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    <h1>DAVID HUME</h1>
    <h1>AN ENQUIRY CONCERNING HUMAN UNDERSTANDING.</h1>
    <hr class="full" />

<h4>Extracted from:</h4>
<blockquote>
ENQUIRIES CONCERNING THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, AND CONCERNING THE
PRINCIPLES OF MORALS, BY DAVID HUME.<br />
<br />
REPRINTED FROM THE POSTHUMOUS EDITION OF 1777, AND EDITED WITH
INTRODUCTION, COMPARATIVE TABLES OF CONTENTS, AND ANALYTICAL INDEX
BY L.A. SELBY-BIGGE, M.A., LATE FELLOW OF UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, OXFORD.<br />
<br />
SECOND EDITION, 1902
</blockquote>

    <hr class="full" />
    <h2>CONTENTS</h2>
    <center>
      <a href="#section1">I. Of the Different Species of Philosophy</a><br />
      <a href="#section2">II. Of the Origin of Ideas</a><br />
      <a href="#section3">III. Of the Association of Ideas</a><br />
      <a href="#section4">IV. Sceptical Doubts Concerning the Operations of the
      Understanding</a><br />
      <a href="#section5">V. Sceptical Solution of these Doubts</a><br />
      <a href="#section6">VI. Of Probability</a><br />
      <a href="#section7">VII. Of the Idea of Necessary Connexion</a><br />
      <a href="#section8">VIII. Of Liberty and Necessity</a><br />
      <a href="#section9">IX. Of the Reason of Animals</a><br />
      <a href="#section10">X. Of Miracles</a><br />
      <a href="#section11">XI. Of a Particular Providence and of a Future State</a><br />
      <a href="#section12">XII. Of the Academical or Sceptical Philosophy</a><br />
      <br />
      <a href="#footnotes">Footnotes</a><br />
      <br />
      <a href="#index">Index</a><br />
    </center>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section1" name="section1">SECTION 1.</a></h2>
    <h3>OF THE DIFFERENT SPECIES OF PHILOSOPHY.</h3>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum1"
    name="mnum1">1.</a></span></span> Moral philosophy, or the science of human nature,
    may be treated after two different manners; each of which has its peculiar merit, and
    may contribute to the entertainment, instruction, and reformation of mankind. The one
    considers man chiefly as born for action; and as influenced in his measures by taste
    and sentiment; pursuing one object, and avoiding another, according to the value
    which these objects seem to possess, and according to the light in which they present
    themselves. As virtue, of all objects, is allowed to be the most valuable, this
    species of philosophers paint her in the most amiable colours; borrowing all helps
    from poetry and eloquence, and treating their subject in an easy and obvious manner,
    and such as is best fitted to please the imagination, and engage the affections. They
    select the most striking observations and instances from common life; place opposite
    characters in a proper contrast; and alluring us into the paths of virtue by the
    views of glory and happiness, direct our steps in these paths by the soundest
    precepts and most illustrious examples. They make us <i>feel</i> the difference
    between vice and virtue; they excite and regulate our sentiments; and so they can but
    bend our hearts to the love of probity and true honour, they think, that they have
    fully attained the end of all their labours.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum2"
    name="mnum2">2.</a></span></span> The other species of philosophers consider man in
    the light of a reasonable rather than an active being, and endeavour to form his
    understanding more than cultivate his manners. They regard human nature as a subject
    of speculation; and with a narrow scrutiny examine it, in order to find those
    principles, which regulate our understanding, excite our sentiments, and make us
    approve or blame any particular object, action, or behaviour. They think it a
    reproach to all literature, that philosophy should not yet have fixed, beyond
    controversy, the foundation of morals, reasoning, and criticism; and should for ever
    talk of truth and falsehood, vice and virtue, beauty and deformity, without being
    able to determine the source of these distinctions. While they attempt this arduous
    task, they are deterred by no difficulties; but proceeding from particular instances
    to general principles, they still push on their enquiries to principles more general,
    and rest not satisfied till they arrive at those original principles, by which, in
    every science, all human curiosity must be bounded. Though their speculations seem
    abstract, and even unintelligible to common readers, they aim at the approbation of
    the learned and the wise; and think themselves sufficiently compensated for the
    labour of their whole lives, if they can discover some hidden truths, which may
    contribute to the instruction of posterity.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum3"
    name="mnum3">3.</a></span></span> It is certain that the easy and obvious philosophy
    will always, with the generality of mankind, have the preference above the accurate
    and abstruse; and by many will be recommended, not only as more agreeable, but more
    useful than the other. It enters more into common life; moulds the heart and
    affections; and, by touching those principles which actuate men, reforms their
    conduct, and brings them nearer to that model of perfection which it describes. On
    the contrary, the abstruse philosophy, being founded on a turn of mind, which cannot
    enter into business and action, vanishes when the philosopher leaves the shade, and
    comes into open day; nor can its principles easily retain any influence over our
    conduct and behaviour. The feelings of our heart, the agitation of our passions, the
    vehemence of our affections, dissipate all its conclusions, and reduce the profound
    philosopher to a mere plebeian.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum4"
    name="mnum4">4.</a></span></span> This also must be confessed, that the most durable,
    as well as justest fame, has been acquired by the easy philosophy, and that abstract
    reasoners seem hitherto to have enjoyed only a momentary reputation, from the caprice
    or ignorance of their own age, but have not been able to support their renown with
    more equitable posterity. It is easy for a profound philosopher to commit a mistake
    in his subtile reasonings; and one mistake is the necessary parent of another, while
    he pushes on his consequences, and is not deterred from embracing any conclusion, by
    its unusual appearance, or its contradiction to popular opinion. But a philosopher,
    who purposes only to represent the common sense of mankind in more beautiful and more
    engaging colours, if by accident he falls into error, goes no farther; but renewing
    his appeal to common sense, and the natural sentiments of the mind, returns into the
    right path, and secures himself from any dangerous illusions. The fame of Cicero
    flourishes at present; but that of Aristotle is utterly decayed. La Bruyere passes
    the seas, and still maintains his reputation: But the glory of Malebranche is
    confined to his own nation, and to his own age. And Addison, perhaps, will be read
    with pleasure, when Locke shall be entirely forgotten.</p>
    <p>The mere philosopher is a character, which is commonly but little acceptable in
    the world, as being supposed to contribute nothing either to the advantage or
    pleasure of society; while he lives remote from communication with mankind, and is
    wrapped up in principles and notions equally remote from their comprehension. On the
    other hand, the mere ignorant is still more despised; nor is any thing deemed a surer
    sign of an illiberal genius in an age and nation where the sciences flourish, than to
    be entirely destitute of all relish for those noble entertainments. The most perfect
    character is supposed to lie between those extremes; retaining an equal ability and
    taste for books, company, and business; preserving in conversation that discernment
    and delicacy which arise from polite letters; and in business, that probity and
    accuracy which are the natural result of a just philosophy. In order to diffuse and
    cultivate so accomplished a character, nothing can be more useful than compositions
    of the easy style and manner, which draw not too much from life, require no deep
    application or retreat to be comprehended, and send back the student among mankind
    full of noble sentiments and wise precepts, applicable to every exigence of human
    life. By means of such compositions, virtue becomes amiable, science agreeable,
    company instructive, and retirement entertaining.</p>
    <p>Man is a reasonable being; and as such, receives from science his proper food and
    nourishment: But so narrow are the bounds of human understanding, that little
    satisfaction can be hoped for in this particular, either from the extent of security
    or his acquisitions. Man is a sociable, no less than a reasonable being: But neither
    can he always enjoy company agreeable and amusing, or preserve the proper relish for
    them. Man is also an active being; and from that disposition, as well as from the
    various necessities of human life, must submit to business and occupation: But the
    mind requires some relaxation, and cannot always support its bent to care and
    industry. It seems, then, that nature has pointed out a mixed kind of life as most
    suitable to the human race, and secretly admonished them to allow none of these
    biasses to <i>draw</i> too much, so as to incapacitate them for other occupations and
    entertainments. Indulge your passion for science, says she, but let your science be
    human, and such as may have a direct reference to action and society. Abstruse
    thought and profound researches I prohibit, and will severely punish, by the pensive
    melancholy which they introduce, by the endless uncertainty in which they involve
    you, and by the cold reception which your pretended discoveries shall meet with, when
    communicated. Be a philosopher; but, amidst all your philosophy, be still a man.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum5"
    name="mnum5">5.</a></span></span> Were the generality of mankind contented to prefer
    the easy philosophy to the abstract and profound, without throwing any blame or
    contempt on the latter, it might not be improper, perhaps, to comply with this
    general opinion, and allow every man to enjoy, without opposition, his own taste and
    sentiment. But as the matter is often carried farther, even to the absolute rejecting
    of all profound reasonings, or what is commonly called <i>metaphysics</i>, we shall
    now proceed to consider what can reasonably be pleaded in their behalf.</p>
    <p>We may begin with observing, that one considerable advantage, which results from
    the accurate and abstract philosophy, is, its subserviency to the easy and humane;
    which, without the former, can never attain a sufficient degree of exactness in its
    sentiments, precepts, or reasonings. All polite letters are nothing but pictures of
    human life in various attitudes and situations; and inspire us with different
    sentiments, of praise or blame, admiration or ridicule, according to the qualities of
    the object, which they set before us. An artist must be better qualified to succeed
    in this undertaking, who, besides a delicate taste and a quick apprehension,
    possesses an accurate knowledge of the internal fabric, the operations of the
    understanding, the workings of the passions, and the various species of sentiment
    which discriminate vice and virtue. How painful soever this inward search or enquiry
    may appear, it becomes, in some measure, requisite to those, who would describe with
    success the obvious and outward appearances of life and manners. The anatomist
    presents to the eye the most hideous and disagreeable objects; but his science is
    useful to the painter in delineating even a Venus or an Helen. While the latter
    employs all the richest colours of his art, and gives his figures the most graceful
    and engaging airs; he must still carry his attention to the inward structure of the
    human body, the position of the muscles, the fabric of the bones, and the use and
    figure of every part or organ. Accuracy is, in every case, advantageous to beauty,
    and just reasoning to delicate sentiment. In vain would we exalt the one by
    depreciating the other.</p>
    <p>Besides, we may observe, in every art or profession, even those which most concern
    life or action, that a spirit of accuracy, however acquired, carries all of them
    nearer their perfection, and renders them more subservient to the interests of
    society. And though a philosopher may live remote from business, the genius of
    philosophy, if carefully cultivated by several, must gradually diffuse itself
    throughout the whole society, and bestow a similar correctness on every art and
    calling. The politician will acquire greater foresight and subtility, in the
    subdividing and balancing of power; the lawyer more method and finer principles in
    his reasonings; and the general more regularity in his discipline, and more caution
    in his plans and operations. The stability of modern governments above the ancient,
    and the accuracy of modern philosophy, have improved, and probably will still
    improve, by similar gradations.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum6"
    name="mnum6">6.</a></span></span> Were there no advantage to be reaped from these
    studies, beyond the gratification of an innocent curiosity, yet ought not even this
    to be despised; as being one accession to those few safe and harmless pleasures,
    which are bestowed on human race. The sweetest and most inoffensive path of life
    leads through the avenues of science and learning; and whoever can either remove any
    obstructions in this way, or open up any new prospect, ought so far to be esteemed a
    benefactor to mankind. And though these researches may appear painful and fatiguing,
    it is with some minds as with some bodies, which being endowed with vigorous and
    florid health, require severe exercise, and reap a pleasure from what, to the
    generality of mankind, may seem burdensome and laborious. Obscurity, indeed, is
    painful to the mind as well as to the eye; but to bring light from obscurity, by
    whatever labour, must needs be delightful and rejoicing.</p>
    <p>But this obscurity in the profound and abstract philosophy, is objected to, not
    only as painful and fatiguing, but as the inevitable source of uncertainty and error.
    Here indeed lies the justest and most plausible objection against a considerable part
    of metaphysics, that they are not properly a science; but arise either from the
    fruitless efforts of human vanity, which would penetrate into subjects utterly
    inaccessible to the understanding, or from the craft of popular superstitions, which,
    being unable to defend themselves on fair ground, raise these intangling brambles to
    cover and protect their weakness. Chaced from the open country, these robbers fly
    into the forest, and lie in wait to break in upon every unguarded avenue of the mind,
    and overwhelm it with religious fears and prejudices. The stoutest antagonist, if he
    remit his watch a moment, is oppressed. And many, through cowardice and folly, open
    the gates to the enemies, and willingly receive them with reverence and submission,
    as their legal sovereigns.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum7"
    name="mnum7">7.</a></span></span> But is this a sufficient reason, why philosophers
    should desist from such researches, and leave superstition still in possession of her
    retreat? Is it not proper to draw an opposite conclusion, and perceive the necessity
    of carrying the war into the most secret recesses of the enemy? In vain do we hope,
    that men, from frequent disappointment, will at last abandon such airy sciences, and
    discover the proper province of human reason. For, besides, that many persons find
    too sensible an interest in perpetually recalling such topics; besides this, I say,
    the motive of blind despair can never reasonably have place in the sciences; since,
    however unsuccessful former attempts may have proved, there is still room to hope,
    that the industry, good fortune, or improved sagacity of succeeding generations may
    reach discoveries unknown to former ages. Each adventurous genius will still leap at
    the arduous prize, and find himself stimulated, rather that discouraged, by the
    failures of his predecessors; while he hopes that the glory of achieving so hard an
    adventure is reserved for him alone. The only method of freeing learning, at once,
    from these abstruse questions, is to enquire seriously into the nature of human
    understanding, and show, from an exact analysis of its powers and capacity, that it
    is by no means fitted for such remote and abstruse subjects. We must submit to this
    fatigue, in order to live at ease ever after: And must cultivate true metaphysics
    with some care, in order to destroy the false and adulterate. Indolence, which, to
    some persons, affords a safeguard against this deceitful philosophy, is, with others,
    overbalanced by curiosity; and despair, which, at some moments, prevails, may give
    place afterwards to sanguine hopes and expectations. Accurate and just reasoning is
    the only catholic remedy, fitted for all persons and all dispositions; and is alone
    able to subvert that abstruse philosophy and metaphysical jargon, which, being mixed
    up with popular superstition, renders it in a manner impenetrable to careless
    reasoners, and gives it the air of science and wisdom.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum8"
    name="mnum8">8.</a></span></span> Besides this advantage of rejecting, after
    deliberate enquiry, the most uncertain and disagreeable part of learning, there are
    many positive advantages, which result from an accurate scrutiny into the powers and
    faculties of human nature. It is remarkable concerning the operations of the mind,
    that, though most intimately present to us, yet, whenever they become the object of
    reflexion, they seem involved in obscurity; nor can the eye readily find those lines
    and boundaries, which discriminate and distinguish them. The objects are too fine to
    remain long in the same aspect or situation; and must be apprehended in an instant,
    by a superior penetration, derived from nature, and improved by habit and reflexion.
    It becomes, therefore, no inconsiderable part of science barely to know the different
    operations of the mind, to separate them from each other, to class them under their
    proper heads, and to correct all that seeming disorder, in which they lie involved,
    when made the object of reflexion and enquiry. This talk of ordering and
    distinguishing, which has no merit, when performed with regard to external bodies,
    the objects of our senses, rises in its value, when directed towards the operations
    of the mind, in proportion to the difficulty and labour, which we meet with in
    performing it. And if we can go no farther than this mental geography, or delineation
    of the distinct parts and powers of the mind, it is at least a satisfaction to go so
    far; and the more obvious this science may appear (and it is by no means obvious) the
    more contemptible still must the ignorance of it be esteemed, in all pretenders to
    learning and philosophy.</p>
    <p>Nor can there remain any suspicion, that this science is uncertain and chimerical;
    unless we should entertain such a scepticism as is entirely subversive of all
    speculation, and even action. It cannot be doubted, that the mind is endowed with
    several powers and faculties, that these powers are distinct from each other, that
    what is really distinct to the immediate perception may be distinguished by
    reflexion; and consequently, that there is a truth and falsehood in all propositions
    on this subject, and a truth and falsehood, which lie not beyond the compass of human
    understanding. There are many obvious distinctions of this kind, such as those
    between the will and understanding, the imagination and passions, which fall within
    the comprehension of every human creature; and the finer and more philosophical
    distinctions are no less real and certain, though more difficult to be comprehended.
    Some instances, especially late ones, of success in these enquiries, may give us a
    juster notion of the certainty and solidity of this branch of learning. And shall we
    esteem it worthy the labour of a philosopher to give us a true system of the planets,
    and adjust the position and order of those remote bodies; while we affect to overlook
    those, who, with so much success, delineate the parts of the mind, in which we are so
    intimately concerned?</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum9"
    name="mnum9">9.</a></span></span> But may we not hope, that philosophy, if cultivated
    with care, and encouraged by the attention of the public, may carry its researches
    still farther, and discover, at least in some degree, the secret springs and
    principles, by which the human mind is actuated in its operations? Astronomers had
    long contented themselves with proving, from the phaenomena, the true motions, order,
    and magnitude of the heavenly bodies: Till a philosopher, at last, arose, who seems,
    from the happiest reasoning, to have also determined the laws and forces, by which
    the revolutions of the planets are governed and directed. The like has been performed
    with regard to other parts of nature. And there is no reason to despair of equal
    success in our enquiries concerning the mental powers and economy, if prosecuted with
    equal capacity and caution. It is probable, that one operation and principle of the
    mind depends on another; which, again, may be resolved into one more general and
    universal: And how far these researches may possibly be carried, it will be difficult
    for us, before, or even after, a careful trial, exactly to determine. This is
    certain, that attempts of this kind are every day made even by those who philosophize
    the most negligently: And nothing can be more requisite than to enter upon the
    enterprize with thorough care and attention; that, if it lie within the compass of
    human understanding, it may at last be happily achieved; if not, it may, however, be
    rejected with some confidence and security. This last conclusion, surely, is not
    desirable; nor ought it to be embraced too rashly. For how much must we diminish from
    the beauty and value of this species of philosophy, upon such a supposition?
    Moralists have hitherto been accustomed, when they considered the vast multitude and
    diversity of those actions that excite our approbation or dislike, to search for some
    common principle, on which this variety of sentiments might depend. And though they
    have sometimes carried the matter too far, by their passion for some one general
    principle; it must, however, be confessed, that they are excusable in expecting to
    find some general principles, into which all the vices and virtues were justly to be
    resolved. The like has been the endeavour of critics, logicians, and even
    politicians: Nor have their attempts been wholly unsuccessful; though perhaps longer
    time, greater accuracy, and more ardent application may bring these sciences still
    nearer their perfection. To throw up at once all pretensions of this kind may justly
    be deemed more rash, precipitate, and dogmatical, than even the boldest and most
    affirmative philosophy, that has ever attempted to impose its crude dictates and
    principles on mankind.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum10"
    name="mnum10">10.</a></span></span> What though these reasonings concerning human
    nature seem abstract, and of difficult comprehension? This affords no presumption of
    their falsehood. On the contrary, it seems impossible, that what has hitherto escaped
    so many wise and profound philosophers can be very obvious and easy. And whatever
    pains these researches may cost us, we may think ourselves sufficiently rewarded, not
    only in point of profit but of pleasure, if, by that means, we can make any addition
    to our stock of knowledge, in subjects of such unspeakable importance.</p>
    <p>But as, after all, the abstractedness of these speculations is no recommendation,
    but rather a disadvantage to them, and as this difficulty may perhaps be surmounted
    by care and art, and the avoiding of all unnecessary detail, we have, in the
    following enquiry, attempted to throw some light upon subjects, from which
    uncertainty has hitherto deterred the wise, and obscurity the ignorant. Happy, if we
    can unite the boundaries of the different species of philosophy, by reconciling
    profound enquiry with clearness, and truth with novelty! And still more happy, if,
    reasoning in this easy manner, we can undermine the foundations of an abstruse
    philosophy, which seems to have hitherto served only as a shelter to superstition,
    and a cover to absurdity and error!</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section2" name="section2">SECTION II</a></h2>
    <h3>OF THE ORIGIN OF IDEAS.</h3>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum11"
    name="mnum11">11.</a></span></span> Every one will readily allow, that there is a
    considerable difference between the perceptions of the mind, when a man feels the
    pain of excessive heat, or the pleasure of moderate warmth, and when he afterwards
    recalls to his memory this sensation, or anticipates it by his imagination. These
    faculties may mimic or copy the perceptions of the senses; but they never can
    entirely reach the force and vivacity of the original sentiment. The utmost we say of
    them, even when they operate with greatest vigour, is, that they represent their
    object in so lively a manner, that we could <i>almost</i> say we feel or see it: But,
    except the mind be disordered by disease or madness, they never can arrive at such a
    pitch of vivacity, as to render these perceptions altogether undistinguishable. All
    the colours of poetry, however splendid, can never paint natural objects in such a
    manner as to make the description be taken for a real landskip. The most lively
    thought is still inferior to the dullest sensation.</p>
    <p>We may observe a like distinction to run through all the other perceptions of the
    mind. A man in a fit of anger, is actuated in a very different manner from one who
    only thinks of that emotion. If you tell me, that any person is in love, I easily
    understand your meaning, and form a just conception of his situation; but never can
    mistake that conception for the real disorders and agitations of the passion. When we
    reflect on our past sentiments and affections, our thought is a faithful mirror, and
    copies its objects truly; but the colours which it employs are faint and dull, in
    comparison of those in which our original perceptions were clothed. It requires no
    nice discernment or metaphysical head to mark the distinction between them.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum12"
    name="mnum12">12.</a></span></span> Here therefore we may divide all the perceptions
    of the mind into two classes or species, which are distinguished by their different
    degrees of force and vivacity. The less forcible and lively are commonly denominated
    <i>Thoughts</i> or <i>Ideas</i>. The other species want a name in our language, and
    in most others; I suppose, because it was not requisite for any, but philosophical
    purposes, to rank them under a general term or appellation. Let us, therefore, use a
    little freedom, and call them <i>Impressions</i>; employing that word in a sense
    somewhat different from the usual. By the term <i>impression</i>, then, I mean all
    our more lively perceptions, when we hear, or see, or feel, or love, or hate, or
    desire, or will. And impressions are distinguished from ideas, which are the less
    lively perceptions, of which we are conscious, when we reflect on any of those
    sensations or movements above mentioned.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum13"
    name="mnum13">13.</a></span></span> Nothing, at first view, may seem more unbounded
    than the thought of man, which not only escapes all human power and authority, but is
    not even restrained within the limits of nature and reality. To form monsters, and
    join incongruous shapes and appearances, costs the imagination no more trouble than
    to conceive 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 into the most distant regions of the universe; or even beyond
    the universe, into the unbounded chaos, where nature is supposed to lie in total
    confusion. What never was seen, or heard of, may yet be conceived; nor is any thing
    beyond the power of thought, except what implies an absolute contradiction.</p>
    <p>But though our thought seems to possess this unbounded liberty, we shall find,
    upon a nearer examination, that it is really confined within very narrow limits, and
    that all this creative power of the mind amounts to no more than the faculty of
    compounding, transposing, augmenting, or diminishing the materials afforded us by the
    senses and experience. When we think of a golden mountain, we only join two
    consistent ideas, <i>gold</i>, and <i>mountain</i>, with which we were formerly
    acquainted. A virtuous horse we can conceive; because, from our own feeling, we can
    conceive virtue; and this we may unite to the figure and shape of a horse, which is
    an animal familiar to us. In short, all the materials of thinking are derived either
    from our outward or inward sentiment: the mixture and composition of these belongs
    alone to the mind and will. Or, to express myself in philosophical language, all our
    ideas or more feeble perceptions are copies of our impressions or more lively
    ones.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum14"
    name="mnum14">14.</a></span></span> To prove this, the two following arguments will,
    I hope, be sufficient. First, when we analyze our thoughts or ideas, however
    compounded or sublime, we always find that they resolve themselves into such simple
    ideas as were copied from a precedent feeling or sentiment. 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 intelligent, wise,
    and good Being, arises from reflecting on the operations of our own mind, and
    augmenting, without limit, those qualities of goodness and wisdom. We may prosecute
    this enquiry to what length we please; where we shall always find, that every idea
    which we examine is copied from a similar impression. Those who would assert that
    this position is not universally true nor without exception, have only one, and that
    an easy method of refuting it; by producing that idea, which, in their opinion, is
    not derived from this source. It will then be incumbent on us, if we would maintain
    our doctrine, to produce the impression, or lively perception, which corresponds to
    it.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum15"
    name="mnum15">15.</a></span></span> Secondly. If it happen, from a defect of the
    organ, that a man is not susceptible of any species of sensation, we always find that
    he is as little susceptible of the correspondent ideas. A blind man can form no
    notion of colours; a deaf man of sounds. Restore either of them that sense in which
    he is deficient; by opening this new inlet for his sensations, you also open an inlet
    for the ideas; and he finds no difficulty in conceiving these objects. The case is
    the same, if the object, proper for exciting any sensation, has never been applied to
    the organ. A Laplander or Negro has no notion of the relish of wine. And though there
    are few or no instances of a like deficiency in the mind, where a person has never
    felt or is wholly incapable of a sentiment or passion that belongs to his species;
    yet we find the same observation to take place in a less degree. A man of mild
    manners can form no idea of inveterate revenge or cruelty; nor can a selfish heart
    easily conceive the heights of friendship and generosity. It is readily allowed, that
    other beings may possess many senses of which we can have no conception; because the
    ideas of them have never been introduced to us in the only manner by which an idea
    can have access to the mind, to wit, by the actual feeling and sensation.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum16"
    name="mnum16">16.</a></span></span> There is, however, one contradictory phenomenon,
    which may prove that it is not absolutely impossible for ideas to arise, independent
    of their correspondent impressions. I believe it will readily be allowed, that the
    several distinct ideas of colour, which enter by the eye, or those of sound, which
    are conveyed by the ear, are really different from each other; though, at the same
    time, resembling. Now if this be true of different colours, it must be no less so of
    the different shades of the same colour; and each shade produces a distinct idea,
    independent of the rest. For if this should be denied, it is possible, by the
    continual gradation of shades, to run a colour insensibly into what is most remote
    from it; and if you will not allow any of the means to be different, you cannot,
    without absurdity, deny the extremes to be the same. Suppose, therefore, a person to
    have enjoyed his sight for thirty years, and to have become perfectly acquainted with
    colours of all kinds except one particular shade of blue, for instance, which it
    never has been his fortune to meet with. Let all the different shades of that colour,
    except that single one, be placed before him, descending gradually from the deepest
    to the lightest; it is plain that he will perceive a blank, where that shade is
    wanting, and will be sensible that there is a greater distance in that place between
    the contiguous colours than in any other. Now I ask, whether it be possible for him,
    from his own imagination, to supply this deficiency, and raise up to himself the idea
    of that particular shade, though it had never been conveyed to him by his senses? I
    believe there are few but will be of opinion that he can: and this may serve as a
    proof that the simple ideas are not always, in every instance, derived from the
    correspondent impressions; though this instance is so singular, that it is scarcely
    worth our observing, and does not merit that for it alone we should alter our general
    maxim.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum17"
    name="mnum17">17.</a></span></span> Here, therefore, is a proposition, which not only
    seems, in itself, simple and intelligible; but, if a proper use were made of it,
    might render every dispute equally intelligible, and banish all that jargon, which
    has so long taken possession of metaphysical reasonings, and drawn disgrace upon
    them. All ideas, especially abstract ones, are naturally faint and obscure: the mind
    has but a slender hold of them: they are apt to be confounded with other resembling
    ideas; and when we have often employed any term, though without a distinct meaning,
    we are apt to imagine it has a determinate idea annexed to it. On the contrary, all
    impressions, that is, all sensations, either outward or inward, are strong and vivid:
    the limits between them are more exactly determined: nor is it easy to fall into any
    error or mistake with regard to them. When we entertain, therefore, any suspicion
    that a philosophical term is employed without any meaning or idea (as is but too
    frequent), we need but enquire, <i>from what impression is that supposed idea
    derived</i>? And if it be impossible to assign any, this will serve to confirm our
    suspicion. By bringing ideas into so clear a light we may reasonably hope to remove
    all dispute, which may arise, concerning their nature and reality.<a
    id="footnotetag1" name="footnotetag1"></a><a href="#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a></p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section3" name="section3">SECTION III.</a></h2>
    <h3>OF THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.</h3>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum18"
    name="mnum18">18.</a></span></span> It is evident that there is a principle of
    connexion between the different thoughts or ideas of the mind, and that, in their
    appearance to the memory or imagination, they introduce each other with a certain
    degree of method and regularity. In our more serious thinking or discourse this is so
    observable that any particular thought, which breaks in upon the regular tract or
    chain of ideas, is immediately remarked and rejected. And even in our wildest and
    most wandering reveries, nay in our very dreams, we shall find, if we reflect, that
    the imagination ran not altogether at adventures, but that there was still a
    connexion upheld among the different ideas, which succeeded each other. Were the
    loosest and freest conversation to be transcribed, there would immediately be
    observed something which connected it in all its transitions. Or where this is
    wanting, the person who broke the thread of discourse might still inform you, that
    there had secretly revolved in his mind a succession of thought, which had gradually
    led him from the subject of conversation. Among different languages, even where we
    cannot suspect the least connexion or communication, it is found, that the words,
    expressive of ideas, the most compounded, do yet nearly correspond to each other: a
    certain proof that the simple ideas, comprehended in the compound ones, were bound
    together by some universal principle, which had an equal influence on all
    mankind.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum19"
    name="mnum19">19.</a></span></span> Though it be too obvious to escape observation,
    that different ideas are connected together; I do not find that any philosopher has
    attempted to enumerate or class all the principles of association; a subject,
    however, that seems worthy of curiosity. To me, there appear to be only three
    principles of connexion among ideas, namely, <i>Resemblance</i>, <i>Contiguity</i> in
    time or place, and <i>Cause or Effect</i>.</p>
    <p>That these principles serve to connect ideas will not, I believe, be much doubted.
    A picture naturally leads our thoughts to the original<a id="footnotetag2"
    name="footnotetag2"></a><a href="#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a>: the mention of one
    apartment in a building naturally introduces an enquiry or discourse concerning the
    others<a id="footnotetag3" name="footnotetag3"></a><a
    href="#footnote3"><sup>3</sup></a>: and if we think of a wound, we can scarcely
    forbear reflecting on the pain which follows it<a id="footnotetag4"
    name="footnotetag4"></a><a href="#footnote4"><sup>4</sup></a>. But that this
    enumeration is complete, and that there are no other principles of association except
    these, may be difficult to prove to the satisfaction of the reader, or even to a
    man's own satisfaction. All we can do, in such cases, is to run over several
    instances, and examine carefully the principle which binds the different thoughts to
    each other, never stopping till we render the principle as general as possible<a
    id="footnotetag5" name="footnotetag5"></a><a href="#footnote5"><sup>5</sup></a>. The
    more instances we examine, and the more care we employ, the more assurance shall we
    acquire, that the enumeration, which we form from the whole, is complete and
    entire.</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section4" name="section4">SECTION IV.</a></h2>
    <h3>SCEPTICAL DOUBTS CONCERNING THE OPERATIONS OF THE UNDERSTANDING.</h3>
    <h4>PART I.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum20"
    name="mnum20">20.</a></span></span> All the objects of human reason or enquiry may
    naturally be divided into two kinds, to wit, <i>Relations of Ideas</i>, and
    <i>Matters of Fact</i>. Of the first kind are the sciences of Geometry, Algebra, and
    Arithmetic; and in short, every affirmation which is either intuitively or
    demonstratively certain. <i>That the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the square
    of the two sides</i>, is a proposition which expresses a relation between these
    figures. <i>That three times five is equal to the half of thirty</i>, expresses a
    relation between these numbers. Propositions of this kind are discoverable by the
    mere operation of thought, without dependence on what is anywhere existent in the
    universe. Though there never were a circle or triangle in nature, the truths
    demonstrated by Euclid would for ever retain their certainty and evidence.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum21"
    name="mnum21">21.</a></span></span> Matters of fact, which are the second objects of
    human reason, are not ascertained in the same manner; nor is our evidence of their
    truth, however great, of a like nature with the foregoing. The contrary of every
    matter of fact is still possible; because it can never imply a contradiction, and is
    conceived by the mind with the same facility and distinctness, as if ever so
    conformable to reality. <i>That the sun will not rise to-morrow</i> is no less
    intelligible a proposition, and implies no more contradiction than the affirmation,
    <i>that it will rise</i>. We should in vain, therefore, attempt to demonstrate its
    falsehood. Were it demonstratively false, it would imply a contradiction, and could
    never be distinctly conceived by the mind.</p>
    <p>It may, therefore, be a subject worthy of curiosity, to enquire what is the nature
    of that evidence which assures us of any real existence and matter of fact, beyond
    the present testimony of our senses, or the records of our memory. This part of
    philosophy, it is observable, has been little cultivated, either by the ancients or
    moderns; and therefore our doubts and errors, in the prosecution of so important an
    enquiry, may be the more excusable; while we march through such difficult paths
    without any guide or direction. They may even prove useful, by exciting curiosity,
    and destroying that implicit faith and security, which is the bane of all reasoning
    and free enquiry. The discovery of defects in the common philosophy, if any such
    there be, will not, I presume, be a discouragement, but rather an incitement, as is
    usual, to attempt something more full and satisfactory than has yet been proposed to
    the public.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum22"
    name="mnum22">22.</a></span></span> All reasonings concerning matter of fact seem to
    be founded on the relation of <i>Cause and Effect</i>. By means of that relation
    alone we can go beyond the evidence of our memory and senses. If you were to ask a
    man, why he believes any matter of fact, which is absent; for instance, that his
    friend is in the country, or in France; he would give you a reason; and this reason
    would be some other fact; as a letter received from him, or the knowledge of his
    former resolutions and promises. A man finding a watch or any other machine in a
    desert island, would conclude that there had once been men in that island. All our
    reasonings concerning fact are of the same nature. And here it is constantly supposed
    that there is a connexion between the present fact and that which is inferred from
    it. Were there nothing to bind them together, the inference would be entirely
    precarious. The hearing of an articulate voice and rational discourse in the dark
    assures us of the presence of some person: Why? because these are the effects of the
    human make and fabric, and closely connected with it. If we anatomize all the other
    reasonings of this nature, we shall find that they are founded on the relation of
    cause and effect, and that this relation is either near or remote, direct or
    collateral. Heat and light are collateral effects of fire, and the one effect may
    justly be inferred from the other.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum23"
    name="mnum23">23.</a></span></span> If we would satisfy ourselves, therefore,
    concerning the nature of that evidence, which assures us of matters of fact, we must
    enquire how we arrive at the knowledge of cause and effect.</p>
    <p>I shall venture to affirm, as a general proposition, which admits of no exception,
    that the knowledge of this relation is not, in any instance, attained by reasonings
    <i>a priori</i>; but arises entirely from experience, when we find that any
    particular objects are constantly conjoined with each other. Let an object be
    presented to a man of ever so strong natural reason and abilities; if that object be
    entirely new to him, he will not be able, by the most accurate examination of its
    sensible qualities, to discover any of its causes or effects. Adam, though his
    rational faculties be supposed, at the very first, entirely perfect, could not have
    inferred from the fluidity and transparency of water that it would suffocate him, or
    from the light and warmth of fire that it would consume him. No object ever
    discovers, by the qualities which appear to the senses, either the causes which
    produced it, or the effects which will arise from it; nor can our reason, unassisted
    by experience, ever draw any inference concerning real existence and matter of
    fact.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum24"
    name="mnum24">24.</a></span></span> This proposition, <i>that causes and effects are
    discoverable, not by reason but by experience</i>, will readily be admitted with
    regard to such objects, as we remember to have once been altogether unknown to us;
    since we must be conscious of the utter inability, which we then lay under, of
    foretelling what would arise from them. Present two smooth pieces of marble to a man
    who has no tincture of natural philosophy; he will never discover that they will
    adhere together in such a manner as to require great force to separate them in a
    direct line, while they make so small a resistance to a lateral pressure. Such
    events, as bear little analogy to the common course of nature, are also readily
    confessed to be known only by experience; nor does any man imagine that the explosion
    of gunpowder, or the attraction of a loadstone, could ever be discovered by arguments
    <i>a priori</i>. In like manner, when an effect is supposed to depend upon an
    intricate machinery or secret structure of parts, we make no difficulty in
    attributing all our knowledge of it to experience. Who will assert that he can give
    the ultimate reason, why milk or bread is proper nourishment for a man, not for a
    lion or a tiger?</p>
    <p>But the same truth may not appear, at first sight, to have the same evidence with
    regard to events, which have become familiar to us from our first appearance in the
    world, which bear a close analogy to the whole course of nature, and which are
    supposed to depend on the simple qualities of objects, without any secret structure
    of parts. We are apt to imagine that we could discover these effects by the mere
    operation of our reason, without experience. We fancy, that were we brought on a
    sudden into this world, we could at first have inferred that one Billiard-ball would
    communicate motion to another upon impulse; and that we needed not to have waited for
    the event, in order to pronounce with certainty concerning it. Such is the influence
    of custom, that, where it is strongest, it not only covers our natural ignorance, but
    even conceals itself, and seems not to take place, merely because it is found in the
    highest degree.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum25"
    name="mnum25">25.</a></span></span> But to convince us that all the laws of nature,
    and all the operations of bodies without exception, are known only by experience, the
    following reflections may, perhaps, suffice. Were any object presented to us, and
    were we required to pronounce concerning the effect, which will result from it,
    without consulting past observation; after what manner, I beseech you, must the mind
    proceed in this operation? It must invent or imagine some event, which it ascribes to
    the object as its effect; and it is plain that this invention must be entirely
    arbitrary. The mind can never possibly find the effect in the supposed cause, by the
    most accurate scrutiny and examination. For the effect is totally different from the
    cause, and consequently can never be discovered in it. Motion in the second
    Billiard-ball is a quite distinct event from motion in the first; nor is there
    anything in the one to suggest the smallest hint of the other. A stone or piece of
    metal raised into the air, and left without any support, immediately falls: but to
    consider the matter <i>a priori</i>, is there anything we discover in this situation
    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 imagination or invention of a particular
    effect, in all natural operations, is arbitrary, where we consult not experience; so
    must we also esteem the supposed tie or connexion between the cause and effect, which
    binds them together, and renders it impossible that any other effect could result
    from the operation of that cause. When I see, for instance, a Billiard-ball moving in
    a straight line towards another; even suppose motion in the second ball should by
    accident be suggested to me, as the result of their contact or impulse; may I not
    conceive, that a hundred different events might as well follow from that cause? May
    not both these balls remain at absolute rest? May not the first ball return in a
    straight line, or leap off from the second in any line or direction? All these
    suppositions are consistent and conceivable. Why then should we give the preference
    to one, which is no more consistent or conceivable than the rest? All our reasonings
    <i>a priori</i> will never be able to show us any foundation for this preference.</p>
    <p>In a word, then, every effect is a distinct event from its cause. It could not,
    therefore, be discovered in the cause, and the first invention or conception of it,
    <i>a priori</i>, must be entirely arbitrary. And even after it is suggested, the
    conjunction of it with the cause must appear equally arbitrary; since there are
    always many other effects, which, to reason, must seem fully as consistent and
    natural. In vain, therefore, should we pretend to determine any single event, or
    infer any cause or effect, without the assistance of observation and experience.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum26"
    name="mnum26">26.</a></span></span> Hence we may discover the reason why no
    philosopher, who is rational and modest, has ever pretended to assign the ultimate
    cause of any natural operation, or to show distinctly the action of that power, which
    produces any single effect in the universe. It is confessed, that the utmost effort
    of human reason is to reduce the principles, productive of natural phenomena, to a
    greater simplicity, and to resolve the many particular effects into a few general
    causes, by means of reasonings from analogy, experience, and observation. But as to
    the causes of these general causes, we should in vain attempt their discovery; nor
    shall we ever be able to satisfy ourselves, by any particular explication of them.
    These ultimate springs and principles are totally shut up from human curiosity and
    enquiry. Elasticity, gravity, cohesion of parts, communication of motion by impulse;
    these are probably the ultimate causes and principles which we shall ever discover in
    nature; and we may esteem ourselves sufficiently happy, if, by accurate enquiry and
    reasoning, we can trace up the particular phenomena to, or near to, these general
    principles. The most perfect philosophy of the natural kind only staves off our
    ignorance a little longer: as perhaps the most perfect philosophy of the moral or
    metaphysical kind serves only to discover larger portions of it. Thus the observation
    of human blindness and weakness is the result of all philosophy, and meets us at
    every turn, in spite of our endeavours to elude or avoid it.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum27"
    name="mnum27">27.</a></span></span> Nor is geometry, when taken into the assistance
    of natural philosophy, ever able to remedy this defect, or lead us into the knowledge
    of ultimate causes, by all that accuracy of reasoning for which it is so justly
    celebrated. Every part of mixed mathematics proceeds upon the supposition that
    certain laws are established by nature in her operations; and abstract reasonings are
    employed, either to assist experience in the discovery of these laws, or to determine
    their influence in particular instances, where it depends upon any precise degree of
    distance and quantity. Thus, it is a law of motion, discovered by experience, that
    the moment or force of any body in motion is in the compound ratio or proportion of
    its solid contents and its velocity; and consequently, that a small force may remove
    the greatest obstacle or raise the greatest weight, if, by any contrivance or
    machinery, we can increase the velocity of that force, so as to make it an overmatch
    for its antagonist. Geometry assists us in the application of this law, by giving us
    the just dimensions of all the parts and figures which can enter into any species of
    machine; but still the discovery of the law itself is owing merely to experience, and
    all the abstract reasonings in the world could never lead us one step towards the
    knowledge of it. When we reason <i>a priori</i>, and consider merely any object or
    cause, as it appears to the mind, independent of all observation, it never could
    suggest to us the notion of any distinct object, such as its effect; much less, show
    us the inseparable and inviolable connexion between them. A man must be very
    sagacious who could discover by reasoning that crystal is the effect of heat, and ice
    of cold, without being previously acquainted with the operation of these
    qualities.</p>
    <h4>PART II.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum28"
    name="mnum28">28.</a></span></span> But we have not yet attained any tolerable
    satisfaction with regard to the question first proposed. Each solution still gives
    rise to a new question as difficult as the foregoing, and leads us on to farther
    enquiries. When it is asked, <i>What is the nature of all our reasonings concerning
    matter of fact?</i> the proper answer seems to be, that they are founded on the
    relation of cause and effect. When again it is asked, <i>What is the foundation of
    all our reasonings and conclusions concerning that relation?</i> it may be replied in
    one word, Experience. But if we still carry on our sifting humour, and ask, <i>What
    is the foundation of all conclusions from experience?</i> this implies a new
    question, which may be of more difficult solution and explication. Philosophers, that
    give themselves airs of superior wisdom and sufficiency, have a hard task when they
    encounter persons of inquisitive dispositions, who push them from every corner to
    which they retreat, and who are sure at last to bring them to some dangerous dilemma.
    The best expedient to prevent this confusion, is to be modest in our pretensions; and
    even to discover the difficulty ourselves before it is objected to us. By this means,
    we may make a kind of merit of our very ignorance.</p>
    <p>I shall content myself, in this section, with an easy task, and shall pretend only
    to give a negative answer to the question here proposed. I say then, that, even after
    we have experience of the operations of cause and effect, our conclusions from that
    experience are <i>not</i> founded on reasoning, or any process of the understanding.
    This answer we must endeavour both to explain and to defend.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum29"
    name="mnum29">29.</a></span></span> It must certainly be allowed, that nature has
    kept us at a great distance from all her secrets, and has afforded us only the
    knowledge of a few superficial qualities of objects; while she conceals from us those
    powers and principles on which the influence of those objects entirely depends. Our
    senses inform us of the colour, weight, and consistence of bread; but neither sense
    nor reason can ever inform us of those qualities which fit it for the nourishment and
    support of a human body. Sight or feeling conveys an idea of the actual motion of
    bodies; but as to that wonderful force or power, which would carry on a moving body
    for ever in a continued change of place, and which bodies never lose but by
    communicating it to others; of this we cannot form the most distant conception. But
    notwithstanding this ignorance of natural powers<a id="footnotetag6"
    name="footnotetag6"></a><a href="#footnote6"><sup>6</sup></a> and principles, we
    always presume, when we see like sensible qualities, that they have like secret
    powers, and expect that effects, similar to those which we have experienced, will
    follow from them. If a body of like colour and consistence with that bread, which we
    have formerly eat, be presented to us, we make no scruple of repeating the
    experiment, and foresee, with certainty, like nourishment and support. Now this is a
    process of the mind or thought, of which I would willingly know the foundation. It is
    allowed on all hands that there is no known connexion between the sensible qualities
    and the secret powers; and consequently, that the mind is not led to form such a
    conclusion concerning their constant and regular conjunction, by anything which it
    knows of their nature. As to past <i>Experience</i>, it can be allowed to give
    <i>direct</i> and <i>certain</i> information of those precise objects only, and that
    precise period of time, which fell under its cognizance: but why this experience
    should be extended to future times, and to other objects, which for aught we know,
    may be only in appearance similar; this is the main question on which I would insist.
    The bread, which I formerly eat, nourished me; that is, a body of such sensible
    qualities was, at that time, endued with such secret powers: but does it follow, that
    other bread must also nourish me at another time, and that like sensible qualities
    must always be attended with like secret powers? The consequence seems nowise
    necessary. At least, it must be acknowledged that there is here a consequence drawn
    by the mind; that there is a certain step taken; a process of thought, and an
    inference, which wants to be explained. These two propositions are far from being the
    same, <i>I have found that such an object has always been attended with such an
    effect</i>, and <i>I foresee, that other objects, which are, in appearance, similar,
    will be attended with similar effects</i>. I shall allow, if you please, that the one
    proposition may justly be inferred from the other: I know, in fact, that it always is
    inferred. But if you insist that the inference is made by a chain of reasoning, I
    desire you to produce that reasoning. The connexion between these propositions is not
    intuitive. There is required a medium, which may enable the mind to draw such an
    inference, if indeed it be drawn by reasoning and argument. What that medium is, I
    must confess, passes my comprehension; and it is incumbent on those to produce it,
    who assert that it really exists, and is the origin of all our conclusions concerning
    matter of fact.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum30"
    name="mnum30">30.</a></span></span> This negative argument must certainly, in process
    of time, become altogether convincing, if many penetrating and able philosophers
    shall turn their enquiries this way and no one be ever able to discover any
    connecting proposition or intermediate step, which supports the understanding in this
    conclusion. But as the question is yet new, every reader may not trust so far to his
    own penetration, as to conclude, because an argument escapes his enquiry, that
    therefore it does not really exist. For this reason it may be requisite to venture
    upon a more difficult task; and enumerating all the branches of human knowledge,
    endeavour to show that none of them can afford such an argument.</p>
    <p>All reasonings may be divided into two kinds, namely, demonstrative reasoning, or
    that concerning relations of ideas, and moral reasoning, or that concerning matter of
    fact and existence. That there are no demonstrative arguments in the case seems
    evident; since it implies no contradiction that the course of nature may change, and
    that an object, seemingly like those which we have experienced, may be attended with
    different or contrary effects. May I not clearly and distinctly conceive that a body,
    falling from the clouds, and which, in all other respects, resembles snow, has yet
    the taste of salt or feeling of fire? Is there any more intelligible proposition than
    to affirm, that all the trees will flourish in December and January, and decay in May
    and June? Now whatever is intelligible, and can be distinctly conceived, implies no
    contradiction, and can never be proved false by any demonstrative argument or
    abstract reasoning <i>  priori</i>.</p>
    <p>If we be, therefore, engaged by arguments to put trust in past experience, and
    make it the standard of our future judgement, these arguments must be probable only,
    or such as regard matter of fact and real existence, according to the division above
    mentioned. But that there is no argument of this kind, must appear, if our
    explication of that species of reasoning be admitted as solid and satisfactory. We
    have said that all arguments concerning existence are founded on the relation of
    cause and effect; that our knowledge of that relation is derived entirely from
    experience; and that all our experimental conclusions proceed upon the supposition
    that the future will be conformable to the past. To endeavour, therefore, the proof
    of this last supposition by probable arguments, or arguments regarding existence,
    must be evidently going in a circle, and taking that for granted, which is the very
    point in question.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum31"
    name="mnum31">31.</a></span></span> In reality, all arguments from experience are
    founded on the similarity which we discover among natural objects, and by which we
    are induced to expect effects similar to those which we have found to follow from
    such objects. And though none but a fool or madman will ever pretend to dispute the
    authority of experience, or to reject that great guide of human life, it may surely
    be allowed a philosopher to have so much curiosity at least as to examine the
    principle of human nature, which gives this mighty authority to experience, and makes
    us draw advantage from that similarity which nature has placed among different
    objects. From causes which appear <i>similar</i> we expect similar effects. This is
    the sum of all our experimental conclusions. Now it seems evident that, if this
    conclusion were formed by reason, it would be as perfect at first, and upon one
    instance, as after ever so long a course of experience. But the case is far
    otherwise. Nothing so like as eggs; yet no one, on account of this appearing
    similarity, expects the same taste and relish in all of them. It is only after a long
    course of uniform experiments in any kind, that we attain a firm reliance and
    security with regard to a particular event. Now where is that process of reasoning
    which, from one instance, draws a conclusion, so different from that which it infers
    from a hundred instances that are nowise different from that single one? This
    question I propose as much for the sake of information, as with an intention of
    raising difficulties. I cannot find, I cannot imagine any such reasoning. But I keep
    my mind still open to instruction, if any one will vouchsafe to bestow it on me.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum32"
    name="mnum32">32.</a></span></span> Should it be said that, from a number of uniform
    experiments, we <i>infer</i> a connexion between the sensible qualities and the
    secret powers; this, I must confess, seems the same difficulty, couched in different
    terms. The question still recurs, on what process of argument this <i>inference</i>
    is founded? Where is the medium, the interposing ideas, which join propositions so
    very wide of each other? It is confessed that the colour, consistence, and other
    sensible qualities of bread appear not, of themselves, to have any connexion with the
    secret powers of nourishment and support. For otherwise we could infer these secret
    powers from the first appearance of these sensible qualities, without the aid of
    experience; contrary to the sentiment of all philosophers, and contrary to plain
    matter of fact. Here, then, is our natural state of ignorance with regard to the
    powers and influence of all objects. How is this remedied by experience? It only
    shows us a number of uniform effects, resulting from certain objects, and teaches us
    that those particular objects, at that particular time, were endowed with such powers
    and forces. When a new object, endowed with similar sensible qualities, is produced,
    we expect similar powers and forces, and look for a like effect. From a body of like
    colour and consistence with bread we expect like nourishment and support. But this
    surely is a step or progress of the mind, which wants to be explained. When a man
    says, <i>I have found, in all past instances, such sensible qualities conjoined with
    such secret powers</i>: And when he says, <i>Similar sensible qualities will always
    be conjoined with similar secret powers</i>, he is not guilty of a tautology, nor are
    these propositions in any respect the same. You say that the one proposition is an
    inference from the other. But you must confess that the inference is not intuitive;
    neither is it demonstrative: Of what nature is it, then? To say it is experimental,
    is begging the question. For all inferences from experience suppose, as their
    foundation, that the future will resemble the past, and that similar powers will be
    conjoined with similar sensible qualities. If there be any suspicion that the course
    of nature may change, and that the past may be no rule for the future, all experience
    becomes useless, and can give rise to no inference or conclusion. It is impossible,
    therefore, that any arguments from experience can prove this resemblance of the past
    to the future; since all these arguments are founded on the supposition of that
    resemblance. Let the course of things be allowed hitherto ever so regular; that
    alone, without some new argument or inference, proves not that, for the future, it
    will continue so. In vain do you pretend to have learned the nature of bodies from
    your past experience. Their secret nature, and consequently all their effects and
    influence, may change, without any change in their sensible qualities. This happens
    sometimes, and with regard to some objects: Why may it not happen always, and with
    regard to all objects? What logic, what process of argument secures you against this
    supposition? My practice, you say, refutes my doubts. But you mistake the purport of
    my question. As an agent, I am quite satisfied in the point; but as a philosopher,
    who has some share of curiosity, I will not say scepticism, I want to learn the
    foundation of this inference. No reading, no enquiry has yet been able to remove my
    difficulty, or give me satisfaction in a matter of such importance. Can I do better
    than propose the difficulty to the public, even though, perhaps, I have small hopes
    of obtaining a solution? We shall at least, by this means, be sensible of our
    ignorance, if we do not augment our knowledge.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum33"
    name="mnum33">33.</a></span></span> I must confess that a man is guilty of
    unpardonable arrogance who concludes, because an argument has escaped his own
    investigation, that therefore it does not really exist. I must also confess that,
    though all the learned, for several ages, should have employed themselves in
    fruitless search upon any subject, it may still, perhaps, be rash to conclude
    positively that the subject must, therefore, pass all human comprehension. Even
    though we examine all the sources of our knowledge, and conclude them unfit for such
    a subject, there may still remain a suspicion, that the enumeration is not complete,
    or the examination not accurate. But with regard to the present subject, there are
    some considerations which seem to remove all this accusation of arrogance or
    suspicion of mistake.</p>
    <p>It is certain that the most ignorant and stupid peasants&mdash;nay infants, nay
    even brute beasts&mdash;improve by experience, and learn the qualities of natural
    objects, by observing the effects which result from them. When a child has felt the
    sensation of pain from touching the flame of a candle, he will be careful not to put
    his hand near any candle; but will expect a similar effect from a cause which is
    similar in its sensible qualities and appearance. If you assert, therefore, that the
    understanding of the child is led into this conclusion by any process of argument or
    ratiocination, I may justly require you to produce that argument; nor have you any
    pretence to refuse so equitable a demand. You cannot say that the argument is
    abstruse, and may possibly escape your enquiry; since you confess that it is obvious
    to the capacity of a mere infant. If you hesitate, therefore, a moment, or if, after
    reflection, you produce any intricate or profound argument, you, in a manner, give up
    the question, and confess that it is not reasoning which engages us to suppose the
    past resembling the future, and to expect similar effects from causes which are, to
    appearance, similar. This is the proposition which I intended to enforce in the
    present section. If I be right, I pretend not to have made any mighty discovery. And
    if I be wrong, I must acknowledge myself to be indeed a very backward scholar; since
    I cannot now discover an argument which, it seems, was perfectly familiar to me long
    before I was out of my cradle.</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section5" name="section5">SECTION V.</a></h2>
    <h3>SCEPTICAL SOLUTION OF THESE DOUBTS.</h3>
    <h4>PART I.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum34"
    name="mnum34">34.</a></span></span> The passion for philosophy, like that for
    religion, seems liable to this inconvenience, that, though it aims at the correction
    of our manners, and extirpation of our vices, it may only serve, by imprudent
    management, to foster a predominant inclination, and push the mind, with more
    determined resolution, towards that side which already <i>draws</i> too much, by the
    bias and propensity of the natural temper. It is certain that, while we aspire to the
    magnanimous firmness of the philosophic sage, and endeavour to confine our pleasures
    altogether within our own minds, we may, at last, render our philosophy like that of
    Epictetus, and other <i>Stoics</i>, only a more refined system of selfishness, and
    reason ourselves out of all virtue as well as social enjoyment. While we study with
    attention the vanity of human life, and turn all our thoughts towards the empty and
    transitory nature of riches and honours, we are, perhaps, all the while flattering
    our natural indolence, which, hating the bustle of the world, and drudgery of
    business, seeks a pretence of reason to give itself a full and uncontrolled
    indulgence. There is, however, one species of philosophy which seems little liable to
    this inconvenience, and that because it strikes in with no disorderly passion of the
    human mind, nor can mingle itself with any natural affection or propensity; and that
    is the Academic or Sceptical philosophy. The academics always talk of doubt and
    suspense of judgement, of danger in hasty determinations, of confining to very narrow
    bounds the enquiries of the understanding, and of renouncing all speculations which
    lie not within the limits of common life and practice. Nothing, therefore, can be
    more contrary than such a philosophy to the supine indolence of the mind, its rash
    arrogance, its lofty pretensions, and its superstitious credulity. Every passion is
    mortified by it, except the love of truth; and that passion never is, nor can be,
    carried to too high a degree. It is surprising, therefore, that this philosophy,
    which, in almost every instance, must be harmless and innocent, should be the subject
    of so much groundless reproach and obloquy. But, perhaps, the very circumstance which
    renders it so innocent is what chiefly exposes it to the public hatred and
    resentment. By flattering no irregular passion, it gains few partizans: By opposing
    so many vices and follies, it raises to itself abundance of enemies, who stigmatize
    it as libertine profane, and irreligious.</p>
    <p>Nor need we fear that this philosophy, while it endeavours to limit our enquiries
    to common life, should ever undermine the reasonings of common life, and carry its
    doubts so far as to destroy all action, as well as speculation. Nature will always
    maintain her rights, and prevail in the end over any abstract reasoning whatsoever.
    Though we should conclude, for instance, as in the foregoing section, that, in all
    reasonings from experience, there is a step taken by the mind which is not supported
    by any argument or process of the understanding; there is no danger that these
    reasonings, on which almost all knowledge depends, will ever be affected by such a
    discovery. If the mind be not engaged by argument to make this step, it must be
    induced by some other principle of equal weight and authority; and that principle
    will preserve its influence as long as human nature remains the same. What that
    principle is may well be worth the pains of enquiry.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum35"
    name="mnum35">35.</a></span></span> Suppose a person, though endowed with the
    strongest faculties of reason and reflection, to be brought on a sudden into this
    world; he would, indeed, immediately observe a continual succession of objects, and
    one event following another; but he would not be able to discover anything farther.
    He would not, at first, by any reasoning, be able to reach the idea of cause and
    effect; since the particular powers, by which all natural operations are performed,
    never appear to the senses; nor is it reasonable to conclude, merely because one
    event, in one instance, precedes another, that therefore 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 of one from the appearance of the other. And in a word,
    such a person, without more experience, could never employ his conjecture or
    reasoning concerning any matter of fact, or be assured of anything beyond what was
    immediately present to his memory and senses.</p>
    <p>Suppose, again, that he has acquired more experience, and has lived so long in the
    world as to have observed familiar objects or events to be constantly conjoined
    together; what is the consequence of this experience? He immediately infers the
    existence of one object from the appearance of the other. Yet he has not, by all his
    experience, acquired any idea or knowledge of the secret power by which the one
    object produces the other; nor is it, by any process of reasoning, he is engaged to
    draw this inference. But still he finds himself determined to draw it: And though he
    should be convinced that his understanding has no part in the operation, he would
    nevertheless continue in the same course of thinking. There is some other principle
    which determines him to form such a conclusion.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum36"
    name="mnum36">36.</a></span></span> This principle is Custom or Habit. For wherever
    the repetition of any particular act or operation produces a propensity to renew the
    same act or operation, without being impelled by any reasoning or process of the
    understanding, we always say, that this propensity is the effect of <i>Custom</i>. By
    employing that word, we pretend not to have given the ultimate reason of such a
    propensity. We only point out a principle of human nature, which is universally
    acknowledged, and which is well known by its effects. Perhaps we can push our
    enquiries no farther, or pretend to give the cause of this cause; but must rest
    contented with it as the ultimate principle, which we can assign, of all our
    conclusions from experience. It is sufficient satisfaction, that we can go so far,
    without repining at the narrowness of our faculties because they will carry us no
    farther. And it is certain we here advance a very intelligible proposition at least,
    if not a true one, when we assert that, after the constant conjunction of two
    objects&mdash;heat and flame, for instance, weight and solidity&mdash;we are
    determined by custom alone to expect the one from the appearance of the other. This
    hypothesis seems even the only one which explains the difficulty, why we draw, from a
    thousand instances, an inference which we are not able to draw from one instance,
    that is, in no respect, different from them. Reason is incapable of any such
    variation. The conclusions which it draws from considering one circle are the same
    which it would form upon surveying all the circles in the universe. But no man,
    having seen only one body move after being impelled by another, could infer that
    every other body will move after a like impulse. All inferences from experience,
    therefore, are effects of custom, not of reasoning<a id="footnotetag7"
    name="footnotetag7"></a><a href="#footnote7"><sup>7</sup></a>.</p>
    <p>Custom, then, is the great guide of human life. It is that principle alone which
    renders our experience useful to us, and makes us expect, for the future, a similar
    train of events with those which have appeared in the past.</p>
    <p>Without the influence of custom, we should be entirely ignorant of every matter of
    fact beyond what is immediately present to the memory and senses. We should never
    know how to adjust means to ends, or to employ our natural powers in the production
    of any effect. There would be an end at once of all action, as well as of the chief
    part of speculation.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum37"
    name="mnum37">37.</a></span></span> But here it may be proper to remark, that though
    our conclusions from experience carry us beyond our memory and senses, and assure us
    of matters of fact which happened in the most distant places and most remote ages,
    yet some fact must always be present to the senses or memory, from which we may first
    proceed in drawing these conclusions. A man, who should find in a desert country the
    remains of pompous buildings, would conclude that the country had, in ancient times,
    been cultivated by civilized inhabitants; but did nothing of this nature occur to
    him, he could never form such an inference. We learn the events of former ages from
    history; but then we must peruse the volumes in which this instruction is contained,
    and thence carry up our inferences from one testimony to another, till we arrive at
    the eyewitnesses and spectators of these distant events. In a word, if we proceed not
    upon some fact, present to the memory or senses, our reasonings would be merely
    hypothetical; and however the particular links might be connected with each other,
    the whole chain of inferences would have nothing to support it, nor could we ever, by
    its means, arrive at the knowledge of any real existence. If I ask why you believe
    any particular matter of fact, which you relate, you must tell me some reason; and
    this reason will be some other fact, connected with it. But as you cannot proceed
    after this manner, <i>in infinitum</i>, you must at last terminate in some fact,
    which is present to your memory or senses; or must allow that your belief is entirely
    without foundation.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum38"
    name="mnum38">38.</a></span></span> What, then, is the conclusion of the whole
    matter? A simple one; though, it must be confessed, pretty remote from the common
    theories of philosophy. All belief of matter of fact or real existence is derived
    merely from some object, present to the memory or senses, and a customary conjunction
    between that and some other object. Or in other words; having found, in many
    instances, that any two kinds of objects&mdash;flame and heat, snow and
    cold&mdash;have always been conjoined together; if flame or snow be presented anew to
    the senses, the mind is carried by custom to expect heat or cold, and to
    <i>believe</i> that such a quality does exist, and will discover itself upon a nearer
    approach. This belief is the necessary result of placing the mind in such
    circumstances. It is an operation of the soul, when we are so situated, as
    unavoidable as to feel the passion of love, when we receive benefits; or hatred, when
    we meet with injuries. All these operations are a species of natural instincts, which
    no reasoning or process of the thought and understanding is able either to produce or
    to prevent.</p>
    <p>At this point, it would be very allowable for us to stop our philosophical
    researches. In most questions we can never make a single step farther; and in all
    questions we must terminate here at last, after our most restless and curious
    enquiries. But still our curiosity will be pardonable, perhaps commendable, if it
    carry us on to still farther researches, and make us examine more accurately the
    nature of this <i>belief</i>, and of the <i>customary conjunction</i>, whence it is
    derived. By this means we may meet with some explications and analogies that will
    give satisfaction; at least to such as love the abstract sciences, and can be
    entertained with speculations, which, however accurate, may still retain a degree of
    doubt and uncertainty. As to readers of a different taste; the remaining part of this
    section is not calculated for them, and the following enquiries may well be
    understood, though it be neglected.</p>
    <h4>PART II.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum39"
    name="mnum39">39.</a></span></span> Nothing is more free than the imagination of man;
    and though it cannot exceed that original stock of ideas furnished by the internal
    and external senses, it has unlimited power of mixing, compounding, separating, and
    dividing these ideas, in all the varieties of fiction and vision. It can feign a
    train of events, with all the appearance of reality, ascribe to them a particular
    time and place, conceive them as existent, and paint them out to itself with every
    circumstance, that belongs to any historical fact, which it believes with the
    greatest certainty. Wherein, therefore, consists the difference between such a
    fiction and belief? It lies not merely in any peculiar idea, which is annexed to such
    a conception as commands our assent, and which is wanting to every known fiction. For
    as the mind has authority over all its ideas, it could voluntarily annex this
    particular idea to any fiction, and consequently be able to believe whatever it
    pleases; contrary to what we find by daily experience. We can, in our conception,
    join the head of a man to the body of a horse; but it is not in our power to believe
    that such an animal has ever really existed.</p>
    <p>It follows, therefore, that the difference between <i>fiction</i> and
    <i>belief</i> lies in some sentiment or feeling, which is annexed to the latter, not
    to the former, and which depends not on the will, nor can be commanded at pleasure.
    It must be excited by nature, like all other sentiments; and must arise from the
    particular situation, in which the mind is placed at any particular juncture.
    Whenever any object is presented to the memory or senses, it immediately, by the
    force of custom, carries the imagination to conceive that object, which is usually
    conjoined to it; and this conception is attended with a feeling or sentiment,
    different from the loose reveries of the fancy. In this consists the whole nature of
    belief. For as there is no matter of fact which we believe so firmly that we cannot
    conceive the contrary, there would be no difference between the conception assented
    to and that which is rejected, were it not for some sentiment which distinguishes the
    one from the other. If I see a billiard-ball moving towards another, on a smooth
    table, I can easily conceive it to stop upon contact. This conception implies no
    contradiction; but still it feels very differently from that conception by which I
    represent to myself the impulse and the communication of motion from one ball to
    another.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum40"
    name="mnum40">40.</a></span></span> Were we to attempt a <i>definition</i> of this
    sentiment, we should, perhaps, find it a very difficult, if not an impossible task;
    in the same manner as if we should endeavour to define the feeling of cold or passion
    of anger, to a creature who never had any experience of these sentiments. Belief is
    the true and proper name of this feeling; and no one is ever at a loss to know the
    meaning of that term; because every man is every moment conscious of the sentiment
    represented by it. It may not, however, be improper to attempt a <i>description</i>
    of this sentiment; in hopes we may, by that means, arrive at some analogies, which
    may afford a more perfect explication of it. I say, then, that belief is nothing but
    a more vivid, lively, forcible, firm, steady conception of an object, than what the
    imagination alone is ever able to attain. This variety of terms, which may seem so
    unphilosophical, is intended only to express that act of the mind, which renders
    realities, or what is taken for such, more present to us than fictions, causes them
    to weigh more in the thought, and gives them a superior influence on the passions and
    imagination. Provided we agree about the thing, it is needless to dispute about the
    terms. The imagination has the command over all its ideas, and can join and mix and
    vary them, in all the ways possible. It may conceive fictitious objects with all the
    circumstances of place and time. It may set them, in a manner, before our eyes, in
    their true colours, just as they might have existed. But as it is impossible that
    this faculty of imagination can ever, of itself, reach belief, it is evident that
    belief consists not in the peculiar nature or order of ideas, but in the
    <i>manner</i> of their conception, and in their <i>feeling</i> to the mind. I
    confess, that it is impossible perfectly to explain this feeling or manner of
    conception. We may make use of words which express something near it. But its true
    and proper name, as we observed before, is <i>belief</i>; which is a term that every
    one sufficiently understands in common life. And in philosophy, we can go no farther
    than assert, that <i>belief</i> is something felt by the mind, which distinguishes
    the ideas of the judgement from the fictions of the imagination. It gives them more
    weight and influence; makes them appear of greater importance; enforces them in the
    mind; and renders them the governing principle of our actions. I hear at present, for
    instance, a person's voice, with whom I am acquainted; and the sound comes as from
    the next room. This impression of my senses immediately conveys my thought to the
    person, together with all the surrounding objects. I paint them out to myself as
    existing at present, with the same qualities and relations, of which I formerly knew
    them possessed. These ideas take faster hold of my mind than ideas of an enchanted
    castle. They are very different to the feeling, and have a much greater influence of
    every kind, either to give pleasure or pain, joy or sorrow.</p>
    <p>Let us, then, take in the whole compass of this doctrine, and allow, that the
    sentiment of belief is nothing but a conception more intense and steady than what
    attends the mere fictions of the imagination, and that this <i>manner</i> of
    conception arises from a customary conjunction of the object with something present
    to the memory or senses: I believe that it will not be difficult, upon these
    suppositions, to find other operations of the mind analogous to it, and to trace up
    these phenomena to principles still more general.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum41"
    name="mnum41">41.</a></span></span> We have already observed that nature has
    established connexions among particular ideas, and that no sooner one idea occurs to
    our thoughts than it introduces its correlative, and carries our attention towards
    it, by a gentle and insensible movement. These principles of connexion or association
    we have reduced to three, namely, <i>Resemblance</i>, <i>Contiguity</i> and
    <i>Causation</i>; which are the only bonds that unite our thoughts together, and
    beget that regular train of reflection or discourse, which, in a greater or less
    degree, takes place among all mankind. Now here arises a question, on which the
    solution of the present difficulty will depend. Does it happen, in all these
    relations, that, when one of the objects is presented to the senses or memory, the
    mind is not only carried to the conception of the correlative, but reaches a steadier
    and stronger conception of it than what otherwise it would have been able to attain?
    This seems to be the case with that belief which arises from the relation of cause
    and effect. And if the case be the same with the other relations or principles of
    associations, this may be established as a general law, which takes place in all the
    operations of the mind.</p>
    <p>We may, therefore, observe, as the first experiment to our present purpose, that,
    upon the appearance of the picture of an absent friend, our idea of him is evidently
    enlivened by the <i>resemblance</i>, and that every passion, which that idea
    occasions, whether of joy or sorrow, acquires new force and vigour. In producing this
    effect, there concur both a relation and a present impression. Where the picture
    bears him no resemblance, at least was not intended for him, it never so much as
    conveys our thought to him: And where it is absent, as well as the person, though the
    mind may pass from the thought of the one to that of the other, it feels its idea to
    be rather weakened than enlivened by that transition. We take a pleasure in viewing
    the picture of a friend, when it is set before us; but when it is removed, rather
    choose to consider him directly than by reflection in an image, which is equally
    distant and obscure.</p>
    <p>The ceremonies of the Roman Catholic religion may be considered as instances of
    the same nature. The devotees of that superstition usually plead in excuse for the
    mummeries, with which they are upbraided, that they feel the good effect of those
    external motions, and postures, and actions, in enlivening their devotion and
    quickening their fervour, which otherwise would decay, if directed entirely to
    distant and immaterial objects. We shadow out the objects of our faith, say they, in
    sensible types and images, and render them more present to us by the immediate
    presence of these types, than it is possible for us to do merely by an intellectual
    view and contemplation. Sensible objects have always a greater influence on the fancy
    than any other; and this influence they readily convey to those ideas to which they
    are related, and which they resemble. I shall only infer from these practices, and
    this reasoning, that the effect of resemblance in enlivening the ideas is very
    common; and as in every case a resemblance and a present impression must concur, we
    are abundantly supplied with experiments to prove the reality of the foregoing
    principle.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum42"
    name="mnum42">42.</a></span></span> We may add force to these experiments by others
    of a different kind, in considering the effects of <i>contiguity</i> as well as of
    <i>resemblance</i>. It is certain that distance diminishes the force of every idea,
    and that, upon our approach to any object; though it does not discover itself to our
    senses; it operates upon the mind with an influence, which imitates an immediate
    impression. The thinking on any object readily transports the mind to what is
    contiguous; but it is only the actual presence of an object, that transports it with
    a superior vivacity. When I am a few miles from home, whatever relates to it touches
    me more nearly than when I am two hundred leagues distant; though even at that
    distance the reflecting on any thing in the neighbourhood of my friends or family
    naturally produces an idea of them. But as in this latter case, both the objects of
    the mind are ideas; notwithstanding there is an easy transition between them; that
    transition alone is not able to give a superior vivacity to any of the ideas, for
    want of some immediate impression<a id="footnotetag8" name="footnotetag8"></a><a
    href="#footnote8"><sup>8</sup></a>.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum43"
    name="mnum43">43.</a></span></span> No one can doubt but causation has the same
    influence as the other two relations of resemblance and contiguity. Superstitious
    people are fond of the reliques of saints and holy men, for the same reason, that
    they seek after types or images, in order to enliven their devotion, and give them a
    more intimate and strong conception of those exemplary lives, which they desire to
    imitate. Now it is evident, that one of the best reliques, which a devotee could
    procure, would be the handywork of a saint; and if his cloaths and furniture are ever
    to be considered in this light, it is because they were once at his disposal, and
    were moved and affected by him; in which respect they are to be considered as
    imperfect effects, and as connected with him by a shorter chain of consequences than
    any of those, by which we learn the reality of his existence.</p>
    <p>Suppose, that the son of a friend, who had been long dead or absent, were
    presented to us; it is evident, that this object would instantly revive its
    correlative idea, and recal to our thoughts all past intimacies and familiarities, in
    more lively colours than they would otherwise have appeared to us. This is another
    phaenomenon, which seems to prove the principle above mentioned.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum44"
    name="mnum44">44.</a></span></span> We may observe, that, in these phaenomena, the
    belief of the correlative object is always presupposed; without which the relation
    could have no effect. The influence of the picture supposes, that we <i>believe</i>
    our friend to have once existed. Contiguity to home can never excite our ideas of
    home, unless we <i>believe</i> that it really exists. Now I assert, that this belief,
    where it reaches beyond the memory or senses, is of a similar nature, and arises from
    similar causes, with the transition of thought and vivacity of conception here
    explained. When I throw a piece of dry wood into a fire, my mind is immediately
    carried to conceive, that it augments, not extinguishes the flame. This transition of
    thought from the cause to the effect proceeds not from reason. It derives its origin
    altogether from custom and experience. And as it first begins from an object, present
    to the senses, it renders the idea or conception of flame more strong and lively than
    any loose, floating reverie of the imagination. That idea arises immediately. The
    thought moves instantly towards it, and conveys to it all that force of conception,
    which is derived from the impression present to the senses. When a sword is levelled
    at my breast, does not the idea of wound and pain strike me more strongly, than when
    a glass of wine is presented to me, even though by accident this idea should occur
    after the appearance of the latter object? But what is there in this whole matter to
    cause such a strong conception, except only a present object and a customary
    transition to the idea of another object, which we have been accustomed to conjoin
    with the former? This is the whole operation of the mind, in all our conclusions
    concerning matter of fact and existence; and it is a satisfaction to find some
    analogies, by which it may be explained. The transition from a present object does in
    all cases give strength and solidity to the related idea.</p>
    <p>Here, then, is a kind of pre-established harmony between the course of nature and
    the succession of our ideas; and though the powers and forces, by which the former is
    governed, be wholly unknown to us; yet our thoughts and conceptions have still, we
    find, gone on in the same train with the other works of nature. Custom is that
    principle, by which this correspondence has been effected; so necessary to the
    subsistence of our species, and the regulation of our conduct, in every circumstance
    and occurrence of human life. Had not the presence of an object, instantly excited
    the idea of those objects, commonly conjoined with it, all our knowledge must have
    been limited to the narrow sphere of our memory and senses; and we should never have
    been able to adjust means to ends, or employ our natural powers, either to the
    producing of good, or avoiding of evil. Those, who delight in the discovery and
    contemplation of <i>final causes</i>, have here ample subject to employ their wonder
    and admiration.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum45"
    name="mnum45">45.</a></span></span> I shall add, for a further confirmation of the
    foregoing theory, that, as this operation of the mind, by which we infer like effects
    from like causes, and <i>vice versa</i>, is so essential to the subsistence of all
    human creatures, it is not probable, that it could be trusted to the fallacious
    deductions of our reason, which is slow in its operations; appears not, in any
    degree, during the first years of infancy; and at best is, in every age and period of
    human life, extremely liable to error and mistake. It is more conformable to the
    ordinary wisdom of nature to secure so necessary an act of the mind, by some instinct
    or mechanical tendency, which may be infallible in its operations, may discover
    itself at the first appearance of life and thought, and may be independent of all the
    laboured deductions of the understanding. As nature has taught us the use of our
    limbs, without giving us the knowledge of the muscles and nerves, by which they are
    actuated; so has she implanted in us an instinct, which carries forward the thought
    in a correspondent course to that which she has established among external objects;
    though we are ignorant of those powers and forces, on which this regular course and
    succession of objects totally depends.</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section6" name="section6">SECTION VI</a></h2>
    <h3>OF PROBABILITY<a id="footnotetag9" name="footnotetag9"></a><a
    href="#footnote9"><sup>9</sup></a>.</h3>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum46"
    name="mnum46">46.</a></span></span> Though there be no such thing as <i>Chance</i> in
    the world; our ignorance of the real cause of any event has the same influence on the
    understanding, and begets a like species of belief or opinion.</p>
    <p>There is certainly a probability, which arises from a superiority of chances on
    any side; and according as this superiority encreases, and surpasses the opposite
    chances, the probability receives a proportionable encrease, and begets still a
    higher degree of belief or assent to that side, in which we discover the superiority.
    If a dye were marked with one figure or number of spots on four sides, and with
    another figure or number of spots on the two remaining sides, it would be more
    probable, that the former would turn up than the latter; though, if it had a thousand
    sides marked in the same manner, and only one side different, the probability would
    be much higher, and our belief or expectation of the event more steady and secure.
    This process of the thought or reasoning may seem trivial and obvious; but to those
    who consider it more narrowly, it may, perhaps, afford matter for curious
    speculation.</p>
    <p>It seems evident, that, when the mind looks forward to discover the event, which
    may result from the throw of such a dye, it considers the turning up of each
    particular side as alike probable; and this is the very nature of chance, to render
    all the particular events, comprehended in it, entirely equal. But finding a greater
    number of sides concur in the one event than in the other, the mind is carried more
    frequently to that event, and meets it oftener, in revolving the various
    possibilities or chances, on which the ultimate result depends. This concurrence of
    several views in one particular event begets immediately, by an inexplicable
    contrivance of nature, the sentiment of belief, and gives that event the advantage
    over its antagonist, which is supported by a smaller number of views, and recurs less
    frequently to the mind. If we allow, that belief is nothing but a firmer and stronger
    conception of an object than what attends the mere fictions of the imagination, this
    operation may, perhaps, in some measure, be accounted for. The concurrence of these
    several views or glimpses imprints the idea more strongly on the imagination; gives
    it superior force and vigour; renders its influence on the passions and affections
    more sensible; and in a word, begets that reliance or security, which constitutes the
    nature of belief and opinion.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum47"
    name="mnum47">47.</a></span></span> The case is the same with the probability of
    causes, as with that of chance. There are some causes, which are entirely uniform and
    constant in producing a particular effect; and no instance has ever yet been found of
    any failure or irregularity in their operation. Fire has always burned, and water
    suffocated every human creature: The production of motion by impulse and gravity is
    an universal law, which has hitherto admitted of no exception. But there are other
    causes, which have been found more irregular and uncertain; nor has rhubarb always
    proved a purge, or opium a soporific to every one, who has taken these medicines. It
    is true, when any cause fails of producing its usual effect, philosophers ascribe not
    this to any irregularity in nature; but suppose, that some secret causes, in the
    particular structure of parts, have prevented the operation. Our reasonings, however,
    and conclusions concerning the event are the same as if this principle had no place.
    Being determined by custom to transfer the past to the future, in all our inferences;
    where the past has been entirely regular and uniform, we expect the event with the
    greatest assurance, and leave no room for any contrary supposition. But where
    different effects have been found to follow from causes, which are to
    <i>appearance</i> exactly similar, all these various effects must occur to the mind
    in transferring the past to the future, and enter into our consideration, when we
    determine the probability of the event. Though we give the preference to that which
    has been found most usual, and believe that this effect will exist, we must not
    overlook the other effects, but must assign to each of them a particular weight and
    authority, in proportion as we have found it to be more or less frequent. It is more
    probable, in almost every country of Europe, that there will be frost sometime in
    January, than that the weather will continue open throughout that whole month; though
    this probability varies according to the different climates, and approaches to a
    certainty in the more northern kingdoms. Here then it seems evident, that, when we
    transfer the past to the future, in order to determine the effect, which will result
    from any cause, we transfer all the different events, in the same proportion as they
    have appeared in the past, and conceive one to have existed a hundred times, for
    instance, another ten times, and another once. As a great number of views do here
    concur in one event, they fortify and confirm it to the imagination, beget that
    sentiment which we call <i>belief,</i> and give its object the preference above the
    contrary event, which is not supported by an equal number of experiments, and recurs
    not so frequently to the thought in transferring the past to the future. Let any one
    try to account for this operation of the mind upon any of the received systems of
    philosophy, and he will be sensible of the difficulty. For my part, I shall think it
    sufficient, if the present hints excite the curiosity of philosophers, and make them
    sensible how defective all common theories are in treating of such curious and such
    sublime subjects.</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section7" name="section7">SECTION VII.</a></h2>
    <h3>OF THE IDEA OF NECESSARY CONNEXION.</h3>
    <h4>PART I.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum48"
    name="mnum48">48.</a></span></span> The great advantage of the mathematical sciences
    above the moral consists in this, that the ideas of the former, being sensible, are
    always clear and determinate, the smallest distinction between them is immediately
    perceptible, and the same terms are still expressive of the same ideas, without
    ambiguity or variation. An oval is never mistaken for a circle, nor an hyperbola for
    an ellipsis. The isosceles and scalenum are distinguished by boundaries more exact
    than vice and virtue, right and wrong. If any term be defined in geometry, the mind
    readily, of itself, substitutes, on all occasions, the definition for the term
    defined: Or even when no definition is employed, the object itself may be presented
    to the senses, and by that means be steadily and clearly apprehended. But the finer
    sentiments of the mind, the operations of the understanding, the various agitations
    of the passions, though really in themselves distinct, easily escape us, when
    surveyed by reflection; nor is it in our power to recal the original object, as often
    as we have occasion to contemplate it. Ambiguity, by this means, is gradually
    introduced into our reasonings: Similar objects are readily taken to be the same: And
    the conclusion becomes at last very wide of the premises.</p>
    <p>One may safely, however, affirm, that, if we consider these sciences in a proper
    light, their advantages and disadvantages nearly compensate each other, and reduce
    both of them to a state of equality. If the mind, with greater facility, retains the
    ideas of geometry clear and determinate, it must carry on a much longer and more
    intricate chain of reasoning, and compare ideas much wider of each other, in order to
    reach the abstruser truths of that science. And if moral ideas are apt, without
    extreme care, to fall into obscurity and confusion, the inferences are always much
    shorter in these disquisitions, and the intermediate steps, which lead to the
    conclusion, much fewer than in the sciences which treat of quantity and number. In
    reality, there is scarcely a proposition in Euclid so simple, as not to consist of
    more parts, than are to be found in any moral reasoning which runs not into chimera
    and conceit. Where we trace the principles of the human mind through a few steps, we
    may be very well satisfied with our progress; considering how soon nature throws a
    bar to all our enquiries concerning causes, and reduces us to an acknowledgment of
    our ignorance. The chief obstacle, therefore, to our improvement in the moral or
    metaphysical sciences is the obscurity of the ideas, and ambiguity of the terms. The
    principal difficulty in the mathematics is the length of inferences and compass of
    thought, requisite to the forming of any conclusion. And, perhaps, our progress in
    natural philosophy is chiefly retarded by the want of proper experiments and
    phaenomena, which are often discovered by chance, and cannot always be found, when
    requisite, even by the most diligent and prudent enquiry. As moral philosophy seems
    hitherto to have received less improvement than either geometry or physics, we may
    conclude, that, if there be any difference in this respect among these sciences, the
    difficulties, which obstruct the progress of the former, require superior care and
    capacity to be surmounted.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum49"
    name="mnum49">49.</a></span></span> There are no ideas, which occur in metaphysics,
    more obscure and uncertain, than those of <i>power, force, energy</i> or <i>necessary
    connexion</i>, of which it is every moment necessary for us to treat in all our
    disquisitions. We shall, therefore, endeavour, in this section, to fix, if possible,
    the precise meaning of these terms, and thereby remove some part of that obscurity,
    which is so much complained of in this species of philosophy.</p>
    <p>It seems a proposition, which will not admit of much dispute, that all our ideas
    are nothing but copies of our impressions, or, in other words, that it is impossible
    for us to <i>think</i> of any thing, which we have not antecedently <i>felt</i>,
    either by our external or internal senses. I have endeavoured<a id="footnotetag10"
    name="footnotetag10"></a><a href="#footnote10"><sup>10</sup></a> to explain and prove
    this proposition, and have expressed my hopes, that, by a proper application of it,
    men may reach a greater clearness and precision in philosophical reasonings, than
    what they have hitherto been able to attain. Complex ideas may, perhaps, be well
    known by definition, which is nothing but an enumeration of those parts or simple
    ideas, that compose them. But when we have pushed up definitions to the most simple
    ideas, and find still some ambiguity and obscurity; what resource are we then
    possessed of? By what invention can we throw light upon these ideas, and render them
    altogether precise and determinate to our intellectual view? Produce the impressions
    or original sentiments, from which the ideas are copied. These impressions are all
    strong and sensible. They admit not of ambiguity. They are not only placed in a full
    light themselves, but may throw light on their correspondent ideas, which lie in
    obscurity. And by this means, we may, perhaps, attain a new microscope or species of
    optics, by which, in the moral sciences, the most minute, and most simple ideas may
    be so enlarged as to fall readily under our apprehension, and be equally known with
    the grossest and most sensible ideas, that can be the object of our enquiry.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum50"
    name="mnum50">50.</a></span></span> To be fully acquainted, therefore, with the idea
    of power or necessary connexion, let us examine its impression; and in order to find
    the impression with greater certainty, let us search for it in all the sources, from
    which it may possibly be derived.</p>
    <p>When we look about us towards external objects, and consider the operation of
    causes, we are never able, in a single instance, to discover any power or necessary
    connexion; any quality, which binds the effect to the cause, and renders the one an
    infallible consequence of the other. We only find, that the one does actually, in
    fact, follow the other. The impulse of one billiard-ball is attended with motion in
    the second. This is the whole that appears to the <i>outward</i> senses. The mind
    feels no sentiment or <i>inward</i> impression from this succession of objects:
    Consequently, there is not, in any single, particular instance of cause and effect,
    any thing which can suggest the idea of power or necessary connexion.</p>
    <p>From the first appearance of an object, we never can conjecture what effect will
    result from it. But were the power or energy of any cause discoverable by the mind,
    we could foresee the effect, even without experience; and might, at first, pronounce
    with certainty concerning it, by mere dint of thought and reasoning.</p>
    <p>In reality, there is no part of matter, that does ever, by its sensible qualities,
    discover any power or energy, or give us ground to imagine, that it could produce any
    thing, or be followed by any other object, which we could denominate its effect.
    Solidity, extension, motion; these qualities are all complete in themselves, and
    never point out any other event which may result from them. The scenes of the
    universe are continually shifting, and one object follows another in an uninterrupted
    succession; but the power of force, which actuates the whole machine, is entirely
    concealed from us, and never discovers itself in any of the sensible qualities of
    body. We know, that, in fact, heat is a constant attendant of flame; but what is the
    connexion between them, we have no room so much as to conjecture or imagine. It is
    impossible, therefore, that the idea of power can be derived from the contemplation
    of bodies, in single instances of their operation; because no bodies ever discover
    any power, which can be the original of this idea.<a id="footnotetag11"
    name="footnotetag11"></a><a href="#footnote11"><sup>11</sup></a></p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum51"
    name="mnum51">51.</a></span></span> Since, therefore, external objects as they appear
    to the senses, give us no idea of power or necessary connexion, by their operation in
    particular instances, let us see, whether this idea be derived from reflection on the
    operations of our own minds, and be copied from any internal impression. It may be
    said, that we are every moment conscious of internal power; while we feel, that, by
    the simple command of our will, we can move the organs of our body, or direct the
    faculties of our mind. An act of volition produces motion in our limbs, or raises a
    new idea in our imagination. This influence of the will we know by consciousness.
    Hence we acquire the idea of power or energy; and are certain, that we ourselves and
    all other intelligent beings are possessed of power. This idea, then, is an idea of
    reflection, since it arises from reflecting on the operations of our own mind, and on
    the command which is exercised by will, both over the organs of the body and
    faculties of the soul.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum52"
    name="mnum52">52.</a></span></span> We shall proceed to examine this pretension; and
    first with regard to the influence of volition over the organs of the body. This
    influence, we may observe, is a fact, which, like all other natural events, can be
    known only by experience, and can never be foreseen from any apparent energy or power
    in the cause, which connects it with the effect, and renders the one an infallible
    consequence of the other. The motion of our body follows upon the command of our
    will. Of this we are every moment conscious. But the means, by which this is
    effected; the energy, by which the will performs so extraordinary an operation; of
    this we are so far from being immediately conscious, that it must for ever escape our
    most diligent enquiry.</p>
    <p>For <i>first</i>; is there any principle in all nature more mysterious than the
    union of soul with body; by which a supposed spiritual substance acquires such an
    influence over a material one, that the most refined thought is able to actuate the
    grossest matter? Were we empowered, by a secret wish, to remove mountains, or control
    the planets in their orbit; this extensive authority would not be more extraordinary,
    nor more beyond our comprehension. But if by consciousness we perceived any power or
    energy in the will, we must know this power; we must know its connexion with the
    effect; we must know the secret union of soul and body, and the nature of both these
    substances; by which the one is able to operate, in so many instances, upon the
    other.</p>
    <p><i>Secondly</i>, We are not able to move all the organs of the body with a like
    authority; though we cannot assign any reason besides experience, for so remarkable a
    difference between one and the other. Why has the will an influence over the tongue
    and fingers, not over the heart or liver? This question would never embarrass us,
    were we conscious of a power in the former case, not in the latter. We should then
    perceive, independent of experience, why the authority of will over the organs of the
    body is circumscribed within such particular limits. Being in that case fully
    acquainted with the power or force, by which it operates, we should also know, why
    its influence reaches precisely to such boundaries, and no farther.</p>
    <p>A man, suddenly struck with palsy in the leg or arm, or who had newly lost those
    members, frequently endeavours, at first to move them, and employ them in their usual
    offices. Here he is as much conscious of power to command such limbs, as a man in
    perfect health is conscious of power to actuate any member which remains in its
    natural state and condition. But consciousness never deceives. Consequently, neither
    in the one case nor in the other, are we ever conscious of any power. We learn the
    influence of our will from experience alone. And experience only teaches us, how one
    event constantly follows another; without instructing us in the secret connexion,
    which binds them together, and renders them inseparable.</p>
    <p><i>Thirdly,</i> We learn from anatomy, that the immediate object of power in
    voluntary motion, is not the member itself which is moved, but certain muscles, and
    nerves, and animal spirits, and, perhaps, something still more minute and more
    unknown, through which the motion is successively propagated, ere it reach the member
    itself whose motion is the immediate object of volition. Can there be a more certain
    proof, that the power, by which this whole operation is performed, so far from being
    directly and fully known by an inward sentiment or consciousness, is, to the last
    degree mysterious and unintelligible? Here the mind wills a certain event:
    Immediately another event, unknown to ourselves, and totally different from the one
    intended, is produced: This event produces another, equally unknown: Till at last,
    through a long succession, the desired event is produced. But if the original power
    were felt, it must be known: Were it known, its effect also must be known; since all
    power is relative to its effect. And <i>vice versa,</i> if the effect be not known,
    the power cannot be known nor felt. How indeed can we be conscious of a power to move
    our limbs, when we have no such power; but only that to move certain animal spirits,
    which, though they produce at last the motion of our limbs, yet operate in such a
    manner as is wholly beyond our comprehension?</p>
    <p>We may, therefore, conclude from the whole, I hope, without any temerity, though
    with assurance; that our idea of power is not copied from any sentiment or
    consciousness of power within ourselves, when we give rise to animal motion, or apply
    our limbs to their proper use and office. That their motion follows the command of
    the will is a matter of common experience, like other natural events: But the power
    or energy by which this is effected, like that in other natural events, is unknown
    and inconceivable.<a id="footnotetag12" name="footnotetag12"></a><a
    href="#footnote12"><sup>12</sup></a></p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum53"
    name="mnum53">53.</a></span></span> Shall we then assert, that we are conscious of a
    power or energy in our own minds, when, by an act or command of our will, we raise up
    a new idea, fix the mind to the contemplation of it, turn it on all sides, and at
    last dismiss it for some other idea, when we think that we have surveyed it with
    sufficient accuracy? I believe the same arguments will prove, that even this command
    of the will gives us no real idea of force or energy.</p>
    <p><i>First,</i> It must be allowed, that, when we know a power, we know that very
    circumstance in the cause, by which it is enabled to produce the effect: For these
    are supposed to be synonimous. We must, therefore, know both the cause and effect,
    and the relation between them. But do we pretend to be acquainted with the nature of
    the human soul and the nature of an idea, or the aptitude of the one to produce the
    other? This is a real creation; a production of something out of nothing: Which
    implies a power so great, that it may seem, at first sight, beyond the reach of any
    being, less than infinite. At least it must be owned, that such a power is not felt,
    nor known, nor even conceivable by the mind. We only feel the event, namely, the
    existence of an idea, consequent to a command of the will: But the manner, in which
    this operation is performed, the power by which it is produced, is entirely beyond
    our comprehension.</p>
    <p><i>Secondly</i>, The command of the mind over itself is limited, as well as its
    command over the body; and these limits are not known by reason, or any acquaintance
    with the nature of cause and effect, but only by experience and observation, as in
    all other natural events and in the operation of external objects. Our authority over
    our sentiments and passions is much weaker than that over our ideas; and even the
    latter authority is circumscribed within very narrow boundaries. Will any one pretend
    to assign the ultimate reason of these boundaries, or show why the power is deficient
    in one case, not in another.</p>
    <p><i>Thirdly</i>, This self-command is very different at different times. A man in
    health possesses more of it than one languishing with sickness. We are more master of
    our thoughts in the morning than in the evening: Fasting, than after a full meal. Can
    we give any reason for these variations, except experience? Where then is the power,
    of which we pretend to be conscious? Is there not here, either in a spiritual or
    material substance, or both, some secret mechanism or structure of parts, upon which
    the effect depends, and which, being entirely unknown to us, renders the power or
    energy of the will equally unknown and incomprehensible?</p>
    <p>Volition is surely an act of the mind, with which we are sufficiently acquainted.
    Reflect upon it. Consider it on all sides. Do you find anything in it like this
    creative power, by which it raises from nothing a new idea, and with a kind of
    <i>Fiat</i>, imitates the omnipotence of its Maker, if I may be allowed so to speak,
    who called forth into existence all the various scenes of nature? So far from being
    conscious of this energy in the will, it requires as certain experience as that of
    which we are possessed, to convince us that such extraordinary effects do ever result
    from a simple act of volition.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum54"
    name="mnum54">54.</a></span></span> The generality of mankind never find any
    difficulty in accounting for the more common and familiar operations of
    nature&mdash;such as the descent of heavy bodies, the growth of plants, the
    generation of animals, or the nourishment of bodies by food: But suppose that, in all
    these cases, they perceive the very force or energy of the cause, by which it is
    connected with its effect, and is for ever infallible in its operation. They acquire,
    by long habit, such a turn of mind, that, upon the appearance of the cause, they
    immediately expect with assurance its usual attendant, and hardly conceive it
    possible that any other event could result from it. It is only on the discovery of
    extraordinary phaenomena, such as earthquakes, pestilence, and prodigies of any kind,
    that they find themselves at a loss to assign a proper cause, and to explain the
    manner in which the effect is produced by it. It is usual for men, in such
    difficulties, to have recourse to some invisible intelligent principle<a
    id="footnotetag13" name="footnotetag13"></a><a href="#footnote13"><sup>13</sup></a>
    as the immediate cause of that event which surprises them, and which, they think,
    cannot be accounted for from the common powers of nature. But philosophers, who carry
    their scrutiny a little farther, immediately perceive that, even in the most familiar
    events, the energy of the cause is as unintelligible as in the most unusual, and that
    we only learn by experience the frequent <i>Conjunction</i> of objects, without being
    ever able to comprehend anything like <i>Connexion</i> between them.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum55"
    name="mnum55">55.</a></span></span> Here, then, many philosophers think themselves
    obliged by reason to have recourse, on all occasions, to the same principle, which
    the vulgar never appeal to but in cases that appear miraculous and supernatural. They
    acknowledge mind and intelligence to be, not only the ultimate and original cause of
    all things, but the immediate and sole cause of every event which appears in nature.
    They pretend that those objects which are commonly denominated <i>causes,</i> are in
    reality nothing but <i>occasions;</i> and that the true and direct principle of every
    effect is not any power or force in nature, but a volition of the Supreme Being, who
    wills that such particular objects should for ever be conjoined with each other.
    Instead of saying that one billiard-ball moves another by a force which it has
    derived from the author of nature, it is the Deity himself, they say, who, by a
    particular volition, moves the second ball, being determined to this operation by the
    impulse of the first ball, in consequence of those general laws which he has laid
    down to himself in the government of the universe. But philosophers advancing still
    in their inquiries, discover that, as we are totally ignorant of the power on which
    depends the mutual operation of bodies, we are no less ignorant of that power on
    which depends the operation of mind on body, or of body on mind; nor are we able,
    either from our senses or consciousness, to assign the ultimate principle in one case
    more than in the other. The same ignorance, therefore, reduces them to the same
    conclusion. They assert that the Deity is the immediate cause of the union between
    soul and body; and that they are not the organs of sense, which, being agitated by
    external objects, produce sensations in the mind; but that it is a particular
    volition of our omnipotent Maker, which excites such a sensation, in consequence of
    such a motion in the organ. In like manner, it is not any energy in the will that
    produces local motion in our members: It is God himself, who is pleased to second our
    will, in itself impotent, and to command that motion which we erroneously attribute
    to our own power and efficacy. Nor do philosophers stop at this conclusion. They
    sometimes extend the same inference to the mind itself, in its internal operations.
    Our mental vision or conception of ideas is nothing but a revelation made to us by
    our Maker. When we voluntarily turn our thoughts to any object, and raise up its
    image in the fancy, it is not the will which creates that idea: It is the universal
    Creator, who discovers it to the mind, and renders it present to us.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum56"
    name="mnum56">56.</a></span></span> Thus, according to these philosophers, every
    thing is full of God. Not content with the principle, that nothing exists but by his
    will, that nothing possesses any power but by his concession: They rob nature, and
    all created beings, of every power, in order to render their dependence on the Deity
    still more sensible and immediate. They consider not that, by this theory, they
    diminish, instead of magnifying, the grandeur of those attributes, which they affect
    so much to celebrate. It argues surely more power in the Deity to delegate a certain
    degree of power to inferior creatures than to produce every thing by his own
    immediate volition. It argues more wisdom to contrive at first the fabric of the
    world with such perfect foresight that, of itself, and by its proper operation, it
    may serve all the purposes of providence, than if the great Creator were obliged
    every moment to adjust its parts, and animate by his breath all the wheels of that
    stupendous machine.</p>
    <p>But if we would have a more philosophical confutation of this theory, perhaps the
    two following reflections may suffice.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum57"
    name="mnum57">57.</a></span></span> <i>First</i>, it seems to me that this theory of
    the universal energy and operation of the Supreme Being is too bold ever to carry
    conviction with it to a man, sufficiently apprized of the weakness of human reason,
    and the narrow limits to which it is confined in all its operations. Though the chain
    of arguments which conduct to it were ever so logical, there must arise a strong
    suspicion, if not an absolute assurance, that it has carried us quite beyond the
    reach of our faculties, when it leads to conclusions so extraordinary, and so remote
    from common life and experience. We are got into fairy land, long ere we have reached
    the last steps of our theory; and <i>there</i> we have no reason to trust our common
    methods of argument, or to think that our usual analogies and probabilities have any
    authority. Our line is too short to fathom such immense abysses. And however we may
    flatter ourselves that we are guided, in every step which we take, by a kind of
    verisimilitude and experience, we may be assured that this fancied experience has no
    authority when we thus apply it to subjects that lie entirely out of the sphere of
    experience. But on this we shall have occasion to touch afterwards.<a
    id="footnotetag14" name="footnotetag14"></a><a
    href="#footnote14"><sup>14</sup></a></p>
    <p><i>Secondly,</i> I cannot perceive any force in the arguments on which this theory
    is founded. We are ignorant, it is true, of the manner in which bodies operate on
    each other: Their force or energy is entirely incomprehensible: But are we not
    equally ignorant of the manner or force by which a mind, even the supreme mind,
    operates either on itself or on body? Whence, I beseech you, do we acquire any idea
    of it? We have no sentiment or consciousness of this power in ourselves. We have no
    idea of the Supreme Being but what we learn from reflection on our own faculties.
    Were our ignorance, therefore, a good reason for rejecting any thing, we should be
    led into that principle of denying all energy in the Supreme Being as much as in the
    grossest matter. We surely comprehend as little the operations of one as of the
    other. Is it more difficult to conceive that motion may arise from impulse than that
    it may arise from volition? All we know is our profound ignorance in both cases<a
    id="footnotetag15" name="footnotetag15"></a><a
    href="#footnote15"><sup>15</sup></a>.</p>
    <h4>PART II.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum58"
    name="mnum58">58.</a></span></span> But to hasten to a conclusion of this argument,
    which is already drawn out to too great a length: We have sought in vain for an idea
    of power or necessary connexion in all the sources from which we could suppose it to
    be derived. It appears that, in single instances of the operation of bodies, we never
    can, by our utmost scrutiny, discover any thing but one event following another,
    without being able to comprehend any force or power by which the cause operates, or
    any connexion between it and its supposed effect. The same difficulty occurs in
    contemplating the operations of mind on body&mdash;where we observe the motion of the
    latter to follow upon the volition of the former, but are not able to observe or
    conceive the tie which binds together the motion and volition, or the energy by which
    the mind produces this effect. The authority of the will over its own faculties and
    ideas is not a whit more comprehensible: So that, upon the whole, there appears not,
    throughout all nature, any one instance of connexion which is conceivable by us. All
    events seem entirely loose and separate. One event follows another; but we never can
    observe any tie between them. They seem <i>conjoined</i>, but never <i>connected</i>.
    And as we can have no idea of any thing which never appeared to our outward sense or
    inward sentiment, the necessary conclusion <i>seems</i> to be that we have no idea of
    connexion or power at all, and that these words are absolutely without any meaning,
    when employed either in philosophical reasonings or common life.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum59"
    name="mnum59">59.</a></span></span> But there still remains one method of avoiding
    this conclusion, and one source which we have not yet examined. When any natural
    object or event is presented, it is impossible for us, by any sagacity or
    penetration, to discover, or even conjecture, without experience, what event will
    result from it, or to carry our foresight beyond that object which is immediately
    present to the memory and senses. Even after one instance or experiment where we have
    observed a particular event to follow upon another, we are not entitled to form a
    general rule, or foretell what will happen in like cases; it being justly esteemed an
    unpardonable temerity to judge of the whole course of nature from one single
    experiment, however accurate or certain. But when one particular species of event has
    always, in all instances, been conjoined with another, we make no longer any scruple
    of foretelling one upon the appearance of the other, and of employing that reasoning,
    which can alone assure us of any matter of fact or existence. We then call the one
    object, <i>Cause;</i> the other, <i>Effect.</i> We suppose that there is some
    connexion between them; some power in the one, by which it infallibly produces the
    other, and operates with the greatest certainty and strongest necessity.</p>
    <p>It appears, then, that this idea of a necessary connexion among events arises from
    a number of similar instances which occur of the constant conjunction of these
    events; nor can that idea ever be suggested by any one of these instances, surveyed
    in all possible lights and positions. But there is nothing in a number of instances,
    different from every single instance, which is supposed to be exactly similar; except
    only, that after a repetition of similar instances, the mind is carried by habit,
    upon the appearance of one event, to expect its usual attendant, and to believe that
    it will exist. This connexion, therefore, which we <i>feel</i> in the mind, this
    customary transition of the imagination from one object to its usual attendant, is
    the sentiment or impression from which we form the idea of power or necessary
    connexion. Nothing farther is in the case. Contemplate the subject on all sides; you
    will never find any other origin of that idea. This is the sole difference between
    one instance, from which we can never receive the idea of connexion, and a number of
    similar instances, by which it is suggested. The first time a man saw the
    communication of motion by impulse, as by the shock of two billiard balls, he could
    not pronounce that the one event was <i>connected:</i> but only that it was
    <i>conjoined</i> with the other. After he has observed several instances of this
    nature, he then pronounces them to be <i>connected.</i> What alteration has happened
    to give rise to this new idea of <i>connexion?</i> Nothing but that he now
    <i>feels</i> these events to be connected in his imagination, and can readily
    foretell the existence of one from the appearance of the other. When we say,
    therefore, that one object is connected with another, we mean only that they have
    acquired a connexion in our thought, and give rise to this inference, by which they
    become proofs of each other's existence: A conclusion which is somewhat
    extraordinary, but which seems founded on sufficient evidence. Nor will its evidence
    be weakened by any general diffidence of the understanding, or sceptical suspicion
    concerning every conclusion which is new and extraordinary. No conclusions can be
    more agreeable to scepticism than such as make discoveries concerning the weakness
    and narrow limits of human reason and capacity.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum60"
    name="mnum60">60.</a></span></span> And what stronger instance can be produced of the
    surprising ignorance and weakness of the understanding than the present? For surely,
    if there be any relation among objects which it imports to us to know perfectly, it
    is that of cause and effect. On this are founded all our reasonings concerning matter
    of fact or existence. By means of it alone we attain any assurance concerning objects
    which are removed from the present testimony of our memory and senses. The only
    immediate utility of all sciences, is to teach us, how to control and regulate future
    events by their causes. Our thoughts and enquiries are, therefore, every moment,
    employed about this relation: Yet so imperfect are the ideas which we form concerning
    it, that it is impossible to give any just definition of cause, except what is drawn
    from something extraneous and foreign to it. Similar objects are always conjoined
    with similar. Of this we have experience. Suitably to this experience, therefore, we
    may define a cause to be <i>an object, followed by another, and where all the objects
    similar to the first are followed by objects similar to the second</i>. Or in other
    words <i>where, if the first object had not been, the second never had existed</i>.
    The appearance of a cause always conveys the mind, by a customary transition, to the
    idea of the effect. Of this also we have experience. We may, therefore, suitably to
    this experience, form another definition of cause, and call it, <i>an object followed
    by another, and whose appearance always conveys the thought to that other.</i> But
    though both these definitions be drawn from circumstances foreign to the cause, we
    cannot remedy this inconvenience, or attain any more perfect definition, which may
    point out that circumstance in the cause, which gives it a connexion with its effect.
    We have no idea of this connexion, nor even any distinct notion what it is we desire
    to know, when we endeavour at a conception of it. We say, for instance, that the
    vibration of this string is the cause of this particular sound. But what do we mean
    by that affirmation? We either mean <i>that this vibration is followed by this sound,
    and that all similar vibrations have been followed by similar sounds:</i> Or, <i>that
    this vibration is followed by this sound, and that upon the appearance of one the
    mind anticipates the senses, and forms immediately an idea of the other.</i> We may
    consider the relation of cause and effect in either of these two lights; but beyond
    these, we have no idea of it.<a id="footnotetag16" name="footnotetag16"></a><a
    href="#footnote16"><sup>16</sup></a></p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum61"
    name="mnum61">61.</a></span></span> To recapitulate, therefore, the reasonings of
    this section: Every idea is copied from some preceding impression or sentiment; and
    where we cannot find any impression, we may be certain that there is no idea. In all
    single instances of the operation of bodies or minds, there is nothing that produces
    any impression, nor consequently can suggest any idea of power or necessary
    connexion. But when many uniform instances appear, and the same object is always
    followed by the same event; we then begin to entertain the notion of cause and
    connexion. We then <i>feel</i> a new sentiment or impression, to wit, a customary
    connexion in the thought or imagination between one object and its usual attendant;
    and this sentiment is the original of that idea which we seek for. For as this idea
    arises from a number of similar instances, and not from any single instance, it must
    arise from that circumstance, in which the number of instances differ from every
    individual instance. But this customary connexion or transition of the imagination is
    the only circumstance in which they differ. In every other particular they are alike.
    The first instance which we saw of motion communicated by the shock of two billiard
    balls (to return to this obvious illustration) is exactly similar to any instance
    that may, at present, occur to us; except only, that we could not, at first,
    <i>infer</i> one event from the other; which we are enabled to do at present, after
    so long a course of uniform experience. I know not whether the reader will readily
    apprehend this reasoning. I am afraid that, should I multiply words about it, or
    throw it into a greater variety of lights, it would only become more obscure and
    intricate. In all abstract reasonings there is one point of view which, if we can
    happily hit, we shall go farther towards illustrating the subject than by all the
    eloquence and copious expression in the world. This point of view we should endeavour
    to reach, and reserve the flowers of rhetoric for subjects which are more adapted to
    them.</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section8" name="section8">SECTION VIII.</a></h2>
    <h3>OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.</h3>
    <h4>PART I.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum62"
    name="mnum62">62.</a></span></span> It might reasonably be expected in questions
    which have been canvassed and disputed with great eagerness, since the first origin
    of science and philosophy, that the meaning of all the terms, at least, should have
    been agreed upon among the disputants; and our enquiries, in the course of two
    thousand years, been able to pass from words to the true and real subject of the
    controversy. For how easy may it seem to give exact definitions of the terms employed
    in reasoning, and make these definitions, not the mere sound of words, the object of
    future scrutiny and examination? But if we consider the matter more narrowly, we
    shall be apt to draw a quite opposite conclusion. From this circumstance alone, that
    a controversy has been long kept on foot, and remains still undecided, we may presume
    that there is some ambiguity in the expression, and that the disputants affix
    different ideas to the terms employed in the controversy. For as the faculties of the
    mind are supposed to be naturally alike in every individual; otherwise nothing could
    be more fruitless than to reason or dispute together; it were impossible, if men
    affix the same ideas to their terms, that they could so long form different opinions
    of the same subject; especially when they communicate their views, and each party
    turn themselves on all sides, in search of arguments which may give them the victory
    over their antagonists. It is true, if men attempt the discussion of questions which
    lie entirely beyond the reach of human capacity, such as those concerning the origin
    of worlds, or the economy of the intellectual system or region of spirits, they may
    long beat the air in their fruitless contests, and never arrive at any determinate
    conclusion. But if the question regard any subject of common life and experience,
    nothing, one would think, could preserve the dispute so long undecided but some
    ambiguous expressions, which keep the antagonists still at a distance, and hinder
    them from grappling with each other.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum63"
    name="mnum63">63.</a></span></span> This has been the case in the long disputed
    question concerning liberty and necessity; and to so remarkable a degree that, if I
    be not much mistaken, we shall find, that all mankind, both learned and ignorant,
    have always been of the same opinion with regard to this subject, and that a few
    intelligible definitions would immediately have put an end to the whole controversy.
    I own that this dispute has been so much canvassed on all hands, and has led
    philosophers into such a labyrinth of obscure sophistry, that it is no wonder, if a
    sensible reader indulge his ease so far as to turn a deaf ear to the proposal of such
    a question, from which he can expect neither instruction or entertainment. But the
    state of the argument here proposed may, perhaps, serve to renew his attention; as it
    has more novelty, promises at least some decision of the controversy, and will not
    much disturb his ease by any intricate or obscure reasoning.</p>
    <p>I hope, therefore, to make it appear that all men have ever agreed in the doctrine
    both of necessity and of liberty, according to any reasonable sense, which can be put
    on these terms; and that the whole controversy has hitherto turned merely upon words.
    We shall begin with examining the doctrine of necessity.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum64"
    name="mnum64">64.</a></span></span> It is universally allowed that matter, in all its
    operations, is actuated by a necessary force, and that every natural effect is so
    precisely determined by the energy of its cause that no other effect, in such
    particular circumstances, could possibly have resulted from it. The degree and
    direction of every motion is, by the laws of nature, prescribed with such exactness
    that a living creature may as soon arise from the shock of two bodies as motion in
    any other degree or direction than what is actually produced by it. Would we,
    therefore, form a just and precise idea of <i>necessity</i>, we must consider whence
    that idea arises when we apply it to the operation of bodies.</p>
    <p>It seems evident that, if all the scenes of nature were continually shifted in
    such a manner that no two events bore any resemblance to each other, but every object
    was entirely new, without any similitude to whatever had been seen before, we should
    never, in that case, have attained the least idea of necessity, or of a connexion
    among these objects. We might say, upon such a supposition, that one object or event
    has followed another; not that one was produced by the other. The relation of cause
    and effect must be utterly unknown to mankind. Inference and reasoning concerning the
    operations of nature would, from that moment, be at an end; and the memory and senses
    remain the only canals, by which the knowledge of any real existence could possibly
    have access to the mind. Our idea, therefore, of necessity and causation arises
    entirely from the uniformity observable in the operations of nature, where similar
    objects are constantly conjoined together, and the mind is determined by custom to
    infer the one from the appearance of the other. These two circumstances form the
    whole of that necessity, which we ascribe to matter. Beyond the constant
    <i>conjunction</i> of similar objects, and the consequent <i>inference</i> from one
    to the other, we have no notion of any necessity or connexion.</p>
    <p>If it appear, therefore, that all mankind have ever allowed, without any doubt or
    hesitation, that these two circumstances take place in the voluntary actions of men,
    and in the operations of mind; it must follow, that all mankind have ever agreed in
    the doctrine of necessity, and that they have hitherto disputed, merely for not
    understanding each other.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum65"
    name="mnum65">65.</a></span></span> As to the first circumstance, the constant and
    regular conjunction of similar events, we may possibly satisfy ourselves by the
    following considerations. It is universally acknowledged that there is a great
    uniformity among the actions of men, in all nations and ages, and that human nature
    remains still the same, in its principles and operations. The same motives always
    produce the same actions. The same events follow from the same causes. Ambition,
    avarice, self-love, vanity, friendship, generosity, public spirit: these passions,
    mixed in various degrees, and distributed through society, have been, from the
    beginning of the world, and still are, the source of all the actions and enterprises,
    which have ever been observed among mankind. Would you know the sentiments,
    inclinations, and course of life of the Greeks and Romans? Study well the temper and
    actions of the French and English: You cannot be much mistaken in transferring to the
    former <i>most</i> of the observations which you have made with regard to the latter.
    Mankind are so much the same, in all times and places, that history informs us of
    nothing new or strange in this particular. Its chief use is only to discover the
    constant and universal principles of human nature, by showing men in all varieties of
    circumstances and situations, and furnishing us with materials from which we may form
    our observations and become acquainted with the regular springs of human action and
    behaviour. These records of wars, intrigues, factions, and revolutions, are so many
    collections of experiments, by which the politician or moral philosopher fixes the
    principles of his science, in the same manner as the physician or natural philosopher
    becomes acquainted with the nature of plants, minerals, and other external objects,
    by the experiments which he forms concerning them. Nor are the earth, water, and
    other elements, examined by Aristotle, and Hippocrates, more like to those which at
    present lie under our observation than the men described by Polybius and Tacitus are
    to those who now govern the world.</p>
    <p>Should a traveller, returning from a far country, bring us an account of men,
    wholly different from any with whom we were ever acquainted; men, who were entirely
    divested of avarice, ambition, or revenge; who knew no pleasure but friendship,
    generosity, and public spirit; we should immediately, from these circumstances,
    detect the falsehood, and prove him a liar, with the same certainty as if he had
    stuffed his narration with stories of centaurs and dragons, miracles and prodigies.
    And if we would explode any forgery in history, we cannot make use of a more
    convincing argument, than to prove, that the actions ascribed to any person are
    directly contrary to the course of nature, and that no human motives, in such
    circumstances, could ever induce him to such a conduct. The veracity of Quintus
    Curtius is as much to be suspected, when he describes the supernatural courage of
    Alexander, by which he was hurried on singly to attack multitudes, as when he
    describes his supernatural force and activity, by which he was able to resist them.
    So readily and universally do we acknowledge a uniformity in human motives and
    actions as well as in the operations of body.</p>
    <p>Hence likewise the benefit of that experience, acquired by long life and a variety
    of business and company, in order to instruct us in the principles of human nature,
    and regulate our future conduct, as well as speculation. By means of this guide, we
    mount up to the knowledge of men's inclinations and motives, from their actions,
    expressions, and even gestures; and again descend to the interpretation of their
    actions from our knowledge of their motives and inclinations. The general
    observations treasured up by a course of experience, give us the clue of human
    nature, and teach us to unravel all its intricacies. Pretexts and appearances no
    longer deceive us. Public declarations pass for the specious colouring of a cause.
    And though virtue and honour be allowed their proper weight and authority, that
    perfect disinterestedness, so often pretended to, is never expected in multitudes and
    parties; seldom in their leaders; and scarcely even in individuals of any rank or
    station. But were there no uniformity in human actions, and were every experiment
    which we could form of this kind irregular and anomalous, it were impossible to
    collect any general observations concerning mankind; and no experience, however
    accurately digested by reflection, would ever serve to any purpose. Why is the aged
    husbandman more skilful in his calling than the young beginner but because there is a
    certain uniformity in the operation of the sun, rain, and earth towards the
    production of vegetables; and experience teaches the old practitioner the rules by
    which this operation is governed and directed.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum66"
    name="mnum66">66.</a></span></span> We must not, however, expect that this uniformity
    of human actions should be carried to such a length as that all men, in the same
    circumstances, will always act precisely in the same manner, without making any
    allowance for the diversity of characters, prejudices, and opinions. Such a
    uniformity in every particular, is found in no part of nature. On the contrary, from
    observing the variety of conduct in different men, we are enabled to form a greater
    variety of maxims, which still suppose a degree of uniformity and regularity.</p>
    <p>Are the manners of men different in different ages and countries? We learn thence
    the great force of custom and education, which mould the human mind from its infancy
    and form it into a fixed and established character. Is the behaviour and conduct of
    the one sex very unlike that of the other? Is it thence we become acquainted with the
    different characters which nature has impressed upon the sexes, and which she
    preserves with constancy and regularity? Are the actions of the same person much
    diversified in the different periods of his life, from infancy to old age? This
    affords room for many general observations concerning the gradual change of our
    sentiments and inclinations, and the different maxims which prevail in the different
    ages of human creatures. Even the characters, which are peculiar to each individual,
    have a uniformity in their influence; otherwise our acquaintance with the persons and
    our observation of their conduct could never teach us their dispositions, or serve to
    direct our behaviour with regard to them.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum67"
    name="mnum67">67.</a></span></span> I grant it possible to find some actions, which
    seem to have no regular connexion with any known motives, and are exceptions to all
    the measures of conduct which have ever been established for the government of men.
    But if we would willingly know what judgement should be formed of such irregular and
    extraordinary actions, we may consider the sentiments commonly entertained with
    regard to those irregular events which appear in the course of nature, and the
    operations of external objects. All causes are not conjoined to their usual effects
    with like uniformity. An artificer, who handles only dead matter, may be disappointed
    of his aim, as well as the politician, who directs the conduct of sensible and
    intelligent agents.</p>
    <p>The vulgar, who take things according to their first appearance, attribute the
    uncertainty of events to such an uncertainty in the causes as makes the latter often
    fail of their usual influence; though they meet with no impediment in their
    operation. But philosophers, observing that, almost in every part of nature, there is
    contained a vast variety of springs and principles, which are hid, by reason of their
    minuteness or remoteness, find, that it is at least possible the contrariety of
    events may not proceed from any contingency in the cause, but from the secret
    operation of contrary causes. This possibility is converted into certainty by farther
    observation, when they remark that, upon an exact scrutiny, a contrariety of effects
    always betrays a contrariety of causes, and proceeds from their mutual opposition. A
    peasant can give no better reason for the stopping of any clock or watch than to say
    that it does not commonly go right: But an artist easily perceives that the same
    force in the spring or pendulum has always the same influence on the wheels; but
    fails of its usual effect, perhaps by reason of a grain of dust, which puts a stop to
    the whole movement. From the observation of several parallel instances, philosophers
    form a maxim that the connexion between all causes and effects is equally necessary,
    and that its seeming uncertainty in some instances proceeds from the secret
    opposition of contrary causes.</p>
    <p>Thus, for instance, in the human body, when the usual symptoms of health or
    sickness disappoint our expectation; when medicines operate not with their wonted
    powers; when irregular events follow from any particular cause; the philosopher and
    physician are not surprised at the matter, nor are ever tempted to deny, in general,
    the necessity and uniformity of those principles by which the animal economy is
    conducted. They know that a human body is a mighty complicated machine: That many
    secret powers lurk in it, which are altogether beyond our comprehension: That to us
    it must often appear very uncertain in its operations: And that therefore the
    irregular events, which outwardly discover themselves, can be no proof that the laws
    of nature are not observed with the greatest regularity in its internal operations
    and government.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum68"
    name="mnum68">68.</a></span></span> The philosopher, if he be consistent, must apply
    the same reasoning to the actions and volitions of intelligent agents. The most
    irregular and unexpected resolutions of men may frequently be accounted for by those
    who know every particular circumstance of their character and situation. A person of
    an obliging disposition gives a peevish answer: But he has the toothache, or has not
    dined. A stupid fellow discovers an uncommon alacrity in his carriage: But he has met
    with a sudden piece of good fortune. Or even when an action, as sometimes happens,
    cannot be particularly accounted for, either by the person himself or by others; we
    know, in general, that the characters of men are, to a certain degree, inconstant and
    irregular. This is, in a manner, the constant character of human nature; though it be
    applicable, in a more particular manner, to some persons who have no fixed rule for
    their conduct, but proceed in a continued course of caprice and inconstancy. The
    internal principles and motives may operate in a uniform manner, notwithstanding
    these seeming irregularities; in the same manner as the winds, rain, clouds, and
    other variations of the weather are supposed to be governed by steady principles;
    though not easily discoverable by human sagacity and enquiry.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum69"
    name="mnum69">69.</a></span></span> Thus it appears, not only that the conjunction
    between motives and voluntary actions is as regular and uniform as that between the
    cause and effect in any part of nature; but also that this regular conjunction has
    been universally acknowledged among mankind, and has never been the subject of
    dispute, either in philosophy or common life. Now, as it is from past experience that
    we draw all inferences concerning the future, and as we conclude that objects will
    always be conjoined together which we find to have always been conjoined; it may seem
    superfluous to prove that this experienced uniformity in human actions is a source
    whence we draw <i>inferences</i> concerning them. But in order to throw the argument
    into a greater variety of lights we shall also insist, though briefly, on this latter
    topic.</p>
    <p>The mutual dependence of men is so great in all societies that scarce any human
    action is entirely complete in itself, or is performed without some reference to the
    actions of others, which are requisite to make it answer fully the intention of the
    agent. The poorest artificer, who labours alone, expects at least the protection of
    the magistrate, to ensure him the enjoyment of the fruits of his labour. He also
    expects that, when he carries his goods to market, and offers them at a reasonable
    price, he shall find purchasers, and shall be able, by the money he acquires, to
    engage others to supply him with those commodities which are requisite for his
    subsistence. In proportion as men extend their dealings, and render their intercourse
    with others more complicated, they always comprehend, in their schemes of life, a
    greater variety of voluntary actions, which they expect, from the proper motives, to
    co-operate with their own. In all these conclusions they take their measures from
    past experience, in the same manner as in their reasonings concerning external
    objects; and firmly believe that men, as well as all the elements, are to continue,
    in their operations, the same that they have ever found them. A manufacturer reckons
    upon the labour of his servants for the execution of any work as much as upon the
    tools which he employs, and would be equally surprised were his expectations
    disappointed. In short, this experimental inference and reasoning concerning the
    actions of others enters so much into human life that no man, while awake, is ever a
    moment without employing it. Have we not reason, therefore, to affirm that all
    mankind have always agreed in the doctrine of necessity according to the foregoing
    definition and explication of it?</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum70"
    name="mnum70">70.</a></span></span> Nor have philosophers ever entertained a
    different opinion from the people in this particular. For, not to mention that almost
    every action of their life supposes that opinion, there are even few of the
    speculative parts of learning to which it is not essential. What would become of
    <i>history,</i> had we not a dependence on the veracity of the historian according to
    the experience which we have had of mankind? How could <i>politics</i> be a science,
    if laws and forms of goverment had not a uniform influence upon society? Where would
    be the foundation of <i>morals,</i> if particular characters had no certain or
    determinate power to produce particular sentiments, and if these sentiments had no
    constant operation on actions? And with what pretence could we employ our
    <i>criticism</i> upon any poet or polite author, if we could not pronounce the
    conduct and sentiments of his actors either natural or unnatural to such characters,
    and in such circumstances? It seems almost impossible, therefore, to engage either in
    science or action of any kind without acknowledging the doctrine of necessity, and
    this <i>inference</i> from motive to voluntary actions, from characters to
    conduct.</p>
    <p>And indeed, when we consider how aptly <i>natural</i> and <i>moral</i> evidence
    link together, and form only one chain of argument, we shall make no scruple to allow
    that they are of the same nature, and derived from the same principles. A prisoner
    who has neither money nor interest, discovers the impossibility of his escape, as
    well when he considers the obstinacy of the gaoler, as the walls and bars with which
    he is surrounded; and, in all attempts for his freedom, chooses rather to work upon
    the stone and iron of the one, than upon the inflexible nature of the other. The same
    prisoner, when conducted to the scaffold, foresees his death as certainly from the
    constancy and fidelity of his guards, as from the operation of the axe or wheel. His
    mind runs along a certain train of ideas: The refusal of the soldiers to consent to
    his escape; the action of the executioner; the separation of the head and body;
    bleeding, convulsive motions, and death. Here is a connected chain of natural causes
    and voluntary actions; but the mind feels no difference between them in passing from
    one link to another: Nor is less certain of the future event than if it were
    connected with the objects present to the memory or senses, by a train of causes,
    cemented together by what we are pleased to call a <i>physical</i> necessity. The
    same experienced union has the same effect on the mind, whether the united objects be
    motives, volition, and actions; or figure and motion. We may change the name of
    things; but their nature and their operation on the understanding never change.</p>
    <p>Were a man, whom I know to be honest and opulent, and with whom I live in intimate
    friendship, to come into my house, where I am surrounded with my servants, I rest
    assured that he is not to stab me before he leaves it in order to rob me of my silver
    standish; and I no more suspect this event than the falling of the house itself,
    which is new, and solidly built and founded.&mdash;<i>But he may have been seized
    with a sudden and unknown frenzy.</i>&mdash;So may a sudden earthquake arise, and
    shake and tumble my house about my ears. I shall therefore change the suppositions. I
    shall say that I know with certainty that he is not to put his hand into the fire and
    hold it there till it be consumed: And this event, I think I can foretell with the
    same assurance, as that, if he throw himself out at the window, and meet with no
    obstruction, he will not remain a moment suspended in the air. No suspicion of an
    unknown frenzy can give the least possibility to the former event, which is so
    contrary to all the known principles of human nature. A man who at noon leaves his
    purse full of gold on the pavement at Charing-Cross, may as well expect that it will
    fly away like a feather, as that he will find it untouched an hour after. Above one
    half of human reasonings contain inferences of a similar nature, attended with more
    or less degrees of certainty proportioned to our experience of the usual conduct of
    mankind in such particular situations.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum71"
    name="mnum71">71.</a></span></span> I have frequently considered, what could possibly
    be the reason why all mankind, though they have ever, without hesitation,
    acknowledged the doctrine of necessity in their whole practice and reasoning, have
    yet discovered such a reluctance to acknowledge it in words, and have rather shown a
    propensity, in all ages, to profess the contrary opinion. The matter, I think, may be
    accounted for after the following manner. If we examine the operations of body, and
    the production of effects from their causes, we shall find that all our faculties can
    never carry us farther in our knowledge of this relation than barely to observe that
    particular objects are <i>constantly conjoined</i> together, and that the mind is
    carried, by a <i>customary transition,</i> from the appearance of one to the belief
    of the other. But though this conclusion concerning human ignorance be the result of
    the strictest scrutiny of this subject, men still entertain a strong propensity to
    believe that they penetrate farther into the powers of nature, and perceive something
    like a necessary connexion between the cause and the effect. When again they turn
    their reflections towards the operations of their own minds, and <i>feel</i> no such
    connexion of the motive and the action; they are thence apt to suppose, that there is
    a difference between the effects which result from material force, and those which
    arise from thought and intelligence. But being once convinced that we know nothing
    farther of causation of any kind than merely the <i>constant conjunction</i> of
    objects, and the consequent <i>inference</i> of the mind from one to another, and
    finding that these two circumstances are universally allowed to have place in
    voluntary actions; we may be more easily led to own the same necessity common to all
    causes. And though this reasoning may contradict the systems of many philosophers, in
    ascribing necessity to the determinations of the will, we shall find, upon
    reflection, that they dissent from it in words only, not in their real sentiment.
    Necessity, according to the sense in which it is here taken, has never yet been
    rejected, nor can ever, I think, be rejected by any philosopher. It may only,
    perhaps, be pretended that the mind can perceive, in the operations of matter, some
    farther connexion between the cause and effect; and connexion that has not place in
    voluntary actions of intelligent beings. Now whether it be so or not, can only appear
    upon examination; and it is incumbent on these philosophers to make good their
    assertion, by defining or describing that necessity, and pointing it out to us in the
    operations of material causes.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum72"
    name="mnum72">72.</a></span></span> It would seem, indeed, that men begin at the
    wrong end of this question concerning liberty and necessity, when they enter upon it
    by examining the faculties of the soul, the influence of the understanding, and the
    operations of the will. Let them first discuss a more simple question, namely, the
    operations of body and of brute unintelligent matter; and try whether they can there
    form any idea of causation and necessity, except that of a constant conjunction of
    objects, and subsequent inference of the mind from one to another. If these
    circumstances form, in reality, the whole of that necessity, which we conceive in
    matter, and if these circumstances be also universally acknowledged to take place in
    the operations of the mind, the dispute is at an end; at least, must be owned to be
    thenceforth merely verbal. But as long as we will rashly suppose, that we have some
    farther idea of necessity and causation in the operations of external objects; at the
    same time, that we can find nothing farther in the voluntary actions of the mind;
    there is no possibility of bringing the question to any determinate issue, while we
    proceed upon so erroneous a supposition. The only method of undeceiving us is to
    mount up higher; to examine the narrow extent of science when applied to material
    causes; and to convince ourselves that all we know of them is the constant
    conjunction and inference above mentioned. We may, perhaps, find that it is with
    difficulty we are induced to fix such narrow limits to human understanding: But we
    can afterwards find no difficulty when we come to apply this doctrine to the actions
    of the will. For as it is evident that these have a regular conjunction with motives
    and circumstances and characters, and as we always draw inferences from one to the
    other, we must be obliged to acknowledge in words that necessity, which we have
    already avowed, in every deliberation of our lives, and in every step of our conduct
    and behaviour.<a id="footnotetag17" name="footnotetag17"></a><a
    href="#footnote17"><sup>17</sup></a></p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum73"
    name="mnum73">73.</a></span></span> But to proceed in this reconciling project with
    regard to the question of liberty and necessity; the most contentious question of
    metaphysics, the most contentious science; it will not require many words to prove,
    that all mankind have ever agreed in the doctrine of liberty as well as in that of
    necessity, and that the whole dispute, in this respect also, has been hitherto merely
    verbal. For what is meant by liberty, when applied to voluntary actions? We cannot
    surely mean that actions have so little connexion with motives, inclinations, and
    circumstances, that one does not follow with a certain degree of uniformity from the
    other, and that one affords no inference by which we can conclude the existence of
    the other. For these are plain and acknowledged matters of fact. By liberty, then, we
    can only mean <i>a power of acting or not acting, according to the determinations of
    the will;</i> that is, if we choose to remain at rest, we may; if we choose to move,
    we also may. Now this hypothetical liberty is universally allowed to belong to every
    one who is not a prisoner and in chains. Here, then, is no subject of dispute.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum74"
    name="mnum74">74.</a></span></span> Whatever definition we may give of liberty, we
    should be careful to observe two requisite circumstances; <i>first,</i> that it be
    consistent with plain matter of fact; <i>secondly,</i> that it be consistent with
    itself. If we observe these circumstances, and render our definition intelligible, I
    am persuaded that all mankind will be found of one opinion with regard to it.</p>
    <p>It is universally allowed that nothing exists without a cause of its existence,
    and that chance, when strictly examined, is a mere negative word, and means not any
    real power which has anywhere a being in nature. But it is pretended that some causes
    are necessary, some not necessary. Here then is the advantage of definitions. Let any
    one <i>define</i> a cause, without comprehending, as a part of the definition, a
    <i>necessary connexion</i> with its effect; and let him show distinctly the origin of
    the idea, expressed by the definition; and I shall readily give up the whole
    controversy. But if the foregoing explication of the matter be received, this must be
    absolutely impracticable. Had not objects a regular conjunction with each other, we
    should never have entertained any notion of cause and effect; and this regular
    conjunction produces that inference of the understanding, which is the only
    connexion, that we can have any comprehension of. Whoever attempts a definition of
    cause, exclusive of these circumstances, will be obliged either to employ
    unintelligible terms or such as are synonymous to the term which he endeavours to
    define.<a id="footnotetag18" name="footnotetag18"></a><a
    href="#footnote18"><sup>18</sup></a> And if the definition above mentioned be
    admitted; liberty, when opposed to necessity, not to constraint, is the same thing
    with chance; which is universally allowed to have no existence.</p>
    <h4>PART II.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum75"
    name="mnum75">75.</a></span></span> There is no method of reasoning more common, and
    yet none more blameable, than, in philosophical disputes, to endeavour the refutation
    of any hypothesis, by a pretence of its dangerous consequences to religion and
    morality. When any opinion leads to absurdities, it is certainly false; but it is not
    certain that an opinion is false, because it is of dangerous consequence. Such
    topics, therefore, ought entirely to be forborne; as serving nothing to the discovery
    of truth, but only to make the person of an antagonist odious. This I observe in
    general, without pretending to draw any advantage from it. I frankly submit to an
    examination of this kind, and shall venture to affirm that the doctrines, both of
    necessity and of liberty, as above explained, are not only consistent with morality,
    but are absolutely essential to its support.</p>
    <p>Necessity may be defined two ways, conformably to the two definitions of
    <i>cause</i>, of which it makes an essential part. It consists either in the constant
    conjunction of like objects, or in the inference of the understanding from one object
    to another. Now necessity, in both these senses, (which, indeed, are at bottom the
    same) has universally, though tacitly, in the schools, in the pulpit, and in common
    life, been allowed to belong to the will of man; and no one has ever pretended to
    deny that we can draw inferences concerning human actions, and that those inferences
    are founded on the experienced union of like actions, with like motives,
    inclinations, and circumstances. The only particular in which any one can differ, is,
    that either, perhaps, he will refuse to give the name of necessity to this property
    of human actions: But as long as the meaning is understood, I hope the word can do no
    harm: Or that he will maintain it possible to discover something farther in the
    operations of matter. But this, it must be acknowledged, can be of no consequence to
    morality or religion, whatever it may be to natural philosophy or metaphysics. We may
    here be mistaken in asserting that there is no idea of any other necessity or
    connexion in the actions of body: But surely we ascribe nothing to the actions of the
    mind, but what everyone does, and must readily allow of. We change no circumstance in
    the received orthodox system with regard to the will, but only in that with regard to
    material objects and causes. Nothing, therefore, can be more innocent, at least, than
    this doctrine.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum76"
    name="mnum76">76.</a></span></span> All laws being founded on rewards and
    punishments, it is supposed as a fundamental principle, that these motives have a
    regular and uniform influence on the mind, and both produce the good and prevent the
    evil actions. We may give to this influence what name we please; but, as it is
    usually conjoined with the action, it must be esteemed a <i>cause</i>, and be looked
    upon as an instance of that necessity, which we would here establish.</p>
    <p>The only proper object of hatred or vengeance is a person or creature, endowed
    with thought and consciousness; and when any criminal or injurious actions excite
    that passion, it is only by their relation to the person, or connexion with him.
    Actions are, by their very nature, temporary and perishing; and where they proceed
    not from some <i>cause</i> in the character and disposition of the person who
    performed them, they can neither redound to his honour, if good; nor infamy, if evil.
    The actions themselves may be blameable; they may be contrary to all the rules of
    morality and religion: But the person is not answerable for them; and as they
    proceeded from nothing in him that is durable and constant, and leave nothing of that
    nature behind them, it is impossible he can, upon their account, become the object of
    punishment or vengeance. According to the principle, therefore, which denies
    necessity, and consequently causes, a man is as pure and untainted, after having
    committed the most horrid crime, as at the first moment of his birth, nor is his
    character anywise concerned in his actions, since they are not derived from it, and
    the wickedness of the one can never be used as a proof of the depravity of the
    other.</p>
    <p>Men are not blamed for such actions as they perform ignorantly and casually,
    whatever may be the consequences. Why? but because the principles of these actions
    are only momentary, and terminate in them alone. Men are less blamed for such actions
    as they perform hastily and unpremeditately than for such as proceed from
    deliberation. For what reason? but because a hasty temper, though a constant cause or
    principle in the mind, operates only by intervals, and infects not the whole
    character. Again, repentance wipes off every crime, if attended with a reformation of
    life and manners. How is this to be accounted for? but by asserting that actions
    render a person criminal merely as they are proofs of criminal principles in the
    mind; and when, by an alteration of these principles, they cease to be just proofs,
    they likewise cease to be criminal. But, except upon the doctrine of necessity, they
    never were just proofs, and consequently never were criminal.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum77"
    name="mnum77">77.</a></span></span> It will be equally easy to prove, and from the
    same arguments, that <i>liberty</i>, according to that definition above mentioned, in
    which all men agree, is also essential to morality, and that no human actions, where
    it is wanting, are susceptible of any moral qualities, or can be the objects either
    of approbation or dislike. For as actions are objects of our moral sentiment, so far
    only as they are indications of the internal character, passions, and affections; it
    is impossible that they can give rise either to praise or blame, where they proceed
    not from these principles, but are derived altogether from external violence.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum78"
    name="mnum78">78.</a></span></span> I pretend not to have obviated or removed all
    objections to this theory, with regard to necessity and liberty. I can foresee other
    objections, derived from topics which have not here been treated of. It may be said,
    for instance, that, if voluntary actions be subjected to the same laws of necessity
    with the operations of matter, there is a continued chain of necessary causes,
    pre-ordained and pre-determined, reaching from the original cause of all to every
    single volition of every human creature. No contingency anywhere in the universe; no
    indifference; no liberty. While we act, we are, at the same time, acted upon. The
    ultimate Author of all our volitions is the Creator of the world, who first bestowed
    motion on this immense machine, and placed all beings in that particular position,
    whence every subsequent event, by an inevitable necessity, must result. Human
    actions, therefore, either can have no moral turpitude at all, as proceeding from so
    good a cause; or if they have any turpitude, they must involve our Creator in the
    same guilt, while he is acknowledged to be their ultimate cause and author. For as a
    man, who fired a mine, is answerable for all the consequences whether the train he
    employed be long or short; so wherever a continued chain of necessary causes is
    fixed, that Being, either finite or infinite, who produces the first, is likewise the
    author of all the rest, and must both bear the blame and acquire the praise which
    belong to them. Our clear and unalterable ideas of morality establish this rule, upon
    unquestionable reasons, when we examine the consequences of any human action; and
    these reasons must still have greater force when applied to the volitions and
    intentions of a Being infinitely wise and powerful. Ignorance or impotence may be
    pleaded for so limited a creature as man; but those imperfections have no place in
    our Creator. He foresaw, he ordained, he intended all those actions of men, which we
    so rashly pronounce criminal. And we must therefore conclude, either that they are
    not criminal, or that the Deity, not man, is accountable for them. But as either of
    these positions is absurd and impious, it follows, that the doctrine from which they
    are deduced cannot possibly be true, as being liable to all the same objections. An
    absurd consequence, if necessary, proves the original doctrine to be absurd; in the
    same manner as criminal actions render criminal the original cause, if the connexion
    between them be necessary and evitable.</p>
    <p>This objection consists of two parts, which we shall examine separately;
    <i>First</i>, that, if human actions can be traced up, by a necessary chain, to the
    Deity, they can never be criminal; on account of the infinite perfection of that
    Being from whom they are derived, and who can intend nothing but what is altogether
    good and laudable. Or, <i>Secondly</i>, if they be criminal, we must retract the
    attribute of perfection, which we ascribe to the Deity, and must acknowledge him to
    be the ultimate author of guilt and moral turpitude in all his creatures.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum79"
    name="mnum79">79.</a></span></span> The answer to the first objection seems obvious
    and convincing. There are many philosophers who, after an exact scrutiny of all the
    phenomena of nature, conclude, that the WHOLE, considered as one system, is, in every
    period of its existence, ordered with perfect benevolence; and that the utmost
    possible happiness will, in the end, result to all created beings, without any
    mixture of positive or absolute ill or misery. Every physical ill, say they, makes an
    essential part of this benevolent system, and could not possibly be removed, even by
    the Deity himself, considered as a wise agent, without giving entrance to greater
    ill, or excluding greater good, which will result from it. From this theory, some
    philosophers, and the ancient <i>Stoics</i> among the rest, derived a topic of
    consolation under all afflictions, while they taught their pupils that those ills
    under which they laboured were, in reality, goods to the universe; and that to an
    enlarged view, which could comprehend the whole system of nature, every event became
    an object of joy and exultation. But though this topic be specious and sublime, it
    was soon found in practice weak and ineffectual. You would surely more irritate than
    appease a man lying under the racking pains of the gout by preaching up to him the
    rectitude of those general laws, which produced the malignant humours in his body,
    and led them through the proper canals, to the sinews and nerves, where they now
    excite such acute torments. These enlarged views may, for a moment, please the
    imagination of a speculative man, who is placed in ease and security; but neither can
    they dwell with constancy on his mind, even though undisturbed by the emotions of
    pain or passion; much less can they maintain their ground when attacked by such
    powerful antagonists. The affections take a narrower and more natural survey of their
    object; and by an economy, more suitable to the infirmity of human minds, regard
    alone the beings around us, and are actuated by such events as appear good or ill to
    the private system.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum80"
    name="mnum80">80.</a></span></span> The case is the same with <i>moral</i> as with
    <i>physical</i> ill. It cannot reasonably be supposed, that those remote
    considerations, which are found of so little efficacy with regard to one, will have a
    more powerful influence with regard to the other. The mind of man is so formed by
    nature that, upon the appearance of certain characters, dispositions, and actions, it
    immediately feels the sentiment of approbation or blame; nor are there any emotions
    more essential to its frame and constitution. The characters which engage our
    approbation are chiefly such as contribute to the peace and security of human
    society; as the characters which excite blame are chiefly such as tend to public
    detriment and disturbance: Whence it may reasonably be presumed, that the moral
    sentiments arise, either mediately or immediately, from a reflection of these
    opposite interests. What though philosophical meditations establish a different
    opinion or conjecture; that everything is right with regard to the WHOLE, and that
    the qualities, which disturb society, are, in the main, as beneficial, and are as
    suitable to the primary intention of nature as those which more directly promote its
    happiness and welfare? Are such remote and uncertain speculations able to
    counterbalance the sentiments which arise from the natural and immediate view of the
    objects? A man who is robbed of a considerable sum; does he find his vexation for the
    loss anywise diminished by these sublime reflections? Why then should his moral
    resentment against the crime be supposed incompatible with them? Or why should not
    the acknowledgment of a real distinction between vice and virtue be reconcileable to
    all speculative systems of philosophy, as well as that of a real distinction between
    personal beauty and deformity? Both these distinctions are founded in the natural
    sentiments of the human mind: And these sentiments are not to be controuled or
    altered by any philosophical theory or speculation whatsoever.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum81"
    name="mnum81">81.</a></span></span> The <i>second</i> objection admits not of so easy
    and satisfactory an answer; nor is it possible to explain distinctly, how the Deity
    can be the mediate cause of all the actions of men, without being the author of sin
    and moral turpitude. These are mysteries, which mere natural and unassisted reason is
    very unfit to handle; and whatever system she embraces, she must find herself
    involved in inextricable difficulties, and even contradictions, at every step which
    she takes with regard to such subjects. To reconcile the indifference and contingency
    of human actions with prescience; or to defend absolute decrees, and yet free the
    Deity from being the author of sin, has been found hitherto to exceed all the power
    of philosophy. Happy, if she be thence sensible of her temerity, when she pries into
    these sublime mysteries; and leaving a scene so full of obscurities and perplexities,
    return, with suitable modesty, to her true and proper province, the examination of
    common life; where she will find difficulties enough to employ her enquiries, without
    launching into so boundless an ocean of doubt, uncertainty, and contradiction!</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section9" name="section9">SECTION IX.</a></h2>
    <h3>OF THE REASON OF ANIMALS.</h3>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum82"
    name="mnum82">82.</a></span></span> All our reasonings concerning matter of fact are
    founded on a species of Analogy, which leads us to expect from any cause the same
    events, which we have observed to result from similar causes. Where the causes are
    entirely similar, the analogy is perfect, and the inference, drawn from it, is
    regarded as certain and conclusive: nor does any man ever entertain a doubt, where he
    sees a piece of iron, that it will have weight and cohesion of parts; as in all other
    instances, which have ever fallen under his observation. But where the objects have
    not so exact a similarity, the analogy is less perfect, and the inference is less
    conclusive; though still it has some force, in proportion to the degree of similarity
    and resemblance. The anatomical observations, formed upon one animal, are, by this
    species of reasoning, extended to all animals; and it is certain, that when the
    circulation of the blood, for instance, is clearly proved to have place in one
    creature, as a frog, or fish, it forms a strong presumption, that the same principle
    has place in all. These analogical observations may be carried farther, even to this
    science, of which we are now treating; and any theory, by which we explain the
    operations of the understanding, or the origin and connexion of the passions in man,
    will acquire additional authority, if we find, that the same theory is requisite to
    explain the same phenomena in all other animals. We shall make trial of this, with
    regard to the hypothesis, by which we have, in the foregoing discourse, endeavoured
    to account for all experimental reasonings; and it is hoped, that this new point of
    view will serve to confirm all our former observations.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum83"
    name="mnum83">83.</a></span></span> <i>First</i>, It seems evident, that animals as
    well as men learn many things from experience, and infer, that the same events will
    always follow from the same causes. By this principle they become acquainted with the
    more obvious properties of external objects, and gradually, from their birth,
    treasure up a knowledge of the nature of fire, water, earth, stones, heights, depths,
    &amp;c., and of the effects which result from their operation. The ignorance and
    inexperience of the young are here plainly distinguishable from the cunning and
    sagacity of the old, who have learned, by long observation, to avoid what hurt them,
    and to pursue what gave ease or pleasure. A horse, that has been accustomed to the
    field, becomes acquainted with the proper height which he can leap, and will never
    attempt what exceeds his force and ability. An old greyhound will trust the more
    fatiguing part of the chace to the younger, and will place himself so as to meet the
    hare in her doubles; nor are the conjectures, which he forms on this occasion,
    founded in any thing but his observation and experience.</p>
    <p>This is still more evident from the effects of discipline and education on
    animals, who, by the proper application of rewards and punishments, may be taught any
    course of action, and most contrary to their natural instincts and propensities. Is
    it not experience, which renders a dog apprehensive of pain, when you menace him, or
    lift up the whip to beat him? Is it not even experience, which makes him answer to
    his name, and infer, from such an arbitrary sound, that you mean him rather than any
    of his fellows, and intend to call him, when you pronounce it in a certain manner,
    and with a certain tone and accent?</p>
    <p>In all these cases, we may observe, that the animal infers some fact beyond what
    immediately strikes his senses; and that this inference is altogether founded on past
    experience, while the creature expects from the present object the same consequences,
    which it has always found in its observation to result from similar objects.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum84"
    name="mnum84">84.</a></span></span> <i>Secondly</i>, It is impossible, that this
    inference of the animal can be founded on any process of argument or reasoning, by
    which he concludes, that like events must follow like objects, and that the course of
    nature will always be regular in its operations. For if there be in reality any
    arguments of this nature, they surely lie too abstruse for the observation of such
    imperfect understandings; since it may well employ the utmost care and attention of a
    philosophic genius to discover and observe them. Animals, therefore, are not guided
    in these inferences by reasoning: Neither are children: Neither are the generality of
    mankind, in their ordinary actions and conclusions: Neither are philosophers
    themselves, who, in all the active parts of life, are, in the main, the same with the
    vulgar, and are governed by the same maxims. Nature must have provided some other
    principle, of more ready, and more general use and application; nor can an operation
    of such immense consequence in life, as that of inferring effects from causes, be
    trusted to the uncertain process of reasoning and argumentation. Were this doubtful
    with regard to men, it seems to admit of no question with regard to the brute
    creation; and the conclusion being once firmly established in the one, we have a
    strong presumption, from all the rules of analogy, that it ought to be universally
    admitted, without any exception or reserve. It is custom alone, which engages
    animals, from every object, that strikes their senses, to infer its usual attendant,
    and carries their imagination, from the appearance of the one, to conceive the other,
    in that particular manner, which we denominate <i>belief</i>. No other explication
    can be given of this operation, in all the higher, as well as lower classes of
    sensitive beings, which fall under our notice and observation <a id="footnotetag19"
    name="footnotetag19"></a><a href="#footnote19"><sup>19</sup></a>.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum85"
    name="mnum85">85.</a></span></span> But though animals learn many parts of their
    knowledge from observation, there are also many parts of it, which they derive from
    the original hand of nature; which much exceed the share of capacity they possess on
    ordinary occasions; and in which they improve, little or nothing, by the longest
    practice and experience. These we denominate Instincts, and are so apt to admire as
    something very extraordinary, and inexplicable by all the disquisitions of human
    understanding. But our wonder will, perhaps, cease or diminish, when we consider,
    that the experimental reasoning itself, which we possess in common with beasts, and
    on which the whole conduct of life depends, is nothing but a species of instinct or
    mechanical power, that acts in us unknown to ourselves; and in its chief operations,
    is not directed by any such relations or comparisons of ideas, as are the proper
    objects of our intellectual faculties. Though the instinct be different, yet still it
    is an instinct, which teaches a man to avoid the fire; as much as that, which teaches
    a bird, with such exactness, the art of incubation, and the whole economy and order
    of its nursery.</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section10" name="section10">SECTION X</a></h2>
    <h3>OF MIRACLES.</h3>
    <h4>PART I.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum86"
    name="mnum86">86.</a></span></span> There is, in Dr. Tillotson's writings, an
    argument against the <i>real presence</i>, which is as concise, and elegant, and
    strong as any argument can possibly be supposed against a doctrine, so little worthy
    of a serious refutation. It is acknowledged on all hands, says that learned prelate,
    that the authority, either of the scripture or of tradition, is founded merely in the
    testimony of the apostles, who were eye-witnesses to those miracles of our Saviour,
    by which he proved his divine mission. Our evidence, then, for the truth of the
    <i>Christian</i> religion is less than the evidence for the truth of our senses;
    because, even in the first authors of our religion, it was no greater; and it is
    evident it must diminish in passing from them to their disciples; nor can any one
    rest such confidence in their testimony, as in the immediate object of his senses.
    But a weaker evidence can never destroy a stronger; and therefore, were the doctrine
    of the real presence ever so clearly revealed in scripture, it were directly contrary
    to the rules of just reasoning to give our assent to it. It contradicts sense, though
    both the scripture and tradition, on which it is supposed to be built, carry not such
    evidence with them as sense; when they are considered merely as external evidences,
    and are not brought home to every one's breast, by the immediate operation of the
    Holy Spirit.</p>
    <p>Nothing is so convenient as a decisive argument of this kind, which must at least
    <i>silence</i> the most arrogant bigotry and superstition, and free us from their
    impertinent solicitations. I flatter myself, that I have discovered an argument of a
    like nature, which, if just, will, with the wise and learned, be an everlasting check
    to all kinds of superstitious delusion, and consequently, will be useful as long as
    the world endures. For so long, I presume, will the accounts of miracles and
    prodigies be found in all history, sacred and profane.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum87"
    name="mnum87">87.</a></span></span> Though experience be our only guide in reasoning
    concerning matters of fact; it must be acknowledged, that this guide is not
    altogether infallible, but in some cases is apt to lead us into errors. One, who in
    our climate, should expect better weather in any week of June than in one of
    December, would reason justly, and conformably to experience; but it is certain, that
    he may happen, in the event, to find himself mistaken. However, we may observe, that,
    in such a case, he would have no cause to complain of experience; because it commonly
    informs us beforehand of the uncertainty, by that contrariety of events, which we may
    learn from a diligent observation. All effects follow not with like certainty from
    their supposed causes. Some events are found, in all countries and all ages, to have
    been constantly conjoined together: Others are found to have been more variable, and
    sometimes to disappoint our expectations; so that, in our reasonings concerning
    matter of fact, there are all imaginable degrees of assurance, from the highest
    certainty to the lowest species of moral evidence.</p>
    <p>A wise man, therefore, proportions his belief to the evidence. In such conclusions
    as are founded on an infallible experience, he expects the event with the last degree
    of assurance, and regards his past experience as a full <i>proof</i> of the future
    existence of that event. In other cases, he proceeds with more caution: He weighs the
    opposite experiments: He considers which side is supported by the greater number of
    experiments: to that side he inclines, with doubt and hesitation; and when at last he
    fixes his judgement, the evidence exceeds not what we properly call
    <i>probability</i>. All probability, then, supposes an opposition of experiments and
    observations, where the one side is found to overbalance the other, and to produce a
    degree of evidence, proportioned to the superiority. A hundred instances or
    experiments on one side, and fifty on another, afford a doubtful expectation of any
    event; though a hundred uniform experiments, with only one that is contradictory,
    reasonably beget a pretty strong degree of assurance. In all cases, we must balance
    the opposite experiments, where they are opposite, and deduct the smaller number from
    the greater, in order to know the exact force of the superior evidence.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum88"
    name="mnum88">88.</a></span></span> To apply these principles to a particular
    instance; we may observe, that there is no species of reasoning more common, more
    useful, and even necessary to human life, than that which is derived from the
    testimony of men, and the reports of eye-witnesses and spectators. This species of
    reasoning, perhaps, one may deny to be founded on the relation of cause and effect. I
    shall not dispute about a word. It will be sufficient to observe that our assurance
    in any argument of this kind is derived from no other principle than our observation
    of the veracity of human testimony, and of the usual conformity of facts to the
    reports of witnesses. It being a general maxim, that no objects have any discoverable
    connexion together, and that all the inferences, which we can draw from one to
    another, are founded merely on our experience of their constant and regular
    conjunction; it is evident, that we ought not to make an exception to this maxim in
    favour of human testimony, whose connexion with any event seems, in itself, as little
    necessary as any other. Were not the memory tenacious to a certain degree, had not
    men commonly an inclination to truth and a principle of probity; were they not
    sensible to shame, when detected in a falsehood: Were not these, I say, discovered by
    experience to be qualities, inherent in human nature, we should never repose the
    least confidence in human testimony. A man delirious, or noted for falsehood and
    villany, has no manner of authority with us.</p>
    <p>And as the evidence, derived from witnesses and human testimony, is founded on
    past experience, so it varies with the experience, and is regarded either as a
    <i>proof</i> or a <i>probability</i>, according as the conjunction between any
    particular kind of report and any kind of object has been found to be constant or
    variable. There are a number of circumstances to be taken into consideration in all
    judgements of this kind; and the ultimate standard, by which we determine all
    disputes, that may arise concerning them, is always derived from experience and
    observation. Where this experience is not entirely uniform on any side, it is
    attended with an unavoidable contrariety in our judgements, and with the same
    opposition and mutual destruction of argument as in every other kind of evidence. We
    frequently hesitate concerning the reports of others. We balance the opposite
    circumstances, which cause any doubt or uncertainty; and when we discover a
    superiority on any side, we incline to it; but still with a diminution of assurance,
    in proportion to the force of its antagonist.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum89"
    name="mnum89">89.</a></span></span> This contrariety of evidence, in the present
    case, may be derived from several different causes; from the opposition of contrary
    testimony; from the character or number of the witnesses; from the manner of their
    delivering their testimony; or from the union of all these circumstances. We
    entertain a suspicion concerning any matter of fact, when the witnesses contradict
    each other; when they are but few, or of a doubtful character; when they have an
    interest in what they affirm; when they deliver their testimony with hesitation, or
    on the contrary, with too violent asseverations. There are many other particulars of
    the same kind, which may diminish or destroy the force of any argument, derived from
    human testimony.</p>
    <p>Suppose, for instance, that the fact, which the testimony endeavours to establish,
    partakes of the extraordinary and the marvellous; in that case, the evidence,
    resulting from the testimony, admits of a diminution, greater or less, in proportion
    as the fact is more or less unusual. The reason why we place any credit in witnesses
    and historians, is not derived from any <i>connexion</i>, which we perceive <i>a
    priori</i>, between testimony and reality, but because we are accustomed to find a
    conformity between them. But when the fact attested is such a one as has seldom
    fallen under our observation, here is a contest of two opposite experiences; of which
    the one destroys the other, as far as its force goes, and the superior can only
    operate on the mind by the force, which remains. The very same principle of
    experience, which gives us a certain degree of assurance in the testimony of
    witnesses, gives us also, in this case, another degree of assurance against the fact,
    which they endeavour to establish; from which contradition there necessarily arises a
    counterpoize, and mutual destruction of belief and authority.</p>
    <p><i>I should not believe such a story were it told me by Cato</i>, was a proverbial
    saying in Rome, even during the lifetime of that philosophical patriot.<a
    id="footnotetag20" name="footnotetag20"></a><a href="#footnote20"><sup>20</sup></a>
    The incredibility of a fact, it was allowed, might invalidate so great an
    authority.</p>
    <p>The Indian prince, who refused to believe the first relations concerning the
    effects of frost, reasoned justly; and it naturally required very strong testimony to
    engage his assent to facts, that arose from a state of nature, with which he was
    unacquainted, and which bore so little analogy to those events, of which he had had
    constant and uniform experience. Though they were not contrary to his experience,
    they were not conformable to it.<a id="footnotetag21" name="footnotetag21"></a><a
    href="#footnote21"><sup>21</sup></a></p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum90"
    name="mnum90">90.</a></span></span> But in order to encrease the probability against
    the testimony of witnesses, let us suppose, that the fact, which they affirm, instead
    of being only marvellous, is really miraculous; and suppose also, that the testimony
    considered apart and in itself, amounts to an entire proof; in that case, there is
    proof against proof, of which the strongest must prevail, but still with a diminution
    of its force, in proportion to that of its antagonist.</p>
    <p>A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and as a firm and unalterable
    experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle, from the very
    nature of the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be
    imagined. Why is it more than probable, that all men must die; that lead cannot, of
    itself, remain suspended in the air; that fire consumes wood, and is extinguished by
    water; unless it be, that these events are found agreeable to the laws of nature, and
    there is required a violation of these laws, or in other words, a miracle to prevent
    them? Nothing is esteemed a miracle, if it ever happen in the common course of
    nature. It is no miracle that a man, seemingly in good health, should die on a
    sudden: because such a kind of death, though more unusual than any other, has yet
    been frequently observed to happen. But it is a miracle, that a dead man should come
    to life; because that has never been observed in any age or country. There must,
    therefore, be a uniform experience against every miraculous event, otherwise the
    event would not merit that appellation. And as a uniform experience amounts to a
    proof, there is here a direct and full <i>proof</i>, from the nature of the fact,
    against the existence of any miracle; nor can such a proof be destroyed, or the
    miracle rendered credible, but by an opposite proof, which is superior.<a
    id="footnotetag22" name="footnotetag22"></a><a
    href="#footnote22"><sup>22</sup></a></p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum91"
    name="mnum91">91.</a></span></span> The plain consequence is (and it is a general
    maxim worthy of our attention), 'That no testimony is sufficient to establish a
    miracle, 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 destruction of arguments, and the superior only gives us an
    assurance suitable to that degree of force, which remains, after deducting the
    inferior.' When anyone tells me, that he saw a dead man restored to life, I
    immediately consider with myself, whether it be more probable, that this person
    should either deceive or be deceived, or that the fact, which he relates, should
    really have happened. I weigh the one miracle against the other; and according to the
    superiority, which I discover, I pronounce my decision, and always reject the greater
    miracle. If the falsehood of his testimony would be more miraculous, than the event
    which he relates; then, and not till then, can he pretend to command my belief or
    opinion.</p>
    <h4>PART II.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum92"
    name="mnum92">92.</a></span></span> In the foregoing reasoning we have supposed, that
    the testimony, upon which a miracle is founded, may possibly amount to an entire
    proof, and that the falsehood of that testimony would be a real prodigy: But it is
    easy to shew, that we have been a great deal too liberal in our concession, and that
    there never was a miraculous event established on so full an evidence.</p>
    <p>For <i>first</i>, there is not to be found, in all history, any miracle attested
    by a sufficient number of men, of such unquestioned good-sense, education, and
    learning, as to secure us against all delusion in themselves; of such undoubted
    integrity, as to place them beyond all suspicion of any design to deceive others; of
    such credit and reputation in the eyes of mankind, as to have a great deal to lose in
    case of their being detected in any falsehood; and at the same time, attesting facts
    performed in such a public manner and in so celebrated a part of the world, as to
    render the detection unavoidable: All which circumstances are requisite to give us a
    full assurance in the testimony of men.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum93"
    name="mnum93">93.</a></span></span> <i>Secondly</i>. We may observe in human nature a
    principle which, if strictly examined, will be found to diminish extremely the
    assurance, which we might, from human testimony, have, in any kind of prodigy. The
    maxim, by which we commonly conduct ourselves in our reasonings, is, that the
    objects, of which we have no experience, resembles those, of which we have; that what
    we have found to be most usual is always most probable; and that where there is an
    opposition of arguments, we ought to give the preference to such as are founded on
    the greatest number of past observations. But though, in proceeding by this rule, we
    readily reject any fact which is unusual and incredible in an ordinary degree; yet in
    advancing farther, the mind observes not always the same rule; but when anything is
    affirmed utterly absurd and miraculous, it rather the more readily admits of such a
    fact, upon account of that very circumstance, which ought to destroy all its
    authority. The passion of <i>surprise</i> and <i>wonder</i>, arising from miracles,
    being an agreeable emotion, gives a sensible tendency towards the belief of those
    events, from which it is derived. And this goes so far, that even those who cannot
    enjoy this pleasure immediately, nor can believe those miraculous events, of which
    they are informed, yet love to partake of the satisfaction at second-hand or by
    rebound, and place a pride and delight in exciting the admiration of others.</p>
    <p>With what greediness are the miraculous accounts of travellers received, their
    descriptions of sea and land monsters, their relations of wonderful adventures,
    strange men, and uncouth manners? But if the spirit of religion join itself to the
    love of wonder, there is an end of common sense; and human testimony, in these
    circumstances, loses all pretensions to authority. A religionist may be an
    enthusiast, and imagine he sees what has no reality: he may know his narrative to be
    false, and yet persevere in it, with the best intentions in the world, for the sake
    of promoting so holy a cause: or even where this delusion has not place, vanity,
    excited by so strong a temptation, operates on him more powerfully than on the rest
    of mankind in any other circumstances; and self-interest with equal force. His
    auditors may not have, and commonly have not, sufficient judgement to canvass his
    evidence: what judgement they have, they renounce by principle, in these sublime and
    mysterious subjects: or if they were ever so willing to employ it, passion and a
    heated imagination disturb the regularity of its operations. Their credulity
    increases his impudence: and his impudence overpowers their credulity.</p>
    <p>Eloquence, when at its highest pitch, leaves little room for reason or reflection;
    but addressing itself entirely to the fancy or the affections, captivates the willing
    hearers, and subdues their understanding. Happily, this pitch it seldom attains. But
    what a Tully or a Demosthenes could scarcely effect over a Roman or Athenian
    audience, every <i>Capuchin</i>, every itinerant or stationary teacher can perform
    over the generality of mankind, and in a higher degree, by touching such gross and
    vulgar passions.</p>
    <p>The many instances of forged miracles, and prophecies, and supernatural events,
    which, in all ages, have either been detected by contrary evidence, or which detect
    themselves by their absurdity, prove sufficiently the strong propensity of mankind to
    the extraordinary and the marvellous, and ought reasonably to beget a suspicion
    against all relations of this kind. This is our natural way of thinking, even with
    regard to the most common and most credible events. For instance: There is no kind of
    report which rises so easily, and spreads so quickly, especially in country places
    and provincial towns, as those concerning marriages; insomuch that two young persons
    of equal condition never see each other twice, but the whole neighbourhood
    immediately join them together. The pleasure of telling a piece of news so
    interesting, of propagating it, and of being the first reporters of it, spreads the
    intelligence. And this is so well known, that no man of sense gives attention to
    these reports, till he find them confirmed by some greater evidence. Do not the same
    passions, and others still stronger, incline the generality of mankind to believe and
    report, with the greatest vehemence and assurance, all religious miracles?</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum94"
    name="mnum94">94.</a></span></span> <i>Thirdly</i>. It forms a strong presumption
    against all supernatural and miraculous relations, that they are observed chiefly to
    abound among ignorant and barbarous nations; or if a civilized people has ever given
    admission to any of them, that people will be found to have received them from
    ignorant and barbarous ancestors, who transmitted them with that inviolable sanction
    and authority, which always attend received opinions. When we peruse the first
    histories of all nations, we are apt to imagine ourselves transported into some new
    world; where the whole frame of nature is disjointed, and every element performs its
    operations in a different manner, from what it does at present. Battles, revolutions,
    pestilence, famine and death, are never the effect of those natural causes, which we
    experience. Prodigies, omens, oracles, judgements, quite obscure the few natural
    events, that are intermingled with them. But as the former grow thinner every page,
    in proportion as we advance nearer the enlightened ages, we soon learn, that there is
    nothing mysterious or supernatural in the case, but that all proceeds from the usual
    propensity of mankind towards the marvellous, and that, though this inclination may
    at intervals receive a check from sense and learning, it can never be thoroughly
    extirpated from human nature.</p>
    <p><i>It is strange</i>, a judicious reader is apt to say, upon the perusal of these
    wonderful historians, <i>that such prodigious</i> <i>events never happen in our
    days</i>. But it is nothing strange, I hope, that men should lie in all ages. You
    must surely have seen instances enough of that frailty. You have yourself heard many
    such marvellous relations started, which, being treated with scorn by all the wise
    and judicious, have at last been abandoned even by the vulgar. Be assured, that those
    renowned lies, which have spread and flourished to such a monstrous height, arose
    from like beginnings; but being sown in a more proper soil, shot up at last into
    prodigies almost equal to those which they relate.</p>
    <p>It was a wise policy in that false prophet, Alexander, who though now forgotten,
    was once so famous, to lay the first scene of his impostures in Paphlagonia, where,
    as Lucian tells us, the people were extremely ignorant and stupid, and ready to
    swallow even the grossest delusion. People at a distance, who are weak enough to
    think the matter at all worth enquiry, have no opportunity of receiving better
    information. The stories come magnified to them by a hundred circumstances. Fools are
    industrious in propagating the imposture; while the wise and learned are contented,
    in general, to deride its absurdity, without informing themselves of the particular
    facts, by which it may be distinctly refuted. And thus the impostor above mentioned
    was enabled to proceed, from his ignorant Paphlagonians, to the enlisting of
    votaries, even among the Grecian philosophers, and men of the most eminent rank and
    distinction in Rome: nay, could engage the attention of that sage emperor Marcus
    Aurelius; so far as to make him trust the success of a military expedition to his
    delusive prophecies.</p>
    <p>The advantages are so great, of starting an imposture among an ignorant people,
    that, even though the delusion should be too gross to impose on the generality of
    them (<i>which, though seldom, is sometimes the case</i>) it has a much better chance
    for succeeding in remote countries, than if the first scene had been laid in a city
    renowned for arts and knowledge. The most ignorant and barbarous of these barbarians
    carry the report abroad. None of their countrymen have a large correspondence, or
    sufficient credit and authority to contradict and beat down the delusion. Men's
    inclination to the marvellous has full opportunity to display itself. And thus a
    story, which is universally exploded in the place where it was first started, shall
    pass for certain at a thousand miles distance. But had Alexander fixed his residence
    at Athens, the philosophers of that renowned mart of learning had immediately spread,
    throughout the whole Roman empire, their sense of the matter; which, being supported
    by so great authority, and displayed by all the force of reason and eloquence, had
    entirely opened the eyes of mankind. It is true; Lucian, passing by chance through
    Paphlagonia, had an opportunity of performing this good office. But, though much to
    be wished, it does not always happen, that every Alexander meets with a Lucian, ready
    to expose and detect his impostures.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum95"
    name="mnum95">95.</a></span></span> I may add as a <i>fourth</i> reason, which
    diminishes the authority of prodigies, that there is no testimony for any, even those
    which have not been expressly detected, that is not opposed by an infinite number of
    witnesses; so that not only the miracle destroys the credit of testimony, but the
    testimony destroys itself. To make this the better understood, let us consider, that,
    in matters of religion, whatever is different is contrary; and that it is impossible
    the religions of ancient Rome, of Turkey, of Siam, and of China should, all of them,
    be established on any solid foundation. Every miracle, therefore, pretended to have
    been wrought in any of these religions (and all of them abound in miracles), as its
    direct scope is to establish the particular system to which it is attributed; so has
    it the same force, though more indirectly, to overthrow every other system. In
    destroying a rival system, it likewise destroys the credit of those miracles, on
    which that system was established; so that all the prodigies of different religions
    are to be regarded as contrary facts, and the evidences of these prodigies, whether
    weak or strong, as opposite to each other. According to this method of reasoning,
    when we believe any miracle of Mahomet or his successors, we have for our warrant the
    testimony of a few barbarous Arabians: And on the other hand, we are to regard the
    authority of Titus Livius, Plutarch, Tacitus, and, in short, of all the authors and
    witnesses, Grecian, Chinese, and Roman Catholic, who have related any miracle in
    their particular religion; I say, we are to regard their testimony in the same light
    as if they had mentioned that Mahometan miracle, and had in express terms
    contradicted it, with the same certainty as they have for the miracle they relate.
    This argument may appear over subtile and refined; but is not in reality different
    from the reasoning of a judge, who supposes, that the credit of two witnesses,
    maintaining a crime against any one, is destroyed by the testimony of two others, who
    affirm him to have been two hundred leagues distant, at the same instant when the
    crime is said to have been committed.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum96"
    name="mnum96">96.</a></span></span> One of the best attested miracles in all profane
    history, is that which Tacitus reports of Vespasian, who cured a blind man in
    Alexandria, by means of his spittle, and a lame man by the mere touch of his foot; in
    obedience to a vision of the god Serapis, who had enjoined them to have recourse to
    the Emperor, for these miraculous cures. The story may be seen in that fine
    historian<a id="footnotetag23" name="footnotetag23"></a><a
    href="#footnote23"><sup>23</sup></a>; where every circumstance seems to add weight to
    the testimony, and might be displayed at large with all the force of argument and
    eloquence, if any one were now concerned to enforce the evidence of that exploded and
    idolatrous superstition. The gravity, solidity, age, and probity of so great an
    emperor, who, through the whole course of his life, conversed in a familiar manner
    with his friends and courtiers, and never affected those extraordinary airs of
    divinity assumed by Alexander and Demetrius. The historian, a cotemporary writer,
    noted for candour and veracity, and withal, the greatest and most penetrating genius,
    perhaps, of all antiquity; and so free from any tendency to credulity, that he even
    lies under the contrary imputation, of atheism and profaneness: The persons, from
    whose authority he related the miracle, of established character for judgement and
    veracity, as we may well presume; eye-witnesses of the fact, and confirming their
    testimony, after the Flavian family was despoiled of the empire, and could no longer
    give any reward, as the price of a lie. <i>Utrumque, qui interfuere, nunc quoque
    memorant, postquam nullum mendacio pretium</i>. To which if we add the public nature
    of the facts, as related, it will appear, that no evidence can well be supposed
    stronger for so gross and so palpable a falsehood.</p>
    <p>There is also a memorable story related by Cardinal de Retz, which may well
    deserve our consideration. When that intriguing politician fled into Spain, to avoid
    the persecution of his enemies, he passed through Saragossa, the capital of Arragon,
    where he was shewn, in the cathedral, a man, who had served seven years as a
    door-keeper, and was well known to every body in town, that had ever paid his
    devotions at that church. He had been seen, for so long a time, wanting a leg; but
    recovered that limb by the rubbing of holy oil upon the stump; and the cardinal
    assures us that he saw him with two legs. This miracle was vouched by all the canons
    of the church; and the whole company in town were appealed to for a confirmation of
    the fact; whom the cardinal found, by their zealous devotion, to be thorough
    believers of the miracle. Here the relater was also cotemporary to the supposed
    prodigy, of an incredulous and libertine character, as well as of great genius; the
    miracle of so <i>singular</i> a nature as could scarcely admit of a counterfeit, and
    the witnesses very numerous, and all of them, in a manner, spectators of the fact, to
    which they gave their testimony. And what adds mightily to the force of the evidence,
    and may double our surprise on this occasion, is, that the cardinal himself, who
    relates the story, seems not to give any credit to it, and consequently cannot be
    suspected of any concurrence in the holy fraud. He considered justly, that it was not
    requisite, in order to reject a fact of this nature, to be able accurately to
    disprove the testimony, and to trace its falsehood, through all the circumstances of
    knavery and credulity which produced it. He knew, that, as this was commonly
    altogether impossible at any small distance of time and place; so was it extremely
    difficult, even where one was immediately present, by reason of the bigotry,
    ignorance, cunning, and roguery of a great part of mankind. He therefore concluded,
    like a just reasoner, that such an evidence carried falsehood upon the very face of
    it, and that a miracle, supported by any human testimony, was more properly a subject
    of derision than of argument.</p>
    <p>There surely never was a greater number of miracles ascribed to one person, than
    those, which were lately said to have been wrought in France upon the tomb of
    Abb(c) Paris, the famous Jansenist, with whose sanctity the people were so long
    deluded. The curing of the sick, giving hearing to the deaf, and sight to the blind,
    were every where talked of as the usual effects of that holy sepulchre. But what is
    more extraordinary; many of the miracles were immediately proved upon the spot,
    before judges of unquestioned integrity, attested by witnesses of credit and
    distinction, in a learned age, and on the most eminent theatre that is now in the
    world. Nor is this all: a relation of them was published and dispersed every where;
    nor were the <i>Jesuits</i>, though a learned body, supported by the civil
    magistrate, and determined enemies to those opinions, in whose favour the miracles
    were said to have been wrought, ever able distinctly to refute or detect them<a
    id="footnotetag24" name="footnotetag24"></a><a href="#footnote24"><sup>24</sup></a>.
    Where shall we find such a number of circumstances, agreeing to the corroboration of
    one fact? And what have we to oppose to such a cloud of witnesses, but the absolute
    impossibility or miraculous nature of the events, which they relate? And this surely,
    in the eyes of all reasonable people, will alone be regarded as a sufficient
    refutation.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum97"
    name="mnum97">97.</a></span></span> Is the consequence just, because some human
    testimony has the utmost force and authority in some cases, when it relates the
    battle of Philippi or Pharsalia for instance; that therefore all kinds of testimony
    must, in all cases, have equal force and authority? Suppose that the Caesarean and
    Pompeian factions had, each of them, claimed the victory in these battles, and that
    the historians of each party had uniformly ascribed the advantage to their own side;
    how could mankind, at this distance, have been able to determine between them? The
    contrariety is equally strong between the miracles related by Herodotus or Plutarch,
    and those delivered by Mariana, Bede, or any monkish historian.</p>
    <p>The wise lend a very academic faith to every report which favours the passion of
    the reporter; whether it magnifies his country, his family, or himself, or in any
    other way strikes in with his natural inclinations and propensities. But what greater
    temptation than to appear a missionary, a prophet, an ambassador from heaven? Who
    would not encounter many dangers and difficulties, in order to attain so sublime a
    character? Or if, by the help of vanity and a heated imagination, a man has first
    made a convert of himself, and entered seriously into the delusion; who ever scruples
    to make use of pious frauds, in support of so holy and meritorious a cause?</p>
    <p>The smallest spark may here kindle into the greatest flame; because the materials
    are always prepared for it. The <i>avidum genus auricularum</i><a id="footnotetag25"
    name="footnotetag25"></a><a href="#footnote25"><sup>25</sup></a>, the gazing
    populace, receive greedily, without examination, whatever sooths superstition, and
    promotes wonder.</p>
    <p>How many stories of this nature have, in all ages, been detected and exploded in
    their infancy? How many more have been celebrated for a time, and have afterwards
    sunk into neglect and oblivion? Where such reports, therefore, fly about, the
    solution of the phenomenon is obvious; and we judge in conformity to regular
    experience and observation, when we account for it by the known and natural
    principles of credulity and delusion. And shall we, rather than have a recourse to so
    natural a solution, allow of a miraculous violation of the most established laws of
    nature?</p>
    <p>I need not mention the difficulty of detecting a falsehood in any private or even
    public history, at the place, where it is said to happen; much more when the scene is
    removed to ever so small a distance. Even a court of judicature, with all the
    authority, accuracy, and judgement, which they can employ, find themselves often at a
    loss to distinguish between truth and falsehood in the most recent actions. But the
    matter never comes to any issue, if trusted to the common method of altercations and
    debate and flying rumours; especially when men's passions have taken part on either
    side.</p>
    <p>In the infancy of new religions, the wise and learned commonly esteem the matter
    too inconsiderable to deserve their attention or regard. And when afterwards they
    would willingly detect the cheat, in order to undeceive the deluded multitude, the
    season is now past, and the records and witnesses, which might clear up the matter,
    have perished beyond recovery.</p>
    <p>No means of detection remain, but those which must be drawn from the very
    testimony itself of the reporters: and these, though always sufficient with the
    judicious and knowing, are commonly too fine to fall under the comprehension of the
    vulgar.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum98"
    name="mnum98">98.</a></span></span> Upon the whole, then, it appears, that no
    testimony for any kind of miracle has ever amounted to a probability, much less to a
    proof; and that, even supposing it amounted to a proof, it would be opposed by
    another proof; derived from the very nature of the fact, which it would endeavour to
    establish. It is experience only, which gives authority to human testimony; and it is
    the same experience, which assures us of the laws of nature. When, therefore, these
    two kinds of experience are contrary, we have nothing to do but substract the one
    from the other, and embrace an opinion, either on one side or the other, with that
    assurance which arises from the remainder. But according to the principle here
    explained, this substraction, with regard to all popular religions, amounts to an
    entire annihilation; and therefore we may establish it as a maxim, that no human
    testimony can have such force as to prove a miracle, and make it a just foundation
    for any such system of religion.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum99"
    name="mnum99">99.</a></span></span> I beg the limitations here made may be remarked,
    when I say, that a miracle can never be proved, so as to be the foundation of a
    system of religion. For I own, that otherwise, there may possibly be miracles, or
    violations of the usual course of nature, of such a kind as to admit of proof from
    human testimony; though, perhaps, it will be impossible to find any such in all the
    records of history. Thus, suppose, all authors, in all languages, agree, that, from
    the first of January 1600, there was a total darkness over the whole earth for eight
    days: suppose that the tradition of this extraordinary event is still strong and
    lively among the people: that all travellers, who return from foreign countries,
    bring us accounts of the same tradition, without the least variation or
    contradiction: it is evident, that our present philosophers, instead of doubting the
    fact, ought to receive it as certain, and ought to search for the causes whence it
    might be derived. The decay, corruption, and dissolution of nature, is an event
    rendered probable by so many analogies, that any phenomenon, which seems to have a
    tendency towards that catastrophe, comes within the reach of human testimony, if that
    testimony be very extensive and uniform.</p>
    <p>But suppose, that all the historians who treat of England, should agree, that, on
    the first of January 1600, Queen Elizabeth died; that both before and after her death
    she was seen by her physicians and the whole court, as is usual with persons of her
    rank; that her successor was acknowledged and proclaimed by the parliament; and that,
    after being interred a month, she again appeared, resumed the throne, and governed
    England for three years: I must confess that I should be surprised at the concurrence
    of so many odd circumstances, but should not have the least inclination to believe so
    miraculous an event. I should not doubt of her pretended death, and of those other
    public circumstances that followed it: I should only assert it to have been
    pretended, and that it neither was, nor possibly could be real. You would in vain
    object to me the difficulty, and almost impossibility of deceiving the world in an
    affair of such consequence; the wisdom and solid judgement of that renowned queen;
    with the little or no advantage which she could reap from so poor an artifice: All
    this might astonish me; but I would still reply, that the knavery and folly of men
    are such common phenomena, that I should rather believe the most extraordinary events
    to arise from their concurrence, than admit of so signal a violation of the laws of
    nature.</p>
    <p>But should this miracle be ascribed to any new system of religion; men, in all
    ages, have been so much imposed on by ridiculous stories of that kind, that this very
    circumstance would be a full proof of a cheat, and sufficient, with all men of sense,
    not only to make them reject the fact, but even reject it without farther
    examination. Though the Being to whom the miracle is ascribed, be, in this case,
    Almighty, it does not, upon that account, become a whit more probable; since it is
    impossible for us to know the attributes or actions of such a Being, otherwise than
    from the experience which we have of his productions, in the usual course of nature.
    This still reduces us to past observation, and obliges us to compare the instances of
    the violation of truth in the testimony of men, with those of the violation of the
    laws of nature by miracles, in order to judge which of them is most likely and
    probable. As the violations of truth are more common in the testimony concerning
    religious miracles, than in that concerning any other matter of fact; this must
    diminish very much the authority of the former testimony, and make us form a general
    resolution, never to lend any attention to it, with whatever specious pretence it may
    be covered.</p>
    <p>Lord Bacon seems to have embraced the same principles of reasoning. 'We ought,'
    says he, 'to make a collection or particular history of all monsters and prodigious
    births or productions, and in a word of every thing new, rare, and extraordinary in
    nature. But this must be done with the most severe scrutiny, lest we depart from
    truth. Above all, every relation must be considered as suspicious, which depends in
    any degree upon religion, as the prodigies of Livy: And no less so, every thing that
    is to be found in the writers of natural magic or alchimy, or such authors, who seem,
    all of them, to have an unconquerable appetite for falsehood and fable<a
    id="footnotetag26" name="footnotetag26"></a><a
    href="#footnote26"><sup>26</sup></a>.'</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum100"
    name="mnum100">100.</a></span></span> I am the better pleased with the method of
    reasoning here delivered, as I think it may serve to confound those dangerous friends
    or disguised enemies to the <i>Christian Religion</i>, who have undertaken to defend
    it by the principles of human reason. Our most holy religion is founded on
    <i>Faith</i>, not on reason; and it is a sure method of exposing it to put it to such
    a trial as it is, by no means, fitted to endure. To make this more evident, let us
    examine those miracles, related in scripture; and not to lose ourselves in too wide a
    field, let us confine ourselves to such as we find in the <i>Pentateuch</i>, which we
    shall examine, according to the principles of these pretended Christians, not as the
    word or testimony of God himself, but as the production of a mere human writer and
    historian. Here then we are first to consider a book, presented to us by a barbarous
    and ignorant people, written in an age when they were still more barbarous, and in
    all probability long after the facts which it relates, corroborated by no concurring
    testimony, and resembling those fabulous accounts, which every nation gives of its
    origin. Upon reading this book, we find it full of prodigies and miracles. It gives
    an account of a state of the world and of human nature entirely different from the
    present: Of our fall from that state: Of the age of man, extended to near a thousand
    years: Of the destruction of the world by a deluge: Of the arbitrary choice of one
    people, as the favourites of heaven; and that people the countrymen of the author: Of
    their deliverance from bondage by prodigies the most astonishing imaginable: I desire
    any one to lay his hand upon his heart, and after a serious consideration declare,
    whether he thinks that the falsehood of such a book, supported by such a testimony,
    would be more extraordinary and miraculous than all the miracles it relates; which
    is, however, necessary to make it be received, according to the measures of
    probability above established.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum101"
    name="mnum101">101.</a></span></span> What we have said of miracles may be applied,
    without any variation, to prophecies; and indeed, all prophecies are real miracles,
    and as such only, can be admitted as proofs of any revelation. If it did not exceed
    the capacity of human nature to foretell future events, it would be absurd to employ
    any prophecy as an argument for a divine mission or authority from heaven. So that,
    upon the whole, we may conclude, that the <i>Christian Religion</i> not only was at
    first attended with miracles, but even at this day cannot be believed by any
    reasonable person without one. Mere reason is insufficient to convince us of its
    veracity: And whoever is moved by <i>Faith</i> to assent to it, is conscious of a
    continued miracle in his own person, which subverts all the principles of his
    understanding, and gives him a determination to believe what is most contrary to
    custom and experience.</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section11" name="section11">SECTION XI.</a></h2>
    <h3>OF A PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE AND OF A FUTURE STATE.</h3>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum102"
    name="mnum102">102.</a></span></span> I was lately engaged in conversation with a
    friend who loves sceptical paradoxes; where, though he advanced many principles, of
    which I can by no means approve, yet as they seem to be curious, and to bear some
    relation to the chain of reasoning carried on throughout this enquiry, I shall here
    copy them from my memory as accurately as I can, in order to submit them to the
    judgement of the reader.</p>
    <p>Our conversation began with my admiring the singular good fortune of philosophy,
    which, as it requires entire liberty above all other privileges, and chiefly
    flourishes from the free opposition of sentiments and argumentation, received its
    first birth in an age and country of freedom and toleration, and was never cramped,
    even in its most extravagant principles, by any creeds, concessions, or penal
    statutes. For, except the banishment of Protagoras, and the death of Socrates, which
    last event proceeded partly from other motives, there are scarcely any instances to
    be met with, in ancient history, of this bigotted jealousy, with which the present
    age is so much infested. Epicurus lived at Athens to an advanced age, in peace and
    tranquillity: Epicureans<a id="footnotetag27" name="footnotetag27"></a><a
    href="#footnote27"><sup>27</sup></a> were even admitted to receive the sacerdotal
    character, and to officiate at the altar, in the most sacred rites of the established
    religion: And the public encouragement<a id="footnotetag28"
    name="footnotetag28"></a><a href="#footnote28"><sup>28</sup></a> of pensions and
    salaries was afforded equally, by the wisest of all the Roman emperors<a
    id="footnotetag29" name="footnotetag29"></a><a href="#footnote29"><sup>29</sup></a>,
    to the professors of every sect of philosophy. How requisite such kind of treatment
    was to philosophy, in her early youth, will easily be conceived, if we reflect, that,
    even at present, when she may be supposed more hardy and robust, she bears with much
    difficulty the inclemency of the seasons, and those harsh winds of calumny and
    persecution, which blow upon her.</p>
    <p>You admire, says my friend, as the singular good fortune of philosophy, what seems
    to result from the natural course of things, and to be unavoidable in every age and
    nation. This pertinacious bigotry, of which you complain, as so fatal to philosophy,
    is really her offspring, who, after allying with superstition, separates himself
    entirely from the interest of his parent, and becomes her most inveterate enemy and
    persecutor. Speculative dogmas of religion, the present occasions of such furious
    dispute, could not possibly be conceived or admitted in the early ages of the world;
    when mankind, being wholly illiterate, formed an idea of religion more suitable to
    their weak apprehension, and composed their sacred tenets of such tales chiefly as
    were the objects of traditional belief, more than of argument or disputation. After
    the first alarm, therefore, was over, which arose from the new paradoxes and
    principles of the philosophers; these teachers seem ever after, during the ages of
    antiquity, to have lived in great harmony with the established superstition, and to
    have made a fair partition of mankind between them; the former claiming all the
    learned and wise, the latter possessing all the vulgar and illiterate.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum103"
    name="mnum103">103.</a></span></span> It seems then, say I, that you leave politics
    entirely out of the question, and never suppose, that a wise magistrate can justly be
    jealous of certain tenets of philosophy, such as those of Epicurus, which, denying a
    divine existence, and consequently a providence and a future state, seem to loosen,
    in a great measure, the ties of morality, and may be supposed, for that reason,
    pernicious to the peace of civil society.</p>
    <p>I know, replied he, that in fact these persecutions never, in any age, proceeded
    from calm reason, or from experience of the pernicious consequences of philosophy;
    but arose entirely from passion and prejudice. But what if I should advance farther,
    and assert, that if Epicurus had been accused before the people, by any of the
    <i>sycophants</i> or informers of those days, he could easily have defended his
    cause, and proved his principles of philosophy to be as salutary as those of his
    adversaries, who endeavoured, with such zeal, to expose him to the public hatred and
    jealousy?</p>
    <p>I wish, said I, you would try your eloquence upon so extraordinary a topic, and
    make a speech for Epicurus, which might satisfy, not the mob of Athens, if you will
    allow that ancient and polite city to have contained any mob, but the more
    philosophical part of his audience, such as might be supposed capable of
    comprehending his arguments.</p>
    <p>The matter would not be difficult, upon such conditions, replied he: And if you
    please, I shall suppose myself Epicurus for a moment, and make you stand for the
    Athenian people, and shall deliver you such an harangue as will fill all the urn with
    white beans, and leave not a black one to gratify the malice of my adversaries.</p>
    <p>Very well: Pray proceed upon these suppositions.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum104"
    name="mnum104">104.</a></span></span> I come hither, O ye Athenians, to justify in
    your assembly what I maintained in my school, and I find myself impeached by furious
    antagonists, instead of reasoning with calm and dispassionate enquirers. Your
    deliberations, which of right should be directed to questions of public good, and the
    interest of the commonwealth, are diverted to the disquisitions of speculative
    philosophy; and these magnificent, but perhaps fruitless enquiries, take place of
    your more familiar but more useful occupations. But so far as in me lies, I will
    prevent this abuse. We shall not here dispute concerning the origin and government of
    worlds. We shall only enquire how far such questions concern the public interest. And
    if I can persuade you, that they are entirely indifferent to the peace of society and
    security of government, I hope that you will presently send us back to our schools,
    there to examine, at leisure, the question the most sublime, but at the same time,
    the most speculative of all philosophy.</p>
    <p>The religious philosophers, not satisfied with the tradition of your forefathers,
    and doctrine of your priests (in which I willingly acquiesce), indulge a rash
    curiosity, in trying how far they can establish religion upon the principles of
    reason; and they thereby excite, instead of satisfying, the doubts, which naturally
    arise from a diligent and scrutinous enquiry. They paint, in the most magnificent
    colours, the order, beauty, and wise arrangement of the universe; and then ask, if
    such a glorious display of intelligence could proceed from the fortuitous concourse
    of atoms, or if chance could produce what the greatest genius can never sufficiently
    admire. I shall not examine the justness of this argument. I shall allow it to be as
    solid as my antagonists and accusers can desire. It is sufficient, if I can prove,
    from this very reasoning, that the question is entirely speculative, and that, when,
    in my philosophical disquisitions, I deny a providence and a future state, I
    undermine not the foundations of society, but advance principles, which they
    themselves, upon their own topics, if they argue consistently, must allow to be solid
    and satisfactory.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum105"
    name="mnum105">105.</a></span></span> You then, who are my accusers, have
    acknowledged, that the chief or sole argument for a divine existence (which I never
    questioned) is derived from the order of nature; where there appear such marks of
    intelligence and design, that you think it extravagant to assign for its cause,
    either chance, or the blind and unguided force of matter. You allow, that this is an
    argument drawn from effects to causes. From the order of the work, you infer, that
    there must have been project and forethought in the workman. If you cannot make out
    this point, you allow, that your conclusion fails; and you pretend not to establish
    the conclusion in a greater latitude than the phenomena of nature will justify. These
    are your concessions. I desire you to mark the consequences.</p>
    <p>When we infer any particular cause from an effect, we must proportion the one to
    the other, and can never be allowed to ascribe to the cause any qualities, but what
    are exactly sufficient to produce the effect. A body of ten ounces raised in any
    scale may serve as a proof, that the counterbalancing weight exceeds ten ounces; but
    can never afford a reason that it exceeds a hundred. If the cause, assigned for any
    effect, be not sufficient to produce it, we must either reject that cause, or add to
    it such qualities as will give it a just proportion to the effect. 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 qualities
    and energies, without reason or authority.</p>
    <p>The same rule holds, whether the cause assigned be brute unconscious matter, or a
    rational intelligent being. If the cause be known only by the effect, we never ought
    to ascribe to it any qualities, beyond what are precisely requisite to produce the
    effect: Nor can we, by any rules of just reasoning, return back from the cause, and
    infer other effects from it, beyond those by which alone it is known to us. No one,
    merely from the sight of one of Zeuxis's pictures, could know, that he was also a
    statuary or architect, and was an artist no less skilful in stone and marble than in
    colours. The talents and taste, displayed in the particular work before us; these we
    may safely conclude the workman to be possessed of. The cause must be proportioned to
    the effect; and if we exactly and precisely proportion it, we shall never find in it
    any qualities, that point farther, or afford an inference concerning any other design
    or performance. Such qualities must be somewhat beyond what is merely requisite for
    producing the effect, which we examine.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum106"
    name="mnum106">106.</a></span></span> Allowing, therefore, the gods to be the authors
    of the existence or order of the universe; it follows, that they possess that precise
    degree of power, intelligence, and benevolence, which appears in their workmanship;
    but nothing farther can ever be proved, except we call in the assistance of
    exaggeration and flattery to supply the defects of argument and reasoning. So far as
    the traces of any attributes, at present, appear, so far may we conclude these
    attributes to exist. The supposition of farther attributes is mere hypothesis; much
    more the supposition, that, in distant regions of space or periods of time, there has
    been, or will be, a more magnificent display of these attributes, and a scheme of
    administration more suitable to such imaginary virtues. We can never be allowed to
    mount up from the universe, the effect, to Jupiter, the cause; and then descend
    downwards, to infer any new effect from that cause; as if the present effects alone
    were not entirely worthy of the glorious attributes, which we ascribe to that deity.
    The knowledge of the cause being derived solely from the effect, they must be exactly
    adjusted to each other; and the one can never refer to anything farther, or be the
    foundation of any new inference and conclusion.</p>
    <p>You find certain phenomena in nature. You seek a cause or author. You imagine that
    you have found him. You afterwards become so enamoured of this offspring of your
    brain, that you imagine it impossible, but he must produce something greater and more
    perfect than the present scene of things, which is so full of ill and disorder. You
    forget, that this superlative intelligence and benevolence are entirely imaginary,
    or, at least, without any foundation in reason; and that you have no ground to
    ascribe to him any qualities, but what you see he has actually exerted and displayed
    in his productions. Let your gods, therefore, O philosophers, be suited to the
    present appearances of nature: and presume not to alter these appearances by
    arbitrary suppositions, in order to suit them to the attributes, which you so fondly
    ascribe to your deities.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum107"
    name="mnum107">107.</a></span></span> When priests and poets, supported by your
    authority, O Athenians, talk of a golden or silver age, which preceded the present
    state of vice and misery, I hear them with attention and with reverence. But when
    philosophers, who pretend to neglect authority, and to cultivate reason, hold the
    same discourse, I pay them not, I own, the same obsequious submission and pious
    deference. I ask; who carried them into the celestial regions, who admitted them into
    the councils of the gods, who opened to them the book of fate, that they thus rashly
    affirm, that their deities have executed, or will execute, any purpose beyond what
    has actually appeared? If they tell me, that they have mounted on the steps or by the
    gradual ascent of reason, and by drawing inferences from effects to causes, I still
    insist, that they have aided the ascent of reason by the wings of imagination;
    otherwise they could not thus change their manner of inference, and argue from causes
    to effects; presuming, that a more perfect production than the present world would be
    more suitable to such perfect beings as the gods, and forgetting that they have no
    reason to ascribe to these celestial beings any perfection or any attribute, but what
    can be found in the present world.</p>
    <p>Hence all the fruitless industry to account for the ill appearances of nature, and
    save the honour of the gods; while we must acknowledge the reality of that evil and
    disorder, with which the world so much abounds. The obstinate and intractable
    qualities of matter, we are told, or the observance of general laws, or some such
    reason, is the sole cause, which controlled the power and benevolence of Jupiter, and
    obliged him to create mankind and every sensible creature so imperfect and so
    unhappy. These attributes then, are, it seems, beforehand, taken for granted, in
    their greatest latitude. And upon that supposition, I own that such conjectures may,
    perhaps, be admitted as plausible solutions of the ill phenomena. But still I ask;
    Why take these attributes for granted, or why ascribe to the cause any qualities but
    what actually appear in the effect? Why torture your brain to justify the course of
    nature upon suppositions, which, for aught you know, may be entirely imaginary, and
    of which there are to be found no traces in the course of nature?</p>
    <p>The religious hypothesis, therefore, must be considered only as a particular
    method of accounting for the visible phenomena of the universe: but no just reasoner
    will ever presume to infer from it any single fact, and alter or add to the
    phenomena, in any single particular. If you think, that the appearances of things
    prove such causes, it is allowable for you to draw an inference concerning the
    existence of these causes. In such complicated and sublime subjects, every one should
    be indulged in the liberty of conjecture and argument. But here you ought to rest. If
    you come backward, and arguing from your inferred causes, conclude, that any other
    fact has existed, or will exist, in the course of nature, which may serve as a fuller
    display of particular attributes; I must admonish you, that you have departed from
    the method of reasoning, attached to the present subject, and have certainly added
    something to the attributes of the cause, beyond what appears in the effect;
    otherwise you could never, with tolerable sense or propriety, add anything to the
    effect, in order to render it more worthy of the cause.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum108"
    name="mnum108">108.</a></span></span> Where, then, is the odiousness of that
    doctrine, which I teach in my school, or rather, which I examine in my gardens? Or
    what do you find in this whole question, wherein the security of good morals, or the
    peace and order of society, is in the least concerned?</p>
    <p>I deny a providence, you say, and supreme governor of the world, who guides the
    course of events, and punishes the vicious with infamy and disappointment, and
    rewards the virtuous with honour and success, in all their undertakings. But surely,
    I deny not the course itself of events, which lies open to every one's inquiry and
    examination. I acknowledge, that, in the present order of things, virtue is attended
    with more peace of mind than vice, and meets with a more favourable reception from
    the world. I am sensible, that, according to the past experience of mankind,
    friendship is the chief joy of human life, and moderation the only source of
    tranquillity and happiness. I never balance between the virtuous and the vicious
    course of life; but am sensible, that, to a well-disposed mind, every advantage is on
    the side of the former. And what can you say more, allowing all your suppositions and
    reasonings? You tell me, indeed, that this disposition of things proceeds from
    intelligence and design. But whatever it proceeds from, the disposition itself, on
    which depends our happiness or misery, and consequently our conduct and deportment in
    life is still the same. It is still open for me, as well as you, to regulate my
    behaviour, by my experience of past events. And if you affirm, that, while a divine
    providence is allowed, and a supreme distributive justice in the universe, I ought to
    expect some more particular reward of the good, and punishment of the bad, beyond the
    ordinary course of events; I here find the same fallacy, which I have before
    endeavoured to detect. You persist in imagining, that, if we grant that divine
    existence, for which you so earnestly contend, you may safely infer consequences from
    it, and add something to the experienced order of nature, by arguing from the
    attributes which you ascribe to your gods. You seem not to remember, that all your
    reasonings on this subject can only be drawn from effects to causes; and that every
    argument, deducted from causes to effects, must of necessity be a gross sophism;
    since it is impossible for you to know anything of the cause, but what you have
    antecedently, not inferred, but discovered to the full, in the effect.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum109"
    name="mnum109">109.</a></span></span> But what must a philosopher think of those vain
    reasoners, who, instead of regarding the present scene of things as the sole object
    of their contemplation, so far reverse the whole course of nature, as to render this
    life merely a passage to something farther; a porch, which leads to a greater, and
    vastly different building; a prologue, which serves only to introduce the piece, and
    give it more grace and propriety? Whence, do you think, can such philosophers derive
    their idea of the gods? From their own conceit and imagination surely. For if they
    derived it from the present phenomena, it would never point to anything farther, but
    must be exactly adjusted to them. That the divinity may <i>possibly</i> be endowed
    with attributes, which we have never seen exerted; may be governed by principles of
    action, which we cannot discover to be satisfied: all this will freely be allowed.
    But still this is mere <i>possibility</i> and hypothesis. We never can have reason to
    <i>infer</i> any attributes, or any principles of action in him, but so far as we
    know them to have been exerted and satisfied.</p>
    <p><i>Are there any marks of a distributive justice in the world?</i> If you answer
    in the affirmative, I conclude, that, since justice here exerts itself, it is
    satisfied. If you reply in the negative, I conclude, that you have then no reason to
    ascribe justice, in our sense of it, to the gods. If you hold a medium between
    affirmation and negation, by saying, that the justice of the gods, at present, exerts
    itself in part, but not in its full extent; I answer, that you have no reason to give
    it any particular extent, but only so far as you see it, <i>at present</i>, exert
    itself.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum110"
    name="mnum110">110.</a></span></span> Thus I bring the dispute, O Athenians, to a
    short issue with my antagonists. The course of nature lies open to my contemplation
    as well as to theirs. The experienced train of events is the great standard, by which
    we all regulate our conduct. Nothing else can be appealed to in the field, or in the
    senate. Nothing else ought ever to be heard of in the school, or in the closet. In
    vain would our limited understanding break through those boundaries, which are too
    narrow for our fond imagination. While we argue from the course of nature, and infer
    a particular intelligent cause, which first bestowed, and still preserves order in
    the universe, we embrace a principle, which is both uncertain and useless. It is
    uncertain; because the subject lies entirely beyond the reach of human experience. It
    is useless; because our knowledge of this cause being derived entirely from the
    course of nature, we can never, according to the rules of just reasoning, return back
    from the cause with any new inference, or making additions to the common and
    experienced course of nature, establish any new principles of conduct and
    behaviour.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum111"
    name="mnum111">111.</a></span></span> I observe (said I, finding he had finished his
    harangue) that you neglect not the artifice of the demagogues of old; and as you were
    pleased to make me stand for the people, you insinuate yourself into my favour by
    embracing those principles, to which, you know, I have always expressed a particular
    attachment. But allowing you to make experience (as indeed I think you ought) the
    only standard of our judgement concerning this, and all other questions of fact; I
    doubt not but, from the very same experience, to which you appeal, it may be possible
    to refute this reasoning, which you have put into the mouth of Epicurus. If you saw,
    for instance, a half-finished building, surrounded with heaps of brick and stone and
    mortar, and all the instruments of masonry; could you not <i>infer</i> from the
    effect, that it was a work of design and contrivance? And could you not return again,
    from this inferred cause, to infer new additions to the effect, and conclude, that
    the building would soon be finished, and receive all the further improvements, which
    art could bestow upon it? If you saw upon the sea-shore the print of one human foot,
    you would conclude, that a man had passed that way, and that he had also left the
    traces of the other foot, though effaced by the rolling of the sands or inundation of
    the waters. Why then do you refuse to admit the same method of reasoning with regard
    to the order of nature? Consider the world and the present life only as an imperfect
    building, from which you can infer a superior intelligence; and arguing from that
    superior intelligence, which can leave nothing imperfect; why may you not infer a
    more finished scheme or plan, which will receive its completion in some distant point
    of space or time? Are not these methods of reasoning exactly similar? And under what
    pretence can you embrace the one, while you reject the other?</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum112"
    name="mnum112">112.</a></span></span> The infinite difference of the subjects,
    replied he, is a sufficient foundation for this difference in my conclusions. In
    works of <i>human</i> art and contrivance, it is allowable to advance from the effect
    to the cause, and returning back from the cause, to form new inferences concerning
    the effect, and examine the alterations, which it has probably undergone, or may
    still undergo. But what is the foundation of this method of reasoning? Plainly this;
    that man is a being, whom we know by experience, whose motives and designs we are
    acquainted with, and whose projects and inclinations have a certain connexion and
    coherence, according to the laws which nature has established for the government of
    such a creature. When, therefore, we find, that any work has proceeded from the skill
    and industry of man; as we are otherwise acquainted with the nature of the animal, we
    can draw a hundred inferences concerning what may be expected from him; and these
    inferences will all be founded in experience and observation. But did we know man
    only from the single work or production which we examine, it were impossible for us
    to argue in this manner; because our knowledge of all the qualities, which we ascribe
    to him, being in that case derived from the production, it is impossible they could
    point to anything farther, 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 some figure
    adapted to it, by which it was produced: but the print of a human foot proves
    likewise, from our other experience, that there was probably another foot, which also
    left its impression, though effaced by time or other accidents. Here we mount from
    the effect to the cause; and descending again from the cause, infer alterations in
    the effect; but this is not a continuation of the same simple chain of reasoning. We
    comprehend in this case a hundred other experiences and observations, concerning the
    <i>usual</i> figure and members of that species of animal, without which this method
    of argument must be considered as fallacious and sophistical.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum113"
    name="mnum113">113.</a></span></span> The case is not the same with our reasonings
    from the works of nature. The Deity is known to us only by his productions, and is a
    single being in the universe, not comprehended under any species or genus, from whose
    experienced attributes or qualities, we can, by analogy, infer any attribute or
    quality in him. As the universe shews wisdom and goodness, we infer wisdom and
    goodness. As it shews a particular degree of these perfections, we infer a particular
    degree of them, precisely adapted to the effect which we examine. But farther
    attributes or farther degrees of the same attributes, we can never be authorised to
    infer or suppose, by any rules of just reasoning. Now, without some such licence of
    supposition, it is impossible for us to argue from the cause, or infer any alteration
    in the effect, beyond what has immediately fallen under our observation. Greater good
    produced by this Being must still prove a greater degree of goodness: a more
    impartial distribution of rewards and punishments must proceed from a greater regard
    to justice and equity. Every supposed addition to the works of nature makes an
    addition to the attributes of the Author of nature; and consequently, being entirely
    unsupported by any reason or argument, can never be admitted but as mere conjecture
    and hypothesis<a id="footnotetag30" name="footnotetag30"></a><a
    href="#footnote30"><sup>30</sup></a>.</p>
    <p>The great source of our mistake in this subject, and of the unbounded licence of
    conjecture, which we indulge, is, that we tacitly consider ourselves, as in the place
    of the Supreme Being, and conclude, that he will, on every occasion, observe the same
    conduct, which we ourselves, in his situation, would have embraced as reasonable and
    eligible. But, besides that the ordinary course of nature may convince us, that
    almost everything is regulated by principles and maxims very different from ours;
    besides this, I say, it must evidently appear contrary to all rules of analogy to
    reason, from the intentions and projects of men, to those of a Being so different,
    and so much superior. In human nature, there is a certain experienced coherence of
    designs and inclinations; so that when, from any fact, we have discovered one
    intention of any man, it may often be reasonable, from experience, to infer another,
    and draw a long chain of conclusions concerning his past or future conduct. But this
    method of reasoning can never have place with regard to a Being, so remote and
    incomprehensible, who bears much less analogy to any other being in the universe than
    the sun to a waxen taper, and who discovers himself only by some faint traces or
    outlines, beyond which we have no authority to ascribe to him any attribute or
    perfection. What we imagine to be a superior perfection, may really be a defect. Or
    were it ever so much a perfection, the ascribing of it to the Supreme Being, where it
    appears not to have been really exerted, to the full, in his works, savours more of
    flattery and panegyric, than of just reasoning and sound philosophy. All the
    philosophy, therefore, in the world, and all the religion, which is nothing but a
    species of philosophy, will never be able to carry us beyond the usual course of
    experience, or give us measures of conduct and behaviour different from those which
    are furnished by reflections on common life. No new fact can ever be inferred from
    the religious hypothesis; no event foreseen or foretold; no reward or punishment
    expected or dreaded, beyond what is already known by practice and observation. So
    that my apology for Epicurus will still appear solid and satisfactory; nor have the
    political interests of society any connexion with the philosophical disputes
    concerning metaphysics and religion.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum114"
    name="mnum114">114.</a></span></span> There is still one circumstance, replied I,
    which you seem to have overlooked. Though I should allow your premises, I must deny
    your conclusion. You conclude, that religious doctrines and reasonings <i>can</i>
    have no influence on life, because they <i>ought</i> to have no influence; never
    considering, that men reason not in the same manner you do, but draw many
    consequences from the belief of a divine Existence, and suppose that the Deity will
    inflict punishments on vice, and bestow rewards on virtue, beyond what appear in the
    ordinary course of nature. Whether this reasoning of theirs be just or not, is no
    matter. Its influence on their life and conduct must still be the same. And, those,
    who attempt to disabuse them of such prejudices, may, for aught I know, be good
    reasoners, but I cannot allow them to be good citizens and politicians; since they
    free men from one restraint upon their passions, and make the infringement of the
    laws of society, in one respect, more easy and secure.</p>
    <p>After all, I may, perhaps, agree to your general conclusion in favour of liberty,
    though upon different premises from those, on which you endeavour to found it. I
    think, that the state ought to tolerate every principle of philosophy; nor is there
    an instance, that any government has suffered in its political interests by such
    indulgence. There is no enthusiasm among philosophers; their doctrines are not very
    alluring to the people; and no restraint can be put upon their reasonings, but what
    must be of dangerous consequence to the sciences, and even to the state, by paving
    the way for persecution and oppression in points, where the generality of mankind are
    more deeply interested and concerned.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum115"
    name="mnum115">115.</a></span></span> But there occurs to me (continued I) with
    regard to your main topic, a difficulty, which I shall just propose to you without
    insisting on it; lest it lead into reasonings of too nice and delicate a nature. In a
    word, I much doubt whether it be possible for a cause to be known only by its effect
    (as you have all along supposed) or to be of so singular and particular a nature as
    to have no parallel and no similarity with any other cause or object, that has ever
    fallen under our observation. It is only when two <i>species</i> of objects are found
    to be constantly conjoined, that we can infer the one from the other; and were an
    effect presented, which was entirely singular, and could not be comprehended under
    any known <i>species</i>, I do not see, that we could form any conjecture or
    inference at all concerning its cause. If experience and observation and analogy be,
    indeed, the only guides which we can reasonably follow in inferences of this nature;
    both the effect and cause must bear a similarity and resemblance to other effects and
    causes, which we know, and which we have found, in many instances, to be conjoined
    with each other. I leave it to your own reflection to pursue the consequences of this
    principle. I shall just observe, that, as the antagonists of Epicurus always suppose
    the universe, an effect quite singular and unparalleled, to be the proof of a Deity,
    a cause no less singular and unparalleled; your reasonings, upon that supposition,
    seem, at least, to merit our attention. There is, I own, some difficulty, how we can
    ever return from the cause to the effect, and, reasoning from our ideas of the
    former, infer any alteration on the latter, or any addition to it.</p>
    <hr />
    <h2><a id="section12" name="section12">SECTION XII.</a></h2>
    <h3>OF THE ACADEMICAL OR SCEPTICAL PHILOSOPHY.</h3>
    <h4>PART I.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum116"
    name="mnum116">116.</a></span></span> There is not a greater number of philosophical
    reasonings, displayed upon any subject, than those, which prove the existence of a
    Deity, and refute the fallacies of <i>Atheists</i>; and yet the most religious
    philosophers still dispute whether any man can be so blinded as to be a speculative
    atheist. How shall we reconcile these contradictions? The knights-errant, who
    wandered about to clear the world of dragons and giants, never entertained the least
    doubt with regard to the existence of these monsters.</p>
    <p>The <i>Sceptic</i> is another enemy of religion, who naturally provokes the
    indignation of all divines and graver philosophers; though it is certain, that no man
    ever met with any such absurd creature, or conversed with a man, who had no opinion
    or principle concerning any subject, either of action or speculation. This begets a
    very natural question; What is meant by a sceptic? And how far it is possible to push
    these philosophical principles of doubt and uncertainty?</p>
    <p>There is a species of scepticism, <i>antecedent</i> to all study and philosophy,
    which is much inculcated by Des Cartes and others, as a sovereign preservative
    against error and precipitate judgement. It recommends an universal doubt, not only
    of all our former opinions and principles, but also of our very faculties; of whose
    veracity, say they, we must assure ourselves, by a chain of reasoning, deduced from
    some original principle, which cannot possibly be fallacious or deceitful. But
    neither is there any such original principle, which has a prerogative above others,
    that are self-evident and convincing: or if there were, could we advance a step
    beyond it, but by the use of those very faculties, of which we are supposed to be
    already diffident. The Cartesian doubt, therefore, were it ever possible to be
    attained by any human creature (as it plainly is not) would be entirely incurable;
    and no reasoning could ever bring us to a state of assurance and conviction upon any
    subject.</p>
    <p>It must, however, be confessed, that this species of scepticism, when more
    moderate, may be understood in a very reasonable sense, and is a necessary
    preparative to the study of philosophy, by preserving a proper impartiality in our
    judgements, and weaning our mind from all those prejudices, which we may have imbibed
    from education or rash opinion. To begin with clear and self-evident principles, to
    advance by timorous and sure steps, to review frequently our conclusions, and examine
    accurately all their consequences; though by these means we shall make both a slow
    and a short progress in our systems; are the only methods, by which we can ever hope
    to reach truth, and attain a proper stability and certainty in our
    determinations.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum117"
    name="mnum117">117.</a></span></span> There is another species of scepticism,
    <i>consequent</i> to science and enquiry, when men are supposed to have discovered,
    either the absolute fallaciousness of their mental faculties, or their unfitness to
    reach any fixed determination in all those curious subjects of speculation, about
    which they are commonly employed. Even our very senses are brought into dispute, by a
    certain species of philosophers; and the maxims of common life are subjected to the
    same doubt as the most profound principles or conclusions of metaphysics and
    theology. As these paradoxical tenets (if they may be called tenets) are to be met
    with in some philosophers, and the refutation of them in several, they naturally
    excite our curiosity, and make us enquire into the arguments, on which they may be
    founded.</p>
    <p>I need not insist upon the more trite topics, employed by the sceptics in all
    ages, against the evidence of <i>sense</i>; such as those which are derived from the
    imperfection and fallaciousness of our organs, on numberless occasions; the crooked
    appearance of an oar in water; the various aspects of objects, according to their
    different distances; the double images which arise from the pressing one eye; with
    many other appearances of a like nature. These sceptical topics, indeed, are only
    sufficient to prove, that the senses alone are not implicitly to be depended on; but
    that we must correct their evidence by reason, and by considerations, derived from
    the nature of the medium, the distance of the object, and the disposition of the
    organ, in order to render them, within their sphere, the proper <i>criteria</i> of
    truth and falsehood. There are other more profound arguments against the senses,
    which admit not of so easy a solution.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum118"
    name="mnum118">118.</a></span></span> It seems evident, that men are carried, by a
    natural instinct or prepossession, to repose faith in their senses; and that, without
    any reasoning, or even almost before the use of reason, we always suppose an external
    universe, which depends not on our perception, but would exist, though we and every
    sensible creature were absent or annihilated. Even the animal creation are governed
    by a like opinion, and preserve this belief of external objects, in all their
    thoughts, designs, and actions.</p>
    <p>It seems also evident, that, when men follow this blind and powerful instinct of
    nature, they always suppose the very images, presented by the senses, to be the
    external objects, and never entertain any suspicion, that the one are nothing but
    representations of the other. This very table, which we see white, and which we feel
    hard, is believed to exist, independent of our perception, and to be something
    external to our mind, which perceives it. Our presence bestows not being on it: our
    absence does not annihilate it. It preserves its existence uniform and entire,
    independent of the situation of intelligent beings, who perceive or contemplate
    it.</p>
    <p>But this universal and primary opinion of all men is soon destroyed by the
    slightest philosophy, which teaches us, that nothing can ever be present to the mind
    but an image or perception, and that the senses are only the inlets, through which
    these images are conveyed, without being able to produce any immediate intercourse
    between the mind and the object. The table, which we see, seems to diminish, as we
    remove farther from it: but the real table, which exists independent of us, suffers
    no alteration: it was, therefore, nothing but its image, which was present to the
    mind. These are the obvious dictates of reason; and no man, who reflects, ever
    doubted, that the existences, which we consider, when we say, <i>this house</i> and
    <i>that tree</i>, are nothing but perceptions in the mind, and fleeting copies or
    representations of other existences, which remain uniform and independent.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum119"
    name="mnum119">119.</a></span></span> So far, then, are we necessitated by reasoning
    to contradict or depart from the primary instincts of nature, and to embrace a new
    system with regard to the evidence of our senses. But here philosophy finds herself
    extremely embarrassed, when she would justify this new system, and obviate the cavils
    and objections of the sceptics. She can no longer plead the infallible and
    irresistible instinct of nature: for that led us to a quite different system, which
    is acknowledged fallible and even erroneous. And to justify this pretended
    philosophical system, by a chain of clear and convincing argument, or even any
    appearance of argument, exceeds the power of all human capacity.</p>
    <p>By what argument can it be proved, that the perceptions of the mind must be caused
    by external objects, entirely different from them, though resembling them (if that be
    possible) and could not arise either from the energy of the mind itself, or from the
    suggestion of some invisible and unknown spirit, or from some other cause still more
    unknown to us? It is acknowledged, that, in fact, many of these perceptions arise not
    from anything external, as in dreams, madness, and other diseases. And nothing can be
    more inexplicable than the manner, in which body should so operate upon mind as ever
    to convey an image of itself to a substance, supposed of so different, and even
    contrary a nature.</p>
    <p>It is a question of fact, whether the perceptions of the senses be produced by
    external objects, resembling them: how shall this question be determined? By
    experience surely; as all other questions of a like nature. But here experience is,
    and must be entirely silent. The mind has never anything present to it but the
    perceptions, and cannot possibly reach any experience of their connexion with
    objects. The supposition of such a connexion is, therefore, without any foundation in
    reasoning.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum120"
    name="mnum120">120.</a></span></span> To have recourse to the veracity of the supreme
    Being, in order to prove the veracity of our senses, is surely making a very
    unexpected circuit. If his veracity were at all concerned in this matter, our senses
    would be entirely infallible; because it is not possible that he can ever deceive.
    Not to mention, that, if the external world be once called in question, we shall be
    at a loss to find arguments, by which we may prove the existence of that Being or any
    of his attributes.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum121"
    name="mnum121">121.</a></span></span> This is a topic, therefore, in which the
    profounder and more philosophical sceptics will always triumph, when they endeavour
    to introduce an universal doubt into all subjects of human knowledge and enquiry. Do
    you follow the instincts and propensities of nature, may they say, in assenting to
    the veracity of sense? But these lead you to believe that the very perception or
    sensible image is the external object. Do you disclaim this principle, in order to
    embrace a more rational opinion, that the perceptions are only representations of
    something external? You here depart from your natural propensities and more obvious
    sentiments; and yet are not able to satisfy your reason, which can never find any
    convincing argument from experience to prove, that the perceptions are connected with
    any external objects.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum122"
    name="mnum122">122.</a></span></span> There is another sceptical topic of a like
    nature, derived from the most profound philosophy; which might merit our attention,
    were it requisite to dive so deep, in order to discover arguments and reasonings,
    which can so little serve to any serious purpose. It is universally allowed by modern
    enquirers, that all the sensible qualities of objects, such as hard, soft, hot, cold,
    white, black, &amp;c. are merely secondary, and exist not in the objects themselves,
    but are perceptions of the mind, without any external archetype or model, which they
    represent. If this be allowed, with regard to secondary qualities, it must also
    follow, with regard to the supposed primary qualities of extension and solidity; nor
    can the latter be any more entitled to that denomination than the former. The idea of
    extension is entirely acquired from the senses of sight and feeling; and if all the
    qualities, perceived by the senses, be in the mind, not in the object, the same
    conclusion must reach the idea of extension, which is wholly dependent on the
    sensible ideas or the ideas of secondary qualities. Nothing can save us from this
    conclusion, but the asserting, that the ideas of those primary qualities are attained
    by <i>Abstraction</i>, an opinion, which, if we examine it accurately, we shall find
    to be unintelligible, and even absurd. An extension, that is neither tangible nor
    visible, cannot possibly be conceived: and a tangible or visible extension, which is
    neither hard nor soft, black nor white, is equally beyond the reach of human
    conception. Let any man try to conceive a triangle in general, which is neither
    <i>Isosceles</i> nor <i>Scalenum</i>, nor has any particular length or proportion of
    sides; and he will soon perceive the absurdity of all the scholastic notions with
    regard to abstraction and general ideas.<a id="footnotetag31"
    name="footnotetag31"></a><a href="#footnote31"><sup>31</sup></a></p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum123"
    name="mnum123">123.</a></span></span> Thus the first philosophical objection to the
    evidence of sense or to the opinion of external existence consists in this, that such
    an opinion, if rested on natural instinct, is contrary to reason, and if referred to
    reason, is contrary to natural instinct, and at the same time carries no rational
    evidence with it, to convince an impartial enquirer. The second objection goes
    farther, and represents this opinion as contrary to reason: at least, if it be a
    principle of reason, that all sensible qualities are in the mind, not in the object.
    Bereave matter of all its intelligible qualities, both primary and secondary, you in
    a manner annihilate it, and leave only a certain unknown, inexplicable
    <i>something</i>, as the cause of our perceptions; a notion so imperfect, that no
    sceptic will think it worth while to contend against it.</p>
    <h4>PART II.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum124"
    name="mnum124">124.</a></span></span> It may seem a very extravagant attempt of the
    sceptics to destroy <i>reason</i> by argument and ratiocination; yet is this the
    grand scope of all their enquiries and disputes. They endeavour to find objections,
    both to our abstract reasonings, and to those which regard matter of fact and
    existence.</p>
    <p>The chief objection against all <i>abstract</i> reasonings is derived from the
    ideas of space and time; ideas, which, in common life and to a careless view, are
    very clear and intelligible, but when they pass through the scrutiny of the profound
    sciences (and they are the chief object of these sciences) afford principles, which
    seem full of absurdity and contradiction. No priestly <i>dogmas</i>, invented on
    purpose to tame and subdue the rebellious reason of mankind, ever shocked common
    sense more than the doctrine of the infinitive divisibility of extension, with its
    consequences; as they are pompously displayed by all geometricians and
    metaphysicians, with a kind of triumph and exultation. A real quantity, infinitely
    less than any finite quantity, containing quantities infinitely less than itself, and
    so on <i>in infinitum</i>; this is an edifice so bold and prodigious, that it is too
    weighty for any pretended demonstration to support, because it shocks the clearest
    and most natural principles of human reason.<a id="footnotetag32"
    name="footnotetag32"></a><a href="#footnote32"><sup>32</sup></a> But what renders the
    matter more extraordinary, is, that these seemingly absurd opinions are supported by
    a chain of reasoning, the clearest and most natural; nor is it possible for us to
    allow the premises without admitting the consequences. Nothing can be more convincing
    and satisfactory than all the conclusions concerning the properties of circles and
    triangles; and yet, when these are once received, how can we deny, that the angle of
    contact between a circle and its tangent is infinitely less than any rectilineal
    angle, that as you may increase the diameter of the circle <i>in infinitum</i>, this
    angle of contact becomes still less, even <i>in infinitum</i>, and that the angle of
    contact between other curves and their tangents may be infinitely less than those
    between any circle and its tangent, and so on, <i>in infinitum</i>? The demonstration
    of these principles seems as unexceptionable as that which proves the three angles of
    a triangle to be equal to two right ones, though the latter opinion be natural and
    easy, and the former big with contradiction and absurdity. Reason here seems to be
    thrown into a kind of amazement and suspence, which, without the suggestions of any
    sceptic, gives her a diffidence of herself, and of the ground on which she treads.
    She sees a full light, which illuminates certain places; but that light borders upon
    the most profound darkness. And between these she is so dazzled and confounded, that
    she scarcely can pronounce with certainty and assurance concerning any one
    object.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum125"
    name="mnum125">125.</a></span></span> The absurdity of these bold determinations of
    the abstract sciences seems to become, if possible, still more palpable with regard
    to time than extension. An infinite number of real parts of time, passing in
    succession, and exhausted one after another, appears so evident a contradiction, that
    no man, one should think, whose judgement is not corrupted, instead of being
    improved, by the sciences, would ever be able to admit of it.</p>
    <p>Yet still reason must remain restless, and unquiet, even with regard to that
    scepticism, to which she is driven by these seeming absurdities and contradictions.
    How any clear, distinct idea can contain circumstances, contradictory to itself, or
    to any other clear, distinct idea, is absolutely incomprehensible; and is, perhaps,
    as absurd as any proposition, which can be formed. So that nothing can be more
    sceptical, or more full of doubt and hesitation, than this scepticism itself, which
    arises from some of the paradoxical conclusions of geometry or the science of
    quantity.<a id="footnotetag33" name="footnotetag33"></a><a
    href="#footnote33"><sup>33</sup></a></p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum126"
    name="mnum126">126.</a></span></span> The sceptical objections to <i>moral</i>
    evidence, or to the reasonings concerning matter of fact, are either <i>popular</i>
    or <i>philosophical</i>. The popular objections are derived from the natural weakness
    of human understanding; the contradictory opinions, which have been entertained in
    different ages and nations; the variations of our judgement in sickness and health,
    youth and old age, prosperity and adversity; the perpetual contradiction of each
    particular man's opinions and sentiments; with many other topics of that kind. It is
    needless to insist farther on this head. These objections are but weak. For as, in
    common life, we reason every moment concerning fact and existence, and cannot
    possibly subsist, without continually employing this species of argument, any popular
    objections, derived from thence, must be insufficient to destroy that evidence. The
    great subverter of <i>Pyrrhonism</i> or the excessive principles of scepticism is
    action, and employment, and the occupations of common life. These principles may
    flourish and triumph in the schools; where it is, indeed, difficult, if not
    impossible, to refute them. But as soon as they leave the shade, and by the presence
    of the real objects, which actuate our passions and sentiments, are put in opposition
    to the more powerful principles of our nature, they vanish like smoke, and leave the
    most determined sceptic in the same condition as other mortals.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum127"
    name="mnum127">127.</a></span></span> The sceptic, therefore, had better keep within
    his proper sphere, and display those <i>philosophical</i> objections, which arise
    from more profound researches. Here he seems to have ample matter of triumph; while
    he justly insists, that all our evidence for any matter of fact, which lies beyond
    the testimony of sense or memory, is derived entirely from the relation of cause and
    effect; that we have no other idea of this relation than that of two objects, which
    have been frequently <i>conjoined</i> together; that we have no argument to convince
    us, that objects, which have, in our experience, been frequently conjoined, will
    likewise, in other instances, be conjoined in the same manner; and that nothing leads
    us to this inference but custom or a certain instinct of our nature; which it is
    indeed difficult to resist, but which, like other instincts, may be fallacious and
    deceitful. While the sceptic insists upon these topics, he shows his force, or
    rather, indeed, his own and our weakness; and seems, for the time at least, to
    destroy all assurance and conviction. These arguments might be displayed at greater
    length, if any durable good or benefit to society could ever be expected to result
    from them.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum128"
    name="mnum128">128.</a></span></span> For here is the chief and most confounding
    objection to <i>excessive</i> scepticism, that no durable good can ever result from
    it; while it remains in its full force and vigour. We need only ask such a sceptic,
    <i>What his meaning is? And what he proposes by all these curious researches?</i> He
    is immediately at a loss, and knows not what to answer. A Copernican or Ptolemaic,
    who supports each his different system of astronomy, may hope to produce a
    conviction, which will remain constant and durable, with his audience. A Stoic or
    Epicurean displays principles, which may not be durable, but which have an effect on
    conduct and behaviour. But a Pyrrhonian cannot expect, that his philosophy will have
    any constant influence on the mind: or if it had, that its influence would be
    beneficial to society. On the contrary, he must acknowledge, if he will acknowledge
    anything, that all human life must perish, were his principles universally and
    steadily to prevail. All discourse, all action would immediately cease; and men
    remain in a total lethargy, till the necessities of nature, unsatisfied, put an end
    to their miserable existence. It is true; so fatal an event is very little to be
    dreaded. Nature is always too strong for principle. And though a Pyrrhonian may throw
    himself or others into a momentary amazement and confusion by his profound
    reasonings; the first and most trivial event in life will put to flight all his doubts
    and scruples, and leave him the same, in every point of action and speculation, with
    the philosophers of every other sect, or with those who never concerned themselves in
    any philosophical researches. When he awakes from his dream, he will be the first to
    join in the laugh against himself, and to confess, that all his objections are mere
    amusement, and can have no other tendency than to show the whimsical condition of
    mankind, who must act and reason and believe; though they are not able, by their most
    diligent enquiry, to satisfy themselves concerning the foundation of these
    operations, or to remove the objections, which may be raised against them.</p>
    <h4>PART III.</h4>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum129"
    name="mnum129">129.</a></span></span> There is, indeed, a more <i>mitigated</i>
    scepticism or <i>academical</i> philosophy, which may be both durable and useful, and
    which may, in part, be the result of this Pyrrhonism, or <i>excessive</i> scepticism,
    when its undistinguished doubts are, in some measure, corrected by common sense and
    reflection. The greater part of mankind are naturally apt to be affirmative and
    dogmatical in their opinions; and while they see objects only on one side, and have
    no idea of any counterpoising argument, they throw themselves precipitately into the
    principles, to which they are inclined; nor have they any indulgence for those who
    entertain opposite sentiments. To hesitate or balance perplexes their understanding,
    checks their passion, and suspends their action. They are, therefore, impatient till
    they escape from a state, which to them is so uneasy: and they think, that they could
    never remove themselves far enough from it, by the violence of their affirmations and
    obstinacy of their belief. But could such dogmatical reasoners become sensible of the
    strange infirmities of human understanding, even in its most perfect state, and when
    most accurate and cautious in its determinations; such a reflection would naturally
    inspire them with more modesty and reserve, and diminish their fond opinion of
    themselves, and their prejudice against antagonists. The illiterate may reflect on
    the disposition of the learned, who, amidst all the advantages of study and
    reflection, are commonly still diffident in their determinations: and if any of the
    learned be inclined, from their natural temper, to haughtiness and obstinacy, a small
    tincture of Pyrrhonism might abate their pride, by showing them, that the few
    advantages, which they may have attained over their fellows, are but inconsiderable,
    if compared with the universal perplexity and confusion, which is inherent in human
    nature. In general, there is a degree of doubt, and caution, and modesty, which, in
    all kinds of scrutiny and decision, ought for ever to accompany a just reasoner.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum130"
    name="mnum130">130.</a></span></span> Another species of <i>mitigated</i> scepticism
    which may be of advantage to mankind, and which may be the natural result of the
    Pyrrhonian doubts and scruples, is the limitation of our enquiries to such subjects
    as are best adapted to the narrow capacity of human understanding. The
    <i>imagination</i> of man is naturally sublime, delighted with whatever is remote and
    extraordinary, and running, without control, into the most distant parts of space and
    time in order to avoid the objects, which custom has rendered too familiar to it. A
    correct <i>Judgement</i> observes a contrary method, and avoiding all distant and
    high enquiries, confines itself to common life, and to such subjects as fall under
    daily practice and experience; leaving the more sublime topics to the embellishment
    of poets and orators, or to the arts of priests and politicians. To bring us to so
    salutary a determination, nothing can be more serviceable, than to be once thoroughly
    convinced of the force of the Pyrrhonian doubt, and of the impossibility, that
    anything, but the strong power of natural instinct, could free us from it. Those who
    have a propensity to philosophy, will still continue their researches; because they
    reflect, that, besides the immediate pleasure, attending such an occupation,
    philosophical decisions are nothing but the reflections of common life, methodized
    and corrected. But they will never be tempted to go beyond common life, so long as
    they consider the imperfection of those faculties which they employ, their narrow
    reach, and their inaccurate operations. While we cannot give a satisfactory reason,
    why we believe, after a thousand experiments, that a stone will fall, or fire burn;
    can we ever satisfy ourselves concerning any determination, which we may form, with
    regard to the origin of worlds, and the situation of nature, from, and to
    eternity?</p>
    <p>This narrow limitation, indeed, of our enquiries, is, in every respect, so
    reasonable, that it suffices to make the slightest examination into the natural
    powers of the human mind and to compare them with their objects, in order to
    recommend it to us. We shall then find what are the proper subjects of science and
    enquiry.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum131"
    name="mnum131">131.</a></span></span> It seems to me, that the only objects of the
    abstract science or of demonstration are quantity and number, and that all attempts
    to extend this more perfect species of knowledge beyond these bounds are mere
    sophistry and illusion. As the component parts of quantity and number are entirely
    similar, their relations become intricate and involved; and nothing can be more
    curious, as well as useful, than to trace, by a variety of mediums, their equality or
    inequality, through their different appearances. But as all other ideas are clearly
    distinct and different from each other, we can never advance farther, by our utmost
    scrutiny, than to observe this diversity, and, by an obvious reflection, pronounce
    one thing not to be another. Or if there be any difficulty in these decisions, it
    proceeds entirely from the undeterminate meaning of words, which is corrected by
    juster definitions. That <i>the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of
    the other two sides</i>, cannot be known, let the terms be ever so exactly defined,
    without a train of reasoning and enquiry. But to convince us of this proposition,
    <i>that where there is no property, there can be no injustice</i>, it is only
    necessary to define the terms, and explain injustice to be a violation of property.
    This proposition is, indeed, nothing but a more imperfect definition. It is the same
    case with all those pretended syllogistical reasonings, which may be found in every
    other branch of learning, except the sciences of quantity and number; and these may
    safely, I think, be pronounced the only proper objects of knowledge and
    demonstration.</p>
    <p><span class="mnumtag"><span class="mnum"><a id="mnum132"
    name="mnum132">132.</a></span></span> All other enquiries of men regard only matter
    of fact and existence; and these are evidently incapable of demonstration. Whatever
    <i>is</i> may <i>not be</i>. No negation of a fact can involve a contradiction. The
    non-existence of any being, without exception, is as clear and distinct an idea as
    its existence. The proposition, which affirms it not to be, however false, is no less
    conceivable and intelligible, than that which affirms it to be. The case is different
    with the sciences, properly so called. Every proposition, which is not true, is there
    confused and unintelligible. That the cube root of 64 is equal to the half of 10, is
    a false proposition, and can never be distinctly conceived. But that Caesar, or the
    angel Gabriel, or any being never existed, may be a false proposition, but still is
    perfectly conceivable, and implies no contradiction.</p>
    <p>The existence, therefore, of any being can only be proved by arguments from its
    cause or its effect; and these arguments are founded entirely on experience. If we
    reason <i>a priori</i>, anything may appear able to produce anything. The falling of
    a pebble may, for aught we know, extinguish the sun; or the wish of a man control the
    planets in their orbits. It is only experience, which teaches us the nature and
    bounds of cause and effect, and enables us to infer the existence of one object from
    that of another<a id="footnotetag34" name="footnotetag34"></a><a
    href="#footnote34"><sup>34</sup></a>. Such is the foundation of moral reasoning,
    which forms the greater part of human knowledge, and is the source of all human
    action and behaviour.</p>
    <p>Moral reasonings are either concerning particular or general facts. All
    deliberations in life regard the former; as also all disquisitions in history,
    chronology, geography, and astronomy.</p>
    <p>The sciences, which treat of general facts, are politics, natural philosophy,
    physic, chemistry, &amp;c. where the qualities, causes and effects of a whole species
    of objects are enquired into.</p>
    <p>Divinity or Theology, as it proves the existence of a Deity, and the immortality
    of souls, is composed partly of reasonings concerning particular, partly concerning
    general facts. It has a foundation in <i>reason</i>, so far as it is supported by
    experience. But its best and most solid foundation is <i>faith</i> and divine
    revelation.</p>
    <p>Morals and criticism are not so properly objects of the understanding as of taste
    and sentiment. Beauty, whether moral or natural, is felt, more properly than
    perceived. Or if we reason concerning it, and endeavour to fix its standard, we
    regard a new fact, to wit, the general tastes of mankind, or some such fact, which
    may be the object of reasoning and enquiry.</p>
    <p>When we run over libraries, persuaded of these principles, what havoc must we
    make? If we take in our hand any volume; of divinity or school metaphysics, for
    instance; let us ask, <i>Does it contain any abstract reasoning concerning quantity
    or number?</i> No. <i>Does it contain any experimental reasoning concerning matter of
    fact and existence?</i> No. Commit it then to the flames: for it can contain nothing
    but sophistry and illusion.</p>
    <!-- Footnotes -->
    <hr class="full" />
    <h2><a id="footnotes" name="footnotes">FOOTNOTES.</a></h2>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote1" name="footnote1"></a> <b>Footnote 1</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag1">(return)</a>
      <p>It is probable that no more was meant by those, who denied innate ideas, than
      that all ideas were copies of our impressions; though it must be confessed, that
      the terms, which they employed, were not chosen with such caution, nor so exactly
      defined, as to prevent all mistakes about their doctrine. For what is meant by
      <i>innate</i>? If innate be equivalent to natural, then all the perceptions and
      ideas of the mind must be allowed to be innate or natural, in whatever sense we
      take the latter word, whether in opposition to what is uncommon, artificial, or
      miraculous. If by innate be meant, contemporary to our birth, the dispute seems to
      be frivolous; nor is it worth while to enquire at what time thinking begins,
      whether before, at, or after our birth. Again, the word <i>idea</i>, seems to be
      commonly taken in a very loose sense, by LOCKE and others; as standing for any of
      our perceptions, our sensations and passions, as well as thoughts. Now in this
      sense, I should desire to know, what can be meant by asserting, that self-love, or
      resentment of injuries, or the passion between the sexes is not innate?</p>
      <p>But admitting these terms, <i>impressions</i> and <i>ideas</i>, in the sense
      above explained, and understanding by <i>innate</i>, what is original or copied
      from no precedent perception, then may we assert that all our impressions are
      innate, and our ideas not innate.</p>
      <p>To be ingenuous, I must own it to be my opinion, that LOCKE was betrayed into
      this question by the schoolmen, who, making use of undefined terms, draw out their
      disputes to a tedious length, without ever touching the point in question. A like
      ambiguity and circumlocution seem to run through that philosopher's reasonings on
      this as well as most other subjects.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote2" name="footnote2"></a> <b>Footnote 2</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag2">(return)</a>
      <p>Resemblance.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote3" name="footnote3"></a> <b>Footnote 3</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag3">(return)</a>
      <p>Contiguity.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote4" name="footnote4"></a> <b>Footnote 4</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag4">(return)</a>
      <p>Cause and effect.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote5" name="footnote5"></a> <b>Footnote 5</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag5">(return)</a>
      <p>For instance, Contrast or Contrariety is also a connexion among Ideas: but it
      may, perhaps, be considered as a mixture of <i>Causation</i> and
      <i>Resemblance</i>. Where two objects are contrary, the one destroys the other;
      that is, the cause of its annihilation, and the idea of the annihilation of an
      object, implies the idea of its former existence.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote6" name="footnote6"></a> <b>Footnote 6</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag6">(return)</a>
      <p>The word, Power, is here used in a loose and popular sense. The more accurate
      explication of it would give additional evidence to this argument. See Sect. 7.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote7" name="footnote7"></a> <b>Footnote 7</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag7">(return)</a>
      <p>Nothing is more useful than for writers, even, on <i>moral</i>,
      <i>political</i>, or <i>physical</i> subjects, to distinguish between <i>reason</i>
      and <i>experience</i>, and to suppose, that these species of argumentation are
      entirely different from each other. The former are taken for the mere result of our
      intellectual faculties, which, by considering <i>  priori</i> the nature of
      things, and examining the effects, that must follow from their operation, establish
      particular principles of science and philosophy. The latter are supposed to be
      derived entirely from sense and observation, by which we learn what has actually
      resulted from the operation of particular objects, and are thence able to infer,
      what will, for the future, result from them. Thus, for instance, the limitations
      and restraints of civil government, and a legal constitution, may be defended,
      either from <i>reason</i>, which reflecting on the great frailty and corruption of
      human nature, teaches, that no man can safely be trusted with unlimited authority;
      or from <i>experience</i> and history, which inform us of the enormous abuses, that
      ambition, in every age and country, has been found to make of so imprudent a
      confidence.</p>
      <p>The same distinction between reason and experience is maintained in all our
      deliberations concerning the conduct of life; while the experienced statesman,
      general, physician, or merchant is trusted and followed; and the unpractised
      novice, with whatever natural talents endowed, neglected and despised. Though it be
      allowed, that reason may form very plausible conjectures with regard to the
      consequences of such a particular conduct in such particular circumstances; it is
      still supposed imperfect, without the assistance of experience, which is alone able
      to give stability and certainty to the maxims, derived from study and
      reflection.</p>
      <p>But notwithstanding that this distinction be thus universally received, both in
      the active speculative scenes of life, I shall not scruple to pronounce, that it
      is, at bottom, erroneous, at least, superficial.</p>
      <p>If we examine those arguments, which, in any of the sciences above mentioned,
      are supposed to be the mere effects of reasoning and reflection, they will be found
      to terminate, at last, in some general principle or conclusion, for which we can
      assign no reason but observation and experience. The only difference between them
      and those maxims, which are vulgarly esteemed the result of pure experience, is,
      that the former cannot be established without some process of thought, and some
      reflection on what we have observed, in order to distinguish its circumstances, and
      trace its consequences: Whereas in the latter, the experienced event is exactly and
      fully familiar to that which we infer as the result of any particular situation.
      The history of a TIBERIUS or a NERO makes us dread a like tyranny, were our
      monarchs freed from the restraints of laws and senates: But the observation of any
      fraud or cruelty in private life is sufficient, with the aid of a little thought,
      to give us the same apprehension; while it serves as an instance of the general
      corruption of human nature, and shows us the danger which we must incur by reposing
      an entire confidence in mankind. In both cases, it is experience which is
      ultimately the foundation of our inference and conclusion.</p>
      <p>There is no man so young and unexperienced, as not to have formed, from
      observation, many general and just maxims concerning human affairs and the conduct
      of life; but it must be confessed, that, when a man comes to put these in practice,
      he will be extremely liable to error, till time and farther experience both enlarge
      these maxims, and teach him their proper use and application. In every situation or
      incident, there are many particular and seemingly minute circumstances, which the
      man of greatest talent is, at first, apt to overlook, though on them the justness
      of his conclusions, and consequently the prudence of his conduct, entirely depend.
      Not to mention, that, to a young beginner, the general observations and maxims
      occur not always on the proper occasions, nor can be immediately applied with due
      calmness and distinction. The truth is, an unexperienced reasoner could be no
      reasoner at all, were he absolutely unexperienced; and when we assign that
      character to any one, we mean it only in a comparative sense, and suppose him
      possessed of experience, in a smaller and more imperfect degree.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote8" name="footnote8"></a> <b>Footnote 8</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag8">(return)</a>
      <p>'Naturane nobis, inquit, datum dicam, an errore quodam, ut, cum ea loca
      videamus, in quibus memoria dignos viros acceperimus multum esse versatos, magis
      moveamur, quam siquando eorum ipsorum aut facta audiamus aut scriptum aliquod
      legamus? Velut ego nunc moveor. Venit enim mihi Plato in mentem, quera accepimus
      primum hic disputare solitum: cuius etiam illi hortuli propinqui non memoriam solum
      mihi afferunt, sed ipsum videntur in conspectu meo hic ponere. Hic Speusippus, hic
      Xenocrates, hic eius auditor Polemo; cuius ipsa illa sessio fuit, quam videmus.
      Equidem etiam curiam nostram, Hostiliam dico, non hanc novam, quae mihi minor esse
      videtur postquam est maior, solebam intuens, Scipionem, Catonem, Laelium, nostrum
      vero in primis avum cogitare. Tanta vis admonitionis est in locis; ut non sine
      causa ex his memoriae deducta sit disciplina.'</p>
      <p><i>Cicero de Finibus</i>. Lib. v.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote9" name="footnote9"></a> <b>Footnote 9</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag9">(return)</a>
      <p>Mr. Locke divides all arguments into demonstrative and probable. In this view,
      we must say, that it is only probable all men must die, or that the sun will rise
      to-morrow. But to conform our language more to common use, we ought to divide
      arguments into <i>demonstrations</i>, <i>proofs</i>, and <i>probabilities</i>. By
      proofs meaning such arguments from experience as leave no room for doubt or
      opposition.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote10" name="footnote10"></a> <b>Footnote 10</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag10">(return)</a>
      <p><a href="#section2">Section II.</a></p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote11" name="footnote11"></a> <b>Footnote 11</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag11">(return)</a>
      <p>Mr. Locke, in his chapter of power, says that, finding from experience, that
      there are several new productions in nature, and concluding that there must
      somewhere be a power capable of producing them, we arrive at last by this reasoning
      at the idea of power. But no reasoning can ever give us a new, original, simple
      idea; as this philosopher himself confesses. This, therefore, can never be the
      origin of that idea.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote12" name="footnote12"></a> <b>Footnote 12</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag12">(return)</a>
      <p>It may be pretended, that the resistance which we meet with in bodies, obliging
      us frequently to exert our force, and call up all our power, this gives us the idea
      of force and power. It is this <i>nisus</i>, or strong endeavour, of which we are
      conscious, that is the original impression from which this idea is copied. But,
      first, we attribute power to a vast number of objects, where we never can suppose
      this resistance or exertion of force to take place; to the Supreme Being, who never
      meets with any resistance; to the mind in its command over its ideas and limbs, in
      common thinking and motion, where the effect follows immediately upon the will,
      without any exertion or summoning up of force; to inanimate matter, which is not
      capable of this sentiment. <i>Secondly,</i> This sentiment of an endeavour to
      overcome resistance has no known connexion with any event: What follows it, we know
      by experience; but could not know it <i>  priori.</i> It must, however, be
      confessed, that the animal <i>nisus,</i> which we experience, though it can afford
      no accurate precise idea of power, enters very much into that vulgar, inaccurate
      idea, which is formed of it.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote13" name="footnote13"></a> <b>Footnote 13</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag13">(return)</a>
      <p>[Greek: theos apo maechanaes.]</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote14" name="footnote14"></a> <b>Footnote 14</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag14">(return)</a>
      <p><a href="#section12">Section XII.</a></p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote15" name="footnote15"></a> <b>Footnote 15</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag15">(return)</a>
      <p>I need not examine at length the <i>vis inertiae</i> which is so much talked of
      in the new philosophy, and which is ascribed to matter. We find by experience, that
      a body at rest or in motion continues for ever in its present state, till put from
      it by some new cause; and that a body impelled takes as much motion from the
      impelling body as it acquires itself. These are facts. When we call this a <i>vis
      inertiae</i>, we only mark these facts, without pretending to have any idea of the
      inert power; in the same manner as, when we talk of gravity, we mean certain
      effects, without comprehending that active power. It was never the meaning of Sir
      ISAAC NEWTON to rob second causes of all force or energy; though some of his
      followers have endeavoured to establish that theory upon his authority. On the
      contrary, that great philosopher had recourse to an etherial active fluid to
      explain his universal attraction; though he was so cautious and modest as to allow,
      that it was a mere hypothesis, not to be insisted on, without more experiments. I
      must confess, that there is something in the fate of opinions a little
      extraordinary. DES CARTES insinuated that doctrine of the universal and sole
      efficacy of the Deity, without insisting on it. MALEBRANCHE and other CARTESIANS
      made it the foundation of all their philosophy. It had, however, no authority in
      England. LOCKE, CLARKE, and CUDWORTH, never so much as take notice of it, but
      suppose all along, that matter has a real, though subordinate and derived power. By
      what means has it become so prevalent among our modern metaphysicians?</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote16" name="footnote16"></a> <b>Footnote 16</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag16">(return)</a>
      <p>According to these explications and definitions, the idea of <i>power</i> is
      relative as much as that of <i>cause;</i> and both have a reference to an effect,
      or some other event constantly conjoined with the former. When we consider the
      <i>unknown</i> circumstance of an object, by which the degree or quantity of its
      effect is fixed and determined, we call that its power: And accordingly, it is
      allowed by all philosophers, that the effect is the measure of the power. But if
      they had any idea of power, as it is in itself, why could not they Measure it in
      itself? The dispute whether the force of a body in motion be as its velocity, or
      the square of its velocity; this dispute, I say, need not be decided by comparing
      its effects in equal or unequal times; but by a direct mensuration and
      comparison.</p>
      <p>As to the frequent use of the words, Force, Power, Energy, &amp;c., which every
      where occur in common conversation, as well as in philosophy; that is no proof,
      that we are acquainted, in any instance, with the connecting principle between
      cause and effect, or can account ultimately for the production of one thing to
      another. These words, as commonly used, have very loose meanings annexed to them;
      and their ideas are very uncertain and confused. No animal can put external bodies
      in motion without the sentiment of a <i>nisus</i> or endeavour; and every animal
      has a sentiment or feeling from the stroke or blow of an external object, that is
      in motion. These sensations, which are merely animal, and from which we can
      <i>  priori</i> draw no inference, we are apt to transfer to inanimate
      objects, and to suppose, that they have some such feelings, whenever they transfer
      or receive motion. With regard to energies, which are exerted, without our annexing
      to them any idea of communicated motion, we consider only the constant experienced
      conjunction of the events; and as we <i>feel</i> a customary connexion between the
      ideas, we transfer that feeling to the objects; as nothing is more usual than to
      apply to external bodies every internal sensation, which they occasion.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote17" name="footnote17"></a> <b>Footnote 17</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag17">(return)</a>
      <p>The prevalence of the doctrine of liberty may be accounted for, from another
      cause, viz. a false sensation or seeming experience which we have, or may have, of
      liberty or indifference, in many of our actions. The necessity of any action,
      whether of matter or of mind, is not, properly speaking, a quality in the agent,
      but in any thinking or intelligent being, who may consider the action; and it
      consists chiefly in the determination of his thoughts to infer the existence of
      that action from some preceding objects; as liberty, when opposed to necessity, is
      nothing but the want of that determination, and a certain looseness or
      indifference, which we feel, in passing, or not passing, from the idea of one
      object to that of any succeeding one. Now we may observe, that, though, in
      <i>reflecting</i> on human actions, we seldom feel such a looseness, or
      indifference, but are commonly able to infer them with considerable certainty from
      their motives, and from the dispositions of the agent; yet it frequently happens,
      that, in <i>performing</i> the actions themselves, we are sensible of something
      like it: And as all resembling objects are readily taken for each other, this has
      been employed as a demonstrative and even intuitive proof of human liberty. We
      feel, that our actions are subject to our will, on most occasions; and imagine we
      feel, that the will itself is subject to nothing, because, when by a denial of it
      we are provoked to try, we feel, that it moves easily every way, and produces an
      image of itself (or a <i>Velleïty,</i> as it is called in the schools) even on
      that side, on which it did not settle. This image, or faint motion, we persuade
      ourselves, could, at that time, have been compleated into the thing itself;
      because, should that be denied, we find, upon a second trial, that, at present, it
      can. We consider not, that the fantastical desire of shewing liberty, is here the
      motive of our actions. And it seems certain, that, however we may imagine we feel a
      liberty within ourselves, a spectator can commonly infer our actions from our
      motives and character; and even where he cannot, he concludes in general, that he
      might, were he perfectly acquainted with every circumstance of our situation and
      temper, and the most secret springs of our complexion and disposition. Now this is
      the very essence of necessity, according to the foregoing doctrine.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote18" name="footnote18"></a> <b>Footnote 18</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag18">(return)</a>
      <p>Thus, if a cause be defined, <i>that which produces any thing;</i> it is easy to
      observe, that <i>producing</i> is synonymous to <i>causing.</i> In like manner, if
      a cause be defined, <i>that by which any thing exists;</i> this is liable to the
      same objection. For what is meant by these words, <i>by which?</i> Had it been
      said, that a cause is <i>that</i> after which <i>any thing constantly exists;</i>
      we should have understood the terms. For this is, indeed, all we know of the
      matter. And this constancy forms the very essence of necessity, nor have we any
      other idea of it.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote19" name="footnote19"></a> <b>Footnote 19</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag19">(return)</a>
      <p>Since all reasonings concerning facts or causes is derived merely from custom,
      it may be asked how it happens, that men so much surpass animals in reasoning, and
      one man so much surpasses another? Has not the same custom the same influence on
      all?</p>
      <p>We shall here endeavour briefly to explain the great difference in human
      understandings: After which the reason of the difference between men and animals
      will easily be comprehended.</p>
      <p>1. When we have lived any time, and have been accustomed to the uniformity of
      nature, we acquire a general habit, by which we always transfer the known to the
      unknown, and conceive the latter to resemble the former. By means of this general
      habitual principle, we regard even one experiment as the foundation of reasoning,
      and expect a similar event with some degree of certainty, where the experiment has
      been made accurately, and free from all foreign circumstances. It is therefore
      considered as a matter of great importance to observe the consequences of things;
      and as one man may very much surpass another in attention and memory and
      observation, this will make a very great difference in their reasoning.</p>
      <p>2. Where there is a complication of causes to produce any effect, one mind may
      be much larger than another, and better able to comprehend the whole system of
      objects, and to infer justly their consequences.</p>
      <p>3. One man is able to carry on a chain of consequences to a greater length than
      another.</p>
      <p>4. Few men can think long without running into a confusion of ideas, and
      mistaking one for another; and there are various degrees of this infirmity.</p>
      <p>5. The circumstance, on which the effect depends, is frequently involved in
      other circumstances, which are foreign and extrinsic. The separation of it often
      requires great attention, accuracy, and subtilty.</p>
      <p>6. The forming of general maxims from particular observation is a very nice
      operation; and nothing is more usual, from haste or a narrowness of mind, which
      sees not on all sides, than to commit mistakes in this particular.</p>
      <p>7. When we reason from analogies, the man, who has the greater experience or the
      greater promptitude of suggesting analogies, will be the better reasoner.</p>
      <p>8. Byasses from prejudice, education, passion, party, &amp;c. hang more upon one
      mind than another.</p>
      <p>9. After we have acquired a confidence in human testimony, books and
      conversation enlarge much more the sphere of one man's experience and thought than
      those of another.</p>
      <p>It would be easy to discover many other circumstances that make a difference in
      the understandings of men.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote20" name="footnote20"></a> <b>Footnote 20</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag20">(return)</a>
      <p>Plutarch, in vita Catonis.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote21" name="footnote21"></a> <b>Footnote 21</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag21">(return)</a>
      <p>No Indian, it is evident, could have experience that water did not freeze in
      cold climates. This is placing nature in a situation quite unknown to him; and it
      is impossible for him to tell <i>a priori</i> what will result from it. It is
      making a new experiment, the consequence of which is always uncertain. One may
      sometimes conjecture from analogy what will follow; but still this is but
      conjecture. And it must be confessed, that, in the present case of freezing, the
      event follows contrary to the rules of analogy, and is such as a rational Indian
      would not look for. The operations of cold upon water are not gradual, according to
      the degrees of cold; but whenever it comes to the freezing point, the water passes
      in a moment, from the utmost liquidity to perfect hardness. Such an event,
      therefore, may be denominated <i>extraordinary</i>, and requires a pretty strong
      testimony, to render it credible to people in a warm climate: But still it is not
      <i>miraculous</i>, nor contrary to uniform experience of the course of nature in
      cases where all the circumstances are the same. The inhabitants of Sumatra have
      always seen water fluid in their own climate, and the freezing of their rivers
      ought to be deemed a prodigy: But they never saw water in Muscovy during the
      winter; and therefore they cannot reasonably be positive what would there be the
      consequence.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote22" name="footnote22"></a> <b>Footnote 22</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag22">(return)</a>
      <p>Sometimes an event may not, <i>in itself</i>, seem to be contrary to the laws of
      nature, and yet, if it were real, it might, by reason of some circumstances, be
      denominated a miracle; because, in <i>fact</i>, it is contrary to these laws. Thus
      if a person, claiming a divine authority, should command a sick person to be well,
      a healthful man to fall down dead, the clouds to pour rain, the winds to blow, in
      short, should order many natural events, which immediately follow upon his command;
      these might justly be esteemed miracles, because they are really, in this case,
      contrary to the laws of nature. For if any suspicion remain, that the event and
      command concurred by accident, there is no miracle and no transgression of the laws
      of nature. If this suspicion be removed, there is evidently a miracle, and a
      transgression of these laws; because nothing can be more contrary to nature than
      that the voice or command of a man should have such an influence. A miracle may be
      accurately defined, <i>a transgression of a law of nature by a particular volition
      of the Deity, or by the interposition of some invisible agent</i>. A miracle may
      either be discoverable by men or not. This alters not its nature and essence. The
      raising of a house or ship into the air is a visible miracle. The raising of a
      feather, when the wind wants ever so little of a force requisite for that purpose,
      is as real a miracle, though not so sensible with regard to us.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote23" name="footnote23"></a> <b>Footnote 23</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag23">(return)</a>
      <p>Hist. lib. iv. cap. 81. Suetonius gives nearly the same account <i>in vita</i>
      Vesp.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote24" name="footnote24"></a> <b>Footnote 24</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag24">(return)</a>
      <p>This book was writ by Mons. Montgeron, counsellor or judge of the parliament of
      Paris, a man of figure and character, who was also a martyr to the cause, and is
      now said to be somewhere in a dungeon on account of his book.</p>
      <p>There is another book in three volumes (called <i>Recueil des Miracles de
      l'Abb(c)</i> Paris) giving an account of many of these miracles, and
      accompanied with prefatory discourses, which are very well written. There runs,
      however, through the whole of these a ridiculous comparison between the miracles of
      our Saviour and those of the Abbh(c); wherein it is asserted, that the evidence
      for the latter is equal to that for the former: As if the testimony of men could
      ever be put in the balance with that of God himself, who conducted the pen of the
      inspired writers. If these writers, indeed, were to be considered merely as human
      testimony, the French author is very moderate in his comparison; since he might,
      with some appearance of reason, pretend, that the Jansenist miracles much surpass
      the other in evidence and authority. The following circumstances are drawn from
      authentic papers, inserted in the above-mentioned book.</p>
      <p>Many of the miracles of Abb(c) Paris were proved immediately by witnesses
      before the officiality or bishop's court at Paris, under the eye of cardinal
      Noailles, whose character for integrity and capacity was never contested even by
      his enemies.</p>
      <p>His successor in the archbishopric was an enemy to the Jansenists, and for that
      reason promoted to the see by the court. Yet 22 rectors or curu(c)s of Paris,
      with infinite earnestness, press him to examine those miracles, which they assert
      to be known to the whole world, and undisputably certain: But he wisely
      forbore.</p>
      <p>The Molinist party had tried to discredit these miracles in one instance, that
      of Mademoiselle le Franc. But, besides that their proceedings were in many respects
      the most irregular in the world, particularly in citing only a few of the Jansenist
      witnesses, whom they tampered with: Besides this, I say, they soon found themselves
      overwhelmed by a cloud of new witnesses, one hundred and twenty in number, most of
      them persons of credit and substance in Paris, who gave oath for the miracle. This
      was accompanied with a solemn and earnest appeal to the parliament. But the
      parliament were forbidden by authority to meddle in the affair. It was at last
      observed, that where men are heated by zeal and enthusiasm, there is no degree of
      human testimony so strong as may not be procured for the greatest absurdity: And
      those who will be so silly as to examine the affair by that medium, and seek
      particular flaws in the testimony, are almost sure to be confounded. It must be a
      miserable imposture, indeed, that does not prevail in that contest.</p>
      <p>All who have been in France about that time have heard of the reputation of
      Mons. Heraut, the <i>lieutenant de Police</i>, whose vigilance, penetration,
      activity, and extensive intelligence have been much talked of. This magistrate, who
      by the nature of his office is almost absolute, was vested with full powers, on
      purpose to suppress or discredit these miracles; and he frequently seized
      immediately, and examined the witnesses and subjects of them: But never could reach
      any thing satisfactory against them.</p>
      <p>In the case of Mademoiselle Thibaut he sent the famous De Sylva to examine her;
      whose evidence is very curious. The physician declares, that it was impossible she
      could have been so ill as was proved by witnesses; because it was impossible she
      could, in so short a time, have recovered so perfectly as he found her. He
      reasoned, like a man of sense, from natural causes; but the opposite party told
      him, that the whole was a miracle, and that his evidence was the very best proof of
      it.</p>
      <p>The Molinists were in a sad dilemma. They durst not assert the absolute
      insufficiency of human evidence, to prove a miracle. They were obliged to say, that
      these miracles were wrought by witchcraft and the devil. But they were told, that
      this was the resource of the Jews of old.</p>
      <p>No Jansenist was ever embarrassed to account for the cessation of the miracles,
      when the church-yard was shut up by the king's edict. It was the touch of the tomb,
      which produced these extraordinary effects; and when no one could approach the
      tomb, no effects could be expected. God, indeed, could have thrown down the walls
      in a moment; but he is master of his own graces and works, and it belongs not to us
      to account for them. He did not throw down the walls of every city like those of
      Jericho, on the sounding of the rams horns, nor break up the prison of every
      apostle, like that of St. Paul.</p>
      <p>No less a man, than the Due de Chatillon, a duke and peer of France, of the
      highest rank and family, gives evidence of a miraculous cure, performed upon a
      servant of his, who had lived several years in his house with a visible and
      palpable infirmity. I shall conclude with observing, that no clergy are more
      celebrated for strictness of life and manners than the secular clergy of France,
      particularly the rectors or cur(c)s of Paris, who bear testimony to these
      impostures. The learning, genius, and probity of the gentlemen, and the austerity
      of the nuns of Port-Royal, have been much celebrated all over Europe. Yet they all
      give evidence for a miracle, wrought on the niece of the famous Pascal, whose
      sanctity of life, as well as extraordinary capacity, is well known. The famous
      Racine gives an account of this miracle in his famous history of Port-Royal, and
      fortifies it with all the proofs, which a multitude of nuns, priests, physicians,
      and men of the world, all of them of undoubted credit, could bestow upon it.
      Several men of letters, particularly the bishop of Tournay, thought this miracle so
      certain, as to employ it in the refutation of atheists and free-thinkers. The
      queen-regent of France, who was extremely prejudiced against the Port-Royal, sent
      her own physician to examine the miracle, who returned an absolute convert. In
      short, the supernatural cure was so uncontestable, that it saved, for a time, that
      famous monastery from the ruin with which it was threatened by the Jesuits. Had it
      been a cheat, it had certainly been detected by such sagacious and powerful
      antagonists, and must have hastened the ruin of the contrivers. Our divines, who
      can build up a formidable castle from such despicable materials; what a prodigious
      fabric could they have reared from these and many other circumstances, which I have
      not mentioned! How often would the great names of Pascal, Racine, Amaud, Nicole,
      have resounded in our ears? But if they be wise, they had better adopt the miracle,
      as being more worth, a thousand times, than all the rest of the collection.
      Besides, it may serve very much to their purpose. For that miracle was really
      performed by the touch of an authentic holy prickle of the holy thorn, which
      composed the holy crown, which, &amp;c.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote25" name="footnote25"></a> <b>Footnote 25</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag25">(return)</a>
      <p>Lucret.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote26" name="footnote26"></a> <b>Footnote 26</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag26">(return)</a>
      <p>Nov. Org. lib. ii. aph. 29.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote27" name="footnote27"></a> <b>Footnote 27</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag27">(return)</a>
      <p>Luciani [Greek: symp. ae Lapithai].</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote28" name="footnote28"></a> <b>Footnote 28</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag28">(return)</a>
      <p>Luciani [Greek: eunouchos].</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote29" name="footnote29"></a> <b>Footnote 29</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag29">(return)</a>
      <p>Luciani and Dio.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote30" name="footnote30"></a> <b>Footnote 30</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag30">(return)</a>
      <p>In general, it may, I think, be established as a maxim, that where any cause is
      known only by its particular effects, it must be impossible to infer any new
      effects from that cause; since the qualities, which are requisite to produce these
      new effects along with the former, must either be different, or superior, or of
      more extensive operation, than those which simply produced the effect, whence alone
      the cause is supposed to be known to us. We can never, therefore, have any reason
      to suppose the existence of these qualities. To say, that the new effects proceed
      only from a continuation of the same energy, which is already known from the first
      effects, will not remove the difficulty. For even granting this to be the case
      (which can seldom be supposed), the very continuation and exertion of a like energy
      (for it is impossible it can be absolutely the same), I say, this exertion of a
      like energy, in a different period of space and time, is a very arbitrary
      supposition, and what there cannot possibly be any traces of in the effects, from
      which all our knowledge of the cause is originally derived. Let the <i>inferred</i>
      cause be exactly proportioned (as it should be) to the known effect; and it is
      impossible that it can possess any qualities, from which new or different effects
      can be <i>inferred</i>.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote31" name="footnote31"></a> <b>Footnote 31</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag31">(return)</a>
      <p>This argument is drawn from Dr. Berkeley; and indeed most of the writings of
      that very ingenious author form the best lessons of scepticism, which are to be
      found either among the ancient or modern philosopher, Bayle not excepted. He
      professes, however, in his title-page (and undoubtedly with great truth) to have
      composed his book against the sceptics as well as against the atheists and
      free-thinkers. But that all his arguments, though otherwise intended, are, in
      reality, merely sceptical, appears from this, <i>that they admit of no answer and
      produce no conviction.</i> Their only effect is to cause that momentary amazement
      and irresolution and confusion, which is the result of scepticism.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote32" name="footnote32"></a> <b>Footnote 32</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag32">(return)</a>
      <p>Whatever disputes there may be about mathematical points, we must allow that
      there are physical points; that is, parts of extension, which cannot be divided or
      lessened, either by the eye or imagination. These images, then, which are present
      to the fancy or senses, are absolutely indivisible, and consequently must be
      allowed by mathematicians to be infinitely less than any real part of extension;
      and yet nothing appears more certain to reason, than that an infinite number of
      them composes an infinite extension. How much more an infinite number of those
      infinitely small parts of extension, which are still supposed infinitely
      divisible.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote33" name="footnote33"></a> <b>Footnote 33</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag33">(return)</a>
      <p>It seems to me not impossible to avoid these absurdities and contradictions, if
      it be admitted, that there is no such thing as abstract or general ideas, properly
      speaking; but that all general ideas are, in reality, particular ones, attached to
      a general term, which recalls, upon occasion, other particular ones, that resemble,
      in certain circumstances, the idea, present to the mind. Thus when the term Horse
      is pronounced, we immediately figure to ourselves the idea of a black or a white
      animal, of a particular size or figure: But as that term is also usually applied to animals of other colours,

figures and sizes, these ideas, though not
      actually present to the imagination, are easily recalled; and our reasoning and
      conclusion proceed in the same way, as if they were actually present. If this be
      admitted (as seems reasonable) it follows that all the ideas of quantity, upon
      which mathematicians reason, are nothing but particular, and such as are suggested
      by the senses and imagination, and consequently, cannot be infinitely divisible. It
      is sufficient to have dropped this hint at present, without prosecuting it any
      farther. It certainly concerns all lovers of science not to expose themselves to
      the ridicule and contempt of the ignorant by their conclusions; and this seems the
      readiest solution of these difficulties.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <blockquote class="footnote">
      <a id="footnote34" name="footnote34"></a> <b>Footnote 34</b>: <a
      href="#footnotetag34">(return)</a>
      <p>That impious maxim of the ancient philosophy, <i>Ex nihilo, nihil fit</i>, by
      which the creation of matter was excluded, ceases to be a maxim, according to this
      philosophy. Not only the will of the supreme Being may create matter; but, for aught
      we know <i>a priori</i>, the will of any other being might create it, or any other
      cause, that the most whimsical imagination can assign.</p>
    </blockquote>
    <!-- End of Footnotes -->
    <hr class="full" />
    <h2><a id="index" name="index">INDEX.</a></h2>
    <!-- Start of Index -->

<blockquote class="index">
<h4>Abstraction</h4>
  not source of ideas of primary qualities, <a href="#mnum122">122</a>.<br />

<h4>Academic</h4>
  philosophy, <a href="#mnum34">34</a>.<br />

<h4>Action</h4>
  and philosophy, <a href="#mnum1">1</a>, <a href="#mnum4">4</a>, <a href="#mnum34">34</a>, <a href="#mnum128">128</a>;<br />

<h4>Addition</h4>
  <a href="#mnum4">4</a>.<br />

<h4>Analogy</h4>
  a species of, the foundation of all reasoning about matter of fact, <a href="#mnum82">82</a>;<br />

<h4>Animals</h4>
  the reason of, <a href="#mnum83">83</a>-85;<br />
  learn from experience and draw inferences, <a href="#mnum83">83</a>;<br />
  which can only be founded on custom, <a href="#mnum84">84</a>;<br />
  cause of difference between men and animals, <a href="#mnum84">84</a> n.<br />

<h4>Antiquity</h4>
  <a href="#mnum62">62</a>.<br />

<h4>Appearances</h4>
  to senses must be corrected by reason, <a href="#mnum117">117</a>.<br />

<h4>A priori</h4>
  <a href="#mnum25">25</a>, <a href="#mnum36">36</a> n, <a href="#mnum89">89</a> n, <a href="#mnum132">132</a>, <a href="#mnum132">132</a> n.<br />

<h4>Aristotle</h4>
  <a href="#mnum4">4</a>.<br />

<h4>Association</h4>
  of ideas, three principles of, <a href="#mnum18">18</a>-19, <a href="#mnum41">41</a>-44 (v. <i>Cause</i> C).<br />

<h4>Atheism</h4>
  <a href="#mnum116">116</a>.<br />

<h4>Bacon</h4>
  <a href="#mnum99">99</a>.<br />

<h4>Belief</h4>
  (v. <i>Cause</i> C, <a href="#mnum39">39</a>-45);<br />
  and chance, <a href="#mnum46">46</a>.<br />

<h4>Berkeley</h4>
  really a sceptic, <a href="#mnum122">122</a> n.<br />

<h4>Bigotry</h4>
  <a href="#mnum102">102</a>.<br />

<h4>Body</h4>
  and soul, mystery of union of, <a href="#mnum52">52</a>;<br />
  volition and movements of, <a href="#mnum52">52</a>.<br />
<br />
  Real existence of (v. <i>Scepticism</i>, B, <a href="#mnum118">118</a>-123).<br />

<h4>Cause</h4>
  first (v. <i>God</i>, <i>Necessity</i>, <a href="#mnum78">78</a>-81; <i>Providence</i>, <a href="#mnum102">102</a>-115, <a href="#mnum132">132</a> n).<br />
<br />
  a principle of association of ideas, <a href="#mnum19">19</a>, <a href="#mnum43">43</a>;<br />
  sole foundation of reasonings about matter of fact or real existence, <a href="#mnum22">22</a>.<br />
<br />
  A. <i>Knowledge of Causes arises from experience not from Reason</i>, <a href="#mnum23">23</a>-33.<br />
<br />
  Reasonings <i>a priori</i> give no knowledge of cause and effect, <a href="#mnum23">23</a> f.;<br />
  impossible to see the effect in the cause since they are totally different, <a href="#mnum25">25</a>;<br />
  natural philosophy never pretends to assign ultimate causes, but only to reduce causes to a few general causes, e.g. gravity, <a href="#mnum26">26</a>;<br />
  geometry applies laws obtained by experience, <a href="#mnum27">27/a>.<br />
<br />
  Conclusions from experience not based on any process of the understanding, <a href="#mnum28">28</a>;<br />
  yet we infer in the future a similar connexion between known qualities of things and their secret powers, to that which we assumed in the past. On what is this inference based? <a href="#mnum29">29</a>;<br />
  demonstrative reasoning has no place here, and all experimental reasoning assumes the resemblance of the future to the past, and so cannot prove it without being circular, <a href="#mnum30">30</a>, <a href="#mnum32">32</a>;<br />
  if reasoning were the basis of this belief, there would be no need for the multiplication of instances or of long experience, <a href="#mnum31">31</a>;<br />
  yet conclusions about matter of fact are affected by experience even in beasts and children, so that they cannot be founded on abstruse reasoning, <a href="#mnum33">33</a>;<br />
  to explain our inferences from experience a principle is required of equal weight and authority with reason, <a href="#mnum34">34</a>.<br />
<br />
  B. <i>Custom enables us to infer existence of one object from the appearance of another</i>, <a href="#mnum35">35</a>-38.<br />
<br />
  Experience enables us to ascribe a more than arbitrary connexion to objects, <a href="#mnum35">35</a>;<br />
  we are determined to this by custom or habit which is the great guide of human life, <a href="#mnum36">36</a>;<br />
  but our inference must be based on some fact present to the senses or memory, <a href="#mnum37">37</a>;<br />
  the customary conjunction between such an object and some other object produces an operation of the soul which is as unavoidable as love, <a href="#mnum38">38</a>;<br />
  animals also infer one event from another by custom, <a href="#mnum82">82</a>-84;<br />
  and in man as in animals experimental reasoning depends on a species of instinct or mechanical power that acts in us unknown to ourselves, <a href="#mnum85">85</a>.<br />
<br />
  C. <i>Belief</i>, <a href="#mnum39">39</a>-45.<br />
  Belief differs from fiction or the loose reveries of the fancy by some feeling annexed to it, <a href="#mnum39">39</a>;<br />
  belief cannot be defined, but may be described as a more lively, forcible, firm, steady conception of an object than can be attained by the imagination alone, <a href="#mnum40">40</a>;<br />
  it is produced by the principles of association, viz. resemblance, <a href="#mnum41">41</a>;<br />
  contiguity, <a href="#mnum42">42</a>;<br />
  causation, <a href="#mnum43">43</a>;<br />
  by a kind of pre-established harmony between the course of nature and our ideas, <a href="#mnum44">44</a>;<br />
  this operation of our minds necessary to our subsistence and so entrusted by nature to instinct rather than to reasoning, <a href="#mnum45">45</a>.<br />
<br />
  <i>Probability</i>, <a href="#mnum46">46</a>-7.<br />
<br />
  Belief produced by a majority of chances by an inexplicable contrivance of Nature, <a href="#mnum46">46</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum87">87</a>-8);<br />
  probability of causes: the failure of a cause ascribed to a secret counteracting cause, <a href="#mnum47">47</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum67">67</a>);<br />
  it is universally allowed that chance when strictly examined is a mere negative word, <a href="#mnum74">74</a>.<br />
<br />
  D. <i>Power</i>, <a href="#mnum49">49</a>-57.<br />
<br />
  Power, force, energy, necessary connexion must either be defined by analysis or explained by production of the impression from which they are copied, <a href="#mnum49">49</a>;<br />
  from the first appearance of an object we cannot foretell its effect: we cannot see the power of a single body: we only see sequence, <a href="#mnum50">50</a>.<br />
<br />
  Is the idea of power derived from an internal impression and is it an idea of reflection? <a href="#mnum51">51</a>;<br />
  it is not derived, as Locke said, from reasoning about power of production in nature, <a href="#mnum50">50</a> n;<br />
  nor from consciousness of influence of will over bodily organs, <a href="#mnum52">52</a>;<br />
  nor from effort to overcome resistance, <a href="#mnum52">52</a> n (cf. <a href="#mnum60">60</a> n);<br />
  nor from influence of will over mind, <a href="#mnum53">53</a>;<br />
  many philosophers appeal to an invisible intelligent principle, to a volition of the supreme being, and regard causes as only occasions and our mental conceptions as revelations, <a href="#mnum54">54</a>-5;<br />
  thus diminishing the grandeur of God, <a href="#mnum56">56</a>;<br />
  this theory too bold and beyond verification by our faculties, and is no explanation, <a href="#mnum57">57</a>;<br />
  vis inertiae, <a href="#mnum57">57</a> n.<br />
<br />
  In single instances we only see sequence of loose events which are conjoined and never connected, <a href="#mnum58">58</a>;<br />
  the idea of necessary connexion only arises from a number of similar instances, and the only difference between such a number and a single instance is that the former produces a habit of expecting the usual attendant, <a href="#mnum59">59</a>, <a href="#mnum61">61</a>.<br />
  This customary transition is the impression from which we form the idea of necessary connexion.<br />
<br />
  E. <i>Reasoning from effect to cause and conversely</i>, <a href="#mnum105">105</a>-115 (v. <i>Providence</i>).<br />
<br />
  In arguing from effect to cause we must not infer more qualities in the cause than are required to produce the effect, nor reason backwards from an inferred cause to new effects, <a href="#mnum105">105</a>-8;<br />
  we can reason back from cause to new effects in the case of human acts by analogy which rests on previous knowledge, <a href="#mnum111">111</a>-2;<br />
  when the effect is entirely singular and does not belong to any species we cannot infer its cause at all, <a href="#mnum115">115</a>.<br />
<br />
  F. <i>Definitions of Cause</i>, <a href="#mnum60">60</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum74">74</a> n).<br />

<h4>Ceremonies</h4>
  <a href="#mnum41">41</a>.<br />

<h4>Chance</h4>
  ignorance of causes, <a href="#mnum46">46</a>;<br />
  has no existence, <a href="#mnum74">74</a> (v. <i>Cause</i> B).<br />

<h4>Cicero</h4>
  <a href="#mnum4">4</a>.<br />

<h4>Circle</h4>
  in reasoning, <a href="#mnum30">30</a>.<br />

<h4>Clarke</h4>
  <a href="#mnum37">37</a> n.<br />

<h4>Colour</h4>
  peculiarity of ideas of, <a href="#mnum16">16</a>.<br />

<h4>Contiguity</h4>
  <a href="#mnum19">19</a>, <a href="#mnum42">42</a>.<br />

<h4>Contradiction</h4>
  the test of demonstration, <a href="#mnum132">132</a>.<br />

<h4>Contrariety</h4>
  <a href="#mnum19">19</a> n.<br />

<h4>Contrary</h4>
  of matter of fact always possible, <a href="#mnum21">21</a>, <a href="#mnum132">132</a>.<br />

<h4>Creation</h4>
  <a href="#mnum132">132</a> n.<br />

<h4>Criticism</h4>
  <a href="#mnum132">132</a>.<br />

<h4>Cudworth</h4>
  <a href="#mnum57">57</a> n, <a href="#mnum158">158</a> n.<br />

<h4>Custom</h4>
  when strongest conceals itself, <a href="#mnum24">24</a>;<br />
  an ultimate principle of all conclusions from experience, <a href="#mnum36">36</a>, <a href="#mnum127">127</a>;<br />
  and belief, <a href="#mnum39">39</a>-45;<br />
  gives rise to inferences of animals, <a href="#mnum84">84</a>.<br />

<h4>Definition</h4>
  only applicable to complex ideas, <a href="#mnum49">49</a>;<br />
  need of, <a href="#mnum131">131</a>;<br />
  of cause, <a href="#mnum60">60</a>.<br />

<h4>Demonstrative</h4>
  opp. intuitive, <a href="#mnum20">20</a>;<br />
  reasoning, <a href="#mnum30">30</a>;<br />
  confined to quantity and number, <a href="#mnum131">131</a>;<br />
  impossible to demonstrate a fact since no negation of a fact can involve a contradiction, <a href="#mnum132">132</a>.<br />

<h4>Descartes</h4>
  <a href="#mnum57">57</a> n.;<br />
  his universal doubt antecedent to study if strictly taken is incurable, since even from an indubitable first principle no advance can be made except by the faculties which we doubt, <a href="#mnum116">116</a>;<br />
  his appeal to the veracity of God is useless, <a href="#mnum120">120</a> (v. <i>Scepticism</i>, <a href="#mnum116">116</a>-132).<br />

<h4>Design</h4>
  argument from, <a href="#mnum105">105</a> f. (v. <i>Providence</i>).<br />

<h4>Divisibility</h4>
  of mathematical and physical points, <a href="#mnum124">124</a>.<br />

<h4>Doubt</h4>
  Cartesian, <a href="#mnum116">116</a>, <a href="#mnum120">120</a> (v. <i>Scepticism</i> A).<br />

<h4>Epictetus</h4>
  <a href="#mnum34">34</a>.<br />

<h4>Epicurean</h4>
  philosophy, defence of, <a href="#mnum102">102</a>-15;<br />
  denial of providence and future state is harmless, <a href="#mnum104">104</a> (v. <i>Providence</i>).<br />

<h4>Euclid</h4>
  truths in, do not depend on existence of circles or triangles, <a href="#mnum20">20</a>.<br />

<h4>Evidence</h4>
  moral and natural, <a href="#mnum70">70</a>;<br />
  value of human, <a href="#mnum82">82</a>-9 (v. <i>Miracles</i>).<br />

<h4>Evil</h4>
  doctrine of necessity either makes God the cause of evil or denies existence of evil as regards the whole, <a href="#mnum78">78</a>-81.<br />

<h4>Existence</h4>
  external and perception, <a href="#mnum118">118</a>-9 (v. <i>Scepticism</i>, B, <a href="#mnum116">116</a>-32).<br />

<h4>Ex nihilo nihil</h4>
  <a href="#mnum132">132</a> n.<br />

<h4>Experience</h4>
  (v. <i>Cause</i> A, <a href="#mnum23">23</a>-33);<br />
  opposition of reason and experience usual, but really erroneous and superficial, <a href="#mnum36">36</a> n.<br />
<br />
  Infallible, may be regarded as proof, <a href="#mnum87">87</a> (v. <i>Miracles</i>);<br />
  all the philosophy and religion in the world cannot carry us beyond the usual course of experience, <a href="#mnum113">113</a>.<br />

<h4>Extension</h4>
  <a href="#mnum50">50</a>;<br />
  a supposed primary quality, <a href="#mnum122">122</a>.<br />

<h4>Faith</h4>
  <a href="#mnum101">101</a>, <a href="#mnum132">132</a>.<br />

<h4>Fiction</h4>
  and fact (v. <i>Cause</i> C), <a href="#mnum39">39</a> f.<br />

<h4>Future</h4>
  inference to, from past, <a href="#mnum29">29</a> (v. <i>Cause</i> A).<br />

<h4>General</h4>
  ideas, do not really exist, but only particular ideas attached to a general term, <a href="#mnum125">125</a> n.<br />

<h4>Geography</h4>
  mental, <a href="#mnum8">8</a>.<br />

<h4>Geometry</h4>
  propositions of certain, as depending only on relations of ideas not on existence of objects, <a href="#mnum20">20</a>;<br />
  gives no knowledge of ultimate causes: only applies laws discovered by experience, <a href="#mnum27">27</a>.<br />

<h4>God</h4>
  idea of, <a href="#mnum14">14</a>;<br />
  no idea of except what we learn from reflection on our own faculties, <a href="#mnum57">57</a>;<br />
  theory that God is cause of all motion and thought, causes being only occasions of his volition, <a href="#mnum54">54</a>-57;<br />
  by doctrine of necessity either there are no bad actions or God is the cause of evil, <a href="#mnum78">78</a>-81.<br />
<br />
  Veracity of, appealed to, <a href="#mnum120">120</a>.<br />
<br />
  And creation of matter, <a href="#mnum132">132</a> n.<br />
<br />
  v. <i>Providence</i>, <a href="#mnum102">102</a>-115; <i>Scepticism</i>, <a href="#mnum116">116</a>-132.<br />

<h4>Golden</h4>
  age, <a href="#mnum107">107</a>.<br />

<h4>Gravity</h4>
  <a href="#mnum26">26</a>.<br />

<h4>Habit</h4>
  (v. <i>Custom</i>, <i>Cause</i> B).<br />

<h4>History</h4>
  use of, <a href="#mnum65">65</a>.<br />

<h4>Human</h4>
  nature, inconstancy a constant character of, <a href="#mnum$68">68</a>.<br />

<h4>Ideas</h4>
  A. <i>Origin of</i>, <a href="#mnum11">11</a>-17.<br />
<br />
  Perceptions divided into impressions and ideas, <a href="#mnum11">11</a>-12;<br />
  the mind can only compound the materials derived from outward or inward sentiment, <a href="#mnum13">13</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum53">53</a>);<br />
  all ideas resolvable into simple ideas copied from precedent feelings, <a href="#mnum14">14</a>;<br />
  deficiency in an organ of sensation produces deficiency in corresponding idea, <a href="#mnum15">15</a>-16;<br />
  suspected ideas to be tested by asking for the impression from which it is derived, <a href="#mnum17">17</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum49">49</a>);<br />
  idea of reflection, <a href="#mnum51">51</a>;<br />
  general ideas, <a href="#mnum135">135</a> n;<br />
  innate ideas, <a href="#mnum19">19</a> n;<br />
  power of will over ideas, <a href="#mnum53">53</a>.<br />
<br />
  B. <i>Association of</i>, <a href="#mnum18">18</a>-19.<br />
<br />
  Ideas introduce each other with a certain degree of method and regularity, <a href="#mnum18">18</a>;<br />
  only three principles of association, viz. Resemblance, Contiguity, and Cause or Effect, <a href="#mnum19">19</a>;<br />
  contrariety, <a href="#mnum19">19</a> n;<br />
  production of belief by these principles, <a href="#mnum41">41</a>-43.<br />
<br />
  C. Correspondence of ideas and course of nature, <a href="#mnum44">44</a>;<br />
  relations of ideas one of two possible objects of enquiry, <a href="#mnum20">20</a>;<br />
  such relations  discoverable by the mere operation of thought, <a href="#mnum20">20</a>, <a href="#mnum131">131</a>;<br />
  no demonstration possible except in case of ideas of quantity or number, <a href="#mnum131">131</a>.<br />

<h4>Imagination</h4>
  <a href="#mnum11">11</a>, <a href="#mnum39">39</a>;<br />
  and belief, <a href="#mnum40">40</a>.<br />

<h4>Impressions</h4>
  all our more lively perceptions, <a href="#mnum12">12</a>;<br />
  the test of ideas, <a href="#mnum17">17</a>, <a href="#mnum49">49</a>.<br />

<h4>Incest</h4>
  peculiar turpitude of explained, <a href="#mnum12">12</a>.<br />

<h4>Inconceivability</h4>
  of the negative, <a href="#mnum132">132</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum20">20</a>).<br />

<h4>Inertia</h4>
  <a href="#mnum57">57</a> n.<br />

<h4>Inference</h4>
  and similarity, <a href="#mnum30">30</a>, <a href="#mnum115">115</a> (v. <i>Cause</i>).<br />

<h4>Infinite</h4>
  divisibility, <a href="#mnum124">124</a> f.<br />

<h4>Instances</h4>
  multiplication of not required by reason, <a href="#mnum31">31</a>.<br />

<h4>Instinct</h4>
  more trustworthy than reasoning, <a href="#mnum45">45</a>;<br />
  the basis  of all experimental reasoning, <a href="#mnum85">85</a>;<br />
  the basis of realism, <a href="#mnum118">118</a>, <a href="#mnum121">121</a>.<br />

<h4>Intuitive</h4>
  opp. mediate reasoning, <a href="#mnum2">2</a>.<br />

<h4>La Bruyere</h4>
  <a href="#mnum4">4</a>.<br />

<h4>Liberty</h4>
  (v. <i>Necessity</i>, <a href="#mnum62">62</a>-97).<br />
  Definition of hypothetical liberty, <a href="#mnum73">73</a>.<br />
  Necessary to morality, <a href="#mnum77">77</a>.<br />

<h4>Locke</h4>
  <a href="#mnum4">4</a>, <a href="#mnum40">40</a> n, <a href="#mnum50">50</a> n, <a href="#mnum57">57</a> n.<br />
  His loose use of 'ideas,' <a href="#mnum19">19</a> n;<br />
  betrayed into frivolous disputes about innate ideas by the School-men, <a href="#mnum19">19</a> n;<br />
  distinction of primary and secondary qualities, <a href="#mnum122">122</a>.<br />

<h4>Malebranche</h4>
  <a href="#mnum4">4</a>, <a href="#mnum57">57</a> n..<br />

<h4>Man</h4>
  a reasonable and active being, <a href="#mnum4">4</a>.<br />

<h4>Marriage</h4>
  rules of, based on and vary with utility, <a href="#mnum118">118</a>.<br />

<h4>Mathematics</h4>
  ideas of, clear and determinate, hence their superiority to moral and metaphysical sciences, <a href="#mnum48">48</a>;<br />
  their difficulty, <a href="#mnum48">48</a>.<br />
<br />
  Mathematical and physical points, <a href="#mnum124">124</a> n.<br />

<h4>Matter</h4>
  necessity of, <a href="#mnum64">64</a>;<br />
  creation of, <a href="#mnum132">132</a> n (v. <i>Scepticism</i> A).<br />

<h4>Matter-of-fact</h4>
  contrary of, always possible, <a href="#mnum21">21</a>;<br />
  arguments to new, based only on cause and effect, <a href="#mnum22">22</a>.<br />

<h4>Metaphysics</h4>
  not a science, <a href="#mnum5">5</a>-6;<br />
  how inferior and superior to mathematics, <a href="#mnum48">48</a>.<br />

<h4>Mind</h4>
  mental geography, <a href="#mnum8">8</a>;<br />
  secret springs and principles of, <a href="#mnum9">9</a>;<br />
  can only mix and compound materials given by inward and outward sentiment, <a href="#mnum13">13</a>;<br />
  power of will over, <a href="#mnum53">53</a>.<br />

<h4>Miracles.</h4>
  <a href="#mnum86">86</a>-101.<br />
<br />
  Belief in human evidence diminishes according as the event witnessed is unusual or extraordinary, <a href="#mnum89">89</a>;<br />
  difference between extraordinary and miraculous, <a href="#mnum89">89</a> n;<br />
  if the evidence for a miracle amounted to proof we should have one proof opposed by another proof, for the proof against a miracle is as complete as possible;<br />
  an event is not miraculous unless there is a uniform experience, that is a proof, against it, <a href="#mnum90">90</a>;<br />
  definition of miracle, <a href="#mnum90">90</a> n;<br />
  hence no testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle unless its falsehood would be more miraculous than the event it establishes, <a href="#mnum91">91</a>;<br />
  as a fact the evidence for a miracle has never amounted to proof, <a href="#mnum92">92</a>;<br />
  the passion for the wonderful in human nature, <a href="#mnum93">93</a>;<br />
  prevalence of miracles in savage and early periods and their diminution with civilization, <a href="#mnum94">94</a>;<br />
  the evidence for miracles in matters of religion opposed by the almost infinite number of witnesses for rival religions, <a href="#mnum95">95</a>;<br />
  value of human testimony diminished by temptation to pose as a prophet or apostle, <a href="#mnum97">97</a>;<br />
  no testimony for a miracle has ever amounted to a probability, much less to a proof, and if it did amount to a proof it would be opposed by another perfect proof, <a href="#mnum98">98</a>;<br />
  so a miracle can never be proved so as to be the foundation of a system of religion, <a href="#mnum99">99</a>;<br />
  a conclusion which confounds those who base the Christian religion on reason, not on faith, <a href="#mnum100">100</a>;<br />
  the Christian religion cannot be believed without a miracle which will subvert the principle of a man's understanding and give him a determination to believe what is most contrary to custom and experience, <a href="#mnum101">101</a>.<br />

<h4>Moral</h4>
  evil (q.v.) <a href="#mnum80">80</a>.<br />

<h4>Moral science</h4>
  <a href="#mnum30">30</a>;<br />
  inferior to mathematics, <a href="#mnum48">48</a>;<br />
  sceptical objections to, <a href="#mnum126">126</a>-7.<br />
<br />
  Moral evidence easily combined with natural, <a href="#mnum70">70</a>.<br />

<h4>Motion</h4>
  <a href="#mnum50">50</a>.<br />

<h4>Nature</h4>
  design in, <a href="#mnum105">105</a> f. (v. <i>Providence</i>),<br />
  and the course of our ideas, <a href="#mnum44">44</a>.<br />
<br />
  State of, a philosophical fiction, <a href="#mnum151">151</a>, <a href="#mnum151">151</a> n.<br />

<h4>Necessary</h4>
  connexion (v. <i>Cause</i>).<br />

<h4>Necessity</h4>
  two definitions of, <a href="#mnum75">75</a>.<br />
<br />
  A. <i>and Liberty</i>, <a href="#mnum62">62</a>-81;<br />
  the controversy is based on ambiguity, and all mankind have always been of the same opinion on this subject, <a href="#mnum63">63</a>;<br />
  our idea of the necessity of matter arises solely from observed uniformity and consequent inference, circumstances which are allowed by all men to exist in respect of human action, <a href="#mnum64">64</a>;<br />
  history and knowledge of human nature assume such uniformity, <a href="#mnum65">65</a>,<br />
  which does not exclude variety due to education and progress, <a href="#mnum66">66</a>;<br />
  irregular actions to be explained by secret operation of contrary causes, <a href="#mnum67">67</a>;<br />
  the inconstancy of human action, its constant character, as of winds and weather, <a href="#mnum68">68</a>;<br />
  we all acknowledge and draw inferences from the regular conjunction of motives and actions, <a href="#mnum69">69</a>;<br />
  history, politics, and morals show this, and the possibility of combining moral and natural evidence shows that they have a common origin, <a href="#mnum70">70</a>;<br />
  the reluctance to acknowledge the necessity of actions due to a lingering belief that we can see real connexion behind mere conjunction, <a href="#mnum71">71</a>;<br />
  we should begin with the examination not of the soul and will but of brute matter, <a href="#mnum72">72</a>;<br />
  the prevalence of the liberty doctrine due to a false sensation of liberty and a false experiment, <a href="#mnum72">72</a> n;<br />
  though this question is the most contentious of all, mankind has always agreed in the doctrine of liberty, if we mean by it that hypothetical liberty which consists in a power of acting or not acting according to the determinations of our will, and which can be ascribed to every one who is not a prisoner, <a href="#mnum73">73</a>;<br />
  liberty when opposed to necessity, and not merely to constraint, is the same as chance, <a href="#mnum74">74</a>.<br />
<br />
  B. <i>Both necessity and liberty are necessary to morality</i>, this doctrine of necessity only alters our view of matter and so is at least innocent, <a href="#mnum75">75</a>;<br />
  rewards and punishments imply the uniform influence of motives, and connexion of character and action: if necessity be denied, a man may commit any crime and be no worse for it, <a href="#mnum76">76</a>;<br />
  liberty also essential to morality, <a href="#mnum77">77</a>.<br />
<br />
  Objection that doctrine of necessity and of a regular chain of causes either makes God the cause of evil, or abolishes evil in actions, <a href="#mnum78">78</a>;<br />
  Stoic answer, that the whole system is good, is specious but ineffectual in practice, <a href="#mnum79">79</a>;<br />
  no speculative argument can counteract the impulse of our natural sentiments to blame certain actions, <a href="#mnum80">80</a>;<br />
  how God can be the cause of all actions without being the author of moral evil is a mystery with which philosophy cannot deal, <a href="#mnum81">81</a>.<br />

<h4>Negative</h4>
  inconceivability of, <a href="#mnum132">132</a>.<br />

<h4>Newton</h4>
  <a href="#mnum57">57</a> n.<br />

<h4>Nisus</h4>
  <a href="#mnum52">52</a> n, <a href="#mnum60">60</a> n.<br />

<h4>Number</h4>
  the object of demonstration, <a href="#mnum131">131</a>.<br />

<h4>Occasional causes</h4>
  theory of, <a href="#mnum55">55</a>.<br />

<h4>Parallelism</h4>
  between thought and course of nature, <a href="#mnum44">44</a>-5.<br />

<h4>Perception</h4>
  and external objects, <a href="#mnum119">119</a> f. (v. <i>Scepticism</i>, <i>Impression</i>, <i>Idea</i>).<br />

<h4>Philosophy</h4>
  moral, two branches of, abstruse and practical, <a href="#mnum1">1</a>-5;<br />
  gratifies innocent curiosity, <a href="#mnum6">6</a>;<br />
  metaphysics tries to deal with matters inaccessible to human understanding, <a href="#mnum6">6</a>.<br />
<br />
  True, must lay down limits of understanding, <a href="#mnum7">7</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum113">113</a>);<br />
  a large part of, consists in mental geography, <a href="#mnum8">8</a>;<br />
  may hope to resolve principles of mind into still more general principles, <a href="#mnum9">9</a>.<br />
<br />
  Natural, only staves off our ignorance a little longer, as moral or metaphysical philosophy serves only to discover larger portions of it, <a href="#mnum26">26</a>;<br />
  academical, or sceptical, flatters no bias or passion except love of truth, and so has few partisans, <a href="#mnum34">34</a>;<br />
  though it destroy speculation, cannot destroy action, for nature steps in and asserts her rights, <a href="#mnum34">34</a>;<br />
  moral, inferior to mathematics in clearness of ideas, superior in shortness of arguments, <a href="#mnum48">48</a>.<br />
<br />
  Controversies in, due to ambiguity of terms, <a href="#mnum62">62</a>.<br />
<br />
  Disputes in, not be settled by appeal to dangerous consequences of a doctrine, <a href="#mnum75">75</a>.<br />
<br />
  Speculative, entirely indifferent to the peace of society and security of government, <a href="#mnum104">104</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum114">114</a>).<br />
<br />
  All the philosophy in the world, and all the religion in the world, which is nothing but a species of philosophy, can never carry us beyond the usual course of experience, <a href="#mnum113">113</a>.<br />
<br />
  Happiness of, to have originated in an age and country of freedom and toleration, <a href="#mnum102">102</a>.<br />

<h4>Points</h4>
  physical, indivisible, <a href="#mnum124">124</a> n.<br />

<h4>Power</h4>
  <a href="#mnum50">50</a> f, <a href="#mnum60">60</a> n. (v. <i>Cause</i> D).<br />

<h4>Probability</h4>
  <a href="#mnum46">46</a> f. (v. <i>Cause</i>, B).<br />

<h4>Probable</h4>
  arguments, <a href="#mnum38">38</a>, <a href="#mnum46">46</a> n.<br />

<h4>Production</h4>
  <a href="#mnum50">50</a> n.<br />

<h4>Promises</h4>
  not the foundation of justice, <a href="#mnum257">257</a>.<br />

<h4>Proof</h4>
  <a href="#mnum46">46</a> n, <a href="#mnum86">86</a>-101 (v. <i>Miracles</i>, <i>Demonstrative</i>).<br />

<h4>Providence</h4>
  <a href="#mnum102">102</a>-115 (v. <i>God</i>).<br />
<br />
  The sole argument for a divine existence is from the marks of design in nature; must not infer greater power in the cause than is necessary to produce the observed effects, nor argue from such an inferred cause to any new effects which have not been observed, <a href="#mnum105">105</a>;<br />
  so must not infer in God more power, wisdom, and benevolence than appears in nature, <a href="#mnum106">106</a>;<br />
  so it is unnecessary to try and save the honour of the Gods by assuming the intractability of matter or the observance of general laws, <a href="#mnum107">107</a>;<br />
  to argue from effects to unknown causes, and then from these causes to unknown effects, is a gross sophism, <a href="#mnum108">108</a>.<br />
<br />
  From imperfect exercise of justice in this world we cannot infer its perfect exercise in a future world, <a href="#mnum109">109</a>;<br />
  we must regulate our conduct solely by the experienced train of events, <a href="#mnum110">110</a>;<br />
  in case of human works of art we can infer the perfect from the imperfect, but that is because we know man by experience and also know other instances of his art, <a href="#mnum111">111</a>-112;<br />
  but in the case of God we only know him by his productions, and do not know any class of beings to which he belongs, <a href="#mnum113">113</a>;<br />
  and the universe, his production, is entirely singular and does not belong to a known species of things, <a href="#mnum115">115</a>.<br />

<h4>Punishment</h4>
  requires doctrines of necessity and liberty, <a href="#mnum76">76</a> (v. <i>Necessity</i>).<br />

<h4>Pyrrhonism</h4>
  <a href="#mnum126">126</a>.<br />

<h4>Qualities</h4>
  primary and secondary, <a href="#mnum122">122</a>.<br />

<h4>Quantity</h4>
  and number, the only objects of demonstration, the parts of them being entirely similar, <a href="#mnum131">131</a>.<br />

<h4>Real</h4>
  presence, <a href="#mnum86">86</a>.<br />

<h4>Reality</h4>
  and thought, <a href="#mnum44">44</a>.<br />

<h4>Realism</h4>
  of the vulgar, <a href="#mnum118">118</a>.<br />

<h4>Reason</h4>
  (a)  opp. intuition, <a href="#mnum29">29</a>;<br />
  opp. experience, <a href="#mnum28">28</a>, <a href="#mnum36">36</a> n.<br />
<br />
  (b) Corrects sympathy and senses, <a href="#mnum117">117</a>.<br />
  No match for nature, <a href="#mnum34">34</a>.<br />
<br />
  Fallacious, compared with instinct, <a href="#mnum45">45</a>.<br />
<br />
  Of men and animals, <a href="#mnum84">84</a> n.<br />
<br />
  (c) attempts to destroy, by reasoning, <a href="#mnum124">124</a>;<br />
  objections to abstract reasoning, <a href="#mnum124">124</a> f. (v. <i>Scepticism</i>).<br />
<br />
  (d) <i>Reasoning</i>.<br />
<br />
  Two kinds of, demonstrative and moral, <a href="#mnum30">30</a>, <a href="#mnum46">46</a> n, <a href="#mnum132">132</a>;<br />
  moral, divided into general and particular, <a href="#mnum132">132</a>;<br />
  produces demonstrations, proofs, and probabilities, <a href="#mnum46">46</a> n.<br />
<br />
  Probable (v. <i>Cause</i>, <a href="#mnum28">28</a>-32).<br />

<h4>Relations</h4>
  of ideas, discoverable by the mere operation of thought, independently of the existence of any object, <a href="#mnum20">20</a>.<br />

<h4>Religion</h4>
  a kind of philosophy, <a href="#mnum113">113</a> (v. <i>Miracles, Providence</i>).<br />

<h4>Resemblance</h4>
  <a href="#mnum19">19</a>, <a href="#mnum41">41</a> (v. <i>Similarity</i>).<br />

<h4>Resistance</h4>
  and idea of power, <a href="#mnum53">53</a> n.<br />

<h4>Scepticism</h4>
  A. antecedent to study and philosophy, such as Descartes' universal doubt of our faculties, would be incurable: in a more moderate sense it is useful, <a href="#mnum116">116</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum129">129</a>-30);<br />
  extravagant attempts of, to destroy reason by reasoning, <a href="#mnum124">124</a>.<br />
<br />
  No such absurd creature as a man who has no opinion about anything at all, <a href="#mnum116">116</a>;<br />
  admits of no answer and produces no conviction, <a href="#mnum122">122</a> n. (cf. <a href="#mnum34">34</a>, <a href="#mnum126">126</a>, <a href="#mnum128">128</a>).<br />
<br />
  B. <i>As to the Senses</i>, <a href="#mnum117">117</a>-123.<br />
<br />
  The ordinary criticisms of our senses only show that they have to be corrected by Reason, <a href="#mnum117">117</a>;<br />
  more profound arguments show that the vulgar belief in external objects is baseless, and that the objects we see are nothing but perceptions which are fleeting copies of other existences, <a href="#mnum118">118</a>;<br />
  even this philosophy is hard to justify; it appeals neither to natural instinct, nor to experience, for experience tells nothing of objects which perceptions resemble, <a href="#mnum119">119</a>;<br />
  the appeal to the <i>veracity of God</i> is useless, <a href="#mnum120">120</a>;<br />
  and scepticism is here triumphant, <a href="#mnum121">121</a>.<br />
<br />
  <i>The distinction between primary and secondary qualities</i> is useless, for the supposed primary qualities are only perceptions, <a href="#mnum122">122</a>;<br />
  and Berkeley's theory that ideas of primary qualities are obtained by abstraction is impossible, <a href="#mnum122">122</a>, <a href="#mnum122">122</a> n;<br />
  if matter is deprived of both primary and secondary qualities there is nothing left except a mere something which is not worth arguing about, <a href="#mnum123">123</a>.<br />
<br />
  C. <i>As to Reason</i>, <a href="#mnum124">124</a>-130.<br />
<br />
  Attempt to destroy Reason by reasoning extravagant, <a href="#mnum124">124</a>;<br />
  objection to <i>abstract reasoning</i> because it asserts infinite divisibility of extension which is shocking to common sense, <a href="#mnum124">124</a>,<br />
  and infinite divisibility of time, <a href="#mnum125">125</a>;<br />
  yet the ideas attacked are so clear and distinct that scepticism becomes sceptical about itself, <a href="#mnum125">125</a>.<br />
<br />
  Popular objections to <i>moral reasoning</i> about matter of fact, based on weakness of understanding, variation of judgement, and disagreement among men, confuted by action, <a href="#mnum126">126</a>;<br />
  philosophical objections, that we only experience conjunction and that inference is based on custom, <a href="#mnum127">127</a>;<br />
  excessive scepticism refuted by its uselessness and put to flight by the most trivial event in life, <a href="#mnum128">128</a>.<br />
<br />
  Mitigated scepticism or academical philosophy useful as a corrective and as producing caution and modesty, <a href="#mnum129">129</a>;<br />
  and as limiting understanding to proper objects, <a href="#mnum130">130</a>;<br />
  all reasoning which is not either abstract, about quantity and number, or experimental, about matters of fact, is sophistry and illusion, <a href="#mnum132">132</a>.<br />
<br />
  D, In <i>Religion</i> (v. <i>Miracles</i>, <i>Providence</i>).<br />

<h4>Sciences</h4>
  <a href="#mnum132">132</a> (v. <i>Reason</i>, (d); <i>Scepticism</i>, C).<br />

<h4>Secret</h4>
  powers, <a href="#mnum39">39</a>;<br />
  counteracting causes, <a href="#mnum47">47</a>, <a href="#mnum67">67</a>.<br />

<h4>Senses</h4>
  outward and inward sensation supplies all the materials of thinking--must be corrected by reason, <a href="#mnum117">117</a>.<br />
<br />
  Scepticism concerning, <a href="#mnum117">117</a> (v. <i>Scepticism</i>, B).<br />

<h4>Similarity</h4>
  basis of all arguments from experience, <a href="#mnum31">31</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum115">115</a>).<br />

<h4>Solidity</h4>
  <a href="#mnum50">50</a>;<br />
  a supposed primary quality, <a href="#mnum122">122</a>.<br />

<h4>Soul</h4>
  and body, <a href="#mnum52">52</a>.<br />

<h4>Space</h4>
  and time, <a href="#mnum124">124</a> f.<br />

<h4>Species</h4>
  an effect which belongs to no species does not admit of inference to its cause, <a href="#mnum115">115</a> (cf. <a href="#mnum113">113</a>).<br />

<h4>Stoics</h4>
  <a href="#mnum34">34</a>, <a href="#mnum79">79</a>.<br />

<h4>Superstition</h4>
  <a href="#mnum6">6</a> (v. <i>Providence</i>).<br />

<h4>Theology</h4>
  science of, <a href="#mnum132">132</a> (v. <i>God</i>, <i>Providence</i>).<br />

<h4>Tillotson</h4>
  argument against real presence, <a href="#mnum86">86</a>.<br />

<h4>Time</h4>
  and space, <a href="#mnum124">124</a> f.<br />

<h4>Truth</h4>
  <a href="#mnum8">8</a>, <a href="#mnum17">17</a> (v. <i>Scepticism</i>).<br />

<h4>Understanding</h4>
  limits of human, <a href="#mnum7">7</a>;<br />
  operations of, to be classified, <a href="#mnum8">8</a>;<br />
  opp. experience, <a href="#mnum28">28</a>;<br />
  weakness of, <a href="#mnum126">126</a> (v. <i>Reason</i>, <i>Scepticism</i>).<br />

<h4>Voluntariness</h4>
  as ground of distinction between virtues and talents, <a href="#mnum130">130</a>.<br />

<h4>Whole</h4>
  theory that everything is good as regards 'the whole,' <a href="#mnum79">79</a> <a href="#mnum80">80</a>.<br />

<h4>Will</h4>
  compounds materials given by senses, <a href="#mnum13">13</a>;<br />
  influence of over organs of body can never give us the idea of power; for we are not conscious of any power in our will, only of sequence of motions on will, <a href="#mnum52">52</a>;<br />
  so with power of will over our minds in raising up new ideas, <a href="#mnum53">53</a>.<br />
<br />
  Of God, cannot be used to explain motion, <a href="#mnum57">57</a>.<br />
<br />
  Freedom of (v. <i>Necessity</i>).<br />
</blockquote>
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