracles_, _Demonstrative_). Providence 102-115 (v. _God_). The sole argument for a divine existence is from the marks of design in nature; must not infer greater power in the cause than is necessary to produce the observed effects, nor argue from such an inferred cause to any new effects which have not been observed, 105; so must not infer in God more power, wisdom, and benevolence than appears in nature, 106; so it is unnecessary to try and save the honour of the Gods by assuming the intractability of matter or the observance of general laws, 107; to argue from effects to unknown causes, and then from these causes to unknown effects, is a gross sophism, 108. From imperfect exercise of justice in this world we cannot infer its perfect exercise in a future world, 109; we must regulate our conduct solely by the experienced train of events, 110; in case of human works of art we can infer the perfect from the imperfect, but that is because we know man by experience and also know other instances of his art, 111-112; but in the case of God we only know him by his productions, and do not know any class of beings to which he belongs, 113; and the universe, his production, is entirely singular and does not belong to a known species of things, 115. Punishment requires doctrines of necessity and liberty, 76 (v. _Necessity_). Pyrrhonism 126. Qualities primary and secondary, 122. Quantity and number, the only objects of demonstration, the parts of them being entirely similar, 131. Real presence, 86. Reality and thought, 44. Realism of the vulgar, 118. Reason (a) opp. Intuition, 29; opp. Experience, 28, 36 n. (b) Corrects sympathy and senses, 117. No match for nature, 34. Fallacious, compared with instinct, 45. Of men and animals, 84 n. (c) attempts to destroy, by reasoning, 124; objections to abstract reasoning, 124 f. (v. _Scepticism_). (d) _Reasoning_. Two kinds of, demonstrative and moral, 30, 46 n, 132; moral, divided into general and particular, 132; produces demonstrations, proofs, and probabilities, 46 n. Probable (v. _Cause_, 28-32). Relations of ideas, discoverable by the mere operation of thought, independently of the existence of any object, 20. Religion a kind of philosophy, 113 (v. _Miracles, Providence_). Resemblance 19, 41 (v. _Similarity_). Resistance and idea of power, 53 n. Scepticism A. Antecedent to study and philosophy, such as Descartes' universal doubt of our faculties, would be incurable: in a more moderate sense it is useful, 116 (cf. 129-30); extravagant attempts of, to destroy reason by reasoning, 124. No such absurd creature as a man who has no opinion about anything at all, 116; admits of no answer and produces no conviction, 122 n. (cf. 34, 126, 128). B. _As to the Senses_, 117-123. The ordinary criticisms of our senses only show that they have to be corrected by Reason, 117; more profound arguments show that the vulgar belief in external objects is baseless, and that the objects we see are nothing but perceptions which are fleeting copies of other existences, 118; even this philosophy is hard to justify; it appeals neither to natural instinct, nor to experience, for experience tells nothing of objects which perceptions resemble, 119; the appeal to the _veracity of God_ is useless, 120; and scepticism is here triumphant, 121. _The distinction between primary and secondary qualities_ is useless, for the supposed primary qualities are only perceptions, 122; and Berkeley's theory that ideas of primary qualities are obtained by abstraction is impossible, 122, 122 n; if matter is deprived of both primary and secondary qualities there is nothing left except a mere something which is not worth arguing about, 123. C. _As to Reason_, 124-130. Attempt to destroy Reason by reasoning extravagant, 124; objection to _abstract reasoning_ because it asserts infinite divisibility of extension which is shocking to common sense, 124, and infinite divisibility of time, 125; yet the ideas attacked are so clear and distinct that scepticism becomes sceptical about itself, 125. Popular objections to _moral reasoning_ about matter of fact, based on weakness of understanding, variation of judgement, and disagreement among men, confuted by action, 126; philosophical objections, that we only experience conjunction and that inference is based on custom, 127; excessive scepticism refuted by its uselessness and put to flight by the most trivial event in life, 128. Mitigated scepticism or academical philosophy useful as a corrective and as producing caution and modesty, 129; and as limiting understanding to proper objects, 130; all reasoning which is not either abstract, about quantity and number, or experimental, about matters of fact, is sophistry and illusion, 132. D. In _Religion_ (v. _Miracles_, _Providence_). Sciences 132 (v. _Reason_, (d); _Scepticism_, C). Secret powers, 39; counteracting causes, 47, 67. Senses outward and inward sensation supplies all the materials of thinking--must be corrected by reason, 117. Scepticism concerning, 117 (v. _Scepticism_, B). Similarity basis of all arguments from experience, 31 (cf. 115). Solidity 50; a supposed primary quality, 122. Soul and body, 52. Space and time, 124 f. Species an effect which belongs to no species does not admit of inference to its cause, 115 (cf. 113). Stoics 34, 79. Superstition 6 (v. _Providence_). Theology science of, 132 (v. _God_, _Providence_). Tillotson argument against real presence, 86. Time and space, 124 f. Truth 8, 17 (v. _Scepticism_). Understanding limits of human, 7; operations of, to be classified, 8; opp. Experience, 28; weakness of, 126 (v. _Reason_, _Scepticism_). Voluntariness as ground of distinction between virtues and talents, 130. Whole theory that everything is good as regards 'the whole, ' 79, 80. Will compounds materials given by senses, 13; influence of over organs of body can never give us the idea of power; for we are not conscious of any power in our will, only of sequence of motions on will, 52; so with power of will over our minds in raising up new ideas, 53. Of God, cannot be used to explain motion, 57. Freedom of (v. _Necessity_).