An Enquiry ConcerningHuman Understanding

by David Hume

Styled by LimpidSoft

Contents

SECTION I 1

SECTION II 29

SECTION III 44

SECTION IV 49

PART I . . . 50

PART II . . . 67

SECTION V 86PART I . . . 87

PART II . . . 106

2

SECTION VI 126

SECTION VII 134PART I . . . 135PART II . . . 167

SECTION VIII 181PART I . . . 182PART II . . . 222

SECTION IX 239

SECTION X 252PART I . . . 253PART II . . . 271

SECTION XI 316

SECTION XII 357PART I . . . 358PART II . . . 374PART III . . 387

3

The present document was de-rived from text provided by ProjectGutenberg (document 9662) whichwas made available free of charge.This document is also free ofcharge.

4

AN ENQUIRY CONCERNINGHUMAN UNDERSTANDING

BY DAVID HUME

5

Extracted from:Enquiries Concerningthe Human Under-standing, and Con-cerning the Principlesof Morals, By DavidHume.Reprinted from ThePosthumous Edition of1777, and Edited withIntroduction, Compara-tive Tables of Contents,and Analytical Indexby L.A. Selby-Bigge,M.A., Late Fellow ofUniversity College,Oxford.

Second Edition, 1902

6

SECTION I

OF THE DIFFERENT SPECIESOF PHILOSOPHY

1. Moral philosophy, or the science of hu-man nature, may be treated after two differentmanners; each of which has its peculiar merit,

and may contribute to the entertainment, in-struction, and reformation of mankind. Theone considers man chiefly as born for action;and as influenced in his measures by taste andsentiment; pursuing one object, and avoidinganother, according to the value which these ob-jects seem to possess, and according to the lightin which they present themselves. As virtue,of all objects, is allowed to be the most valu-able, this species of philosophers paint her inthe most amiable colours; borrowing all helpsfrom poetry and eloquence, and treating theirsubject in an easy and obvious manner, andsuch as is best fitted to please the imagination,and engage the affections. They select the moststriking observations and instances from com-mon life; place opposite characters in a propercontrast; and alluring us into the paths of virtueby the views of glory and happiness, direct our

2

steps in these paths by the soundest preceptsand most illustrious examples. They make usfeel the difference between vice and virtue; theyexcite and regulate our sentiments; and so theycan but bend our hearts to the love of probityand true honour, they think, that they havefully attained the end of all their labours.

2. The other species of philosophers considerman in the light of a reasonable rather than anactive being, and endeavour to form his un-derstanding more than cultivate his manners.They regard human nature as a subject of spec-ulation; and with a narrow scrutiny examine it,in order to find those principles, which regu-late our understanding, excite our sentiments,and make us approve or blame any particularobject, action, or behaviour. They think it a re-proach to all literature, that philosophy should

3

not yet have fixed, beyond controversy, thefoundation of morals, reasoning, and criticism;and should for ever talk of truth and falsehood,vice and virtue, beauty and deformity, with-out being able to determine the source of thesedistinctions. While they attempt this arduoustask, they are deterred by no difficulties; butproceeding from particular instances to generalprinciples, they still push on their enquiries toprinciples more general, and rest not satisfiedtill they arrive at those original principles, bywhich, in every science, all human curiositymust be bounded. Though their speculationsseem abstract, and even unintelligible to com-mon readers, they aim at the approbation ofthe learned and the wise; and think themselvessufficiently compensated for the labour of theirwhole lives, if they can discover some hiddentruths, which may contribute to the instruction

4

of posterity.

3. It is certain that the easy and obviousphilosophy will always, with the generality ofmankind, have the preference above the accu-rate and abstruse; and by many will be recom-mended, not only as more agreeable, but moreuseful than the other. It enters more into com-mon life; moulds the heart and affections; and,by touching those principles which actuatemen, reforms their conduct, and brings themnearer to that model of perfection which it de-scribes. On the contrary, the abstruse philoso-phy, being founded on a turn of mind, whichcannot enter into business and action, vanisheswhen the philosopher leaves the shade, andcomes into open day; nor can its principles eas-ily retain any influence over our conduct andbehaviour. The feelings of our heart, the ag-

5

itation of our passions, the vehemence of ouraffections, dissipate all its conclusions, and re-duce the profound philosopher to a mere ple-beian.

4. This also must be confessed, that the mostdurable, as well as justest fame, has been ac-quired by the easy philosophy, and that ab-stract reasoners seem hitherto to have enjoyedonly a momentary reputation, from the capriceor ignorance of their own age, but have notbeen able to support their renown with moreequitable posterity. It is easy for a profoundphilosopher to commit a mistake in his subtilereasonings; and one mistake is the necessaryparent of another, while he pushes on his con-sequences, and is not deterred from embrac-ing any conclusion, by its unusual appearance,or its contradiction to popular opinion. But a

6

philosopher, who purposes only to representthe common sense of mankind in more beau-tiful and more engaging colours, if by accidenthe falls into error, goes no farther; but renewinghis appeal to common sense, and the naturalsentiments of the mind, returns into the rightpath, and secures himself from any danger-ous illusions. The fame of Cicero flourishes atpresent; but that of Aristotle is utterly decayed.La Bruyere passes the seas, and still maintainshis reputation: But the glory of Malebranche isconfined to his own nation, and to his own age.And Addison, perhaps, will be read with plea-sure, when Locke shall be entirely forgotten.

The mere philosopher is a character, whichis commonly but little acceptable in the world,as being supposed to contribute nothing ei-ther to the advantage or pleasure of society;

7

while he lives remote from communicationwith mankind, and is wrapped up in principlesand notions equally remote from their compre-hension. On the other hand, the mere ignorantis still more despised; nor is any thing deemeda surer sign of an illiberal genius in an age andnation where the sciences flourish, than to beentirely destitute of all relish for those nobleentertainments. The most perfect character issupposed to lie between those extremes; retain-ing an equal ability and taste for books, com-pany, and business; preserving in conversationthat discernment and delicacy which arise frompolite letters; and in business, that probity andaccuracy which are the natural result of a justphilosophy. In order to diffuse and cultivate soaccomplished a character, nothing can be moreuseful than compositions of the easy style andmanner, which draw not too much from life, re-

8

quire no deep application or retreat to be com-prehended, and send back the student amongmankind full of noble sentiments and wise pre-cepts, applicable to every exigence of humanlife. By means of such compositions, virtue be-comes amiable, science agreeable, company in-structive, and retirement entertaining.

Man is a reasonable being; and as such, re-ceives from science his proper food and nour-ishment: But so narrow are the bounds of hu-man understanding, that little satisfaction canbe hoped for in this particular, either from theextent of security or his acquisitions. Man is asociable, no less than a reasonable being: Butneither can he always enjoy company agree-able and amusing, or preserve the proper relishfor them. Man is also an active being; and fromthat disposition, as well as from the various ne-

9

cessities of human life, must submit to businessand occupation: But the mind requires some re-laxation, and cannot always support its bent tocare and industry. It seems, then, that naturehas pointed out a mixed kind of life as mostsuitable to the human race, and secretly ad-monished them to allow none of these biassesto draw too much, so as to incapacitate themfor other occupations and entertainments. In-dulge your passion for science, says she, but letyour science be human, and such as may havea direct reference to action and society. Ab-struse thought and profound researches I pro-hibit, and will severely punish, by the pensivemelancholy which they introduce, by the end-less uncertainty in which they involve you, andby the cold reception which your pretendeddiscoveries shall meet with, when communi-cated. Be a philosopher; but, amidst all your

10

philosophy, be still a man.

5. Were the generality of mankind contentedto prefer the easy philosophy to the abstractand profound, without throwing any blameor contempt on the latter, it might not be im-proper, perhaps, to comply with this generalopinion, and allow every man to enjoy, withoutopposition, his own taste and sentiment. Butas the matter is often carried farther, even tothe absolute rejecting of all profound reason-ings, or what is commonly called metaphysics,we shall now proceed to consider what can rea-sonably be pleaded in their behalf.

We may begin with observing, that one con-siderable advantage, which results from theaccurate and abstract philosophy, is, its sub-serviency to the easy and humane; which,without the former, can never attain a suffi-

11

cient degree of exactness in its sentiments, pre-cepts, or reasonings. All polite letters are noth-ing but pictures of human life in various atti-tudes and situations; and inspire us with differ-ent sentiments, of praise or blame, admirationor ridicule, according to the qualities of the ob-ject, which they set before us. An artist must bebetter qualified to succeed in this undertaking,who, besides a delicate taste and a quick ap-prehension, possesses an accurate knowledgeof the internal fabric, the operations of the un-derstanding, the workings of the passions, andthe various species of sentiment which discrim-inate vice and virtue. How painful soever thisinward search or enquiry may appear, it be-comes, in some measure, requisite to those,who would describe with success the obviousand outward appearances of life and manners.The anatomist presents to the eye the most

12

hideous and disagreeable objects; but his sci-ence is useful to the painter in delineating evena Venus or an Helen. While the latter employsall the richest colours of his art, and gives hisfigures the most graceful and engaging airs;he must still carry his attention to the inwardstructure of the human body, the position ofthe muscles, the fabric of the bones, and the useand figure of every part or organ. Accuracy is,in every case, advantageous to beauty, and justreasoning to delicate sentiment. In vain wouldwe exalt the one by depreciating the other.

Besides, we may observe, in every art or pro-fession, even those which most concern life oraction, that a spirit of accuracy, however ac-quired, carries all of them nearer their perfec-tion, and renders them more subservient to theinterests of society. And though a philosopher

13

may live remote from business, the genius ofphilosophy, if carefully cultivated by several,must gradually diffuse itself throughout thewhole society, and bestow a similar correctnesson every art and calling. The politician will ac-quire greater foresight and subtility, in the sub-dividing and balancing of power; the lawyermore method and finer principles in his reason-ings; and the general more regularity in his dis-cipline, and more caution in his plans and op-erations. The stability of modern governmentsabove the ancient, and the accuracy of modernphilosophy, have improved, and probably willstill improve, by similar gradations.

6. Were there no advantage to be reapedfrom these studies, beyond the gratification ofan innocent curiosity, yet ought not even thisto be despised; as being one accession to those

14

few safe and harmless pleasures, which are be-stowed on human race. The sweetest and mostinoffensive path of life leads through the av-enues of science and learning; and whoevercan either remove any obstructions in this way,or open up any new prospect, ought so far tobe esteemed a benefactor to mankind. Andthough these researches may appear painfuland fatiguing, it is with some minds as withsome bodies, which being endowed with vig-orous and florid health, require severe exer-cise, and reap a pleasure from what, to thegenerality of mankind, may seem burdensomeand laborious. Obscurity, indeed, is painful tothe mind as well as to the eye; but to bringlight from obscurity, by whatever labour, mustneeds be delightful and rejoicing.

But this obscurity in the profound and ab-

15

stract philosophy, is objected to, not only aspainful and fatiguing, but as the inevitablesource of uncertainty and error. Here indeedlies the justest and most plausible objectionagainst a considerable part of metaphysics, thatthey are not properly a science; but arise ei-ther from the fruitless efforts of human van-ity, which would penetrate into subjects utterlyinaccessible to the understanding, or from thecraft of popular superstitions, which, being un-able to defend themselves on fair ground, raisethese intangling brambles to cover and protecttheir weakness. Chaced from the open coun-try, these robbers fly into the forest, and lie inwait to break in upon every unguarded avenueof the mind, and overwhelm it with religiousfears and prejudices. The stoutest antagonist,if he remit his watch a moment, is oppressed.And many, through cowardice and folly, open

16

the gates to the enemies, and willingly receivethem with reverence and submission, as theirlegal sovereigns.

7. But is this a sufficient reason, why philoso-phers should desist from such researches, andleave superstition still in possession of her re-treat? Is it not proper to draw an oppositeconclusion, and perceive the necessity of carry-ing the war into the most secret recesses of theenemy? In vain do we hope, that men, fromfrequent disappointment, will at last abandonsuch airy sciences, and discover the properprovince of human reason. For, besides, thatmany persons find too sensible an interest inperpetually recalling such topics; besides this,I say, the motive of blind despair can never rea-sonably have place in the sciences; since, how-ever unsuccessful former attempts may have

17

proved, there is still room to hope, that theindustry, good fortune, or improved sagacityof succeeding generations may reach discover-ies unknown to former ages. Each adventur-ous genius will still leap at the arduous prize,and find himself stimulated, rather that dis-couraged, by the failures of his predecessors;while he hopes that the glory of achieving sohard an adventure is reserved for him alone.The only method of freeing learning, at once,from these abstruse questions, is to enquire se-riously into the nature of human understand-ing, and show, from an exact analysis of itspowers and capacity, that it is by no means fit-ted for such remote and abstruse subjects. Wemust submit to this fatigue, in order to live atease ever after: And must cultivate true meta-physics with some care, in order to destroythe false and adulterate. Indolence, which, to

18

some persons, affords a safeguard against thisdeceitful philosophy, is, with others, overbal-anced by curiosity; and despair, which, at somemoments, prevails, may give place afterwardsto sanguine hopes and expectations. Accurateand just reasoning is the only catholic remedy,fitted for all persons and all dispositions; andis alone able to subvert that abstruse philos-ophy and metaphysical jargon, which, beingmixed up with popular superstition, renders itin a manner impenetrable to careless reasoners,and gives it the air of science and wisdom.

8. Besides this advantage of rejecting, af-ter deliberate enquiry, the most uncertain anddisagreeable part of learning, there are manypositive advantages, which result from an ac-curate scrutiny into the powers and facultiesof human nature. It is remarkable concern-

19

ing the operations of the mind, that, thoughmost intimately present to us, yet, wheneverthey become the object of reflexion, they seeminvolved in obscurity; nor can the eye read-ily find those lines and boundaries, which dis-criminate and distinguish them. The objects aretoo fine to remain long in the same aspect orsituation; and must be apprehended in an in-stant, by a superior penetration, derived fromnature, and improved by habit and reflexion.It becomes, therefore, no inconsiderable part ofscience barely to know the different operationsof the mind, to separate them from each other,to class them under their proper heads, and tocorrect all that seeming disorder, in which theylie involved, when made the object of reflexionand enquiry. This talk of ordering and distin-guishing, which has no merit, when performedwith regard to external bodies, the objects of

20

our senses, rises in its value, when directed to-wards the operations of the mind, in propor-tion to the difficulty and labour, which we meetwith in performing it. And if we can go no far-ther than this mental geography, or delineationof the distinct parts and powers of the mind,it is at least a satisfaction to go so far; and themore obvious this science may appear (and itis by no means obvious) the more contemptiblestill must the ignorance of it be esteemed, in allpretenders to learning and philosophy.

Nor can there remain any suspicion, that thisscience is uncertain and chimerical; unless weshould entertain such a scepticism as is entirelysubversive of all speculation, and even action.It cannot be doubted, that the mind is endowedwith several powers and faculties, that thesepowers are distinct from each other, that what

21

is really distinct to the immediate perceptionmay be distinguished by reflexion; and conse-quently, that there is a truth and falsehood inall propositions on this subject, and a truth andfalsehood, which lie not beyond the compass ofhuman understanding. There are many obvi-ous distinctions of this kind, such as those be-tween the will and understanding, the imagi-nation and passions, which fall within the com-prehension of every human creature; and thefiner and more philosophical distinctions areno less real and certain, though more difficultto be comprehended. Some instances, espe-cially late ones, of success in these enquiries,may give us a juster notion of the certainty andsolidity of this branch of learning. And shallwe esteem it worthy the labour of a philoso-pher to give us a true system of the planets,and adjust the position and order of those re-

22

mote bodies; while we affect to overlook those,who, with so much success, delineate the partsof the mind, in which we are so intimately con-cerned?

9. But may we not hope, that philosophy,if cultivated with care, and encouraged bythe attention of the public, may carry its re-searches still farther, and discover, at least insome degree, the secret springs and principles,by which the human mind is actuated in itsoperations? Astronomers had long contentedthemselves with proving, from the phaenom-ena, the true motions, order, and magnitudeof the heavenly bodies: Till a philosopher, atlast, arose, who seems, from the happiest rea-soning, to have also determined the laws andforces, by which the revolutions of the planetsare governed and directed. The like has been

23

performed with regard to other parts of na-ture. And there is no reason to despair of equalsuccess in our enquiries concerning the men-tal powers and economy, if prosecuted withequal capacity and caution. It is probable, thatone operation and principle of the mind de-pends on another; which, again, may be re-solved into one more general and universal:And how far these researches may possibly becarried, it will be difficult for us, before, oreven after, a careful trial, exactly to determine.This is certain, that attempts of this kind areevery day made even by those who philoso-phize the most negligently: And nothing canbe more requisite than to enter upon the enter-prize with thorough care and attention; that, ifit lie within the compass of human understand-ing, it may at last be happily achieved; if not,it may, however, be rejected with some confi-

24

dence and security. This last conclusion, surely,is not desirable; nor ought it to be embraced toorashly. For how much must we diminish fromthe beauty and value of this species of philoso-phy, upon such a supposition? Moralists havehitherto been accustomed, when they consid-ered the vast multitude and diversity of thoseactions that excite our approbation or dislike,to search for some common principle, on whichthis variety of sentiments might depend. Andthough they have sometimes carried the mattertoo far, by their passion for some one generalprinciple; it must, however, be confessed, thatthey are excusable in expecting to find somegeneral principles, into which all the vices andvirtues were justly to be resolved. The like hasbeen the endeavour of critics, logicians, andeven politicians: Nor have their attempts beenwholly unsuccessful; though perhaps longer

25

time, greater accuracy, and more ardent ap-plication may bring these sciences still nearertheir perfection. To throw up at once all preten-sions of this kind may justly be deemed morerash, precipitate, and dogmatical, than even theboldest and most affirmative philosophy, thathas ever attempted to impose its crude dictatesand principles on mankind.

10. What though these reasonings concern-ing human nature seem abstract, and of diffi-cult comprehension? This affords no presump-tion of their falsehood. On the contrary, itseems impossible, that what has hitherto es-caped so many wise and profound philoso-phers can be very obvious and easy. And what-ever pains these researches may cost us, wemay think ourselves sufficiently rewarded, notonly in point of profit but of pleasure, if, by that

26

means, we can make any addition to our stockof knowledge, in subjects of such unspeakableimportance.

But as, after all, the abstractedness of thesespeculations is no recommendation, but rathera disadvantage to them, and as this difficultymay perhaps be surmounted by care and art,and the avoiding of all unnecessary detail, wehave, in the following enquiry, attempted tothrow some light upon subjects, from whichuncertainty has hitherto deterred the wise, andobscurity the ignorant. Happy, if we can unitethe boundaries of the different species of phi-losophy, by reconciling profound enquiry withclearness, and truth with novelty! And stillmore happy, if, reasoning in this easy manner,we can undermine the foundations of an ab-struse philosophy, which seems to have hith-

27

erto served only as a shelter to superstition,and a cover to absurdity and error!

28

SECTION II

OF THE ORIGIN OF IDEAS

11. Every one will readily allow, that thereis a considerable difference between the per-ceptions of the mind, when a man feels thepain of excessive heat, or the pleasure of mod-erate warmth, and when he afterwards recalls

to his memory this sensation, or anticipates itby his imagination. These faculties may mimicor copy the perceptions of the senses; but theynever can entirely reach the force and vivacityof the original sentiment. The utmost we sayof them, even when they operate with greatestvigour, is, that they represent their object in solively a manner, that we could almost say wefeel or see it: But, except the mind be disor-dered by disease or madness, they never canarrive at such a pitch of vivacity, as to ren-der these perceptions altogether undistinguish-able. All the colours of poetry, however splen-did, can never paint natural objects in such amanner as to make the description be taken fora real landskip. The most lively thought is stillinferior to the dullest sensation.

We may observe a like distinction to run

30

through all the other perceptions of the mind.A man in a fit of anger, is actuated in a verydifferent manner from one who only thinks ofthat emotion. If you tell me, that any per-son is in love, I easily understand your mean-ing, and form a just conception of his situa-tion; but never can mistake that conception forthe real disorders and agitations of the pas-sion. When we reflect on our past sentimentsand affections, our thought is a faithful mir-ror, and copies its objects truly; but the colourswhich it employs are faint and dull, in compar-ison of those in which our original perceptionswere clothed. It requires no nice discernmentor metaphysical head to mark the distinctionbetween them.

12. Here therefore we may divide all the per-ceptions of the mind into two classes or species,

31

which are distinguished by their different de-grees of force and vivacity. The less forcible andlively are commonly denominated Thoughts orIdeas. The other species want a name in our lan-guage, and in most others; I suppose, becauseit was not requisite for any, but philosophicalpurposes, to rank them under a general termor appellation. Let us, therefore, use a littlefreedom, and call them Impressions; employingthat word in a sense somewhat different fromthe usual. By the term impression, then, I meanall our more lively perceptions, when we hear,or see, or feel, or love, or hate, or desire, orwill. And impressions are distinguished fromideas, which are the less lively perceptions, ofwhich we are conscious, when we reflect onany of those sensations or movements abovementioned.

32

13. Nothing, at first view, may seem moreunbounded than the thought of man, whichnot only escapes all human power and author-ity, but is not even restrained within the lim-its of nature and reality. To form monsters,and join incongruous shapes and appearances,costs the imagination no more trouble than toconceive the most natural and familiar objects.And while the body is confined to one planet,along which it creeps with pain and difficulty;the thought can in an instant transport us intothe most distant regions of the universe; oreven beyond the universe, into the unboundedchaos, where nature is supposed to lie in totalconfusion. What never was seen, or heard of,may yet be conceived; nor is any thing beyondthe power of thought, except what implies anabsolute contradiction.

33

But though our thought seems to possessthis unbounded liberty, we shall find, upon anearer examination, that it is really confinedwithin very narrow limits, and that all this cre-ative power of the mind amounts to no morethan the faculty of compounding, transposing,augmenting, or diminishing the materials af-forded us by the senses and experience. Whenwe think of a golden mountain, we only jointwo consistent ideas, gold, and mountain, withwhich we were formerly acquainted. A vir-tuous horse we can conceive; because, fromour own feeling, we can conceive virtue; andthis we may unite to the figure and shape ofa horse, which is an animal familiar to us. Inshort, all the materials of thinking are derivedeither from our outward or inward sentiment:the mixture and composition of these belongsalone to the mind and will. Or, to express my-

34

self in philosophical language, all our ideas ormore feeble perceptions are copies of our im-pressions or more lively ones.

14. To prove this, the two following argu-ments will, I hope, be sufficient. First, when weanalyze our thoughts or ideas, however com-pounded or sublime, we always find that theyresolve themselves into such simple ideas aswere copied from a precedent feeling or sen-timent. Even those ideas, which, at first view,seem the most wide of this origin, are found,upon a nearer scrutiny, to be derived from it.The idea of God, as meaning an infinitely in-telligent, wise, and good Being, arises from re-flecting on the operations of our own mind,and augmenting, without limit, those qualitiesof goodness and wisdom. We may prosecutethis enquiry to what length we please; where

35

we shall always find, that every idea whichwe examine is copied from a similar impres-sion. Those who would assert that this posi-tion is not universally true nor without excep-tion, have only one, and that an easy methodof refuting it; by producing that idea, which, intheir opinion, is not derived from this source.It will then be incumbent on us, if we wouldmaintain our doctrine, to produce the impres-sion, or lively perception, which correspondsto it.

15. Secondly. If it happen, from a defect ofthe organ, that a man is not susceptible of anyspecies of sensation, we always find that he isas little susceptible of the correspondent ideas.A blind man can form no notion of colours; adeaf man of sounds. Restore either of them thatsense in which he is deficient; by opening this

36

new inlet for his sensations, you also open aninlet for the ideas; and he finds no difficulty inconceiving these objects. The case is the same,if the object, proper for exciting any sensation,has never been applied to the organ. A Lap-lander or Negro has no notion of the relish ofwine. And though there are few or no instancesof a like deficiency in the mind, where a personhas never felt or is wholly incapable of a senti-ment or passion that belongs to his species; yetwe find the same observation to take place in aless degree. A man of mild manners can formno idea of inveterate revenge or cruelty; norcan a selfish heart easily conceive the heights offriendship and generosity. It is readily allowed,that other beings may possess many senses ofwhich we can have no conception; because theideas of them have never been introduced to usin the only manner by which an idea can have

37

access to the mind, to wit, by the actual feelingand sensation.

16. There is, however, one contradictoryphenomenon, which may prove that it is notabsolutely impossible for ideas to arise, inde-pendent of their correspondent impressions. Ibelieve it will readily be allowed, that the sev-eral distinct ideas of colour, which enter by theeye, or those of sound, which are conveyedby the ear, are really different from each other;though, at the same time, resembling. Nowif this be true of different colours, it must beno less so of the different shades of the samecolour; and each shade produces a distinctidea, independent of the rest. For if this shouldbe denied, it is possible, by the continual gra-dation of shades, to run a colour insensibly intowhat is most remote from it; and if you will not

38

allow any of the means to be different, you can-not, without absurdity, deny the extremes to bethe same. Suppose, therefore, a person to haveenjoyed his sight for thirty years, and to havebecome perfectly acquainted with colours of allkinds except one particular shade of blue, forinstance, which it never has been his fortune tomeet with. Let all the different shades of thatcolour, except that single one, be placed beforehim, descending gradually from the deepest tothe lightest; it is plain that he will perceive ablank, where that shade is wanting, and will besensible that there is a greater distance in thatplace between the contiguous colours than inany other. Now I ask, whether it be possible forhim, from his own imagination, to supply thisdeficiency, and raise up to himself the idea ofthat particular shade, though it had never beenconveyed to him by his senses? I believe there

39

are few but will be of opinion that he can: andthis may serve as a proof that the simple ideasare not always, in every instance, derived fromthe correspondent impressions; though this in-stance is so singular, that it is scarcely worthour observing, and does not merit that for italone we should alter our general maxim.

17. Here, therefore, is a proposition, whichnot only seems, in itself, simple and intelligible;but, if a proper use were made of it, might ren-der every dispute equally intelligible, and ban-ish all that jargon, which has so long taken pos-session of metaphysical reasonings, and drawndisgrace upon them. All ideas, especially ab-stract ones, are naturally faint and obscure: themind has but a slender hold of them: they areapt to be confounded with other resemblingideas; and when we have often employed any

40

term, though without a distinct meaning, weare apt to imagine it has a determinate idea an-nexed to it. On the contrary, all impressions,that is, all sensations, either outward or in-ward, are strong and vivid: the limits betweenthem are more exactly determined: nor is iteasy to fall into any error or mistake with re-gard to them. When we entertain, therefore,any suspicion that a philosophical term is em-ployed without any meaning or idea (as is buttoo frequent), we need but enquire, from whatimpression is that supposed idea derived? And ifit be impossible to assign any, this will serve toconfirm our suspicion. By bringing ideas intoso clear a light we may reasonably hope to re-move all dispute, which may arise, concerningtheir nature and reality.1

1It is probable that no more was meant by those,

41

who denied innate ideas, than that all ideas were copiesof our impressions; though it must be confessed, thatthe terms, which they employed, were not chosen withsuch caution, nor so exactly defined, as to prevent allmistakes about their doctrine. For what is meant by in-nate? If innate be equivalent to natural, then all the per-ceptions and ideas of the mind must be allowed to beinnate or natural, in whatever sense we take the latterword, whether in opposition to what is uncommon, ar-tificial, or miraculous. If by innate be meant, contem-porary to our birth, the dispute seems to be frivolous;nor is it worth while to enquire at what time thinkingbegins, whether before, at, or after our birth. Again,the word idea, seems to be commonly taken in a veryloose sense, by LOCKE and others; as standing for anyof our perceptions, our sensations and passions, as wellas thoughts. Now in this sense, I should desire to know,what can be meant by asserting, that self-love, or resent-ment of injuries, or the passion between the sexes is notinnate?But admitting these terms, impressions and ideas, in thesense above explained, and understanding by innate,

42

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, thatLOCKE was betrayed into this question by the school-men, who, making use of undefined terms, draw outtheir disputes to a tedious length, without ever touchingthe point in question. A like ambiguity and circumlocu-tion seem to run through that philosopher’s reasoningson this as well as most other subjects.

43

SECTION III

OF THE ASSOCIATION OFIDEAS

18. It is evident that there is a principle ofconnexion between the different thoughts orideas of the mind, and that, in their appearance

to the memory or imagination, they introduceeach other with a certain degree of method andregularity. In our more serious thinking or dis-course this is so observable that any particularthought, which breaks in upon the regular tractor chain of ideas, is immediately remarked andrejected. And even in our wildest and mostwandering reveries, nay in our very dreams,we shall find, if we reflect, that the imaginationran not altogether at adventures, but that therewas still a connexion upheld among the differ-ent ideas, which succeeded each other. Werethe loosest and freest conversation to be tran-scribed, there would immediately be observedsomething which connected it in all its tran-sitions. Or where this is wanting, the personwho broke the thread of discourse might stillinform you, that there had secretly revolved inhis mind a succession of thought, which had

45

gradually led him from the subject of conversa-tion. Among different languages, even wherewe cannot suspect the least connexion or com-munication, it is found, that the words, ex-pressive of ideas, the most compounded, doyet nearly correspond to each other: a certainproof that the simple ideas, comprehended inthe compound ones, were bound together bysome universal principle, which had an equalinfluence on all mankind.

19. Though it be too obvious to escape ob-servation, that different ideas are connected to-gether; I do not find that any philosopher hasattempted to enumerate or class all the prin-ciples of association; a subject, however, thatseems worthy of curiosity. To me, there appearto be only three principles of connexion amongideas, namely, Resemblance, Contiguity in time

46

or place, and Cause or Effect.That these principles serve to connect ideas

will not, I believe, be much doubted. A picturenaturally leads our thoughts to the original2:the mention of one apartment in a buildingnaturally introduces an enquiry or discourseconcerning the others3: and if we think ofa wound, we can scarcely forbear reflectingon the pain which follows it4. But that thisenumeration is complete, and that there areno other principles of association except these,may be difficult to prove to the satisfaction ofthe reader, or even to a man’s own satisfaction.All we can do, in such cases, is to run over sev-eral instances, and examine carefully the prin-

2Resemblance.3Contiguity.4Cause and effect.

47

ciple which binds the different thoughts to eachother, never stopping till we render the princi-ple as general as possible5. The more instanceswe examine, and the more care we employ, themore assurance shall we acquire, that the enu-meration, which we form from the whole, iscomplete and entire, of the annihilation of anobject, implies the idea of its former existence.

5For instance, Contrast or Contrariety is also a con-nexion among Ideas: but it may, perhaps, be consideredas a mixture of Causation and Resemblance. Where twoobjects are contrary, the one destroys the other; that is,the cause of its annihilation, and the idea of the annihila-tion of an object, implies the idea of its former existence.

48

SECTION IV

SCEPTICAL DOUBTSCONCERNING THE

OPERATIONS OF THEUNDERSTANDING

PART I

20. All the objects of human reason or en-quiry may naturally be divided into two kinds,to wit, Relations of Ideas, and Matters of Fact.Of the first kind are the sciences of Geome-try, Algebra, and Arithmetic; and in short, ev-ery affirmation which is either intuitively ordemonstratively certain. That the square of thehypothenuse is equal to the square of the two sides,is a proposition which expresses a relation be-tween these figures. That three times five is equalto the half of thirty, expresses a relation betweenthese numbers. Propositions of this kind arediscoverable by the mere operation of thought,without dependence on what is anywhere exis-tent in the universe. Though there never werea circle or triangle in nature, the truths demon-

50

PART I

strated by Euclid would for ever retain theircertainty and evidence.

21. Matters of fact, which are the secondobjects of human reason, are not ascertainedin the same manner; nor is our evidence oftheir truth, however great, of a like nature withthe foregoing. The contrary of every matter offact is still possible; because it can never im-ply a contradiction, and is conceived by themind with the same facility and distinctness,as if ever so conformable to reality. That thesun will not rise to-morrow is no less intelligiblea proposition, and implies no more contradic-tion than the affirmation, that it will rise. Weshould in vain, therefore, attempt to demon-strate its falsehood. Were it demonstrativelyfalse, it would imply a contradiction, and couldnever be distinctly conceived by the mind.

51

PART I

It may, therefore, be a subject worthy of cu-riosity, to enquire what is the nature of that ev-idence which assures us of any real existenceand matter of fact, beyond the present testi-mony of our senses, or the records of our mem-ory. This part of philosophy, it is observable,has been little cultivated, either by the ancientsor moderns; and therefore our doubts and er-rors, in the prosecution of so important an en-quiry, may be the more excusable; while wemarch through such difficult paths without anyguide or direction. They may even prove use-ful, by exciting curiosity, and destroying thatimplicit faith and security, which is the baneof all reasoning and free enquiry. The discov-ery of defects in the common philosophy, if anysuch there be, will not, I presume, be a discour-agement, but rather an incitement, as is usual,to attempt something more full and satisfac-

52

PART I

tory than has yet been proposed to the public.

22. All reasonings concerning matter of factseem to be founded on the relation of Cause andEffect. By means of that relation alone we cango beyond the evidence of our memory andsenses. If you were to ask a man, why he be-lieves any matter of fact, which is absent; forinstance, that his friend is in the country, or inFrance; he would give you a reason; and thisreason would be some other fact; as a letter re-ceived from him, or the knowledge of his for-mer resolutions and promises. A man findinga watch or any other machine in a desert is-land, would conclude that there had once beenmen in that island. All our reasonings concern-ing fact are of the same nature. And here it isconstantly supposed that there is a connexionbetween the present fact and that which is in-

53

PART I

ferred from it. Were there nothing to bind themtogether, the inference would be entirely pre-carious. The hearing of an articulate voice andrational discourse in the dark assures us of thepresence of some person: Why? because theseare the effects of the human make and fabric,and closely connected with it. If we anatomizeall the other reasonings of this nature, we shallfind that they are founded on the relation ofcause and effect, and that this relation is eithernear or remote, direct or collateral. Heat andlight are collateral effects of fire, and the oneeffect may justly be inferred from the other.

23. If we would satisfy ourselves, therefore,concerning the nature of that evidence, whichassures us of matters of fact, we must enquirehow we arrive at the knowledge of cause andeffect.

54

PART I

I shall venture to affirm, as a general propo-sition, which admits of no exception, that theknowledge of this relation is not, in any in-stance, attained by reasonings a priori; butarises entirely from experience, when we findthat any particular objects are constantly con-joined with each other. Let an object be pre-sented to a man of ever so strong natural rea-son and abilities; if that object be entirely newto him, he will not be able, by the most ac-curate examination of its sensible qualities, todiscover any of its causes or effects. Adam,though his rational faculties be supposed, atthe very first, entirely perfect, could not haveinferred from the fluidity and transparency ofwater that it would suffocate him, or from thelight and warmth of fire that it would consumehim. No object ever discovers, by the qualitieswhich appear to the senses, either the causes

55

PART I

which produced it, or the effects which willarise from it; nor can our reason, unassisted byexperience, ever draw any inference concern-ing real existence and matter of fact.

24. This proposition, that causes and effectsare discoverable, not by reason but by experience,will readily be admitted with regard to suchobjects, as we remember to have once beenaltogether unknown to us; since we must beconscious of the utter inability, which we thenlay under, of foretelling what would arise fromthem. Present two smooth pieces of marble toa man who has no tincture of natural philoso-phy; he will never discover that they will ad-here together in such a manner as to requiregreat force to separate them in a direct line,while they make so small a resistance to a lat-eral pressure. Such events, as bear little anal-

56

PART I

ogy to the common course of nature, are alsoreadily confessed to be known only by experi-ence; nor does any man imagine that the explo-sion of gunpowder, or the attraction of a load-stone, could ever be discovered by argumentsa priori. In like manner, when an effect is sup-posed to depend upon an intricate machineryor secret structure of parts, we make no diffi-culty in attributing all our knowledge of it toexperience. Who will assert that he can give theultimate reason, why milk or bread is propernourishment for a man, not for a lion or a tiger?

But the same truth may not appear, at firstsight, to have the same evidence with regardto events, which have become familiar to usfrom our first appearance in the world, whichbear a close analogy to the whole course of na-ture, and which are supposed to depend on

57

PART I

the simple qualities of objects, without any se-cret structure of parts. We are apt to imag-ine that we could discover these effects by themere operation of our reason, without experi-ence. We fancy, that were we brought on a sud-den into this world, we could at first have in-ferred that one Billiard-ball would communi-cate motion to another upon impulse; and thatwe needed not to have waited for the event, inorder to pronounce with certainty concerningit. Such is the influence of custom, that, whereit is strongest, it not only covers our natural ig-norance, but even conceals itself, and seems notto take place, merely because it is found in thehighest degree.

25. But to convince us that all the laws ofnature, and all the operations of bodies with-out exception, are known only by experience,

58

PART I

the following reflections may, perhaps, suffice.Were any object presented to us, and were werequired to pronounce concerning the effect,which will result from it, without consultingpast observation; after what manner, I beseechyou, must the mind proceed in this operation?It must invent or imagine some event, whichit ascribes to the object as its effect; and it isplain that this invention must be entirely ar-bitrary. The mind can never possibly find theeffect in the supposed cause, by the most ac-curate scrutiny and examination. For the ef-fect is totally different from the cause, and con-sequently can never be discovered in it. Mo-tion in the second Billiard-ball is a quite dis-tinct event from motion in the first; nor is thereanything in the one to suggest the smallest hintof the other. A stone or piece of metal raisedinto the air, and left without any support, im-

59

PART I

mediately falls: but to consider the matter a pri-ori, is there anything we discover in this situa-tion which can beget the idea of a downward,rather than an upward, or any other motion,in the stone or metal? And as the first imagi-nation or invention of a particular effect, in allnatural operations, is arbitrary, where we con-sult not experience; so must we also esteem thesupposed tie or connexion between the causeand effect, which binds them together, and ren-ders it impossible that any other effect couldresult from the operation of that cause. WhenI see, for instance, a Billiard-ball moving ina straight line towards another; even supposemotion in the second ball should by accidentbe suggested to me, as the result of their con-tact or impulse; may I not conceive, that a hun-dred different events might as well follow fromthat cause? May not both these balls remain at

60

PART I

absolute rest? May not the first ball return in astraight line, or leap off from the second in anyline or direction? All these suppositions areconsistent and conceivable. Why then shouldwe give the preference to one, which is no moreconsistent or conceivable than the rest? All ourreasonings a priori will never be able to showus any foundation for this preference.

In a word, then, every effect is a distinctevent from its cause. It could not, therefore,be discovered in the cause, and the first inven-tion or conception of it, a priori, must be entirelyarbitrary. And even after it is suggested, theconjunction of it with the cause must appearequally arbitrary; since there are always manyother effects, which, to reason, must seem fullyas consistent and natural. In vain, therefore,should we pretend to determine any single

61

PART I

event, or infer any cause or effect, without theassistance of observation and experience.

26. Hence we may discover the reason whyno philosopher, who is rational and modest,has ever pretended to assign the ultimate causeof any natural operation, or to show distinctlythe action of that power, which produces anysingle effect in the universe. It is confessed,that the utmost effort of human reason is to re-duce the principles, productive of natural phe-nomena, to a greater simplicity, and to resolvethe many particular effects into a few generalcauses, by means of reasonings from analogy,experience, and observation. But as to thecauses of these general causes, we should invain attempt their discovery; nor shall we everbe able to satisfy ourselves, by any particularexplication of them. These ultimate springs

62

PART I

and principles are totally shut up from humancuriosity and enquiry. Elasticity, gravity, cohe-sion of parts, communication of motion by im-pulse; these are probably the ultimate causesand principles which we shall ever discoverin nature; and we may esteem ourselves suf-ficiently happy, if, by accurate enquiry and rea-soning, we can trace up the particular phenom-ena to, or near to, these general principles. Themost perfect philosophy of the natural kindonly staves off our ignorance a little longer:as perhaps the most perfect philosophy of themoral or metaphysical kind serves only to dis-cover larger portions of it. Thus the observa-tion of human blindness and weakness is theresult of all philosophy, and meets us at ev-ery turn, in spite of our endeavours to eludeor avoid it.

63

PART I

27. Nor is geometry, when taken into theassistance of natural philosophy, ever able toremedy this defect, or lead us into the knowl-edge of ultimate causes, by all that accuracyof reasoning for which it is so justly cele-brated. Every part of mixed mathematics pro-ceeds upon the supposition that certain lawsare established by nature in her operations; andabstract reasonings are employed, either to as-sist experience in the discovery of these laws,or to determine their influence in particular in-stances, where it depends upon any precise de-gree of distance and quantity. Thus, it is a lawof motion, discovered by experience, that themoment or force of any body in motion is in thecompound ratio or proportion of its solid con-tents and its velocity; and consequently, thata small force may remove the greatest obsta-cle or raise the greatest weight, if, by any con-

64

PART I

trivance or machinery, we can increase the ve-locity of that force, so as to make it an over-match for its antagonist. Geometry assists us inthe application of this law, by giving us the justdimensions of all the parts and figures whichcan enter into any species of machine; but stillthe discovery of the law itself is owing merelyto experience, and all the abstract reasoningsin the world could never lead us one step to-wards the knowledge of it. When we reason apriori, and consider merely any object or cause,as it appears to the mind, independent of allobservation, it never could suggest to us thenotion of any distinct object, such as its effect;much less, show us the inseparable and invi-olable connexion between them. A man mustbe very sagacious who could discover by rea-soning that crystal is the effect of heat, and iceof cold, without being previously acquainted

65

PART I

with the operation of these qualities.

66

PART II

28. But we have not yet attained any tolera-ble satisfaction with regard to the question firstproposed. Each solution still gives rise to a newquestion as difficult as the foregoing, and leadsus on to farther enquiries. When it is asked,What is the nature of all our reasonings concerningmatter of fact? the proper answer seems to be,that they are founded on the relation of causeand effect. When again it is asked, What is thefoundation of all our reasonings and conclusionsconcerning that relation? it may be replied in oneword, Experience. But if we still carry on oursifting humour, and ask, What is the foundationof all conclusions from experience? this impliesa new question, which may be of more dif-ficult solution and explication. Philosophers,

67

PART II

that give themselves airs of superior wisdomand sufficiency, have a hard task when theyencounter persons of inquisitive dispositions,who push them from every corner to whichthey retreat, and who are sure at last to bringthem to some dangerous dilemma. The best ex-pedient to prevent this confusion, is to be mod-est in our pretensions; and even to discover thedifficulty ourselves before it is objected to us.By this means, we may make a kind of merit ofour very ignorance.

I shall content myself, in this section, with aneasy task, and shall pretend only to give a neg-ative answer to the question here proposed. Isay then, that, even after we have experience ofthe operations of cause and effect, our conclu-sions from that experience are not founded onreasoning, or any process of the understand-

68

PART II

ing. This answer we must endeavour both toexplain and to defend.

29. It must certainly be allowed, that naturehas kept us at a great distance from all her se-crets, and has afforded us only the knowledgeof a few superficial qualities of objects; whileshe conceals from us those powers and prin-ciples on which the influence of those objectsentirely depends. Our senses inform us of thecolour, weight, and consistence of bread; butneither sense nor reason can ever inform us ofthose qualities which fit it for the nourishmentand support of a human body. Sight or feelingconveys an idea of the actual motion of bodies;but as to that wonderful force or power, whichwould carry on a moving body for ever in acontinued change of place, and which bodiesnever lose but by communicating it to others;

69

PART II

of this we cannot form the most distant con-ception. But notwithstanding this ignorance ofnatural powers6 and principles, we always pre-sume, when we see like sensible qualities, thatthey have like secret powers, and expect thateffects, similar to those which we have experi-enced, will follow from them. If a body of likecolour and consistence with that bread, whichwe have formerly eat, be presented to us, wemake no scruple of repeating the experiment,and foresee, with certainty, like nourishmentand support. Now this is a process of the mindor thought, of which I would willingly knowthe foundation. It is allowed on all hands thatthere is no known connexion between the sen-

6The word, Power, is here used in a loose and pop-ular sense. The more accurate explication of it wouldgive additional evidence to this argument. See Sect. 7.

70

PART II

sible qualities and the secret powers; and con-sequently, that the mind is not led to form sucha conclusion concerning their constant and reg-ular conjunction, by anything which it knowsof their nature. As to past Experience, it can beallowed to give direct and certain information ofthose precise objects only, and that precise pe-riod of time, which fell under its cognizance:but why this experience should be extended tofuture times, and to other objects, which foraught we know, may be only in appearancesimilar; this is the main question on which Iwould insist. The bread, which I formerly eat,nourished me; that is, a body of such sensiblequalities was, at that time, endued with suchsecret powers: but does it follow, that otherbread must also nourish me at another time,and that like sensible qualities must always beattended with like secret powers? The conse-

71

PART II

quence seems nowise necessary. At least, itmust be acknowledged that there is here a con-sequence drawn by the mind; that there is acertain step taken; a process of thought, and aninference, which wants to be explained. Thesetwo propositions are far from being the same, Ihave found that such an object has always been at-tended with such an effect, and I foresee, that otherobjects, which are, in appearance, similar, will beattended with similar effects. I shall allow, if youplease, that the one proposition may justly beinferred from the other: I know, in fact, that italways is inferred. But if you insist that the in-ference is made by a chain of reasoning, I desireyou to produce that reasoning. The connex-ion between these propositions is not intuitive.There is required a medium, which may enablethe mind to draw such an inference, if indeedit be drawn by reasoning and argument. What

72

PART II

that medium is, I must confess, passes my com-prehension; and it is incumbent on those toproduce it, who assert that it really exists, andis the origin of all our conclusions concerningmatter of fact.

30. This negative argument must certainly,in process of time, become altogether convinc-ing, if many penetrating and able philosophersshall turn their enquiries this way and no onebe ever able to discover any connecting propo-sition or intermediate step, which supports theunderstanding in this conclusion. But as thequestion is yet new, every reader may not trustso far to his own penetration, as to conclude,because an argument escapes his enquiry, thattherefore it does not really exist. For this rea-son it may be requisite to venture upon a moredifficult task; and enumerating all the branches

73

PART II

of human knowledge, endeavour to show thatnone of them can afford such an argument.

All reasonings may be divided into twokinds, namely, demonstrative reasoning, orthat concerning relations of ideas, and moralreasoning, or that concerning matter of fact andexistence. That there are no demonstrative ar-guments in the case seems evident; since it im-plies no contradiction that the course of naturemay change, and that an object, seemingly likethose which we have experienced, may be at-tended with different or contrary effects. May Inot clearly and distinctly conceive that a body,falling from the clouds, and which, in all otherrespects, resembles snow, has yet the taste ofsalt or feeling of fire? Is there any more in-telligible proposition than to affirm, that allthe trees will flourish in December and Jan-

74

PART II

uary, and decay in May and June? Now what-ever is intelligible, and can be distinctly con-ceived, implies no contradiction, and can neverbe proved false by any demonstrative argu-ment or abstract reasoning à priori.

If we be, therefore, engaged by arguments toput trust in past experience, and make it thestandard of our future judgement, these argu-ments must be probable only, or such as re-gard matter of fact and real existence, accord-ing to the division above mentioned. But thatthere is no argument of this kind, must appear,if our explication of that species of reasoningbe admitted as solid and satisfactory. We havesaid that all arguments concerning existenceare founded on the relation of cause and effect;that our knowledge of that relation is derivedentirely from experience; and that all our ex-

75

PART II

perimental conclusions proceed upon the sup-position that the future will be conformable tothe past. To endeavour, therefore, the proofof this last supposition by probable arguments,or arguments regarding existence, must be ev-idently going in a circle, and taking that forgranted, which is the very point in question.

31. In reality, all arguments from experienceare founded on the similarity which we dis-cover among natural objects, and by which weare induced to expect effects similar to thosewhich we have found to follow from such ob-jects. And though none but a fool or madmanwill ever pretend to dispute the authority of ex-perience, or to reject that great guide of humanlife, it may surely be allowed a philosopher tohave so much curiosity at least as to examinethe principle of human nature, which gives this

76

PART II

mighty authority to experience, and makes usdraw advantage from that similarity which na-ture has placed among different objects. Fromcauses which appear similar we expect similareffects. This is the sum of all our experimentalconclusions. Now it seems evident that, if thisconclusion were formed by reason, it would beas perfect at first, and upon one instance, as af-ter ever so long a course of experience. But thecase is far otherwise. Nothing so like as eggs;yet no one, on account of this appearing simi-larity, expects the same taste and relish in all ofthem. It is only after a long course of uniformexperiments in any kind, that we attain a firmreliance and security with regard to a particu-lar event. Now where is that process of reason-ing which, from one instance, draws a conclu-sion, so different from that which it infers froma hundred instances that are nowise different

77

PART II

from that single one? This question I proposeas much for the sake of information, as with anintention of raising difficulties. I cannot find, Icannot imagine any such reasoning. But I keepmy mind still open to instruction, if any onewill vouchsafe to bestow it on me.

32. Should it be said that, from a number ofuniform experiments, we infer a connexion be-tween the sensible qualities and the secret pow-ers; this, I must confess, seems the same diffi-culty, couched in different terms. The questionstill recurs, on what process of argument thisinference is founded? Where is the medium,the interposing ideas, which join propositionsso very wide of each other? It is confessedthat the colour, consistence, and other sensiblequalities of bread appear not, of themselves, tohave any connexion with the secret powers of

78

PART II

nourishment and support. For otherwise wecould infer these secret powers from the firstappearance of these sensible qualities, withoutthe aid of experience; contrary to the sentimentof all philosophers, and contrary to plain mat-ter of fact. Here, then, is our natural state ofignorance with regard to the powers and influ-ence of all objects. How is this remedied by ex-perience? It only shows us a number of uni-form effects, resulting from certain objects, andteaches us that those particular objects, at thatparticular time, were endowed with such pow-ers and forces. When a new object, endowedwith similar sensible qualities, is produced, weexpect similar powers and forces, and look fora like effect. From a body of like colour andconsistence with bread we expect like nourish-ment and support. But this surely is a step orprogress of the mind, which wants to be ex-

79

PART II

plained. When a man says, I have found, inall past instances, such sensible qualities conjoinedwith such secret powers: And when he says, Sim-ilar sensible qualities will always be conjoined withsimilar secret powers, he is not guilty of a tautol-ogy, nor are these propositions in any respectthe same. You say that the one proposition isan inference from the other. But you must con-fess that the inference is not intuitive; neitheris it demonstrative: Of what nature is it, then?To say it is experimental, is begging the ques-tion. For all inferences from experience sup-pose, as their foundation, that the future willresemble the past, and that similar powers willbe conjoined with similar sensible qualities. Ifthere be any suspicion that the course of naturemay change, and that the past may be no rulefor the future, all experience becomes useless,and can give rise to no inference or conclusion.

80

PART II

It is impossible, therefore, that any argumentsfrom experience can prove this resemblance ofthe past to the future; since all these argumentsare founded on the supposition of that resem-blance. Let the course of things be allowedhitherto ever so regular; that alone, withoutsome new argument or inference, proves notthat, for the future, it will continue so. In vaindo you pretend to have learned the nature ofbodies from your past experience. Their secretnature, and consequently all their effects andinfluence, may change, without any change intheir sensible qualities. This happens some-times, and with regard to some objects: Whymay it not happen always, and with regard toall objects? What logic, what process of argu-ment secures you against this supposition? Mypractice, you say, refutes my doubts. But youmistake the purport of my question. As an

81

PART II

agent, I am quite satisfied in the point; but asa philosopher, who has some share of curios-ity, I will not say scepticism, I want to learn thefoundation of this inference. No reading, noenquiry has yet been able to remove my diffi-culty, or give me satisfaction in a matter of suchimportance. Can I do better than propose thedifficulty to the public, even though, perhaps,I have small hopes of obtaining a solution? Weshall at least, by this means, be sensible of ourignorance, if we do not augment our knowl-edge.

33. I must confess that a man is guilty of un-pardonable arrogance who concludes, becausean argument has escaped his own investiga-tion, that therefore it does not really exist. Imust also confess that, though all the learned,for several ages, should have employed them-

82

PART II

selves in fruitless search upon any subject, itmay still, perhaps, be rash to conclude posi-tively that the subject must, therefore, pass allhuman comprehension. Even though we ex-amine all the sources of our knowledge, andconclude them unfit for such a subject, theremay still remain a suspicion, that the enumer-ation is not complete, or the examination notaccurate. But with regard to the present sub-ject, there are some considerations which seemto remove all this accusation of arrogance orsuspicion of mistake.

It is certain that the most ignorant and stupidpeasants–nay infants, nay even brute beasts–improve by experience, and learn the quali-ties of natural objects, by observing the effectswhich result from them. When a child has feltthe sensation of pain from touching the flame

83

PART II

of a candle, he will be careful not to put hishand near any candle; but will expect a sim-ilar effect from a cause which is similar in itssensible qualities and appearance. If you as-sert, therefore, that the understanding of thechild is led into this conclusion by any processof argument or ratiocination, I may justly re-quire you to produce that argument; nor haveyou any pretence to refuse so equitable a de-mand. You cannot say that the argument is ab-struse, and may possibly escape your enquiry;since you confess that it is obvious to the ca-pacity of a mere infant. If you hesitate, there-fore, a moment, or if, after reflection, you pro-duce any intricate or profound argument, you,in a manner, give up the question, and con-fess that it is not reasoning which engages usto suppose the past resembling the future, andto expect similar effects from causes which are,

84

PART II

to appearance, similar. This is the propositionwhich I intended to enforce in the present sec-tion. If I be right, I pretend not to have madeany mighty discovery. And if I be wrong, Imust acknowledge myself to be indeed a verybackward scholar; since I cannot now discoveran argument which, it seems, was perfectly fa-miliar to me long before I was out of my cradle.

85

SECTION V

SCEPTICAL SOLUTION OFTHESE DOUBTS

PART I

34. The passion for philosophy, like that for re-ligion, seems liable to this inconvenience, that,though it aims at the correction of our man-ners, and extirpation of our vices, it may onlyserve, by imprudent management, to foster apredominant inclination, and push the mind,with more determined resolution, towards thatside which already draws too much, by the biasand propensity of the natural temper. It is cer-tain that, while we aspire to the magnanimousfirmness of the philosophic sage, and endeav-our to confine our pleasures altogether withinour own minds, we may, at last, render our phi-losophy like that of Epictetus, and other Sto-ics, only a more refined system of selfishness,and reason ourselves out of all virtue as well

87

PART I

as social enjoyment. While we study with at-tention the vanity of human life, and turn allour thoughts towards the empty and transi-tory nature of riches and honours, we are, per-haps, all the while flattering our natural indo-lence, which, hating the bustle of the world,and drudgery of business, seeks a pretence ofreason to give itself a full and uncontrolled in-dulgence. There is, however, one species ofphilosophy which seems little liable to this in-convenience, and that because it strikes in withno disorderly passion of the human mind, norcan mingle itself with any natural affection orpropensity; and that is the Academic or Scep-tical philosophy. The academics always talk ofdoubt and suspense of judgement, of danger inhasty determinations, of confining to very nar-row bounds the enquiries of the understand-ing, and of renouncing all speculations which

88

PART I

lie not within the limits of common life andpractice. Nothing, therefore, can be more con-trary than such a philosophy to the supine in-dolence of the mind, its rash arrogance, its loftypretensions, and its superstitious credulity. Ev-ery passion is mortified by it, except the love oftruth; and that passion never is, nor can be, car-ried to too high a degree. It is surprising, there-fore, that this philosophy, which, in almost ev-ery instance, must be harmless and innocent,should be the subject of so much groundless re-proach and obloquy. But, perhaps, the very cir-cumstance which renders it so innocent is whatchiefly exposes it to the public hatred and re-sentment. By flattering no irregular passion,it gains few partizans: By opposing so manyvices and follies, it raises to itself abundance ofenemies, who stigmatize it as libertine profane,and irreligious.

89

PART I

Nor need we fear that this philosophy, whileit endeavours to limit our enquiries to com-mon life, should ever undermine the reason-ings of common life, and carry its doubts sofar as to destroy all action, as well as specula-tion. Nature will always maintain her rights,and prevail in the end over any abstract reason-ing whatsoever. Though we should conclude,for instance, as in the foregoing section, that, inall reasonings from experience, there is a steptaken by the mind which is not supported byany argument or process of the understand-ing; there is no danger that these reasonings, onwhich almost all knowledge depends, will everbe affected by such a discovery. If the mindbe not engaged by argument to make this step,it must be induced by some other principle ofequal weight and authority; and that principlewill preserve its influence as long as human na-

90

PART I

ture remains the same. What that principle ismay well be worth the pains of enquiry.

35. Suppose a person, though endowed withthe strongest faculties of reason and reflection,to be brought on a sudden into this world; hewould, indeed, immediately observe a contin-ual succession of objects, and one event follow-ing another; but he would not be able to dis-cover anything farther. He would not, at first,by any reasoning, be able to reach the idea ofcause and effect; since the particular powers,by which all natural operations are performed,never appear to the senses; nor is it reason-able to conclude, merely because one event,in one instance, precedes another, that there-fore the one is the cause, the other the effect.Their conjunction may be arbitrary and casual.There may be no reason to infer the existence

91

PART I

of one from the appearance of the other. Andin a word, such a person, without more experi-ence, could never employ his conjecture or rea-soning concerning any matter of fact, or be as-sured of anything beyond what was immedi-ately present to his memory and senses.

Suppose, again, that he has acquired moreexperience, and has lived so long in the worldas to have observed familiar objects or eventsto be constantly conjoined together; what is theconsequence of this experience? He immedi-ately infers the existence of one object from theappearance of the other. Yet he has not, byall his experience, acquired any idea or knowl-edge of the secret power by which the one ob-ject produces the other; nor is it, by any processof reasoning, he is engaged to draw this infer-ence. But still he finds himself determined to

92

PART I

draw it: And though he should be convincedthat his understanding has no part in the op-eration, he would nevertheless continue in thesame course of thinking. There is some otherprinciple which determines him to form such aconclusion.

36. This principle is Custom or Habit. Forwherever the repetition of any particular actor operation produces a propensity to renewthe same act or operation, without being im-pelled by any reasoning or process of the un-derstanding, we always say, that this propen-sity is the effect of Custom. By employing thatword, we pretend not to have given the ul-timate reason of such a propensity. We onlypoint out a principle of human nature, which isuniversally acknowledged, and which is wellknown by its effects. Perhaps we can push

93

PART I

our enquiries no farther, or pretend to give thecause of this cause; but must rest contentedwith it as the ultimate principle, which we canassign, of all our conclusions from experience.It is sufficient satisfaction, that we can go sofar, without repining at the narrowness of ourfaculties because they will carry us no farther.And it is certain we here advance a very in-telligible proposition at least, if not a true one,when we assert that, after the constant conjunc-tion of two objects–heat and flame, for instance,weight and solidity–we are determined by cus-tom alone to expect the one from the appear-ance of the other. This hypothesis seems eventhe only one which explains the difficulty, whywe draw, from a thousand instances, an infer-ence which we are not able to draw from oneinstance, that is, in no respect, different fromthem. Reason is incapable of any such varia-

94

PART I

tion. The conclusions which it draws from con-sidering one circle are the same which it wouldform upon surveying all the circles in the uni-verse. But no man, having seen only one bodymove after being impelled by another, could in-fer that every other body will move after a likeimpulse. All inferences from experience, there-fore, are effects of custom, not of reasoning7

7Nothing is more useful than for writers, even, onmoral, political, or physical subjects, to distinguish be-tween reason and experience, and to suppose, that thesespecies of argumentation are entirely different fromeach other. The former are taken for the mere resultof our intellectual faculties, which, by considering à pri-ori the nature of things, and examining the effects, thatmust follow from their operation, establish particularprinciples of science and philosophy. The latter are sup-posed to be derived entirely from sense and observa-tion, by which we learn what has actually resulted fromthe operation of particular objects, and are thence able to

95

PART I

The same distinction between reason and ex-perience is maintained in all our deliberationsconcerning the conduct of life; while the expe-rienced statesman, general, physician, or mer-chant is trusted and followed; and the unprac-tised novice, with whatever natural talents en-dowed, neglected and despised. Though it beallowed, that reason may form very plausibleconjectures with regard to the consequences ofsuch a particular conduct in such particular cir-

infer, what will, for the future, result from them. Thus,for instance, the limitations and restraints of civil gov-ernment, and a legal constitution, may be defended, ei-ther from reason, which reflecting on the great frailty andcorruption of human nature, teaches, that no man cansafely be trusted with unlimited authority; or from ex-perience and history, which inform us of the enormousabuses, that ambition, in every age and country, hasbeen found to make of so imprudent a confidence.

96

PART I

cumstances; it is still supposed imperfect, with-out the assistance of experience, which is aloneable to give stability and certainty to the max-ims, derived from study and reflection.

But notwithstanding that this distinction bethus universally received, both in the activespeculative scenes of life, I shall not scruple topronounce, that it is, at bottom, erroneous, atleast, superficial.

If we examine those arguments, which, inany of the sciences above mentioned, are sup-posed to be the mere effects of reasoning andreflection, they will be found to terminate, atlast, in some general principle or conclusion,for which we can assign no reason but obser-vation and experience. The only difference be-tween them and those maxims, which are vul-garly esteemed the result of pure experience,

97

PART I

is, that the former cannot be established with-out some process of thought, and some reflec-tion on what we have observed, in order to dis-tinguish its circumstances, and trace its conse-quences: Whereas in the latter, the experiencedevent is exactly and fully familiar to that whichwe infer as the result of any particular situa-tion. The history of a Tiberius or a Nero makesus dread a like tyranny, were our monarchsfreed from the restraints of laws and senates:But the observation of any fraud or cruelty inprivate life is sufficient, with the aid of a lit-tle thought, to give us the same apprehension;while it serves as an instance of the general cor-ruption of human nature, and shows us thedanger which we must incur by reposing anentire confidence in mankind. In both cases, itis experience which is ultimately the founda-tion of our inference and conclusion.

98

PART I

There is no man so young and unexperi-enced, as not to have formed, from observa-tion, many general and just maxims concern-ing human affairs and the conduct of life; butit must be confessed, that, when a man comesto put these in practice, he will be extremelyliable to error, till time and farther experienceboth enlarge these maxims, and teach him theirproper use and application. In every situ-ation or incident, there are many particularand seemingly minute circumstances, whichthe man of greatest talent is, at first, apt to over-look, though on them the justness of his con-clusions, and consequently the prudence of hisconduct, entirely depend. Not to mention, that,to a young beginner, the general observationsand maxims occur not always on the proper oc-casions, nor can be immediately applied withdue calmness and distinction. The truth is, an

99

PART I

unexperienced reasoner could be no reasonerat all, were he absolutely unexperienced; andwhen we assign that character to any one, wemean it only in a comparative sense, and sup-pose him possessed of experience, in a smallerand more imperfect degree.

Custom, then, is the great guide of humanlife. It is that principle alone which renders ourexperience useful to us, and makes us expect,for the future, a similar train of events withthose which have appeared in the past.

Without the influence of custom, we shouldbe entirely ignorant of every matter of fact be-yond what is immediately present to the mem-ory and senses. We should never know how toadjust means to ends, or to employ our naturalpowers in the production of any effect. Therewould be an end at once of all action, as well as

100

PART I

of the chief part of speculation.

37. But here it may be proper to remark,that though our conclusions from experiencecarry us beyond our memory and senses, andassure us of matters of fact which happened inthe most distant places and most remote ages,yet some fact must always be present to thesenses or memory, from which we may firstproceed in drawing these conclusions. A man,who should find in a desert country the re-mains of pompous buildings, would concludethat the country had, in ancient times, been cul-tivated by civilized inhabitants; but did noth-ing of this nature occur to him, he could neverform such an inference. We learn the eventsof former ages from history; but then we mustperuse the volumes in which this instructionis contained, and thence carry up our infer-

101

PART I

ences from one testimony to another, till wearrive at the eyewitnesses and spectators ofthese distant events. In a word, if we pro-ceed not upon some fact, present to the mem-ory or senses, our reasonings would be merelyhypothetical; and however the particular linksmight be connected with each other, the wholechain of inferences would have nothing to sup-port it, nor could we ever, by its means, arriveat the knowledge of any real existence. If I askwhy you believe any particular matter of fact,which you relate, you must tell me some rea-son; and this reason will be some other fact,connected with it. But as you cannot proceedafter this manner, in infinitum, you must at lastterminate in some fact, which is present to yourmemory or senses; or must allow that your be-lief is entirely without foundation.

102

PART I

38. What, then, is the conclusion of thewhole matter? A simple one; though, it mustbe confessed, pretty remote from the commontheories of philosophy. All belief of matter offact or real existence is derived merely fromsome object, present to the memory or senses,and a customary conjunction between that andsome other object. Or in other words; havingfound, in many instances, that any two kindsof objects–flame and heat, snow and cold–havealways been conjoined together; if flame orsnow be presented anew to the senses, themind is carried by custom to expect heat orcold, and to believe that such a quality does ex-ist, and will discover itself upon a nearer ap-proach. This belief is the necessary result ofplacing the mind in such circumstances. It is anoperation of the soul, when we are so situated,as unavoidable as to feel the passion of love,

103

PART I

when we receive benefits; or hatred, when wemeet with injuries. All these operations are aspecies of natural instincts, which no reasoningor process of the thought and understanding isable either to produce or to prevent.

At this point, it would be very allowablefor us to stop our philosophical researches. Inmost questions we can never make a single stepfarther; and in all questions we must terminatehere at last, after our most restless and curiousenquiries. But still our curiosity will be pardon-able, perhaps commendable, if it carry us on tostill farther researches, and make us examinemore accurately the nature of this belief, and ofthe customary conjunction, whence it is derived.By this means we may meet with some explica-tions and analogies that will give satisfaction;at least to such as love the abstract sciences, and

104

PART I

can be entertained with speculations, which,however accurate, may still retain a degree ofdoubt and uncertainty. As to readers of a dif-ferent taste; the remaining part of this section isnot calculated for them, and the following en-quiries may well be understood, though it beneglected.

105

PART II

39. Nothing is more free than the imagina-tion of man; and though it cannot exceed thatoriginal stock of ideas furnished by the inter-nal and external senses, it has unlimited powerof mixing, compounding, separating, and di-viding these ideas, in all the varieties of fictionand vision. It can feign a train of events, withall the appearance of reality, ascribe to thema particular time and place, conceive them asexistent, and paint them out to itself with ev-ery circumstance, that belongs to any histori-cal fact, which it believes with the greatest cer-tainty. Wherein, therefore, consists the differ-ence between such a fiction and belief? It liesnot merely in any peculiar idea, which is an-nexed to such a conception as commands our

106

PART II

assent, and which is wanting to every knownfiction. For as the mind has authority over allits ideas, it could voluntarily annex this partic-ular idea to any fiction, and consequently beable to believe whatever it pleases; contrary towhat we find by daily experience. We can, inour conception, join the head of a man to thebody of a horse; but it is not in our power tobelieve that such an animal has ever really ex-isted.

It follows, therefore, that the difference be-tween fiction and belief lies in some sentimentor feeling, which is annexed to the latter, not tothe former, and which depends not on the will,nor can be commanded at pleasure. It mustbe excited by nature, like all other sentiments;and must arise from the particular situation, inwhich the mind is placed at any particular junc-

107

PART II

ture. Whenever any object is presented to thememory or senses, it immediately, by the forceof custom, carries the imagination to conceivethat object, which is usually conjoined to it; andthis conception is attended with a feeling orsentiment, different from the loose reveries ofthe fancy. In this consists the whole nature ofbelief. For as there is no matter of fact which webelieve so firmly that we cannot conceive thecontrary, there would be no difference betweenthe conception assented to and that which is re-jected, were it not for some sentiment whichdistinguishes the one from the other. If I seea billiard-ball moving towards another, on asmooth table, I can easily conceive it to stopupon contact. This conception implies no con-tradiction; but still it feels very differently fromthat conception by which I represent to myselfthe impulse and the communication of motion

108

PART II

from one ball to another.

40. Were we to attempt a definition of thissentiment, we should, perhaps, find it a verydifficult, if not an impossible task; in the samemanner as if we should endeavour to define thefeeling of cold or passion of anger, to a crea-ture who never had any experience of thesesentiments. Belief is the true and proper nameof this feeling; and no one is ever at a loss toknow the meaning of that term; because everyman is every moment conscious of the senti-ment represented by it. It may not, however, beimproper to attempt a description of this senti-ment; in hopes we may, by that means, arrive atsome analogies, which may afford a more per-fect explication of it. I say, then, that belief isnothing but a more vivid, lively, forcible, firm,steady conception of an object, than what the

109

PART II

imagination alone is ever able to attain. Thisvariety of terms, which may seem so unphilo-sophical, is intended only to express that actof the mind, which renders realities, or what istaken for such, more present to us than fictions,causes them to weigh more in the thought, andgives them a superior influence on the passionsand imagination. Provided we agree about thething, it is needless to dispute about the terms.The imagination has the command over all itsideas, and can join and mix and vary them, inall the ways possible. It may conceive fictitiousobjects with all the circumstances of place andtime. It may set them, in a manner, before oureyes, in their true colours, just as they mighthave existed. But as it is impossible that thisfaculty of imagination can ever, of itself, reachbelief, it is evident that belief consists not inthe peculiar nature or order of ideas, but in the

110

PART II

manner of their conception, and in their feelingto the mind. I confess, that it is impossible per-fectly to explain this feeling or manner of con-ception. We may make use of words which ex-press something near it. But its true and propername, as we observed before, is belief ; which isa term that every one sufficiently understandsin common life. And in philosophy, we cango no farther than assert, that belief is some-thing felt by the mind, which distinguishes theideas of the judgement from the fictions of theimagination. It gives them more weight and in-fluence; makes them appear of greater impor-tance; enforces them in the mind; and rendersthem the governing principle of our actions. Ihear at present, for instance, a person’s voice,with whom I am acquainted; and the soundcomes as from the next room. This impressionof my senses immediately conveys my thought

111

PART II

to the person, together with all the surround-ing objects. I paint them out to myself as ex-isting at present, with the same qualities andrelations, of which I formerly knew them pos-sessed. These ideas take faster hold of my mindthan ideas of an enchanted castle. They arevery different to the feeling, and have a muchgreater influence of every kind, either to givepleasure or pain, joy or sorrow.

Let us, then, take in the whole compass ofthis doctrine, and allow, that the sentiment ofbelief is nothing but a conception more intenseand steady than what attends the mere fictionsof the imagination, and that this manner of con-ception arises from a customary conjunction ofthe object with something present to the mem-ory or senses: I believe that it will not be dif-ficult, upon these suppositions, to find other

112

PART II

operations of the mind analogous to it, andto trace up these phenomena to principles stillmore general.

41. We have already observed that naturehas established connexions among particularideas, and that no sooner one idea occurs toour thoughts than it introduces its correlative,and carries our attention towards it, by a gen-tle and insensible movement. These princi-ples of connexion or association we have re-duced to three, namely, Resemblance, Contigu-ity and Causation; which are the only bondsthat unite our thoughts together, and beget thatregular train of reflection or discourse, which,in a greater or less degree, takes place amongall mankind. Now here arises a question, onwhich the solution of the present difficulty willdepend. Does it happen, in all these relations,

113

PART II

that, when one of the objects is presented to thesenses or memory, the mind is not only car-ried to the conception of the correlative, butreaches a steadier and stronger conception ofit than what otherwise it would have been ableto attain? This seems to be the case with thatbelief which arises from the relation of causeand effect. And if the case be the same withthe other relations or principles of associations,this may be established as a general law, whichtakes place in all the operations of the mind.

We may, therefore, observe, as the first exper-iment to our present purpose, that, upon theappearance of the picture of an absent friend,our idea of him is evidently enlivened by theresemblance, and that every passion, which thatidea occasions, whether of joy or sorrow, ac-quires new force and vigour. In producing

114

PART II

this effect, there concur both a relation and apresent impression. Where the picture bearshim no resemblance, at least was not intendedfor him, it never so much as conveys ourthought to him: And where it is absent, as wellas the person, though the mind may pass fromthe thought of the one to that of the other, itfeels its idea to be rather weakened than en-livened by that transition. We take a pleasurein viewing the picture of a friend, when it isset before us; but when it is removed, ratherchoose to consider him directly than by reflec-tion in an image, which is equally distant andobscure.

The ceremonies of the Roman Catholic re-ligion may be considered as instances of thesame nature. The devotees of that superstitionusually plead in excuse for the mummeries,

115

PART II

with which they are upbraided, that they feelthe good effect of those external motions, andpostures, and actions, in enlivening their devo-tion and quickening their fervour, which other-wise would decay, if directed entirely to distantand immaterial objects. We shadow out the ob-jects of our faith, say they, in sensible types andimages, and render them more present to us bythe immediate presence of these types, than itis possible for us to do merely by an intellec-tual view and contemplation. Sensible objectshave always a greater influence on the fancythan any other; and this influence they read-ily convey to those ideas to which they are re-lated, and which they resemble. I shall onlyinfer from these practices, and this reasoning,that the effect of resemblance in enlivening theideas is very common; and as in every case a re-semblance and a present impression must con-

116

PART II

cur, we are abundantly supplied with experi-ments to prove the reality of the foregoing prin-ciple.

42. We may add force to these experimentsby others of a different kind, in considering theeffects of contiguity as well as of resemblance. Itis certain that distance diminishes the force ofevery idea, and that, upon our approach to anyobject; though it does not discover itself to oursenses; it operates upon the mind with an influ-ence, which imitates an immediate impression.The thinking on any object readily transportsthe mind to what is contiguous; but it is onlythe actual presence of an object, that transportsit with a superior vivacity. When I am a fewmiles from home, whatever relates to it touchesme more nearly than when I am two hundredleagues distant; though even at that distance

117

PART II

the reflecting on any thing in the neighbour-hood of my friends or family naturally pro-duces an idea of them. But as in this latter case,both the objects of the mind are ideas; notwith-standing there is an easy transition betweenthem; that transition alone is not able to givea superior vivacity to any of the ideas, for wantof some immediate impression8

8‘Naturane nobis, inquit, datum dicam, an errorequodam, ut, cum ea loca videamus, in quibus memo-ria dignos viros acceperimus multum esse versatos,magis moveamur, quam siquando eorum ipsorum autfacta audiamus aut scriptum aliquod legamus? Velutego nunc moveor. Venit enim mihi Plato in mentem,quera accepimus primum hic disputare solitum: cuiusetiam illi hortuli propinqui non memoriam solum mihiafferunt, sed ipsum videntur in conspectu meo hicponere. Hic Speusippus, hic Xenocrates, hic eius auditorPolemo; cuius ipsa illa sessio fuit, quam videmus. Equi-dem etiam curiam nostram, Hostiliam dico, non hanc

118

PART II

43. No one can doubt but causation has thesame influence as the other two relations of re-semblance and contiguity. Superstitious peo-ple are fond of the reliques of saints and holymen, for the same reason, that they seek af-ter types or images, in order to enliven theirdevotion, and give them a more intimate andstrong conception of those exemplary lives,which they desire to imitate. Now it is evident,that one of the best reliques, which a devoteecould procure, would be the handywork of asaint; and if his cloaths and furniture are everto be considered in this light, it is because they

novam, quae mihi minor esse videtur postquam estmaior, solebam intuens, Scipionem, Catonem, Laelium,nostrum vero in primis avum cogitare. Tanta vis admo-nitionis est in locis; ut non sine causa ex his memoriaededucta sit disciplina.’Cicero de Finibus. Lib. v.

119

PART II

were once at his disposal, and were moved andaffected by him; in which respect they are tobe considered as imperfect effects, and as con-nected with him by a shorter chain of conse-quences than any of those, by which we learnthe reality of his existence.

Suppose, that the son of a friend, who hadbeen long dead or absent, were presented tous; it is evident, that this object would in-stantly revive its correlative idea, and recal toour thoughts all past intimacies and familiar-ities, in more lively colours than they wouldotherwise have appeared to us. This is anotherphaenomenon, which seems to prove the prin-ciple above mentioned.

44. We may observe, that, in these phaenom-ena, the belief of the correlative object is al-ways presupposed; without which the relation

120

PART II

could have no effect. The influence of the pic-ture supposes, that we believe our friend to haveonce existed. Contiguity to home can never ex-cite our ideas of home, unless we believe thatit really exists. Now I assert, that this belief,where it reaches beyond the memory or senses,is of a similar nature, and arises from simi-lar causes, with the transition of thought andvivacity of conception here explained. WhenI throw a piece of dry wood into a fire, mymind is immediately carried to conceive, thatit augments, not extinguishes the flame. Thistransition of thought from the cause to theeffect proceeds not from reason. It derivesits origin altogether from custom and experi-ence. And as it first begins from an object,present to the senses, it renders the idea orconception of flame more strong and livelythan any loose, floating reverie of the imag-

121

PART II

ination. That idea arises immediately. Thethought moves instantly towards it, and con-veys to it all that force of conception, whichis derived from the impression present to thesenses. When a sword is levelled at my breast,does not the idea of wound and pain strike memore strongly, than when a glass of wine is pre-sented to me, even though by accident this ideashould occur after the appearance of the latterobject? But what is there in this whole matterto cause such a strong conception, except onlya present object and a customary transition tothe idea of another object, which we have beenaccustomed to conjoin with the former? Thisis the whole operation of the mind, in all ourconclusions concerning matter of fact and exis-tence; and it is a satisfaction to find some analo-gies, by which it may be explained. The transi-tion from a present object does in all cases give

122

PART II

strength and solidity to the related idea.

Here, then, is a kind of pre-established har-mony between the course of nature and thesuccession of our ideas; and though the powersand forces, by which the former is governed, bewholly unknown to us; yet our thoughts andconceptions have still, we find, gone on in thesame train with the other works of nature. Cus-tom is that principle, by which this correspon-dence has been effected; so necessary to thesubsistence of our species, and the regulationof our conduct, in every circumstance and oc-currence of human life. Had not the presenceof an object, instantly excited the idea of thoseobjects, commonly conjoined with it, all ourknowledge must have been limited to the nar-row sphere of our memory and senses; and weshould never have been able to adjust means

123

PART II

to ends, or employ our natural powers, eitherto the producing of good, or avoiding of evil.Those, who delight in the discovery and con-templation of final causes, have here ample sub-ject to employ their wonder and admiration.

45. I shall add, for a further confirmationof the foregoing theory, that, as this operationof the mind, by which we infer like effectsfrom like causes, and vice versa, is so essen-tial to the subsistence of all human creatures,it is not probable, that it could be trusted tothe fallacious deductions of our reason, whichis slow in its operations; appears not, in anydegree, during the first years of infancy; andat best is, in every age and period of humanlife, extremely liable to error and mistake. Itis more conformable to the ordinary wisdomof nature to secure so necessary an act of the

124

PART II

mind, by some instinct or mechanical tendency,which may be infallible in its operations, maydiscover itself at the first appearance of lifeand thought, and may be independent of allthe laboured deductions of the understanding.As nature has taught us the use of our limbs,without giving us the knowledge of the mus-cles and nerves, by which they are actuated;so has she implanted in us an instinct, whichcarries forward the thought in a correspon-dent course to that which she has establishedamong external objects; though we are igno-rant of those powers and forces, on which thisregular course and succession of objects totallydepends.

125

SECTION VI

OF PROBABILITY9

9Mr. Locke divides all arguments into demonstra-tive and probable. In this view, we must say, that it isonly probable all men must die, or that the sun will riseto-morrow. But to conform our language more to com-mon use, we ought to divide arguments into demonstra-tions, proofs, and probabilities. By proofs meaning such

46. Though there be no such thing as Chancein the world; our ignorance of the real cause ofany event has the same influence on the under-standing, and begets a like species of belief oropinion.

There is certainly a probability, which arisesfrom a superiority of chances on any side; andaccording as this superiority encreases, andsurpasses the opposite chances, the probabilityreceives a proportionable encrease, and begetsstill a higher degree of belief or assent to thatside, in which we discover the superiority. Ifa dye were marked with one figure or num-ber of spots on four sides, and with anotherfigure or number of spots on the two remain-ing sides, it would be more probable, that the

arguments from experience as leave no room for doubtor opposition.

127

former would turn up than the latter; though,if it had a thousand sides marked in the samemanner, and only one side different, the prob-ability would be much higher, and our beliefor expectation of the event more steady and se-cure. This process of the thought or reasoningmay seem trivial and obvious; but to those whoconsider it more narrowly, it may, perhaps, af-ford matter for curious speculation.

It seems evident, that, when the mind looksforward to discover the event, which may re-sult from the throw of such a dye, it consid-ers the turning up of each particular side asalike probable; and this is the very nature ofchance, to render all the particular events, com-prehended in it, entirely equal. But finding agreater number of sides concur in the one eventthan in the other, the mind is carried more fre-

128

quently to that event, and meets it oftener, inrevolving the various possibilities or chances,on which the ultimate result depends. Thisconcurrence of several views in one particularevent begets immediately, by an inexplicablecontrivance of nature, the sentiment of belief,and gives that event the advantage over its an-tagonist, which is supported by a smaller num-ber of views, and recurs less frequently to themind. If we allow, that belief is nothing buta firmer and stronger conception of an objectthan what attends the mere fictions of the imag-ination, this operation may, perhaps, in somemeasure, be accounted for. The concurrenceof these several views or glimpses imprints theidea more strongly on the imagination; gives itsuperior force and vigour; renders its influenceon the passions and affections more sensible;and in a word, begets that reliance or security,

129

which constitutes the nature of belief and opin-ion.

47. The case is the same with the probabil-ity of causes, as with that of chance. Thereare some causes, which are entirely uniformand constant in producing a particular effect;and no instance has ever yet been found of anyfailure or irregularity in their operation. Firehas always burned, and water suffocated ev-ery human creature: The production of mo-tion by impulse and gravity is an universallaw, which has hitherto admitted of no excep-tion. But there are other causes, which havebeen found more irregular and uncertain; norhas rhubarb always proved a purge, or opiuma soporific to every one, who has taken thesemedicines. It is true, when any cause fails ofproducing its usual effect, philosophers ascribe

130

not this to any irregularity in nature; but sup-pose, that some secret causes, in the particu-lar structure of parts, have prevented the op-eration. Our reasonings, however, and conclu-sions concerning the event are the same as ifthis principle had no place. Being determinedby custom to transfer the past to the future, inall our inferences; where the past has been en-tirely regular and uniform, we expect the eventwith the greatest assurance, and leave no roomfor any contrary supposition. But where dif-ferent effects have been found to follow fromcauses, which are to appearance exactly similar,all these various effects must occur to the mindin transferring the past to the future, and enterinto our consideration, when we determine theprobability of the event. Though we give thepreference to that which has been found mostusual, and believe that this effect will exist, we

131

must not overlook the other effects, but mustassign to each of them a particular weight andauthority, in proportion as we have found itto be more or less frequent. It is more prob-able, in almost every country of Europe, thatthere will be frost sometime in January, thanthat the weather will continue open through-out that whole month; though this probabilityvaries according to the different climates, andapproaches to a certainty in the more northernkingdoms. Here then it seems evident, that,when we transfer the past to the future, in or-der to determine the effect, which will resultfrom any cause, we transfer all the differentevents, in the same proportion as they have ap-peared in the past, and conceive one to haveexisted a hundred times, for instance, anotherten times, and another once. As a great num-ber of views do here concur in one event, they

132

fortify and confirm it to the imagination, begetthat sentiment which we call belief, and give itsobject the preference above the contrary event,which is not supported by an equal number ofexperiments, and recurs not so frequently tothe thought in transferring the past to the fu-ture. Let any one try to account for this opera-tion of the mind upon any of the received sys-tems of philosophy, and he will be sensible ofthe difficulty. For my part, I shall think it suf-ficient, if the present hints excite the curiosityof philosophers, and make them sensible howdefective all common theories are in treating ofsuch curious and such sublime subjects.

133

SECTION VII

OF THE IDEA OF NECESSARYCONNEXION

PART I

48. The great advantage of the mathematicalsciences above the moral consists in this, thatthe ideas of the former, being sensible, are al-ways clear and determinate, the smallest dis-tinction between them is immediately percep-tible, and the same terms are still expressiveof the same ideas, without ambiguity or vari-ation. An oval is never mistaken for a circle,nor an hyperbola for an ellipsis. The isosce-les and scalenum are distinguished by bound-aries more exact than vice and virtue, right andwrong. If any term be defined in geometry, themind readily, of itself, substitutes, on all occa-sions, the definition for the term defined: Oreven when no definition is employed, the ob-ject itself may be presented to the senses, and

135

PART I

by that means be steadily and clearly appre-hended. But the finer sentiments of the mind,the operations of the understanding, the var-ious agitations of the passions, though reallyin themselves distinct, easily escape us, whensurveyed by reflection; nor is it in our powerto recal the original object, as often as we haveoccasion to contemplate it. Ambiguity, by thismeans, is gradually introduced into our rea-sonings: Similar objects are readily taken to bethe same: And the conclusion becomes at lastvery wide of the premises.

One may safely, however, affirm, that, if weconsider these sciences in a proper light, theiradvantages and disadvantages nearly compen-sate each other, and reduce both of them to astate of equality. If the mind, with greater facil-ity, retains the ideas of geometry clear and de-

136

PART I

terminate, it must carry on a much longer andmore intricate chain of reasoning, and compareideas much wider of each other, in order toreach the abstruser truths of that science. Andif moral ideas are apt, without extreme care,to fall into obscurity and confusion, the infer-ences are always much shorter in these disqui-sitions, and the intermediate steps, which leadto the conclusion, much fewer than in the sci-ences which treat of quantity and number. Inreality, there is scarcely a proposition in Euclidso simple, as not to consist of more parts, thanare to be found in any moral reasoning whichruns not into chimera and conceit. Where wetrace the principles of the human mind througha few steps, we may be very well satisfiedwith our progress; considering how soon na-ture throws a bar to all our enquiries concern-ing causes, and reduces us to an acknowledg-

137

PART I

ment of our ignorance. The chief obstacle,therefore, to our improvement in the moral ormetaphysical sciences is the obscurity of theideas, and ambiguity of the terms. The princi-pal difficulty in the mathematics is the length ofinferences and compass of thought, requisite tothe forming of any conclusion. And, perhaps,our progress in natural philosophy is chieflyretarded by the want of proper experimentsand phaenomena, which are often discoveredby chance, and cannot always be found, whenrequisite, even by the most diligent and pru-dent enquiry. As moral philosophy seems hith-erto to have received less improvement thaneither geometry or physics, we may conclude,that, if there be any difference in this respectamong these sciences, the difficulties, whichobstruct the progress of the former, require su-perior care and capacity to be surmounted.

138

PART I

49. There are no ideas, which occur inmetaphysics, more obscure and uncertain, thanthose of power, force, energy or necessary connex-ion, of which it is every moment necessary forus to treat in all our disquisitions. We shall,therefore, endeavour, in this section, to fix, ifpossible, the precise meaning of these terms,and thereby remove some part of that obscu-rity, which is so much complained of in thisspecies of philosophy.

It seems a proposition, which will not admitof much dispute, that all our ideas are noth-ing but copies of our impressions, or, in otherwords, that it is impossible for us to think ofany thing, which we have not antecedently felt,either by our external or internal senses. Ihave endeavoured10 to explain and prove this

10Section II.

139

PART I

proposition, and have expressed my hopes,that, by a proper application of it, men mayreach a greater clearness and precision in philo-sophical reasonings, than what they have hith-erto been able to attain. Complex ideas may,perhaps, be well known by definition, which isnothing but an enumeration of those parts orsimple ideas, that compose them. But when wehave pushed up definitions to the most simpleideas, and find still some ambiguity and ob-scurity; what resource are we then possessedof? By what invention can we throw light uponthese ideas, and render them altogether preciseand determinate to our intellectual view? Pro-duce the impressions or original sentiments,from which the ideas are copied. These impres-sions are all strong and sensible. They admitnot of ambiguity. They are not only placed ina full light themselves, but may throw light on

140

PART I

their correspondent ideas, which lie in obscu-rity. And by this means, we may, perhaps, at-tain a new microscope or species of optics, bywhich, in the moral sciences, the most minute,and most simple ideas may be so enlarged asto fall readily under our apprehension, and beequally known with the grossest and most sen-sible ideas, that can be the object of our enquiry.

50. To be fully acquainted, therefore, withthe idea of power or necessary connexion, letus examine its impression; and in order to findthe impression with greater certainty, let ussearch for it in all the sources, from which itmay possibly be derived.

When we look about us towards external ob-jects, and consider the operation of causes, weare never able, in a single instance, to discoverany power or necessary connexion; any quality,

141

PART I

which binds the effect to the cause, and ren-ders the one an infallible consequence of theother. We only find, that the one does actually,in fact, follow the other. The impulse of onebilliard-ball is attended with motion in the sec-ond. This is the whole that appears to the out-ward senses. The mind feels no sentiment or in-ward impression from this succession of objects:Consequently, there is not, in any single, par-ticular instance of cause and effect, any thingwhich can suggest the idea of power or neces-sary connexion.

From the first appearance of an object, wenever can conjecture what effect will resultfrom it. But were the power or energy of anycause discoverable by the mind, we could fore-see the effect, even without experience; andmight, at first, pronounce with certainty con-

142

PART I

cerning it, by mere dint of thought and reason-ing.

In reality, there is no part of matter, thatdoes ever, by its sensible qualities, discover anypower or energy, or give us ground to imag-ine, that it could produce any thing, or be fol-lowed by any other object, which we could de-nominate its effect. Solidity, extension, motion;these qualities are all complete in themselves,and never point out any other event which mayresult from them. The scenes of the universeare continually shifting, and one object followsanother in an uninterrupted succession; but thepower of force, which actuates the whole ma-chine, is entirely concealed from us, and neverdiscovers itself in any of the sensible qualitiesof body. We know, that, in fact, heat is a con-stant attendant of flame; but what is the con-

143

PART I

nexion between them, we have no room somuch as to conjecture or imagine. It is impos-sible, therefore, that the idea of power can bederived from the contemplation of bodies, insingle instances of their operation; because nobodies ever discover any power, which can bethe original of this idea.11

51. Since, therefore, external objects as theyappear to the senses, give us no idea of poweror necessary connexion, by their operation inparticular instances, let us see, whether this

11Mr. Locke, in his chapter of power, says that, find-ing from experience, that there are several new produc-tions in nature, and concluding that there must some-where be a power capable of producing them, we arriveat last by this reasoning at the idea of power. But no rea-soning can ever give us a new, original, simple idea; asthis philosopher himself confesses. This, therefore, cannever be the origin of that idea.

144

PART I

idea be derived from reflection on the opera-tions of our own minds, and be copied fromany internal impression. It may be said, that weare every moment conscious of internal power;while we feel, that, by the simple command ofour will, we can move the organs of our body,or direct the faculties of our mind. An act of vo-lition produces motion in our limbs, or raisesa new idea in our imagination. This influenceof the will we know by consciousness. Hencewe acquire the idea of power or energy; andare certain, that we ourselves and all other in-telligent beings are possessed of power. Thisidea, then, is an idea of reflection, since it arisesfrom reflecting on the operations of our ownmind, and on the command which is exercisedby will, both over the organs of the body andfaculties of the soul.

145

PART I

52. We shall proceed to examine this preten-sion; and first with regard to the influence ofvolition over the organs of the body. This influ-ence, we may observe, is a fact, which, like allother natural events, can be known only by ex-perience, and can never be foreseen from anyapparent energy or power in the cause, whichconnects it with the effect, and renders the onean infallible consequence of the other. The mo-tion of our body follows upon the commandof our will. Of this we are every moment con-scious. But the means, by which this is effected;the energy, by which the will performs so ex-traordinary an operation; of this we are so farfrom being immediately conscious, that it mustfor ever escape our most diligent enquiry.

For first; is there any principle in all naturemore mysterious than the union of soul with

146

PART I

body; by which a supposed spiritual substanceacquires such an influence over a material one,that the most refined thought is able to actu-ate the grossest matter? Were we empowered,by a secret wish, to remove mountains, or con-trol the planets in their orbit; this extensive au-thority would not be more extraordinary, normore beyond our comprehension. But if byconsciousness we perceived any power or en-ergy in the will, we must know this power; wemust know its connexion with the effect; wemust know the secret union of soul and body,and the nature of both these substances; bywhich the one is able to operate, in so manyinstances, upon the other.

Secondly, We are not able to move all the or-gans of the body with a like authority; thoughwe cannot assign any reason besides experi-

147

PART I

ence, for so remarkable a difference betweenone and the other. Why has the will an influ-ence over the tongue and fingers, not over theheart or liver? This question would never em-barrass us, were we conscious of a power in theformer case, not in the latter. We should thenperceive, independent of experience, why theauthority of will over the organs of the bodyis circumscribed within such particular limits.Being in that case fully acquainted with thepower or force, by which it operates, we shouldalso know, why its influence reaches preciselyto such boundaries, and no farther.

A man, suddenly struck with palsy in the legor arm, or who had newly lost those members,frequently endeavours, at first to move them,and employ them in their usual offices. Herehe is as much conscious of power to command

148

PART I

such limbs, as a man in perfect health is con-scious of power to actuate any member whichremains in its natural state and condition. Butconsciousness never deceives. Consequently,neither in the one case nor in the other, are weever conscious of any power. We learn the in-fluence of our will from experience alone. Andexperience only teaches us, how one event con-stantly follows another; without instructing usin the secret connexion, which binds them to-gether, and renders them inseparable.

Thirdly, We learn from anatomy, that the im-mediate object of power in voluntary motion,is not the member itself which is moved, butcertain muscles, and nerves, and animal spir-its, and, perhaps, something still more minuteand more unknown, through which the mo-tion is successively propagated, ere it reach the

149

PART I

member itself whose motion is the immediateobject of volition. Can there be a more cer-tain proof, that the power, by which this wholeoperation is performed, so far from being di-rectly and fully known by an inward sentimentor consciousness, is, to the last degree mysteri-ous and unintelligible? Here the mind wills acertain event: Immediately another event, un-known to ourselves, and totally different fromthe one intended, is produced: This event pro-duces another, equally unknown: Till at last,through a long succession, the desired event isproduced. But if the original power were felt, itmust be known: Were it known, its effect alsomust be known; since all power is relative toits effect. And vice versa, if the effect be notknown, the power cannot be known nor felt.How indeed can we be conscious of a power tomove our limbs, when we have no such power;

150

PART I

but only that to move certain animal spirits,which, though they produce at last the motionof our limbs, yet operate in such a manner as iswholly beyond our comprehension?

We may, therefore, conclude from the whole,I hope, without any temerity, though with as-surance; that our idea of power is not copiedfrom any sentiment or consciousness of powerwithin ourselves, when we give rise to animalmotion, or apply our limbs to their proper useand office. That their motion follows the com-mand of the will is a matter of common expe-rience, like other natural events: But the poweror energy by which this is effected, like that inother natural events, is unknown and incon-ceivable.12

12It may be pretended, that the resistance which wemeet with in bodies, obliging us frequently to exert our

151

PART I

53. Shall we then assert, that we are con-scious of a power or energy in our own minds,

force, and call up all our power, this gives us the idea offorce and power. It is this nisus, or strong endeavour, ofwhich we are conscious, that is the original impressionfrom which this idea is copied. But, first, we attributepower to a vast number of objects, where we never cansuppose this resistance or exertion of force to take place;to the Supreme Being, who never meets with any resis-tance; to the mind in its command over its ideas andlimbs, in common thinking and motion, where the ef-fect follows immediately upon the will, without any ex-ertion or summoning up of force; to inanimate matter,which is not capable of this sentiment. Secondly, Thissentiment of an endeavour to overcome resistance hasno 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 accurateprecise idea of power, enters very much into that vul-gar, inaccurate idea, which is formed of it.

152

PART I

when, by an act or command of our will, weraise up a new idea, fix the mind to the con-templation of it, turn it on all sides, and at lastdismiss it for some other idea, when we thinkthat we have surveyed it with sufficient accu-racy? I believe the same arguments will prove,that even this command of the will gives us noreal idea of force or energy.

First, It must be allowed, that, when weknow a power, we know that very circum-stance in the cause, by which it is enabled toproduce the effect: For these are supposed tobe synonimous. We must, therefore, know boththe cause and effect, and the relation betweenthem. But do we pretend to be acquainted withthe nature of the human soul and the nature ofan idea, or the aptitude of the one to producethe other? This is a real creation; a produc-

153

PART I

tion of something out of nothing: Which im-plies a power so great, that it may seem, at firstsight, beyond the reach of any being, less thaninfinite. At least it must be owned, that sucha power is not felt, nor known, nor even con-ceivable by the mind. We only feel the event,namely, the existence of an idea, consequentto a command of the will: But the manner, inwhich this operation is performed, the powerby which it is produced, is entirely beyond ourcomprehension.

Secondly, The command of the mind over it-self is limited, as well as its command overthe body; and these limits are not knownby reason, or any acquaintance with the na-ture of cause and effect, but only by experi-ence and observation, as in all other naturalevents and in the operation of external objects.

154

PART I

Our authority over our sentiments and pas-sions is much weaker than that over our ideas;and even the latter authority is circumscribedwithin very narrow boundaries. Will any onepretend to assign the ultimate reason of theseboundaries, or show why the power is deficientin one case, not in another.

Thirdly, This self-command is very differ-ent at different times. A man in health pos-sesses more of it than one languishing withsickness. We are more master of our thoughtsin the morning than in the evening: Fasting,than after a full meal. Can we give any reasonfor these variations, except experience? Wherethen is the power, of which we pretend to beconscious? Is there not here, either in a spiri-tual or material substance, or both, some secretmechanism or structure of parts, upon which

155

PART I

the effect depends, and which, being entirelyunknown to us, renders the power or energy ofthe will equally unknown and incomprehensi-ble?

Volition is surely an act of the mind, withwhich we are sufficiently acquainted. Reflectupon it. Consider it on all sides. Do you findanything in it like this creative power, by whichit raises from nothing a new idea, and witha kind of Fiat, imitates the omnipotence of itsMaker, if I may be allowed so to speak, whocalled forth into existence all the various scenesof nature? So far from being conscious of thisenergy in the will, it requires as certain experi-ence as that of which we are possessed, to con-vince us that such extraordinary effects do everresult from a simple act of volition.

54. The generality of mankind never find

156

PART I

any difficulty in accounting for the more com-mon and familiar operations of nature–suchas the descent of heavy bodies, the growth ofplants, the generation of animals, or the nour-ishment of bodies by food: But suppose that,in all these cases, they perceive the very forceor energy of the cause, by which it is connectedwith its effect, and is for ever infallible in itsoperation. They acquire, by long habit, sucha turn of mind, that, upon the appearance ofthe cause, they immediately expect with assur-ance its usual attendant, and hardly conceive itpossible that any other event could result fromit. It is only on the discovery of extraordinaryphaenomena, such as earthquakes, pestilence,and prodigies of any kind, that they find them-selves at a loss to assign a proper cause, and toexplain the manner in which the effect is pro-duced by it. It is usual for men, in such diffi-

157

PART I

culties, to have recourse to some invisible in-telligent principle13 as the immediate cause ofthat event which surprises them, and which,they think, cannot be accounted for from thecommon powers of nature. But philosophers,who carry their scrutiny a little farther, imme-diately perceive that, even in the most familiarevents, the energy of the cause is as unintelli-gible as in the most unusual, and that we onlylearn by experience the frequent Conjunction ofobjects, without being ever able to comprehendanything like Connexion between them.

55. Here, then, many philosophers thinkthemselves obliged by reason to have recourse,on all occasions, to the same principle, whichthe vulgar never appeal to but in cases that ap-pear miraculous and supernatural. They ac-

13Greek: theoc apo maechanaec.

158

PART I

knowledge mind and intelligence to be, notonly the ultimate and original cause of allthings, but the immediate and sole cause of ev-ery event which appears in nature. They pre-tend that those objects which are commonlydenominated causes, are in reality nothing butoccasions; and that the true and direct princi-ple of every effect is not any power or forcein nature, but a volition of the Supreme Being,who wills that such particular objects shouldfor ever be conjoined with each other. Insteadof saying that one billiard-ball moves anotherby a force which it has derived from the au-thor of nature, it is the Deity himself, they say,who, by a particular volition, moves the sec-ond ball, being determined to this operationby the impulse of the first ball, in consequenceof those general laws which he has laid downto himself in the government of the universe.

159

PART I

But philosophers advancing still in their in-quiries, discover that, as we are totally igno-rant of the power on which depends the mu-tual operation of bodies, we are no less igno-rant of that power on which depends the op-eration of mind on body, or of body on mind;nor are we able, either from our senses or con-sciousness, to assign the ultimate principle inone case more than in the other. The same ig-norance, therefore, reduces them to the sameconclusion. They assert that the Deity is the im-mediate cause of the union between soul andbody; and that they are not the organs of sense,which, being agitated by external objects, pro-duce sensations in the mind; but that it is aparticular volition of our omnipotent Maker,which excites such a sensation, in consequenceof such a motion in the organ. In like manner,it is not any energy in the will that produces

160

PART I

local motion in our members: It is God him-self, who is pleased to second our will, in itselfimpotent, and to command that motion whichwe erroneously attribute to our own power andefficacy. Nor do philosophers stop at this con-clusion. They sometimes extend the same in-ference to the mind itself, in its internal op-erations. Our mental vision or conception ofideas is nothing but a revelation made to usby our Maker. When we voluntarily turn ourthoughts to any object, and raise up its imagein the fancy, it is not the will which creates thatidea: It is the universal Creator, who discoversit to the mind, and renders it present to us.

56. Thus, according to these philosophers,every thing is full of God. Not content with theprinciple, that nothing exists but by his will,that nothing possesses any power but by his

161

PART I

concession: They rob nature, and all created be-ings, of every power, in order to render theirdependence on the Deity still more sensibleand immediate. They consider not that, by thistheory, they diminish, instead of magnifying,the grandeur of those attributes, which they af-fect so much to celebrate. It argues surely morepower in the Deity to delegate a certain degreeof power to inferior creatures than to produceevery thing by his own immediate volition. Itargues more wisdom to contrive at first the fab-ric of the world with such perfect foresight that,of itself, and by its proper operation, it mayserve all the purposes of providence, than ifthe great Creator were obliged every momentto adjust its parts, and animate by his breath allthe wheels of that stupendous machine.

But if we would have a more philosophical

162

PART I

confutation of this theory, perhaps the two fol-lowing reflections may suffice.

57. First, it seems to me that this theory of theuniversal energy and operation of the SupremeBeing is too bold ever to carry conviction withit to a man, sufficiently apprized of the weak-ness of human reason, and the narrow lim-its to which it is confined in all its operations.Though the chain of arguments which conductto it were ever so logical, there must arise astrong suspicion, if not an absolute assurance,that it has carried us quite beyond the reach ofour faculties, when it leads to conclusions soextraordinary, and so remote from common lifeand experience. We are got into fairy land, longere we have reached the last steps of our the-ory; and there we have no reason to trust ourcommon methods of argument, or to think that

163

PART I

our usual analogies and probabilities have anyauthority. Our line is too short to fathom suchimmense abysses. And however we may flat-ter ourselves that we are guided, in every stepwhich we take, by a kind of verisimilitude andexperience, we may be assured that this fan-cied experience has no authority when we thusapply it to subjects that lie entirely out of thesphere of experience. But on this we shall haveoccasion to touch afterwards14

Secondly, I cannot perceive any force in thearguments on which this theory is founded. Weare ignorant, it is true, of the manner in whichbodies operate on each other: Their force or en-ergy is entirely incomprehensible: But are wenot equally ignorant of the manner or force bywhich a mind, even the supreme mind, op-

14Section XII.

164

PART I

erates either on itself or on body? Whence,I beseech you, do we acquire any idea of it?We have no sentiment or consciousness of thispower in ourselves. We have no idea of theSupreme Being but what we learn from reflec-tion on our own faculties. Were our ignorance,therefore, a good reason for rejecting any thing,we should be led into that principle of denyingall energy in the Supreme Being as much as inthe grossest matter. We surely comprehend aslittle the operations of one as of the other. Isit more difficult to conceive that motion mayarise from impulse than that it may arise fromvolition? All we know is our profound igno-rance in both case15

15I need not examine at length the vis inertiae whichis so much talked of in the new philosophy, and which isascribed to matter. We find by experience, that a body at

165

rest or in motion continues for ever in its present state,till put from it by some new cause; and that a body im-pelled takes as much motion from the impelling body asit acquires itself. These are facts. When we call this a visinertiae, we only mark these facts, without pretending tohave any idea of the inert power; in the same manner as,when we talk of gravity, we mean certain effects, with-out comprehending that active power. It was never themeaning of Sir Isaac Newton to rob second causes of allforce or energy; though some of his followers have en-deavoured to establish that theory upon his authority.On the contrary, that great philosopher had recourse toan etherial active fluid to explain his universal attrac-tion; though he was so cautious and modest as to al-low, that it was a mere hypothesis, not to be insisted on,without more experiments. I must confess, that there issomething in the fate of opinions a little extraordinary.Descartes insinuated that doctrine of the universal andsole efficacy of the Deity, without insisting on it. Male-branche and other Cartesians made it the foundation ofall their philosophy. It had, however, no authority inEngland. Locke, Clarke and Cudworth, never so much as

166

PART II

PART II

58. But to hasten to a conclusion of this argu-ment, which is already drawn out to too greata length: We have sought in vain for an idea ofpower or necessary connexion in all the sourcesfrom which we could suppose it to be derived.It appears that, in single instances of the oper-ation of bodies, we never can, by our utmostscrutiny, discover any thing but one event fol-lowing another, without being able to compre-hend any force or power by which the causeoperates, or any connexion between it and itssupposed effect. The same difficulty occurs

take notice of it, but suppose all along, that matter hasa real, though subordinate and derived power. By whatmeans has it become so prevalent among our modernmetaphysicians?

167

PART II

in contemplating the operations of mind onbody–where we observe the motion of the lat-ter to follow upon the volition of the former,but are not able to observe or conceive the tiewhich binds together the motion and volition,or the energy by which the mind produces thiseffect. The authority of the will over its ownfaculties and ideas is not a whit more compre-hensible: So that, upon the whole, there ap-pears not, throughout all nature, any one in-stance of connexion which is conceivable byus. All events seem entirely loose and sepa-rate. One event follows another; but we nevercan observe any tie between them. They seemconjoined, but never connected. And as we canhave no idea of any thing which never ap-peared to our outward sense or inward senti-ment, the necessary conclusion seems to be thatwe have no idea of connexion or power at all,

168

PART II

and that these words are absolutely withoutany meaning, when employed either in philo-sophical reasonings or common life.

59. But there still remains one method ofavoiding this conclusion, and one source whichwe have not yet examined. When any naturalobject or event is presented, it is impossible forus, by any sagacity or penetration, to discover,or even conjecture, without experience, whatevent will result from it, or to carry our fore-sight beyond that object which is immediatelypresent to the memory and senses. Even af-ter one instance or experiment where we haveobserved a particular event to follow upon an-other, we are not entitled to form a general rule,or foretell what will happen in like cases; it be-ing justly esteemed an unpardonable temerityto judge of the whole course of nature from one

169

PART II

single experiment, however accurate or certain.But when one particular species of event has al-ways, in all instances, been conjoined with an-other, we make no longer any scruple of fore-telling one upon the appearance of the other,and of employing that reasoning, which canalone assure us of any matter of fact or exis-tence. We then call the one object, Cause; theother, Effect. We suppose that there is someconnexion between them; some power in theone, by which it infallibly produces the other,and operates with the greatest certainty andstrongest necessity.

It appears, then, that this idea of a necessaryconnexion among events arises from a num-ber of similar instances which occur of the con-stant conjunction of these events; nor can thatidea ever be suggested by any one of these in-

170

PART II

stances, surveyed in all possible lights and po-sitions. But there is nothing in a number ofinstances, different from every single instance,which is supposed to be exactly similar; exceptonly, that after a repetition of similar instances,the mind is carried by habit, upon the appear-ance of one event, to expect its usual attendant,and to believe that it will exist. This connex-ion, therefore, which we feel in the mind, thiscustomary transition of the imagination fromone object to its usual attendant, is the senti-ment or impression from which we form theidea of power or necessary connexion. Nothingfarther is in the case. Contemplate the subjecton all sides; you will never find any other ori-gin of that idea. This is the sole difference be-tween one instance, from which we can neverreceive the idea of connexion, and a numberof similar instances, by which it is suggested.

171

PART II

The first time a man saw the communicationof motion by impulse, as by the shock of twobilliard balls, he could not pronounce that theone event was connected: but only that it wasconjoined with the other. After he has observedseveral instances of this nature, he then pro-nounces them to be connected. What alterationhas happened to give rise to this new idea ofconnexion? Nothing but that he now feels theseevents to be connected in his imagination, andcan readily foretell the existence of one fromthe appearance of the other. When we say,therefore, that one object is connected with an-other, we mean only that they have acquired aconnexion in our thought, and give rise to thisinference, by which they become proofs of eachother’s existence: A conclusion which is some-what extraordinary, but which seems foundedon sufficient evidence. Nor will its evidence be

172

PART II

weakened by any general diffidence of the un-derstanding, or sceptical suspicion concerningevery conclusion which is new and extraordi-nary. No conclusions can be more agreeable toscepticism than such as make discoveries con-cerning the weakness and narrow limits of hu-man reason and capacity.

60. And what stronger instance can be pro-duced of the surprising ignorance and weak-ness of the understanding than the present?For surely, if there be any relation among ob-jects which it imports to us to know perfectly,it is that of cause and effect. On this arefounded all our reasonings concerning matterof fact or existence. By means of it alone weattain any assurance concerning objects whichare removed from the present testimony of ourmemory and senses. The only immediate util-

173

PART II

ity of all sciences, is to teach us, how to con-trol and regulate future events by their causes.Our thoughts and enquiries are, therefore, ev-ery moment, employed about this relation: Yetso imperfect are the ideas which we form con-cerning it, that it is impossible to give any justdefinition of cause, except what is drawn fromsomething extraneous and foreign to it. Sim-ilar objects are always conjoined with similar.Of this we have experience. Suitably to this ex-perience, therefore, we may define a cause tobe an object, followed by another, and where all theobjects similar to the first are followed by objectssimilar to the second. Or in other words where,if the first object had not been, the second never hadexisted. The appearance of a cause always con-veys the mind, by a customary transition, to theidea of the effect. Of this also we have experi-ence. We may, therefore, suitably to this experi-

174

PART II

ence, form another definition of cause, and callit, an object followed by another, and whose appear-ance always conveys the thought to that other. Butthough both these definitions be drawn fromcircumstances foreign to the cause, we cannotremedy this inconvenience, or attain any moreperfect definition, which may point out that cir-cumstance in the cause, which gives it a con-nexion with its effect. We have no idea of thisconnexion, nor even any distinct notion what itis we desire to know, when we endeavour at aconception of it. We say, for instance, that thevibration of this string is the cause of this par-ticular sound. But what do we mean by thataffirmation? We either mean that this vibrationis followed by this sound, and that all similar vibra-tions have been followed by similar sounds: Or, thatthis vibration is followed by this sound, and thatupon the appearance of one the mind anticipates the

175

PART II

senses, and forms immediately an idea of the other.We may consider the relation of cause and ef-fect in either of these two lights; but beyondthese, we have no idea of it.16

As to the frequent use of the words, Force,

16According to these explications and definitions,the idea of power is relative as much as that of cause; andboth have a reference to an effect, or some other eventconstantly conjoined with the former. When we con-sider the unknown circumstance of an object, by whichthe degree or quantity of its effect is fixed and deter-mined, we call that its power: And accordingly, it is al-lowed by all philosophers, that the effect is the measureof the power. But if they had any idea of power, as itis in itself, why could not they Measure it in itself? Thedispute whether the force of a body in motion be as itsvelocity, or the square of its velocity; this dispute, I say,need not be decided by comparing its effects in equal orunequal times; but by a direct mensuration and compar-ison.

176

PART II

Power, Energy, &c., which every where occurin common conversation, as well as in philos-ophy; that is no proof, that we are acquainted,in any instance, with the connecting principlebetween cause and effect, or can account ulti-mately for the production of one thing to an-other. These words, as commonly used, havevery loose meanings annexed to them; andtheir ideas are very uncertain and confused.No animal can put external bodies in motionwithout the sentiment of a nisus or endeav-our; and every animal has a sentiment or feel-ing from the stroke or blow of an external ob-ject, that is in motion. These sensations, whichare merely animal, and from which we can àpriori draw no inference, we are apt to trans-fer to inanimate objects, and to suppose, thatthey have some such feelings, whenever theytransfer or receive motion. With regard to en-

177

PART II

ergies, which are exerted, without our annex-ing to them any idea of communicated motion,we consider only the constant experienced con-junction of the events; and as we feel a custom-ary connexion between the ideas, we transferthat feeling to the objects; as nothing is moreusual than to apply to external bodies every in-ternal sensation, which they occasion.

61. To recapitulate, therefore, the reasoningsof this section: Every idea is copied from somepreceding impression or sentiment; and wherewe cannot find any impression, we may be cer-tain that there is no idea. In all single instancesof the operation of bodies or minds, there isnothing that produces any impression, nor con-sequently can suggest any idea of power ornecessary connexion. But when many uniforminstances appear, and the same object is al-

178

PART II

ways followed by the same event; we then be-gin to entertain the notion of cause and con-nexion. We then feel a new sentiment or im-pression, to wit, a customary connexion in thethought or imagination between one object andits usual attendant; and this sentiment is theoriginal of that idea which we seek for. For asthis idea arises from a number of similar in-stances, and not from any single instance, itmust arise from that circumstance, in whichthe number of instances differ from every in-dividual instance. But this customary connex-ion or transition of the imagination is the onlycircumstance in which they differ. In everyother particular they are alike. The first in-stance which we saw of motion communicatedby the shock of two billiard balls (to return tothis obvious illustration) is exactly similar toany instance that may, at present, occur to us;

179

PART II

except only, that we could not, at first, inferone event from the other; which we are en-abled to do at present, after so long a courseof uniform experience. I know not whether thereader will readily apprehend this reasoning. Iam afraid that, should I multiply words aboutit, or throw it into a greater variety of lights,it would only become more obscure and in-tricate. In all abstract reasonings there is onepoint of view which, if we can happily hit, weshall go farther towards illustrating the subjectthan by all the eloquence and copious expres-sion in the world. This point of view we shouldendeavour to reach, and reserve the flowers ofrhetoric for subjects which are more adapted tothem.

180

SECTION VIII

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY

PART I

62. It might reasonably be expected in ques-tions which have been canvassed and disputedwith great eagerness, since the first origin ofscience and philosophy, that the meaning of allthe terms, at least, should have been agreedupon among the disputants; and our enquiries,in the course of two thousand years, been ableto pass from words to the true and real sub-ject of the controversy. For how easy may itseem to give exact definitions of the terms em-ployed in reasoning, and make these defini-tions, not the mere sound of words, the objectof future scrutiny and examination? But if weconsider the matter more narrowly, we shall beapt to draw a quite opposite conclusion. Fromthis circumstance alone, that a controversy has

182

PART I

been long kept on foot, and remains still un-decided, we may presume that there is someambiguity in the expression, and that the dis-putants affix different ideas to the terms em-ployed in the controversy. For as the facultiesof the mind are supposed to be naturally alikein every individual; otherwise nothing couldbe more fruitless than to reason or dispute to-gether; it were impossible, if men affix the sameideas to their terms, that they could so longform different opinions of the same subject; es-pecially when they communicate their views,and each party turn themselves on all sides, insearch of arguments which may give them thevictory over their antagonists. It is true, if menattempt the discussion of questions which lieentirely beyond the reach of human capacity,such as those concerning the origin of worlds,or the economy of the intellectual system or re-

183

PART I

gion of spirits, they may long beat the air intheir fruitless contests, and never arrive at anydeterminate conclusion. But if the question re-gard any subject of common life and experi-ence, nothing, one would think, could preservethe dispute so long undecided but some am-biguous expressions, which keep the antago-nists still at a distance, and hinder them fromgrappling with each other.

63. This has been the case in the long dis-puted question concerning liberty and neces-sity; and to so remarkable a degree that, if Ibe not much mistaken, we shall find, that allmankind, both learned and ignorant, have al-ways been of the same opinion with regard tothis subject, and that a few intelligible defini-tions would immediately have put an end tothe whole controversy. I own that this dispute

184

PART I

has been so much canvassed on all hands, andhas led philosophers into such a labyrinth ofobscure sophistry, that it is no wonder, if a sen-sible reader indulge his ease so far as to turna deaf ear to the proposal of such a question,from which he can expect neither instructionor entertainment. But the state of the argumenthere proposed may, perhaps, serve to renew hisattention; as it has more novelty, promises atleast some decision of the controversy, and willnot much disturb his ease by any intricate orobscure reasoning.

I hope, therefore, to make it appear that allmen have ever agreed in the doctrine both ofnecessity and of liberty, according to any rea-sonable sense, which can be put on these terms;and that the whole controversy has hithertoturned merely upon words. We shall begin

185

PART I

with examining the doctrine of necessity.

64. It is universally allowed that matter, in allits operations, is actuated by a necessary force,and that every natural effect is so precisely de-termined by the energy of its cause that noother effect, in such particular circumstances,could possibly have resulted from it. The de-gree and direction of every motion is, by thelaws of nature, prescribed with such exactnessthat a living creature may as soon arise fromthe shock of two bodies as motion in any otherdegree or direction than what is actually pro-duced by it. Would we, therefore, form a justand precise idea of necessity, we must considerwhence that idea arises when we apply it to theoperation of bodies.

It seems evident that, if all the scenes of na-ture were continually shifted in such a man-

186

PART I

ner that no two events bore any resemblanceto each other, but every object was entirelynew, without any similitude to whatever hadbeen seen before, we should never, in that case,have attained the least idea of necessity, or ofa connexion among these objects. We mightsay, upon such a supposition, that one objector event has followed another; not that onewas produced by the other. The relation ofcause and effect must be utterly unknown tomankind. Inference and reasoning concerningthe operations of nature would, from that mo-ment, be at an end; and the memory and sensesremain the only canals, by which the knowl-edge of any real existence could possibly haveaccess to the mind. Our idea, therefore, of ne-cessity and causation arises entirely from theuniformity observable in the operations of na-ture, where similar objects are constantly con-

187

PART I

joined together, and the mind is determined bycustom to infer the one from the appearance ofthe other. These two circumstances form thewhole of that necessity, which we ascribe tomatter. Beyond the constant conjunction of sim-ilar objects, and the consequent inference fromone to the other, we have no notion of any ne-cessity or connexion.

If it appear, therefore, that all mankind haveever allowed, without any doubt or hesitation,that these two circumstances take place in thevoluntary actions of men, and in the operationsof mind; it must follow, that all mankind haveever agreed in the doctrine of necessity, andthat they have hitherto disputed, merely for notunderstanding each other.

65. As to the first circumstance, the constantand regular conjunction of similar events, we

188

PART I

may possibly satisfy ourselves by the follow-ing considerations. It is universally acknowl-edged that there is a great uniformity amongthe actions of men, in all nations and ages, andthat human nature remains still the same, in itsprinciples and operations. The same motivesalways produce the same actions. The sameevents follow from the same causes. Ambition,avarice, self-love, vanity, friendship, generos-ity, public spirit: these passions, mixed in var-ious degrees, and distributed through society,have been, from the beginning of the world,and still are, the source of all the actions andenterprises, which have ever been observedamong mankind. Would you know the sen-timents, inclinations, and course of life of theGreeks and Romans? Study well the temperand actions of the French and English: You can-not be much mistaken in transferring to the for-

189

PART I

mer most of the observations which you havemade with regard to the latter. Mankind areso much the same, in all times and places, thathistory informs us of nothing new or strangein this particular. Its chief use is only to dis-cover the constant and universal principles ofhuman nature, by showing men in all vari-eties of circumstances and situations, and fur-nishing us with materials from which we mayform our observations and become acquaintedwith the regular springs of human action andbehaviour. These records of wars, intrigues,factions, and revolutions, are so many collec-tions of experiments, by which the politicianor moral philosopher fixes the principles of hisscience, in the same manner as the physician ornatural philosopher becomes acquainted withthe nature of plants, minerals, and other ex-ternal objects, by the experiments which he

190

PART I

forms concerning them. Nor are the earth, wa-ter, and other elements, examined by Aristotle,and Hippocrates, more like to those which atpresent lie under our observation than the mendescribed by Polybius and Tacitus are to thosewho now govern the world.

Should a traveller, returning from a far coun-try, bring us an account of men, wholly dif-ferent from any with whom we were ever ac-quainted; men, who were entirely divested ofavarice, ambition, or revenge; who knew nopleasure but friendship, generosity, and pub-lic spirit; we should immediately, from thesecircumstances, detect the falsehood, and provehim a liar, with the same certainty as if he hadstuffed his narration with stories of centaursand dragons, miracles and prodigies. And ifwe would explode any forgery in history, we

191

PART I

cannot make use of a more convincing argu-ment, than to prove, that the actions ascribed toany person are directly contrary to the courseof nature, and that no human motives, in suchcircumstances, could ever induce him to such aconduct. The veracity of Quintus Curtius is asmuch to be suspected, when he describes thesupernatural courage of Alexander, by whichhe was hurried on singly to attack multitudes,as when he describes his supernatural forceand activity, by which he was able to resistthem. So readily and universally do we ac-knowledge a uniformity in human motives andactions as well as in the operations of body.

Hence likewise the benefit of that experi-ence, acquired by long life and a variety ofbusiness and company, in order to instruct usin the principles of human nature, and regu-

192

PART I

late our future conduct, as well as speculation.By means of this guide, we mount up to theknowledge of men’s inclinations and motives,from their actions, expressions, and even ges-tures; and again descend to the interpretationof their actions from our knowledge of theirmotives and inclinations. The general observa-tions treasured up by a course of experience,give us the clue of human nature, and teach usto unravel all its intricacies. Pretexts and ap-pearances no longer deceive us. Public dec-larations pass for the specious colouring of acause. And though virtue and honour be al-lowed their proper weight and authority, thatperfect disinterestedness, so often pretendedto, is never expected in multitudes and parties;seldom in their leaders; and scarcely even in in-dividuals of any rank or station. But were thereno uniformity in human actions, and were ev-

193

PART I

ery experiment which we could form of thiskind irregular and anomalous, it were impos-sible to collect any general observations con-cerning mankind; and no experience, howeveraccurately digested by reflection, would everserve to any purpose. Why is the aged hus-bandman more skilful in his calling than theyoung beginner but because there is a certainuniformity in the operation of the sun, rain,and earth towards the production of vegeta-bles; and experience teaches the old practi-tioner the rules by which this operation is gov-erned and directed.

66. We must not, however, expect that thisuniformity of human actions should be carriedto such a length as that all men, in the samecircumstances, will always act precisely in thesame manner, without making any allowance

194

PART I

for the diversity of characters, prejudices, andopinions. Such a uniformity in every particu-lar, is found in no part of nature. On the con-trary, from observing the variety of conduct indifferent men, we are enabled to form a greatervariety of maxims, which still suppose a degreeof uniformity and regularity.

Are the manners of men different in differ-ent ages and countries? We learn thence thegreat force of custom and education, whichmould the human mind from its infancy andform it into a fixed and established character. Isthe behaviour and conduct of the one sex veryunlike that of the other? Is it thence we be-come acquainted with the different characterswhich nature has impressed upon the sexes,and which she preserves with constancy andregularity? Are the actions of the same per-

195

PART I

son much diversified in the different periods ofhis life, from infancy to old age? This affordsroom for many general observations concern-ing the gradual change of our sentiments andinclinations, and the different maxims whichprevail in the different ages of human crea-tures. Even the characters, which are peculiarto each individual, have a uniformity in theirinfluence; otherwise our acquaintance with thepersons and our observation of their conductcould never teach us their dispositions, or serveto direct our behaviour with regard to them.

67. I grant it possible to find some ac-tions, which seem to have no regular connex-ion with any known motives, and are excep-tions to all the measures of conduct which haveever been established for the government ofmen. But if we would willingly know what

196

PART I

judgement should be formed of such irregu-lar and extraordinary actions, we may considerthe sentiments commonly entertained with re-gard to those irregular events which appear inthe course of nature, and the operations of ex-ternal objects. All causes are not conjoined totheir usual effects with like uniformity. An ar-tificer, who handles only dead matter, may bedisappointed of his aim, as well as the politi-cian, who directs the conduct of sensible andintelligent agents.

The vulgar, who take things according totheir first appearance, attribute the uncertaintyof events to such an uncertainty in the causesas makes the latter often fail of their usual in-fluence; though they meet with no impedimentin their operation. But philosophers, observ-ing that, almost in every part of nature, there is

197

PART I

contained a vast variety of springs and princi-ples, which are hid, by reason of their minute-ness or remoteness, find, that it is at least pos-sible the contrariety of events may not proceedfrom any contingency in the cause, but fromthe secret operation of contrary causes. Thispossibility is converted into certainty by fartherobservation, when they remark that, upon anexact scrutiny, a contrariety of effects alwaysbetrays a contrariety of causes, and proceedsfrom their mutual opposition. A peasant cangive no better reason for the stopping of anyclock or watch than to say that it does not com-monly go right: But an artist easily perceivesthat the same force in the spring or pendulumhas always the same influence on the wheels;but fails of its usual effect, perhaps by reason ofa grain of dust, which puts a stop to the wholemovement. From the observation of several

198

PART I

parallel instances, philosophers form a maximthat the connexion between all causes and ef-fects is equally necessary, and that its seeminguncertainty in some instances proceeds fromthe secret opposition of contrary causes.

Thus, for instance, in the human body, whenthe usual symptoms of health or sickness dis-appoint our expectation; when medicines oper-ate not with their wonted powers; when irreg-ular events follow from any particular cause;the philosopher and physician are not sur-prised at the matter, nor are ever tempted todeny, in general, the necessity and uniformityof those principles by which the animal econ-omy is conducted. They know that a humanbody is a mighty complicated machine: Thatmany secret powers lurk in it, which are alto-gether beyond our comprehension: That to us

199

PART I

it must often appear very uncertain in its oper-ations: And that therefore the irregular events,which outwardly discover themselves, can beno proof that the laws of nature are not ob-served with the greatest regularity in its inter-nal operations and government.

68. The philosopher, if he be consistent, mustapply the same reasoning to the actions and vo-litions of intelligent agents. The most irregu-lar and unexpected resolutions of men may fre-quently be accounted for by those who knowevery particular circumstance of their charac-ter and situation. A person of an obliging dis-position gives a peevish answer: But he hasthe toothache, or has not dined. A stupid fel-low discovers an uncommon alacrity in his car-riage: But he has met with a sudden pieceof good fortune. Or even when an action, as

200

PART I

sometimes happens, cannot be particularly ac-counted for, either by the person himself orby others; we know, in general, that the char-acters of men are, to a certain degree, incon-stant and irregular. This is, in a manner, theconstant character of human nature; thoughit be applicable, in a more particular man-ner, to some persons who have no fixed rulefor their conduct, but proceed in a continuedcourse of caprice and inconstancy. The inter-nal principles and motives may operate in auniform manner, notwithstanding these seem-ing irregularities; in the same manner as thewinds, rain, clouds, and other variations ofthe weather are supposed to be governed bysteady principles; though not easily discover-able by human sagacity and enquiry.

69. Thus it appears, not only that the con-

201

PART I

junction between motives and voluntary ac-tions is as regular and uniform as that betweenthe cause and effect in any part of nature; butalso that this regular conjunction has been uni-versally acknowledged among mankind, andhas never been the subject of dispute, eitherin philosophy or common life. Now, as it isfrom past experience that we draw all infer-ences concerning the future, and as we con-clude that objects will always be conjoined to-gether which we find to have always been con-joined; it may seem superfluous to prove thatthis experienced uniformity in human actionsis a source whence we draw inferences concern-ing them. But in order to throw the argumentinto a greater variety of lights we shall also in-sist, though briefly, on this latter topic.

The mutual dependence of men is so great

202

PART I

in all societies that scarce any human actionis entirely complete in itself, or is performedwithout some reference to the actions of oth-ers, which are requisite to make it answer fullythe intention of the agent. The poorest artifi-cer, who labours alone, expects at least the pro-tection of the magistrate, to ensure him the en-joyment of the fruits of his labour. He also ex-pects that, when he carries his goods to mar-ket, and offers them at a reasonable price, heshall find purchasers, and shall be able, by themoney he acquires, to engage others to supplyhim with those commodities which are requi-site for his subsistence. In proportion as menextend their dealings, and render their inter-course with others more complicated, they al-ways comprehend, in their schemes of life, agreater variety of voluntary actions, which theyexpect, from the proper motives, to co-operate

203

PART I

with their own. In all these conclusions theytake their measures from past experience, inthe same manner as in their reasonings con-cerning external objects; and firmly believe thatmen, as well as all the elements, are to con-tinue, in their operations, the same that theyhave ever found them. A manufacturer reck-ons upon the labour of his servants for theexecution of any work as much as upon thetools which he employs, and would be equallysurprised were his expectations disappointed.In short, this experimental inference and rea-soning concerning the actions of others entersso much into human life that no man, whileawake, is ever a moment without employing it.Have we not reason, therefore, to affirm that allmankind have always agreed in the doctrine ofnecessity according to the foregoing definitionand explication of it?

204

PART I

70. Nor have philosophers ever entertaineda different opinion from the people in this par-ticular. For, not to mention that almost everyaction of their life supposes that opinion, thereare even few of the speculative parts of learn-ing to which it is not essential. What would be-come of history, had we not a dependence onthe veracity of the historian according to theexperience which we have had of mankind?How could politics be a science, if laws andforms of goverment had not a uniform influ-ence upon society? Where would be the foun-dation of morals, if particular characters had nocertain or determinate power to produce par-ticular sentiments, and if these sentiments hadno constant operation on actions? And withwhat pretence could we employ our criticismupon any poet or polite author, if we could notpronounce the conduct and sentiments of his

205

PART I

actors either natural or unnatural to such char-acters, and in such circumstances? It seems al-most impossible, therefore, to engage either inscience or action of any kind without acknowl-edging the doctrine of necessity, and this in-ference from motive to voluntary actions, fromcharacters to conduct.

And indeed, when we consider how aptlynatural and moral evidence link together, andform only one chain of argument, we shallmake no scruple to allow that they are of thesame nature, and derived from the same princi-ples. A prisoner who has neither money nor in-terest, discovers the impossibility of his escape,as well when he considers the obstinacy of thegaoler, as the walls and bars with which he issurrounded; and, in all attempts for his free-dom, chooses rather to work upon the stone

206

PART I

and iron of the one, than upon the inflexiblenature of the other. The same prisoner, whenconducted to the scaffold, foresees his deathas certainly from the constancy and fidelity ofhis guards, as from the operation of the axeor wheel. His mind runs along a certain trainof ideas: The refusal of the soldiers to con-sent to his escape; the action of the executioner;the separation of the head and body; bleed-ing, convulsive motions, and death. Here isa connected chain of natural causes and vol-untary actions; but the mind feels no differ-ence between them in passing from one linkto another: Nor is less certain of the futureevent than if it were connected with the ob-jects present to the memory or senses, by a trainof causes, cemented together by what we arepleased to call a physical necessity. The sameexperienced union has the same effect on the

207

PART I

mind, whether the united objects be motives,volition, and actions; or figure and motion. Wemay change the name of things; but their na-ture and their operation on the understandingnever change.

Were a man, whom I know to be honestand opulent, and with whom I live in intimatefriendship, to come into my house, where I amsurrounded with my servants, I rest assuredthat he is not to stab me before he leaves it inorder to rob me of my silver standish; and Ino more suspect this event than the falling ofthe house itself, which is new, and solidly builtand founded.–But he may have been seized with asudden and unknown frenzy.–So may a suddenearthquake arise, and shake and tumble myhouse about my ears. I shall therefore changethe suppositions. I shall say that I know with

208

PART I

certainty that he is not to put his hand into thefire and hold it there till it be consumed: Andthis event, I think I can foretell with the sameassurance, as that, if he throw himself out atthe window, and meet with no obstruction, hewill not remain a moment suspended in theair. No suspicion of an unknown frenzy cangive the least possibility to the former event,which is so contrary to all the known princi-ples of human nature. A man who at noonleaves his purse full of gold on the pavement atCharing-Cross, may as well expect that it willfly away like a feather, as that he will find ituntouched an hour after. Above one half ofhuman reasonings contain inferences of a sim-ilar nature, attended with more or less degreesof certainty proportioned to our experience ofthe usual conduct of mankind in such particu-lar situations.

209

PART I

71. I have frequently considered, whatcould possibly be the reason why all mankind,though they have ever, without hesitation, ac-knowledged the doctrine of necessity in theirwhole practice and reasoning, have yet discov-ered such a reluctance to acknowledge it inwords, and have rather shown a propensity, inall ages, to profess the contrary opinion. Thematter, I think, may be accounted for after thefollowing manner. If we examine the oper-ations of body, and the production of effectsfrom their causes, we shall find that all our fac-ulties can never carry us farther in our knowl-edge of this relation than barely to observethat particular objects are constantly conjoinedtogether, and that the mind is carried, by a cus-tomary transition, from the appearance of oneto the belief of the other. But though this con-clusion concerning human ignorance be the re-

210

PART I

sult of the strictest scrutiny of this subject, menstill entertain a strong propensity to believethat they penetrate farther into the powers ofnature, and perceive something like a neces-sary connexion between the cause and the ef-fect. When again they turn their reflections to-wards the operations of their own minds, andfeel no such connexion of the motive and the ac-tion; they are thence apt to suppose, that thereis a difference between the effects which resultfrom material force, and those which arise fromthought and intelligence. But being once con-vinced that we know nothing farther of causa-tion of any kind than merely the constant con-junction of objects, and the consequent inferenceof the mind from one to another, and findingthat these two circumstances are universally al-lowed to have place in voluntary actions; wemay be more easily led to own the same ne-

211

PART I

cessity common to all causes. And though thisreasoning may contradict the systems of manyphilosophers, in ascribing necessity to the de-terminations of the will, we shall find, upon re-flection, that they dissent from it in words only,not in their real sentiment. Necessity, accord-ing to the sense in which it is here taken, hasnever yet been rejected, nor can ever, I think, berejected by any philosopher. It may only, per-haps, be pretended that the mind can perceive,in the operations of matter, some farther con-nexion between the cause and effect; and con-nexion that has not place in voluntary actionsof intelligent beings. Now whether it be so ornot, can only appear upon examination; andit is incumbent on these philosophers to makegood their assertion, by defining or describingthat necessity, and pointing it out to us in theoperations of material causes.

212

PART I

72. It would seem, indeed, that men beginat the wrong end of this question concerningliberty and necessity, when they enter uponit by examining the faculties of the soul, theinfluence of the understanding, and the op-erations of the will. Let them first discuss amore simple question, namely, the operationsof body and of brute unintelligent matter; andtry whether they can there form any idea ofcausation and necessity, except that of a con-stant conjunction of objects, and subsequent in-ference of the mind from one to another. Ifthese circumstances form, in reality, the wholeof that necessity, which we conceive in matter,and if these circumstances be also universallyacknowledged to take place in the operationsof the mind, the dispute is at an end; at least,must be owned to be thenceforth merely ver-bal. But as long as we will rashly suppose, that

213

PART I

we have some farther idea of necessity and cau-sation in the operations of external objects; atthe same time, that we can find nothing fartherin the voluntary actions of the mind; there isno possibility of bringing the question to anydeterminate issue, while we proceed upon soerroneous a supposition. The only method ofundeceiving us is to mount up higher; to exam-ine the narrow extent of science when appliedto material causes; and to convince ourselvesthat all we know of them is the constant con-junction and inference above mentioned. Wemay, perhaps, find that it is with difficulty weare induced to fix such narrow limits to humanunderstanding: But we can afterwards find nodifficulty when we come to apply this doctrineto the actions of the will. For as it is evident thatthese have a regular conjunction with motivesand circumstances and characters, and as we

214

PART I

always draw inferences from one to the other,we must be obliged to acknowledge in wordsthat necessity, which we have already avowed,in every deliberation of our lives, and in everystep of our conduct and behaviour.17

17The prevalence of the doctrine of liberty may beaccounted for, from another cause, viz. a false sensationor seeming experience which we have, or may have, ofliberty or indifference, in many of our actions. The ne-cessity of any action, whether of matter or of mind, isnot, properly speaking, a quality in the agent, but in anythinking or intelligent being, who may consider the ac-tion; and it consists chiefly in the determination of histhoughts to infer the existence of that action from somepreceding objects; as liberty, when opposed to necessity,is nothing but the want of that determination, and a cer-tain looseness or indifference, which we feel, in passing,or not passing, from the idea of one object to that of anysucceeding one. Now we may observe, that, though,in reflecting on human actions, we seldom feel such a

215

PART I

looseness, or indifference, but are commonly able to in-fer them with considerable certainty from their motives,and from the dispositions of the agent; yet it frequentlyhappens, that, in performing the actions themselves, weare sensible of something like it: And as all resemblingobjects are readily taken for each other, this has beenemployed as a demonstrative and even intuitive proofof human liberty. We feel, that our actions are subject toour will, on most occasions; and imagine we feel, thatthe will itself is subject to nothing, because, when by adenial of it we are provoked to try, we feel, that it moveseasily every way, and produces an image of itself (or aVelleïty, 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 beencompleated into the thing itself; because, should that bedenied, we find, upon a second trial, that, at present, itcan. We consider not, that the fantastical desire of shew-ing liberty, is here the motive of our actions. And itseems certain, that, however we may imagine we feela liberty within ourselves, a spectator can commonlyinfer our actions from our motives and character; and

216

PART I

73. But to proceed in this reconciling projectwith regard to the question of liberty and ne-cessity; the most contentious question of meta-physics, the most contentious science; it willnot require many words to prove, that allmankind have ever agreed in the doctrine ofliberty as well as in that of necessity, and thatthe whole dispute, in this respect also, has beenhitherto merely verbal. For what is meant byliberty, when applied to voluntary actions? Wecannot surely mean that actions have so lit-tle connexion with motives, inclinations, andcircumstances, that one does not follow with

even where he cannot, he concludes in general, that hemight, were he perfectly acquainted with every circum-stance of our situation and temper, and the most secretsprings of our complexion and disposition. Now this isthe very essence of necessity, according to the foregoingdoctrine.

217

PART I

a certain degree of uniformity from the other,and that one affords no inference by which wecan conclude the existence of the other. Forthese are plain and acknowledged matters offact. By liberty, then, we can only mean a powerof acting or not acting, according to the determina-tions of the will; that is, if we choose to remainat rest, we may; if we choose to move, we alsomay. Now this hypothetical liberty is univer-sally allowed to belong to every one who is nota prisoner and in chains. Here, then, is no sub-ject of dispute.

74. Whatever definition we may give of lib-erty, we should be careful to observe two req-uisite circumstances; first, that it be consistentwith plain matter of fact; secondly, that it be con-sistent with itself. If we observe these circum-stances, and render our definition intelligible, I

218

PART I

am persuaded that all mankind will be foundof one opinion with regard to it.

It is universally allowed that nothing ex-ists without a cause of its existence, and thatchance, when strictly examined, is a mere neg-ative word, and means not any real powerwhich has anywhere a being in nature. But itis pretended that some causes are necessary,some not necessary. Here then is the advan-tage of definitions. Let any one define a cause,without comprehending, as a part of the defi-nition, a necessary connexion with its effect; andlet him show distinctly the origin of the idea,expressed by the definition; and I shall readilygive up the whole controversy. But if the fore-going explication of the matter be received, thismust be absolutely impracticable. Had not ob-jects a regular conjunction with each other, we

219

PART I

should never have entertained any notion ofcause and effect; and this regular conjunctionproduces that inference of the understanding,which is the only connexion, that we can haveany comprehension of. Whoever attempts adefinition of cause, exclusive of these circum-stances, will be obliged either to employ unin-telligible terms or such as are synonymous tothe term which he endeavours to define.18 Andif the definition above mentioned be admitted;

18Thus, if a cause be defined, that which produces anything; it is easy to observe, that producing is synonymousto causing. In like manner, if a cause be defined, thatby which any thing exists; this is liable to the same objec-tion. For what is meant by these words, by which? Hadit been said, that a cause is that after which any thing con-stantly exists; we should have understood the terms. Forthis is, indeed, all we know of the matter. And this con-stancy forms the very essence of necessity, nor have weany other idea of it.

220

PART I

liberty, when opposed to necessity, not to con-straint, is the same thing with chance; which isuniversally allowed to have no existence.

221

PART II

75. There is no method of reasoning more com-mon, and yet none more blameable, than, inphilosophical disputes, to endeavour the refu-tation of any hypothesis, by a pretence of itsdangerous consequences to religion and moral-ity. When any opinion leads to absurdities, it iscertainly false; but it is not certain that an opin-ion is false, because it is of dangerous conse-quence. Such topics, therefore, ought entirelyto be forborne; as serving nothing to the dis-covery of truth, but only to make the personof an antagonist odious. This I observe in gen-eral, without pretending to draw any advan-tage from it. I frankly submit to an examinationof this kind, and shall venture to affirm that thedoctrines, both of necessity and of liberty, as

222

PART II

above explained, are not only consistent withmorality, but are absolutely essential to its sup-port.

Necessity may be defined two ways, con-formably to the two definitions of cause, ofwhich it makes an essential part. It consistseither in the constant conjunction of like ob-jects, or in the inference of the understandingfrom one object to another. Now necessity, inboth these senses, (which, indeed, are at bot-tom the same) has universally, though tacitly,in the schools, in the pulpit, and in commonlife, been allowed to belong to the will of man;and no one has ever pretended to deny thatwe can draw inferences concerning human ac-tions, and that those inferences are foundedon the experienced union of like actions, withlike motives, inclinations, and circumstances.

223

PART II

The only particular in which any one can dif-fer, is, that either, perhaps, he will refuse togive the name of necessity to this property ofhuman actions: But as long as the meaning isunderstood, I hope the word can do no harm:Or that he will maintain it possible to discoversomething farther in the operations of matter.But this, it must be acknowledged, can be ofno consequence to morality or religion, what-ever it may be to natural philosophy or meta-physics. We may here be mistaken in assert-ing that there is no idea of any other necessityor connexion in the actions of body: But surelywe ascribe nothing to the actions of the mind,but what everyone does, and must readily al-low of. We change no circumstance in the re-ceived orthodox system with regard to the will,but only in that with regard to material objectsand causes. Nothing, therefore, can be more in-

224

PART II

nocent, at least, than this doctrine.

76. All laws being founded on rewards andpunishments, it is supposed as a fundamen-tal principle, that these motives have a regu-lar and uniform influence on the mind, andboth produce the good and prevent the evil ac-tions. We may give to this influence what namewe please; but, as it is usually conjoined withthe action, it must be esteemed a cause, and belooked upon as an instance of that necessity,which we would here establish.

The only proper object of hatred orvengeance is a person or creature, endowedwith thought and consciousness; and whenany criminal or injurious actions excite thatpassion, it is only by their relation to theperson, or connexion with him. Actionsare, by their very nature, temporary and

225

PART II

perishing; and where they proceed not fromsome cause in the character and dispositionof the person who performed them, they canneither redound to his honour, if good; norinfamy, if evil. The actions themselves maybe blameable; they may be contrary to allthe rules of morality and religion: But theperson is not answerable for them; and asthey proceeded from nothing in him that isdurable and constant, and leave nothing ofthat nature behind them, it is impossible hecan, upon their account, become the object ofpunishment or vengeance. According to theprinciple, therefore, which denies necessity,and consequently causes, a man is as pure anduntainted, after having committed the mosthorrid crime, as at the first moment of hisbirth, nor is his character anywise concernedin his actions, since they are not derived from

226

PART II

it, and the wickedness of the one can never beused as a proof of the depravity of the other.

Men are not blamed for such actions asthey perform ignorantly and casually, what-ever may be the consequences. Why? but be-cause the principles of these actions are onlymomentary, and terminate in them alone. Menare less blamed for such actions as they per-form hastily and unpremeditately than for suchas proceed from deliberation. For what reason?but because a hasty temper, though a constantcause or principle in the mind, operates onlyby intervals, and infects not the whole charac-ter. Again, repentance wipes off every crime,if attended with a reformation of life and man-ners. How is this to be accounted for? but byasserting that actions render a person criminalmerely as they are proofs of criminal princi-

227

PART II

ples in the mind; and when, by an alterationof these principles, they cease to be just proofs,they likewise cease to be criminal. But, exceptupon the doctrine of necessity, they never werejust proofs, and consequently never were crim-inal.

77. It will be equally easy to prove, and fromthe same arguments, that liberty, according tothat definition above mentioned, in which allmen agree, is also essential to morality, and thatno human actions, where it is wanting, are sus-ceptible of any moral qualities, or can be theobjects either of approbation or dislike. For asactions are objects of our moral sentiment, sofar only as they are indications of the internalcharacter, passions, and affections; it is impos-sible that they can give rise either to praise orblame, where they proceed not from these prin-

228

PART II

ciples, but are derived altogether from externalviolence.

78. I pretend not to have obviated or re-moved all objections to this theory, with regardto necessity and liberty. I can foresee other ob-jections, derived from topics which have nothere been treated of. It may be said, for in-stance, that, if voluntary actions be subjected tothe same laws of necessity with the operationsof matter, there is a continued chain of neces-sary causes, pre-ordained and pre-determined,reaching from the original cause of all to everysingle volition of every human creature. Nocontingency anywhere in the universe; no in-difference; no liberty. While we act, we are, atthe same time, acted upon. The ultimate Au-thor of all our volitions is the Creator of theworld, who first bestowed motion on this im-

229

PART II

mense machine, and placed all beings in thatparticular position, whence every subsequentevent, by an inevitable necessity, must result.Human actions, therefore, either can have nomoral turpitude at all, as proceeding from sogood a cause; or if they have any turpitude,they must involve our Creator in the sameguilt, while he is acknowledged to be their ul-timate cause and author. For as a man, whofired a mine, is answerable for all the conse-quences whether the train he employed be longor short; so wherever a continued chain of nec-essary causes is fixed, that Being, either finiteor infinite, who produces the first, is likewisethe author of all the rest, and must both bearthe blame and acquire the praise which be-long to them. Our clear and unalterable ideasof morality establish this rule, upon unques-tionable reasons, when we examine the conse-

230

PART II

quences of any human action; and these rea-sons must still have greater force when appliedto the volitions and intentions of a Being in-finitely wise and powerful. Ignorance or im-potence may be pleaded for so limited a crea-ture as man; but those imperfections have noplace in our Creator. He foresaw, he ordained,he intended all those actions of men, whichwe so rashly pronounce criminal. And wemust therefore conclude, either that they arenot criminal, or that the Deity, not man, is ac-countable for them. But as either of these posi-tions is absurd and impious, it follows, that thedoctrine from which they are deduced cannotpossibly be true, as being liable to all the sameobjections. An absurd consequence, if neces-sary, proves the original doctrine to be absurd;in the same manner as criminal actions rendercriminal the original cause, if the connexion be-

231

PART II

tween them be necessary and evitable.

This objection consists of two parts, whichwe shall examine separately; First, that, if hu-man actions can be traced up, by a necessarychain, to the Deity, they can never be criminal;on account of the infinite perfection of that Be-ing from whom they are derived, and who canintend nothing but what is altogether good andlaudable. Or, Secondly, if they be criminal, wemust retract the attribute of perfection, whichwe ascribe to the Deity, and must acknowledgehim to be the ultimate author of guilt and moralturpitude in all his creatures.

79. The answer to the first objection seemsobvious and convincing. There are manyphilosophers who, after an exact scrutiny of allthe phenomena of nature, conclude, that theWHOLE, considered as one system, is, in ev-

232

PART II

ery period of its existence, ordered with per-fect benevolence; and that the utmost possi-ble happiness will, in the end, result to all cre-ated beings, without any mixture of positive orabsolute ill or misery. Every physical ill, saythey, makes an essential part of this benevolentsystem, and could not possibly be removed,even by the Deity himself, considered as a wiseagent, without giving entrance to greater ill,or excluding greater good, which will resultfrom it. From this theory, some philosophers,and the ancient Stoics among the rest, derived atopic of consolation under all afflictions, whilethey taught their pupils that those ills underwhich they laboured were, in reality, goodsto the universe; and that to an enlarged view,which could comprehend the whole system ofnature, every event became an object of joy andexultation. But though this topic be specious

233

PART II

and sublime, it was soon found in practiceweak and ineffectual. You would surely moreirritate than appease a man lying under theracking pains of the gout by preaching up tohim the rectitude of those general laws, whichproduced the malignant humours in his body,and led them through the proper canals, to thesinews and nerves, where they now excite suchacute torments. These enlarged views may, fora moment, please the imagination of a spec-ulative man, who is placed in ease and secu-rity; but neither can they dwell with constancyon his mind, even though undisturbed by theemotions of pain or passion; much less canthey maintain their ground when attacked bysuch powerful antagonists. The affections takea narrower and more natural survey of theirobject; and by an economy, more suitable tothe infirmity of human minds, regard alone the

234

PART II

beings around us, and are actuated by suchevents as appear good or ill to the private sys-tem.

80. The case is the same with moral as withphysical ill. It cannot reasonably be supposed,that those remote considerations, which arefound of so little efficacy with regard to one,will have a more powerful influence with re-gard to the other. The mind of man is so formedby nature that, upon the appearance of certaincharacters, dispositions, and actions, it imme-diately feels the sentiment of approbation orblame; nor are there any emotions more essen-tial to its frame and constitution. The charac-ters which engage our approbation are chieflysuch as contribute to the peace and securityof human society; as the characters which ex-cite blame are chiefly such as tend to pub-

235

PART II

lic detriment and disturbance: Whence it mayreasonably be presumed, that the moral senti-ments arise, either mediately or immediately,from a reflection of these opposite interests.What though philosophical meditations estab-lish a different opinion or conjecture; that ev-erything is right with regard to the WHOLE,and that the qualities, which disturb society,are, in the main, as beneficial, and are as suit-able to the primary intention of nature as thosewhich more directly promote its happiness andwelfare? Are such remote and uncertain spec-ulations able to counterbalance the sentimentswhich arise from the natural and immediateview of the objects? A man who is robbed ofa considerable sum; does he find his vexationfor the loss anywise diminished by these sub-lime reflections? Why then should his moralresentment against the crime be supposed in-

236

PART II

compatible with them? Or why should not theacknowledgment of a real distinction betweenvice and virtue be reconcileable to all specula-tive systems of philosophy, as well as that ofa real distinction between personal beauty anddeformity? Both these distinctions are foundedin the natural sentiments of the human mind:And these sentiments are not to be controuledor altered by any philosophical theory or spec-ulation whatsoever.

81. The second objection admits not of so easyand satisfactory an answer; nor is it possible toexplain distinctly, how the Deity can be the me-diate cause of all the actions of men, withoutbeing the author of sin and moral turpitude.These are mysteries, which mere natural andunassisted reason is very unfit to handle; andwhatever system she embraces, she must find

237

PART II

herself involved in inextricable difficulties, andeven contradictions, at every step which shetakes with regard to such subjects. To recon-cile the indifference and contingency of humanactions with prescience; or to defend absolutedecrees, and yet free the Deity from being theauthor of sin, has been found hitherto to ex-ceed all the power of philosophy. Happy, ifshe be thence sensible of her temerity, when shepries into these sublime mysteries; and leavinga scene so full of obscurities and perplexities,return, with suitable modesty, to her true andproper province, the examination of commonlife; where she will find difficulties enough toemploy her enquiries, without launching intoso boundless an ocean of doubt, uncertainty,and contradiction!

238

SECTION IX

OF THE REASON OF ANIMALS

82. All our reasonings concerning matter offact are founded on a species of Analogy, whichleads us to expect from any cause the sameevents, which we have observed to result from

similar causes. Where the causes are entirelysimilar, the analogy is perfect, and the infer-ence, drawn from it, is regarded as certain andconclusive: nor does any man ever entertaina doubt, where he sees a piece of iron, that itwill have weight and cohesion of parts; as in allother instances, which have ever fallen underhis observation. But where the objects have notso exact a similarity, the analogy is less perfect,and the inference is less conclusive; though stillit has some force, in proportion to the degreeof similarity and resemblance. The anatomicalobservations, formed upon one animal, are, bythis species of reasoning, extended to all ani-mals; and it is certain, that when the circula-tion of the blood, for instance, is clearly provedto have place in one creature, as a frog, or fish,it forms a strong presumption, that the sameprinciple has place in all. These analogical ob-

240

servations may be carried farther, even to thisscience, of which we are now treating; and anytheory, by which we explain the operations ofthe understanding, or the origin and connexionof the passions in man, will acquire additionalauthority, if we find, that the same theory isrequisite to explain the same phenomena in allother animals. We shall make trial of this, withregard to the hypothesis, by which we have,in the foregoing discourse, endeavoured to ac-count for all experimental reasonings; and it ishoped, that this new point of view will serve toconfirm all our former observations.

83. First, It seems evident, that animals aswell as men learn many things from experi-ence, and infer, that the same events will al-ways follow from the same causes. By thisprinciple they become acquainted with the

241

more obvious properties of external objects,and gradually, from their birth, treasure up aknowledge of the nature of fire, water, earth,stones, heights, depths, &c., and of the effectswhich result from their operation. The igno-rance and inexperience of the young are hereplainly distinguishable from the cunning andsagacity of the old, who have learned, by longobservation, to avoid what hurt them, and topursue what gave ease or pleasure. A horse,that has been accustomed to the field, becomesacquainted with the proper height which hecan leap, and will never attempt what exceedshis force and ability. An old greyhound willtrust the more fatiguing part of the chace to theyounger, and will place himself so as to meetthe hare in her doubles; nor are the conjectures,which he forms on this occasion, founded inany thing but his observation and experience.

242

This is still more evident from the effectsof discipline and education on animals, who,by the proper application of rewards and pun-ishments, may be taught any course of action,and most contrary to their natural instincts andpropensities. Is it not experience, which ren-ders a dog apprehensive of pain, when youmenace him, or lift up the whip to beat him?Is it not even experience, which makes him an-swer to his name, and infer, from such an ar-bitrary sound, that you mean him rather thanany of his fellows, and intend to call him, whenyou pronounce it in a certain manner, and witha certain tone and accent?

In all these cases, we may observe, that theanimal infers some fact beyond what immedi-ately strikes his senses; and that this inferenceis altogether founded on past experience, while

243

the creature expects from the present object thesame consequences, which it has always foundin its observation to result from similar objects.

84. Secondly, It is impossible, that this in-ference of the animal can be founded on anyprocess of argument or reasoning, by which heconcludes, that like events must follow like ob-jects, and that the course of nature will alwaysbe regular in its operations. For if there be in re-ality any arguments of this nature, they surelylie too abstruse for the observation of such im-perfect understandings; since it may well em-ploy the utmost care and attention of a philo-sophic genius to discover and observe them.Animals, therefore, are not guided in these in-ferences by reasoning: Neither are children:Neither are the generality of mankind, in theirordinary actions and conclusions: Neither are

244

philosophers themselves, who, in all the activeparts of life, are, in the main, the same with thevulgar, and are governed by the same maxims.Nature must have provided some other princi-ple, of more ready, and more general use andapplication; nor can an operation of such im-mense consequence in life, as that of inferringeffects from causes, be trusted to the uncertainprocess of reasoning and argumentation. Werethis doubtful with regard to men, it seems toadmit of no question with regard to the brutecreation; and the conclusion being once firmlyestablished in the one, we have a strong pre-sumption, from all the rules of analogy, that itought to be universally admitted, without anyexception or reserve. It is custom alone, whichengages animals, from every object, that strikestheir senses, to infer its usual attendant, andcarries their imagination, from the appearance

245

of the one, to conceive the other, in that partic-ular manner, which we denominate belief. Noother explication can be given of this operation,in all the higher, as well as lower classes of sen-sitive beings, which fall under our notice andobservation19

We shall here endeavour briefly to explainthe great difference in human understandings:After which the reason of the difference be-tween men and animals will easily be compre-hended.

1. When we have lived any time, and havebeen accustomed to the uniformity of nature,

19Since all reasonings concerning facts or causes isderived merely from custom, it may be asked how ithappens, that men so much surpass animals in reason-ing, and one man so much surpasses another? Has notthe same custom the same influence on all?

246

we acquire a general habit, by which we al-ways transfer the known to the unknown, andconceive the latter to resemble the former. Bymeans of this general habitual principle, we re-gard even one experiment as the foundationof reasoning, and expect a similar event withsome degree of certainty, where the experimenthas been made accurately, and free from all for-eign circumstances. It is therefore consideredas a matter of great importance to observe theconsequences of things; and as one man mayvery much surpass another in attention andmemory and observation, this will make a verygreat difference in their reasoning.

2. Where there is a complication of causesto produce any effect, one mind may be muchlarger than another, and better able to compre-hend the whole system of objects, and to infer

247

justly their consequences.

3. One man is able to carry on a chain of con-sequences to a greater length than another.

4. Few men can think long without runninginto a confusion of ideas, and mistaking one foranother; and there are various degrees of thisinfirmity.

5. The circumstance, on which the effect de-pends, is frequently involved in other circum-stances, which are foreign and extrinsic. Theseparation of it often requires great attention,accuracy, and subtilty.

6. The forming of general maxims from par-ticular observation is a very nice operation; andnothing is more usual, from haste or a narrow-ness of mind, which sees not on all sides, thanto commit mistakes in this particular.

248

7. When we reason from analogies, the man,who has the greater experience or the greaterpromptitude of suggesting analogies, will bethe better reasoner.

8. Byasses from prejudice, education, pas-sion, party, &c. hang more upon one mind thananother.

9. After we have acquired a confidence inhuman testimony, books and conversation en-large much more the sphere of one man’s expe-rience and thought than those of another.

It would be easy to discover many other cir-cumstances that make a difference in the un-derstandings of men.

85. But though animals learn many partsof their knowledge from observation, there arealso many parts of it, which they derive from

249

the original hand of nature; which much ex-ceed the share of capacity they possess on or-dinary occasions; and in which they improve,little or nothing, by the longest practice and ex-perience. These we denominate Instincts, andare so apt to admire as something very ex-traordinary, and inexplicable by all the disqui-sitions of human understanding. But our won-der will, perhaps, cease or diminish, when weconsider, that the experimental reasoning itself,which we possess in common with beasts, andon which the whole conduct of life depends, isnothing but a species of instinct or mechanicalpower, that acts in us unknown to ourselves;and in its chief operations, is not directed byany such relations or comparisons of ideas, asare the proper objects of our intellectual facul-ties. Though the instinct be different, yet stillit is an instinct, which teaches a man to avoid

250

the fire; as much as that, which teaches a bird,with such exactness, the art of incubation, andthe whole economy and order of its nursery.

251

SECTION X

OF MIRACLES

PART I

86. There is, in Dr. Tillotson’s writings, anargument against the real presence, which is asconcise, and elegant, and strong as any ar-gument can possibly be supposed against adoctrine, so little worthy of a serious refuta-tion. It is acknowledged on all hands, says thatlearned prelate, that the authority, either of thescripture or of tradition, is founded merely inthe testimony of the apostles, who were eye-witnesses to those miracles of our Saviour, bywhich he proved his divine mission. Our evi-dence, then, for the truth of the Christian reli-gion is less than the evidence for the truth ofour senses; because, even in the first authorsof our religion, it was no greater; and it is evi-dent it must diminish in passing from them to

253

PART I

their disciples; nor can any one rest such con-fidence in their testimony, as in the immediateobject of his senses. But a weaker evidence cannever destroy a stronger; and therefore, werethe doctrine of the real presence ever so clearlyrevealed in scripture, it were directly contraryto the rules of just reasoning to give our assentto it. It contradicts sense, though both the scrip-ture and tradition, on which it is supposed tobe built, carry not such evidence with them assense; when they are considered merely as ex-ternal evidences, and are not brought home toevery one’s breast, by the immediate operationof the Holy Spirit.

Nothing is so convenient as a decisive argu-ment of this kind, which must at least silencethe most arrogant bigotry and superstition, andfree us from their impertinent solicitations. I

254

PART I

flatter myself, that I have discovered an argu-ment of a like nature, which, if just, will, withthe wise and learned, be an everlasting checkto all kinds of superstitious delusion, and con-sequently, will be useful as long as the worldendures. For so long, I presume, will the ac-counts of miracles and prodigies be found inall history, sacred and profane.

87. Though experience be our only guide inreasoning concerning matters of fact; it must beacknowledged, that this guide is not altogetherinfallible, but in some cases is apt to lead usinto errors. One, who in our climate, should ex-pect better weather in any week of June than inone of December, would reason justly, and con-formably to experience; but it is certain, thathe may happen, in the event, to find himselfmistaken. However, we may observe, that, in

255

PART I

such a case, he would have no cause to com-plain of experience; because it commonly in-forms us beforehand of the uncertainty, by thatcontrariety of events, which we may learn froma diligent observation. All effects follow notwith like certainty from their supposed causes.Some events are found, in all countries andall ages, to have been constantly conjoined to-gether: Others are found to have been morevariable, and sometimes to disappoint our ex-pectations; so that, in our reasonings concern-ing matter of fact, there are all imaginable de-grees of assurance, from the highest certaintyto the lowest species of moral evidence.

A wise man, therefore, proportions his be-lief to the evidence. In such conclusions as arefounded on an infallible experience, he expectsthe event with the last degree of assurance, and

256

PART I

regards his past experience as a full proof of thefuture existence of that event. In other cases,he proceeds with more caution: He weighs theopposite experiments: He considers which sideis supported by the greater number of experi-ments: to that side he inclines, with doubt andhesitation; and when at last he fixes his judge-ment, the evidence exceeds not what we prop-erly call probability. All probability, then, sup-poses an opposition of experiments and obser-vations, where the one side is found to overbal-ance the other, and to produce a degree of evi-dence, proportioned to the superiority. A hun-dred instances or experiments on one side, andfifty on another, afford a doubtful expectationof any event; though a hundred uniform exper-iments, with only one that is contradictory, rea-sonably beget a pretty strong degree of assur-ance. In all cases, we must balance the oppo-

257

PART I

site experiments, where they are opposite, anddeduct the smaller number from the greater, inorder to know the exact force of the superiorevidence.

88. To apply these principles to a particu-lar instance; we may observe, that there is nospecies of reasoning more common, more use-ful, and even necessary to human life, than thatwhich is derived from the testimony of men,and the reports of eye-witnesses and specta-tors. This species of reasoning, perhaps, onemay deny to be founded on the relation ofcause and effect. I shall not dispute about aword. It will be sufficient to observe that ourassurance in any argument of this kind is de-rived from no other principle than our obser-vation of the veracity of human testimony, andof the usual conformity of facts to the reports

258

PART I

of witnesses. It being a general maxim, thatno objects have any discoverable connexion to-gether, and that all the inferences, which wecan draw from one to another, are foundedmerely on our experience of their constant andregular conjunction; it is evident, that we oughtnot to make an exception to this maxim infavour of human testimony, whose connexionwith any event seems, in itself, as little neces-sary as any other. Were not the memory tena-cious to a certain degree, had not men com-monly an inclination to truth and a principle ofprobity; were they not sensible to shame, whendetected in a falsehood: Were not these, I say,discovered by experience to be qualities, inher-ent in human nature, we should never reposethe least confidence in human testimony. Aman delirious, or noted for falsehood and vil-lany, has no manner of authority with us.

259

PART I

And as the evidence, derived from witnessesand human testimony, is founded on past ex-perience, so it varies with the experience, andis regarded either as a proof or a probability, ac-cording as the conjunction between any partic-ular kind of report and any kind of object hasbeen found to be constant or variable. Thereare a number of circumstances to be taken intoconsideration in all judgements of this kind;and the ultimate standard, by which we de-termine all disputes, that may arise concerningthem, is always derived from experience andobservation. Where this experience is not en-tirely uniform on any side, it is attended withan unavoidable contrariety in our judgements,and with the same opposition and mutual de-struction of argument as in every other kindof evidence. We frequently hesitate concerningthe reports of others. We balance the opposite

260

PART I

circumstances, which cause any doubt or un-certainty; and when we discover a superiorityon any side, we incline to it; but still with adiminution of assurance, in proportion to theforce of its antagonist.

89. This contrariety of evidence, in thepresent case, may be derived from several dif-ferent causes; from the opposition of contrarytestimony; from the character or number of thewitnesses; from the manner of their deliveringtheir testimony; or from the union of all thesecircumstances. We entertain a suspicion con-cerning any matter of fact, when the witnessescontradict each other; when they are but few,or of a doubtful character; when they have aninterest in what they affirm; when they delivertheir testimony with hesitation, or on the con-trary, with too violent asseverations. There are

261

PART I

many other particulars of the same kind, whichmay diminish or destroy the force of any argu-ment, derived from human testimony.

Suppose, for instance, that the fact, whichthe testimony endeavours to establish, par-takes of the extraordinary and the marvellous;in that case, the evidence, resulting from thetestimony, admits of a diminution, greater orless, in proportion as the fact is more or less un-usual. The reason why we place any credit inwitnesses and historians, is not derived fromany connexion, which we perceive a priori, be-tween testimony and reality, but because weare accustomed to find a conformity betweenthem. But when the fact attested is such a oneas has seldom fallen under our observation,here is a contest of two opposite experiences;of which the one destroys the other, as far as

262

PART I

its force goes, and the superior can only oper-ate on the mind by the force, which remains.The very same principle of experience, whichgives us a certain degree of assurance in the tes-timony of witnesses, gives us also, in this case,another degree of assurance against the fact,which they endeavour to establish; from whichcontradition there necessarily arises a counter-poize, and mutual destruction of belief and au-thority.

I should not believe such a story were it toldme by Cato, was a proverbial saying in Rome,even during the lifetime of that philosophicalpatriot.20 The incredibility of a fact, it was al-lowed, might invalidate so great an authority.

The Indian prince, who refused to believe

20Plutarch, in vita Catonis.

263

PART I

the first relations concerning the effects of frost,reasoned justly; and it naturally required verystrong testimony to engage his assent to facts,that arose from a state of nature, with whichhe was unacquainted, and which bore so littleanalogy to those events, of which he had hadconstant and uniform experience. Though theywere not contrary to his experience, they werenot conformable to it.21

21No Indian, it is evident, could have experience thatwater did not freeze in cold climates. This is placingnature in a situation quite unknown to him; and it isimpossible for him to tell a priori what will result fromit. It is making a new experiment, the consequence ofwhich is always uncertain. One may sometimes con-jecture from analogy what will follow; but still this isbut conjecture. And it must be confessed, that, in thepresent case of freezing, the event follows contrary tothe rules of analogy, and is such as a rational Indianwould not look for. The operations of cold upon wa-

264

PART I

90. But in order to encrease the probabilityagainst the testimony of witnesses, let us sup-pose, that the fact, which they affirm, insteadof being only marvellous, is really miraculous;and suppose also, that the testimony consid-ered apart and in itself, amounts to an entire

ter are not gradual, according to the degrees of cold;but whenever it comes to the freezing point, the waterpasses in a moment, from the utmost liquidity to per-fect hardness. Such an event, therefore, may be denom-inated extraordinary, and requires a pretty strong testi-mony, to render it credible to people in a warm climate:But still it is not miraculous, nor contrary to uniform ex-perience of the course of nature in cases where all thecircumstances are the same. The inhabitants of Suma-tra have always seen water fluid in their own climate,and the freezing of their rivers ought to be deemed aprodigy: But they never saw water in Muscovy duringthe winter; and therefore they cannot reasonably be pos-itive what would there be the consequence.

265

PART I

proof; in that case, there is proof against proof,of which the strongest must prevail, but stillwith a diminution of its force, in proportion tothat of its antagonist.

A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature;and as a firm and unalterable experience hasestablished these laws, the proof against a mir-acle, from the very nature of the fact, is as entireas any argument from experience can possiblybe imagined. Why is it more than probable,that all men must die; that lead cannot, of itself,remain suspended in the air; that fire consumeswood, and is extinguished by water; unless itbe, that these events are found agreeable to thelaws of nature, and there is required a viola-tion of these laws, or in other words, a miracleto prevent them? Nothing is esteemed a mir-acle, if it ever happen in the common course

266

PART I

of nature. It is no miracle that a man, seem-ingly in good health, should die on a sudden:because such a kind of death, though more un-usual than any other, has yet been frequentlyobserved to happen. But it is a miracle, thata dead man should come to life; because thathas never been observed in any age or country.There must, therefore, be a uniform experienceagainst every miraculous event, otherwise theevent would not merit that appellation. And asa uniform experience amounts to a proof, thereis here a direct and full proof, from the natureof the fact, against the existence of any miracle;nor can such a proof be destroyed, or the mira-cle rendered credible, but by an opposite proof,which is superior.22

22Sometimes an event may not, in itself, seem to becontrary to the laws of nature, and yet, if it were real,

267

PART I

it might, by reason of some circumstances, be denomi-nated a miracle; because, in fact, it is contrary to theselaws. Thus if a person, claiming a divine authority,should command a sick person to be well, a health-ful man to fall down dead, the clouds to pour rain,the winds to blow, in short, should order many naturalevents, which immediately follow upon his command;these might justly be esteemed miracles, because theyare really, in this case, contrary to the laws of nature. Forif any suspicion remain, that the event and commandconcurred by accident, there is no miracle and no trans-gression of the laws of nature. If this suspicion be re-moved, there is evidently a miracle, and a transgressionof these laws; because nothing can be more contrary tonature than that the voice or command of a man shouldhave such an influence. A miracle may be accuratelydefined, a transgression of a law of nature by a particularvolition of the Deity, or by the interposition of some invisibleagent. A miracle may either be discoverable by men ornot. This alters not its nature and essence. The raisingof a house or ship into the air is a visible miracle. Theraising of a feather, when the wind wants ever so little

268

PART I

91. The plain consequence is (and it is ageneral maxim worthy of our attention), ‘Thatno testimony is sufficient to establish a mir-acle, unless the testimony be of such a kind,that its falsehood would be more miraculous,than the fact, which it endeavours to establish;and even in that case there is a mutual de-struction of arguments, and the superior onlygives us an assurance suitable to that degreeof force, which remains, after deducting the in-ferior.’ When anyone tells me, that he saw adead man restored to life, I immediately con-sider with myself, whether it be more proba-ble, that this person should either deceive orbe deceived, or that the fact, which he relates,should really have happened. I weigh the one

of a force requisite for that purpose, is as real a miracle,though not so sensible with regard to us.

269

PART I

miracle against the other; and according to thesuperiority, which I discover, I pronounce mydecision, and always reject the greater mira-cle. If the falsehood of his testimony would bemore miraculous, than the event which he re-lates; then, and not till then, can he pretend tocommand my belief or opinion.

270

PART II

92. In the foregoing reasoning we have sup-posed, that the testimony, upon which a mira-cle is founded, may possibly amount to an en-tire proof, and that the falsehood of that testi-mony would be a real prodigy: But it is easy toshew, that we have been a great deal too liberalin our concession, and that there never was amiraculous event established on so full an evi-dence.

For first, there is not to be found, in all his-tory, any miracle attested by a sufficient num-ber of men, of such unquestioned good-sense,education, and learning, as to secure us againstall delusion in themselves; of such undoubtedintegrity, as to place them beyond all suspicionof any design to deceive others; of such credit

271

PART II

and reputation in the eyes of mankind, as tohave a great deal to lose in case of their be-ing detected in any falsehood; and at the sametime, attesting facts performed in such a pub-lic manner and in so celebrated a part of theworld, as to render the detection unavoidable:All which circumstances are requisite to give usa full assurance in the testimony of men.

93. Secondly. We may observe in human na-ture a principle which, if strictly examined, willbe found to diminish extremely the assurance,which we might, from human testimony, have,in any kind of prodigy. The maxim, by whichwe commonly conduct ourselves in our reason-ings, is, that the objects, of which we have noexperience, resembles those, of which we have;that what we have found to be most usual is al-ways most probable; and that where there is an

272

PART II

opposition of arguments, we ought to give thepreference to such as are founded on the great-est number of past observations. But though,in proceeding by this rule, we readily rejectany fact which is unusual and incredible in anordinary degree; yet in advancing farther, themind observes not always the same rule; butwhen anything is affirmed utterly absurd andmiraculous, it rather the more readily admits ofsuch a fact, upon account of that very circum-stance, which ought to destroy all its author-ity. The passion of surprise and wonder, aris-ing from miracles, being an agreeable emotion,gives a sensible tendency towards the belief ofthose events, from which it is derived. Andthis goes so far, that even those who cannot en-joy this pleasure immediately, nor can believethose miraculous events, of which they are in-formed, yet love to partake of the satisfaction at

273

PART II

second-hand or by rebound, and place a prideand delight in exciting the admiration of oth-ers.

With what greediness are the miraculous ac-counts of travellers received, their descriptionsof sea and land monsters, their relations ofwonderful adventures, strange men, and un-couth manners? But if the spirit of religionjoin itself to the love of wonder, there is anend of common sense; and human testimony,in these circumstances, loses all pretensions toauthority. A religionist may be an enthusi-ast, and imagine he sees what has no reality:he may know his narrative to be false, andyet persevere in it, with the best intentions inthe world, for the sake of promoting so holya cause: or even where this delusion has notplace, vanity, excited by so strong a tempta-

274

PART II

tion, operates on him more powerfully than onthe rest of mankind in any other circumstances;and self-interest with equal force. His audi-tors may not have, and commonly have not,sufficient judgement to canvass his evidence:what judgement they have, they renounce byprinciple, in these sublime and mysterious sub-jects: or if they were ever so willing to employit, passion and a heated imagination disturbthe regularity of its operations. Their credulityincreases his impudence: and his impudenceoverpowers their credulity.

Eloquence, when at its highest pitch, leaveslittle room for reason or reflection; but ad-dressing itself entirely to the fancy or the affec-tions, captivates the willing hearers, and sub-dues their understanding. Happily, this pitchit seldom attains. But what a Tully or a De-

275

PART II

mosthenes could scarcely effect over a Romanor Athenian audience, every Capuchin, everyitinerant or stationary teacher can perform overthe generality of mankind, and in a higher de-gree, by touching such gross and vulgar pas-sions.

The many instances of forged miracles, andprophecies, and supernatural events, which,in all ages, have either been detected by con-trary evidence, or which detect themselves bytheir absurdity, prove sufficiently the strongpropensity of mankind to the extraordinaryand the marvellous, and ought reasonably tobeget a suspicion against all relations of thiskind. This is our natural way of thinking,even with regard to the most common andmost credible events. For instance: There isno kind of report which rises so easily, and

276

PART II

spreads so quickly, especially in country placesand provincial towns, as those concerning mar-riages; insomuch that two young persons ofequal condition never see each other twice,but the whole neighbourhood immediately jointhem together. The pleasure of telling a pieceof news so interesting, of propagating it, andof being the first reporters of it, spreads the in-telligence. And this is so well known, that noman of sense gives attention to these reports,till he find them confirmed by some greater ev-idence. Do not the same passions, and othersstill stronger, incline the generality of mankindto believe and report, with the greatest vehe-mence and assurance, all religious miracles?

94. Thirdly. It forms a strong presumptionagainst all supernatural and miraculous rela-tions, that they are observed chiefly to abound

277

PART II

among ignorant and barbarous nations; or ifa civilized people has ever given admission toany of them, that people will be found to havereceived them from ignorant and barbarous an-cestors, who transmitted them with that invi-olable sanction and authority, which alwaysattend received opinions. When we perusethe first histories of all nations, we are apt toimagine ourselves transported into some newworld; where the whole frame of nature is dis-jointed, and every element performs its opera-tions in a different manner, from what it does atpresent. Battles, revolutions, pestilence, famineand death, are never the effect of those nat-ural causes, which we experience. Prodigies,omens, oracles, judgements, quite obscure thefew natural events, that are intermingled withthem. But as the former grow thinner everypage, in proportion as we advance nearer the

278

PART II

enlightened ages, we soon learn, that there isnothing mysterious or supernatural in the case,but that all proceeds from the usual propensityof mankind towards the marvellous, and that,though this inclination may at intervals receivea check from sense and learning, it can neverbe thoroughly extirpated from human nature.

It is strange, a judicious reader is apt to say,upon the perusal of these wonderful histori-ans, that such prodigious events never happen inour days. But it is nothing strange, I hope, thatmen should lie in all ages. You must surelyhave seen instances enough of that frailty. Youhave yourself heard many such marvellous re-lations started, which, being treated with scornby all the wise and judicious, have at last beenabandoned even by the vulgar. Be assured, thatthose renowned lies, which have spread and

279

PART II

flourished to such a monstrous height, arosefrom like beginnings; but being sown in a moreproper soil, shot up at last into prodigies al-most equal to those which they relate.

It was a wise policy in that false prophet,Alexander, who though now forgotten, wasonce so famous, to lay the first scene of his im-postures in Paphlagonia, where, as Lucian tellsus, the people were extremely ignorant andstupid, and ready to swallow even the gross-est delusion. People at a distance, who areweak enough to think the matter at all worthenquiry, have no opportunity of receiving bet-ter information. The stories come magnified tothem by a hundred circumstances. Fools are in-dustrious in propagating the imposture; whilethe wise and learned are contented, in gen-eral, to deride its absurdity, without informing

280

PART II

themselves of the particular facts, by which itmay be distinctly refuted. And thus the im-postor above mentioned was enabled to pro-ceed, from his ignorant Paphlagonians, to theenlisting of votaries, even among the Grecianphilosophers, and men of the most eminentrank and distinction in Rome: nay, could en-gage the attention of that sage emperor Mar-cus Aurelius; so far as to make him trust thesuccess of a military expedition to his delusiveprophecies.

The advantages are so great, of starting animposture among an ignorant people, that,even though the delusion should be too grossto impose on the generality of them (which,though seldom, is sometimes the case) it has amuch better chance for succeeding in remotecountries, than if the first scene had been laid

281

PART II

in a city renowned for arts and knowledge. Themost ignorant and barbarous of these barbar-ians carry the report abroad. None of theircountrymen have a large correspondence, orsufficient credit and authority to contradict andbeat down the delusion. Men’s inclinationto the marvellous has full opportunity to dis-play itself. And thus a story, which is univer-sally exploded in the place where it was firststarted, shall pass for certain at a thousandmiles distance. But had Alexander fixed hisresidence at Athens, the philosophers of thatrenowned mart of learning had immediatelyspread, throughout the whole Roman empire,their sense of the matter; which, being sup-ported by so great authority, and displayed byall the force of reason and eloquence, had en-tirely opened the eyes of mankind. It is true;Lucian, passing by chance through Paphlag-

282

PART II

onia, had an opportunity of performing thisgood office. But, though much to be wished,it does not always happen, that every Alexan-der meets with a Lucian, ready to expose anddetect his impostures.

95. I may add as a fourth reason, which di-minishes the authority of prodigies, that thereis no testimony for any, even those which havenot been expressly detected, that is not op-posed by an infinite number of witnesses; sothat not only the miracle destroys the creditof testimony, but the testimony destroys itself.To make this the better understood, let us con-sider, that, in matters of religion, whatever isdifferent is contrary; and that it is impossi-ble the religions of ancient Rome, of Turkey,of Siam, and of China should, all of them,be established on any solid foundation. Ev-

283

PART II

ery miracle, therefore, pretended to have beenwrought in any of these religions (and all ofthem abound in miracles), as its direct scopeis to establish the particular system to whichit is attributed; so has it the same force, thoughmore indirectly, to overthrow every other sys-tem. In destroying a rival system, it likewisedestroys the credit of those miracles, on whichthat system was established; so that all theprodigies of different religions are to be re-garded as contrary facts, and the evidences ofthese prodigies, whether weak or strong, as op-posite to each other. According to this methodof reasoning, when we believe any miracle ofMahomet or his successors, we have for ourwarrant the testimony of a few barbarous Ara-bians: And on the other hand, we are to regardthe authority of Titus Livius, Plutarch, Tacitus,and, in short, of all the authors and witnesses,

284

PART II

Grecian, Chinese, and Roman Catholic, whohave related any miracle in their particular re-ligion; I say, we are to regard their testimonyin the same light as if they had mentioned thatMahometan miracle, and had in express termscontradicted it, with the same certainty as theyhave for the miracle they relate. This argu-ment may appear over subtile and refined; butis not in reality different from the reasoning of ajudge, who supposes, that the credit of two wit-nesses, maintaining a crime against any one, isdestroyed by the testimony of two others, whoaffirm him to have been two hundred leaguesdistant, at the same instant when the crime issaid to have been committed.

96. One of the best attested miracles in allprofane history, is that which Tacitus reports ofVespasian, who cured a blind man in Alexan-

285

PART II

dria, by means of his spittle, and a lame manby the mere touch of his foot; in obedienceto a vision of the god Serapis, who had en-joined them to have recourse to the Emperor,for these miraculous cures. The story may beseen in that fine historian23; where every cir-cumstance seems to add weight to the testi-mony, and might be displayed at large withall the force of argument and eloquence, if anyone were now concerned to enforce the evi-dence of that exploded and idolatrous super-stition. The gravity, solidity, age, and probityof so great an emperor, who, through the wholecourse of his life, conversed in a familiar man-ner with his friends and courtiers, and neveraffected those extraordinary airs of divinity as-

23Hist. lib. iv. cap. 81. Suetonius gives nearly thesame account in vita Vesp.

286

PART II

sumed by Alexander and Demetrius. The his-torian, a cotemporary writer, noted for candourand veracity, and withal, the greatest and mostpenetrating genius, perhaps, of all antiquity;and so free from any tendency to credulity, thathe even lies under the contrary imputation, ofatheism and profaneness: The persons, fromwhose authority he related the miracle, of es-tablished character for judgement and verac-ity, as we may well presume; eye-witnesses ofthe fact, and confirming their testimony, afterthe Flavian family was despoiled of the em-pire, and could no longer give any reward,as the price of a lie. Utrumque, qui interfuere,nunc quoque memorant, postquam nullum menda-cio pretium. To which if we add the public na-ture of the facts, as related, it will appear, thatno evidence can well be supposed stronger forso gross and so palpable a falsehood.

287

PART II

There is also a memorable story related byCardinal de Retz, which may well deserve ourconsideration. When that intriguing politicianfled into Spain, to avoid the persecution of hisenemies, he passed through Saragossa, the cap-ital of Arragon, where he was shewn, in thecathedral, a man, who had served seven yearsas a door-keeper, and was well known to ev-ery body in town, that had ever paid his de-votions at that church. He had been seen, forso long a time, wanting a leg; but recoveredthat limb by the rubbing of holy oil upon thestump; and the cardinal assures us that he sawhim with two legs. This miracle was vouchedby all the canons of the church; and the wholecompany in town were appealed to for a con-firmation of the fact; whom the cardinal found,by their zealous devotion, to be thorough be-lievers of the miracle. Here the relater was also

288

PART II

cotemporary to the supposed prodigy, of an in-credulous and libertine character, as well as ofgreat genius; the miracle of so singular a na-ture as could scarcely admit of a counterfeit,and the witnesses very numerous, and all ofthem, in a manner, spectators of the fact, towhich they gave their testimony. And whatadds mightily to the force of the evidence, andmay double our surprise on this occasion, is,that the cardinal himself, who relates the story,seems not to give any credit to it, and con-sequently cannot be suspected of any concur-rence in the holy fraud. He considered justly,that it was not requisite, in order to reject afact of this nature, to be able accurately to dis-prove the testimony, and to trace its falsehood,through all the circumstances of knavery andcredulity which produced it. He knew, that,as this was commonly altogether impossible at

289

PART II

any small distance of time and place; so was itextremely difficult, even where one was imme-diately present, by reason of the bigotry, igno-rance, cunning, and roguery of a great part ofmankind. He therefore concluded, like a justreasoner, that such an evidence carried false-hood upon the very face of it, and that a mir-acle, supported by any human testimony, wasmore properly a subject of derision than of ar-gument.

There surely never was a greater number ofmiracles ascribed to one person, than those,which were lately said to have been wroughtin France upon the tomb of Abbé Paris, the fa-mous Jansenist, with whose sanctity the peo-ple were so long deluded. The curing of thesick, giving hearing to the deaf, and sight tothe blind, were every where talked of as the

290

PART II

usual effects of that holy sepulchre. But whatis more extraordinary; many of the miracleswere immediately proved upon the spot, be-fore judges of unquestioned integrity, attestedby witnesses of credit and distinction, in alearned age, and on the most eminent theatrethat is now in the world. Nor is this all: arelation of them was published and dispersedevery where; nor were the Jesuits, though alearned body, supported by the civil magis-trate, and determined enemies to those opin-ions, in whose favour the miracles were said tohave been wrought, ever able distinctly to re-fute or detect them24. Where shall we find such

24This book was writ by Mons. Montgeron, counsel-lor or judge of the parliament of Paris, a man of figureand character, who was also a martyr to the cause, andis now said to be somewhere in a dungeon on accountof his book.

291

PART II

a number of circumstances, agreeing to the cor-roboration of one fact? And what have we tooppose to such a cloud of witnesses, but theabsolute impossibility or miraculous nature ofthe events, which they relate? And this surely,in the eyes of all reasonable people, will alonebe regarded as a sufficient refutation.

There is another book in three volumes(called Recueil des Miracles de l’Abbé Paris) giv-ing an account of many of these miracles, andaccompanied with prefatory discourses, whichare very well written. There runs, however,through the whole of these a ridiculous com-parison between the miracles of our Saviourand those of the Abbé; wherein it is asserted,that the evidence for the latter is equal to thatfor the former: As if the testimony of mencould ever be put in the balance with that of

292

PART II

God himself, who conducted the pen of the in-spired writers. If these writers, indeed, wereto be considered merely as human testimony,the French author is very moderate in his com-parison; since he might, with some appearanceof reason, pretend, that the Jansenist miraclesmuch surpass the other in evidence and au-thority. The following circumstances are drawnfrom authentic papers, inserted in the above-mentioned book.

Many of the miracles of Abbé Paris wereproved immediately by witnesses before the of-ficiality or bishop’s court at Paris, under theeye of cardinal Noailles, whose character for in-tegrity and capacity was never contested evenby his enemies.

His successor in the archbishopric was anenemy to the Jansenists, and for that reason

293

PART II

promoted to the see by the court. Yet 22 rec-tors or curés of Paris, with infinite earnestness,press him to examine those miracles, whichthey assert to be known to the whole world,and undisputably certain: But he wisely for-bore.

The Molinist party had tried to discreditthese miracles in one instance, that of Made-moiselle le Franc. But, besides that their pro-ceedings were in many respects the most irreg-ular in the world, particularly in citing only afew of the Jansenist witnesses, whom they tam-pered with: Besides this, I say, they soon foundthemselves overwhelmed by a cloud of newwitnesses, one hundred and twenty in num-ber, most of them persons of credit and sub-stance in Paris, who gave oath for the mira-cle. This was accompanied with a solemn and

294

PART II

earnest appeal to the parliament. But the par-liament were forbidden by authority to meddlein the affair. It was at last observed, that wheremen are heated by zeal and enthusiasm, thereis no degree of human testimony so strong asmay not be procured for the greatest absurdity:And those who will be so silly as to examinethe affair by that medium, and seek particu-lar flaws in the testimony, are almost sure to beconfounded. It must be a miserable imposture,indeed, that does not prevail in that contest.

All who have been in France about that timehave heard of the reputation of Mons. Her-aut, the lieutenant de Police, whose vigilance,penetration, activity, and extensive intelligencehave been much talked of. This magistrate,who by the nature of his office is almost ab-solute, was vested with full powers, on pur-

295

PART II

pose to suppress or discredit these miracles;and he frequently seized immediately, and ex-amined the witnesses and subjects of them:But never could reach any thing satisfactoryagainst them.

In the case of Mademoiselle Thibaut he sentthe famous De Sylva to examine her; whose ev-idence is very curious. The physician declares,that it was impossible she could have been soill as was proved by witnesses; because it wasimpossible she could, in so short a time, haverecovered so perfectly as he found her. He rea-soned, like a man of sense, from natural causes;but the opposite party told him, that the wholewas a miracle, and that his evidence was thevery best proof of it.

The Molinists were in a sad dilemma. Theydurst not assert the absolute insufficiency of

296

PART II

human evidence, to prove a miracle. Theywere obliged to say, that these miracles werewrought by witchcraft and the devil. But theywere told, that this was the resource of the Jewsof old.

No Jansenist was ever embarrassed to ac-count for the cessation of the miracles, whenthe church-yard was shut up by the king’sedict. It was the touch of the tomb, which pro-duced these extraordinary effects; and when noone could approach the tomb, no effects couldbe expected. God, indeed, could have throwndown the walls in a moment; but he is mas-ter of his own graces and works, and it belongsnot to us to account for them. He did not throwdown the walls of every city like those of Jeri-cho, on the sounding of the rams horns, norbreak up the prison of every apostle, like that

297

PART II

of St. Paul.

No less a man, than the Due de Chatillon, aduke and peer of France, of the highest rankand family, gives evidence of a miraculouscure, performed upon a servant of his, who hadlived several years in his house with a visibleand palpable infirmity. I shall conclude withobserving, that no clergy are more celebratedfor strictness of life and manners than the sec-ular clergy of France, particularly the rectors orcurés of Paris, who bear testimony to these im-postures. The learning, genius, and probity ofthe gentlemen, and the austerity of the nunsof Port-Royal, have been much celebrated allover Europe. Yet they all give evidence for amiracle, wrought on the niece of the famousPascal, whose sanctity of life, as well as ex-traordinary capacity, is well known. The fa-

298

PART II

mous Racine gives an account of this miraclein his famous history of Port-Royal, and for-tifies it with all the proofs, which a multitudeof nuns, priests, physicians, and men of theworld, all of them of undoubted credit, couldbestow upon it. Several men of letters, particu-larly the bishop of Tournay, thought this mira-cle so certain, as to employ it in the refutation ofatheists and free-thinkers. The queen-regent ofFrance, who was extremely prejudiced againstthe Port-Royal, sent her own physician to ex-amine the miracle, who returned an absoluteconvert. In short, the supernatural cure was souncontestable, that it saved, for a time, that fa-mous monastery from the ruin with which itwas threatened by the Jesuits. Had it been acheat, it had certainly been detected by suchsagacious and powerful antagonists, and musthave hastened the ruin of the contrivers. Our

299

PART II

divines, who can build up a formidable castlefrom such despicable materials; what a prodi-gious fabric could they have reared from theseand many other circumstances, which I havenot mentioned! How often would the greatnames of Pascal, Racine, Amaud, Nicole, haveresounded in our ears? But if they be wise, theyhad better adopt the miracle, as being moreworth, a thousand times, than all the rest ofthe collection. Besides, it may serve very muchto their purpose. For that miracle was reallyperformed by the touch of an authentic holyprickle of the holy thorn, which composed theholy crown, which, &c.

97. Is the consequence just, because somehuman testimony has the utmost force and au-thority in some cases, when it relates the bat-tle of Philippi or Pharsalia for instance; that

300

PART II

therefore all kinds of testimony must, in allcases, have equal force and authority? Sup-pose that the Caesarean and Pompeian factionshad, each of them, claimed the victory in thesebattles, and that the historians of each partyhad uniformly ascribed the advantage to theirown side; how could mankind, at this distance,have been able to determine between them?The contrariety is equally strong between themiracles related by Herodotus or Plutarch,and those delivered by Mariana, Bede, or anymonkish historian.

The wise lend a very academic faith to ev-ery report which favours the passion of the re-porter; whether it magnifies his country, hisfamily, or himself, or in any other way strikesin with his natural inclinations and propensi-ties. But what greater temptation than to ap-

301

PART II

pear a missionary, a prophet, an ambassadorfrom heaven? Who would not encounter manydangers and difficulties, in order to attain sosublime a character? Or if, by the help of vanityand a heated imagination, a man has first madea convert of himself, and entered seriously intothe delusion; who ever scruples to make use ofpious frauds, in support of so holy and merito-rious a cause?

The smallest spark may here kindle into thegreatest flame; because the materials are al-ways prepared for it. The avidum genus auricu-larum25, the gazing populace, receive greedily,without examination, whatever sooths super-stition, and promotes wonder.

How many stories of this nature have, in all

25Lucret.

302

PART II

ages, been detected and exploded in their in-fancy? How many more have been celebratedfor a time, and have afterwards sunk into ne-glect and oblivion? Where such reports, there-fore, fly about, the solution of the phenomenonis obvious; and we judge in conformity to reg-ular experience and observation, when we ac-count for it by the known and natural princi-ples of credulity and delusion. And shall we,rather than have a recourse to so natural a so-lution, allow of a miraculous violation of themost established laws of nature?

I need not mention the difficulty of detectinga falsehood in any private or even public his-tory, at the place, where it is said to happen;much more when the scene is removed to everso small a distance. Even a court of judicature,with all the authority, accuracy, and judgement,

303

PART II

which they can employ, find themselves oftenat a loss to distinguish between truth and false-hood in the most recent actions. But the matternever comes to any issue, if trusted to the com-mon method of altercations and debate and fly-ing rumours; especially when men’s passionshave taken part on either side.

In the infancy of new religions, the wise andlearned commonly esteem the matter too in-considerable to deserve their attention or re-gard. And when afterwards they would will-ingly detect the cheat, in order to undeceive thedeluded multitude, the season is now past, andthe records and witnesses, which might clearup the matter, have perished beyond recovery.

No means of detection remain, but thosewhich must be drawn from the very testimonyitself of the reporters: and these, though always

304

PART II

sufficient with the judicious and knowing, arecommonly too fine to fall under the compre-hension of the vulgar.

98. Upon the whole, then, it appears, thatno testimony for any kind of miracle has everamounted to a probability, much less to a proof;and that, even supposing it amounted to aproof, it would be opposed by another proof;derived from the very nature of the fact, whichit would endeavour to establish. It is experi-ence only, which gives authority to human tes-timony; and it is the same experience, whichassures us of the laws of nature. When, there-fore, these two kinds of experience are contrary,we have nothing to do but substract the onefrom the other, and embrace an opinion, eitheron one side or the other, with that assurancewhich arises from the remainder. But accord-

305

PART II

ing to the principle here explained, this sub-straction, with regard to all popular religions,amounts to an entire annihilation; and there-fore we may establish it as a maxim, that no hu-man testimony can have such force as to provea miracle, and make it a just foundation for anysuch system of religion.

99. I beg the limitations here made may beremarked, when I say, that a miracle can neverbe proved, so as to be the foundation of a sys-tem of religion. For I own, that otherwise, theremay possibly be miracles, or violations of theusual course of nature, of such a kind as to ad-mit of proof from human testimony; though,perhaps, it will be impossible to find any suchin all the records of history. Thus, suppose, allauthors, in all languages, agree, that, from thefirst of January 1600, there was a total darkness

306

PART II

over the whole earth for eight days: supposethat the tradition of this extraordinary event isstill strong and lively among the people: thatall travellers, who return from foreign coun-tries, bring us accounts of the same tradition,without the least variation or contradiction: itis evident, that our present philosophers, in-stead of doubting the fact, ought to receive itas certain, and ought to search for the causeswhence it might be derived. The decay, cor-ruption, and dissolution of nature, is an eventrendered probable by so many analogies, thatany phenomenon, which seems to have a ten-dency towards that catastrophe, comes withinthe reach of human testimony, if that testimonybe very extensive and uniform.

But suppose, that all the historians who treatof England, should agree, that, on the first

307

PART II

of January 1600, Queen Elizabeth died; thatboth before and after her death she was seenby her physicians and the whole court, as isusual with persons of her rank; that her suc-cessor was acknowledged and proclaimed bythe parliament; and that, after being interreda month, she again appeared, resumed thethrone, and governed England for three years:I must confess that I should be surprised at theconcurrence of so many odd circumstances, butshould not have the least inclination to believeso miraculous an event. I should not doubt ofher pretended death, and of those other publiccircumstances that followed it: I should onlyassert it to have been pretended, and that itneither was, nor possibly could be real. Youwould in vain object to me the difficulty, andalmost impossibility of deceiving the world inan affair of such consequence; the wisdom and

308

PART II

solid judgement of that renowned queen; withthe little or no advantage which she could reapfrom so poor an artifice: All this might aston-ish me; but I would still reply, that the knaveryand folly of men are such common phenomena,that I should rather believe the most extraor-dinary events to arise from their concurrence,than admit of so signal a violation of the lawsof nature.

But should this miracle be ascribed to anynew system of religion; men, in all ages, havebeen so much imposed on by ridiculous storiesof that kind, that this very circumstance wouldbe a full proof of a cheat, and sufficient, withall men of sense, not only to make them re-ject the fact, but even reject it without fartherexamination. Though the Being to whom themiracle is ascribed, be, in this case, Almighty,

309

PART II

it does not, upon that account, become a whitmore probable; since it is impossible for us toknow the attributes or actions of such a Being,otherwise than from the experience which wehave of his productions, in the usual course ofnature. This still reduces us to past observa-tion, and obliges us to compare the instances ofthe violation of truth in the testimony of men,with those of the violation of the laws of natureby miracles, in order to judge which of themis most likely and probable. As the violationsof truth are more common in the testimonyconcerning religious miracles, than in that con-cerning any other matter of fact; this must di-minish very much the authority of the formertestimony, and make us form a general reso-lution, never to lend any attention to it, withwhatever specious pretence it may be covered.

310

PART II

Lord Bacon seems to have embraced thesame principles of reasoning. ‘We ought,’ sayshe, ‘to make a collection or particular history ofall monsters and prodigious births or produc-tions, and in a word of every thing new, rare,and extraordinary in nature. But this must bedone with the most severe scrutiny, lest we de-part from truth. Above all, every relation mustbe considered as suspicious, which dependsin any degree upon religion, as the prodigiesof Livy: And no less so, every thing that isto be found in the writers of natural magicor alchimy, or such authors, who seem, all ofthem, to have an unconquerable appetite forfalsehood and fable26.’

100. I am the better pleased with the methodof reasoning here delivered, as I think it may

26Nov. Org. lib. ii. aph. 29.

311

PART II

serve to confound those dangerous friends ordisguised enemies to the Christian Religion,who have undertaken to defend it by the prin-ciples of human reason. Our most holy reli-gion is founded on Faith, not on reason; andit is a sure method of exposing it to put it tosuch a trial as it is, by no means, fitted to en-dure. To make this more evident, let us exam-ine those miracles, related in scripture; and notto lose ourselves in too wide a field, let us con-fine ourselves to such as we find in the Penta-teuch, which we shall examine, according to theprinciples of these pretended Christians, notas the word or testimony of God himself, butas the production of a mere human writer andhistorian. Here then we are first to consider abook, presented to us by a barbarous and igno-rant people, written in an age when they werestill more barbarous, and in all probability long

312

PART II

after the facts which it relates, corroborated byno concurring testimony, and resembling thosefabulous accounts, which every nation gives ofits origin. Upon reading this book, we find itfull of prodigies and miracles. It gives an ac-count of a state of the world and of human na-ture entirely different from the present: Of ourfall from that state: Of the age of man, extendedto near a thousand years: Of the destruction ofthe world by a deluge: Of the arbitrary choiceof one people, as the favourites of heaven; andthat people the countrymen of the author: Oftheir deliverance from bondage by prodigiesthe most astonishing imaginable: I desire anyone to lay his hand upon his heart, and af-ter a serious consideration declare, whether hethinks that the falsehood of such a book, sup-ported by such a testimony, would be more ex-traordinary and miraculous than all the mira-

313

PART II

cles it relates; which is, however, necessary tomake it be received, according to the measuresof probability above established.

101. What we have said of miracles may beapplied, without any variation, to prophecies;and indeed, all prophecies are real miracles,and as such only, can be admitted as proofs ofany revelation. If it did not exceed the capac-ity of human nature to foretell future events, itwould be absurd to employ any prophecy asan argument for a divine mission or authorityfrom heaven. So that, upon the whole, we mayconclude, that the Christian Religion not onlywas at first attended with miracles, but even atthis day cannot be believed by any reasonableperson without one. Mere reason is insufficientto convince us of its veracity: And whoever ismoved by Faith to assent to it, is conscious of

314

PART II

a continued miracle in his own person, whichsubverts all the principles of his understand-ing, and gives him a determination to believewhat is most contrary to custom and experi-ence.

315

SECTION XI

OF A PARTICULARPROVIDENCE AND OF A

FUTURE STATE

102. I was lately engaged in conversationwith a friend who loves sceptical paradoxes;

where, though he advanced many principles,of which I can by no means approve, yet as theyseem to be curious, and to bear some relationto the chain of reasoning carried on through-out this enquiry, I shall here copy them frommy memory as accurately as I can, in order tosubmit them to the judgement of the reader.

Our conversation began with my admir-ing the singular good fortune of philosophy,which, as it requires entire liberty above allother privileges, and chiefly flourishes fromthe free opposition of sentiments and argumen-tation, received its first birth in an age andcountry of freedom and toleration, and wasnever cramped, even in its most extravagantprinciples, by any creeds, concessions, or pe-nal statutes. For, except the banishment ofProtagoras, and the death of Socrates, which

317

last event proceeded partly from other mo-tives, there are scarcely any instances to be metwith, in ancient history, of this bigotted jeal-ousy, with which the present age is so muchinfested. Epicurus lived at Athens to an ad-vanced age, in peace and tranquillity: Epicure-ans27 were even admitted to receive the sacer-dotal character, and to officiate at the altar, inthe most sacred rites of the established religion:And the public encouragement28 of pensionsand salaries was afforded equally, by the wis-est of all the Roman emperors29, to the profes-sors of every sect of philosophy. How requi-site such kind of treatment was to philosophy,in her early youth, will easily be conceived, if

27Luciani [Greek: symp. ae Lapithai.28Luciani eunouchoc.29Luciani and Dio.

318

we reflect, that, even at present, when she maybe supposed more hardy and robust, she bearswith much difficulty the inclemency of the sea-sons, and those harsh winds of calumny andpersecution, which blow upon her.

You admire, says my friend, as the singulargood fortune of philosophy, what seems to re-sult from the natural course of things, and tobe unavoidable in every age and nation. Thispertinacious bigotry, of which you complain,as so fatal to philosophy, is really her offspring,who, after allying with superstition, separateshimself entirely from the interest of his parent,and becomes her most inveterate enemy andpersecutor. Speculative dogmas of religion,the present occasions of such furious dispute,could not possibly be conceived or admitted inthe early ages of the world; when mankind,

319

being wholly illiterate, formed an idea of re-ligion more suitable to their weak apprehen-sion, and composed their sacred tenets of suchtales chiefly as were the objects of traditionalbelief, more than of argument or disputation.After the first alarm, therefore, was over, whicharose from the new paradoxes and principlesof the philosophers; these teachers seem everafter, during the ages of antiquity, to have livedin great harmony with the established super-stition, and to have made a fair partition ofmankind between them; the former claimingall the learned and wise, the latter possessingall the vulgar and illiterate.

103. It seems then, say I, that you leavepolitics entirely out of the question, and neversuppose, that a wise magistrate can justly bejealous of certain tenets of philosophy, such as

320

those of Epicurus, which, denying a divine ex-istence, and consequently a providence and afuture state, seem to loosen, in a great measure,the ties of morality, and may be supposed, forthat reason, pernicious to the peace of civil so-ciety.

I know, replied he, that in fact these per-secutions never, in any age, proceeded fromcalm reason, or from experience of the perni-cious consequences of philosophy; but aroseentirely from passion and prejudice. But whatif I should advance farther, and assert, that ifEpicurus had been accused before the people,by any of the sycophants or informers of thosedays, he could easily have defended his cause,and proved his principles of philosophy to beas salutary as those of his adversaries, who en-deavoured, with such zeal, to expose him to the

321

public hatred and jealousy?I wish, said I, you would try your eloquence

upon so extraordinary a topic, and make aspeech for Epicurus, which might satisfy, notthe mob of Athens, if you will allow that an-cient and polite city to have contained anymob, but the more philosophical part of his au-dience, such as might be supposed capable ofcomprehending his arguments.

The matter would not be difficult, upon suchconditions, replied he: And if you please, Ishall suppose myself Epicurus for a moment,and make you stand for the Athenian people,and shall deliver you such an harangue as willfill all the urn with white beans, and leave nota black one to gratify the malice of my adver-saries.

Very well: Pray proceed upon these supposi-

322

tions.

104. I come hither, O ye Athenians, to jus-tify in your assembly what I maintained inmy school, and I find myself impeached byfurious antagonists, instead of reasoning withcalm and dispassionate enquirers. Your de-liberations, which of right should be directedto questions of public good, and the interestof the commonwealth, are diverted to the dis-quisitions of speculative philosophy; and thesemagnificent, but perhaps fruitless enquiries,take place of your more familiar but more use-ful occupations. But so far as in me lies, Iwill prevent this abuse. We shall not here dis-pute concerning the origin and government ofworlds. We shall only enquire how far suchquestions concern the public interest. And ifI can persuade you, that they are entirely in-

323

different to the peace of society and securityof government, I hope that you will presentlysend us back to our schools, there to examine,at leisure, the question the most sublime, but atthe same time, the most speculative of all phi-losophy.

The religious philosophers, not satisfiedwith the tradition of your forefathers, and doc-trine of your priests (in which I willingly ac-quiesce), indulge a rash curiosity, in trying howfar they can establish religion upon the princi-ples of reason; and they thereby excite, insteadof satisfying, the doubts, which naturally arisefrom a diligent and scrutinous enquiry. Theypaint, in the most magnificent colours, the or-der, beauty, and wise arrangement of the uni-verse; and then ask, if such a glorious displayof intelligence could proceed from the fortu-

324

itous concourse of atoms, or if chance couldproduce what the greatest genius can neversufficiently admire. I shall not examine the just-ness of this argument. I shall allow it to be assolid as my antagonists and accusers can de-sire. It is sufficient, if I can prove, from this veryreasoning, that the question is entirely specula-tive, and that, when, in my philosophical dis-quisitions, I deny a providence and a futurestate, I undermine not the foundations of soci-ety, but advance principles, which they them-selves, upon their own topics, if they argueconsistently, must allow to be solid and satis-factory.

105. You then, who are my accusers, have ac-knowledged, that the chief or sole argument fora divine existence (which I never questioned) isderived from the order of nature; where there

325

appear such marks of intelligence and design,that you think it extravagant to assign for itscause, either chance, or the blind and unguidedforce of matter. You allow, that this is an argu-ment drawn from effects to causes. From theorder of the work, you infer, that there musthave been project and forethought in the work-man. If you cannot make out this point, youallow, that your conclusion fails; and you pre-tend not to establish the conclusion in a greaterlatitude than the phenomena of nature will jus-tify. These are your concessions. I desire you tomark the consequences.

When we infer any particular cause froman effect, we must proportion the one to theother, and can never be allowed to ascribe tothe cause any qualities, but what are exactlysufficient to produce the effect. A body of ten

326

ounces raised in any scale may serve as a proof,that the counterbalancing weight exceeds tenounces; but can never afford a reason that itexceeds a hundred. If the cause, assigned forany effect, be not sufficient to produce it, wemust either reject that cause, or add to it suchqualities as will give it a just proportion to theeffect. But if we ascribe to it farther qualities,or affirm it capable of producing other effects,we can only indulge the licence of conjecture,and arbitrarily suppose the existence of quali-ties and energies, without reason or authority.

The same rule holds, whether the cause as-signed be brute unconscious matter, or a ra-tional intelligent being. If the cause be knownonly by the effect, we never ought to ascribe toit any qualities, beyond what are precisely req-uisite to produce the effect: Nor can we, by any

327

rules of just reasoning, return back from thecause, and infer other effects from it, beyondthose by which alone it is known to us. Noone, merely from the sight of one of Zeuxis’spictures, could know, that he was also a statu-ary or architect, and was an artist no less skil-ful in stone and marble than in colours. Thetalents and taste, displayed in the particularwork before us; these we may safely concludethe workman to be possessed of. The causemust be proportioned to the effect; and if weexactly and precisely proportion it, we shallnever find in it any qualities, that point farther,or afford an inference concerning any other de-sign or performance. Such qualities must besomewhat beyond what is merely requisite forproducing the effect, which we examine.

106. Allowing, therefore, the gods to be the

328

authors of the existence or order of the uni-verse; it follows, that they possess that precisedegree of power, intelligence, and benevolence,which appears in their workmanship; but noth-ing farther can ever be proved, except we callin the assistance of exaggeration and flattery tosupply the defects of argument and reasoning.So far as the traces of any attributes, at present,appear, so far may we conclude these attributesto exist. The supposition of farther attributesis mere hypothesis; much more the supposi-tion, that, in distant regions of space or peri-ods of time, there has been, or will be, a moremagnificent display of these attributes, and ascheme of administration more suitable to suchimaginary virtues. We can never be allowedto mount up from the universe, the effect, toJupiter, the cause; and then descend down-wards, to infer any new effect from that cause;

329

as if the present effects alone were not entirelyworthy of the glorious attributes, which we as-cribe to that deity. The knowledge of the causebeing derived solely from the effect, they mustbe exactly adjusted to each other; and the onecan never refer to anything farther, or be thefoundation of any new inference and conclu-sion.

You find certain phenomena in nature. Youseek a cause or author. You imagine that youhave found him. You afterwards become so en-amoured of this offspring of your brain, thatyou imagine it impossible, but he must pro-duce something greater and more perfect thanthe present scene of things, which is so full ofill and disorder. You forget, that this superla-tive intelligence and benevolence are entirelyimaginary, or, at least, without any foundation

330

in reason; and that you have no ground to as-cribe to him any qualities, but what you see hehas actually exerted and displayed in his pro-ductions. Let your gods, therefore, O philoso-phers, be suited to the present appearances ofnature: and presume not to alter these appear-ances by arbitrary suppositions, in order to suitthem to the attributes, which you so fondly as-cribe to your deities.

107. When priests and poets, supported byyour authority, O Athenians, talk of a goldenor silver age, which preceded the present stateof vice and misery, I hear them with attentionand with reverence. But when philosophers,who pretend to neglect authority, and to cul-tivate reason, hold the same discourse, I paythem not, I own, the same obsequious sub-mission and pious deference. I ask; who car-

331

ried them into the celestial regions, who ad-mitted them into the councils of the gods, whoopened to them the book of fate, that theythus rashly affirm, that their deities have ex-ecuted, or will execute, any purpose beyondwhat has actually appeared? If they tell me,that they have mounted on the steps or bythe gradual ascent of reason, and by draw-ing inferences from effects to causes, I still in-sist, that they have aided the ascent of reasonby the wings of imagination; otherwise theycould not thus change their manner of infer-ence, and argue from causes to effects; presum-ing, that a more perfect production than thepresent world would be more suitable to suchperfect beings as the gods, and forgetting thatthey have no reason to ascribe to these celes-tial beings any perfection or any attribute, butwhat can be found in the present world.

332

Hence all the fruitless industry to account forthe ill appearances of nature, and save the hon-our of the gods; while we must acknowledgethe reality of that evil and disorder, with whichthe world so much abounds. The obstinate andintractable qualities of matter, we are told, orthe observance of general laws, or some suchreason, is the sole cause, which controlled thepower and benevolence of Jupiter, and obligedhim to create mankind and every sensible crea-ture so imperfect and so unhappy. These at-tributes then, are, it seems, beforehand, takenfor granted, in their greatest latitude. Andupon that supposition, I own that such conjec-tures may, perhaps, be admitted as plausiblesolutions of the ill phenomena. But still I ask;Why take these attributes for granted, or whyascribe to the cause any qualities but what ac-tually appear in the effect? Why torture your

333

brain to justify the course of nature upon sup-positions, which, for aught you know, may beentirely imaginary, and of which there are to befound no traces in the course of nature?

The religious hypothesis, therefore, must beconsidered only as a particular method of ac-counting for the visible phenomena of the uni-verse: but no just reasoner will ever presumeto infer from it any single fact, and alter oradd to the phenomena, in any single partic-ular. If you think, that the appearances ofthings prove such causes, it is allowable foryou to draw an inference concerning the ex-istence of these causes. In such complicatedand sublime subjects, every one should be in-dulged in the liberty of conjecture and argu-ment. But here you ought to rest. If youcome backward, and arguing from your in-

334

ferred causes, conclude, that any other fact hasexisted, or will exist, in the course of nature,which may serve as a fuller display of partic-ular attributes; I must admonish you, that youhave departed from the method of reasoning,attached to the present subject, and have cer-tainly added something to the attributes of thecause, beyond what appears in the effect; oth-erwise you could never, with tolerable sense orpropriety, add anything to the effect, in orderto render it more worthy of the cause.

108. Where, then, is the odiousness of thatdoctrine, which I teach in my school, or rather,which I examine in my gardens? Or what doyou find in this whole question, wherein the se-curity of good morals, or the peace and order ofsociety, is in the least concerned?

I deny a providence, you say, and supreme

335

governor of the world, who guides the courseof events, and punishes the vicious with in-famy and disappointment, and rewards the vir-tuous with honour and success, in all their un-dertakings. But surely, I deny not the courseitself of events, which lies open to every one’sinquiry and examination. I acknowledge, that,in the present order of things, virtue is at-tended with more peace of mind than vice, andmeets with a more favourable reception fromthe world. I am sensible, that, according tothe past experience of mankind, friendship isthe chief joy of human life, and moderationthe only source of tranquillity and happiness.I never balance between the virtuous and thevicious course of life; but am sensible, that, toa well-disposed mind, every advantage is onthe side of the former. And what can you saymore, allowing all your suppositions and rea-

336

sonings? You tell me, indeed, that this dispo-sition of things proceeds from intelligence anddesign. But whatever it proceeds from, the dis-position itself, on which depends our happi-ness or misery, and consequently our conductand deportment in life is still the same. It isstill open for me, as well as you, to regulatemy behaviour, by my experience of past events.And if you affirm, that, while a divine provi-dence is allowed, and a supreme distributivejustice in the universe, I ought to expect somemore particular reward of the good, and pun-ishment of the bad, beyond the ordinary courseof events; I here find the same fallacy, which Ihave before endeavoured to detect. You persistin imagining, that, if we grant that divine exis-tence, for which you so earnestly contend, youmay safely infer consequences from it, and addsomething to the experienced order of nature,

337

by arguing from the attributes which you as-cribe to your gods. You seem not to remember,that all your reasonings on this subject can onlybe drawn from effects to causes; and that ev-ery argument, deducted from causes to effects,must of necessity be a gross sophism; since itis impossible for you to know anything of thecause, but what you have antecedently, not in-ferred, but discovered to the full, in the effect.

109. But what must a philosopher think ofthose vain reasoners, who, instead of regard-ing the present scene of things as the sole objectof their contemplation, so far reverse the wholecourse of nature, as to render this life merelya passage to something farther; a porch, whichleads to a greater, and vastly different building;a prologue, which serves only to introduce thepiece, and give it more grace and propriety?

338

Whence, do you think, can such philosophersderive their idea of the gods? From their ownconceit and imagination surely. For if they de-rived it from the present phenomena, it wouldnever point to anything farther, but must be ex-actly adjusted to them. That the divinity maypossibly be endowed with attributes, which wehave never seen exerted; may be governed byprinciples of action, which we cannot discoverto be satisfied: all this will freely be allowed.But still this is mere possibility and hypothe-sis. We never can have reason to infer any at-tributes, or any principles of action in him, butso far as we know them to have been exertedand satisfied.

Are there any marks of a distributive justice inthe world? If you answer in the affirmative, Iconclude, that, since justice here exerts itself, it

339

is satisfied. If you reply in the negative, I con-clude, that you have then no reason to ascribejustice, in our sense of it, to the gods. If youhold a medium between affirmation and nega-tion, by saying, that the justice of the gods, atpresent, exerts itself in part, but not in its fullextent; I answer, that you have no reason togive it any particular extent, but only so far asyou see it, at present, exert itself.

110. Thus I bring the dispute, O Atheni-ans, to a short issue with my antagonists. Thecourse of nature lies open to my contemplationas well as to theirs. The experienced train ofevents is the great standard, by which we allregulate our conduct. Nothing else can be ap-pealed to in the field, or in the senate. Noth-ing else ought ever to be heard of in the school,or in the closet. In vain would our limited un-

340

derstanding break through those boundaries,which are too narrow for our fond imagination.While we argue from the course of nature, andinfer a particular intelligent cause, which firstbestowed, and still preserves order in the uni-verse, we embrace a principle, which is bothuncertain and useless. It is uncertain; becausethe subject lies entirely beyond the reach ofhuman experience. It is useless; because ourknowledge of this cause being derived entirelyfrom the course of nature, we can never, ac-cording to the rules of just reasoning, returnback from the cause with any new inference, ormaking additions to the common and experi-enced course of nature, establish any new prin-ciples of conduct and behaviour.

111. I observe (said I, finding he had fin-ished his harangue) that you neglect not the

341

artifice of the demagogues of old; and as youwere pleased to make me stand for the people,you insinuate yourself into my favour by em-bracing those principles, to which, you know,I have always expressed a particular attach-ment. But allowing you to make experience(as indeed I think you ought) the only stan-dard of our judgement concerning this, and allother questions of fact; I doubt not but, fromthe very same experience, to which you ap-peal, it may be possible to refute this reason-ing, which you have put into the mouth of Epi-curus. If you saw, for instance, a half-finishedbuilding, surrounded with heaps of brick andstone and mortar, and all the instruments ofmasonry; could you not infer from the effect,that it was a work of design and contrivance?And could you not return again, from this in-ferred cause, to infer new additions to the ef-

342

fect, and conclude, that the building wouldsoon be finished, and receive all the further im-provements, which art could bestow upon it?If you saw upon the sea-shore the print of onehuman foot, you would conclude, that a manhad passed that way, and that he had also leftthe traces of the other foot, though effaced bythe rolling of the sands or inundation of the wa-ters. Why then do you refuse to admit the samemethod of reasoning with regard to the orderof nature? Consider the world and the presentlife only as an imperfect building, from whichyou can infer a superior intelligence; and argu-ing from that superior intelligence, which canleave nothing imperfect; why may you not in-fer a more finished scheme or plan, which willreceive its completion in some distant point ofspace or time? Are not these methods of rea-soning exactly similar? And under what pre-

343

tence can you embrace the one, while you rejectthe other?

112. The infinite difference of the subjects,replied he, is a sufficient foundation for thisdifference in my conclusions. In works of hu-man art and contrivance, it is allowable to ad-vance from the effect to the cause, and return-ing back from the cause, to form new infer-ences concerning the effect, and examine thealterations, which it has probably undergone,or may still undergo. But what is the founda-tion of this method of reasoning? Plainly this;that man is a being, whom we know by expe-rience, whose motives and designs we are ac-quainted with, and whose projects and inclina-tions have a certain connexion and coherence,according to the laws which nature has estab-lished for the government of such a creature.

344

When, therefore, we find, that any work hasproceeded from the skill and industry of man;as we are otherwise acquainted with the natureof the animal, we can draw a hundred infer-ences concerning what may be expected fromhim; and these inferences will all be founded inexperience and observation. But did we knowman only from the single work or productionwhich we examine, it were impossible for us toargue in this manner; because our knowledgeof all the qualities, which we ascribe to him, be-ing in that case derived from the production, itis impossible they could point to anything far-ther, or be the foundation of any new inference.The print of a foot in 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 human foot proves likewise,from our other experience, that there was prob-

345

ably another foot, which also left its impres-sion, though effaced by time or other accidents.Here we mount from the effect to the cause;and descending again from the cause, infer al-terations in the effect; but this is not a continua-tion of the same simple chain of reasoning. Wecomprehend in this case a hundred other expe-riences and observations, concerning the usualfigure and members of that species of animal,without which this method of argument mustbe considered as fallacious and sophistical.

113. The case is not the same with our rea-sonings from the works of nature. The De-ity is known to us only by his productions,and is a single being in the universe, not com-prehended under any species or genus, fromwhose experienced attributes or qualities, wecan, by analogy, infer any attribute or quality

346

in him. As the universe shews wisdom andgoodness, we infer wisdom and goodness. Asit shews a particular degree of these perfec-tions, we infer a particular degree of them, pre-cisely adapted to the effect which we examine.But farther attributes or farther degrees of thesame attributes, we can never be authorised toinfer or suppose, by any rules of just reason-ing. Now, without some such licence of suppo-sition, it is impossible for us to argue from thecause, or infer any alteration in the effect, be-yond what has immediately fallen under ourobservation. Greater good produced by thisBeing must still prove a greater degree of good-ness: a more impartial distribution of rewardsand punishments must proceed from a greaterregard to justice and equity. Every supposedaddition to the works of nature makes an ad-dition to the attributes of the Author of nature;

347

and consequently, being entirely unsupportedby any reason or argument, can never be ad-mitted but as mere conjecture and hypothesis30

30In general, it may, I think, be established as amaxim, that where any cause is known only by its par-ticular effects, it must be impossible to infer any neweffects from that cause; since the qualities, which arerequisite to produce these new effects along with theformer, must either be different, or superior, or of moreextensive operation, than those which simply producedthe effect, whence alone the cause is supposed to beknown to us. We can never, therefore, have any rea-son to suppose the existence of these qualities. To say,that the new effects proceed only from a continuationof the same energy, which is already known from thefirst effects, will not remove the difficulty. For evengranting this to be the case (which can seldom be sup-posed), the very continuation and exertion of a like en-ergy (for it is impossible it can be absolutely the same),I say, this exertion of a like energy, in a different periodof space and time, is a very arbitrary supposition, and

348

The great source of our mistake in this sub-ject, and of the unbounded licence of conjec-ture, which we indulge, is, that we tacitly con-sider ourselves, as in the place of the SupremeBeing, and conclude, that he will, on every oc-casion, observe the same conduct, which weourselves, in his situation, would have em-braced as reasonable and eligible. But, besidesthat the ordinary course of nature may con-vince us, that almost everything is regulatedby principles and maxims very different fromours; besides this, I say, it must evidently ap-pear contrary to all rules of analogy to rea-

what there cannot possibly be any traces of in the effects,from which all our knowledge of the cause is originallyderived. Let the inferred cause be exactly proportioned(as it should be) to the known effect; and it is impossi-ble that it can possess any qualities, from which new ordifferent effects can be inferred.

349

son, from the intentions and projects of men,to those of a Being so different, and so muchsuperior. In human nature, there is a certainexperienced coherence of designs and inclina-tions; so that when, from any fact, we havediscovered one intention of any man, it mayoften be reasonable, from experience, to inferanother, and draw a long chain of conclusionsconcerning his past or future conduct. But thismethod of reasoning can never have place withregard to a Being, so remote and incomprehen-sible, who bears much less analogy to any otherbeing in the universe than the sun to a waxentaper, and who discovers himself only by somefaint traces or outlines, beyond which we haveno authority to ascribe to him any attribute orperfection. What we imagine to be a superiorperfection, may really be a defect. Or wereit ever so much a perfection, the ascribing of

350

it to the Supreme Being, where it appears notto have been really exerted, to the full, in hisworks, savours more of flattery and panegyric,than of just reasoning and sound philosophy.All the philosophy, therefore, in the world, andall the religion, which is nothing but a speciesof philosophy, will never be able to carry us be-yond the usual course of experience, or give usmeasures of conduct and behaviour differentfrom those which are furnished by reflectionson common life. No new fact can ever be in-ferred from the religious hypothesis; no eventforeseen or foretold; no reward or punishmentexpected or dreaded, beyond what is alreadyknown by practice and observation. So that myapology for Epicurus will still appear solid andsatisfactory; nor have the political interests ofsociety any connexion with the philosophicaldisputes concerning metaphysics and religion.

351

114. There is still one circumstance, replied I,which you seem to have overlooked. Though Ishould allow your premises, I must deny yourconclusion. You conclude, that religious doc-trines and reasonings can have no influence onlife, because they ought to have no influence;never considering, that men reason not in thesame manner you do, but draw many conse-quences from the belief of a divine Existence,and suppose that the Deity will inflict punish-ments on vice, and bestow rewards on virtue,beyond what appear in the ordinary course ofnature. Whether this reasoning of theirs be justor not, is no matter. Its influence on their lifeand conduct must still be the same. And, those,who attempt to disabuse them of such preju-dices, may, for aught I know, be good reason-ers, but I cannot allow them to be good citi-zens and politicians; since they free men from

352

one restraint upon their passions, and make theinfringement of the laws of society, in one re-spect, more easy and secure.

After all, I may, perhaps, agree to your gen-eral conclusion in favour of liberty, thoughupon different premises from those, on whichyou endeavour to found it. I think, that thestate ought to tolerate every principle of phi-losophy; nor is there an instance, that any gov-ernment has suffered in its political interestsby such indulgence. There is no enthusiasmamong philosophers; their doctrines are notvery alluring to the people; and no restraint canbe put upon their reasonings, but what must beof dangerous consequence to the sciences, andeven to the state, by paving the way for per-secution and oppression in points, where thegenerality of mankind are more deeply inter-

353

ested and concerned.

115. But there occurs to me (continued I)with regard to your main topic, a difficulty,which I shall just propose to you without in-sisting on it; lest it lead into reasonings of toonice and delicate a nature. In a word, I muchdoubt whether it be possible for a cause to beknown only by its effect (as you have all alongsupposed) or to be of so singular and particu-lar a nature as to have no parallel and no simi-larity with any other cause or object, that hasever fallen under our observation. It is onlywhen two species of objects are found to be con-stantly conjoined, that we can infer the onefrom the other; and were an effect presented,which was entirely singular, and could not becomprehended under any known species, I donot see, that we could form any conjecture or

354

inference at all concerning its cause. If experi-ence and observation and analogy be, indeed,the only guides which we can reasonably fol-low in inferences of this nature; both the effectand cause must bear a similarity and resem-blance to other effects and causes, which weknow, and which we have found, in many in-stances, to be conjoined with each other. I leaveit to your own reflection to pursue the conse-quences of this principle. I shall just observe,that, as the antagonists of Epicurus always sup-pose the universe, an effect quite singular andunparalleled, to be the proof of a Deity, a causeno less singular and unparalleled; your reason-ings, upon that supposition, seem, at least, tomerit our attention. There is, I own, some diffi-culty, how we can ever return from the cause tothe effect, and, reasoning from our ideas of theformer, infer any alteration on the latter, or any

355

addition to it.

356

SECTION XII

OF THE ACADEMICAL ORSCEPTICAL PHILOSOPHY

PART I

116. There is not a greater number of philo-sophical reasonings, displayed upon any sub-ject, than those, which prove the existence ofa Deity, and refute the fallacies of Atheists; andyet the most religious philosophers still disputewhether any man can be so blinded as to bea speculative atheist. How shall we reconcilethese contradictions? The knights-errant, whowandered about to clear the world of dragonsand giants, never entertained the least doubtwith regard to the existence of these monsters.

The Sceptic is another enemy of religion, whonaturally provokes the indignation of all di-vines and graver philosophers; though it is cer-tain, that no man ever met with any such ab-surd creature, or conversed with a man, who

358

PART I

had no opinion or principle concerning anysubject, either of action or speculation. Thisbegets a very natural question; What is meantby a sceptic? And how far it is possible to pushthese philosophical principles of doubt and un-certainty?

There is a species of scepticism, antecedentto all study and philosophy, which is muchinculcated by Des Cartes and others, as asovereign preservative against error and pre-cipitate judgement. It recommends an univer-sal doubt, not only of all our former opinionsand principles, but also of our very faculties; ofwhose veracity, say they, we must assure our-selves, by a chain of reasoning, deduced fromsome original principle, which cannot possiblybe fallacious or deceitful. But neither is thereany such original principle, which has a pre-

359

PART I

rogative above others, that are self-evident andconvincing: or if there were, could we advancea step beyond it, but by the use of those veryfaculties, of which we are supposed to be al-ready diffident. The Cartesian doubt, therefore,were it ever possible to be attained by any hu-man creature (as it plainly is not) would be en-tirely incurable; and no reasoning could everbring us to a state of assurance and convictionupon any subject.

It must, however, be confessed, that thisspecies of scepticism, when more moderate,may be understood in a very reasonable sense,and is a necessary preparative to the study ofphilosophy, by preserving a proper impartial-ity in our judgements, and weaning our mindfrom all those prejudices, which we may haveimbibed from education or rash opinion. To

360

PART I

begin with clear and self-evident principles, toadvance by timorous and sure steps, to reviewfrequently our conclusions, and examine accu-rately all their consequences; though by thesemeans we shall make both a slow and a shortprogress in our systems; are the only methods,by which we can ever hope to reach truth, andattain a proper stability and certainty in our de-terminations.

117. There is another species of scepticism,consequent to science and enquiry, when menare supposed to have discovered, either the ab-solute fallaciousness of their mental faculties,or their unfitness to reach any fixed determi-nation in all those curious subjects of specu-lation, about which they are commonly em-ployed. Even our very senses are brought intodispute, by a certain species of philosophers;

361

PART I

and the maxims of common life are subjectedto the same doubt as the most profound prin-ciples or conclusions of metaphysics and theol-ogy. As these paradoxical tenets (if they maybe called tenets) are to be met with in somephilosophers, and the refutation of them in sev-eral, they naturally excite our curiosity, andmake us enquire into the arguments, on whichthey may be founded.

I need not insist upon the more trite topics,employed by the sceptics in all ages, against theevidence of sense; such as those which are de-rived from the imperfection and fallaciousnessof our organs, on numberless occasions; thecrooked appearance of an oar in water; the var-ious aspects of objects, according to their dif-ferent distances; the double images which arisefrom the pressing one eye; with many other ap-

362

PART I

pearances of a like nature. These sceptical top-ics, indeed, are only sufficient to prove, that thesenses alone are not implicitly to be dependedon; but that we must correct their evidence byreason, and by considerations, derived fromthe nature of the medium, the distance of theobject, and the disposition of the organ, in or-der to render them, within their sphere, theproper criteria of truth and falsehood. Thereare other more profound arguments against thesenses, which admit not of so easy a solution.

118. It seems evident, that men are carried,by a natural instinct or prepossession, to re-pose faith in their senses; and that, withoutany reasoning, or even almost before the useof reason, we always suppose an external uni-verse, which depends not on our perception,but would exist, though we and every sensible

363

PART I

creature were absent or annihilated. Even theanimal creation are governed by a like opinion,and preserve this belief of external objects, inall their thoughts, designs, and actions.

It seems also evident, that, when men followthis blind and powerful instinct of nature, theyalways suppose the very images, presented bythe senses, to be the external objects, and neverentertain any suspicion, that the one are noth-ing but representations of the other. This verytable, which we see white, and which we feelhard, is believed to exist, independent of ourperception, and to be something external to ourmind, which perceives it. Our presence be-stows not being on it: our absence does notannihilate it. It preserves its existence uniformand entire, independent of the situation of in-telligent beings, who perceive or contemplate

364

PART I

it.

But this universal and primary opinion of allmen is soon destroyed by the slightest philoso-phy, which teaches us, that nothing can ever bepresent to the mind but an image or perception,and that the senses are only the inlets, throughwhich these images are conveyed, without be-ing able to produce any immediate intercoursebetween the mind and the object. The table,which we see, seems to diminish, as we re-move farther from it: but the real table, whichexists independent of us, suffers no alteration:it was, therefore, nothing but its image, whichwas present to the mind. These are the obviousdictates of reason; and no man, who reflects,ever doubted, that the existences, which weconsider, when we say, this house and that tree,are nothing but perceptions in the mind, and

365

PART I

fleeting copies or representations of other ex-istences, which remain uniform and indepen-dent.

119. So far, then, are we necessitated by rea-soning to contradict or depart from the primaryinstincts of nature, and to embrace a new sys-tem with regard to the evidence of our senses.But here philosophy finds herself extremelyembarrassed, when she would justify this newsystem, and obviate the cavils and objections ofthe sceptics. She can no longer plead the infal-lible and irresistible instinct of nature: for thatled us to a quite different system, which is ac-knowledged fallible and even erroneous. Andto justify this pretended philosophical system,by a chain of clear and convincing argument,or even any appearance of argument, exceedsthe power of all human capacity.

366

PART I

By what argument can it be proved, that theperceptions of the mind must be caused byexternal objects, entirely different from them,though resembling them (if that be possible)and could not arise either from the energy ofthe mind itself, or from the suggestion of someinvisible and unknown spirit, or from someother cause still more unknown to us? It is ac-knowledged, that, in fact, many of these per-ceptions arise not from anything external, asin dreams, madness, and other diseases. Andnothing can be more inexplicable than the man-ner, in which body should so operate uponmind as ever to convey an image of itself to asubstance, supposed of so different, and evencontrary a nature.

It is a question of fact, whether the percep-tions of the senses be produced by external ob-

367

PART I

jects, resembling them: how shall this questionbe determined? By experience surely; as allother questions of a like nature. But here ex-perience is, and must be entirely silent. Themind has never anything present to it but theperceptions, and cannot possibly reach any ex-perience of their connexion with objects. Thesupposition of such a connexion is, therefore,without any foundation in reasoning.

120. To have recourse to the veracity of thesupreme Being, in order to prove the veracityof our senses, is surely making a very unex-pected circuit. If his veracity were at all con-cerned in this matter, our senses would be en-tirely infallible; because it is not possible thathe can ever deceive. Not to mention, that, if theexternal world be once called in question, weshall be at a loss to find arguments, by which

368

PART I

we may prove the existence of that Being or anyof his attributes.

121. This is a topic, therefore, in whichthe profounder and more philosophical scep-tics will always triumph, when they endeavourto introduce an universal doubt into all sub-jects of human knowledge and enquiry. Doyou follow the instincts and propensities of na-ture, may they say, in assenting to the verac-ity of sense? But these lead you to believe thatthe very perception or sensible image is theexternal object. Do you disclaim this princi-ple, in order to embrace a more rational opin-ion, that the perceptions are only representa-tions of something external? You here departfrom your natural propensities and more obvi-ous sentiments; and yet are not able to satisfyyour reason, which can never find any convinc-

369

PART I

ing argument from experience to prove, thatthe perceptions are connected with any exter-nal objects.

122. There is another sceptical topic of a likenature, derived from the most profound phi-losophy; which might merit our attention, wereit requisite to dive so deep, in order to discoverarguments and reasonings, which can so littleserve to any serious purpose. It is universallyallowed by modern enquirers, that all the sen-sible qualities of objects, such as hard, soft, hot,cold, white, black, &c. are merely secondary,and exist not in the objects themselves, but areperceptions of the mind, without any externalarchetype or model, which they represent. Ifthis be allowed, with regard to secondary qual-ities, it must also follow, with regard to the sup-posed primary qualities of extension and solid-

370

PART I

ity; nor can the latter be any more entitled tothat denomination than the former. The idea ofextension is entirely acquired from the sensesof sight and feeling; and if all the qualities, per-ceived by the senses, be in the mind, not in theobject, the same conclusion must reach the ideaof extension, which is wholly dependent on thesensible ideas or the ideas of secondary quali-ties. Nothing can save us from this conclusion,but the asserting, that the ideas of those pri-mary qualities are attained by Abstraction, anopinion, which, if we examine it accurately, weshall find to be unintelligible, and even absurd.An extension, that is neither tangible nor visi-ble, cannot possibly be conceived: and a tangi-ble or visible extension, which is neither hardnor soft, black nor white, is equally beyond thereach of human conception. Let any man tryto conceive a triangle in general, which is nei-

371

PART I

ther Isosceles nor Scalenum, nor has any partic-ular length or proportion of sides; and he willsoon perceive the absurdity of all the scholasticnotions with regard to abstraction and generalideas.31

123. Thus the first philosophical objection tothe evidence of sense or to the opinion of exter-

31This argument is drawn from Dr. Berkeley; andindeed most of the writings of that very ingenious au-thor form the best lessons of scepticism, which are to befound either among the ancient or modern philosopher,Bayle not excepted. He professes, however, in his title-page (and undoubtedly with great truth) to have com-posed his book against the sceptics as well as against theatheists and free-thinkers. But that all his arguments,though otherwise intended, are, in reality, merely scep-tical, appears from this, that they admit of no answer andproduce no conviction. Their only effect is to cause thatmomentary amazement and irresolution and confusion,which is the result of scepticism.

372

PART I

nal existence consists in this, that such an opin-ion, if rested on natural instinct, is contrary toreason, and if referred to reason, is contrary tonatural instinct, and at the same time carriesno rational evidence with it, to convince an im-partial enquirer. The second objection goes far-ther, and represents this opinion as contrary toreason: at least, if it be a principle of reason,that all sensible qualities are in the mind, not inthe object. Bereave matter of all its intelligiblequalities, both primary and secondary, you ina manner annihilate it, and leave only a certainunknown, inexplicable something, as the causeof our perceptions; a notion so imperfect, thatno sceptic will think it worth while to contendagainst it.

373

PART II

124. It may seem a very extravagant attempt ofthe sceptics to destroy reason by argument andratiocination; yet is this the grand scope of alltheir enquiries and disputes. They endeavourto find objections, both to our abstract reason-ings, and to those which regard matter of factand existence.

The chief objection against all abstract rea-sonings is derived from the ideas of space andtime; ideas, which, in common life and to acareless view, are very clear and intelligible,but when they pass through the scrutiny of theprofound sciences (and they are the chief objectof these sciences) afford principles, which seemfull of absurdity and contradiction. No priestlydogmas, invented on purpose to tame and sub-

374

PART II

due the rebellious reason of mankind, evershocked common sense more than the doctrineof the infinitive divisibility of extension, withits consequences; as they are pompously dis-played by all geometricians and metaphysi-cians, with a kind of triumph and exultation.A real quantity, infinitely less than any finitequantity, containing quantities infinitely lessthan itself, and so on in infinitum; this is anedifice so bold and prodigious, that it is tooweighty for any pretended demonstration tosupport, because it shocks the clearest andmost natural principles of human reason.32 But

32Whatever disputes there may be about mathemati-cal points, we must allow that there are physical points;that is, parts of extension, which cannot be divided orlessened, either by the eye or imagination. These im-ages, then, which are present to the fancy or senses,are absolutely indivisible, and consequently must be al-

375

PART II

what renders the matter more extraordinary, is,that these seemingly absurd opinions are sup-ported by a chain of reasoning, the clearest andmost natural; nor is it possible for us to al-low the premises without admitting the con-sequences. Nothing can be more convincingand satisfactory than all the conclusions con-cerning the properties of circles and triangles;and yet, when these are once received, how canwe deny, that the angle of contact between acircle and its tangent is infinitely less than anyrectilineal angle, that as you may increase thediameter of the circle in infinitum, this angle

lowed by mathematicians to be infinitely less than anyreal part of extension; and yet nothing appears morecertain to reason, than that an infinite number of themcomposes an infinite extension. How much more an in-finite number of those infinitely small parts of extension,which are still supposed infinitely divisible.

376

PART II

of contact becomes still less, even in infinitum,and that the angle of contact between othercurves and their tangents may be infinitely lessthan those between any circle and its tangent,and so on, in infinitum? The demonstration ofthese principles seems as unexceptionable asthat which proves the three angles of a triangleto be equal to two right ones, though the lat-ter opinion be natural and easy, and the formerbig with contradiction and absurdity. Reasonhere seems to be thrown into a kind of amaze-ment and suspence, which, without the sug-gestions of any sceptic, gives her a diffidence ofherself, and of the ground on which she treads.She sees a full light, which illuminates certainplaces; but that light borders upon the mostprofound darkness. And between these she isso dazzled and confounded, that she scarcelycan pronounce with certainty and assurance

377

PART II

concerning any one object.

125. The absurdity of these bold determina-tions of the abstract sciences seems to become,if possible, still more palpable with regard totime than extension. An infinite number of realparts of time, passing in succession, and ex-hausted one after another, appears so evidenta contradiction, that no man, one should think,whose judgement is not corrupted, instead ofbeing improved, by the sciences, would ever beable to admit of it.

Yet still reason must remain restless, and un-quiet, even with regard to that scepticism, towhich she is driven by these seeming absurdi-ties and contradictions. How any clear, distinctidea can contain circumstances, contradictoryto itself, or to any other clear, distinct idea, isabsolutely incomprehensible; and is, perhaps,

378

PART II

as absurd as any proposition, which can beformed. So that nothing can be more scepti-cal, or more full of doubt and hesitation, thanthis scepticism itself, which arises from some ofthe paradoxical conclusions of geometry or thescience of quantity.33

33It seems to me not impossible to avoid these ab-surdities and contradictions, if it be admitted, that thereis no such thing as abstract or general ideas, properlyspeaking; but that all general ideas are, in reality, par-ticular ones, attached to a general term, which recalls,upon occasion, other particular ones, that resemble, incertain circumstances, the idea, present to the mind.Thus when the term Horse is pronounced, we imme-diately figure to ourselves the idea of a black or a whiteanimal, of a particular size or figure: But as that termis also usually applied to animals of other colours, fig-ures and sizes, these ideas, though not actually presentto the imagination, are easily recalled; and our reason-ing and conclusion proceed in the same way, as if they

379

PART II

126. The sceptical objections to moral evi-dence, or to the reasonings concerning matterof fact, are either popular or philosophical. Thepopular objections are derived from the naturalweakness of human understanding; the contra-dictory opinions, which have been entertainedin different ages and nations; the variations ofour judgement in sickness and health, youthand old age, prosperity and adversity; the per-petual contradiction of each particular man’s

were actually present. If this be admitted (as seems rea-sonable) it follows that all the ideas of quantity, uponwhich mathematicians reason, are nothing but particu-lar, and such as are suggested by the senses and imagi-nation, and consequently, cannot be infinitely divisible.It is sufficient to have dropped this hint at present, with-out prosecuting it any farther. It certainly concerns alllovers of science not to expose themselves to the ridiculeand contempt of the ignorant by their conclusions; andthis seems the readiest solution of these difficulties.

380

PART II

opinions and sentiments; with many other top-ics of that kind. It is needless to insist fartheron this head. These objections are but weak.For as, in common life, we reason every mo-ment concerning fact and existence, and can-not possibly subsist, without continually em-ploying this species of argument, any popularobjections, derived from thence, must be insuf-ficient to destroy that evidence. The great sub-verter of Pyrrhonism or the excessive principlesof scepticism is action, and employment, andthe occupations of common life. These princi-ples may flourish and triumph in the schools;where it is, indeed, difficult, if not impossible,to refute them. But as soon as they leave theshade, and by the presence of the real objects,which actuate our passions and sentiments, areput in opposition to the more powerful princi-ples of our nature, they vanish like smoke, and

381

PART II

leave the most determined sceptic in the samecondition as other mortals.

127. The sceptic, therefore, had better keepwithin his proper sphere, and display thosephilosophical objections, which arise from moreprofound researches. Here he seems to haveample matter of triumph; while he justly in-sists, that all our evidence for any matter offact, which lies beyond the testimony of senseor memory, is derived entirely from the rela-tion of cause and effect; that we have no otheridea of this 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, beenfrequently conjoined, will likewise, in other in-stances, be conjoined in the same manner; andthat nothing leads us to this inference but cus-

382

PART II

tom or a certain instinct of our nature; whichit is indeed difficult to resist, but which, likeother instincts, may be fallacious and deceit-ful. While the sceptic insists upon these topics,he shows his force, or rather, indeed, his ownand our weakness; and seems, for the time atleast, to destroy all assurance and conviction.These arguments might be displayed at greaterlength, if any durable good or benefit to societycould ever be expected to result from them.

128. For here is the chief and most con-founding objection to excessive scepticism, thatno durable good can ever result from it; whileit remains in its full force and vigour. Weneed only ask such a sceptic, What his mean-ing is? And what he proposes by all these cu-rious researches? He is immediately at a loss,and knows not what to answer. A Coperni-

383

PART II

can or Ptolemaic, who supports each his dif-ferent system of astronomy, may hope to pro-duce a conviction, which will remain constantand durable, with his audience. A Stoic orEpicurean displays principles, which may notbe durable, but which have an effect on con-duct and behaviour. But a Pyrrhonian can-not expect, that his philosophy will have anyconstant influence on the mind: or if it had,that its influence would be beneficial to soci-ety. On the contrary, he must acknowledge,if he will acknowledge anything, that all hu-man life must perish, were his principles uni-versally and steadily to prevail. All discourse,all action would immediately cease; and menremain in a total lethargy, till the necessities ofnature, unsatisfied, put an end to their miser-able existence. It is true; so fatal an event isvery little to be dreaded. Nature is always too

384

PART II

strong for principle. And though a Pyrrhonianmay throw himself or others into a momentaryamazement and confusion by his profound rea-sonings; the first and most trivial event in lifewill put to flight all his doubts and scruples,and leave him the same, in every point of ac-tion and speculation, with the philosophersof every other sect, or with those who neverconcerned themselves in any philosophical re-searches. When he awakes from his dream, hewill be the first to join in the laugh against him-self, and to confess, that all his objections aremere amusement, and can have no other ten-dency than to show the whimsical conditionof mankind, who must act and reason and be-lieve; though they are not able, by their mostdiligent enquiry, to satisfy themselves concern-ing the foundation of these operations, or toremove the objections, which may be raised

385

PART II

against them.

386

PART III

129. There is, indeed, a more mitigated scepti-cism or academical philosophy, which may beboth durable and useful, and which may, inpart, be the result of this Pyrrhonism, or ex-cessive scepticism, when its undistinguisheddoubts are, in some measure, corrected by com-mon sense and reflection. The greater part ofmankind are naturally apt to be affirmative anddogmatical in their opinions; and while theysee objects only on one side, and have no ideaof any counterpoising argument, they throwthemselves precipitately into the principles, towhich they are inclined; nor have they any in-dulgence for those who entertain opposite sen-timents. To hesitate or balance perplexes theirunderstanding, checks their passion, and sus-

387

PART III

pends their action. They are, therefore, impa-tient till they escape from a state, which to themis so uneasy: and they think, that they couldnever remove themselves far enough from it,by the violence of their affirmations and obsti-nacy of their belief. But could such dogmat-ical reasoners become sensible of the strangeinfirmities of human understanding, even inits most perfect state, and when most accu-rate and cautious in its determinations; sucha reflection would naturally inspire them withmore modesty and reserve, and diminish theirfond opinion of themselves, and their preju-dice against antagonists. The illiterate may re-flect on the disposition of the learned, who,amidst all the advantages of study and reflec-tion, are commonly still diffident in their de-terminations: and if any of the learned be in-clined, from their natural temper, to haughti-

388

PART III

ness and obstinacy, a small tincture of Pyrrhon-ism might abate their pride, by showing them,that the few advantages, which they may haveattained over their fellows, are but inconsider-able, if compared with the universal perplex-ity and confusion, which is inherent in humannature. In general, there is a degree of doubt,and caution, and modesty, which, in all kindsof scrutiny and decision, ought for ever to ac-company a just reasoner.

130. Another species of mitigated scepti-cism which may be of advantage to mankind,and which may be the natural result of thePyrrhonian doubts and scruples, is the limita-tion of our enquiries to such subjects as are bestadapted to the narrow capacity of human un-derstanding. The imagination of man is natu-rally sublime, delighted with whatever is re-

389

PART III

mote and extraordinary, and running, withoutcontrol, into the most distant parts of spaceand time in order to avoid the objects, whichcustom has rendered too familiar to it. A cor-rect Judgement observes a contrary method, andavoiding all distant and high enquiries, con-fines itself to common life, and to such sub-jects as fall under daily practice and experience;leaving the more sublime topics to the embel-lishment of poets and orators, or to the arts ofpriests and politicians. To bring us to so salu-tary a determination, nothing can be more ser-viceable, than to be once thoroughly convincedof the force of the Pyrrhonian doubt, and ofthe impossibility, that anything, but the strongpower of natural instinct, could free us fromit. Those who have a propensity to philoso-phy, will still continue their researches; becausethey reflect, that, besides the immediate plea-

390

PART III

sure, attending such an occupation, philosoph-ical decisions are nothing but the reflections ofcommon life, methodized and corrected. Butthey will never be tempted to go beyond com-mon life, so long as they consider the imper-fection of those faculties which they employ,their narrow reach, and their inaccurate oper-ations. While we cannot give a satisfactory rea-son, why we believe, after a thousand experi-ments, that a stone will fall, or fire burn; can weever satisfy ourselves concerning any determi-nation, which we may form, with regard to theorigin of worlds, and the situation of nature,from, and to eternity?

This narrow limitation, indeed, of our en-quiries, is, in every respect, so reasonable, thatit suffices to make the slightest examinationinto the natural powers of the human mind and

391

PART III

to compare them with their objects, in order torecommend it to us. We shall then find whatare the proper subjects of science and enquiry.

131. It seems to me, that the only objectsof the abstract science or of demonstration arequantity and number, and that all attempts toextend this more perfect species of knowledgebeyond these bounds are mere sophistry andillusion. As the component parts of quantityand number are entirely similar, their relationsbecome intricate and involved; and nothingcan be more curious, as well as useful, than totrace, by a variety of mediums, their equalityor inequality, through their different appear-ances. But as all other ideas are clearly distinctand different from each other, we can neveradvance farther, by our utmost scrutiny, thanto observe this diversity, and, by an obvious

392

PART III

reflection, pronounce one thing not to be an-other. Or if there be any difficulty in these de-cisions, it proceeds entirely from the undeter-minate meaning of words, which is correctedby juster definitions. That the square of the hy-pothenuse is equal to the squares of the other twosides, cannot be known, let the terms be everso exactly defined, without a train of reasoningand enquiry. But to convince us of this propo-sition, that where there is no property, there can beno injustice, it is only necessary to define theterms, and explain injustice to be a violationof property. This proposition is, indeed, noth-ing but a more imperfect definition. It is thesame case with all those pretended syllogisti-cal reasonings, which may be found in everyother branch of learning, except the sciences ofquantity and number; and these may safely, Ithink, be pronounced the only proper objects

393

PART III

of knowledge and demonstration.

132. All other enquiries of men regard onlymatter of fact and existence; and these are ev-idently incapable of demonstration. Whateveris may not be. No negation of a fact can involvea contradiction. The non-existence of any be-ing, without exception, is as clear and distinctan idea as its existence. The proposition, whichaffirms it not to be, however false, is no lessconceivable and intelligible, than that which af-firms it to be. The case is different with the sci-ences, properly so called. Every proposition,which is not true, is there confused and unintel-ligible. That the cube root of 64 is equal to thehalf of 10, is a false proposition, and can neverbe distinctly conceived. But that Caesar, or theangel Gabriel, or any being never existed, maybe a false proposition, but still is perfectly con-

394

PART III

ceivable, and implies no contradiction.

The existence, therefore, of any being canonly be proved by arguments from its causeor its effect; and these arguments are foundedentirely on experience. If we reason a pri-ori, anything may appear able to produce any-thing. The falling of a pebble may, for aughtwe know, extinguish the sun; or the wish ofa man control the planets in their orbits. It isonly experience, which teaches us the natureand bounds of cause and effect, and enables usto infer the existence of one object from that ofanother34. Such is the foundation of moral rea-

34That impious maxim of the ancient philosophy, Exnihilo, nihil fit, by which the creation of matter was ex-cluded, ceases to be a maxim, according to this philoso-phy. Not only the will of the supreme Being may creatematter; but, for aught we know a priori, the will of any

395

PART III

soning, which forms the greater part of humanknowledge, and is the source of all human ac-tion and behaviour.

Moral reasonings are either concerning par-ticular or general facts. All deliberations inlife regard the former; as also all disquisitionsin history, chronology, geography, and astron-omy.

The sciences, which treat of general facts, arepolitics, natural philosophy, physic, chemistry,&c. where the qualities, causes and effects of awhole species of objects are enquired into.

Divinity or Theology, as it proves the exis-tence of a Deity, and the immortality of souls, iscomposed partly of reasonings concerning par-ticular, partly concerning general facts. It has a

other being might create it, or any other cause, that themost whimsical imagination can assign.

396

PART III

foundation in reason, so far as it is supported byexperience. But its best and most solid founda-tion is faith and divine revelation.

Morals and criticism are not so properly ob-jects of the understanding as of taste and senti-ment. Beauty, whether moral or natural, is felt,more properly than perceived. Or if we rea-son concerning it, and endeavour to fix its stan-dard, we regard a new fact, to wit, the generaltastes of mankind, or some such fact, whichmay be the object of reasoning and enquiry.

When we run over libraries, persuaded ofthese principles, what havoc must we make?If we take in our hand any volume; of divinityor school metaphysics, for instance; let us ask,Does it contain any abstract reasoning concerningquantity or number? No. Does it contain any ex-perimental reasoning concerning matter of fact and

397

PART III

existence? No. Commit it then to the flames:for it can contain nothing but sophistry and il-lusion.

398