PART I.

ALL the objects of human reason or enquiry may naturally be divided into two kinds, viz. Re­lations of Ideas and Matters of Fact. Of the first kind are the sciences of Geometry, Algebra, and Arith­metic; and in short, every affirmation, which is either intuitively or demonstratively certain. That the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the two sides, is a proposition, which expresses a relation between these figures. That three times five is equal to the half of thirty, expresses a relation between these numbers. Propositions of this kind are discoverable by the mere operation of thought, without dependence on what is any where existent in the universe. Tho' there never were a circle or triangle in nature, the truths demon­strated by EUCLID, would for ever retain their cer­tainty and evidence.

[Page 46] MATTERS of fact, which are the second objects of human reason, are not ascertained int 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 equal facility and distinct­ness, as if ever so conformable to reality. That the sun will not rise to-morrow is no less intelligible a proposition, and implies no more contradiction, than the affirmation, that it will rise. We should in vain, therefore, attempt to demonstrate its falshood. Were it demonstratively false, it would imply a contradic­tion, and could never be distinctly conceived by the mind.

IT may, therefore, be a subject worthy 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, 'tis 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 thro' 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 [Page 47] 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.

ALL reasonings concerning matter of fact seem to be founded in the relation of Cause and Effect. By means of that relation alone can we 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 knowlege of his former resolutions and primises. A man, finding a watch or any other machine in a desart island, would con­clude, that there had once been men in that island. All our reasonings concerning fact are of the same nature. And here 'tis constantly supposed, that there is a connexion between the present fact and that 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 in the [Page 48] 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.

IF we would satisfy ourselves, therefore, concern­ing the nature of that evidence, which assures us of all matters of fact, we must enquire how we arrive at the knowlege of cause and effect.

I SHALL venture to affirm, as a general proposition, which admits of no exception, that the knowlege of this relation is not, in any instance, attained by reasonings à priori; 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, tho' 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 [Page 49] by experience, ever draw any inferences con­cerning real existence and matter of fact.

THIS proposition, that cause and effects are discover­able, not by reason but by experience, will readily be admitted with regard to such objects, as we remem­ber to have been once 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 à priori. In like manner, when an effect is supposed to depend upon an intricate ma­chinery or secret structure of parts, we make no dif­ficulty to attribute all our knowlege 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 tyger?

BUT the same truth may not appear, at first sight, to have the same evidence with regard to events, [Page 50] 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 operations 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.

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 'tis plain that this invention must be entirely arbitrary. The mind can [Page 51] 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 any thing 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 à priori, is there any thing 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 tye or connexion between the cause and effect, which binds them together, and ren­ders it impossible, that any other effect could result from the operatioon of that cause. When I see, for instance, a Billiard-ball moving in a strait 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 strait line, or leap off from the second in any line or direction? [Page 52] All these suppositions are consistent and conceivable. Why then should we give the preference to one, which is no more consistent nor conceivable than the rest? All our reasonings à priori will never be able to shew us any foundation for this preference.

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, à priori, 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.

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 produced any single effect in the universe. 'Tis con­fessed, that the utmost effort of human reason is, to reduce the principles, productive of natural phaeno­mena, to a greater simplicity, and to resolve the many particular effects into a few general cause, by means of reasonings from analogy, experience, and observation. But as to the causes of these general [Page 53] 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 phaeno­mena 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 portion of our ignorance. Thus the observation of human blindness and weakness is the result of all philosophy, and meets us, at every turn, in spight of our endea­vours to elude or avoid it.

NOR is geometry, when taken into the assistance of natural philosophy, ever able to remedy this de­fect, or lead us into the knowlege of ultimate causes, by all that accuracy of reasoning, for which it is so justly celebrated. Every part of mixed mathematics goes 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 [Page 54] in particular instances, where it depends upon any precise degrees of distance and quantity. Thus 'tis 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 sorce may remove the greatest obstacle or raise the greatest weight, if by any contrivance or machinery we can encrease 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 knowlege of it. When we reason à priori, 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, shew us the inseparable and inviolable connection 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 operations of these qualities.

PART II.

BUT we have not, as 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, What is the nature of all our reasonings concerning matter of fact? The proper answer seems to be, that they are founded on the rela­tion of cause and effect. When again it is asked, What is the foundation of all our reasonings and con­clusions concerning that relation? it may be replied in one word, EXPERIENCE. But if we still carry on our sifting humour, and ask, What is the foundation of all our conclusions from experience? 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.

[Page 56] 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 not founded on reasoning, or any process of the understanding. This answer we must endeavour, both to explain and to defend.

IT must certainly be allowed, that nature has kept us at a great distance from all her secrets, and has aoffrded us only the knowlege of a few superficial qualities of objects, while she conceals from us those powers and principles, on which the influence of these objects entirely depends. Our senses inform us of the colour, weight, and consistence of bread; but neither senses nor reason ever can 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 notwithanding this ignorance of natural powers^* and principles, we always presume, [Page 57] where we see like sensible qualities, that they have like secret powers, and lay our account, 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 expect, with certainty, like nourishment and support. Now this is a process of the mind or thought, of which I would willingly know the foundation. 'Tis allowed on all hands, that there is no known connection 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 any thing which it knows of their nature. As to past Experience, it can be allowed to give direct and certain information only of those precise objects, 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 no [Page 58] way necessary. At least, it must be acknowleged, 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 have found that such an object has always been attended with such an effect, and I foresee, that other objects, which are, to appearance, similar, will be attended with simi­lar effects. 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 con­nection 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 'tis incumbent on those to produce it, who assert, that it really exists, and is the origin of all our conclusions concerning matter of fact.

THIS negative argument must certainly, in process of time, become altogether convincing, if many pe­netrating and able philosophers shall turn their inqui­ries 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 [Page 59] far to his own penetration, as to conclude, because an argument escapes his research and 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 knowlege, endeavour to shew, that none of them can afford such an argument.

ALL reasonings may be divided into two kinds, viz. demonstrative reasonings, or those concerning relations of ideas, and moral reasonings or those 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 argu­ments or abstract reasonings à priori.

[Page 60] IF we be, therefore, engaged by arguments to put trust in past experience, and make it the standard of our future judgment, 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 are no arguments 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 knowlege 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.

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 tho' 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 [Page 61] experience, and makes us draw advantage from that similarity, which nature has placed among different objects. From causes, which appear similar, 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 apparent similarity, expects the same taste and relish in all of them. 'Tis 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 an hun­dred instances, that are no way different from that single instance? 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.

SHOULD it be said, that from a number of uni­form experiments, we infer a connection between the sensible qualities and the secret powers; this, I must confess, seems the same difficulty, couched in diffe­rent [Page 62] terms. The question still recurs, On what pro­cess of argument this inference is founded? Where is the medium, the interposing ideas, which join pro­popositions so very wide of each other? 'Tis 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 shews 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 lay our account with a like effect. From a body of like colour and consistence with bread, we look for like nourishment and support. But this furely is a step or progress of the mind, which wants to be explained. When a man says, I have found, in all past instances, such sensible qualities, conjoined with such secret powers: And when he says, similar sensible qualities will always be conjoined with similar secret powers; he is not guilty [Page 63] of a tautology, nor are these propositions in any re­spect the same: You say that the one proposition is an inference from another. 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. 'Tis 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 learnt 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 [Page 64] 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 vast im­portance. Can I do better than propose the difficulty to the public, even tho', 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 knowlege.

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 tho' all the learned, for several ages, should have employed their time 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 tho' we examine all the sources of our knowlege, and conclude them unfit for such a subject, there may still remain a suspicion, that the enumeration is not compleat, or the exami­nation not accurate. But with regard to the present subject, there are some considerations, which seem to [Page 65] remove all this accusation of arrogance or suspicion of mistake.

'TIS certain, that the most ignorant and stupid pea­sants, nay infants, nay even brute beasts 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 pretext 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 to have [Page 66] made no mighty discovery. And if I be wrong, I must acknowlege 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.

PART I.

THE passion for philosophy, like that for religion, seems liable to this inconvenience, that, tho' 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 draws too much, by the byass and propensity of the natural temper. 'Tis 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 Stoics, 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 on the empty and transitory nature of riches and honors, we are, perhaps, all the [Page 68] while flattering our natural indolence, which, hating the bustle of the world and drudgery of business, seeks a pretext of reason, to give itself a full and uncontroled 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 talk always of doubts, and suspense of judgment, 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 mortfied by it, except the love of truth; and that passion never is, nor can be carried to too high a degree. 'Tis surprizing, 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 [Page 69] follies, it raises to itself abundance of enemies, who stigmatize it as libertine, profane, and irreligious.

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. Tho' 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.

SUPPOSE a person, tho' 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 any thing farther. He would [Page 70] 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, and the other the effect. Their conjunction may be arbitra­ry and casual. There may be no reason to infer the existence of the 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 or fact, or be assured of any thing beyond what was immediately present to his memory and senses.

SUPPOSE again, that he has acquired more expe­rience, and has lived so long in the world as to have observed similar objects or events to be constantly conjoined together; what is the consequence of this experience? He immediately insers the existence of the one object from the appearance of the other. Yet he has not, by all his experience, acquired any idea or knowlege 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 tho' he should be convinced, that his under­standing has no part in the operation, he would ne­vertheless continue in the same course of thinking. [Page 71] There is some other principle, which determines him to form such a conclusion.

THIS principle is CUSTOM or HABIT. For where­ever 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 Custom. 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. 'Tis sufficient satisfaction, that we can go so far; without repining at the narrowness of our faculties, because they will carry us no farther. And 'tis 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, heat and flame, for instance, weight and solidity, 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 [Page 72] 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^*.

[Page 73] CUSTOM, then, is the great guide of human life. 'Tis that principle alone, which renders our expe­rience [Page 74] useful to us, and makes us expect for the fu­ture, a similar train of events with those which have [Page 75] appeared in the past. 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.

BUT here it may be proper to remark, that tho' 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 antient 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 eye-witnes­ses 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 [Page 76] 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 knowlege 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, in infinitum, 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.

WHAT then is the conclusion of the whole matter? A simple one; tho' 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 betwixt that and any other object. Or in other words; having found, in many instances, that any two kinds of objects, flame and heat, snow and cold, have always been conjoined together; if flame or snow be presented anew to our senses; the mind is carried by custom to expect heat or cold, and to believe, 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. 'Tis an opera­tion of the soul, when we are so situated, as unavoid­able as to feel the passion of love, when we receive [Page 77] 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.

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 belief, and of the customary conjunction, whence it is derived. By this means we may meet 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, tho' it be neglected.

PART II.

THERE is nothing more free than the imagination of man; and tho' it cannot exceed that original stock of ideas, which is furnished by the internal and ex­ternal [Page 78] senses, it has unlimited power of mixing, com­pounding, separating, and dividing these ideas, to 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.

IT follows, therefore, that the difference between fiction and belief 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 [Page 79] 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.

WERE we to attempt a definition 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 an 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 description of this sentiment; in hopes we [Page 80] 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, 'tis 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 colors, just as they might have existed. But as it is impossible, that that faculty of imagina­tion can ever, of itself, reach belief, 'tis evident, that belief consists not in the peculiar nature or order of ideas, but in the manner of their conception, and in their feeling to the mind. I confess, that 'tis 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 belief; which is a term, that every one sufficiently understands in com­mon life. And in philosophy, we can go no farther [Page 81] than assert, that belief is something felt by the mind, which distinguishes the ideas of the judgment from the fictions of the imagination. It gives them more force and influence; makes them appear of greater importance; inforces them in the mind; and renders them the governing principle of all 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 possest. These ideas take faster hold of my mind, than ideas of an inchanted 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.

LET us, then, take in the whole compass of this doctrine, and allow, that the sentiment of belief is nothing but a conception of an object more intense and steady than what attends the mere fictions of the imagination, and that this manner 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, [Page 82] and to trace up these phaenomena to principles still more general.

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, viz. Resemblance, Contiguity, and Causation; 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 associ­ation, we may establish this as a general law, which takes place in all the operations of the mind.

WE may, therefore, observe, as the first experi­ment to our present purpose, that, upon the appear­ance [Page 83] of the picture of an absent friend, our idea of him is evidently enlivened by the resemblance, and that every passion, which that idea occasions, whe­ther of joy or sorrow, acquires new force and vi­gor. In producing this effect, there concur both a relation and a present impression. Where the picture bears him no resemblance, or 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 'tis set before us; but when 'tis removed, ra­ther chuse to consider him directly, than by reflection in an image, which is equally distant and obscure.

THE ceremonies of the ROMAN CATHOLIC reli­gion may be considered as experiments of the same nature. The devotees of that superstition usually plead in excuse of 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 servor, which otherwise would decay, if directed intirely 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 'tis possible [Page 84] 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.

WE may add force to these experiments by others of a different kind, in considering the effects of conti­guity as well as of resemblance. 'Tis certain that di­stance diminishes the force of every idea, and that upon our approach to any object; tho' 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 'tis 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; tho' 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 [Page 85] them; that transition alone is not able to give a superior vivacity to any of the ideas, for want of some immediate impression^*.

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 re­licts 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 'tis evident, that one of the best relicts, which a devotee could procure, would be the handywork of a saint; and if his cloaths [Page 86] and furniture are ever to be considered in this light, 'tis 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.

SUPPOSE, that the son of a friend, who had been long dead or absent, were presented to us; 'tis evi­dent, that this object would instantly revive its corre­lative idea, and recal to our thoughts all past intima­cies and familiarities in more lively colors than they would otherwise have appeared to us. This is ano­ther phaenomenon, which seems to prove the principle above-mentioned.

WE may observe, that in these phaenomena the belief of the correlative object is always pre-sup­posed; without which the relation could have no ef­fect in enlivening the idea. The influence of the picture supposes, that we believe our friend to have once existed. Contiguity to home can never excite our ideas of home, unless we believe 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 [Page 87] 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 tho' 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 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 'tis 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.

HERE is a kind of pre-established harmony be­tween the course of nature and the succession of our [Page 88] ideas; and tho' 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 admirable 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, nor employ our natural powers, either to the producing of good, or avoiding of evil. Those, who delight in the discovery and contemplation of fi­nal causes, have here ample subject to employ their wonder and admiration.

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 vice versa, 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. 'Tis more conformable [Page 89] to the ordinary wisdom of nature of 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 labored 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; tho' we are ignorant of those powers and forces, on which this regular course and succes­sion of objects totally depends.

PART I.

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 desined 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 [Page 98] the passions, tho' really in themselves distinct, easily escape us, when surveyed by reflection; nor is it in our power to recall 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.

ONE may safely, however, affirm, that, if we con­sider these sciences in a proper light, their advantages and disadvantages very 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 scarce 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 thro' a few steps, we may be very well satisfied with our progress; consi­dering [Page 99] how soon nature throws a bar to all our in­quiries 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 any conclu­sion. And perhaps, our progress in natural philo­sophy is chiefly retarded by the want of proper expe­riments and phaenomena, which often are discovered by chance, and cannot always be found, when requi­site, even by the most diligent and prudent inquiry. As moral philosophy seems hitherto to have received less improvements 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.

THERE are no ideas, which occur in metaphysics, more obscure and uncertain, than those of power▪ force, energy, or necessary connexion, 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.

[Page 100] 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 'tis impossible for us to think of any thing, which we have not antecedently felt, either by our external or internal senses. I have endeavoured^* 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 ever 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 [Page 101] as to fall readily under our apprehension, and be equally known with the grossest and most sensible ideas, which can be the object of our inquiry.

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.

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 outward senses. The mind feels no sentiment or inward 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.

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 [Page 102] experience, and might, at first, pronounce with cer­tainty concerning it, by the mere dint of thought and reasoning.

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 or force, which actuates the whole machine, is intirely 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. 'Tis 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^*.

[Page 103] SINCE, therefore, external objects, as they appear to the senses, give us no idea of power or necessary connexion, by their operations 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 power in our own minds; 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 minds, in their operation. 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 minds, and on the command which is exercised by will, both over the organs of the body and faculties of the mind.

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, [Page 104] is a fact, which, like all other natural operations, 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 insallible 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 inquiry.

FOR first; 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.

[Page 105] Secondly, We are not able to move all the organs of the body with a like authority; tho' we cannot as­sign any other reason, besides experience, for so re­markable a difference betwixt one and the other. Why has the will an influence over the tongue and fingers, and not over the heart or liver? This ques­tion would never embarrass us, were we conscious of a power in the former case, and 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.

A MAN, struck suddenly with a 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 [Page 106] instructing us in the secret connexion, which binds them together, and renders them inseparable.

Thirdly, 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, thro' 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 that intended, is produced: This event produces another, equally unknown: Till at last, thro' a long succession, the desired event is produced. But if the original power were felt, it must be known: Were it known, its effect must also be known; since all power is relative to its effect. And vice versa, if the effect be not known, the power cannot be known or 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, tho' they produce at last the motion of our limbs, yet operate in such a manner as is wholly beyond our comprehension?

[Page 107] WE may, therefore, conclude from the whole, I hope, without any temerity, tho' 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^*.

SHALL We then assert, that we are conscious of a power or energy in our own minds, when, by an act [Page 108] or command of our will, we raise up a new idea, fix the mind to a 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.

First, 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, viz. The existence of an idea, confequent to a command of the will: But the manner, in which this operation is performed; the power, by which it is pro­duced; is intirely beyond our comprehension.

Secondly, THE command of the mind over itself is limited, as well as its command over the body; and [Page 109] these limits are not known by reason, or any acquaint­ance with the nature of the 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 and not in another?

Thirdly, 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 intirely unknown to us, renders the pow­er or energy of the will equally unknown and incom­prehensible?

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 any thing in it like this creative power, by which it raises from nothing a [Page 110] new idea, and with a kind of FIAT, 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.

THE generality of mankind never find any diffi­culty in accounting for the more common and familiar operations of nature; 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. 'Tis 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. 'Tis usual for men, in such difficulties, to have recourse to some invisible, intelligent principle^*, as [Page 111] 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 CONJUNCTION of objects, with­out being ever able to comprehend any thing like CONNEXION between them. 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 causes, are in reality nothing but occasions; 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; 'tis 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, [Page 112] 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 'tis 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: 'Tis 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; [Page 113] 'Tis the universal Creator of all things, who discovers it to the mind, and renders it present to us.

THUS, according to these philosophers, every thing is full of God. Not contented 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 dependance 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 operate 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.

BUT if we would have a more a philosophical confu­tation of this theory, perhaps the two following re­flections may suffice.

First, IT seems to me, that this theory of the uni­versal energy and operation of the Supreme Being, is [Page 114] too bold ever to carry conviction with it to a man who is sufficiently apprized of the weakness of human reason, and the narrow limits, to which it is confined in all its operations. Tho' 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 there we have no reason to trust our common methods of argument, or 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 intirely out of the sphere of experience. But on this we shall have oc­casion to touch afterwards^*.

Secondly, I cannot perceive any force in the argu­ments on which this theory is founded. We are ig­norant, tis true, of the manner in which bodies ope­rate on each other: Their force or energy is intirely incomprehensible. But are we not equally ignorant of the manner or force, by which a mind, even the [Page 115] 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 com prehend 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^*.

[Page 116] 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; where we observe the mo­tion of the latter to follow upon the volition of the former; but are not able to observe nor conceive the [Page 117] tye, 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, thro' all nature, any one instance of connexion, which is conceivable by us. All events seem intirely loose and separate. One event follows another; but we never can observe any tye between them. They seem conjoined, but never connected. And as we can have no idea of any thing, which never appeared to our outward sense or inward sentiment, the necessary conclusion seems 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.

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, 'tis 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 intitled to form a general rule, or foretel what will happen in like cases; it being justly esteemed an un­pardonable [Page 118] 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 to foretel the one upon the appearance of the other, and to employ that reasoning, which can alone assure us of any mat­ter of fact or existence. We then call the one object, Cause; and the other, Effect. 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.

IT appears, then, that this idea of a necessary con­nexion from 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 feel in the mind, or customary transition of the imagination from one object to its usual attendant, is the senti­ment or impression, from which we form the idea of [Page 119] power or necessary connexion. Nothing farther is in the case. Contemplate the subject on all sides, you will never find any other origin of this idea. This is the sole difference between one instance, from which we never can 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 con­nected; but only that it was conjoined with the other. After he has observed several instances of this nature, he then pronounces them to be connected. What al­teration has happened to give rise to this new idea of connexion? Nothing but that he now feels these events to be connected in his imagination, and can readily foretel 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 thoughts, 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 weakned 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.

[Page 120] 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 us to know perfectly, 'tis 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 inquiries are, therefore, every moment, employed about this relation. And yet so imperfect are the ideas which we form concern­ing it, that 'tis 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. Suitable to this experience, therefore, we may define a cause to be an object, followed by another, and where all the objects, similar to the first, are followed by ob­jects similar to the second. Or in other words, where, if the first object had not been, the second never had ex­isted. 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, suitable to this experience, form another de­finition of cause, and call it, an object followed by an­other, and whose appearance always conveys the thought [Page 121] to that other. But tho' 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, that this vibra­tion is followed by this sound, and that all similar vibra­tions have been followed by similar sounds: Or, 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. We may consider the relation of cause and effect in either of these two lights; but beyond these, we have no idea of it^*.

[Page 122] 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 [Page 123] 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 feel a new sentiment or impression, viz. 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 instance) is exactly similar to any instance that may, at present, occur to us; except on­ly, that we could not, at first, infer one event from the other; which we are enabled to do at present, after so long a course of uniform experience. I know not, if 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 [Page 124] can happily hit, we shall go farther towards illustrating the subject, than by all the eloquence and copious expression in the world. This we should endeavour to attain, and reserve the flowers of rhetoric for sub­jects, which are more adapted to them.

PART I.

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 that 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 [Page 126] to the terms employed in the controversy. For as the faculties of the soul 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. 'Tis ture; 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 oeconomy 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.

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 all mankind, both learned and ignorant, to have been always of the same opinion with regard to that subject, and that a few intelligible definitions [Page 127] 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 'tis no wonder if a sensible and polite 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 nor 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.

I HOPE, therefore, to make it appear, that all men have ever agreed in the doctrines 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.

'TIS 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 the operation of that cause. The degree and direction of every motion is, by the laws of nature, prescribed with such exactness, that a living creature [Page 128] 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 necessity, we must consider, whence that idea arises, when we apply it to the ope­ration of bodies.

IT seems evident, that, if all the scenes of nature were shifted continually 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 know­lege of any real existence could possibly have access to the mind. Our idea, therefore, of necessity and cau­sation arises entirely from that 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. [Page 129] Beyond the constant conjunction of similar ob­jects, and the consequent inference from one to the other, we have no notion of any necessity, or con­nexion.

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 the 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.

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 produce always 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 thro' society, have been, from the beginning of the world, and still are, the sources of all the actions and enterprizes, which have ever been observed among mankind. Would you know the sentiments, incli­nations, and course of life of the GREEKS and RO­MANS? [Page 130] Study well the temper and actions of the FRENCH and ENGLISH. You cannot be much mis­taken in transferring to the former most 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 if only to dis­cover the constant and universal principles of human nature, by shewing 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.

SHOULD a traveller, returning from a far country, bring us an account of men, entirely different from any, with whom we were ever acquainted; men, who [Page 131] were entirely divested of avarice, ambition, or re­venge; who knew no pleasure but friendship, gene­rosity, and publick spirit; we should immediately, from these circumstances, detect the falshood, 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 suspicious, 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 acknowlege an uniformity in human mo­tives and actions as well as in the operations of body.

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 knowlege of mens inclinations and motives, from their actions, expressions, and even gestures; [Page 132] and again, descend to the interpretation of their ac­tions from our knowlege of their motives and inclina­tions. The general observations, treasured up by a course of experience, give us the clue of human na­ture, and teaches us to unravel all its intricacies. Pre­texts and appearances no longer deceive us. Public declarations pass for the specious colouring of a cause. And tho' virtue and honour be allowed their proper weight and authority, that perfect disinterestedness, so often pretended, 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 anomolous, 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 antient 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?

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, should always act precisely in the same manner, with­out [Page 133] 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.

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? 'Tis from 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 an uniformity in their influence, other­wise our acquaintance with the persons, and our ob­servation of their conduct could never teach us their dispositions, nor serve to direct our behaviour with regard to them.

[Page 134] 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 judgment should be formed of such irregular and extraordinary actions; we may consider the sen­timents that are 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.

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; tho' 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 'tis 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, [Page 135] 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 commonly does not not go right: But an artizan 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.

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 causes; the philosopher and physician are not surprized at the matter, nor are ever tempted to deny, in general, the necessity and uniformity of those principles, by which the animal oeconomy 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 [Page 136] 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.

THE philosopher, if he be consistent, must apply the same reasonings 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 tooth-ake, 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; tho' it be applicable, in a more particular manner, to some persons, who have no fixed rule for their conduct, but proceed in a con­tinued cours of caprice and inconstancy. The in­ternal principles and motives may operate in an uni­form manner, notwithstanding these seeming irregu­larities; in the same manner as the winds, rain, clouds, and other variations of the weather are sup­posed [Page 137] to be governed by steady principles; tho' not easily discoverable by human sagacity and enquiry.

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 acknowleged 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 al­ways to have been conjoined; it may seem superflu­ous to prove, that this experienced uniformity in human actions is the source of all the inferences, which we form concerning them. But in order to throw the argument into a greater variety of lights, we shall also insist, tho' briefly, on this latter topic.

THE mutual dependance of men is so great, in all societies, that scarce any human action is entirely compleat 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 the enjoyment of the fruits of his labour. He also ex­pects, that, when he carries his goods to market, and [Page 138] offers them at a reasonable price, he shall find buyers; 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 their 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, which 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 surprized, 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?

NOR have philosophers ever entertained a different opinion from the people in this particular. For not [Page 139] 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 history, had we not a depen­dence on the veracity of the historian, according to the experience, which we have had of mankind? How could politics be a science, if laws and forms of go­vernment had not an uniform influence upon society? Where would be the foundation of morals, if particu­lar characters had no certain nor determinate power to produce particular sentiments, and if these senti­ments had no constant operations on actions? And with what pretext could we employ our criticism 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 acknowleging the doctrine of necessity, and this inference from motives to voluntary actions; from characters to conduct.

AND indeed, when we consider how aptly natural and moral 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 from the obstinacy of the gaoler, [Page 140] as from the walls and bars, with which he is sur­rounded; and in all attempts for his freedom, chuses 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 ax 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 physical neces­sity. The same experienced union has the same effect on the mind, whether the united objects be motives, volitions, and actions; or figure and motion. We may change the names of things; but their nature and their operation on the understanding never change.

I HAVE frequently considered, what could possibly be the reason, why all mankind, tho' they have ever without hesitation, acknowleged the doctrine of ne­cessity, in their whole practice and reasoning, have [Page 141] yet discovered such a reluctance to acknowlege it in words, and have rather shewn 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 bodies and the production of effects from their causes, we shall find, that all our faculties can never carry us farther in our knowlege of this relation, than barely to ob­serve, that particular objects are constantly conjoined to­gether, and that the mind is carried, by a customary transition, from the appearance of one to the belief of the other. But tho' 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 feel no such connexion of the motive and the action; they are apt, from thence, to suppose, that there is a difference between the effects, resulting 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 constant conjunction of ob­jects, and the consequent inference of the mind from one to another, and finding, that these two circum­stances are universally acknowleged to have place in voluntary actions; we may thence be more easily led [Page 142] to own the same necessity common to all causes. And tho' 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 senti­ments. 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 a connexion which has not place in the 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.

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, viz. 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, [Page 143] the whole of that necessity, which we can conceive in matter, and if these circumstances be also univer­sally acknowleged to take place in the operations of the mind, the dispute is at an end; or, 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 dispute 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 mateiral causes; and to convince ourselves, that all we know of them, is, the constant conjunction and inference above-mentioned. We may, perhaps, find, that 'tis 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 'tis evident, that these have a regular conjunction with motives and circumstances and characters, and as we always draw inferences from the one to the other, we must be obliged to acknowlege, in words, that ne­cessity, which we have already avowed, in every deliberation of our lives, and in every step of our conduct and behaviour^*.

[Page 144] BUT to proceed in this reconciling project with re­gard to the question of liberty and necessity; the [Page 145] 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 the one does not follow with a certain degree of uni­formity from the other, and that the one affords no inference, from which we can conclude the existence of the other. For these are plain and acknowleged matters of fact. By liberty, then, we can only mean a power of acting or not acting, according to the deter­minations of the will; that is, if we chuse to remain at rest, we may; if we chuse to move, we also may. Now this hypothetical liberty is universally allowed to belong to every body, who is not a prisoner and in chains. Here then is no subject of dispute.

[Page 146] WHATEVER definition we may give of liberty, we should be careful to observe two requisite circum­stances; first, that it be consistent with plain matter of fact; secondly, 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.

'TIS 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, any where, a being in nature. But 'tis pretended that some causes are ne­cessary, and some are not necessary. Here then is the admirable advantage of definitions. Let any one define a cause, without comprehending, as a part of the definition, a necessary connexion with its effect; and let him shew distinctly the origin of the idea, ex­pressed by the definition; and I shall frankly 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 [Page 147] synonimous to the term, which he endeavours to de­fine^*. 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.

PART II.

THERE is no method of reasoning more common, and yet none more blameable, than in philosophical debates, to endeavour the refutation of any hypothesis, by a pretext of its dangerous consequences to religion and morality. When any opinion leads into absurdi­ties, 'tis certainly false; but 'tis not certain that an opi­nion is false, because 'tis 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 [Page 148] in general, without pretending to draw any ad­vantage from it. I submit frankly 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 and religion, but are absolutely essential to the support of them.

NECESSITY may be defined two ways, conformable to the two definitions of cause, 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, tho' tacitly, in the schools, in the pulpit, and in common life, been allowed to belong to the will of man; and no man has ever pretended to deny, that we can draw infe­rences concerning human actions, and that those in­ferences are founded in 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 ac­knowleged, [Page 149] 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 every one 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.

ALL laws being founded on rewards and punish­ments, 'tis 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 'tis usually conjoined with the action, it must be esteemed a cause, and be looked upon as an instance of that necessity, which we would here establish.

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, 'tis 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 cause in the cha­racters and disposition of the person who performed [Page 150] 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, 'tis 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 charracter any way 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.

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, tho' 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 [Page 151] for? but by asserting, that actions render a person criminal, merely as they are proofs of criminal prin­ciples in the mind; and when, by any 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.

IT will be equally easy to prove, and from the same arguments, that liberty, 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 sentiments, so far only as they are indications of the internal cha­racter, passions, and affections; 'tis 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.

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 [Page 152] from the original cause of all, to every single volition of every human creature. No contingency any where 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 acknowleged 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 are 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 clearest and most 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 [Page 153] those actions of men, which we so rashly pronounce criminal. And we must conclude, therefore, 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 that criminal actions render criminal the original cause, if the connexion between them be necessary and ine­vitable.

THIS objection consists of two parts, which we shall examine separately; First, that if human actions can be traced up, by a necessary chain, to the Deity, they can never be criminal; on account of the infinite per­fection of that Being, from whom they are derived, and who can intend nothing but what is altogether good and laudable. Or Secondly, if they be criminal, we must retract the attribute of perfection, which we ascribe to the Deity, and must acknowlege him to be the ultimate author of guilt and moral trupitude in all his creatures.

THE answer to the first objection seems obvious and convincing. There are many philosophers, who, af­ter an exact scrutiny of all the phaenomena of nature, conclude, that the WHOLE, considered as one system, [Page 154] is, in every period of its existence, ordered with per­fect benevolence; and that the utmost possible hap­piness will, in the end, result to every created being, without any mixture of positive or absolute ill and 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 antient Stoics 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 tho' 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, thro' the proper canals, to the nerves and sinews, 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 tho' un­disturbed by the emotions of pain or passion; much [Page 155] less can they maintain their ground, when attacked by such powerful antagonists. The affections take a narrower and more natural survey of their objects, and by an oeconomy, 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. The case is the same with moral as with physical 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 its 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 we may reasonably presume, that the moral sentiments arise, either mediately or im­mediately, from a reflection on these opposite interests. What tho' philosophical meditations establish a diffe­rent opinion or conjecture; that every thing 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, [Page 156] as those which more directly promote its hap­piness and welfare? Are such remote and uncertain speculations able to counter-balance 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 any way diminished by these sublime reflections? Why then should his moral resentment against the crime be supposed incompatible with them? Or why should not the acknowlegement 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 controled nor altered by any philoso­phical theory or speculation whatsoever.

THE second 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 it embraces, it must find itself involved in inextricable difficulties, and even contradictions, at every step which it takes with re­gard to such subjects. To reconcile the indifference and contingency of human actions with prescience; [Page 157] or to defend absolute decrees, and yet free the Deity from being the author of sin, has been found hitherto to exceed all the skill 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 enow to employ her enquiries, without launch­ing into so boundless an ocean of doubt, uncertainty, and contradiction!

PART I.

THERE is in Dr. TILLOTSON's writings an argument against the real presence, which is as concise, and elegant, and strong as any argument can possibly be supposed against a doctrine, that is so little worthy of a serious refutation. 'Tis acknowleged 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 eye­witnesses to those miracles of our Saviour, by which he proved his divine mission. Our evidence, then, for the truth of the Christian 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 'tis evident it must diminish in passing from them to their disciples; nor can any one be so certain of [Page 168] the truth of their testimony, as of 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, tho' 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.

NOTHING is so convenient as a decisive argument of this kind, which must at least silence the most ar­rogant bigotry and superstition, and free us from their impertinent sollicitations. 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.

THO' experience be our only guide in reasoning concerning matters of fact; it must be acknow­leged, that this guide is not altogether infallible, but in some cases is apt to lead us into errors and [Page 169] mistakes. One, who, in our climate, should expect better weather in any week of JUNE than in one of DECEMBER, would reason justly and conformable to experience; but 'tis 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.

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 proof 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 greatest number of experiments: To that side he inclines, with doubt and hesitation; and when at last he fixes his judgment▪ [Page 170] the evidence exceeds not what we properly call pro­bability. All probability, then, supposes an opposi­tion of experiments and observations; where the one side is found to over-balance the other, and to pro­duce a degree of evidence, proportioned to the su­periority. An hundred instances or experiments on one side, and fifty on another, afford a very doubtful expectation of any event; tho' 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.

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 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 [Page 171] all the inferences, which we can draw from one to another, are founded merely on our experience of their constant and regular conjunction; 'tis evident, that we ought not to make an exception to this maxim in favour of human testimony, whose con­nexion with any events 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 falshood and villainy, has no manner of authority with us.

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 proof or a probability, according as the conjunction between any particular kind of report and any kind of objects, has been found to be con­stant or variable. There are a number of circum­stances to be taken into consideration in all judg­ments 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, 'tis attended with an unavoid­able contrariety in our judgments, and with the same [Page 172] opposition and mutual destruction of arguments 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 forec of its anta­gonist.

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 suspicious character; when they have an interest in what they affirm; when they deliver their testimony with doubt and 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.

SUPPOSE, for instance, that the fact, which tes­timony endeavours to establish, partakes of the ex­traordinary and the marvellous; in that case, the evi­dence, resulting from the testimony, admits a dimi­nution, [Page 173] 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 from any con­nex on, which we perceive à priori 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 contradiction there necessarily arise a counter­poize, and mutual destruction of belief and autho­rity.

I should not believe such a story were it told me by CATO; was a proverbial saying in ROME, even du­ring the life-time of that philosophical patriot^*. The incredibility of a fact, it was allowed, might invalidate so great an authority.

THE INDIAN prince, who refused to believe the first relations concerning the effects of frost, reasoned [Page 174] justly; and it naturally required very strong testimony to engage his assent to facts, which arose from a state of nature, with which he was unacquainted, and bore so little analogy to those events, of which he had had constant and uniform experience. Tho' they were not contrary to his experience, they were not con­formable to it^*.

[Page 175] BUT in order to increase 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.

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. 'Tis no miracle that a man in seeming good health should die on a sudden; because such a kind of death, tho' more unusual than any other, has yet been frequently observed to happen. But 'tis a miracle, that a dead man should come to life; because that has never been [Page 176] observed, in any age or country. There must, there­fore, be an uniform experience against every miracu­lous event, otherwise the event would not merit that appellation. And as an uniform experience amounts to a proof there is here a direct and full proof, 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^*.

[Page 177] THE plain consequence is (and 'tis 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 falshood 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 any one 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 falshood 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.

[Page 178] IN the foregoing reasoning we have supposed, that the testimony, upon which a miracle is founded, may possibly amount to an intire proof, and that the fals­hood of that testimony would be a kind of prodigy. But 'tis easy to shew, that we have been a great deal too liberal in our concessions, and that there never was a miraculous event established on so full an evi­dence.

FOR first, 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 being detected in any falshood; 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.

SECONDLY. We may observe in human nature a principle, which, if strictly examined, will be found to diminish extremely the assurance which we might have, from human testimony, in any kind of prodigy. [Page 179] The maxim, by which we commonly conduct our­selves in our reasonings, is, that the objects, of which we have no experience, resemble those, of which we have: that what we have sound 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 of them as are founded on the greatest number of past observations. But tho' 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 any thing is affirmed utterly ab­surd and miraculous, it rather the more readily admits such a fact, upon account of that very circumstance which ought to destroy all its authority. The passion of surprize and wonder, 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.

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 [Page 180] 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 narration 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 no 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 judgment to canvass his evidence: What judgment 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 over-powers their credulity.

ELOQUENCE, when in its highest pitch, leaves little room for reason or reflection; but addressing it­self intirely to the fancy or the affections, captivates the willing hearers, and subdues their understanding. Happily, this pitch it seldom attains. But what a CICERO or a DEMOSTHENES could scarcely operate over a ROMAN or ATHENIAN audience, every Capu­chin, every itinerant or stationary teacher can perform [Page 181] over the generality of mankind, and in a higher de­gree, by touching such gross and vulgar passions^*.

THIRDLY. It forms a very 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 [Page 182] 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, pestilences, famines, and death, are never the effects of those natural cau­ses, which we experience. Prodigies, omens, ora­cles, judgments, 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 of science and knowlege, 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 tho' this inclination may at intervals receive a check from sense and learning, it can never tho­roughly be extirpated from human nature.

'Tis strange, a judicious reader is apt to say, upon the perusal of these wonderful historians, that such prodigious events never happen in our days. But 'tis no­thing strange, I hope, that men should lie in all ages. You must surely have seen instances enow 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 [Page 183] 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.

'TWAS a wise policy in that cunning impostor, ALEXANDER, who, tho' 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 inquiry, have no opportunity of receiving better information. The stories come magnified to them by a hundred circumstances. Fools are indus­trious to propagate the delusion; 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 inlisting 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.

THE advantages are so great of starting an impos­ture among an ignorant people, that even tho' the de­lusion [Page 184] should be too gross to impose on the generality of them (which, tho' seldom, is sometimes the case) it has a much better chance of succeeding in remote countries, than if the first scene had been laid in a city renowned for arts and knowlege. The most ig­norant and barbarous of these barbarians carry the re­port abroad. None of their countrymen have large enough correspondence of sufficient credit and autho­rity to contradict and beat down the delusion. Mens 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, thro' 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 intirely opened the eyes of mankind. 'Tis true; LUCIAN passing by chance thro' PAPHLAGONIA had an opportunity of performing this good office. But, tho' much to be wished, it does not always happen, that every ALE­XANDER meets with a LUCIAN, ready to expose and detect his impostures^†.

[Page 185] I MAY add as a fourth 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 the testimony, but even 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 'tis impossible the reli­gions of antient 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, tho' 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 [Page 186] 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 any of 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 miracles 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 miracles 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.

ONE of the best attested miracles in all prophane 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 and extraordinary [Page 187] cures. The story may be seen in that fine historian^*; 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, thro' the whole course of his life, conversed in a familiar way 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 superstition and credulity, that he even lies under the contrary imputation, of atheism and prophane­ness: The persons, from whose testimony he related the miracle, of established character for judgment and veracity, as we may well presume; eye-witnesses of the fact, and confirming their verdict, after the FLA­VIAN family were despoiled of the empire, and could no longer give any reward, as the price of a lie. Utrumque, qui interfuere, nunc quoque memorant, post­quam nullum mendacio pretium. To which if we add the public nature of the facts, as related, it will ap­pear, [Page 188] that no evidence can well be supposed stronger for so gross and so palpable a falshood.

THERE is also a very memorable story related by Cardinal DE RETZ, and which may well deserve our consideration. When that intriguing politician fled into SPAIN, to avoid the persecution of his enemies, he passed thro' SARAGOSSA, the capital of ARRA­GON, where he was shewn, in the cathedral, a man, who had served twenty years as a door-keeper, and was well known to every body in town, that had ever paid their 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 singular a nature as could scarce 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 surprize on this occasion, is, that the cardinal himself, who relates the story, seems not [Page 189] 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 falshood, thro' 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 falshood 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.

THERE surely never was so great a number of mi­racles ascribed to one person, as those, which were lately said to have been wrought in FRANCE upon the tomb of Abbé 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 [Page 190] 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 Jesuits, tho' 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^*. Where [Page 191] shall we find such a number of circumstances, agreeing to the corroboration of one fact? And what have we [Page 192] to oppose to such a cloud of witnesses, but the abso­lute impossibility or miraculous nature of the events, [Page 193] which they relate? And this surely, in the eyes of all reasonable people, will alone be regarded as a suffi­cient refutation.

[Page 194] IS the consequence just, because some human tes­timony has the utmost force and authority in some cases, when it relates the battles 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 [Page 195] by HERODOTUS or PLUTARCH, and those delivered by MARIANA, BEDE, or any monkish historian.

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?

THE smallest spark may here kindle into the great­est flame; because the materials are always prepared for it. The avidum genus auricularum ^†, the gazing populace receive greedily, without examination, what­ever sooths superstition, and promotes wonder.

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 phaenomenon is obvious; and we judge in confor­mity [Page 196] 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?

I NEED not mention the difficulty of detecting a falshood in any private or even public history, at the time and place, where it is said to happen; much more where the scene is removed to ever so small a distance. Even a court of judicature, with all the authority, accuracy, and judgment, which they can employ, find themselves often at a loss to distinguish between truth and falshood in the most recent actions. But the matter never comes to any issue, if trusted to the common method of altercation and debate and flying rumours; especially when mens passions have taken party on either side.

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 gone, and the records and witnesses, which might clear up the matter, have perished beyond recovery.

[Page 197] NO means of detection remain, but those which must be drawn from the very testimony itself of the reporters: And these, tho' always sufficient with the judicious and knowing, are commonly too fine to fall under the comprehension of the vulgar.

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. 'Tis experience only, which gives authority to hu­man testimony; and 'tis 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 intire 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^*.

[Page 198] I AM the better pleased with this method of rea­soning, as I think it may serve to confound those [Page 199] dangerous friends or disguised enemies to the Christ­ian Religion, who have undertaken to defend it by [Page 200] the principles of human reason. Our most holy reli­gion is founded on Faith, not on reason; and 'tis 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 Pentateuch, 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 [Page 201] by a barbarous and ignorant people, wrote 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 intirely 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, a 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 se­rious consideration declare, whether he thinks, that the falshood 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.

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 foretel future events, it would be absurd to employ any prophecy [Page 202] as an argument for a divine mission or authority from heaven. So that, upon the whole, we may conclude, that the Christian Religion 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 Faith 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.

PART I.

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 Atheists; 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 knight­errants, who wandered about to clear the world of dragons and giants, never entertained the least doubt with regard to the existence of these monsters.

THE Sceptic is another enemy of religion, who na­turally provokes the indignation of all divines and graver philosophers; tho' 'tis certain, that no man ever met with any such absurd creature, or conversed with a man, who had no opinion or principle con­cerning [Page 228] 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?

THERE is a species of scepticism, antecedent to all study and philosophy, which is much inculcated by DES CARTES and others, as a sovereign preserva­tive against error and precipitate judgment. 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 these 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.

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 [Page 229] impartiality in our judgments, 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; tho' by this 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.

THERE is another species of scepticism, consequent to science and enquiry, where 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.

[Page 230] I NEED not insist upon the more trite topics, em­ployed by the sceptics in all ages, against the evidence of sense; such as those 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 implicitely 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 criteria of truth and falshood. There are other more profound arguments against the senses, which admit not of so easy a solution.

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, tho' 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.

[Page 231] 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 annihilates it not. It preserves its existence uniform and entire, indepen­dent of the situation of intelligent beings, who per­ceive or contemplate it.

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, thro' which these images are re­ceived, without being ever 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, this house and that tree are nothing but perceptions in the [Page 232] mind, and fleeting copies or representations of other existences, which remain uniform and independent.

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 evidences of our senses. But here philosophy finds itself extremely embarrassed, when it would justify this new system, and obviate the cavils and objections of the sceptics. It 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.

BY what argument can it be proved, that the per­ceptions of the mind must be caused by external ob­jects, entirely different from them, tho' 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? 'Tis ac­knowledged, that, in fact, many of these perceptions arise not from any thing 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 [Page 233] image of itself to a substance supposed of so different, and even contrary a nature.

'TIS 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 any thing 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.

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 doubt, we shall be at a loss to find arguments, by which we may prove the existence of that Being or any of his attributes.

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 knowlege and enquiry.

[Page 234] 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.

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 serve so little any serious purpose. 'Tis universally allowed by modern enquiers, that all the sensible qualities of objects, such as hard, soft, hot, cold, white, black, &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; [Page 235] 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 Abstraction; which, if we examine 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 Isoceles, nor Scalenum, nor has any particular length nor pro­portion of sides; and he will soon perceive the ab­surdity of all the scholastic notions with regard to ab­straction and general ideas^*.

[Page 236] 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.

PART II.

IT may seem a very extravagant attempt of the sceptics to destroy reason 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.

THE chief objection against all abstract 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 thro' 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 dogmas, invented on purpose to tame and [Page 237] subdue the rebellious reason of mankind, ever shocked common sense more than the doctrine of the infinite 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, in infinitum; 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^*. 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 [Page 238] 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 encrease the diameter of the circle in infinitum, this angle of contact be­comes still less, even in infinitum, 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, in infinitum? 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; tho' 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 he 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 scarce can pro­nounce with certainty and assurance concerning any one object.

THE absurdity of these bold determinations of the abstract sciences seems to become, if possible, still more palpable with regard to time than extension. [Page 239] 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 judgment is not corrupted, instead of being improved, by the sciences, would ever be able to admit of it.

YET still reason must remain restless and unquiet, even with regard to that scepticism, to which she is led 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^*.

[Page 240] THE sceptical objections to moral evidence, or to the reasonings concerning matter of fact are either popular or philosophical. 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 judgment 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. 'Tis 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 [Page 241] from thence, must be insufficient to destroy that evidence. The great subverter of Pyrrhonism 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 smoak, and leave the most determined sceptic in the same condition as other mortals.

THE sceptic, therefore, had better keep in his pro­per sphere, and display those philosophical 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 cojoined together; that we have no arguments to convince us, that object, 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 inserence 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 [Page 242] upon these topics, he shews 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.

FOR here is the chief and most confounding objec­tion to excessive 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, What his meaning is? And what he proposes by all these curious researches? 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 only be durable, but which have a mighty effect on conduct and behaviour. But a PYRRHONIAN cannot propose 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 acknowlege, if he will acknowlege any thing, 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 [Page 243] their miserable existence. 'Tis true; so fatal an event is very little to be dreaded. Nature is always too strong for principle. And tho' 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 amusements, and can have no other tendency than to show the whimsical condition of mankind, who must act and reason and believe; tho' 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.

PART III.

THERE is, indeed, a more mitigated scepticism or academical philosophy, which may be both durable and useful, and which may, in part, be the result of this PYRRHONISM, or excessive scepticism, when its undistinguished doubts are, in some measure, corrected by common sense and reflexion. The greatest part of [Page 244] 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 arguments, 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 understandings, checks their passion, and suspends their actions. They are, therefore, im­patient till they escape from a state, which to them is so uneasy; and they think, that they can 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 are inclined, from their natural temper, to haughtiness and obstinacy, a small tincture of PYRRHONISM may abate their pride, by showing them, that the few advantages, which they may have attained over their fellows, are but incon­siderable, [Page 245] 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.

ANOTHER species of mitigated 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 imagination of man is naturally sublime, delighted with whatever is remote and extraordinary, and running, without controul, 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 judgment 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 any thing 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, [Page 246] 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 determinations which we may form with regard to the origin of worlds, and the situation of nature, from, and to enternity?

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 to their objects, in order to recommend it to us. We shall then find what are the proper subjects of science and enquiry.

IT seems to me, that the only objects of the ab­stract sciences or of demonstration are quantity and number, and that all attempts to extend this more perfect species of knowlege 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 [Page 247] can be more curious, as well as useful, than to trace, by a variety of mediums, their equality or inequality, thro' their different appearances. But as all other ideas are clearly distinct and different from each other, we can never advance farther, by all our 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 the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other two sides, 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, that where there is no property, there can be no injustice, 'tis only neces­sary to define the terms, and explain injustice to be a violation of property. This proposition is, indeed, nothing but a more imperfect desinition. 'Tis 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 knowlege and demonstration.

ALL other enquiries of men regard only matter of fact and existence; and these are evidently incapable of demonstration. Whatever is may not be. No ne­gation of a fact can involve a contradiction. The non-existence of any being, without exception, is as [Page 248] 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.

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 à priori, any thing may appear able to produce any thing. The falling of a pebble may, for aught we know, extinguish the sun; or the wish of a man controul the planets in their orbits. 'Tis only experience, which teaches us the nature and bounds of cause and effect, and enables us to inser the existence of one object from that of another^*. [Page 249] Such is the foundation of moral reasoning, which forms the greatest part of human knowlege, and is the source of all human action and behaviour.

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.

THE sciences, which treat of general facts, are po­lities, natural philosophy, physic, chymistry, &c. where the qualities, causes, and effects of a whole species of objects are enquired into.

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 rea­son, so far as it is supported by experience. But its best and most solid foundation is faith and divine revelation.

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, viz. the general taste of mankind, or some such fact, which may be the object of reasoning and enquiry.

[Page 250] 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, Does it contain any ab­stract reasonings concerning quantity of number? No. Does it contain any experimental reasonings concerning matters of fact or existence? No. Commit it then to the flames: For it can contain nothing but sophistry and illusion.