Skip to main content

Full text of "Essays and treatises on several subjects"

See other formats


Stom  f^e  &i6rar|?  of 

in  (^emori?  of 
3ubge  ^amuef  (HHifPer  (jSrecftinrib^e 

(Jpreecnte^  6g 

^atnuef  (gtiffer  QSrecftinrtb^e  feong 

to  f^  EiBrarg  of 

(Princeton  ^^^eofogtcaf  ^eminarj? 


y,  2 


I 


ESSAYS 

AND 

TREATISE 

O  N 

SEVERAL    SUBJECTS. 
By  DAVID  HUME,   Efq; 
VOL.    II. 
CONTAINING,  / 


An    E  N  QJJ  I  R  Y    concerning    HUMAN 
UNDERSTANDING; 

A  DISSERTATION  on  the  PASSIONS; 

An  ENQJJIRY    concerning    the  PRINCIPLES 
of  MORALS; 

AND 

The    NATURAL    HISTORY    of  RELIGION. 


A    NEW    EDITION. 


DUBLIN: 

Printed  by  J.  Williams,   [No.  21,]  Siinner-Roiv, 


/ 


M,DCC,LXXIX. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2011  with  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


i 

http://www.archive.org/details/essaystreatiseso02hume        , 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


IVX  O  S  T  of  the  principles,  and  reafonings,  con- 
tained in  this  volume,  were  publifhed  in  a  work  in 
three  volumes,  called  A  Treatife  of  Human  Nature  : 
A  work  which  the  Author  had  projefted  before  he 
left  College,  and  which  he  wrote  and  publifhed 
not  long  after.  But  not  finding  it  fuccefsful,  he 
was  fenfible  of  his  error  in  going  to  the  prefs  too 
early,  and  he  call  the  whole  anew  in  the  following 
pieces,  where  fome  negligences  in  his  former  rea- 
foning,  and  more  in  the  expreflion,  are,  he  hopes, 
correfled.  Yet  feveral  writers,  who  have  honoured 
the  Author's  Phllofophy  with  anfwers,  have  taken 
care  to  diredl  all  their  batteries  againfb  that  juve- 
nile work,  which  the  Author  never  acknowledged, 
and  have  affected  to  triumph  in  any  advantages, 
which,  they  imagined,  they  had  obtained  over  it  : 
A  practice  very  contrary  to  all  rules  of  candour  and 
fair-dealing,  and  a  ftrong  infhance  of  thofe  pole- 
mical artifices,  wiiich  a  bigotted  zeal  thinks  itfelf 
authorifed  to  employ.  Henceforth,  the  Author 
defires,  that  the  following  Pieces  may  alone  be  re- 
garded as  containing  his  philofophical  fentiments 
and  principles. 


A  a 


THE 

CONT    E    NTS 

O  F    T  H  E 

SECOND      VOLUME. 


An   ENQJJIRY   concerning   HUMAN 
UNDERSTANDING. 

Sedlion  Page 

I.  V-/F  the  different  Species  of  Philofophy  3 
II.  Of  the  Origin  of  Ideas  17 

III.  Of  the  AfTociation  of  Ideas  23 

IV.  Sceptical  Doubts  concerning  the  Operati- 

ons of  the  Underftanding  27 

V.  Sceptical  Solution  of  thefe  Doubts  45 

VI.  Of  Probability  61 

VII.  Of  the  Idea  of  neceflary  Connexion  65 

VIII.  Of  Liberty  and  Neceffity  85 

IX.  Of  the  Reafon  of  Animals  11 1 

X.  Of  Miracles  117 

XI.  Of  a  particular  Providence  and  of  a  future 

State  141 

XII.  Of  the  academical  or  fceptical  Philofohy  159 

A  Diflertation  on  the  PalTions  I77 

An 


CONTENTS. 

An  ENQUIRY  concerning  the  PRINCIPLES 
Of  MORALS. 

Seftion  Page 

I.  V>/F  the  general  Principles  of  Morals  215 

II.  Of  Benevolence  223 

III.  Of  Juftice  231 

IV.  Of  political  Society  253 
V.  Why  Utility  pleafes  261 

VI.  Of  Qualities  ufeful  to  Ourfelves  281 

VII.  Of  Qualities  immediately  agreeable  to  Our- 
felves 299 
VIII.  Of  Qualities    immediately    agreeable    to 
Others                                                    311 
IX.  Conclufion                                              319 

APPENDIX. 

I.  Concerning  moral  Sentiment  337 

II.  Of  Self-love  349 

III.  Some  farther  Confiderations  with  regard  to 

Juftice  357 

IV.  Of  fome  verbal  Difputes  2^^ 
A  Dialogue  377 

The  NATURAL  HISTORY  of  RELIGION. 

Section  Page 

Introdudlion  401 

I.     X  HAT    Polytheifm    was   the   primary 

Religion  of  Men  402 

II.  Origin  of  Polytheifm  407 

III.  The  fame  Subjedl  continued  410 

IV.  Deities   not  confidered  as  Creators  or  For- 

mers of  the  World  415 

V.  Various 


CONTENTS. 

Section 

V.  Various  Forms  of  Polytheifm :    Allegory, 

Hero-Worfhip  Page  422 

VI.  Origin  of  Theifm  from  Polytheifm         426 

VII.  Contirmation  of  this  Doftrine  432 

VIII.  Flux  and  Reflux  of  Polytheifm  and  Theifm 

434 

IX.  Comparifon  of  thefe  Refigions  with  regard 

to  Perfecution  and  Toleration  436 

X.  With  regard  to  Courage  or  Abafement  440 

XI.  With  regard  to  Reafon  or  Abfurdity      441 

XII.  With  regard  to  Doubt  or  Conviction     444 

XIII.  Impious  Conceptions  of  the  divine  Nature 

in  popular  Religions  of  both  Kinds    457 

XIV.  Bad   Influence    of  popular    Religions   on 

Morality  461 

XV.  General  Corollary.  466 


AN 


A  N 


E    N    Q^  U   I   R  Y 


CONCERNING 


HUMAN 


UNDERSTANDING. 


Vol.  II.  B 


SECTION      I. 

Of  the  Different    Species  of  Philosophy. 

iVlORAL  philofophy,  or  the  fcience  of  human 
nature,  may  be   treated  after  two  different  man- 
ners ;  each   of  which  has  its  peculiar  merit,  and 
may  contribute   to  the  entertainment,    in(lru6tion, 
and  reformation  of  mankind.     The   one  confiders 
man  chiefly  as  born  for  adlion  ;  and  as  influenced 
in  his  meafures  by  tafle  and  fentiment ;    purfuing 
one  objeft,  and  avoiding  another,  according  to  the 
value  which  thefe  objeds  feem  to  poflfcfs,  and  ac- 
cording to  the  light  in  which  they  prefent  them- 
felves.     As  virtue,  of  all  objcifls,  is  allowed  to  be 
the  mofl:  valuable,  this  fpecies  of  philolbphers  paint 
her   in    the    moft  amiable   colours  -,  borrowing  all 
helps   from    poetry    and   eloquence,    and   treating 
their  fubjedt  in  an  eafy  and   obvious  manner,  and 
fuch  as    is   belt  fitted   to  pleafe  the   imagination, 
and  engage   the   affections.     They  fele6l  the  moil 
ilriking  obfervations  and   inftances  from   common 
life;  place  oppofite  chara6ters  in  a  proper  contrafl:; 
and  alluring  us  into  the  paths  of  virtue  by  the  views 
of  glory  and  happinefs,  dired  our  fteps   in   thefe 
paths  by  the  foundeft  precepts  and  mofl  illuflrious 
examples.     They  make  us  feel  the  difference  be- 
tween vice   and  virtue;  they  excite   and   regulate 
our  fentiments;  and  fo  they  can  but  bend  our  hearts 

B  2  to 


4  S    E    C     T    I     O     N       I. 

to  the  love  of  probity  and  true  honour,  they  think> 
that  they  have  fully  attained  the  end  of  all  their 
labours. 

The  other  fpecies  of  philofophers  confider   man 
in  the  light  of  a  reafonable  rather   than  an   aftivc 
being,  and  endeavour  to   form   his  underflanding 
more  than   cultivate  his    manners.      They  regard 
human   nature   as    a   fubjed   of  fpeculation  j    and 
v/ith  a  narrow  fcrutiny  examine  it,  in  order  to  find 
thofe  principles,  which  regulate  our  underftanding, 
excite  our  lentiments,    and   make    us  approve  or 
blame  any  particular  objefl,  action,  or  behaviour. 
They  think   it    a   reproach   to  all   literature,  that 
philofophy  fhould  not  yet  have  fixed,  beyond  con- 
troverfy,  the  foundation  of  morals,  reafoning,  and 
criticifm;  and  Hiould  for  ever  talk  of  truth  and 
falfehood,  vice  and  virtue,  beauty  and  deformity, 
without  being  able  to  determine  the  fource  of  thefe 
di'fbindions.     While  they  attempt  this  arduous  tafk, 
they  are  deterred  by  no  difficulties  j  but  proceed- 
ing from  particular  intlances  to  general  principles, 
they  ftill  pulh  on  their  enquiries  to  principles  more 
general,  and   reft   not  fatisfied   till  they   arrive  at 
thofe  original    principles,  by  which,  in  every  fci- 
ence,    all    human    curiofity    muft     be    bounded. 
Though  their  fpeculations  leem  abftratt,  and  even 
unintelligible   to  common  readers,  they  aim  at  the 
approbation  of  the  learned  and  the  wile;  and  think 
themfelves   fufficiently  compenfated  for  the  labour 
of  their  whole  lives,  if  they  can  difcover  fome  hid- 
den truths,  which  may  contribute  to  the  inftrudi- 
on  of  pofterity. 

It  is  certain  that  the  eafy  and  obvious  philo- 
fophy, will  always,  with  the  generality  of  man- 
kind, have  the  preference  above  the  accurate  and 
ubflrufe ;  and  by  many  v/iil  be  recommended, 
not  only  as  more  agreeable,  but  more  ufeful 
than   the   other.      It    enters    more   into   common 

lifei 


or  the  Different  Species  of  Philosophy.       5 

life  J  moulds  the  heart  and  affeftions ;  and,  by 
touching  thofe  principles  which  aftuate  men,  re- 
forms their  condudl,  and  brings  them  nearer 
to  that  model  of  perfection  which  it  defcribes. 
On  the  contrary,  the  abftrufe  philofophy,  being 
founded  on  a  turn  of  mind,  which  cannot  enter 
into  bufmefs  and  a6lion,  vanifhes  when  the  phi- 
lofopher  leaves  the  fhade,  and  comes  into  open 
day;  nor  can  its  principles  eafily  retain  any  in- 
fluence over  our  condutl  and  behaviour.  The 
feelings  of  our  heart,  the  agitation  of  our  paf- 
fions,  the  vehemence  of  our  affections,  diflipate  all 
its  conclufions,  and  reduce  the  profound  philo- 
fopher  to  a  mere  plebeian. 

This  alfo  muft  be  confeffcd,  that  the  moft  du- 
rable, as  well  as  julteft  fame,  has  been  acquired 
by  the  eafy  philofophy,  and  that  abftradt  reafon- 
ers  feem  hitherto  to  have  enjoyed  only  a  momen- 
tary reputation,  from  the  caprice  or  ignorance  of 
their  own  age,  but  have  not  been  able  to  fupporc 
their  renown  with  more  equitable  pofterity.  It 
is  eafy  for  a  profound  philofopher  to  commit  a 
miftake  in  his  fubtile  reafonings  ;  and  one  miftake 
is  the  neceiTary  parent  of  another,  while  he  pufhes 
on  his  confequences,  and  is  not  deterred  from 
embracing  any  conclufion,  by  its  unufual  appear- 
ance, or  its  contradiction  to  popular  opinion. 
But  a  philofopher,  who  purpofes  only  to  reprefenc 
the  common  fenfe  of  mankind  in  more  beautiful 
and  more  engaging  colours,  if  by  accident  he 
falls  into  error,  goes  no  farther ;  but  renewing 
his  appeal  to  common  fenfe,  and  the  natural  fen- 
timents  of  the  mind,  returns  into  the  right  path, 
and  fecures  himfelf  from  any  dangerous  illulions. 
The  fame  of  Cicero  flourifhes  at  prefent ;  but  that 
of  Aristotle  is  utterly  decayed.  La  Bruyere 
pafles  the  feas,  and  ftill  maintains  his  reputa- 
tion: But  the  glory  of  Malebranche  is  con- 
fined 


6  SECTION      I. 

fined  to  his  own  nation,  and  to  his  own  agre.     And 
Addison,    perhaps,    will    be   read   with  pleafure, 
•when  Locke  fliall  be  entirely  forgotten. 

The  mere  philofopher  is    a   chara6ler,  which  is 
commonly   but  little    acceptable  in  the  v/orld,  as 
being  fiippofed    to    contribute    nothing   either   to 
the    advantage   or   pleafure    of  fociety ;    while   he 
lives  remote  from  communication  with  mankind, 
and  is  wrapped  up  in  principles  and  notions  equally 
remote  from  their  comprehenfion.     On  the  other 
hand,  the   mere    ignorant    is  ftill   more  defpifed  j 
nor  is   any  thing  deemed    a  furr  fign   of  an  illi- 
beral genius  in    an   age  and  nation  where  the  fci- 
ences   flourifh,  than    to    be   entirely    deflitute    of 
all    relifh    for  thofe   noble   entertainments.      The 
moft:  perfcd  character  is  fuppofed  to  lie  between 
thofe    extremes ;    retaining    an   equal    ability    and 
tafte   for    books,     company,    and    bufinefs ;    pre- 
ferving  in  converfation   that  difccrnment  and  de- 
licacy which  arife  from   po'ite  letters  ;  and  in  bu- 
finefs,   that   probity   and  accuracy   which  are  the 
natural  refult  of  a  jufl;  philofophy.     In  order  to  dif- 
fufe   and   cultivate   fo    accompliflied   a    chara6ter, 
nothing  can  be   more  ufeful  than  compofitions  of 
the    eafy   Ryle  and   manner,  which    draw   not   too 
much    from  life,    require    no  deep  application  or 
retreat    to  be   comprehended,  and   fend    back  the 
ftudent   amono;   mankind   full  of  noble    fentiments 
and  .wife  precepts,    applicable   to   every  exigence 
of  human  life.     By  means    of  fuch  compofitions, 
virtue    becomes  amiable,  fcience   agreeable,  com- 
pany infcrudtive,  and  retirement  entertaining. 

Man  is  a  reafonable  being;  and  as  fuch,  re- 
ceives from  fcience  his  proper  fcod  and  nou- 
rilhment :  But  fo  narrow  are  the  bounds  of  human 
iinderftanding,  that  little  fatisfadlion  can  be  hoped 
for  in  this  particular,  either  from  the  extent  or 
fecurity  of  Iiis   acquilitions.      Man  is  a  fociable, 

no 


or  the  Different  Species  of  Philosophy.     7 

no  lefs  than  a  reafonable  being:  But  neither  can 
he  always  enjoy  company  agreeable  and  amufing, 
or  preferve  the  proper  relifh  for  them.  Man 
is  alfo  an  aftive  being;  and  from  that  difpofition, 
as  well  as  from  the  various  necelTities  of  human 
life,  mull  fubmit  to  bufinefs  and  occupation :  But 
the  mind  requires  fome  relaxation,  and  cannot  al- 
ways fupport  its  bent  to  care  and  induftry.  It 
feems,  then,  that  nature  has  pointed  out  a  mixed 
kind  of  life  as  moft  fuitable  to  human  race,  and 
fecretly  admoniflied  them  to  allow  none  of  thefe 
biafles  to  draw  too  much,  lb  as  to  incapacitate 
them  for  other  occupations  and  entertainments. 
Indulge  your  paffion  for  fcience,  fays  fhe,  but 
let  your  fcience  be  human,  and  fuch  as  may  have 
a  diredl  reference  to  aflion  and  fociety.  Ab- 
ftrufe  thought  and  profound  refearches  I  prohibit, 
and  will  feverely  punifh,  by  the  penfive  melan- 
choly which  they  introduce,  by  the  endlefs  un- 
certainty in  which  they  involve  you,  and  by  the 
cold  reception  which  your  pretended  difcoveries 
fiiall  meet  with,  when  communicated.  Be  a  phi- 
lofopheri  but,  amidft  all  your  philofophy,  be  flill 
a  man. 

Were  the  generality  of  mankind  contented  to 
prefer  the  eafy  phiiofophy  to  the  abftraft  and  pro- 
found, without  throwing  any  blame  or  contempt 
on  the  latter,  it  might  not  be  improper,  perhaps, 
to  comply  with  this  general  opinion,  and  allow 
every  man  to  enjoy,  without  oppofition,  his  own 
tafte  and  fentiment.  But  as  the  matter  is  often 
carried  farther,  even  to  the  abfolute  rejefting  of 
all  profound  reafonings,  or  what  is  commonly 
called  mctaphyficsy  we  fhall  now  proceed  to  confi- 
der  what  can  reafonably  be  pleaded  in  their  be- 
half. 

We  may  begin  with  obferving,  that  one  confi- 
derable  advantage,  which  refults  from  the  accu- 
rate and    abftraft   philofophy,  is,  its   fubferviency 

to 
3 


8  S    E    C    T    I     O    N      I. 

to  the  eafy  and  humane;  which,  without  the 
former,  can  never  attain  a  fufficient  degree  of  ex- 
adnefs  in  its  fentiments,  precepts,  or  reafonings. 
All  poJite  letters  are  nothing  but  pi<flures  of  hu- 
man life  in  various  attitudes  and  fituations ;  and 
infpire  us  with  different  fentiments,  of  praife  or 
blame,  admiration  or  ridicule,  according  to  the 
qualities  of  the  objeft,  which  they  fet  before  us. 
An  artift  muft  be  better  qualified  to  fucceed  in  this 
undertaking,  who,  befides  a  delicate  tafte  and  a 
quick  apprehenfion,  pofleircs  an  accurate  know- 
ledge of  the  internal  fabric,  the  operations  of  the 
underftanding,  the  workings  of  the  paflions,  and 
the  various  fpecies  of  fentiment  which  difcrimi- 
nate  vice  and  virtue.  How  painful  foever  this 
inward  fearch  or  enquiry  may  appear,  it  becomes, 
in  fome  meafure,  requifite  to  thofe,  who  would 
defcribe  with  fuccefs  the  obvious  and  outward  ap- 
pearances of  life  and  manners.  The  anatomiil: 
prefents  to  the  eye  the  moft  hideous  and  difagree- 
able  obje(5ls3  but  his  fcience  is  ufeful  to  the  pain- 
ter in  delineating  even  a  Venus  or  an  Helen. 
While  the  latter  employs  all  the  richeft  colours 
of  his  art,  and  gives  his  figures  the  moll  grace- 
ful and  engaging  airs ;  he  muft  ftill  carry  his  at- 
tention to  the  inward  itrudure  of  the  human  body, 
the  pofition  of  the  mufcles,  the  fabric  of  the  bones, 
and  the  ufe  and  figure  of  every  part  or  organ. 
Accuracy  is,  in  every  cafe,  advantageous  to  beau- 
ty, and  juft  reafoning  to  delicate  fentiment.  In 
-vain  would  we  exalt  the  one  by  depreciating  the 
other. 

Befides,  we  may  obferve,  in  every  art  or  pro- 
fefiion,  even  thofe  which  moft  concern  life  or  ac- 
tion, that  a  fpirit  of  accuracy,  however  acquired, 
carries  all  of  them  nearer  their  perfedion,  and 
renders  them  more  fubfervient  to  the  intercfts  of 
fociety.  And  though  a  philofopher  may  live  re- 
ivjote  from  bufinefs,  the  genius   of  philofophy,  if 

carcfullv 


Of  the  Different  Species  of  Philosophy.     9 

carefully  cultivated  by  feveral,  mufl:  gradually 
diffufe  itfelf  throughout  the  whole  fociety,  and 
beftow  a  fimilar  corredtnefs  pn  every  art  and  call- 
ing. The  politician  will  acquire  greater  forefight 
and  fubtilty,  in  the  fubdividing  and  balancing  of 
power;  the  lawyer  more  method  and  finer  princi- 
ples in  his  reafonings  ;  and  the  general  more  re- 
gularity in  his  difcipline,  and  more  caution  in  his 
plans  and  operations.  The  liability  of  modern  go- 
vernments above  the  ancient,  and  the  accuracy  of 
modern  philofophy,  have  improved,  and  proba- 
bly will  ftill  improve,  by  fimilar  gradations. 

Were  there  no  advantage  to  be  reaped  from 
thefe  fiiudies,  beyond  the  gratification  of  an  in- 
nocent curiofity,  yet  ought  not  even  this  to  be 
defpifed ;  as  being  one  accelTion  to  thofe  few  fafe 
and  harmlefs  pleafures,  which  are  beflowcd  on 
human  race.  The  fweeteft  and  mofb  inofienfive 
path  of  life  leads  through  the  avenues  of  fcience 
and  learning}  and  whoever  can  either  remove 
any  obftruftions  in  this  way,  or  open  up  any  new 
profpefl,  ought  fo  far  to  be  efteemed  a  benefadtor 
to  mankind.  And  though  thefe  refearches  may 
appear  painful  and  fatiguing,  it  is  with  fome 
minds  as  with  fome  bodies,  which  being  endow- 
ed with  vigorous  and  florid  health,  require  fevere 
exercife,  and  reap  a  pleafure  fram  what,  to  the 
generality  of  mankind,  may  feem  burdenfome  and 
laborious.  Obfcurity,  indeed,  is  painful  to  the 
mind  as  well  as  to  the  eye ;  but  to  bring  light 
from  obfcurity,  by  v/hatever  labour,  mud  needs 
be  delightful  and  rejoicing. 

But  this  obfcurity  in  the  profound  and  abftradV 
philofophy,  is  objefted  to,  not  only  as  painful  and 
fatiguing,  but  as  the  inevitable  fource  of  uncer- 
tainty and  error.  Here  indeed  lies  the  juftefb  and 
moft  plaufible  objection  againft  a  confiderable  part 
of  metaphyfics,  that  they  are  not  properly  a  fcience; 

but 


lo  SECTION       I. 

but  arife  either  from  the  fruitlefs  efforts  of  human 
vanity,  which  would  penetrate  into  fubjedls  ut- 
terly inacceflible  to  the  understanding,  or  from 
the  craft  of  popular  fuperftitions,  which,  being 
unable  to  defend  themfelves  on  fair  ground,  raife 
thefe  intangling  brambles  to  cover  and  proteft 
their  weaknefs.  Chafed  from  the  open  country, 
thefe  robbers  fly  into  the  forefl:,  and  lie  in  wait 
to  break  in  upon  every  unguarded  avenue  of  the 
mind,  and  overwhelm  it  with  religious  fears  and 
prejudices.  The  ftouteft  antagonift,  if  he  remit 
his  watch  a  moment,  is  opprefled.  And  many, 
through  cowardice  and  folly,  open  the  gates  to 
the  enemies,  and  willingly  receive  them  with  re- 
verence and  fubmiffion,  as  their  legal  fovereigns. 

But  is  this  a  fufficient  reafon,  why  philofo- 
phers  fhould  defift  from  fuch  refearches,  and  leave 
fuperftition  ftill  in  poflTelTiGn  of  her  retreat  ?  Is  it 
not  proper  to  draw  an  oppofite  conclufion,  and 
perceive  the  neceflity  of  carrying  the  war  into 
the  moll  fecret  recefles  of  the  enemy  ?  In  vain  do 
we  hope,  that  men,  from  frequent  difappoinment, 
will  at  laft  abandon  fuch  airy  fciences,  and  dif- 
cdvtT  the  proper  province  of  human  reafon.  For, 
befides,  that  many  perfons  find  too  fenfible  an 
intereft  in  perpetually  recalling  fuch  topics ;  be- 
fides this,  I  fay,  the  motive  of  blind  delpair  can 
never  reafonably  have  place  in  the  fciences  j  fince, 
however  unfuccefsful  former  attempts  may  have 
proved,  there  is  ftill  room  to  hope,  that  the 
indiiftry,  good  fortune,  or  improved  fagacity  of 
fucceeding  generations  m.ay  reach  difcoveries  un- 
known to  former  ages.  Each  adventurous  genius^ 
will  ftill  leap  at  the^arduous  prize,  and  find  himfelf 
ftimulated,  rather  than  dilcouraged,  by  the  failures 
of  his  predecefibrsj  while  he  hopes  that  the  glory 
of  archieving  fo  hard  an  adventure  is  referved  for 
him  alone.     The  only  method  of  freeing  learning, 

at 


or  the  Different  Species  of  Philosophy,  ii 

at  once,  from   thefe  abftrufe  queftions,  is  to  en- 
quire ferioufly  into   the  nature  of  human   iinder- 
lianding,  and  fhew,  from   an  exaft  analyfis  of  its 
powers  and  capacity,  that  it  is   by  no  means  fitted 
for  fuch   remote  and  abftrufe  fubje<5ts.     We  mull: 
fubmit  to  this  fatigue,  in  order  to  Jive  at  eafe  ever 
after :  And  mull  cultivate    true  metaphyfics   with 
fome  care,  in  order  to  deftroy  the  falfe  and  adul- 
terate.     Indolence,    which,  to   fome    perfons,  af- 
fords a  fafeguard  againft  this  deceitful  philofophy, 
is,  with  others,  overbalanced  by  curiofityj  and  def- 
pair,  which,  at  fome  moments,  prevails,  may  give 
place  afterwards  to  fanguine  hopes  and  expe6tati- 
ons.     Accurate  and  juft  reafoning  is  the  only  ca- 
tholic remedy,  fitted  for  all  perfons  and  all  difpo- 
fitions ;  and  is  alone  able  to  fubvert  that  abftrufe 
philofophy  and  metaphyfical  jargon,  which,  being 
mixed  up  with  popular  fuperftition,  renders  it  in 
a  manner   impenetrable  to   carelefs  reafoners,  and 
gives  it  the  air  of  fcience  and  wifdom, 

Befides  this  advantage  of  rejeding,   after  delibe- 
rate enquiry,  the  moft  uncertain  and  difagreeable 
part  of  learning,  there  are  many  pofitive  advanta- 
ges, which  refult  from  an  accurate  fcrutiny  into  the 
powers   and  faculties  of  human  nature.     It  is  re- 
markable concerning  the  operations  of  the  mind, 
that,  though   moft  intimately  prefent   to  us,  yet, 
whenever   they    become  the   objeft   of  refiedion, 
they  feem  involved  in  obfcurity;  nor  can   the  eye 
readily  find  thofe  lines  and  boundaries,  which  dif* 
criminate  and  diftinguifh  them.     The  objedls  are 
too  fine  to  remain  long  in  the  fame  afped  or  fitua- 
tion ;  and  muft  be  apprehended   in  an  inftant,   by 
a  fuperior   penetration,  derived  from  nature,  and 
improved  by  habit  and   reflexion.      It    becomes, 
therefore,  no  inconfiderable  part   of  fcience  barely 
to  know  the  different  operations  of  the  mind,  to 
feparate  them  from  each  other,  to   clafs  them  un- 
der their  proper  heads,  and  to  corredall  thatfeem- 

ins: 


12  SECTION       I. 

ing  diforder,  in  which  they  lie  involved,  when 
made  the  objeft  of  refleftion  and  enquiry.  This 
talk  of  ordering  and  diftinguifhing,  which  has  no 
merit,  when  performed  with  regard  to  external  bo- 
dies, the  obje6ls  of  our  fenfes,  rifes  in  its  value, 
when  directed  towards  the  operations  of  the  mind, 
in  proportion  to  the  difficulty  and  labour,  which 
we  meet  with  in  performing  ic.  And  if  we  can  go 
no  farther  than  this  mental  geography,  or  delinea- 
tion of  the  diftin6b  parts  and  powers  of  the  mind, 
it  is  at  leaft  a  fatisfadlion  to  go  fo  far;  and  the 
more  obvious  this  fcience  may  appear  (and  it  is  by 
no  means  obvious)  the  more  contemptible  ftill 
muft  the  ignorance  of  it  be  efleemed,  in  all  pre- 
tenders to  learning  and  philofophy. 

Nor  can  there  remain  any  fufpicion,  that  this 
fcience  is  uncertain  and  chimerical  j  unlefs  we 
fhould  entertain  fuch  a  fcepticifm  as  is  entirely 
fubverfive  of  all  fpeculation,  and  even  adlion.  It 
cannot  be  doubted,  that  the  mind  is  endowed  with 
feveral  powers  and  faculties,  that  thefe  powers  are 
diflinfl  from  each  other,  that  what  is  really  dif- 
tin<5t  to  the  immediate  perception  may  be  diflin- 
guifhed  by  refle6lion ;  and  confequently,  that  there 
is  a  truth  and  falfehood  in  all  propofitions  on  this 
fubjeft,  and  a  truth  and  falfehood,  which  lie  not 
beyond  the  compafs  of  human  undcrftanding. 
There  are  many  obvious  diftincftions  of  this  kind, 
fuch  as  thofe  between  the  will  and  under  Handing, 
the  imagnation  and  paflions,  which  fall  within  the 
comprehenfion  of  every  human  creature;  and  the 
finer  and  more  philofophical  diftin6tions  are  no  lefs 
real  and  certain,  though  more  difficult  to  be  com- 
prehended. Some  inltances,  efpecially  late  ones, 
of  fuccefs  in  thefe  enquiries,  may  give  us  a  jufter 
notion  of  the  certainty  and  folidity  of  this  branch 
of  learning.  And  ffiall  we  eftecm  it  worthy  the 
labour  of  a  philofopher  to  give  us  a  true  fyftem  of 
the  planets,  and  adjufl  the  pofition  and  order  of 

thofe 


or  the  Different  Species  of  Philosophy.  iJ 

thofe  remote  bodies;  while  we  affect  to  overlook 
thofe,  who,  with  fo  much  fuccefs,  delineate  the 
parts  of  the  mind,  in  which  we  are  fo  intimately 
concerned  ? 

But  may  we  not  hope,  that  pliilofophy,  if  culti- 
vated with  care,  and  encouraged  by  the  attention 
of  the  public,  may  carry  its  refearclies  (till  farther, 
and  difcover,   at  leaft  in  fome  degree,  the  fecret 
fprings  and  principles,  by  which  the  human  mind 
is    aduated  in   its   operations  ?    Aftronomers    had 
long  contented  themfelves  with  proving,  from  the 
phaenomena,  the  true  motions,  order,  and  magni- 
tude of  the  heavenly  bodies:  Till  a  philofopher,  at 
laft,  arofe,  who  feems,  from   the   happiell  reafon- 
ing,  to  have  determined  the  laws  and  forces,   by 
which  the  revolutions  of  the  planets  are  governed 
and  directed.     The  like  has  been  performed  with 
i"egard  to  other  parts  of  nature.     And  there  is  no 
reafon  to  defpair  of  equal  fuccefs  of  our  enquiries 
concerning  the  mental  powers   and   oeconomy,  if 
profecuted  with  equal  capacity  and  caution.     It  is 
probable,  that  one  operation  and  principle  of  the 
mind  depends  on   another;  which,  again,  may  be 
refolved  into  one  more  general  and  univerfal :  And 
how  far  thefe  refearches  may  poflibly  be  carried,  it 
will   be  difficult  for  us,  before,  or  even  after,   a 
careful  trial,  exactly  to  determine.     This  is  certain, 
that  attempts  of  this  kind  are  every  day  made  even 
by  thofe  who  philofophize  the  mod   negligently : 
And  nothing  can   be  more  requifite  than  to  enter 
upon  the  enterprize  with  thorough  care  and  attenti- 
on; that,  if  it  lie  within  the  compafs  of  human  un- 
derllanding,  it  may  at  laft  be  happily  atchieved;  if 
not,  it  may  at  laft  be  rejefted  with  fome  confidence 
and  fecurity.     This  laft  conclufion,  furely,  is  not 
defirable;  nor  ought  it  to  be  embraced  too  ralhiy. 
For  how  much  muft  we  diminilh  from  the  beauty 
and  value  of  this  fpecies  of  philofophy,  upon  fuch 
a  fuppofition  ?  Moralifts  have  hitherto  been  accuf- 

tomedj 


14  S    E    G    T     I    O    N      I. 

tomed,  when  they  confidered  the  vaft  multitude 
9.nd  diverfity  of  thofe  aftions  that  excite  our  appro- 
bation or  diflike,  to  fearch  for  feme  common  prin- 
ciple, on  which  this  variety  of  fentiments  might 
depend.  And  though  they  have  fometimes  carri- 
ed the  matter  too  far,  by  their  pafTion  for  fome  one 
general  principle  J  it  mull,  however,  be  confefled, 
that  they  are  excufable  in  expefting  to  find  fome 
general  principles,  into  which  ail  the  vices  and  vir- 
tues were  juftly  to  be  refolved.  The  like  has  been 
the  endeavour  of  critics,  logicians,  and  even  poli- 
ticians :  Nor  have  their  attempts  been  wholly  un- 
fuccefsful;  though  perhaps  longer  time,  greater 
accuracy,  and  more  ardent  application  may  bring 
thefe  fciences  ftill  nearer  their  perfection.  To 
throw  up  at  once  all  pretenfions  of  this  kind  may 
juftly  be  deemed  more  rafh,  precipitate,  and  dog- 
matical, than  even  the  boldeft  and  moft  affirmative 
philofophy,  that  has  ever  attem.pted  to  impofe  its 
crude  dictates  and  principles  on  mankind. 

What  though  thefe  reafonings  concerning  human 
nature  feems  abftradl,  and  of  difficult  comprehen- 
lion  ?  This  affords  no  prefumption  of  their  falfe- 
hood.  On  the  contrary,  it  feems  impoffible,  that 
what  has  hitherto  efcaped  fo  many  wife  and  pro- 
found philofophers  can  be  very  obvious  and  eafy. 
And  whatever  pains  thefe  refearches  may  coft  usj 
we  may  think  ourfelves  fufficicntly  rewarded,  not 
only  in  point  of  profit  but  of  pleafure,  if  by  that 
means,  we  can  make  any  addition  to  our  ftock  of 
knowledge,  in  fubjefts  of  fuch  unfpeakable  im- 
portance. 

But  as,  after  all,  the  abflraclednefs  of  thefe  fpe- 
culations  is  no  recommendation,  but  rather  a  dif- 
advanc«ge  to  them,  and  as  this  difficulty  may  per- 
haps be  furmounted  by  care  and  art,  and  the  avoid- 
ing of  all  unnecelTary  detail,  we  have,  in  the  fol- 
lowing enquiry,  attemj^ted  to  throw  fome  light  up- 
©n  fubjeds,    from  which   uncertainty  has  hitherto 

deterred 


Of  the  Different  Species  of  Philosophy.     15 

deterred  the  wife,  and  obfcurity  the  ignorant. 
Happy,  if  we  can  unite  the  boundaries  of  the 
different  fpecies  of  philofophy,  by  reconciling  pro- 
found enquiry  with  clearnefs,  and  truth  with  no- 
velty !  And  ftill  more  happy,  if,  reafoning  in  this 
eafy  manner,  we  can  undermine  the  foundations  of 
an  abftrufe  philofophy,  which  feems  to  have  hi- 
therto ferved  only  as  a  fhelter  to  fuperftition,  and 
a  cover  to  abfurdity  and  error ! 


(  17  ) 


SECTION      II. 

Of  the  Origin    of  Ideas. 


E 


VERY  one  will  readily  allow  that  there  is  a 
confiderable  difference  between  the  perceptions  of 
the  mind,  when  a  man  feels  the  pain  of  exi  effive 
heat,  or  the  pleafure  of  moderate  warmth,  and  when 
he  afterwards  recalls  to  his  memory  this  fenfation, 
or  anticipates  it  by  his  imagination.  Thefe  facul- 
ties may  mimic  ^  copy  the  perceptions  of  the  fen- 
fesi  but  they  ne\^er  can  entirely  reach  the  force 
and  vivacity  of  the  original  fentiment.  The  utmoft 
we  fay  of  them,  even  Vv^hen  they  operate  v/ith  great- 
eft  vigour,  is,  that  they  reprefent  their  obje6l  in  fo 
lively  a  manner,  that  we  could  almoft  fay  we  feel 
or  fee  it :  But,  except  the  mind  be  difordered  by 
difeafe  or  madnefs,  they  never  can  arrive  at  fuch 
a  pitch  of  vivacity,  as  to  render  thefe  perceptions 
altogether  undiftino-uifhable.  All  the  colours  of 
poetry,  hov/ever  fplendid,  can  never  paint  natural 
obje<fls  in  fuch  a  manner  as  to  make  the  defcripti- 
on  be  taken  for  a  real  landfkip.  The  moll  lively 
thought  is  ftill  inferior  to  the  dulleft  fenfation. 

We  may  obferve  a  like  diftinftion  to  run  through 
all  the  other  perceptions  of  the  mind.  A  man  in 
a  fit  of  anger,  is  actuated  in  a  very  different 
manner  from  one  who  only  thinks  of  that  emo- 
tion. If  you  tell  me,  that  any  perfon  is  in  love, 
1  eafily  underftand  your  meaning,  and  form  a 
juft    conception    of  his   fituationj    but  never  can 

Vol.  II.  C  miftakc 


i8  SECTION      IL 

iniftake  that  conception  for  the  real  diforders^ 
and  agitations  of  the  paflion.  When  We  refledV, 
on  our  pad  fentiments  and  affeftionsy  our  thought 
is  a  faithful  mirror,  and  copies  its  objedts  truly; 
but  the  colours  which  it  employs  are  faint  and 
dull,  in  comparifon  of  thofe  in  which  our  origi- 
nal perceptions  v/ere  clothed.  It  requires  no 
nice  difcernment  or  metaphyfical  head  to  mark 
the  diilinftion  between  them. 

Here  therefore  we  divide  all  the  perceptions 
of  the  mind  into  two  claffes  or  fpecies,  which 
are  diilinguillied  by  their  different  degrees  of 
force  and  vivacity.  The  lefs  forcible  and  lively 
are  commonly  denominated  Thoughts  or  Ideas. 
The  Other  fpecies  want  a  name  in  our  language, 
and  in  moft  others;  I  fuppofe,  becaufe  it  was  not 
requifite  for  any,  but  philofophical  purpofes,  to 
rank  them  under  a  general  term  or  appellation. 
Let  us,  therefore,  ufe  a  little  ffeedom,  and  call 
them  Impreffionsi  employing  that  word  in  a  fenfe 
fomewhat  different  from  the  ufual.  By  the  term 
imprej/ion,  then,  I  mean  all  our  more  lively  per- 
ceptions, when  we  hear,  or  fee,  or  feel,  love  or 
hate,  or  defire,  or  will.  And  imprefTions,  are  dif- 
tinguifhed  from  ideas,  which  are  the  lefs  lively 
perceptions,  of  which  we  are  confcious,  when  we 
ref^eft  on  any  of  thofe  fenfations  or  movements 
above  mentioned. 

Nothing,  at  firfl  viev/,  may  feem  more  unbound- 
ed than  t!ie  thought  of  man,  which  not  only  ef- 
capes  all  human  power  and  authority,  but  is  not 
even  reflraintd  within  the  limits  of  nature  and  rea- 
lity. To  form  monfters,  and  join  incongruous 
iliapes  and  appearances,  cofts  the  invagination  no 
more  trouble  than  to  conceive  the  mod  natural 
and  familiar  objedts.  And  while  the  body  is  con- 
fined to  one  planet,  along  which  it  creeps  with 
pain  an  J  difficulty;  the  thougli't  can  in  an  inflant 
tranlport  us  into  the  moft  diftant  regions  of  the  uni- 

verfe; 


or  the  O  R  re  I  N  of  Id  E  AS.  19 

verfe;  or  even  beyond  the  univerfe,  into  the  un- 
bounded chaos,  where  nature  is  fuppofed  to  lie 
in  total  confufion.  What  never  was  feen,  or 
heard  of,  may  yet  be  conceived 3  nor  is  any  thing 
beyond  the  power  of  thought,  except  what  im- 
plies an   abfolute  contradiction. 

But  though  our  thought  fecms  to  pofTefs  this 
unbounded  liberty,  v/e  ihall  find,  upon  a  rearer 
examination,  that  it  is  really  confined  within  very 
narrow  limits,  and  that  all  this  creative  power  of 
the  mind  amounts  to  no  more  than  the  fliculty 
of  compounding,  tranfpofing,  augmenting,  or  di- 
minifhing  the  materials  afforded  us  by  the  fen- 
i'es  and  experience.  When  we  think  of  a  golden 
mountain,  we  only  join  two  confiftent  ideas,  gold, 
and  mountain^  with  which  we  were  formerly  ac- 
quainted. A  virtuous  horfe  we  can  conceive; 
becaufe,  from  our  own  feeling,  we  can  conceive 
virtue;  and  this  we  may  unite  to  the  figure  and 
fhape  of  a  horfe,  which  is  an  animal  familiar  to 
us.  In  fhort,  all  the  materials  of  thinking  are 
derived  either  from  our  outv/ard  or  inward  fen- 
timent :  The  mixture  and  compofition  of  thefe 
belongs  alone  to  the  mind  and  will.  Or,  to  ex- 
prefs  myfelf  in  philofophical  language,  all  our 
ideas  or  more  feeble  perceptions  are  copies  of 
our  impreffions  or  more  lively  ones. 

To  prove  this,  the  two  following  arguments 
will,  1  hope,  be  fufficient.  Firfl,  when  we  ana- 
lyfe  our  thoughts  or  ideas,  hov/ever  compound- 
ed or  fublime,  we  always  find,  that  they  refolve 
themfelves  into  fuch  fimple  ideas  as  were  copied 
from  a  precedent  feeling  or  fentiment.  Even 
thofe  ideas,  which,  at  firfl:  view,  feem  the  moft 
wide  of  this  origin,  are  found,  upon  a  nearer 
fcrutiny,  to  be  derived  from  it.  The  idea  of 
God,  as  meaning  an  infinitely  intelligent,  v^'ife, 
and  good  Being,  arifes  from  refiecling  on  the 
operations    of  our  own    mind,    and  augmenting, 

C  2  without 


cio  SECTION      It. 

without  limit,  thofe  qualities  of  goodnefs  an'cl 
wifdom.  We  may  profecute  this  enquiry  to  what 
length  we  pleafe;  where  we  fliall  always  find, 
that  every  idea  which  we  examine  is  copied  from 
a  fimilar  imprefTion.  Thofe  who  would  alTert, 
that  this  pofition  is  not  univerfally  true  nor  with- 
out exception,  have  only  one,  and  that  an  eafy 
method  of  refuting  itj  by  producing  that  idea, 
w^hich,  in  their  opinion,  is  not  derived  from  this 
fource.  It  will  be  incumbent  on  us,  if  we  would 
maintain  our  doclrine,  to  produce  the  imprefliork 
or  lively   perception,  which  correfponds  to  it. 

Secondly.  If  it  happen,  from  a  defe6t  of  the 
organ,  that  a  man  is  not  fufceptible  of  any 
fpecies  of  fcnfation,  we  always  find,  that  he  is 
as  little  fufceptible  of  the  correfpondent  ideas. 
A  blind  man  can  form  no  notion  of  colours  j  a 
deaf  man  of  founds.  Reftore  either  of  them  that 
fenfe,  in  which  he  is  deficient;  by  opening  this 
new  inlet  for  his  fenfations,  you  open  an  inlet  for 
the  ideas;  and  he  finds  no  difficulty  in  conceiving 
thefe  objects.  The  cafe  is  the  fame,  if  the  objeft, 
proper  for  exciting  any  fenfation,  has  never  been 
applied  to  the  organ.  A  Laplander  or  Negroe 
has  no  notion  of  the  reliih  of  wine.  And  though 
there  are  few  or  no  inftances  of  the  like  deficien- 
cy in  the  mind,  where  a  perfon  has  never  felt  or* 
is  wholly  incapable  of  a  fentiment  ar  palTion,  that 
belongs  to  his  fpecies ;  yet  we  find  the  fame  obfer- 
vation  to  take  place  in  a  Icfs  degree.  A  man  of 
iTiild  manners  can  form  no  idea  of  inveterate  re- 
venge or  cruelty;  nor  can  a  feliifli  heart  eafily  con- 
ceive the  heights  of  friendlhip  and  generofity.  It 
is  readily  allowed,  that  other  beings  may  polTefs 
many  fenfes  of  which  we  can  have  no  conception ; 
becaufe  the  ideas  of  them  have  never  been  intro- 
duced to  us,  in  the  only  manner,  by  which  an  idea 
can  have  acccfs  to  the  mind,  to  wit,  by  the  adtual 
feeling  and  fenfation. 

There 


of  the    O  R  I  G  I  N    of  I  D  E  A  S.  11 

There  is,  however,  one  contradiftory  phrenome- 
non,  which  may  prove,  that  it  is  not  abfolutely  im- 
poiTible  for  ideas  to  arife,  independent  of  their 
correfpondent  imprefTions.  I  believe  it  will  readi- 
ly be  allowed,  that  the  feveral  diftinft  ideas  of 
-colour,  which  enter  by  the  eye,  or  thofe  of  found, 
which  are  conveyed  by  the  ear,  are  really  different 
from  each  other;  though,  at  the  fame  time,  re- 
fembling.  Now  if  this  be  true  of  different  colours, 
it  muft  be  no  lefs  fo  of  the  different  fhades  of 
the  fame  colour;  and  each  fliade  produces  a  dif- 
tin6l  idea,  independent  of  the  reft.  For  if  this 
jfhould  be  denied,  it  is  polTible,  by  the  conti- 
nual gradation  of  ihades,  to  run  a  colour  infenfi- 
bly  into  what  is  moft  remote  from  it;  and  if  you 
will  not  allow  any  of  the  means  to  be  different, 
you  cannot,  without  abfurdity,  deny  the  extremes 
to  be  the  fame.  Suppofe,  therefore,  a  perfon  to 
■have  enjoyed  his  fight  for  thirty  years,  and  to  have 
become  perfectly  acquainted  with  colours  of  all 
kinds,  except  one  particular  fliade  of  blue,  for  in- 
itance,  which  it  never  has  been  his  fortune  to  meet 
with.  Let  all  the  different  fhades  of  that  colour, 
except  that  fingle  one,  be  placed  before  him,  def- 
cending  gradually  from  the  deepeft  to  the  lighteftj 
it  is  plain,  that  he  will  perceive  a  blank,  where 
that  fhade  is  v/^anting,  and  will  be  fenfible,  that 
there  is  a  greater  dillance  in  that  place  between 
the  contiguous  colours  than  in  any  other.  Now  I 
2i{k,  whether  it  be  poffible  for  him,  from  his  own 
imagination,  to  fupply  this  deficiency,  and  raife 
up  to  himfelf  the  idea  of  that  particular  fliade, 
though  it  had  never  been  conveyed  to  him  b/  his 
fenfes  ?  I  believe  there  are  fev/  but  will  be  of  opi- 
nion that  he  can :  And  this  may  ferve  as  a  proof, 
that  the  fimple  ideas  are  not  always,  in  every  in- 
ftance,  derived  from  the  correfpondent  impref- 
fions ;  though  this  inftance  is  fo  finaular,  that  it 
is  fcarcely  worth  our  obferving,  and  does  not  me- 
rit. 


22  SECTION       II. 

rit,  that  for  it  alone  we  fhould  alter  our  general 
maxim. 

Here,    therefore,    is   a    propofition,  which   not 
only  feems,  in  irfelf,  firnple  and  intelligible  3   but, 
if  a   proper   ufe  were  made  of  it,  might  render 
every  difpute  equally   intelligible,   and  banifli  all 
that  jargon,  v/hich  has  fo  long  taken  poiTefiion  of 
inetaphyfical  reafonings,  and  drawn  diigrace  upon 
them.     All  ideas,  efpecially  abftracl  ones,  are  na- 
turally faint  and  obfcure  :  The  mind  has  but  a 
{lender  hold  of  them  :  They  are  apt   to  be  con- 
founded with  other  refembling  ideas  ;    and  when 
we  have   often  employed  any  term,  though  with- 
out a  diltincl  meaning,   we  are  apt  to  imagine  it 
has  a  determinate  idea,  annexed  to  it.     On  the 
contrary,   all   impreiTions,  that   is,    all   fenfations, 
either  outward  or  inward,  are  ftrong   and  vivid  ; 
The  limits  between  them  are  more  exactly  deter- 
mined: Nor  is  it  eafy  to  fall   into  any  error  or 
miftake  with  regard   to  them.     When  we  enter- 
tain, therefore,  any  fufpicion,  that  a   philofophi- 
cal  term    is    emiployed  without   any  meaning   or 
idea  (as  is  but  too  frequent),   we  need  but  en- 
quire,  frc7n  what   impreffion  is   that  Juppqfed  idea 
derived?  And  if   it    be  impoflible  to  aflign  any, 
this  will    ferve    to    confirm    our   fufpicion.      By 
bringing  ideas  into  fo  clear  a  light,  we  may  rea- 
fonably  hope   to  remove   all   difpute,  which  may 
arife,  concerning  their  nature  and  reality*. 


SECTION 

See  NOTE   [A]. 


mu  L'  ivut  1  gyjuaauw 


SECTION      IIL 


Of  the  ASSOCIATION  of  Ideas. 


I 


T  is  evident,  that  there  is  a  principle  of  con- 
nexion between  the  different  thoughts  or  ideas 
of  the  mindj  and  that,  in  their  appearance  to  the 
memory  or  imagination,  they  introduce  each 
other  with  a  certain  degree  of  method  and  re- 
gularity. In  our  more  ferious  thinking  or  dif- 
courfe,  this  is  fo  obfervable,  that  any  particular 
thought,  which  breaks  in  upon  the  regular  tradt 
or  chain  of  ideas,  is  immediately  remarked  and 
rejected.  And  even  in  our  wildefl:  and  mofl  wan- 
dering reveries,  nay  in  our  very  dreams,  we  fhall 
find,  if  we  relleft,  that  the  imagination  .ran  not 
altogether  at  adventures,  but  that  there  was  llill 
a  connexion  upheld  among  the  different  ideas, 
which  fucceeded  each  other.  Were  the  loofeft 
and  freeft  converfation  to  be  tranfcribed,  there 
would  immediately  be  obferved  fomething,  which 
connedled  it  in  all  its  tranfitions.  Or  where  this 
is  wanting,  the  perlbn,  who  broke  the  thread  of 
difcourfe,  might  ilill  inform  you,  that  there  had 
fecretly  revolved  in  his  mind  a  fucceffion  of  thought, 
which  had  gradually  led  him  from  the  fubjed  of 

converfation. 


24  SECTION        III. 

convcrfation.  Among  different  languages,  even 
where  we  cannot  fufpect  the  leaft  connexion  or 
communication,  it  is  found,  that  the  words,  ex- 
prefTive  of  ideas,  the  moft  compounded,  do  yet 
nearly  correfpond  to  each  other:  A  certain  proof, 
that  the  fimple  ideas,  comprehended  in  the  com- 
pound ones,  were  bound  together  by  fome  uni- 
verfal  principle,  which,  had  an  equal  influence  on 
all  mankind. 

Though  it  be  too  obvious  to  efcape  obferva- 
tion,  that  different  ideas  are  connefted  together  i 
1  do  not  find,  that  any  philofopher  has  attempt- 
ed to  enumerate  or  clafs  all  the  principles  of  af- 
fociationj  a  fubjedl,  however,  that  feems  worthy 
'of  curiofity.  To  me,  there  appear  to  be  only 
three  principles  of  connexion  among  ideas,  name- 
ly, Rejemblancej  Contiguity  in  time  or  place,  and 
Catife  or  Effe5i. 

That  thefe  principles  ferve  to  connefl  ideas  will 
not,  I  believe,  be  much  doubted.  A  pidture  na- 
turally leads  our  thoughts  to  the  original  * :  The 
mention  of  one  apartment  in  a  building  naturally 
introduces  an  enquiry  or  difcourfe  concerning  the 
others  f  :  And  if  we  think  of  a  wound,  we  can 
fcarcely  forbear  refledting  on  the  pain  which  fol- 
lows it  J.  But  that  this  enumeration  is  compleat, 
and  that  there  are  no  other  principles  of  affocia- 
tion,  except  thefe,  may  be  difficult  to  prove  to 
the  latisfa6lion  of  the  reader,  or  even  to  a  man's 
own  fatisfa»5lion.  All  we  can  do,  in  fuch  cafes,  is 
to  run  over  feveral  inftances,  and  examine  care- 
fully the  principle,  which  binds  the  different 
thoughts  to  each  other,  never  Hopping  till  we 
render  the  principle  as  general  as  poffible  §.     The 

more 

*  Refemblance.  f  Contiguity.         t  Caufe  and  EfFeft. 

§  For  inllance.  Contrail  or  Contrariety  is  alfo  a  connexion 
among  Ideas :  But  it  may,  perhaps,  be  confidered  as  a  mixture 
cf  Cau/ation  and  Refemblance.  Where  two  objeds  are  contra- 
ry. 


I 


Of  the  Association  of  Ideas.  25 

niore  inftances  we  examine,  and  the  more  care  we 
employ,  the  more  afiiirance  fliall  we  acquire,  that 
the  enumeration,  which  we  form  from  the  whole, 
is  compleat  and  entire. 

ry,  the  one  deftroys  the  other ;  that  is,  the  caufe  of  its  annihi- 
lation, and  the  idea  of  the  annihilation  of  an  objeft,  implicB 
the  idea  of  its  former  cxillence. 


[     27     ] 


k 


SECTION       IV- 


Sceptical  Doubts  concerning  the  Opera- 
tions of  the  Understanding. 


PARTI. 

,i\.LL  the  obje6ls  of  human  reafon  or  enquiry 
may  naturally  be  divided  into  two  kinds,  to  wit. 
Relations  of  Ideas,  and  Matters  of  Fa£l.  Of  the 
firft  kind  are  the  fciences  of  Geometry,  Algebra, 
and  Arithmetic  j  and  in  fhort,  every  affirmati- 
on, which  is  either  intuitively  or  demonftra- 
tively  certain.  That  the  Jquare  of  the  hypothenufe 
is  equal  to  the  Jquare  of  the  two  fides ,  is  a  pro- 
pofition,  which  expreffes  a  relation  between  thefe 
figures.  That  three  times  five  is  eqiioj,  to  the  half 
of  thirty,  expreffes  a  relation  between  thefe  num- 
bers. Propofitions  of  this  kind  are  difcovera- 
ble  by  the  mere  operation  of  thought,  without 
dependence  on  what  is  any  where  exifbent  in 
the  univerfe.  Though  there  never  were  a  cir- 
cle or  triangle  in  nature,  the  truths,  demonflrat- 
ed  by  Euclid,  would  for  ever  retain  their  cer- 
tainty and  evidence. 

Matters  of  fa6t,  which  are    the  fecond  objeds 
of  human  reafon,  are  not  afcertained  in  the  fame 
manner  J     nor   is   our    evidence    of    their  truth, 
hov/ever  great,  of  a  like  nature  with  the  forego- 
ing. 


28  SECTION       IV. 

ing.  The  contrary  of  every  matter  of  facft  is 
flill  pofiible ;  becaufe  it  can  never  imply  a  con- 
tradi6tion,  and  is  conceived  by  the  mind  with 
the  fame  facility  and  diftinclnefs,  as  if  ever  fo 
conformable  to  reality.  'That  the  Jim  'ujill  not 
rife  to-morrow  is  no  lefs  intelligible  a  propofiti- 
on,  and  implies  no  niore  contradiction,  than  the 
affirmation,  that  it  will  rije.  We  fhould  in  vain, 
therefore,  attempt  to  demonftrate  its  falfehood. 
Were  it  demonilratively  falfe,  it  u'ould  imply 
a  contradiftion,  and  could  never  be  diftindtly 
conceived   by  the  mind. 

It  miay,  therefore,  be  a  fubjeft  worthy  of  cu- 
riofity,  to  enquire  what  is  the  nature  of  that 
evidence,  which  affures  us  of  any  real  exiftence 
and  matter  of  faft,  beyond  the  prefent  teilimo- 
ny  of  our  fenfes,  or  the  records  of  our  memo- 
ry, This  part  of  philofophy,  it  is  obfervable, 
has  been  little  cultivated,  either  by  the  ancients 
or  moderns ;  and  therefore  ou.r  doubts  and  er- 
rors, in  the  profecution  of  fo  important  an  en- 
quiry, may  be  the  more  excufable ;  while  we 
march  through  fuch  difficult  paths,  without  any 
guide  or  dired:ion.  They  may  even  prove  ufe- 
fui,  by  exciting  curiofity,  and  dellroying  that 
implicit  faith  and  fecurity,  which  is  the  bane 
of  all  reafoning  and  free  enquiry.  The  difcove- 
ry  of  defetis  in  the  common  philofophy,  if  any 
fuch  there  be,  will  not,  I  prefume,  be  a  dif- 
couragement,  but  rather  an  incitement,  as  is 
iifual,  to  attempt  fomething  more  full  and  fa- 
tisfaftory,  than  has  yet  been  propofed  to  the 
public. 

All  rcafonings  concerning  matter  of  fa<5t  feem 
to  be  founded  on  the  relation  of  Caujc  and  Ef- 
fetl.  By  means  of  that  relation  alone  we  can  go 
beyond  the  evidence  of  our  memory  and  fenfes. 
If  you  were  to  afl<  a  man,  wliy  he  believes  any 
ijiatter  of  fad,    which    is    abfent  \   for    inftancc, 

that 


Sceptical  Dounrs.  29 

that  his  friend  is  in  the  country,  or  in  France; 
he  would  give  you  a  reafon ;  and  this  reafon 
would  be  fome  other  fad: ;  as  a  letter  received 
from  him,  or  the  knowledge  of  his  former  refo- 
Jutions  and  promifes.  A  inan,  finding  a  watch 
or  any  other  machine  in  a  dcfart  ifland,  would 
conclude,  that  there  had  once  been  men  in  that 
ifland.  All  our  reafcnings  concerning  taft  are  of 
the  fame  nature.  And  here  it  is  confl:antly  fup- 
pofed,  that  there  is  a  connexion  between  the 
prefent  fci6t  and  that  which  is  inferred  from  it. 
Were  there  nothing  to  bind  them  togeriier,  tiie 
inference  would  be  entirely  precarious.  Thehear- 
ino;  of  an  articulate  voice  and  rational  difcourfe 
in  the  dark  afTures  us  of  the  prefence  of  fome 
perfon  :  Why  ?  becaufe  thefe  are  the  efFedts  of 
the  human  make  and  fabric,  are  clofely  con- 
nefted  with  it.  If  we  anatomize  all  the  other 
reafonings  of  this  nature,  we  fhall  find,  that  they 
are  founded  on  the  relation  of  caufe  and  eff^eCt, 
and  that  this  relation  is  either  near  or  remote, 
direct  or  collateral.  Heat  and  lig-ht  are  colla- 
teral  effects  of  fire,  and  the  one  etieft  may  juilly 
be    inferred  from  the  other. 

If  we  would  fatisfy  ourfelves,  therefore,  con- 
cerning the  nature  of  that  evidence,  which  afTures 
us  of  matters  of  faft,  we  mufc  enquire  how  we 
arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  caufe  and  effedl. 

I  fhall  venture  to  affirm,  as  a  general  propofiti- 
on,  which  admits  of  no  exception,  that  the  know- 
ledge of  this  relation  is  not,  in  any  inftance, 
attained  by  reafonings  a  priori  ;  but  arifes  en- 
tirely from  experience,  when  we  find,  that  any  par- 
ticular objedls  are  conftantly  corjoined  with  each 
other.  Let  an  objctl  be  prefented  to  a  man  of  ever 
fo  ftrong  natural  reafon  and  abilities  j  if  that  ob- 
jedt  be  entirely  new  to  him,  he  will  not  be  able, 
by  the  mofb  accurate  examination  01  its  fenfible 
qualities,    to    difcover   any    of   its  caufes  or   ef- 

feds. 


3d  SECTION      IV. 

fe<fts.  Adam,  though  his  rational  faculties  be 
fuppofed,  at  the  very  firft,  entirely  perfedl,  could 
not  have  inferred  from  the  fluidity,  and  tran- 
fparency  of  water,  that  it  would  fuffbcate  him, 
or  from  the  light  and  warmth  of  fire,  that  it 
would  confume  him.  No  objeft  ever  difcovers, 
by  the  qualities  which  appear  to  the  fenfes, 
either  the  caufes  vv^hich  produced  it,  or  the  ef- 
fefts  which  will  arife  from  it  ;  nor  can  our 
reafon,  unafllfted  by  experience,  ever  draw  any 
inference  concerning  real  exigence  and  matter 
of  fact. 

This  propofition,   that  canjes  and  effecfs  are  dif- 
coverable^    not    by    reafon,     but   by   experience,  will 
readily  be    admitted    with    regard    to    fuch  ob- 
jedls,   as  we   remember    to  have   once    been   al- 
together   unknown    to    us  ;     fince    we   muft   be 
confcious  of  the  utter  inability,    which  we  then 
lay  under,  of  foretelling,  what  would  arife  from 
them.     Prefent    two  fmooth  pieces  of  marble  to 
a  man,    who   has  no    tincture   of  natural   philo- 
fophy ;    he  will    never   difcover,     that  they   will 
adhere  together,     in    fuch   a    manner  as    to    re- 
quire   great   force  to    feparate    them   in    a  dire(51: 
line,    while  they    make   fo    fmall    a   refrllance  to 
a  lateral  preflfure.      Such    events,    as    bear  little 
analogy   to   the    common   courfe   of   nature,    are 
alfo  readily  confefled  to  be  known   only  by  ex- 
perience ;   nor  does   any   man    imagine    that    the 
explofion   of  gunpowder,   or    the  attraction  of  a 
loadllone,     could    ever    be    difcove^-ed   by    argu- 
ments ^  priori.      In   like   manner,    when   an    ef- 
fect is  fuppofed  to  depend  upon  an  intricate  ma- 
chinery or  fecret  fl:ru6ture  of  parts,  we  make  no 
difficulty  in  attributing  all    our  knowledge  of  it 
to  experience.     Who  will  afiert,  that  he  can  give 
the  ultimate  reafon,  why  milk  or  bread  is  pro- 
per nourifliment  for   a   man,   not  for    a  lion  or 
a  tyger  ? 

3  B^t 


Sceptical    Doubts.  31 

'But  the  fame  truth  may  not  appear,  at  firfl: 
fight,  to  have  the  fame  evidence  with  regard 
to  events,  which  have  become  familiar  to  us  from 
our  firfl  appearance  in  the  world,  which  bear  a 
clofe  analogy  to  the  whole  courfe  of  nature,  and 
which  are  fuppofed  to  depend  on  the  fimple 
qualities  of  objedls,  without  any  fecret  ftruc- 
ture  of  parts.  We  are  apt  to  imagine,  that  we 
could  difcover  thefe  effe6bs  by  the  mere  opera- 
tion of  our  reafon,  without  experience.  We  fan- 
cy, that  were  we  brought,  on  a  fudden,  into 
this  world,  we  could  at  firft  have  inferred,  that 
one  Billiard-ball  would  communicate  motion  to 
another  upon  impulfe  ;  and  that  we  needed  not 
to  have  waited  for  the  event,  in  order  to  pro- 
nounce with  certainty  concerning  it.  Such  is  the 
influence  of  cuftom,  that,  where  it  is  ftrongefb, 
it  not  only  covers  our  natural  ignorance,  but  even 
conceals  itfelf,  and  feems  not  to  take  place, 
merely  becaufe  it  is  found  in  the  higheil  de- 
gree. 

But  to  convince  us,  that  all  the  laws  of  na- 
ture, and  all  the  operations  of  bodies  without 
exception,  are  known  only  by  experience,  the 
following  reflections  may,  perhaps,  fufHce.  Were 
any  objedl  prefcnted  to  us,  and  were  we  requir- 
ed to  pronounce  concerning  the  effeft,  which 
will  refult  from  it,  without  confulting  paft  ob- 
fervation  -,  after  what  manner,  I  befeech  you,  muft 
the  mind  proceed  in  this  operation  ?  It  mufl  in- 
vent or  imagine  fome  event,  which  it  afcribes  to 
the  objed  as  its  effect ;  and  it  is  plain  that  this 
invention  muft  be  entirely  arbitrary.  The  mind 
can  never  pofTibly  find  the  effedt  in  the  fuppof- 
ed caufe,  by  the  moft  accurate  fcrutiny  and  ex- 
amination. For  the  effect  is  totally  different  from 
the  caufe,  and  confequently  can  never  be  difco- 
vered  in  it.  Motion  in  the  fecond  Billiard-ball 
is    a   quite    diftind    event    from   motion   in    the 

firfli 


32  SECTION      IV. 

firjfl ;  nor  is  there  any  thing  in  the  one  to  fug- 
ged the  fmallelt  hint  of  the  other.  A  ftone  or 
piece  of  nietal  raifed  into  the  air,  and  left  with- 
out any  fupport,  immediately  falls  :  But  to  con- 
lider  the  matter  a  priori,  is  there  any  thing  we 
difcover  in  this  fituation,  which  can  beget  the 
idea  of  a  downward,  rather  than  an  upward,  or 
any  other  motion,  in  the  ftone  or  metal  ? 

And  as  the  firft  imaofination  or  invention  of  a 
particular  efFe£t,  in  all  natural  operations,  is  ar- 
bitrary, where  we  confult  not  experience ;  fo 
muft  we  alfo  cfteem  the  fuppofed  tye  or  con- 
nexion between  the  caufe  and  efFed,  which  binds 
them  together,  and  renders  it  impoffible,  that 
any  other  efFeft  could  refult  from  the  operati- 
on of  that  caufe.  When  I  fee,  for  inftance,  a 
Billiard-ball  moving  in  a  ftraight  line  towards  ano- 
ther ;  even  fuppofe  motion  in  the  fecond  ball 
fhould  by  accident  be  fuggefted  ro  me,  as  the  re- 
fult of  their  contad  or  impulfe  j  may  I  not  con- 
ceive, that  a  hundred  different  events  might  as 
well  follow  from  that  caufe  ?  May  not  both  thefe 
balls  remain  at  abfolute  reft  ?  May  not  the  firft^ 
ball  return  in  a  ftraight  line,  or  leap  off  from  the 
fecond  in  any  line  or  diredion  ?  All  thefe  fup- 
pofitions  are  confiftent  and  conceivable.  Why 
then  fliould  we  give  the  preference  to  one,  which 
is  no  more  confiftent  or  conceivable  than  the 
reft  ?  All  our  reafoning  a  priori  will  never  be 
able  to  ftiew  us  any  foundation  for  this  prefe- 
rence. 

In  a  word,  then,  every  effed  is  a  diftind  event 
from  its  caufe.  It  could  not,  therefore,  be  difco- 
vercd  in  the  cayfe,  and  the  firft  invention  or  con- 
ception of  it,  a  priori,  muft  be  entirely  arbitrary. 
And  even  after  it  is  fuggefted,  the  conjundion  of  it 
with  the  caufe  muft  appear  equally  arbitrary;  fince 
there  are  always  many  other  effeds,  which,  to 
reafon,  muft  feem  fully  as  confiftent  and  natu- 
ral. 


I 


Sceptical    Doubts.  23 

ral.  In  vain,  therefore,  ihould  we  pretend  to  de- 
termine any  fingle  event,  or  infer  anv  caufe  or  cC- 
feci,  without  the  afliilance  of  obfervation  and  ex- 
perience. 

Hence  we  may  difcover  the  reafon,  why  no  phi- 
lofopher,  who  is  rational  and  modell,  has  ever 
pretended  to  afTign  the  ultimate  caufe  of  any  na- 
tural operation,  or  to  fhow  diftinftly  the  action  of 
that  power,  which  produces  any  fingle  effecfl  in  the 
univerfe.  It  is  confeffed,  that  the  utmoil  effort 
of  human  reafon  is,  to  reduce  the  principles, 
productive  of  natural  ph^Enomena,  to  a  greater 
fimplicity,  and  to  refolve  the  many  particular  ef- 
fects into  a  few  general  caufcs,  by  means  of 
reafonings  from  analogy,  experience,  and  obfer- 
vation. But  as  to  the  caufes  of  thefe  general 
effects,  we  fliould  in  vain  attempt  their  difcove- 
ly  ;  nor  fhall  we  ever  be  able  to  fatisfy  ourfelves, 
by  any  particular  explication  of  them.  Thefe 
ultimate  fprings  and  principles  are  totally  fhut 
up  from  human  curiofity  and  enquiry.  Elafti- 
city,  gravity,  cohefion  of  parts,  communication 
of  motion  by  impulfe  ;  thefe  are  probably  the 
ultimate  caufes  and  principles  which  we  fliall 
ever  difcover  in  nature ;  and  we  may  efteem 
ourfelves  fufficiently  happy,  if,  by  accurate  en- 
quiry and  reafoning,  we  can  trace  up  the  par- 
ticular phcenomena  to,  or  near  to,  thefe  gene- 
ral principles.  The  mod  perfecSl  philofophy  of 
the  natural  kind  only  ilaves  off  our  ignorance  a 
little  longer :  As  perhaps  the  mod  perfe6t  phi- 
lofophy of  the  moral  or  metaphyseal  kind  ferves 
only  to  difcover  larger  portions  of  it.  Thus  the 
obfervation  of  human  blindnefs  and  weaknefs  is 
the  refult  of  all  philofophy,  and  meets  us,  at  eve- 
ry turn,  in  fpite  of  our  endeavours  to  elude  or 
avoid  it. 

Nor  is  geometry,  when  taken  into  the  afTiftance 
©f  natural    philofophy,    ever  able  to    remedy  this 

Vol.  II.  D  defed, 


34  SECTION        IV'. 

defe6l,    or  lead   us   into    the   knowledge  of  ulti- 
mate   caufes,    by  all   that   accuracy   of   reafoningy 
for   which  it  is  fo  juftly   celebrated.      Every  part 
of   mixed    mathematics    proceeds    upon    the   fup- 
pofition,  that  certain  law^s   are  ellabiilhed   by  na- 
ture in  her  operations  ;   and  abflraft  reafonings  are 
employed,  either'  to  aiTiit  experience  in  the  difco- 
very  of  thefe  laws,  or  to  determine  thdr  influence 
in  particular  inftances,  where  it  depends  upon  any 
precife    degree   of  diftance   and   quantity.     Thus, 
it  is  a  law  of  motion,    difcovered  by  experience> 
that  the  moment  or   force    of  any   body  in   mo- 
tion  is    in   the  compound    ratio    or  proportion  of 
its  folid    contents    and   its    velocity :     and    confe- 
quently,  that  a  fmall  force  may  remove  the  greateft 
weight,   if,  by  any  contrivance  or  machinery,  we 
can   encreafc  the  velocity  of  that   force,   fo   as    to 
make  it  an  overmatch   for  its    antagonill.      Geo- 
m.etry  adifts  us  in  the  application   of  this  law,  by 
giving  us  the  juft  dimenfions  of  all  the  parts  and 
figures,  which  can  enter   into  any   fpecies  of  ma- 
chine;    but  flill    the  difcovery  of  the   law   itfelf 
is  owing  merely   to   experience,  and   all  the   ab- 
flradl    reafonin2;s    in   the   world  could    never  lead 
us  one  ftep  towards  the  knowledge  of  it.     When 
we  reafon  a  priori^   and  confider  merely   any  ob- 
je6l  or  caufe,  as  it  appears  to  the  aiind,  indepen- 
dent of  all  oblervation,  it  never  could   fuggeft  to 
us    the     notion   of    any    diliin6l    objefb,    fuch    as 
its    effeft  ;    much    lefs,    fliew    us    the    infeparable 
and  inviolable  connexion  between  them.     A  man 
muft  be  very  fagacious,    who    could    difcover  by 
reafoning,    that  cryftal  is  the  effed  of  heat,    and 
ice  of  cold,   without    being    previoufly   acquaint- 
ed  with  the  operation   of  thefe  qualities. 


PART 


Sceptical    Doubts.  35 

P     A     R     T       II. 

But  we  have  not,  yet,  attained  any  tolerable 
fatisfaction  with  regard  to  the  queftion  firft:  pro- 
pofed.  Each  folntion  fiill  gives  rife  to  a  new 
queftion  as  diflicult  as  the  foregoing,  and  leads 
us  on  to  farther  enquiries.  When  it  is  aficed, 
What  is  the  nature  of  all  our  reajomngs  concern- 
ing matter  of  fa£l  ?  the  proper  anfvv'er  feems 
to  be,  that  they  are  founded  on  the  relation  of 
caufe  and  effect.  When  again  it  is  aiked.  What 
is  the  foundation  of  all  our  reafonings  and  conclnfions 
concerning  that  relation?  it  in  ay  be  replied  in  one 
word.  Experience.  But  if  we  ftill  carry  on  our 
fifting  humour,  and  afk,  What  is  the  foundation  of 
all  conclnfions  from  experience  ?  this  implies  a  new 
queftion,  which  may  be  of  more  difficult  folu- 
tion  and  explication.  Philofophers,  that  give  them- 
felves  airs  of  fuperior  v/ifdom  and  fufficiency,  have 
a  hard  tafl<:,  when  they  encounter  perfons  of  in- 
quifitive  difpofitions,  who  pufli  them  from  every 
corner,  to  which  they  retreat,  and  who  are  fure  at 
laft  to  bring  them  to  fome  dangerous  dilemma. 
The  beft  expedient  to  prevent  this  confufion,  is 
to  be  modeft  in  our  pretenfions  ;  and  even  to  dif- 
cover  the  difncuky  ourfelves  before  it  is  objett- 
ed  to  us.  By  this  means,  we  may  make  a  kind 
of  merit  of  our  very  ignorance. 

I  fhall  content  myfeif,  in  this  fection,  with  an 
eafy  talk,  and  fliall  pretend  only  to  give  a  ne- 
gative anfwer  to  the  queftion  here  propofed.  I 
fay  then,  that,  even  after  we  have  experience  of 
the  operations  of  caufe  and  ePieft,  our  conclufi- 
ons  from  that  experience  are  not  founded  on  rea- 
foning,  or  any  procefs  of  the  underftanding.  This 
anfwer  we  muil  endeavour,  both  to  explain  and 
to  defend. 

D  2  It 


.36         SECTION       IV. 

It  mud  certainly  be  allowed,  that  nature  has 
kept  us  at  a  great  diftance  from  all  her  fecrets, 
and  has  afforded  us  only  the  knowledge  of  a  few 
fuperficial  qualities  of  objeds;  while  flie  conceals 
from  us  thofe  powers  and  principles,  on  which  the 
influence  of  thefe  obje6ls  entirely  depends.  Our 
fenfes  inform  us  of  the  colour,  weight,  and  con- 
fiflence  of  bread ;  but  neither  fenfe  nor  reafon 
can  ever  inform  us  of  thofe  qualities,  which  fit 
it  for  the  nouriihment  and  fupport  of  a  human 
body.  Sight  or  feeling  conveys  an  idea  of  the 
adlual  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  lofe  but  by  communicating  it 
to  others;  of  this  we  cannot  form  the  moft  diftant 
conception.  But  notwithftanding  this  ignorance 
of  natural  powers  *  and  principles,  we  always  pre- 
fume,  when  we  fee  like  fenfible  qualities,  tlwt  they 
have  like  fecret  powers,  and  expeft,  that  efi^efts, 
fimilar  to  thofe  which  we  have  experienced,  will 
follow  from  them.  If  a  body  of  like  colour  and 
confiflence  with  that  bread,  which  we  have  for- 
merly eat,  be  prefented  to  us,  we  make  no  fcruple 
of  repeating  the  experiment,  and  forefee,  with 
certainty,  like  nourifliment  and  fupport.  Now 
this  is  a  procefs  of  the  mind  or  thought,  of  which 
I  would  willingly  "know  the  foundation.  It  is  al- 
lowed on  all  hands,  that  there  is  no  known  con- 
nexion between  the  fenfible  qualities  and  the  fe- 
cret powers  ;  and  confequently,  that  the  mind  is 
not  led  to  form  fuch  a  conclufion  concerning  their 
conflant  and  regular  conjun6lion,  by  any  thing 
which  it  knows  of  their  nature.  As  to  pafl  Ex- 
^erienccj  it  can  be  allowed  to  give  di7'e^  and  cer- 
tain 

*  The  word,  Power,  is  here  ufed  in  a  loofeand  popular  fenfe. 
The  more  accurate  explication  of  it  would  give  additional  evi- 
dence to  this  argument.     Se    Seft.  7. 


Sceptical    Doubts.  37 

tain  information  of  thofe  precifc  objcdls  only,  and 
that  precife  period  of  time,  which  fell  under  its 
cognizance  :  But  why  this  experience  fhoiild  be 
extended  to  future  times,  and  to  other  objedls, 
which  for  aught  we  know,  may  be  only  in  ap- 
pearance fimilar ;  this  is  the  main  queftion  on 
which  I  would  infill.  The  bread,  which  I  formerly 
eat,  nourilhed  me^  that  is,  a  body  of  fuch  fenfible 
qualities  was,  at  that  time,  endued  with  fecret  powers: 
But  does  it  follow,  that  other  bread  muft  alfo 
nourifh  me  at  another  time,  and  that  like  fen- 
fible qualities  muft  always  be  attended  with  like 
fecret  powers  ?  The  confequence  feems  no  wife  ne- 
cefTary.  At  leall,  it  muft  be  acknowledged,  that 
there  is  here  a  confequence  drawn  by  the  mind  ; 
that  there  is  a  certain  ftep  taken  ;  a  procefs  of 
thought,  and  an  inference,  which  wants  to  be  ex- 
plained. Thefe  two  propofitions  are  far  from  be- 
ing the  fame,  /  have  found  that  Juch  an  ohjeSl  has' 
always  been  attended  with  fuch  an  effect y  and  I  fore^ 
fee,  that  other  objects,  which  are,  in  appearance^ 
fimilar,  will  be  attended  with  fimilar  effects.  I  Ihall 
allow,  if  you  pleafe,  that  the  one  propofition  may 
juftly  be  inferred  from  the  other:  I  know  in  facl» 
that  it  always  is  inferred.  But  if  you  infifl,  that 
the  inference  is  made  by  a  chain  of  reafoning,  I 
defire  you  to  produce  that  reafoning.  The  con- 
nexion between  thefe  propofitions  is  not  intuitive. 
There  is  required  a  medium,  which  may  enable  the 
mind  to  draw  fuch  an  inference,  if  indeed  it  be 
drawn  by  reafoning  and  argument.  What  that 
medium  is,  I  muft  confefs,  paflcs  my  apprehen- 
fion  ;  and  it  is  incumbent  on  thofe  to  produce  it, 
who  affert,  that  it  really  exifls,  and  is  the  origia 
of  all  our  conclufions  concerning  matter  of  fatt. 

This  negative  argument  muft  certainly,  in  pro- 
cefs of  time,  become  altogether  convincing,  if 
many  penetrating  and  able  philofophers  fhall  turn 
their  t'nquiries  this  way  j  and  no  one  be  ever  able 

to 

3 


38  SECTION       IV. 

to  difcover  ;iny  connefting  propolition  or  interme- 
diate Hep,  which  fiipports  the  underdanding  in 
this  conclufion.  But  as  the  queilion  is  yet  new, 
every  reader  may  not  truft  fo  far  to  his  own  pene- 
tration, as  to  conclude,  becaufe  an  argument 
elcapes  his  enquiry,  that  therefore  it  does  not 
really  exiit.  For  this  reafon  it  may  be  requifite  to 
venture  upon  a  more  difiicult  tafK  ;  and  enume- 
rating all  the  branches  of  human  knowledge,  en- 
deavour to  flievv,  that  none  of  them  can  afford 
fuch  an  argument. 

All  reafonings  may  be  divided  into  two  kinds, 
namely  demonfcrative  reafoning,  or  that  concern- 
ing relations  of  ideas,  and  moral  reafoning,  or 
that  concerning  matter  of  fa6t  and  exiftence.  That 
there  are  no  dcmonftrative  arguments  in  the  cafe, 
feems  evident ;  fince  it  implies  no  contradiction, 
that  the  courfe  of  nature  may  change,  and  that 
an  obje6l,  feemingly  like  thofe  which  we  have  ex- 
perienced, may  be  attended  w^ith  different  or  con- 
trary effeds.  May  I  not  clearly  and  diftindly 
conceive,  that  a  body,  falling  from  the  clouds, 
and  which,  in  all  other  refpedts,  refembles  fnow, 
has  yet  the  tafce  of  fait  or  feeling  of  fire  ?  Is 
there  any  more  intelligible  propofition  than  to  af- 
firm, that  all  the  trees  will  fiourilli  in  December 
and  January,  and  decay  in  May  and  June  ?  Now 
whatever  is  intelligible,  and  can  be  diftindly  con- 
ceived, implies  no  contradiction,  and  can  never 
be  proved  f^ilfe  by  any  demonftrative  argument 
or  abftrad  reafoning  a  priori. 

If  we  be,  therefore,  engaged  by  arguments  to 
put  truft  in  paft  experience,  and  make  it  the  ftan- 
dard  of  our  future  judgm.ent,  thefe  arguments 
muft  be  probable  only,  or  fuch  as  regard  matter 
of  fad  and  real  exiftence,  according  to  the  divifi- 
on  above  mentioned.  But  that  there  is  no  argu- 
ment of  this  kind,  muft  appear,  if  our  explication 
of  that  fpccies  of  reafoning  be  admitted  as  folid 

and 


Sceptical    Doubts.  39 

and  fatisfadory.  We  have  faid,  that  all  argu- 
ments concernino;  exiftence  are  founded  on  the  re- 
lation  of  caufe  and  efFcvit  j  that  our  knowledge  of 
that  relation  is  derived  entirely  from  experience  ; 
and  that  all  our  experimental  conclufions  proceed 
upon  the  fuppofition,  that  the  future  will  be  con- 
formable to  the  pafb.  To  endeavour,  therefore, 
the  proof  of  this  lail  fuppofition  by  probable  argu- 
ments, or  arguments  regarding  exiftence,  muft  be 
evidently  going  in  a  circle,  and  taking  that  for 
granted,  which  is  the  very  point  in  quefbion. 

In  reality,  all  arguments  from  experience  are 
founded  on  the  fimilarity,  which  we  difcover  among 
natural  objedls,,  and  by  which  wc  are  induced  to 
expect  efFeCls  fimilar  to  thofe,  which  we  have  found 
to  follow  from  fuch  objefts.  And  though  none 
but  a  fool  or  madman  will  ever  pretend  to  difpute 
the  .authority  of  experience,  or  to  rejefl  that  great 
guid^  oi  human  life  ;  it  may  fiirely  be  allowed  a 
philofopher  to  have  fo  inuch  curiofity  at  leaft,  as 
to  examine  the  principle  of  human  nature,  which 
gives  this  mighty  authority  to  experiencej  and 
makes  us  draw  advantage  from  that  fimilarity, 
which  nature  has  placed  among  different  obje£ls. 
From  caufes,  which  appear  fimilar^  we  expert 
fimilar  effeds.  This  is  the  fum  of  all  our  experi- 
mental conclufions.  Now  it  fcems  evident,  that,  if 
this  conclufion  were  formed  by  reafon,  it  would  be 
as  perfect  at  firft,  and  upon  one  inftance,  as 
after  ever  fo  long  a  courie  of  experience.  But 
the  cafe  is  far  otherwifj.  Nothing  fo  like  as 
eggs  j  yet  no  one,  on  account  of  fhis  appear- 
ing fimilarity,  expedts  the  fame  tafte  and  relifii 
in  all  of  them.  It  is  only  after  a  long  courfe 
of  uniform  experiments  in  any  kind,  that  we 
attain  a  firm  reliance  and  fecurity  with  regard 
to  a  particular  event.  Now  where  is  that  pro- 
cefs  of  reafoning,  which,  from  one  infi:ance, 
draws   a  conclufion,  fo  different  from  that  which 

it 


40  SECTION       IV. 

it  infers  from  a  hundred  inflances,  that  are  no- 
wife  diiix-rent  from  that  fingle  one  ?  This  quef- 
tion  I  prbpofe  as  much  for  the  fake  of  infor- 
mation, as  with  an  intention  of  raifing  difficul- 
ties. I  cannot  find,  1  cannot  imagine  any  fuch 
reafoning.  But  I  keep  my  mind  (till  open  to  in- 
llru(ftion,  if  any  one  will  vouchfafe  to  bellow  it  on 
me. 

Should  it  be  faid,  that,  from  a  number  of 
uniform  experiments,  we  bifer  a  connexion  be- 
tween the  fenfible  qualities  and  the  fecret  pov/ers  j 
this,  I  muft  confefs,  feems  the  fame  difficulty, 
couched  in  different  terms.  The  queftion  ftill 
recurs,  on  what  procefs  of  argument  this  infe- 
rence is  founded  ?  Where  is  the  medium,  the  in- 
terpofing  ideas,  which  join  propofitions  fo  very 
wide  of  each  other  ?  It  is  confelTed,  that  tlie  co- 
lour, confifbence,  and  other  fenfible  qualities  of 
bread  appear  not,  of  themfelves,  to  have  any  con- 
nexion with  the  fecret  powers  of  nourifliment  and 
fupport.  For  otherwife  we  could  infer  thefe  fe- 
cret powers  from  the  firit  appearance  of  thefe  fen- 
fible qualities,  without  the  aid  of  experience ; 
contrary  to  the  fentiment  of  all  philofophers,  and 
contrary  to  pli?iii  matter  of  faft.  Here  then  is 
our  natural  ftate  of  ignorance  with  regard  to  the 
powers  and  influence  of  all  objefts.  How  is  this  re- 
medied by  experience  ?  It  only  ffiews  us  a  num- 
ber of  uniform  effeds,  rcfulting  from  certain  ob- 
jects, and  teaches  us,  that  thofe  particular  ob- 
jedts,  at  that  particular  time,  were  endowed  with 
fuch  powers  and  forces.  When  a  new  objedl  en- 
dowed with  fimilar  fenfible  qualities,  is  produc- 
ed, we  expe6l  fimilar  powers  and  forces,  and 
look  for  a  like  effetl.  From  a  body  of  like 
colour  and  confiftence  with  bread,  we  expect 
like  nouriffiment  and  fupport.  But  this  furely 
is  a  Itep  or  progrefs  of  the  niind,  which  wants 
to  be  explained.     When  a  man  fays,  /  have  found, 

in 


Sceptical    D  o  u  n  t  s.  41 

;/;  nil  pajl  infianccs^  Juch  Jcnfible  qualities  conjoined 
ivith  Juch  Jecret  powers  :  And  then  he  fays,  Jimilar 
Jenfible  qualities  ivill  always  be  conjoined  zvith  ftmilar 
fecret  poivcrs ',  he  is  not  guilty  of  a  tautology,  nor 
are  thefe  propofitions  in  any  refpecft  the  fame. 
You  fay  that  the  one  propofition  is  an  inference 
from  the  other.  But  you  mull  confefs  that  the  in- 
ference  is  not  intuitive  j  neither  is  it  demonftra- 
tive  :  Of  wliat  nature  is  it  then  ?  To  fay  it  is  ex- 
perimentaJ,  is  begging  the  queftion.  For  all  infe- 
rences from  experience  fuppofe,  as  their  foundati- 
on, that  the  future  will  refemble  the  paft,  and 
that  fimilar  powers  will  be  conjoined  with  fimi- 
lar  fenfible  qualities.  If  there  be  any  fufpicion, 
that  the  courfe  of  nature  may  change,  and  that  the 
pall  may  be  no  rule  for  the  future,  all  experience 
becomes  ufelefs,  and  can  give  rife  to  no  inference 
or  conclufion.  It  is  impoilible,  therefore,  that 
any  arguments  from  experience  can  prove  this  re- 
femblance.  Let  the  courfe  of  things  be  allowed 
hitherto  ever  fo  regular  j  that  alone,  without  fome 
new  argument  or  inference,  proves  not,  that,  for 
the  future,  it  will  continue  fo.  In  vain  do  you 
pretend  ^to  have  learned  the  nature  of  bodies  from 
your  paft  experience.  Their  fecret  nature,  and 
confequently  all  their  eflcfts  and  inlluence,  may 
change,  without  any  change  in  their  fenfible  qua- 
lities. This  happens  fometimes,  and  with  regard 
to  fome  objefts  :  Why  may  it  not  happen  always, 
and  with  regard  to  all  objeds  ?  What  logic,  what 
procefs  of  argument  fecures  you  againft  this  fup- 
pofition  ?  My  praftice,  you  fay,  refutes  miy  doubt. 
But  you  mifiake  the  purport  of  my  queftion.  As 
an  agent,  I  am  quite  fatisfied  in  the  point;  but  as 
a  philofopher,  who  has  fome  fliare  of  curiofity,  I 
will  not  fay  fcepticifm,  I  want  to  learn  the  foun- 
dation of  this  inference.  No  reading,  no  enqui- 
ry has  yet  been  able  to  remove  my  difficulty,  or 
give  me  fatisfaclion  in  a  matter  of  fuch  impor- 
tance. 


42  SECTION       IV. 

tance.  Can  I  do  better  than  propofe  the  diffi- 
culty to  the  public,  even  though,  perhaps,  I  have 
fmall  hopes  of  obtaining  a  folution  ?  We  fhall 
at  leall,  by  this  means,  be  fenfible  of  our  igno- 
rance, if  we  do  not  augment  our  knov/ledge. 

I  mult  confefs,  that  a  man  is  guilty  of  unpar- 
donable arrogance,  who  concludes,  becaufe  an  ar- 
gument has  efcaped  his  own  invefligation,  that 
therefore  it  does  not  really  exill.  1  muft  alfo  con- 
fefs, that  though  all  the  learned,  for  feveral  ages, 
fhould  have  employed  themfelves  in  fruitlefs  fearch 
upon  any  fubje6t,  it  may  Hill,  perhaps,  be  rafh 
to  conclude  pofitively,  that  the  fubject  muft, 
therefore,  pafs  all  human  conprehenfion.  Even 
though  we  examine  all  the  fources  of  our  know- 
ledge, and  conclude  them  unfit  for  fuch  a  fub- 
je6l,  there  may  ftill  remain  a  fufpicion,  that  the 
enumeration  is  not  compleat,  or  the  exan^ination 
not  accurate.  But  with  regard  to  the  prefent  fub- 
jeft,  there  are  fome  confiderations,  which  feem  to 
remove  all  this  accufation  of  arrogance  or  fufpici- 
on of  miftake. 

It  is  certain,  that  the  moft  ignorant  and  ftupid 
peafants,  nay  infants,  nay  even  brute  be^s,  im- 
prove by  experience,  and  learn  the  qualities  of  na- 
tural objefls,  by  obferving  the  effects,  which  re- 
fult  from  them.  When  a  child  has  felt  the  fen- 
fation  of  pain  from  touching  the  flame  of  a  candle, 
he  will  be  careful  not  to  put  his  hand  near  any 
candle  i  but  will  expeCt  a  fimilar  efledt  from  a 
caufe,  which  is  fimilar  in  its  fenfible  qualities 
and  appearance.  If  you  affert,  therefore,  that  the 
underltanding  of  the  child  is  led  into  this  conclu- 
lion  by  any  procefs  of  argument  or  ratiocinati- 
on, I  may  juilly  require  you  to  produce  that 
argument  -,  nor  have  you  any  pretence  to  refufe 
fo  equitable  a  demand.  You  cannot  fay,  that 
the  argument  is  abflrufe,  and  may  poffible  ef- 
cape  your    enquiry  ;.  fince   Vv^u  contcfs,   that  it  is 

obvious 


Sceptical    Doubts.  43 

obvious  to  the  capacity  of  a  mere  infant.  If  you 
hefitatc,  therefore,  a  moment,  or  if,  after  reflec- 
tion, you  produce  any  intricate  or  profound  ar- 
gument, you,  in  a  manner,  give  up  the  queftion, 
and  confefs,  that  it  is  not  reafonins;  which  eno;ao-es 
US  to  fuppofe  the  pad  refembling  the  future,  and 
to  expedl  fimil  ir  effcfts  from  caufcs,  which  are,  to 
ajipearance,  fimilar.  This  is  tlie  propofition  which 
I  intended  to  enforce  in  theprefent  fetlion.  If  I  be 
right,  I  pretendnot  to  have  made  any  mighty  difco- 
very.  And  if  I  be  wrong,  I  mufl  acknowledge 
myfelf  to  be  indeed  a  very  backward  fcholar; 
Jlnce  I  cannot  now  difcover  an  argument,  which, 
it  feems,  was  perfectly  familiar  to  me,  long  be- 
fore I  v/as  out  of  my  cradle. 


(     45     ) 


SECTION       V. 

Sceptical  Solution  of  thcfe  Doubts. 

PART       1. 

X  HE  paflion  for  philofophy,  like  that  for  re- 
ligion, feems  liable  to  this  inconvenience,  that, 
though  it  aims  at  the  correftion  of  our  manners, 
and  extirpation  of  our  vices,  it  may  only  ferve,  by 
imprudent  management,  to  fofter  a  predominant 
inclination,  and  pufli  the  mind,  with  more  deter- 
mined refolution,  towards  that  fide,  which  alrea- 
dy dra\xjs  too  much,  by  the  biafs  and  propenfity  of 
the  natural  temper.  It  is  certain,  that,  while  we 
afpire  to  the  magnanimous  firmnefs  of  the  philofo- 
phic  fage,  and  endeavour  to  confine  our  pleafures 
altogether  within  our  own  minds,  we  may,  at  lad, 
render  our  philofophy  like  that  of  Epidetus,  and 
other  StoicSy  only  a  more  refined  fyftem  of  felfifh- 
nefs,  and  reafon  ourfelves  out  of  all  virtue,  as  well 
as  Ibcial  enjoyment.  While  we  Itudy  with  atten- 
tion the  vanity  of  human  life,  and  turn  all  our 
thoughts  towards  the  empty  and  tranfitory  nature 
of  riches  and  honours,  we  are,  perhaps,  all  the 
while,  liattering  our  natural  indolence,  which, 
hating  the  buftle  of  the  world,  and  drudgery  of 
bufinefs,  feeks  a  pretence  of  reafon,  to  give   itfelf 

a  full 


46  S    E     C    T     I     O    N      V. 

a  full  and  uncontrouled  indulgence.  There  is, 
however,  one  Ipecies  of  philofophy,  which  feems 
little  liable  to  this  inconvenience,  and  that  becaufe 
it  ftrikes  in  with  no  diforderly  paffion  of  the  hu- 
man mind,  nor  can  mingle  itfelf  with  any  natural 
affeftion  or  propenfity ;  and  that  is  the  Academic 
or  Sceptical  philofophy.  The  academics  always 
talk  of  doubt  and  fufpenfe  of  judgment,  of  danger 
in  hafty  determinations,  of  confining  to  very  nar- 
row bounds  the  enquiries  of  the  underfiranding, 
and  of  renouncing  all  fpeculations  which  lie  not 
v/ithin  the  limits  of  common  life  and  practice. 
Nothing,  therefore,  can  be  more  contrary  than 
fuch  a  philofophy  to  the  fupine  indolence  of  the 
mind,  its  ralli  arrogance,  its  lofty  pretenfions, 
and  itc  fuperftitious  credulity.  Every  palTion  is 
mortified  by  it,  except  the  love  of  truth  -,  and  that 
paffion  never  is,  nor  can  be  carried  to  too  high  a 
degree.  It  is  furprifing,  therefore,  that  this  phi- 
lofophy, which,  in  almoft  every  inftance,  muft  be 
harmlcfs  and  innocent,  fhould  be  the  fubjeft  of  fo 
much  groundlefs  reproach  and  obloquy.  But,  per- 
haps, the  very  circumftance,  which  renders  it  fo 
innocent,  is  what  chiefly  expofes  it  to  the  public 
hatred  and  refentment.  By  flattering  no  irregular 
paffion,  it  gains  few  partizans  :  By  oppofing  fo  ma- 
ny vices  and  follies,  it  raifes  to  itfeli  abundance 
of  en,emies,  Avho  ftigmatize  it  as  libertine,  pro- 
fane, and   irreligious. 

Nor  need  we  fear,  that  this  philofophy,  while  it 
endeavours  to  limit  our  enquiries  to  common  life, 
fliouid  ever  undermine  the  reafonings  of  common 
life,  and  carry  its  doubts  fo  far  as  to  deftroy  all 
aftion,  as  well  as  fpeculation.  Nature  will  always 
maintain  her  rights,  and  prevail  in  the  end  over 
any  abflrad  reafoning  whatlbever.  Though  we 
fl^ould  conclude,  for  inftance,  as  in  the  foregoing 
feftion,  that,  in  all  reafonings  from  experience, 
there  is  a  ftep  taken   by  the  mind,  which  is  not 

fup- 


Sceptical  Solution  of  thefe  Doubts.      47 

fupported  by  any  argument  or  procefs  of  the  un- 
derllanding  ;  there  is  no  danger,  that  thefe  reafon- 
ings,  on  which  ahnod  all  knowledge  depends, 
will  ever  be  affected  by  fuch  a  difcovery.  If  the 
mind  be  not  engaged  by  argument  to  make  this 
llep,  it  mull  be  induced  by  fome  other  principle 
of  equal  weight  and  authority  ;  and  that  principle 
will  preferve  its  influence  as  long  as  human  na- 
ture remains  the  fame.  What  the  principle  is, 
may  well  be  worth  the  pains  of  enquiry. 

Suppoie  a  perfon,  though  endowed  with  the 
ftrongeft:  faculties  of  reafon  and  ref^eclion,  to  be 
brought  on  a  fudden  into  this  world  ;  he  would, 
indeed,  immediately,  obferve  a  a  continual  fuccef- 
fion  of  objecls,  and  one  event  follow  another ; 
but  he  would  not  be  able  to  difcover  any  thing 
farther.  He  would  not,  at  firfl,  by  any  reafoning, 
be  able  to  reach  the  idea  of  caufe  and  efFed:; 
fince  the  particular  powers,  by  which  all  natural 
operations  are  performed,  never  appear  to  the 
fenles;  nor  is  it  reafbnable  to  conclude, .  merely 
becaufe  one  event,  in  one  inftance,  precedes  ano- 
ther, that  therefore  the  one  is  the  caufe,  the  other 
the  effect.  Their  conjunction  may  be  arbitrary 
and  cafual.  There  may  be  no  reafon  to  infer 
the  exiftence  of  one  from  the  appearance  of  the 
other.  And  in  a  word,  fuch  a  perfon,  without 
more  experience,  could  never  employ  his  conjec- 
ture or  reafoning  concerning  any  matter  of  ia6t, 
or  be  affured  of  any  thing  beyond  what  was  imme- 
diately prefent  to  his   memory  and  fenfes. 

Suppofe  again,  that  he  has  acquired  more  expe- 
rience, and  has  lived  fo  long  in  the  world  as  to 
have  obferved  fimilar  objefts  or  events  to  be  con- 
Itantly  conjoined  together ;  what  is  the  confe- 
quence  of  this  experience  ?  He  immediately  in- 
fers the  exiftence  of  one  obje6l  from  the  appear- 
ance of  the  other.  Yet  he  has  not,  by  all  his 
experience,    acquired   any   idea   or  knowledge   of 

the 


4S  S    E    C    T     I     O    N      V. 

the  fecret  power,  by  which  the  objeft  produces 
the  other ;  nor  is  it,  by  any  procefs  of  reafoning, 
he  is  engaged  to  draw  this  inference.  But  ftill  he 
finds  himfelf  determined  to  draw  it :  And  though 
he  fhould  be  convinced,  that  his  underftandinor 
has  no  part  in  the  operation,  he  v/ould  never- 
thelefs  continue  in  the  fame  courfe  of  thinking. 
There  is  fome  other  principle,  which  determines 
him  to  form  fuch   a  conclufion. 

This  principle  is  Cuftom  or  Habit.     For  where- 
ever  the  repetition  of  any   particular  aft  or  opera- 
tion, without   being  impelled  by  any  rcafoning  or 
procefs  of  the  underftanding ;  we  always  fay,  that 
this   propenfity  is  the  effeft  of  Cuftom.      By  em- 
ploying  that   word,    we   pretend  not  to  have  gi- 
ven   the    ultimate    reafon   of  fuch    a    propenfity. 
"We  only    point    out   a    principle   of   human   na- 
ture,   which    is    univerf.dly    acknowledged,    and 
which  is  well  known   by   its  effedts.     Perhaps,  we 
can  puili  our  enquiries  no  farther,  or   pretend  to 
give  the  caufe  of  this    caufe ,  but  muft  rcll  con- 
tented with  it    as   the   ultimate  principle,    which 
•we  can  affign,  of  all  our  conclufions  from  expe- 
rience.    It  is  fufficient   fatisfaclion,  that  we  can  go 
fo  far;  without  repining  at  the  narrownefs  of  our 
faculties,    becaufe  they    will    carry  us  no   farther. 
And  it  is   certain  we  here  advance   a   very  intelli- 
gible propofition  at  lealt,  if  not  a  true  one,  v/hen 
we  affert,  that,  after  the  conftant  conjundtion  of 
two  objedts,  heat  and  flame,  for  inftance,  weight 
and  folidity,  we  are  determined  by  cuftom  alone 
to   expedl   the    one    from    the   appearance  of  the 
other.     This  hypothefis  fccms  even  the  only  one, 
which  explains  the  difficulty,  why  we  draw,  from 
a  thoufand   inftances,  an   inference,  which  we  are 
not  able  to   draw    from    one   inftance,  that   is,  in 
no    refpeft,  different  from   them.      Reafon  is   in- 
capable of  any   fuch  variation.     The   conclufions, 
which  it  draws  from  confidering   one  circle,    are 

the 


Sceptical  Solutiov  of  thcfe  Doubts.      49 

the  fame  which  it  would  form  upon  furveying  all 
the  circles  in  the  univerfe.  But  no  man,  hav- 
ing feen  only  one  body  move  after  being  im- 
pelled by  another,  could  infer,  that  every  other 
body  will  move  after  a  like  impulfe.  All  infer- 
ences from  experience,  therefore,  are  efFe<5ls  of 
cuftom,  not  of  reafonino;  *. 

Cufcom,  then,  is  tlie  great  guide  of  human 
life.  It  is  that  principle  alone,  vvhich  renders 
our  experience  ufeful  to  us,  and  makes  us  ex- 
pedl,  for  the  future,  a  fimilar  train  of  events 
with  thole  which  have  appeared  in  the  paft. 
"Without  the  influence  of  cullom,  we  Ihould  be 
entirely  ignorant  of  every  matter  of  faft,  beyond 
what  is  immediately  prefent  to  the  memory  and 
fenfes.  We  fhould  never  knov/  how  to  adjuft 
means  to  ends,  or  to  employ  our  natural  pow- 
ers in  the  produ6lion  of  any  effedl.  There  would 
be  an  end  at  once  of  all  a(5tion,  as  well  as  of 
the   chief  part   of  fpeculation. 

But  here  it  may  be  proper  to  remark,  that 
though  our  conclufions  from  experience  carry  us 
beyond  our  memory  and  fenfes,  and  affure  us  of 
matters  of  fa(5b,  which  happened  in  the  moft  dif- 
tant  places  and  moft  remote  ages;  yet  fome  fad: 
iiHift  always  be  prefent  to  the  fenfes  or  memo- 
ry, from  whence  we  may  firft  proceed  in  draw- 
ing thefe  conclufions.  A  man,  who  fliould  find 
in  a  defert  country  the  remains  of  pompous  build- 
ings, would  conclude,  that  the  country  had,  in 
ancient  times,  been  cultivated  by  civilized  inha- 
bitants i  but  did  nothing  of  this  nature  occur  to 
him,  he  could  never  form  fuch  an  inference. 
We  learn  the  events  of  former  ages  from  hifto- 
ry  ;  but  then  we  muft  perufe  the  volumes,  in 
which  this  inftruction  is  contained,  and  thence 
carry  up  our  inferences  from  one  teftimony  to 
Vol,  II,  E  another, 

*  See  NOTE  [BJ. 


50  S    E    C    T     1    O    N      V. 

another,  till  we  arrive  at  the  eye-witnefTes  SncJ 
fpedators  of  thefe  diftant  events.  In  a  word,  if 
we  proceed  n^ot  upon  fome  fad:,  prefent  to  the 
memory  or  fenfes,  our  reafonings  would  be  mere- 
ly hypothetical  ;  and  however  the  particular  links- 
might  be  connetled  v/ith  each  other,  the  whole 
chain  of  inferences  would  have  nothing  to  fup- 
port  it,  nor  could  we  ever,  by  its  means,  ar- 
rive at  the  knowledge  of  any  real  exiftence.  If 
I  afis;,  vv'hy  you  believe  any  particular  matter  of 
fadt,  which  you  relate,  you  muft  tell  me  fome 
reafon  ;  and  this  reafon  will  be  fome  other  fad, 
connefted  with  it.  But  as  you  cannot  proceed 
after  this  manner,  in  infinitia-n.^  you  mufl  at  laft 
terminate  in  fome  fad:,  which  is  prefent  to  your 
memory  or  fenfes ;  or  muft  allow  that  your  belief 
is  entirely  without  foundation. 

What  then  is  the  conclullon  of  the  whole  matter ; 
A  fimple  one  j  though,  it  muft  be  confefled,  pret- 
ty remote  from  the  common  theories  of  philofo- 
phy.  All  belief  of  matter  of  fa6l  or  real  exiftence 
is  derived  merely  from  fome  objedt,  prefent  to  the 
memory  or  fenfes,  and  a  cuflomary  conjunftion 
between  that  and  fome  other  objeft.  Or  in  other 
Words ;  having  found,  in  many  inilances,  that  any 
two  kinds  of  objects,  flame  and  heat,  fnow  and 
cold,  have  always  been  conjoined  together ;  if 
fiamc  or  fnow  be  prefcnted  anew  to  the  fenfes, 
the  mind  is  carried  by  cuftom  to  expert  heat  or 
cold,  and  to  believe^  that  f  .ch  a  quality  docs  ex- 
ift,  and  will  difcover  itfelf  upon  a  nearer  approach. 
This  belief  is  the  necellary  refult  of  placing  the 
mind  in  fuch  circumftances.  It  is  an  operation  of 
the  foul,  when  we  are  fo  fituated,  as  unavoidable 
as  to  feel  the  pailion  of  love,  when  we  receive 
benefits  i  or  hatred,  when  we  meet  with  injuries. 
All  thefe  operations  are  a  fpecies  of  natural  in- 
ftincls,  which  noreafoning  or  procefs  of  the  thought 

anci 


Sceptical  Solution  of  chefe  DciucTS.       rf 

and   iinderftanding    is  able,  cither  to  produce,  or 
to   prevent. 

At  this  point,  it  would  be  very  aliov/able  for 
us  to  flop  our  philofophical  refearches.  In  mod 
queftions,  we  can  never  make  a  fingle  ilcp  fartlier; 
and  in  all  qucflions,  we  miiO;  terininate  here  at 
laft,  after  our  moft  refrlefs  and  curious  enquiries. 
But  ftill  our  curiofity  will  be  pardonable,  per- 
haps commendable,  if  it  carry  us  on  to  Itill  far- 
ther refearches,  and  make  us  examine  more  accu- 
rately the  nature  oi' this  hliefj  znd  o{  the  cu/lo;na- 
ry  conjun^ion^  whence  it  is  derived.  By  this  means 
we  may  meet  with  fome  explications  and  anjlogies, 
that  will  give  fatisfa6lion ;  at  leaft  to  fuch  as  love 
rhe  abfl:ra(fi:  fciences,  and  can  be  entertained  with 
fpeculations,  whicr,,  however  accurate,  may  ftill  re- 
tain a  degree  of  doubt  and  uncertainty.  As  to 
readers  of  a  different  tafte ;  the  remaining  part  of 
this  fe6lion  is  not  calculated  for  them,  and  the  fol- 
lowing enquiries  may  well  be  underllood,  though 
it  be  negletled. 

P     A-    R     T       II. 

Nothing  is  more  free  than  the  imagination  of 
man  ;  and  though  it  cannot  exceed  that  original 
Itock  of  ideas,  furniihed  by  the  internal  and  ex- 
ternal fenfes,  it  has  unlimited  pov/er  of  mixing, 
compounding,  feparating,  and  dividing  thefe  ideas, 
in  all  the  varieties  of  hction  and  vifjon.  It  can 
feign  a  train  of  events,  v/ith  all  the  appearance  of 
reality,  afcribe  to  them  a  particular  time  and  place, 
conceive  them  as  exiltent,  and  paint  rhem  out  to 
itfelf  with  every  circumftance,  that  belongs  to  any 
hiftorical  faft,  which  it  believes  with  the  crreateft 
certainty.  Wnerein,  tlierefore,  con  nils  the  differ- 
ence between  fuch  a  fiction  and  belief?  It  lies  not 
merely  in  any  peculiar  idea,  which  is  annexed  to 
fuch  a  conception  as  commands  our  alTent,  and 
E  2  which 


52  S    E    C    T    I    O    N      V. 

which  is  wanting  to  every  known  ficlion.  For  as- 
the  mind  has  authority  over  all  its  ideas,  it  could 
voluntarily  annex  this  particular  idea  to  any  fidlion, 
and  confequently  be  able  to  believe  whatever  it 
plcafes  ;  contrary  to  what  we  find  by  daily  experi- 
ence. We  can,  in  our  conception,  join  the  head 
of  a  man  to  the  body  of  a  horfe  ;  but  it  is  not  in  our 
povi^er  to  believe,  that  fuch  an  animal  has  ever  really 
exifted. 

It  follows,  therefore,  that  the  difference  between 
fi^icn  and   belief  lies  in  fome   fentiment  or  feeling, 
which  is  annexed  to  the  latter,  not  to  the  former, 
and  which  depends  not  on  the  will,  nor  can  be  com- 
manded at  pleafure.     It  mull  be  excited  by  nature, 
like  all  other  fentiments  j  and  mufb  arife  from  the 
particular  fituation,  in  which  the  mind  is  placed  at 
any  particular  juntlure.     Whenever  any  objedt  is 
•prefented  to  the  memory  or  fenfes,  it  immediately, 
by  the  force  ofcuilom,  carries  the  imagination  to 
conceive  that  objed:,  which   is  ufually  conjoined  to 
it ;  and  this  conception  is  attended  with   a  feeling 
or  fentiment,  different  froni  the  loofe   reveries   of 
the  fancy.     In  this  ccnfifls  the  whole  nature  of  be- 
lief.    For  as  there  is  no  matter  of  faft  which  we  be- 
lieve fo  firmly,  that  we  cannot  conceive  the  contra- 
ry, there  would  be  no  difiercnce  between  the  con- 
ception affented  to,  and  that  which  is  rejecfled,  were 
it  not  for  fome   fentiment,  which  diftinguilhes  the 
one  from  the  other.     If  I  fee  a  billiard-ball  moving 
towards   another,  on   a  fmooth  table,  I  can   cafily 
conceive  it  to  ilop  upon  contact.     This  conception 
implies  no  contradidion  j  but  ilill  it  feels  very  dif- 
ferently from  that  conception,  by  which  I  reprefent 
to  myfelf  the   impulfe,  and   the  communication  of 
motion  from  one  ball  to  another. 

Were  we  to  attempt  a  definition  of  this  fentiment, 

we  ffiould,  perhaps,  find  it  very  difficult,  if  not  an 

impoffible  talk;  in  the  fame  manner  as  if  we  fiiould 

endeavour  to  define  the  fcelmg  of  cold  or  paffion  of 

3  an^rer. 


Sceptical  Solution  of  thefe  Doubts.       5j 

anger,  to  a  creature  who  never  had  any  experience 
of  thefe  fentimenrs.  Belief  is  tlic  true  and  proper 
name  of  this  feeling  j  and  no  one  is  ever  at  a  lols  to 
know  the  meaning  of  that  term;  becaufe  every  man 
is  every  moment  confcious  of  the  fentiment  repre- 
fented  by  it.  It  may  not,  however,  be  improper 
to  attempt  a  defcrvption  of  this  fentiment;  in  hopes 
we  may,  by  that  means,  arrive  at  fome  analogies, 
which  may  afford  a  more  perfect  explication  of  it. 
I  fay  then,  that  belief  is  nothing  but  a  more  vivid, 
lively,  forcible,  firm,  fteady  conception  of  an  ob- 
jedl,  than  what  the  imagination  alone  is  ever  able 
to  attain.  This  variety  of  terms,  which  may  feem 
fo  unphilofophical,  is  intended  only  to  exprefs  that 
a6t  of  the  mind,  which  renders  realities,  or  what  is 
taken  for  fuch,  more  prefent  to  us  than  fi6lions, 
caufes  them  to  weigh  more  in  the  thought,  and 
gives  them  a  fuperior  influence  en  the  pafTions  and 
imagination.  Provided  we  ag^'ee  about  the  thing, 
it  is  needlefs  to  difpute  about  the  terms.  The  ima- 
gination has  the  command  over  all  its  ideas,  and 
can  join  and  mix  and  vary  them,  in  all  the  ways 
poflible.  It  may  conceive  fiftitious  obje6ls  with  all 
the  circumftances  of  place  and  time.  It  may  fet 
them,  in  a  manner,  before  our  eyes,  in  their  true 
colours,  jufl:  as  they  might  have  exifted.  But  as 
it  is  impofllble,  that  this  faculty  of  imagination  can 
€ver,  of  icfelf,  reacii  belief,  it  is  evident,  tiiat  be- 
lief confiils  not  in  the  peculiar  nature  or  order  of 
ideas,  but  in  \kv^  manner  of  their  conception,  and  in 
tht'w  feeling  to  the  mind.  1  confefs,  that  it  is  im- 
pofllble perfedly  to  explain  this  feeling  or  manner 
of  conception.  We  may  make  ufe  of  words,  which 
exprefs  fomething  near  it.  But  its  true  and  proper 
name,  as  we  obferved  before,  is  belief;  which  is  a 
term,  that  every  one  fufficiently  underfl:ands  in 
common  life.  And  in  philofophy,  we  can  go  no 
farther  than  aflert,  that  belief  is  fomething  felt  by 
,  the  mindj  which  dillinguifhes  the  ideas  of  the  judg- 
ment 


54  S     E     C     T     I     O     N      V. 

ment  from  the  fidions  of  the  imagination.  It 
gives  them  more  weight  and  influence  3  makes  them 
appear  of  greater  importance  ^  inforces  them  in  the 
mind  j  and  renders  them  the  governing  principle 
of  our  adions.  I  hear  at  prefent,  for  inllance,  a 
perfon's  voice,  with  whom  I  am  acquainted ;  and 
the  found  comes  as  from  the  next  room.  This  im- 
preflion  of  my  fenfes  immediately  conveys  my 
thought  to  the  perfon,  together  with  all  the  fur- 
rounding  obje(5i:s,  I  paint  them  out  to  myfelf  a? 
exiiling  at  prefent,  with  the  fame  qualities  and  re- 
lations, of  vv'hich  I  formerly  knew  them  poifefTed. 
Thefe  ideas  take  fader  hold  of  my  mind,  than  ideas 
of  an  enchanted  caftle.  They  are  very  different  to 
the  feeling,  and  have  a  much  greater  influence  of 
every  kind,  either  to  give  pleafure  or  pain,  joy  or 
forrow. 

Let  us,  then,  take  in  the  whole  compafs  of  this 
doftrine,  and  allow,  that  the  fentiment  of  belief  is 
nothing  but  a  conception  more  intenfe  and  fteady 
than  what  attends  the  mere  fictions  of  the  imagina- 
tion, and  that  this  manner  of  conception  arifes  from 
a  cuflomary  conjundlion  of  the  object  with  fome- 
thing  prefent  to  the  memory  or  fenfes  :  I  believe 
that  it  will  not  be  difficult,  upon  thefe  fuppofitions, 
to  find  other  operations  of  the  mind  analogous  to  it, 
and  to  trace  up  thefe  phienomena  to  principles  Hill 
■more  general. 

We  have  already  obferved,  that  nature  has  ella- 
blilTied  connexions  among  particular  ideas,  and  that 
no  fooner  one  idea  occurs  to  our  thoughts  than  it 
introduces  its  correlative,  and  carries  our  attention 
towards  it,  by  a  gentle  and  infenflble  movement. 
Thefe  principles  of  connexion  oralTociation  we  have 
reduced  to  three,  namely,  Refemblance-,  Conti^nityj 
and  Caufation;  v/hich  are  the  only  bonds,  that  unite 
our  thoughts  together,  and  beget  that  regular 
train  of  refledion  or  difcourfe,  which,  in  a  greater 
or  Icfs  degree,  takes  place   among  all   mankind. 

Now 


Sceptical  Solution  of  thefe  Doubts.        55 

How  here  arifes  a  queftion,  on  which  the  folution 
of  the  prefenc  difficulty  will  depend.  Does  it  hap- 
pen, in  all  thefe  relations,  that,  when  one  of  the 
objefls  is  prefentcd  to  the  fenfes  or  memory,  the 
inind  is  not  only  carried  to  the  conception  of  the 
correlative,  but  reaches  a  Headier  and  llronger  con- 
ception of  it  than  what  otherwife  it  would  have  been 
able  to  attain  ?  This  feems  to  be  the  cafe  with  that 
belief,  which  arifes  from  the  relation  of  caufe  and 
cffeft.  And  if  the  cafe  be  the  fame  with  the  other 
relations  or  principles  of  alFociation,  this  may  be 
eflablifiied  as  a  general  law,  which  takes  place  in 
all  the  operations  of  the  mind. 

We  may,  therefore,  obferve,  as  the  firft  expe- 
riment to  our  prefent  purpofe,  that,  upon  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  pidture  of  an  abfent  friend,  our 
idea  of  him  is  evidently  enlivened  by  the  rejemblancey 
and  that  every  paffion,  which  that  idea  occafions, 
whether  of  joy  or  forrow,-  acquires  new  force  and 
vigour.  In  producing  this  efFeft,  there  concur 
both  a  relation  and  a  prefent  imprefTion.  Where 
the  pidlure  bears  him  no  refemblance,  at  leall  was 
not  intended  for  him,  it  never  fo  much  as  conveys 
our  thought  to  him  :  And  where  it  is  abfent,  as 
well  as  the  perfon  j  though  the  mind  may  pafs  from 
the  thought  of  the  one  to  that  of  the  other  j  it  feels 
its  idea  to  be  rather  weakened  than  enlivened  by 
that  tranfition.  We  take  a  pleafure  in  viewing  the 
picture  of  a  friend,  when  it  is  let  before  us  j  but 
when  it  is  removed,  rather  chufe  to  confider  him 
direftly,  than  by  reile6lion  in  an  image,  which  i$ 
equally  diftant  and  obfcure. 

The  ceremonies  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion 
may  be  confidered  as  inftances  of  the  fame  nature. 
The  devotees  of  thatfuperftition  ufually  plead  in  ex- 
cufe  for  the  mummeries,  with  which  they  are  upbraid- 
ed, that  they  feel  the  good  effeft  of  thofe  external 
piotions,  and  poftures,  and  aftions,  in  enlivening 

their 


56  S     E     C     T     I     O     N      V. 

their  devotion  and  quickening  their  fervour,  which 
otherwife  would  decay,  if  direfted  entirely  to  dif- 
tant  and  ini.naterial  objedts.  We  fhadov/  out  the 
objetts  of  our  faith,  fay  they,  in  fenfible  types  and 
images,  and  render  them  more  prefent  to  us  by  the 
immediate  prefence  of  thefe  types,  than  it  is  pofTi- 
ble  for  us  to  do,  merely  by  an  intelledual  view 
and  contemplation.  Senfible  objects  have  always 
a  greater  intiuence  on  the  fancy  than  any  other; 
and  this  influence  they  readily  convey  to  thofe 
ideas,  to  which  they  are  related,  and  which  they 
refemble.  I  fhali  only  infer  from  thefe  praftices, 
and  this  reafoning,  that  the  effedl  of  refemblance 
in  enlivening  the  ideas  is  very  common  ;  and  as  in 
every  cafe  a  refemiblance  and  a  prefent  impreffion 
mufc  concur,  we  are  abundantly  fupplied  with  ex- 
periments to  prove  the  reality  of  the  foregoing  prin- 
ciple. 

Vv^e  may  add  force  to  thefe  experiments  by  others 
of  a  different  kind,  in  confidering  the  effects  of 
contiguity  as  well  as  of  rejemhlance.  It  is  certain, 
that  diftance  diminifhes  the  force  of  every  idea,  and 
that,  upon  our  approach  to  any  objecl;  though  it 
does  not  difcover  itfelf  to  our  fenfesj  it  operates 
upon  the  mind  with  an  influence,  which  imitates  an 
immediate  impreffion.  The  thinking  on  any  objedl 
readily  tranfports  the  mind  to  what  is  contiguous  s 
but  it  is  only  the  a6lual  prefence  of  an  objeft,  that 
tranfports  it  v/ith  a  fiiperior  vivacity.  When  I  am 
a  few  miles  from  home,  whatever  relates  to  it 
touches  me  m.ore  nearly  than  when  I  am  two  hun- 
dred leagues  diftant ;  though  even  at  that  diftance 
the  reflecting  on  any  thing  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  my  friends  or  family  naturally  produces  an  idea 
of  them.  But  as  in  this  latter  cafe,  both  the  ob- 
jedls  of  the  mind  are  ideas;  notwithftanding  there 
is  an  eafy  tranfition  between  them ;  that  tranfition 
alone  is  not  able  to  give  a  fuperior  vivacity  to  any 

of 


Sceptical  Solution  of  thefe  Doubts.       57 

of  the  ideas,  for  want  of  fome   immediate  imprcf- 
fion  *. 

No  one  can  doubt  but  caiifation  has  the  fame  in- 
fluence as  the  other  two  relations  of  refemblance 
and  contiguity.  Superftitious  people  are  fond  of 
the  reiiques  of  faints  and  holy  men,  for  the  fame 
reafon,  that  they  feek  after  types  or  images,  in  or- 
der to  enliven  their  devotion,  and  give  them  a  more 
intimate  and  ftrong  conception  of  thofe  exemplary 
jives,  which  they  defire  to  imitate.  Now  it  is  evi- 
dent, that  one  of  the  beft  reliques,  which  a  devotee 
could  procure,  would  be  the  handywork  of  a  faint; 
and  if  his  cloaths  and  furniture  are  ever  to  be  con- 
fidered  in  this  light,  it  is  becaufe  they  were  once  at 
hisdifpofal,  and  were  moved  and  affected  by  him; 
in  which  refpeft  they  are  to  be  confidered  as  imper- 
fe6l  effcAs,  and  as  connecfted  with  him  by  a  fhorter 
chain  of  confequences  than  any  of  thofe,  by  which 
we  learn  the  reality  of  his  exiftence. 

Suppofe,  that  the  fon  of  a  friend,  who  had  been 
long  dead  or  abfent,  were  prefented  to  us ;  it  is 
evident,  that  this  objefl:  would  inftantly  revive  its 
correlative  idea,  and  recal  to  our  thoughts  all  paft 
intimacies  and  familiarities,  in  more  lively  colours 

than 

•  *'  Naturane  nobis,  inquit,  datum  dicam,  an  errore  qoo- 

•'  dam,  ut,  cum  ea  loca  videainus,  in  quibus   memoria  dignos 

''  viros  accepeiimus   multum   efie  verfaios,  magis    moveamur, 

''  quam  fiquando  eorum  ipforum  aut  fada  audiamus  aut  fcrip- 

*'  turn   aliquod   Icgamus  ?     Velut   ego   nunc  moveor.       Venit 

"  enim   mihi   Platonis    in    mentem,    quern    accepimus   pri- 

"  mum  hie    difputare  folitum  :   Cujus  etiam  illi  hortuii  propin- 

"  qui   non    memoriam   folum   mihi  afterunt,  fed   ipfum  viden- 

<'  tur   in    confpeftu   meo  hie  ponere.     Hie  Speusippus,  hie 

"  Xenocrates,    hie  ejus    auditor  Polemo  ;    cujus   ipfa   ilia 

«'  felBo    iuit,  quam   videamus.      Equidem   etiam   curiam  nof- 

"  tram  Hostilia.m  dico,   non   hanc   novam,  quse  mihi  minor 

"  efle  videtur   poftquam   ell  major,  folebam  intuens,  Scipio- 

"  NEM,  Catonem,   L^.lium,  noftriim  vcro   in  primis  avum 

"  cogitare.     Tanta  vis   admonitionis  eft  in   locis  ;  ut  non  fine 

"  caufa   ex   his   mcmorias  dedufta  fit    difciplina."      CiCBRt 

de  Finilus.      Lib»v. 


85  S    E     C    T     I     O    N      V. 

than  tliey  would  otherwife  have  appeared  to  us. 
This  is  a:u)ther  phenomenon,  which  leems  to  prove 
the  principle  above-mentioned. 

We  may  obferve,  that,  in  thefe  phasnomena,  the 
belief  of  the  correlative  object  is  always  prefup- 
pofed ;  without  vvhich  the  relation  could  have  no 
efTcft.  The  influence  of  the  pidure  fuppofes,  that 
we  believe  our  friend  to  have  once  exiiied.  Con- 
tiguity to  home  can  never  excite  our  ideas  of  home, 
unkTs  we  believe  that  it  really  exiils.  Now  I  aflert, 
that  this  belief,  where  it  reaches  beyond  the  me- 
mory or  fenfes,  is  of  a  fimilar  nature,  and  arifes 
from  fimilar  caufes,  with  the  tranfition  of  thought 
and  vivacity  of  conception  here  explained.  When 
I  throw  a  piece  of  dry  wood  into  a  fire,  my  mind 
is  immediately  carried  to  conceive,  that  it  augments, 
not  extinguiflies  the  flame.  This  tranfition  of 
thought  from  the  caufe  to  the  efi^ecl  proceeds  not 
from  reafon.  It  derives  its  origin  altos-ether  from 
cuilom  and  experience.  And  as  it  firfl:  begins  from 
an  object,  prelent  to  the  fenfes,  it  renders  the  idea 
or  conception  of  flame  more  flirong  and  lively  than 
any  loofe,  floating  reverie  of  the  imiagination.  That 
idea  arifes  immediately.  The  thought  moves  in- 
ilantly  towards  it,  and  conveys  to  it  all  that  force 
of  conception,  which  is  derived  from  the  imprefli- 
on  prefent  to  the  fenfes.  When  a  fvvord  is  levelled 
at  my  breafl:,  does  not  the  idea  of  wound  and  pain 
ftrike  me  more  ftrongly,  than  when  a  glafs  of  wine 
i^  prefented  to  me,  even  though  by  accident  this 
idea  fliould  occur  after  the  appearance  of  the  latter 
objed:?  But  what  is  there  in  this  whole  matter  to 
caufe  fuch  a  Itrong  conception,  except  only  a  pre- 
fent objeft  and  a  cufl:omary  tranfition  to  the  idea 
of  another  objedl,  which  we  have  been  accufl:omed 
Xo  conjoin  with  the  former  ?  This  is  the  whole  ope- 
ration of  the  mind,  in  all  our  conclufions  concern- 
ing matter  of  fad  and  exiltencc;  and  it  is  a  fatif- 
fadion  to  find  Ibmc  analogies,  by  which  it  may  be 

explained. 


Sceptical  Solution  of  thefe  Doubts.       59 

exphiined.  The  tranfition  from  a  prefent  object 
tlocs  in  all  cafes  give  ftrength  and  folidity  to  the  re- 
lated idea. 

Here,  then,  is  a  kind  of  pre-eftablifl-ied  harmo- 
ny between  the  coiirfe  of  nature  and  the  fuccefTion 
of  our  ideas  ;  and  though  the  powers  and  forces, 
by  which  the  former  is  governed,  be  wholly  un- 
known to  us ;  yet  our  thoughts  and  conceptions 
have  ftilj,  we  find,  gone  on  in  the  fame  train  with 
the  other  works  of  nature.  Cultom  is  that  princi- 
ple, by  which  this  correfpondence  has  been  effedled; 
lb  necelTary  to  the  fubfillence  of  our  fpecies,  and 
the  regulation  of  our  condu6t,  in  every  circumftance 
and  pccurrence  of  human  life.  Had  not  the  pre- 
fence  of  an  object  inftantly  excited  the  idea  of  thofc 
objects,  commonly  conjoined  with  it,  all  our  know- 
ledge mult  have  been  limited  to  the  narrow  fphere 
of  our  memory  and  fenfes  -,  and  we  fhould  never 
have  been  able  to  adjuft  means  to  ends,  or  employ 
our  natural  powers,  either  to  the  producing  of  good, 
or  avoiding  of  evil.  Thofe,  who  delight  in  the  dif- 
covery  and  contemplation  oi  final  caujesy  have  here 
ample  fubject  to  employ  their  wonder  and  ad- 
miration. 

I  fhall  add,  for  a  further  confirmation  of  the 
foregoing  theory,  that,  as  this  operation  of  the  mind, 
by  which  we  infer  like  efi'e6ts  from  like  caufes,  and 
vice  verjuy  is  fo  eflential  to  the  fubfiftence  of  all  hu- 
man creatures,  it  is  not  probable,  that  it  could  be 
trufted  to  the  fallacious  deductions  of  our  reafon, 
which  is  flow  in  its  operations;  appears  not,  in  any 
degree,  during  the  firft  years  of  infancy;  and  at 
belt  is,  in  every  age  and  period  of  human  life,  ex- 
tremely liable  to  error  and  miftake.  It  is  more 
conformable  to  the  ordinary  wifdom  of  nature  to 
fecure  fo  neceflary  an  a6t  of  the  mind,  by  fome  in- 
ftinct  or  mechanical  tendency,  which  may  be  infal- 
lible in  its  operations,  may  difcover  itfelf  at  the 
firft  appearance   of  life  and  thought,  and  may  be 

independent 


6o  S     E    C    T     I     O    N      V. 

independent  of  all  the  laboured  dedudions  of  the 
underftanding.  As  nature  has  taught  us  the  ufe  of 
our  limbs,  without  giving  us  the  knowledge  of  the 
mufcles  and  nerves,  by  which  they  are  aduated  ;  {o 
has  fhe  implanted  in  us  an  inftinft,  which  carries 
forward  the  thought  in  a  correfpondent  courfe  to 
that  which  fhe  has  eftablifhed  among  external  ob- 
je6ls ;  though  we  are  ignorant  of  thofe  powers  and 
forces,  on  which  this  regular  courfe  and  fucceflion 
of  objed:s  totally  depends. 


S  E  C- 


(  6i  ; 


SECTION      VI. 

Of.PROBABILI  TY*. 

X  HOUGH  there  be  no  fuch  thing  as  Chance. 
in  the  world  j  our  ignorance  of  the  real  caufe 
of  any  event  has  the  fame  influence  en  the  un- 
derftanding,  and  begets  a  like  fpecies  of  belief 
or  opinion. 

There  is  certainly  a  probability,  which  arifes. 
from  a  fuperiority  of  chances  on  any  fide;  and 
according  as  this  fuperiority  encreafes,  and  fur- 
pafles  the  oppofite  chances,  the  probability  re- 
ceives a  proportionable  encreafe,  and  begets  fbill 
a  higher  degree  of  belief  or  aflent  to  that  fide, 
in  which  we  difcover  the  fuperiority.  If  a 
dye  were  marked  with  one  figure  or  number  of 
fpots  on  four  fides,  and  with  anothe*-  figure  or 
number  of  fpots  on  the  two  remaining  fides,  it 
would  be  more  probable,  that  the  former  would 
turn  up  than  the  latter;  though,  if  it  had  a  thou- 
fand  fides  marked  in  the  fame  manner,  and  only 
one  fide  diff'erent,  the  probability  would  be  much 
higher,  and  our  belief  or  expectation  of  the  event 

more 

•  Mr.  Locke  divides  all  arguments  into  demonftrative  and 
probable.  In  this  view,  we  muft  fay,  that  it  is  only  probable 
all  men  muft  die,  or  that  the  fun  wiH  rife  to-morrow.  But  to 
conform  our  language  more  to  common  ufe,  we  ought  to  divide 
arguments  into  demonfirations,  proofs,  and  probabilities.  By 
proofs  meaning  fuch  arguments  from  experience  as  leaye  no 
room  for  doubt  or  oppoUtion. 


62  S    E    C    T    I    O    N      VI. 

more  fleady  and  fecure.  This  procefs  of  the 
thought  or  reafoning  may  feem  trivial  and  ob- 
viousj  but  to  thofe  who  confider  it  more  narrowly, 
it  may,  perhaps,  afford  matter  for  curious  fpe- 
culation. 

It  feems  evident,  that,  when  the  mind  looks 
forward  to  difcover  the  event,  which  may  refulc 
from  the  throw  of  fuch  a  dye,  it  confiders  the 
turning  up  of  each  particular  fide  as  alike  proba- 
ble; and  this  is  the  very  nature  of  chance,  to  ren- 
der all  the  particular  events,  comprehended  in  it, 
entirely  equal.  But  finding  a  greater  number  of 
Jides  concur  in  the  one  event  than  in  the  other^ 
the  mind  is  carried  more  frequently  to  the  event, 
and  meets  it  oftener,  in  revolving  the  various  pof- 
fibilities  or  chances,  on  which  the  ultimate  refulc 
depends.  This  concurrence  of  feveral  views  irk 
one  particular  event  begets  immediately,  by  an 
inexplicable  contrivance  of  nature,  the  fentiment 
of  belief,  and  gives  that  event  the  advantage  over 
its  antagonifl,  which  is  fupported  by  a  fmaller 
number  of  views,  and  recurs  lefs  frequently  to  the 
mind.  If  we  allow,  that  belief  is  nothing  but  a 
firmer  and  flronger  conception  of  an  object  than 
what  attends  the  mere  fiftions  of  the  imagination, 
this  operation  may,  perhaps,  in  fome  meafure,  be 
accounted  for.  The  concurrence  of  thefe  feveral 
views  or  glimpfes  imprints  the  idea  more  ftrongly 
on  the  imagination;  gives  it  fuperior  force  and 
vigour;  renders  its  influence  on  the  paffions  and 
affeftions  more  fenfible;  and  in  a  word,  begets 
that  reliance  or  fecurity,  which  conllitutes  the  na- 
ture of  belief  and  opinion. 

The  cafe  is  the  fame  with  the  probability  of 
caufes,  as  with  that  of  chance.  There  are  fome 
c^ufes,  which  are  entirely  uniform  and  conftant 
in  producing  a  particular  eff»"d:,  rnd  no  inftaiice 
has  ever  y^t  been  found  of  any  Lilure  or  irregula- 
rity  in  their  operation.     Fire  has  always  burned, 

and 


Of*  Prob  A  B  I  L  iTY.  6;;^ 

and  water  fuffbcated  every  human  creature:  The 
produiftion  of  motion  by  impulle  and  gravity  is 
an  univerial  law,  which  has  hitherto  admitted  of 
no  exception.  Rut  there  are  other  caufcs,  which 
have  been  found  more  irregular  and  uncertain; 
nor  has  rhubarb  always  proved  a  purge,  or  opium 
a  foporific  to  every  one,  who  has  taken  thefe  me- 
dicines. Jt  is  true,  when  any  caufe  fails  of  pro- 
ducing its  ufual  effeft,  philofophers  afcribe  not  this 
to  any  irregularity  in  nature;  but  fuppofe,  that 
fome  fecret  caufes,  in  the  particular  Itrutture  of 
parts,  have  prevented  the  operation.  Our  reafon- 
ings,  however,  and  conclufions  concerning  the 
event  are  the  fame  as  if  this  principle  had  no  place. 
Being  determined  by  cullom  to  transfer  the  part: 
to  the  future,  in  all  our  inferences;  where  the  pafh 
has  been  entirely  regular  and  uniform,  we  exped: 
the  event  with  the  greateft  affurance,  and  leave 
no  room  for  any  contrary  fuppofition.  But  where 
different  effedls  have  been  found  to  follow  from 
caufes,  which  are  to  appearance  exactly  fimilar,  all 
thefe  various  effefls  muft  occur  to  the  mind  in 
transferring  the  paft  to  the  future,  and  enter  into 
our  confideration,  when  we  determine  the  proba- 
bility of  the  event.  Though  we  give  the  prefe- 
rence to  that  which  has  been  found  moft  ufuaJ, 
and  believe  that  this  effe6l  will  exift,  we  mufl 
not  overlook  the  other  effefts,  but  muft  alFign  to 
each  of  them  a  particular  weight  and  authority,  in 
proportion  as  we  have  found  it  to  be  more  or  lefs 
frequent.  It  is  more  probable,  in  almoft  every 
country  of  Europe,  that  there  will  be  frofl  fome- 
time  in  January,  than  that  the  weather  will  con- 
tinue open  throughout  that  whole  month  ;  though 
this  probability  varies  according  to  the  different 
climates,  and  approaches  to  a  certainty  in  the 
more  northern  kingdoms.  Here  then  it  feems 
evident,  chat,  when  we  transfer  the  paft  to  the  fu- 
ture, in  order  to  determine  the  effetl,  which  will 

refult 


64  S     E    C    T     I     O    N      VI. 

refult  from  any  caufe,  we  transfer  all  the  different 
events,  in  the  fame  proportion  as  they  have  ap- 
peared in  the  paft,  and  conceive  one  to  have  ex- 
ifted  a  hundred  times,  for  inftance,  another  ten 
times,  and  another  once.  As  a  great  number  of 
views  do  here  concur  in  one  event,  they  fortify 
and  confirm  it  to  the  imagination,  beget  that  fen- 
timent  which  we  call  beliefs  and  give  its  object 
the  preference  above  the  contrary  event,  vrhich  is 
not  fupported  by  an  equal  number  of  experiments, 
and  recurs  not  fo  frequently  to  the  thought  in 
transferring  the  paft  to  the  future.  Let  any  one 
try  to  account  for  the  operation  of  the  mind  up- 
on any  of  the  received  fyftems  of  philofophy,  and 
he  will  be  fenfible  of  the  difficulty.  For  my  part, 
I  fhall  think  it  fufficient,  if  the  prefent  hints  ex- 
cite the  curiofity  of  philofophers,  and  make  them 
fenfible  how  defedlive  all  common  theories  are 
in  treating  of  fuch  curious  and  fuch  fublime 
lubje6V$, 


SEC- 


(  65  ) 


SECTION     VII. 

Of  the  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexion. 
PART       I. 


X 


HE  great  advantage  of  the  mathematical 
fciences  above  the  moral  confifts  in  this,  that 
the  ideas  of  the  former,  being  fenfible,  are  al- 
ways clear  and  determinate,  the  fmallell  diiliinc- 
tion  between  them  is  immediately  perceptible, 
and  the  fame  terms  are  ftill  expreffive  of  the 
fame  ideas,  v/ithout  ambiguity  or  variation.  An 
oval  is  never  miftaken  for  a  circle,  nor  an  hy- 
perbola for  an  ellipfis. '  The  ifofceles  and  fcaienum 
arediftinguiflied  by  boundaries  more  exa6t  than  vice 
and  virtue,  right  and  wrong.  If  any  term  be  de- 
fined in  geometry,  the  mind  readily,  of  itfelf, 
fubftitutes,  on  all  occafions,  the  definition  for  the 
term  defined:  Or  even  when  no  definition  is  em- 
ployed, the  objett  itfelf  may  be  prefented  to  the 
fenfes,  and  by  that  m.eans  be  fteadily  and  clear- 
ly apprehended.  But  the  finer  fentiments  of  the 
mind,  the  operations  of  the  underftanding,  the 
various  agitations  of  the  paflions,  though  really 
in  themfelves  diftinft,  eafily  efcape  us,  when  fur- 
veyed  by  refledlion  ;  nor  is  it  in  our  power  to  re- 
cal  the  original  object,  as  often  as  we  have  occa- 
fion  to  contemplate  it.  Ambiguity,  by  this  means, 
is  gradually  introduced  into  our  reafonings:  Simi- 
VoL,  IL'  F  lar 


66  SECTION      Vir. 

lar  obje£ls  are  readily  taken  be  to  the  fame:  And; 
the  conclufion  becomes  at  lad  very  v/ide  of  ther 
premifes. 

One  may  fafely,  however,  affirm,  that  if  we  con- 
fider  thefe  fciences  in  a  proper  light,  their  advan- 
tages and  difadvantages  nearly  compenfate  each 
other,  and  reduce  both  of  them  to  the  ftate  of 
equality.  If  the  mind,  v/ith  greater  facility,  re- 
tains the  ideas  of  geometry  clear  and  determinate,, 
it  muft  carry  on  a  much  longer  and  more  intri- 
cate chain  of  reafoning,  and  compare  ideas  moch' 
wider  of  each  other,  in  order  to  reach  the  abiLru- 
fer  truths  of  that  fcience.  And  if  moral  ideas 
are  apt,  without  extreme  care,  to  fall  into  obfcu- 
rity  and  confufion,  the  inferences  are  alv/ays  much 
fhortef  in  thefe  difquifitions,  and  intermediate  fteps^ 
\Vhich  lead  to  the-  concufion,  much  fewer  than  in 
the  fciences  which  treat  of  quantity  and  number. 
In  reality,  there  is  fcarccly  a  propofition  in  Euclid 
fo  fimple,  as  not  to  confift  of  more  parts,  than  are 
to  be  found  in  any  moral  reafoning  which  runs 
not  into  chimera  and  conceit.  Where  we  trace 
the  principles  of  the  human  mind  though  a  few 
ileps,  we  may  be  very  well  fatisfied  with  our  pro- 
grefs;  confidering  how  foon  nature  throws  a  bar 
to  all  our  enquiries  concerning  caufes,  and  redu- 
ces us  to  an  acknowjedcrment  of  our  i^rnorance.. 
The  chief  obftacie,  therefore,  to  our  improvement 
in  the  moral  or  m.etaphyfical  fciences  is  the  obfcu- 
rity  of  the  ideas,  and  ambiguity  of  the  terms.  The 
principal  difficulty  in  the  mathematics  is  the  length 
of  inferences  and  compafs  of  tliought,  requifite  to 
the  forming  of  any  conclufion.  And,  perhaps,, 
our  progrefs  in  natural  phiioi'ophy  is  chiefly  re- 
tarded by  the  want  of  proper  experiments  and  pha?- 
nomena,  which  are  often  difcovered  by  chance, 
and  cannot  always  be  found,  when  requifite,  even 
by  the  mod  ciiligent  and  prudent  enquiry.  As 
moral  philofopiiy  feems   hitherto  to  have  received' 

kfs 


Of*  the  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexio!-j.     67 

lefs  improvement  than  either  geometry  or  phyfics, 
we  may  conclude,  that,  if  there  be  any  difference 
in  this  refpeft  among  thcfe  fciences,  rhe  difficul- 
ties, which  obftruch  the  progrefs  of  the  former, 
require  fuperior  care  and  capacity  to  be  farmount- 
ed. 

There  are  no  ideas,  which  occur  in  metaphyfics, 
more  obfcure  and  uncertain,  than  thofe  of  fowery 
force,  energy,  or  necejfary  connexion,  of  which  it  is 
every  moment  necelTiiry  for  us  to  treat  in  all  our 
difquifitions.  We  lliall  therefore,  endeavour,  in 
this  fcClion,  to  fix,  if  poilible,  the  precife  mean- 
ing of  thefe  terms,  and  thereby  remove  fome  part 
of  that  obfcurity,  which  is  fo  much  complained 
of  in  this  fpecies  of  philofophy. 

It  fecms  a  proportion,  v/hi,:h  will  not  admit  of 
much  dil'pute,  that  all  our  ideas  are  nothing  but 
copies  of  our  imprelTions,  or,  in  other  words,  that 
it  is  impolTible  for  us  to  think  of  any  thing,  which 
we  have  not  antecedently  feli,  either  by  our  ex- 
ternal or  internal  fenfes.  1  have  endeavoured  *  to 
explain  and  prove  this  proportion,  and  have  ex- 
prelTed  my  hopes,  that,  by  a  proper  application 
of  it,  men  may  reach  a-greater  clearnefs  and  pre- 
cifion  in  philofophical  reafonings,  than  what  they 
have  hitherto  been  able  to  attain.  Complex  ideas 
may,  perhaps,  be  well 'known  by  definition,  which 
is  nothing  but  an  enumeration  of  thole  parts  or 
fimple  ideas,  that  compofe  them.  But  when  v.'e 
have  puHied  up  definicions  to  the  moil  fimple  ideas, 
and  find  ftill  fome  ambiguity  and  obfcurity;  what 
refource  are  v/e  then  polfefTed  of?  By  what  inven- 
tion can  we  throw  light  upon  thefe  ideas,  and  ren- 
der them  altogether  precife  and  determinate  to 
our  intelledlual  view?  Produce  the  imprefHons  or 
original  fentirrents,  from  which  the  ideas  are  co- 
pied.    Thefe  imprefTions  are  all  flrong  and  fen- 

F  2  fible. 

*  Secllon  II, 


6S  S    E    C    T    1    a    N      VIL 

fible.  They  abmit  not  of  ambiguity.  They  are 
not  only  placed  in  a  full  light  themfelves,  bur 
may  throw  light  on  their  correfpondent  ideas, 
which  lie  in  obfcurity.  And  by  this  means,  we 
may,  perhaps,  attain  a  new  microfcope  or  fpecies 
of  optics,  by  which,  in  the  moral  fciences,  the 
moft  minute,  and  mDll:  fimple  ideas  may  be  fo 
enlarged  as  to  fall  readily  under  our  apprehenfion^ 
and  be  equally  known  with  the  groflcft  and  moft 
fenfible  ideas,  that  can  be  the  objedl  of  our  in- 
quiry. 

To  be  fully  acquainted^  therefore,  with  the  idea* 
©f  power  or  neceffary  connexion,  let  us  examine 
its  imprefnonj  and  in  order  to  find  the  imprelTion 
with  greater  certainty,  let  us  fearch  for  it  in  all- 
the  fources,  from  which  it  may  polTibly  be  derived. 

When  we  look  about  us  towards  external  ob- 
jects, and  confider  the  operation  of  caufes,  we  are 
never  able,  in  a  fingle  infbancc,  to  difcover  any 
power  or  n^ceiTary  connexions,  any  quality,  which, 
binds  the  effefl  toy  the  caufe,  and  renders  the  one 
an  infallible  confequence  of  the  other.  We  only 
find,  that  the  one  does  actually,  in  fa6l,  follow 
the  other.  The  implufe  of  one  billiard-ball  is  at- 
tended with  motion  in  the  fecond.  This  is  the 
whole  that  appears  to-  the  outward  fenfes.  The 
mind  feels  no  fentiment  or  inward  imprelTion  from 
this  fuccelTion  of  objecls:  Confequencly,  there  is- 
not,  in  any  fingle  particular  inflance  of  caufe  and 
cfFecft,  any  thing  which  can  fuggeil  the  idea  of 
power  or  neceflary  connexion. 

Prom  the  firft  appearance  of  an  objeft,  whene- 
ver can  conjecfbure  what  effecl  will  relult  from  it. 
But  were  the  power  or  energy  of  any  caufe  difco- 
verable  by  the  mind,  we  could  forefee  the  effedt, 
even  without  experience;  and  might,  at  firfl,  pro- 
nounce with  certainty  concerning  it,  by  the  mere 
4iint  of  thought  and  reafoning. 

In  reality,  there  is  no  part  of  matter^  that  does 

evcT;^- 


I 


Of  the  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexion.     69 

ever,  by  its  fenfible  qualities,  difcover  any  power 
or  energy,  or  give  us  ground  to  imagine,  that  it 
■could  produce  any  thing,  or  be  followed  by  any 
other  objecl,  which  we  could  denominate  its  ef- 
fcft.  Solidity,  extenfion,  motion;  thefe  qualities 
are  all  complete  in  themfelves,  and  never  point 
out  any  other  event  which  may  refult  from  them. 
The  fcenes  of  the  univerfe  are  continually  fliifting, 
and  one  object  follows  another  in  an  uninterrupted 
luccefTionj  but  the  power  or  force,  which  aftuates 
the  whole  machine,  is  entirely  concealed  from  us, 
and  never  difcovers  itfelf  in  any  of  the  fenfible 
qualities  of  body.  We  know,  that,  in  faft,  heat 
is  a  conftant  attendant  of  flame  i  but  what  is  the 
connection  between  them,  we  have  no  room  fo 
much  as  to  conje6lure  or  imagine.  It  is  impof- 
fible,  therefore,  that  the  idea  of  power  can  be  de- 
rived from  the  contemplation  of  bodies,  in  fingle 
inftances  of  their  operation;  becaufe  no  bodies 
€ver  difcover  any  power,  which  can  be  the  origi- 
nal of  this  idea*. 

Since,  therefore,  external  objedls  as  they  appear 
to  the  fenfes,  give  us.no  idea  of  power  or  necefTa- 
ry  connexion,  by  their  operation  in  particular  in- 
ftances, let  us  fee,  whether  this  idea  be  deriv- 
ed from  reflcftion  on  the  o'^cracions  of  our  own 
minds,  and  be  copied  from  any  internal  impref- 
fion.  It  may  be  faid,  that  we  are  every  moment 
confcious  of  internal  power;  while  we  feel,  that, 
by  the  fimple  command  of  our  will,  we  can  move 
the  organs  of  our  body,  or  direct  the  faculties  of 
our  mind.      An  aCl  of  volition  produces  motion 

in 

*  Mr.  Locke,  in  his  chapter  of  power,  fays,  that,  finding  from 
experience,  that  there  are  feveral  new  produdlions  in  matter, 
and  concluding  that  there  rnuft  fomewhere  be  a  power  capable 
of  producing  them,  we  arrive  at  laft  by  this  reafoning  at  the 
idea  of  power.  But  no  reafoning  can  ever  give  us  a  new, 
original,  fimple  idea;  as  this  philofopher  himfelf  confeiTes, 
This,  therefore,  can  never  be  the  origin  of  that  idea. 


70  SECTION      VII. 

in  our  limbs,  or  raifes  a  new  idea  in  our  imagi- 
nation. This  influence  of  tlie  will  we  know  by 
confcioufners.  Hence  we  acquire  the  idea  of  pow- 
er or  energy;  and  arc  certain,  that  we  ourfelves 
and  all  other  intelligent  beings  are  poflefled  of 
power.  This  idea,  then,  is  an  idea  of  reflefcion, 
lince  it  arifes  from  refieding  on  the  operations  of 
our  own  mind,  and  on  the  command  which  is  ex- 
ercifed  by  will,  both  over  the  organs  of  the  body 
and  faculties  of  the  foul. 

We  flialj  proceed  to  examine  this  pretenfion;  and 
firll  with  regard  to  the  influence  of  volition  over 
the  organs  of  the  body.  This  influence,  we  may 
obferve,  is  a  faft,  which,  like  all  other  natural 
events,  can  be  known  only  by  experience,  and 
can  never  be  forefcen  from  any  apparent  energy 
or  power  in  the  caufe,  which  connects  it  with  the 
effedlj  and  renders  the  one  an  infallible  confequence 
of  the  other.  The  motion  of  our  body  follov/s  up- 
on the  command  of  our  v/ill.  Of  this  vv'e  are  eve- 
ry moment  confcious.  But  the  means,  by  which 
this  is  effefted  ;  the  energy,  by  which  the  will  per- 
forms fo  extraordinary  an  operation;  of  this  we 
are  fo  far  from  being  immediately  confcious,  that 
it  muft  for  ever  efcape  our  mofc  diligent  enquiry. 

Vox  firft;  is  there  any  principle  in  all  nature 
more  myfterious  than  the  union  of  foul  with  body; 
by  which  a  fuppofed  fpiritual  fubftance  acquires 
fuch  an  influence  over  a  material  one,  that  the 
mod  refined  thought  is  able  to  a6tuate  the  grofleft 
matter  ?  Were  we  empowered,  by  a  fecrec  wifh, 
to  remove  mountains,  or  control  the  planets  in 
their  orbit;  this  extenfive  authority  would  not 
be  more  extraordinary,  nor  more  beyond  our  com- 
prehenfion.  But  if  by  confcioufnefs  wc  perceived 
any  power  or  energy  in  the  will,  we  muil  know 
this  power;  we  mufl  know  its  connexion  with  the 
efi-e6t ;  we  rnull  know  the  fecret  union  of  foul  and 
body,  and  the    nature    of  both   thefe   fubftances; 

by 


Of  the  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexion,     71 

by  whrch  the  one  is  able  to  operate,  in  fo  many 
inflances,   upon  the  other. 

Secondly^  We  are  not  abie  to  move  all  the  or- 
gans of  the  body  with  a  like  authority;  though 
v.'e  cannot  affign  any  reafon  befides  experience, 
for  fo  remarkable  a  difference  between  one  and 
the  other.  Why  has  the  will  an  influence  over 
the  tonf]j'je  and  finders,  not  over  the  heart  or 
iiver  ?  This  qiieftion  would  never  cmbarrafs  lis, 
were  we  confcious  -of  a  power  in  the  former  cafe, 
not  in  the  latter.  We  fhould  then  perceive,  inde- 
pendent of  experience,  why  the  authority  of  will 
over  the  organs  of  the  body  is  circumfcribed. 
within  fuch  particular  limits.  Being  in  than  cafe 
fully  acquainted  with  the  power  or  force,  by 
v/hich  it  operates,  v.'e  fliould  alfo  know,  why  its 
influence  reaches  precifely  to  fuch  boundaries,  and 
no   farther. 

A  man,  fuddenly  ftruck  with  a  palfy  in  the  leg 
or  arm,  or  who  had  newly  loft  thofe  members,  fre- 
quently -endeavours,  at  firft,  to  move  them,  and 
employ  them  in  their  ufual  oiHces.  Here  he  is  as 
much  cor-ifcious  of  power  to  command  fuch  limbs, 
as  a  man  in  perfeft  health  is  confcious  of  power  to 
^.vftuate  any  member  which  remains  in  its  natural 
Itate  and  condition.  But  confcioufnefs  never  de- 
ceives. Confequently,  neither  in  the  one  cafe 
nor  in  the  other,  are  we  ever  confcious  of  any 
power.  We  learn  the  influence  of  our  will  from 
experience  alone.  And  experience  only  teaches 
us,  how  one  event  confequently  follows  another ; 
v/ithout  inflrutling  us  in  the  fecret  connexion, 
which  binds  them  together,  and  renders  them  in- 
feparable. 

1'hirdly^  We  learn  from  anatomy,  that  the  imme- 
diate objefb  of  power  in  voluntary  motion,  is  not  the 
member  itfelf  which  is  moved,  but  certain  mufcles, 
and  nerves,  and  animal  fpirits,  and,  perhaps,  fome- 
t-hing  ftill  more  minute  and  more  unknown,  through 

v/hich 


72  SECTION      VII. 

which  the  motion  is  fucceffively  propagated,  ere 
it  reach  ere  it  reach  the  member  itfelf  whofe 
motion  is  the  immediate  obje6l  of  volition.  Can 
there  be  a  more  certain  proof,  that  the  power, 
by  which  this  whole  operation  is  performed,  fo 
far  from  being  direclly  and  fully  known  by  an 
inward  fentiment  or  confcioufnefs,  is,  to  the  laft 
degree,  my[lerioas  and  unintelligible  ?  Here  the 
mind  wills  a  certain  event:  Immediately  another 
event,  tinknown  to  ourfelves,  and  totally  diffe- 
rent from  the  one  intended,  is  produced:  This 
event  produces  another,  equally  unknown:  Till 
at  laft,  through  a  long  fucccfilon,  the  defired 
event  is  produced.  But  if  the  original  power 
were  felt,  it  muft'  be  known :  Were  it  known, 
its  efieft  muft:  aifo  be  known  j  fincc  all  power 
is  relative  to  its  efFedl.  And  vice  verfa,  if  the 
effeft  be  not  known,  the  power  cannot  be  known 
nor  felt.  How  indeed  can  we  be  confcious  of 
a  power  to  remove  our  limbs,  when  we  have  no 
fuch  power;  but  only  that  to  move  certain  ani- 
mal Ipirits,  which,  though  they  produce  at  laft 
the  motion  of  our  limbs,  yet  operate  in  fuch  a 
manner  as  is   wholly  beyond  our  comprehenfion  ? 

We  may,  therefore,  conclude  from  the  whole, 
I  hope,  without  any  temerity,  though  with  aflu- 
rancej  that  our  idea  of  power  is  not  copied  from 
any  fentiment  or  confcioufnefs  of  power  within 
ourfelves,  when  we  give  rife  to  animal  motion, 
or  apply  our  limbs  to  their  proper  ufe  and  of- 
fice. That  their  motion  follows  the  command 
of  the  v/ill  is  a  matter  of  common  experience, 
like  other  natural  events :  But  the  power  or  energy 
by  which  this  is  effefled,  like  that  in  other  natural 
events,  is  unknown  and  inconceivable  *. 

Shall  we  then  aflert,  that  we  are  confcious  of  a 
power  or  energy  in  our  own  minds,  when,  by  an 
ai^or  command  of  our  will,  we  raife  up  a  new  idea, 

fix 
*  See  NOTE  [CJ. 


Of  the  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexion.     73 

fix  the  mind  to  the  contemplation  of  it,  turn  it  on 
all  fidei-,  and  at  hdl  diiiiiifb  it  for  fome  other 
idea,  when  we  think  that  we  have  furveyed  it 
with  fufficient  accuracy?  I  believe  the  fame  ar- 
guments vsill  prove,  that  even  this  command  of 
the  will  gives  us   no  real   idea   of  force  or  energy. 

Firjiy  It  muft  be  allowed,  that,  when  we  know 
a  power,  we  i:now  that  very  circumRance  in  ihe 
caufe,  by  which  it  is  enabled  to  produce  the  ef- 
fcifl:  For  thefe  are  fuppofed  to  b^  fynonimous. 
We  muft,  therefore,  know  both  the  caufe  and 
etfc<5t,  and  the  relation  between  them.  But  do 
-we  pretend  to  be  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the 
human  foul  and  the  nature  of  an  idea,  or  the  apti- 
tude of  the  one  to  produce  the  other?  This  is  a  real 
creation;  a  produftion  of  fomething  out  of  nothing: 
Which  implies  a  power  fo  great,  that  it  may  feem, 
at  firll  fight,  beyond  the  reach  of  any  being,  lefs  than 
infinite.  At  leaft  it  mull  be  owned,  that  fuch 
a  power  is  not  felt,  nor  known,  nor  even  conceiv- 
able by  the  mjnd.  We  only  feel  the  event,  name- 
ly, the  exillence  of  an  idea,  confequent  to  a  com- 
mand of  the  will:  But  the  manner,  in  which  this 
operation  is  performed ;  the  power,  by  which  it  is 
produced;  is  entirely  beyond  our  comprehenfion. 

Secondly^  The  command  of  the  mind  over  it- 
felf  is  limited,  as  well  as  its  command  over  the 
body;  and  thefe  limits  are  not  known  by  reafon, 
or  any  acquaintance  with  the  nature  of  caufe  and 
efFecc;  but  only  by  experience  and  obfervation, 
as  in  all  other  natural  events  and  in  the  operation 
of  external  objecls.  Our' authority  over  our  fen- 
timents  and  pafiions  is  much  weaker  than  that 
over  our  ideas;  and  even  the  latter  authority  is 
circumfcribed  within  very  narrow  boundaries.  Will 
any  one  pretend  to  afTign  the  ultimate  reafon  of 
thefe  boundaries,  or  fliow  why  the  power  is  de- 
ficient in  one  cafe,  not  in  another  ? 

Thirdly,    This    felf-command   is    very   dijfiferent 
at  different    times.      A    man    in  health  polTeiTes 

more 


74  SECTION       VII. 

more  of  it,  than  one  languiHiing  with  ficknefs, 
"We  are  more  mafter  of  our  thoughts  in  the 
morning  than  in  the  evening:  Failing,  than  af- 
ter a  full  meal.  Can  we  give  any  reafon  for 
thefe  variations,  except  experience  ?  V/here  then 
is  the  pov/er,  of  which  we  pretend  to  be  confci- 
oiis  ?  Is  there  not  here,  either  in  a  fpiritiial  or 
material  fubftance,  or  both,  feme  fecrct  mecha- 
nifim  or  ftriifture  of  parts,  upon  which  the  ef- 
fect depends,  -and  which,  being  entirely  unknov/n 
to  us,  renders  the  power  or  energy  of  the  will 
equally  unknov»'n   and  incomprehenfjble  ? 

•  Volition  is  furely  an  aft  of  the  mind,  with  which 
we  are  fufficienr'y  acquainted.  Refieft  upon  it. 
Confider  it  on  all  fides.  Do  you  find  vny  thing  in 
it  like  this  creative  power,  by  which  it  raifes  from 
nothing  a  new  idea,  and  with  2  kind  of  Fiat, 
imitates  the  omnipotence  of  its  Maker,  if  I  may 
be  allowed  fo  to  fpeak,  who  called  forth  into 
exiftence  all  the  various  fcenes  of  nature  ?  So  far 
from  being  conicious  of  this  energy  in  the  will, 
it  requires  as  certain  experience,  as  that  of  which 
we  are  poffefTed,  to  convince  us,  that  fuch  extra- 
ordinary efFeds  do  ever  refult  from  a  firnple  a6l 
of  volition. 

The  generality  of  manking  never  find  any  dif- 
ficulty in  accounting  for  the  more  common  and 
familiar  operations  of  nature;  fuch  as  the  defcent 
of  heavy  bodies,  the  grov/th  of  plants,  the  gene- 
ration of  animals,  or  the  nouriihment  of  bodies 
by  food :  But  fuppofe,  that,  in  all  thefe  cafes, 
they  perceive  the  very  force  or  energy  oi  the 
caufe,  by  which  it  is  conne6led  with  its  c{- 
i'ccty  and  is  for  ever  infallible  in  its  operation. 
They  acquire,  by  long  habit,  a  turn  of  mind, 
that,  upon  the  appearance  of  the  caufe,  they 
immediately  expedt  with  affurance  its  ufual  at- 
tendant, and  hardly  conceive  it  poflible,  that 
any  other  event  could  refult  from  it.  It  is  on- 
ly   on    the    difcovery    of    extraordinary     phceno- 

mcna. 


of  th^  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexion.      7^ 

rnena,  fuch-as  earthquakes,  pcftilence,  and  prodi- 
gies of  any  kind,  that  they  find  themfelves  at  a 
iofs  to  aliign  a  proper  caufe,  and  to  explain  the 
manner,  in  which  the  effc(5l  is  produced  by  it. 
It  is  iilual  for  men,  in  fuch  difficulties,  to  have 
recourle  to  Ibme  inviGblc  intelligent  principle*, 
as  the  immediate  caufe  of  that  event,  which  fur- 
prifes  them,  and  which  they  think,  cannot  be  ac- 
counted for  from  the  common  powers  of  nature. 
But  philofophcrs,  who  carry  their  fcrutiny  a  little 
farther,  iiVimediaeely  perceive,  that,  even  in  the 
mod  familiar  events,  the  energy  of  the  caufe  is 
as  unintelligible  as  in  the  mofb  unufual,  and  that 
we  only  learn  by  experience  the  frequent  Con- 
jun(5i:ion  of  objects,  without  being  ever  able  to 
comprehend  any  thing  like  Connexion  between 
them.  Here  then,  many  philoibphers  think  them- 
felves obliged  by  reafon  to  have  recourfe,  on  all 
occafions,  to  the  fame  principle,  which  the  vul- 
gar never  appeal  to  but  in  cafes,  that  appear 
miraculous  and  fupernatural.  They  acknowledge 
mind  and  intelligence  to  be,  not  only  the  ulti- 
inate  and  orio-inal  caufe  of  all  things,  but  the 
immediate  and  fcle  caufe  of  every  event,  which 
appears  in  nature.  They  pretend,  that  thofe  ob- 
jeds,  which  are  commonly  denominated  caiijes, 
are  in  reality  nothing  but  occafions  \  and  that  the 
true  and  dire£l  principle  of  every  effect  is  not  any 
power  or  force  in  nature,  but  a  volition  of  the 
Supreme  Being,  who  v/ills,  that  fuch  particular 
objecfts  fliould,  for  ever,  be  conjoined  with  each 
other.  Inftead  of  faying,  that  one  billiard-ball 
moves  another,  by  a  force,  which  it  has  derived 
from  the  author  of  nature ;  it  is  the  Deity  him- 
felf,  they  fay,  who,  by  a  particular  volition,  moves 
the  fecond  ball,  being  determined  to  this  ope- 
ration by  the  impulfe  of  the  firft  ball  j  in  confe- 
quence  of  thofe  general  laws,  which  he  has  laid 

down 

*  0Si^  CCTTO  ^T^<i,n;^ 


76  SECTION       VII. 

down  to  himfelf  in  the  government  of  the  univeiTe. 
But  philoJbphers  advancing  flili  in  their  enquiries, 
difcover,    that,   as  we   are  toZ3.\\y   ignorant  of  the 
power,  on  which  depends  the  mutual  operation  of 
bodies,    we    are    no  lefs    ignorant  of  that   power, 
on  which    depends  the    operationof  mind  on    bo- 
dy, or  of  body  on   mind ;    nor  are  we  able,    ei- 
ther from   our   fenfes    or  confcioufnefs,    to    affign 
the  ultimate  principle  in  one  cafe,  more  than   in 
the  other.     The  fame  ignorance,  therefore,  redu- 
ces them  to  the  fame  conclufion.     They  aflcrt,  that 
the  Deity  is  the  immediate   caufe  of  the  union  be- 
tween foul  and  bodyj  and   that  they  are   not  the 
organs  of  fenfc,    which,   being   agitated   by  exter- 
nal   objedfts,  produce  fenfations  in  the  mind;   but 
that  it   is  a  particular  volition  of  our  omnipotent 
Maker,  which  excites  fuch  a  feniation,    in  confe- 
quence   of  fuch  a  motion  in  the  organ.      In  like 
manner,  it  is  not  any  energy  in  the  will,   in    the 
will,    that  produces    local    motion    in   our  mem- 
bers :    It    is  God   himfelf,    who   is  pleafed   to  fe- 
cond  our  will,  in    itfelf   impotent,   and    to   com- 
mand  that  motion,    which   we   erroneoufly   attri- 
bute to  our  own   power    and  efRcacy.      Nor   do 
philofophcrs  Hop  at  this  conclufion.     They  fome- 
tim.es  extend  the  fame  inference  to  the  mind   it- 
felf, in  its  internal  operations.     Our  mental  vifk- 
on  or  conception  of  ideas  is  nothing  but  a  revela- 
tion made  to  us  by  our  Maker.     When  we  volun- 
tarily turn  our  thoughts  to  any  objeft,  and  raife 
up    its  image    in  the   fancy;  it   is    not    the    will 
which  creates  that  idea:  It  is  the  univerfal  Crea- 
tor,   who    difcovers   it   to  the  mind,  and  renders 
it   prefent  to  us. 

I'hus,  according  to  thefe  philofophcrs,  every 
thing  is  full  of  God.  Not  content  with  the  prin- 
ciple, that  nothing  exifts  but  by  his  will,  that 
nothing   j)oire(res   any   power  but    by  his  concef- 

fion  : 


of  the  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexion.      77 

fion:  They  rob  nature,  and  all  created  beings, 
of  every  power,  in  order  to  render  their  depen- 
dence on  the  Deity  Itill  more  fcnfible  and  imme- 
diate. They  confider  not,  that,  by  this  theory, 
they  diminifh,  inftead  of  magnifying,  the  gran- 
deur of  thofe  attributes,  which  they  affed  fo  much 
to  celebrate.  It  argues  furely  more  power  in  the 
Deity  to  delegate  a  certain  degree  of  power  to 
inferior  creatures,  than  to  produce  every  thing  by 
his  own  immediate  volition.  It  argues  more  wif- 
dom  to  contrive  at  firll  the  fabric  of  the  world 
with  fuch  perfedl  forefight,  that,  of  itfelf,  and  by 
its  proper  operation,  it  may  ferve  all  the  purpo- 
fes  of  providence,  than  if  the  great  Creator  were 
obliged  every  moment  to  adjufl  its  parts,  and  ani- 
mate by  his  breath  all  the  wheels  of  that  ftupen- 
dous  machine. 

But  if  we  would  have  a  more  philofophical 
confutation  of  this  theory,  perhaps  the  two  fol- 
lowing refiediions    may  fuffice. 

Firj}^  It  feems  to  me,  that  this  theory  of  the 
univerfal  energy  and  operation  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  is  too  bold  ever  to  carry  conviction  with 
it  to  a  man,  fufficiently  apprized  of  the  weaknefs 
of  human  reafon,  and  the  narrow  limits,  to  which 
it  is  confined  in  all  its  operations.  Though  the 
chain  of  arguments,  which  conduct  to  it,  were 
ever  fo  logical,  there  muft  arife  a  flrong  fufpi- 
cion,  if  not  an  abfolute  aflurance,  that  it  has  car- 
ried us  quite  beyond  the  reach  of  our  faculties, 
when  it  leads  to  conclufions  fo  extraordinary, 
and  fo  remote  from  common  life  and  experience. 
We  are  got  into  fairy  land,  long  ere  we  have 
reached  the  laft  fteps  of  our  theory;  and  there 
we  have  no  reafon  to  trud  our  common  methods 
of  argument,  or  to  think  that  our  ufual  analo- 
gies and  probabilities  have  any  authority.  Our 
line  is  too  Ihort  to  fathom  fuch  immenfe  abyfles. 
And  however  we  may  flatter  ourfelves,  that  we 
are  guided,  in  every  Hep  which  we  take,  by  a  kind 

of 


78  SECTION     Vll. 

of  verifimilitude  and  experience;  we  way  be  af- 
fured,  that  this  fancied  experience  has  no  authority, 
when  we  thus  apply  it  to  fubjefts,  that  lie  en- 
tirely out  of  the  fphere  of  experience.  But  on 
this  we  Ihall  have  occafion  to  touch  afterwards*. 
Secondly,  I  cannot  perceive  any  force  in  the  ar- 
guments, on  which  this  theory  is  founded.  Wo. 
are  ignorant,  it  is  true,  of  the  manner  in  which 
bodies  operate  on  each  other :  Their  force  or  ener- 
gy is  entirely  incomprehenfible:  But  are  we  not 
equally  ignorant  of  the  manner  or  force  by  which 
a  mind,  even  the  fupreme  mind,  operaces  either 
on  itfelf  or  on  body  ?  Whence,  I  befeech  you,  do 
we  acquire  any  idea  of  it  ?  We  have  no  fentiment 
or  confcioufnefs  of  this  power  in  ourfelves.  We 
have  no  idea  of  the  Supreme  Being  but  what  we 
learn  from  refiedlion  on  our  own  faculties.  Were 
our  ignorance,  therefore,  a  good  reafon  for  rejed- 
ing  any  thing,  we  fhould  be  led  into  that  princi- 
ple of  denying  all  energy  in  the  Supreme  Being 
as  much  as  in  the  grof^ell  matter.  We  furely 
comprehend  as  little  the  operations  of  one  as  of 
the  other.  Is  it  more  difficult  to  conceive,  that 
motion  may  arife  from  impulfe,  than  that  it  mav 
arife  from  volition  ?  All  we  know  is  our  profound 
ignorance  in  both  cafes -j-. 

P     A     R    T       II. 

But  to  haflen  to  a  conclufion  of  this  argu- 
ment, which  is  already  drawn  out  to  too  great 
a  length :  W^e  have  fought  in  vain  for  an  idea 
of  power  or  neceffiry  connexion,  in  all  the  four- 
ces  from  which  we  could  fuppofe  it  to  be  de- 
rived. It  appears,  that,  in  fingle  inftances  of 
the  operation  of  bodies,  we  never  can,  by  our 
iitmoft  fcrutiny,  difcover  any  thing  but  one  ^v^nt 
following  anotheri  without  being  able  to  compre- 
hend 
•  Seaion  xir. 

t  See  NOTE  [D]. 


Of  the  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexion.     79 

hend  any  force  or  power,  by  which  the  caufe  ope- 
rates, or  any  connexion  betv/een  it  and  its  fup- 
pofed  effe<fl:.  The  fame  difficulty  occurs  in  con- 
templaiting  the  operations  of  mind  on  body; 
where  we  obferve  the  motion  of  the  latter  to  fol- 
low upon  the  volition  of  the  former  j  bnt  are  not 
able  to  obferve  or  conceive  the  tye,  which  binds 
together  the  motion  and  volition,  or  the  energy 
by  which  the  mind  produces  this  eflx^cl.  The 
authority  of  the  will  over  its  own  faculties  and 
ideas  is  rot  a  v/hit  more  comprchcnfible :  So  that, 
upon  the  whole,  there  appears  not,  throughout: 
all  nature,  any  one  inftance  of  connexion,  which 
is  conceivable  by  us.  All  events  feem  entirely 
loofe  and  feparate.  One  event  follows  another; 
but  v;e  never  can  obferve  any  tye  between  them. 
Th^y  feem  conjoined^  but  never  connc5fcd.  And  as 
v/e  can  have  no  idea  of  any  tlhing,  which  never 
appeared  to  our  outward  fenfe  or  inward  fenti- 
ment,  the  necelTary  conclufion  feems  to  be,  that 
we  have  no  idea  of  connexion  or  power  at  all, 
and  that  thefe  words  are  abfolutely  without  any 
meaning,  when  employed  either  in  philofophicai 
leafonings,  or  common  life. 

But  there  ftill  remains  one  method  of  avoid- 
ing this  conclufion,  and  one  fource  which  we  have 
not  yet  examined.  When  any  natural  object  or 
event  is  prefented,  it  is  impoffible  for  us,  by  any 
fagacity  or  penetration,  to  difcover,  or  even  con- 
jedlurc,  without  experience,  what  event  will  refalt 
from  it,  or  to  carry  our  forefight  beyond  that 
objed,  wliich  is  immediately  prefent  to  the  me- 
mory and  fenfes.  Even  after  one  inftance  or  ex- 
periment, where  we  have  obferved  a  particular 
event  to  follow  upon  another,  we  are  not  entit- 
led to  form  a  general  rule,  or  foretel  what  will 
happen  in  like  cafes;  it  being  juftly  efteemed  an 
unpardonable  temerity  to  judge  of  the  whole 
courfe  of  nature  from  one  fingle  experiment,  how- 
ever 


So  SECTION      VII. 

ever  accurate  or  certain.  But  when  one  parti- 
cular fpecies  of  event  has  alv/ays,  in  all  inftan- 
ces,  been  conjoined  with  another,  we  make  no 
longer  any  fcruple  of  foretelling  one  upon  the 
appearance  of  the  other,  and  of  employing  that 
reafonin^,  which  can  alone  afTure  us  of  any  mat- 
ter of  fact  or  exiftence.  We  then  call  the  one 
objedl,  Cauje\  the  other,  Effe5i.  We  fuppofe,  that 
there  is  fome  connexion  between  them;  fome 
power  in  the  one,  by  which  it  infallibly  produces 
the  other,  and  operates  with  the  greateft  certain- 
ty and  ftrongeft  neceffity. 

It  appears,  then,  that  this  idea  of  a  neceffary  con- 
nexion among  events  arifes  from  a  number  of 
fimilar  infbances,  which  occur,  of  the  conftant  con- 
junction of  thefe  events ;  nor  can  that  idea  ever 
be  fuggefted  by  any  one  of  thefe  inflances,  fur- 
veyed  in  all  polTible  lights  and  pofitions.  But 
there  is  nothing  in  a  number  of  inflances,  dif- 
ferent from  any  fingle  inftance,  which  is  fuppofed 
to  be  exadtly  fimilar;  except  only,  that  after  a 
repetition  of  fimilar  inftances,  the  mind  is  car- 
ried by  habit,  upon  the  appearance  of  one  event, 
to  expeft  its  ufual  attendant,  and  to  believe,  that 
it  will  exift.  This  connexion,  therefore,  which 
we  feel  in  the  mind,  this  cuftomary  tranfition  of 
the  im.agination  from  one  objedt  to  its  ufual  at- 
tendant, is  the  fentiment  or  impreffion,  froiTi 
which  we  form  the  idea  of  power  or  neceffary 
connexion.  Nothing  farther  is  in  the  cafe.  Con- 
template the  fubjedl  on  all  fides;  you  will  never 
find  any  other  origin  of  that  idea.  This  is  the 
fole  difference  between  one  inftance  from  which 
we  can  never  receive  the  idea  of  connexion,  and 
a  number  of  fimilar  inflances,  by  which  it  is 
fuggefted.  The  firfl  time  a  man  law  the  com- 
munication of  motion  by  impulfe,  as  by  the  fhock 
of  two  billiard-balls,  he  could  not  pronounce  that 
the  one  event  was  conne^ed:  but  only  that  it  was 

conjoined 


of  the  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexion.     8i 

conjoined  with  the  other.       After  he  has  obferved 
feveral  inftances  of  this  nature,  he   then  pronoun- 
ces them    to   be   connecied.      What   alteration   has 
happened   to    give    rife  to    this  new  idea  of  con- 
nexion'^  Nothing  but  that  he  now  feeU  thefe  events 
to  be  conne^ed  in  his  imagination,  and  can  readi- 
ly   foretel  the  fxiftence  of    one  from  the  appear- 
ance of  the  other.     When  we  fay,  therefore,  that 
one  objett  is   connected  with    another,    we  mean 
only,  that  tJiey  have  acquired  a  connexion  in  our 
•thought,  and  give  rife  to  this  inference,   by  which 
they    become    proofs    of  each  other's    exifcence : 
A  conclufion,    which   is   fomewhat  extraordinary^ 
but  which  feems    founded   on   fufficient  evidence. 
Nor  will  its  evidence  be  weakened  by  any  gene- 
ral diffidence  of  the  underftanding,    or    fceptical 
fufpicion  concerning   every   conclufion,    which   is 
new   and  extraordinary.     No  conclufions    can   be 
more  agreeable  to  fcepticifm  than  fuch  as  make 
difcoveries  concerning   the  weaknefs    and   narrow 
limits  o{  human   reaion   and  capacity. 

And  what  ftrong-er  indance  can  be  produced  of 
the  furprifing  ignorance  and  weaknefs  of  the  un- 
derftanding, than  theprefent?  For  fu rely,  if  there 
be  any  relation  among  objects,  which  it  imports 
us  to  know  perfectly,  it  is  caufe  and  effe6l. 
On  this  are  founded  all  cur  reafonings  concern- 
ing matter  of  fact  or  exiftence.  By  means  of  it 
alone  we  attain  any  afTurance  concerning  obje6ts, 
which  are  removed  from  the  prefent  teftimony  of 
our  memory  and  fenfes.  The  only  immediate 
utility  of  all  fciences,  is  to  teach  us,  how  to 
control  and  regulate  future  events  by  their  cau- 
fes.  Our  thoughts  and  enquiries  are,  therefore, 
every  moment,  employed  about  this  relation :  Yet 
fo  imperfeft  are  the  ideas  which  we  form  con- 
cerning it,  that  it  is  impofUble  to  give  any  juft 
definition  of  caufe,  except  what  is  drawn  from 
fomething  extraneous  and  foreign  to  it.     Similar 

Vol.  II.  G  objeds 


82  SECTION      VII. 

obje£ts  are  always  conjoined  with  fimilar.  Of  this 
"Vve  have  experience.  Suitably  to  this  experience, 
therefore,  we  may  define  a  caiue  to  be  an  obje^y  fol- 
lowed by  an  other  J  and  zvhere  all  the  objecfSyJimilar  to  the 
frjly  are  foUozved  by  oujeSis  fimilar  to  the  Jecond. 
Or  in  othiir  words,  where^  if  the  firfi  objetf  had 
not  been,  the  fecond  never  had  exijied.  The  appear- 
ance of  a  caule  alvv^ays  conveys  the  mind,  by  a  cuf- 
tomary  tranfition,  to  the  idea  of  the  effed:.  Of 
this  alfo  we  have  experience.  We  may,  there- 
fore, fuitably  to  this  experience,  form  another 
definition  of  caufe  j  and  call  it,  an  object  followed 
by  another,  and  whoje  appearance  ahvays  conveys 
the  thought  to  that  other.  But  though  both  thefe 
definitions  be  drav/n  from  circumftances  foreign 
to  the  caufe,  v/e  cannot  remedy  this  inconveni- 
ence, or  attain  any  m.ore  perfefl  definition,  which 
may  point  out  that  circumllance  in  the  caufe, 
which  gives  it  a  connexion  with  its  efi^eft.  We 
have  no  idea  of  this  connexion;  nor  even  any 
diilinft  notion  what  it  is  we  defire  to  know,  when 
we  endeavour  at  a  conception  of  it.  We  fay, 
for  infhance,  that  the  vibration  of  this  firing  is 
the  caufe  of  this  particular  found.  But  what  do 
we  mean  by  that  afiirmation  ?  We  either  mean, 
that  this  vibration  is  followed  by  this  found,  and 
that  all  fimilar  vibrations  have  been  followed  by  fi- 
milar founds  .■•  Or,  that  this  vibration  is  followed  by 
this  found,  and  that  upon  the  appearance  of  one,  the 
mind  anticipates  the  fenfes,  and  forms  immediately 
an  idea  of  the  other.  We  may  confider  the  re- 
lation of  caufe  and  efFe(5b  in  either  of  thefe  twd 
lights;  but  beyond  thefe,  we  have  no  idea  of  it*. 
To  recapitulate,  therefore,  the  reafonings  of 
this  fedlion :  Every  idea  is  copied  from  fome  pre- 
ceding imprelTion  or  fentiment;  and  where  we 
cannot  find  any  impreffion,  we  may  be  certain 
that  there  is  no   idea.      In  all  fingle  inftances  of 

the 
•  See  NOTE  [E]. 


Of  the  Idea  of  Necessary  Connexion.      83 

the  operation  of  bodies  or  minds,  there  is  no- 
thing that  produces  any  imprefFion,  nor  confe- 
quently  can  fugged  any  idea,  of  power  or  ne- 
cefTary  connexion.  But  when  many  uniform  in- 
ftances  appear,  and  the  fame  objeft  is  always 
followed  by  the  fame  events  we  then  begin  to 
entertain  the  notion  of  caufe  and  connexion. 
We  then  feel  a  new  fentiment  or  impreflion,  to 
wit,  a  cuftomary  connexion  in  the  thought  or 
imagination  between  one  objedt  and  its  ufual  at- 
tendant; and  this  fentiment  is  the  original  of  that 
idea  which  we  feek  for.  For  as  this  idea  arifes 
from  a  number  of  fimiiar  inftances,  and  not  from 
any  fingle  inftance;  it  muft  arile  from  that  cir- 
cumftance,  in  which  the  number  of  inftances  dif- 
fer from  every  individual  inftance.  But  this  cuf- 
tomary connexion  or  tranfition  of  the  imagi- 
nation is  the  only  circumftance,  in  which  they 
differ.  In  every  other  particular  they  arc  alike. 
The  firft  inftance  which  we  faw  of  motion,  com- 
municated by  the  fhock  of  two  billiard-balls  (to 
return  to  this  obvious  illuftration)  is  exafbly  fi- 
miiar to  any  inftance  .that  may,  at  prefent,  oc- 
cur to  us ;  except  only,  that  we  could  not,  at 
firft,  infer  one  event  from  the  other;  which  we  are 
enabled  to  do  at  prefent,  after  fo  long  a  courfe 
of  uniform  experience.  I  know  not,  whether  the 
reader  will  readily  apprehend  this  reafoning.  I 
am  afraid,  that,  ftiould  1  multiply  words  about 
it,  or  throw  it  into  a  greater  variety  of  lights, 
it  would  only  become  more  obfcure  and  intri- 
cate. In  all  abftraft  reafonings,  there  is  one  point 
of  view,  which,  if  we  can  happily  hit,  we  ftiall 
go  farther  towards  illuftrating  the  fubjeft,  than 
by  all  the  eloquence  and  copious  expreffion  in 
the  world.  This  point  of  view  we  ftiould  endea- 
vour to  reach,  and  referve  the  flowers  of  rheto- 
ric for  fubjefts  which  are  more  adapted  to  them. 

G  2 


[    85    ] 


SECTION       VIIL 

Of  Liberty    and  Necessity. 
PART      I. 


It  might  reafonably  be  expe^ed,  in  queftions, 
which  have  been  canvafled  and  difputed  with  great 
eagernefs,  fince  the  firft  origin  of  fcience  and  phi- 
lofophy,  that  the  meaning  of  all  the  terms,  atleaflr, 
fhould  have  been  agreed  upon  among  the  difpu- 
tants ;  and  our  enquiries,  in  the  courfe  of  two 
thoufand  years,  been  able  to  pafs  from  words  to 
the  true  and  real  fubjed:  of  the  controverfy.  For 
how  eafy  may  it  feem  to  give  exaft  definitions  of 
the  terms  employed  in  reafoning,  and  make  thefe 
definitions,  not  the  mere  found  of  words,  the  ob- 
je6t  of  future  fcrutiny  and  examination  r  But  if 
we  confider  the  matter  more  narrowly,  we  (hall 
be  apt  to  draw  a  quite  oppofite  conclufion.  From, 
this  circumftance  alone,  that  a  controverfy  has  beea 
long  kept  on  foot,  and  remains  ftill  undecided, 
we  may  prefume,  that  there  is  fome  ambiguiry  ia 
the  expreflion,  and  that  the  difputants  affix  diife- 
rent  ideas  to  the  terms  employed  in  the  controver- 
fy. For  as  the  faculties  of  the  mind  are 
fuppofed  to  be  naturally  alike  in  every  indivi- 
dual ;  otherwife  nothing  could  be  more  fruitlefs 
than  to  reafon  or  difpuce  together  j  it  were  impof- 

fible. 


86  SECTION     VIIL 

fible,  if  men  affix  the  fame  ideas  to  their  terrr? 
that  they  could  fo  long  form  different  opinion^ 
of  the  fame  fubjeft ;  efpecially  when  they  com- 
municate their  views,  and  each  party  turn  them-^ 
felves  on  all  fides,  in  fearch  of  arguments,  which 
may  give  them  the  vicftory  over  their  antagoniils. 
It  is  true  ;  if  men  attempt  the  difcuITion  of  quef- 
tions,  which  lie  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
capacity,  fuch  as  thofe  concerning  the  origin  of 
worlds,  or  the  ceconomy  of  the  intelleclual  fyftem 
or  region  of  fpirits,  they  may  long  beat  the  air 
in  their  fruitlefs  conteils,  and  never  arrive  at  any 
determinate  conclufion.  But  if  the  queftion  re- 
gard any  fubjedt  of  common  IJfe  and  experience  -, 
nothing,  one  would  thing,  could  prcferve  the  dif- 
pute  fo  long  undecided,  but  fome  ambiguous  ex- 
prefTions,  which  keep  the  antagonifls  ftill  at  a  dif- 
tance,  and  hinder  them  from  grappling  with  each 
other. 

This  has  been  the  cafe  in  the  long  difputed 
quefbion  concerning  liberty  and  necelTityj  and  to 
fo  remarkable  a  degree,  that,  if  I  be  not  much 
miftaken,  we  fhall  find,  that  all  mankind,  both 
learned  and  ignorant,  have  always  been  of  the 
fame  opinion  with  regard  to  this  fubjecb,  and  that 
a  few  intelligible  dehnitions  would  immediately 
have  put  an  end  to  the  whole  controverfy.  I  own, 
that  this  difpute  has  been  fo  much  canvafTed  on 
all  hands,  and  has  led  philofophers  into  fuch  a 
labyrinth  of  obfcure  fophiilry,  that  it  is  no  won- 
der, if  a  fenfible  reader  indulge  his  eafe  fo  far  as 
to  turn  a  dt^i"  ear  to  the  propofal  of  fuch  a  quef- 
tion, from  which  he  can  cxped  neither  inilrudion 
nor  entertainment.  But  the  Hate  of  the  argument 
here  propofed  may,  perhaps,  ferve  to  renew  his 
attention  ;  as  it  has  more  noveky,  promifes  at  lead 
fome  decifion  of  the  controverfy,  and  will  not 
much  diilurb  his  eafe  by  any  intricate  or  obfcure 
rcafoning. 

1  hope. 


'&• 


or  LiBERTv    and   Necessity.         87 

I  liope,  therefore,  to  make  it  appear,  that  all 
men  have  ever  agreed  in  the  dodrine  both  of  ne- 
cefllty  and  of  liberty,  according  to  any  reafonable 
fenfe,  which  can  be  put  on  thefe  terms  ;  and  that 
the  whole  controverfy  has  hitherto  turned  merely 
upon  words.  We  fhall  begin  with  examining  the 
doftrine  of  neceffity. 

It  is  univerlally  allowed,  that  matter,  in  all  its 
operations,  is  actuated  by  a  neceOary  force,  and 
that  every  natural  effedl  is  fo  jorecifely  determined 
by  the  energy  of  its  caufe,  that  no  other  eifeft,  in 
fuch  particular  circumftances,  could  pofTibly  have 
refulted  from  it.  The  degree  and  dire6lion  of 
every  motion  is,  by  the  laws  of  nature,  prefcribed 
with  fuch  exadnefs,  that  a  living  creature  may  as 
foon  arife  from  the  fhock  of  two  bodies,  as  moti- 
on, in  any  other  degree  or  dire6lion  than  what  is 
adlually  produced  by  it.  Would  we,  therefore, 
form  a  juft  and  precife  idea  of  necejjity^  wc  mufb 
confider  whence  that  idea  arifes,  when  we  apply 
it  to  the  operation  of  bodies. 

It  feems  evident,  that,  if  all  the  fcenes  of  na- 
ture were  continually  fhifted  in  fuch  a  manner, 
that  no  two  events  bore  any  refemblance  to  each 
other,  but  every  object  was  entirely  new,  without 
any  fimilitude  to  whatever  had  been  feen  before, 
we  fhould  never,  in  that  cafe,  have  attained  the 
leaft  idea  of  necciTity,  or  of  a  connexion  among 
thefe  objetts.  We  might  fay,  upon  fuch  a  fup- 
pofition,  that  one  objett  or  event  has  followed 
another  j  not  that  one  was  produced  by  the 
other.  The  relation  of  caufe  and  effett  muft 
be  utterly  unknown  to  mankind.  Inference  and 
reafoning  concerning  the  operations  of  nature 
would,  from  that  moment,  be  at  an  end  j  and 
the  memory  and  fenfes  remain  the  only  canals, 
by  which  the  knowledge  of  any  real  exillence 
could  pofiibly  have  accefs  to  the  mind.  Our 
idea,    therefore,  of  neceffity    and   caufation  arifes 

entirely 


88  SECTION       Vin. 

Entirely  from  the  uniformity,  obfervable  in  the 
operations  of  nature ;  where  fimilar  objetls  are" 
conftantly  conjoined  together,  and  the  mind  is 
determined  by  cuftom  to  infer  the  one  from  the 
appearance  of  the  other.  Thefe  two  circumftances 
form  the  whole  of  that  necefiity,  which  we  afcribe 
to  matter.  Beyond  the  conftant  conjanStion  of 
fimilar  objects,  and  the  confequent  inference  from 
one  to  the  other,  we  have  no  notion  of  any  necef- 
iity, or  connexion. 

If  it  appear,  therefore,  that  all  mankind  have 
ever  ailov/ed,  without  any  doubt  or  hefitation,  that 
thefe  two  circumftances  take  place  in  the  volun- 
tary aftions  of  men,  and  in  the  operations  of 
mind;  it  muft  follow,  that  all  mankind  have  ever 
agreed  in  the  doftrine  of  necelTity,  and  that  they 
have  hitherto  difputed,  merely  for  not  underftand- 
ing  each  other. 

As  to  the  firft  circumftance,  the  conftant  and  re- 
gular conjunction  of  fimilar  events;  we  may  pof- 
fibly  fatisfy  ourfelves  by  the  following  confide- 
rations.  It  is  univerfally  acknowleded,  that  there 
is  a  great  uniformity  among  the  aftions  of  men,' 
in  all  nations  and  ages,  and  that  human  nature 
femain^s  ftill  the  fame,  in  its  principles  and  ope- 
rations. The  fame  motives  always  produce  the 
fame  a<ftions  :  The  fame  events  follow  from  the 
fame  caufes.  Ambition,  avarice,  felf-love,  vanity, 
friendlhp,  generofity,  public  fpirit  ;  thefe  paflions, 
mixed  in  various  degrees,  and  dillributed  through 
fociety,  have  been,  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  and  ftill  are,  the  fource  of  all  the  ac- 
tions and  enterprizes,  which  have  ever  been  obfer\- 
ed  among  mankind.  Would  you  know  the  fen- 
timents,  inclinations,  and  courle  of  life  of  the 
Greeks  and  Romans  ?  Study  well  the  temper  and 
actions  of  the  French  and  Englifli .  You  cannot 
be  much  miftaken  in  transferring  to  the  former 
mojl  of  the   obfervations,    which   you   have  made 

v.'ith 


of   Liberty    and    Necessity.         S^ 

■with  regard  to  the  latter.  Mankind  are  fc  much 
the  fame,  in  all  times  and  places  that  hiftory  in- 
forms us  of  nothing  new  or  ftrange  in  this  parti- 
cular. Its  chief  ufe  is  only  to  difcover  the  con- 
ftant  and  univerfal  principles  of  human  nature,  by 
fliewing  men  in  all  varieties  of  circumftances  and 
fituations,  and  furnifhing  us  with  materials,  from 
which  we  may  form  our  obfervations,  and  become 
acquainted  with  the  regular  fprings  of  human  ac- 
tion and  behaviour.  Thefe  records  of  wars,  in- 
trigues, fa6\ions,  and  revolutions,  are  fo  many 
collections  of  experiments,  by  which  the  politi- 
cian or  moral  philofopher  fixes  the  principles  of  his 
fcience ;  in  the  fame  manner  as  the  phyfician  or 
natural  philofopher  becomes  acquainted  with  the 
nature  of  plants,  minerals,  and  other  external  ob- 
jedls,  by  the  experiments,  which  he  forms  con- 
cerning them.  Not  are  the  earth,  water,  and  other 
elements,  examined  by  Ariftotle,  and  Hippocrates, 
more  like  to  thofe,  which  at  prefent  lie  under  our 
obfervation,  than  the  men,  defcribed  by  Polybius 
and  Tacitus,  are  to  thofe,  who  now  govern  the 
world. 

Should  a  traveller,  returning  from  a  far  coun- 
try, bring  us  an  account  of  men,  wholly  different 
from  any,  with  whom  we  were  ever  acquainted ; 
men,  who  were  entirely  divefted  of  avarice,  ambi- 
tion, or  revenge ;  who  knew  no  pleafure  but  friend- 
fhip,  generofity,  and  public  fpirit ;  we  fhould  im- 
mediately, from  thefe  circumftances,  dete6t  the 
falfehood,  and  prove  him  a  liar,  with  the  fame 
certainty  as  if  he  had  ftuffed  his  narration  with 
ftories  of  centaurs  and  dragons,  miracles  and  pro- 
digies. And  if  we  would  explode  any  forgery  in 
hiftory,  we  cannot  make  ufe  of  a  more  convincing 
argument,  than  to  prove,  that  the  aftions,  afcrib- 
ed  to  any  perfon,  are  diredlly  contrary  to  the  courfe 
of  nature,  and  that  no  human  motives,  in  fuch 
circumftances,   could  ever  induce  him  to  fuch  a 

condud. 


9d  SECTION      VIII. 

condufl.  The  veracity  of  Quintus  Curtius  is  as 
much  to  be  fufpefted,  when  he  defcribes  the  fu- 
pernatural  courage  of  Alexander,  by  which  he  was 
hurried  on  fingly  to  attack  multitudes,  as  when 
he  defcribes  his  fupernatural  force  and  adivity,  by 
which  he  was  able  to  refift  them.  So  readily  and 
univerfally  do  we  acknowledge  a  uniformity  in  hu- 
man motives  and  adlions  as  well  as  in  the  operati- 
ons of  body. 

Hence  likewife  the  benefit  of  that  experience, 
acquired  by  long  life  and  a  variety  of  bufinefs  and 
company,  in  order  to  inftru(5t  us  in  the  principles 
of  human  nature,  and  regulate  our  future  conduct, 
as  well  as  fpeculation.  By  means  of  this  guide, 
we  mount  up  to  the  knowledge  of  men's  inclina- 
tions and  motives,  from  their  a6tions,  expreffions, 
and  even  geftures  ;  and  again,  defcend  to  the  in- 
terpretation of  their  anions  from  our  knowledge  of 
their  motives  and  inclinations.  The  general  ob- 
fervations,  treafured  up  by  a  courfe  of  experience, 
give  us  the  clue  of  human  nature,  and  teach  us 
to  unravel  all  its  intricacies.  Pretexts  and  ap- 
pearances no  longer  deceive  us.  Public  declarati- 
ons pafs  for  the  fpecious  colouring  of  a  caufe. 
And  though  virtue  and  honour  be  allowed  their 
proper  weight  and  authority,  that  perfe<5t  difinte- 
reftednefs,  fo  often  pretended  to,  is  never  expedled 
in  multitudes  and  parties  ;  feldom  in  their  lea- 
ders ;  and  fcarcely  even  in  individuals  of  any  rank 
or  ftation.  But  were  there  no  uniformity  in  hu- 
man adions,  and  were  every  experiment,  which 
wc  could  form  of  this  kind,  irregular  and  ano- 
malous, it  were  impoiTible  to  collect  any  general 
obfervations  concerning  mankind ;  and  no  expe- 
rience, however  accurately  digclled  by  retieftion, 
would  ever  ferve  to  any  purpofe.  Why  is  the 
^ged  hufbandman  more  ilcilful  in  his  calling  than 
the  young  beginner,  but  becaufe  there  is  a  cer- 
tain uniformity  in  the  operation  of  the  fun,  rain, 

and 


Of  Liberty    and  Necessity.         91 

and  earth,  towards  the  production  of  vegeta- 
bles ;  and  experience  teaches  the  old  pradtitioner 
the  rules,  by  which  this  operation  is  governed  and 
dirc<fled. 

We  mufl  not,  however,  expeft,  that  this  uni- 
formity of  human  adlions  fhould  be  carried  to  fiich 
a  leneth,  as  that  all  men,  in  the  fame  circum- 
ftances,  will  always  adl  precifely  in  the  fame  man- 
ner, without  making  any  allowance  for  the  diver- 
fity  of  characT:ers,  prejudices,  and  opinions.  Such 
a  uniformity  in  every  particular,  is  found  in  no 
part  of  nature.  On  the  contrary,  from  obferving 
the  variety  of  conduct  in  different  men,  we  are 
enabled  to-  form  a  greater  variety  of  maxims, 
which  ftill  fuppofe  a  degree  of  uniformity  and  re- 
gularity. 

Are  the  manners  of  men  different  in  different 
ages  and  countries  ?  We  learn  thence  the  great 
force  of  cultom  and  education,  which  mould  the 
human  mind  from  its  infancy,  and  form  it  into  a 
fixed  and  eftablifhed  chara£ter.  Is  the  behaviour 
and  conduct  of  the  one  fex  very  unlike  that  of  the 
other  ?  It  is  thence  we  become  acquainted  with 
the  different  characters,-  which  nature  has  impreffed 
upon  the  fexes,  and  which  fhe  preferves  with  con- 
ftancy  and  regularity.  Are  the  adtions  of  the 
fame  perfon  much  diverfified  in  the  different  pe- 
riods of  his  life,  from  infancy  to  old  age  ?  This 
affords  room  for  many  general  obfervations  con- 
cerning the  gradual  change  of  our  fentiments 
and  inclinations,  and  the  different  maxims,  which 
prevail  in  the  different  ages  of  human  creatures. 
Even  the  characters,  which  are  peculiar  to  each 
individual,  have  a  uniformity  in  their  influence; 
otherwife  our  acquaintance  with  the  perfons  and 
our  obfervation  of  their  condu6t,  could  never  teach 
us  their  difpofitions,  or  ferve  to  dire6l  our  behavi- 


our with  regard  to  them. 


I  grant 


92  SECTION      viir. 

I  grant  it  pofTible  to  find  fome  adions,  which 
feem  to  have  no  regular  connexion  with  any  known 
motives,  and  are  exceptions  to  all  the  meafures  of 
condiid:,  which  have  ever  been  eftablijfhed  for  the 
government  of  men.  But  if  v/e  would  willingly 
know,  what  judgment  fliould  be  formed  of  fuch  ir- 
regular and  extraordinary  aftions ;  we  may  con- 
fider  the  fentiments,  commonly  entertained  with 
regard  to  thofe  irregular  events,  which  appear  in 
the  courfe  of  nature,  and  the  operations  of  exter- 
nal objefls.  All  caufes  are  not  conjoined  to  their 
ufual  effects,  with  like  uniformity.  An  artificer, 
who  handles  only  dead  matter,  may  be  difappoint- 
ed  of  his  aim,  as  well  as  the  politician,  who  di- 
redls  the  condud;  of  fenfible  and  intelligent 
agents. 

The  vulgar,  who  take  things  according  to  their 
firft  appearance,  attribute  the  uncertainty  of  events 
to  fuch  an  uncertainty  in  the  caufes  as  makes 
the  latter  often  fail  of  their  ufual  influence;  though 
they  meet  with  no  impediment  in  their  operati- 
on. But  philofophers,  obferving,  that,  almoft  in 
every  part  of  nature,  there  is  contained  a  vaft  va- 
riety of  fprings  and  principles,  which  are  hid,  by 
reafon  of  their  minutenefs  or  remotenefs,  find,  that 
it  is  at  leaft  poffible  the  contrariety  of  events  may 
not  proceed  from  any  contingency  in  the  caufe,  but 
from  the  fecret  operation  of  contrary  caufes.  This 
pofTibility  is  converted  into  certainty  by  farther  ob- 
fcrvation  ;  when  they  remark,  that,  upon  an  exa£t 
fcrutiny,  a  contrariety  of  efiefts  always  betrays  a 
contrariety  of  caufes,  and  proceeds  from  their  mu- 
tual oppofition.  A  peafant  can  give  no  better 
reafon  for  the  Hopping  of  any  clock  or  watch  than 
to  fay  that  it  does  not  commonly  go  right :  But 
an  artift:  eafily  perceives,  that  the  fame  force  in  the 
fpring  or  pendulum  has  always  the  fame  influence 
on  the  wheels  j  but  fails  of  its  ufual  efl^edt,  perhaps 
by  reafon  of  a  grain  of  duft:,   which  puts  a  ftop  to 

the 


or  Liberty    and   Necessity.         97 

the  whole  movement.  From  the  obfervation  o 
feveral  parallel  inftances,  philofophers  form  a 
maxim,  that  the  connexion  between  all  caiil'es  and 
effects  is  equally  neceffary,  and  that  its  Teeming 
uncertainty  in  fome  inllances  proceeds  from  the  fe- 
cret  oppofition  of  contrary  caufes. 

Thus  for  inftance,  in  the  human  body,  when 
the  ufual  fymptoms  of  health  or  ficknefs  difappoint 
our  expectation  -,  when  medicines  operate  not  with 
their  wonted  powers  j  when  irregular  events  fol- 
low from  any  particular  caufe  j  the  philofopher 
and  phyfician  are  not  furprized  at  the  matter,  nor 
are  ever  tempted  to  deny,  in  general,  the  neceffity 
and  uniformity  of  thofe  principles,  by  which  the 
animal  oeconomy  is  conducted.  They  know,  that 
a  human  body  is  a  mighty  complicated  machine : 
That  many  fecret  powers  lurk  in  it,  which  are  al- 
together beyond  our  comprehenfion  :  That  to  us  it 
muft  often  appear  very  uncertain  in  its  operations  : 
And  that  therefore  the  irregular  events,  which  out- 
wardly difcover  themfelves,  can  be  no  proof,  that 
the  laws  of  nature  are  not  obferved  with  the 
greateft  regularity  in  its  internal  operations  and 
government. 

The  philofopher,  if  he  be  confident,  muft  apply 
the  fame  reafoning  to  the  actions  and  volitions  of 
intelligent  agents.  The  moft  irregular  and  un- 
expected refolutions  of  men  may  frequently  be 
accounted  for  by  thofe,  who  know  every  particular 
circumftance  of  their  chara6ler  and  fituation.  A 
perfon  of  an  obliging  difpofition  gives  a  peevifh. 
anfwer  .  But  he  has  the  toothake,  or  has  not  dined. 
A  ftupid  fellow  difcovers  an  uncommon  alacrity  in 
his  carriage  :  But  he  has  met  with  a  fudden  piece 
of  good  fortune.  Or  even  when  an  adion,  as 
fometimes  happens,  cannot  be  particularly  account- 
ed for,  either  by  the  perfon  himfelf  or  by  others ; 
we  know,  in  general,  that  the  chara6ters  of  men 
arCj  to  a  certain  degree,    inconftanc  and  irregular. 

This 


94  SECTION      VIII. 

This  is,  in  a  manner,  the  conflant  tharader  of 
human  n;itiire  ;  though  it  be  applicable,  in  a  more 
particular  manner,  to  fome  perfons,  who  have  no 
fixed  rule  for  their  conduct,  but  proceed  in  a  con- 
tinued courfe  of  caprice  and  inconftancy.  The 
internal  principles  and  motives  may  operate  in  a 
uniform  manner,  notvvithftanding  thefe  feeming 
irregularities  -,  in  the  fame  manner  as  the  winds, 
rain,  clouds,  and  other  variations  of  the  weather 
are  fuppofed  to  be  governed  by  fteady  principles  ; 
thougli  not  eafily  difcoverable  by  human  fagacity 
and  enquiry. 

Thus  it  appears,  not  only  that  the  conjundion 
between  motives  and  voluntary  aftions  is  as  regu- 
lar and  uniform,  as  that  between  the  caufe  and 
efFeft  in  any  part  of  nature  ;  but  alfo  that  this  re- 
gular conjundion  has  been  univerfally  acknow- 
ledged among  mankind,  and  has  never  been  the 
fubje6t  of  difpute,  either  in  philofophy  or  com- 
mon life.  Now,  as  it  is  from  pad  experience, 
that  we  draw  all  inferences  concerning  the  fu- 
ture, and  as  we  conclude,  that  objects  will  al- 
ways be  conjoined  together,  which  we  find  to  have 
always  been  conjoined ;  it  may  feem  fuperfluous 
to  prove,  that  this  experienced  uniformity  in  hu- 
man acftions  is  a  fource,  whence  we  draw  inferen- 
ces concerning  them.  But  in  order  to  throw 
the  argument  into  a  greater  variety  of  lights, 
we  fliall  alfo  infill,  though  briefly,  on  this  lat- 
ter topic. 

The  mutual  dependence  of  men  is  fo  great, 
in  all  focieties,  that  fcarce  any  human  aclion  is 
entirely  compleat  in  itfelf,  or  is  performed  with- 
out fome  reference  to  the  adlions  of  others,  which 
are  requifite  to  make  it  anfwer  fully  the  intention 
of  the  agent.  The  pooreil  artificer,  who  labours 
alone,  expefts  at  lealt  the  protedion  of  the  magi- 
Itrate,  to  enfure  him  the  enjoyment  of  the  fruits 
of  hid  labour.      He  alfo  expeds,   that,  when   he 

carries 


Of  Liberty    and   Necessity.         95 

carries  his  goods  to  market,  and  oflers  them  at 
a  reafonable  price,  he  fhall  find  purchafers;  and 
fhall  be  able,  by  the  money  he  acq'iires,  to  en- 
gage others  to  fupply  him  with  thofe  commodi- 
ties, which  are  requifite  for  his  fubfiftence.  In 
proportion  as  men  extend  their  dealings,  and  ren- 
der their  intercourfe  with  others  more  complicated, 
they  always  comprehend,  in  their  fchemes  of  life, 
a  greater  variety  of  voluntary  anions,  which  they 
expedl,  from  the  proper  motives,  to  co-operate 
with  their  own.  In  all  thefe  conclufions,  they 
take  their  meafures  from  paft  experience,  in  the 
fame  manner  as  in  their  reafonings  concerning  ex- 
ternal objects ;  and  firmly  believe,  that  men,  as 
well  as  all  the  elements,  are  to  continue,  in  their 
operations,  the  fame,  that  they  haye  ever  found 
them.  A  manufacturer  reckons  upon  the  labour 
of  his  fervants,  for  the  execution  of  any  work,  as 
much  as  upon  the  tools,  which  he  employs,  and 
would  be  equally  furprized,  were  his  expedations 
difappointed.  In  fhort,  this  experimental  inference 
and  reafoning  concerning  the  adions  of  others  en- 
ters fo  much  into  human  life,  that  no  man,  while 
awake,  is  ever  a  moment  without  employing  it. 
Have  we  not  reafon,  therefore,  to  affirm,  that  all 
mankind  have  always  agreed  in  the  doftrine  of  ne- 
ccfllry,  according  to  the  foregoing  definition  and 
explication  of  it  ? 

Nor  have  philofophers  ever  entertained  a  diffe- 
rent opinion  from  the  people  in  this  particular. 
For  not  to  mention,  that  almoft  every  a£lion  of 
their  life  fuppofes  that  opinion  ;  there  are  even 
few  of  the  fpeculative  parts  of  learning,  to  which 
it  is  not  efiential.  What  would  become  o( hijiory, 
had  we  not  a  dependence  on  the  veracity  of  the 
hiftorian,  according  to  the  experience,  which  we 
have  had  of  mankind  ?  How  could  politics  be  a 
fcience,  if  laws  and  forms  of  government  had  not 
a  uniform  influence  upon  fociety  ?  Where  would  be 

the 


96  SECTION     VIII. 

the  foundation  of  morals^  if  particular  charafters 
had  no  certain  or  determinate  power  to  produce 
particular  fentiments,  and  if  thefe  fentinrjents  had 
no  conftant  operation  on  actions  ?  And  with  what 
pretence  could  we  employ  our  criticijm  upon  any 
poet  or  polite  author,  if  we  could  not  pronounce 
the  condu(5l  and  fentiment  of  his  a61:ors,  either  na- 
tural or  unnatural,  to  fuch  characters,  and  in  fuch 
circumftances  ?  It  feems  almoft  impofiible,  there- 
fore, to  engage,  either  in  fcience  or  aftion  of  any 
kind,  without  acknowledging  the  doclrine  of  ne- 
cefTity,  and  this  inference  from  motives  to  voluntary 
adtions  ;  from  characters  to  conduft. 

And  indeed,  when  we  confider  how  aptly  yiatural 
and  moral  evidence  link  together,  and  form  only 
one  chain  of  argument,  we  fhall  make  no  fcruple 
to  allow,  that  they  are  of  the  fame  nature,  and  de- 
rived Yrom  the  fame  principles.  A  prifoner,  who 
has  neither  money  nor  intereft,  difcovers  the  im- 
polTibility  of  his  efcape,  as  well  when  he  confiders 
the  obftinacy  of  the  gaoler,  as  the  walls  and  bars, 
•with  which  he  is  furrounded ;  and,  in  all  attempts 
for  his  freedom,  chufes  rather  to  work  upon  the 
ftone  and  iron  of  the  one,  than  upon  the  inflexible 
nature  of  the  other.  The  fame  prifoner,  when 
condufted  to  the  fcafFold,  forefces  his  death  as 
certainly  from  the  conftancy  and  fidelity,  of  his 
guards,  as  from  the  operation  of  the  ax  or  wheel. 
His  mind  runs  along  a  certain  train  of  ideas :  The 
refufal  of  the  foldiers  to  confent  to  his  efcape ; 
the  aftion  of  the  executioner  \  the  feparation  of  the 
head  and  body  ;  bleeding,  convulfive  motions,  and 
death.  Here  is  a  connefted  chain  of  natural  caufes 
and  voluntary  aftions ;  but  the  mind  feels  no  dif- 
ference between  them,  in  palTing  from  one  link  to 
another  :  Nor  is  lefs  certain  of  the  future  event 
than  if  it  were  conncd:ed  with  the  objcdls  prefent 
to  the  memory  or  fenfes,  by  a  train  of  caufes,  ce- 
mented together  by  what  we  are  pleafed  to  call  a 

fhyfical 


Of  L I  B  E  R  T  V   and  Necessitv.         97 

phyf:c(il  ntCQ^xiy.  The  fame  experienced  union  has 
the  fame  effect  on  the  mind,  whether  the  united 
objects  be  motives,  volition,  and  adlions  ;  or  figure 
and  motion.  We  may  change  the  names  of  things ; 
but  their  nature  and  their  operation  on  die  under- 
ftandino;  never  chano;e. 

Were  a  man,  whom  I  know  to  be  honed  and 
opulent,  and  with  whom  I  live  in  intimate  friend- 
fhip,  to  come  into  my  houfe,  where  I  am  furround- 
ed  with  my  fervants,  I  reft  afTured,  that  he  is  not 
to  ftab  me  before  he  leaves  it,  in  order  to  rob  me 
of  my  filver  ftandil"h  j  and  I  no  more  fufucil  this 
event,  than  the  falling  of  the  houfe  itfelf  which  is 
new,  and  folidly  built  and  founded. — But  be  may 
have  been  feized  with  a  Judden  and  unknown  frenzy. 
— So  may  a  fudden  earthquake  arife,  and  fliake 
and  tumble  my  houfe  about  my  ears.  I  fhall 
therefore  change  the  fuppofitions.  I  fhall  fay,  that 
I  know  with  certainty,  that  he  is  not  to  put  his 
hand  into  the  fire,  and  hold  it  there,  till  it  be 
confumed  :  And  this  event,  I  think  I  can  foretell 
with  the  fame  affiirance,  as  that,  if  he  throw  him- 
felf  out  at  the  windov/,  and  meet  with  no  obftruc- 
tion,  he  will  not  remain  a  moment  fufpended  in  the 
air.  No  fufpicion  of  an  unknown  frenzy  can  give 
the  leaft  pollibility  to  the  former  event,  which  is 
fo  contrary  to  all  the  known  principles  of  human 
nature.  A  inan  who  at  noon  leaves  his  purfe  full 
of  gold  on  the  pavement  at  Charing-Crofs,  may 
as  well  expe6t  that  it  will  fiy  away  like  a  feather, 
as  that  he  will  find  it  untouched  an  hour  after. 
Above  one  half  of  human  reafonings  contain  in- 
ferences of  a  fimilar  nature,  attended  with  more  or 
lefs  degrees  of  certainty,  proportioned  to  our  ex- 
perience of  the  ufual  condud  of  mankind  in  fuch 
particular  fituations. 

Vol.  II.  H  I  have 


98  SECTION      VIII. 

1  have  frequently  confidered,  what  could  pofli- 
bly  be  the  reafon,   why  all  mankind,  though  they 
have  ever,    without    hefitation,    acknowledged   the 
dodrine   of  neceffity,    in  their  whole  practice  and 
reafoning,   have  yet  difcovered  luch  a  reludlance  to 
acknowledge  it  in  words,   and  have  rather  fnewn  a 
propenfity,   in    all   ages,    to    profefs    the    contrary 
opinion.     The  matter,  I  think,  may  be  accounted 
for,   after  the  following   manner.     If  we  examine 
the  operations    of     body,    and  the    production   of 
effedls  from  their  caufes,  we  fiiall  find,  that  all  our 
faculties  can  never  carry  us   farther  in  our  know- 
ledge of  this  relation,   than  barely  to  obferve,  that 
particular   objetts   are  confiantly  conjoined  together, 
and  that  the  mind  is  carried,   by  a  cufiomary  tranfi- 
t'lon^  from  the  appearance  of  one  to  the   belief  of 
the  other.     But  though   this  conclufion  concerning 
human    ignorance    be    the    refult    of    the    flri(fteft 
fcrutiny  of  this  fubjecl,  men  Hill  entertain  a  flrong 
propenfity    to  believe,  that  they  penetrate    farther 
into  the  powers  of  nature,  and  perceive  fomething 
like  a   necefTary  connexion   between  the   caufe  and 
the  effedl.     When  again  they  turn  their  reflections 
towards   the  operations  of  their  own  minds,    and 
feel  no  fuch  connexion  of  the  motive  and   the  ac- 
tion ;   they  are  thence  apt  to  fuppofe,  that  there  is  a 
diflerence  between  the  effects,  which  refult  from  ma- 
terial force,    and   thofe   which   arile  from    thought 
and  intelligence.     But  beinn;  once  convinced,   that 
we  know  nothing  farther  ol  caufation  of  any  kind, 
than    merely    the    conjlant    conjiin^ion    of    objefts, 
and  the    confequent    inference   ot    the    mind   from 
one   to    another,  and  finding,   that   thefe  two  cir- 
cumfbances   are  univerfally    allowed  to  have  place 
in  voluntary  actions ;  we  may  be  more   eafily   led 
to  own   the  fame   neceffity  common   to  all  caufes. 
And  th.ough   this   reafoning  mav  contradift  the  fyf- 
tems  of  many  philofophers,   in   afcribing   necelTity 
to  the  determinations  of  the  will,  we  Ihall  find, 

upon 


or  Liberty  and  Necessity.         99 

upon  refleftion,  that  they  difTent  from  it  in  words 
only,  not  in  their  real  fentimcnt.  NecefTity,  ac- 
cordino;  to  the  fenfe,  in  which  it  is  here  taken,  has 
never  yet  been  rejeded,  nor  can  ever,  I  think,  be 
rejefted  by  any  philofopher.  It  may  only,  perhaps, 
be  pretended,  that  the  mind  can  perceive,  in  the 
operations  of  matter,  fome  farther  connexion  be- 
tween the  caufe  and  effect;  and  a  connexion  that 
has  not  place  in  the  voluntary  aftions  of  intelli- 
gent beings.  Now  whether  it  be  fo  or  not, 
can  only  appear  upon  examination  ;  and  it  is  in- 
cumbent on  thcfe  philofophers  to  make  good  their 
affertion,  by  defining  or  defcribing  that  neceffity, 
and  pointing  it  out  to  us  in  the  operations  of  ma- 
terial caufcs. 

It  would  feem,  indeed,  that  men  begin  at  the 
wrong  end  of  this  queftion  concerning  liberty 
and  neceflity,  when  they  enter  upon  it  by  ex- 
amining the  faculties  of  the  foul,  the  influence  of 
the  underftanding,  and  the  operations  of  the  will. 
Let  them  firll  difcufs  a  more  fimple  queftion, 
namely,  the  operations  of  body  and  of  brute 
unintelligent  matter  j  and  try  whether  they  can 
there  form  any  idea  of  caufation  and  necefTity, 
except  that  of  a  conftant  conjunftion  of  objefts, 
and  fubfequent  inference  of  the  mind  from  one 
to  another.  If  thefe  circumftances  form,  in 
reality,  the  whole  of  that  necefTity,  which  we 
conceive  in  matter,  and  if  thefe  circumftances  be 
alfo  univerfally  acknowledged  to  take  place  in 
the  operations  of  the  mind,  the  difpute  is  at  an 
end  ;  at  leaft,  muft  be  owned  to  be  thenceforth, 
merely  verbal.  But  as  long  as  we  will  rafhly 
fuppofe,  that  we  have  fome  farther  idea  of  ne- 
cefTity and  caufation  in  the  operations  of  exter- 
nal objects  ;  at  the  fame  time,  that  we  can  find 
nothing  farther,  in  the  voluntary  aflions  of  the 
mind ;  there  is  no  pofTibility  of  bringing  the 
c[ueflion  t;o  any  determinate  iflue,  while  we  pro- 

H  Q,  ceed 


TOO      SECTION    virr. 

ceed  upon  fo  erroneous  a  fuppofition.  The  on^ 
ly  method  of  undeceiving  us,  is>  to  mount  up 
higher]  to  examine  the  narrow  extent  of  fcience 
when  applied  to  material  caiifes  j  and  to  convince- 
ourfelves,  that  all  we  know  of  them,  is,  the  con- 
ilant  conjun6lion  and  inference  above  mention- 
ed. We  may,  perhaps,  find,  that  it  is  with  diffi- 
culty we  are  induced  to  fix  fuch  narrow  limits  to  hu- 
man underftanding  :  But  we  can  afterwards  find  no 
difficulty  when  we  come  to  apply  this  doctrine  to  the' 
a6lions  of  the  will.  For  as  it  is  evident,,  that 
thefe  have  a  regular  conjundion  with  motives^ 
and  circumftances  and  chara6lers,  and  as  we  al- 
ways draw  inferences  from  one  to  the  other,  we 
mufl  be  obliged  to  acknowledge  in  words,  that 
necelTity,  which  v/e  have  already  avowed,  in  eve- 
ry deliberation  of  our  lives,  and  in  every  Hep  or 
our  condu(5l  and  behaviour*. 

But  to  proceed  in  this  reconciling  projefl  with 
regard  to  the  queftion  of  liberty  and  neceffity ; 
the  moft  contentious  queftion,  of  metaphyfics, 
tlie  moft  contentious  fcience ;  it  will  not  require 
many  words  to  prove,-  that  all  mankind  have 
ever  agreed  in  the  dodrine  of  liberty  as  well  as 
in  that  of  neceffity,  and  that  the  whole  difpute,. 
in  this  refpeft  alfo,  has  been  hitherto  merely  ver- 
bal. For  what  is  meant  by  liberty,  when  appli- 
ed to  voluntary  atlions  ?  We  cannot  furely  mean, 
that  actions  have  fo  little  connexion  with  mo- 
tives, inclinations,  and  circumftances,  that  one 
does  not  follow  with  a  certain  degree  of  uni- 
formity from  the  other,  and  that  one  afiords  no 
inference  by  which  we  can  conclude  the  exif- 
tcnce  of  the  other.  For  thefe  are  plain  and  ac- 
knovvlcdged  matters  of  fadt.  By  liberty,  then, 
we  can  only  mean  a  power  of  a^ing  or  7iot  atlingy 
eiccording  to  the  deienninatioHS  of  the  will ;  that  is> 

if 

•  Sec  NOTE  [FJ. 


Of  Liberty    and  N  e  c  e  s  s  i  t  v.         i oi 

if  we  chufe  to  remain  at  refl,  we  may;  if  we 
•chufe  to  move,  we  alfo  may.  Now  this  hypo- 
thetical liberty  is  univerfally  allowed  to  belong 
to  every  one,  who  is  not  a  prifoner  and  in  chains. 
Here  then  is   no   fubjefb  of  difpute. 

Whatever  definition  we  may  give  of  liberty, 
we  flioiild  be  careful  to  obferve  two  reqiiifite 
-circumllancesj  firjl^  that  it  be  confiftent  with  plain 
matter  of  fa6t;  fecoiidly,  that  it  be  confiftent  with 
itfelf.  If  we  obferve  thefe  circumftances,  and  ren- 
der our  definition  intelligible,  I  am  perfuaded  that 
all  mankind  w^ill  be  found  of  one  opinion  with 
regard  to  it. 

It  is  univerfally  allowed^  that  nothing  exifts 
without  a  caufc  of  its  exiftence,  and  that  chance, 
when  ftridly  examined,  is  a  mere  negative  word, 
and  means  not  any  real  power,  which  has  any 
where,  a  being  in  nature.  But  it  is  pretended, 
that  fome  caufes  are  neceflary,  fome  not  necef- 
fary.  Her-e  then  is  the  advantage  of  definitions. 
Let  any  one  define  a  caufe,  without  comprehend- 
ing, as  a  part  of  the  defijiition,  a  necejj'ary  con- 
nexion with  its  efFeft ;  and  let  him  Jdiew  difl:in6lly 
the  origin  of  the  idea^  cxprefTed  by  the  defini- 
tion;  and  I  fhall  readily  give  up  the  whole  con - 
troverfy.  But  if  the  foregoing  explication  -of  the 
matter  be  received,  this  muft  be  abfolutely  im- 
pradlicable.  Had  not  objeds  a  regular  conjunc- 
tion with  each  other,  we  fhould  fiever  have  en- 
tertained any  notion  of  caufe  and  efi-ecl;  and  this 
regular  conjundlion  produces  that  inference  of 
the  underftanding,  which  is  the  only  connexion, 
that  we  can  have  any  comprehenfion  of.  Who- 
ever attempts  a  definition  of  caufe,  exclufive  of 
thefe  circumftances,  will  be  obliged,  either  to  em- 
ploy unintelligible  terms,  or  fuch  as  are  fyno- 
nimous  to  the  term,  which  he  endeavours  to  de- 
fine*.     And   if  the  definition    above   mentioned 

be 
*  See  NOTE  [G]. 


102         SECTION      VIII. 

be  admitted ;  liberty,  when  oppofed  to  necefllty, 
not  to  conftraint,  is  the  fame  thing  with  chance; 
which  is  univerfally  allowed  to  have  no  exiftence. 

PART      II. 

There  is  no  method  of  reafoning  more  com- 
mon, and  yet  none  more  blameable,  than,  in  phi- 
lofophical  difputes,  to  endeavour  the  refutation  of 
any  hypothefis,  by  a  pretence  of  its  dangerous  con- 
fequences  to  religion  and  morality.  When  any 
opinion  leads  to  abfurdities,  it  is  certainly  falfej 
but  it  is  not  certain  that  an  opinion  is  falfe,  be- 
caufe  it  is  of  dangerous  confequence.  Such  topics, 
therefore,  ought  entirely  to  be  forborne;  as  ferv- 
ing  nothing  to  the  difcovery  of  truth,  but  only 
to  make  the  perfon  of  an  antagonift  odious. 
This  I  obferve  in  general,  without  pretending  to 
xiraw  any  advantage  from  it.  I  frankly  fubmit 
to  an  examination  of  this  kind,  and  fhall  ven- 
ture to  affirm,  that  the  doclrines,  both  of  necef- 
fity  and  of  liberty,  as  above  explained,  are  not 
only  confiftent  with  morality,  but  are  abfolute- 
ly  efiential  to   its  fupport. 

Necefllty  may  be  defined  two  ways,  confor- 
mably to  the  two  definitions  of  cauje^  of  which 
it  makes  an  eflVntial  part.  It  confifts  either  in 
the  conftant  conjundion  of  like  objefts,  or  in  the 
inference  of  the  undcrfhanding  from  one  objedl  to 
another.  Now  necefllty,  in  both  thefe  fenfes, 
(which,  indeed,  arc  at  the  bottom,  the  fame)  has 
univerfally,  though  tacitly,  in  the  fchools,  in  the 
pulpit,  and  in  common  life,  been  allowed  to  be- 
long to  the  will  of  man;  and  no  one  has  ever 
pretended  to  deny,  that  we  can  draw  inferences 
concerning  human  adlions,  and  that  thofe  in- 
ferences are  founded  on  the  experrenced  union 
of  like  actions,  v/ith  like  motives,  inclinations, 
and  circuinitances.     The  only  particular,  in  which 

a.ny 


of  Liberty  and  Nf. cessity.         103 

any  one  can  differ,  is,  that  either,  perhaps,  he 
will  refufe  to  give  the  name  of  neceffity  to  this 
property  of  human  actions :  But  as  long  as  the 
meaning  is  underftood,  I  hope  the  word  can  do 
no  harm:  Or  that  he  will  maintain  it  poffible  to 
difcover  fomething  farther  in  the  operations  of 
matter.  But  this,  it  muft  be  acknowledged,  can 
be  of  no  confequence  to  morality  or  religion, 
whatever  it  may  be  to  natural  philofophy  or  me- 
taphyfics.  We  may  here  be  miftaken  in  alTerting,  that 
there  is  no  idea  of  any  other  necelTary  connex- 
ion in  the  adions  of  body :  But  furely  we  af- 
cribe  nothing  to  the  a6lions  of  the  mind,  but 
what  every  one  does,  and  muft  readily  allow 
of.  We  change  no  circumftance  in  the  receiv- 
ed orthodox  fyftem  with  regard  to  the  will,  but 
only  in  that  with  regard  to  material  objefts  and 
caufes.  Nothing  therefore  can  be  more  innocent, 
at  leaft,  than   this   do6lrine. 

All  laws  being  founded  on  rewards  and  pu- 
nifhrnjcntSj  it  is  fuppofed  as  a  fundamental  prin- 
ciple, that  thefe  motives  have  a  regular  and  uni- 
form influence  on  the  mind,  and  both  produce 
the  good  and  prevent  the  evil  adtions.  We  may 
give  to  this  influence  what  name  we  pleafej  but, 
as  it  is  ufually  conjoined  with  the  aftion,  it  muft 
be  efteemed  a  cauje,  and  be  looked  upon  as  an 
inftance  of  that  neceffity,  which  we  would  here 
eftabliih. 

The  only  proper  object  of  hatred  Dr  ven- 
geance, is  a  perfon  or  creature,  endowed  with 
thought  and  confcioufnefsi  and  when  any  crimi- 
nal or  injurious  actions  excite  that  paffion,  it  is 
only  by  their  relation  to  the  perfon,  or  connexi- 
on with  him.  Actions  are,  by  their  very  nature, 
temporary  and  perilhingj  and  where  they  pro- 
ceed not  from  fome  caufe  in  the  character  and 
difpofition  of  the  perfon  who  performed  them, 
they   can  neither  redound  to  his  honour,  if  good; 


nor 


J04  SECTION       VIII. 

nor  infamy,  if  evil.  The  actions  themfelves  may 
be  blameable;  they  may  be  contrary  to  all  the 
rules  of  morality  and  religion:  But  the  perfon 
is  not  anfwerable  for  them  3  and  as  they  pro- 
ceeded from  nothing  in  him,  that  is  durable  and 
coniLant,  and  leave  nothing  of  that  nature  behind 
them,  it  is  impcffible  he  can  upon  their  account, 
becom.e  the  object  of  punifhment  or  vengeance. 
According  to  che  principle,  therefore,  which  de- 
nies nccelTity,  and  confequently  caufes,  a  man  is 
as  pure  and  untainted,  alter  having  committed 
the  moil  horrid  crime,  as  at  the  firll  moment; 
of  his  b'-^h,  nor  is  his  character  any  wife  con- 
cerned in  his  actions;  lince  they  are  not  derived 
from  it,  and  the  wickedneis  of  the  one  can  ne- 
ver beufed  as  a  proof  of  the  depravity  of  the  other. 

Men  are  not  blamed  for  fuch  actions,  as  they 
perform  ignorandy  and  cafually,  whatever  may 
be  the  confeq.iences.  Why  ?  but  becaule  the  prin- 
ciples of  thefe  actions  are  only  momentary,  and 
terminate  in  them  alone.  Men  are  lefs  blamed 
for  fuch  actions  as  they  perform  haftily  and  un- 
premeditately,  than  for  fuch  as  proceed  from  de- 
liberation. For  what  realbn  ?  but  becaufe  a  halty 
temper,  though  a  conftant  caufe  or  principle  ia 
the  mind,  operates  only  by  intervals,  and  infects 
not  the  whole  character.  Again,  repentance  wipes 
off  any  crime,  if  attended  with  a  reformation  of 
life  and  manners.  How  is  this  to  be  accounted 
for?  but  by  afferting,  that  actions  render  a  per- 
fon criminal,  merely  as  they  are  proofs  of  cri- 
minal principles  in  the  mindj  and  when,  by  an 
alteration  of  thefe  principles,  they  ceafe  to  be 
juft  proofs,  they  likewife  ceafe  to  be  criminal. 
But,  except  upon  the  doctrine  of  necefTity,  they 
never  were  juil  proofs,  and  confequently  never 
were  criminal. 

It  will  be  equally  eafy  to  prove,  and  from  the 
fame   arguments,    that  liberty^  according  to   that 

•  definition 


of  Liberty   and  Necessity.         105 

definition  above  mentioned,  in  which  all  men 
agree,  is  alfo  cffential  to  morality,  and  that  no 
human  actions,  where  it  is  wanting,  are  fufcep- 
tible  of  any  moral  qualities,  or  can  be  the  ob- 
jects either  of  approbation  or  diOike.  For  as 
actions  are  objects  of  our  moral  fentiment,  fo  far 
only  as  they  are  indications  of  the  internal  cha- 
racter, pafnons,  and  affections ;  it  is  impoffible 
that  they  can  give  rife  either  to  praife  or  blame, 
where  they  proceed  not  from  thefe  principles,  but 
are  derived  altogether  from  external  violence. 

I  pretend  not  to  have  obviated  or  rcmove4 
all  obje6lions  to  this  theory,  with  regard  to  ne- 
ceffity  and  liberty.  I  can  forefee  other  objedti- 
ons,  derived  from  topics,  which  have  not  here 
been  treated  of.  It  may  be  faid,  for  inftance, 
that,  if  voluntary  aftions  be  fubjefted  to  the  fame 
laws  of  necelTity  with  the  operations  of  matter, 
there  is  a  continued  chain  of  neceffary  caufe^, 
pre-ordained  and  pre-determined,  reaching  from 
the  original  caufe  of  all,  to  every  volition  of  every 
human  creature.  No  contingency  any  where  in 
the  univerfe;  no  indifference;  no  liberty.  While 
we  adl,  v,'e  are,  at  the  fame  time,  afted  upon. 
The  ultimate  Author  of  all  our  volitions  is  the 
Creator  of  the  world,  who  firH  bellowed  mo- 
tion on  this  immenfe  machine,  and,  placed  all 
beings  in  that  particular  pofition,  whence  every 
fubfequent  event,  by  an  inevitable  neceffity, 
muft  refult.  Human  actions,  therefore,  either 
can  have  no  moral  turpitude  at  all,  as  proceed- 
ing from  fo  good  a  caufe;  or  if  they  have  any 
turpitude,  they  m.uft  involve  our  Creator  in  the 
fame  guilt,  while  he  is  acknowledged  to  be  their 
ultimate  caufe  and  author.  For  as  a  man,  who 
fired  a  mine,  is  anlwerable  for  all  the  confequen- 
ces  whether  the  train  he  employed  be  long  or 
fhort ;  fo  v/herever  a  continued  chain  of  necef- 
fary  caufes  is  fixed,  that  Being,  either  finite,   or 

infinite. 


io6         SECTION      VIII. 

infinite,   who   produces  the  firft,    is  likewife   the 
author  of  all  the   reft,    and   muft  both   bear    the 
blame  and  acquire   the  praife,    which   belong   to 
them.       Our  clear  and  unalterable  ideas  of  mo- 
rality eftablilTi  this  rule,  upon  unqueftionable  rea- 
ibns,  when  we  examine  the  confequences  of  any- 
human  adion;  and  thefe  reafons  muft   ftill   have 
greater  force,  when   applied  to  volitions   and  in- 
tentions of  a  Being,  infinitely  wife  and  powerful. 
Ignorance  or   impotence   may  be    pleaded  for  fo 
limited  a  creature  as  man;  but  thofe  imperfedi- 
ons   have  no  place  in  our  Creator.     He  forefaw, 
he  ordained,  he  intended  all  thofe  adions  of  men, 
which  we  fo  raftily  pronounce  criminal.     And   we 
muft  therefore  conclude,  either  that  they  are  not 
criminal,  or  that  the  Deity,  not  man,  is  accoun- 
table for  them.     But  as  either  of  thefe  pofitions 
is   abfurd   and   impious,   it  follows,  that  the  doc- 
trine, from  which  they  are  deduced,  cannot  pof- 
fibly  be  true,  as  being  liable  to   all   the  fame  ob- 
jedlions.      An    abfurd  confequence,    if   neceffary, 
proves  the  original  dodlrine  to  be  abfurd;  in  the 
fame    manner    as   criminal   aftions    render  crimi- 
iial  the  original   caufe,  if  the  connexion  between 
them  be  neceffary    and  inevitable. 

This  objection  confifts  of  two  parts,  which  we 
Ihall  examine  feparately;  FirJ}^  that,  if  human 
aftions  can  be  traced  up,  by  a  neceffary  chain, 
to  the  Deity,  they  can  never  be  criminal;  on  ac- 
count of  the  infinite  perfeftion  of  that  Being, 
from  whom  they  are  derived,  and  who  can  in- 
tend nothing  but  what  is  altogether  good  and 
laudable.  Or,  Secondly^  if  they  be  criminal,  we 
muft  retrafl  the  attribute  of  perfection,  which 
we  afcribe  to  the  Deity,  and  muft  acknowledge 
him  to  be  the  ultimate  author  of  n^uilt  and  moral 
turpitude  in  all  his  creatures. 

The  anfwer  to  the  firft  objedlion  feems  obvious 
and  convincing.      There   are   many   philofophers, 

who, 


of  Liberty  and  Necessity,  107 

who,  after  an  cxaft  fcrutiny  of  all  the  phaenomena 
of  nature,    conclude,  that  the  Whole,    confidered 
as  one  iyftem,  is,  in  every  period  of  its  exiftence, 
ordered   with  perfe£l   benevolence ;    and    that  the 
utmoft  polTible  happinefs  will,  in  the  end,  refult 
to  all  created  beings,  without  any  mixture  of  po- 
fitive  or  abfolute   ill  and   mifery.     Every  phyfical 
ill,  fay  they,  makes  an  efiential  part  of  this  bene- 
volent fyltem,  and  could  not  poITibly  be  removed, 
even   by  the  Deity   himfelf,  confidered  as  a  wife 
agent,  without  giving   entrance   to  greater  ill,  or 
excludino;  o;reater  g-ood,  which  will  refult  from  it. 
From   this  theory,  fome  philofophers,  and  the  an- 
cient Stoics  among  the  reft,  derived  a  topic  of  con- 
folation    under   all  afflictions,    while   they    taught 
their  pupils,  that  thofe  ills,  under  which  they  la- 
boured, were,  in  reality,  goods   to  the   univerfe; 
and  that  to  an  enlarged   view,  which  could  com- 
prehend the  whole  fyftem  of  nature,  every  event 
became   an    objedt   of  joy   and   exultation.      But 
though  this  topic  be  fpecious  and  fublime,  it  was 
foon  found  in  pra6lice  weak  and  ineffedluai.     You 
would  furely   more    irritate,  than  appeafe  a  man, 
lying  under  the   racking  pains   of  the   gout,    by 
preaching  up  to  him   the  redlitude  of  thofe  gene- 
ral laws,  which  produced  the  malignent  humours 
in   his    body,  and  led  them  through  the  proper  ca- 
nals, to  the  finews  and   nerves,    where  they  now 
excite  fuch  acute  torments.     Thefe  enlarged  views 
may,  for  a  moment,  pleafe  the  imagination  of  a 
fpeculative  man,  who  is  placed  in  eafe  andfecurity; 
but  neither  can  they  dwell  with  conftancy  on  his 
mind,  even  though  undifturbed    by  the  emotions 
of  pain  or  paflion ;  much  lefs  can  they  maintain 
their  ground,  when  attacked  by  fuch  powerful  an- 
tagonifts.     The  affedtions  take  a  narrower  and  more 
natural  furvey  of  their  obje6t;  and  by  an  oecono- 
my,    more   fuitable   to   the   infirmity    of    human 

minds. 


io8         SECTION      VIII. 

minds,  regard  alone  the  beings  around  us,  and 
are  aftuaied  by  fuch  events  as  appear  good  or  ill 
to  the  private  fyftem. 

The  cafe  is  the  fame  with  moral  as  with  -phyjical 
ill.  It  cannot  reafonably  be  fuppofed,  that  thofe 
rennote  confiderations,  which  are  found  of  fo  little 
efficacy  with  regard  to  one,  will  have  a  more 
powerful  influence  with  regard  to  the  other.  The 
mind  of  man  is  fo  formed  by  nature,  that,  upon 
the  appearance  of  certain  charafters,  difpofitions, 
and  aclions,  it  immediately  feels  the  fentiment  of 
approbation  or  blame  ;  nor  are  there  any  emotions 
more  elTential  to  its  frame  and  conftitution.  The 
chara»51:ers,  which  engage  our  approbation,  are 
chiefly  fuch  as  contribute  to  the  peace  and  fecu- 
rity  of  human  fociety ;  as  the  chara6ters,  which 
excite  blame,  are  chiefly  fuch  as  tend  to  public  de- 
triment and  difl:urbance  :  Whence  it  may  reafon- 
ably be  prefumed,  that  the  moral  fentiments  arife, 
either  mediately  or  immediately,  from  a  reflection 
on  thefe  oppofite  interefl:s.  What  though  philofo- 
phical  meditations  efl:ablifli  a  difi'erent  opinion 
or  conjecture;  that  every  thing  is  right  with  re- 
gard to  the  whole,  and  that  the  qualities,  which 
difliurb  fociety,  are,  in  the  main,  as  beneficial,  and 
are  as  fuitable  to  the  primary  intention  of  nature, 
as  thofe  which  more  diredly  promote  its  happinefs 
and  welfare  ?  Are  fuch  remote  and  uncertain  fpe- 
culations  able  to  counterbalance  the  fentiments, 
which  arife  from  the  natural  and  immediate  view  of 
the  objects  ?  A  man  who  is  robbed  of  a  confi- 
derable  fum;  does  he  find  his  vexation  for  the 
lofs  any  wife  diminiflied  by  thefe  fublime  reflecti- 
ons ?  Why  then  fliould  his  moral  refentment  againfl: 
the  crime  be  fuppofed  incompatible  with  them? 
Or  why  fliould  not  the  acknowledgment  of  a  real 
difl.in(5tion  between  vice  and  virtue  be  reconcile- 
able  to  all  fpeculative  fvfl:cms  of  philofophy,  as 
well  as  that  of  a  real  difdnclion  between  perfonal 

beauty 


or  Liberty  and  Necessity.  to^ 

beauty  and  deformity  ?  Both  thefe  diftincflions  are 
founded  in  the  natural  fentiments  of  the  humani 
mind  :  And  thefc  fentiments  are  not  to  be  con- 
trouled  or  altered  by  any  philofophical  theory  or 
fpeculation   whatfoever. 

Whe  Jecond  objeflion  admits  not  of  fo  eafy  and 
fatisfacftory  an  anfwcr ;  nor  is  it  pofTible  to  explain 
diftindtly,  how  the  Deity  can  be  the  mediate  caufe 
of  all  the  adions  of  men,  without  being  the  au- 
thor of  fin  and  moral  turpitude.  Thefe  are  myile- 
ries,  which  mere  natural  and  unafTifted  reafon  is 
very  unfit  to  handle ;  and  whatever  fyftem  flie 
embraces,  fhe  mull  find  herfelf  involved  in  inex- 
tricable difficulties,  and  even  contradiflions,  at 
every  llep  which  fhe  takes  with  regard  to  fuch 
fubje6ls.  To  reconcile  the  indifi^erence  and  con- 
tingency of  human  actions  with  prefcience ;  or  to 
defend  abfolute  decrees,  and  yet  free  the  Deity 
from  being  the  author  of  fin,  has  been  found  hi- 
therto to  exceed  all  the  power  of  philofophy.  Hap- 
py, if  Ihe  be  thence  fenfible  of  her  temerity,  when 
fhe  pries  into  thefe  fublime  mylteries;  and  leaving 
a  fcene  fo  full  of  obfcurities  and  perplexities,  re- 
turn, with  fuitable  modeily,  to  her  true  and  pro- 
per province,  the  examination  of  common  life; 
where  fiie  will  find  difficulties  enow  to  employ  her 
enquiries,  without  launching  into  fo  boundlefs  aa 
©cean  of  doubt,  uncertainty,  and  contradiction  ! 


SECTION 


(  >II  ) 


"l*— 


S     E     C     T     I     O     N     IX. 


Of  the  Reason  of  Animals. 


jr\LL  our  reafonings  concerning  matter  of  faiSt 
are  founded  on  a  fpecies  of  Analogy,  which  leads 
us  to  expeft  from  any  caufe  the  fame  events,  which 
we  have  obferved  to  refult  from  fimilar  caufes. 
Where  the  caufes  are  entirely  fimilar,  the  analogy 
is  perfect,  and  the  inference,  drawn  from  it,  is  re- 
garded as  certain  and  conclufive :  Nor  does  any 
man  ever  entertain  a  doubt,  where  he  fees  a  piece 
of  iron,  that  it  will  have  weight  and  cohefion  of 
parrs  -,  as  in  all  other  inflances,  which  have  ever 
fallen  under  his  obfervation.  But  where  the  ob- 
je6ls  have  not  fo  exa£t  a  fimilarity,  the  analogy  is 
jefs  perfect,  and  the  inference  is  lefs  conclufive; 
though  ftill  it  has  fome  force,  in  proportion  to  the 
degree  of  fimilarity  and  refemblance.  The  anato- 
mical obfervations,  formed  upon  one  animal,  are, 
by  this  fpecies  of  reafoning,  extended  to  all  ani- 
mals ;  and  it  is  certain,  that  when  the  circulation 
of  the  blood,  for  inftance,  is  clearly  proved  to 
have  place  in  one  creature,  as  a  frog,  or  fifh,  it 
forms  a  ftrong  prefumption,  that  the  fame  prin- 
ciple has  place  in  all.  Thefe  analogical  obferva- 
tions may  be  carried  farther,  even  to  this  fcience, 

of 


ill  SECTION      IX. 

of  which  we  are  now  treating  ;  and  any  theory,  by 
which  we  explain  the  operations  of  the  underftand- 
ing,  or  the  origin  and  connexion  of  the  paflions  in 
man,  will  acquire  additional  authority,  if  we  find, 
that  the  fame  theory  is  requifite  to  explain  the  fame 
phenomena  in  all  other  animals.  We  fhall  make 
trial  of  this,  with  regard  to  the  hypothefis,  by 
which,  we  have,  in  the  foregoing  difcourfe,  en- 
deavoured to  account  for  all  experimental  reafon- 
ings ;  and  it  is  hoped,  that  this  new  point  of  view 
will  ferve  to  confirm  all  our  fonner  obferva- 
tions. 

Firfiy  It  feems  evident,  that  animals,  as  well  as 
men  learn  many  things  from  experience,  and  infer, 
that  the  fame  events  will  alv/ays  follow  from  the 
fame  caufes.  By  this  principle  they  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  more  obvious  properties  of  ex- 
ternal objeds,  and  gradually,  from  their  birth, 
treafure  up  a  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  fire,  wa- 
ter, eanh,  flones,  heights,  depths,  ^c,  and  of  the 
effedls,  which  refult  from  their  operation.  The 
ignorance  and  inexperience  of  the  young  are  here 
plainly  diftinguilliable  from  the  cunning  and  fa- 
gacity  of  the  old,  who  have  learned,  by  long  ob- 
fervation,  to  avoid  what  hurt  them,  and  to  purfue 
what  gave  eafc  or  pleafure.  A  horfe,  that  has 
been  accuftomed  to  the  field,  becomes  acquainted 
with  the  proper  height,  which  he  can  leap,  and 
will  never  attempt  what  exceeds  his  force  and 
ability.  An  old  greyhound  will  truft  the  more 
fatiguing  part  of  the  chace  to  the  younger,  and 
will  place  himfeif  lb  as  to  meet  the  hare  in  her 
doubles  i  nor  are  the  conjectures,  which  he  forms 
on  this  occafion,  founded  in  any  thing  but  his  ob- 
fervation  and  experience. 

This  is  ftill  more  evident  from  the  effeds  of  dif- 

cipline   and  education    on    animals,    who,   by   the 

proper  application  of  rewards  and  puniHiments,  may 

3  be 


of  the  Reason  of  Animals.  115 

be  taught  any  courfe  of  a£lion,  the  mod  contrary 
to  their  natural  inftinfts  and  propenfities.  Is  it  not 
experience,  which  renders  a  dog  apprehenfive  of 
pain,  when  you  menace  him,  or  lift  up  the  whip  to 
beat  him  ?  Is  it  not  even  experience^  which  makes 
him  anfwer  to  his  name,  and  infer,  from  fuch  an 
arbitrary  found,  that  you  mean  him  rather  than  any 
of  his  fellows,  and  intend  to  call  him,  when 
you  pronounce  it  in  a  certain  manner,  and  with  a 
certain  tone  and  accent? 

In  all  thefe  cafes,  we  may  obferve,  that  the  ani- 
mal infers  fome  fa6l  beyond  what  immediately 
ftrikes  his  fenfes:  and  that  this  inference  is  alto- 
gether founded  on  pail  experience,  while  the  crea- 
ture expects  from  the  prefent  objecfl  the  fame  con- 
fequences,  which  it  has  always  found  in  its  obfer- 
vation  to  refult  from  fimilar  obje6ts. 

Secondly^  It  is  impoflible,  that  this  inference  of 
the  animal  can  be  founded  on  any  procefs  of  ar- 
gument or  reafoning,  -by  which  he  concludes,  that 
like  events  muft  follow  like  objeds,  and  that  the 
courfe  of  nature  will  always  be  regular  in  its  ope- 
rations. For  ifthere.be  in  reality  any  arguments 
of  this  nature,  they  furely  lie  too  abftrufe  for 
the  obfervation  of  fuch  imperfect  underftandings  \ 
jfince  it  may  well  employ  the  utmoft  care  and  at- 
tention of  a  philofophic  genius  to  difcover  and 
obferve  them.  Animals,  therefore,  are  not  guided 
in  thefe  inferences  by  reafoning :  Neither  are  chil- 
dren :  Neither  are  the  generality  of  mankind,  in 
their  ordinary  a6tions  and  conclufions :  Neither 
are  philofophers  themfelves,  v/ho,  in  all  the  ac- 
tive parts  of  life,  are,  in  the  main,  the  fame  with 
the  vulgar,  and  are  governed  by  the  fame  max- 
ims. Nature  mufl  have  provided  fome  other  prin- 
ciple, of  more  ready,  and  more  general  ufe  and 
application ;  nor  can  an  operation  of  fuch  im- 
menfe  confequence  in  life,  as  that  of  inferring  ef- 

YoL.  II.  I  fedj 


it4        SECTION    rx!. 

fefts  from  caufes,  be  trjfted  to  the  uncertain  prd- 
Gefs  of  reafoning  and  argumentation.  Were  this 
doubtful  with  regard  to  men,  it  feems  to  admit 
of  no  queltion  with  regard  to  the  brute  cfeatiort'; 
and  the  conclufion  being  once  firmly  eftablifhed 
in  the  one,  we  have  a  rtron;g  prefumption,  from 
all  the  rules  of  analogy,  that  it  ought  to  be  uni- 
verfally  admitted^  without  any  exception  or  re- 
ferve.  It  is  cuftom  alone,  which  engages  animals, 
from  every  objedt,  that  ftrikes  their  fenfes,  to  m- 
fer  its  ufual  attendant,  and  carries  their  imagina- 
tion, from  the  appearance  of  the  one,  to  conceive 
the  other,  in  that  particular  manner,  ^vhich  we  de- 
nominate i"^//^.  No- other  explication  can  be  gi- 
ven of  this  operation,  in  all  the  higher,  as  well  as 
lower  claffes  of  feafitive  beings,  which  fall  under 
our  notice  and  obfervation  *. 

But  though  anitnals  learn  many  parts  of  their 
knowledge  from  obfervation,  there  are  alfo  mar.y 
parts  of  it,'  which  they  derive  from  the  original 
hand  of  nature ;  which  much  exceed  the  fliare  of 
capacity  they  poffefs  on  ordinary  occafions;  and 
in  which  they  improve,  littl-e  or  nothing,  by  the 
longeft  practice  and  experience.  Thefe  we  deno- 
minate Inftinfts,  and  are  lb  apt  to  admire,  as  fome- 
thing  very  extraordinary,  and  inexplicable  by  ali 
the  difquifitions  of  human  underltanding.  But  our 
wonder  v/ill,  perhaps,  ceafe  or  diminifli ;  when  we 
confider,  that  the  experimental  rcafon-ing  itfelf, 
which  we  poffefs  ia  common  with  beafts,  and  on 
which  the  whole  conduftof  iife  depends,  is  nothing 
but  a  fpecies  of  inllincl  or  mechanical  power,  that 
afts  in  us  unknown  to-  ourJelves ;  and  in  its  chief 
operations,  is  not  directed  by  any  fuch  relations  or 
comparifons  of  ideas,  as  are  the  proper  oi^jecfts  of 
bur  intellectual  faculties.     Though  the  infiinct  be 

different, 

*  See  NOTE   [H]. 


Of  the  kEASoN  of  Animals.  115 

different,  yet  flill  it  is  an  inilinct,  which  teaches 
a  man  to  avoid  the  fire ;  as  much  as  that,  vhich 
teaches  a  bird,  with  fuch  exactnefs,  the  art  of  incu- 
bation, and  the  whole  oeconomy  and  order  of  its 
nurfery. 


1  2 


1 


(     "7     ) 


SECTION      X. 

Of  Miracles. 


PART      I. 


T 


HERE  is,  in  Dr.  Tillotfon's  writings,  an 
argument  againft  the  real  prejence^  which  is  as 
concife,  and  elegant,  and  frrong  as  any  argument 
can  poflibly  be  fuppofed  againft  a  doctrine,  fo 
little  worthy  of  a  ferious  refutation.  It  is  ac- 
knowledged on  all  hands,  fays  the  learned  prelate, 
that  the  authority,  either  of  the  fcripture  or  of  tra- 
dition, is  founded  merely  in  the  teftimony  of  the 
apoftles,  who  were  eye-witneffes  to  thofe  miracles 
of  our  Saviour,  by  which  he  proved  his  divine  mif- 
fion.  Our  evidence,  then,  for  the  truth  of  the 
Chrijlian  religion  is  lefs  than  the  evidence  for  the 
truth  of  our  fenfes ;  becaufe,  even  in  the  firft 
authors  of  our  religion,  it  was  no  greater ;  and  it 
is  evident  it  muft  diminifh  in  pafling  from  them 
to  their  difciples ;  nor  can  any  one  reft  fuch  confi- 
dence in  their  teftimony,  as  in  the  immediate  ob- 
ject of  his  fenfes.  But  a  weaker  evidence  can  ne- 
ver deftroy  a  ftronger;  and  therefore,  were  the 
doctrine  of  the  real  prefence  ever  fo  clearly  re- 
vealed in  fcripture,  it  were  directly  contrary  to 
the  rules  of  juft  reafoning  to  give  our  afient  to 
it.  It  contradidls  fenfe,  though  both  the  fcrip- 
ture 


ii8  S   E    C    T    I    O    N     X. 

ture  and  tradition,  on  which  it  is  fuppofed  to 
be  built,  carry  not  fuch  evidence  wirh  them  as 
fenfe;  when  they  are  confidered  merely  as  ex- 
ternal evidences,  and  are  not  brought  home  to 
every  one's  breaft,  by  the  immediate  operation  of 
the  Holy  Spirit. 

Nothing  is  fo  convenient  as  a  decifive  argument 
of  this  kind,  which  mull  at  \e^{\:/iience  the  moll  ar- 
rogant bigotry  and  fuperflition,  and  free  us  from 
their  impertinent  folicitations.  I  flatter  myfelf,  that 
I  have  difcovered  an  argument  of  a  like  nature, 
which,  if  jud,  will,  with  the  wife  and  learned,  be 
an  everlalling  check  to  all  kinds  of  fuperftitious  delu- 
fion,  and  confequently,  v/ill  be  ufeful  as  long  as  the 
world  endures.  For  fo  long,  I  prefume,  will  the 
accounts  of  miracles  and  prodigies  be  found  in  all 
hiltory,  facred  and  profane. 

Though  experience  be  our  only  guide  in  reafon- 
ing  concerning  matters  of  fa£l  ^  it  mull  be  acknow- 
ledged, that  this  guide  is  not  altogether  infallible, 
but  in  fome  cafes  is  apt  to  lead  us  into  errors.  One, 
who  in  our  climate,  fhould  expeft  better  weather 
in  any  week  of  June  than  in  one  of  December, 
would  reafonjuftly,  and  conformably  to  experience  j 
but  it  is  certain,  that  he  may  happen,  in  the  event, 
to  find  himfelf  miftaken.  However,  we  may  ob- 
ferve,  that,  in  fuch  a  cafe,  he  would  have  no  caufe 
to  complain  of  experience;  becaufe  it  commonly 
informs  us  beforehand  of  the  uncertainty,  by  that 
contrariety  of  events,  which  we  may  learn  from  a 
diligent  obfervation.  All  effefls  follow  not  with 
like  certainty  from  their  fuppofed  caufes.  Some 
events  are  found,  in  all  countries  and  all  ages,  to 
have  been  conilantly  conjoined  together :  Others 
are  found  to  have  been  more  variable,  and  fome- 
times  to  difappoint  our  expedlations ;  fo  that,  in 
our  reafonings  concerning  matter  of  fadl,  there 
are  all  imaginable  degrees  of  aflTurance,  from  the 

hiofhcfw 


Of     M   I   R   A   C  L   E   S.  1'j9 

liighefl:  certainty  to  the  lowed  fpecies  of  moral 
jevidence. 

A  wife  min,  therefore,  proportions  his  belief  to 
the  evidence.  In  fuch  conclufions  as  are  founded 
on  an  infallible  experience,  he  expefts  the  event 
with  the  lad:  degree  of  aflurance,  and  regards  his 
pall  experience  as  a  fuW  proof  of^  the  future  exiltence 
of  that  event.  In  other  cafes,  he  proceeds  with 
more  caution  :  He  weighs  the  oppofite  experiments  : 
He  confiders  which  fide  is  fupported  by  the  greater 
number  of  experiments :  To  that  fide  he  inclines, 
with  doubt  and  hefitation  j  and  when  at  laft  he  fixes 
his  judgment,  the  evidence  exceeds  not  what  we 
properly  call  probability.  All  probability,  then, 
fuppofes  an  oppofition  of  experiments  and  obferva- 
tions,  where  the  one  fide  is  found  to  overbalance 
the  other,  and  to  produce  a  degree  of  evidence, 
proportioned  to  the  fuperiority.  A  hundred  in- 
ftances  or  experiments  on  one  fide,  and  fifty  on  ano- 
ther, afford  a  doubtful  expeftation  of  any  event ; 
though  ^n  hundred  uniform  experiments,  with  only 
one  that  is  contradiftory,  reafonably  beget  a  pretty 
ftrong  degree  of  afllirance.  In  all  cafes,  we  muft 
balance  the  oppofite  experiments,  where  they  are 
oppofite,  and  dedu6l  the  finaller  number  from  the 
greater,  in  order  to  know  the  exa6t  force  of  the  fu- 
pcrior  evidence. 

To  apply  thefe  principles  to  a  particular  inflance: 
we  may  obferve,  that  there  is  no  fpecies  of  realbn- 
ing  more  common,  more  ufeful,  and  even  necelTa- 
ry  to  human  life,  than  that  which  is  derived  from 
the  teftimony  of  men,  and  the  reports  of  eye-wit- 
nefles  and  fpeftators.  This  fpecies  of  reafoning, 
perhaps,  one  may  deny  to  be  founded  on  the  rela- 
tion of  caufe  and  efi^ect.  I  fhall  no!  difpute  about  a 
word.  It  will  be  fufficient  to  obferve,  that  our  af- 
furance  in  any  argument  of  this  kind  is  derived 
from  no  other  principle  than  our  obfervation  of 
.the  veracity  of  human  teflimony,  and  of  the  ufual 

conformity 


lao  S    E    C    T   I    O   N     X. 

conformity  of  facts  to  the  reports  of  wltnefTe?. 
It  being  a  general  maxim,  that  no  objects  have- 
any  difcoverable  connexion  together,  and  that  all 
the  inferences,:  which  we  can  draw  from  one  to 
another,  are  founded  merely  on  our  experience 
of  their  conftant  and  regular  conjunction,  it  is 
evident,  that  we  ought  not  to  make  an  excep- 
rion  to  this  maxim  in  favour  of  human  teflimony, 
whofe  connexion  with  any  event  feems,  in  itfelf, 
as  little  neceffary  as  any  other.  Were  not  the 
memory  tenacious  to  a  certain  degree ;  had  not  men 
commonly  an  inclination  to  truth  and  a  princi- 
ple of  probity;  were  they  not  fenfible  to  fhame,. 
when  detected  in  a  falfehood  :  Were  not  thefe,  f 
fay,  difcovered  by  experience  to  be  qualities,  inhe- 
rent in  human  nature,  we  ihould  never  repofe  the 
lead  confidence  in  human  teftimony.  A  man  de- 
lirious, or  noted  for  falfehood  and  villany,  has  no 
manner  of  authority  with  us. 

And  as  the  evidence,  derived  from>  witnefl^s 
and  human  teftimony,  is  founded  on  paft  experi- 
ence, fo  it  varies  with  the  experience,  and  is  re- 
garded either  as  a  p-oof  or  a  probahility,  according 
as  the  conjunction  between  any  particular  kind 
of  report  and  any  kind  of  object  has  been  found  ta 
be  conftant  or  variable.  There  are  a  number  of 
circumftances  to  be  taken  into  confideration  in 
all  judgments  of  this  kind;  and  the  ultimate 
ftandard,  by  which  we  determine  all  difputes,  that 
may  arife  concerning  them,  is  always  derived  from 
experience  and  obfervation.  Where  this  experi- 
ence is  not  entirely  uniform  on  any  fide,  it  is  at- 
tended with  an  unavoidable  contrariety  in  oOr 
judgments,  and  with  the  fame  oppofition  and  mu- 
tual deftruflion  of  argument  as  in  every  other 
kind  of  evidence.  \\  e  frequently  hefitate  con- 
cerning the  reports  of  others.  We  balance  the 
oppofite  circumftances,  which  caufe  any  doubt  or 
uncertainty ;    and  when  we   difcover  a  fuperiority 

on 


of    M  I  R  A  G  L  £  S.  121 

on  any  fide,  we  incline  to  it ;  but  ftill  with  1  dimi- 
nution of  afiurance,  in  proportion  to  the  force  of 
its   antagonift. 

This  contrariety  of  evidence,  in  the  prefent  cafe, 
may  be  derived  from  feveral  different  caufes  j  from 
the  oppofition  of  contrary  teftimony ;  from  the 
characfter  or  number  of  the  witneflesj  from  the 
manner  of  their  delivering  their  teftimony  j  or  from 
the  union  of  all  thefe  circumftances.  We  en- 
tertain a  fufpicion  concerning  any  matter  of  fact, 
when  the  witneflfes  contradid  each  other;  when 
they  are  but  few,  or  of  a  doubtful  charafter; 
when  they  have  an  intereft  in  what  they  affirm; 
when  they  delfver  their  teftimony  with  hefitation, 
or  on  the  contrary,  with  too  violent  afleverations. 
There  are  many  other  particulars  of  the  fame  kind, 
which  may  diminifh  or  deftroy  the  force  of  any 
argument,  derived  from  human  teftimony. 

Suppofe,  for  inftance,  that  the  fadl,  which  the 
teftimony  endeavours  to  eftablifh,  partakes  of  the 
extraordinary  and  the  marvellous;  in  that  cafe,  the 
evidence,  refulting  from  the  teftimony,  admits  Cf 
a  diminution,  greater  or  lefs,  in  proportion  as 
the  fadb  is  more  or  lefs  unufual.  The  reafon, 
why  we  place  any  credit,  in  witneftes  and  hiftori- 
ans,  is  not  derived  from  any  connexion,  which  we 
perceive  a  priori,  between  teftimony  and  reality, 
but  becaufe  we  are  accuftomed  to  find  a  con- 
formity between  them.  But  when  the  faft  at- 
tefted  is  fuch  a  one  as  has  feldom  fallen  under 
our  obfervation,  here  is  a  conteft  of  two  oppofite 
experiences;  of  which  the  one  deftroys  the  other, 
as  far  as  its  force  goes,  and  the  fuperior  can  only 
operate  on  the  mind  by  the  force,  which  remains. 
The  very  fame  principle  of  experience,  which 
gives  us  a  certain  degree  of  afTurance  in  the  tefti- 
mony of  witnefTes,  gives  us  alfo,  in  this  cafe,  ano- 
ther  degree  of   aflurance  againft  the  faft,  which 

they 


122 


E    C    T    I    O    N     X. 


they  endeavour  to  eftablifli ;  from  which  con"* 
tradiction  there  necefiarily  arifes  a  counterpoize, 
and  mutual  deftruction  of  belief  and  autho- 
rity. 

/  Jhould  not  believe  Juch  a  fiory  were  it  told  me 
hy  Catoj  was  a  proverbial  faying  in  Rome,  even 
during  the  life-time  of  that  philofophical  pa- 
triot *,  The  incredibility  of  a  fact,  it  was  allov/- 
edj  might  invalidate  fo   great  an  authority. 

The  Indian  prince,  who  refufcd  to  believe  the 
firft  relations  concerning  the  effects  of  froft,  rea- 
foned  juflly;  and  it  naturally  required  very  llrong 
teiiimony  to  engage  his  affent  to  facts,  that  arofe 
from  a  ftate  of  nature,  with  which  he  was  unac- 
quainted, and  which  bore  fo  little  analogy  to  thofe 
events,  of  which  he  had  had  conftant  and  uni- 
form experience.  Though  they  were  not  con- 
trary to  his  experience,  they  were  not  conform- 
able to  it  j-. 

But  in  order  to  encreafe  the  probability  againft 
the  teftimpny  of  witnefles,  let  us  fuppofe,  that 
the  fact,  which  they  affirm,  indead  of  being 
only  marvellous,  is  really  miraculous;  and  fup- 
pofe alfo,  that  the  teftimony, ,  confidered  apart 
and  in  itfelf,  amounts  to  an  entire  proof;  in  that 
cafe,  there  is  proof  againft  proof,  of  which  the 
ftrongeft  mull  prevail,  but  ftill  with  a  dimi- 
nution of  its  force,  in  proportion  to  that  of  its 
antagonift. 

A  miracle  is  a  violation  of  the  \z,\\%  of  nature ; 
and  as  a  firm  and  unalterable  experience  has  efta- 
blilhed  thefe  laws,  the  proof  againf!:  a  miracle, 
from  the  very  natyre  of  thje  fact,  is  as  entire  as 
any  argument  from  experience  can  poffibly  be  ima- 
gined. Why  is  it  more  than  probable,  that  all  men 
mull  die;  that  lead  cannot,  of  ulelf,  remain  fuf- 

pended 

*  Plutarch,  in  vita  Catonis. 
t  Sec    NOTE    [I], 


Of    M  I  R   A  C  L  E  S.  123 

pended  in  the  air;  that  fire  confumes  wood,  and 
is  extinguifhed  by  water  j  unlefs  it  be,  that  thefe 
events  are  found  agreeable  to  the  lavv's  of  na- 
ture, and  there  is  required  a  violation  of  thefe 
laws,  or  in  other  words,  a  miracle  to  prevent 
them  ?  Nothing  is  efteemed  a  miracle,  if  it  ever 
happen  in  the  common  courfe  of  nature.  It  is 
no  miracle  that  a  man,  feemingly  in  good  health, 
fhould  die  on  a  fudden :  becaufe  fuch  a  kind  of 
death,  though  more  unufual  than  any  other,  has 
yet  been  frequently  obferved  to  happen.  But  it 
is  a  miracle,  that  a  dead  man  fhould  come  to 
life ;  becaufp  that  has  never  been  obferved,  in 
any  age  or  country.  There  muft,  therefore,  be 
an  uniforrn  experience  againft  every  miraculous 
event,  otherwife  the  event  would  not  merit  that 
appellation.  And  as  an  uniform  experience  a- 
mounts  to  a  proof,  there  i§  here  a  direct  and  full 
froof^  from  the  nature  of  the  fadt,  againft  the  ex- 
iftence  of  any  miracle  ;  nor  can  fuch  a  proof  be 
deflroyed,  or  the  miracle  rendered  credible,  but  by 
an  oppofite  proof,  which  is  fuperior  *. 

The  plain  confequence  is  (and  it  is  a  general 
maxim  of  our  attention),  "  That  no  teftimony  is 
"  fufficient  to  eftablifli  a  miracle,  unlefs  the  tti- 
"  timony  be  of  fuch  a  kind,  that  its  falfehood 
"  would  be  more  miraculous,  than  the  fa6V,  which 
"  it  endeavours  to  eftablifh:  And  even  in  that 
*^  cafe  there;  s  a  mutual  deltruftion  of  arguments, 
"  and  the  fuperior  only  gives  us  an  aflurance 
*^  fuitable  to  that  degree  of  force,  which  re- 
*'  mains,  after  deducing  the  inferior."  When  any 
one  tells  me,  that  he  faw  a  dead  man  reftored  to 
life,  I  immediately  confider  with  myfelf,  whether 
it  be  more  probable,  that  this  perfon  fhould  ei- 
ther deceive  or  be  deceived,  or  that  the  fadt, 
which    he    relates,    fliould  really   have  happened. 

T  weigh 

•  See  NOTE  [K]. 


114  S    £    C    T     i    O    N      X. 

I  weigh  the  one  miracle  againft  the  other;  and 
according  to  the  fuperiority,  which  I  difcover,  I 
pronounce  my  decifion,  and  always  reject  the 
greater  miracle.  If  the  falfehood  of  his  teftimony 
world  be  more  miraculous,  than  the  event  which 
he  relates;  then,  and  not  till  then,  can  he  pre- 
tend to  command  my  belief  or  opinion. 

P    A    R    T      II. 

In  the  foregoing  reafoning  we  have  fuppofed, 
that  the  teftimony,  upon  which  a  miracle  is  found- 
ed, may  pofTibly  amount  to  an  entire  proof,  and 
that  the  falfehood  of  that  teftimony  would  be  a 
real  prodigy  :  But  it  is  eafy  to  ftiew,  that  we  have 
been  a  great  deal  too  liberal  in  our  conceftion, 
and  that  there  never  was  a  miraculous  event  ef- 
tabJiftied  on  fo  full  an  evidence. 

For/r/?,  there  is  not  to  be  found,  in  all  hiftor)^, 
any  miracle  attefted  by  a  fufficient  number  of  men, 
of  fuch  unqueftioned  good-fenfe,  education,  and 
learning,  as  to  fecure  us  againft  all  delufion  in 
themfelves ;  of  fuch  undoubted  integrity,  as  to 
place  them  beyond  all  fufpicion  of  any  defign 
to  deceive  others ;  of  fuch  credit  and  reputati- 
on in  the  eyes  of  mankind,  as  to  have  a  great 
deal  to  lofe  in  cafe  of  their  being  detected  in  any 
falfehood  ;  and  at  tl\e  fame  time,  attefting  facts, 
performed  in  fuch  a  public  manner,  and  in  fo  ce- 
lebrated a  part  of  the  v/orld,  as  to  render  the  de- 
tedion  unavoidable  :  All  which  circumftances  are 
requifite  to  give  us  a  full  aflurance  in  the  teftimo- 
ny of  men. 

Secondly.  We  may  obfcrve  In  human  nature  a 
principle,  which,  if  ftpdly  examined,  will  be 
found  to  diminifli  extremely  the  afiurancc,  Vvhich 
we  might,  from  human  teftimony,  have,  in  any 
kind  of  prodigy.  The  maxim,  by  which  v/e  com- 
monly conduct  curfclves  in  oor  realonings,  is, 
3  that 


Of  Miracles,  125 

that  the  objects,  of  which  we  have  no  experience, 
refemble  thofe,  of  which  we  have ;  that  what  we 
■have  found  to  be  mod  ufual  is  always  molt  pro- 
bable ;  and  that  where  there  is  an  oppofition  of  ar- 
guments, we  ought  to  give  the  preference  to  fuch 
as  are  founded  on  the  greateft  number  of  paft  ob- 
fervations.  But  though,  in  proceeding  by  this 
rule,  we  readily  reje<5t  any  fa6t  which  is  unufual 
and  incredible  in  an  ordinary  degree ;  yet  in  ad- 
vancing farther,  the  mind  obferves  not  always  the 
fame  rule ;  but  when  any  thing  is  afKrmed  utterly 
abfurd  and  miraculous,  it  rather  the  more  readily 
admits  of  fuch  a  fact,  upon  account  of  that  very 
circumflance,  which  ought  to  deftroy  all  its  autho- 
rity. The  paffion  oi  Jurprize  and  wonder^  arifing 
from  miracles,  being  an  agreeable  emotion,  gives 
a  fenfible  tendency  towards  the  belief  of  thofe 
events,  from  which  it  is  derived.  And  this  goes 
fo  far,  that  even  thofe  who  cannot  enjoy  this  plea- 
fure  immediately,  nor  can  believe  thofe  miraculous 
events,  of  which  they  are  informed,  yet  love  to 
partake  of  the  fatisfaction  at  fecond-hand  or  by  re- 
bound, and  place  a  pride  and  delight  in  exciting 
die  admiration  of  others. 

With  what  greedinefs  are  the  miraculous  ac- 
counts of  travellers  received,  their  defcriptions  of 
fea  and  land  monfters,  their  relations  of  wonder- 
ful adventures,  ilrange  men,  and  uncouth  man- 
ners? But  if  the  fpirit  of  religion  join  itfclf  to  the 
love  of  wonder,  there  is  an  end  of  common  fenfe  j 
and  human  teftimony,  in  thefe  circumftances, 
lofes  all  pretenfions  to  authority.  A  religionift 
may  be  an  enthufiaft,  and  imagine  he  fees  what 
has  no  reality :  He  may  know  his  narrative  to  be 
falfe,  and  yet  perfevere  in  it,  with  the  beft  intenti- 
ons in  the  world,  for  the  fake  of  prom.oting  fo 
holy  a  caufe  :  Or  even  where  this  delufion  has  not 
place,  vanity,  excited  by  fo  ftrong  a  temptation, 
operates   on  him    more  powerfully    than    on   the 

reft 


iz6        $    E    C    T    I    O    N     X. 

reft  of  mankind  in  any  other  circumftances;  arid 
felf-intcreft  with  equal  force.  His  auditors  may 
not  have,  and  commonly  have  not,  fufficient 
judgment  to  canvafs  his  evidence:  What  judg- 
ment they  have,  they  renounce  by  principle,  in 
thefe  fublime  and  myfterious  fubjedts :  Or  if  they 
were  ever  fo  willing  to  employ  it,  paffion  and  a 
heated  imagination  difturb  the  regularity  of  its  . 
operations.  Their  credulity  encreafes  his  impu- 
dence :  And  his  impudence  overpowers  their 
credulity. 

Eloquence,  when  at  its  higheft  pitch,  leaves 
little  room  for  reafon  or  refledtion ;  but  addrefT- 
ing  Itfeif  entirely  to  the  fancy  or  afFeflions,  cap- 
tivates the  willing  hearers,  and  fubdues  their  un- 
derftanding.  Happily,  this  pitch  it  feldom  at- 
tains. But  what  a  Tully  or  a  Demofthenes  could 
ibarcely  effedl  over  a  Roman  or  Athenian  audience, 
every  Capuchin,  every  itinerant  or  ftationary  teacher 
can  perform  over  the  generality  of  mankind,  and 
in  a  hi-gher  degree,, by  touching  fuch  grofs  and 
vulgar  paffions. 

The  many  inftances  of  forged  miracles,  and  pro- 
phecies, and  fupernatural  events,  which,  in  all 
ages,  have  either  been  dete6ted  by  contrary  evi- 
dence, or  which  deteft  themfelves'by  their  abfur- 
dity,  prove  fufficiently  the  ftrong  propenfity  of 
mankind  to  the  extraordinary  and  the  marvellous, 
and  ought  reafonably  to  beget  a  fufpicion  againft 
all  relations  of  this  kind.  This  is  our  natural 
way  of  thinking,  even  with  regard  to  the  moft 
common  and  moft  credible  events.  For  inftance : 
There  is  no  kind  of  report,  which  rifes  fo  eafily, 
and  fpreads  fo  quickly,  efpecially  in  country  places 
and  provincial  towns,  as  thofe  concerning  mar- 
riages; infomuch  that  two  young  perfons  of  equal 
condition  never  fee  each  other  twice,  but  the  whole 
neighbourhood  immediately  join  them  together. 
The  pleafure  of  telling  a  piece  of  news  fo  intereft- 

ing. 


Of    Ml  R  A  C  L  ES.  liy 

Ing,  of  propagating  it,  and  of  being  the  firft  re- 
porters of  it,  fpreads  the  intelligence.  And  this 
is  fo  well  known,  that  no  man  of  fenfe  gives  at- 
tention to  thefe  reports,  till  he  find  theni  con- 
firmed by  fome  greater  evidence.  Do  not  the 
fame  palTions,  and  others  ftill  ftronger,  incline 
the  generality  of  mankind  to  believe  and  report, 
with  the  greateft  vehemence  and  alTurance,  all 
religious  miracles  ? 

Thirdly.  It  forms  a  ftrong  prefumption  againft 
all  fupernatural  and  miraculous  relations,  that  they 
arc  obferved  chiefly  to  abound  among  ignorant 
and  barbarous  nations;  or  if  a  civilized  people 
has  ever  given  admiflion  to  any  of  them,  that 
people  will  be  found  to  have  received  them  from 
ignorant  and  barbarous  anceftors,  who  tranf- 
mitted  them  with  that  inviolable  fan6tion  and 
authority,  which  always  attend  received  opinions. 
When  we  perufe  the  firft  hiftories  of  all  nations, 
■we  are  apt  to  imagine  ourfelves  tranfported  in- 
to fome  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  prefent.  Battles,  revolutions,  pelti- 
lencej  famine,  and  death,  are  never  the  efTedl  of 
thofe  natural  caufes,  which  we  experience.  Pro- 
digies, omens,  oracles,  judgments,  quite  obfcure 
the  few  natural  events,  that  are  intermingled  with 
them.  But  as  the  former  grow  thinner  every 
page,  in  proportion  as  we  advance  nearer  the 
enlightened  ages,  we  foon  learn,  that  there  is  no- 
thing myfterious  or  fupernatural  in  the  cafe, 
but  that  all  proceeds  from  the  ufual  propenfity 
of  mankind  towards  the  marvellous,  and  that, 
though  this  inclination  may  at  intervals  receive  a 
check  from  fenfe  and  learnino-  it  can  never  be 
thoroughly  extirpated  from  human  nature. 

It  is  Jirange,  a  judicious    reader    is    apt   to  fay, 
upon  the  perufal  of  thefe  wonderful  hiftorians,  that 

Jucb 


128  S    E    C    T    I    O    N      X, 

Juch  prodigious  events  never  happen  in  our  days.  But 
it  is  nothing  flrange,  I  hope,  that  men  fliould 
lie  in  all  ages.  You  mull  furely  have  feen  in- 
llances  enow  of  that  frailty.  You  have  yourfelf 
heard  many  luch  marvellous  relations  flatted, 
which^  being  treated  with  fcorn  by  all  the  wife 
and  judicious,  have  at  lad  been  abandoned  even 
by  the  vulgar.  Be  aflured,  that  thofe  renowned 
lies,  which  have  fpread  and  fiourifhed  to  fuch  g, 
monflrous  height,  arofe  from  like  beginnings; 
but  being  fown  in  a  more  proper  foil,  lliot  up  at 
iall  into  prodigies  almoft  equal  to  thofe  which 
they   relate. 

It  v/as  a  wife  policy  in  that  falfe  prophet,  Alex- 
ander, who,  though  now  forgotten,  was  once 
fo  famous,  to  lay  the  firfl  fcene  of  his  impoftures 
in  Paphlagonia,  where,  as  Lucian  tells  us,  the 
pe;ople  were  extremely  ignorant  and  flupid,  and 
ready  to  fvvallow  even  the  groifefl  delufion. 
People  at  a  diflajice,  who  are  weak  enough  to 
think  the  matter  at  all  worth  enquiry,  have  no 
opportunity  of  receiving  better  information.  The 
llories  come  magnified  to  them  by  a  hundred 
circumilances.  Fools  are  induflrious  in  propagat- 
ing the  impgllure ;  while  the  wife  and  learned  are 
contented,  in  general,  to  deride  its  abfurdity, 
without  informing  themfelves  of  the  particular 
facts,  by  which  it  may  be  dillinctly  refuted.  And 
thus  the  impoftor  above-mentioned  was  enabled 
to  proceed,  from  his  ignorant  Paphlagonians,  to 
the  enlifling  of  votaries,  even  among  the  Grecian 
philofophers,  and  men  of  the  moft  eminent  rank 
and  dillinftion  in  Rome :  Nay,  could  engage 
the  attention  of  that  fage  emperor  Marcus  Au- 
relius ;  fo  far  as  to  make  him  trull  the  fuccefs 
of  a  military  expedition  to  his  delufive  prophecies. 

The  advantages  are  fo  great,  of  flatting  an 
impollure  among  an  ignorant  people,  that,  even 
though   the  delufion  fhould  be  too  grofs  to  im- 

pofe 


of  M  I  R  A  c  L  E  s.  lag 

pofe  on  the  generality  of  them  (zuhich,  though 
Jf.ldom^  is  Jometimes  the  cafe)  it  has  a  much  bet- 
ter chance  for  fucceeding  in  remote  countries, 
than  if  the  firll  fcene  had  been  laid  in  a  city 
renowned  for  arts  and  knowledge.  The  molt 
ignorant  and  barbarous  of  thefe  barbarians  carry 
the  report  abroad.  None  of  their  countrymen 
have  a  large  correfpondence,  or  fufficient  credit 
and  authority  to  concradift  and  beat  down  the 
delufion.  Men's  inclination  to  the  marvellous 
has  full  opportunity  to  difpiay  itfelf.  And  thus 
a  ftory,  which  is  univerfally  exploded  in  the 
place  where  it  was  firll  llarted,  fhall  pafs  for 
certain  at  a  thoufand  miles  difbance.  But  had 
Alexander  fixed  his  refidcnce  at  At/xcns,  the  phi- 
lofophers  of  that  renowned  mart  of  learning  had 
immediately  fprcad,  throughout  the  whole  Ro- 
man empire,  their  fenfe  of  the  matter;  which, 
being  fupported  by  fo  great  authority,  and  dif- 
played  by  all  the  force  of  reafon  and  eloquence, 
had  entirely  opened  the  eyes  of  mankind.  It  is 
true ;  Lucian,  paOing  by  chance  through  Paphla- 
gonia,  had  an  opportunity  of  performing  this 
good  office.  But,  though  much  to  be  wifhed, 
it  does  not  always  happen,  that  every  Alexan- 
der meets  with  a  Lucian,  ready  to  expofe  and 
dete(5t  his  impoftures. 

I  may  add  as  a  fourth  reafon,  which  diminiflies 
the  authority  of  prodigies,  that  there  is  no  tefti- 
mony  for  any,  even  thofe  v/hich  have  not  been 
exprefsly  detetled,  that  is  not  oppofed  by  an  in- 
finite number  of  witneffesj  fo  that  not  only  the 
miracle  deftroys  the  credit  of  teftimony,  but 
the  teilimony  deftroys  itfelf.  To  make  this  the 
better  underftood,  let  us  confider,  that,  in  mat- 
ters of  religion,  whatever  is  different  is  contrary; 
and  that  it  is  impoffible  the  religions  of  ancient 
Rome,  of  Turkey,  ofSiam,  and  of  China  flioald, 
all  of  them,  be  cftablifhed  on  any  folid  foundati- 

VoL.  II.  K  on. 


I30  S    E    C    T    I     O    N      X 

on.  Every  miracle,  therefore,  pretended  to  have 
been  wrought  in  any  of  thefe  religions  (and  all  of 
them  abound  in  miracles),  as  its  direft  fcope  is 
to  eftablifh  the  particular  fyftem  to  which  it  is 
attributed  J  fo  has  it  the  fame  force,  though  more 
indiredly,  to  overthrow  every  other  fyftem.  In; 
deftroying  a  rival  fyftem,  it  likewife  deftroys  the 
credit  of  thofe  miracles,  on  which  that  fyftem  was 
cftabliftied  ;  fo  that  all  the  prodigies  of  different 
religions  are  to  be  regarded  as  contrary  fafts, 
and  the  evidences  of  thefe  prodigies,  whether 
weak  or  ftrong,  as  oppofite  to  each  other.  Ac- 
cording to  this  method  of  reafoning,  when  we 
believe  any  miracle  of  Mahomet  or  his  fucceftbrs, 
we  have  for  cur  warrant  the  teftimony  of  a  few 
barbarous  Arabians:  And  on  the  other  hand,  we 
are  to  regard  the  authority  of  Titus  Livius,  Plu- 
tarch, Tacitus,  and,  in  Ihorr,  of  all  the  authors 
and  witnelTes,  Grecian,  Chinefe,  and  Roman  Ca- 
tholic, who  have  related  any  miracle  in  their  par- 
ticular religion;  I  fay,  v/e  are  to  regard  their  tef- 
timony in  the  fame  light  as  if  they  had  mentioned 
that  Mahometan  miracle,  and  had  in  exprefs 
terms  contradided  it,  with  the  fame  certainty 
as  they  have  for  the  miracle  they  relate.  This 
argument  may  appear  over  fubtile  and  refined; 
but  is  not  in  reality  different  from  the  reafoning 
of  a  judge,  v/ho  fuppofes,  that  the  credit  of  two 
witneffes,  maintaining  a  crime  againft  any  one, 
is  deftroyed  by  the  teftimony  of  two  others, 
who  affi'-m  him  to  have  been  two  hundred  leagues 
diftant,  ar  the  fame  inftant  when  the  crime  is  faid 
to  have   been  committed. 

One  of  the  beft  attefted  miracles  in  all  profane 
hiP.ory,  is  that  which  Tacitus  reports  of  Vcfpa- 
fi^.n,  who  cured  a  bJind  man  in  Alexandria,  by 
means  of  Lis  fpitrle,  and  a  lame  man  by  the 
mere  touch  of  his  foot ;  in  obedience  to  a  vifion 
of  the  god  Serapis,  who  had  enjoined  them  to  h^ve 

recourfc 


or  Miracles.  131 

recourfe  to  the  Emperor,  for  thefe  miraculous 
cures.  The  (lory  may  be  feen  in  that  fine  hif- 
torian  *  ;  where  every  circumftance  feems  to  add 
weight  to  the  tcftimony,  and  might  be  difplayed 
at  large  with  all  the  force  of  argument  and  elo- 
quence, if  any  one  were  now  concerned  to  en- 
force the  evidence  of  that  exploded  and  idolatrous 
fuperftition.  The  gravity,  folidity,  age,  and  pro- 
bity of  fo  great  an  emperor,  who,  through  the 
whole  courfe  of  his  life,  converfed  in  a  familiar 
manner  with  his  friends  and  courtiers,  and  ne- 
ver afFeded  thofe  extraordinary  airs  of  divinity 
aflumed  by  Alexander  and  Demetrius.  The  hif- 
torian,  a  cotemporary  writer,  noted  for  candour 
and  veracity,  and  withal,  the  greateft  and  moft 
penetrating  genius,  perhaps,  of  all  antiquity  ;  and 
fo  free  from  any  tendency  to  credulity,  that  he 
even  lies  under  the  contrary  imputation,  of  athe- 
ifm  and  profanenefs :  The  perfons,  from  whofe 
authority  he  related  the  miracle,  of  eftablifhed 
charadler  for  judgment  and  veracity,  as  we  may 
well  prefume;  eye-witneffes  of  the  fact,  and  con- 
firming their  teftimony,  after  the  Flavian  family 
was  defpoiled  of  the  empire,  and  could  no  longer 
give  any  reward,  as  the  price  of  a  lie.  Utrumque, 
qui  interfiiere^  nunc  quoque  memorant,  pcjiquam  nul- 
lum mendacio  pretium.  To  which  if  we  add  the 
public  nature  of  the  facts,  as  related,  it  will  ap- 
pear, that  no  evidence  can  well  be  fuppofed  ftrong- 
er  for  fo  grofs  and  fo  palpable  a  falfehood. 

There  is  alfo  a  memorable  ftory  related  by  Car- 
dinal de  Retz,  which  may  well  deferve  our  con- 
fideration.  When  that  intriguing  politician  fled 
into  Spain,  to  avoid  the  perfecution  of  his  ene- 
mies, he  paflfed  through  Saragofla,  the  capital  of 
Arragon,  where  he  was  fhewn,  in  the  cathedral, 
K  2  a  man, 

*  Hid.  lib.  V.  cap.  8.     Suetonius  gives  nearly  the  fame  ac- 
count  in  'vita  VtSP. 


132  $    E    C    T    I     O    N     X. 

a  man,  who  had  ferved  {even  years  as  a  door-' 
keeper,  and  was  well  known  to  every  body  in 
town,  that  had  ever  paid  his  devotions  at  that 
church.  He  had 'been  feen,  for  fo  long  a  time, 
wanting  a  leg;  but  recovered  that  limb  by  the 
rubbing  of  holy  oil  upon  the  flump ;  and  the 
cardinal  allures  us  that  he  faw  him  with  two  legs. 
This  miracle  was  vouched  by  all  the  canons  of  the 
church  ;  and  the  whole  company  in  town  were  ap- 
pealed to  for  a  confirmation  of  the  fa6l ;  whom  the 
cardinal  found,  by  their  zealous  devotion,  to  be 
thorough  believers  of  the  miracle.  Here  the  re- 
later  was  alfo  cotemporary  to  the  fuppofed  prodigy, 
of  an  incredulous  and  libertine  chara6ber,  as  well 
as  of  great  genius  j  the  miracle  of  fo  ftngular  a  na- 
ture as  could  fcarcely  admit  of  a  counterfeit,  and 
the  witnefles  very  numerous^  and  all  of  them,  in  a 
manner,  fpedlators  of  the  facl,-  to  which  they  gave 
tiieir  teftimony.  And  v/hat  adds  mightily  to  the 
force  of  the  evidence,  and  may  double  our  fur- 
prize  on  this  occafion,  is^  that  the  cardinal  him- 
{t:\(y  who  relates  the  (lory,  feems  not  to  give  any 
credit  to  it,  and  confequently  cannot  be  fufpefled 
of  any  concurrence  in  the  holy  fraud.  He  confi- 
dered  juflly,  that  it  was  not  requifite,  in  order  to 
rejecl  a  fad  of  this  nature,  to  be  able  accurately, 
to  difprove  the  teftimony,  and  to  trace  its  falfe- 
hood,  through  all  the  circumitances  of  knavery 
and  credulity  which  produced  it.  He  knew,  that, 
as  this  was  commonly  altogether  impoflible  at  any 
fmall  diftance  of  time  and  place  j  fo  was  it  extreme- 
ly diflicult,  even  where  one  was  immediately  pre- 
fent,  by  reafon  of  the  bigotry,  ignorance,  cunning, 
and  roguery  of  a  great  part  of  mankind.  He  there- 
fore concluded,  like  a  juft  rcafoner,  that  fuch  an 
evidence  carried  falfehood  upon  the  very  face  of  it, 
and  that  a  miracle,  fupported  by  any  huinan  tefti- 
mony, was  more  properly  a  fubjeitof  deriiion  than 
of  argument. 

There 


Of  M  r  R  A  c  L  E  s.  133* 

There  furely  never  was  a  greater  number  of  mi- 
racles afcribed  to  one  perfon,  than  thofe,  which 
were  lately  faid  to  have  been  wrought  in  France 
upon  the  tomb  of  Abbe  Paris,  the  famous  J  anfenifl, 
with  whofe  fanclity  the  people  were  fo  long  delud- 
ed. The  curing  of  the  fick,  giving  hearing  to  the 
deaf,  and  fight  to  the  blind,  were  every  where 
talked  of  as  the  ufual  effefts  of  that  holy  fepulchre. 
But  what  is  more  extraordinary;  many  of  the  mi- 
racles were  immediately  proved  upon  the  fpot, 
before  judges  of  unqueftioned  integrity,  attefted 
by  witnefles  of  credit  and  diftintlion,  in  a  learned 
age,  and  on  the  moft  eminent  theatre  that  is  now 
in  the  world.  Nor  is  this  all :  A  relation  of  them 
was  pubJifhed  and  difperfed  every  where ;  nor 
were  the  JefuitSj  though  a  learned  body,  fupported 
by  the  civil  magiftrate,  and  determined  enemies 
to  thofe  opinions,  in  whofe  favour  the  miracles 
were  faid  to  have  been  wrought,  ever  able  diftinft- 
ly  to  refute  or  deteft  them  *.  Where  fhall  wc 
find  fuch  a  number  of  circumftances,  agreeing  to 
the  corroboration  of  one  fa6t  ?  And  what  have  we 
to  oppofe  to  fuch  a  cloud  of  witnefles,  but  the 
abfolute  impoflibility  or  miraculous  nature  of  the 
events,  which  they  relate?  And  this  furely,  in  the 
eyes  of  all  reafonable  people,  will  alone  be  re- 
garded as  a  fufficient  refutation. 

Is  the  confcquence  juft,  becaufe  fome  human 
teftimony  has  the  utmoft  force  and  authority  in 
fome  cafes,  when  it  relates  the  battle  of  Philippi 
or  Pharfalia  for  inftance;  that  therefore  all  kinds 
of  tefl:imony  muft,  in  all  cafes,  have  equal  force 
and  authority?  Suppofe  that  the  Casfarean  and 
Pompeian  fadions  had,  each  of  them,  claimed  the 
viftory  in  thefe  battles,  and  that  the  hiftorians  of 
each  party  had  uniformly  afcribed  the  advantage  to 
their  own  fidcj  how  could  mankind,  at  this  dif- 

tance, 

*  See  NOTE    [L]. 


♦  134  SECTION        X. 

tance,  have  been  able  to  determine  between  thenn  ? 
The  contrariety  is  equally  ftrong  between  the  mi- 
racles relai.ed  by  Herodotus  or  Plutarch,  and 
thofe  delivered  by  Mariana,  Bede,  or  any  nionkirti 
hiilorian. 

The  wife  lend  a  very  academic  faith  to  every  re- 
port which  favours  the  paffion  of  the  reporter; 
whether  it  magnifies  his  country,  his  family,  or 
himfelf,  or  in  any  other  way  ftrikes  in  with  his  na- 
tural inclinations  and  propenfities.  But  what 
greater  temptatioii  than  to  appear  a  rnKTionary,  a 
prophet,  an  ambaflador  from  heaven?  Who  would 
■  not  encounter  many  dangers  and  difficulties,  in  or- 
der to  attain  fo  fublime  a  character  ?  Or  if,  by  the 
help  of  vanity  and  a  heated  imagination,  a  man 
has  firft  made  a  convert  of  himfelf,  and  entered 
feriouOy  into  the  delufion;  who  ever  fcruples  to 
make  ufe  of  pious  frauds,  in  fupport  of  fo  holy 
and  meritorious  a  caufe  ? 

The  fmalleft  fpark  may  here  kindle  into  the 
greatefl  fiame ;  becaufe  the  materials  are  always 
prepared  for  it.  The  avidum  genus  aiiiiculani'm  *, 
the  gazing  populace,  receive  greedily,  '  without 
examination,  whatever  fooths  fuperftition,  and 
promotes  wonder. 

How  many  ftories  of  this  nature,  have,  in  all 
ages,  been  detedled  and  exploded  in  their  in- 
fancy ?  How  many  more  have  been  celebrated 
for  a  time,  and  have  afterwards  funk  into  ne- 
glect and  oblivion?  Where  fuch  reports,  there- 
fore, fry  about,  the  folution  of  the  phenome- 
non is  obvious ;  and  we  judge  in  conformity  to 
regular  experience  and  obfervation,  when  we  ac- 
count for  it  by  the  known  and  natural  princi- 
ples of  credulity  and  delufion.  And  fliall  we, 
rather  tlian  have  a  recourfe  to  fo  natural  a  fo- 
lution, allow  of  a  miraculous  violation  of  the  mofl 
cftablifhed  laws  of  nature  ? 

I  need 
•  Lucret. 


Of  Miracles.  135 

1  need  not  mention  the  difiiculty  of  deteftlng  a 
falfchood  in  any  private  or  even  public  hiftory, 
at  the  place,  where  it  is  faid  to  happen ;  much 
more  when  the  fccne  is  removed  to  ever  fo 
fmall  a  dillance.  Even  a  court  of  judicature, 
with  all  the  authority,  accuracy,  and  judgment, 
which  they  can  employ,  find  themfelves  often  at 
a  iofs  to  diltinguilh  between  truth  and  faliehood 
in  the  mod  recent  actions.  But  the  matter  never 
comes  to  any  iffue,  if  trufled  to  the  common 
method  of  altercation  and  debate  and  flying  ru- 
mours ;  efpecially  when  men's  paflions  have 
taken  part  on  either  fide. 

In  the  infancy  of  new  religions,  the  wife  and 
learned  commonly  efceem  the  matter  too  inconfi- 
derable  to  deferve  their  attention  or  regard.  And 
when  afterwards  they  would  willingly  deted  the 
cheat,  in  order  to  undeceive  the  deluded  multi- 
tude, the  feafon  is  now  paft,  and  the  records  and 
witnefles,  which  might  clear  up  the  matter,  have 
periflied   beyond  recovery. 

No  means  of  detedion  remain,  but  thofe  which 
■niuft  be  drawn  from  the  very  teftimony  itfelf 
of  the  reporters  :  And  thefe,  though  always  fuf- 
ficient  with  the  judicious  and  knowing,  are  com- 
monly too  fine  to  fall  under  the  comprehenfion 
of  the  vulgar. 

Upon  the  whole,  then,  it  appears,  that  no  tef- 
timony for  any  kind  of  miracle  has  ever  amount- 
ed to  a  probability,  much  lefs  to  a  proof;  and 
that,  even  fuppofing  it  amounted  to  a  proof,  it 
would  be  oppofcd  by  another  proof;  derived 
from  the  very  nature  of  the  fact,  which  it  would 
endeavour  to  eftablifh.  It  is  experience  'only, 
which  gives  authority  to  human  teftimony;  and 
it  is  the  fame  experience,  which  afllires  us  of  the 
laws  of  nature.  When,  therefore,  thefe  two 
^iinds  of.  experience  are  contrary,  we  have  no- 
thing 


136        S    E    C    T    I     O    N      X. 

thing  to  do  but  fubtract  the  one  from  the  other, 
and  embrace  an  opinion,  either  on  one  fide  or 
the  other,  with  that  afiurance  which  arifes  from 
the'  remainder.  But  according  to  the  principle 
here  explained,  this  fubftraction,  with  regard  to 
all  popular  religions,  amounts  to  an  entire  anni- 
hilation; and  therefore  we  may  efbablifh  it  as  a 
maxim,  that  no  human  teftimony  can  have  fuch 
force  as  to  prove  a  miracle,  and  make  it  a  juft 
foundation  for  any  fuch  fyftem  of  religion. 

I  beg  the  limitations  here  made  may  be  re- 
marked, when  I  fay,  that  a  miracle  can  never 
be  proved,  fo  as  to  be  the  foundation  of  a  fyftem 
of  religion.  For  I  own,  that  otherwife,  there 
may  pofiibly  be  miracl(;s,  or  violations  of  the 
ufual  courfe  of  nature,  of  fuch  a  kind  as  to  ad- 
mit of  proof  from  human  teftimony ;  though, 
perhaps,  it  will  be  impofiible  to  find  any  fuch 
in  all  the  records  of  hiftory.  Thus,  fuppofe, 
all  authors,  in  all  languages,  agree,  that,  from 
y  the    firft   of  January,    1600,    there     was    a   total 

darknefs  over  the  whole  earth  for  eight  days : 
Suppofe  that  the  tradition  of  this  extraordinary 
event  is  ftill  ftrong  and  lively  among  the  peo- 
ple :  That  all  travellers,  who  return  from  foreign 
countries,  bring  us  accounts  of  the  fame  traditi- 
on, without  the  leaft  variation  or  contradiction  : 
It  is  evident,  that  our  prefent  philofophers,  in- 
ftead  of  doubting  the  fact,  ought  to  receive  it 
as  certain,  and  ought  to  fearch  for  the  caufes 
whence  it  might  be  derived.  The  decay,  cor- 
ruption, and  dilTolution  of  nature,  is  an  event 
rendered  probable  by  fo  many  analogies,  that  any 
phjcnomenon,  which  feems  to  have  a  tendency 
towards  that  cataftrophe,  comes  within  the  reach 
of  human  teftimony,  if  that  teftimony  be  very  ex- 
tenfive   and  uniform. 

But   fjppofe,    that    all    the  hiftorians  who  treat 
of  England,    fiiould    agree,    that,    on    the  firft    of 

January 


of  Miracles.  137 

January,  1600,  Queen  Elizabeth  died;  that  both 
before  and  after  her  death  fhe  was  feen  by  her 
phyficians  and  the  whole  court,  as  is  ufual  with 
perfons  of  her  rank ;  that  her  fucceflbr  was  ac- 
knowledged and  proclaimed  by  the  parliament; 
and  that,  after  being  interred  a  month,  fhe  again 
appeared,  refumed  the  throne,  and  governed  Eng- 
land for  three  years:  I  muft  confefs  that  I 
fhould  be  furprized  at  the  concurrence  of  fo 
many  odd  circumftances,  but  fhould  not  have 
the  leaft  inclination  to  believe  fo  miraculous  an 
event.  I  fhould  not  doubt  of  her  pretended 
death,  and  of  thofe  other  public  circumflances- 
that  followed  it :  I  fhould  only  afTert  it  to  have 
been  pretended,  and  that  it  neither  was,  nor  pof- 
fibly  could  be  real.  You  would  in  vain  objett 
to  me  the  difficulty,  and  almofl  impofTibility  of 
deceiving  the  world  in  an  affair  of  fuch  confe- 
quence  ;  the  wifdom  and  folid  judgment  of  that 
renowned  queen ;  with  the  little  or  no  advan- 
tage which  fhe  Could  reap  from  fo  poor  an  ar- 
tifice :  All  this  might  aflonifh  me ;  but  I  would 
flill  reply,  that  the  knavery  and  folly  of  men 
are  fuch  common  phenomena,  that  I  fhould  ra- 
ther believe  the  mofl:  extraordinary  events  to 
arife  from  their  concurrence,  than  admit  of  fo 
fignal  a  violation  of  the  laws  of  nature. 

But  fhould  this  miracle  be  afcribed  to  any 
new  fyflem  of  religion ;  men,  in  all  ages,  have 
been  fo  much  impofed  on  by  ridiculous  flories 
of  that  kind,  that  this  very  circumftance  would 
be  a  full  proof  of  a  cheat,  and  fufficient,  with 
all  men  of  fenfe,  not  only  to  make  them  rejedt 
the  fa6b,  but  even  rejedt  it  without  farther  ex- 
amination. Though  the  Being  to  whom  the  mi- 
racle is  afcribed,  be,  in  this  cafe.  Almighty,  it 
does  nor,  upon  that  account,  become  a  whit 
more  probable ;    fince  it  is  impofTible   for   us  to 

know 


13?  S     E     C     T     I     O     N      X. 

know  the  attributes  or  aftions  of  fuch  a  Being, 
otherwile  than  from  the  experience  which  we 
have  of  his  produftions,  in  the  ufual  courfe  of 
nature.  This  ftill  reduces  us  to  paft  obferva- 
tion,  and  obliges  us  to  compare  the  inftanccs  of 
the  violation  of  truth  in  the  teftimony  of  men, 
with  thofe  of  the  violation  of  the  laws  of  na- 
ture by  miracles,  in  order  to  judge  which  of 
them  is  moft  likely  and  probable.  As  the  vi- 
olations of  truth  are  more  common  in  the  tef- 
timony concerning  religious  miracles,  than  in 
that  concerning  any  other  matter  of  fa6t;  this 
mufb  diminifh  very  much  the  authority  of  the 
former  teftimony,  and  make  us  form  a  general 
rcfolution,  never  to  lend  any  attention  to  it,  with 
whatever    fpecious  pretence  it  may  be   covered. 

Lord  Bacon  feems  to  have  embraced  the  fame 
principles  of  reafoning.  "  We  ought,  fays  he, 
"  to  make  a  colledcion  or  particular  hiftory  of 
"  all  monfters  and  prodigious  births  or  produc- 
*^  tions,  and  in  a  word  of  every  thing  new,  rare, 
*^  and  extraordinary  in  nature.  But  this  muft 
"  be  done  with  the  moft  fevere  fcrutiny,  left 
*'  we  depart  from  truth.  Above  all,  every  re- 
"  lation  muft  be  confidered  as  fufpicious,  which 
"  depends  in  any  degree  upon  religion,  as  the 
"  prodigies  of  Livy  :  And  no  lefs  fo,  every  thing 
"  that  is  to  be  found  in  the  writers  of  natural 
"  magic  or  alchimy,  or  fuch  authors,  who  feem, 
**  all  of  them,  to  have  an  unconquerable  appe- 
"  tite   for  falfehood  and  fable  *." 

I  am  the  better  plcafed  with  the  method  of 
reafoning  here  delivered,  as  I  think  it  may  ferve 
to  confound  thofe  dangerous  friends  or  difguifcd 
enemies  to  the  Cbrijlian  Religion,  who  have  un- 
dertaken to  defend  it  by  the  principles  of  human 
reafon.  Our  moft  holy  religion  is  founded  on 
Failbj  not  on   reafon  j   and  it  is   a  fure  method  of 

expofing 

*  Nov.  Org.  lib.  ii.  aph.   29. 


of     M   I   R    A   C   L   E  S.  139 

cxpofing  it  to  put  it  to  fuch  a  trial  as  it  is, 
by  no  means,  fitted  to  endure.  To  make  this 
more  evident,  let  us  examine  thofc  miracles,  re- 
lated in  Icripturej  and  not  to  lofc  ourfelves  in 
too  wide  a  field,  let  us  confine  ourfelves  to  fuch 
as  we  find  in  the  Pentateuch^  which  we  fhall  ex- 
amine, according  to  the  principles  of  thcfe  pre- 
tended Chriftians,  not  as  the  word  or  teftimony 
of  God  himfelf,  but  as  the  produ6lion  of  a  mere 
human  writer  and  hiftorian.  Here  then  we  are 
firll  to  confider  a  book,  prefented  to  us  by  a 
barbarous  and  ignorant  people,  written  in  an  age 
when  they  were  ftlll  more  barbarous,  and  in  all 
probability  long  after  the  fads  which  it  relates, 
corroborated  by  no  concurring  teftimony,  and 
refembling  thofe  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  ftate  of  the  world  and  of 
human  nature  entirely  difierent  from  the  pre- 
fent :  Of  our  fall  from  that  ftate :  Of  the  age  of 
man,  extended  to  near  a  thoufand  years:  Of  the 
deftruction  of  the  world  by  a  deluge  :  Of  the 
arbitrary  choice  of  one  people,  as  the  favou- 
rites of  heaven;  and  that  people  the  country- 
men of  the  author :  Of  their  deliverance  from 
bondage  by  prodigies  the  moft  aftonifhing  ima- 
ginable :  I  defire  any  one  to  lay  his  hand  upon 
his  heart,  and  after  a  ferious  confideration  de- 
clare, whether  he  thinks  that  the  falfehood  of 
fuch  a  book,  fupported  by  fuch  a  teftimony, 
would  be  more  extraordinary  and  miraculous 
than  all  the  miracles  it  relates ;  which  is,  howe- 
ver, neceflary  to  make  it  be  received,  accord- 
ing to  the  meafures  of  probability  above  efta- 
bliftied. 

What    we  have  faid   of  miracles  may    be   ap- 
plied, without  any   variation,  to  prophecies;  and 

indeed. 


J40  S    E    C    T    I    O    N     X. 

indeed,  all  prophecies  are  real  miracles,  and 
as  fuch  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  abfurd  to  employ  any  prophecy  as  an  argu- 
ment for  a  divine  miffion  or  authority  from  hea- 
ven. So  that,  upon  the  whole,  we  may  conclude, 
that  the  Chrijlian  Religion  not  only  was  at  firft  at- 
tended with  miracles,  but  even  at  this  day  can- 
not be  believed  by  any  reafonable  perfon  with- 
out one.  Mere  reafon  is  infufficient  to  convince 
us  of  its  veracity;  And  whoever  is  moved  by 
Faith  to  aflent  to  it,  is  confcious  of  a  continued 
miracle  in  his  own  perfon,  which  fubverts  all 
the  principles  of  his  underftanding,  and  gives 
him  a  determination  to  believe  what  is  moft 
contrary  to  cuftom  and  experience. 


SEC- 


(     141     ) 


SECTION      XL 


Of  a    Particular   Providence    and   of  a 
Future  State. 


X  Was  lately  engaged  in  converfatlon  with  a 
friend  who  loves  fceptical  paradoxes  j  where,  though 
he  advanced  many  principles,  of  which  I  can  by 
no  means  approve,  yet  as  they  feem  to  be  cu- 
rious, and  to  bear  fome  relation  to  the  chain 
of  reafoning  carried  on  throughout  this  enquiry, 
I  fhall  here  copy  them  from  my  memory  as  ac- 
curately as  I  can,  in  order  to  fubmit  them  to 
the  judgment  of  the  reader. 

Our  converfation  began  with  my  admiring  the 
fingular  good  fortune  of  philofophy,  which,  as  it 
requires  entire  liberty  above  all  other  privileges, 
and  chiefly  flourilhes  from  the  free  oppofition  of 
fentiments  and  argumentation,  received  its  firit 
birth  in  an  age  and  country  of  freedom  and  to- 
leration, and  was  never  cramped,  even  in  its  mod 
extravagant  principles,  by  any  creeds,  confefli- 
ons,  or  penal  llatutes.  For,  except  the  banifh- 
mentof  Protagoras,  and  the  death  of  Socrates,  which 
lafl:  event  proceeded  partly  from  other  motives, 
there  are  fcarcely  any  inftances  to  be  met  with, 
in  ancient  Iiiftory,  of  this  bigotted  jealoufy,  with 
which  the  prefent  age  is  fo  much  infefted.  Epi- 
curus  lived    at  Athens    to  an  advanced    age,    in 

peace 


t4'2  SECTION      XI. 

peace  and  tranquillity:  Epicureans*  were  even  ad- 
mitted to  receive  the  facerdotal  chara6ler,  and  to 
officiate  at  the  altar,  in  the  moft  facred  rites  of 
the  eftabliihed  religion :  And  the  public  encou- 
ragementf  of  penfions  and  falaries  was  afforded 
equally,  by  the  wifeft  of  all  the  Roman  emperorsjl, 
to  the  profeffors  of  every  fe6l  of  philofophy.  How 
requifite  fuch  kind  of  treatment  was  to  philofo- 
phy, in  her  early  youth,  will  eafily  be  conceiv- 
ed, if  we  reflet^,  that,  even  at  prefent,  when  fhe 
may  be  fuppofed  more  hardy  and  robuft,  fhe 
bears  with  much  difficulty  the  inclemency  of  the 
feafons,  and  thofe  harffi  winds  of  calumny  and 
perfecution,  which  blow   upon   her. 

You  admire,  fays  my  friend,  as  the  fingular 
good  fortune  of  philofophy,  what  feems  to  refult 
from  the  natural  courfe  of  things,  and  to  be  un- 
avoidable in  every  age  and  nation.  This  per- 
tinacious bigotry,  of  which  you  complain,  as  fo 
fatal  to"*  philofophy,  is  really  her  offspring,  who, 
after  allying  with  fuperftition,  feparates  himfelf 
entirely  from  the  intereft  of  his  parent,  and  be- 
comes her  moft  inveterate  enemy  and  perfecu- 
tor.  Speculative  dogmas  of  religion,  the  prefent 
occafions  of  fuch  furious  difpute,  could  not  pof- 
fibly  be  conceived  or  admitted  in  the  early  ages 
of  the  world;  when  mankind,  being  wholly  illi- 
terate, formed  an  idea  of  religion  more  fuitable 
to  their  weak  apprehenfion,  and  compofed  their 
lacred  tenets  of  fucli  tales  chiefly  as  were  the 
objedls  of  traditional  belief,  more  than  of  argu- 
ment or  difputation.  After  the  firft  alarm,  there- 
fore, was  over,  which  arofe  from  the  new  para- 
doxes and  principles  of  the  philofophers;  thefe 
teachers  feem  ever  after,  during  the  ages  of  an- 
tiquity, tp  have  lived  in  great  harmony  with  the 

eftabliffied 


•    LUCIAM   aVIXTT.  y.,  A:t/Tl9<tJ. 

t  LuciANi  UKX'^,  t  id,  Si  Dio. 


Of  a  Providence  and  Future  State.      1(4^ 

cftabliflied  fuperftition,  and  to  have  made  a  fair 
partition  of  mankind  between  them ;  the  former 
claiming  all  the  learned  and  wife,  the  latter  pof- 
fefling  all  the  vulgar  and  illiterate. 

It  lecms  then,  faid  I,  that  you  leave  politics  en- 
tirely out  of  the  qiieftion,  and  never  fuppofe,  that 
a  wife  magiilrate  can  juftly  be  jealous  of  certain  te- 
nets of  philofophy,  fuch  as  thofe  of  Epicurus,  which, 
denying  a  divine  exiftence,  and  confequently  a  pro- 
vidence and  a  future  ilate,  feem  to  loofen,  in 
a  great  mcafure,  the  ties  of  morality,  and  may 
be  fuppofed,  for  that  rcafon,  pernicious  to  the 
peace    of  civil  fociety. 

I  know,  replied  he,  that  in  fa<5t  thefe  per- 
fecutions  never,  in  any  age,  proceeded  from  calm 
reafon,  or  from  experience  of  the  pernicious  con- 
fequences  of  philolbphy;  but  arofe  entirely  from 
paffion  and  prejudice.  But  what  if  I  Ihould  ad- 
vance farther,  and  aflert,  that,  if  Epicurus  had 
been  accufed  before  the  people,  by  any  of  the 
Jycophants  or  informers  of  thofe  days,  he  could 
cafily  have  defended  his  caufe,  and  proved  his 
principles  of  philofophy  to  be  as  falutary  as  thofe 
of  his  adverfaries,  who  endeavoured,  with  fuch. 
zeal,  to  expofe  him  to  the  public  hatred  and 
jealoufy  ? 

I  wifh,  faid  I,  you  would  try  your  eloquence 
upon  fo  extraordinary  a  topic,  and  make  a  fpeecli 
for  Epicurus,  which  might  fatisfy,  not  the  mob 
of  Athens,  if  you  will  allow  that  ancient  and 
polite  city  to  have  contained  any  mob,  but  the 
more  philofophical  part  of  his  audience,  fuch  as 
might  be  fuppofed  capable  of  comprehending  his 
arguments. 

The  matter  would  not  be  difficult,  upon  fuch 
conditions,  replied  he :  And  if  you  pleafe,  I  fhall 
fuppofe  myfelf  Epicurus  for  a  moment,  and  make 
you  fland  for  the  Athenian  people,  and  fhall  de- 
liver  you  fuch   an   harangue   as  will  fill  the  urn 

with 


144         S     E     C     T     I     O     N      XI. 

with  white  beans,  and  leave  not  a  black  one  tp 
gratify  the  malice  of  my  adverfaries. 

Very  well :  Pray  proceed  upon  thefe  fuppofitions. 

I  come  hither,  O  ye  Athenians,  to  juftify  in 
your  aflembly  what  I  maintained  in  my  fchool, 
and  I  find  myfelf  impeached  by  furious  antago- 
nifts,  inllead  of  reafoning  with  calm  and  difpaf- 
fionate  enquirers.  Your  deliberations,  which  of 
right  fhould  be  direded  to  queftions  of  public 
good,  and  the  intereft  of  the  commonwealth,  are 
diverted  to  the  difquifitions  of  fpeculative  phi- 
lofophy;  and  thefe  magnificent,  but  perhaps  fruit- 
lefs  enquiries,  take  place  of  your  more  familiar 
but  more  ufeful  occupations.  But  fo  far  as  in 
me  lies,  I  will  prevent  this  abufe.  We  fhall  not 
here  difputc  concerning  the  origin  and  govern- 
ment of  worlds.  We  fhall  only  enquire  how  far 
fuch  queftions  concern  the  public  interefV.  And 
if  I  can  perfuade  you,  that  they  are  entirely  in- 
different to  the  peace  of  fociety  and  fecurity  of 
government,  I  hope  that  you  will  prefently  fend 
us  back  to  our  fchools,  there  to  examine,  at  lei- 
fure,  the  queflion,  the  moft  fublime,  but,  at  the 
fame    time,    the   moll:  fpeculative    of  all  philofo- 

The  religious  philofophers,  not  fatisfied  with 
the  tradition  of  your  forefathers,  and  do6lrine  of 
your  priefts  (in  which  1  willingly  acquiefce),  in- 
dulge a  rafli  curiofity,  in  trying  how  far  they  can 
eftablifh  religion  upon  the  principles  of  reafonj 
and  they  thereby  excite,  inflead  of  fatibfying, 
the  doubts,  which  naturally  arife  from  a  di- 
ligent and  fcrutinous  enquiry.  They  paint,  in  the 
moft  magnificent  colours,  the  order,  beauty,  and 
wife  arrangement  of  the  univerfe;  and  then  afk, 
if  fuch  a  glorious  difplay  of  intelligence  could 
pi'oceed  from  the  fortuitous  concourfe  of  atoms, 
or  if  chance  could  produce  what  the  greateft 
genius  can  never  fufhciently  admire.  I  fhall  not 
J  examine 


Of  a  Providence  and  Future  State.      145 

examine  the  juflncfs  of  this  argument.  I  fhall  al- 
low it  to  be  as  folid  as  my  antagonifls  and  ac- 
cufers  can  defire.  It  is  fufficient,  if  I  can  prove, 
from  this  very  reafoning,  that  the  quedion  is  en- 
tirely fpeculative,  and  that,  when,  in  my  philo- 
fophical  difquifitions,  1  deny  a  providence  and 
a  future  llate,  I  undermine  not  the  foundations 
offociety,  but  advance  principles,  which  they  them- 
felves,  upon  their  own  topics,  if  tliey  argue  con- 
fidently, muit  allow  to  be    folid   and   fatisfaftory. 

You  then,  who  are  my  accufers,  have  acknow- 
ledged, that  the  chief  or  fole  argument  for  a  di- 
vine exigence  (which  I  never  queftioned)  is  de- 
rived from  the  order  of  nature  j  where  there  ap- 
pear fuch  marks  of  intelligence  and  defign,  that 
you  think  it  extravagant  to  alTign  for  i'ts  caufe, 
either  chance,  or  the  blind  and  unguided  force 
of  matter.  You  allow,  that  this  is  an  argument 
drawn  from  efFedls  to  caufes.  From  the  order 
of  the  work,  you  infer,  that  there  mufb  have 
been  projedt  and  forethought  in  the  workman.  If 
you  cannot  make  out  this  point,  you  allow,  that 
your  conclufion  fails;  and  you  pretend  not  to 
eftablifh  the  conclufion  in  a  greater  latitude  than 
the  phenomena  of  nature  will  juftify.  Thefe  are 
your  concellions.  I  defire  you  to  mark  the  con- 
fequences. 

When  we  infer  any  particular  caufe  from  an 
effedl,  we  mufb  proportion  the  one  to  the  other, 
and  can  never  be  allowed  to  afcribe  to  the  caufe 
any  qualities,  but  what  are  exactly  fufHcient  to 
produce  the  effeft.  A  body  of  ten  ounces  raif- 
ed  in  a  fcale  may  ferve  as  a  proof,  that  the 
counterbalancino;  weiG,ht  exceeds  ten  ounces:  but 
can  never  afford  a  reafon  that  it  exceeds  a  hun- 
dred. \i  the  caufe,  afTigned  for  any  effedt,  be 
not  fufficient  to  produce  it,  we  mufb  either  re- 
je(5b  that  caufe,  or  add  to  it  fuch  qualities  as  will 
give  it  a  jufb  proportion  to  the  effed:*     But  if  we 

Vol.  II.  L  afcribe 


146         SECTION      XL 

afcribe  to  it  farther  qualities,  or  affirm  it  capa- 
ble of  producing  other  effedls,  we  can  only  in- 
dulge the  licence  of  conjecture,  and  arbitrarily 
fuppofe  the  exiftence  of  qualities  and  energies, 
without  reafon  or  authority. 

The  fame  rule  holds,  whether  the  caufe  af- 
figned  be  brute  unconfcious  matter,  or  rational 
intelligent  being.  li  the  caufe  be  known  only 
by  the  effedt,  we  never  ought  to  afcribe  to  it 
any  qualities,  beyond  what  are  precifely  requi- 
fite  to  produce  the  effc6l :  Nor  can  we,  by  any 
rules  of  juft  reafoning,  return  back  from  the  caufe, 
and  infer  other  efFeds  from  it,  beyond  thofe  by 
which  alone  it  is  known  to  us.  No  one,  mere- 
ly from  the  fight  of  one  of  Zeuxis's  pidures, 
could  know,  that  he  was  alfo  a  ftatuary  or  ar- 
chitect, and  was  an  artift  no  lefs  fl<.ilful  in  ftone 
and  marble  than  in  colours.  The  talents  and  tafte, 
difplayed  in  the  particular  work  before  us ;  thefe 
we  may  fafely  conclude  the  workman  to  be  pof- 
fefled  of.  The  caufe  muft  be  proportioned  to 
the  effettj  and  if  we  exadlly  and  precifely  pro- 
portion it,  we  fhall  never  find  in  it  any  qualities, 
that  point  farther,  or  afix)rd  an  inference  con- 
cerning any  other  defign  or  performance.  Such 
qualities  muft  be  fomevvhat  beyond  what  is  mere- 
ly requifite  for  producing  the  eiTedt,  which  we 
examine. 

Allowing,  therefore,  the  gods  to  be  the  au- 
thors of  the  exiftence  or  order  of  the  univerfej  it 
follows,  that  tiiey  pofTefs  that  precife  degree  of 
powLT,  intelligence,  and  benovelence,  which  ap- 
pears in  their  workmanfhip;  but  nothing  farther 
can  ever  be  proved,  except  we  call  in  the  alTif- 
tance  of  exaggeration  and  flattery  to  fupply  the 
defefls  of  argument  and  reafoning.  So  far  as  the 
traces  of  any  attributes,  at  prefent,  appear,  fo 
far  may  v/e  conclude  thefe  attributes  to  exift. 
The  fuppofition   of  farther  attributes  is  mere  hy- 

pothefis  i 


of  a  Providence  and  Future  State.   147 

pothefis ;  much  more  the  fuppofition,  that,  in  dif- 
tant  regions  of  fpace  or  periods  of  tirrif,  there 
has  been,  or  will  be,  a  more  magnificent  cifpiay 
of  thefe  attributes,  and  a  fcheme  of  admmlllra- 
tion  more  fuitable  to  fuch  imaginary  virtues. 
We  can  never  be  allowed  to  mount  up  fiom  ihe 
univerfe,  the  effeifl,.  to  Jupiter,  the  caufe;  and 
then  delcend  downwards,  to  infer  any  new  ef- 
fe6t  from  that  caufe;  as  if  the  prefent  effeds 
alone  were  not  entirely  worthy  of  the  glorious 
attributes,  which  we  afcribe  to  that  deity.  The 
knowledge  of  the  caufe  being  derived  folely  from 
the  efFe6b,  they  muft  be  exadly  adjufted  to  each 
other;  and  the  one  can  never  refer  to  any  thing 
farther,  or  be  the  foundation  of  any  new  mfe- 
rence  and  conclufion. 

You  find  certain  phasnomena  in  nature.  You 
feek  a  caufe  or  author.  You  imagine  that  you 
have  found  him.  You  afterwards  become  fo  en- 
amoured of  this  offspring  of  your  brain,  that 
you  imagine  it  impoffible,  but  he  m.ift  produce- 
fomething  greater  and  more  perfed:  than  the 
prefent  fcene  of  things,  which  is  fo  full  of  ill 
and  diforder.  You  forget,  that  this  fuperlaiive 
intelligence  and  benevolence  are  entirely  imagi- 
nary, or,  at  lead,  without  any  foundation  m  rea- 
fon;  and  that  you  have  no  ground  to  afcribe  to 
him  any  qualities,  but  what  you  fee  he  has  ac- 
tually exerted  and  difplayed  in  his  producflions. 
Let  your  gods,  therefore,  O  philofophers,  be  fuit- 
ed  to  the  prefent  appearances  by  arbitarry  fup- 
pofitions,  in  order  to  fuit  them  to  the  attributes, 
which  you    fo  fondly  afcribe  to   your   deities. 

When  prielts  and  poets,  fupported  by  your  au- 
thority, O  Athenians,  talk  of  a  golden  or  filver 
age,  which  preceded  the  prefent  ftate  of  vice  and 
mifery,  1  hear  them  with  attention  and  with  re- 
verence. But  v/hen  philofophers,  who  pretend  to 
negledt  authority,    and    to   cultivate  reafon,  hold 

L  2  the 


148       Section     xl 

the  fame  difcourfe,  I  pay  them  not,  I  own,  the 
lame  obfequious  fubmiffion  and  pious  deference, 
I  aflcj  who  carried  them  into  the  councils  of  the 
gods,  who  opened  to  them  the  book  of  fate,  that 
they  thus  rafhly  affirm,  that  their  deities  have 
executed,  or  will  execute,  any  purpofe  beyond 
what  has  actually  appeared?  If  they  fell  me,  that 
they  have  mounted  on  the  fleps  or  by  the  gra- 
dual afcent  of  reafon,  and  by  drawing  inferences 
from  effedls  to  caufjs,  1  fti-11  infill,  that  they  have 
aided  the  afcent  of  reafon  by  the  wings  of  ima- 
gination; otherwrfe  th-ey  could  not  thus  change 
their  manner  of  inference,  and  argue  from  cau- 
fes  to  efl'edl's ;  prefum'ing,  that  a  more  perfe6t  pro- 
duftion  than  the  prefent  world  would  'be  more 
fuitable  to  fuch  perfecfl  beings  as  the  gods,  and 
forgetting  that  they  have  no  reafon  to  afcribe 
to  thefe  ccieftial  beings  any  perfecftion  or  any  at- 
tribute, but  what  can  be  found  irl  the  prefent 
world. 

Hence  a!l  the  fruitlefs  induftry  to  account  for 
the  ill  appearances  of  nature,  and  fave  the  ho- 
nour of  the  gods;  while  we  mult  acknowledge 
the  reality  of  that  evitl  and  diforder,  v/ith  which 
the  world  fo  much  abounds.  The  obltinate  and 
intraftable  qualities  of  matter,  we  are  told,  or 
tlie  obfervance  of  general  laws,  or  fome  fuch  rea- 
fon, is  the  fole  caui'e,  which  controlled  the  pow- 
er and  benevolence  of  Jupiter,  and  obliged  him 
to  create  mankind  and  every  fenfible  crea- 
ture fo  imperfeeft  and  fo  unhappy.  Thefe  attri- 
butes, then,  are,  it  feems,  beforehand,  taken  for 
granted,  in  their  greatcft  latitude.  And  upon  that 
fuppoficion,  1  own,  that  fuch  conjedlures  may, 
perhaps,  be  admitted  as  plaufible  fokuions  of  the 
ill  phitnomena.  But  lliil  I  aH-:;  Why  take  thefe 
attributes  for  granted,  or  why  afcribe  to  the  caufe 
any  qualities  but  what  a<fl-uaily  appear  in  the  ef- 
fe(^t  ?  Why  torture  your  brain  tojuftify  the  courfc 

of 


Of  a  Providen-ce  and  Future  State.       149 

of  nature  upon  fuppofitions,  which,  for  aught  you 
know,  may  be  entirely  imaginary,  and  of  which  there 
are   to  be  found  no  traces  in  tiie  courfe  ofnature? 

The  religious  hypothefis,  therefore,  mull  be  con- 
fidered  only  as  a  particular  method  of  account- 
ing for  the  vilible  phiEnomena  of  the  univerfe: 
But  no  juft  reafoner  will  ever  prefume  to  infer 
from  it  any  fingle  fa6t,  and  alter  or  add  to  the 
phcEnomena,  in  any  Cngle  particular.  If  you  think, 
that  the  appearances  of  things  prove  fuch  caufes,  it 
is  allowable  for  you  to  draw  an  inference  con- 
cerning the  exiftence  of  thefe  caufes.  In  fuch 
complicated  and  fublime  fubjefts,  every  one 
fliould  be  indulged  in  the  liberty  of  conje^lure 
and  argument.  But  here  you  ought  to  reft.  If 
you  come  backward,  and  arguing  from  your  in- 
ferred caufes,  conclude,  that  any  other  fad;  has 
exifted,  or  will  exiil,  in  the  courfe  of  nature, 
which  may  ferve  as  a  fuller  difplay  of  particu- 
lar attributes  i  I  muft  admonifh  you,  that  you  have 
departed  from  the  method  of  reafoning,  attach- 
ed to  the  prefent  fubjeft,  and  have  certainly  ad- 
ded fomething  to  the  attributes  of  the  caufe, 
beyond  what  appears  in  the  efifeft;  otherwife  you 
could  never,  with  tolerable  fenfe  or  propriety, 
add  any  thing  to  the  efFeft,  in  order  to  render 
it  more  worthy  of  the  caufe. 

Where,  then,  is  the  odioufnefs  of  that  doflrine, 
which  I  teach  in  my  fchool,  or  rather,  which  I 
examine  in  my  gardens  ?  Or  what  do  you  find 
in  this  whole  qucftion,  wherein  the  fecurity  of 
good  morals,  or  the  peace  and  order  of  fociety 
is   in   the  leaft  concerned  ? 

I  deny  a  providence,  you  fay,  and  fupreme 
governour  of  the  world,  who  guides  the  courfe 
of  events,  and  punifhes  the  vicious  with  infamy 
and  difappointment,  and  rewards  the  virtuous  with 
honour  and  fuccefs,  in  all  their  undertakings.  But 
furely,  I  deny  not  the  courfe  itfelf  of  events, 
which  lies  open  to  every  one's  enquiry  and  exa- 
mination. 


I50  SECTION      XI. 

mination.      I  acknowledge,    that,    in   the   prefent 
order    of  things,    virtue    is    attended    with    more 
peace  of  mind  than  vice,  and  meets  with  a  more 
favourable   reception  from  the  world.     I  am  fen- 
fible,    that,    according   to  the    pail  experience   of 
mankind,    friendfhip    is    the    chief  joy  of  human 
life,  and  moderation  the  only  fource  of  tranquil- 
Jity  pnd  happinefs.     I   never   balance  between  the 
virtuous   and  vicious  courfe  of  iifci  but  am  fen- 
fible,    that  to   a   well    dilpofed    mind,    every    ad- 
vantage is  on   the  fide  of  the  former.     And  v/hat 
can   you  fay  more,  allowing  all  your  fuppofitions 
and  reafonings  ?    You    tell  me,    indeed,  that  this 
difpofition    of    things   proceeds   from   intelligence 
and  defign.     But  whatever  it  proceeds  from,  the 
dilpofition  itfelf,  on  which  depends  our  happinefs 
or  m'lftry,  and   confequently  our  conduft  and  de- 
portment in  life,  is  ftill  the  fame.   It  is  ilill  open  for 
me,  as  well  as  you,  to  regulate  my  behaviour,  by  my 
experience  of  paft  events.     And  if  you  affirm,  that, 
while    a  divine  providence   is  allowed,  and    a  fu- 
preme  diftributive  juftice  in  rhe  univerfe,  I  ought 
to    expe6l    fome   more   particular   reward    of  the 
good,  and  punifliment  of  the  bad,  beyond  the  ordi- 
nary courfe  of  events j  1  here  find  the  fame  fallacy, 
which  I  have  before  endeavoured  to  deteA.     You 
perfift  in  imagining,  that,  if  we  grant  that  divine 
exigence,  for  which  you  fo  earneflly  contend,  you 
may  fafely   infer  confequenccs  from   it,    and  add 
fomethingto  the  experienced  order  of  nature,  by  ar- 
guing from  the  attributes  which  you  afcribe  to  your 
gods.     You  feem  not  to   remember,  that  all  your 
reafonings  on  this  fubjeft  can  only  be  drawn  from 
effecls  to  caufes  i  and  that  every  argument,  deduced 
from  caufes  to  effeds,  muft  of  neceffity  be  a  grofs 
fophifm ;  fince  it  is  impoflible  for  you  to  know  any 
thing  of  the  caufe,'  but  what  you  have  antecedently, 
not  inferred,  but  difcovered  to  the  full,  in  the  effcd:. 

But 


OfaPROviDENCE  and  Future  State.       T51 

But  what  muft  a  philofopher  think  of  thofe 
vain  reafoners,  who,  inftead  of  regarding  the 
prefent  fcene  of  things  as  the  fole  objed  of  their 
contemplation,  fo  far  reverfe  the  whole  courfe 
of  nature,  as  to  render  this  life  merely  a  paf- 
fage  to  fomething  farther;  a  porch,  which  leads 
to  a  greater,  and  vaftly  different  building;  a  pro- 
logue, v/hich  ferves  only  to  introduce  the  piece, 
and  give  it  more  grace  and  propriety?  Whence,  do 
you  think,  can  fuch  philoibphers  derive  their 
idea  of  the  gods  ?  From  their  own  conceit  and 
imagination  furely.  For  if  they  derived  it  from 
the  prefent  ph;Enomena,  it  would  never  point  to 
any  thing  fartiier,  but  mud  be  exa6lly  adjufted 
to  them.  That  the  divinity  may  poffibly  be  endowed 
with  attributes,  which  we  have  never  feen  exert- 
ed ;  may  be  governed  by  principles  of  adtion, 
which  we  cannot  difcover  to  be  fatisfied :  All 
this  will  freely  be  allowed.  But  ftill  this  is  mere 
pojjibiliiy  and  hypothefis.  We  never  can  have  rea- 
fon  to  infer  any  attributes,  or  any  principles  of 
aflion  in  him,  but  fo  far  as  we  kfiow  them  to 
have  been  exerted  and  fatisfied. 

Are  there  any  marks  of  a  diflributive  jufiice  in 
the  world  ?  If  you  anfwer  in  the  affirmative,  I  con- 
clifie,  that,  fince  juftice  here  exerts  itfelf,  it  :s 
fatisfied.  If  you  reply  in  the  negative,  I  con- 
clude, that  you  have  then  no  reafon  to  afcribe 
juftice,  in  our  fenfe  of  it,  to  the  gods.  If  you 
hold  a  medium  between  affirmation  and  negati- 
on, by  faying,  that  the  juflic^  of  the  gods,  at 
prefent,  exerts  itfelf  in  part,  but  not  in  its  full 
extent ;  I  anfwer,  that  you  have  no  reafon  to  give 
it  any  particular  extent,  but  only  fo  far  as  yo  u  fee 
it,  at  prefent^  exert  iifelF. 

Thus  I  bring  the  difpute,  O  Athenians,  to  a 
Ihort  iflue  with  my  antagonifls.  The  courfe  of 
nature  lies  open  to  my  contemplation  as  well  as  to 
theirs.      The  experienced   train   of  events   is  the 


great 


152        S    E    C    T    I    O    N      XI. 

great  ftandard,  by  which  we  all  regulate  our  con- 
dud.  Nothing  elfe  can  be  appealed  to  in  the 
field,  or  in  the  fenate.  Nothing  elfe  ought  ever 
to  be  heard  of  in  the  fchool,  or  in  the  clofet.  In 
vain  would  our  limited  underftanding  break  through 
thofe  boundaries,  which  are  too  narrow  for  our 
fond  innagination.  While  we  argue  from  the 
courfe  of  nature,  and  infer  a  particular  intelli- 
gent caufe,  which  firfl  beftowed,  and  ftili  preferves 
order  in  the  univerfe,  we  embrace  a  principle, 
which  is  both  uncertain  and  ufelefs.  It  is  uncer- 
tain i  becaufe  the  fubjefh  lies  entirely  beyond  the 
reach  of  human  experience.  It  is  ufelefs ;  becaufe 
our  knowledge  of  this  caufe  being  derived  entirely 
from  the  courfe  of  nature,  we  can  never,  accord- 
ing to  the  rules  of  juft  reafoning,  return  back  from 
the  caufe  with  any  new  inference,  or  making  ad- 
ditions to  the  common  and  experienced  courfe  of 
nature,  eftablifh  any  nev;  principles  of  conduct  and 
behaviour. 

I  obferve  (faid  I,  finding  he  had  finifhed  his  ha- 
rangue) that  you  negleft  not  the  artifice  of  the 
demagogues  of  old ;  and  as  you  were  pleafed  to 
make  me  ftand  for  the  people,  you  infinuate 
yourfelf  into  m.y  favour  by  embracing  thofe  prin- 
ciples, to  which,  you  know,  I  have  always  ex- 
prefTed  a  particular  attachment.  But  allowing  you 
to  make  experience  (as  indeed  I  think  you  ought) 
the  only  flandard  of  our  judgment  concerning  this, 
and  all  other  queftions  of  fad;  I  doubt  not  but, 
from  the  very  faifie  experience,  to  which  you  ap- 
peal, it  may  be  poflible  to  refute  this  reafoning, 
which  you  have  put  into  the  itiouth  of  Epicurus. 
If  you  faw,  for  inftance,  a  half-finiflied  build- 
ing, furrounded  with  heaps  of  brick  and  Itone 
and  mortar,  and  all  the  inflruments  of  mafonryj 
could  you  not  infer  from  the  eifetl,  that  it  was  a 
work  of  defign  and  contrivance  ?  And  could  you 
not  return  again,  from  this  inferred  caufe,   to  infer 

new 


Of  a  Providence  and  Future  State.       153 

new  additions  to  the  effcdl,  and  conclude,  that 
the  building  would  foon  be  finiflied,  and  receive 
all  the  further  improvements,  which  art  could  be- 
ftow  upon  it  ?  If  you  faw  upon  the  fea-fhore  thq 
print  of  one  human  foot,  you  would  conclude, 
that  a  man  had  paflfed  that  way,  and  that  he  had 
alfo  left  the  traces  of  the  other  foot,  though  ef- 
faced by  the  rolling  of  the  fands  or  inundation  of 
the  waters.  Why  then  do  you  refufe  to  admit  the 
fame  method  of  realbning  with  regard  to  the  or- 
der of  nature  ?  Confider  the  world  and  the  pre- 
fent  life  only  as  an  imperfect  building,  from  which 
you  can  infer  a  fuperior  intelligence  ;  and  arguing 
from  that  fuperior  inteHigence,  which  can  leave 
nothing  imperfe6t ;  why  may  you  not  infer  a  more 
finifhed  fcheme  or  plan,  which  will  receive  its  com- 
pletion in  fome  diftant  point  of  fpace  or  time  ? 
Are  not  thefe  methods  of  reafoning  exa6bly  fimilar  ? 
And  under  what  pretence  can  you  embrace  the  one, 
■while  you  rejedt  the  other  ? 

The  infinite  difference  of  the  fubjeifts,  replied 
he,  is  a  fufficient  foundation  for  this  difference  in 
my  conclufions.  In  works  of  human  art  and  con- 
trivance, it  is  allowable  to  advance  from  the  effedt 
to  the  caufe,  and  returning  back  from  the  caufe, 
to  form  new  inferences  concerning  the  effect,  and 
examine  the  alterations,  which  it  has  probably  un- 
dergone, or  may  flill  undergo.  But  what  is  the 
foundation  of  this  method  of  reafoning  ?  Plainly 
this;  that  man  is  a  being,  whojn  we  know  by 
experience,  whofe  motives  and  defigns  we  are  ac- 
quainted with,  and  whofe  projects  and  inclina- 
tions have  a  certain  connexion  and  coherence, 
according  to  the  laws  which  nature  has  eftablifh- 
ed  for  the  government  of  fuch  a  creature.  When, 
therefore,  we  find,  that  any  work  has  proceeded 
from  the  fkill  and  induflry  of  man  j  as  we  are 
otherwife  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the  ani- 
mal, we  can  draw  a  hundred  inferences  concerning 

what 


154        S    E    C    T    I    O    N      XI. 

what  may  be  expefbed  from  him ;  and  thefe  in- 
ferences will  all  be  founded  in  experience  and  ob- 
fervation.  But  did  we  know  man  only  from  the 
fingle  work  or  produdion  which  we  examine,  it 
were  impoflible  for  us  to  argue  in  this  manner ; 
becaufe  our  knowledge  of  all  the  qualities,  which 
we  afcribe  to  him,  being  in  that  cafe  derived  from 
the  production,  it  is  impoffible  they  could  point 
to  any  thing  farther,  or  be  the  foundation  of 
any  new  inference.  The  print  of  a  foot  in  the 
fand  can  only  prove,  when  confidered  alone,  that 
there  was  fome  figure  adapted  to  it,  by  which  it 
was  produced :  But  the  print  of  a  human  foot 
proves  likewife,  from  our  other  experience,  that 
there  was  probably  another  foot,  which  alfo  left 
its  imprefTion,  though  effaced  by  time  or  other  ac- 
cidents. Here  we  mount  from  the  effc6l  to  the 
caufe  ;  and  defcending  again  from  the  caufe,  in- 
fer alterations  in  the  effe6t ;  but  this  is  not  a 
continuation  of  the  fame  fimple  chain  of  reafoning. 
We  comprehend  in  this  cafe  a  hundred  other  ex- 
periences and  obfervations,  concerning  the  ujual 
figure  and  members  of  that  fpecies  of  animal, 
without  v/hich  this  method  of  argument  muft  be 
confidered  as  fallacious  and  fophiftical. 

The  cafe  is  not  the  fame  with  our  reafon* 
ings  from  the  works  of  nature.  The  Deity  is 
known  to  us  only  by  his  productions,  and  is  a 
fingle  being  in  the  univerfe,  not  comprehended 
under  any  fpecies  or  genus,  from  whofe  experien- 
ced attributes  or  qualities,  we  can,  by  analogy, 
infer  any  attribute  or  quality  in  him.  As  the 
univerfe  fhews  wifdom  and  goodnefs,  we  infer 
wifdom  and  goodnefs.  As  it  fhews  a  particular 
degree  of  thefe  perfedlions,  we  infer  a  particular 
degree  of  them,  precifely  adapted  to  the  efied: 
which  we  examine.  But  farther  attributes  or  far- 
ther degrees  of  the  fame  attributes  we  can  ne- 
ver  be   authorifed    to    infer   or   fuppofe,    by    any 

rules 


Of  aPROviDiNCE  and  Future  State.       155 

rules  of  juft  reafoning.  Now,  without  fome  fuch 
licence  of  fuppofition,  it  is  impolllble  for  us  to  » 
argue  from  the  caufe,  or  infer  any  alteration  in 
the  effeft,  beyond  what  has  immediately  fallen 
under  our  obfervation.  Greater  good  produced 
by  this  Being  muft  IHII  prove  a  greater  degree 
of  goodnefs  :  A  more  impartial  diftributioa  of 
rewards  and  punifliments  muft  proceed  from  a 
greater  regard  to  juftice  and  equity.  Every  fup- 
pofed  addition  to  the  works  of  n.iture  makes  an 
addition  to  the  attributes  of  the  Author  of  na- 
ture; and  confequently,  being  entirely  unfup- 
ported  by  any  reafon  or  argument,  can  never 
be  admitted  but  as  mere  conje(5lure  and  hypo- 
thefis  *. 

The  great  fource  of  our  miftake  in  this  fub- 
jecb,  and  of  the  unbounded  licence  of  conjefture, 
which  we  indulge,  is,  that  we  tacitly  confider 
ourfelves,  as  in  the  place  of  the  Supreme  Being, 
and  conclude,  that  he  will,  on  every  occafion, 
obferve  the  fame  condudt,  which  we  ourfelves, 
in  his  fituation,  would  have  embraced  as  reafo- 
nable  and  eligible.  But,  befides  that  the  ordi- 
nary courfe  of  nature  may  convince  us,  that  al- 
moft  every  thing  is  regulated  by  principles  and 
maxims  very  different  from  ours  -,  befides  this,  I 
fay,  it  muft  evidently  appear  contrary  to  all  rules 
of  analogy  to  reafon,  from  the  intentions  and 
projefts  of  men,  to  thofe  of  a  Being  fo  different, 
and  fo  much  fuperior.  In  human  nature,  there 
is  a  certain  experienced  coherence  of  deligns  and 
inclinations ;  fo  that  when,  from  any  fad,  we 
have  difcovered  one  'intention  of  any  man,  it 
may  often  be  reafonable,  from  experience,  to  in- 
fer another,  and  draw  a  lono;  chain  of  conclu- 
fions  concerning  his  paft  or  future  condudl.  But 
this    method   of  reafoning  can  never   have  place 

with 

•  See  NOTE  [M]. 


156  SECTION      XI. 

with  regard  to  a  Being,  fo  remote  and  incom- 
prehenfible,  who  bears  much  lefs  analogy  to  any 
other  being  in  the  univerfe  than  the  fun  to  a 
waxen  taper,  and  who  difcovers  himfelf  only  by 
fome  faint  traces  or  outlines,  beyond  which  we 
have  no  authority  to  afcribe  to  him  any  attribute  or 
perfection.  What  we  imagine  to  be  a  fuperior 
perfe6lion,  may  really  be  adefedt.  Or  were  it  ever 
fo  much  a  perfedlion,  the  afcribing  of  it  to  the 
Supreme  Being,  where  it  appears  not  to  have 
been  really  exerted,  to  the  full,  in  his  works, 
favours  more  of  flattery  and  panegyric,  than  of 
juft  reafoning  and  fouad  philofophy.  All  the  phi- 
lofophy,  therefore,  in  the  world,  and  all  the  reli- 
gion, which  is  nothing  buc  a  fpecies  of  phiiorophy, 
will  never  be  able  to  carry  us  beyond  the  ufual 
courfe  of  experience,  or  give  us  meafures  of  con- 
duct and  behaviour  different  from  thofe  which  are 
furnifhed  by  reflexions  on  common  life.  No  new 
fadl  can  ever  be  inferred  from  the  religious  hypo- 
thefis  j  no  event  forefeen  or  foretold  ;  no  reward 
or  punifhment  expefted  or  dreaded,  beyond  what 
is  already  known  by  pradlice  and  obfervation.  So 
that  my  apology  for  Epicurus  will  ftill  appear  fo- 
lid  and  fatisfadory  j  nor  have  the  political  interefts 
of  fociety  any  connexion  with  the  philofophical 
difputes    concerning  metaphyfics  and  religion. 

There  is  flill  one  circumfl:ance,  replied  I,  which 
you  feem  to  have  overlooked.  Though  I  fhould 
allow  your  premifes,  1  muft  deny  your  conclufi- 
on.  You  conclude,  that  religious  doflines  and 
reafonings  can  have  no  influence  on  life,  becaufe 
they  ought  to  have  no  influence  :  never  confider- 
ing,  that  men  reafon  not  in  the  fame  manner  you 
do,  but  draw  many  confequences  from  the  belief 
of  a  divine  Exifl:ence,  and  fuppofe  that  the  Deity 
will  inflidl  punifliments  on  vice,  and  bcftow  re- 
wards on  virtue,  beyond  what  appear  in  the  or- 
dinary courfe  of  nature.     Whether  this  reafoning 

of 


Of  a  Providence  and  Future  State.       157 

of  theirs  be  juft  or  not,  is  no  matter.  Its  influence 
on  their  life  and  conduft  mull  ilill  be  the  fame. 
And,  thofc,  who  attempt  to  difabufe  them  of  fuch 
prejudices,  may,  for  aught  I  know,  be  good  rcafo- 
ners,  but  I  cannot  allow  them  to  be  good  citizens 
and  politicians ;  fince  they  free  men  from  one  re- 
llraint  upon  their  paffions,  and  make  the  infringe- 
ment of  the  laws  of  fociety,  in  one  refpe6t,  more 
eafy  and  fecure. 

After  all,  1  may,  perhaps,  agree  to  your  gene- 
ral conclufion  in  favour  of  liberty,  though  upon 
different  premlfes  from  thofe,  on  which  you  en- 
deavour to  found  it.  I  think,  that  the  ftate  ought 
to  tolerate  every  principle  of  philofophy;  nor  is 
there  an  inflance,  that  any  government  has  fuffer- 
ed  in  its  political  interefts  by  fuch  indulgence. 
There  is  no  enthufiafm  among  philofophers  j  their 
dottrines  are  not  very  alluring  to  the  people;  and 
no  reftraint  can  be  put  upon  their  reafonings,  but 
what  mud  be  of  dangerous  confequence  to  the 
fciences,  and  even  to  the  Hate,  by  paving  the  way 
for  perfecution  and  oppreffion  in  points,  where  the 
generality  of  mankind  are  more  deeply  interefted 
and  concerned. 

But  there  occurs  to  me  (continued  I)  with  re- 
gard to  yo'rmain  topic,  a  difficulty,  which  I  fhall 
juR  propofe  to  you,  without  infilling  on  it;  left  it 
lead  into  reafonings  of  too  nice  and  delicate  a  nature. 
In  a  word,  I  much  doubt  whether  it  be  poPible 
for  a  caufe  to  be  known  only  by  its  effect  (as  you 
have  all  along  fuppofed)  or  to  be  of  fo  fingular  and 
pat  dcular  a  nature  as  to  have  no  parallel  and  no 
fimilarity  with  any  other  caufe  or  objedl,  that  has 
ever  fallen  under  our  obfcrvation.  It  is  only  when 
two  /pedes  of  objedls  are  found  to  be  conflantly 
conjoined,  that  we  can  infer  the  one  from  the  other; 
and  were  an  effed:  prefented,  which  was  entirely 
fingular,  and  could  not  be  comprehended  under 
any   known  JpecieSi    I  do  not  fee,  that  we  could 

form 


158  SECTION      XI. 

form  any  conje6bure  or  inference  at  all  concerning 
its  caufe.  If  experience  and  obfervation  and  ana- 
logy be,  indeed,  the  only  guides  which  we  can  rea- 
fonably  follow  in  inferences  of  this  nature;  both 
the  effe6b  and  caufe  muft  bear  a  fimilarity  and  refem- 
biance  to  other  effects  and  caufes,  which  we  know, 
and  which  we  have  found,  in  many  inftances,  to  be 
conjoined  with  each  other.  I  leave  it  to  your  own  re- 
fiedtion  to  purfue  the  confequencesof  this  principle. 
I  fhall  juft  obferve,  that,  as  the  antagonifts  of 
Epicurus  always  fuppofe  the  univerfe,  an  effeft 
quite  fingular  and  unparalleled,  to  be  the  proof  of 
a  Deity,  a  caufe  no  lefs  fingular  and  unparalleled  ; 
your  reafonings,  upon  that  fuppofition,  feenn,  at 
leafb,  to  merit  our  attention.  There  is,  I  own, 
fome  difficulty,  how  we  can  ever  return  from  the 
caufe  to  the  effefl,  and,  reafoning  from  our  ideas 
of  the  former,  infer  any  alteration  on  the  latter,  or 
any  addition  to  it. 


SECTION 


(     >59    ) 


SECTION       XIL 


Of  the  Academical  or  Sceptical  Philo- 
sophy. 

PART       I. 

A  HERE  is  not  a  greater  number  of  philofo- 
phical  reafonings,  difplayed  upon  any  fubjetb,  than 
thofe,  which  prove  the  exiftence  of  a  Deity,  and 
refute  the  fallacies  of  Atheifts  j  and  yet  the  moft 
religious  philofophers  ftill  difpute  whether  any 
man  can  be  fo  blinded  as  to  be  a  fpeculative  atheill. 
How  fhall  we  reconcile  thefe  contradidtions  ?  The 
knights-errant,  who  wandered  about  to  clear  the 
world  of  dragons  and  giants,  never  entertained  the 
leaft  doubt  with  regard  to  the  exiftence  of  thefe 
monfters. 

The  Sceptic  is  another  enemy  of  religion,  who 
naturally  provokes  the  indignation  of  all  divines 
and  graver  philofophers  j  though  it  is  certain,  that 
no  man  ever  met  with  any  fuch  abfurd  creature, 
or  converfed  with  a  man,  who  had  no  opinion  or 
principle  concerning  any  fubjeft,  either  of  action 
or  fpeculation.  This  begets  a  very  natural  quef- 
tion ;  What  is  meant  by  a  fceptic  ?  And  how  far  it 
is  pofTible  to  pufh  thefe  philofophical  principles  of 
doubt  and  uncertainty  ? 

There 


i6o  SECTION    fXif. 

There  is  a  fpecies  of  fcepticifm,  antecedent  to  al! 
ftudy  and  philofophy,  which  is  much  inculcated 
by  Des  Cartes  and  others,  as  a  fovereign  preferva- 
tive  againll  error  and  precipitate  judgment.  It 
recommends  an  univerfal  doubt,  not  only  of  all 
our  former  opinions  and  principles,  but  alfo  of 
our  very  faculties  ;  of  whofe  veracity,  fay  they,  we 
muft  aiTure  ourfelves,  by  a  chain  of  reafoning,  de- 
duced from  fome  original  principle,  which  cannot 
poffibly  be  fallacious  or  deceitful.  But  neither  is 
there  any  fuch  original  principle,  which  has  a  pre- 
rogative above  others,  that  are  felf-evident  and 
convincing  :  Or  if  there  were,  could  we  advance 
a  ftep  beyond  it,  but  by  the  ufe  of  thofe  very  fa- 
culties, of  which  we  are  fuppofed  to  be  already 
diffident.  The  Cartefian  doubt,  therefore,  were  it 
ever  polfible  to  be  attained  by  any  human  creature 
(as  it  plainly  is  not)  would  be  entirely  incurable  j 
and  no  reafoning  could  ever  bring  us  to  a  Hate  of 
afiurance  and  conviftion  upon   any  fubjedl. 

It  muft,  however,  be  confefled,  that  this  fpecies 
of  fcepticifm,  when  more  moderate,  may  be  un- 
derftood  in  a  very  reafonable  fenfe,  and  is  a  necef- 
fary  preparative  to  the  ftudy  of  philofophy,  by  pre- 
ferving  a  proper  impartiality  in  our  judgments, 
and  weaning  our  mind  from  all  thofe  prejudices, 
which  we  may  have  imbibed  from  education  or 
rafh  opinion.  To  begin  with  clear  and  felf-evi- 
dent principles,  to  advance  by  timorous  and  fure 
fteps,  to  review  frequently  our  conclufions,  and 
examine  accurately  all  their  confequences;  though 
by  thefe  means  we  fliall  make  both  a  flow  and  a 
fhort  progrefs  in  our  fyftcmsj  are  the  only  me- 
thods, by  which  we  can  ever  hope  to  reach  truth, 
and  attain  a  proper  ftability  and  certainty  in  our 
determinations. 

There    is  another    fpecies   of   fcepticifm,  conje- 
quent  to  fcience  and  enquiry,   when  men  are  fup- 
pofed to  have  difcovered,  either  the  abfolute  fal- 
3  lacioulhefs 


Academical  or  Sceptical  Philosophy.     i6i 

lacioufnefs  of  their  mental  faculties,  or  their  un- 
fitnefs  to  reach  any  fixed  determination  in  all  thofe 
curious  fubjefts  of  fpeculation,  about  which  they 
are  commonly  employed.  Even  our  very  fenfes 
are  brought  into  difpute,  by  a  certain  fpecies  of 
philofophers  ;  and  the  maxims  of  common  life  are 
fubjedted  to  the  fame  doubt  as  the  mofl:  profound 
principles  or  conclufions  of  metaphyfics  and  theo- 
logy. As  thefe  paradoxical  tenets  (if  they  may  be 
called  tenets)  are  to  be  met  with  in  fome  phi- 
lofophers, and  the  refutation  of  them  in  feveral, 
they  naturally  excite  our  curiofity,  and  make  us 
enquire  into  the  arguments,  on  which  they  may 
be  founded. 

I  need  not  infift  upon  the  more  trite  topics, 
employed  by  the  fceptics  in  all  ages,  againft  the 
evidence  o{  Jenje  ;  fuch  as  thofe  which  are  derived 
from  the  imperfedlion  and  fallacioufnefs  of  our  or- 
gans, on  numberlefs  occafions  j  the  crooked  ap- 
pearance of  an  oar  in  water ;  the  various  afpefts  of 
objects,  according  to  their  different  diftancesj  the 
double  images  which  arife  from  the  prefling  one 
eye ;  with  many  other  appearances  of  a  like  na- 
ture. Thefe  fceptical  topics,  indeed,  are  only 
fufficient  to  prove,  that  the  fenfes  alone  are  not 
implicitly  to  be  depended  on  j  but  that  we  mufl: 
corredl  their  evidence  by  reafon,  and  by  con- 
fiderations,  derived  from  the  nature  of  the  me- 
dium, the  diftance  of  the  obje<5t,  and  the  dif- 
pofition  of  the  organ,  in  order  to  render  them, 
within  their  fphere,  the  proper  criteria  of  truth 
and  falfehood.  There  are  other  more  profound 
arguments  againft  the  fenfes,  which  admit  noc 
of  fo  eafy  a  folution. 

It  feems  evident,  that  men  are  carried,  by  a 
natural  inftin6t  or  prepolTelTion,  to  repofe  faith  in 
their  fenfes  ;  and  that,  without  any  reafoning,  or 
even  almoft  before  the  ufe  of  reafon,  we  always 
fuppofe  an  external  univerfe,  which  depends  not  on 

Vol.  II.  M  our 


i62  SECTION      XII. 

our  perception,  but  would  exift,  though  we  and 
every  fenfible  creature  were  abfent  or  annihilated. 
Even  the  animal  creation  are  governed  by  a 
like  opinion,  and  preferve  this  belief  of  exter- 
nal objefts,  in  all  their  thoughts,  defigns,  and 
aftions. 

It  feems  aifo  evident,  that,  when  men  follow 
this  blind  and  powerful  inftindt  of  nature,  they 
always  fuppofe  the  very  images,  prefented  by  the 
fenfes,  to  be  the  external  obje<5ls,  and  never  en- 
tertain any  fufpicion,  that  the  one  are  nothing  but 
reprefentations  of  the  other.  This  very  table, 
which  we  fee  white,  and  which  we  feel  hard,  is 
believed  to  exift,  independent  of  our  perception, 
and  to  be  fomething  external  to  our  mind,  which 
perceives  it.  Our  prefence  beflows  not  being  on 
it :  Our  abfence  does  not  annihilate  it.  It  pre- 
ferves  its  exiftence  uniform  and  entire,  indepen- 
dent of  the  fituation  of  intelligent  beings,  who 
perceive  or  contemplate  it. 

But  this  univerfai  and  primary  opinion  of  all 
men  is  foon  deftroyed  by  the  flighteft  philofophy, 
which  teaches  us,  that  nothing  can  ever  be  pre- 
fent  to  the  mind  but  an  image  or  perception, 
and  that  the  fenfes  are  only  the  inlets,  through 
which  thefe  images  are  conveyed,  without  being 
able  to  produce  any  immediate  intercourfe  be- 
tween the  mind  and  the  obje6b.  The  table,  which 
we  fee,  feems  to  diminifh,  as  we  remove  farther 
from  it :  But  the  real  table,  which  exifts  inde- 
pendent of  us,  fafFers  no  alteration  :  It  was, 
therefore,  nothing  but  its  image,  which  was  pre- 
fent  to  the  mind.  Thefe  are  the  obvious  dic- 
tates of  reafon  j  and  no  man,  who  reflecfts,  ever 
doubted,  that  the  exiftences,  which  we  confider, 
when  we  fay,  this  houfe  and  that  tree,  are  no- 
thing but  perceptions  in  the  mind,  and  fleet- 
ing copies  or  reprefentations  of  other  exiftences, 
which  remain  uniform  and  independent. ' 

So 


Academical  or  ScEPTrcALPHiLosoPHY.     163 

So  far,  then,  are  we  necefTitated  by  reafoning 
to  contradid  or  depart  from  the  primary  inftindts 
of  nature,  and  to  embrace  a  new  fyfteni  with  re- 
gard to  the  evidence  of  our  fenfes.  But  here  phi- 
lofophy  finds  herfelf  extremely  embarraflfed,  when 
fhe  would  juftify  this  new  fyftem,  and  obviate  the 
cavils  and  objecflions  of  the  fceptics.  She  can  no 
longer  plead  the  infallible  and  irrefiftible  inftinft 
of  nature  :  For  that  led  us  to  a  quite  different 
fyftem,  which  is  acknowledged  fallible  and  even 
erroneous.  And  to  juftify  this  pretended  philo- 
fophical  fyftemj  by  a  chain  of  clear  and  convinc- 
ing argument,  or  even  any  appearance  of  argu- 
ment, exceeds  the  power  of  all  human  capa- 
city. 

By  what  argument  can  it  be  proved,  that  the 
perceptions  of  the  mind  muft  be  caufed  by  ex- 
ternal objefts,  entirely  different  from  them,  though 
refembling  them  (if  that  be  poftible)  and  could 
not  arife  either  from  the  energy  of  the  mind  it- 
felf,  or  from  the  fuggeftion  of  fome  invifible  and 
unknown  fpirit,  or  from  fome  other  caufe  ftill  more 
unknown  to  us  ?  It  is  acknowledged,  that,  in  faft, 
many  of  thefe  perceptions  arife  not  from  any  thing 
external,  as  in  dreams,  madnefs,  and  other  dif- 
eafes.  And  nothing  can  be  more  inexplicable 
than  the  manner,  in  which  body  ftiould  fo  operate 
Upon  mind  as  ever  to  convey  an  image  of  itfelf 
to  a  fubftance,  fuppofed  of  fo  different,  and  even 
contrary  a  nature. 

It  is  a  queftion  of  facl,  whether  the  percep- 
tions of  the  fenfes  be  produced  by  external  ob- 
jedls,  refembling  them  :  How  ftiall  this  queftion 
be  determined  ?  By  experience  furcly  ;  as  all  other 
queftions  of  a  like  nature.  But  here  experience 
is,  and  muft  be  entirely  filent.  The  mind  has 
never  any  thing  prcfent  to  it  but  the  percepti- 
ons, and  cannot  poffibly  reach  any  experience  of 
their    connexion    with    objedls.      The   fuppofition 

M  2  of 


164  SECTION      XII. 

of  fuch   a  connexion    is,    therefore,    withotit   any 
foundation  in  reafoning. 

To  have  recourfe  to  the  veracity  of  the  Su- 
preme Being,  in  order  to  prove  the  veracity  of 
our  fenfes,  is  furely  making  a  very  unexpe6led 
circuit.  If  his  veracity  were  at  all  concerned  in 
this  matter,  our  fenfes  would  be  entirely  infalli- 
ble ;  becaufe  it  is  not  pofTible  that  he  can  ever  de- 
ceive. Not  to  mention,  that,  if  the  external 
world  be  once  called  in  queflion,  we  fhall  be  at  a 
lofs  to  find  arguments,  by  which  we  may  prove 
the  exiflence  of  that  Being  or  any  of  his  attri- 
butes. 

This  is  a  topic,  therefore,  in  which  the  pro- 
founder  and  more  philofophical  fceptics  will  al- 
ways triumph,  when  they  endeavour  to  introduce 
an  univerfal  doubt  into  all  fubjeds  of  human  know- 
ledge and  enquiry.  Do  you  follow  the  inftinfts 
and  propenfities  of  nature,  may  they  fay,  in  af- 
fenting  to  the  veracity  of  fenfe  ?  But  thefe  lead 
you  to  believe,  that  the  very  perception  or 
fenfible  image  is  the  external  objedt.  Do  you 
difclaim  this  principle,  in  order  to  embrace  a 
more  rational  opinion,  that  the  perceptions  are 
only  reprefentations  of  fomething  external  ?  You 
here  depart  from  your  natural  propenfities  and 
more  obvious  fentiments;  and  yet  are  not  able 
to  fatisfy  your  reafon,  which  can  never  find  any 
convincing  argument  from  experience  to  prove, 
that  the  perceptions  are  conne6led  with  any  exter- 
nal objedls. 

There  is  another  fceptical  topic  of  a  like  na- 
ture, derived  from  the  moft  profound  philofophy; 
which  might  merit  our  attention,  were  it  requifite 
to  dive  fo  deep,  in  order  to  difcover  arguments  and 
realbnings,  which  can  fo  little  ferve  to  any  feri- 
ous  purpofe.  It  is  univerfally  allowed  by  mo- 
dern enquirers,  that  all  the  fenfible  qualities  of  ob- 

jeds. 


AfcADEMICALOr  SCEPTICAL  PniLOSOPHY.        165 

je(fts,  fuch  as  hard,  fofr,  hot,  cold,  white,  black, 
iffc.  are  merely  fecondary,  and  cxift  not  in  the  ob- 
jefts  themfelves,  but  arc  perceptions  of  the  mind, 
without  any  external  archetype  or  model,  which 
they  reprefent.  If  this  be  allowed,  with  regard  to 
fecondary  qualities,  it  muft  alfo  follow,  with  re- 
gard to  the  fuppofed  primary  qualities  of  extenfion 
and  folidity  ;  nor  can  the  latter  be  any  more  en- 
titled to  that  denomination  than  the  former.  The 
idea  of  extenfion  is  entirely  acquired  from  the 
fenfes  of  fight  and  feeling  ;  and  if  all  the  quali- 
ties, perceived  by  the  fenfes,  be  in  the  mind, 
not  in  the  objeii,  the  fame  conclufion  mult  reach 
the  idea  of  extenfion,  which  is  wholly  dependent 
on  the  fenfible  ideas  or  the  ideas  of  fecondary 
qualities.  Nothing  can  fave  us  from  this  con- 
clufion, but  the  aflerting,  that  the  ideas  of  thofe 
primary  qualities  are  attained  by  AhJlraElion^  an 
opinion,  which,  if  we  exaipin^  it  accurately,  we 
fhall  find  to  be  unintelligible,  and  even  abfurd. 
An  extenfion,  that  is  neither  tangible  nor  vifible, 
cannot  pofiibly  be  conceived  :  And  a  tangible  or 
vifible  extenfion,  v/hich  is  neither  hard  nor  foft, 
biack.  nor  white,  is  equally  beyond  the  reach  of 
Jiuman  conception.  Let  any  man  try  to  conceive 
a  triangle  in  general,  which  is  neither  IJoceles  nor 
Scalenum^  nor  has  any  particular  length  or  pro- 
portion of  fides;  and  he  will  foon  perceive  the  ab- 
furdity  of  all  the  fcholaflric  notions  with  regard  to 
abftradlion  and  general  ideas  *. 

Thus  the  firll  philofophical  ob;c(5lion  to  the 
evidence  of  fenfe  or  to  the  opinion  of  external 
cxiftence  confills  in  this,  that  fuch  an  opinion,  if 
refted  on  natural  inftincft,  is  contrary  to  reafon,  and 
if  referred  to  reafon,  is  contrary  to  natural  inftintft, 
and  at  the  fame  time  carries  no  rational  evidence 
>vith  it,  to  convince  an  impartial  enquirer.     The 

fecond 

*  See  NOTE  [N]. 


i66  SECTION     XIL 

fecond  objeftion  goes  farther,  and  reprefents  this 
opinion  as  contrary  to  reafon  :  at  leaft,  if  it  bcia 
principle  of  reafon,  that  all  fenfible  qualities  are 
in  the  mind,  not  in  the  objed.  Bereave  matter  of 
all  its  intelligible  qualities,  both  primary  and  fe- 
condary,  you  in  a  manner  annihilate  it,  and  leave 
only  a  certain  unknown,  inexplicable  fomethingj 
as  the  caufe  of  our  perceptions  j  a  notion  fo  im- 
perfect, that  no  fceptic  will  think  it  worth  while  to 
contend  againft  it. 

P    A    R    T      II. 

It  may  feem  a  very  extravagant  attempt  of  the 
fceptics  to  deflroy  reafon  by  argument  and  ratioci- 
nation j  yet  is  this  the  grand  fcope  of  all  their  en- 
quiries and  difputes.  They  endeavour  to  find 
objediions,  both  to  our  abftradt  rcafonings,  and 
to  thofe  which  regard  matter  of  fadl  and  exif- 
tence. 

The  chief  objeftion  againft  all  ahJiraEl  reafon- 
ings  is  derived  from  the  ideas  of  fpace  and  time ; 
ideas,  which,  in  common  life  and  to  a  carelefs 
view,  are  very  clear  and  intelligible,  but  when 
they  pafs  through  the  fcrutiny  of  the  profound 
fciences  (and  they  are  the  chief  object  of  thefe 
fciences)  ajfford  principles,  which  feem  full  of 
abfurdity  and  contradiction.  No  prieftly  dogmas, 
invented  on  purpofe  to  tame  and  fubdue  the  re- 
bellious reafon  of  mankind,  ever  fhocked  com- 
mon fenfe  more  than  the  dodrine  of  the  infinite 
divifibility  of  extenfion,  with  its  confequences  ; 
as  they  are  pompoufly  difplayed  by  all  geometri- 
cians and  metaphyficians,  with  a  kind  of  triumph 
and  exultation.  A  real  quantity,  infinitely  lefs 
than  itfelf,  and  fo  on  in  iyijinitum  \  this  is  an  edi- 
fice fo  bold  and  prodigious,  that  it  is  too  weigh- 
ty for  any  pretended  demonftration  to  fupport, 
becaufe   it   fliocks    the  clcareft   and   molt  natural 

principles 


KY,      II 


Academical  or  Sceptical  Philosopmy.     167 

principles  of  human  reafon  *.  But  what  renders 
the  matter  more  extraordinary,  is,  that  thefe  feem- 
ingly  abfurd  opinions  are  fupported  by  a  chain  of 
reafoning,  the  cleared  and  moil  natural ;  nor  is  it 
pofllble  for  us  to  allow  the  premifes  without  ad- 
mitting the  confequences.  Nothing  can  be  more 
convincing  and  fatisfaftory  than  all  the  conclufions 
concerning  the  properties  of  circles  and  triangles  ; 
and  yet,  when  thefe  are  once  received,  how  can 
we  deny,  that  the  angle  of  contact  between  a  cir- 
cle and  its  tangent  is  infinitely  lefs  than  any  refti- 
lineal  angle,  that  as  you  may  encreafe  the  diame- 
ter of  the  circle  in  infinitum,  this  angle  of  coniact 
becomes  ftill  lefs,  even  in  infinitum,  and  that  the  an- 
gle of  contadt  between  other  curves  and  their  tan- 
gents may  be  infinitely  lefs  than  thofe  between  any 
circle  and  its  tangent,  and  fo  on,  in  infinitum  ?  The 
demonftration  of  thefe  principles  feems  as  unex- 
ceptionable as  that  which  proves  the  three  angles  of 
a  triangle  to  be  equal  to  two  right  ones,  though 
the  latter  opinion  be  natural  and  eafy,  and  the 
former  big  with  contradiction  and  abfurdity.  Rea- 
fon here  feems  to  be  thrown  into  a  kind  of  amaze- 
ment and  fufpenfe,  which,  without  the  fuggeftions 
of  any  fceptic,  gives  her  a  difKdence  of  herfelf, 
and  of  the  ground  on  which  fhe  treads.  She  fees  a 
full  light,  which  illuminates  certain  places;  but  that 
light  borders  upon  the  moil  profound  darknefs.  And 
between  thefe  fhe  is  fo  dazzled  and  confounded, 
that  fhe  fcarcely  can  pronounce  with  certainty  and 
alTurance  concerning  any  one  objeft. 

The  abfurdity  of  thefe  bold  determinations  of 
the  abftradt  fciences  feems  to  become,  if  poflible, 
flill  more  palpable  with  regard  to  time  than  exten- 
fion.  An  infinite  number  of  real  parts  of  time, 
pafTing  in  fuccelTion,  and  exhaufted  one  after  ano- 
ther, appears  fo  evident  a  contradiction,  that  no  man, 
one  fhould  think,  whofe  judgment  is  not  corrupted, 
inftead  of  being  improved,  by  the  l'ciences_,  would 
ever  be  able  to  admit  of  is;.  Yet 

t  See    NOTE    [O]. 


i68  SECTION     XII. 

Yet  flill  reafon  muft  remain  reftlefs,  and  un- 
quiet, even  with  regard  to  that  fcepticifm,  to 
which  fhe  is  driven  by  thefe  feeming  abfurdi- 
ties  and  contradiftions.  How  any  clear,  diftind: 
idea  can  contain  circumfcances,  contradidory  to 
itfelf,  or  to  any  other  clear,  diftinft  idea,  is  ab- 
folutely  incomprehenfiblej  and  is,  perhaps,  as 
abfurd  as  any  propofition,  which  can  be  formed. 
So  that  nothing  can  be  more  fceptical,  or  more 
full  of  doubt  and  hefitation,  than  this  fcepticifm 
itfelf,  which  arifes  from  fome  of  the  paradoxical 
conclufions  of  geometry  or  the  fcience  of  quan- 
tity *. 

The  fceptical  obje(5lions  to  moral  evidence,  or 
to  the  reaionings  concerning  matter  of  fadt,  are 
cither  popular  or  philc/cpbical.  The  popular  objec- 
tions are  derived  from  the  natural  weaknefs  of  hu- 
man underftanding;  the  contradidlory  opinions, 
which  have  been  entertained  in  different  ages 
and  nations;  the  variations  of  our  judgment  in 
ficknefs  and  health,  youth  and  old  age,  profpe- 
rity  and  adverfity ;  the  perpetual  contradi(fbion  of 
each  particular  man's  opinions  and  fentiments ; 
with  many  other  topics  of  that  kind.  It  is  need- 
lefs  to  infift  farther  on  this  head.  Thefe  ob- 
jedions  are  but  weak.  For  as,  in  common  life, 
we  reafon  every  moment  concerning  faft  and  exift- 
ence,  and  cannot  pofTibly  fubfift,  without  continu- 
ally employing  this  fpecies  of  argument,  any  po- 
pular objeftions,  derived  from  thence,  mult  be 
infufficient  to  dcftroy  that  evidence.  The  great 
fubverter  of  Pyrrhonlfm  or  the  cxcelTive  principles 
of  fcepticifm,  is  adlion,  and  employment,  and  the 
occupations  of  common  life.  TheJe  principles 
may  flourifli  and  triumph  in  the  fchools ;  where 
it  is,  indeed,  dilficult,  if  not  impoilible,  to  refute 
them.  But  as  foon  as  they  leave  tlie  fnade,  and 
by  the  prefence  of  the  real  objects,  which   acluate 

our 
I  Sec  NOTE  [P]. 


AcADEMiCALOr  Sceptical  Philosophy.    169 

our  pafTions  and  fentiments,  are  put  in  oppofition 
to  the  more  powerful  principles  of  our  nature, 
they  vanilK  like  fmoke,  and  leave  the  moft  de- 
termined fceptic  in  the  fame  condition  as  other 
mortals. 

The  fceptic,  therefore,  had  better  keep  within 
his  proper  fphere,  and  difplay  thofe  philofophical  ob- 
jedions,  which  arife  from  more  profound  refearch- 
cs.  Here  he  feems  to  have  ample  matter  of  tri- 
umph; while  he  juftly  infifts,  that  all  our  evidence 
for  any  matter  of  fa6t,  which  lies  beyond  the  tef- 
timony  of  fenfe  or  memory,  is  derived  entirely 
from  the  relation  of  caufe  and  efFedt ;  that  we 
have  no  other  idea  of  this  relation  than  that  of 
two  objefts,  which  have  been  frequently  conjoined 
together;  that  we  have  no  argument  to  convince 
us,  that  objects,  which  have,  in  our  experience, 
been  frequently  conjoined,  will  likewife,  in  other 
inftances,  be  conjoined  in  the  fame  manner;  and 
that  nothing  leads  us  to  this  inference  but  cuf- 
tom  or  a  certain  inftindt  of  our  nature;  which 
it  is  indeed  difficult  to  refifl,  but  which,  like 
other  inflindbs,  may  be  fallacious  and  deceitful. 
While  the  fceptic  infifts  upon  thefe  topics,  he 
fliews  his  force,  or  rather,  indeed,  his  own  and 
our  weaknefs ;  and  feems,  for  the  time  at  leaft, 
to  deftroy  all  aflurance  and  conviction.  Thefe 
arguments  might  be  difplayed  at  greater  length,  if 
any  durable  good  or  benefit  to  fociety  could 
ever  be   exped;ed  to  refult  from  them. 

For  here  is  the  chief  and  moft  confounding  ob- 
jection to  excejjive  fcepticifm,  that  no  durable  good 
can  ever  refult  from  it;  while  it  remains  in  its 
full  force  and  vigour.  We  need  only  afk  fuch  a 
fceptic,  What  his  meaning  is  ?  And  what  he  propojes 
by  all  thefe  curious  rejearches?  He  is  immediately 
at  a  lofs,  and  knows  not  what  to  anfwer.  A  Co- 
pernican  or  Ptolemaic,  who  fupports  each  his 
different  fyftem  of  aftronomy,  may  hope  to  produce 

a  con- 


ijo  SECTION      XII. 

a  convi(5lion,  which  will    remain  conflant  and  du- 
rable,  with  his  audien.ce.     A  Stoic  or  Epicurean 
difplays  principles,  which  may  not  only  be  durable, 
but  which  have  an  effedl   on   cofidud:   and  beha- 
viour.    But  a  Pyrrhonian  cannot  expe6l,  that  his 
philofophy   will   have    any    conftant   influence   on 
the   mind:  Or  if  it  had,  that  its  influence  would 
be  beneficial   to   fociety.       On    the    contrary,    he 
muft    acknowledge,    if  he  will  acknowledge   any 
thing,  that  all  human   life  muft  perifli,  were  his 
principles  univerfally  and  fteadily  to  prevail.     All 
difcourfe,    all    adtion    would    imm.ediatcly   ceafe ; 
and  men  remain  in   a  total  lethargy,  till  the  ne- 
celTities  of  nature,  unfatisfied,  put   an  end  to  their 
miferable  exiftence.     It  is   true ;  fo  fatal   an  event 
is  very  little    to    be   dreaded.      Nature    is  always 
too  ftrong  for  principle.     And  though  a  Pyrrho- 
nian may  throw  himfelf  or  others  into  a  momen- 
tary  anaazement   and    confufion    by    his  profound 
reafonings ;  the  firfl  and  mofl  trivial   event  in  life 
will  put  to  flight  all  his  doubts   and  fcruples;  and 
leave  him  the   fame  in  every  point  of  adion   and 
fpeculation,  with   the  philofophers  of  every   other 
fed:,    or    with   thofe  who  never  concerned  them- 
felves  in  any  philofophical  refearches.     When  he 
awakes  from   his  dream,    he   will    be  the   firft  to 
join    in    the   laugh   againft   himfelf,    and   to  con- 
fefs,  that  all   his  objections   are  mere  amufement, 
and    can  have    no  other   tendency    than    to    fhow 
the    whiipfical   condition    of  mankind,    who  muft 
ad  and  reafon  and  believe;    though  they  are  not 
able,    by  their    moft  diligent  enquiry,    to   fatisfy 
themfelves    concerning    the    foundation    of    thefe 
'operations,    or  to    remove  the  objections,    which 
may   be  raifed   againft  them. 

PART 


Academical  or  Sceptical  PHiLOSopHy.     171 

PART       III. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  more  mitigated  fcepticifm  or 
academical  philofophy,  which  may  be  both  durable 
and  iifeful,  and  which  may,    in    part,  be  the  re- 
fult  of  this  Pyrrhonifm,  or  excejfive  fcepticifm,  when 
its  undiftinguifhed  doubts  are,  in  fome   meafure, 
corrected  by  common  fenfe  and  reflection.     The 
greater   part  of  mankind  are  naturally  apt  to   be 
affirmative  and  dogmatical  in  their  opinions ;   and 
while    they    fee     objects    only     on  one  fide,  and 
have  no  idea  of  any  counterpofing  argument,  they 
throw  themfelves  precipitately  into  the  principles, 
to  which   they    are  inclined ;    nor   have    they   in- 
dulgence for  thofe  who  entertain   oppofite  fenti- 
ments.     To  hefitate  or  balance  perplexes  their  un- 
derftanding,    checks    their   paffion,    and  fufpends 
their  action.      They  are,  therefore,  impatient  till 
they    efcape   from   a   ftate,    which  to  them  is  fo 
uneafyi    and  they    can    never  remove   themfelves 
far  enough   from  it,  by  the  violence  of  their  af- 
firmations and  obftinacy  of  their  belief.     But  could 
fuch   dogmatical  reafoners  become  fenfible  of  the 
ftrange  infirmities  of  human  underftanding,   even 
in  its    moft  perfect  ftate,    and  when    moft    accu- 
rate and   cautious   in    its    determinations;  fuch    a 
reflection  would  naturally  infpire  them  with  more 
modefty  and  refervc,  and  diminifh  their  fond  opi- 
nion   of   themfelves,    and  their  prejudice   againft 
antagonifts.     The  illiterate  may  reflect  on  the  dif- 
pofition  of  the  learned,  who,  amidft  all   the  ad- 
vantages of    ftudy   and   reflection,    are  common- 
ly ftill  difiident  in  their  determinations:  And  if  any 
of  the  learned  be  inclined,  from  their  natural  tem- 
per, to  haughtinefs  and  obftinacy,  a  fmall  tincture 
of  Pyrrhonifm  might  abate  their  pride,  by  fhewing 
them  that  the  few  advantages,  which  they  may  have 
attained  over  their  fellows,  are  but  inconfiderable, 

if 


172  SECTION       XII. 

if  compared  with  the  univerfal  perplexity  and  con- 
fufion,  which  is  inherent  in  human  nature.  In 
general,  there  is  a  degree  of  doubt,  and  caution, 
and  modefty,  which,  in  all  kinds  of  fcrutiny  and 
decifion,  ought  for  ever  to  accompany  a  juft 
reafoner. 

Another  fpecies  of  mitigated '  (ceipticKmy  which 
may  be  of  advantage  to  mankind,  and  which  may 
be  the  natural  refult  of  the  Pyrrhonian  doubts 
and  fcruples,  is  the  limitation  of  our  enquiries 
to  fuch  fubjefts  as  are  beft  adapted  to  the  nar- 
row capacity  of  human  underftanding.  The  ima- 
gination of  man  is  naturally  fublime,  delighted 
with  whatever  is  remote  and  extraordinary,  and 
running,  without  controul,  into  the  moft  diftant 
parts  of  fpace  and  time  in  order  to  avoid  the 
objeds,  which  cuftom  has  rendered  too  familiar 
to  it.  A  correct  Judgment  obferves  a  contrary 
method,  and  avoiding  all  diftant  and  high  en- 
quiries, confines  itfelf  to  common  life,  and  to  fuch 
fubjefts  as  fall  under  daily  practice  and  experi- 
ence; leaving  the  more  fublime  topics  to  the 
embellifhment  of  poets  and  orators,  or  to  the 
arts  of  priefts  and  politicians.  To  bring  us  to 
fo  falutary  a  determination,  nothing  can  be  more 
ferviceablc,  than  to  be  once  thoroughly  convinc- 
ed of  the  force  of  the  Pyrrhonian  doubt,  and  of 
the  impoflibility,  that  any  thing,  but  the  ftrong 
power  of  natural  inftindt,  could  free  us  from  it. 
Thofe  who  have  a  propenfuy  to  philofophy,  will 
ftill  continue  their  refearches;  becaufe  they  re- 
fled:,  that  befides  the  immediate  pleafure,  attend- 
ing fuch  an  occupation,  philofophical  decifions 
are  nothing  but  the  refledtions  of  common  life, 
methodized  and  correded.  But  they  will  never 
be  tempted  to  go  beyond  common  life,  fo  long 
as  they  confider  the  imperfection  of  thofe  facul- 
ties which  they  employ,  their  narrow  reach,  and 
jdicir   inaccurate   operacions.      While    wc    cannot 

give 


Academical  or  Sceptical  Philosophy.     173 

give  a  fatisfaftory  reafon,  why  we  believe,  after  a 
thoufand  experiments,  that  a  ftone  will  fall,  or 
fire  burn  -,  can  we  ever  fatisfy  ourfelves  concerning 
any  determination,  which  we  may  form,  with  re- 
gard to  the  origin  of  worlds,  and  the  fituation 
of  nature,  from,  and  to  eternity  ? 

This  narrow  limitation,  indeed,  of  our  enqui- 
ries, is  in  every  refped,  lb  reafonable,  that  it  luf- 
fices  to  make  the  flighted  examination  into  the  na- 
tural powers  of  the  human  mind,  and  to  compare 
them  with  their  objedls,  in  order  to  recommend  it 
to  us.  We  fliall  then  find  what  are  the  proper  fub- 
jefts  of  fcience  and  enquiry. 

It  feems  to  me,  that  the  only  objefts  of  the  ab- 
ilradt  fciences  or  of  demonftration  are  quantity  and 
number,  and  that  all  attempts  to  extend  this  more 
perfect  fpecies  of  knowledge  beyond  thefe  bounds 
arc  mere  fophiftry  and  illufion.  As  the  component 
parts  of  quantity  and  number  are  entirely  fimilar, 
their  relations  become  intricate  and  involved  j  and 
nothing  can  be  more  curious,  as  well  as  ufeful,  than 
to  trace,  by  a  variety  of  mediums,  their  equality 
or  inequality,  through  their  different  appearances. 
But  as  all  other  ideas  are  clearly  diftin6l  and  diffe- 
rent from  each  other,  we  can  never  advance  farther, 
by  our  utmoft  fcrutiny,  than  to  obferve  this  di- 
verfity,  and  by  an  obvious  reflediion,  pronounce 
one  thing  not  to  be  another.  Or  if  there  be  any 
difficulty  in  thcfe  decifions,  it  proceeds  entirely 
from  tlie  undeterminate  meaning  of  words,  which 
is  corrected  by  jufter  definitions.  That  tbefquare 
of  the  hypothenufe  is  equal  to  the  fquares  of  the  other 
two  ftdeSj  cannot  be  known,  let  the  terms  be  ever 
fo  exaflly  defined,  without  a  train  of  reafoning  and 
enquiry.  But  to  convince  us  of  this  propofition, 
that  ivhcre  there  is  vo  property ^  there  can  he  no  in- 
jufiicey  it  is  only  neceffary  to  define  the  terms,  and 
explain  injuflice  to  be  a  violation  of  property.  This 
propofition  is,  indeed,  nothing  but  a  more,  imper- 
fect 


174  SECTION      XIL 

fc<5t  definition.  It  is  the  fame  cafe  with  all  thole 
pretended  fyllogiftical  reafonings,  which  nnay  be 
found  in  every  other  branch  of  learning,  except 
the  fciences  of  quantity  and  number;  and  thefe 
may  fafelyj  I  think,  be  pronounced  the  only  pro- 
per objects  of  knowledge  and  demonftration. 

All  other  enquiries  of  men  regard  only  mat- 
ter of  fa6t  and  exiftencej  and  thefe  are  evident- 
ly incapable  of  demonftration.  Whatever  is  may 
not  be^  No  negation  of  a  fa*^:  can  involve  a 
contradiction.  The  non-exiftence  of  any  being, 
without  exception,  is  as  clear  and  diftinft  an  idea 
as  its  exiftence.  The  propofition,  which  affirms 
it  not  to  be,  however  falfe,  is  no  lefs  conceiv- 
able and  intelligible,  than  that  which  affirms  it 
to  be.  The  cafe  is  different  with  the  fciences, 
properly  fo  called.  Every  propofition,  which  is 
not  true,  is  there  confufed  and  unintelligible. 
That  the  cube  root  of  64  is  equal  to  the  half 
of  10,  is  a  falfe  propofition,  and  can  never  be 
diftinftly  conceived.  But  that  Csefar,  or  the  an- 
gel Gabriel,  or  any  being  never  exifted,  may  be 
a  falfe  propofition,  but  ftill  is  perfectly  conceiv- 
able, and  implies  no   contradiftion. 

The  exiftence,  therefore,  of  any  being  can 
only  be  proved  by  arguments  from  its  effect; 
and  thefe  arguments  are  founded  entirely  on  ex- 
perience. If  we  reafon  a  -priorij  any  thing  may 
appear  able  to  produce  any  thing.  The  falling 
of  a  pebble  may,  for  aught  we  know,  extinguiOi 
the  fun;  or  the  wifh  of  a  man  controul  the  planets 
in  their  orbits.  It  is  only  experience,  which 
teaches  us  the  nature  and  bounds  of  caufe  and 
effect,  and  enables  us  to  infer  the  exiftence  of 
one  object  from  that  of  another*.  Such  is  the  foun- 
dation of  moral  reafoning,  which  fonns  the  grea- 
ter part  of  human  knowledge,  and  is  the  fource 
of  all   human   action   and   behaviour. 

Moral 
•  See  NOTE  [  CL]. 


Academical  or  Sceptical  Philosophy.     175 

Moral  reafonlngs  are  either  concerning  par- 
ticular or  general  facts.  All  deliberations  in  life 
regard  the  former;  as  alfo  all  difquifitions  in 
hiftory,    chronology,    geography,   and    aftronomy. 

The  fciences,  which  treat  of  general  facts, 
are  politics,  natural  philofophy,  phyfic,  chymif- 
try,  ^c.  where  the  qualities,  caufes  and  effects 
of  a   whole    fpecies  of  objects  are  enquired  into. 

Divinity  or  Theology,  as  it  proves  the  exif- 
tence  of  a  Deity,  and  the  immortality  of  fouls, 
is  compofed  partly  of  reafonings  concerning  par- 
ticular, partly  concerning  general  facts.  It  has 
a  foundation  in  reajouy  fo  far  as  it  is  fupported 
by  experience.  But  its  befl:  and  mod  folid  foun- 
dation  is  faith    and    divine   revelation. 

Morals  and  criticifm  are  not  fo  properly  ob- 
jects of  the  underllanding  as  of  tafte  and  fentiment. 
Beauty,  whether  moral  or  natural,  is  felt,  more 
properly  than  perceived.  Or  if  we  reafon  concern- 
ing it,  and  endeavour  to  fix  its  ftandard,  we  regard 
a  new  fact,  to  wit,  the  general  tafte  of  mankind, 
or  fome  fuch  fact,  which  may  be  the  object  of  rca- 
foning  and  enquiry. 

When  we  run  over  libraries,  perfuaded  of  thefe 
principles,  what  havoc  muft  we  make?  If  we  take 
in  our  hand  any  volume;  of  divinity  or  fchool  me- 
taphyfics,  for  inftance;  let  us  afk.  Does  it  contain 
any  ahftraEl  reafoning  concerning  quantity  or  number? 
No.  Does  it  contain  any  experimental  reafoning  con- 
cerning matter  of  fa5i  and  exiflence?  No.  Commit 
it  then  to  the  flames :  For  it  can  contain  nothino- 
but  fophiftry  and  illufion. 


(     177     ) 


A 
DISSERTATION 

O  N    T  H  E 

PASSIONS. 


SECT.     I. 


,.S 


OME  objects  produce  immediately  an  agree- 
able fenfation,  by  the  original  flrudure  of  our  or- 
gans, and  are  thence  denominated  Good  ;  as  others, 
from  their  immediate  diiagreeable  fenfation,  ac- 
quire the  appellation  of  Evil.  Thus  moderate 
warmth  is  agreeable  and  good  j  excefllve  heat  pain- 
ful and  evil. 

Some  objects  again,  by  being  naturally  con- 
formable or  contrary  to  paflion,  excite  an  agree- 
able or  painful  fenfation ;  and  are  thence  called 
Good  or  Evil.  The  punifliment  of  an  adverfa- 
^y>  ^y  gratifying  revenge,  is  good  ;  the  ficknefs 
of  a  companion,  by  affetting  friendfhip,  is  evil. 

1.  All  good  or  evil,  whence-evcr  it  arifes,  pro- 
duces various  paffions  and  affedlions,  according 
to    the   light   in    which   it  is  furveyed. 

When  good  is  certain  or  very  probable,  it 
produces  Joy :  When  evil  is  in  the  fame  fitua- 
tion,  there  arifes  Grief  or  Sorrow. 

Vol.11.  N  When 


lyS  A    DiS  SER  TAT  ION 

When  either  good  or  evil  is  uncertain,  it  gives 
rife  to  Fear  or  Hope,  according  to  the  degree 
of  uncertainty  on  one  fide  or  the  other. 

Defire  arifes  from  good  confidered  fimply;  and 
Averfion,  from  evil.  The  Will  exerts  itfelf, 
when  either  the  prefence  of  the  good  or  abfcnce 
of  the  evil  may  be  attained  by  any  a6tion  of  the 
mind  or  body. 

3.  None  of  thefe  pafTions  feem  to  contain  any 
thing  curious  or  remarkable,  except  Ho-pe  and 
Feavy  which,  being  derived  from  the  probability 
of  any  good  or  evil,  are  mixed  pafiions,  that  me- 
rit our    attention. 

Probability  arifes  from  an  oppofition  of  con- 
trary chances  or  caufes,  by  which  the  mind  is 
not  allowed  to  fix  on  either  fide ;  but  is  incef- 
fantly  tofl^ed  from  one  to  another,  and  is  deter- 
mined, one  moment,  to  confider  an  object  as  ex- 
iftent,  and  another  moment  as  the  contrary.  The 
imagination  or  underftanding,  call  it  "which  you 
pleafe,  fiuftuates  between  the  oppofite  views ;  and 
though  perhaps  it  may  be  oftener  turned  to  one 
fide  than  the  other,  it  is  impoffible  for  it,  by 
reafon  of  the  oppofition  of  caufes  or  chances,  to 
reft  on  either.  The  pro  and  co7i  of  the  queftion 
alternately  prevail  ^  and  the  mind,  furveying  the 
objects  in  their  oppofite  caufes,  finds  iuch  a  con- 
trariety as  deftroys  all  certainty  or  eftablifhed  opi- 
nion. 

Suppofe,  then,  that  the  obje6b,  concerning 
which  we  are  doubtful,  produces  either  defire  or 
averfion;  it  is  evident,  that,  according  as  the 
mind  turns  itfelf  to  one  fide  or  the  other,  it  muft 
itt\  a  momentary  imprefllon  of  joy  or  forrow. 
An  objeft,  whofe  exiftence  we  defire,  gives  fa- 
tisfaftion,  when  we  think  of  thofe  caufes,  wliich 
produce  it ;  and  for  the  fame  reafon,  excites  grief 
or  uneafinefs  from  the  oppofite  confideration.  So 
that,  as  the  underftanding,  in  probable  queftions, 

is 


1 


On    the  Passions.  179 

is  divided  between  the  contrary  points  of  view, 
the  heart  mud  in  the  fame  nnanner  be  divided 
between  oppofite  emotions. 

Now,  if  we  confider  the  human  mind,  we 
fliall  obferve,  that,  with  regard  to  the  pafTions, 
it  is  not  like  a  wind  inflrument  of  mufic,  which, 
in  running  over  all  the  notes,  immediately  lofes 
the  found  when  the  breath  ceafes  ;  but  rather  re- 
fembles  a  Itring-inftrument,  where,  after  each 
ftroke,  the  vibrations  ftill  retain  fome  found, 
which  gradually  and  infenfibly  decays.  The  ima- 
gination is  extremely  quick  and  agile ;  but  the 
paflions,  in  comparifon,  are  flow  and  reftive : 
For  which  reafon,  when  any  objedl  is  prefcnted, 
which  affords  a  variety  of  views  to  the  one  and 
emotions  to  the  other ;  though  the  fancy  may 
change  its  views  with  great  celerity;  each  ftroke 
will  not  produce  a  clear  and  diftindt  note  of  palTion, 
but  the  one  paffion  will  always  be  mixed  and  con- 
founded with  the  other.  According  as  the  pro- 
bability inclines  to  good  or  evil,  the  palTion  of 
grief  or  joy  predominates  in  the  com^pofition  i  and 
thefe  paflions  being  intermingled  by  means  of  the 
contrary  views  of  the  imagination,  produce  by  the 
union  the  paflions  of  hope  or  fear. 

4.  As  this  theory  feems  to  carry  its  own  evi- 
dence along  with  it,  we  fhali  be  more  concife  in 
our  proofs. 

The  paflions  of  fear  and  hope  may  arife,  when 
the  chances  are  equal  on  both  fides,  and  no  fu- 
periority  can  be  difcovered  in  one  above  the  other. 
Nay,  in  this  fituation  the  paffions  are  rather  the 
ftrongeft,  as  the  mind  has  then  the  leaft  founda- 
tion to  refl:  upon,  and  is  toft  with  the  greateft  un- 
certainty. Throw  in  a  fuperior  degree  of  proba- 
bility to  the  fide  of  grief,  you  immediately  fee  that 
pafllon  difiufe  itfelf  over  the  compofition,  and  tinc- 
ture it  into  fear.  Encreafe  the  probability,  and  by 
that  means  the  grief;  the   fear  prevails  iiill  more 

N  2  and 


i8o  A   Dissertation 

and  more,  'till  at  lad  it  runs  infenfiblyj  as  the 
joy  continually  diminifhes,  into  pure  grief.  Af- 
ter you  have  brought  it  to  this  fituation,  diminifh 
the  grief,  by  a  contrary  operation  to  that,  which 
encreafed  it,  to  wit,  by  diminifliing  the  probabili- 
ty on  the  melancholy  fide;  and  you  will  fee  the 
paflion  clear  every  moment,  'till  it  changes  infen- 
Iibly  into  hope;  which  again  runs,  by  flow  de- 
grees, into  joy,  as  you  encreafe  that  part  of  the 
compofition,  by  the  encreafe  of  the  probability. 
Are  not  thefe  as  plain  proofs,  that  the  paflions  of 
fear  and  hope  are  mixtures  of  grief  and  joy,  as 
in  optics  it  is  a  proof,  that  a  coloured  ray  of 
the  fun,  pafTing  through  a  prifm,  is  a  compofition 
of  two  others,  when,  as  you  diminifh  or  encreafe 
the  quantity  of  either,  you  find  it  prevail  pro- 
portionably,  more  or  lefs,  in  the  compofition  ? 

5.  Probability  is  of  two  kinds;  either  when  the 
objeft  is  itielf  uncertain,  and  to  be  determined  by 
chance;  or  when,  though  the  object  be  already 
certain,  yet  it  is  uncertain  to  our  judgment, 
which  finds  a  number  of  proofs  or  prefumptions 
on  each  fide  of  the  queflion.  Both  thefe  kinds  of 
probability  caufe  fear  andjhope;  which  muft  pro- 
ceed from  that  property,  in  which  they  agree ; 
namely,  the  uncertainty  and  fludluation  which 
they  beftow  on  the  pafTion,  by  that  contrariety  of 
views,  which  is  common  to   both. 

6.  It  is  a  probable  good  or  evil,  which  com- 
monly caufes  hope  or  fear;  becaufe  probability, 
producing  an  inconftant  and  wavering  furvey  of 
an  objt6t,  occafions  naturally  a  like  mixture  and 
uncertainty  of  pafTion.  But  we  may  obferve,  that, 
wherever,  from  other  caufes,  this  mixture  can  be 
produced,  the  pafTions  of  fear  and  hope  will  arife, 
even  though  there  be   no  probability. 

An  evil,  conceived  as  barely  pojjible^  fomctimes 
produces  fear ;  cfpecially  if  the  evil  be  very 
great.      A  man   cannot   think  on   excefllve   pain 

and 


on  the  Passionts.  i8i 

and  torture  without  trembling;,  if  he  runs  the 
lead  rifque  of  fuffering  them.  The  fmallnefs 
of  the  probability  is  compenfated  by  the  greatnefs 
of  the  evil. 

But  even  impojjible  evils  caufe  fear ;  as  when 
we  tremble  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  though 
we  know  ourfelves  to  be  in  perfeft  fccurity,  and 
have  it  in  our  choice,  whether  we  will  advance  a 
ftep  farther.  The  immediate  prefence  of  the  evil 
influences  the  imagination  and  produces  a  fpecies 
of  belief;  but  being  oppofed  by  the  reflexion  on 
our  fecurity,  that  belief  is  immediately  retraced, 
and  caufes  the  fame  kind  of  palTion,  ns  when, 
from  a  contrariety  of  chances^  contrary  pafTions 
are  produced. 

Evils,  which  are  certain^  have  fometimes  the 
lame  effe(rt  as  the  pofiible  or  impoflible.  A  man, 
in  a  flrong  prifon,  without  the  leafl;  means  of  ef- 
cape,  trembles  at  the  thoughts  of  the  rack,  to 
which  he  is  fentenced.  The  evil  is  here  fixed  in 
itfelf;  but  the  mind  has  not  courage  to  fix  upon 
it;  and  this  fluctuation  gives  rife  to  a  palTion  of  a 
fimilar  appearance  with  fear. 

7.  But  it  is  not  only  where  good  or  evil  is  un- 
certain as  to  its  extftencej  but  alfo  as  to  its  kind, 
that  fear  or  hope  arifes.  If  any  one  were  told  that 
one  of  his  fons  is  fuddenly  killed;  the  paffion, 
occafioned  by  this  event,  would  not  fettle  into 
grief,  'till  he  had  got  certain  information  which 
of  his  fons  he  had  loft.  Though  each  fide  of  the 
queltion  produces  here  the  fame  pafTion ;  that 
pafTion  cannot  fettle,  but  receives  from  tlie  imagi- 
nation, which  is  unfixed,  a  tremulous  unfteady 
motion,  refembling  the  mixture  and  contention  of 
grief  and  joy. 

8.  Thus  all  kinds  of  uncertainty  have  a  ftrong 
connexion  with  fear,  even  though  they  do  not  caufe 
any  oppofition  of  paflions,  by  the  oppofite  views 
which  they  prefent  to  us.     Should  I  leave  a  friend 

in 


i82  A  Dissertation 

in  any  malady,  I  fhould  feel  more  anxiety  upon 
his  account,  than  if  he  were  prefent  j  though  per- 
haps I  am  not  only  incapable  of  giving  him  alTift- 
ance.  but  likewifc  of  judging  concerning  the  event 
of  his  ficknefs.  There  are  a  thoufand  little  cir- 
cumftances  of  his  fituation  and  condition,  which 
I  defire  to  know ;  and  the  knowledge  of  them 
would  prevent  that  fiu6tuation  and  uncertainty, 
fo  nearly  allied  to  fear.  Horace  has  remarked  this 
phsenomenon. 

Ut  ajfidens  implumihus  pullus  avis 

Ser-pentilm  allapfus  timet^ 
Magis  relidis ;  non-^  ut  adfit,  auxili 

Latura  plus  praifentibus. 

A  virgin  on  her  bridal-night  goes  to  bed  (u\\ 
of  fears  and  apprehenfions,  though  Ihe  expedls  no-' 
thing  but  pleafure.  The  confufion  of  wifhes  and 
joys,  the  newncfs  and  greatnefs  of  the  unknown 
event,  fo  embarrafs  the  mind,  that  it  knows 
not  in  what  image   or   pafTion  to  fix  itfelf. 

9.  Concerning  the  mixture  of  afFeftions,  we  may 
remark,  in  general,  that  when  contrary  paflions 
arife  from  objeds  nov/ife  connected  together,  they 
take  place  alternately.  Thus  when  a  man  is  af- 
flidled  for  the  lofs  of  a  law-fuit,  and  joyful  for 
the  birth  of  a  fon,  the  mind,  running  from  the 
agreeable  to  the  calamitous  objed ;  with  what- 
ever celerity  it  may  perform  this  motion,  can 
fcarcely  temper  the  one  affeflion  with  the  other, 
and  remain  between  them  in  a  ftate  of  indifl'erence. 

It  more  eafily  attains  thiit  calm  fituation,  when 
th^Jame  event  is  of  a  mixed  nature,  and  contains 
fomething  adverfe  and  fomething  profperous  in  its 
different  circumilances.  For  in  that  cafe,  both 
the  paflions,  mingling  with  each  other  by  means 
of  the  relation,  often  become  mutually  deftruflive, 
gnd  leave  the  mind  in  perfedl  tranquillity. 

But 


on   the  Passions.  •  183 

But  fupppofe,  that  the  object  is  not  a  compound 
of  good  and  evil,  but  is  confidered  as  probable 
or  improbable  in  any  degree  ;  in  that  cafe,  the 
contrary  paflions  will  both  of  them  be  prefent  at 
once  in  the  foul,  and  inftead  of  balancing  and 
tempering  each  other,  will  fubfifl  together,  and  by 
their  union  produce  a  third  impreflion  or  affedtion, 
fuch  as  hope  or  fear. 

The  influence  of  the  relations  of  ideas  (which 
we  fhall  explain  more  fully  afterwards)  is  plain- 
ly feen  in  this  affair.  In  contrary  paflions,  if 
the  objedts  be  totally  different ^  the  paflions  are  like 
two  oppofite  liquors  in  diff^erent  bottles,  which 
have  no  influence  on  each  other.  If  the  objedls 
be  intimately  conneSfedy  the  paflions  are  like  an  al- 
cali  and  an  acidy  which,  being  mingled,  defl:roy 
each  other.  If  the  relation  be  more  imperfeft, 
and  confifl:  in  the  contraditlory  views  of  the  Jame 
obje(ft,  the  paflions  are  like  oil  and  vinegar,  which, 
however  mingled,  never  perfectly  unite  and  in- 
corporate. 

The  efi^edl  of  a  mixture  of  paflions,  when  one 
of  them  is  predominant,  and  fwallows  up  the  other, 
fliall  be  explained   afterwards. 

SECT.      II. 

I.  Befides  thofe  paflions  above-mentioned,  which 
arife  from  a  direft  purfuit  of  good  and  averfion 
to  evil,  there  are  others  which  are  of  a  more  com- 
plicated nature,  and  imply  more  than  one  view 
or  confideration.  Thus  Fride  is  a  certain  fatif- 
fadlion  in  ourfelves,  on  account  of  fome  accom- 
plifliment  or  poflfeflion,  which  we  enjoy  !  Hu- 
milityy  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  diflTatisfadion  with 
ourfelves,  on  account  of  fome  defe6t  or  infirmity. 

Love  or  Friendjhip  is  a  complacency  in  another, 
on  account  of  his  accomplifhments  or  fervices : 
Hatred^  the   contrary. 

2.  In 


l84  A   DiS  S  ER  T  ATION 

2.  In  thefe  two  fets  of  pafllon,  there  is  an  ob- 
vious difti nation  to  be  made  between  the  obje5l 
of  the  paffion  and  its  caufe.  The  objeft  of  pride 
and  humility  is  felf :  The  caufe  of  the  paffion  is 
fbme  excellence  in  the  former  cafe ;  fome  fault, 
in  the  latter.  The  obje<5l  of  love  and  hatred  is 
fome  other  perfon :  The  caufes,  in  like  manner, 
are  either  excellencies   or  faults. 

With  regard  to  all  thefe  pafTions,  the  caufes  are 
what  excite  the  emotion;  the  objeft  is  what  the 
mind  directs  its  view  to  when  the  emotion  is  ex- 
cited. Our  merit,  for  inftance,  raifes  pride  j  and 
it  is  efTential  to  pride  to  turn  our  view  on  our- 
felves  with  complacency  and  fatisfaftion. 

Now,  as  the  caufes  of  thefe  paflions  are  very 
numerous  and  various,  though  their  objeft  be  uni- 
form and  fimple ;  it  may  be  a  fubject  of  cu- 
riofity  to  confider,  what  that  circumitance  is,  in 
which  all  thefe  various  caufes  agree;  or  in  other 
words,  what  is  the  real  efficient  caufe  of  the 
pafllon.  We  fhall  begin  with  pride  and  humi- 
lity. 

3.  In  order  to  explain  the  caufes  of  thefe  paf- 
fions,  we  muft  refle<5b  on  certain  principles,  which, 
though  they  have  a  mighty  influence  on  every  ope- 
ration, both  of  the  underflianding  and  pafllons, 
are  not  commonly  much  infift:ed  on  by  philofo- 
phers.  The  firfl;  of  thefe  is  the  ajfociation  of  ideas, 
or  that  principle,  by  which  we  make  an  eafy 
tranfltion  from  one  idea  to  another.  However 
uncertain  and  changeable  our  thoughts  may  be, 
they  are  not  entirely  without  rule  and  method 
in  their  changes.  They  ufually  pafs  with  regula- 
rity, from  one  object,  to  what  refembles  it,  is 
contiguous  to  it,  or  produced  by  it  *.  When 
one  idea  is  prefent  to  the  imagination,  any  other, 
united  by  thefe  relations,  naturally  follows  it,  and 

enters 

*  See  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Underftanding,  Sedl.  IIL 


on  the  Passions.  185 

inters  with  more  facility,  by  means  of  that  intro- 
duflion. 

The  fecofid  property,  which  I  fhall  obferve  in  the 
human  mind,  is  a  like  affociation  of  impreffions 
or  emotions.  All  refembling  imprelTions  are  con- 
neded  together;  and  no  fooner  one  arifes,  than 
the  reft  naturally  follow.  Grief  and  difa,^point- 
ment  give  rife  to  anger,  anger  to  envy,  envy  to 
malice,  and  malice  to  grief  again.  In  like  man- 
ner, our  temper,  when  elevated  with  joy,  natu  • 
rally  throws  itfelf  into  love,  gcnerofity,  courage, 
pride,  and  other  refembling  affeftions. 

In  the  third  place,  it  is  obfervable  of  thefe  two 
kinds  of  alTociation,  that  they  very  much  affift  and 
forward  each  other,  and  that  the  tranfition  is  more 
eafily  made,  where  they  both  concur  in  the  fame 
objedt.  Thus,  a  man,  who,  by  an  injiry  received 
from  another,  is  very  much  difcompofed  and 
ruffled  in  his  temper,  is  apt  to  find  a  hundred 
fubjeds  of  hatred,  difcontent,  impatience,  fear, 
and  other  uneafy  pafllons  ;  efpecially,  if  he  can 
difcover  thefe  fubjefts  in  or  near  the  perfon,  who 
was  the  objeft  of  his  firft  emotion.  Thofe  prin- 
ciples, which  forward  the  tranfition  of  ideas,  here 
concur  with  thofe  which  operate  on  the  paflions; 
and  both,  uniting  in  one  aftion,  beftow  on  the 
mind  a  double  impulfe. 

Upon  this  occafion  I  may  cite  a  paffage  from 
an  elegant  writer,  who  expreflfes  himfelf  in  the 
following  manner  * :  "  As  the  fancy  delights  in 
"  every  thing,  that  is  great,  ftrange,  or  beautiful, 
•^^  and  is  ftill  the  more  pleafed  the  more  it  finds 
*'^  of  thefe  perfections  in  tht  Jame  object,  fo  iti  s 
"  capable  of  receiving  new  fatisfa6tion  by  the  af- 
"  fiftance  of  another  fenfe.  Thus,  any  continual 
"  found,  as  the  mufic  of  birds,  or  a  fall  of  waters, 
^'  awakens  every  moment  the    mind    of  the    be- 

"  holder, 

*  Addlfon,  Spedator,  No.  412. 


i86  A  Dissertation 

holder,  and  makes  him  more  attentive  to  thfc 
feveral  beauties  of  the  place,  that  lie  before 
him.  Thus,  if  there  arifes  a  fragrancy  of  fmells 
or  perfumes,  they  heighten  the  pleafure  of  the 
imagination,  and  make  even  the  colours  and 
verdure  of  the  landfcape  appear  more  agreeable ; 
for  the  ideas  of  both  fenfes  recommend  each 
other,  and  are  pleafanter  together  than  where 
they  enter  the  mind  feparately  :  As  the  differ- 
ent colours  of  a  pifture,  when  they  are  well  dif- 
pofed,  fet  off  one  another,  and  receive  an  additi- 
beauty  from  the  advantage  of  the  fituation." 
In  thefe  phasnomena,  we  may  remark  the  affocia- 
tion  both  of  impreffions  and  ideas ;  as  well  as  the 
mutual  affiftance  thefe  affociations  lend  to  each 
other. 

4.  It  feems  to  me,  that  both  thefe  fpecies  of 
relation  have  place  in  producing  Pride  or  Humili- 
ty,  and  are  the  real,  efficient  caufes  of  the  paffion. 

With  regard  to  the  firft  relation,  that  of  ideas, 
there  can  be  no  queftion.  W|iatever  we  are  proud 
of  muft,  in  fome  manner,  belong  to  us.  It  is 
always  our  knowledge,  our  fenfe,  beauty,  poffef- 
fions,  family,  on  which  we  value  ourfelves.  Self, 
which  is  the  obje^  of  the  paffion,  muft  ftill  be 
related  to  that  quality  or  circumftance,  which 
caufes  the  paffion.  There  muft  be  a  connexion 
between  them  ;  an  eafy  tranfition  of  the  imagi- 
nation ;  or  a  facility  of  the  conception  in  paffing 
from  one  to  the  other.  Where  this  connexion 
is  wanting,  no  objedt  can  either  excite  pride  or 
humility;  and  the  more  you  weaken  the  connex- 
ion, the   more  you   weaken   the  paffion. 

5.  The  only  fubjcft  of  enquiry  is,  whether 
there  be  a  like  relation  of  impreffions  or  fenti- 
ments,  wherever  pride  or  humility  is  felt ;  whe- 
ther the  circumftance,  which  caufes  the  paffion, 
previoufiy  excites  a  fentiment  fimilar  to  the  pal- 

fion  i 


on  the   Passions.  187 

fion  ;  and  whether  there  be  any  transfufion  of  the 
one  into  the  other. 

The  feeling  or  fentiment  of  pride  is  agreea- 
ble; of  humility,  painful.  An  agreeable  fenfation 
is,  therefore,  related  to  the  former;  a  painful,  to 
the  latter.  And  if  we  find,  after  examination, 
that  every  objedl:,  which  produces  pride,  pro- 
duces alfo  a  feparate  pleafure ;  and  every  object, 
which  caufes  humility,  excites  in  like  manner  a 
feparate  uneafinefsj  we  mull  allow,  in  that  cafe, 
that  the  prefent  theory  is  fully  proved  and  af- 
certained.  The  double  relation  of  ideas  and  fen- 
timents  will    be  acknowledged  inconteftable. 

6.  To  begin  with  perfonal    merit   and  demerit, 
the  moft  obvious  caufes  of  thefe  pafTions;  it  would 
be   entirely  foreign  to  our  prefent  purpofe  to  ex- 
amine the  foundation  of  moral  diftinctions.     It  is 
fufficient   to    obferve,    that   the    foregoing    theory 
concerning  the  origin  of  the  pallions  may  be  de- 
fended  on   any    hypothefis.      The   moft  probable 
fyftem,  which  has   been    advanced  to  explain  the 
difference  between  vice    and   virtue,    is,    that   ei- 
ther   from    a  primary    conftitution    of  nature,    or 
from  a  fenfe  of  public    or  private    intereft,    cer- 
tain  characters,    upon    the   very    view    and    con- 
templation,     produce     uneafinefs ;      and     others, 
in   like    manner,    excite    x^^^^f^'re.      The  uneafi- 
nefs   and    fatisfaction,    produced    in    the  fpecta- 
tor,  are  effential  to  vice  and  virtue.     To  approve 
of  a  character,  is   to  feel   a  delight  upon  its  ap- 
pearance.    To  difapprove  of  it,  is  to  be  fenfible 
of  an   uneafinefs.     The  pain  and  pleafure,  there- 
fore, being,  in   a  manner,  the  primary  fource  of 
blame  or  praife,  muft   alfo  be    the  caufes  of  all 
their    effects ;    and    confequently,    the    caufes    of 
pride   and  humility,    v/hich   are  the    unavoidable 
attendants  of  that  diftinction. 

But  fuppofing  this  theory  of  morals  fhould  not 
be  received;  it  is  ftill  evident  that  pain  and  plea- 
fure, 


i88  A  Dissertation 

fare,  if  not  the  fources  of  moral  diflinctions,  are 
at  lead  infeparable  from  them.  A  generous  and 
noble  character  affords  a  fatisfaction  even  in  the 
furvey ;  and  when  prefented  to  us,  though  only 
in  a  poem  or  fable,  never  falls  to  charm  and 
delight  us.  On  the  other  hand,  cruelty  and 
treachery  difpleafe  from  their  very  nature ;  nor  is  it 
pofiible  ever  to  reconcile  us  to  thefe  qualities,  ei- 
ther in  ourfelves  or  others.  Virtue,  therefore, 
produces  always  a  pleafure  diftinct  from  the  pride 
or  felf-fatisfaction  which  attends  it :  Vice,  an  un- 
eafinefs  feparate  from  the  humility  or  remorfe. 

But  a  high  or  low  conceit  of  ourfelves  arifes  not 
from  thofe  qualities  alone  of  the  mind,  which, 
according  to  common  fyftems  of  ethics,  have 
been  defined  parts  of  moral  duty ;  but  from  any 
other,  which  have  a  connexion  with  pleafure  or 
iineafinefs.  Nothing  flatters  our  vanity  more  than 
the  talent  of  pleafing  by  our  wit,  good-humour, 
or  any  other  accomplifhment;  and  nothing  gives 
us  a  more  fenfible  mortification,  than  a  difappoint- 
ment  in  any  attempt  of  that  kind.  No  one  has  ever 
.  been  able  to  tell  precifely,  what  zuit  is,  and  to 
fhew  why  fuch  a  fyftem  of  thought  muft  be  receiv- 
ed under  that  denomination,  and  fuch  another  re- 
jefted.  It  is  by  tafte  alone  we  can  decide  con- 
cerning it;  nor  are  we  pofTefl'ed  of  any  other 
ftandard,  by  which  we  can  form  a  judgment  of  this 
nature.  Now  what  is  this  tajie,  froin  which  true 
and  falfe  wit  in  a  manner  receive  their  being,  and 
without  which  no  thought  can  have  a  title  to  either 
of  thefe  denominations  ?  It  is  plainly  nothing  but 
a  fenfation  of  pleafure  from  true  wit,  and  of  difguft 
from  falfe,  without  our  being  able  to  tell  the  reafons 
of  that  fatisfaftion  or  uneafinefs.  The  power  of  ex- 
citing thefe  oppofite  fenfations  is,  therefore,  the  ve- 
ry eflfence  of  true  or  falfe  wit ;  and  confequently, 
the  caufe  of  that  vanity  or  mortification,  which 
arifes  from  one  or  the  other. 

7.  Beauty 


on  the  Passions.  189 

7.  Beauty  of  all  kinds  gives  us  a  peculiar  de- 
light and  fatisfadlion  ;  as  deformity  produces  pain, 
upon  whatever  fubjedl  it  may  be  placed,  and  whe- 
ther furveyed  in  an  animate  or  inanimate  objeft. 
If  the  beauty  or  deformity  belong  to  our  own  face, 
fhape,  or  perfon,  this  pleafure  or  uneafinefs  is  con- 
verted into  pride  or  humility;  as  having  in  this 
cafe  all  the  circumftances  requifite  to  produce  a 
perfedt  tranfition,  according  to  the  prefent  theory. 

It  would  feem,  that  the  very  effence  of  beauty 
confifts  in  its  power  of  producing  pleafure.  All 
its  effedls,  therefore,  mufl  proceed  from  this  cir- 
cumftance :  And  if  beauty  is  fo  univerfally  the 
fubjed  of  vanity,  it  is  only  from  its  being  the  caufe 
of  pleafure. 

Concerning  all  other  bodily  accompli fliments, 
we  may  obferve  in  general,  that  whatever  in  our- 
fdves  is  either  ufeful,  beautiful,  or  furprizing,  is 
an  objeft  of  pride  -,  and  the  contrary  of  humility. 
Thefe  qualities  agree  in  producing  a  feparate  plea- 
fure :   and  ag;ree  in  nothino;  eife. 

We  are  vain  of  the  furprizing  adventures  which 
we  have  met  with,  the  efcapes  which  we  have 
made,  the  dangers  to' which  we  have  been  expofed  : 
as  well  as  of  our  furprifing  feats  of  vigour  and  ac- 
tivity. Hence  the  origin  of  vulgar  lying ;  where 
men,  without  any  intereft,  and  merely  out  of  va- 
nity, heap  up  a  number  of  extraordinary  events, 
which  are  either  the  fi6lions  of  their  brain;  or,  if 
true,  have  no  connexion  with  themfelvcs.  Their 
fruitful  invention  fupplies  them  with  a  variety 
of  adventures  j  and  where  that  talent  is  wanting, 
they  appropriate  fuch  as  belong  to  others,  in  or- 
der to  gratify  their  vanity  :  For  between  that  paf- 
fion,  and  the  fentiment  of  pleafure,  there  is  always 
a  clofe  connexion. 

8.  But  though  pride  and  humility  have  the  qua- 
lities of  our  mind  and  body,  that  is,  of  felf,  for 
their  natural  and  more  immediate  caufes;  v/e  find 

by 


190  A   Dissertation 

by  experience,  that  many  other  objefts  produce 
thefe  affedlions.  We  found  vanity  upon  houfes, 
gardens,  equipage,  and  other  external  objefts  j 
as  well  as  upon  perfonal  merit  and  accomplifli- 
ments.  This  happens  when  external  objefts  ac- 
quire any  particular  relation  to  ourfelves,  and  are 
aflfociated  or  connected  with  us.  A  beautiful  fifh 
in  the  ocean,  a  well-proportioned  animal  in  a  foreft, 
and  indeed,  any  thing,  which  neither  belongs  nor 
is  related  to  us,  has  no  manner  of  influence  on  our 
vanity ;  whatever  extraordinary  qualities  it  may 
be  endowed  with,  and  whatever  degree  of  far- 
prize  and  admiration  it  may  naturally  occafion. 
It  mufl  be  fomeway  aflbciated  with  us,  in  order 
to  touch  our  pride.  Its  idea  muft  hang,  in  a 
manner,  upon  that  of  ourfelves;  and  the  tranfition 
from  one  to  the  other  muft  be  eafy  and  natural. 

Men  are  vain  of  the  beauty  either  of  their 
country,  or  even  of  their  parifh.  Here  the 
idea  of  beauty  plainly  produces  a  pleafure. 
This  pleafure  is  related  to  pride.  The  object  or 
caufe  of  this  pleafure  is,  by  the  fuppofition,  relat- 
ed to  felf,  the  objeft  of  pride.  By  this  double  re- 
lation of  fentiments  and  ideas,  a  tranfition  is  made 
from  one  to  the  other. 

Men  are  alfo  vain  of  the  happy  temperature  of 
the  climate,  in  which  they  are  born  ;  of  the  ferti- 
lity of  their  native  foil  ;  of  the  goodnefs  of  the 
wines,  fruits,  or  victuals,  produced  by  it  ;  of 
the  foftnefs  or  force  of  their  language,  with 
other  particulars  of  that  kind.  Tiiefe  objefts 
have  plainly  a  reference  to  the  pleafures  of  fcnfe, 
and  are  originally  confidered  as  agreeable  to  the 
feeling,  talte  or  hearing.  How  could  they  be- 
come caufes  of  pride,  except  by  means  of  that 
tranfition  above  explained  ? 

There  are  fomc,  who  dilcover  a  vanity  of  an 
oppofite  kind,  and  affedt  to  depreciate  their  own 
country,  in   comparifon  of  thofe,   to   which    they 

have 


on  the  Passions.  191 

have  travelled.  Thefe  perfons  find,  when  they 
are  at  home,  and  furrounded  with  their  country- 
men, that  the  ftrong  relation  between  them  and 
their  own  nation  is  ihared  with  (o  many,  that  it 
is  in  a  manner  loft  to  them  ;  whereas,  that  diftanc 
relation  to  a  foreign  country,  which  is  formed  by 
their  having  feen  it,  and  lived  in  it,  is  augmented 
by  their  confidering  how  few  have  done  the  fame. 
For  this  reafon,  they  always  admire  the  beauty, 
utility,  and  rarity  of  what  they  met  with  abroad, 
above  what  they  find  at  home. 

Since  we  can  be  vain  of  a  country,  climate  or 
any  inanimate  obje6t,  which  bears  a  relation  to 
us  ;  it  is  no  wonder  we  fhould  be  vain  of  the 
qualities  of  thofe,  who  are  connedted  with  us  by 
blood  or  friendfhip.  Accordingly  we  find,  that 
any  qualities  which,  when  belonging  to  ourfelves, 
produce  pride,  produce  alfo,  in  a  lefs  degree,  the 
fame  affection,  when  difcovered  in  perfons,  relat- 
ed to  us.  The  beauty,  addrefs,  merit,  credit, 
and  honours  of  their  kindred  are  carefully  dif- 
played  by  the  proud,  and  are  confiderable  four- 
ces  of  their  vanity. 

As  we  are  proud  of  riches  of  ourfelves,  we 
defire,  in  order  to  gratify  our  vanity,  that  every 
one  who  has  any  connexion  with  us,  fhould  like- 
wife  be  poflelTed  of  them,  and  are  afhamed  of  fuch 
as  are  mean  or  poor  among  our  friends  and  re- 
lations. Our  forefathers  being  regarded  as  our 
nearcft  relations;  every  one  naturally  affcd:*  to 
be  of  a  good  family,  and  to  be  defcended  from 
a  long  fuccelTion  of  rich  and  honourable  ancef- 
tors. 

Thofe,  who  boaft  of  the  antiquity  of  their  fa- 
milies, are  glad  when  they  can  join  this  circum- 
ftance,  that  their  anceftors,  for  many  generations, 
have  been  uninterrupted  proprietors  of  the  fame 
portion  of  land,  and  that  their  family  has  never 
changed  its  pofTeflions,  or  been  tranfplanted  into 

any 


192  A  Dissertation 

any  other  country  or  province.  It  is  an  additi- 
onal fubjeft  of  vanity,  when  they  can  boaft,  that 
thefe  pofTeflions  have  been  tranfmitted  through  a 
defcent,  compofed  entirely  of  males,  and  that  the 
honours  and  fortune  have  never  paflTed  through  any 
female.  Let  us  endeavour  to  explain  thefe  phse- 
nomena  from  the  foregoing  theory. 

When  any  one  values  himfelf  on  the  antiquity 
of  his  family,  the  fubjecls  of  his  vanity  are  not 
merely  the  extent  of  time  and  number  of  anceflors 
(for  in  that  refpedt  all  mankind  are  alike),  but 
thefe  circumftances,  joined  to  the  riches  and  cred- 
it of  his  anceflors,  which  are  fuppofed  to  reflecl 
a  luflre  on  himfelf,  upon  account  of  his  connexi- 
on with  them.  Since  therefore  the  pafllon  de- 
pends on  the  connexion,  whatever  flrengthens  the 
connexion  mufl  alfo  encreafe  the  pafTion,  and 
whatever  weakens  the  connexion  muft  diminifh 
the  pafTion.  But  it  is  evident,  that  the  fame- 
nefs  of  the  polTefTions  muft  ftrengthen  the  rela- 
tion of  ideas,  arifing  from  blood  and  kindred, 
and  convey  the  fancy  with  greater  facility  from 
one  generation  to  another;  from  the  remoteft  an- 
ceftors  to  their  pofterity,  who  are  both  their  heirs 
and  their  defcendants.  By  this  facility,  the  fenti- 
ment  is  tranfmitted  more  entire,  and  excites  a 
greater  degree  of  pride  and  vanity. 

The  cafe  is  the  fame  with  the  tranfmiilion  of 
the  honours  and  fortune,  through  a  fucceflion 
of  males,  without  their  palling  through  any  fe- 
male. It  is  an  obvious  quality  of  human  na- 
ture, that  the  imagination  naturally  turns  to  what- 
ever is  important  and  confiderable  -,  and  where 
two  objedls  are  prefented,  a  fmall  and  a  great,  it 
ufually  Jeaves  the  former,  and  dwells  entirely  on 
the  latter.  This  is  the  reafon,  why  children  com- 
monly bear  their  father's  name,  and  are  efteemed 
to  be  of  a  nobler  or  meaner  birth,  according  to  his 
family.     And  though  the  mother  fhould  be  poiTef- 

fed 


on  the  Passions.  193 

fed  of  fiiperior  qualities  to  the  father,  as  often  hap- 
pens, the  g^fieral  rule  prev2i'i\Sy  notwithltanding  the 
exception,  according  to  the  doiSlrine,  which  fhall 
be  explained  afterwards.  Nay,  even  when  a  fu- 
periority  of  any  kind  is  fo  great,  or  when  any  other 
reafons  have  fuch  an  effect,  as  to  make  the  chil- 
dren rather  reprefent  the  mother's  family  than  the 
father's,  the  general  rule  (till  retains  an  efficacy, 
fufficient  to  weaken  the  relation,  and  make  a  kind 
of  breach  in  the  line  of  anceftors.  The  imagina- 
tion runs  not  along  them  with  the  fame  facility, 
nor  is  able  to  transfer  the  honour  and  credit  of  the 
anceftors  to  their  pofterity  of  the  fame  name  and 
family  fo  readily,  as  when  the  tranfition  is  confor- 
mable to  the  general  rule,  and  pafles  through  the 
male  line,  from  father  to  fon,  or  from  brother  to 
brother. 

9.  But  property^  as  it  gives  us  the  fulleft  power 
and  authority  over  any  object,  is  the  relation,  which 
has  the  greateft  influence  on   thefe  paflions  *. 

Every  thing,  belonging  to  a  vain  man,  is  the 
beR  that  is  any  where  to  be  found.  His  houlcs, 
equipage,  furniture,  cloaths,  horfes,  hounds,  excel 
all  others  in  his  conceit  ;  and  it  is  eafy  to  obfefve, 
that,  from  the  leait  advantage  in  any  of  thefe 
he  draws  a  new  fubjed:  of  pride  and  vanity.  His 
wine,  if  you  will  believe  him,  has  a  finer  flavour 
than  any  other;  his  cookery  is  more  exquifitej  his 
table  more  orderly  5  his  fervants  more  expert ; 
the  air,  in  which  he  lives,  more  healthful  ;  the 
foil,  which  he  cultivates,  more  fertile;  his  fruits 
ripen  earlier,  and  to  greater  perfection  :  Such  a 
thing  is  remarkable  for  its  novelty;  fuch  another 
for  its  antiquity  :  This  is  the  workmanlhip  of  a 
tamous  artift ;  that  belonged  once  to  fuch  a  prince 
or  great  man.  All  objects,  in  a  word,  which  are 
ufeful,  beautiful,  or  furprizing,   or  are  related  to 

Vol.  II.  O  fuch, 

*  Sec  NOTE  [R]. 


1 94  ADiSSERTATlON 

fuch,  may,  by  means  of  property,  give  rife  to  this 
pafTion.  Thefe  all  agree  in  giving  pleafure.  This 
alone  is  common  to  them  ;  and  therefore  muft  be 
the  quality,  that  produces  the  paffion,  which  is 
their  common  efFeft.  As  every  new  inftance  is  a 
new  argument,  and  as  the  inftances  are  here  with- 
out number ;  it  would  feem,  that  this  theory  is 
fufficiently  confirmed  by  experience. 

Riches  imply  the  power  of  acquiring  whatever 
is  agreeable  ;  and  as  they  comprehend  many  par- 
ticular objefts  of  vanity,  neceflarily  become  one 
of  the  chief  caufes  of  that  pafTion. 

lo.  Our  opinions  of  all  kinds  are  ftrongly  af- 
fedled  by  fociety  and  fympathy,  and  it  is  almoft 
impoflible  for  us  to  fupport  any  principle  or  fenti- 
ment,  againft  the  univerfal  confent  of  every  one, 
with  whom  we  have  any  friendfhip  or  correfpon- 
dence.  But  of  all  our  opinions,  thofe,  which  we 
form  in  our  own  favour,  however  lofty  or  prc- 
fuming;  are,  at  bottom,  the  fraileft,  and  the  moft 
eafily  fhaken  by  the  contradidlion  and  oppofition 
of  others.  Our  great  concern,  in  this  cafe,  makes 
us  foon  alarmed,  and  keeps  our  paflions  upon  the 
watch  :  Our  confcioufnefs  of  partiality  ftill  makes 
us  dread  a  miftake :  And  the  very  difficulty  of 
judging  concerning  an  objeft,  which  is  never  fet  at 
a  due  diftance  from  us,  nor  is  feen  in  a  proper 
point  of  view,  makes  us  hearken  anxioufly  to  the 
opinions  of  others,  who  are  better  qualified  to  form 
juft  opinions  concerning  us.  Hence  that  ftrong 
love  of  fame,  with  which  all  mankind  are  poflefled. 
It  is  in  order  to  fix  and  confirm  their  fiivourablc 
opinion  of  themfelves,  not  from  any  original 
paflion,  that  they  feek  the  applaufes  of  others. 
And  when  a  man  defires  to  be  prailcd,  it  is  for  the 
fame  reafon,  that  a  beauty  is  pleafed  with  furveying 
hcrfelf  in  a  favourable  looking-glafs,  and  feeing 
ihe  reflection  of  her  own  charms. 

Though 


on  the   Passions.  195 

Though  it  be  difficult,  in  all  points  of  fpecula- 
tion,  to  diftinguifli  a  caufe,  which  encreafes  an  ef- 
{e£ty  from  one,  which  folely  produces  it  j  yet  in 
the  prefent  cafe  the  phasnoniena  feem  pretty  ftrong 
and  fatisfadlory  in  confirmation  of  the  foregoing 
principle. 

We  receive  a  much  greater  fatisfaftion  from  the 
approbation  of  thofe  whom  weourfelves  elleem  and 
approve  of,  than  of  thofe  whom  we  contemn  and 
defpife. 

When  efteem  is  obtained  after  a  long  and  inti- 
mate acquaintance,  it  gratifies  our  vanity  in  a  pe- 
culiar manner. 

The  fuffrage  of  thofe,  who  are  fhy  and  backward 
in  giving  praife,  is  attended  with  an  additional  re- 
lifh  and  enjoyment,  if  we  can  obtain  it  in  our  favour. 

Where  a  great  man  is  delicate  in  his  choice  of  fa- 
vourites, every  one  courts  with  greater  earneftnefs 
his  countenance  and  proteftion. 

Praife  never  gives  us  much  pleafure,  unlefs  it 
concur  with  our  own  opinion,  and  extol  us  for  thofe 
qualities,  in  which  we  chiefly  excel. 

Thefe  phasnomena  feem  to  prove,  that  the  fa- 
vourable fuffrages  of  the  world  are  regarded  only 
as  authorities,  or  confirmations  of  our  own  opinion. 
And  if  the  opinions  of  others  have  more  influence  in 
this  fubjed:  than  in  any  other,  it  is  eafily  account- 
ed for  from  the  nature  of  the  fubjeft. 

II.  Thus  fev7  objefls,  however  related  to  us, 
and  whatever  pleafure  they  produce,  are  able  to 
excite  a  great  degree  of  pride  or  felf-fatisfaftion  j 
unlefs  they  be  alfo  obvious  to  others,  and  engage 
the  approbation  of  the  fpeftators.  What  difpofi- 
tion  of  mind  fo  defirable  as  the  peaceful,  refigned, 
contented  ;  which  readily  fubmits  to  all  the  dif- 
penfations  of  providence,  and  preferves  a  conftant 
ferenity  amidft  the  greateft  misfortunes  and  difap- 
pointments  ?  Yet  this  difpofition,  though  acknow- 
ledged to  be  a  virtue  or  excellence,  is  feldom  the 
O  a  foundation 


196  ^A   Dissertation 

foundation  of  great  vanity  or  felf-applaufej  having 
no  brilliancy  or  exterior  liiftre,  and  rather  cheer- 
ing the  heart,  than  animating  the  behaviour  and 
converfation.  The  cafe  is  the  fame  with  many 
other  qualities  of  the  mind,  body,  or  fortune;  and 
this  circumftance,  as  well  as  the  double  relations 
above  mentioned,  mull  be  admitted  to  be  of  con- 
fequence  in  the  produ6lion  of  thefe  pafTions. 

A  fecond  circumftance,  which  is  of  confequence 
in  this  affair,  is  the  conftancy  and  durablenefs  of 
the  objeft.  What  is  very  cafual  and  inconftant, 
beyond  the  common  courfe  of  human  affairs,  gives 
little  joy,  and  lefs  pride.  We  are  not  much  fatis- 
fied  with  the  thing  itfelf;  and  are  ftill  lefs  apt  to 
feel  any  new  degree  of  felf-fatisfaftion  upon  its  ac- 
count. We  forefee  and  anticipate  its  change  ;  which 
makes  us  little  fatisfied  with  the  thing  itfelf :  We 
compare  it  to  ourfelves,  whofe  exiftence  is  more 
durable  ;  by  which  means  its  inconftancy  appears 
ftill  greater.  It  feems  ridiculous  to  make  ourfelves 
the  obje6l  of  a  pafTion,  on  account  of  a  quality  or 
pofTelTion,  which  is  of  fo  much  fhorter  duration, 
and  attends  us  during  fo  fmaii  a  part  of  our  exif- 
tence. 

A  third  circumftance,  not  to  be  neglefted,  is  that 
the  objefts,  in  order  to  produce  pride  or  feif-value, 
muft  be  peculiar  to  us,  or  at  leaft  common  to  us 
with  a  few  others.  The  advantages  of  fun-fhine, 
good  weather,  a  happy  climate,  &c.  diftinguilh  us 
not  from  any  of  our  companions,  and  give  us  no 
preference  or  fuperiority.  The  comparifon,  which 
we  are  every  moment  apt  to  make,  prefents  no  in- 
ference to  our  advantage  -,  and  we  ftill  remain, 
notwithftanding  thefe  enjoyments,  on  a  level  with 
all  our  friends  and  acquaintance. 

As  health  and  ficknefs  vary  inceffantly  to  all 
men,  and  there  is  no  one,  who  is  folely  or  certainly 
fixed  in  either;  thefe  accidental  bleflings  and  cala- 
niitics  are  in  a  manner  feparated  from  us,   and  are 

not 


on  the    Passions.  197 

not  confidered  as  a  foundation  for  vanity  or  humi- 
liation. But  wherever  a  malady  of  any  kind  is  fo 
rooted  in  our  conftitution,  that  we  no  longer  en- 
tertain any  hope  of  recovery,  from  that  moment  it 
damps  our  felf-conceit,  as  is  evident  in  old  men, 
whom  nothing  mortiMcs  more  than  the  confidera- 
tion  of  their  age  and  infirmities.  They  endeavour, 
as  long  as  pollible,  to  conceal  their  blindnefs  and 
deafnels,  their  rheums  and  gouts;  nor  do  they  ever 
avow  them  without  relucftance  and  uneafinefs. 
And  though  young  men  are  not  afhamed  of  every 
head-ach  or  cold  which  they  fall  into;  yet  no  to- 
pic is  more  proper  to  mortify  human  pride,  and 
make  us  entertain  a  mean  opinion  of  our  nature, 
than  this,  that  we  are  every  moment  of  our  lives 
fubjedt  to  fuch  infirmities.  This  proves,  that  bodi- 
ly pain  and  ficknefs  are  in  themfelves  proper 
caufes  of  humility  ;  though  the  cufliom  of  ellimat- 
ing  every  thing,  by  comparifon,  more  than  by  its 
intrinfic  worth  and  value,  makes  us  overlook  thofe 
calamities,  which  we  find  incident  to  every  one, 
and  caufes  us  to  form  an  idea  of  our  merit  and  cha- 
ra6ler,  independent  of  them. 

We  are  afham.ed'  of  fuch  maladies  as  afFeft 
others,  and  are  either  dangerous  or  difagreeable 
to  them.  Of  the  epilepfy  ;  becaufe  it  gives  a 
horror  to  every  one  prefent :  Of  the  itch;  becaufe 
it  is  infeftious :  Of  the  king's  evil;  becaufe  it  of- 
ten goes  to  pofterity.  Men  always  confider  the 
fentiments  of  others  in  their  judgm.ent  of  them- 
felves. 

A  fourth  circumftance,  which  has  an  influence 
on  thefe  palTions,  is  general  rules ;  by  which  v/e 
form  a  notion  of  different  ranks  of  men,  fuitably 
to  the  power  or  riches  of  which  they  an-t  poffefTed ; 
and  this  notion  is  not  changed  by  any  peculiarities 
of  the  health  or  temper  of  the  perfons,  which  may 
deprive  them  of  all  enjoyment  in  their  pofTefllons. 
Cuftom  readily  carries  us  beyond  the  jujI  -bounds  in 
our  pafTions,  as  well  as  in  our  reafonings  It 


198  A  Dissertation 

It  may  not  be  amifs   to  obferve  on  this  occa- 
fion,  that  the  influence  of  general  rules  and  max- 
ims  on  the  paffions  very  much  contributes  to  fa- 
cilitate the  effects  of  all  the   principles  or  inter- 
nal  mechanifm,    which   we   here  explain.     For  it 
feems  evident,  that,  if  a  perfon  full  grown,  and  of 
the  fame  nature  with  ourfelves,    v/ere  on   a  fud- 
den   tranfported    into   our    world,    he    would     be 
much      embarraffed     with     every      objeft,      and 
would    not     readily    determine    what    degree     of 
Jove   or   hatred,    of  pride  or  humility,  or   of  any 
other  paffion  Ihould  be  excited  by  it.     The  paf- 
fions   are    often   varied    by     very     inconfiderable 
principles;    and    thefe    do  not   always   play  v/ith 
perfeft    regularity,    efpecially    on    the    firft    trial. 
But  as  cuftom   or  pradice    has  brought   to  light 
all   thefe   principles,  and  has  fettled  the  juft   va- 
lue  of  every   thing;    this    muil    certainly    contri- 
bute  to  the  eafy  produftion  of  the  paffions,  and 
guide  us,  by  means  of  general  eflablilhed   rules, 
in  the  proportions,    which    we  ought  to  obferve 
in   preferring  one  objeft    to   another.      This   re- 
mark may,  perhaps,   ferve  to  obviate  difficulties, 
that  may  arife  concerning  fome  caufes,  which  we 
here    afcribe   to    particular  paffions,    and     which 
may  be  efteemed   too   refined  to    operate  fo  uni- 
verfally   and   certainly,  as  they    are  found  to    do. 

PART       III. 

M.  In  running  over  all  the  caufes,  which  pro- 
duce the  paffion  of  pride  or  that  of  humility; 
it  would  readily  occur,  that  tiie  fame  circumllance, 
if  transferred  from  ourfelves  to  another  pt*rfon, 
would  render  him  the  object  of  love  or  hatred, 
efteem  or  contempt.  The  virtue,  genius,  beauty, 
family,  riches,  and  authority  of  others  beget  fa- 
vourable fentiments  in  their  behalf;  and  their 
vice,  folly,  deformity,  poverty,  and  meannefs  ex- 
cite the  contrary  fentiments.  The  double  rela- 
tion 


on  the  Passions.  199 

tion  of  imprefllons  and  ideas  ft'll  operates  on 
thefc  paflions  of  love  and  hatred  -,  as  on  the  for- 
mer of  pride  and  humility.  Whatever  gives  a 
feparate  pleafure  or  pain,  and  is  related  to  ano- 
ther perfon  or  conneded  with  him,  makes  him 
the  object  of  our  affe6lion  or  difguft. 

Hence  too  injury  or  contempt  towards  us  is 
one  of  the  greateft  Iburces  of  our  hatred  j  fcr- 
vices  or  efteem,  of  our  friendfhip. 

2.  Sometimes  a  relation  to  ourfelves  excites 
affedion  towards  any  perfon.  But  there  is  al- 
ways here  implied  a  relation  of  fentiments,  with- 
out which  the  other  relation  would  have  no  in- 
fluence*, 

A  perfon,  who  is  related  to  us,  or  connected  with 
us,  by  blood,  by  fimilitude  of  fortune,  of  adventures, 
profelTion,  or  country,  foon  becomes  an  agree- 
able companion  to  us  j  becaufe  we  enter  eafily 
and  familiarly  into  his  fentiments  and  concepti- 
ons: Nothinsr  is  Itrano-e  or  new  to  us:  Our  ima- 
gination,  pafTing  from  felf,  which  is  ever  inti- 
mately prefent  to  us,  runs  fmoothly  along  the 
relation  or  connexion,  and  conceives  with  a  full 
fympathy  the  perfon,  who  is  nearly  related  to 
felf.  He  renders  himfelf  immediately  accepta- 
ble, and  is  at  once  on  an  eafy  footing  with  us: 
No  diftance,  no  referve  has  place,  where  the  per- 
fon introduced  is  fuppofed  fo  clofely  conneded 
with  us. 

Relation  has  here  the  fame  influence  as  cuf- 
tom  or  acquaintance,  in  exciting  affedlion ;  and 
from  like  caufes.  The  eafe  and  fatisfa6tion,  which, 
in  both  cafes,  attend  our  intercourfe  or  commerce, 
is  the  fource  of  the  friendfliip. 

3.  The  paflions  of  love  and  hatred  are  always 
followed   by,  or  rather  conjoined    with,  benevo- 
lence 

•  The  afFedlion  of  parents  to  children  feems  founded  on 
an  original  inlHnft.  The  af»edion  towards  other  relations 
depends  on  the  principles  here  explained. 


20O  A  Dissertation 

lence  and  anger.  It  is  this  conjundlion,  which 
chiefly  diftinguifhes  thefe  affeftions  from  pride 
and  humility.  For  pride  and  humility  are  pure 
emotions  in  the  foul,  unattended  with  any  defire, 
and  not  immediately  exciting  us  to  aftion.  But 
love  and  hatred  are  not  compleat  within  them- 
felves,  nor  reft  in  that  emotion,  which  they  pro- 
duce;  but  carry  the  mind  to  fomeching  farther. 
Love  is  always  followed  by  a  defire  of  happi- 
nefs  to  the  perfon  beloved,  and  an  averfion  to 
his  mifery :  As  hatred  produces  a  defire  of  the 
mifery,  and  an  averfion  to  the  happinefs  of  the 
perfon  hated.  Thefe  oppofite  defires  feem  to  be 
originally  and  primarily  conjoined  with  the  paf- 
fions  of  love  and  hatred.  It  is  a  conftitution  of 
nature,  of  which  we  can  give  no  farther  expli- 
cation. 

4.  Companion  frequently  arifes,  where  there  is 
no  preceding  efteem  or  friendfliipj  and  compaf- 
fion  is  an  uneafinefs  in  the  fuffenngs  of  another. 
It  feems  to  fpring  from  the  intimate  and  ftrong 
conception  of  his  fufferings;  and  our  imaginati- 
on proceeds  by  degrees,  from  the  lively  idea  to 
the   real  feeling  of  another's  niifery. 

Malice  and  envy  alfo  arife  in  the  mind  with- 
out any  preceding  hatred  or  injury  j  though  their 
tendency  is  exadly  the  fame  with  that  of  anger 
and  ill-will.  The  comparifon  of  ourfclves  with 
others  feems  to  be  the  fource  01  envy  and  ma- 
lice. The  more  unhappy  another  is,  the  more 
happy  do  we  ourfelves  appear  in  our  own  con- 
ception. 

5.  The  fimilar  tendency  of  compafTion  to  that 
of  benevolence,  and  of  envy  to  anger,  forms  a 
very  clofe  relation  between  thefe  two  lets  of  paf- 
fions;  though  of  a  different  kind  from  that  which 
was  infifted  on  above.  It  is  not  a  refemblance 
of  feeling  or  fentiment,  but  a  refemblance  of  ten- 
dency   or   direction.      Its  efl'edb,  however,    is   the 

fame. 


'  on  the  Passions.  2qi 

rame,  in  producing  an  afTociation  of  pafTions. 
Compaffion  is  feldom  or  never  felt  without  fome 
mixture  of  tendernefs  or  friendfliip;  and  envy  is 
naturally  accompanied  with  anger  or  ill-will. 
To  defire  the  happinefs  of  another,  from  what- 
ever motive,  is  a  good  preparative  to  affection; 
and  to  delight  in  another's  mifery  almofl:  un- 
avoidably begets  averfion  towards  him. 

Even  where  intereft  is  tiie  fonrce  of  our  con- 
cern, it  is  commonly  attended  with  the  fame 
confequences.  A  partner  is  a  natural  objedl  of 
friendfliip;   a  rival   of  enmity. 

6.  Poverty,  meannefs,  difappointment,  produce 
contempt  and  diflike:  But  when  thefe  misfor- 
tunes are  very  great,  or  are  reprefented  to  us 
in  very  ftrong  colours,  they  excite  compaffion, 
and  tendernefs,  and  friendihip.  How  is  this  con- 
tradiction to  be  accounted  for?  The  poverty  and 
meannefs  of  another,  in  their  common  appear- 
ance, gives  us  uneafinefs,  by  a  fpecies  of  imper- 
fe(5t  fympathy;  and  this  uneafinefs  produces  aver- 
fion or  diflike,  from  the  refc;mblance  of  fenti- 
ment.  But  when  we  enter  more  intimately  into 
another's  concerns,  and  wifh  for  his  happinefs,  as 
well  as  feel  his  mifery,  friendfliip  or  good-will 
arifes,  from  the  fimilar  tendency  of  the  inclina- 
tions. 

A  bankrupt,  at  firfl:,  while  the  idea  of  his  mif- 
fortunes  is  frefli  and  recent,  and  while  the  com- 
parifon  of  his  prefent  unhappy  fituation  with  his 
former  profperity  operates  Itrongly  upon  us,  meets 
with  compaflion  and  friendfliip.  After  thefe  ideas 
are  weakened  or  obliterated  by  time,  he  is  in 
danger  of  compaflion  and  contempt. 

7.  In  refpeft,  there  is  a  mixture  of  humility, 
with  the  efl:eem  or  affe<5lion  :  In  contempt,  a  mix- 
ture of  pride. 

The  amorous  paflion  is  ufually  compounded  of 
complacency    in    beauty,    a   bodily  appetite,    and 

friendfliip 


*02  A  Dissertation 

friendfliip  or  affedion.  The  clofe  relation  of 
thefe  fentiments  is  very  obvious,  as  well  as  their 
origin  from  each  other,  by  means  of  that  rela- 
tion. Were  there  no  other  phsenomena  to  re- 
concile us  to  the  prefent  theory,  this  alone,  me- 
thinks,  were  fufficient. 

SECT.     IV. 

1.  The  prefent  theory  of  pafTions  depends  en- 
tirely on  the  double  relation  of  fentiments  and 
ideas,  and  the  mutual  affiftance,  which  thefe  re- 
lations lend  to  each  other.  It  may  not,  there- 
fore, be  improper  to  illuftrate  thefe  principles  by 
fome  farther  inilances. 

1.  The  virtues,  talents,  accomplilhments,  and 
pofleflions  of  others,  make  us  love  and  eftecm 
them:  Becaufe  thefe  objedls  excite  a  pleafing  fen- 
fation,  which  is  related  to  love ;  and  as  they  have 
alfo  a  relation  or  connexion  with  the  perfon,  this 
union  of  ideas  forwards  the  union  of  fentiment, 
according  to  the  foregoing  reafoning. 

But  fuppofe,  that  the  perfon,  whom  we  love, 
is  alfo  related  to  us,  by  blood,  country,  or  friend- 
Ihip;  it  is  evident,  that  a  fpecies  of  pride  muft 
alfo  be  excited  by  his  accomplifhments  and  pof- 
feffions ;  there  being  the  fame  double  relation, 
which  we  have  all  along  infilled  on.  The  per- 
fon is  related  to  us,  or  there  is  an  eafy  tran- 
fition  of  thought  from  him  to  us;  and  the  fen- 
timents, excited  by  his  advantages  and  virtues, 
are  agreeable,  and  confequently  related  to  pride. 
Accordingly  we  find,  that  people  are  naturally 
vain  of  the  good  qualities  or  high  fortune  of  their 
friends  and  countrymen. 

3.  But  it  is  obfervablc,  that,  if  we  reverfe  the 
order  of  the  pafTions,  the  fame  effeft  does  not 
follow.  We  pafs  eafily  from  love  and  affeflion 
to  pride  and  vanity;  but  not  from  the  latter  paf- 

fions 


3 


on  the  Passions.  203 

fions  to  the  former,  though  all  the  relations  be 
the  fame.  We  love  not  thofe  who  are  related 
to  us,  on  account  of  our  own  merit;  though 
they  are  naturally  vain  on  account  of  our  merit. 
What  is  the  reafon  of  this  difference  ?  The  tran- 
fition  of  the  imagination  to  ourfelves,  from  ob- 
jedls  related  to  us,  is  always  eafyj  both  on  ac- 
count of  the  relation,  which  ficilitates  the  tran,- 
fition,  and  becaufe  v/e  there  pafs  from  remoter  ob- 
jects, to  thofe  which  are  contiguous.  But  in  paf- 
fing  from  ourfelves  to  objefls,  related  to  us; 
though  the  former  principle  forwards  the  tran- 
fition  of  thought,  yet  the  latter  oppofes  it ;  and 
confequentiy  there  is  not  the  fame  eafy  tranf- 
fufion  of  paflions  from  pride  to  love  as  from 
love   to  pride. 

4.  The  virtues,  fervices,  and  fortune  of  one 
man  infpire  us  readily  with  efteem  and  alFedii- 
on  for  another  related  to  him.  The  fon  of  our 
friend  is  naturally  entitled  to  our  friendfliip:  The 
kindred  of  a  very  great  man  value  themfelves, 
and  are  valued  by  others,  on  account  of  that 
relation.  The  force  of  the  double  rela-don  is 
here  fully  difplayed. 

5.  The  following  are  inftances  of  another  kind, 
where  the  operation  of  thefe  principles  may  ilill 
be  difcovered.  Envy  arifes  from  a  fuperiority  in 
others;  but  it  is  obfervable,  that  it  is  not  the 
great  difproportion  between  us,  which  excites  that 
paflion,  but  on  the  contrary,  our  proximity. 
A  great  difproportion  cuts  off  the  relation  of  the 
ideas,  and  either  keeps  us  from  comparing  our- 
felves with  what  is  remote  from  us,  or  dimi- 
nilhes  the  effefts  of  the   comparifon. 

A  poet  is  not  apt  to  tnvy  a  philofoplier,  or 
a  poet  of  a  different  kind,  of  a  different  nation,  or 
of  a  different  age.  All  thefe  differences,  if  they  do 
not  prevent,  at  lead  weaken  the  comparifon  and 
confequentiy  the  paffion. 

This 


'204  A  Dissertation 

This  too  is  the  reafon,  why  all  objefts  appear 
great  or  little,  merely  by  a  comparifon  with  thofe 
of  the  fame  fpecies.  A  mountain  neither  mag- 
nifies nor  diminifhes  a  horfe  in  our  eyes:  But 
when  a  Flemifh  and  a  Welfh  horfe  are  feen  toge- 
ther, the  one  appears  greater  and  the  other  lefs, 
than  when  viewed  apart. 

From  the  fame  principle  we  may  account  for 
that  remark  of  hiftorians,  that  any  party,  in  a 
civil  war,  or  even  factions  divifion,  always  choofe 
to  call  in  a  foreign  enemy  at  any  hazard,  rather 
than  fubmit  to  their  fellow-citizens.  Guicciar- 
din  applies  this  remark  to  the  wars  in  Italy; 
where  the  relations  between  the  different  ftates 
are,  properly  fpeaking,  nothing  but  of  name,  lan- 
guage, and  contiguity.  Yet  even  thefe  relations, 
when  joined  with  fuperiority,  by  making  the  com- 
parifon more  natural,  make  it  likewife  more  grie- 
vous, and  caufe  men  to  fearch  for  fome  other 
fuperiority,  which  may  be  attended  with  no  relati- 
on, and  by  that  means,  may  have  a  lefs  fenfible 
influence  on  the  imagination.  When  we  cannot 
break  the  afllbciation,  we  feel  a  ftronger  defire 
to  remove  the  fuperiority.  This  feems  to  be  the 
reafon,  v/hy  travellers,  though  commonly  lavifh 
of  their  praife  to  the  Chinefe  and  Perfians,  take  care 
to  depreciate  thofe  neighbouring  nations,  which 
may  ftand  upon  a  footing  of  rivalfhip  with  their 
native   country. 

6.  The  fine  arts  afibrd  us  parallel  inftances. 
Should  an  author  compofe  a  treatife,  of  which 
one  part  was  ferious  and  profound,  another  light 
and  humorous  j  every  one  would  condemn  fo 
flrange  a  mixture,  and  would  blame  him  for  the 
neglc(5t  of  all  rules  of  art  and  criticifm.  Yet 
we  accufe  not  Prior  for  joining  his  Alma  and 
Solonion  in  the  fame  volume j  though  that  ami- 
ble  poet  has  perfeftly  lucceeded  in  the  gaiety  of 
the    one,    as    well    as    in  the  melancholy  of  the 

other. 


\  I 


on  the  Passions.  205 

other.  Even  fiippofe  the  reader  fhoiild  pcrufe 
thefc  two  compofitions  without  any  interval,  he 
would  feel  little  or  no  difficulty  in  the  change 
of  the  palTions.  Why  ?  but  becaufe  he  confiders 
thefe  performances  as  entirely  different;  and -by 
that  break  in  the  ideas,  breaks  the  progrefs  of 
the  affedions,  and  hinders  the  one  from  influ- 
encing or  contradi<5i:ing  the  other. 

An  heroic  and  burlefque  defign,  united  in  one 
pi6lure,  would  be  monllrous;  though  we  place 
two  pictures  of  fo  oppofite  a  character  in  the 
fame  chamber,  and  even  clofe  together,  without 
any  fcruple. 

7.  It  needs  be^  no  matter  of  wonder,  that  the 
eafy  traqfition  of  the  imagination  fhould  have 
fuch  an  influence  ori  all  the  pafTions.  It  is  this 
very  circumftance,  which  forms  all  the  relations 
and  connexions  amongft  obje6ls.  We  know  no 
real  connexion  between  one  thing  and  another. 
We  only  know,  that  the  idea  of  one  thing  is 
aflbciated  with  that  of  another,  and  that  the  ima- 
gination makes  an  eafy  tranfition  between  them. 
And  as  the  eafy  tranfition  of  ideas,  and  that  of 
fentiments  mutually  aflift  each  other;  we  might 
before-hand  exped,  that  this  principle  miift  have 
a  mighty  influence  on  all  our  internal  movements 
and  affeclions.  And  experience  fufficiently  con- 
firms the   theory. 

For,  not  to  repeat  all  the  foregoing  inflances: 
Suppofe,  that  I  were  travelling  with  a  compani- 
on through  a  country,  to  which  we  are  both  ut- 
ter ftrangers;  it  is  evident,  that,  if  the  profpe<5ts 
be  beautiful,  the  roads  agreable,  and  the  fields 
finely  cultivated;  this  may  ferve  to  put  me  in 
good-humour,  both  with  myfelf  and  fellow-tra- 
veller. But  as  the  country  has  no  connexion 
with  myfelf  or  friend,  it  can  never  be  the  imme- 
diate caufe  either  of  felf-value  or  of  regard  to 
him :    And    therefore,  if  I   found  not  the  paffion 

on 


206  A  Dissertation 

on  fome  other  objedl,  which  bears  to  one  of  us 
a  clofer  relation,  my  emotions  are  rather  to  be 
confidered  as  the  overflowings  of  an  elevated  or 
humane  difpofition,  than  as  an  eftabliihed  pafllon. 
But  fuppofing  the  agreeable  profpeft  before  us 
to  be  furveyed  either  from  his  country-feat  or 
from  mine;  this  new  connexion  of  ideas  gives 
a  new  dire6lion  to  the  fentiment  of  pleafure,  de- 
rived from  the  profped,  and  raifes  the  emotion 
of  regard  or  vanity,  according  to  the  nature  of 
the  connexion.  There  is  not  here,  methinks, 
much  room  for  doubt  or  difficulty. 

SECT.     V. 

1.  It  feems  evident,  that  reafon,  in  a  ftrict 
fenfe,  as  meaning  the  judgment  of  truth  and 
falfehood,  can  never,  of  itfelf,  be  any  motive  to 
the  will,  and  can  have  no  influence  but  fo  far 
as  it  touches  fome  pafllon  or  aff'ection.  Ahftract 
relations  of  ideas  are  the  object  of  curiofity,  not 
of  volition.  And  matters  of  fa5fy  where  they  are 
neither  good  nor  evil,  where  they  neither  excite 
defire  nor  averfion,  are  totally  indifferent;  and  whe- 
ther known  or  unknown,  whether  mifl:aken  or  right- 
ly apprehended,  cannot  be  regarded  as  any  mo- 
tive to  action. 

2.  What  is  commonly,  in  a  popular  fenfe,  cal- 
led reafon,  and  is  fo  much  recommended  in  mo- 
ral difcourfes,  is  nothing  but  a  general  and  a 
calm  pafllon,  which  takes  a  comprehenflve  and 
a  difl;ant  view  of  its  object,  and  actuates  the 
will,  without  exciting  any  fenflble  emotion.  A  man, 
we  fay,  is  diligent  in  his  profefllon  from  reafon; 
that  is,  from  a  calm  defire  of  riches  and  a  for- 
tune. A  man  adheres  to  juftice  from  reafon; 
that  is,  from  a  calm  regard  to  public  good,  or 
to   a  character   with  himfelf  and  others. 

3.  The  lame  objects,  which  recommend  them- 
fclves   to    reafon   ia  this   fenfe  of  the   word,    are 

alfo 


on  the  Passions.  207 

alfo  the  objects  of  what  we  call  pafTion,  when 
they  are  brought  near  to  us,  and  acquire  fome 
other  advantages,  either  of  external  fituation,  or 
congruity  to  our  internal  temper}  and  by  that 
means  excite  a  turbulent  and  fenfible  emotion. 
Evil,  at  a  great  diftance,  is  avoided,  we  fay,  from 
reafon :  Evil,  near  at  hand,  produces  averfion,  hor- 
ror, fear,  and  is   the  object  of  paflion, 

4.  The  common  error  of  metaphyficians  has 
lain  in  afcribing  the  direction  of  the  will  entire- 
ly to  one  of  thefe  principles,  and  fuppofing  the 
other  to  have  no  influence.  Men  often  act  know- 
ingly againft  their  intereft:  It  is  not  therefore 
the  view  of  the  greateft  poflible  good  which  al- 
ways influences  them.  Men  often  counteract  a 
violent  paflion,  in  profecution  of  their  difliant  in- 
tereflis  and  defigns :  It  is  therefore  the  prefent  un- 
caflnefs  alone,  which  determines  them.  In  gene- 
ral, we  may  obferve,  that  both  thefe  principles 
operate  on  the  will  j  and  where  they  are  contra- 
ry, that  either  of  them  prevails,  according  to  the 
general  character  or  prefent  difpofition  of  the 
perfon.  What  we  call  Jirength  of  mind  implies 
the  prevalence  of  the  calm  paflions  above  the 
violent;  though  we  may  eafily  obferve,  that 
there  is  no  perfon  fo  conftantly  pofl!cfl!ed  of  this 
virtue,  as  never,  on  any  occafion,  to  yield  to  the 
folicitation  of  violent  afi-ection  and  defire.  From 
thefe  variations  of  temper  proceeds  the  great 
difficulty  of  deciding  with  regard  to  the  future 
actions  and  refoUitions  of  men,  where  there  is 
any  contrariety  of  motives  and  paflions. 

SECT.     VI. 

I .  We  fhall  here  enumerate  fome  of  thofe  cir- 
cumfl:ances,  which  render  a  paflion  calm  or  vio- 
lent, which  heighten  or  diminifli  any  emotion. 

It   is  a   property   in    human   nature,    that   any 

emotion. 


2o8  A  Dissertation 

emotion,  which  attends  a  paflion  is  eafily  con- 
verted into  it;  though  in  their  natures  they  be 
originally  different  from,  and  even  contrary  to 
each  other.  It  is  true,  in  order  to  caufe  a  per- 
fect union  amongft  paffions,  and  make  one  pro- 
duce the  other,  there  is  always  required  a  dou- 
ble relation,  according  to  the  theory  above  de- 
livered. But  when  two  paffions  are  already  pro- 
duced by  their  feparate  caufes,  and  are  both  pre- 
fent  in  the  mind,  they  readily  mingle  and  unite; 
though  they  have  but  one  relation,  and  fome- 
times  without  any.  The  predominant  palfion  fwal- 
lows  up  the  inferior,  and  converts  it  into  itfelf. 
The  fpirits,  when  once  excited,  eafily  receive  a 
change  in  their  direction  j  and  it  is  natural  to  ima- 
gine, that  change  will  come  from  the  prevailing 
afFecion.  The  connection  is  in  many  cafes  clo- 
fer  between  any  two  paffions,  than  between  any 
paflion  and   indifference. 

Vv  hen  a  perfon  is  once  heartily  in  love,  the 
little  faults  and  caprices  of  his  miilrefs,  the  jea- 
loufies  and  quarrels,  to  which  that  comm.erce  is 
fo  fubject;  however  unpleafant  they  be,  and.  ra- 
ther connected  with  anger  and  hatred ;  are  yet 
jfound,  in  many  inftances,  to  give  additional  force 
to  the  prevailing  paflion.  It  is  a  common  ar- 
tifice of  politicians,  when  they  would  affect  any 
perfon  very  much  by  a  matter  of  fact,  of  which 
they  intend  to  inform  him,  firlt  to  excite  his 
curiofity ;  delay  as  long  as  poffible  the  fatisfying 
of  it;  and  by  that  means  raife  his  anxiety  and 
impatience  to  the  utmoll,  before  they  give  him 
a  full  infight  into  the  bufinefs.  They  know, 
that  this  curiofity  will  precipitate  him  into  the 
paflion,  which  they  purpofe  to  raife,  and  will 
aflift  the  object  in  its  influence  on  the  mind. 
-A.  foldier  advancing  to  battle,  is  naturally  in- 
fpired  with  courage  and  confidence,  when  he 
thinks  on  his  friends  and  fellow-foldiers ;  and  is 
ftruck  with  fear  and  terror,  when  he  reflects  on 

the 


on  the  Passions.  2051 

the  enemy.  Whatever  new  ennotion  therefore  pro- 
ceeds from  the  former,  naturally  encreafcs  the 
courage;  as  the  fame  emotion  proceeding  from 
the  latter,  augments  the  fear.  Hence  in  marti- 
al difciplincj  the,  uniformity  and  luftre  of  habit, 
the  regularity  of  figures  and  motions,  with  all 
the  pomp  and  majefly  of  war,  encourage  ourfelves 
and  our  allies;  while  the  fame  objc6ls  in  the  ene- 
my ftrike  terror  into  us,  though  agreeable  and 
beautiful    in  thcmfelves. 

.  Hope  is,  in  itfelf,  an  agreeable  paflion,  and  al- 
lied to  friendfliip  and  benevolence;  yet  is  it  able 
fomctimes  to  blow  up  anger,  when  that  is  the 
predominant    paflion.        Spes   addita  Jujcitat   iras. 

2.  Since  pafTions,  however  independent,  are  na- 
turally transfufed  into  each  other,  if  they  be  both 
prefent  at  the  fame  time;  it  follows,  that  when  good 
or  evil  is  placed  in  fuch  a  fituation  as  to  caufe 
any  particular  emotion,  befides  its  dirett  paflion 
of  defire  or  averfion,  this  latter  palTion  muft  ac- 
quire   new  force   and  violence. 

3.  This  often  happens,  when  any  objedt  excites 
contrary  paflions.  For  it  is  obfervable,  that  an 
oppofition  of  paflions  commonly  caufes  a  new 
emotion  in  the  fpirits,  and  produces  more  difor- 
der  than  the  concurrence  of  any  two  affedtions 
Cif  equal  force.  This  new  emotion  is  eafily  con- 
verted into  the  predominant  paflion,  and  in  ma- 
ny inftances,  is  obferved  to  encreafe  its  violence^ 
beyond  the  pitch,  at  which  it  would  have  ar- 
rived, had  it  met  with  no  oppofition.  Hence  we 
naturally  defire  what  is  forbid,  and  often  take 
a  pleafure  in  performing  akflionsy  merely  becaufc 
they  are  unlawful.  The  notion  of  duty,  when 
oppofite  to  the  paffions,  is  not  always  able  to 
overcome  them;  and  when  it  fails  of  that  effe6l, 
is  apt  rather  to  encreafe  and  irritate  them,  by 
producing  an  oppofition  in  our  motives  and  prin- 
ciples. 

Vol.  II.  JP*  4.  The 


aio  A  Dissertation 

4.  The  fame  efFc6t  follows,  whether  the  oppo- 
fition  arife  from  internal  motives  or  external  ob- 
ftacles.  The  paffion  commonly  acquires  new 
force  in  both  cafes.  The  efforts,  which  the  mind 
makes  to  furmount  the  obftacle,  excite  the  fpirits, 
and  enliven  the  paffion. 

5.  Uncertainty  has  the  fame  effe6b  as  oppofition. 
The  agitation  of  the  thought,  the  quick  turns  which 
it  makes  from  one  view  to  another,  the  variety  of 
paffions  which  fucceed  each  other,  according  to  the 
different  views:  All  thefe  produce  an  emotion  in 
the  mind  J  and  this  emotion  transfufes  itfelf  into  the 
predominant  paffion. 

Security,  on  the  contrary,  diminilhes  the  paffi- 
ons. The  mind,  when  left  to  itfelf,  immediate- 
ly languifhes;  and  in  order  to  preferve  its  ardour, 
mufl  be  every  moment  fupported  by  a  new  flow  of 
paffion.  For  the  fame  reafon,  defpair,  though  con- 
trary to  fecurity,  has  a  like  influence. 

6.  Nothing  more  powerfully  excites  any  affecti- 
on than  to  conceal  fome  part  of  its  objed:,  by 
throwing  it  into  a  kind  of  Ihade,  which  at  the  fame 
time  that  it  fhows  enough  to  prepoffefs  us  in  favour 
of  the  objcift,  leaves  ftill  fome  work  for  the  imagi- 
nation. Befides  that  obfcurity  is  always  attended 
with  a  kind  of  uncertainty}  the  effort,  which  the 
fancy  makes  to  compleat  the  idea,  rouzes  the  fpi- 
rits,  and  gives  an  additional  force  to  the  paffion. 

7.  As  defpair  and  fecurity,  though  contrary,  pro- 
duce the  fame  effedlsj  fo  abfcnce  is  obbftrved  to 
have  contrary  effe6ts,  and  in  different  circumftan- 
ces,  either  encreafes  or  diminifhcs  our  affeftion. 
Rochefoucault  has  very  well  remarked,  that  abfencc 
deftroys  weak  paffion,  but  encreafes  ftrong;  as  the 
wind  extinguifhes  a  candle,  but  blov/s  up  a  fire. 
Long  abfencc  naturally  weakens  our  idea,  and  di- 
miniffies  the  paffion:  But  where  the"  afteftion  is  fo 
ftrong  and  lively  as  to  fupport  itfelf,  the  uneafinefs, 
arifing   from  abfcnce,   encreafes    the  paffion,    and 


gives  it  new  force  and  influence. 


8.  When 


.1 


on  the  Passions.  211 

8.  When  the  foul  applies  itfelf  to  the  perform- 
ance of  any  action,  or  the  conception  of  any  object, 
to  which  it  is  not  accullomed,  there  is  a  certain  un- 
pliablenefs  in  the  faculties;  and  a  difficulty  of  the 
fpirits  moving  in  their  new  direction.  As  this  dif- 
ficulty excites  the  fpirits,  it  is  the  fource  of  wonder, 
furprize,  and  of  all  the  emotions,  which  arife  from 
novelty;  and  is,  in  itfelf,  agreeable,  like  every  thing 
which  enlivens  the  mind  to  a  moderate  degree.  But 
though  furprize  be  agreeable  in  itfelf,  yet,  as  it 
puts  the  fpirits  in  agitation,  it  not  only  augments 
our  agreeable  affections,  but  alfo  our  painful,  ac- 
cording to  the  foregoing  principle.  Hence  every 
thing  that  is  new,  is  moft  affe6ting,  and  gives  us 
either  more  pleafure  or  pain,  than  what,  ftriftly 
fpeaking,  Ihould  naturally  follow  from  it.  When 
it  often  returns  upon  us,  the  novelty  wears  off;  the 
paflions  fubfide ;  the  hurry  of  the  fpirits  is  over; 
and  we  furvey  the  objedl  with  greater  tranquillity, 

9.  The  imagination  and  affections  have  a  clofe 
union  together.  The  vivacity  of  the  former  gives 
force  to  the  latter.  Hence  the  profpect  of  any 
pleafure,  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  affects  us 
more  than  any  other  pleafure,  which  we  may  own 
fuperior,  but  of  whole  nature  we  are  wholly  igno- 
rant. Of  the  one  we  can  form  a  particular  and  de- 
terminate idea  :  The  other  we  conceive  under  the 
general  notion  of  pleafure. 

Any  fatisfaction,  which  we  lately  enjoyed,  and  of 
which  the  memory  is  frefh  and  recent,  operates  on 
the  will  with  more  violence,  than  another  of  which 
the  traces  are  decayed  and  almoft  obliterated. 

A  pleafure,  which  is  fuitable  to  the  way  of  life, 
in  which  we  are  engaged,  excites  more  our  defirc 
and  appetite  than  another,  which  is  foreign  to  it. 

Nothing  is  more  capable  of  infufing  any  pallion 
into  the  mind,  than  eloquence,  by  which  objects 
are  reprefented  in  the  flrongeft  and  mod  lively  co- 
lour?.      The  bare   opinion    of  another,  efpecially 

P  2  when 


214  A  Dissertation,  &c. 

when  enforced  with  paffion,  will  caufe  an  idea  to 
have  an  influence  upon  us,  though  that  idea  might 
otherwife  have  been  entirely  negledted. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  lively  paflions  commonly 
attend  a  lively  imagination.  In  this  refpeft,  as  well 
as  in  others,  the  force  of  the  paflion  depends  as 
much  on  the  temper  of  the  perfon,  as  on  the  nature 
and  fituation  of  the  objed. 

What  is  diftant,  either  in  place  or  time,  has  not 
equal  influence  with  what  is  near  and  contiguous. 

*  *  * 

I  pretend  not  to  have  here  exhaufted  this  fubjedi. 
It  is  fufficient  for  my  purpofe,-  if  1  have  made  it  ap- 
pear, that,  in  the  produftion  and  condud  of  paf- 
fions,  there  is  a  certain  regular  mechanifm,  which 
is  fufceptible  of  as  accurate  a  difquifition,  as  the 
laws  of  motion,  optics,  hydroftatics,  or  any  part  of 
ijatural  phiiofophy. 


A-  N" 


A  N 


E    N    Q^  U   I    R  Y 


CONCERNING    THE 


PRINCIPLE     S 


O    F 


MORALS. 


1 


(  2'$  ) 


SECTION      I. 


Of  the  General  Principles  of  Morals. 


n 


'ISPUTES  with  men,  pertinacioufly  obftinate 
in  their  principles,  are,  of  all  others,  the  moft 
irkfon:ie;  except,  perhaps,  thofe  with  perfons,  en- 
tirely difingenuous,  who  really  do  not  believe 
the  opinions  they  defend,  but  engage  in  the  con- 
troverfy,  from  affedlation,  from  a  fpirit  of  oppofi- 
tion,  or  from  a  defire  of  fhowing  wit  and  inge- 
nuity, fuperior  to  the  reft  of  mankind.  The 
fame  blind  adherence  to  their  own  arguments  is 
to  be  expedled  in  both ;  the  fame  contempt  of 
their  antagonifts  j  the  fame  pafiionate  vehemence, 
in  inforcing  fophiftry  and  falfehood»  And  as  rea- 
foning  is  not  the  fource,  whence  either  difpu- 
tant  derives  his  tenets  -,  it  is  in  vain  to  expedt, 
that  any  logic,  which  fpeaks  not  to  the  affec- 
tions, will  ever  engage  him  to  embrace  founder 
principles. 

Thofe  who  have  denied  the  reality  of  moral 
diftinftions,  may  be  ranked  among  the  dilinge- 
nuous  difputants ;  nor  is  it  conceivable,  that  any 
human  creature  could  ever  ferioufly  believe, 
that  all  characters  and  actions  were  alike  en- 
titled to  the  affection  and  regard  of  every  one. 
The  difference,  which  nature  has  placed  between 
one  man  and  another,  is  fo  wide,  and  this  dif- 
ference 


2i6         S    E    C    T    I    O    N      1. 

ference  is  ftill  fo  much  farther  widened,  by  edu- 
cation, example,  and  habit,  that,  where  the  op- 
pofite  extremes  come  at  once  under  our  ap- 
prehenfion,  there  is  no  fcepticifm  lb  fcrupiilouSs 
and  fcarce  any  afTjrance  fo  determined^  as  ab- 
folutely  to  deny  all  diftinction  between  them. 
Let  a.  man's  infenfibility  be  ever  fo  great,  he 
mull  often  be  touched  Vv'ith  the  images  of  Right 
and  Wrong ;  and  let  his  prejudices  be  ever  fq 
obftinate,  he  muft  obferye,  that  others  are  fuf- 
ccptible  of  like  impreffions.  The  only  way, 
therefore,  of  converting  an  antagonift:  of  this 
kind,  is  to  leave  him  to  himfelf.  For,  finding 
that  nobody  keeps  up  the  controverfy  with  him, 
it  is  probable  he  will,  at  lail,  of  himfelf,  from 
mere  wearinefs,  come  over  to  the  fide  of  commoi^ 
fenfe  and  reafon. 

There  has  been  a  controverfy  ftarted  of  late, 
much  better  worth  exaipination,  concerning  the 
general  foundation  of  Morals ;  v/hether  they  be 
derived  from  Reafon,  or  from  Sentirnent ;  whe- 
ther we  attain  the  knowledge  of  them  by  a  chain 
of  argument  and  induction,  or  by  an  immedi- 
ate feeling  and  finer  internal  fenfe  j  whether,  like 
i\\\  found  judgment  of  truth  and  falfehood,  they 
Ihould  be  the  fame  to  every  rational  intelligent 
being;  or  whether,  like  the  perception  of  beauty 
and  deformity,  thty  be  founded  entirely  on  the 
particular  fabric  and  conllitution  of  the  human 
fpecies. 

The  ancient  philofophers,  though  they  often 
j^ffirm,  that  virtue  is  pothing  but  conformity  to 
reafon,  yet,  in  general,  feem  to  confider  morals 
as  deriving  their  exiftence  from  tafte  and  ien- 
timent.  On  the  other  hand,  our  modern  en- 
quirers, though  they  alio  talk  much  of  the 
beauty  of  virtue,  and  deformity  of  vice,  yet  have 
cpmiT^only  endeavoured   to   account  for  thefe  dif- 

tinctions 


Of  the  General  Principles  of  Morals.    217 

tinctions  by  metaphyfical  reafonings,  and  by  de- 
ductions from  the  moil  abftract  principles  of  the 
iinderftanding.  Such  confufion  reigned  in  thefe 
fubjects,  that  an  oppofition  of  th^  greatefl:  con- 
fequence  could  prevail  between  one  fyftem  and 
another,  and  even  in  the  parts  of  almoft  each 
individual  fyftem  -,  and  yet  no  body,  till  very 
lately,  was  ever  fenfible  of  it.  The  elegant  Lord 
Shaftefbury,  who  firft  gave  occafion  to  remark 
this  diftinction,  and  who,  in  general,  adhered  to 
the  principles  of  the  ancients,  is  not,  himfelf, 
entirely  free   from  the    fame  confufion. 

It  muft  be  acknowledged,  that  both  fides  of 
the  queftion  are  fufceptible  of  fpecious  argu- 
ments. Moral  didindbions,  it  may  be  faid,  are 
difcernible  by  pure  reafon:  Elfe,  whence  the 
many  difputes  that  reign  in  common  life,  as 
well  as  in  philofophy,  with  regard  to  this  fub- 
je61: :  The  long  chain  of  proofs  often  produced 
on  both  fides ;  the  examples  cited,  the  authori- 
ties appealed  to,  the  analogies  employed,  the 
fallacies  detedted,  the  inferences  drawn,  and  the 
feveral  conclufions  adjufted  to  their  proper  prin- 
ciples. Truth  is  difputable ;  not  taile  :  What 
exifts  in  the  nature  of  things  is  the  ftandard  of 
our  judgment;  what  each  man  feels  within  him- 
felf is  the  ftandard  of  fentiment.  Propofitions 
in  geometry  may  be  proved,  fyftems  in  phyfics 
may  be  controverted  ;  but  the  harmony  of  verfe, 
the  tendernefs  of  pallion,  the  brilliancy  of  wit, 
muft  give  immediate  pleafure.  No  man  reafons 
concerning  another's  beauty  i  but  frequently  con- 
cerning the  juftice  or  injuftice  of  his  actions. 
In  every  criminal  trial  the  firft  objeft  of  the 
prifoner  is  to  difprove  the  fa6ls  alleged,  and  de- 
ny the  a6lions  imputed  to  him  :  The  fecond  to 
prove,  that,  even  if  thefe  actions  were  real,  they 
might  be  juftified,  as  innocent  and  lawful.  It  is 
coafeftedly    by   deductions   of  the  underftanding, 

that 


2iS  SECTION!. 

that  the  firft  point  is  afcertained  r  How  can  wc 
fuppofe  that  a  different  faculty  of  the  mind  is 
employed  in  fixing  the  other  ? 

On  the  other  hand,  thofe  who  would  refolve 
all  moral  determinations  into  Jentiment^  may  en- 
deavour to  {how,  that  it  is  impoffible  for  reafon 
ever  to  draw  conclufions  of  this  nature.  To 
virtue,  fay  they,  it  belongs  to  be  amiahUj  and 
vice  odious.  This  forms  their  very  nature  or  ef- 
fence.  But  can  reafon  or  argumentation  dillri- 
bute  thefe  different  epithets  to  any  fubjects,  and 
pronounce  before-hand,  that  this  muft  produce 
love,  and  that  hatred  ?  Or  what  other  reafon  can 
we  ever  affign  for  thefe  affections,  but  the  origi- 
nal fabric  and  formation  of  the  human  mind, 
which  is  naturally  adapted  to  receive  them  ? 

The  end  of  all  moral  fpeculations  is  to  teach 
us  our  duty;  and,  by  proper  reprcfentations  of 
the  deformity  of  vice  and  beauty  of  virtue,  be- 
get correfpondent  habits,  and  engage  us  to  avoid 
the  one,  and  embrace  the  other.  But  is  this  ever 
to  be  expected  from  inferences  and  conclufions 
of  the  underftanding,  which  of  themfelves  have  no 
hold  of  the  affections,  or  fet  in  motion  the  active 
powers  of  men  ?  They  difcover  truths :  But  where 
the  truths  which  they  difcover  are  indifferent,  and 
beget  no  defire  or  averfion,  they  can  have  no 
influence  on  conduct  and  behaviour.  What  is  ho- 
nourable, what  is  fair,  what  is  becoming,  what  is 
noble,  what  is  generous,  takes  poffeffion  of  the  heart, 
and  animates  us  to  embrace  and  maintain  it.  What 
is  intelligible,  what  is  evident,  what  is  probable, 
what  is  true,  procures  only  the  cool  affent  of  the 
\inderftanding;  and  gratifying  a  fpeculative  curiofi- 
ly,  puts  an  end  to  our  reiearches. 

Extingui/h  all  the  warm  feelings  and  prepoffeffions 
in  favour  of  virtue,  and  all  difguilor  averfion  to  vice: 
Render  men  totally  indifferent  towards  th^^fe  diilinc- 
tionsi  and  morality  is  no  longer  a  practical  ftudy, 

2  nor 


^i 


of  theGENERAL  Principles  of  Morals.    219 

nor  has  any  tendency  to  regulate  our  lives  and  ac- 
tions. 

Thefe  arguments  on  each  fide  (and  many  more 
might  be  produced)   are   fo  plaufible,  that  I  am 
apt   to  fufped:,    they   may,    the   one    as    well    as 
the   other,  be  folid  and  fatisfaftory,  and  that  rea- 
Jon  and  Jcntiment  concur  in  almoft  all  moral  deter- 
minations and  conclufions.     The  final  fentence,  it 
is    probable,  which  pronounces   chara6lers  and  ac- 
tions   amiable  or  odious,  praife-worthy  or  blame- 
able  j    that   which  ftamps   on   them   the   mark   of 
honour  or    infamy,  approbation   or  cenfure ;    tlist 
which    renders   morality    an   adlive  principle,  and 
conftitutes    virtue    our   happinefs,    and    vice   our 
mifery :  It  is  probable,  I   fay,  that  this  final  fen- 
tence depends  on   fome  internal  fenfe  or  feeling, 
which  nature  has  made  univerfal  in  the  whole  fpe- 
cies.     For  what  elfe  can  have  an  influence  of  this 
nature  ?  But  in  order  to  pave  the  way   for  fuch  a 
fcntiment,  and  give  a  proper  difcernment  of  its  ob- 
jedl,    it   is   often   necefl^ary,    we  find,    that   much 
reafoning  Ihould    precede,    that    nice   diftin<5lions 
be  made,  juft  contlufions  drawn,  diftant   compa- 
rifons  formed,    complicated    relations    examined, 
and  general   fafts   fixed    and    afcertained.      Some 
fpecies  of  beauty,  efpecially  the  natural  kinds,  on 
their  firft  appearance,  command  our  affection  and 
approbation ;  and  where  they  fail  of  this  effed:,  it 
is   impofiible  for  any   reafoning   to    redrefs    their 
influence,  or  adapt  them   better  to   our  tafle  and 
fentiment.     But  in  many  orders  of  beauty,  particu- 
larly thofe  of  the   finer  arts,  it  is   requifite  to  em- 
ploy much  reafoning,    in   order  to   feel   the   pro- 
per fentiment ;  and  a  falfe  relifh  may  frequently 
be  corrected  by  argument  and  reflection.     There 
are  juft  grounds   to    conclude,  that  moral  beauty 
partakes   much  of  this  latter  fpecies,  and  demands 
the   afliftance  of  our  intellectual  faculties,  in  or- 
der 


420  SECTION      I 

der  to  give  it  a  fuitable  influence  on  the  human 
inind. 

But  though  this  queftion,  concerning  the  gene- 
ral principles  of  morals,  be  curious  and  impor- 
tant, it  is  needlefs  for  us,  at  prefent,  to  employ 
farther  care  in  our  refearches  concerning  it.  For 
if  we  can  be  fo  happy,  in  the  courfe  of  this  en- 
quiry, as  to  difcover  the  true  origin  of  morals,  it 
will  then  eafily  appear  how  far  either  fentiment  or 
reafon  enters  into  all  determinations  of  this  na- 
■ture  *.  In  order  to  attain  this  purpofe,  we  fhall 
endeavour  to  follow  a  very  fimple  method :  We 
fhall  analyze  that  complication  of  mental  qualities, 
which  form  what,  in  common  life,  we  call  Perfo- 
nal  Merit :  We  fhall  confider  every  attribute  of  the 
mind,  which  renders  a  man  an  object  either  of  .ef- 
teem  and  affection,  or  of  hatred  and  contempt ; 
.every  habit  or  fentiment  or  faculty,  which,  if  af- 
cribed  to  any  perfon,  implies  either  praife  or  blame, 
and  may  enter  into  any  panegyric  or  fatire  of  his 
character  and  manners.  The  quick  fenfibility, 
which,  on  this  head,  is  fo  univerfal  among  man- 
kind, gives  a  philofopher  fufficient  afTurance,  that 
he  can  neyer  ,be  confiderably  miflaken  in  framing 
the  catalogue,  or  incur  any  danger  of  mifplacing 
the  objects  of  his  contemplation  :  He  needs  only 
enter  into  his  own  breaft  for  a  moment,  and 
confider  whether  or  not  he  fhould  defire  to  have 
this  or  that  quality  afcribed  to  him,  and  whether 
fuch  or  fuch  an  im.p-utation  would  proceed  from  a 
friend  or  an  enemy.  Tjie  very  nature  of  language 
guides  us  almofl  infallibly  in  forming  a  judgment 
of  this  nature ;  and  as  every  tongue  pofTelTes  one  fet 
of  words  which  are  taken  in  a  good  fcnfe,  and  ano- 
ther in  the  oppofite,  the  leafl  acquaintance  with  the 
idiom  fuffices,  without  any  reafoning,  to  direct  us 
in  collecting  and  arranging  the  eflimable  or  blame- 
able 

*   See  Appendix  I. 


1 


Of  the  General  Principles  of  Morals.    221 

able  qualities  of  men.  The  only  object  of  reafon- 
ing  is  to  difcover  the  circumilanccs  on  both  fides, 
which  are  common  to  thefe  qualities ;  to  obfervc 
that  particular  in  which  the  eflimabie  qualities  a- 
gree  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  blameable  on  the 
other;  and  thence  to  reach  the  foundation  of  ethics, 
and  find  thofe  univerfal  principles,  from  which  all 
cenfure  or  approbation  is  ultimately  derived.  As 
this  is  a  queftion  of  fact,  not  of  abftract  fcience, 
we  can  only  expect  fuccefs,  by  following  the  expe- 
rimental method,  and  deducing  general  maxims 
from  a  comparifon  of  particular  inftances.  The 
other  fcientifical  method,  where  a  general  abftract 
principle  is  firft  eftablifhed,  and  is  afterwards 
branched  out  into  a  variety  of  inferences  and  con- 
clufions,  may  be  more  perfect  in  itfelf,  but  fuits  lefs 
the  imperfection  of  human  nature,  and  is  a  com.- 
mon  fource  of  illufion  and  miftake  in  this  as  well 
as  in  other  fubjects.  Men  are  now  cured  of  their 
paffion  for  hypothefes  and  fyftems  in  natural  philo- 
fophy,  and  will  hearken  to  no  arguments  but  thofe 
which  are  derived  from  experience.  It  is  full  time 
they  fhould  attempt  a  like  reformation  in  all  moral 
difquifitions;  and  reject  every  fyftem  of  ethics, 
however  fubtile  or  ingenious,  which  is  not  founded 
on  fact  and  obfervation. 

We  fhall  begin  our  enquiry  on  this  head  by  the 
confideration  of  the  focial  virtues,  benevolence  and 
juftice.  The  explication  of  them  will  probably 
give  us  an  opening  by  which  the  others  may  be  ac- 
counted for. 


o 


(       ^ij       ) 


SECTION       11. 

Of     B  E   N   E    V  O  L   E    N  C   E. 

PART       I. 


I 


T  may  be  efteemed,  perhaps,  a  fuperfluous  talk 
to  prove,  chat  the  benevolent  or  fofter  affeftions 
are  ESTIMABLE;  and  wherever  they  appear,  en- 
gage the  approbation,  and  good-will  of  mankind. 
The  epithets  Jociahle^  good-natured,  humane y  merci- 
fuU  gratefuly  friendly,  generous,  beneficent,  or  their 
equivalents,  are  known  in  all  languages,  and  uni- 
verfaily  exprefs  the  highefl:  merit,  which  human 
nature  is  capable  of  attaining.  Where  thefe  ami- 
able qualities  are  attended  with  birth  and  power 
and  eminent  abilities,  and  difplay  themfelves  in  the 
good  government  or  ufeful  inftruftion  of  mankind, 
they  feem  even  to  raife  the  pofTeflbrs  of  them  above 
the  rank  of  human  nature,  and  make  them  approach 
in  Ibme  mearure  to  the  divine.  Exalted  capacity, 
undaunted  courage,  profperous  fuccefs  ;  thefe  may 
only  expofe  a  hero  or  politician  to  the  envy  and 
ill-will  of  the  public  :  But  as  foon  as  the  praifes 
are  added  of  humane  and  beneficent;  when  inftan- 
ces  are  difplayed  of  lenity,  tenderncfs,  or  friend- 
fhip  J  envyitfelfis  filent,  or  joins  the  general  voice 
of  approbation  and  applaule. 

When  Pericles,  the  great  Athenian  flatefman 
and  general,  was  on  his  death-bed,  his  furround- 
ing  friends,  deeming  him  now  infenfiblc,  began 
to  indulge  their  forrow  for  their  expiring  patron, 
-by  enumerating  his  great  qualities  and  fuccefTes, 
his   conquells    and   vidories,    the   unufual    length 

of 


224  S    E     C     T    I    O    N     IL 

of  his  admlniftration,  and  his  nine  trophies  ereft- 
ed  over  the  enemies  of  the  republic.  Tou  for- 
getj  cries  the  dying  hero,  who  had  heard  all,  you 
forget  the  moft  eminent  of  my  praifesy  while  you  dwell 
fo  much  on  thofe  vulgar  advantages ^  in  which  fortune 
had  a  principal  Jhare,  Tou  have  not  ohferved^  that 
no  citizen  has  ever  yet  worn  mourning  on  my  ac- 
count *. 

In  men  of  more  ordinary  talents  and  capacity, 
the  focial  virtues  become,  if  poflible,  ftill  more 
eflentially  requifite ;  there  being  nothing  eminent 
in  that  cafe,  to  compenfate  for  the  want  of  them, 
or  preferve  the  perfon  from  our  fevereft  hatred,  as 
well  as  contempt.  A  high  ambition,  an  elevated 
courage,  is  aptj  fays  Cicero,  in  lefs  perfecft 
characters,  to  degenerate  into  a  turbulent  ferocity. 
The  more  focial  and  fofter  virtues  arc  there  chief- 
ly to  be  regarded.  Thefe  arc  always  good  and 
amiable  f. 

The  principal  advantage,  which  Juvenal  difco- 
vers  in  the  extenfive  capacity  of  the  human  fpe- 
cies  is,  that  it  renders  our  benevolence  alfo  more 
extenfive,  and  gives  us  larger  opportunities  of 
fpreading  our  kindly  influence  than  what  are  in- 
dulged to  the  inferior  creation  J,  It  muft,  in- 
deed, be  confeffed,  that  by  doing  good  only,  can 
a  man  truly  enjoy  the  advantages  of  being  emi- 
nent. His  exalted  ftation,  of  itfelf,  but  the  more 
expofes  him  to  danger  and  tempeft.  His  fole 
prerogative  is  to  afford  fhelter  to  inferiors,  who 
repofe  themfelves  under  his  cover  and  proteftion. 

But  I  forget,  that  it  is  not  my  prefent  bufinefs  to 
recommend  generofity  and  benevolence,  or  to 
paint,  in  their  true  colours,  all  the  genuine  charms 
of  the  focial  virtues.  Thefe,  indeed,  fufRciently 
engage    every  heart,    on  the  firft  apprehenfion  ot 

them  i 

•  Plut.  in  Pericle.  'f  Cic.  dc  Officiis,  lib.  r. 

X  Sat.  XV.  139,  &  feq. 


\ 


Of     BENEVOLnNCE.  22^ 

them ;  and  it  is  difficult  to  abfLain  from  forn^ 
fally  of  panegyric,  as  often  as  they  occur  in  dif- 
courfe  or  reafoning.  But  our  objecft  here  !ving 
more  the  fpeculative,  than  the  pradlical  part  of  mo- 
rals, it  will  fuffice  to  remark,  (what  will  readily, 
I  believe,  be  allowed)  that  no  qualities  are  more 
intitled  to  the  general  good-will  and  approbation 
of  mankind  than  beneficence  and  humanity,  friend- 
fhip  and  gratitude,  natural  affection  and  public 
Ipirit,  or  whatever  proceeds  from  a  tender  fym- 
pathy  with  others,  and  a  generous  concern  for 
our  kind  and  fpecies.  Thefe,  wherever  they  ap- 
pear, feem  to  transfufe  themfelvcs,  in  a  mann'-r, 
into  each  beholder,  and  to  call  forth,  in  the;  own 
behalf,  the  fame  favourable  and  affectionate  fenti- 
ments,  which  they  exert  on  all  around. 

PART       II. 

We  may  obferve,  that,  in  difplaying  the  praifes 
of  any  humane,  beneficent  man,  there  is  one  cir- 
cumftance  which  never  fails  to  be  amply  infifbed 
on,  namely,  the  happinefs  and  fatisfaftion,  deriv- 
ed to  fociety  from  his  intercourfe  and  good  offices. 
To  his  parents,  we  are  apt  to  fay,  he  endears  him- 
felf  by  his  pious  attachment  and  duteous  care,  fbill 
}nore  than  by  the  connexions  of  nature.  His  chil- 
dren never  feel  his  authority,  but  when  employed 
for  their  advantage.  With  him,  the  ties  of  love 
are  confolidated  by  beneficence  and  friendffiip. 
The  ties  of  frienddiip  approach,  in  a  fond  obferv- 
ance  of  each  obliging  office,  to  thofe  of  love  and 
inclination.  His  domeflics  and  dependants  have  in 
him  a  fure  refource  ;  and  no  longer  dread  the  pow- 
er of  fortune,  but  fo  far  as  ffie  excrcifes  it  over  him. 
From  him  the  hungry  receive  food,  the  naked  cloath- 
ing,  the  ignorant  and  flothful  flci'l  and  induftry. 
I. ike  the  fun,  an  inferior  minifter  of  providence, 

'Vol.  II.  CL  ^e 


S26  SECTION      11. 

he  cheers,  invigorates,  and  luilains  the  furrounding' 
world. 

If  confined  to  private  life,  the  fphereof  his  adivi- 
ty  is  narrower;   but  his  influence  is  all  benign   and-, 
gentle.     If  exalted  into  a  higher  ftation,  mankind- 
and  pofterity  reap  the  fruit  of  his  labours. 

As  thefe  topics  of  praife  never  fail  to  be  employ- 
ed, and  with  fuccefs,  where  we  would  infpire  efteem 
for  any  one:  may  it  not  therk:e  be  concluded,  that 
the  Utility,  refulting  froni  the  focial  virtues,  forms, 
at  leaft,  a^<^r/ of  their  merit,  and  is  one  fource  of 
that  approbation  and  regard  fo  univerfally  paid  to 
them  ? 

When  we  recommend  even  an  animal  or  a  plant 
as  u/eful  and  leneficial,  v;e  give  it  an  applaufe  and 
recommendation  fuited  to  its  nature.  As,  on  the 
other  hand,  refledion  on  the  baneful  influence  of 
any  of  thefe  inferior  beings  always  infpires  us  with 
the  fentiment  of  averfion.  The  eye  is  pleafed 
with  the  profpecV  of  corn-fields  and  loaded  vine- 
yards; horfes  grazing,  and  flocks  pafturing  :  BuE 
iiiesthe  view  of  briars  and  brambles^  affording  fhel- 
ter  to  wolves  and  ferpents. 

A  machine,  a  j^iece  of  furniture^  a  veftment,  a 
houfe  well  contrived  fc>-r  ufc  and  convenicncy,  is  {o 
far  beautiful,  and  is  contemplated  with  pleafure  and 
approbation.  An  experienced  eye  is  here  fenfible 
to  many  excellencies,  which  cfcape  perfons  igno- 
rant and  uninilrudcd. 

Can  any  thing  (Wronger  be  faid  in  praife  of  a 
profeflion,  lUch  as  nierchandize  or  manufaiflure, 
than  to  obferve  the  advantages  which  it  procures  to 
fociety  ?  And  is  not  a  monk  and  iriquifitor  enraged 
when  we  treat  his  order  as  ulclefs  or  pernicious  to 
mankind  ? 

Ihe  hiRorian  exults  in  difplaying  the  benefit 
arifing  from  his  labours.  The  writer  of  romance 
alleviates  or  denies  the  bad  confequences  afcribed 
fo  his  manner  of  compofitioo. 

In 


Of     B  E   N'   E    V  O   L   E  N   C   E.  ll'J 

In  general,  what  praife  is  implied  in  the  fimple 
epithet  ujefiill  What  reproach  in  the  contrary  ! 

Your  God?,  fays  Cicero  '^,  in  oppofition  to  the 
Epicureans,  cannot  jullly  claim  any  worfhipor  ado- 
ration, with  whatever  imaginary  perfections  you 
may  fuppofe  them  endowed.  They  are  totally  ufe- 
lefs  and  unadive.  Even  the  Egyptians,  whom  you 
ib  much  ridicule,  never  confecratcd  any  animal 
but  on   account  of  its   utility. 

The  fceptics  aflert  f ,  though  abfurdly,  that  the 
origin  of  all  religious  worfuip  was  derived  from  the 
utility  of  inanimate  objeds,  as  the  fun  and  moon, 
to  the  fupport  and  well-being  of  mankind.  This 
is  alfo  the  common  reafon  alfigned  by  hiftorians, 
for  the  deification  of  eminent  heroes  and  legifla- 
tors  J. 

To  plant  a  tree,  to  cultivate  a  field,  to  beget  chil- 
dren ;  meritorious  acts,  according  to  the  religion 
of  Zoroafter. 

In  all  determinations  of  morality,  this  circum- 
ftance  of  public  utility  is  ever  principally  in  viewj 
and  wherever  difputes  arife,  either  in  philofophy  or 
common  life,  concerning  the  bounds  of  duty,  the 
queftion  cannot,  by  any  means,  be  decided  with 
greater  certainty,  than  by  afcertaining,  on  any 
fide,  the  true  interefls  of  mankind.  If  any  falfe 
opinion,  embraced  from  appearances,  has  been 
found  to  prevail ;  as  foon  as  farther  experience  and 
founder  reafoning  have  given  us  jufter  notions  of 
human  affairs;  we  retract  our  firii  fentiment,  and 
adjufl:  anew  the  boundaries  of  moral  good  and 
evil. 

Giving  alms  to  the  common  beggar  is  naturally 

praifed  ;   becaufe  it  feems  to  carry  relief  to  the  dif- 

trefied  and  indigent :  But  when  we  obferve  the  en- 

0^2  couragement 

*  De  Nat.  Deot.  lib.  i. 

t  Sext.  Emp.  adverfus  Math.  lib.  viii. 

t  Diod.  Sic.  paflim. 


228         S     E    C    T    I    O    N      II. 

couragement  thence  arifing  to  idlenefs  and  debauch- 
ery, we  regard  that  fpecies  of  charity  rather  as  a 
weaknefs  than  a  virtue. 

'Tyrannicide^  or  the  aflairmation  of  ufurpers  and 
oppreflive  princes,  was  highly  extolled  in  ancient 
times ;  becaufe  it  both  freed  mankind  from  many 
of  thefe  monfters,  and  feemed  to  keep  the  others 
in  awe,  whom  the  fword  or  pCigrtard  could  not 
reach.  But  hiftory  and  experience  having,  fince 
convinced  us,  that  this  praftice  encreafes  the  jea- 
loufy  and  cruelty  of  princes,  a  Timoleon  and  a 
Brutus,  though  treated  with  indulgence  on  account 
of  the  prejudices  of  their  times,  are  now  confider- 
ed  as  very  improper  models  for  imitation. 

Liberality  in  princes  is  regarded  as  a  mark  of  be- 
neficence :  But  when  it  occurs,  that  the  homely 
bread  of  the  honeft  and  induftrious  is  often  there- 
by converted  into  delicious  cates  for  the  idle  and 
the  prodigal,  we  foon  retraft  our  heedlefs  praifes. 
The  regrets  of  a  prince,  for  having  loft  a  day, 
were  noble  and  generous :  But  had  he  intended 
to  have  fpent  it  in  a6ts  of  generofity  to  his  greedy 
courtiers,  it  was  better  loft  than  mifemployed  after 
that  manner. 

Luxury,  or  a  refinement  on  the  pleafures  and 
conveniencies  of  life,  had  long  been  fuppofed  the 
fource  of  every  corruption  in  government,  and  the 
immediate  caufe  of  facStionj  fedition,  civil  wars, 
and  the  total  lofs  of  liberty.  It  was,  therefore, 
univerfally  regarded  as  a  vice,  and  was  an  objedt 
of  declamation  to  all  fatyrifts,  and  fevere  moralifts. 
Thofe,  who  prove,  or  attempt  to  prove,  that  fuch 
refinements  rather  tend  to  the  encreafe  of  induftry, 
civility,  and  arts,  regulate  anew  our  ?;;or^/  as  well 
as  political  fentimen's,  and  reprefent,  as  laudable 
or  innocent,  what  had  formerly  been  regarded  as 
pernicious  and   blameable. 

Upon  the  whole,  then,  it  feems  undeniable, /Z^^/ 
nothing  can  beftow  more  merit  on  any  human  crea- 
ture 


i 


of   Benevolence.  dig 

ture  than  the  fentiment  of  benevolence  In  an  emi- 
nent degree;  and  ihaf  a. part,  at  leaft,  of  its  me- 
rit arifes  from  its  tendency  to  promote  the  intcrefts 
of  our  fpecies,  and  beftow  happincfs  on  human  fo- 
ciety.  We  carry  our  view  into  the  falutary  confe- 
quences  of  fuch  a  charadler  and  difpofition  ;  and 
whatever  has  fo  benign  an  influence,  and  forwards 
fo  defirable  an  end,  is  beheld  with  complacency 
and  pleafure.  The  focial  virtues  are  never  regarded 
without  their  beneficial  tendencies,  nor  viewed  as 
barren  and  unfruitful.  The  happinefs  of  mankind, 
the  order  of  fociety,  the  harmony  of  families,  the 
mutual  fupport  of  friends,  are  always  confidered 
as  the  refult  of  their  gentle  dominion  over  the  breafts 
of  men. 

How  confiderable  a  part  of  their  merit  we  ought 
to  afcribe  to  their  utility,  will  better  appear  from 
future  difquifitions  *j  as  well  as  the  reafon,  why 
this  circumflance  has  fuch  a  command  over  our  ef- 
teem  and  approbation  f. 

•  Seft3dand4th.  f  Seft.  5th. 


S  E  C- 


(     ^31     ) 


?5 


SECTION     III. 

of    Justice. 
P    A    R    T      h 

i  HAT  Juftice  is  iifcful  to  Ibciety,  and  con- 
fequently  ths.<  part  of  its  merit,  at  leaft,  muft  arife 
from  that  confideration,  it  would  be  a  fuperfluous 
undertaking  to  prove.  That  public  utility  is  the 
fole  origin  of  juftice,  and  that  reflexions  on  the 
beneficial  confequences  of  this  virtue  are  the  fole 
foundation  of  its  merit;  this  propofition,  being 
jnore  curious  and  important,  will  better  deferve 
our  examination   and    enquiry. 

Let  us  fuppofe,  that  nature  has  beftowed  on  the 
human  race  iuch  profufe  abundance  of  all  external 
conveniencies,  that,  without  any  uncertainty  in 
the  event,  without  any  care  or  indullry  on  our 
part,  every  individual  finds  himfelf  fully  provided 
with  whatever  his  moll  voracious  appetites  can 
want,  or  luxurious  imagination  wifh  or  defire. 
His  natural  beauty,  we  fhall  fuppofe,  furpaffes  all 
acquired  ornaments:  The  perpetual  clemency  of 
the  feafons  renders  ufelefs  all  cloaths  or  covering: 
The  raw  herbage  affords  him  the  mod  delicious 
fare;  the  clear  fountain,  the  richeft  beverage.  No 
laborious  occupation  required:  No  tillage:  No 
navigation.  Mufic,  poetry,  and  contemplation 
form  his  fole  bufinefs :  Converfation,  mirth,  and 
friendlhip  his  fole  amufement, 

It 


232         SECTION      III. 

It  feems  evident,  that,  in  fuch  a  happy  ftatCj 
every  other  foclal  virtue  would  flourifh,  and  re- 
ceive tenfold  encreafe  ;  but  the  cautious,  jealous 
virtue  of  juftice  would  never  once  have  been 
dreamed  of.  For  what  purpofe  make  a  partition 
of  goods,  where  every  one  has  already  more  than 
enough  ?  Why  give  rife  to  property,  where  there 
cannot  poffibly  be  any  injury  ?  Why  call  this  ob- 
}tdi  miney  when,  upon  the  feizing  of  it  by  another, 
I  need  but  ftretch  out  my  hand  to  pofiefs  myfelf  of 
what  is  equally  vaiuable  ?  Jufticc,  in  that  cafe,  be- 
ing totally  Ufelf-fs,  would  be  an  idle  ceremonial, 
and  could  never  poliibly  have  place  in  the  cata- 
logue  of  virtues. 

We  fee,  even  in  the  prefent  neceflitous  conditi- 
on of  mankind,  that,  wherever  any  benefit  is  be- 
ftcwed  by  nature  in  an  unlimited  abundance,  we 
leave  it  always  in  common  among  the  whole  hu- 
man race,  and  make  no  fubdivifions  of  right  and 
property.  Water  and  air,  though  the  mcfl  neceffa- 
ry  of  all  objefts,  are  not  challenged  as  the  pro- 
perty of  individuals;  nor  can  any  man  commit  in- 
jullice  by  the  mod  lavifli  ufe  and  enjoyment  of 
thefe  blefiings.  In  fertile  extenfive  countries,  with, 
few  inhabitants,  land  is  regarded  on  the  fame 
footing.  And  no  topic  is  fo  much  infifted  on  by 
thofe,  who  defend  tiie  liberty  of  the  feas,  as  the 
unexhauited  ufe  of  them  in  navigation.  Were  the 
advantages,  procured  by  navigation,  as  inexhauft- 
ible,  thefe  reafoners  had  never  had  any  adverfaries 
to  refute  ,  nor  had  any  claims  ever  been  advanced 
ofaleparate,  exclufive  dominion  over  the  ocean. 

It  may  happen,  in  fome  countries,  at  fome  pe- 
riods, that  there  be  eftablifhed  a  property  in  water, 
none  in  land*;  if  the  latter  be  in  greater  abun- 
dance than  can  be  ufed  by  the  inhabitants,  and 
the  former  be  found,  with  difficulty,  and  in  very 
fmail  quantities. 

Again  -, 

*  Gencfis.  chap.  xiii.  a.nd  xxi. 


Of    Justice.  223 

Again  ;  fuppofe,  that,  though  the  neceffities  of 
human  race  continue  the  fame  as  at  prefent,  yet 
the  mind  is  fo  enlnrged,  and  fo  replete  with  friend- 
fhip  and  generofity,  that  every  man  has  the  utmoft 
tenderntrfs  for  every  man,  and  feels  no  more  con- 
cern for  his  own  intereft  than  for  that  of  his  fellows  : 
It  feems  evident,  that  the  Ufc  of  juftice  would, 
in  this  cafe,  be  fufpended  by  fuch  an  extenfive  be- 
nevolence, nor  would  the  divifions  and  barriers  of 
property  and  obligation  have  ever  been  thought  of. 
Why  lliould  I  bind  another,  by  a  deed  or  prom ife, 
to  do  me  any  good  office,  when  I  know  that  he 
is  already  prompted,  by  the  ftrongefl  inclination, 
to  feek  my  happinefs,  and  would,  of  himfeif,  per- 
form the  defired  fervice  j  except  the  hurt,  he  there- 
by receives,  be  greater  than  the  benefit  accruing 
to  me  ?  in  which  cafe,  he  knows,  that,  from  my 
innate  humanity  and  friendfhip,  I  fhould  be  the 
firfl  to  oppofe  myfelf  to  his  imprudent  generofity. 
Why  raife  land-marks  between  my  neighbour's 
field  and  mine,  when  my  heart  has  made  no  divi- 
fion  between  our  intereftsj  but  fhares  all  his  joys 
and  forrows  with  the  fame  force  and  vivacity  as  if 
originally  my  own  ?  Every  man,  upon  this  fup- 
pofition,  being  a  fecond  felf  to  another,  would 
truft  all  his  interefts  to  the  difcretion  of  every  man; 
without  jealoufy,  without  partition,  without  dif- 
tindlion.  And  the  whole  human  race  would  form 
only  one  family;  where  all  would  lie  in  common, 
and  be  ufed  freely,  without  regard  to  property  $ 
but  cautioufly  too,  with  as  entire  regard  to  the  ne- 
ceffities of  each  individual,  as  if  our  own  interells 
were  mod  intimately  concerned. 

-  In  the  prefent  difpofition  of  the  human  heart, 
it  would,  perhaps,  be  difficult  to  find  compleat 
inftances  of  fuch  enlarged  afi^edlions  ;  but  ftill  we 
may  obferve,  that  the  cafe  of  families  approaches 
towards  it ;  and  the  ftronger  the  mutual  benevo- 
lence 


.a34  S    E    C    T    I    O    N    III. 

lence  is  among  the  individuals,  the  nearer  it  ap-r 
-proachcs  J  till  all  diflinftion  of  property  be,  in  a 
^reac  nieafure,  lofl  and  confounded  amono-  them. 
Betiyeeji  married  perfons,  the  cement  of  friend- 
Ihip  is  by  the  law  fuppofed  fo  ftrong  as  to  abolifh 
all 'divifion  of  polTeHionsj  and  has  often,  in  rea- 
lity, the  force  afcribed  to  it.  And  it  is  obferv- 
able,  that,'  during  the  ardour  of  new  enthufiafms, 
when  every  principle  is  inflamed  into  extrava- 
gance, the  community  of  goods  has  frequently 
been  attempted;  and  iiorhing  but  experience  of 
its  inconveniencies,  from  the  returning:  or  difo-uifed 
felfifhnefs  of  men,  could  make  the  imprudent  fa- 
natics adopt  anew  the  idea,  of  juflice  and  of  fe- 
parate  property.  So  true  is  it,  that  this  virtue 
derives  its  exiftence  entirely  from  its  necefTary 
nfe  to  the  intercourfe  and  focial  ftate  of  man- 
kind. 

To  make  this  truth  more  evident,  let  us  reverfe 
the  foregoing  fuppofitions ;  and  carrying  every 
thing  to  the  oppofite  extreme,  confider  what 
would  be  the  effed;  of  thefe  new  fituations.  Sup- 
pofe  a  Ibciety  to  fall  into  fiich  want  of  all  com- 
mon necelTarics,  that  the  utmofb  frugality  and  in- 
dufbry  cannot  preferve  the  greater  number  from 
perifliing,  and  the  whole  from  extreme  mifery : 
It  will  readily,  I  believe,  be  admitted,  t-hat  the 
fcricSl  laws  of  juftice  are  fufpended,  in  fuc-ii  a 
prefiing  emergence,  and  give  place  to  the  ftrong- 
er  motives  of  neceflity  and  felf-prefcrvation.  Is 
it  any  crime,  after  a  fhipwreck,  to  feize  whatever 
means  or  inftrument  of  fafety  one  can  lay  hold, 
of,  without  regard  to  former  limitations  of  proper- 
ty ?  Or  if  a  city  befieged  were  perifhing  with 
hunger;  can  we  imagine,  that  men  will  fee  any 
means  of  prefervation  before  them,  and  lofe  their 
lives,  from  a  fcrupulous  regard  to  what,  in  o- 
ther  fituations,  would  be  the  rules  of  equity  and 
jultice  ?   The  Ufe   and  Tendency   of  that   virtue 

is 


Of  Justice.  235 

is  to  procure  happinefs  and  fecurity,  by  preferv- 
ing  ordtT  in  ibciety :  But  where  the  Ibciety  is 
ready  to  pcrilh  from  extreme  necefiity,  no  greater 
evil  can  be  dreaded  from  violence  and  injufticej 
and  every  man  may  now  provide  for  himfelf  by 
all  the  means,  which  prudence  can  dictate,  or  hu- 
manity- permit.  The  public,  even  in  Icfs  ur- 
gent" necellities,  opens  granaries,  without  the  con- 
lent  of  {)roprietars  ;  as  jullly  fuppofing,  that  the 
authority  of  magiflracy  may,  confiftent  with  e- 
quity,  exttnd  fo  far:  But  were  any  number  of 
men  to  afiemble,  without  the  tye  of  laws  or  ci- 
vil j urifdicfti on  ;  would  an  equal  partition  of  bread 
in  a  famine,  though  effedled  by  power'  and  even 
violence,   be  regarded  as   criminal   or  injurious? 

Suppofe  likewife,  that  it  fliould  be  a  virtu- 
ous man's  fate  to  fall  into  the  fociety  of  ruffians, 
remote  from  the  protection  of  laws  and  govern- 
fricntj  what  condu6t  muft  he  embrace  in  that 
melancholy  fituation  ?  he  fees  fuch  a  defperatc 
rapacioufnefs  prevail ;  fuch  a  difregard  to  equi- 
ty, fuch  contempt  of  order,  fuch  ftupid  blind- 
nefs  to  future  confcquences,  as  mufb  immediately 
have  the  mod  tragical  conclufion,  and  muft  ter- 
minate in  deilru(flion  to  the  greater  number, 
and  in  a  total  diflbluticn  of  fociety  to  the  reft. 
He,  mean  while,  can  have  no  other  expedient 
than  to  arm  himfelf,  to  whomever  the  fword  he 
feizes,  or  the  buckler,  may  belong :  To  make 
provifion  of  all  means  of  defence  and  fecurity  : 
And  his  particular  regard  to  juftice  being  no 
longer  of  Ufe  to  his  own  fafety  or  that  of  o- 
thers,  he  muft  confult  the  didates  of  felf-pre- 
fervation  alone,  without  concern  for  thofe  who 
no  longer  merit  his  care  and  attention. 

When  any  man,  even  in  political  fociety,  ren- 
ders   himfelf,    by   his   crimes,    obnoxious    to    the 
public,  he   is  puniflied   by  the  laws  in  his  goods 
and  perfon ;  that    is,    the    ordinary    rules   of  juf- 
tice 


asS        SECTION      III. 

tice  are,  with  regard  to  him,  fufpended  for  $, 
moment,  and  it  becomes  equitable  to  inflift  on 
him,  for  the  henefit  of  fociety,  what,  otherwife, 
he  could  not  fufFer  without  wrong  or  injury. 

The  rage  and  violence  of  public  warj  what  is 
it  but  a  fufpenfion  of  juftice  among  the  warring 
parties,  who  perceive,  that  this  virtue  is  now  no 
longer  of  any  uje  or  advantage  to  them  ?  The 
Jaws  of  war,  which  then  fucceed  to  thofe  of 
equity  and  juftice,  are  rules  calculated  for  the 
advantage  and  utility  of  that  particular  ftate,  in 
which  men  are  now  placed.  And  were  a  civi- 
lized nation  engaged  with  barbarians,  who  ob- 
ferved  no  rules  even  of  war ;  the  former  muft 
alfo  fufpend  their  obfervance  of  them,  where  they 
no  longer  ferve  to  any  purpofe  -,  and  muft  ren- 
der every  a6lion  or  rencounter  as  bloody  and  per- 
nicious as  pofTible  to  the  firft  aggreflbrs. 

Thus,  the  rules  of  equity  or  juftice  depend 
entirely  on  the  particular  ftate  and  condition, 
in  which  men  are  placed,  and  owe  their  origin 
and  exiftence  to  that  Utility,  which  refults  to 
the  public  from  their  ftrid  and  regular  obferv- 
ance. Reverfe,  in  any  confiderable  circumftance, 
the  condition  of  men  :  Produce  extreme  abund- 
ance or  extreme  neceflity  :  Implant  in  the  human 
breaft  perfe6l  moderation  and  humanity,  or  per- 
fe<^  rapacioufnefs  and  malice :  By  rendering  juf- 
tice totally  ufelefs,  you  thereby  totally  defttoy  its 
cflence,  and  fufpend  its  obligation  upon  man- 
kind. 

The  common  fituation  of  fociety  is  a  medium 
amidft  all  thefe  extremes.  We  are  naturally 
partial  to  ourfelves,  and  to  our  friends ;  but  are 
capable  of  learning  the  advantage  refulting  from 
a  more  equitable  condu6t.  Few  enjoyments  are 
given  us  from  the  open  and  liberal  hand  of  na- 
ture i    but    by   art,   labour,   and  induftry,  we  can 

extradt 


^ 


or   Justice.  237 

extrad  them  in  great  abundance.  Hence  the 
ideas  of  property  become  neceflary  in  all  civil 
fociety :  Hence  juftice  derives  its  ulefulnefs  to  the 
public :  And  hence  alone  arifes  its  merit  and  mo- 
ral obligation. 

Thefe  conclufions  are  fo  natural  and  obvious, 
that  they  have  not  efcaped  even  the  poets,  in 
their  defcriptions  of  the  felicity,  attending  the 
golden  age  or  the  reign  of  Saturn.  The  feafons, 
in  that  Hrft  period  of  nature,  were  fo  temperate, 
if  we  credit  thefe  agreeable  fiftions,  that  there 
was  no  necefTity  for  men  to  provide  themfelves 
with  cloaths  and  houfes,  as  a  fecurity  againil  the 
violence  of  heat  and  cold :  The  rivers  flowed 
with  wine  and  milk:  The  oaks  yielded  honey; 
and  nature  fpontaneoufly  produced  her  greateft 
delicacies.  Nor  were  thefe  the  chief  advantages 
of  that  happy  age.  Tempefts  were  not  alon*e 
removed  from  nature ;  but  thofe  more  furious 
tempefts  were  unknown  to  human  breafts,  whick. 
now  caufe  fuch  uproar,  and  engender  fuch  con- 
fufion.  Avarice,  ambition,  cruelty,  felfifhnefs, 
were  never  heard  of:  Cordial  affection,  compaf- 
fion,  fympathy,  were  the  only  movements  with 
which  the  mind  was  yet  acquainted.  Even  the 
pundtilious  diltin^lion  of  mi?7e  and  thine  was  ba- 
nifhed  from  among  that  happy  race  of  mortals, 
and  carried  with  it  the  very  notion  of  property  and 
obligation,  juftice  and  injuftice. 

This  poetical  fiction  of  the  golden  age  is,  in 
fome  refpefts,  of  a  piece  with  the  philofophical 
fi6tion  of  the  Jiate  of  nature  -,  only  that  the  for- 
mer is  reprefented  as  the  moft  charming  and 
moil  peaceable  condition,  which  can  poffibly  be 
imagined  ;  whereas  the  latter  is  painted  out  as  a 
ftate  of  mutual  war  and  violence,  attended  with 
the  moft  extreme  neceflity.  On  the  firft  origin 
of  mankind,  we  are  told,  their  ignorance  and  fa- 
vage  nature   were    fo  prevalent,    that  they  could 


238  SECTION      III. 

,give  no  mutual  truft,  but  muft  each  depend  upon 
himfelf,  and  his  own  force  or  cunning  for  protec- 
tion and  fecurity.  No  law  was  heard  of:  No 
rule  of  juftice  known  :  No  diftinftion  of  property 
regarded  :  Power  was  the  only  meafure  of  right  j 
and  a  perpetual  war  of  all  againft  all  was  the  refult 
of  men's  untamed  felfifhnefs  and  barbarity  *. 

Whether  fuch  a  condition  of  human  nature  could 
ever  exifl,  or  if  it  did,  could  continue  fo  long  as 
to  merit  the  appellation  of  a  Jiate,  may  juftly  be 
doubted.  Men  are  neceffarily  born  in  a  family- 
fociety,  at  lead  ;  and  are  trained  up  by  their  pa- 
rents to  fome  rule  of  conduft  and  behaviour. 
But  this  mull  be  admitted,  that,  if  fuch  a  flate  of 
mutual  war  and  violence  was  ever  real,  the  fuf- 
penfion  of  all  laws  of  juftice,  from  their  abfolute 
inutility,  is  a  necefiary  and  infallible  confequence. 

The  m.ore  we  vary  the  views  of  human  life,  and 
the  newer  and  more  unufual  the  lights  are,  in 
which  we  furvey  it,  the  more  Ihall  we  be  con- 
vinced, that  the  origin  here  afTigned  for  the  virtue 
of  iuftice  is  real  and  fatisfa£lory. 

Were  there  a  fpecies  of  creatures,  intermingled 
with  men,  which,  though  rational,  were  pofTelT- 
ed  of  fuch  inferior  ftrength,  both  of  body  and 
mind,  that  they  were  incapable  of  all  refiftance, 
and  could  nevef,  upon  the  higheft  provocation, 
make  us  feel  the  effefts  of  their  refcntment ;  the 
necefiary  confequence,  I  think,  is,  that  we  fhould 
be  bound,  by  the  laws  of  humanity,  to  give 
gentle  ufage  to  thefe  creatures,  but  jfhould  not, 
properly  fpeaking,  lie  under  any  rcftraint  of  juf- 
tice, with  regard  to  them,  nor  could  they  polfefs 
any  right  or  property,  exclufive  of  fuch  arbitra- 
ry lords.  Our  intercourfe  with  them  could  not 
be   called   fociety,    which    fuppofes   a    degree    of 

equality ; 

*  See   NOTE  [S]. 


of     J  U  S  T  I  C  Ei  229 

equality ;  but  abfolute  command  on  the  one  fide, 
and  fervile  obedience  on  the  other.  Whatever 
we  covet,  they  muft  inftantly  refign  :  Our  per- 
mifiion  is  the  only  tenure,  by  which  they 
hold  their  poiTeirions  :  Our  companion  and  kind- 
nefs  the  only  check,  by  which  they  curb  our 
lawlefs  will  :  And  as  no  inconvenience  ever 
refults  from  the  exercife  of  a  power,  fo  firn^.ly 
cftablilhcd  in  nature,  the  rcflraints  of  jullice  and 
property,  being  totally  u/elc/s,  would  never  have 
place  in  fo   unequal  a  confederacy. 

This  is  plainly  the  fituation  of  men,  vv^ith  re- 
gard to  animals ;  and  how  far  thefe  may  be  laid 
to  poiTcfs  reafoil',  I  leave  it  to  others  to  deter- 
iViifte.  The  great  fuperiority  of  civilized  Euro- 
peans   above    barbarous    Indians,    tempted  us   to 

imae;ine  ourfelves  on  the   fame  footins;  with    re- 
ts o 

gard  to  them,  and  made  us  throw  off  all  re- 
itraints  of  jtiftice,  and  even  of  humanity,  in  our 
treatment  of  them.  In  many  nations,  the  female 
fex  are  reduced  to  like  flavery,  and  are  render- 
ed incapable  of  all  property,  in  oppofition  to 
their  lordly  mailers.  But  though  the  males,  when 
united,  have,  in  all  countries,  bodily  force  fuffi- 
eient  to  maintain  this  fevere  tyranny  j  yet  fuch 
are  the  inlinuation,  addrefs,  and  charms  of  their 
fair  companions,  that  women  are  commonly  able 
to  break  the  confederacy,  and  fliare  with  the  o- 
ther  fex  in  all  the  rights  and  privileges  of  fo- 
ciety. 

Were  the  human  fpecies  fo  framed  by  nature  as 
that  each  individual  poffeiTcd  within  himfelf  every 
faculty,  requifite  both  for  his  own  prefervaticn 
and  for  the  propagation  of  his  kind:  Were  all  fo- 
ciety  and  intercourfe  cut  off  between  man  and 
man,  by  the  primary  intention  of  the  fupreme 
Creator  :  It  feems  evident,  that  fo  folitary  a  be- 
ing would  be  as  much  incapable  of  juftice,  as  of 
fociai  difcourfe  and  converfation.     Where  mutual 

regards 


i40         SECTION      III. 

regards  and  forbearance  ferve  to  no  manner  of 
purpofe,  they  would  never  direft  the  conduct  of  any 
reafonable  man.  The  headlong  courfe  of  the  paf- 
fions  would  be  checked  by  no  refleftion  on  fu- 
ture confequences.  And  as  each  man  is  here 
fuppofed  to  love  himfelf  alone,  and  to  depend 
only  on  himfelf  and  his  own  adVivity  for  fafety 
and  happjnefs,  he  would,  on  every  occafion,  to 
the  utmoft  of  his  power,  challenge  the  preference 
above  every  other  being,  to  none  of  which  he  is 
bound  by  any  ties,  either  of  nature  or  of  in- 
tercft. 

But  fuppofe  the  conjunftion  of  the  fexes  to 
be  eftablilhed  in  nature,  a  family  immediately 
arifes ;  and  particular  rules  being  found  requifite 
for  its  fubfiftence,  thefe  are  immediately  embrac- 
ed j  though  without  comprehending  the  reft  of 
mankind  within  their  prefcriptions.  Suppofe,  that 
feveral  families  unite  together  into  one  fociety, 
which  is  totally  disjoined  from  all  others,  the 
ruler,  which  preferve  peace  and  order,  enlarge 
themfelves  to  the  utmoft  extent  of  that  fociety  j 
but  becoming  then  entirely  ufeVls,  lofe  their  force 
when  carried  one  ftep  farther.  But  again  fup- 
pofe, that  ftveral  diftindt  focieties  maintain  a  kind 
of  intercourfe  for  mutual  convenience  and  ad- 
vantage, the  boundaries  of  juftice  ftill  grow  lar- 
ger, in  proportion  to  the  largenefs  of  men's  views, 
and  the  force  of  their  mutual  connexions.  Hif- 
tory,  experience,  reafon  fufficiently  inftrudt  us  in 
this  natural  progrefs  of  human  fentiments,  and  in 
the  gradual  enlargement  of  our  regards  to  juftice, 
in  proportion  as  we  become  acquainted  with  the 
cxtenfive  utility  of  that  virtue. 

PART      II. 

If  we  examine  the  pnyticidar  laws,  by  which  juf- 
tice is  direi^cd,  and  property  determined;  we  fliall 

ftill 


of  Justice.  241 

ftill  be  prefented  with  the  fame  conclufion.  The 
good  of  mankind  is  the  only  obje6l  of  all  thefe 
laws  and  regulations.  Not  only  it  is  requifite,  for 
the  peace  and  intereft:  of  fociety,  that  men's  pof- 
lefTions  flioiild  be  feparated ;  but  the  rules  which 
we  follow,  in  making  the  feparation,  are  fuch  as 
can  beft  be  contrived  to  ferve  farther  the  interells 
of  fociety. 

We  fhall  fuppofe,  that  a  creature,  pofTefled  of 
reafon,  but  unacquainted  with  human  nature,  de- 
liberates with  himfelf  what  RULES  of  juftice  or 
property  would  beft  promote  public  intereft,  and 
eftablifh  peace  and  fecurity  among  mankind  :  His 
moft  obvious  thought  would  be,  to  afllgn  the 
Jargeft  pofiefTions  to  the  moft  extenfive  virtue,  and 
give  every  one  the  power  of  doing  good,  propor- 
tioned to  his  inclination.  In  a  perfedt  theocracy, 
where  a  being,  infinitely  intelligent,  governs  by 
particular  volitions,  this  rule  would  certainly  have 
place,  and  might  ferve  to  the  wifeft  purpofes  :  But 
were  mankind  to  execute  fuch  a  law ;  i^o  great  is 
the  uncertainty  of  merit,  both  from  its  natural  ob- 
fcurity,  and  from  the  felf-conceit  of  each  indi- 
vidual, that  no  determinate  rule  of  conduct  would 
ever  refult  from  it ;  and  the  total  difTolution  of 
fociety  mutl  be  the  immediate  confequence.  Fa- 
natics may  fuppofe,  that  dominion  is  founded  on 
gracCy  and  that  faints  alone  inherit  the  earth  i  but 
the  civil  magidrate  very  juftly  puts  thefe  fub- 
lime  theorifls  on  the  fame  footing  with  common 
robbers,  and  teaches  them  by  the  fevereft  dif- 
cipline,  that  a  rule,  which,  in  fpeculation,  may 
feem  the  moft  advantageous  to  fociety,  may  yet  be 
found,  in  practice,  totally  pernicious  and  deftruc- 
tive. 

That  there  were  religious  fanatics  of  this  kind  in 
England,  during  the  civil  wars,  we  learn  from  hif- 
tory;  though  it  is  probable,  that  the  obvious /^«- 
dency   of  thefe   principles   excited   fuch  horror  in 

Vol.  II.  R  mankind, 


242  SECTION     III. 

mankind,  as  foon  obliged  the  dangerous  enthu- 
fiafts  to  renounce,  or  at  leaft  conceal  their  tenets. 
Perhaps,  the  levelle?'S;  who  claimed  an  equal  dif- 
tribution  of  property,  were  a  kind  of  poliiical  fa- 
natics which  arofe  from  the  religious  fpecies,  and 
more  openly  avowed  their  pretenfions  j  as  carrying 
a  more  plaufible  appearance,  of  being  pradicable 
in    themlclves,  as  well  as  ufeful  ta  human  focie- 

It  muft,  indeed,  be  confefTed,  that  nature  is  {o 
liberal  to  mankind,  that,  were  all  her  prefents 
equally  divided  among  the  fpecies,  and  improved 
by  art  and  induilry,  every  individual  would  enjoy 
ail  the  neceflaries,  and  even  mod  of  the  comforts 
of  life  ;  nor  would  ever  be  liable  to  any  ills,  but 
fuch  as  might  accidentally  arife  from  the  fickly 
frame  and  conftitution  of  his  body.  It  muft  alfo 
be  confefled,  that,  wherever  we  depart  from  this 
equality,  we  rob  the  poor  of  more  fatisfadion  than 
we  add  to  the  rich,  and  that  the  flight  gratificati- 
on of  a  frivolous  vanity,  in  one  individual,  fre- 
quently cofts  more  than  bread  to  many  families, 
and  even  provinces.  It  may  appear  withal,  that 
the  rule  of  equality,  as  it  would  be  highly  ufe- 
ful^ is  not  altogether  impra5iicable ;  but  has  taken 
place,  at  leaft  in  an  imperfed:  degree,  in  fome  re- 
publics; particularly  that  of  Sparta;  where  it  was 
attend,  it  is  laid,  with  the  moft  beneficial  con- 
fequences.  Not  to  mention,  that  the  Agrarian 
laws,  fo  frequently  claimed  in  Rome,  and  carri- 
ed into  execution  in  many  Greek  cities,  proceed- 
ed, all  of  them,  from  a  general  idea  of  the  utility^ 
of  this  principle. 

But  hiftorians,  and  even  common  fenfe,  may  in- 
form us,  that,  however  fpecious  thefe  ideas  oi fer- 
fetf  equality  may  feem,  they  are  really,  at  bottom, 
InfraoJicahle ;  and  were  they  not  fo,  would  be  ex- 
tremely pernicious  to  human  fociety.  Render  pof- 
fefiions  ever  (o  equal,  men's  dificrent  degrees  of 

art. 


Of  Justice.  24J 

art,  care,  and  induflry  will  Immediately  break  that 
equality.  Or  it  you  check  thcfe  virtues,  you  re- 
duce fociety  to  the  moft  extreme  indigence ;  and 
inftfad  of  preventing  want  and  beggary  in  a  few, 
render  it  unavoidable  to  the  whole  community. 
The  moft  rigorous  inquifition  too  is  requifite  to 
watch  every  inequality  on  its  firil  appearance  5  and 
the  moft  fevere  jurifdidion,  to  punilh  and  redrefs 
it.  But  befidcs,  that  ^o  much  authority  muft  (oon 
degenerate  into  tyranny,  and  be  exerted  with  great 
partialities  ;  who  can  pollibly  be  poffeiTed  of  it,  in 
fuch  a  fituation  as  is  here  fuppofed  ?  Perfedt  equa- 
lity of  pofteiHons,  deftroying  all  fubordination, 
weakens  extremely  the  authority  of  magiftracy, 
and  muft  reduce  ail  powernearly  to  a  level,  as  well 
SiS  property. 

We  may  conclude,  therefore,  that,  in  order  to 
cftablifti  laws  tor  the  regulation  of  property,  we 
muft  be  acquainted  with  the  nature  and  fituation 
of  man  j  muft  rejedt  appearances,  which  may  be 
falfe,  though  fpecious  J  and  muft  fearch  for  thofe 
rules,  which  arc,  on  the  whoie,  moft  uf^ful  and 
beneficial.  Vulgar  fenfe  and  llight  experience  are 
fufficient  for  this  purpofe ;  when  men  give  not 
way  to  too  feinfti  avidity,  or  too  exteniive  en- 
thufi;'.fm. 

Who  fees  not,  for  inft^nce,  that  whatever  is 
produced  or  improved  by  a  man's  art  or  induftry 
ought,  for  ever,  to  be  fecured  to  him,  in  order  to 
give  encouragement  to  ujeful  habits  and  accom-. 
plifliments  ?  That  the  property  ought  alfo  to  de- 
fcend  to  children  and  relations,  for  the  fame  ujeful 
purpofe  ?  That  it  may  be  alienated  by  confent,  in 
order  to  beget  that  commerce  and  intercourlc, 
which  is  fo  beneficial  to  human  fociety  ?  And  that 
all  contra(5ls  and  promifes  ought  carefully  to  be  ful- 
filled, in  order  to  fecure  mutual  truft  and  confi- 
dence, by  which  the  general  interefi  of  mankind  is 
lo  much  proir.cted  ? 

R  a  -  Examine 


i44  SECTION      III. 

Examine  the  writers  on  the  laws  of  nature ;  and 
you  will  always  find,  that,  whatever  principles  they 
{tt  out  with,  they  are  fure  to  terminate  here  at  lad, 
and  to  afTign,  as  the  ultimate  reafon  for  every  rule 
which  they  eftablifh,  the  convenience  and  necefli- 
ties  of  mankind.  A  conceffion  thus  extorted,  in 
oppofition  to  fyflems,  has  more  authority,  than  if 
it  had  been  made  in  profecution  of  them. 

What  other  reafon,  indeed,  could  writers  ever 
give,  why  this  muft  be  mine  and  that  yours  ;  fince 
uninftrudled  nature,  furely,  never  made  any  fuch 
diftindion  ?  The  objedls,  which  receive  thofe  ap- 
pellations, are,  of  themfelves,  foreign  to  us  j  they 
are  totally  disjoined  and  feparated  from  us ;  and 
nothing  but  the  general  interells  of  fociety  can 
form  the  connexion. 

Sometimes,  the  interells  of  fociety  may  require 
a  rule  of  juflice  in  a  particular  cafe;  but  may  not 
determine  any  particular  rule,  among  feveral,  which 
are  all  equally  beneficial.  In  that  cafe,  the  ilighteft 
analogies  are  laid  hold  of,-  in  order  to  prevent  that 
indifi^erence  and  ambiguity,  which  would  be  the. 
fource  of  perpetual  difl^ention.  Thus  polTeflion 
alone,  and  firil  poirelTion,  is  fuppofed  to  convey 
property,  where  no  body  elfe  has  any  preceding 
claim  and  pretenfion.  Many  of  the  reafonings  of 
lawyers  are  of  this  analogical  nature,  and  depend 
on  very  flight  connexions  of  the  imagination. 

Does  any  one  fcruple,  in  extraordinary  cafes, 
to  violate  all  regard  to  the  private  property  of 
individuals,  and  facrifice  to  public  intereft  a  dif- 
tindion,  which  had  been  eftabliflied  for  the  fake 
of  that  intereft  ?  The  fafety  of  the  people  is  the 
fupreme  law  :  All  other  particular  laws  are  fubor- 
dinate  to  it,  and  dependant  on  it:  And  if,  in  the 
common  courfe  of  things,  they  be  followed  and  re- 
garded ;  it  is  only  becaufe  the  public  fafety  and  in- 
tereft commonly  demand  io  equal  and  impartial  an 
adminiftration. 

Sometimes 


Of   Justice.  245 

Sometimes  both  utility  and  analogy  fail,  and  leave 
the  laws  of  jufticc  in  total  uncertainty.  Thus,  it  is 
highly  requifite,  that  prefcription  or  long  polTeflion 
fliould  convey  property  ;  but  what  number  of  days 
or  months  or  years  fhould  be  fufficient  for  that 
purpofe,  it  is  impoflible  for  reafon  alone  to  deter- 
mine. Civil  laivs  here  fupply  the  place  of  the  na- 
tural code,  and  affign  different  terms  for  prefcrip- 
tion, according  to  the  different  utilities^  propofed 
by  the  legiflator.  Bills  of  exchange  and  promif- 
fory  notes,  by  the  laws  of  moft  countries,  prefcribe 
fooner  than  bonds,  and  mortgages,  and  contrails 
of  a  more  formal  nature. 

In  general,  we  may  obferve,  that  all  queftions 
of  property  are  fubordinate  to  the  authority  of  ci  • 
vil  laws,  which  extend,  reftrain,  modify,  and  al- 
ter the  rules  of  natural  juftice,  according  to  the 
particular  convenience  of  each  community.  The 
laws  have,  or  ought  to  have,  a  confrant  reference 
to  the  conltitution  of  government,  the  manners, 
the  climate,  the  religion,  the  commerce,  the  fitu- 
ation  of  each  fociety.  A  late  author  of  genius, 
as  well  as  learning,  has  profecuted  this  fubjecl  at 
large,  and  has  eftablillied,  from  thef?  principles, 
a  fyftem  of  political  knowledge,  which  abounds  in 
ingenious  and  brilliant  thoughts,  and  is  not  want- 
ing in  folidity  *. 

What  is  a  marHs  property  ?  Any  thing,  which  it 
is  lawful  for  him,  and  for  him  alone,  to  ufe 
But  what  rule  hp-ve  wCj  by  which  we  can  diftin- 
guijh  thefe  ohje5ls  ?  Here  we  muft  have  recourfe 
to  ftatutes,  cuftoms,  precedents,  analogies,  and  a 
hundred  other  circumftances  -,  fome  of  which  are 
conflant  and  inflexible,  fome  variable  and  arbitra- 
ry. But  the  ultimate  point,  in  which  they  all 
profeffedly  terminate,  is,    the  intereft  and  happi- 

nefs 

t  See    NOTE    [O]. 


246  SECTION       III. 

ncfs  of  human  fociety.  Where  this  enters  not 
into  confideration,  nothing  can  appear  mofe  whiiTi- 
fical,  unnatural,  and  even  fuperftitio'is,  than  all 
ormoft  of  the  laws  ofjuftice  and  of  property. 

Thofe,  who  ridicule  vulgar  fuperftitions,  and 
expofe  the  folly  of  particular  regards  to  nneats, 
days,  places,  poftures,  apparel,  have  aneafytafkj 
while  they  confider  all  the  qualities  and  relations 
of  the  objefts,  and  difcover  no  adequate  caufe 
for  that  affedlion  or  antipathy,  veneration  or  hor- 
ror, which  have  fo  mighty  an  influence  over  a 
confiderable  part  of  mankind.  A  Syrian  woold 
have  ftarved  rather  than  tafte  pigeon  ;  an  Egyp- 
tian woi-.ld  not  have  approached  bacon  :  But  if 
thefe  fpecies  of  food  be  examined  by  the  fenfes 
of  fight,  fmell,  or  tafte,  or  fcrutinized  by  the  fci- 
ences  of  chymiflry,  medicine,  or  phyfics ;  no  dif- 
ference is  ever  found  between  them  and  any  other 
fpecies,  nor  can  that  precife  circumflance  be 
pitched  on,  which  may  afford  a  juft  foundati- 
on for  the  religious  pallion.  A  fowl  on  Thurf- 
day  is  lawful  food  ;  on  Friday  abominable :  Eggs, 
in  this  houfe,  and  in  this  diocefe,  are  permit- 
ted during  Lent ;  a  hundred  paces  farther,  to  eat 
them  is  a  damnable  fm.  This  earth  or  building, 
yefterday  was  profane ;  to-day,  by  the  muttering 
of  certain  words,  it  has  become  holy  and  facred. 
Such  reflections  as  thefe,  in  the  mouth  of  a  phi- 
lofopher,  one  may  fafely  fay,  are  too  obvious  to 
have  any  influence ;  becaufe  they  mud  always, 
to  every  man,  occur  at  firft  fight ;  and  where 
they  prevail  not,  of  themfclves,  they  are  furely 
ob{lru6ted  by  education,  prejudice,  and  paffion, 
not  by  ignorance  or  miftake. 

It  may  appear  to  a  carelefs  view,  or  rather  a 
too  abftrailed  reflexion,  that  there  enters  a  like 
fuperltition  into  all  the  fentiments  ofjuftice;  and 
that,   if  a  man  expofe  its  objed,  or  what  we  call 

property. 


% 


4 


Of     Ju  STI  CE.  247 

property,  to  the  fame  fcrutiny  of  fenfe  and  fcience, 
he  will  not,  by  the  moil  accurate  enquiry,  find 
any  foundation  for  the  difference  m.ide  by  moral 
fentiment.  I  may  lawfully  nourifh  myfelf  from 
this  tree ;  but  the  fruit  of  another  of  tiie  fame 
fpecies,  ten  paces  oif,  it  is  criminal  for  me  to 
touch.  Had  I  worne  this  apparel  an  hour  ago,  1 
had  merited  the  feverell  punifhment ;  but  a  man, 
by  pronouncing  a  few  magical  fyllables,  has  now 
rendered  it  fit  for  my  ufe  and  fervice.  Were  this 
houfe  placed  in  the  neighbouring  territory,  it  had 
been  immoral  for  me  to  dwell  m  it ;  but  being 
built  on  this  fide  the  river,  it  is  fubjeft  to  a  dif-^ 
fercnt  municipal  law,  and,  by  its  becoming  mine, 
I  incur  no  blame  or  cenfure.  The  fame  fpecies 
of  reafoning,  it  may  be  thought,  which  fo  fuccefs- 
fully  expofes  fuperftition,  is  alfo  applicable  tojuf- 
ticej  nor  is  it  pofliblc,  in  the  one  cafe  more  than 
in  the  other,  to  point  out,  in  the  object,  that  pre- 
cife  quality  or  circumftance,  which  is  the  founda- 
tion of  the  fentiment. 

But  there  is  this  material  difference  between 
fuperfiition  zndjujiice,  that  the  former  is  frivolous, 
ufelefs,  and  burdenfome  ;  the  latter  is  abfolutely 
requifite  to  the  well-being  of  mankind  and  exif- 
tence  of  fociety.  When  we  abftrad  from  this  cir- 
cumftance (for  it  is  too  apparent  ever  to  be  over- 
looked) it  muft  be  confeifed,  that  all  regards  to 
right  and  property,  feem  entirely  without  founda- 
tion, as  much  as  the  groffeft  and  moft  vulgar  fu- 
perftition. Were  the  interefts  of  fociety  nowife 
concerned,  it  is  as  unintelligible,  why  another's 
articulating  certain  founds  implying  confent,  ftiould 
change  the  pature  of  my  actions  with  regard  to  a 
particular  objed:,  as  why  the  reciting  of  a  liturgy 
by  a  prieft,  in  a  certain  habit  and  pofture,  fhould 
dedicate  a  heap  of  brick  and  timber,  and  render  it, 
thenceforth  and  for  ever,  facred  *. 

Thefc 
•  See  NOTE  [U], 


248  SECTION        III. 

Thefe  refieftions  are  far  from  weakening  the 
obligations  of  juflice,  or  diminifhing  any  thing 
from  the  moft  facred  attention  to  property.  On 
the  contrary,  fuch  fentiment  muft  acquire  new 
force  from  the  prefent  reafoning.  For  the  ftron- 
ger  foundation  can  be  defired  or  conceived  for 
any  duty,  than  to  obferve,  that  human  fociety, 
or  even  human  nature  could  fubfift,  without  the 
eflablifhment  of  it^  and  will  Hill  arrive  at  grea- 
ter degree  of  happinefs  and  perfedlion,  the  more 
inviolable  the  regard  is,  which  is  paid  to  that 
duty  ? 

The  dilemma  feems  obvious:  As  juftlce  evi- 
dently tends  to  promote  public  utility  and  to 
fupport  civil  fociety,  the  fentiment  of  juflice  is 
either  derived  from  our  refleding  on  that  ten- 
dency, or  like  hunger,  thirft,  and  other  appe- 
tites, refentment,  love  of  life,  attachment  to  off- 
fpring,  and  other  paflions,  arifes  from  a  funple 
original  inftincl  in  the  human  breaft,  which  na- 
ture has  implanted  for  like  falutary  purpofes.  If 
th?  latter  be  the  cafe,  it  follows,  that  property, 
which  is  the  obje6l  of  juflice,  is  alfo  diflinguifh- 
ed  by  a  fimple,  original  inflin6l,  and  is  not  af- 
certained  by  any  argument  or  reflection.  But 
who  is  there  that  ever  heard  of  fuch  an  inftincl  ^ 
Or  is  this  a  fubjeft,  in  which  new  difcoveries  can 
be  made?  We  may  as  well  exped:  to  difcover, 
in  the  body,  new  fenfes,  which  had  before  ef- 
caped  the  obfervation  of  all  mankind. 

But  farther,  though  it  feems  a  very  fimple  pro- 
pofition  to  fay,  that  nature,  by  an  inllinftive  fen- 
timent, diflinguifnes  property,  yet  in  reality  we 
fliall  find,  that  there  are  required  for  that  pur- 
pofe  ten  thoufand  different  infliniSts,  and  thefe  em- 
ployed about  objeds  of  the  greatefl  intricacy  and 
nicefl  difcernment.  For  when  a  detinition  of 
■property  is  required,  that  relation  is  found  to  re- 
folye    itfelf  into   any    poflefiion    acquired   by  oc- 

Qupation, 


of  Justice.  249 

cupation,  by  induftry,  by  prefcription,  by  inhe- 
ritance, by  contraft,  &c.  Can  we  think,  that 
nature,  by  an  original  inftindb,  inilruds  us  in  all 
thefe    methods  of  acquifition  ? 

Thcle  words  too,  inheritance  and  contra^V,  ftand 
for  ideas  infinitely  complicated;  and  to  define 
them  exactly,  a  hundred  volumes  of  laws,  and 
a  thoufand  volumes  of  commentators,  have  not 
been  found  fufficient.  Does  nature,  whofe  in- 
ftincts  in  men  are  all  fimple,  embrace  fuch  com- 
plicated and  artificial  objects,  and  create  a  ratio- 
nal creature  without  trufting  any  thing  to  the 
operation  of  his   reafon  ? 

But  even  though  all  this  were  admitted,  it 
would  not  be  fatisfactory.  Fofitive  laws  can  cer- 
tainly transfer  property.  Is  it  by  another  ori- 
ginal inftinct,  that  we  recognize  the  authority  of 
kings  and  fenates,  and  mark  all  the  boundaries 
of  their  jurifdiction  ?  Judges  too,  even  though 
their  fentence  be  erroneous  and  illegal,  muft  be 
allowed,  for  the  fake  of  peace  and  order,  to  have 
decifive  authority,  and  ultimately  to  determine 
property.  Have  we  original,  innate  ideas  of  prae- 
tors and  chancellors  and  juries  ?  Who  fees  not, 
that  all  thefe  inftitutions  arife  merely  from  the 
neceflities  of  human  fociety  ? 

All  birds  of  the  fame  fpecies  in  every  age  and 
country,  build  their  nefts  alike :  In  this  we  fee 
the  force  of  inftinct.  Men,  in  different  times 
and  places,  frame  their  houfes  differently:  Here 
we  perceive  the  influence  of  reafon  and  cuftom, 
A  like  inference  may  be  drawn  from  compar- 
ing the  inflincft  of  generation  and  the  inftituti-* 
on  of  property. 

How  great  foever  the  variety  of  municipal  laws, 
it  muft  be  confeffed,  that  their  chief  out-lines 
pretty  regularly  concur  j  becaufe  the  purpofes,  to 
which  they  tend,  are  every  where  exactly  fimilar. 
In  like  manner,  all  houfes  have  a  roof  and  walls, 

windows 


150  SECTION      III. 

windows  and  chimneys  j  though  diverfified  in  their 
fhape,  figure,  and  materials.  The  purpofes  of  the 
latter,  directed  to  the  conveniencies  of  human 
life,  difcovcr  not  more  plainly  their  origin  from 
reafon  and  refleftion,  than  do  thofe  of  the  for- 
mer, which  point  all  to  a  like  end. 

I  need  not  mention  the  variations,  which  all  the 
rules  of  property  receive  from  the  finer  turns  and 
connexions  of  the  imagination,  and  from  the  fub- 
tilties  and  abftraftions  of  law-topics  and  reafon- 
ings.  There  is  no  poflibility  of  reconciling  this 
obfcrvation  to  the  notion  of  original  inftinfts. 

What  alone  will  beget  a  doubt  concerning  the 
theory,  on  which  I  infift,  is  the  influence  of  edu- 
cation and  acquired  habits,  by  which  we  are  fo 
accuftomed  to  blame  injuftice,  that  we  are  not, 
in  every  inftance,  confcious  of  any  immediate  re- 
flexion on  the  pernicious  confequences  of  it. 
The  views  the  moft  familiar  to  us  are  apt,  for 
that  very  reafon,  to  efcape  us;  and  what  we 
have  very  frequently  performed  from  certain  mo- 
tives, we  are  apt  likewife  to  continue  mechani- 
cally, without  recalling,  on  every  occafion,  the 
reflections,  which  firft  determined  us.  The  con- 
venience, or  rather  necelTity,  which  leads  to  juf- 
tice,  is  fo  univerfal,  and  every  where  points  fo 
much  to  the  fame  rules,  that  the  habit  takes  place 
in  all  focieties;  and  it  is  not  without  fome  fcru- 
tiny,  that  we  are  able  to  afcertain  its  true  origin. 
The  matter,  however,  is  not  fo  obfcure,  but  that, 
even  in  common  life,  we  have,  every  moment, 
recourfe  to  the  principal  of  public  utility,  and 
ailc,  PFhat  miifi  become  of  the  worlds  if  fuch  pra^i^ 
ces  prevail':^  How  could  fociety  fuhfifi  under  fuch 
diforders  ?  Were  the  diftinction  or  feparation  of 
puildiions  entirely  ufelefs,  can  any  one  conceive, 
that  it  ever  fhould  have  obtained  in  fociety  ? 

Thus  we  feem,  upon  the  whole,  to  have  attained 
a  knowledge  of  the  force  of  that  principle  here  in- 
fifled  on,  and  can  determine  what  degree  of  ef- 

teem 


1 


Of    J  U  S  T  I  C  E.  251 

teem  or  moral  approbation  may  refult  from 
refle(flions  on  public  interell  and  utility.  The 
neceflity  of  juftice  to  the  fupport  of  fociety  is  the 
Sole  foundation  of  that  virtue  j  and  fince  no  mo- 
ral excellence  is  more  highly  efteemed,  we  may 
conclude,  that  this  circumftance  of  ufefulnefs  has, 
in  general,  the  ftrongeft  energy,  and  moft  entire 
command  over  our  fentiments.  It  mufl,  therefore, 
be  the  fource  of  a  confiderable  part  of  the  merit 
afcribed  to  humanity,  benevolence,  friendfhip, 
public  fpirit,  and  other  focial  virtues  of  that  flamp; 
as  it  is  the  Sole  fource  of  the  moral  approbation 
paid  to  fidelity,  juftice,  veracity,  integrity,  and 
thofe  other  eftimable  and  ufeful  qualities  and 
principles.  It  is  entirely  agreeable  to  the  rules  of 
philofophy,  and  even  of  common  reafon ;  where 
any  principle  has  been  found  to  have  a  great  force 
and  energy  in  one  inllance,  to  afcribe  to  it  a  like 
energy  in  all  fimilar  inftances.  This  indeed  is 
Newton's  chief  rule  of  philofophizing  *. 

*  Princlpia,  lib.  iii. 


(  ^S3  ) 


S    E     C    T     I     O    N     IV. 

Of  Political  Society. 


H 


AD  every  man  {uPn.cicnt  fagacity  to  perceive, 
at  all  times,  that  ftrong  intereft,  which  binds  him 
to  the  oblervance  of  juftice  and  equity,  and 
Jirength  of  mind  fufficient  to  perfevere  in  a  fleady 
adherence  to  a  general  and  a  diflant  intereft,  in 
oppofition  to  the  allurements  of  prefent  pleafure 
and  advantage;  there  had  never,  in  that  cafe,  been 
any  fuch  thing  as  government  or  political  foci* 
ety,  but  each  man,  following  his  natural  liberty, 
had  lived  in  entire  peace  and  harmony  with  all 
others.  What  need  of  politive  law  where  natu- 
ral juftice  is,  of  icfelf,  a  fufficient  reftraint  ?  Why 
create  magiftrates,  where  there  never  arifes  any 
diforder  or  iniquity?  Why  abridge  our  native  free- 
dom, when,  in  every  inftance,  the  utmoft  exerti- 
on of  it  is  found  innocent  and  beneficial  ?  It  is 
evident,  that,  if  government  were  totally  ufelefs, 
it  never  could  have  place,  and  that  the  Sole 
foundation  of  the  duty  of  Allegiance  is  the  ad- 
vaniage,  which  it  procures  to  fociety,  by  preferv- 
ing   peace  and  order  among  mankind. 

When  a  number  of  political  focieties  are  erect- 
ed, and  maintain  a  great  intercourfe  together,  a 
new  fet  of  rules  are  immediately  difcovered  to 
be  i(/efu I  in  that  particular  fituationj  and  accord- 
ingly take  place  under  the  title  of  Laws  of 
Nations.    Of  this  kind  are,  the  facrednefs  of  the 

perfon 


254  SECTION       IV. 

peifon  of  ambalTadors,  abftaining  from  poifoned 
arms,  quarter  in  war,  with  others  of  that  kind, 
which  are  plainly  calculated  for  the  advantage  of 
ftates  and  kingdoms,  in  their  intercourfe  with  each 
other. 

The  rules  of  juftice,  fuch  as  prevail  among 
individuals,  are  not  entirely  fufpended  among  po- 
litical focieties.  All  prince^  pretend  a  regard  to 
the  rights  of  other  princes ;  and  fome  no  doubt, 
without  hopocrify.  Alliances  and  treaties  are 
every  day  made  between  independent  ftates,  which 
would  only  be  fo  much  wafte  of  parchment,  if 
they  were  not  found,  by  experience,  to  have  fome 
influence  and  authority.  But  here  is  the  diffe- 
rence between  kingdoms  and  individuals.  Hu- 
man nature  cannot,  by  any  means,  fubfift,  with- 
out the  afibciation  of  individuals;  and  that  af- 
fociation  never  could  have  place,  were  no  re- 
gard (paid  to  the  laws  of  equity  and  juftice. 
Difordcr,  confufion,  the  war  of  all  againft  all, 
are  the  neceflary  confequences  of  fuch  a  licenti-? 
ous  condudl.  But  nations  can  fubfift  Avithout 
intercourfe.  They  may  even  fubfift,  in  fome  de- 
gree, under  a  general  v.*ar.  The  obfcrvance  of 
juftice,  though  ufeful  among  them,  is  not  guard- 
ed by  fo  ftrong  a  necefllty  as  among  individu- 
als; and  the  moral  obligation  holds  proportion  witli 
the  ujefulnejs.  All  poliricians  will  allow,  and  moft 
philofophers,  that  Reafons  of  State  may,  in  par- 
ticular emergencies,  difpenfe  with  the  rules  of  juf- 
tice, and  invalidate  any  treaty  or  alliance,  where 
the  ftricl;  obfervance  of  it  would  be  prejudicial, 
in  a  confiderable  degree,  to  either  of  the  con- 
tradliing"  parties.  But  nothing  lefs  than  the  moft 
extreme  neceffity,  it  is  confefted,  can  juftify  in- 
dividuals in  a  breach  of  promife,  or  an  invafi- 
on   of  the  properties   of  others. 

In  a  confederated  commonwealth,    fuch  as  the 
Achaean   republic    of  old,    or   the  Swifs  Cantons 

and 


Of  Political  Society.  255 

and  United  Provinces  in  modern  times;  as  the 
league  has  here  a  peculiar  utiliiy^  the  conditions 
of  union  have  a  peculiar  facrcdnefs  and  autho- 
rity, and  a  violation  of  them  would  be  regarded 
as  no  Icfs,  or  even  as  more  criminal,  than  any 
private   injury  or  injuftice. 

The  long  and  helplefs  infancy  of  man  requires 
the  combination  of  parents  for  the  fubfiftence  of 
their  young;  and  that  combination  requires  the 
virtue  of  Chaftity  or  fidelity  to  the  married  bed. 
Without  fuch  a  utility,  it  will  readily  be  owned, 
that  fuch  a  virtue  would  never  have  been  thought 
of*. 

An  infidelity  of  this  nature  is  much  more 
pernicious  in  women  than  in  men.  Hence  the  laws 
of  chaftity  are  much  ftrifber  over  the  one  fex 
than  over  the  other. 

Thefe  rules  have  all  a  reference  to  generati- 
on;  and  yet  women  paft  child-bearing  are  no 
more  fuppofed  to  be  exempted  from  them  than 
thofe  in  the  flower  of  their  youth  and  beauty. 
General  rules  are  often  extended  beyond  the  prin- 
ciple, whence  they  firft  arife;  and  this  in  all 
matters  of  tafte  and  fentiment.  It  is  a  vulgar 
ftory  at  Paris,  that,  during  the  rage  of  the  Mif- 
fiflippij  a  hump-backed  fellow  went  every  day 
into  the  Rue  de  Quincempoix,  where  the  ftock- 
jobbers  met  in  great  crowds,  and  was  well  paid 
for  allowing  them  to  make  ufe  of  his  hump  as 
a  defk,  in  order  to  fign  their  contrails  upon  it. 
Would  the  fortune,  which  he  raifed  by  this  ex- 
pedient, make  him  a  handfomc  fellow;  though  ic 
be  confefTed,  that  perfonal  beauty  anfes  very  much 
from  ideas  of  utility?  The  imagination  is  in- 
fluenced by  afTociations  of  ideas;  which,  though 
they  arife  at  hrft  from  the  judgment,  are  not 
eafily  altered  by  every  particular  exception  that 
occurs    to    us.      To   which   we  may   add,  in   the 

piefent 
*  See  NOTE   [X]. 


^^6         S    E    C    T    I    O    N      IV. 

prefent  cafe  of  chaftlty,  that  the  example  of 
the  old  would  be  pernicious  to  the  young; 
and  that  women,  continually  forefeeing  that  a 
certain  time  would  bring  them  the  liberty  of 
indulgence,  would  naturally  advance  that  pe- 
riod, and  think  more  lightly  of  this  whole  du- 
ty, fo   requifite   to  fociety. 

Thofe  who  live  in  the  fame  family  have 
fuch  frequent  opportunities  of  licence  of  this 
kind,  that  nothing  could  preferve  purity  of 
manners,  were  marriage  allowed,  among  the 
neareft  relations,  or  any  intercourfe  of  love  be- 
tween them  ratified  by  law  and  cuftom.  In- 
ceft,  therefore,  being  pernicious  in  a  fuperior  de- 
gree, has  alfo  a  fuperior  turpitude  and  moral 
deformity  annexed   to  it. 

What  is  the  reafon,  why,  by  the  Athenian 
Jaws,  one  might  marry  a  half-fifter  by  the  fa- 
ther»  but  not  by  the  mother?  Plainly  this:  The 
manners  of  the  Athenians  were  fo  referved,  that 
a  man  was  never  permitted  to  approach  the 
women's  apartment,  even  in  the  fame  family, 
unlefs  where  he  vifited  his  own  mother.  His 
ftep-mother  and  her  children  were  as  much  Ihut 
up  from  him  as  the  women  of  any  other  fa- 
mily, and  there  was  as  little  danger  of  any 
criminal  correfpondence  between  them.  Uncles 
and  nieces,  for  a  like  reafon,  might  marry  at 
Athens :  but  neither  thefe,  nor  half-brothers  and 
fillers,  could  contract  that  alliance  at  Rome, 
where  the  intercourfe  was  more  open  between 
the  fexes.  Public  utility  is  the  caufe  of  all 
thefe  variations. 

To  repeat,  to  a  man's  prejudice,  any  thing 
that  efcaped  him  in  private  converfation,  or  to 
malce  any  fuch  ufe  of  his  private  letters,  is  high- 
ly blamed.  The  free  and  focial  intercourfe  of 
minds  muR  be  extremely  checked,  where  no 
fuch    rules  of  fidelity  are  ellablifhed. 

Even 


Of  Political   Society.  257 

Even  in  repeating  flories,  whence  we  can  fore- 
fee  no  ill  confequences  to  refult,  the  giving  of 
one's  author  is  regarded  as  a  piece  of  indifcretion, 
if  not  of  immorality.  Thefe  ftories,  in  pafTing 
from  hand  to  hand,  and  receiving  all  the  ufual 
variations,  frequently  come  about  to  the  perfons 
concerned,  and  produce  animofities  and  quarrels 
among  people,  whofe  intentions  are  the  moft  in- 
nocent and  inoffenfive. 

To  pry  into  fecrets,  to  open  or  even  read  the 
letters  of  others,  to  play  the  fpy  upon  tlieir  words 
and  looks  and  adlions  -,  what  habits  more  inconve- 
nient in  fociety  ?  What  habits,  of  confequence, 
rnore    blameable  ? 

This  principle  is  alfo  the  foundation  of  moft  of 
the  laws  of  good  manners  -,  a  kind  of  lefler  mora- 
lity, calculated  for  the  eafe  of  company  and  con- 
verfation.  Too  much  or  too  little  ceremony  are 
both  blamed,  and  every  thing,  which  promotes 
eafe,  without  an  indecent  familiarity,  is  ufeful  and 
laudable. 

Conftancy  in  friendfhips,  attachments,  and  fa- 
miliarities, is  commendable^  and  is  requifite  to 
fupport  truft  and  good  correfpondence  in  fociety. 
But  in  places  of  general,  though  cafual  con- 
courfe,  where  the  purfuit  of  health  and  pleafure 
brings  people  promifcuoufly  together,  public 
conveniency  has  difpenfed  with  this  maxim  -,  and 
cuftom  there  promotes  an  unreferved  converfation 
for  the  time,  by  indulging  the  privilege  of  drop- 
ping afterwards  every  indifferent  acquaintance, 
without  breach  of  civility  or  good  manners. 

Even  in  focieties,  which  are  eftablifhed  on 
principles  the  moft  immoral,  and  the  moft  def- 
tructive  to  the  interefts  of  the  general  fociety, 
there  are  required  certain  rules,  which  a  fpecies 
of  falfe  honour,  as  v/ell  as  private  intereft,  en- 
gages the  members  to  obferve.     Robbers  and  pi- 

VoL.  II,  S  rates. 


ciS^  SECTION      IV. 

rates,  it  has  often  been  remarked,  could  not  main- 
tain their  pernicious  confederacy,  did  they  not 
eftablifh  a  new  diftributive  juftice  among  them- 
felves,  and  recal  thofe  laws  of  equity,  which  they 
have  violated  with  the  reft  of  mankind. 

I  hate  a  drinking  companion,  fays  the  Greek 
proverb,  who  never  forgets.  The  follies  of  the 
laft  debauch  Ihould  be  buried  in  eternal  oblivi- 
on, in  order  to  give  full  fcope  to  the  follies  of  the 
next. 

Among  nations,  where  an  immoral  gallantry, 
if  covered  with  a  thin  veil  of  myftery,  is,  in  fome 
degree,  authorifed  by  cuftom,  there  immediately 
arife  a  fet  of  rules,  calculated  for  the  conveni- 
ency  of  that  attachment.  The  famous  court  or 
parliament  of  love  in  Provence  formerly  decided 
all  difficult  cafes  of  this  nature. 

In  focietics  for  play,  there  are  laws  required  for 
the  condud  of  the  game  j  and  thefe  laws  are  dif- 
ferent in  each  game.  The  foundation,  I  own, 
of  fuch  focieties  is  frivolous  i  and  the  laws  are  in  a 
great  meafure,  though  not  altogether,  capricious 
and  arbitrary.  So  far  is  there  a  material  differ- 
ence between  them  and  the  rules  of  juftice,  fi- 
delity, and  loyalty.  The  general  focieties  of  men 
are  abfolutely  requifite  for  the  fubfiftence  of  the 
fpecies;  and  the  public  conveniehcy,  which  regu- 
lates morals,  is  inviolably  eftabliftied  in  the  nature 
of  man,  and  of  the  world,  in  which  he  lives. 
The  comparifon,  therefore,  in' thefe  refpedls,  is 
very  imperfetl.  "We  may  only  learn  from  it  the 
necefllty  of  rules,  wherever  men  have  any  inter- 
courfe  with  each  other. 

They  cannot  even  pafs  each  otiier  on  the  road 
without  rules.  Waggoners,  coachmen,  and  pofti- 
lions  have  principles,  by  which  they  give  the  way-; 
and  thefe  are  chiefly  founded  on  mutual  cale  and 
convenience.     Sometimes  alfo  they  are  arbitrary, 

at 


Of  Political  Society.  259 

at  leaft  dependant  on  a  kind  of  capricious  analogy, 
like  many  of  the  reafonings  of  lawyers  *. 

To  carry  the  matter  farther,  we  may  obferve, 
that  it  is  impofTible  for  men  fo  much  as  to  murder 
each  other  without  ftatutes,  and  maxims,  and  an 
ideaof  juftice  and  honour.  War  has  its  laws  as 
well  as  peace  -,  even  that  fportive  kind  of  war,  car- 
ried on  among  wreftlers,  boxers,  cudgel-players, 
gladiators,  is  regulated  by  fixed  principles.  Com- 
mon intereft  and  utility  beget  infallibly  a  flandard 
of  right  and  wrong  among   the  parties   concern- 

•  See  NOTE  [Y], 


S  2  SECT- 


(     26i     ) 


SECTION        V. 

Why   Utility"    pleases. 

PART       L 

XT  feems  fo  natural  a  thought  to  afcribe  to  their 
utility  the  praife,  which  we  beftow  on  the  focial 
virtues,  that  one  would  expefb  to  meet  with  this 
principle  every  where  in  moral  writers,  as  the 
chief  foundation  of  their  reafoning  and  enquiry. 
In  common  life,  we  may  obferve,  that  the  cir- 
cumftance  of  utility  is  always  appealed  to  ;  nor 
is  it  fuppofed,  that  a  greater  eulogy  can  be  gi- 
ven to  any  man,  than  to  difplay  his  ufefulnefs 
to  the  public,  and  enumerate  the  fervices,  which 
he  has  performed  to  mankind  and  fociety.  What 
praife,  even  of  an  inanimate  form,  if  the  regularity 
and  elegance  of  its  parts  deftroy  not  its  ficnefs 
for  any  ufeful  purpofe !  And  how  fatisfadtory  an 
apology  for  any  difproportion  or  feeming  deformi- 
ty, if  we  can  fhow  the  necefllty  of  that  particu- 
lar conftrudion  for  the  ufe  intended !  A  Ihip  ap- 
pears more  beautiful  to  an  artiil,  or  one  mode- 
rately fkillcd  in  navigation,  where  its  prow  is  wide 
and  fwelling  beyond  its  poop,  than  if  it  were 
framed  with  a  precife  geometrical  regularity,  in 
contradidion  to  all  the  laws  of  mechanics.  A 
building,  whofe  doors  and  windows  were  exact 
fquares,  would  hurt  the  eye  by  that  very  propor- 
tion ;    as   ill   adapted  to    the  figure  of   a   human 

creature. 


262  S   E   C    T    I    O    N      V. 

creature,  for  whofe  fervice  the  fabric  was  in- 
intended.  What  wonder  then,  that  a  man,  whofc 
fiabits  and  condudl  are  hortfui  to  fociety,  and 
dangerous  or  pernicious  to  every  one  who  has  an 
intercourfe  with  him,  fhould,  on  that  account,  be 
an  objedt  of  difapproba-tion,  and  communicate  to 
every  Ipeftator  the  ftrongeft  fentiment  of  difguft 
and   hatred  *. 

But  perhaps  the  difBculty  of  accounting  for 
thefe  effedbs  of  ufefulnefs,  or  its  contrary,  has  kept 
philofophers  from  admitting  them  into  their  fyf- 
tems  of  ethics,  and  has  induced  them  rather  ta 
employ  any  other  principle,  in  explaining  the 
origin  of  moral  good  and  evil.  But  it  is  no  juft 
reafon  for  rejed:irrg  any  principl-e,  confirmed  by 
experience,  that  we  cannot  give  a  fatisfaftory  ac- 
count of  its  origin,  nor  are  able  to  rcfolve  it  in- 
to other  more  general  principles.  And  if  we 
would  employ  a  little  thought  on  the  prefent 
fubjedt,  we  need  be  at  no  lofs  to  account  foi* 
the  influence  of  utility,  and  to  deduce  it  from 
principles,  the  moft  known  and  avowed  in  hu- 
man nature. 

From  the  apparent  ufefulnefs  of  the  focial  vir-- 
tues',  it  has  readily  been  inferred  by  fceptics,  both' 
ancient  and  modern,  that  all  moral  diftinftions 
arife  from  edacation,  and  were,  at  firft,  invented, 
and  afterward  encouraged,  by  the  in  of  politici- 
ans, in  order  to  render  men  tractable,  and  fub- 
due  their  natural  ferocity  and  felfiilintrs,  which 
incapacitated  them  for  fociety.  This  principle^ 
indeed,  of  precept  and  education,  nuift  lb  far  be 
owned  to  have  a  powerful  influence,  that  it  may 
frequently  encreafe  or  diminilh,  beyond  their  na- 
tural ilandard,  the  fentiments  of  approbation  or 
diflikej  and  may  even,  in  particular  inltancesy 
create,  without  any  natural  principle,  a  new  fenti- 
nientof  this  kind;   as  is  evident  in  all  fuperftitious 

practices 
*  See  NOTE  [Z]. 


Why   XJ-tiLiTY    PLEASES.  263 

practices  and  obfervances :  But  that  all  mora! 
affection  or  diflike  arifes  from  this  origin,  will 
never  furely  be  allowed  by  any  judicious  en- 
quirer. Had  nature  made  no  fuch  dillin6lion, 
founded  on  the  original  conftitution  of  the  mind, 
the  words,  honourable^  and  Jhameful,  lovely,  and 
odious y  noble y  and  de/picabky  had  never  had  place 
in  any  language  j  nor  could  politicians,  had  they 
invented  thefe  terms,  ever  have  been  able  to 
render  them  intelligible,  or  make  them  convey 
any  idea  to  the  audience.  So  that  nothing  can 
be  more  fuperficial  than  this  paradox  of  the  fcep- 
tics;  and  it  were  well,  if,  in  the  abftrufer  ftudies 
of  logic  and  metaphyfics,  we  could  as  eafily  ob- 
viate the  cavils  of  that  feft,  as  in  the  praftical  and 
more  intelligible  fciences  of  politics  and  morals. 

The  focial  virtues  muft,  therefore,  be  allowed 
to  have  a  natural  beauty  and  amiablenefs,  which, 
at  firil,  antecedent  to  all  precept  or  education, 
recommends  them  to  the  eiteem  of  uninftru6ted 
mankind,  and  engages  their  affeflions.  And  as 
the  public  utility  of  thefe  virtues  is  the  chief 
circumftance,  whence  they  derive  their  merit,  it 
follows,  that  the  end,  which  they  have  a  tendency 
to  promote,  mufb  be  fome  way  agreeable  to  us, 
and  take  hold  of  fome  natural  affed:ion.  It  muft 
pleafe,  either  from  confiderations  of  felf-intereft, 
or   from   more  generous  motives  and  regards. 

It  has  often  been  aflerted,  that,  as  every  man 
has  a  ftrong  connexion  with  fociety,  and  perceives 
rhe  impoffibility  of  his  folitary  fubfiilence,  he 
becomes,  on  that  account,  favourable  to  all  thofe 
habits  or  principles,  which  promote  order  in  fo- 
ciety, and  infure  to  him  the  quiet  poflefTion  of 
fo  ineftimable  a  blelTing.  As  much  as  we  value 
our  own  happincfs  and  welfare,  as  much  muft  we 
applaud  the  pradice  of  juftice  and  humanity, 
by   which  alone    the    fgci^l    confederacy   can   be 

main- 


264  S    E    C    T    I    O    N      V. 

maintained,    and    every  man    reap    the    fruits  of 
mutual   protedion  and  afliftance. 

This  deduction  of  morals  from  felf-love,  or  a 
regard  to  private  interefl,  is  an  obvious  thought, 
and  has  not  arifen  wholly  from  the  wanton  fallies 
and  fportive  alTaults  of  the  fcepiics.  To  menti-' 
on  no  others,  Polybius,  one  of  the  graved  and 
moft  judicious,  as  well  as  mod  moral  writers  of 
antiquity,  has  afligned  this  felfiih  origin  to  all 
our  fentiments  of  virtue  *.  But  though  the  folid, 
praftical  fenfe  of  that  author,  and  his  averfion  to 
all  vain  fubtilties,  render  his  authority  on  the 
prefent  fubjedl  very  confiderable ;  yet  is  not  this 
an  affair  to  be  decided  by  authority,  and  the 
voice  of  nature  and  experience  feems  plainly  to 
oppofe  the  felfiih  theory. 

We  frequently  beftow  praife  on  virtuous  ani- 
ons, performed  in  very  diftant  ages  and  remote 
countries;  where  the  utmoft  fubtilty  of  imagina- 
tion would  not  difcover  any  appearance  of  felf- 
intereft,  or  find  any  connexion  of  our  prefent 
happinefs  and  fecurity  with  events  fo  widely  fe- 
parated  from  us. 

A  generous,  a  brave,  a  noble  deed,  perform- 
ed by  an  adverfary,  commands  our  approbati- 
tion;  while  in  its  confequences  it  may  be  ac- 
knowledged prejudicial  to  our  particular  in- 
tereit. 

When  private  advantage  concurs  with  general 
afFeftion  for  virtue,  we  readily  perceive  and  avow 
the  mixture  of  thefe  diilind  fentiments,  which 
have  a  very  different  feeling  and  influence  on 
the  mind.  We  praife,  perhaps,  with  more  ala-  ^ 
crity,  where  the  generous,  humane  action  con- 
tributes to  our  particular  intercft :  But  the  topics 
of  praife,  which  we  infill  on,  are  very  wide  of 
this  circumftance.     And  we  may  attempt  to  bring 

over 

•  Sec   NOTE    [AA], 


Why   Utility    pleases.  265 

over  others  to  our  fentiments,  without  endea- 
vouring to  convince  them,  that  they  reap  any 
advantage  from  the  aflions  which  we  recommend 
to  their  approbation  and  applaufe. 

Frame  the  model  of  a  praife-worthy  chara6ler, 
confiding  of  all  the  mofl  amiable  moral  virtues  : 
Give  inltances,  in  which  thefe  difplay  themfelves 
after  an  eminent  and  extraordinary  manner:  You 
readily  engage  the  efteem  and  approbation  of  all 
your  audience,  who  never  fo  much  as  enquire  in 
what  age  and  country  the  perfon  lived,  who  pof- 
fefled  thefe  noble  qualities:  A  circumftance,  how- 
ever, of  all  others,  the  moft  material  to  felf-love, 
or  a  concern  for  our  own  individual  happinefs. 

Once  on  a  time,  a  ftatefman,  in  the  fhock  and 
conteft  of  parties,  prevailed  fo  far  as  to  procure, 
by  his  eloquence,  the  baniihment  of  an  able  ad- 
verfary  j  whom  he  fecretly  followed,  offering  him 
money  for  fupport  during  his  exile,  and  foothing 
him  with  topics  of  confolation  in  his  misfortunes. 
Alas !  cries  the  banilhed  ftatefman,  with  what  re- 
gret mujl  I  leave  my  friends  in  this  city^  where  even 
enemies  are  fo  generous!  Virtue,  though  in  an  ene- 
my, here  pleafed  him:  And  we  alfo  give  it  the  juft 
tribute  of  praife  and  approbation  j  nor  do  we  re- 
traft  thefe  fentiments,  when  we  hear,  that  the  ac- 
tion pafTed  at  Athens,  about  two  thoufand  years 
ago,  and  that  the  perfons  names  were  Efchines 
and  Demofthenes. 

JVhat  is  that  to  me?  There  are  few  occafions, 
when  this  quellion  is  not  pertinent :  And  had  it 
that  univerfal,  infallible  influence  fuppofed,  it 
would  turn  into  ridicule  every  compofition,  and 
almoft  every  converfation,  which  contain  any 
praife  or  cenfure  of  men  and  manners. 

It  is  but  a  weak  fubterfuge,  when  prefled  by 
thefe  fads  and  arguments,  to  fay,  that  we  tranf- 
port  ourfelves,  by  the  force  of  imagination,  in- 
to diftant  ages   and  countries,    and   confider   the 

advantage. 


a66  S    E    C    T    I    O    N     V. 

advantage,  which  we  fhould  have  reaped  from 
thefe  charaflers,  had  we  been  contennporaries, 
and  had  any  commerce  with  the  perfons.  It  is 
not  conceivable,  how  a  real  fentiment  or  pafTi- 
on  can  ever  arife  from  a  known  imaginary  in- 
tereft;  efpecially  when  our  real  intereft  is  ftill 
kept  in  view,  and  is  often  acknowledged  to  be 
entirely  diftinft  from  the  imaginary,  and  even 
fometimes  oppofite  to  it. 

A  man,  brought  to  the  brink  of  a  precipice, 
cannot   look    down    without  trembling;    and  the 
fentiment   of   imaginary   danger   aftuates   him,  in 
oppofition    to    the    opinion    and    belief  of   real 
fafety.     But   the   imagination   is   here   aflifled  by 
the  prefence   of  a  ftriking   objeft;    and  yet   pre- 
vails   not,     except   it  be  alfo   aided   by  novelty, 
and  the  unufual   appearance  of  the  objeft.     Cuf- 
tom   foon   reconciles   us  to   heights   and   precipi- 
ces,   and    wears  off  thefe   falfe  and  delufive  ter- 
rors.    The  reverfe  is  obfervable  in  the  eftimates, 
which   we  form  of  chara6ters   and   manners  j  and 
the  more  we   habituate   ourfelves   to  an  accurate 
fcrutiny  of  morals,    the  more  delicate  feeling  do 
we  acquire  of  the   mofl  minute    diftindtions  be- 
tween vice  and  virtue.      Such  frequent  occafion, 
indeed,  have  we,  in   common   life,  to   pronounce 
all  kinds  of  moral  determinations,  that  no  objedl 
of  this   kind   can    be  new  or   unufual  to  us ;  nor 
could  any  falfe   views  or    prepofleflions  maintain 
their  ground  againft   an  experience,    fo   common 
and    familiar.       Experience    being    chiefly    what 
forms    the    aflbciations  of  ideas,    it  is    impoflible 
that   any   aflbciation   could   eitablilli    and  liipport 
itfelf,  in  diredt  oppofition  to  that  principle. 

Ufefulnefs  is  agreeable,  and  engages  our  appro- 
bation. This  is  a  matter  of  fa<5t,  confirmed  by 
daily  obfervation.  But  ufeful  ?  For  what  ?  For  fome 
body's  intereft,  furely.  Whofe  intereft  then  ?  Not 
«ur  own  only  :  For  our  approbation  frequently  ex- 
tends 


WhyUtility    pleases.  267 

tends  farther.  It  muft,  therefore,  be  the  intereft 
of  thofe,  wfio  are  ferved  by  the  charader  or  adti- 
on  approved  of;  and  thefe  we  may  conclude, 
Jiouever  remote,  are  not  totally  indifferent  to  us. 
By  opening  up  this  principle,  we  fhall  difcover  one 
great  fource  of  moral   diftindlions. 

PART       II. 

Self-love  is  a  principle  in  human  nature  of  fuch 
extenfive  energy,  and  the  intereft  of  each  indivi- 
dual is,  in  general,  fo  clofely  conneded  with  that 
of  the  community,  that  thofe  philofophers  were 
excufable,  who  fancied,  that  all  our  concern  for 
the  public  might  be  refolved  into  a  concern  for 
our  own  happinefs  and  prefervation.  They  faw 
every  moment,  inftances  of  approbation  or  blame, 
fatisfadlion  or  difpleafure  towards  charaders  and 
aftions;  they  denominated  the  objedts  of  thefe  fen- 
timents,  virtues  or  vices;  they  obferved,  that  the 
former  had  a  tendency  to  encreafe  the  happinefs, 
and  the  latter  the  mifery  of  mankind;  they  afked, 
whether  it  were  polhble  that  we  could  have  any 
general  concern  for  fociety,  or  any  difinterefted 
refentment  of  the  welfare  or  injury  of  others;  they 
found  it  fimpler  to  confider  all  thefe  fentiments  as 
modifications  of  felf-love ;  and  they  difcovered  a 
pretence,  at  leaft,  for  this  unity  of  principle,  in 
that  clofe  union  of  intereft,  which  is  fo  obfervable 
between   the  public  and  each  individual. 

But  notwithftanding  this  frequent  confufion  of 
interefts,  it  is  eafy  to  attain  what  natural  philofo- 
phers, after  lord  Bacon,  have  alTe<5led  to  call  the 
expsrimc'ntum  crucisy  or  that  experiment,  which 
points  out  the  right  way  in  any  doubt  or  ambiguity. 
We  have  found  inftances,  in  which  private  intereft 
was  feparate  from  public  j  in  which  it  was  even 
coniriry  :  And  yet  v^e  obferved  the  moral  fcntiaient 
to   continue,    notwithftanding   this    disiundlion  of 

\^  interefts. 


268  S    E   ,C    T    I    O    N      V. 

intcrefts.  And  wherever  thefe  diflind:  interefts  fen- 
fibly  concurred,  we  always  found  a  fenfible  en- 
creafe  of  the  fentimenr,  and  a  more  warm  affefli- 
on  to  virtue,  and  deteflation  of  vice,  or  what  we 
properly  caWy  gratitude  and  revenge.  Compelled 
by  thefe  in  fiances,  we  muft  renounce  the  theory, 
which  accounts  for  every  moral  fentiment  by  the 
principle  of  felf-love.  We  muft  adopt  a  more 
public  affeiflion,  and  allow,  that  the  interefts  of  fo- 
ciety  are  not,  even  on  their  own  account,  entire- 
ly indifferent  to  us.  Ufefulnefs  is  only  a  tendency 
to  a  certain  end;  and  it  is  a  contradiftion  in  terms, 
that  any  thing  pleafes  as  means  to  an  end,  where 
the  end  itfelf  no  wife  affefts  us.  If  ufefulnefs, 
therefore,  be  a  fource  of  moral  fentiment,  and  if 
this  ufefulnefs  be  not  always  confidered  with  a  re- 
ference to  felf ;  it  follows,  that  every  thing,  which 
contributes  to  the  happinefs  of  fociety,  recommends 
itfelf  diredlly  to  our  approbation  and  good-will. 
Here  is  a  principle,  which  accounts,  in  great  part, 
for  the  origin  of  morality  :  And  what  need  we  feek 
for  abftrufe  and  remote  fyftems,  when  there  occurs 
one  fo  obvious  and  natural  *  ? 

Have  we  any  difficulty  to  comprehend  the  force 
of  humanity  and  benevolence  ?  Or  to  conceive, 
that  the  very  afpeft  of  happinefs,  joy,  profperity, 
gives  pleafure;  that  of  pain,  buffering,  forrow,  com- 
municates uneafinefs  ?  The  human  countenance, 
fays  Horace  f ,  borrows  fmiles  or  tears  from  the  hu- 
man countenance.  Reduce  a  perfon  to  folitude, 
and  he  lofes  all  enjoyment,  except  either  of  the 
fenfual  or  fpeculative  kind  ,  and  that  becaufe  the 
movements  of  his  heart  are  not  forwarded  by  cor- 
refpondent  movements  in  his  fellow-creatures.    The 

fisns 


•  See  NOTE  [B  B]. 

f  Utl  ridentibus  arrident,  ita  flentibus  adflcnt 
Humani  vultus.  Hor.. 


i 


Why   Utility    pleases.  269 

figns  of  forrow  and  mourning,  though  arbitrary, 
affed  us  with  melancholy  j  but  the  natural  fymp- 
toms,  tears  and  cries  and  groans,  never  fail  to  in- 
fufe  companion  and  uneafinefs.  And  if  the  effefts 
of  mifery  touch  us  in  fo  lively  a  manner ;  can 
we  be  fuppofed  altogether  infenfible  or  indif- 
ferent towards  its  caufesj  when  a  malicious  or 
treacherous  character  and  behaviour  are  prefented 
to  us  ? 

We  enter,  I  fhall  fuppofe,  into  a  convenient, 
warm,  well- contrived  apartment:  We  neceflarily 
receive  a  pleafure  from  its  very  furvey ;  becaufe 
it  prefents  us  with  the  pleafing  ideas  of  eafe,  fa- 
tisfa6bion,  and  enjoyment.  The  hofpitable,  good- 
humoured,  humane  landlord  appeal's.  This  cir- 
cumftance  furely  mull  embellifli  the  whole;  nor 
can  we  eafily  forbear  reflecting,  with  pleafure, 
on  the  fatisfadion  which  refults  to  every  one  from 
his  intercourfe  and  good-offices. 

His  whole  family,  by  the  freedom,  eafe,  con- 
fidence, and  calm  enjoyment,  diffufed  over  their 
countenances,  fufficiently  exprefs  their  happinefs, 
I  have  a  pleafing  fympathy  in  the  profpefl  of  fo 
much  joy,  and  can  never  confider  the  fouice  of 
it,  without  the   moft   agreeable  emotions. 

He  tells  me,  that  an  opprelTive  and  powerful 
neighbour  had  attempted  to  difpofiefs  him  of  his 
inheritance,  and  had  long  diflurbed  all  his  inno- 
cent and  focial  pleafures.  I  feel  an  immediate 
indignation  arife  in  me  againft:  fuch  violence  and 
injury. 

But  it  is  no  wonder,  he  adds,  that  a  private 
wrong  Ihould  proceed  from  a  man,  who  had 
enflaved  provinces,  depopulated  cities,  and  made 
the  tield  and  fcaffold  ftream  with  human  blood. 
I  am  ftruck  with  horror  at  the  profped  of  fo 
much  mifery,  and  am  aftuated  by  the  ftrongefl 
antipathy  againfl  its  author. 

In 


270         SECTION      V. 

In  general.  It  is  certain,  that,  wherever  we  go, 
whatever  wq  refleft  on  or  converfe  about,  every- 
thing ft'ill  prefents  us  with  the  view  of  human 
happinefs  or  mifery,  and  excites  in  our  breaft 
a  fympathetic  movement  of  pleafure  or  uneafi- 
iiefs.  In  our  ferious  occupations,  in  our  care- 
lefs  amufements,  this  principle  ftill  exerts  its  ac- 
tive energy. 

A  man,  who  enters  the  theatre,  is  immediately 
flruck  with  the  view  of  fo  great  a  multitude, 
participating  of  one  common  amufement ;  and 
experiences,  from  their  very  afpedl,  a  fuperior 
fenfibility  or  difpofition  of  being  affefled  with 
every  fentiment,  which  he  lliares  with  his  fellow- 
creatures. 

He  obferves  the  aflors  to  be  animated  by  the 
appearance  of  a  full  audience,  and  raifed  to  a  de- 
gree of  enthufiafm,  which  they  cannot  command 
in  any  folitary  or  calm  moment. 

Every  movement  of  the  theatre,  by  a  Ikilful 
poet,  is  communicated,  as  it  were  by  magic,  to 
the  fpe6tators ;  who  weep,  tremble,  refent,  rejoice, 
and  are  enflamed  with  all  the  variety  of  paffi- 
ons,  which  actuate  the  feveral  perfonages  of  the 
drama. 

Where  any  event  crofles  our  willies,  and  in- 
terrupts the  happinefs  of  the  favourite  characters, 
we  feel  a  fenfible  anxiety  and  concern.  But  where 
their  fufferings  proceed  from  the  treachery,  cru- 
elty, or  tyranny  of  an  enemy,  our  breads  are  af- 
fedled  with  the  Kvelieft  refentment  againit  the  au- 
thor of  thefe  calamities. 

It  is  here  efteemed  contrary  to  the  rules  of  art 
to  reprefent  any  thing  cool  and  indifferent.  A 
diftant  friend,  or  a  confident,  who  has  no  imme- 
diate intereft  in  the  cataftrophe,  ought,  if  poffible, 
to  be  avoided  by  the  poet ;  as  communicating 
a  like  indifference  to  the  audience,  and  checking 
the   progrefs  of  the  paffions. 

Few 


/ 


Why   Utility    pleases.  271 

Few  fpecics  of  poetry  are  more  entertaining  than 
pajloral ;  and  every  one  is  fenfible,  that  the  chief 
fource  of  its  pleafure  arifes  from  thofe  images  of 
a  gentle  and  tender  tranquillity,  which  it  reprefcnts 
in  its  perfonages,  and  of  which  it  communicates  a 
like  fentiment  to  the  reader.  Sannazarius,  who 
transferred  the  fcene  to  the  fea-fhore,  though  he 
prefented  the  mod  magnificent  obie<5t  in  nature,  is 
confefled  to  have  erred  in  his  choice.  The  idea  of 
toil,  labour,  and  danger,  fuffered  by  the  fifher- 
men,  is  painful  ;  by  an  unavoidable  fympathy, 
which  attends  every  conception  of  human  hap- 
pinefs  or  mifery. 

When  I  was  twenty,  fays  a  French  poet,  Ovid 
was  my  favourite  :  Now  I  am  forty,  I  declare  for 
Horace.  We  enter,  to  be  fure,  more  readily  into 
fentiments,  which  refemble  thofe  we  feel  every 
day  :  But  no  paflion  when  well  reprefented,  can  be 
entirely  indifferent  to  us ;  becaufe  there  is  none, 
of  which  every  man  has  not,  within  him,  at  lead 
the  feeds  and  firft  principles.  It  is  the  bufinefs 
of  poetry  to  bring  every  affeftion  near  to  us  by 
truth  and  reality:  A  certain  proof,  that,  wherever 
that  reality  is  found,  our  minds  are  difpofed  to  be 
ftrongly  affefted  by  it. 

Any  recent  event  or  piece  of  news,  by  which 
the  fate  of  dates,  provinces,  or  many  individuals 
is  affefted,  is  extremely  interefting  even  to  thofe 
"whofe  welfare  is  not  immediately  engaged.  Such 
intelligence  is  propagated  with  celerity,  heard 
with  avidity,  and  enquired  into  with  attention  and 
concern.  The  intereft  of  fociety  appears,  on  this 
occafion,  to  be,  in  fome  degree,  the  intereft  of 
each  individual.  The  imagination  is  fure  to  be  af- 
fedled  ;  though  the  paflions  excited  may  not  always 
be  fo  ftrong  and  fteady  as  to  have  great  influence 
on  the  conduct  and  behaviour. 

The 


272         SECTION      V. 

The  perufal  of  a  hiftory  feems  a  calm  enter- 
tainment i  but  would  be  no  entertainment  at  all, 
did  not  our  hearts  beat  with  correfpondent  move- 
ments to  thofe  which  are  defcribed  by  the  hifto- 
rian. 

Thucydides  and  Guicciardin  fupport  with  diffi- 
culty our  attention ;  while  the  former  defcribes 
the  trivial  rencounters  of  the  fmall  cities  of  Greece, 
and  the  latter  the  harmlefs  wars  of  Pifa.  The 
few  perfons  interefted,  and  the  fmall  interefl:  fill 
not  the  imagination,  and  engage  not  the  affedli- 
ons.  The  deep  diftrefs  of  the  numerous  Athe- 
nian army  before  Syracufe ;  the  danger,  which  ib 
nearly  threatens  Venice;  thefe  excite  compalTion ; 
thefe  move  terror  and  anxiety. 

The  indifferent,  uninterefting  .ftile  of  Suetonius, 
equally  with  the  mafterly  pencil  of  Tacitus,  may 
convince  us  of  the  cruel  depravity  of  Nero  or 
Tiberius  :  But  what  a  differepce  of  fentiment  ! 
"While  the  former  coldly  relates  the  fafls  ;  and 
the  latter  fets  before  our  eyes  the  venerable 
figures  of  a  Soranus  and  a  Thrafea,  intrepid  in 
their  fate,  and  only  moved  by  the  melting  for- 
rows  of  their  friends  and  kindred.  What  fym- 
pathy  then  touches  every  human  heart  !  What 
indignation  againft  the  tyrant,  whofe  caufelefs 
fear  or  unprovoked  malice  gave  rife  to  fuch  de- 
teltable  barbarity  ! 

If  we  bring  thefe  fubjedls  nearer  :  If  we  remove 
all  fufpicion  of  fiftion  and  deceit:  What  power- 
ful concern  is  excited,  and  how  much  fuperior,  in 
many  inftances,  to  the  narrow  attachments  of  felf- 
love  and  private  interefl !  Popular  fedition,  party 
zea^,  a  devoted  obedience  to  fa6lious  leaders;  thefe 
are  ibme  of  rhe  mod  vifible,  though  lefs  laudable 
efi^ec^s  of  thisiocial  fympathyin  human  nature. 

The  ^^rivoloiifnefs  of  the  fubjeft  too,  we  may  ob- 
ferve,  is  not'''uieto  deta'-h  us  entirely  froin  what  car- 


ries an  imageof  human  fentiment  and  afi-'ctlion. 


When 


Why  Utility  pleases.  273 

When  a  perfon  flutters,  and  pronounces  with 
difficulty,  we  even  fympathize  with  this  trivial  un- 
eafinefs,  and  fuffer  for  him.  And  it  is  a  rule  in 
criticilm,  that  every  combination  of  iyliables  or 
letters,  which  gives  pain  to  the  organs  of  fpcech 
in  the  recital,  appears  alfo,  from  a  fpecies  of  fym- 
pathy,  harfh  and  difagreeable  to  the  ear.  Nay, 
when  we  run  over  a  book  with  our  eye,  we  are 
fenfible  of  fuch  unharmonious  compofition;  be- 
caufe  we  ftill  imagine,  that  a  perfon  recites  it  to  us, 
and  fuiters  from  the  pronunciation  of  thefe  jar- 
ring founds.     So  delicate  is  our  fympathy  ! 

Eafy  and  unconftrained  poftures  and  motions 
are  always  beautiful  :  An  air  of  health  and  vigour 
is  agreeable:  Cloaths  which  warm,  without  bur- 
thening  the  body  3  which  cover,  without  impri- 
foning  the  limbs,  are  well-fafhioned.  In  every 
judgment  of  beauty,  the  feelings  of  the  perfon  af- 
fefted  enter  into  confideration,  and  communicate 
to  the  fpedlator  fimilar  touches  of  pain  or  plea-^ 
lure  *.  What  wonder,  then,  if  we  can  pronounce 
no  judgment  concerning  the  character  and  conduft 
of  men,  without  confidering  the  tendencies  of 
their  adiions,  and  the  happinefs  or  mifery  Vv^hich 
thence  arifes  to  fociety  ?  What  aflbciation  of  ideas 
would  ever  operate,  were  that  principle  here  total- 
ly unaclive  f. 

If  any  man  from   a  cold  infenfibility,  or  narrow 
felfiflinefs  of  temper,  is  unaffected  with  the  images 
of  human  happinefs  or  mifery,  he   muft  be  equal- 
ly indifferent  to   the  images  of  vice  and  virtue : 
'  Vol.  II.  T  As, 

•  *'  Decentior  equus  cujus  aftricla  funt  ilia;  fed  idem  ve- 
**  locior.  Pulcher  afpcflu  fit  athlcta,  cujus  lacertos  exercita- 
"  tio  exprelfit ;  idem  certamini  paratior.  Nunquam  enim 
"  fpecies  ab  utilitaie  dividitur.  Sed  hoc  quidem  difcernere  mo- 
*'  dici  judicii  elt."     Quintilian    tail.    lib.  viii.    cap.   3. 

+  See  NOTE   [CC]. 


274  SECTION       V. 

As,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  always  found,  that  a 
warm  concern  for  the  interefls  of  our  fpecies  is 
attended  with  a  delicate  feeling  of  all  moral  dif- 
tinctions  ;  a  ftrong  refentment  of  injury  done  to 
men  ;  a  lively  approbation  of  their  welfare.  In 
this  particular,  though  great  fuperiority  is  obfer- 
vable  of  one  man  above  another  ;  yet  none  are  fo 
entirely  indifferent  to  the  interefl  of  their  fellow- 
creatures,  as  to  perceive  no  diflinftions  of  moral 
good  and  evil,  in  confequence  of  the  different  ten- 
dencies of  actions  and  principles.  How,  indeed, 
can  we  fuppofe  it  poffible  in  any  one,  who  wears  a 
human  heart,  that  if  there  be  fubjefted  to  his  cen- 
fure,  one  charafler  or  fyftem  of  conduft,  which  is 
beneficial,  and  another,  which  is  pernicious,  to  his 
fpecies  or  community,  he  will  not  fo  much  as  give 
a  cool  preference  to  the  former,  or  afcribe  to  it  the 
fmalleft  merit  or  regard  ?  Let  .us  fuppofe  fuch  a 
perfon  ever  fo  felfifh  ;  let  private  intereft  have  in- 
grolled  ever  fo  much  his  attention  ;  yet  in  inftan- 
ces,  where  that  is  not  concerned,  he  mufb  una- 
voidably feel  /ome  propenfity  to  the  good  of  man- 
kind, and  make  it  an  objeft  of  choice,  if  every 
thing  elfe  be  equal.  Would  any  man,  who  is 
v/alking  along,  tread  as  willingly  on  another's  gou- 
ty toes,  whom  he  has  no  quarrel  with,  as  on  the 
hard  flint  and  pavement  ?  There  is  here  furely  a 
difference  in  the  cafe.  We  furely  take  into  con- 
fideration  the  happinefs  and  mifery  of  others,  in 
weighing  the  fcveral  motives  of  aclion,  and  incline 
to  the  former,  where  no  private  regards  draw  us 
to  feek  our  own  promotion  or  advantage  by  the 
injury  of  our  fellow-creatures.  And  if  the  prin- 
ciples of  humanity  are  capable,  in  many  inftances, 
of  influencing  our  aftions,  they  muft,  at  all  times, 
have /c;;z^  authority  over  our  fcntiments,  and  give 
us  a  general  approbation  of  what  is  ufeful  to  focie- 
ty,  and  blame  of  what  is  dangerous  or  pernicious. 
The  degrees  of  thefc  fcntiments  may  be  the  fubjedl 

of 


Why  Utility  pleases.  I75 

of  controverfy  ;  but  the  reality  of  their  exiftencej 
one  fliould  think,  mull  be  admitted,  in  every  theo- 
ry or  fyitem. 

A  creature,  abfolutely  malicious  and  fpiteful, 
were  there  any  fuch  in  nature,  mult  be  worie  than 
indifferent  to  the  images  of  vice  and  virtue.     All 

"  his  fentiments  mud  be  inverted,  and  dircftly  op- 
pofite  to  thofc,  which  prevail  in  the  human  fpecies. 
Whatever  contributes  to  the  good  of  mankind,  as 
it  crolTes  the  conftant  bent  of  his  wifhes  and  de- 
fires,  muft  produce  uneafinefs  and  difapprobation ; 
aad  on  the  contrary,  whatever  is  the  fource  of  dif- 
order  and  mifery  in  fociety,  muft,  for  the  fame 
reafon,  be  regarded  with  pleafure  and  complacen- 
cy. Timon,  who,  probably  from  his  affedled 
fpleen,  more  than  any  inveterate  malice,  was  deno- 
minated the  man-hater,  embraced  Alcibiades;  with 
great  fondnefs.  Go  on^  my  boy  I  cried  he,  acquire 
the  confidence  of  the  people  :    7'cu  will  one  day,  I  fore- 

fee  J  be  the  caufe  of  great  calamities  to  them*  :  Could 
we  admit  the  two  principles  of  the  Manicheans,  it 
is  an  infallible  confequence,  that  their  fentiments 
of  human  aftions,  as  well  as  of  every  thing  elfe, 
muft  be  totally  oppofite,  and  that  every  inflance  of 

juftice  and  humanity,  from  its  neceffary  tendency, 
muft  pleafe  the  one  deity  and  difpleafe  the  other. 
All  mankind  fo  far  refemble  the  good  principle, 
that,  where  intereft  or  revenge  or  envy  perverts 
not  our  difpofition,  we  are  always  inclined,  from 
our  natural  philanthropy,  to  give  the  preference  to 
the  happinels  of  fociety,  and  confequently  to  vir- 
tue, above  its  oppofite.  Abfolute,  unprovoked, 
difintereftcd  malice  has  never,  perhaps,  place  in 
any  human  breaft;  or  if  it  had,  muft  there  per- 
vert all  the  fentiments  of  morals,  as  well  as  the 
feelings  of  humanity.  If  the  cruelty  of  Nero  be 
allowed  entirely  voluntary,   and  not  rather  the  ef- 

T  2  fed 

*  PtutARCH  in  vita  ALct 


276  S    E    C    T    I     O    N      V. 

feft  of  conftant  fear  and  refentment ;  it  is  evident, 
that  Tigellinus,  preferably  to  Seneca  or  Burrhus, 
muft  have  pofTelTed  his  fleady  and  uniform  appro- 
bation. 

A   ftatefman   or   patriot,    who   ferves   our  own 
country,  in  our  own  time,  has  always  a  more  paf- 
fionate  regard  paid  to  him,   than  one  whole  benefi- 
cial  influence  operated  on  diftant  ages  or  remote 
nations  ;  where  the  good,   refulting  from  his  ge- 
nerous humanity,   being  lefs   connedted  with   us, 
feems  more    obfcure,  and    aflfedls    us  with  a   lefs 
lively  fympathy.     We  may  own  the  merit  to  be 
equally  great,  though  our  fentiments  are  not  raif- 
ed  to  an  equal  height,  in  both  cafes.     The  judg- 
ment here  corrects  the  inequalities  of  our  internal 
emotions   and  perceptions;    in  like  manner,    as  it 
prefer ves  us  from  error,   in  the   feveral  variations 
of  images,  prefented   to  our  external  fenfes.     The 
fame  objedt,  at  a  double  diftance,    really  throws  on 
the  eye  a  pidlure  of  but   half  the   bulkj   yet  we 
imagine  that  it   appears  of  the  fame  fize  in  both 
fuuations;    becaufe   we  know,    that,    on   our   ap- 
proach to  it,   its  image  would  expand  on  the  eye, 
and  that  the  difference  confifts  not  in  the  objedb  it- 
felf,    but  in  our  pofition  with  regard  to  ic.     And, 
indeed,  without  fuch  a  corre(5lion  of  appearances, 
both    in    internal    and   external    fentiment,     men 
could   never   think   or  talk  fteadily   on  any   fub- 
jcdt ;    while  their   fluctuating  fituations  produce  a 
continual    variation   on   obje6ls,    and    throw  them 
into  fuch    different  and  contrary  lights   and  pofi- 
tions  *. 

The  more  we  converfe  with  mankind,  and  the 
greater  focial  intercourfe  we  maintain,  the  more 
fhall  we  be  familiarized  to  thefe  general  preferen- 
ces and  diltinclions,  without  which  our  converfati- 
on  and  dilcourfe  could  fcarcely  be  rendered  intelli- 


gible 


•  Sec   NOTE    [DD]. 


Why  Utility  pleases.  277 

gible  to  each  other.  Every  man's  intereft  is  pecu- 
liar to  himlelf,  and  the  averfions  and  defires,  which 
rcAilt  from  it,  cannot  be  fuppofed  to  affed  others 
in  a  like  de^rree.  General  lano-ua^e,  therefore  be- 
ing  formed  for  general  ufe,  muft  be  moulded  on 
fome  more  general  views,  and  muft  affix  the  epithets 
of  praife  or  blame,  in  conformity  to  fentiments, 
which  arife  from  the  general  interefts  of  the  com- 
munity. And  if  thefe  fentiments,  in  moft  men, 
be  not  fo  ftrong  as  thofe,  which  have  a  reference  to 
private  good ;  yet  ftill  they  muft  make  fome  dif- 
tindlion,  even  in  perfons  the  moft  depraved  and 
felfifhi  and  muft  attach  the  notion  of  good  to  a 
beneficent  condufl,  and  of  evil  to  the  contrary. 
Sympathy,  we  fhall  allow,  is  much  fainter  than  our 
concern  for  ourfelves,  and  fympathy  with  perfons 
remote  from  us,  much  fainter  than  that  with  per- 
fons near  and  contiguous;  but  for  this  very  rea- ■ 
fon,  it  is  neceffary  for  us,  in  our  calm  judgments 
and  difcourfe  •  concerning  the  characters  of  men, 
to  neglect  all  thefe  differences,  and  render  our  fen- 
timents more  public  and  focial.  Befides,  that  we 
ourfelves  often  change  our  fituation  in  this  parti- 
cular, we  every  day  meet  with  perfons,  who  are  in 
a  fituation  different  from  us,  and  who  could  never 
converfe  with  us,  v/ere  we  to  remain  conftantly  in 
that  pofition  and  point  of  view,  which  is  peculiar 
to  ourfelves.  The  intercourfe  of  fentiments,  there- 
fore, in  fociety  and  converfation,  makes  us  form 
fome  general  unalterable  ftandard,  by  which  we 
may  approve  or  difapprove  of  characters  and  man- 
ners. And  though  the  heart  takes  not  part  en- 
tirely with  thofe  general  notions,  nor  regulates  all 
its  love  and  hatred,  by  the  univerfal,  abftracl  dif- 
ferences of  vice  and  virtue,  without  regard  to  felf, 
or  the  perfons  with  whom  we  are  more  intimately 
conne6led  ;  yet  have  thefe  moral  differences  acon- 
fiderable  influence,  and  being  fufficient,  at  leaft, 

for 


278  S    E    C    T    I    O    N      V. 

for  difcourfe,  ferve  all  purpofes  in  company,  in  the 
pulpit,  on  the  theatre,  and  in  the  fchools*. 

Thus,  in  whatever  light  we  take  this  fubjefb,  the 
merit,  afcribed  to  the  focial  virtues,  appears  ftill 
uniform,  and  arifes  chiefly  from  that  regard,  which 
the  natural  fentiment  of  benevolence  engages  us  to 
pay  to  the  interests  of  mankind  and  Ibciety.  If  we 
eonfider  the  principles  of  the  human  make,  fuch 
as  they  appear  to  daily  experience  and  obfervation, 
we  muil",  a  prioriy  conclude  it  impolTible  for  fuch 
a  creature  as  man  to  be  totally  indiiferent  to  the 
well  or  ill-being  of  his  fellow-creatures,  and  not 
readily,  of  himfelf,  to  pronounce,  where  nothing 
gives  him  any  particular  byafs,  that  what  promotes 
their  happinefs  is  good,  what  tends  to  their  mifery 
is  evil,  without  any  farther  regard  or  confiderati- 
on.  Here  then  are  the  faint  rudiments,  at  leaft, 
or  out-lines,  of  a  general  diftinflion  between  ac- 
tions J  and  in  proportion  as  the  humanity  of  the 
perfon  is  fuppofcd  to  encreafe,  his  connexion  with 
thofe  who  are  injured  or  benefited,  and  his  lively 
conception  of  their  mifery  or  happinefs ;  his  con- 
fequent  cenfure  or  approbation  acquires  proporti- 
onable vigour.  There  is  no  necefllty,  that  a  ge- 
nerous adlion,  barely  mentioned  in  an  old  hiftory 
or  remote  gazette,  fhould  communicate  any  ftrong 
feelings  of  applaufe  and  admiration.  Virtue, 
placed  at  fuch  a  diflance,  is  like  a  fixed  ftar,  which, 
though  to  the  eye  of  reafon,  it  may  appear  as  lu- 
minous as  the  fun  in  his  meridian,  is  fo  infinitely 
removed,  as  to  afic6t  the  fenfes,  neither  with  light 
nor  heat.  Bring  this  virtue  nearer,  by  our  ac- 
quaintance or  connexion  with  the  perfons,  or  even 
by  an  eloquent  recital  of  the  cafe^  our  hearts  are 
immediately  caught,  our  fympathy  enlivened,  and 
our  cool  approbation  converted  into  the  warmeft 
fentiments  of  friendihip  and  regard.     Thefe  fecm 

neceflary 

♦  Se€  NOTE  [EEJ. 


Why  Utility  pleases.  279 

n^ceflary  and  infallible  confequences  of  the  gene- 
ral principles  of  human  nature,  as  difcovered  in 
common  life  and  pradtice. 

Again  ;  reverfc  thefe  views  and  reafonings  :  Con- 
fider  the  matter  h  pojhnori ;  and  weighing  the  con- 
fequences,  enquire  if  the  merit  of  focial  virtue  be 
not,  in  a  great  meafure,  derived  from  the  feelings 
of  humanity,  with  which  it  affefts  the  fpeftators. 
It  appears  to  be  matter  of  fad,  that  the  circum- 
ftance  of  utility^  in  all  fubjeds,  is  a  fource  of  praife 
and  approbation  :  That  it  is  conftantly  appealed  to 
in  all  moral  decifions  concerning  the  merit  and  de- 
merit of  adions  :  That  it  is  the  folc  fource  of  that 
high  regard  paid  to  jullice,  fidelity,  honour,  al- 
legiance, and  chaftity  :  That  it  is  infeparable  from 
all  the  other  focial  virtues,  humanity,  gencrofity, 
charity,  affability,  lenity,  mercy  and  moderation  : 
And,  in  a  word,  that  it  is  a  foundation  of  the  chief 
part  of  morals,  which  has  a  reference  to  mankind 
and  our  fellow-creatures. 

It  appears  alfo,  that,  in  our  general  approbation 
of  charaders  and  manners,  the  ufeful  tendency  of 
the  focial  virtues  moves  us  not  by  any  regards  to 
felf- inter  eft,  but  has  an  influence  much  more  uni- 
verfal  and  cxtenfive.  It  appears,  that  a  tendency 
to  public  good,  and  to  the  promoting  of  peace, 
harmony,  and  order  in  fociety,  does  always,  by 
affeding  the  benevolent  principles  of  our  frame, 
engage  us  on  the  fide  of  the  focial  virtues.  And  it 
appears,  as  an  additional  confirmation,  that  thefe 
principles  of  humanity  and  fympathy  enter  fo  deep- 
ly into  all  our  fentiments,  and  have  fo  powerful 
an  influence,  as  may  enable  them  to  excite  the 
ftrongeft  cenfure  and  applaufe.  The  prefent  theo- 
ry is  the  fimple  refult  of  all  thefe  inferences,  each 
of  which  feems  founded  on  uniform  experience  and 
obfervation. 

Were  it  doubtful,  whether  there  were  any  fuch 
principle   in  our  nature  as  humanity  or  a  concern 

for 


28g  S    E     C    T    I     O    N     v. 

for  others,  yet  when  we  fee,  in  nuinberlefs  inflan- 
ces,  that  whatever  has  a  tendency  to  promote  the 
interefts  of  fociety,  is  fo  highly  approved  of,  we 
ought  thence  to  learn  the  force  of  the  benevolent 
principle ;  fince  it  is  impoffible  for  any  thing  to 
pleafe  as  means  to  an  end,  where  the  end  is  total- 
ly indifferent.  On  the  other  hand,  were  it  doubt- 
ful, whether  there  were,  implanted  in  our  nature, 
any  general  principle  of  moral  blame  and  appro- 
bation, yet  when  v/e  fee,  in  numberlefs  inftances, 
the  influence  of  humanity,  we  ought  thence  to  con- 
clude, that  it  is  impoilible,  but  that  every  thing, 
which  promotes  the  interefl  of  fociety,  mufl  com- 
municate pleafure,  and  what  is  pernicious  give  un- 
eafmefs.  But  when  thefe  different  reflexions  and 
obfei-vations  concur  in  eflablifhing  the  fame  con- 
clufion,  muft  they  not  beftow  an  undifputed  evi- 
dence upon  it? 

It  is  ho ?^ ever  hoped,  that  tlie  progrefs  of  this  ar- 
gument will  bring  a  farther  confirmation  of  the  pre- 
fent  theory,  by  Ihowing  the  rife  of  other  fentiments 
of  efteem  and  regard  from  the  fame  or  like  princi- 
ples, 


S  E  C- 


(     28i     ) 


SECTION       VI. 

Of  Qualities  Useful  to  Ourselves. 
PART       I. 


I 


T  feems  cvicdnt,  that  where  a  quality  or  ha- 
bit is  fubje6ted  to  our  examination,  if  it  ap- 
pear, in  any  refpedl,  prejudicial  to  the  perfon 
pofiefled  of  it,  or  fuch  as  incapacitates  him  for 
bufmefs  and  aftion,  it  is  inftantly  blamed,  and 
ranked  among  his  faults  and  imperfections.  In- 
dolence, negligence,  want  of  order  and  method, 
obftinacy,  ficklenefs,  credulity;  thefe  qualities 
were  never  efteemed  by  any  one  indifferent  to 
a  character;  much  lefs,  extolled  as  accompli ih- 
ments  or  virtues.  The  prejudice,  refulting  from 
them,  immediately  ftrikes  our  eye,  and  gives  us 
the  fentiment   of  pain    and   difapprobation. 

No  quality,  it  is  allowed,  is  abfolutely  either 
blameable  or  praife-worrhy.  It  is  all  according 
to  its  degree.  A  due  medium,  fay  the  Peri-, 
patetics,  is  the  charafleriftic  of  virtue.  But  this 
medium  is  chiefly  determined  by  utility.  A  pro- 
per celerity,  for  inftance,  and  difpatch  in  bufi- 
nefs,  is  commendable.  When  defeftive,  no  pro- 
grefs  is  ever  made  in  the  execution  of  any  pur- 
pofe :  When  excefiive,  it  engages  us  in  precipi- 
tate   and   ill-concerted  meafures    and  e;iterprifes ; 

By 


a82  S    E    C    T    I    O    N      VI. 

By  fuch  reafonings,  we  fix  the  proper  and  com- 
mendable mediocrity  in  all  moral  and  pruden- 
tial difquifitions  j  and  never  lofe  view  of  the  ad- 
vantages, which  refult  from  any  character  or 
habit. 

Now  as  thefe  advantages  are  enjoyed  by  the 
perfon  poflefled  of  the  charadter,  it  can  never 
be  Jelf-hve  which  renders  the  profpe6b  of  them 
agreeable  to  us,  the  fpeclators,  and  prompts  our 
efteem  and  aprobation.  No  force  of  imaginati- 
on can  convert  us  into  another  perfon,  and 
make  us  fancy,  that  we  being  that  perfon,  reap 
benefit  from  thofe  valuable  qualities,  which  be- 
long to  him.  Or  if  it  did,  no  celerity  of  ima- 
gination could  immediately  tranfport  us  back, 
into  ourfelves,  and  make  us  love  and  efteem 
the  perfon,  as  different  from  us.  Views  and  fen- 
timents,  {o  oppofite  to  known  truth,  and  to  each 
other,  could  never  have  place,  at  the  fame  time, 
in  the  fame  perfon.  All  fufpicion,  therefore,  of 
felfifli  regards,  is  here  totally  excluded.  It  is 
a  quite  different  principle,  which  actuates  our 
bofom,  and  interefts  us  in  the  felicity  of  the  perfon 
whom  we  contemplate.  Where  his  natural  ta- 
lents and  acquired  abilities  give  us  the  profpeft 
of  elevation,  advancement,  a  figure  in  life,  prof- 
perous  fuccefs,  a  ftcady  command  over  fortune, 
and  the  connexion  of  great  or  advantageous  un- 
dertakings; we  are  ftruck  with  fuch  agreeable 
images,  and  feel  a  complacency  and  regard  im- 
mediately arife  towards  him.  The  ideas  of  hap- 
pinefs,  joy,  triumph,  profperity,  are  connected 
with  every  circumftance  of  his  characfler,  and 
diffufe  over  our  minds  a  pleafing  fentiment  of 
fympathy   and  humanity*. 

Let  us  fuppofe  a  perfon  originally  framed  fo 
as  to  have  no  manner  of  concern  for  his  fel- 
low-creatures,   but   to   regard   the   happinefs    and 

mifery 
•  See  NOTE  [FF]. 


of  Qualities  Useful  to  Ourselves.      283 

mifery  of  all  fenfible  beings  with  greater  indif- 
ference than  even  two  contiguous  fhades  of  the 
fame  colour.  Let  us  fuppofe,  if  the  profperi- 
ty  of  nations  were  laid  on  the  one  hand,  and 
their  ruin  on  the  other,  and  he  were  defired  to 
choofe;  that  he  would  (land,  like  the  fchool- 
man's  afs,  irrefolute  and  undetermined,  between 
equal  motives;  or  rather,  like  the  fame  afs  be- 
tween two  pieces  of  wood  or  marble,  without 
any  inclination  or  propenfity  to  either  fide.  The 
confequence,  I  believe,  muft  be  allowed  jud,  that 
fuch  a  perfon,  being  abfolutely  unconcerned,  ei- 
ther for  the  public  good  of  a  community  or  tlie 
private  utility  of  others,  would  look  on  every 
quality,  however  pernicious,  or  however  benefi- 
cial, to  fociety,  or  to  its  pofTeffor,  as  on  the  moll 
common  and   uninterefting  objefl. 

But  if,  inflead  of  this  fancied  monfter,  wc 
fuppofe  a  man  to  form  a  judgment  or  deter- 
mination in  the  cafe,  there  is  to  him  a  plain 
foundation  of  preference,  where  every  thing  elfc 
is  equal ;  and  however  cool  his  choice  may  be, 
if  his  heart  be  felfifh,  or  if  the  perfons  inte- 
refled  be  remote  from  himj  there  mull  flill  be 
a  choice  or  difl:in6lion  between  what  is  ufefiil, 
and  what  is  pernicious.  Now  this  diilin6lion  is 
the  fame  in  all  its  parts,  with  the  moral  dijlhic- 
sioriy  whofe  foundation  has  been  fo  often,  and 
fo  much  in  vain,  enquired  after.  The  fame  en- 
dowments of  the  mind,  in  every  circumftance, 
are  agreeable  to  the  fentiment  of  morals  and  to 
that  of  humanity;  the  fame  temper  is  fufcepti- 
ble  of  high  degrees  of  the  one  fentiment  and  of  the 
other;  and  the  fame  alteration  in  the  objects, 
by  their  nearer  approach  or  by  connexions,  enli- 
vens the  one  and  the  other.  By  all  the  rules 
of  philofophy,  therefore,  v/e  muft  conclude,  that 
thefe  fentiments  are  originally  the  fame;  fince, 
in    each   particular,    even    the   moft  minute,  they 

are 


284  SECTION      VI. 

arc  governed  by  the  fame  laws,  and  are  moved 
by  the  fame   objects. 

Why  do  philofophers  infer,  with  the  greateft 
certainty,  that  the  moon  is  kept  in  its  orbit  by 
the  fame  force  of  gravity,  that  makes  bodies 
fall  near  the  furface  of  the  earth,  but  becaufe 
thefe  effed:s  are,  upon  computation,  found  fimi- 
lar  and  equal  ?  And  mull  not  this  argument 
bring  as  flrong  convicftion,  in  moral  as  in  natu- 
ral difquifitions  ? 

To  prove,  by  any  long  detail,  that  all  the 
qualities,  ufeful  to  the  poflefTor,  are  approved  of, 
and  the  contrary  cenfured,  would  be  fuperfluous. 
The  lead  reflei^iion  on  what  is  every  day  expe- 
rienced in  life,  will  be  fufficient.  We  fhall  on- 
ly mention  a  few  inftances,  in  order  to  remove, 
if  poffible,  all  doubt  and  hefitation. 

The  quality,  the  moll  neceffary  for  the  execu- 
tion of  any  ufeful  enterprife,  is  Difcretionj  by 
which  we  carry  on  a  fafe  intercourfe  with  others, 
give  due  attention  to  our  own  and  to  their  cha- 
rad:er,  weigh  each  circumftance  of  the  bufinefs 
which  we  undertake,  and  employ  the  fureft  and 
fafeft  means  for  the  attainment  of  any  end  or 
purpofe.  To  a  Cromwell,  perhaps,  or  a  De  Retz, 
difcretion  may  appear  an  alderman-like  virtue, 
as  Dr.  Swift  calls  it;  and  being  incompatible 
with  thofe  vafb  defigns,  to  which  their  courage 
and  ambition  prompted  them,  it  might  really, 
in  them,  be  a  fault  or  imperfedion.  But  in  the 
conduct  of  ordinary  life,  no  virtue  is  more  re- 
quifite,  not  only  to  obtain  fuccefs,  but  to  avoid 
the  moft  fatal  mifcarriages  and  difappointments. 
The  greateft  parts  without  it,  as  obferved  by 
an  elegant  writer,  may  be  fatal  to  their  owner; 
as  Polyphemus,  deprived  of  his  eye,  was  only 
the  more  expofed,  on  account  of  his  enormous 
ftrength  and  ftature. 

The  bell  charafter,  indeed,  were  it  not  rather 

too 


Of  Qualities  Useful  to  Ourselves.     285 

too  perfe6t  for   human  nature,    is    that   which   is 
not   fwayed    by  temper  of  any   kind;    but  alter- 
nately employs  enterprife    and   caution,    as   each 
is    ufeful    to     the     particular     purpofe     intended. 
Such  is    the   excellence   which  St.  Evremond  af- 
cribes  to  marefchal  Turenne,  who  difplayed  every 
campaign,    as  he   grew   older,    more    temerity   in 
his    military   enterprifes ;    and    being   now,   from 
long  experience,  perfe6lly  acquainted   with  every 
incident  in   war,  he  advanced  with  greater   firm- 
nefs  and    fecurity,    in  a   road  fo  well  known    to 
him.      Fabius,     fays    Machiavel,     "was     cautious ; 
Scipio    enterprifing :    And    both     fucceeded,    be- 
caufe  the  fituation  of  the  Roman   affairs,  during 
the    command    of  each,    was    peculiarly    adapted 
to  his    genius  ?  but  both  would  have  failed,  had 
thefe     fituations    been    reverfed.       He    is   happy, 
whofe    circumftances  fuit  his   temper;    but   he    is 
more  excellent,  who  can  fuit   his  temper  to  any 
circumftances. 

What  need  is  there  to  difplay  the  praifes  of 
Induftry,  and  to  extol  its  advantages,  in  the  ac- 
quifition  of  power  and  riches,  or  in  raifing  what 
we  call  a  fortune  in  the  world  ?  The  tortoife, 
according  to  the  fable,  by  his  perfeverance,  gain- 
ed the  race  of  the  hare,  though  poflefTed  of  much 
fuperior  fwifrnefs.  A  man's  time,  when  well  huf- 
banded,  is  like  a  cultivated  field,  ofwhichafew 
acres  produce  more  of  what  is  ufeful  to  life, 
than  extenfive  provinces,  even  of  the  richcft  foil, 
when   over-run   with  weeds  and   brambles. 

But  all  profpe6l  of  fuccefs  in  life,  or  even  of 
tolerable  fubfiftence,  mull  fail,  where  a  reafon- 
able  Frugality  is  wanting.  The  heap,  inftead 
of  encreafing,  diminifhes  daily,  and  leaves  its  pof- 
feflbr  fo  much  more  unhappy,  as,  not  having  been 
able  to  confine  his  expences  to  a  large  revenue, 
he  will  ftill  lefs  be  able  to  live  contentedly  on 
a   fmall  one.      The  fouls  of  men,    according  to 

Plato, 


286  SECTION       VI. 

Plato  f,  inflamed  with  impure  apperites,  and 
lofing  the  body,  which  alone  afforded  means  of 
fatisfadlion,  hover  about  the  earth,  and  haunt  the 
places,  where  their  bodies  are  depofited;  poflef- 
fed  with  a  longing  defire  to  recover  the  loft 
organs  of  fenfation.  So  may  we  fee  worthlefs 
prodigals,  having  confumed  their  fortune  in  wild 
debauches,  thrufting  themfelves  into  every  plen- 
tiful table,  and  every  party  of  pleafure,  hated 
even  by  the  vicious,  and  defpifed  even   by  fools. 

The  one  extreme  of  frugality  is  avarice^  which, 
as  it  both  deprives  a  man  of  all  ufe  of  his  riches, 
and  checks  hofpitality  and  every  focial  enjoy- 
ment, is  juftly  cenfured  on  a  double  account. 
Prodigality  J  the  other  extreme,  is  commonly  more 
hurtful  to  a  man  himfelf  j  and  each  of  thefe  ex- 
tremes is  blamed  above  the  other,  according  to 
the  temper  of  the  perfon  who  cenfures,  and  ac- 
cording to  his  greater  or  lefs  fenfibility  to  plea- 
fure, either  focial  or  fenfual. 

Qualities  often  derive  their  merit  from  com- 
plicated fources.  Honejlyy  fidelity,  truth,  are  praif- 
cd  for  their  immediate  tendency  to  promote  the 
intereft  of  focietyj  but  after  thofe  virtues  are 
once  eflablifhed  upon  this  foundation,  they  are 
alfo  confidcred  as  advantageous  to  the  perfon 
himfelf,  and  as  the  fource  of  that  truft  and  con- 
fidence, which  can  alone  give  a  man  any  confi- 
deration  in  life.  One  becomes  contemptible,  no 
lefs  than  odious,  when  he  forgets  the  duty,  which, 
in  this  particular,  he  owes  to  himfelf  as  well  as 
to  fociety. 

Perhaps,  this  confideration  is  one  chief  fource 
of  the  high  blame,  which  is  thrown  on  any  in- 
ftance  of  failure  ainong  women  in  point  of  chaf- 
tity.  The  greateft  regard,  which  can  be  acquired 
by  that  fex,  is  derived  from  their  fidelity;  and 
a  woman   becomes    cheap   and  vulgar,    lofes   her 

rank, 
t  Phsdo. 


Of  Qualities  Useful  to  Ourselves.     287 

rank,  and  is  expofed  to  every  infult,  who  is  de- 
ficient in  this  particular.  The  fmalleft  failure 
is  here  fufficient  to  blaft  her  character.  A  fe- 
male has  lb  many  opportunities  of  fecretly  in- 
dulging thefe  appetites,  that  nothing  can  give 
us  fecurity  but  her  abfolute  modefty  and  re- 
ferve  -,  and  where  a  breach  is  once  made,  it  can 
fcarcely  ever  be  fully  repaired.  If  a  man  be- 
have with  cowardice  on  one  occafion,  a  contrary 
conduct  rcinftates  him  in  his  chara6ler.  But  by 
what  a(5lion  can  a  woman,  whofe  behaviour  has 
once  been  difTolute,  be  able  to  aflure  us,  that 
fhe  has  formed  better  refolutions,  and  has  felf- 
command  enough  to  carry  them  into  execution  ? 
All  men,  it  is  allowed,  are  equally  defirous 
of  happinefs;  but  few  are  fuccefsful  in  the  pur- 
fuit:  One  confiderable  caufe  is  the  want  of  Strength 
of  Mind,  which  might  enable  them  to  refift  the 
temptation  of  prefent  eafe  or  pleafure,  and  car- 
ry them  forward  in  the  fearch  of  more  diftant 
profit  and  enjoyment.  Our  affeftions,  on  a  ge- 
neral profpe6t  of  their  objeds,  form  certain  rules 
of  condu6t,  and  certain  meafures  of  preference 
of  one  above  another:  And  thefe  decifions,  though 
really  the  refult  of  our  calm  pafTions  and  pro- 
penfities,  (for  what  elfe  can  pronounce  any  ob- 
jeft  eligible  or  the  contrary  ?)  are  yet  faid,  by 
a  natural  abufe  of  terms,  to  be  the  determina- 
tions of  pure  reajon  and  refleftion.  But  when 
fome  of  thefe  objefts  approach  nearer  to  us,  or 
acquire  the  advantages  of  favourable  lights  and 
politions,  which  catch  the  heart  or  imagination ; 
our  general  refolutions  are  frequently  confounded, 
a  fmall  enjoyment  preferred,  and  lafting  fhame 
and  forrow  entailed  upon  us.  And  however 
poets  may  employ  their  wit  and  eloquence,  in 
celebrating  prefent  pleafure,  and  rejefting  all  dif- 
tant views  to  fame,  health,  or  for':iinej  it  is  ob- 
vious, that  this  praflice  is   the  fource  of  all   dif- 

folutenefs 


288  SECTION      VI. 

folutunefs  and  diforder,  repentance  and  mifeiy^ 
A  man  of  a  ftrong  and  determined  temper  ad- 
heres tenacioufly  to  his  general  refolutions,  and 
is  neither  feduced  by  the  allurements  of  pleafure, 
nor  terrified  by  the  menaces  of  pain;  but  keeps 
ftill  in  view  thofe  diftant  purfuits,  by  which  he, 
at  once,  enfures  his  happinefs  and  his  honour. 

Self-fatisfadion,  at  leaft  in  fome  degree,  is  an 
advantage,  which  equally  attends  the  Fool  and 
the  Wife  Man:  But  it  is  the  only  one;  nor  is 
there  any  other  circumftance  in  the  condud  of 
life,  where  they  are  upon  an  equal  footing.  Bu- 
finefs,  books,  converfation ;  for  all  thefe,  a  fool 
is  totally  incapacitated,  and  except  condemned 
by  his  ftation  to  the  coarfeft  drudgery,  remains 
a  ufele/s  burden  upon  the  earth.  Accordingly, 
it  is  found,  that  men  are  extremely  jealous  of 
their  charafter  in  this  particular;  and  many  in- 
fbances  are  feen  of  profligacy  and  treachery,  the 
moft  avowed  and  unreferved;  none  of  bearing 
patiently  the  imputation  of  ignorance  and  ftu- 
pidity.  Dicaearchus,  the  Macedonian  general, 
who,  as  Polybius  tells  us*,  openly  erefted  one 
altar  to  impiety,  another  to  injuftice,  in  order 
to  bid  defiance  to  mankind;  even  he,  I  am  well 
aflured,  would  have  ftarted  ar  the  epithet  of  fooly 
and  have  meditated  revenge  for  fo  injurious  an 
appellation.  Except  the  affection  of  parents,  the 
ftrongeft  and  moil  indifibluble  bond  in  nature, 
no  connexion  has  Hrength  fufTicient  to  fi.pport 
the  difgull  arifing  from  this  charafter.  Love 
itfelf,  which  can  fubfift  "under  treachery,  ingra- 
titude, malice,  and  inftwielity,  is  immediately  ex- 
tinguifned  by  it,  when  perceived  and  acknow- 
ledged ;  nor  are  deformity  and  old  age  more  fatal 
to  the  dominio";  of  that  palTion.  So  dreadful 
are   the  ideas  of  an  utter  incapacity  for  any  pur- 

pofe 

•  Lib.  xvii.  cap,  35. 


Of  Qualities  Useful  to  Ourselves.     289 

pofc  or  undertaking,  and   of  continued  error  and 
mifcondud  in  life  ! 

When  it  is  afked,  whether  a  quick  or  a  flow 
apprehcnfion  be  moil  valuable  ?  Whether  one, 
that,  at  firfl  view,  penetrates  far  into  a  fubjedl, 
but  can  perform  nothing  upon  ftudyj  or  a  con- 
trary charafter,  which  muft  work  out  every  thing 
by  dint  of  application?  Whether  a  profound  ge- 
nius or  a  fure  judgment  ?  In  Ihort,  what  charaa- 
ter,  or  peculiar  turn  of  underftanding  is  more 
excellent  than  another  ?  It  is  evident,  that  we  can 
anfwer  none  of  thefe  queftions,  without  confi- 
dering  which  of  thofe  qualities  capacitates  a  man 
beft  for  the  world,  and  carries  him  fartheft  in 
any  undertaking. 

If  refined  fenfe  and  exalted  fenfe  be  not  fo 
ujeful  as  common  fenfe,  their  rarity,  their  novel- 
ty, and  the  noblenefs  of  their  objects  make  fome 
compenfation,  and  render  them  the  admiration 
of  mankind :  As  gold,  though  lefs  ferviceable 
than  iron,  acquires,  from  its  fcarcity^  a  value^ 
which  is   much  fuperior. 

The  defeats  of  judgment  can  be  fupplied  by 
no  art  or  invention  \  but  thofe  of  Memory  fre- 
quently may,  both  in  bufmefs  and  in  ftudy,  by 
method  and  induftry,  and  by  diligence  in  com- 
mitting every  thing  to  writing;  and  we  fcarcely 
ever  hear  a  fhort  memory  given  as  a  reafon  for 
a  man's  failure  in  any  undertaking.  But  in  an- 
cient time.s,  when  no  man  could  make  a  figure 
without  the  talent  of  fpeaking,  and  when  tlie  au- 
dience were  too  delicate  to  bear  fuch  crude,  un- 
digcfted  harangues  as  ogr  extemporary  orators 
offer  to  public  aflemhiies;  the  faculty  of  memo- 
ry v/as  then  of  the  utmoft  confequence,  and  was 
accordingly  much  more  valued  than  at  prefcnc. 
Scarce  any  great  genius  is  mentioned  in  anti- 
quity, who  is  not   celebrated  for  this  talent;   and 

Vol.  i\.  \j  Cicero 


290         SECTION      VI. 

Cicero    enumerates    it  among   the  other   fublimc 
qualities   of  Ca:far  himfelf f. 

Particular  cuftoms  and  manners  alter  the  ufe- 
fulnefs  of  qualities :  They  alfo  alter  their  merit. 
Particular  fituations  and  accidents  have,  in  fome 
degree,  the  fame  influence.  He  will  always  be 
•  mote  efteemed,  who  poflefles  thofe  talents  and 
accomplifhments,  which  fuit  his  ftation  and  pro- 
feffion,  than  he  whom  fortune  has  mifplaced  in 
the  part  which  fhe  has  affigned  him.  The  pri- 
vate or  felfifli  virtues  are,  in  this  refpeft,  more 
arbitrary  than  the  public  and  focial.  In  other  ref- 
peds,  they  are,  perhaps,  lefs  liable  to  doubt  and 
controverfy^ 

In  this  kingdom,  fuch  continued  oftentation, 
of  late  years,  has  prevailed  among  men  in  aBive 
life  with  regard  to  public  Jpirit^  and  among  thofe 
in  fpectilative  with  regard  to  benevolence y  and  fo 
many  falfe  pretenfions  to  each  have  been,  no 
doubt,  dete(5led,  that  men  of  the  world  are  apt, 
without  any  bad  intention,  to  difcover  a  fullen 
incredulity  on  the  head  of  thofe  moral  endow- 
ments, and  even  fometimes  abfolutely  to  deny  their 
exiftence  and  reality.  In  like  manner,  1  find, 
that,  of  old,  the  perpetual  cant  of  the  Stoics  and 
Cynics  concerning  virtue,  their  magnificent  pro- 
fellions  and  {lender  performances,  bred  a  dif- 
guft  in  mankind;  and  Lucian,  who,  though  li- 
centious with  regard  to  pleafure,  is  yet,  in  other 
rerpe<51:P,  a  very  moral  writer,  cannot,  fometimes, 
talk  of  virtue,  fo  much  boif^ed,  without  betray- 
ing fymptoms  of  fpleen   and   irony*.     But    furely 

this 

f  Fuit  in  illo  ingenium,  ratio,  memoria,  literas,  cura,  cogi- 
tatio,  diJigentia,  i5c.     Philip.  2. 

•  A|-:TMVTii«.  Xttj  a.au-iJi.ci.TA  Xtti  A)<p«S" /Lii'^axw  tm  (pcDVif  ^nEipotrai. 
Luc.  I'lMO  .  Again,  Kai  av\a.'/ayci\Ti^  {oKfixco-o(f.oi)  ivi,eL7ra.Ty- 
ia  jt'.fipc'.xi*  TnrT=»G;oAy!!irpt,AM'TO)  ttpi'Tur  Tptt>&'je<fn.  IcuRO-MSN» 
In  teiiothcr  place,  H«-/r  >ap  eriv  m 'a)0M/2fpi'AAJ)T(g.-  ctpiTJi.  k  (ftcri.,-, 
xa;  s/^rtf/u:?*)),  )cai  Ti/C"y  em-TTi^-  atx  xcti  kda  trpap-zwaTo.)  »io,«ctTa. 
Deor.  Coacil.^ 


Of"  Qualities  Useful  to  Ourselves.     291 

this  peevifh  delicacy,  whence-ever  it  arifes,  can 
never  be  carried  fo  far  as  to  make  us  deny  tlie 
exiftence  of  every  fpecies  of  merit,  and  all  dif- 
tindlion  of  manners  and  beJiaviotir.  Befides  dij- 
cretioUj  caution^  enierprijcy  indujlry,  ajjiduity,  fruga- 
lity ^  cfcoyiomy^  good-jenje^  prudence y  dijcernment  \  be- 
fides thefe  endowments,  I  fay,  whofe  very  names 
force  an  avowal  of  their  merit,  there  are  many 
others,  to  which  the  mofl:  determined  fcepticifm  • 
cannot,  for  a  moment  refufe  the  tribute  of  praife 
and  approbation.  'Temperance^  Johrietyy  patience.^ 
conjiancy^  per/ever ajtce,  forethought,  confideratenefs, 
Jecrecy,  order,  inftnuation,  addrefs,  prefence  of  mind, 
quicknefs  of  conception,  facility  of  exprejjion;  thefe, 
and  a  thoufand  more  of  the  fame  kind,  no  man 
will  ever  deny  to  be  excellencies  and  perfections. 
As  their  merit  confiils  in  their  tendency  to  ferve 
the  perfon,  poffefTed  of  them,  without  any  mag- 
nificent claim  to  public  and  focial  defert,  we  are 
the  lefs  jealous  of  their  pretenfions,  and  readily 
admit  them  into  the  catalogue  of  laudable  qua- 
lities. We  are  not  fenfible,  that,  by  this  con- 
ceflion,  we  have  paved  the  v/ay  for  all  the  other 
moral  exctllencies,  and  cannot  confidently  hefi- 
tate  anv  lono^er,  with  req;ard  to  difinterefted  be- 
nevolence,  patriotifm,  and  humanity. 

It  feems,  indeed,  certain,  that  firft  appearances 
are  here,  as  ufual,  extremely  deceitful,  and  that 
it  is  mere  difficult,  in  a  fpeculative  way,  to  re- 
folve  into  felf-love  the  merit,  which  we  afcribe 
to  the  felfifll  virtues  above-mentioned,  than  that 
even  of  the  focial  virtues,  juftice  and  beneficence. 
For  this  latter  purpofe,  we  need  but  fay,  that 
whatever  conduft  promotes  the  good  of  the  com- 
munity is  loved,  praifed,  and  eiteemed  by  the 
community,  on  account  of  that  utility  and  inte- 
refl,  of  which  every  one  partakes :  And  though 
this  af^cdion  and  rt-gard  be,  in  reality,  gratitude, 
not  felf-love,  yet    a  dirtinction,  even  of  this   ob- 

U  2  vious 


292  S    E    C    T    I    O    N    VI. 

vions  nature,  may  not  readily  be  made  by  fu- 
perficial  reafonersj  and  there  is  room,  at  lead, 
to  fupport  the  cavil  and  difpute  for  a  moment. 
But  as  qualities,  which  tend  only  to  the  utility 
of  their  pofleflbr,  without  any  reference  to  us, 
or  to  the  community,  are  yet  efteemed  and  va- 
lued i  by  what  theory  or  fyftem  can  we  account 
,  for  this  fentiment  from  fclf-love,  or  deduce  it 
from  that  favourite  origin  ?  There  feems  here  a 
neceflity  for  confeffing  that  the  happinefs  and  mi- 
fery  of  others  are  not  fpe<5tacles  entirely  indiffe- 
rent to  usi  but  that  the  view  of  the  former, 
whether  in  its  caufes  or  effedls,  like  fun-fhine 
or  the  profpe£t  of  well-cultivated  plains,  (to  carry 
our  pretenfions  no  higher)  communicates  a  fe- 
cret  joy  and  fatisfaftion ;  the  appearance  of  the 
latter,  like  a  lowering  cloud  or  barren  landfkip, 
throws  a  melancholy  damp  over  the  imagination. 
And  this  conceffion  being  once  made,  the  diffi- 
culty is  over  J  and  a  natural  unforced  interpreta- 
tion of  the  phenomena  of  human  life  will  after- 
wards, we  may  hope,  prevail  among  all  fpecula- 
live  enquirers. 

P    A    R    T      IL 

It  may  not  be  improper,  in  this  place,  to  ex- 
amine the  influence  of  bodily  endowments,  and 
of  the  goods  of  fortune,  over  our  fentiments  of 
regard  and  efteem,  and  to  confider  whether  thefe 
phenomena  fortify  or  weaken  the  prefent  theory. 
It  will  naturally  be  expefted,  that  the  beauty  of 
the  body,  as  is  fuppofed  by  all  ancient  moralifts, 
will  be  fimilar,  in  fome  refpeds,  to  that  of  the 
mind;  and  that  every  kind  of  efteem,  which  is 
paid  to  a  man,  will  have  fomething  fimilar  in 
its  or'gin,  whether  it  arife  from  his  mental  en- 
dowments, or  from  the  fituation  of  his  exterior 
circumftances. 

It 


Of  Qualities  Useful  to  Ourselves.     293 

It  is  evident,  that  one  confiderable  fource  of 
beauty  in  all  animals  is  the  advantage,  which, 
they  reap  from  the  particular  ftrudturc  of  their 
limbs  and  members,  fuitably  to  the  particular 
manner  of  life,  to  which  they  are  by  nature  def- 
tined.  The  juft  proportions  of  a  horfe,  defcrib- 
ed  by  Xenophon  and  Virgil,  are  the  fame,  that 
are  received  at  this  day  by  our  modern  jockeys; 
becaufe  the  foundation  of  them  is  the  fame,  name- 
ly, experience  of  what  is  detrimental  or  ufefui 
in  the  animal. 

Broad  fhoulders,  a  lank  belly,  firm  joints,  ta- 
per legs;  all  thefe  are  beautiful  in  our  fpecies, 
becaufe  figns  of  force  and  vigour.  Ideas  of  utility 
and  its  contrary,  though  they  do  not  entirely  de- 
termine what  is  handfome  or  deformed,  are  evi- 
dently the  fource  of  a  confiderable  part  of  appro- 
bation  or   diflike. 

In  ancient  times,  bodily  ftrength  and  dexteri- 
ty, being  of  greater  ufe  and  importance  in  war, 
was  alfo  much  more  efteemed  and  valued,  than 
at  prefent.  Not  to  infill  on  Homer  and  the  po- 
ets, we  may  obferve,  that  hiftorians  fcruple  not 
to  mention  force  of  body  among  the  other  accom- 
plifhments  even  of  Epaminondas,  whom  they  ac- 
knowledge to  be  the  greateft  hero,  ftatefman,  and 
general  of  all  the  Greeks*.  A  like  praife  is  given 
to  Pompey,  one  of  the  greateft  of  the  Romansf. 
This  iiiftance  is  fimilar  to  what  we  obferved 
above,  with   regard   to  memory. 

What  derifion  and  contempt,  with  both  fexes, 
attend  impotence  -,  while  the  unhappy  object  is  re- 
garded as  one  deprived  of  fo  capital  a  pleafure 
in  life,  and  at  the  fair*e  time,  as  difabled  from 
communicating  it  to  others,  Barrennefs  in  wo- 
men, 

*  See  NOTE  [GG]. 

f  Cum  alacrihus,  faltu ;  cu7ti  njdocihiis,  curfu  ;  cnr^  valid}: 
reSt  ceriahat,  Sali.u«t  apud  Vecet. 


294  SECTION       VI. 

men,  being  alfo  a  fpecies  of  inutility^  is  a  re- 
proach, but  not  in  the  fame  degree :  of  which 
the  reafon  is  obvious,  according  to  the  prefent 
theory. 

There  is  no  rule  in  painting  or  ftatuary  more 
indifpenfible  than  that  of  balancing  the  figures, 
and  placing  them  with  the  grateft  exaftnefs  on 
their  proper  center  of  gravity.  A  figure,  which 
is  not  jullly  balanced,  is  ugly;  becaufe  it  con- 
veys the  difagreeable  ideas  of  fall,  harm,  and 
pain*. 

A  difpofition  or  turn  of  mind,  which  qualifies 
a  man  to  rife  in  the  world,  and  advance  his  for- 
tune, is  entitled  to  efteem  and  regard,  as  has 
already  been  explained.  It  may  therefore,  natu- 
rally be  fuppofed,  that  the  atlual  pofielfion  of 
riches  and  authority  will  have  a  confiderable  in- 
fluence over  thefe   fentiments. 

Let  us  examine  any  hypothefis,  by  which  we 
can  account  for  the  regard  paid  to  the  rich  and 
powerful:  We  Ihall  nnd  none  fatisfadory,  but 
that  which  derives  it  from  the  enjoyment  com- 
municated to  the  fpeclator  by  the  images  of  prof- 
perity,  happinefs,  cafe,  plenty,  authority,  and  the 
gratification  of  every  appetite.  Self-love,  tor  in- 
ftance,  which  fome  affedt  fo  much  to  confider  as 
the  fource  of  every  fenciment,  is  plamly  infuf- 
ficient  for  this  purpofc.  Where  no  good-will  or 
friendfhip  appears,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  on 
what  we  can  found  our  hope  of  advantage  from 
the  riches  of  others;  though  we  naturally  ref- 
pett  the  rich,  even  before  they  difcover  any  fuch 
favourable  difpofition  towards  us. 

We  are  aff^ected  witli  the  fame  fentiments,  when 
we  lie  fo  much  out  of  the  fphere  of  their  acti- 
vity, that  they  cannot  even  be  fuppofed  to  pof- 
fefs  the  power  of  fcrving  us.  A  prifoner  of  war, 
in   all  civilized  nations,   is  treated   with  a  regard 

fuited 
t  Sec   NOTE    [HH]. 


or  Qualities  Useful  to  Ourselves.     295 

luitcd  to  his  condition;  and  riches,  it  is  evident, 
go  far  towards  fixing  the  condition  of  any  per- 
fon.  l(  birth  and  quality  enter  for  a  fliare,  this 
flill  affords  us  an  argument  to  our  prefent  pur- 
pofe.  For  what  is  it  we  call  a  man  of  birth, 
but  one  who  is  defcended  from  a  long  fuccef- 
fion  of  rich  and  powerful  anceftors,  and  who  ac- 
quires our  efleem  by  his  connexion  with  perfons 
whom  we  efteem  ?  His  anceftors,  therefore,  though 
dead,  are  refpecled,  in  fome  meafure,  on  account 
of  their  riches ;  and  confequently,  without  any 
kind  of  expectation. 

But  not  to  go  fo  far  as  prifoners  of  war  or  the 
dead,  to  find  inftances  of  this  difinterefted  regard 
for  riches;  we  may  only  obferve,  with  a  little 
attention,  thofe  phenomena,  which  occur  in  com- 
mon life  and  converfation.  A  man,  who  is  him- 
felf,  we  fhall  fuppole,  of  a  competent  fortune, 
and  of  no  profefnon,  being  introduced  to  a  com- 
pany of  ftrangers,  naturally  treats  them  with  dif- 
ferenr  degrees  of  refpecl,  as  he  is  informed  of 
their  different  fortunes  and  conditions;  though  it 
is  impoffible  that  he  can  fo  fuddenly  propofe,  and 
perhaps  he  would  not  accept  of,  any  pecuniary 
advantage  from  them.  A  traveller  is  always  ad- 
mitted into  company,  and  meets  with  civility, 
in  proportion  as  his  train  and  equipage  Ipeak  him 
a  man  of  great  or  moderate  fortune.  In  fhort, 
the  different  ranks  of  men  are,  in  a  great  mea- 
fure, regulated  by  riches ;  and  that  with  regard 
to  fuperiors  as  well  as  inferiors,  ftrangers  as  well 
as  acquaintancT. 

What  remains,  therefore,  but  to  conclude,  that, 
as  riches  are  defired  for  ourlelves  only  as  the 
means  of  gratifying  our  appetites,  either  ac  pre- 
lent  or  in  fome  imaginary  future  period ;  they 
beget  efteem  in  others  merely  from  their  having 
that  influence.  This  indeed  is  their  very  nature 
or  effencc :  They  have  a  direct  reference   to   the 

commodities, 


296         S    E    C    T    I    O    N      VI. 

commodities,  conveniencies,  and  pleafures  of  life. 
The  bill  of  a  banker,  who  is  broke,  or  gold  in 
a  defart  ifland,  would  otherwife  be  full  as  valu- 
able. When  we  approach  a  man,  who  is,  as 
we  fay,  at  his  eafe,  we  are  prefented  with  the 
pleafing  ideas  of  plenty,  fatisfadlion,  cleanlinefs, 
warmth  j  a  chearful  houfe,  elegant  furniture,  ready 
fervice,  and  whatever  is  defirable  in  meat,  drink, 
or  apparel.  On  the  contrary,  when  a  poor  man 
appears,  the  difagreeable  images  of  want,  penu- 
ry, hard  labour,  dirty  furniture,  coarfe  or  ragged 
cloarhs,  naufeous  meat  and  diftafteful  liquor,  im- 
mediately ftrike  our  fancy.  What  elfe  do  we  mean 
by  faying  that  one  is  rich,  the  other  poor  ?  And 
as  regard  or  contempt  is  the  natural  confequence 
of  thofe  different  fituations  in  life;  it  is  ealily  {ten 
what  additional  light  and  evidence  this  throws  on 
our  preceding  theory,  with  regard  to  all  moral 
diftintlions*. 

A  man,  who  has  cured  himfelf  of  all  ridiculous 
prepofleffions,  and  is  fully,  fincerely,  and  fteadily 
convinced,  from  experience  as  well  as  philofophy, 
that  the  difference  of  fortune  makes  lefs  difference 
in  happinefs  than  is  vulgarly  imagined ;  fuch  a  one 
does  not  meafure  out  deerrees  of  efteem  accordino- 
to  the  rent  rolls  of  his  acquaintance.  He  may,  in- 
deed, externally  pay  a  fuperior  deference  to  the 
great  lord  above  the  vaffai ;  becaufe  riches  are  the 
moft  convenient,  being  the  mod  fixed  and  deter- 
minate, fource  of  diflindion  :  But  his  internal  {en- 
timents  are  more  regulated  by  the  perfonal  charac- 
ters of  men,  than  by  the  accidental  and  capricious 
favours  of  fortune. 

In  moft  countries  of  Europe,  family,  that  is,  he- 
reditary riciies,  marked  with  titles  and  fymbolsfrom 
the  fovereign,  is  the  chief  fource  of  diilintlion.  In 
England,  more  regard  is  paid  to  prefent  opulence 
and  plenty.     Each  praftice  has  its  advantages  and 

difadvantagcs. 
♦  See    NOTE    [II]. 


of  Qualities  Useful  to  Ourselves.     297 

difad vantages.  Where  birth  is  refpected,  unactive, 
fpiritlefs  minds  rennain  in  haughty  indolence,  and 
dream  of  nothing  but  pedigrees  and  genealogies: 
The  generous  and  ambitious  feek  honour  ind  autho- 
rity and  reputation  and  favour.  Where  riches  are  the 
chief  idol,  corruption,  vendity,  ripine  prevail : 
Arts,  manufactures,  comm..rce,  agriculture  flou- 
rifh.  The  former  prejudice,  being  favourable  to 
military  virtue,  is  more  fuited  to  monarchies.  The 
latter,  being  the  chief  fpur  to  induftry,  agrees  bet- 
ter with  a  republican  government.  And  vve  accord- 
ingly find,  that  t'^ch  of  thei  forms  of  government, 
by  varying  the  uiiiify  of  thofe  culloms,  has  com- 
monly a  proportionable  effect  on  the  fentiments  of 
mankind. 


SECTION 


(     299    ) 


SECTION     VIL 


Of  QUjVLITIES  IMMEDIATELY  AGREEABLE  tO 

OURSELVES. 

VV  HOEVER  has  pafTed  an  evening  with  ferl- 
ous  melancholy  people,  and  has  obferved  how 
fuddenly  the  converfation  was  animated,  and 
what  fprightlinefs  diffufed  itfelf  over  the  coun- 
tenance, difcourfe,  and  behaviour  of  every  one, 
on  the  acceflion  of  a  good-humoured,  lively 
companion ;  fuch  a  one  will  eafily  allow,  that 
Chearfulnefs  carries  great  merit  with  it,  and  na- 
turally conciliates  the  good-will  of  mankind.  No 
quality,  indeed,  more  readily  communicates  it- 
felf to  all  around;  becaufe  no  one  has  a  great- 
er propenfity  to  difplay  itfelf,  in  jovial  talk  and 
pleafant  entertainment.  The  flame  fpreads  through 
the  whole  circle  -,  and  the  moft  fullen  and  mo- 
rofe  are  often  caught  by  it.  That  the  melan- 
choly hate  the  merry,  even  though  Horace  fays 
it,  I  have  fome  difficulty  to  allow ;  becaufe  I  have 
always  obferved,  that,  where  the  jollity  is  mode- 
rate and  decent,  ferious  people  are  fo  much  the 
more  delighted,  as  it  diffipates  the  gloom,  with 
which  they  are  commonly  opprefled :  and  gives 
them   an  unufual   enjoyment. 

From  this  influence  of  chearfulnefs,  both  to 
communicate  itfelf,  and  to  engage  approbation, 
we  may  perceive,  that  there  is  another  fet  of 
mental   qualities,    Mhich,    without   any  utility  or 

any 


^oo  SECTION     VII. 

any  tendency  to  farther  good,  either  of  the  com- 
munity or  of  the  polTefTor,  difFufe  a  fatisfa6tion 
on  the  beholders,  and  procure  friendfhip  and  re- 
gard. Their  imnnediate  fenfation,  to  the  perfon 
pofTefled  of  them,  is  agreeable  :  Others  enter  in- 
to the  fame  humour,  and  catch  the  fentiment, 
by  a  contagion  or  natural  fympathy :  And  as  wc 
cannot  forbear  loving  whatever  pleafes,  a  kindly 
emotion  arifes  towards  the  perfon,  who  commu- 
nicates fo  much  fatisfadlion.  He  is  a  more  ani- 
mating fpeftacle :  His  prefence  difFufes  over  us 
more  ferene  complacency  and  enjoyment :  Our 
imagination,  entering  into  his  feelings  and  difpo- 
fition,  is  affeded  in  a  more  agreeable  manner, 
than  if  a  melancholy,  dejeded,  fullen,  anxious 
temper  were  prefented  to  us.  Hence  the  affec- 
tion and  approbation,  which  attend  the  former; 
The  averfion  and  difguft,  with  which  we  regard 
the  latter  *. 

Few  men  would  envy  the  character,  which  Cas- 
far  gives  of  CafTius, 

He  loves  no  play. 
As  thou  do'ft,  Anthony:  He  hears  nomufic: 
Seldom  he  fmiles  -,  and  fmiles  in  fuch  a  fort. 
As  if  he  mock'd  himfelf,  and  fcorn'd  his  fpirit 
That  could  be  mov'd  to  fmile  at  any  thing. 

Not  only  fuch  men,  as  Csefar  adds,  are  common- 
ly dangerous,  but  alfo,  having  little  enjoyment 
within  themfelves,  they  can  never  become  agree- 
able to  others,  or  contribute  to  focial  entertain- 
ment. In  all  polite  nations  and  ages,  a  relifh 
for  pleafure,  if  accompanied  with  temperance  and 
decency,  is  efteemed  a  confiderable  merit,  even 
in  the  greateft  men  -,  and  becomes  ftill  more  re- 
quifite  in  thofe  of  inferior  rank  and  character. 
It   is  an  agreeable  reprefentation,  which  a  French 

writer 

•  See  NOTE  [KK]. 


0/Qu  AL 1  Ti  ES  immediately  agreeable  to  Our/elves,  30 1 

■writer  gives  of  the  fituation  of  his  own  mind  in 
this  particular,  Firtue,  I  love^  fays  he,  without 
aujlerity :  Pleajure^  without  effeminacy :  And  life, 
without  fearing  its  end  *. 

Who  is  not  ftruck  with  any  fignal  inftance  of 
Greatnefs  of  Mind  or  Dignity  of  Charadler;  with 
elevation  of  fentimcnt,  difdain  of  flavery,  and  with 
that  noble  pride  and  fpirit,  which  arifes  from 
confcious  virtue  ?  The  fublime,  fays  Longinus,  is 
often  nothing  but  the  echo  or  image  of  magnani- 
mity i  and  where  this  quality  appears  in  any  one, 
even  though  a  fyllable  be  not  uttered,  it  excites 
our  applaufe  and  admiration  ;  as  may  be  obferv- 
ed  of  the  famous  filence  of  Ajax  in  the  Odyfley, 
which  exprefles  more  noble  difdain  and  refolute 
indignation,  than  any  language  can  convey  f. 

Were  I  Alexander,  faid  Parmenio,  /  would  ac- 
cept of  thefe  offers  made  by  Darius.  So  would  I  too, 
replied  Alexander,  were  I  Parmenio,  This  faying 
is   admirable,  fays  Longinus,    from  a  like  princi- 

Go !  cries  the  fame  hero  to  his  foldiers,  when 
they  refufed  to  follow  him  to  the  Indies,  go  tell 
your  countrymen,  that  you  left  Alexander  compleating 
the  conquefl  of  the  world.  "  Alexander,'*  faid  the 
Prince  of  Conde,  who  always  admired  this  paf- 
fage,  "  abandoned  by  his  foldiers,  among  Barba- 
"  rians,  not  yet  fully  fubdued,  felt  in  himfelf  fuch 
"  a  dignity  and  right  of  empire,  that  he  could  not 
"  believe  it  pofiible,  that  any  one  would  refufe  to 
"  obey  him.  Wheiher  in  Europe  or  in  Afia,  a- 
"  mong  Greeks  or  Perfians,  all  was  indifferent  to 
"  him  :  Wherever  he  found  men,  he  fancied  he 
«'  ihould  find  fubjeds." 

The 

•  *'  J*aime  la  vertu,  fansrudefTe; 
"   J'ainie  le  plaifir,  fans  mole/Te; 
*'  J 'dime  la  vie,  &  n'en  crains  point  la  fin." 

St.    EVREMOND. 

t  Cap.  9,  X  Idem. 


302  SECTION    VIL 

The  confident  of  Medea  in  the  tragedy  recom- 
mends caution  and  fubmillion ;  and  enumerating 
all  the  diflrefles  of  that  unfortunate  heroine,  afks 
her,  what  fhe  has  to  fupport  her  againft  her  nu- 
merous and  implacable  enemies.  My/elf^  replies 
fhe;  My/elf,  IJay^  and  it  is  enough.  Boileaujuft- 
ly  recommends  this  palTage  as  an  inftance  of  true 
^ublime  *. 

When  Phocion,  the  modeft,  the  gentle  Phocion, 
was  led  to  execution,  he  turned  to  one  of  his  fel- 
low-fufferers,  who  was  lamenting  his  own  h  ad 
fate.  Is  it  not  glory  enough  for  yoUy  fays  he,  that 
you  die  with  Phocion  f  ? 

Place  in  oppofition  the  picture,  which  Tacitus 
draws  of  Vitellius,  fallen  from  empire,  prolong- 
ing his  ignominy  from  a  wretched  love  of  life, 
delivered  over  to  the  mercilefs  rabble  j  tofled, 
buffeted,  and  kicked  about ;  conftrained,  by  their 
holding  a  poniard  under  his  chin,  to  raife  his  head, 
and  expofe  himfelf  to  every  contumely.  What 
abjcdt  infamy!  What  low  humiliation!  Yet  even 
here,  fays  the  hiftorian,  he  difcovered  feme  fymp- 
toms  of  a  mind  not  wholly  degenerate.  To  a  tri- 
bune, who  infulted  him,  he  replied,  I  am  Jiill your 
emperor  X. 

We  never  excufe  the  abfolute  want  of  fpirit  and 
dignity  of  chara6ler,  or  a  proper  fenfe  of  what  is 
due  to  one's  felf,  in  fociety  and  the  common  inrer- 
courfe  of  life.  This  vice  conftitutes  what  we  pro- 
perly call  meannejs\  when  a  man  can  fubmit  to  the 
bafefl  flavery,  in  order  to  gain  his  ends  ;  fawn  up- 
on thofe  who  abufe  him  \  and  degrade  himfelf  by 
intimacies  and  familiarities  with  undeferving  infe- 
riors. A  certain  degree  of  generous  pride  or  felf- 
value  is  fo  requifite,  that  the  abfcnce  of  it  in  the 
mind  difpleafes,    after   the    fame    manner    as    the 

want 

*  Refleftion  lofurLongin.  f  Plutarch  in  Phoc. 

X  Sec  NOTE  [LL] 


«f 


0/ Qualities  immediately  agreeable  to  Our/elves.  30J 

want  of  a  nofe,  eye,  or  any  of  the  mod  material 
feature  of  the  face  or  member  of  the  body*. 

The  utility  of  Courage,  both  to  the  public  and 
to  the  perfon  pofTelTed  of  it,  is  an  obvious  foun- 
dation of  merit :  But  to  any  one  who  duly  confi- 
ders  of  the  matter,  it  will  appear,  that  this  qua- 
lity has  a  peculiar  lufte,  which  it  derives  wholly 
from  irfelf,  and  from  that  noble  elevation  infepa- 
rable  from  it.  Its  figure,  drawn  by  painters  and 
by  poets,  difplays,  in  each  feature,  a  fublimity 
and  daring  confidence ;  which  catches  the  eye, 
engages  the  affe<5lions,  and  difiufes,  by  fympa- 
thy,  a  like  fublimity  of  fentiment  over  every  fpec- 
tator. 

Under  what  fhining  colours  does  Demofthenesf 
reprefent  Philip ;  where  the  orator  apologizes  for 
his  own  adminiltration,  and  juftifies  that  pertina- 
cious love  of  liberty,  with  which  he  had  infpired 
the  Athenians.  "  1  beheld  Philip,'*  fays  he,  "  he 
with  whom  was  your  contefl:,  refolutely,  while 
in  purfuit  of  empire  and  dominion,  expofing 
himlelf  to  every  wound  ;  his  eye  goared,  his 
neck  wrefted,  his  arm,  his  thigh  pierced,  what- 
ever part  of  his  body  fortune  fhould  feize  on,  that 
cheerfully  relinquifliing;  provided  that,  with 
what  remained,  he  might  live  in  honour  and 
renown.  And  fliall  it  be  faid,  that  he,  born 
in  Pella,  a  place  heretofore  mean  and  ignoble, 
fhould  be  infpired  with  fo  high  an  ambition 
and  third  of  fame :  While  you,  Athenians, 
(iff."  Thefc  praifes  excite  the  moft  lively  ad- 
miration ;  but  the  views  prefented  by  the  ora- 
tor, carry  us  not,  we  fee,  beyond  the  hero  him- 
felf,  nor  ever  regard  the  future  advantageous  con- 
fequences   of  his  valour. 

The  martial  temper  of  the  Romans,  inflamed 
hv    continual    wars,     had   raifed    their   efleem    of 


•  See  NOTE  [MM], 
f  Pro  corona. 


;504         SECTION      VII. 

courage  fo  high,  that,  in  thtir  language,  it  was 
called  virfuej  by  way  of  excellence  and  of  dif- 
tindlion  from  all  other  moral  qualities.  The  Suevi, 
in  the  opinion  of  Tacitus  f,  drejfed  their  hair  wiih  a 
laudable  intent:  Not  for  the  purpoje  of  loving 
or  being  loved:  They  adorned  themf elves  only  for 
their  enemies^  and  in  order  to  appear  more  terri- 
ble. A  fentiment  of  the  hiftorian,  which  would 
found  a  little  oddly  in  other  nations  and  other 
ages. 

The  Scythians,  according  to  Herodotus  J,  after 
fcalping  their  enemies,  drefled  their  fkin  like  lea- 
ther, and  ufed  it  as  a  towel ;  and  whoever  had 
the  moft  of  thofe  towels  was  moft  efteemed  among 
them.  So  much  had  martial  bravery,  in  that  na- 
tion, as  well  as  in  many  others,  deflroyed  the  fen- 
timents  of  humanity  j  a  virtue  furely  much  more 
ufeful  and  engaging. 

It  is  indeed  obfervable,  that,  among  all  un- 
cultivated nations,  who  have  not,  as  yet,  had  full 
experience  of  the  advantages  attending  benefi- 
cence, juftice,  and  the  fecial  virtues,  courage  is 
the  predominant  excellence;  what  is  moft  cele- 
brated by  poets,  recommended  by  parents  and 
inftrudtors,  and  admired  by  the  public  in  gene- 
ral. The  ethics  of  Homer  are,  in  this  particular, 
very  different  from  thofe  of  Fenelon,  his  elegant 
imitator  J  and  fuch  as  were  well  fuited  to  an  age, 
when  one  hero,  as  remarked  by  Thucydides  ||, 
could  afk  another,  without  offence,  whether  he 
were  a  robber  or  not.  Such  alfo,  very  lately,  was 
the  fyftem  of  ethics,  which  prevailed  in  many 
barbarous  parts  of  Ireland  ;  if  we  may  credit  Spen- 
cer, in  his  judicious  account  of  the  ftatc  of  that 
kingdom  §. 

Of 

f  De  moribus  Germ.  %   Lib.  iv.  [(  Lib.  i. 

§  It  is  a  common  ufe,  fays  he,  amongft  their  gentlemen's  fons, 

thut. 


0/ Qualities  immediately  agreeable  to  Ourfehes.  305 

Of  the  fame  clafs  of  virtues  with  cpurage  is 
that  undiftiirbed  philofophical  Tranquillity,  fu- 
perior  to  pain,  forrow,  anxiety,  and  each  aflault 
of  adverfe  fortune.  Confcious  of  his  own  virtue, 
fay  the  philofophers,  the  fage  elevates  himfelf 
above  every  accident  of  life;  and  fecurely  placed 
in  the  temple  of  wifdom,  looks  down  on  infe- 
rior mortals,  engaged  in  purfuit  of  honours,  riches, 
reputation,  and  every  frivolous  enjoyment.  Thefe 
pretenfions,  no  doubt,  when  ftretched  to  the  ut- 
moft,  are,  by  far,  too  magnificent  for  human  na- 
ture. They  carry,  however,  a  grandeur  with 
them,  which  feizes  the  fpeftator,  and  ftrikes  him 
with  admiration.  And  the  nearer  we  can  ap- 
proach in  practice,  to  this  fublime  tranquillity 
and  indifference  (for  we  muft  diftinguifh  it  from 
a  ftupid  infenfibility)  the  more  fecure  enjoy- 
ment fliall  we  attain  within  ourfelves,  and  the 
iTJore  greatnefs  of  mind  fliall  we  difcover  to  the 
world.  The  philofophical  tranquillity  may,  in- 
deed, be  confidered  only  as  a  branch  of  magna- 
nimity. 

Vvlio  admires  not  Socrates;  his  perpetual  fe- 
renity  and  contentment,  amidfl  the  greateft  po- 
verty and  domeftic  vexations ;  his  refolute  con- 
tempt of  riches,  and  his  magnanimous  care  of 
preferving  liberty,  while  he  refufed  all  afliftance 
from  his  friends  and  difciples,  and  avoided  even 
the  dependence  of  an  obligation  ?  Epifletus  had 
not  fo  much  as  a  door  to  his  little  houfe  or  ho- 
vel ;  and  therefore,  foon  loft  his  iron  lamp,  the 
only  furniture  which  he   had  worth  taking.     But 

Vol.  II.  X  refolving 

that,  as  foon  as  they  are  able  to  ufe  their  weapons,  they  ftrait  ga- 
ther to  themfelves  three  or  four  ftraggles  or  kern,  with  whom 
wandering  a  while  up  and  down  idly  the  country,  taking  only 
meat,  he  at  lall  falleih  into  fome  bad  occafion,  that  Ihail  be 
ofTered  ;  which  being  cnce  made  known,  he  is  thenceforth  count- 
ed a  man  of  worth,  in  whom  there  is  courage. 


jo6  SECTION      VII. 

refolving  to  difappoint  all  robbers  for  the  future^; 
he  fuppiied  its  place  with  an  earthen  lamp,  of 
which  he  very  peaceably  kept  pofTefilon  ever 
after. 

Among  the  ancients,  the  heroes  in  philofophy^ 
as  well  as  thofe  in  war  and  patriotifm,  have  a 
grandeur  and  force  of  fentiment,  which  aflonifhes 
Gur  narrow  fouls,  and  is  raflily  rejected  as  extra- 
vagant and  fupernarural.  They,  in  their  turn,  I 
allow,  would  have  had  equal  reafon  to  confider 
as  romantic  and  incredible,  the  degree  of  huma- 
nity, clemency,  order,  tranquillity,  and  other  fo- 
cial  virtues,  to  which,  in  the  adminiftration  of 
government,  we  have  attained  in  modern  times, 
had  any  been  then  able  to  have  made  a  fair  re- 
prefentation  of  them.  Such  is  the  compenfa- 
tion,  which  nature,  or  rather  education,  has 
made  in  the  diftribution  of  excellencies  and  vir- 
tues, in  thofe  different  ages. 

The  merit  of  Benevolence,  arifing  from  its 
utility,  and  its  tendency  to  promote  the  good 
of  mankind,  has  been  already  explained,  and  is, 
no  doubt,  the  fource  of  a  confiderable  part  of  that 
efteem,  which  is  fo  univerfally  paid  to  it.  But 
it  will  alfo  be  allowed,  that  the  verv  ioftnefs  and 
tendernefs  of  the  fentiment,  its  engaging  endear- 
ments, its  fond  exprelfions,  its  delicate  attenti- 
ons, and  all  that  flow  of  mutual  confidence  and 
regard,  which  enters  into  a  warm  attachment  of 
love  and  friendfhip :  It  will  be  allowed,  I  fay, 
that  thefe  feelings,  being  delightful  in  themfelves, 
are  neceffarily  communicated  to  the  fpeftators, 
and  melt  them  into  the  fame  fondncfs  and  de- 
licacy. The  tear  naturally  ftarts  in  our  eye  on 
the  apprehenfion  of  a  warm  fentiment  of  this  na- 
ture :  Our  breall  heaves,  our  heart  is  agitated,  and 
every  humane  tender  principle  of  our  frame  is  fee 
in  motion,  and  gives  us  the  pureft  and  moll:  fa- 
risfadory  enjoyment. 

When 


0/ Qualities  immediately  agreeable  to  Our/elves.  307 

When  poets  form  defcriptions  of  Elyfian  fields, 
where  the  blefled  inhabitants  ftand  in  no  need 
of  each  other's  affiftance,  they  yet  reprefent  them 
as  maintaininc^  a  conflant  intercourfe  of  love 
and  friendfhip,  and  footh  our  fancy  with  the 
pleafing  image  of  thefe  foft  and  gentle  paflions. 
The  idea  of  tender  tranquillity  in  a  paftoral 
Arcadia  is  agreeable  fiom  a  like  principle,  as  has 
been  obferved  above  *. 

Who  would  live  amidfl:  perpetual  wrangling, 
and  fcolding,  and  mutual  reproaches  ?  The 
roughnefs  and  harfhnefs  of  thefe  emotions  dif- 
turb  and  difpleafe  us ;  We  fuffer  by  contagion 
and  fympathy  j  nor  can  we  remain  indifferent 
fpedtators,  even  though  certain,  that  no  pernici- 
ous confequences  would  ever  follow  from  fuch 
angry  paflions. 

As  a  certain  proof,  that  the  whole  merit  of  be- 
nevolence is  not  derived  from  its  ufefulnefs,  we 
may  obferve,  that,  in  a  kind  way  of  blame,  we 
fay,  a  perfon  is  too  good;  when  he  exceeds  his 
part  in  fociety,  and  carries  his  attention  for  o- 
thers  beyond  the  propor  bounds.  In  like  man- 
ner, we  fay  a  man  is  too  higb-fpiritedy  too  intrepid, 
too  indifferent  about  fortune :  Reproaches,  whicli 
really,  at  bottom,  imply  more  efteem  than  many 
panegyrics.  Being  accuftomed  to  rate  the  merit 
and  demerit  of  characters  chiefly  by  their  ufeful 
or  pernicious  tendencies,  we  cannot  forbear  ap- 
plying the  epithet  of  blame,  when  we  difcover  a 
fentiment,  which  rifes  to  a  degree,  that  is  hurtful : 
But  it  may  happen,  at  the  fame  time,  that  its  no- 
ble elevation,  or  its  engaging  tendcrnefs  fo  feizes 
the  heart,  as  rather  to  encreafe  our  friendfliip 
and  concern  for  the   perfon  f . 

X  2  The 

*  Sea.  V.  Part  2. 

t  Cheerfulnefs  could  fcarce  admit  of  blame  from  its  excefs, 

were 


jo8        SECTION     VII. 

The  amours  and  ..  attachments  of  Harry  the 
IVth  of  France,  during  the  civil  wars  of  the 
league,  frequently  hurt  his  interell  and  his  caufej 
but  all  the  young,  at  leall,  and  amorous,  who 
can  fympathize  with  the  tender  paflions,  will  al- 
low, that  this  very  weaknefs  (for  they  will  rea- 
dily call  it  fuch)  chiefly  endears  that  hero,  and 
interefts  them  in  his   fortunes. 

The  excefiive  bravery  and  refolute  inflexibili- 
ty of  Charles  the  Xllth  ruined  his  own  coun- 
try, and  infefted  all  his  neighbours;  but  have 
fuch  fplendour  and  greatnefs  in  their  appear- 
ance, as  ftrike  us  with  admiration  j  and  they 
might,  in  fome  degree,  be  even  approved  of, 
if  they  betrayed  not  fometimes  too  evident  fymp- 
toms  of  madnefs  and  diforder. 

The  Athenians  pretended  to  the  firft  inventi- 
on of  agriculture  and  of  laws ;  and  always  va- 
lued themfelves  extremely  on  the  benefit  there- 
by procured  to  the  whole  race  of  mankind. 
They  alfo  boafl:ed,  and  with  reafon,  of  their  war- 
like enterprizes;  particularly  againfl:  thofe  innu- 
merable fleets  and  armies  of  Perfians,  which 
invaded  Greece  during  the  reigns  of  Darius  and 
Xerxes.  But  though  there  be  no  comparifon, 
in  point  of  utility,  between  thefe  peaceful  and 
military  honours  j  yet  we  find,  that  the  orators, 
who  have  writ  fuch  elaborate  panegyrics  on 
that  famous  city,  have  chiefly  triumphed  in  dif- 
playing  the  warlike  atchievements.  Lyfias,  Thu- 
cydides,  Plato,  and  Ifocrates  difcover,  all  of  them, 
the  fame  partiality  -,  which,  though  condemned 
by  calm  reafon  and  refledion,  appears  fo  natu- 
ral  in  the   mind  of  man. 

It 


were  It  not  that  difToIute  mirtli,  without  a  proper  caufe  or 
fuhjetfl:,  is  a  fiire  fymptom  and  chnrafleriftic  ot  folJy,  and  on 
that  account  difguftful. 


O/QiTALiTiES  immediately  agreeable  to  Qurfehes.  309 

It  is  obfervable,  that  the  great  charm  of  poe- 
try confifts  in  lively  pidiires  of  the  fiiblime  paf- 
fions,  magnanimity,  courage,  difdain  of  fortune; 
or  tjiofe  of  the  tender  affecl:ions,  love  and  friend- 
ship; which  warm  the  heart,  and  difFufe  over  it 
fimilar  fentiments  and  emotions.  And  though 
all  kinds  of  paflion,  even  the  moft  difagreeable, 
fuch  as  grief  and  anger,  are  obferved,  when  ex- 
cited by  poetry,  to  convey  a  fatisfaftion,  from 
a  mechanifm  of  nature,  not  eafy  to  be  explain- 
ed: Yet  thofe  more  elevated  or  fofter  affedions 
have  a  peculiar  influence,  and  pleafe  from  more 
than  one  caufe  or  principle.  Not  to  mention, 
that  they  alone  intereft  us  in  the  fortune  of  the 
perfons  reprefented,  or  communicate  any  efleem 
and  afFeeftion  for  their  character. 

And  can  it  pollibly  be  doubted,  that  this  ta- 
lent itfelf  of  poets,  to  move  the  pafTions,  this 
Pathetic  and  Sublime  of  fentiment,  is  a  very  con- 
fidcrable  merit ;  and  being  enhanced  by  its  ex- 
treme rarity,  may  exalt  the  perfon  poflelTed  of 
it,  above  every  character  of  the  age  in  which  he 
lives  ?  The  prudence,  addrefs,  fleadinefs,  and 
benign  government  of  Auguftus,  adorned  with  all 
the  fplendour  of  his  noble  birth  and  imperial 
crown,  render  him  but  an  unequal  competitor 
for  fame  with  Virgil,  who  lays  nothing  into  the 
oppofite  fcale  but  the  divine  beauties  of  his  poe- 
tical  genius. 

The  very  fenfibility  to  thefe  beauties,  or  a  De- 
licacy of  tafte,  is  itfelf  a  beauty  in  any  charafler; 
as  conveying  the  pureft,  the  moft  durable,  and 
moft   innocent   of  all  enjoyments. 

Thefe  are  fome  inftances  of  the  fcveral  fpecies 
of  merit,  that  are  valued  for  the  immediate  plea- 
fure,  which  they  communicate  to  the  perfon  pof- 
fefted  of  them.  No  views  of  utility  or  of  fu- 
ture beneficial  confequcnces  enter  into  this  fenti- 
ment. 


JIO 


SECTION     vir. 


ment  of  approbation;  yet  is  it  of  a  kind  fimi- 
lar  to  that  other  fentiment,  which  arifes  from 
views  of  a  public  or  private  utility.  The  fame 
focial  fympathy,  we  may  obferve,  or  fellow-feel- 
ing with  human  happinefs  or  mifery,  gives  rife 
to  both ;  and  this  analogy,  in  all  the  parts  of 
the  prefent  theory,  may  juftly  be  regarded  as  a 
confirmation  of  it. 


SECT- 


[    311     ] 


SECTION     VIII. 


Of   Qualities    immediately    agreeable 
to  Others*. 


A 


S  the  mutual  fhocks,  \n  fociety,  and  the  op- 
pofitions  of  intereft  and  felf-love  have  conftrain- 
ed  mankind  to  eftablifh  the  laws  o( jujlice  y  in  or- 
der to  preferve  the  advantages  of  mutual  afTiftance 
and  protection  ;  In  like  manner,  the  eternal  con- 
trarieties, in  compmiy^  of  men's  pride  and  felf- 
conceit,  have  introduced  the  rules  of  Good-Man- 
ners or  Politenefs;  in  order  to  facilitate  the  inter- 
courfe  of  minds  and  an  undifturbed  commerce  and 
converfation.  Among  well-bred  people,  a  mutual 
deference  is  affected :  Contempt  of  others  difguif- 
ed  :  Authority  concealed  :  Attention  given  to  each 
in  his  turn  :  And  an  eafy  dream  of  converfation 
maintained,  without  vehemence,  without  interrup- 
tion, without  eagernefs  for  viftory,  and  without 
any  airs  of  fuperiority.  Thefe  attentions  and  re- 
gards are  immediately  agreeable  to  others,  abilract- 

ed 

*  It  is  the  nature,  and,  indeed,  the  definition  of  virtue,  that 
It  IS  ^  quality  of  the  mind  agreeable  to  or  approved  of  by  enjery  one, 
avho  conjiders  or  contetfiplates  it.  But  feme  qunlitie.  ^jroduce 
pleafure,  becaufe  they  :.re  ufeful  to  fociety,  or  ufeful  or  agree- 
able to  the  perfon  himieir ;  other';  produce  it  more  imn-.ediateiy: 
Which  is  the  cafe  with  the  clafs  of  virtues  here  confidered. 


312         SECTION      VIII. 

ed  from  any  confideration  of  utility  or  beneficial 
tenilcncies  :  They  conciliate  affedtion,  promote 
eRccm,  and  extremely  enhance  the  merit  of  the 
perfon,   who  regulates  his  behaviour  by  them. 

Many  of  the  forms  of  breeding  are  arbitrary  and 
cafual  ;  But  the  thing  expreiTed  by  them  is  ftill  the 
fame.  A  Spaniard  goes  out  of  his  own  houfe  before 
his  gueft,  to  fignify  that  he  leaves  him  mailer  of 
all.  In  other  countries,  the  landlord  walks  out 
laft,  as  a  common  mark  of  deference  and  re- 
gard. 

But,  in  order  to  render  a  man  perfed:  good  com- 
pany, he  muft  have  Wit  and  Ingenuity  as  well  as 
good-manners.  What  wit  is,  it  may  not  be  eafy  to 
define  ;  but  it  is  eafy  fiirely  to  determine,  that  it 
is  a  quality  immediately  agreeable  to  others,  and 
communicating,  on  its  firll  appearance,  a  lively 
joy  and  fatisfaftion  to  every  one  who  has  any 
comprehenfion  of  it.  The  moft  profound  meta- 
phyfics,  indeed,  might  be  employed,  in  explaining 
the  various  kinds  and  fpecies  of  wit ;  and  many 
clafics  of  it,  which  are  now  received  on  the  fole 
teitimony  of  tafte  and  fentiment,  might,  perhaps, 
be  refolved  into  more  general  principles.  But  this 
is  fufficient  for  our  prefent  purpofe,  that  it  does 
affett  tafte  and  fentiment,  and  bellowing  an  im.- 
mediate  enjoyment,  is  a  lure  fource  of  approbati- 
on and  affedion. 

In  countries,  where  men  pafs  moll  of  their 
time  in  converfation,  and  vifus,  and  aflcmblies, 
thefe  companionable  qualities,  fo  to  ipeak,  are  of 
high  ellimation,  and  form  a  chief  part  of  per- 
fonal  merit.  In  countries,  where  men  live  a 
more  domeftic  life,  and  either  are  employed  in 
bufinefe,  or  amufe  themfelves  in  a  narrower  cir- 
cle of  acqMaintance,  the  more  folid  qualities  are 
chiefly  regarded.  Thus,  I  have  often  obfcrved, 
that,  among  the  French,  the  firfb  queftions,  with 
regard  to  a  itranger,  are.  Is  he  polite  '^  Has  he  ■tcvV  ? 

In 


0/Qu  A L I T I E s  mmediateiy  agreeable  to  Others .  313 

In  our  own  country,  the  chief  praife  beftowcd,  is 
always  that  of  a  good-naturedy  Jenfihle fellow , 

In  converlation,  the  lively  fpirit  of  dialogue  is 
agreeabUy  even  to  thofe  who  defire  not  to  have  any 
fhare  in  the  difcoiirfe :  Hence  the  teller  of  long 
ftories,  or  the  pompous  declaimer,  is  very  little 
approved  of  But  mod  men  defire  likewife  their 
turn  in  the  converfarion,  and  regard,  with  a  very 
evil  eye,  that  loquacity^  which  deprives  them  of 
a  right  they  are  naturally  fo  jealous  of. 

There  is  a  fort  of  harmlefs  liarsy  frequently 
to  be  met  with  in  company,  who  deal  much 
in  the  marvellous.  Their  ufual  intention  is  to 
pleafe  and  entertain  ;  but  as  men  are  moft  delight- 
ed with  what  they  conceive  to  be  truth,  thefe 
people  miflake  extremely  the  means  of  pleafing, 
and  incur  univerfal  blame.  Some  indulgence,  how- 
ever, to  lying  or  fidlion  is  given  in  humorous  ftories, 
becaufe  it  is  there  really  agreeable  and  entertaining; 
and  truth  is  not  of  any  importance. 

Eloquence,  genius  of  all  kinds,  even  good  fenfe, 
and  found  reafoning,  when  it  rifes  to  an  eminent 
degree,  and  is  employed  upon  fubjects  of  any 
confiderable  dignity  and  nice  difcernment  j  all 
thefe  endov/ments  feem  immediately  agreeable, 
and  have  a  merit  diftin6l  from  their  ufefulnefs. 
Rarity,  likewife,  which  fo  much  enhances  the  price 
of  every  thing,  muft  fet  an  additional  value  on 
thefe  noble  talents  of  the  human  mind. 

Modefty  may  be  underftood  in  different  fenfes, 
even  abftrafbed  from  challity,  which  has  been  al- 
ready treated  of.  It  fometimes  means  that  tender- 
nefs  and  nicety  of  honour,  that  apprehenfions  of 
blame,  that  dread  of  intrufion  or  injury  towards 
others,  that  Pudor,  which  is  the  proper  guardian 
of  every  kind  of  virtue,  and  a  fure  prefervative 
againft  vice  and  corruption.  But  its  moft  ufual 
meaning  is  when  it  is  oppofed  to  impudence  and 
arrogance^   and  exprefles  a  diffidence  of  our  own 

judgment. 


314  SECTION      VIII. 

ludgment,  and  a  due  attention  and  regard  for 
oihers.  In  young  men  chiefly,  this  quality  is  a 
fure  fign  of  good  fenfe  ;  and  is  alfo  the  certain 
means  of  augmenting  that  endowment,  by  preferv- 
ing  th?ir  ears  open  to  inftrjclion,  and  making 
them  ftili  grafp  after  new  attainments.  But  it  has 
a  farther  charm  to  every  fpedator ;  by  flattering 
every  man's  vanity,  and  prefenting  the  appear- 
ance of  a  docile  pupil,  who  receives,  with  proper 
attention  and  refpedb,  every  word  they  utter. 

Men  have,  in  general,  a  much  greater  propen- 
fity  to  over-value  than  undervalue  themfelves ; 
notwithftanding  the  opinion  of  Ariftotle  *.  This 
makes  us  more  jealous  of  the  excefs  on  the  former 
fide,  and  caufes  us  to  regard,  with  a  peculiar  in- 
dulgence, all  tendency  to  modefty  and  feif-diffi- 
dence;  as  eiteeming  the  danger  lefs  of  falling  into 
any  vicious  extreme  of  that  nature.  It  is  thus,  in 
countries,  where  men's  bodies  are  apt  to  exceed 
in  corpulency,  perfonal  beauty  is  placed  in  a  much 
greater  degree  of  flendernefs,  than  in  countries, 
where  that  is  the  moll  ufual  dcfecfl.  Being  fo  of- 
ten ftruck  with  iniiances  of  one  fpecies  of  defor- 
mity, men  thinly  they  can  never  keep  at  too  great 
a  diftance  from  it,  and  wiili  always  to  have  a  lean- 
ing to  the  oppoUte  fide.  In  like  manner,  were  the 
door  opened  to  felf  praife,  and  were  Montaigne's 
maxim  obferved,  that  one  fhould  fay  as  frankly, 
I  have  fenfe y  I  have  learnings  I  have  courage,  beauty y 
or  wit;  as  it  is  fure  we  often  think  fo ;  were  this 
the  cafe,  I  fay,  every  one  is  fenfible,  that  fuch  a 
flood  of  impertinence  would  break  in  upon  us, 
as  would  render  fociety  wholly  intolerable.  For 
his  reafon  cullom  has  eflablifhed  it  as  a  rule,  in 
common  focieties,  that  men  lliould  not  indulge 
themfelves  in  felf-praife,  or  even  fpeak  much  of 
themfelves  j  and  it  is  only  among  intimate  friends  or 

people 
*  Ethic,  ad  Nicomachum. 

3 


Of  Qualities  immediately  agreeable  to  Others.  315 

people  of  very  manly  behaviour,  that  one  is  al- 
lowed to  do  himfelf  juftice.  No  body  finds  fault 
with  Maurice,  Prince  of  Orange,  for  his  reply  to 
one,  who  aiked  him,  whom  he  efteemed  the  firft 
general  of  the  age,  'The  marquis  <7/Spinola,  faid  he, 
is  the  Jecond,  Though  it  is  obfervable,  that  the 
felf-praile  implied  is  here  better  implied,  than  if  it 
had  been  diredly  exprefled,  without  any  cover  or 
difguife. 

He  muft  be  a  very  fuperficial  thinker,  who  ima- 
gines, that  all  inftances  of  mutual  deference  are 
to  be  underftood  in  earneft,  and  that  a  man  would 
be  more  efteemable  for  being  ignorant  of  his  own 
merits  and  accomplifhments.  A  fmall  bias  towards 
modefty,  even  in  the  internal  fentiment,  is  favour- 
ably regarded,  efpecially  in  young  peoples  and  a 
jflrong  bias  is  required,  in  the  outward  behaviour : 
But  this  excludes  not  a  noble  pride  and  fpirit,  which 
may  openly  difplay  itfelf  in  its  full  extent,  when 
one  lies  under  calumny  or  oppreflion  of  any  kind. 
The  generous  contumacy  of  Socrates,  as  Cicero 
calls  it,  has  been  highly  celebrated  in  all  ages ; 
and  when  joined  to  the  ufual  modefty  of  his  be- 
haviour, forms  a  fhining  charadler.  Iphicrates, 
the  Athenian,  being  accufed  of  betraying  the  in- 
terefts  of  his  country,  afked  his  accufer,  Would 
yoUi  fays  he,  have^  on  a  like  occafion^  been  guilty  of 
that  crime?  By  no  means,  replied  the  other.  And 
can  you  then  imagine,  cried  the  hero,  that  Iphicrates 
isjould  be  guilty  *  ?  In  Ihort,  a  generous  fpirit  and 
felf-value,  well  founded,  decently  difguifed,  and 
courageoully  fupported  under  diftrefs  and  calumny, 
is  a  great  excellency,  and  feems  to  derive  its  merit 
from  the  noble  elevation  of  its  fentiment,  or  its 
immediate  agreeablenefs  to  its  pofleflbr.  In  ordi- 
nary characters,  we  approve  of  a  bias  towards  mo- 
defty, which  is  a  quality  immediately  agreeable  to 

Others : 

*  Quinftil.  lib.  v.  cap.  12. 


ji6  SECTION       VIII. 

others:  The  vicious  excefs  of  the   former  virtue, 
namely,  infolence   or  haiightinefs,  is   immediately 
difagreeable    to  others :  The  excefs  of  the  latter  is 
fo  to  the  poflefibr.     Thus  are   the  boundaries   of 
thefe  duties  adjufted. 

A  defire  of  fame,  reputation,  or  a  character  with 
others,  is  fo  far  from  being  blameable,  that  it  feems 
infeparable  from  virtue,  genius,  capacity,  and  a 
generous  or  noble  difpofition.  An  attention  even 
to  trivial  matters,  in  order  to  pleafe,  is  alfo  expect- 
ed and  demanded  by  fociety ;  and  no  one  is  fur- 
prifed,  if  he  find  a  man  in  company,  to  obferve  a 
greater  elegance  of  drefs  and  more  pleafant  flow  of 
converfation,  than  when  he  paffes  his  time  at  home, 
and  with  his  own  family.  Wherein,  then,  confifts 
Vanity,  which  is  fojuitly  regarded  as  a  fault  or  im- 
perfedlion.  It  feems  to  confill  chiefly  in  fuch  an 
intemperate  difplay  of  our  advantages,  honours, 
and  accomplifliments ;  in  fuch  an  importunate  and 
open  demand  of  praife  and  admiration,  as  is  offen- 
five  to  others,  and  encroaches  too  far  on  their  fe- 
cret  vanity  and  ambition.  It  is  befides  a  fure  fymp- 
tom  of  the  want  of  true  dignity  and  elevation  of 
mind,  which  is  fo  great  an  ornament  in  any  charac- 
ter. For  why  that  impatient  defire  of  applaufe; 
as  if  you  were  not  juftly  entitled  to  it,  and  might 
not  reafonably  expedl,  that  it  would  for  ever  at- 
tend you  ?  Why  fo  anxious  to  inform  us  of  the  great 
company  which  you  have  kept;  the  obliging  things 
which  were  faid  to  you ;  the  honours,  the  diftincli- 
ons  which  you  met  with ;  as  if  thefe  were  not  things 
ofcourfe,  and  what  we  could  readily,  ofourfelves, 
have  imagined,  -vyithout  being  told  of  them  ? 

Decency,  or  a  proper  regard  to  age,  fex,  cha- 
racler,  and  fl;ation  in  the  world,  may  be  ranked  a- 
mong  the  qualities,  which  are  immediately  agree- 
able to  others,  and  which,  by  that  means,  ac- 
quire praife  and  approbation.  An  effeminate  be- 
haviour in  a  man,  a  rough  manner  in  a  woman  i 

thefe 


0/Qu  ALiTiES  immediately  agreeable  to  Others.   317 

thefe  are  ugly  becaufe  unfuitable  to  each  charafler, 
and  dilVerenc  from  the  qualities  which  we  exped  in 
the  iexes.  It  is  as  if  a  tragedy  abounded  in  comic 
beauties,  or  a  comedy  in  tragic.  The  difpropor- 
tions  hurt  the  eye,  and  convey  a  difagreeable  fen- 
timent  to  tlie  fpe(5lators,  the  fource  of  blame  and 
difapprobacion.  This  is  that  indecorumy  which  is 
explained  fo  much  at  large  by  Cicero  in  his  Offices. 

Among  the  other  virtues,  we  may  alfo  give 
Cleanlinefs  a  places  fmce  it  naturally  renders  us 
agreeable  to  others,  and  is  no  inconfiderable  fource 
of  love  and  afteclion.  No  one  will  deny,  that  a 
negligence  in  this  particular  is  a  fault  j  and  as  faults 
are  nothing  but  fmaller  vices,  and  this  fault  can 
have  no  other  origin  than  the  uneafy  fenfation, 
which  it  excites  in  others;  we  may,  in  this  in- 
llance,  feemingly  fo  trivial,  clearly  difcover  the 
origin  of  moral  diflindlions,  about  which  the  learn- 
ed have  involved  themfelves  in  fuch  mazes  of  per- 
plexity and  error. 

But  befides  all  the  agreeable  qualities,  the  origin 
of  whofe  beauty,  we  can,  in  fome  degree,  explain 
and  account  for,  there  ftill  remains  fomething 
myfterious  and  inexplicable,  which  conveys  an  im- 
mediate fatisfadlion  to  the  fpe6lator,  but  how,  or 
why,  or  for  what  reafon,  he  cannot  pretend  to  de- 
termine. There  is  a  manner,  a  grace,  an  eafe, 
a  genteelnefs,  an  I-know-not-what,  which  fome 
men  poflefs  above  others,  which  is  very  different 
from  external  beauty  and  comelinefs,  and  which, 
however,  catches  our  afFedlion  almoft  as  fuddenly 
and  powerfully.  And  though  this  manner  be  chief- 
ly talked  of  in  the  pafiion  between  the  fexes,  where 
the  concealed  magic  is  eafily  explained,  yet  furely 
much  of  it  prevails  in  all  our  eflimation  of  charac- 
ters, and  forms  no  inconfiderable  part  of  perfonal 
merit.  This  clafs  of  accomplifhments,  therefore, 
muft  be  trufted  entirely  to  the  blind,  but  fure  tef- 
timony  of  tafte  and  fentimentj  and  mull  be  confi- 

dered 


3iS 


SECTION      VIII. 


dered  as  a  part  of  ethics,  left  by  nature  to  baffle  all 
the  pride  of  philofophy,  and  make  her  fenfible  of 
her  narrow  boundaries  and  flender  acquifitions. 

We  approve  of  another,  becaufe  of  his  wit,  po- 
litenefs,  modefty,  decency,  or  any  agreeable  qua- 
lity which  he  pofleflesj  although  he  be  not  of  our 
acquaintance,  nor  has  ever  given  us  any  entertain-^ 
ment,  by  means  of  thefe  accomplifhments.  The 
idea,  which  we  form  of  their  effeft  on  his  acquain- 
tance, has  an  agreeable  influence  on  our  imaginati- 
on, and  gives  us  the  fentiment  of  approbation. 
This  principle  enters  into  all  the  judgments,  which 
we  form  concerning  manners  and  characters. 


SECT- 


(    3^9    ) 


SECTION      IX. 

Conclusion. 

PART       I. 

J.T  may  juftly  appear  furprifing,  that  any  man, 
in  fo  late  an  age,  fhould  find  it  requifite  to  prove, 
by  elaborate  realoning,  that  Perlbnal  Merit  con- 
fills  altogether  in  the  pofTeflion  of  mental  qualities, 
u/eful  or  agreeable  to  the  per/on  bim/elf  or  to  others. 
It  might  be  expeded,  that  this  principle  would 
have  occurred  even  to  the  firft  rude,  unpra6lifed 
enquirers  concerning  morals,  and  been  received 
from  its  own  evidence,  without  any  argument  or 
difputation.  Whatever  is  valuable  in  any  kind, 
fo  naturally  clalTes  itfelf  under  the  divifion  of  u/e- 
ful or  agreeable^  the  utile  or  the  dulce^  that  it  is 
not  eafy  to  imagine,  why  we  fhould  ever  fcek 
farther,  or  confider  the  queflion  as  a  matter  of  nice 
refearch  or  enquiry.  And  as  every  thing  ufeful  or 
agreeable  muft  poflefs  thefe  qualities  with  regard 
either  to  the  per/on  him/elf  or  to  others,  the  com- 
pleat  delineation  or  defcription  of  merit  feems  to 
be  performed  as  naturally  as  a  fhadow  is  caft  by 
the  fun,  or  an  image  is  reflefted  upon  water.  If 
the  ground,  on  which  the  fhadow  is  call,  be  not 
broken  and  uneven ;  nor  the  firface,  from  which 
the  image  is  refle6led,  difturbtd  and  confufedj 
a  jult  figure  is  immediately  prelented,  without  any 

arc 


320  S    E    C    T    I    O    N     IX. 

art  or  attention.  And  it  feems  a  reafonable  pre- 
fumption,  that  fyftems  and  hypothefes  have  per- 
verted our  natural  underftanding ;  when  a  theory, 
fo  fimple  and  obvious,  could  fo  long  have  efcaped 
the  moft  elaborate  examination. 

But  however  the  cafe  may  have  fared  with  philo- 
ibphy;  in  common  life,  thefe  principles  are  ilill 
implicitly  maintained,  nor  is  any  other  topic  of 
praife  or  blame  ever  recurred  to,  when  we  employ 
any  panegyric  or  fatire,  any  applaufe  or  cenfure 
of  human  action  and  behaviour.  If  we  obferve 
men,  in  every  intercourfe  of  bufinefs  or  pleafure, 
in  every  difcourfe  and  converfation ;  we  Ihall  find 
them  no  where,  except  in  the  fchools,  at  any  lofs 
upon  this  fubje(fl.  What  fo  natural,  for  inftance, 
as  the  following  dialogue  ?  You  are  very  happy, 
we  fhall  fuppofe  one  to  fay,  addrefling  himfelf  to 
another,  that  you  have  given  your  daughter  to 
Cleanthes.  He  is  a  man  of  honour  and  humanity. 
Every  one,  who  has  any  intercourfe  with  him,  is 
fure  of  fair  and  kind  treatment  *.  I  congratulate 
you  too,  fays  another  on  the  promifing  expeftati- 
ons  of  this  fon  in-law ;  whofe  affiduous  applicati- 
on to  the  lludy  of  the  laws,  whofe  quick  penetrati- 
on and  early  knowledge  both  of  men  and  bufinefs, 
prognofticate  the  greateft  honours  and  advance- 
ment f.  You  furprize  me,  replies  a  third,  when 
you  talk  of  Cleanthes  as  a  man  of  bufinefs  and  ap- 
plication. I  met  him  lately  in  a  circle  of  the  gayefl 
company,  and  he  was  the  very  life  and  foul  of  our 
converfation  :  So  much  wit  with  good  manners  ; 
fo  much  gallantry  without  afi'eftation  ;  fo  much  in- 
genious knowledge  fo  genteelly  delivered,  I  have 
never  before  obferved  in  any  one  J.  You  would 
admire  him  Hill  more,  fays  a  fourth,  if  you  knew 

him 

•  Qualities  ufcful  to  others. 

f  Qualities  ufefal  to  the  perfon  himfelf. 

\  Qualities  immediately  agreeable  toothers. 


CONCLUSIOM.  321 

him  more  familiarly.  That  chearfulnefs,  which 
you  might  remark  in  him,  is  not  a  fudden  flafh 
llruck  out  by  company :  It  runs  through  the 
whole  tenor  of  his  life,  and  preferves  a  perpetual 
ferenity  on  his  countenance,  ^nd  tranquillity  in 
his  foul.  He  has  met  with  fevere  trials,  misfor- 
tunes as  well  as  dangers ;  and  by  his  greatnefs  of 
mind,  was  ftill  fuperior  to  all  of  them  *.  The 
image,  gentlemen,  which  you  have  here  delineat- 
ed of  Cleanthes,  cry'd  I,  is  that  of  accomplifhed 
merit.  Each  of  you  his  given  a  ftroke  of  the  pen- 
cil to  his  figure :  and  you  have  unawares  ex- 
ceeded all  the  picflures  drawn  by  Gratian  or  Caf- 
tiglione.  A  philofopher  might  feleft  this  cha- 
radler  as  a  model   of  perfedl  virtue. 

And  as  every  quality,  which  is  ufeful  or  agree- 
able to  ourfelves  or  others,  is,  in  common  life, 
allowed  to  be  a  part  of  perfonal  merit  j  fo  no 
other  will  ever  be  received,  where  men  judge  of 
things  by  their  natural,  unprejudiced  reafon,  with- 
out the  delufive  gloffes  of  fuperftition  and  falfe 
religion.  Celibacy,  fafling,  penance,  mortificati- 
on, felf-denial,  humility,  filence,  folitude,  and  the 
whole  train  of  monkifh  virtues ;  for  what  reafon 
are  they  every  where  reje6led  by  men  of  fenfe, 
but  becaufe  they  ferve  to  no  manner  of  purpofes 
neither  advance  a  man's  fortune  in  the  world, 
nor  render  him  a  more  valuable  member  of  fo^ 
ciety;  neither  qualify  him  for  the  entertainment 
of  company,  nor  increafe  his  power  of  felf-en- 
joyment  ?  We  obferve,  on  the  contrary,  that  they 
crofs  all  thefe  defirable  ends;  ftupify  the  under- 
ilanding  and  harden  the  heart,  obfcure  the  fan- 
cy and  four  the  temper.  We  juftly,  therefore, 
transfer  them  to  the  oppofite  column,  and  place 
them  in  the  catalogue  of  vices;  nor  has  any 
fuperftition   force    fufficient    among    men    of  the 

Vol.  II.  Y  world, 

♦  Qualities  immediately  agreeable  to  the  perfon  himfelf. 


J22  S    E     C    T    I     O    N      IX. 

world,  to  pervert  entirely  their  natural  fentiments, 
A  gloomy  hair-brained  enthiifiaft,  after  his  death, 
may  have  a  place  in  the  calendar ;  bur  will  fcarce- 
ly  ever  be  admitted,  when  alive,  into  intimacy  and 
fociety,  except  by  thofe  who  are  as  delirioas  and 
difmal  as  himfelf. 

It  feems  a  happinefs  in   the  prefent  theory,  that 
it  enters  not  into  that  vulgar  difpute  concerning  the 
degrees  of  benevoleiice  or  felf-iove,  which   prevail 
in  human  nature :  a  difpute   which  is  never  likely 
to   have   any   iflue,  both    becaufe   men,  who   have 
taken  part,  are  not  eafily  convinced,  and  becaufe 
the  phsenomena,  which  can  be  produced  on  either 
fide,  are  fo  difperfed,  fo  uncertain,  and  fubjeft  to 
fo  many  interpretations,  that  it   is  fcarcely  pofTible 
accurately   to  compare    them,  or  draw  from  them 
any  determinate  inference  or  conclufion.     It  is  fuf- 
iicient   for   our   prefent  purpofe,  if  it  be  allowed, 
what  furely,  without  the  greateft  abfurdity,  cannot 
be   difputed,  that  there  is  fome  benevolence,  how- 
ever fmall,  infufed  into  our   bofom ;  fome  fpark  of 
friendfhip   for  human  kind;  fome  particle  of  the 
dove,  kneaded  into  our  frame,  along  with  the  ele- 
ments of  the  v;olf  and  ferpent.     Let  thefe  generous 
fentiments  be  fuppofed  ever  fo  weak  ;  let  them  be 
infufficient  to  move  even  a  hand  or  finger  of  our  bo- 
dy i  they  muft  ftill  diredl  the  determinations  of  our 
mind,  and  where  every  thing  elfe  is  equal,  produce 
a  cool   preference  of  what  is  ufcful  and  ferviceable 
to  mankind,  above  what  is  pernicious  and  danger- 
ous.     A  moral  dlftintiiorii   therefore,    immediately 
arifesj   a  general  fentiment  of  blame  and  approba- 
tion ;   a  tendency,  however  faint,  to  the  objects  of 
the  one,  and  a  proportionable  averfion  to  thofe  of 
the  other.     Nor  will  thofe  reafoners,  who  fo  earneft- 
ly  maintain  tiie    predominant  felfifhnefs   of  human 
Jcind,  be  any  wife  fcandalized  at  hearing  of  the  weak 
fentiments  of  virtue,  implanted  in  our  nature.     On 
fhe  contrary,  they  are  found   as  readv  to  maintain 

the 


Conclusion.  323 

the  one  tenet  as  the  other;  and  their  fpirit  of  fa- 
tire  (for  fuch  it  appears,  rather  than  of  corruption) 
naturally  gives  rife  to  both  opinions;  which  have, 
indeed,  a  great  and  almoft  an  indiffoluble  connex- 
ion together. 

Avarice,  ambition,  vanity,  and  all  paffions  vul- 
garly, though  improperly,  comprized  under  the 
denomination  o(  Jelf-love,  are  here  excluded  from 
our  theory  concerning  the  origin  of  morals,  not 
becaufe  they  are  too  weak,  but  becaufe  they  have 
not  a  proper  dire6bion,  for  that  purpofe.  The 
notion  of  morals,  implies  fome  fentiment  common 
to  all  mankind,  which  recommends  the  fame  ob- 
jedt  to  general  approbation,  and  makes  every  man, 
or  mofl  men,  agree  in  the  fame  opinion  or  decifion 
concerning  it.  It  alfo  implies  fome  fentiment,  fo 
univerfal  and  comprehenfive  as  to  extend  to  all 
mankind,  and  render  the  actions  and  condu6l, 
even  of  the  perfons  the  mofb  remote,  an  obje6l  of 
applaufe  or  cenfure,  according  as  they  agree  or 
difagree  with  that  rule  of  right  which  is  eftablifh- 
ed.  Thefe  two  requifite  circumftances  belong 
alone  to  the  fentiment  of  humanity  here  infilled  on. 
The  other  palfions  produce,  in  every  breall,  many 
flrong  fentiinents  of  defire  and  averfion,  affedlion 
and  hatred  ;  but  thefe  neither  are  felt  fo  mucli  in 
common,  nor  are  fo  comprehenfive,  as  to  be  the 
foundation  of  any  general  fyftem  and  eftabliflied 
theory  of  blame  or  approbation. 

When  a  man  denominates  another  his  enemy^  his 
rivals  his  antagomfi^  his  adverfary^  he  is  underilood 
to  fpeak  the  language  of  felf-love,  and  to  exprefs 
fentiments,  peculiar  to  himfelf,  and  arifing  from 
his  particular  circumftances  and  ficuarion.But  when 
he  beftows  on  any  man  the  epithets  of  vicioi's  or 
odious  or  depraved,  he  then  fpeaks  another  language, 
and  expreil'es  fentiments,  in  which,  he  expefts,  all 
his  audience  are  to  concur  with  him.  He  mull 
here,  therefore,  depart  from  his  private  and  parti - 

Y  2  cular 


J24  SECTION       IX. 

Cular  lituation,  and  mull  chufe  a  point  of  view, 
common  to  him  with  others :  He  mull  move  fomc 
univerfal  principle  of  the  human  frame,  and  touch 
a  ftiing,  to  which  all  mankind  have  an  accord  and 
fymphony.  If  he  means,  therefore,  to  exprefs,  that 
this  man  pofTelTes  qualities,  whofe  tendency  is  per- 
nicious to  foci'^ty,  he  has  chofen  this  common  point 
of  view,  and  has  touched  the  principle  of  humanity, 
in  which  every  man,  in  feme  degree,  concurs. 
While  the  human  heart  is  compounded  of  the  fame 
elements  as  at  preient,  it  \;ill  never  be  wholly  in- 
different to  public  good,  nor  entirely  unaffefted 
with  the  tendency  of  chara6lers  and  manners.  And 
though  this  affedion  of  humanity  may  not  gener- 
ally be  cfteemed  fo  ftrong  as  vanity  or  ambition, 
yet,  being  ^uTmon  to  aii  men,  it  can  alone  be  tJie 
foundatioi-:  of  mcrals,  or  of  any  general  fyflem  of 
blame  or  praife.  One  man's  ambition  is  not  ano- 
ther's ambition  ;  nor  will  the  fame  event  or  object 
fatisfy  both:  But  the  humanity  of  one  man  is  the 
humanity  of  every  one  3  and  the  fame  objeft  touches 
this  paflion  in  all  human  creatures. 

But  the  fentim.ents,  which  arife  from  humani- 
ty, are  not  only  the  fame  iji  all  human  crea- 
tures, and  produce  the  fame  approbation  or  cen- 
furcj  but  they  aifo  comprehend  all  human  crea- 
tures j  nor  is  there  any  one  whofe  condudl  or 
charaft^r  is  hot,  by  their  means,  an  object,  to 
every  one,  of  cenfure  or  approbation.  On  the 
contrary,  thofe  other  paflions,  commonly  denomi- 
nated felfifn,  both  produce  different  fentiments  in 
each  individual,  according  to  his  particular  fitu- 
aiion ;  and  alfo  contemplate  the  greater  part  of 
mankind  with  the  utmofl  indifference  and  unton- 
cern.  Whoever  has  a  high  regard  and  elleem  for 
me  flatters  my  vanity  ;  whoever  expreffes  con- 
itcmpt  mortlries  and  difpieafes  me  :  But  as  my 
name  is  known  but  to  a  fmall  part  oi"  mankind, 
tliere  are  few,  who  couje  within  tlie  Iphere  of  tliis 

1  paffion. 


Co  NCLUSIO^.  *"  325 

pafTion,  ■  or  encite,  on  its  account,  cither  my  af- 
fedion  or  difgull.-  But  if  you  rcprefent  a  ty- 
rannical, infolent,  or  barbarous  behaviour,  in  any 
country  or  in  any  age  of  the  world ;  I  foon 
carry  my  eye  to  the  pernicious  tendency  of  fuch 
a  condud,  and  feel  the  fentiment  of  repugnance 
and  difpleafure  towards  it;  No  chr.ra6ter  can  be 
fo  remote  as  to  be,  in  this  light,  wholly  indif- 
ferent to  me.  What  is  beneficial  to  fociety  or 
to  the  perfon  himlelf  mult  ftill  be  pfeferred. 
And  every  quality  or  a6lion,  of  every  human  be- 
ing, mud,  by  this  means,  be  ranked  under  fome 
clafs  or  denomination,  exprelTive  of  general  cen- 
fure  or  applaufe. 

What  more,  therefore,  can  we  afk  to  diftinguifli 
the  fentiments,  dependant  on  humanity,  from 
thofe  connefted  with  any  other  paffion,  or  to  fa- 
tisfy  us,  why  the  former  are  the  origin  of  mo- 
rals, not  the  latter?  Whatever  condud:  gains  any 
approbation;  by  touching  my  humanity,  procures 
alfo  the  applaufe  of  ail  mankind,  by  affecfling 
the  fame  principle  in  them :  But  what  ferves  my 
avarice  or  ambition  pleafes  thefe  pafTions  in  me 
alone,  and  aftecls  not  the  avarice  and  ambition 
of  the  reft  of  mankind.  There  is  no  circum- 
ftance  of  conduct  in  any  mian,  provided  it  have  a 
beneficial  tendency,  that  is  not  agreeable  to  my 
humanity,  however  remote  the  perfon  :  But  eve- 
ry man,  fo  far  removed  as  neither  to  crofs  nor 
ferve  my  avarice  nor  ambition,  is  regarded  as 
wholly  indifferent  by  thofe  pallions.  The  dif- 
tindion,  therefore,  between  thefe  fpecies  of  fen- 
timent being  fo  great  and  evident,  language 
muft  foon  be  moulded  upon  it,  and  muft  in- 
vent a  peculiar  fet  of  terms,,  in  order  to  exprefs 
thofe  univerfal  fentiments  of  cenfure  or  appro- 
bation, which  arife  from  humanity,  or  from  views 
of  general  ufefulnefs  and  its  contrary.  Virtue 
and  Vice  become  then  known :  Morals  are  re- 
cognized : 


326         S    E    C    T  -I    O    N      IX. 

cognized  :  Certain  general  ideas  are  framed  of  huf 
man  condu6t  and  behaviour :  Such  meafures  are 
expefted  from  men,  in  fuch  fituations :  This  ac- 
tion is  determined  to  be  conformable  to  our  ab- 
ftrad  rule;  that  other,  contrary.  And  by  fucix 
univerfal  principles  are  the  particular  fenti- 
ments  of  felf-love  frequently  controuled  and  li- 
,  mited  *. 

From    inftanccs   of  popular   tumults,    feditions, 
fadlions,   panics,    and   of  all   palTions,    which   are 
fhared  with   a   multitude;  we   may  learn  the  in- 
fluence   of  fociety,    in    exciting    and    fupporting 
any  emotion ;    while  the  moil  ungovernable  dif- 
orders  are    raifed,  we  find,    by   that  means,  from 
the  flightefl  and  m*oll  frivolous  occafions.     Solon 
was   no  very   cruel,    though,  .  perhaps,    an   unjuft 
legiilator,    who    punifhed    neuters   in    civil    wars ; 
and  few,  I    believe,    would,    in   fuch  cafes,  incur 
the   penalty,    were    their    affeflion    and    difcourfe 
allowed  fufficient  to  ablblve  them.     No  felfifhnefs, 
and   fcarce  any  philofophy,  have  there   force  fuf- 
ficient  to  fupport   a   total    coolncfs   and    indiffer- 
ence ;    and   he   mull  be   more  or  lefs   than   man, 
who  kindles    not    in   the  common  blaze.      What 
wonder  then,  that   moral  fentiments  are  found  of 
fuch  influence  in  life  j  though  fpringing  from  prin- 
ciples, which  may  appear,  at  firft  fight,  fomewhat 
fmall  and  delicate?  But   thefe  principles,  we  mud 
remark,   are  fecial    and  univerfal  :  They   form,  in 
a  manner,  the  farty   of  hinnan-kind  againll  vice 
or  diforder,  its  connnon  cnemv  :  And  as  the  be- 
nevolent concern  for  others  is  diffufed,  in  a  great- 
er or  lefs   degree,  over  all  men,  and  is  the  fame 
in  all,    it   occurs    more    frequently   in    difcourfe, 
is  cherilLed   by  fociety  and   converlation,  and  the 
blame    and    approbation,    confequent    on    it,    are 
thereby   rouzed    from    that   lethargy,     into    which 
they  are   probably  lulled,  in  folitary  and   uncul- 
tivated 
•  See  N  O  T  E  [NN], 


Conclusion.  327 

tivated  nature.  Other  pafTions,  though  perhaps 
originally  Ilronger,  yet  being  fclfilh  and  private, 
are  often  overpowered  by  its  force,  and  yield  the 
dominion  of  our  breall  to  thofc  focial  and  public 
principles. 

Another  fpring  of  (;ur  conftitution,  that  brings 
a  great  addition  of  force  to  moral  fentiment, 
is,  the  love  of  fame  ;  v^^hich  rules,  with  fuch  un- 
controlled authority,  in  all  generous  minds,  and 
is  often  the  grand  objedt  of  all  their  defigns  and 
undertakings.  By  our  continual  and  earneft  pur- 
fuit  of  a  chara(fter,  a  name,  a  reputation  in  the 
world,  we  bring  our  own  deportment  and  conduct 
frequently  in  review,  and  confider  how  they  ap- 
pear in  the  eyes  of  thofe  who  approach  and  re- 
gard us.  This  coniianc  habit  of  furveying  our- 
felves,  as  it  were,  in  refle6tion,  keeps  alive  all 
the  fentiments  of  right  an,d  wrong,  and  begets, 
in  noble  natures,  a  certain  reverence  for  them- 
felves  as  well  as  others;  which  is  the  fureft  guar- 
dian of  every  virtue.  Their  animal  conveniencies 
and  pleafures  fink  gradually  in  their  value,  while 
every  inward  beauty  and  mo  al  grace  is  ftudiouf- 
\y  acquired,  and  the  mind  is  accompliflied  in 
every  perfecStion,  which  can  adorn  or  embellilh  a 
rational   creature. 

Here  is  the  molt  perfect  morality  with  which 
v/e  are  acquainted  :  Here  is  diiplayed  the  force  of 
many  fympathies.  Our  moral  fentimeac  is  itfelf  a 
feeling  chiefly  of  that  nature:  And  our  regard  to  a 
charadler  with  others  feems  to  arife  only  from  a 
care  of  preferving  a  chara6tcr  with  ourfelves  ;  and 
in  order  to  attain  this  end,  we  find  it  neceflary  to 
prop  our  tottering  judgment  on  the  correfpondent 
approbation  of  mankind. 

But,  that  we  may  accommodate  matters,  and  re- 
move, if  poflible,  every  difficulty,  let  us  allow  all 
thefe  reafonings  to  be  falfe.  Let  us  allow,  that, 
when   we  refoive  the  plcalure,  which   arifes  from 

views 


328  S    E    C    T    I     O    N     IX. 

views  of  utility,  into  the  fentiments  of  humanity  and 
lympathy,  we  have  embraced  a  wrong  hypothefis. 
Let  us  confefs  it  necefiary  to  find  fome  other  ex- 
plication of  that  applaufe,  which  is  paid  to  objefts, 
whether  inanimate,  animate,  or  rational,  if  they 
have  a  tendency  to  promote  the  welfare  and  ad- 
vantage of  mankind.  However  difficult  it  be  to 
conceive,  that  an  objedt  is  approved  of  on  ac- 
count of  its  tendency  to  a  certain  end,  while  the 
end  itfelf  is  totally  indifferent ;  let  us  fwallow 
this  abfurdity,  and  confider  what  are  the  confe- 
quences. 

The  preceding  delineation  or  definition  of  Per- 
fonal  Merit  muil  ftill  retain  its.  evidence  and  au- 
thority: It  mufl  ftill  be  allowed,  that  every  quali- 
ty of  the  mind,  which  is  iijcful  or  agreeable  to  the 
perfcn  himjelf  ox  to  others^  communicates  a  pleafurc 
to  the  fpectator,  engages  his  eiteem,  and  is  ad- 
mitted under  the  honourable  denomination  of  vir- 
tue or  merit.  Are  not  juftice,  fidelity,  honour, 
veracity,  allegiance,  chaftity,  efleemed  folely  on 
account  of  their  tendency  to  promote  the  good  of 
fociety  ?  Is  not  that  tendency  infeparable  from  hu- 
manity, benevolence,  lenity,  generofity,  gratitude, 
moderation,  tendernefs,  friendlhip,  and  all  the 
other  focial  virtues?  Can  it  pollibly  be  doubted, 
that  induftry,  difcretion,  frugality,  fecrecy,  order, 
perfeverance,  forethought,  judgment,  and  this 
whole  ciafs  of  virtues  and  accomplifhments,  of 
which  many  pages  would  not  contain  the  cata- 
logue} can  it  be  doubted,  I  fay,  that  the  tenden- 
cy of  thefe  qualities  to  promote  the  intereft  and 
happinefs  of  their  poiletlbr,  is  the  icle  foundation 
of  their  merit  ?  Who  can  difpute  that  a  mind,  which 
fiipports  a  perpetual  ferenity  and  chearfulnefs,  a  no- 
ble dignity  and  fpirit,  a  tender  affedtion  and  good- 
will to  all  around  i  as  it  has  more  enjoyment  with- 
in itfelf,  is  alfo  a  more  animating  and  rejoicing 
fpc<5lacic,  tliaii  if  dejeded  with  melancholy,  tor- 
mented 


Conclusion.  329 

merited  with  anxiety,  irritated  with  rage,  or  funk 
into  the  mod  abjeft  bafenefs  and  degeneracy  ?  And 
as  to  the  qualities,  immediately  agreeable  to  others, 
they  fpeak  fufficiently  for  themfelves ;  and  he  muft 
be  unhappy,  indeed,  either  in  his  own  temper,  or 
in  his  fituation  and  company,  who  has  never  per- 
ceived the  charms  of  a  facetious  wit  or  flowing  affa- 
bility, of  a  delicate  modefly  or  decent  genteelnefs 
of  addrefs  and  manner. 

I  am  fenfible,  that  nothing  can  be  more  unphi- 
lofophical  than  to  be  pofitive  or  dogmatical  on  any 
fubjefb ;  and  that,  even  if  excejfive  fcepticifm  could 
be  maintained,  it  would  not  be  more  deftrudtive  to 
all  juft  reafoning  and  enquiry.  I  am  convinced, 
that,  where  men  are  the  mofl  fure  and  arrogant, 
they  are  commonly  the  moft  miftaken,  and  have 
there  given  reins  to  paflion,  without  that  proper 
deliberation  and  fufpenfe,  which  can  alone  fecure 
the  grofleft  abfurdities.  Yet,  I  muft  confefs,  that 
this  enumeration  puts  the  matter  in  fo  itrong  a  light, 
that  I  cannot,  at  ^refent^  be  more  aiTured  of  any 
truth,  which  I  learn  from  reafoning  and  argument, 
than  that  perfonal  merit  confifts  entirely  in  the 
ufefulnefs  or  agreeablenefs  of  qualities  to  the  per- 
fon  himfelf  poffefTed  of  them,  or  to  others,  who 
have  any  intercourfe  with  him.  But  when  I  refiedl, 
that,  though  the  bulk  and  figure  of  the  earth  have 
been  meafured,  and  delineated,  though  the  moti- 
ons of  the  tides  have  been  accounted  for,  the  order 
and  ceconomy  of  the  heavenly  bodies  fubjedred  to 
their  proper  laws,  and  Infinite  itfelf  reduced  to 
calculation;  yet  men  ftill.  difpute  concerning  the 
foundation  of  their  moral  duties  :  "When  1  refledt 
on  this,  1  fay,  I  fall  back  into  diffidence  and  fcep- 
ticifm, and  fufpecSt,  that  an  hypoihefis,  fo  obvious, 
had  it  been  a  true  one,  v/ould,  long  ere  now,  have 
been  received  by  the  unanimous  fuffrage  and  con- 
fent  of  mankind. 

PART 


330  SECTION      iX. 

PART      II. 

Having  explained  the  moral  approbation  attend- 
ing merit  or   virtue,    there  remains   nothing,  but 
briefly  to  confider  our   interefted  obligation  to  it, 
and  to  enquire,  whether  every  man,  who  has   any 
regard  to  his  own  happinefs  and  welfare,  will  not 
beft  find  his  account  in  the  pradtice  of  every  moral 
duty.     If  this  can  be  clearly  afcertained  from  the 
foregoing  theory,  we  fhall  have  the  fatisfadlion  to 
reflefl,  that   we   have   advanced  principles,  which 
not  only,  it  is  hoped,  will  (land  the  teft  of  reafon- 
ing  and  enquiry,  but  may  contribute  to  the  amend- 
ment  of  men's  lives,    and   their    improvement  in 
morality  and  focial  virtue.     And   though  the  phi- 
Jofophical  truth  of  any  propofition  by    no  means 
depends  on    its  tendency  to  promote  the  interefts 
of  fociety  j  yet  a  man  has  but  a  bad  grace,  who 
delivers  a  theory,    however  true,  which,  he  muft 
confefs,  leads  to  a  pradice  dangerous  and  perni- 
cious.    Why   rake  into    thofe    corners   of  nature, 
which  fpread  a  nuifance  all  around  ?  Why  dig  up 
the   peftilence  from  the  pit,  in  which  it  is  buried  ? 
The  ingenuity  of  your  refearches  may  be  admired; 
but  your  fyftems  will  be  detefted  :  And  mankind 
will    agree,  if   they    cannot    refute  them,  to    fink 
them,    at  leaft,    in   eternal    filence   and  oblivion. 
Truths,    which    are  pernicious    to    fociety,    if  any 
fach   there  be,  will   yield  to  errors,  which  are  fa- 
lutary  and  advantageous. 

But  what  philofophical  truths  can  be  more  ad- 
vantageous to  fociety,  than  thofe  here  delivered, 
which  reprefent  virtue  in  all  her  genuine  and  moft 
engaging  charms,  and  make  us  approach  her  with 
cafe,  familiarity,  and  afi^cdlion  ?  The  difmal  drefs 
falls  off,  with  which  many  divines,  and  fome  philo- 
fophers  have  covered  her;  and  nothing  appears  but 
gentlenefs,  humanity,  beneficence,  afiabiiity;  nay, 

even. 


Conclusion.  jji 

even,  at  proper  intervals,  play,  frolic,  and  gaity. 
She  talks  not  of  ufelcfs  aufterities  and  rigours,  fuf- 
fcring  and  fclf-denial.  She  declares,  tliat  her  fole 
purpofe  is,  to  make  her  votaries  and  all  mankind, 
during  every  inftant  of  their  exiltence,  if  poHlble, 
cheerful  and  happy  j  nor  does  ilie  ever  willingly 
part  with  any  pleafure  but  in  hopes  of  ample  com- 
penfation  in  Ibmc  other  period  of  their  lives.  The 
fole  trouble,  which  fhe  demands,  is  that  of  jult 
calculation,  and  a  lleady  preference  of  the  greater 
happinefs.  And  if  any  auftere  pretenders  approach 
her,  enemies  to  joy  and  pleafure,  fhe  eithers  rejects 
them  as  hypocrites  and  deceivers  j  or  if  Hie  admit 
them  in  her  train,  they  are  ranked  however,  among 
the  leaft  favoured  of  her  votaries. 

And,  indeed,  to  drop  all  figurative  expreflion, 
what  hopes  can  we  ever  have  of  engaging  mankind 
to  a  practice,  which  we  confefs  full  of  aufterity  and 
rigour?  Or  what  theory  of  morals  can  ever 
ferve  any  ufeful  purpofe,  unlefs  it  can  fhow,  by  a 
particular  detail,  that  all  the  duties,  which  it  re- 
commends, are  allb  the  true  intercft  of  each  indi- 
vidual? The  peculiar  advantage  of  the  foregoing 
fyftem  feems  to  be,  that  it  furnifhes  proper  medi- 
ums for  that  purpofer' 

That  the  virtues  which  are  immediately  ujefnl 
or  agreeable  to  the  perfon  poffefTed  of  them,  are 
defirable  in  a  view  to  felf-intereft,  it  would  furely 
be  fuperfluous  to  prove.  Moraliils,  indeed,  may 
fpare  themfelves  all  the  pains,  which  they  often 
take  in  recommending  thefe  duties.  To  what 
purpofe  coiled  arguments,  to  evince,  that  tempe- 
rance is  advantageous,  and  the  exceffes  of  pleafure 
hurtful  ?  When  it  appears,  that  thefe  exceffes  are 
denominated  fuch,  becaufe  they  are  hurtful ;  and 
that,  if  the  unlimited  ufe  of  Itrong  liquors,  for  in- 
fbance,  no  more  impaired  health  or  the  faculties  of 
mind  and  body  than  the  ufe  of  air  or  water,  it 
would  not  be  a  whit  more  vicious  or  blameable. 

It 


332  SECTION      IX. 

It  feems  equally  fuperfluous  to  prove,  that  the 
companionable  virtues  of  good  manners  and  wit,  de- 
cency and  genteelnefs,  are  more  defirable  than  the 
contrary  qualities.  Vanity  alone,  without  any  other 
confideration,  is  a  fufficient  motive  to  make  us  wifh 
for  the  poffeffion  of  thefe  accornplilhments.  No 
man  was  ever  willingly  deficient  in  this  particular. 
All  our  failures  here  proceed  from  bad  education, 
want  of  capacity,  or  a  perverfe  and  unpliable  dif- 
pofition.  Would  you  have  your  company  coveted, 
admired,  followed;  rather  than  hated,  defpifed, 
avoided?  Can  any  one  ferioufly  deliberate  in  the 
•cafe  ?  As  no  enjoyment  is  fincere,  without  fome  re- 
ference to  company  and  fociety ;  fo  no  fociety  can 
be  agreeable,  or  even  tolerable,  where  a  man  feels 
his  prefence  unwelcome,  and  difcovers  all  around 
him  fymptoms  of  difguft  and  averfion. 

But  why,  in  the  greater  fociety  or  confederacy  of 
mankind,  ihould  not  the  cafe  be  the  fame  as  in 
particular  clubs  and  companies  ?  Why  is  it  more 
doubtful,  that  the  enlarged  virtues  of  humanity,  ge- 
nerofity,  beneficence,  are  defirable  with  a  view  to 
happinefs  and  felf-intereft,  than  the  limited  endow- 
ments of  ingenuity  and  politenefs?  Are  we  appre- 
henfive,  left  thofe  focial  affefbions  interfere,  in  a 
greater  and  more  immediate  degree  than  any  other 
purfuits,  with  private  utility,  and  cannot  be  grati- 
fied, without  fome  important  facrifice  of  honour  and 
advantage  ?  If  fo,  we  are  but  ill  inftrufted  in  the 
nature  of  the  human  pafTions,  and  are  more  in- 
fiuenced  by  verbal  diftindions  than  by  real  diffe- 
rences. 

Whatever  contradiction  may  vulgarly  be  fuppo- 
fed  between  the  Jclfijh  and  Jocial  fentimcnts  or  dif- 
pofitions,  they  are  really  no  more  oppofite  than  fel- 
fiiK  and  ambitious,  felfifh  and  vain.  It  is  requifite, 
that  there  be  an  original  propenfity  of  fome  kind, 
in  order  to  be  a  bafis  to  felf-love,  by  giving  a  re- 
lifh  to  the  objedis  of  its  purfuit;  and  none  more  fit 

fof 


Conclusion.  333 

for  this  piirpofe  than  benevolence  or  humanity. 
The  goods  of  fortune  are  fpent  in  one  gratification 
or  another:  The  mifer,  who  accumulates  his  an- 
nual incoine,  and  lends  it  out  at  interell,  has  real- 
ly fpent  it  in  the  gratification  of  his  avarice.  And  it 
would  be  difficult  to  fliow,  why  a  man  is  more  a 
lofer  by  a  generous  aflion,  than  by  any  other  me- 
thod of  expence;  fince  the  utmoft  which  he  can  at- 
tain, by  the  moil  elaborate  felfiHinefs,  is  the  indul- 
gence of  fomc  afTeclion. 

Now  if  life,  without  palTion,  mufb  be  altogether 
infipid  and  tirefome;  let  a  man  fuppofe  that  he  has 
full  power  of  modelling  his  own  difpofition,  and 
let  him  deliberate  what  appetite  or  defire  he  would 
choofc  for  the  foundation  of  his  happinefs  and  en- 
joyment. Every  afFedon,  he  would  obferve,  when 
gratified  by  fuccefs,  gives  a  fatisfaftion  proportion- 
ed to  its  force  and  violence :  but  befides  this  ad- 
vantage, common  to  all,  the  immediate  feeling  of 
benevolence  and  friendihip,  humanity  and  kind- 
nefs,  is  fweet,  fmooth,  tender,  and  agreeable,  in- 
dependent of  all  fortune  and  accidents.  Thefe  vir- 
tues are  befides  attended  with  a  pleafing  confciouf- 
nefs  or  remembrance.,  and  keep  us  in  humour  with 
ourfelves  as  well  as  others;  while  we  retain  the 
agreeable  reflexion  of  having  done  our  part  to- 
wards mankind  and  fociety.  And  though  all  men 
fhow  a  jealoufy  of  our  fuccefs  in  the  purfuits  of 
avarice  and  ambition ;  yet  are  we  almoft  fure  or 
their  good-will  and  good-wifhes,  fo  long  as  we 
perfevere  in  the  paths  of  virtue,  and  employ  our- 
felves in  the  execution  of  generous  plans  and  pur- 
pofes.  What  other  pallion  is  tlierc  where  we  fhail 
fine  fo  many  advantages  unitedj  an  agreeable  fen- 
timent,  a  pleafing  confcioufnefs,  a  good  reputati- 
on ?  But  of  thefe  truths,  we  may  obferve,  men 
are,  of  themfelves,  pretty  much  convinced;  nor 
are  they  deficient  in  their  duty  to  fociety,  becaufe 
they  would  not  wifh  to  be  generous,  friendly,    and 

humane; 


334         .SECTION      IX. 

humane  J  but  becaufe  they  do  not  feel  themfelves 
fuch. 

Treating  vice  with  the  greateft  candour,  and 
making  it  all  pofTible  conceffions,  we  muil  ac- 
knowledge, that  there  is  not,  in  any  inftance,  the 
fmalleft  pretext  for  giving  it  the  preference  above 
virtue,  with  a  view  to  felf-intereft;  except,  per- 
haps, in  the  cafe  of  juflice,  where  a  man,  taking 
things  in  a  certain  light,  may  often  feem  to  be 
a  lofer  by  his  integrity.  And  though  it  is  al- 
lowed,  that,  without  a  regard  to  property,  no  fo- 
ciety  could  fubfift;  yet  according  to  the  imperfedt 
way  in  which  human  affairs  are  condud^ed,  a  fenfible 
knave,  in  particular  incidents,  may  think,  that  an 
a<5t  of  iniquity  or  infidelity  will  make  a  confide- 
rable  addition  to  his  fortune,  without  caufing 
any  confiderable  breach  in  the  focial  union 
and  confederacy.  That  honejly  is  the  heft  'policy^ 
may  be  a  good  general  rule;  but  is  liable  to 
many  exceptions :  And  he,  it  may,  perhaps,  be 
thought,  conducts  himfclfwith  mofl  wifdom,  who 
obferves  the  general  rule,  and  takes  advantage  of 
all  the  exceptions. 

I  muft  confefs,  that,  if  a  man  think,  that  this 
reafoning  much  requires  an  anfwer,  it  will  be  little 
difficult  to  find  any,  which  will  to  him  appear  fa- 
tisfad:ory  and  convincing.  If  his  heart  rebel  not 
againft  fuch  pernicious  maxims,  if  he  feel  no  re- 
luctance to  the  thoughts  of  villany  or  bafenefs,  he 
has  indeed  loft  a  confiderable  motive  to  virtue; 
and  we  may  expert  that  his  practice  will  be  an- 
Iwcrable  to  his  fpeculation.  But  in  all  ingenuous 
natures,  the  antipathy  to  treachery  and  roguery  is 
too  itrong  to  be  counterbalanced  by  any  views 
of  profit  or  pecuniary  advantage.  Inward  peace  of 
mind,  confcioufnefs  of  integrity,  a  fatisfadlory  re- 
view of  our  own  condu6t;  thefe  are  circumftances 
very  requifite  to  hapj)inefs,  and  will  be  chcrifhed 

and 


Conclusion.  ;^t^^ 

and  cultivated  by  every  honeft  man,  who  feels  the 
importance  of  them. 

Such  a  one  has,  befides,  the  frequent  fatisfacflion 
of  feeing  knaves,  with  all  their  pretended  cunning 
and  abilities,  betrayed  by  their  own  maxims;  and 
while  they  purpofe  to  cheat  with  moderation  and 
fecrecy,  a  tempting  incident  occurs,  nature  is  frail, 
and  they  give  into  the  fnare ;  whence  they  can  ne- 
ver extricate  themfelves,  without  a  total  lofs  of  re- 
putation, and  the  forfeiture  of  all  future  trull  and 
confidence  with  mankind. 

But  were  they  ever  fo  fecret  and  fuccefsful,  the 
Iioneft  man,  if  he  has  any  tin6ture  of  philofophy, 
or  even  common  obfervation  and  refledion,  will 
difcover  that  they  themfelves  are,  in  the  end,  the 
greateft  dupes,  and  have  facrificed  the  invaluable 
enjoyment  of  a  chara6ler,  with  themfelves  at  leafl:, 
for  the  acquifition  of  worthlefs  toys  and  gewgaws. 
How  little  is  requifite  to  fupply  the  neceJIities  of  na- 
ture ?  And  in  a  view  to  ■plcajiire^  what  comparifon  be- 
tween the  unboughtfatisfaftion  of  converfation,focie- 
ty,  ftudy,  even  health  and  the  common  beauties  of 
nature,  but  above  all  the  peaceful  refledtion  on  one's 
own  condudl :  What  comparifon,  I  fay,  between  thefe, 
and  the  feverifh,  empty  amufements  of  luxury  and 
expence?  Thcfe  natural  pleafures,  indeed,  are  really 
without  price;  both  becaufe  they  are  below  all 
price  in  their  attainment,  and  above  it  in  their  en- 
joyment. 


SECTION 


(  337  ) 


APPENDIX     I. 

Concerning   Moral  Sentiment. 

AF  the  foregoing  hypothefis  be  received,  it  will 
now  be  eafy  for  us  to  determine  the  queftion  firfl; 
ftarted  *,  concerning  the  general  principles  of  mo- 
rals ;  and  though  we  poit])oned  the  decifion  of  that 
queftion,  left  it  ftiould  then  involve  us  in  intri- 
cate fpeculations,  which  are  unfit  for  moral  dif- 
courfes,  we  may  refume  it  at  prefent,  and  examine 
how  far  either  reqfon  or  Jentimcnt  enters  into  all  de- 
cifions  of  praife  or  cenfure. 

One  principal  foundation  of  moral  praife  being 
fuppofed  to  lie  in  the  ufefulnefs  of  any  quality  or 
action  ;  it  is  evident,  that  reajon  muft  enter  for  a 
confiderable  fhare  in  all  decifions  of  this  kind; 
fince  nothing  but  that  faculty  can  inftru6t  us  in  the 
tendency  of  qualities  and  a6lions,  and  point  out 
their  beneficial  confequences  to  fociety  and  to  their 
poffeflbr.  In  many  cafes,  this  is  an  affair  liable 
to  great  controverfy  :  Doubts  may  arife  ;  oppofite 
interefts  may  occur;  and  a  preference  muft  be 
given  to  one  fide,  from  very  nice  views,  and  a 
fmall  overbalance  of  utility.  This  is  particularly 
remarkable  in  queftions  with  regard  tojuftice;  as 
is,  indeed,  natural  to  fuppofe,  from  that  fpecies  of 
utility,  which  attends  this  virtue  f.  Were  every 
fingle  inftance  of  juftice,  like  that  of  benevolence, 
ufeful   to  fociety  i    this  would   be  a  more   fimple 

Vol.  II.  Z  ftate 

•  Se.^.  I.  t  See  Appendix  III. 


33S  APPENDIX      I. 

flate  of  the  cafe,  and  feldom  liable  to  great  con- 
trovcrfy.     But  as  fingle  inllances  of  jiiftice  are  of- 
ten pernicious  in  their  firit  and  immediate  tenden- 
cy,  and  as   the  advantage   to  fociety  refults   only 
from  the  obfervance  of  the  general  rule,    and  from 
the  concurrence  and  combination  of  feveral  per- 
fons  in  the  fame  equitable  condutlj   the  cafe  here 
becomes  more  intricate  and  involved.      The  va- 
rious  circumftances  of  fociety;  the  various  confe- 
quences   of  any   pra<flice  j     the  various   interefts, 
which  may  be  propofed  :  Thefe,  on  many  occafi- 
ons,    are  doubtful,   and    fubjedt  to  great  difcufli- 
on   and  enquiry.      The  obje<5l:  of  municipal  laws 
is  to  fix  all  the  queilions  with  regard   to  juftice : 
The  debates  of  civilians  ;    the  reflexions  of  politi- 
cians;  the  precedents  ofhiflory  and  public  records, 
are  all  dire(51:ed  to   the  fame  purpofe.     And  a  very 
accurate  reafon  or  judgment   is  often    requifite,    to 
give  the  true  determination,  amidft  fuch  intricate 
doubts   arifing   from    obfcure    or   oppofite    utili- 
ties. 

But  though  reafon,  when  fully  affifled  and  im- 
proved, be  fufficient  to  inflrud;  us  in  the  pernici- 
ous or  ufcful  tendency  of  qualities  and  actions  ; 
it  is  not  alone  fufficient  to  produce  any  moral  blame 
or  approbation.  Utility  is  only  a  tendency  to  a 
certain  end;  and  were  the  end  totally  indifferent  to 
us,  we  ihould  feel  the  fame  indifference  towards 
the  means.  It  is  requifite  ^.Jentiment  fliould  here 
difplay  itfelf,  in  order  to  give  a  preference  to  the 
ufeful  above  the  pernicious  tendencies.  This  fen- 
ment  can  be  no  other  than  a  feeling  for  the  hap- 
pinefs  of  mankind,  and  a  refentment  of  their  mife- 
ry ;  lince  thefe  are  the  different  ends  which  virtue 
and  vice  have  a  tendency  to  promote.  Here, 
therefore,  reajcn  inllrudls  us  in  the  feveral  tenden- 
cifs  of  actions,  and  humanity  makes  a  diftindlion 
in  favour  of  thofe  which  are  ufcful  and  beneficial. 

This 


Concerning  Moral   Sentiment.         339 

This  partition  between  the  faculties  of  under- 
ftanding  and  fentiment,  in  all  moral  decifions,  Teems 
clear  from  the  preceding  hypothefis.  But  I  fnall 
fuppofe  that  hypothefis  falfe  :  It  will  then  be  re- 
quifiteto  look  out  for  fome  other  theory,  that  may 
be  fatisfadiory  ;  and  I  dare  venture  to  affirm,  that 
none  fuch  will  ever  be  found,  fo  long  as  we  fuppofe 
realbn  to  be  the  fole  fource  of  morals.  To  prove 
this,  it  will  be  proper  to  weigh  the  five  following 
confiderations. 

I.  It  is  eafy  for  a  falfe  hypothefis  to  maintain 
fome  appearance  of  truth,  while  it  keeps  wholly  in 
generals,  makes  ufe  of  undefined  terms,  and  em- 
ploys comparifons,  inftead  of  inftances.  This  is 
particulaily  remarkable  in  that  phwofophy,  which 
afcribes  the  difcernment  of  all  moral  diftinctions  to 
reafon  alone,  without  the  concurrence  of  fentiment. 
It  is  impolnble  that,  in  any  particular  inilance, 
this  hypothefis  can  fo  much  as  be  rendered  intelli- 
gible; whatever  fpecious  figure  it  may  make  in  ge- 
neral declamations  and  difcourfts.  Examine  the 
crime  of  ingratitude,  for  infiance  ;  which  has  place, 
wherever  we  obferve  good -will,  cxprelfed  and 
known,  together  with  good-olfices  performed,  on 
the  one  fide,  and  a  refurn  of  ill-will  or  indiffe- 
rence, with  ill-olfices  or  neglect  on  the  other : 
Anatomize  all  thefe  circumflances,  and  examine, 
by  your  reafon  alone,  in  what  confirts  the  demerit 
or  blame  :  You  never  will  come  to  any  ifTue  or 
conclufion. 

Reafon  judges  either  of  matter  of  fciEl  or  of 
relations.  Enquire  then,  firfi,  where  is  that  mat- 
ter of  fatSl:,  which  we  here  call  crime;  point  it  out  j 
determine  the  time  of  its  exiftence  ;  defcribe  its 
eiTence  or  nature  ;  explain  the  fenfc  or  faculty,  to 
which  it  difcovers  itfelf-  It  refiaes  in  the  mind  of 
the  perfon,  who  is  ungratefu].  He  mufl,  there- 
fore, feel  iL,    and  be  confcious  of  it.     But  nothing 

Z  2  is 


340  APPENDIX      I. 

is  there,  except  the  paffion  of  ill-will  or  abfolute 
indifference.  You  cannot  fay,  thatthefe,  ofthem- 
felves,  always,  and  in  all  circiimftances  are  crimes. 
No:  They  are  only  crimes,  when  direfled  towards 
perfons,  who  have  before  exprelTed  and  difplayed 
good-will  towards  us.  Confequently,  we  may  in- 
fer, that  the  crime  of  ingratitude  is  not  any  parti- 
cular individual /(3^;  but  arifes  from  a  complica- 
tion of  circumflances,  which,  being  prefented  to 
the  fpe6lator,  excites  the  fenlimeni  of  blame,  by  the 
particular  ftrutlure  and  fabric  of  his  mind. 

This  reprefentation,  you  fay,  is  falfe.  Crime, 
indeed,  confifc  not  in  a  particular /^^?,  of  whofe 
reality  we  are  alTured  by  reajon:  But  it  confiils  in 
certain  moral  relations^  difcovered  by  reafon,  in 
the  fam.e  manner  as  we  difcover,  by  reafon,  the 
truths  of  geometry  or  algebra.  But  what  are  the 
relations,  I  aflc,  of  which  you  here  talk?  In  the 
cafe  ftated  above,  I  fee  firft  good-will  and  good- 
oifices  in  one  perfon ;  then  ill-will  and  ill-offices 
in  the  other.  Between  thefe,  there  is  the  relation 
of  contrariety.  Does  the  crime  confift  in  that  re- 
lanon  ?  But  fuppofe  a  perfon  bore  me  ill-will  or 
did  me  ill-ofnces  -,  and  I,  in  return  were  indifferent 
towards  hiin,  or  did  him  good-ofiices  :  Here  is 
f.Jie  fame  rclat:ic;n  of  contrariety  j  and  yet  my  con- 
ilucl  is  often  highly  laudable.  Twift  and  turn  this 
matter  as  much  as  you  will,  you  can  never  reft  the 
morality  on  relation  ;  but  muft  have  recouri'c  to 
the  decifions  of  fentiment. 

"When  it  is  affirmed,  that  two  and  three  are 
cqnal  to  the  half  of  ten  j  this  relation  of  equality, 
I  iindcrftand  jjerfe6tly.  I  conceive,  that  if  ten  be 
divided  into  two  parts,  of  which  one  has  as  many 
rnits  as  the  other ;  and  if  any  of  thefe  parts  be 
compared  to  two  added  to  three,  it  will  contain  as 
mi.ny  units  as  that  compound  number.  But  when 
you  draw  thence  a  comparifon  to  moral  relations, 
I  own  that  1  am  altos;ether  at  a  lols  to  underfland 

you. 


Concerning    Moral  Sentiment.         341 

you.  A  moral  action,  a  crime,  fuch  as  ingratitude, 
is  a  complicated  objecl.  Does  the  mora'ity  confift 
in  the  relation  of  its  parts  to  each  other.  How  ? 
After  what  manner  ?  Specify  the  relation  :  Be  more 
particular  and  explicit  in  your  propofitions ;  and 
you  will  eafily  fee  their  falfehood. 

No,  fay  you,  the  morality  confiRs  in  the  relation 
of  aftions  to  the  rule  of  right ;  and  they  are  de- 
nominated good  or  ill,  according  as  they  agree  or 
difagree  with  it.  Wh.it  then  is  this  rule  of  right  ? 
In  what  does  it  confill  ?  How  is  it  determined  ? 
By  reafon,  you  fiiy,  which  examines  the  moral  re- 
lations of  actions.  So  that  moral  relations  are  de- 
termined by  the  comparifon  of  adions  to  a  rule. 
And  that  rule  is  determined  by  confidering  the 
moral  relations  of  objefts.     Is  not  this  fine  reafon- 

All  this  is  metaphyfics,  you  cry :  That  is  e- 
nough  :  There  needs  nothing  more  to  give  a 
ftrong  prefumption  of  falfehood.  Yes,  reply  I  : 
Here  are  metaphyfics  furely  :  But  they  are  all  on 
your  fide,  who  advance  an  abflrufe  hypothefis, 
which  can  never  be  made  intelligible,  nor  quadrate 
with  any  particular  inftance  or  illuftration.  The 
hypothefis  which  we  embrace  is  plain.  It  main- 
tains, that  morality  is  determined  by  fentiment. 
It  defines  virtue  to  be  whatever  mental  acl'ion  or 
quality  gives  to  a  Jpeofator  the  pleafmg  fentiment  of 
approbation ;  and  vice  the  contrary.  We  then 
proceed  to  examine  a  plain  matter  of  fafl,  to  wit, 
what  actions  have  this  influence:  We  confider  all 
the  circumflances,  in  which  thefe  aflions  agree  : 
And  thence  endeavour  to  extraft  fome  general  ob- 
fervations  with  regard  to  thefe  fentiments.  If  you 
call  this  metaphyfics,  and  find  any  thing  abftrufe 
here,  you  need  only  conclude,  that  your  turn  of 
mind  is  not  fuitcd  to  the  moral  fciences. 

II.  When  a  man,  at  any  time,  deliberates  con- 
cerning his  own  condu6t  (as,  whether  he  had  bet- 


342        A    P    P    E    N    D    I    X      I. 

ter,  in  a  particular  emergence,  ailill  a  brother  or  a 
benefadtor),  he  mud  confiacr  thefe  fepar-^te  relati- 
ons, with  all  the  circiimftances  and  fiiuations  of 
the  perfons,  in  order  to  deccrfniiie  the  fup'srior  du- 
ty and  obligation  :  And  in  order  to  determine  the 
proportion  of  lines  in  any  triangle,  it  is  necefiary 
to  examine  the  nature  of  that  figure,  and  the  rela- 
tions which  its  feveral  parts  bear  to  eat  h  other. 
But  notwithftanding  this  appearing  fimilarity  in  the 
two  cafes,  there  is,  at  bottom,  an  extreme  diffe- 
rence between  them.  A  fpcculative  reafoner  con- 
cerning triangles  or  circles  confiders  the  Tev-e'ral 
known  and  given  relations  of  the  parts  of  thefe 
figures  ;  and  thence  infers  fome  unknown  relati- 
on, which  is  dependent  on  the  former.  Bu  in 
inoral  deliberations,  we  mufb  be  acquainted,  be- 
fore-hand, with  all  the  objects,  and  all  their  rela- 
tions to  each  other  j  and  from  a  comparifon  of  the 
whole,  fix  our  choice  or  approbation.  No  new 
faft  to  be  afcertained  :  No  new  relation  to  bedif- 
covered.  All  the  circumftances  of  the  cafe  are 
fuppofed  to  be  laid  before  us,  ere  we  can  fix  any 
fentence  of  blame  or  approbation.  If  any  material 
circumftance  be  yet  unknown  or  doubtful,  we  mufl 
firft  employ  our  enquiry  or  intellectual  faculties  to 
alTure  us  of  it^  and  muft  fufpend  for  a  time  all 
moral  decifion  or  fentiment.  While  we  are  ie-no- 
rant,  whether  a  man  were  ae2;reflbr  or  not,  how 
can  we  determine  whether  the  perfon  who  killed 
him,  be  criminal  or  innocent  ?  But  after  every 
circumftance,  every  relation  is  known,  the  under- 
llandipg  has  no  farther  room  to  operate,  nor  any 
object  on  which  it  could  employ  itfelf.  The  ap- 
probation or  blame,  which  then  enfues,  cannot  be 
the  work  of  the  judgment,  but  of  the  heart;  and 
is  not  a  fptculative  propofition  or  affirmation,  but 
an  aftive  feeling  or  fentiment.  In  the  difquifiions 
of  the  underftanding,  from  known  circumftances 
and  relations,  \ye  infer  fome  new  and  unknown.    In 

I  moral 


CohfCERM.vG  Moral  Sentiment.         343 

moral  dccifions,  all  the  circumftances  and  relations 
mull  be  previoiiQy  known  j  and  the  mind,  from 
the  contemplation  of  the  whole,  feels  feme  new  iin- 
prellion  of  afFcdlion  or  difgufl,  efteem  or  contempt, 
approbation  or  blame. 

Hence  the  great  difference  between  a  m.iftake  of 
fa^  and  one  of  right  \  and  hence  the  reafon  why 
the  one  is  commonly  criminal  and  not  the  other. 
When  CEdipus  killed  Laius,  he  was  ignor;int  of 
the  relation,  and  from  circumftances,  innocent  and 
involuntary,  formed  erroneous  opinions  concerning 
the  aflion  which  he  committed.  But  when  Nero 
killed  Agrippina,  all  the  relations  between  himfelf 
and  the  perfon,  and  all  the  circumftances  of  the 
fa<5l,  were  prcvioufly  known  to  him  :  But  the  mo- 
tive of  revenge,  or  fear,  or  intereft,  prevailed  in 
his  favage  heart  over  the  fentiments  of  duty  and 
humanity.  And  when  we  exprefs  that  deteftation 
againft  him,  to  which  he,  himfelf,  in  a  little  time, 
became  infenfible  j  it  is  not,  that  we  fee  any  rela- 
tions, of  which  he  was  ignorant  j  but  that,  from 
the  reditude  of  our  difpofition,  we  feel  fentiments, 
againft  which  he  was  hardened,  from  flattery  and  a 
long  perfeverance  in  the  moll  enormous  crimes. 
In  thefe  fentiments,  then,  not  in  a  difcovery  of  re-v 
lations  of  any  kind,  do  all  moral  determinations 
confift.  Before  we  can  pretend  to  form  any  deci- 
fion  of  this  kind,  every  thing  muft  be  known  and 
afcertained  on  the  fide  of  the  objector  adion.  No- 
thing remains  but  to  feel,  on  our  part,  fome  fenti- 
ment  of  blame  or  approbation ;  whence  we  pro- 
nounce the  action  criminal  or  virtuous. 

III.  This  doctrine  will  become  ftill  more  evi- 
dent, if  we  compare  moral  beauty  with  natural,  to 
which,  in  many  particulars,  it  bears  fo  near  a  re- 
femblance.  It  is  on  the  proportion,  relation,  and 
pofition  of  parts,  that  all  natural  beauty  depends  j 
but  it  would  be  abfurd  thence  to  infer,  that  the 
perception  of  beauty,  like  that  of  truth  in  geome- 
trical 


J44         APPENDIX      I. 

trical  problems,  confifts  wholly  in  the  perception 
of  relations,  and  was  performed  entirely  by  the 
underftanding  or  intelledual  faculties.  In  all  the 
fciences,  our  mind,  from  the  known  relations,  in- 
veftigates  the  unknown  :  But  in  all  decifions  of  tafte 
or  external  beauty,  all  the  relations  are  before-hand 
obvious  to  the  eye  ;  and  we  thence  proceed  to  feel  a 
fentiment  of  complacency  or  difguft,  according  to 
the  nature  of  the  objeft,  and  difpofition  of  our  or- 
gans. 

Euclid  has  fully  explained  all  the  qualities  of  the 
circle ;  but  has  not,  in  any  propofition,  faid  a  word 
of  its  beauty  The  reafon  is  evident.  The  beauty 
is  not  a  quality  of  the  circle.  It  lies  not  in  any 
part  of  the  line,  whofe  parts  are  equally  diftant  from 
a  common  center.  It  is  only  the  efFecft,  which  that 
figure  produces  upon  the  rriind,  whofe  peculiar  fa- 
bric or  ftructure  renders  it  fufceptible  of  furh  fen- 
timents.  In  vain  would  you  look  for  it  in  the  cir- 
cle, or  feek  it,  either  by  your  fenfes  or  by  mathe- 
matical reafonings,  in  all  the  properties  of  that 
figure. 

Attend  to  Palladio  and  Perrault,  while  they  ex- 
plain all  the  parts  and  properties  of  a  pillar  i  They 
talk  of  the  cornice  and  frieze  and  bafe  and  entabla- 
ture and  fhaft  and  architrave;  and  give  the  dcfcrip- 
tion  and  pofition  of  each  of  thefe  members.  But 
fhould  you  aflc  the  defcription  and  pofition  of  its 
beauty,  they  would  readily  reply,  that  the  beauty 
is  not  in  any  of  the  parts  or  members  of  a  pillar, 
but  refults  from  the  whole,  when  that  complicated 
figure  is  prcfcntcd  to  an  intelligent  m.ind,  fufcepti- 
ble to  thofe  finer  fenfations.  'Till  fuch  a  fpedta- 
tor  appear,  there  is  nothing  but  a  figure  of  fuch 
particular  dimenfions  and  proportions:  From  his 
fentiments  alone  arife  its  elegance  and  beauty. 

Again  ;  attend  to  Cicero,  while  he  paints  the 
crimes  of  a  Verrcs  or  a  Catiline  -,  you  mufl  acknow- 
ledge that  the  moral  turpitude  refults,  in  the  fame 

manner. 


Concerning   Moral  Sentiment.         345 

manner,  from  the  contemplation  of  the  whole, 
■when  prefented  to  a  being,  whole  organs  have  fucll 
a  particular  itrufture  and  formation.  The  orator 
may  paint  rage,  infolcnce,  barbarity  on  the  one 
fide:  Meeknels,  fuffering,  forrow,  innocence  oit 
the  other:  But  if  you  feel  no  indignation  or  com- 
panion aril'e  in  you  from  this  complication  of  cir- 
cumliances,  you  would  in  vain  afk  him.  in  what 
confills  the  crime  or  villany,  which  he  fo  vehe- 
mently exclaims  againft  :  At  what  time,  or  on  what 
fubjecfV  it  firft  began  to  exift:  And  what  has  a  few 
months  afterwards  become  of  it,  when  every  dif- 
pofition  and  thought  of  all  the  acftors  is  totally  al- 
tered, or  annihilated.  No  fatisfadlory  anfwer  can 
be  given  to  any  of  thefe  queftions,  upon  the  ab- 
ftrad:  hypothecs  of  morals  -,  and  we  muft  at  laft 
acknowledge,  that  the  crime  or  immorality  is  no 
particular  fadl  or  relation,  which  can  be  the  objed 
of  the  underftanding  :  But  arifes  entirely  from  the 
fentiment  of  difapprobation,  which,  by  the  ftruc- 
ture  of  human  nature,  we  unavoidably  feel  on  the 
apprehenfion  of  barbarity  or  treachery. 

JV.  Inanimate  objects  may  bear  to  each  other  all 
the  fame  relations,  which  we  obferve  in  moral 
agents  :  though  the  former  can  never  be  the  ob- 
je6l  of  love  or  hatred,  nor  are  confequently  fuf- 
ceptible  of  merit  or  iniquity.  A  young  tree,  which 
over-tops  and  deftroys  its  parentj  Hands  in  all  the 
fame  relations  with  Nero,  when  he  murdered 
Agrippina;  and  if  morality  confiiled  merely  in  re- 
lations,  would,  no  doubt,  be  equally  criminal. 

V.  It  appears  evident,  that  the  ultimate  ends  of 
human  actions  can  never,  in  any  cafe,  be  account- 
ed for  by  rea/o?iy  but  recommend  themfelves  en- 
tirely to  the  lentiments  and  afFed:ions  of  mankind, 
without  any  dependance  on  the  intelled:ual  facul- 
ties. Afl<:  a  man,  zvhy  be  iijes  exercijes  ;  he  will  an- 
fwer, becaiife  he  defires  to  keep  his  health.  If  you 
then  enquire,  i^hy  he  defires  health,  he  will  readily 

reply. 


346  APPENDIX      I. 

reply,  hecaiije  ficknefs  is  painful.  If  you  pufh  your 
enquiries  farther,  and  defire  a  reafon,  why  he  hates 
pairii  it  is  impofTible  he  can  ever  give  any.  This 
is  an  ultimate  end,  and  is  never  referred  to  any 
other  objeft. 

Perhaps,  to  your  fecond  quefcion,  why  he  defires 
healthy  he  may  alfo  reply,  that  //  is  necejfary  for  the 
exercije  of  his  calling.  If  you  afk,  why  he  is  anxious 
on  that  heady  he  will  anfwer,  hecaiife  he  defires  to  get 
money,  if  you  demand  Why  ?  It  is  the  inflrument 
of  p  leaf  are  J  fays  he.  And  beyond  this  it  is  an  ab- 
furdity  to  afk  for  a  reafon.  It  is  impoflible  there 
can  be  a  progrefs  in  infinitum  j  and  that  one  thing 
can  always  be  a  reafon,  why  another  is  defired. 
Something  muft  be  defirable  on  its  own  account, 
and  becaufe  of  its  immediate  accord  or  agreement 
with  human  fentiment  and  affe6lion. 

Now  as  virtue  is  an  end,  and  is  defirable  on  its 
own  account,  without  fee  or  reward,  merely,  for  the 
immediate  fatisfaftion  which  it  conveys ;  it  is  re- 
quifite  that  there  fhould  be  fome  fentiment,  which 
it  touches ;  fome  internal  tafte  or  feeling,  or  what- 
ever you  pleafe  to  call  it,  which  diftinguifhes  mor- 
al good  and  evil,  and  which  embraces  the  one  and 
rejects  the  other. 

Thus  thediftinfl  boundaries  and  offices  g(  reafon 
and  of  tajle  are  eafily  afcertained.  The  former  con- 
veys the  knowledge  of  truth  and  falfehood :  The 
latter  gives  the  fentiment  of  beauty  and  deformity, 
vice  and  virtue.  The  one  difcovers  objects,  as 
they  really  ftand  in  nature,  without  addition  or 
diminution  :  The  other  has  a  productive  faculty, 
and  gilding  or  itaining  all  natural  objedls  with  the 
colours,  borrowed  from  internal  fentiment,  raifes, 
in  a  manner,  a  new  creation.  Reafon,  being  cool 
and  difengaged,  is  no  motive  to  adlion,  and  diredls 
only  the  impulfe  received  from  appetite  or  inclina- 
tion, by  fliowing  us  the  means  of  attaining  happi- 
nefs  or  avoiding  mifery  :  Tafte,  as  it  gives  plea- 
fur  e 


Concerning  Moral  Sentiment.         347 

fure  or  pain,  and  thereby  conn:irutes  happinefs  or 
niirery,  becomes  a  motive  to  adlion,  and  is  the  firit 
fpring  or  impulfe  to  defire  and  volition.  From 
circumflances  and  relations,  known  or  fuppofcd, 
the  former  leads  us  to  the  difcovery  of  the  conceal- 
ed and  unknown  :  After  all  circumftances  and  rela- 
tions are  laid  before  us,  the  latter  makes  us  feel 
from  the  whole  a  new  fentiment  of  blame  or  ap- 
probation. The  ftandard  of  the  one,  being  founded 
on  the  nature  of  things,  is  eternal  and  inflexible, 
even  by  the  will  of  the  Supreme  Being:  The  Itan- 
dard  of  the  other,  arifing  from  the  internal  frame 
and  conftitution  of  animals,  is  ultimately  derived 
from  that  Supreme  Will,  which  bellowed  on  each 
being  its  peculiar  nature,  and  arranged  the  feveral 
claflcs  and  orders  of  exiftence. 


A  P' 


(    349    ) 


APPENDIX    11. 

Of  Self-love. 


T. 


HERE  is  a  principle,  fuppofed  to  prevail 
among  many,  which  is  utterly  incompatible  with  all 
virtue  or  moral  fentim.enti  and  as  it  can  proceed 
from  nothing  but  the  moft  depraved  difpofition,  fo 
in  its  turn  it  tends  ftill  further  to  encourage  thac 
depravity.  This  principle  is,  that  all  benevolence  is 
mere  hypocrify,  friendfhip  a  cheat,  public  fpirit' 
a  farce,  fidelity  a  fnare  to  procure  truft  and 
confidence  -,  and  that,  while  all  of  us,  at  bot- 
tom, purfue  only  our  private  intereft,  we  wear 
thefe  fair  difguifes,  in  order  to  put  others  off 
their  guard,  and  expofe  them  the  more  to  our 
wiles  and  machinations.  What  heart  one  mull:  be 
pofTeffed  of  who  profeflTes  fuch  principles,  and  who 
feels  no  internal  fentiment  that  belies  fo  pernicious 
a  theory,  it  is  eafy  to  imagine :  And  alfo,  what 
degree  of  affe6tion  and  benevolence  he  can  bear  to 
a  fpecies,  whom  he  reprefents  under  fuch  odious 
colours,  and  fuppofes  fo  little  fufceptible  of  gra- 
titude or  any  return  of  afi^edion.  Or  if  we  fhould 
not  afcribe  thefe  principles  wholly  to  a  corrupted 
heart,  we  muft,  at  lealt,  account  for  them  from 
the  moft  carelefs  and  precipitate  examination.  Su- 
perficial reafoners,  indeed,  obferving  many  falfe 
pretences  among  mankind,  and  feeling,  perhaps, 
no  very  ftrong  reftraint  in  their  own  difpofition, 
might  draw  a  general  and  a  hafty  conclufion,  that 

all 


3S0 


APPENDIX    II. 


all  is*  equally  corrupted,  and  that  inen,  different 
from  all  other  animals,  and  indeed  horn  all  other 
fpecies  of  exiftence,  admit  of  no  degree  of  good 
or  bad,  but  are,  in  every  inftance,  the  fame  crea- 
tures under  different  difguifes  and  appearances. 

There  is  another  principle,  fomewhat  refembling 
the  former  j  which  has  been  much  infilled  on  by 
philofophers,  and  has  been  the  foundation  of  many 
a  fyftem;  that,  whatever  affeftion  one  may  feel, 
or  imagine  feels  for  others,  no  paffion  is,  or  can  be 
difinterefted;  that  the  mod  dangerous  friendfhip, 
however  fincere,  is  a  modification  of  felf-love;  and 
that,  even  unknown  to  ourfelves,  we  feek  only  our 
own  gratification,  while  we  appear  the  moft  deep- 
ly engaged  in  fchhmes  for  the  liberty  and  happi- 
nefs  of  mankind.  By  a  turn  of  imagination,  by 
a  refinement  of  refileftion,  by  an  enthufiafm  of 
paflion,  we  feem  to  take  part  in  the  interefts  of 
others,  and  imagine  ourfelves  divefted  of  all  felfifh 
confiderations :  But,  at  bottom,  the  moft  generous 
patriot  and  moft  niggardly  mifer,  the  braveft  hero 
and  moft  abjeft  coward,  have,  in  every  adlion,  an 
equal  regard  to  their  own  happinefs  and  welfare. 

Whoever  concludes  from  the  feeming  tenden- 
cy of  this  opinion,  that  thofe,  who  make  profeffion 
of  it,  cannot  poffibly  feel  the  true  fentiments  of  be- 
nevolence, or  have  any  regard  for  genuine  virtue, 
will  often  find  himfelf,  in  practice,  very  much  mif- 
taken.  Probity  and  honour  were  no  ftrangers  to 
Epicurus  and  his  (eO:.  Atticus  and  Horace  feem 
to  have  enjoyed  from  nature,  and  cultivated  by  re- 
flexion, as  generous  and  friendly  difpofitions  as 
any  difciple  of  the  aufterer  fchools.  And  among 
the  modern,  Hobbes  and  Locke,  who  maintained 
the  felfifh  fyftem  of  morals,  lived  irreproachable 
lives i  though  the  former  lay  not  under  any  re- 
ftraintof  religion,  which  might  fupply  the  defects 
of  his  philofophy. 

An  Epicurean  or  a  Hobbift  readily  allows,  that 

there 


OFSelf-Love.  351 

there  is  fuch  a  thing  as  friendfhip  in  the  world, 
without  hypocrify  or  difguifej  though  he  may  at- 
tempt, by  a  philofophical  chymiftry,  to  refolve  the 
elements  of  this  pafTion,  if  I  may  fpeak,  into  thofe 
of  another,  and  explain  every  afFedion  to  be  felf- 
love,  twilled  and  moulded,  by  a  particular  turn 
of  imagination,  into  a  variety  of  appearances.  But 
as  the  fame  turn  of  imagination  prevails  not  in 
every  man,  nor  gives  the  fame  direQion  to  the  ori- 
ginal paflion ;  this  is  fufficient,  even  according  to 
the  felfifli  fyftem,  to  make  the  wideft  difference  in 
human  charatlers,  and  denominate  one  man  virtu- 
ous and  humane,  another  vicious  and  meanly  inte- 
refled.  I  efteem  the  man,  whofe  felf-love,  by 
whatever  means,  is  fo  direfted  as  to  give  him  a 
concern  for  others,  and  render  him  ferviceable  to 
fociety :  As  I  hate  or  defpife  him,  who  has  no  re- 
gard to  any  thing  beyond  his  own  gratifications 
and  enjoyments.  In  vain  would  you  fuggeft,  that 
thefe  characters,  though  feemingly  oppofite,  are, 
at  bottom,  the  fame,  and  that  a  very  inconfide- 
rable  turn  of  thought  forms  the  v/hole  difference 
between  them.  Each  chara6ter,  notwithftanding 
thefe  inconfiderable  differences,  appears  to  me,  in 
praftice,  pretty  durable  and  untranfmutable.  And 
I  find  not  in  this  more  than  in  other  fubjefts,  that 
the  natural  fentiments,  arifing  from  the  general  ap- 
pearances of  things,  are  eafily  deftroyed  by  fubtile 
refleclions  concerning  the  minute  origin  of  thefe 
appearances.  Does  not  the  lively,  chearful  colour 
of  a  countenance  infpire  me  with  complacency  and 
pleafure;  even  though  I  learn  from  philofophy, 
that  all  difference  of  complexion  arifes  from  the 
moll  minute  differences  of  thicknefs,  in  the  moll 
minute  parts  of  the  fkinj  by  means  of  which  a  fu- 
perficies  is  qualified  to  refle6l  one  of  the  original 
colours  of  light,  and  abforb  the  others  ? 

But   though  the    queflion,  concerning   the  uni- 
verfal  or   partial  felfifhnefs   of  man  be  not  fo  ma- 
terial, 


3s^  A   P    P   E    N   D   I    X    II. 

terial,  as  is  ufually  imagined,  to  morality  and 
pra6lice,  it  is  certainly  of  confequence  in  the  fpe- 
culative  fcience  of  human  nature,  and  is  a  pro- 
per objecSl  of  curiofity  and  enquiry.  It  may  not, 
therefore  be  unfuitable  in  this  place,  to  beftow  a 
few   refteftions  upon   it*. 

The  moll  obvious  objedlion  to  the  felfifh  hy- 
pothefis,  is,  that,  as  it  is  contrary  to  common 
feeling  and  our  mod  unprejudiced  notions,  there 
is  required  the  higheft  ftretch  of  philolbphy  to 
eftablilh  fo  extraordinary  a  paradox.  To  the 
moft  carelefs  obferver,  there  appear  to  be  fuch 
difpofitions  as  benevolence  and  generofity;  fuch 
-afteftions  as  love,  friendfhip,  companion,  grati- 
tude. Thefe  fentiments  have  their  caufes,  effects, 
objedts,  and  operations,  marked  by  common  lan- 
guage and  obfervation,  and  plainly  diftinguifhed 
from  thofe  of  the  felfifli  paflions.  And  as  this 
is  the  obvious  appearance  of  things,  it  muft  be 
admitted;  till  fome  hypothefis  be  difcovered, 
which,  by  penetrating  deper  into  human  nature, 
may  prove  the  former  affeftions  to  be  nothing 
but  modifications  of  the  latter.  All  attempts  of 
this  kind  have  hitherto  proved  fruitlefs,  and  feem 
to  have  proceeded  entirely,  from  the  love  oi  fim- 
flicityy  which  has  been  the  fource  of  much  falfe 
reafoning  in  philofophy.  I  fhall  not  here  enter 
into  any  detail  on  the  prefent  fubject.  Many 
able  philofophers  have  fliown  the  infuriiciency  of 
thefe  fyftems.  And  I  fhall  take  for  granted  what, 
I  believe,  the  fmalleft  refle6tion  will  make  evi- 
dent to  every  impartial  enquirer. 

But  the  nature  of  the  fubjedt  furnifhes  the 
ftrongeft  prefumption,  that  no  better  fyftem  will 
ever,  for  the  future,  be  invented,  in  order  to  ac- 
count for  the  origin  of  the  benevolent  from  the 
fclfifli  affedtions,  and  reduce  all  the  various  emo- 
tions 

•  See  NOTE  [OO]. 


OfSELF-LoVE.  J53 

tions  of  the  human  mind  to  a  perfedV  fimplici- 
ty.  The  cafe  is  not  the  fame  in  this  fjx^cies  of 
philofophy  as  in  phyfics.  Many  an  hypothefis 
in  nature,  contrary  to  firfl  appearances;  hEs  been 
fo'Jnd,  on  more  accurate  fcrutiny,  folid  and  fa- 
tisfadory.  Inftances  of  this  kind  are  lb  frequent, 
that  a  judicious,  as  well  as  witty  philofopher*, 
has  ventured  to  affirm,  if  there  be  more  than  one 
way,  in  which  any  phrenomenon  may  be  produc- 
ed, that  there  is  a  general  prefumption  for  its 
arifing  from  the  caufes,  which  are  the  leaft  ob- 
vious and  familiar.  But  the  prefumption  always 
lies  on  the  other  fide,  in  all  enquiries  concern- 
ing the  origin  of  our  paffions,  and  of  the  internal 
operations  of  the  human  mind.  The  fimpleft 
and  mod  obvious  caufe,  which  can  there  be  af- 
figned  for  any  phasnomenon,  is  probably  the  true 
one.  When  a  philofopher,  in  the  explication  of 
his  fyftem,  is  obliged  to  have  recourfe  to  fome 
very  intricate  and  refined  refleftions,  and  to  fup- 
pofe  them  eflential  to  the  produ6lon  of  any  paf- 
fion  or  emotion,  we  have  reafon  to  be  extreme- 
ly on  o.ir  guard  againft  fo  fallacious  an  hypo- 
thefis. I'he  affections  are  not  fufceptible  of  any 
imprcfTion  from  the  refinements  of  reafon  or  ima- 
gination j  and  it  is  always  found,  that  a  vigorous 
exertion  of  the  latter  faculties,  necefi^arily,  from 
the  narrow  capacity  of  the  human  mind,  deftroys 
all  a6tivity  in  the  former.  Our  predominant  mo- 
tive or  intention  is,  indeed,  frequently  concealed 
from  ourfelves,  when  it  is  mingled  and  confound- 
ed with  other  motives,  which  the  mind,  from  va- 
nity or  felf-conceit,  is  defirous  of  fuppofing  more 
prevalent:  But  there  is  no  inftance,  that  a  con- 
cealment of  this  nature  has  ever  arifen  from  the 
abftrufenefs  and  intricacy  of  the  motive.  A  man, 
that  has  loft  a  friend  and  patron,  may  flatter  him- 
felf,  that  ail  his  grief  arifes  from  generous  fenti- 
VoL.  II.  A  a  mcnts, 

*    Mof.     FONTENELIE. 


354  A  P   P   E   N   D   1   X    IL 

ments,  without  any  mixture  of  narrow  or  inte- 
refted  confiderations :  But  a  man,  that  grieves  for 
a  valuable  friend,  who  needed  his  patronage  and 
proteftionj  how  can  we  fuppofe,  that  his  paf- 
fionate  tendernefs  arifes  from  fome  metaphyfical 
regards  to  felf-intereft,  which  has  no  foundation 
or  reality  ?  We  may  as  well  imagine,  that  minute 
wheels  and  fprings,  like  thofe  of  a  watch,  give 
motion  to  a  loaded  waggon,  as  account  for  the 
origin  of  paflion  from  fuch  abftrufe  refledtions. 

Animals  are  found  fufceptible  of  kindnefs,  both 
to  their  own  fpecies  and  to  ours;  nor  is  there, 
in  this  cafe,  the  leail  fufpicion  of  difguife  or  ar- 
tifice. Shall  we  account  for  all  their  fentiments,  too, 
from  refined  deductions  of  felf-intereft  ?  Or  if  we 
admit  a  difinterefted  benevolence  in  the  inferior 
fpecies,  by  what  rule  of  analogy  can  we  refufe 
it  in  the  fuperior  ? 

Love  between  the  fexes  begets  a  complacency 
and  good-will,  very  diftinft  from  the  gratifica- 
tion of  appetite.  Tendernefs  to  their  offspring,  in 
all  fenfible  beings,  is  commonly  able  alone  to 
counter-balance  the  ftrongeft  motives  of  felf-love, 
and  has  no  manner  of  dependance  on  that  af- 
fedion.  What  intereft  can  a  fond  mother  have 
in  view,  who  lofes  her  health  by  affiduous  atten- 
dance on  her  fick  child,  and  afterwards  langulfhes 
and  dies  of  grief,  when  freed,  by  its  death,  from 
the  flavery  of  that  attendance  ? 

Is  gratitude  no  affedtion  of  the  human  breaft, 
or  is  that  a  word  merely,  without  any  meaning 
or  reality  ?  Have  we  no  fatisfaflion  in  one  man's 
company  above  another's  and  no  defire  of  the 
welfare  of  our  friend,  even  though  abfence  or 
death  fliould  prevent  us  from  all  participation  in 
it  ?  Or  what  is  it  commonly,  that  gives  us  any 
participation  in  it,  even  while  alive  and  prefent, 
but  our  atfedtion   and    regard   to  him  ? 

Thefe  and  a  thoufand  other  inftances  arc  marks 

of 


OFSelf-Love.  355 

of  a  general  benevolence  in  human  nature,  where 
no  real  intcreft  binds  us  to  the  objeft.  And 
how  an  imaginary  inrereft,  known  and  avowed  for 
fuch,  can  be  the  origin  of  any  paflion  or  emo- 
tion, feems  difficult  to  explain.  No  fatisfaftory 
hypothefis  of  this  kind  has  yet  been  difcovered  j 
nor  is  there  the  fmalleft  probability,  that  the 
future  indiiftry  of  men  will  ever  be  attended  with 
more   favourable  fuccefs. 

But  farther,  if  we  confidcr  rightly  of  the  mat- 
ter, we  fhall  find,  that  the  hypothefis,  which  al- 
lows of  a  difinterelled  benevolence,  diftindl  from 
fclf-!ove,  has  really  v[\ovt  ftmplicity  in  it,  and  is  more 
conformable  to  the  analogy  of  nature,  than  that 
which  pretends  to  refolve  all  friendfhip  and  hu- 
manity into  this  latter  principle.  There  are  bo- 
dily wants  or  appetites,  acknowledged  by  every 
one,  which  neceffarily  precede  all  fenfual  enjoy- 
ment, and  carry  us  dire6tly  to  feek  pofleflion  of 
the  objedl.  Thus,  hunger  and  thirft  have  eating 
and  drinking  for  their  end;  and  from  the  gra- 
tification of  thefe  primary  appetites  arifes  a  plea- 
fure,  which  may  become  the  objed  of  another 
fpecies  of  defire  or  inclination,  that  is  feconda- 
ry  and  intereiled.  In  the  fame  manner,  there 
are  mental  pafllons,  by  which  we  are  impelled 
immediately  to  feek  particular  objefts,  fuch  as 
fame,  or  power,  or  vengeance,  without  any  re- 
gard to  intereft;  and  when  thefe  objeds  are  at- 
tained, a  pleafing  enjoyment  enfues,  as  the  con- 
fequence  of  our  indulged  affections,  .  Nature  muft, 
by  the  internal  frame  and  conftitution  of  the 
mind,  give  an  original  propenfity  to  fame,  ere 
we  can  reap  any  pleafure  from  that  acquifition, 
or  purfue  it  from  motives  offelf-love,  and  a  de- 
fire of  happincfs.  If  I  have  no  vanity,  I  take 
no  delight  in  praife :  If  I  be  void  of  ambition, 
power  gives  me  no  enjoyment :    If  I  be  not  an- 

A  a  2  gry. 


356  APPENDIX    II. 

gry,  the  punifhment  of  an  adverfary  is  totally  in- 
different to  me.  In  all  thefe  cafes,  there  is  a 
palTion,  v/hich  points  immediately  to  the  object, 
and  conftitutes  it  our  good  orhappinefsj  as  there 
are  other  fecondary  paffions,  which  afterwards 
ariie,  and  piirfue  it  as  a  part  of  our  happinefs, 
when  once  it  is  conft  ><iteu  fuch  by  our  origi- 
nal affections.  Were  no  appetite  of  any  kind 
antecedent  to  felf-lovc,  that  propenfity  could 
fcarcely  ever  exert  itfelf;  becaufe  we  fhould,  in 
that  cafe,  have  felt  few  and  flender  pains  or 
pleafures,  and  have  little  mifery  or  happinefs  to 
avoid  or  to  purfiie. 

Now  where  is  the  difficulty  in  conceiving,  that 
this  may  likewife  by  the  cafe  with  benevolence 
and  friendfhip,  and  that,  from  the  original  frame 
of  our  temper,  we  may  feel  a  defire  of  ano- 
ther's happinefs  or  good,  which,  by  means  of 
that  affetftion,  becomes  our  own  good,  and  is 
afterwards  purfued,  from  the  combined  motives 
of  benevolence  and  felf-enjoyment  r  Who  fees  not 
that  vengeance,  from  the  force  alone  of  paffion, 
may  be  fo  eagerly  j^urfued,  as  to  make  us  know- 
ingly negleft  every  confideration  of  eafe,  or  fafe- 
ty  J  and,  like  fome  vindictive  animals,  infufe  our 
very  fouls  into  the  w^ounds  we  give  an  enemy*? 
And  what  a  malignant  philofophy  mud  it  be,  that 
will  not  allow,  to  humanity  and  fiiendfnip,  the 
fame  privileges,  which  are  undifputably  granted 
ro  the  darker  pafiions  of  enmity  and  refentment  ? 
Such  a  philoiophy  is  more  like  a  fatyr  than  a 
true  delineation  or  defcription  of  human  nature} 
and  may  be  a  good  foundation  for  paradoxical 
wit  and  raillery,  but  is  a  very  bad  one  for  any 
ferious    argument  or  reafoning. 

APPENDIX 


*   Animcfque  in  vulnere  ponur.t.  ViRC. 

Diini   altc'ii  noceat,  lui    negligens,  fays    Seneca  of  Atiger^ 
De  Ira,  I.  i. 


(    357     ) 


APPENDIX     III. 


Some  farther  Considerations  with  regard 
to  Justice. 


Ti 


HE  intention  of  this  Appendix  is  to  give  feme 
more  particular  explication  of  the  origin  and  na- 
ture of  Juftice,  and  to  mark  fome  differences  bc' 
tween  it  and  the  other  virtues. 

The  focial  virtues  of  humanity  and  benevo- 
lence exert  their  influence  immediately,  by  a  di- 
red:  tendency  or  inftinft,  which  chiefly  keeps  in 
view  the  fimple  objedl,  moving  the  affections, 
and  comprehends  not  any  fcheme  or  fyftem,  nor 
the  confequences  refulting  from  the  concurrence, 
imitation,  or  example  of  others.  A  parent  flies  to 
the  relief  of  his  child  j  tranfported  by  that  natu- 
ral fympathy,  which  a(ftuates  him,  and  which  af- 
fords no  leifure  to  reflect  on  the  fentiments  or 
conduft  of  the  refl:  of  mankind  in  like  circum- 
ftances.  A  generous  man  chearfully  embraces  an 
opportunity  of  ferving  his  friend  ;  becaufe  he  then 
feels  himfelf  under  the  dominion  of  the  beneficent 
affe6tions,  nor  is  he  concerned  whether  any  other 
perfon  in  the  univerfe  were  ever  before  a<5luated 
by  fuch  noble  motives,  or  will  ever  afterwards 
prove  their  influence.  In  all  thefe  cafes,  the  fo- 
cial paflions  have  in  view  a  fingle  individual  ob- 
je6t,  and  purfue  the  fafety  or   happinefs  alone  of 

the 


;558         APPENDIX     III. 

the  perfon  loved  and  efteemed.  With  this  they 
are  fatisfied :  In  this,  they  acquiefce.  And  as 
the  good,  refulting  from  their  benign  influence, 
is  in  itfelf  compleat  and  entire,  it  alio  excites  the 
moral  fentiment  of  approbation,  without  any  re- 
flefbion  on  farther  confequences,  and  without  any 
more  enlarged  views  of  the  concurrence  or  imi- 
tation of  the  other  members  of  fociety.  On  the 
contrary,  were  the  generous  friend  or  difinterefted 
patriot  to  ftand  alone  in  the  pradtice  of  beneficence; 
this  would  rather  inhance  his  value  in  our  eyes, 
and  join  the  praife  of  rarity  and  novelty  to  his 
other  more  exalted  merits. 

The  cafe  is  not  the  fame  with  the  fecial  virtues 
of  juftice    and  fidelity.     They   are  highly  ufeful, 
or  indeed  abfolutely  neceflfary  to  the  well-being  of 
mankind  :    But  the  benefit,  refulting  from  them, 
is  not  the  confequence  of  every   individual  fingle 
a6t;  but  arifes   form  the  whole  fcheme  or  fyftem, 
concurred  in  by  the  whole,  or  the  greater  part  of 
the  fociety.     General  peace  and  order  are  the  at- 
tendants of  juftice  or  a  general  abftinence  from  the 
poflfeffions  of  others :    But  a  particular   regard  to 
the  particular  right  of  one  individual  citizen  may 
frequently,  confidered  in  itfelf,    be   produdive  of 
pernicious  confequences.     The  refult  of  the  indi- 
vidual a6l:s  is  here,  in  many  inftances,  directly  op- 
pofite  to  that  of  the  whole  fyftem  of  aftions ;  and 
the  former   may   be  extremely  hurtful,  while  the 
latter    is,    to   the    higheft  degree,    advantageous. 
Riches,    inherited   from   a  parent,    are,    in  a   bad 
man's  hand,  the  inftrument  of  mifchief.     The  right 
of  fucceffion  may,  in  one  inftance,  be  hurtful.     Its 
benefit  arifes   only  from  the  obfervance  of  the  ge- 
neral   rule;  and  it  is  fufficient,  if  compcnfation  be 
thereby   made  for    all   the    ills    and    inconvenien- 
cies,    which  flow  from   particular  characters   and 
fituations. 

Cyrus, 


Farther  Confiderations  with  regard  to  Jujiice.    359 

Cyrus,  young  and  unexperienced,  confidercd  on- 
ly the  individual  cafe  before  him,  and  reflefled 
on  a  limited  fitnefs  and  convenience,  when  he 
afflgned  the  long  coat  to  the  tall  boy,  and  the 
Ihort  coat  to  the  other  of  fmaller  fize.  His  go- 
vernor inftru<Sted  him  better;  while  he  pointed 
out  more  enlarged  views  and  confequences,  and 
informed  his  pupil  of  the  general,  inflexible  rules, 
neccffary  to  fupport  general  peace  and  order  in 
fociety. 

The  happinefs  and  profperity  of  mankind,  arif- 
ing  from  the  focial  virtue  of  benevolence  and  its 
fubdivifions,  may  be  compared  to  a  wall,  built  by 
many  hands;  which  ftill  rifes  by  each  (lone,  that 
is  heaped  upon  it,  and  receives  increafe  propor- 
tional to  the  diligence  and  care  of  each  workman. 
The  fame  happinefs,  raifed  by  the  focial  virtue  of 
juftice  and  its  fubdivifions,  may  be  compared  to  a 
building  of  a  vault,  where  each  individual  ftone 
would,  of  itfelf,  fall  to  the  ground ;  nor  is  the 
whole  fabric  fupported  but  by  the  mutual  aflift- 
ftance  and  combination  of  its  correfponding  parts. 

All  the  laws  of  nature,  which  regulate  property, 
as  well  as  all  civil  laws,  are  general,  and  regard 
alone  fome  elTential  circumftances  of  the  cafe,  with- 
out taking  into  confideration  the  charadlers,  fitua- 
tions,  and  connexions  of  the  perfon  concerned,  or 
any  particular  confequences  which  may  refult  from 
the  determination  of  thefe  laws,  in  any  particular 
cafe  which  offers.  They  deprive,  without  fcruple, 
a  beneficent  man  of  all  its  poflefTions,  if  acquired 
by  miftake,  without  a  good  title  j  in  order  to  be- 
ftow  them  on  a  fclfifh  mifer,  who  has  already 
heaped  up  immenfe  ftores  of  fuperfluous  riches. 
Public  utility  requires,  that  property  fhould  be 
regulated  by  general  inflexible  rules  ]  and  though 
fuch  rules  are  adopted  as  be(t  ferve  thie  fame  end 
of  public  utility,  it  is  impofllble  for  them  to  pre- 
vent all  particular   hardfliips,  or  make  beneficial 

confe- 


36o        APPENDIX      III. 

confequences  refult  from  every  individual  cafe.  It 
is  fufficient,  if  the  whole  plan  or  fcheme  be  necefiary 
to  the  fupport  of  civil  fociety,  and  if  the  balance 
of  good,  in  the  main,  do  thereby  preponderate 
much  above  that  of  evil.  Even  the  general  laws 
of  the  univerfe,  though  planned  by  infinite  wif- 
dom,  cannot  exclude  all  evil  or  inconvenience,  in 
every  particular  operation. 

It  has  been  afierted  by  fome,  that  juflice  arifes 
from  Human  Conventions,  and  proceeds  from 
the  voluntary  choice,  confent,  or  combination  of 
mankind.  If  by  convention  be  here  meant  a  pro- 
mije  (which  is  the  moft  ufual  fenfe  of  the  word) 
nothing  can  be  more  abfurd  than  this  pofition. 
The  obfervance  of  promifes  is  itfelf  one  of  the 
moft  confiderable  parts  of  jufticej  and  we  arc  not 
furely  bound  to  keep  our  word,  becaufe  we  have 
given  our  word  to  keep  it.  But  if  by  convention 
be  meant  a  {Qn(c  of  common  intereft;  which  fenfe 
each  man  feels  in  his  own  breaft,  which  he  re- 
marks in  his  fellows,  and  which  carries  him,  in 
concurrence  with  others,  into  a  general  plan  or 
fyftem  of  a<5lions,  which  tends  to  public  utility  ; 
it  muft  be  owned,  that,  in  this  fenfe,  juftice  arifes 
from  human  conventions.  For  if  it  be  allowed 
(what  is,  indeed,  evident)  that  the  particular  con- 
fequences of  a  particular  aft  of  juftice  may  be 
hurtful  to  the  public  as  well  as  to  individuals;  it 
follows,  that  every  man,  in  embracing  that  virtue, 
muft  have  an  eye  to  the  whole  plan  or  fyftem, 
and  muft  expedl  the  concurrence  of  his  fellows 
in  the  fame  condudt  and  behaviour.  Did  all  his 
views  terminate  in  the  confequences  of  each  aft 
of  his  own,  his  benevolence  and  humanitv,  as  well 
as  his  felf-love,  might  often  prelcribe  to  him  mea- 
fures  of  conduft  very  difterent  from  thofe,  which 
are  agreeable  to  the  ftrift  rules  of  right  and  juf- 
ftice. 

Thus 


Farther  Confiderations  with  regard  to  Jujlice.     2^  i 

Thus  two  men  pull  the  oars  of  a  boat  by  com- 
mon convention,  for  common  intereft,  without 
any  promife  or  contracfb  :  Thus  gold  and  fdver  are 
made  the  mcafurcs  of  exchange;  thus  fpeech  and 
words  and  language  are  fixed,  by  human  conven- 
tion and  ao;reement.  Whatever  is  advantageous 
to  two  or  more  perfons,  if  all  perform  their  part  i 
but  what  lofcs  all  advantage,  if  only  one  per- 
form, can  arife  from  no  other  principle.  There 
would  otherwife  be  no  motive  for  any  one  of  them 
to  enter  into  that  fcheme  of  condu<5l*. 

The  word,  natural^  is  commonly  taken  in  fo 
many  fenfes,  and  is  of  fo  looie  a  fignification,  that 
it  feems  vain  to  difpute,  whether  juftice  be  natu- 
ral or  not.  If  felf-love,  if  benevolence  be  natu- 
ral to  man  ;  if  reafon  and  forethought  be  alfo  na- 
tural ;  then  may  the  fame  epithet  be  applied  to 
juftice,  order,  fidelity,  property,  fociety.  Men's 
inclination,  their  neceflities  lead  them  to  combine; 
their  underftanding  and  experience  tell  them,  that 
this  combination  is  impoffible,  where  each  governs 
himfelf  by  no  rule,  and  pays  no  regard  to  the 
poflcfllons  of  others :  And  from  thefe  pafTions  and 
refle(5tions  conjoined,  as  foon  as  we  obferve  like 
paflions  and  reflections  in  others,  the  fentiment  of 
juftice,  throughout  all  ages,  has  infallibly  and 
certainly  had  place,  to  fome  degree  or  other,  in 
every  individual  of  the  human  fpecies.  In  fo  fa- 
gacious  an  animal,  what  neceffarily  arifes  from 
the  exertion  of  his  intelle6tual  faculties,  may  juft- 
ly  be  efteemed  natural  f . 

Among   all    civilized    nations,   it  has   been  the 
conftant   endeavour  to  remove   every   thing  arbi- 
trary and   partial    from    the    decifion  of  property, 
and   to  fix  the  fentence   of  judges  by  fuch  gene- 
ral 


•  See   NOTE  [PP.] 
t  Se«   NOTE  [Q9J. 


562  APPENDIX    III. 

ral  views  and  confiderations,  as  may  be  equal  to 
every  member  of  the  fociety.  For  befides,  that 
nothing  could  be  more  dangerous  than  to  ac- 
cuftom  the  bench,  even  in  the  fmalleft  inftance, 
to  regard  private  friendlhip  or  enmity  i  it  is  cer- 
tain, that  men,  where  they  imagine,  that  there 
•was  no  other  reafon  for  the  preference  of  their 
adverfary  but  perfonal  favour,  are  apt  to  enter- 
tain the  ftrongeft  ill-will  againfl  the  magiilrates 
and  judges.  When  natural  reafon,  therefore, 
points  out  no  fixed  view  of  public  utility,  by 
which  a  controverfy  of  property  can  be  decided, 
pofitive  laws  are  often  framed  to  fupply  its 
place,  and  dire6l  the  procedure  of  all  courts  of 
judicature.  Where  thefe  too  fail,  as  often  hap- 
pens, precedents  are  called  for;  and  a  former 
decifion,  though  given  itfelf  without  any  fufHci- 
ent  reafon,  juftly  becomes  a  fufficient  reafon  for 
a  new  decifion.  If  direft  laws  and  precedents 
be  wanting,  imperfect  and  indireft  ones  are 
brought  in  aid ;  and  the  controverted  cafe  is 
ranged  under  them,  by  analogical  reafonings  and 
comparifons,  and  fimilitudes,  and  correfponden- 
cies,  which  are  often  more  fanciful  than  real. 
In  general,  it  may  fafely  be  affirmed,  that  jurif- 
prudence  is,  in  this  refpedt,  different  from  all  the 
fciences;  and  that  in  many  of  its  nicer  queftions, 
there  cannot  properly  be  faid  to  be  truth  or  falfe- 
hood  on  either  fide.  If  one  pleader  bring  the 
cafe  under  any  former  law  or  precedent,  by  a  re- 
fined analogy  or  comparifon  j  the  oppofite  pleader 
is  not  at  a  lofs  to  find  an  oppofite  analogy  or  com- 
parifon :  And  the  preference  given  by  the  judge 
is  often  founded  more  on  tafte  and  imagination  than 
on  any  folid  argument.  Public  utility  is  the  general 
objed:  of  all  courts  of  judicature ;  and  this  uti- 
lity too  requires  a  ftabie  rule  in  all  controvcr- 
fies  :  But  where  fcveral  rules,  nearly  equal  and  in- 
different,   prefent  themfelves,    it  is  a  very  flight 

turn 


Farther  Conftderations  with  regard  to  Jufi'ue.    ;^6;^ 

turn  of  thought,  which  fixes  the  decifion  in  favour 
of  cither  party  *. 

We  may  juft  obferve,  before  we  conclude  this 
fubje(5l:,  that,  after  the  laws  of  jufticeare  fixed  by 
views  of  general  utility,  the  injury,   the  hardfhip, 
the  harm,   which  refult  to  any  individual  from  a 
violation  of  them,  enter  very  much  into  confidera- 
tion,  and  are  a  great  fource  of  that  univerfal  blame, 
which  attends  every  wrong  or  iniquity.      By  the 
laws  of  fociety,  this  coat,  this  horfe  is  mine,  and 
ought    to   remain  perpetually   in  my  pofieflion :  I 
reckon  on  the  fecure  enjoyment  of  it :   By  depriv- 
ing me  of  it,  you  difappoint  my  expectations,  and 
doubly  difpleafe  me,  and  offend  every  byftander. 
It  is  a  public  wrong,  fo  far  as  the  rules  of  equity 
are  violated  :   It  is  a  private  harm,  fo  far  as  an  in- 
dividual is  injured.     And  though  the  fecond  con- 
fideration  could  have  no  place,  were  not  the  former 
previoufly  eftabliflied  :  For  otherwife  thediftinftion 
of  mine  and  thine  would  be  unknown  in  fociety : 
Yet  there  is  no  queftion,  but  the  regard  to  general 
good  is  much  enforced  by  the  refpeft  to  particular. 
What  injures  the  community,  without  hurting  any 
individual,  is  often  more  lightly  thought  of.     But 
where  the  greateft  public  wrong  is  alfo  conjoined 
with   a   confiderable   private  one,  no  wonder   the 
higheft  difapprobation  attends  fo  iniquitous  a  beha- 
viour. 

•  Ske  N  O  T  E  [R  R]. 


(     349    ) 


APPENDIX    IV. 


Of  SOME  Verbal  Disputes. 

_^^  Othing  is  more  ufual  than   for   philofophers 
to   encroach  upon  the  province   of  grammarians; 
and  to  engage  in  difputes  of  words,  while   they 
imagine,    that  they  are  handling  controverfies   of 
the  deepeft  importance  and   concern.     It  was  in 
order  to  avoid   altercations,  fo  frivolous  and  end- 
lefs,  that  I   endeavoured  to  ftate  with  the  utmoft 
caution  the  objedlof  our  prefent  enquiry  ;  and  pro- 
pofed  fimply   to  colle6l  on  the  one  hand,  a  lift  of 
thofe  mental  qualities  which  are  the  objedl  of  love 
or  efteem,    and  form    a  part   of   perfonal   merit, 
and  on  the  other  hand,  a  catalogue  of  thofe  qua- 
lities, which  are  the  objeft  of  cenfure  or  reproach, 
and  which  detra6l   from   the  character  of  the  per- 
fon,  poflefled  of  them;    fubjoining  fome  reflecti- 
ons concerning  the   origin  of  thefe  fentiments  of 
praife  or  blame.      On   all  occafions,  where   there 
might    arife    the  leaft    hefitation,    I    avoided    the 
terms  virtue  and  vice ;  becaufe  fome  of  thofe  qua- 
lities, which  I  claflcd  among  the  objects  of  praife, 
receive,  in  the  Englifh  language,  the    appellation 
of  talentSy  rather  than  of  virtues  ;  as  fome  of  the 
blameable  or  cenfurable  qualities  are  often  called 
defe^Sy  rather  than  vices.     It  may  now,  perhaps, 
be  expedted,  thar,  before  we  conclude  this  moral 
enquiry,  we  fhould  exa6tiy   feparate  the  one  from 
the  other  -,  fliould  mark  the  precife  boundaries  of 

virtues 


366        A   P    P    E   N    D    I    X     IV. 

virtues  and  talents,  vices  and  defefbsj  and  fliould 
explain  the  reafon  and  origin  of  that  diftinftion. 
But  in  order  to  excufe  myfelf  fronn  this  under- 
taking, which  would,  at  laft,  prove  only  a  gram- 
matical enquiry,  I  fhall  fubjoin  the  four  following 
reflexions,  which  fhall  contain  all  that  I  intend  to 
fay  on  the  prefent  fubjeft. 

FirJ^j  1  do  not  find,  that  in  the  Englilh,  or  any 
other  modern  tongue,  the  boundaries  are  exad:ly 
fixed  between  virtues  and  talents,  vices  and  de- 
feats, or  that  a  precife  definition  can  be  given  of 
the  one  as  contradiftinguifhed  from  the  other. 
"Were  we  to  fay,  for  inftance,  that  the  efteemable 
qualities  alone,  which  are  voluntary,  are  entitled 
to  the  appellation  of  virtues  -,  we  fhould  foon  re- 
collect the  qualities  of  courage,  equanimity,  pati- 
ence, felf-command ;  with  many  others,  which  al- 
moft  every  language  clafles  under  this  appellation, 
though  they  depend  little  or  not  at  all  on  our  choice. 
Should  we  affirm,  that  the  qualities  alone,  which 
prompt  us  to  a<5t  our  part  in  fociety,  are  entitled 
to  that  honourable  diftindion  ;  it  muft  immediate- 
ly occur,  that  thefe  are  indeed  the  mod  valuable 
qualities,  and  are  commonly  denominated  the  fo- 
etal virtues  j  but  that  this  very  epithet  fuppofes, 
that  there  are  alfo  virtues  of  another  fpecies.  Should 
we  lay  hold  of  the  diftinftion  between  intelle^ual 
and  moral  endowments,  and  affirm  the  lall  alone  to 
be  the  real  and  genuine  virtues,  becaufe  they  alone 
lead  to  adion  j  we  fhould  find,  that  many  of  thofe 
qualities,  ufaally  called  intelledlual  virtues,  fuch 
as  prudence,  penetration,  difcernment,  dilbretion, 
had  alfo  a  confiderable  influence  on  condutl.  The 
diftindlion  between  the  heart  and  the  head  may 
alfo  be  adopted :  The  qualities  of  the  firfl:  may  be 
defined  fuch  as  in  their  immediate  exertion  are  ac- 
companied with  a  feeling  or  fentimentj  and  thefe 
alone  may  be  called  the  genuine  virtues:  But  in- 
duftry,    frugality,    temperance,    fecrecy,    perfeve- 

rance. 


Of  SOME  Verbal  Disputes.  367 

ranee,  and  many  other  laudable  powers  or  habits, 
generally  ftiled  virtues,  are  exerted  without  any 
immediate  fentiment  in  the  perfon  poflelTed  of  them ; 
and  arrc  only  known  to  him  by  their  effects.  It  is 
fortunate,  amidft  all  this  feeming  perplexity,  that 
the  qucftion,  being  merely  verbal,  cannot  poflibly 
be  of  any  importance.  A  moral,  philosophical 
difcourfe  needs  not  enter  into  all  thefe  caprices  of 
language,  which  are  fo  variable  in  different  dialeds, 
and  in  different  ages  of  the  fame  dialed.  But  on 
the  whole,  it  feems  to  me,  that,  though  it  is  always 
allowed,  that  there  are  virtues  of  many  different 
kinds,  yet  when  a  man  is  called  virtuous,  or  is  de- 
nominated a  man  of  virtue,  we  chiefly  regard  his 
focial  qualities,  which  are,  indeed,  the  moft  valu- 
able. It  is,  at  the  fame  time,  certain,  that  any  re- 
markable defed:  in  courage,  temperance,  cecono- 
my,  induftry,  underftanding,  dignity  of  mind, 
would  bereave  even  a  very  good-natured,  honeft 
man  of  this  honourable  appellation.  Who  did  ever 
fay,  except  by  way  of  irony,  that  fuch  a  one  was  a 
man  of  great  virtue,  but  an  egregious  blockhead.^ 

But,  fecondly,  it  is  no  wonder,  that  languages 
fliould  not  be  very  precife  in  marking  the  bounda- 
ries between  virtues  and  talents,  vices  and  defedls  ; 
fince  there  is  little  diftin6tion  made  in  our  internal 
eftimation  of  them.  It  feems  indeed  certain,  that 
t\iQ  fentiment  of  confcious  worth,  the  felf-fatisfadbion 
proceeding  from  a  review  of  a  man's  own  condu6t 
and  character  J  it  feems  certain,  1  fay,  that  this  fen- 
timent, which,  though  the  moft  common  of  all 
others,  has  no  proper  name  in  our  language  *,  arifes 
from  the  endowments  of  courage  and  capacity,  in- 
duftry and  ingenuity,  as  well  as  from  any  other 
mental  excellencies.  Who,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
not  deeply  mortified  with  refledling  on  his  own 
folly  and  diffolutenefs,  and  feels  not  a  fecret  fting 

Of 
•  See  NOTE  [SS], 


368        A    P    P    E    N    D    I    X      IV. 

or  compunftion,  whenever  his  memory  prefents  any 
pait  occurrence,  where  he  behaved  with  ftupidity 
or  ill-manners  ?  No  time  can  efface  the  cruel  ideas 
of  a  man's  own  foolilh  conduft^  or  of  affronts, 
which  cowardice  or  impudence  has  brought  upon 
him.  They  flill  haunt  his  folitary  hours,  damp  his 
moll  afpiring  thoughts,  and  fhew  him,  even  to 
himfelf,  in  the  moll  contemptible  and  moft  odious 
colours  imaginable. 

What  is  there  too  we  are  more  anxious  to  con- 
ceal from  others  than  fuch  blunders,  infirmities, 
and  meannelfes,  or  more  dread  to  have  expofed  by 
raillery  and  fatire  ?  And  is  not  the  chief  object  of 
vanity,  our  bravery  or  learning,  our  wit  or  breed- 
ing, our  eloquence  or  addrefs,  our  talle  or  abili- 
ties ?  Thefe  we  difplay  with  care,  if  not  with  of- 
tentation;  and  we  commonly  fhow  more  ambiti- 
on of  excelling  in  them,  than  even  in  the  focial 
virtues  themfelves,  which  are,  in  reality,  of  fuch 
fuperior  excellence.  Good -nature  and  honelly, 
efpecially  the  latter,  are  fo  indifpenfably  required, 
that,  though  the  greatefb  cenfure  attends  any  vio- 
lation of  thefe  duties,  no  eminent  praife  follows 
fuch  common  inllances  of  them,  as  feem  elfential 
to  the  fupport  of  human  fociety.  And  hence  the 
reafon,  in  my  opinion,  why,  though  men  often  ex- 
tol fo  liberally  the  qualities  of  their  heart,  they 
are  Ihy  in  commending  the  endowments  of  their 
head:  Becaufe  the  latter  virtues,  being  fuppofed 
more  rare  and  extraordinary,  are  obierved  to  be 
the  more  ufual  objefts  of  pride  and  felf-conceit ; 
and  when  boalled  of,  beget  a  llrong  fufpicion  of 
thefe  fentiments. 

It  is  hard  to  tell,  whether  you  hurt  a  man's  cha- 
rafler  moft  by  calling  him  a  knave  or  a  coward, 
and  whether  a  beaftly  glutton  or  drunkard  be  not  as 
odious  and  contemptible,  as  a  felfifh,  ungenerous 
mifer.  Give  me  my  choice,  and  1  would  rather, 
for   my  own  happinefs  and  felf-enjoyment,  have  a 

friendly. 


Of  SOME  Verbal  Disputes.  ^^9 

friendly,  humane  heart,  than  poflefs  all  the  other 
virtues  of  Demofthenes  and  Philip  united  :  But  I 
would  rather  pafs  with  the  world  for  one  endowed 
with  extenfive  genius  and  intrepid  courage,  and 
fhould  thence  expeft  ftronger  inftances  of  general 
applaufe  and  admiration.  The  figure  which  a 
man  makes  in  life,  the  reception  which  he  meets 
with  in  company,  the  efleem  paid  him  by  his  ac- 
quaintance ;  all  thefe  advantages  depend  as  much 
upon  his  good  fenfe  and  judgment,  as  upon  any 
other  part  of  his  chara6ler.  Had  a  man  the  bell 
intentions  in  the  world,  and  were  the  fartheft  re- 
moved from  all  injuftice  and  violence,  he  would 
never  be  able  to  make  himfelf  be  much  regarded, 
without  a  moderate  fhare,  at  lead,  of  parts  and  un- 
derftanding. 

What  is  it  then  we  can  here  difpute  about?  If 
fenfe  and  courage,  temperance  and  induflry,  wif- 
dom  and  knowledge  confefledly  form,  a  confidera- 
ble  part  o(  perfonal  merit:  if  a  man,  pofifeffed  of 
thefe  qualities,  is  both  better  fatisfied  with  himfelf, 
and  better  entitled  to  the  good-will,  efleem,  and 
fervices  of  others,  than  one  entirely  deflitute  of  themj 
if,  in  fhort,  the  Jentiments  are  fimilar,  wnich  arifc 
from  thefe  endowments  and  from  the  focial  virtues ; 
is  there  any  reafon  for  being  fo  extremely  fcrupu- 
lous  about  a  word^  or  difputing  whether  they  be  en- 
titled to  the  denomination  of  virtues  ?  It  ma)",  in- 
deed, be  pretended,  that  the  fentiment  of  approba- 
tion, which  thofe  accomplifliments  produce,  befides 
its  being  inferior^  is  alfo  fomewhat  different  from 
that,  which  attends  the  virtues  of  juftice  and  huma- 
nity. But  this  fecms  not  fufficient  reafon  for  rank- 
ing them  entirely  under  different  clalTes  and  appel- 
lations. The  charatler  of  Cicfar  and  that  of  Cato, 
as  drawn  by  Salluft,  are  both  of  them  virtuous,  in 
the  ftridefl  and  moil  limited  fenfe  of  the  word  ;  but 
in  a  different  way:  Nor  are  the  fentiments  entirely 
the  fame,  which  arife  from  them.     The  one  is  ami- 

VoL.  II.  B  b  able; 


370        A    P    P    E       D  N  1    X     IV. 

able ;  the  other  awful :  We  fViould  wifh  to  meet 
the  one  charafter  in  a  friend ;  the  other  we  fhould 
be  ambitious  of  in  ourfelves.  In  like  manner  the 
approbation,  which  attends  temperance  or  induftry 
or  frugality,  may  be  fomewhat  different  from  that 
which  is  paid  to  the  fbcial  virtues,  without  making, 
them  entirely  of  a  different  fpecies.  And,  indeed, 
we  may  obferve,  that  thefe  endowments,  more  than 
the  other  virtues,  produce  not,  all  of  them,  the 
fame  kind  of  approbation.  Good  fenfe  and  genius 
beget  elleem  and  regard :  Wit  and  humour  excite 
love  and  affedion  * 

Mcft  people,  I  believe,  will  naturally,  without 
premeditation,  affent  to  the  definition  of  the  elegant 
and  judicious  poet. 

Virtue  (for  mere  good-nature  is  a  fool) 
Is  fenfe  and  fpirit  with  humanity  f. 

What  pretenfions  has  a  man  to  our  generous  affift- 
ance  or  good  offices,  who  has  dilTipated  his  wealth 
in  profufe  expences,  ide  vanities,  chimerical  pro- 
jefts,  diffolute  pleafures,  or  extravagant  gaming? 
Thefe  vices  (for  we  fcruple  not  to  call  them  fuch) 
bring  mifery  unpitied)  and  contempt  on  every  one 
addicted  to  them. 

Achasus,  a  wife  and  prudent  prince,  fell  into  a 
fatal  fnare,  which  cofl  him  his  crown  and  life,  af- 
ter having  ufed  every  reafonable  precaution  to  guard 
himfelf  againft  it.  On  tiiat  account,  fays  the  hif- 
torian,  he  is  a  juft  obje<St  of  regard  and  compiiffion  v 
His  betrayers  alone  of  hatred  and  coiitcmpt  ^l. 

The  precipitate  fiight  and  improvident  negligence' 
of  Pompey,  at  the  beginning  of  the  civil  wars,  ap- 
peared fuch  notorious  blunders  to  Cicero,  as  quite 
palled  his  friendlhip  towards  that  great  man.  in  '-he 
fame  manner -i  fays  he,  as  zvant  of  cleanliniifi^y  dccoicyy 
or  dijcretion  in  a  mijtrcjs  are  found  to  aiichate  cur  af- 

feclions. 

*  See  NOTE    [TT]. 

f  The  Art  of  preferving  Health,  Book  4. 

t  Poi-ytius,  lib.  viii.  cap.  2. 


of  SOME  Verbal   Disputes.  371 

jettons.  For  fo  be  exprciTcs  himfeif,  where  he 
talks,  not  in  the  charafter  of  a  philofopher,  but  ini 
that  of  a  (latefman  dnd  man  of  the  world,  to  his 
fric^nd  Atticiis*. 

Buc  the  fame  Cicero,  in  imitation  of  all  the  an- 
cien'-  moralidsj  when  he  reafons  as  a  philofopher, 
enlarges  very  much  his  ideas  of  virtue,  and  com- 
prehends every  laudable  quality  or  endowment  of 
the  mind,  under  that  honourable  appellation.  This 
leads  to  the  third  refledlion,  which  we  propofed  to 
make,  to  wit,  that  the  ancient  moralifts,  the  beft 
models,  made  no  material  diflindtion  among  the 
different  fpecies  of  mental  endowments  and  defedls, 
but  treated  all  alike  under  the  appellation  of  virtues 
and  vices,  and  made  them  indifcriminately  the  ob- 
je6l  of  their  moral  reafonings.  The  prudence  ex- 
plained in  Cicero's  Offices  f,  is  that  fagacity,  which 
leads  to  the  difcovery  of  truth,  and  preferves  us 
from  error  and  mi  Hake.  Magnanmity^  temperance^ 
decency,  are  there  alfo  at  large  difcourfed  of.  And 
as  that  eloquent  moralift  followed  the  common  re- 
ceived divifion  of  the  four  cardinal  virtues,  our  fo- 
cial  duties  form  but  one  head^  in  the  general  dillri- 
butiori  of  his  fubjeft  J^ 

We  need  only  perufe  the  titles  of  chapters  in  Arif- 
totle's  Ethics  to  be  convinced,  that  he  ranks  cou- 
rage, temperance,  magnificence,  magnanimity,  mo- 
defly,  prudence,  and  a  manly  opennefs,  among 
the  virtues^  as  well  asjufticeand  friendfliip. 

To/ii/inin  and  to  abjlaiui  that  is,  to  be  patient 
and  continent,  appeared  to  lome  of  the  ancients  ai 
fummary  comprehenfion  of  all  morals, 

tpiftetus  has  fcarcely  ever  mentioned  the  fenti- 
ment  of  humanity  or  compailion,  but  in  order  td 
put  his  difciples  on  their  guard  againftit.  The  vir- 
tue of  the  iitoies  feems  to  confift  chiefly  in  a  firm 
temper  and  a  found  underilanding.  With  them, 
B  b  2  as 

*  Lib.  ix.  epid.   lo.  f  Lib.  i.  cap.  6- 

X  See  NOTE  [UU]. 


37i         A   P    P    E    N    D    I    X     IV. 

as  with  Solomon  and  the  eaftern  moralifts,  folly  and 
wifdom  are  equivalent  to  vice  and  virtue. 

Men  will  praife  thee,  fays  David  *,  when  thoo 
doft  well  unto  thyfelf.  I  hate  a  wife  nnan,  fays  the 
Greek  poet,  who  is  not  wife  to  himfelf  f. 

Plutarch  is  no  more  cramped  by  fyftems  in  his 
philofophy  than  in  his  hiflory.  "Where  he  compares 
the  great  men  of  Greece  and  Rome,  he  fairly  fets 
in  oppofition  all  their  blemifhes  and  accomplifh- 
ments  of  whatever  kind,  and  omits  nothing  confi- 
derable,  which  can  either  deprefs  or  exalt  their  cha- 
rafters.  His  moral  difcourfes  contain  the  fame  free 
and  natural  cenfure  of  men  and  manners. 

The  charadler  of  Hannibal,  as  drawn  by  Livy  jl, 
is  efteemed  partial,  but  allows  him  many  eminent 
virtues.  Never  was  there  a  genius,  fays  the  hiftori- 
an,  more  equally  fitted  for  thofe  oppofite  offices  of 
commanding  and  obeying  ;  and  it  were,  therefore, 
difficult  to  determine  whether  he  rendered  himfelf 
dearer  to  the  general  or  to  the  army.  To  none  would 
Ktafdrubal  entruft  more  willingly  the  conduct  of 
any  dangerous  entcrprize;  under  none,  did  the  fol- 
diers  difcover  more  courage  and  confidence.  Great 
boldnefs  in  facing  danger  ;  great  prudence  in  the 
midft  of  it.  No  labour  could  fatigue  his  body  or 
fubdue  his  mind.  Cold  and  heat  were  indifferent 
to  him :  Meat  and  drink  he  fought  as  fupplies  to 
the  neceffities  of  nature,  not  as  gratifications  of  his 
voluptuous  appetites  ?  Waking  or  reft  he  ufed  indif- 

criminately,  by  night  or  by  day. Thcfe  great 

Virtues  were  balanced  by  great  Vices:  inhum^a 
cruelty,  perfidy  more  than  ^//w/Vj  no  truth,  no  faith, 
no  regard  to  oaths,  piomifes,  or  religion. 

The  character  of  Alexander  the  Sixth,  to  be 
found  in  Guicciardin  §,  is  pretty  fimilar,  butjufier; 
and  is  a  proof,  that  even  the  moderns,  where  they 

fpeak 

*   Pfalm  49th. 

f  M.,>  an:i,-Mv  ori>"  «>c  ctu7«  !Tof^.     Euripides. 

X  Lib.  xxi.  cap.  4.  §  Lib.  i. 


Of  SOME  Verbal  Disputes.  373 

I'peak  naturally,  hold  the  fame  language  with  the 
ancients.  In  this  pope,  fays  he,  there  was  a  fingu- 
lar  capacity  and  judgment:  Admirable  prudence; 
a  wonderful  talent  of  perfuafion  ;  and  in  all  mo- 
mentous enterprizes,  a  diligence  and  dexterity  in- 
credible. But  thefe  virtues  were  infinitely  overba- 
lanced by  his  vices-,  no  faith,  no  religion,  infatiable 
avarice,  exorbitant  ambition,  and  a  more  than 
barbarous  cruelty. 

Polybiusf,  reprehending  Timasus  for  his  parti- 
ality againll  Agathocles,  whom  he  himfelf  allows  to 
be  the  molt  cruel  and  impious  of  all  tyrants,  fays  : 
If  he  took  refuge  in  Syracufe,  as  afTerted  by  that 
hiftorian,  flying  the  dirt  and  fmoke  and  toil  of  his 
former  profefllon  of  a  potter;  and  if  proceeding 
from  fuch  flender  beginnings,  he  became  mafter, 
in  a  little  time,  of  all  Sicily  ;  brought  the  Cartha- 
ginian ftate  into  the  utmofl;  danger  -,  and  at  lafl;  died 
in  old  age,  and  in  pofleffion  of  fovereign  dignity : 
Muft  he  not  be  allowed  fomething  prodigious  and 
extraordinary,  and  to  have  pofielied  great  talents 
and  capacity  for  bufinefs  and  attion  ?  His  hiftorian, 
therefore,  ought  not  to  have  alone  related  what 
tended  to  his  reproach  and  infamy  ;  but  alfo  what 
iriight  redound  to  his  Praife  and  Honour. 

In  general,  we  may  obferve;  that  the  diftinflion 
of  voluntary  or  involuntary  was  little  regarded  by 
the  ancients  in  their  moral  reafonings ;  where  they 
frequently  treated  the  qucftion  as  very  doubtful, 
whether  virtue  could  be  taught  or  not*'  'i  They  juftly 
confidered,  that  cowardice,  m.eannefs,  levity,  anx- 
iety, impatience,  folly,  and  many  other  qualities 
of  the  mind,  might  appear  ridiculous  and  deform- 
ed, contemptible  and  odious,  though  independent 
of  the  will.     Nor  could  it  be  fuppofed,  at  all  times, 

in 

f  Lib.  xii. 

*  Vid.  Plato  in  Me  NONE,  Se-' eca  rtVo/Zoy^/.  cap.  31.  So 
alfo  Horace,  Virtutem  doBrina,  paret,  Jiaturane  donet.  Epilh 
lib.  i.  ep.  18.    .^scHiNEs  SocjiATicus.     Dial.  1. 


574        A    P    P    E    N    D    I    X     IV. 

In  every  man's  power  to  attain  every  kind  of  mental, 
more  than  of  exterior  beauty. 

And  here  there  occurs  xht  fourth  refleftion  which 
I  purpofed  to  m.ake,  in  fuggetting  the  reafon,  why 
modern  philofophers  have  often  followed  a  coiirfe, 
in  fheir  moral  enquiries,  fo  different  from  that  of 
the   ancients.      In  later  times,    philofophy  of  all 
kinds,  efpecially  ethics,    have    been  more   clofely 
united  with  theology  than  ever  they  were  obferved 
to  be  among  the  Heathens  j  and  as  this  latter  fci- 
ence  admits  of  no  terms  of  compofition,  but  bends 
every  branch  of  knowledge    to  its   own  purpofe, 
without  much  regard  to  the  phenomena  of  nature, 
or  to  the  unbiafled  fentiments  of  the  mind,  hence 
reafoning,    and  even  language,    have  been  warped 
from  their  natural  courfe,  and  diflindlions  have  been 
endeavoured  to  be  eftablilhed,  where  the  difference 
of  the  obje6t  was,    in    a  manner,    imperceptible. 
Philofophers,  or  rather  divines  under  that  difguife, 
treating  all   morals,  as  on  a  like  footing  with  ci- 
vil laws,  guarded  by  the  fandlions  of  reward  and 
punifhment,  were  neceiTarily  led  to  render  this  cir- 
cumflance,  oi  voluntary  ox  involuntary ,  the  founda- 
tion of  their  whole  theory.     Every  one  may  employ 
terms  in  what  fenfe  he  pleafes  :  But  this,  in  the  mean 
time,  muft  be  allowed,  thu/entments  are  every  day 
experienced  of  blame  and  praife,  which  have  objects 
beyond  the  dominion  of  the  will  or  choice,  and  of 
which  it  behoves  us,  if  not  as  moralills,  as  fpecula- 
tive  philofophers  at  leall,  to  give  fome  fatisfad:ory 
theory  and  explication. 

A  blemifh,  a  fault,  a  vice,  a  crime;  thefe  ex- 
preffions  feem  to  denote  different  degrees  of  cenfure 
and  difapprobation  ;  which  are,  however,  all  of 
them,  at  the  bottom,  pretty  nearly  of  the  fame  kind 
or  fpecies.  The  explication  of  one  will  eafily  lead 
us  into  a  jufl:  conception  of  the  others  ;  and  it  is  of 
greater  confequence  to  attend  to  things  than  to  ver- 
bal 


or  SOME  Verbal  Disputes.  375 

bal  appellations.  That  we  owe  a  duty  to  oiirfelves 
is  confefled  even  in  the  moft  vulgar  fyftem  of  mo- 
rals J  and  it  muft  be  of  confequcnce  to  examine  that 
duty,  in  order  to  fee,  whether  it  bears  any  affinity 
to  that  which  we  owe  to  fociety.  It  is  probable, 
that  the  approbation,  attending  the  obfervance  of 
both,  isofafimilar  nature,  and  arifes  from  fimilar 
principles;  whatever  appellation  we  may  give  to 
jeither  -of  thefe  cxcellejncies. 


A  DI  A- 


(    377    ) 


DIALOGUE. 


M 


Y  friend,  Palarqedes,  who  is  as  great  a:  ramb- 
ler in  his  principles  as  in  his  perfon,  who  has 
run  over^  by  ftudy  and  travel,  almoft  every  re- 
gion of  the  intelledual  and  material  world,  fur- 
prized  me  lately  with  an  account  of  a  nation, 
with  whom,  he  told  me,  he  had  pafled  a  con- 
fiderable  part  of  his  life,  and  whom,  he  found, 
in  the  main,  a  people  extremely  civilized  and 
intelligent. 

There  is  a  country,  faid  he,  in  the  world,  cal- 
led Fourli,  no  matter  for  its  longitude  or  lati- 
tude, whofe  inhabitants  have  ways  of  thinking, 
in  many  things,  particularly  in  morals,  diametri- 
cally oppofite  to  ours.  When  I  came  among 
them,  1  found  that  I  muft  fubmit  to  double  pains; 
firft  to  learn  the  meaning  of  the  terms  in  their 
language,  and  then  to  know  the  import  of  thofe 
terms,  and  the  praife  or  blame  attached  to  them. 
After  a  word  had  been  explained  to  me,  and 
the  charadler,  which  it  exprefled,  had  been  def- 
cribed,  I  concluded,  that  fuch  an  epithet  mull 
neceflfarily  be  the  greatefl;  reproach  in  the  world; 
and  was  extremely  furprized  to  find  one  in  a  pub- 
lic company,  apply  it  to  a  perfon,  with  whom 
he  lived  in  the  ftridleft  intimacy  and  friendlliip. 

Tou 


378  A    D  I  A  L  O  G  U  E. 

Tcu  fancy,  faid  I  one  day,  to  an  acquaintance,  that 
Changuis  is  your  m-ortal  enemy:  I  love  to  extinguijh 
quarrels,  and  Imujl,  therefore^  tell  youy  that  I  heard 
him  talk  of  you  in  the  mojl  obliging  manner.  But  to 
my  great  allonilhment,  when  I  rcneaned  Changuis's 
words,  though  I  had  both  remembered  and  under- 
ftood  them  perfeflly,  I  found,  that  they  were  trken 
for  the  moft  mortal  affront,  and  that  I  had  very  m- 
nocently  rendered  the  breach  between  thefe  perfons 
altogether  irreparable. 

As  it  was  my  fortune  to  come  among  this  people 
on  a  very  advantageous  footing,  I  was  immediately 
introduced  to  the  beft  company :  and  being  defired 
by  Alcheic  to  live  with  him,  I  readily  accepted  of 
his  invitation  ;  as  I  found  him  univerfaJly  efieemed 
for  his  perfonal  merit,  and  indeed  regarded  by  every 
pile  in  Fourli,  as  a  perfeft  charader. 

One  evening  he  invited  me,  as  an  amufement, 
to  bear  him  company  in  a  ferenade,  which  he 
intended  to  give  to  Gulki,  with  whom,  he  told 
me,  he  was  extremely  enamoured;  and  I  foon 
found  that  his  tafte  was  not  fingular:  For  we 
met  many  of  his  rivals,  who  had  come  on  the 
fame  errand.  I  very  naturally  concluded,  that 
this  miflrefs  of  his  muft  be  one  of  the  fineft 
women  in  town;  and  I  already  felt  a  fecret  in- 
clination to  fee  her,  and  be  acquainted  with  her. 
But  as  the  moon  began  to  rife,  I  was  much  fur- 
prized  to  find,  that  we  were  in  the  midfl  of  the 
univerfity,  where  Gulki  ftudied:  And  I  was  fome- 
what  aihamed  for  having  attended  my  friend,  on 
fuch  an  errand. 

1  was  afterwards  told,  that  Alcheic's  choice  of 
Gulki  was  very  much  approved  of  by  all  the 
good  company  in  town;  and  that  it  was  expeft- 
ed,  while  he  gratified  his  own  palTion,  he  would 
perform  to  that  young  man  the  fame  good  of- 
fice, which  he  had  himfclf  owed  to  Elcouf.  It 
leems  Alcheic  had  been  very  handfome  in  his 
youth,  had  been  courted  by  many  lovers ;  but  had 

beftowed 


A    D  I  A  L  O  G  U  E.  379 

beftowed  his  favours  chiefly  on  the  fage  Elcoulf; 
to  whom  he  was  fuppofed  to  owe,  in  great  mea- 
fure,  the  aftonilhing  progrefs  which  he  had  made 
in   philolbphy  and  virtue. 

Ic  gave  me  fome  furprize,  that  Alchcic's  wife 
(who  by  the- bye  happened  alfo  to  be  his  fifter) 
was  no  wife  fcandalized  at  this  fpecies  of  infi- 
delity. 

Much  about  the  fame  time  I  difcovered  (for 
it  was  not  attempted  to  be  kept  a  fecret  from  mc 
or  any  body)  that  Alcheic  was  a  murderer  and 
a  parricide,  and  had  put  to  death  an  innocent 
perfon,  the  moft  nearly  connected  with  him,  and 
whom  he  was  bound  to  proted  and  defend  by 
all  the  ties  of  nature  and  humanity.  When  I 
afked,  with  all  the  caution  and  deference  ima- 
ginable, what  was  his  motive  for  this  adion; 
he  replied  coolly,  that  he  was  not  then  fo  much 
at  eafe  in  his  circumftances  as  he  is  at  prefent, 
and  that  he  had  a£Ved,  in  that  particular,  by  the 
advice  of  all  his  friends. 

Having  heard  Alcheic's  virtue  fo  extremely 
celebrated,  1  pretended  to  join  in  the  general 
voice  of  acclamation,  and  only  afked,  by  way  of 
curiofity,  as  a  ftranger,  which  of  all  his  noble 
actions  was  moft  highly  applauded;  and  I  foon 
found,  that  all  fentiments  were  united  in  giving 
the  preference  to  the  affallination  of  Ufbek.  This 
Ufbek  had  been  to  the  laft  moment  Alcheic's 
intimate  friend,  had  laid  many  high  obligations 
upon  him,  had  even  faved  his  life  on  a  certain 
occafion,  and  had,  by  his  will,  which  was  found 
after  the  murder,  made  him  heir  to  a  confide- 
rable  part  of  his  fortune.  Alcheic,  it  feems,  con- 
fpired  with  about  twenty  or  thirty  more,  moft 
of  them  alfo  Uft>ek's  friends  j  and  falling  all  to- 
gether on  that  unhappy  man,  when  he  was  not 
aware,  they  had  torne  him  with  a  hundred  wounds  j 
and  given   hi^n  that  reward   for   his  paft  favours 

apd 


38o  A    D  I  A  L  O  G  U  E. 

and  obligations.  Ufbek,  faid  the  general  voice 
of  the  people,  had  many  great  and  good  quali- 
ties: His  very  vices  were  fhining,  magnificent, 
and  generous :  But  this  adion  of  Alcheic's  fets 
him  far  above  Ufbek  in  the  eyes  of  all  judges 
of  merit;  and  is  one  of  the  nobleft  that  ever 
perhaps  the  fan  fhone  upon. 

Another  part  of  Alcheic's  conduft,  which  I 
alfo  found  highly  applauded,  was  his  behaviour 
towards  Calilh,  with  whom  he  was  joined  in  a 
project  or  undertaking  of  fome  importance.  Ca- 
lifh,  being  a  paffionate  man,  gave  Alcheic,  one 
day,  a  found  drubbing;  which  he  took  very  pa- 
tiently, waited  the  return  of  Califh's  good-hu- 
mour, kept  ftill  a  fair  correfpondence  with  him; 
and  by  that  means  brought  the  affair,  in  which 
they  were  joined,  to  a  happy  ifTue,  and  gained 
to  himfelf  immortal  honour  by  his  remarkable 
temper  and  moderation. 

1  have  lately  received  a  letter  from  a  corref- 
pondent  in  Fourli,  by  which  I  learn,  that,  fince 
my  departure,  Alcheic,  falling  into  a  bad  flate  of 
health,  has  fairly  hanged  himfelf;  and  has  died 
univerfally  regretted  and  applauded  in  that  coun- 
try. So  virtuous  and  noble  a  life,  fays  each 
Fourlian,  could  not  be  better  crowned  than  by 
fo  noble  an  end ;  and  Alcheic  has  proved  by  this, 
as  well  as  by  all  his  other  aftions,  what  he  boafl- 
ed  of  near  his  laft  moments,  that  a  wife  man  is 
fcarcely  inferior  to  the  great  god,  Vitzli.  This 
is  the  name  of  the  fupreme  deity  among  the 
Fourlians. 

The  notions  of  this  people,  continued  Pala- 
medes,  are  as  extraordinary  with  regard  to  good- 
manners  and  fociablenefs,  as  with  regard  to  mo- 
rals. My  friend  Alcheic  formed  once  a  party 
for  my  entertainment,  compofed  of  all  the  prime 
wits  and  philofophers  of  Fourli;  and  each  of  us 
brought    his    mcfs   along  with   him  to  the  place 

where 


A    t)  I  A  L  O  G  U  K.  381 

where  we  afiembled.  I  obferved  one  of  them 
to  be  worfe  provided  than  the  reft,  and  offered 
hinri  a  fhare  of  my  mefs,  which  happened  to  be 
a  roafted  pullet :  And  1  could  not  but  remark, 
that  he  and  all  the  reft  of  the  company  fmiled 
at  my  fimplicity.  I  was  told,  that  Alcheic  had 
once  fo  much  intereft  with  this  club  as  to  pre- 
vail with  them  to  eat  in  common,  and  that  he 
had  made  ufe  of  an  artifice  for  that  purpofe. 
He  perfuaded  thofe,  whom  he  obferved  to  be 
worjl  provided,  to  offer  their  mefs  to  the  com- 
pany i  after  which,  the  others,  who  had  brought 
more  delicate  fare,  were  aftiamed  not  to  make 
the  fame  offer.  This  is  regarded  as  fo  extraor- 
dinary an  event,  that  it  has  fince,  as  I  learn, 
been  recorded  in  the  hiftory  of  Alcheic's  life, 
compofed  by  one  of  the  greateft  geniufes  of 
Fourli. 

Pray,  faid  I,  Palamedes,  when  you  were  at 
Fourli,  did  you  alfo  learn  the  art  of  turning 
your  friends  into  ridicule,  by  telling  them  ftrange 
ftories,  and  then  laughing  at  them,  if  they  be- 
lieved you.  I  affure  you,  replied  he,  had  I  been 
difpofed  to  learn  fuch  a  leffon,  there  was  no  place 
in  the  world  more  proper.  My  friend,  fo  often 
mentioned,  did  nothing,  from  morning  to  night, 
but  fneer,  and  banter,  and  rally  i  and  you  could 
fcarcely  ever  diftinguifli,  whether  he  were  injt^ft 
or  earneft.  But  you  think  then,  that  my  ftorv 
is  improbable;  and  that  I  have  ufed,  or  rather 
abufed  the  privilege  of  a  traveller.  To  be  fure, 
faid  I,  you  were  but  in  jeft.  Such  barbarous 
and  favage  manners  are  not  only  incompatible 
with  a  civilized,  intelligent  people,  fuch  as  you 
faid  thefe  were;  but  fcarcely  compatible 
with  human  nature.  They  exceed  all  we  ever 
read  of,  among  the  Mingrelians,  and  Topinam- 
boues. 

Have  a  care,  cried  he,  have  a  care !    You  arc 

not 


382  A   D  I  A  L  O  G  U  £. 

not  aware  that  you  are  fpeaking  blafphemy,  and 
are  abufing  your  favourites,  the  Greeks,  efpeci- 
ally  the  Athenians,  whom  I  have  couched,  all 
along,  under  thefe  bizarre  nannes  I  employed* 
If  you  confider  aright,  there  is  not  one  ftroke 
of  the  foregoing  chara6ter,  which  might  not  be 
found  in  the  man  of  higheft  merit  at  Athens,- 
without  diminiihing  in  the  leaft  from  the  bright- 
nefs  of  his  character.  The  amours  of  the  Greeks^ 
their  marriages  *,  and  the  expofing  of  their  chil- 
dren cannot  but  ftrike  you  immediately.  The 
death  of  Ufbek  is  an  exa£t  counter-part  to  that 
of  Casfar. 

All  to  a  trifle,  faid  I,  interrupting  him :    You 
did  not   mention   that  Ufbek  was  an  ufurper. 

I  did  not,  replied  he;  left  you  Ihould  difcover 
the  parallel  I  aimed  at.  But  even  adding  this 
circumftance,  we  fhould  make  no  fcruple,  accord- 
ing to  our  fentiments  of  morals,  to  denominate 
Brutus,  and  Caffius,  ungrateful  traitors  and  af- 
fafTins:  Though  you  know,  that  they  are,  per- 
haps, the  higheft  charadlers  of  all  antiquity;  and 
the  Athenians  ered;ed  ftatues  to  them ;  which  they 
placed  near  thofe  of  Harmodius  and  Ariftogiton, 
their  own  deliverers.  And  if  you  think  this  cir- 
cumftance, which  you  mention,  fo  material  to 
abfolve  thefe  patriots,  I  fhall  compcnfate  it  by 
another,  not  mentioned,  which  will  equally  ag- 
gravate their  crime.  A  few  days  before  the  ex- 
ecution of  their  fatal  purpofe,  they  all  fwore  feal- 
ty to  Cacfar;  and  protefting  to  hold  his  perfon 
ever  facred,  they  touched  the  altar  with  thofe 
hands,  which  they  had  already  armed  for  his 
deftruflionf. 

I  need   not  remind  you  of  the  famous  and  ap- 
plauded 

*  The  laws  of  Athens  allowed  a  man  to  marry  his  filler  by 
the  fiither.  Solon's  law  forbid  p;edcrally  to  flaves,  as  being  ait 
aft  of  too  great  dignity  for  lucii  mean  perfons. 

f  Appian.  Bell.  Civ.  lib.  iii.  Suetonius  in  vita  Cxfaris. 


A    D  I  A  L  O  G  U  E.  33j 

plauded  ftory  of  Themiftocles,  and  of  his  pati- 
ence towards  Eurybiades,  the  Spartan,  his  com- 
manding officer,  who,  heated  by  debate,  lifted 
his  cane  to  him  in  a  council  of  war  (the  fame 
thing  as  if  he  had  cudgelled  him),  Strike!  cries 
the  Athenian,  y////^^/  bui  hear  me. 

You  are  too  good  a  fcholar  not  to  difcover 
the  ironical  Socrates  and  his  Athenian  club  in  my 
laft  ftory ;  and  you  v/ill  certainly  obferve,  that 
it  is  exadlv  copied  from  Xenophon,  with  a  va- 
riation only  of  the  names  *.  And  I  think  I  have 
fairly  made  it  appear,  that  an  Athenian  man  of 
merit  might  be  fuch  a  one  as  with  us  would 
pafs  for  inceftuous,  a  parricide^  an  affafnn,  un- 
grateful, perjured  traitor,  and  fomething  elfe  too 
abominable  to  be  named  j  not  to  mention  his  ruf- 
ticity  and  ill-manners.  And  having  lived  in  this 
manner,  his  death  might  be  entirely  fuitable: 
He  might  conclude  the  fcene  by  a  defperate  ad: 
of  felf-murder,  and  die  v/ith  the  moft  abfurd 
blafphemies  in  his  mouth.  And  notwithftanding 
all  this,  he  fhall  have  ftatues,  if  not  altars,  ereft- 
ed  to  his  memory;  poems  and  orations  fhall  be 
compofed  in  his  praife ;  great  feds  fhall  be 
proud  of  calling  themfelves  by  his  name;  and 
the  moft  diftant  pofterity  fhall  blindly  continue 
their  admiration :  Though  were  fuch  a  ane  to  arife 
among  themfelves,  they  would  juftly  regard  him. 
with  horror   and  execration. 

I  might  have  been  aware,  replied  I,  of  your 
artifice.  You  feem  to  take  pleafure  in  this  to- 
pic :  and  are  indeed  the  only  man  1  ever  knew, 
who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  ancients,  and 
did  not  extremely  admire  them.  But  inftead  of 
attacking  their  philofophy,  their  eloquence,  or 
poetry,  the  ufual  fubjetts  of  controverly  between 
us,  you  now  leem   to  impeach  their  morals,    and 

accufe 
*  Mem,  Soc.  lib.  iii.  Tub.  fine.- 


jS4  A    t)  I  A  L  O  G  U  E. 

accufe  them  of  ignorance  in  a  fcience,  which  is 
the  only  one,  in  my  opinion,  in  which  they  are  , 
not  furpaffed  by  the  moderns.  Geometry,  phy- 
fics,  aftronomy,  anatomy,  botany,  geography,  na- 
vigation; in  thefe  we  juftly  claim  the  fuperiority: 
But  what  have  we  to  oppofe  to  their  moralifts  ? 
Your  reprefentation  of  things  is  fallacious.  You 
have  no  indulgence  for  the  manners  and  cuftoms  of 
different  ages.  Would  you  try  a  Greek  or  Roman 
by  the  common  law  of  England  ?  Hear  him  defend 
himfelf  by  his  own  maxims;   and  then  pronounce. 

There  are  no  manners  fo  innocent  or  reafonable, 
but  may  be  rendered  odious  or  ridiculous,  if  mea- 
fured  by  a  flandard,  unknown  to  the  perfons ;  efpe- 
cially,  if  you  employ  a  little  art  or  eloquence,  in 
aggravating  fome  circumftances,  and  extenuating 
others,  as  befl  fuits  the  purpofe  of  your  difcourfe. 
All  thefe  artifices  may  eafily  be  retorted  on  you. 
Could  1  inform  the  Athenians,  for  inftance,  that 
there  was  a  nation,  in  which  adultery,  both  aftive 
and  pafilve,  fo  to  fpeak,  was  in  the  higheft  vogue 
and  eftcem:  In  which  every  man  of  education  chofc 
for  his  miilrefs  a  married  woman,  the  wife,  perhaps, 
of  his  friend  and  companion ;  and  valued  himfelf 
upon  thefe  infamous  conquells,  as  much  as  if  he 
had  been  feveral  times  a  conqueror  in  boxing  or 
wreftling  at  the  Olympic  games  :  In  which  every  man 
alfo  took  a  pride  in  his  tamenefs  and  facility  with 
regard  to  his  own  wife,  and  was  glad  to  make 
friends  or  gain  interefl-  by  allowing  her  to  profti- 
tute  her  charms;  and  even,  without  any  fuch  mo- 
tive, gave  her  full  liberty  and  indulgence:  I  afk, 
what  fentiments  the  Athenians  would  entertain  of 
fuch  a  people;  they  who  never  mentioned  the  crime 
of  adultery  but  in  conjunction  with  robbery  and 
j)oifoning?  Which  would  they  admire  moft,  the 
viliany  or  the  meannefs  of  fuch  a  conduft  ? 

•Should  I  add,  that  the  fame  people  nere  as  proud 
of  their  llavery  and  dependance  as  the  Athenians  of 
their  liberty;  and  though  a  man  among  them  were 

op])rcfled> 


A     D   I   A   L  O   G  U   E.  385 

difgraced,  impoverifhcd,  infulced,  or  imprifoned 
by  the  tyrant,  he  would  Hill  regard"  it  as  the  high- 
efl  merit  to  love,  ferve,  and  obey  him  ;  and  even 
to  die  for  his  fmallefl  glory  or  fatisfaftion  :  Thefe 
noble  Greeks  would  probably  aik  me,  whether  I 
fpoke  of  a  human  fociety,  or  of  fome  inferior, 
fervile  fpecies. 

It  was  then  I  might  inform  my  Athenian  au- 
dience, that  thefe  people,  however,  v^^anted  not 
fpirit  and  bravery.  If  a  man,  fay  I,  though  their 
intimate  friend,  (hould  throw  out,  in  a  private 
company,  a  raillery  againfc  them,  nearly  ap- 
proaching any  of  thofe,  v/ith  which  your  generals 
and  demagogues  every  day  regale  each  other,  in 
the  face  of  the  whole  city,  they  never  can  forgive 
him;  but  in  order  to  revenge  themfelves,  they 
oblige  him  immediately  to  run  them  through  die 
body,  or  be  himfelf  murdered.  And  if  a  man, 
who  is  an  abfolute  flranger  to  them,  lliould  defire 
them,  at  the  peril  of  their  own  life,  to  cut  the 
throat  of  their  bofom-companion,  they  imme- 
diately obey,  and  think  themfelves  highly  oblig- 
ed and  honoured  by  the  commiffion.  Thefe  are 
their  maxims  of  honour :  This  is  their  favourite- 
morality. 

But  though  fo  ready  to  draw  their  fword  againft' 
their  friends  and  countrymen  ;  no  difgrace,  no  in- 
famy, no  pain,  no  poverty  will  ever  engage  thefe 
people  to  turn  the  point  of  it  againfi:  their  own 
bread.  A  man  of  rank  would  row  in  the  gallies, 
would  beg  his  bread,  would  languifh  in  prifon, 
would  fuffer  any  tortures;  and  ftill  preferve  his 
wretched  life.  Rather  than  efcape  his  enemies  by 
a  generous  contempt  of  death,  he  would  infa- 
moully  receive  the  fame  death  from  his  enemies, 
aggravated  by  their  triumphant  infults,  and  by  the 
moit  exquifire  fufFcrings. 

It  is  very  ufual  too,  continue  I,  among  this  peo- 
ple to  erect  jails,  where  every  art  of  plaguing  and 

Vol.  II.   '  C  c  tor- 


386  A     D  I   A  L  O  G  U   E. 

tormenting  the  unhappy  prifoners  is  carefully 
ftudied  and  pradifed  :  And  in  thefe  jails  it  is  ufuat 
for  a  parent  voluntarily  to  fliut  up  feveral  of  his 
children  ;  in  order,  than  another  child,  whom  he 
owns  to  have  no  greater  or  rather  lefs  merit  than 
the  reft,  may  enjoy  his  v/hole  fortune,  and  wallow 
in  every  kind  of  voluptuoufnefs  and  pleafure.  No- 
thing fo  virtuous  in  their  opinion  as  this  barbarous 
partiality. 

But  what  is  more  fingular  in  this  whimfical  na- 
tion, fay  I  to  the  Athenians,  is,  that  a  frolic  of 
yours  during  the  Saturnalia  *,  when  the  flaves  are 
ferved  by  their  mafters,  is  ferioufly  continued  by 
them  throughout  the  whole  year,  and  throughout 
the  whole  courfe  of  their  lives;  accompanied  too 
with  fome  circumftances,  which  ftill  farther  aug- 
ment the  abfurdity  and  ridicule.  Your  fport  only 
elevates  for  a  few  days  thofe  whom  fortune  has 
thrown  down,  and  whom  fhe  too,  in  fport,  may 
really  elevate  for  ever  above  you  :  But  this  nation: 
gravely  exalts  thole,  whom  nature  has  fubjefled  to 
them,  and  whofe  inferiority  and  infirmities  are  ab- 
folutely  incurable.  The  women,  though  without 
virtue,  are  their  mafters  and  fovereigns  :  Thefe 
they  reverence,  praife,  and  magnify :  To  thefe, 
they  pay  the  higheft  deference  and  refpefb:  And  in 
all  places  and  all  times,  the  fuperiority  of  the  fe- 
males is  readily  acknowledged  and  fubmitted  to  by 
every  one,  who  has  the  leall  pretenfions  to  educa- 
tion and  politenefs.  Scarce  any  crime  would  be  fo 
univerfally  deteited  as  an  infradlion  of  this  rule. 

You  need  go  no  further,  replied  Palamedes  i  1 
can  eafily  conje6ture  the  people  whom  you  aim  at. 
The  ftrokcs,  with  which  you  have  painted  them, 
are  pretty  juft;  and  yet  you  muft  acknowledge, 
that  fcarce  any  people  are  to  be  found,  cither  m 

ancient 

*  The  Greeks  kept  the  feaft  of  Saturn  or  Chronus,  as  well  a? 
the  Romans.     SceLucian.     Epift.  datum. 


A     D  I  A  L  O   G   U   E.  387 

ancient  or  modern  times,  whofc  national  charafter 
is,  upon  the  whole,  lels  liable  to  exception.  But 
I  give  you  thanks  for  helping  me  out  with  my  ar- 
gument. 1  had  no  intention  of  exalting  the  mo- 
derns at  the  expence  of  the  ancients.  I  only  meant 
to  reprefent  the  uncertainty  of  all  thefe  judgments 
concerning  characters  ;  and  to  convince  you,  that 
fafhion,  vogue,  cuftom,  and  law,  were  the  chief 
foundation  of  all  moral  determinations.  The 
Athenians  furely,  were  a  civilized,  intelligent  peo- 
ple, if  ever  there  v/ere  one;  and  yet  their  man  of 
merit  might,  in  this  age,  be  held  in  horror  and 
execration.  The  French  are  alfo,  without  doubt, 
a  very  civilized,  intelligent  people  ;  and  yet  their 
man  of  merit  might,  with  the  Athenians,  bean  ob- 
jedl  of  the  higheft  contempt  and  ridicule,  and  even 
hatred.  And  what  renders  the  matter  more  ex- 
traordinary :  Thefe  two  people  are  fuppofed  to  be 
the  mofb  fimilar  in  their  national  chara6ter  of  any 
in  ancient  and  modern  times  ;  and  while  the  Eng- 
lifh  flatter  themfelves  that  they  refemble  the  Ro- 
mans, their  neighbours  on  the  continent  draw  the 
parallel  between  themfelves  and  thofe  polite  Greeks.  . 
What  wide  difference,  therefore,  in  the  fentiments 
of  morals,  muft  be  found  between  civilized  nati- 
ons and  Barbarians,  or  between  nations  whofe 
characters  have  little  in  common?  How  fhall  we 
pretend  to  fix  a  flandard  for  judgments  of  this  na- 
ture ? 

By  tracing  matters,  replied  I,  a  little  higher, 
and  examining  the  firft  principles,  which  each 
nation  eftablifhes,  of  blame  or  cenfure.  The 
Rhine  flows  north,  the  Rhone  fouth  j  yet  both 
fpring  from  the  fame  mountain,  and  are  alfo  ac- 
tuated, in  their  oppofite  directions,  by  the  Ja;ne 
principle  of  gravity.  The  different  inclinations 
of  the  ground,  on  which  they  run,  caule  all  the 
difference  of  their  courfes. 

C  c  2  In 


388  A     DIALOGUE. 

In  how  many  circumftances  would  an  Atheniafri 
and  a  French  man  of  merit  certainly  refemble  each 
other  ?  Good  fcnfe,  knowledge,  wit,  eloquenccj. 
humanity,  fidelity,  truth,  jiillice,  courage,  tem- 
perance, eonftancy,  dignity  of  mind  :  Thefc  you 
have  all  omitted  ;  in  order  to  infill  only  on  the 
points,  in  which  they  may,  by  accident,  differ. 
Very  well :  I  am  willing  to  com-ply  with  you  ;  and 
fhall  endeavour  to  account  for  thcfe  differences 
from  the  moft  univerfal,  eftablifhed  principles  of 
morals. 

The  Greek  loves,  I  care  not  to  examine  more 
particularly.  I  Ihall  only  obferve,  that,  however 
blameable,  they  arofe  from  a  very  innocent  caufe, 
the  frequency  of  the  gymnaftic  exercifes  among, 
that  people  -,  and  were  recommended,  though  ab- 
furdly,  as  the  fource  of  friendfliip,  fympathy,  mu- 
tual attachment,  and  fidelity  *j  qualities  efteem- 
cd  in  all  nations  and  all  ages. 

The  marriage  of  half-brothers  and  fillers  feems^ 
no  great  difficulty.  Love  between  the  nearer  rela- 
tions is  contrary  to  reafon  and  public  utility  -,  but 
the  precife  point,  where  we  are  to  Hop,  can  fcarce- 
ly  be  determined  by  natural  reafon ;  and  is  there- 
fore a  very  proper  fubje6l  for  municipal  law  or 
eullom.  If  tlite  Athenians  went  a  little  too  far  on 
the  one  fide,  the  canon  law  has  furely  pulhed 
matters  a  great  way  into  the  other  extreme  f . 

Had  you  alked  a  parent  at  Athens,  why  he  be- 
reaved his  child  of  tiiat  fife,  which  he  had  fo  late- 
ly given  it.  It  is  becaufe  I  love  it,  he  would  re- 
ply ;  and  regard  the  poverty  which  it  mull  inherit 
from  me,  as  a  greater  evil  than  death,  which  it 
is  not  capable  of  dreading,  feeling,  or  relent- 
ing J. 

How 

•  Plat.  fymp.  p.  182.     Ex  edit.  Ser. 

f  See  Enquiry,  Sed.  IV. 

X  Plut.  de  amore  prolis,  Tub  fine. 


A     D  I   A   L  O   G   U  E.  3^9 

How  is  public  liberty,  the  moft  valuable  of  all 
blel]ino:s,  to  be  recovered  from  the  hands  of  an 
ufurper  or  tyrant,  if  his  power  fliields  him  from 
public  rebellion,  and  our  fcruples  from  private 
vengeance  ^  1  hat  his  crime  is  capital  by  law,  you 
acknowledge :  And  muft  the  highell  aggravation 
of  his  crime,  tlit  putting  of  himfelf  above  law, 
form  his  full  fecurity  ?  You  can  reply  nothing, 
but  by  fhowing  the  great  inconveniences  of  aflaf- 
fination  J  which  could  any  one  have  proved  clearly 
to  the  ancients,  he  had  reformed  their  fcntiments  in 
this  particular. 

Again,  to  call  your  eye  on  the  picture  which  I 
Iiave  drawn  of  modern  manners  j  there  is  almoft  as 
great  difficulty,  I  acknowledge,  to  juftify  French 
as  Greek  galJantryj  except  only,  that  the  former 
■  is  much  more  natural  and  agreeable  than  the  latter. 
J>ut  our  neighbours,  it  feems,  have  refolved  to  fa- 
crifice  fome  of  the  domeflic  to  the  fociable  plea- 
furesj  and  to  prefer  eafe,  freedom,  and  an  open 
commerce,  to  a  Uriel  fidelity  and  conftancy.  Thefe 
ends  are  both  good,  and  are  fomewhat  difficult  to 
reconcile  i  nor  need  we  be  furprifed,  if  the  cuiloms 
of  nations  incline  too  much,  fometimes  to  the  one 
iidc,  fometimes  to  the  other. 

The  molt  inviolable  attachment  to  the  laws  of  our 
country  is  every  v/here  acknowledged  a  capital  vir- 
tue :j  and  where  the  people  are  not  fo  happy,  as  to 
have  any  legiflature  but  a  fingle  perfon,  the  ftridt- 
eft  loyalty  is,  in  that  cafe,  the  trueft  patriotifm. 

Nothing  furely  can  be  more  abfurd  and  barbar- 
ous than  the  practice  of  duelling;  but  thofe,  who 
juftify  it,  fay,  that  it  begets  civility  and  good- 
manners.  And  a  duellifl:,  you  may  obferve,  always 
values  himfelf  upon  his  courage,  his  fenfe  of  ho- 
nour, his  fidelity  and  friendihip  -,  qualities,  which 
are  here  indeed  very  oddly  direded,  but  which  have 
been  elleemed  univerfally,  fince  the  foundation  of 
the  world. 

Have 


390  A     D  I   A   L  O   G   U   E. 

Have  the  gods  forbid  felf  murder  ?  An  Atheniaa 
allows,  that  it  ought  to  be  forborn.  Has  the  Dei- 
ty permitted  it  ?  A  Frenchman  allows,  that  death  is 
preferable  to  pain  and  infamy. 

You  fee  then,  continued  I,  that  the  principles 
upon  which  men  reafon  in  morals  are  always  the 
fame ;  though  the  conclufions  which  they  draw  are 
often  very  different.  That  they  all  reafon  aright 
with  regard  to  this  fubjeft,  more  than  with  regard 
to  any  other,  it  is  not  incumbent  on  any  moralift 
to  fhow.  It  is  fufficient,  that  the  original  princi- 
ples of  cenfure  or  blame  are  uniform,  and  that  er- 
roneous conclufions  can  be  corrected  by  founder 
reafoning  and  larger  experience.  Though  many 
ages  have  elapfed  fince  the  fall  of  Greece  and 
Rome;  though  many  changes  have  arrived  in  reli- 
gion, language,  laws,  and  cuftoms  j  none  of  thefe 
revolutions  has  ever  produced  any  confiderable  in- 
novation in  the  primary  fentiments  of  morals,  more 
than  in  thofe  of  external  beauty.  Some  minute 
differences,  perhaps,  may  be  obferyed  in  both. 
Horace  *  celebrates  a  low  forehead,  and  Anacreon 
joined  eye-brows f:  But  the  Apollo  and  the  Venus 
of  antiquity  are  ftill  our  models  for  male  and  fe- 
male beauty  ;  in  like  manner  as  the  character  of 
Scipio  continues  our  ftandard  for  the  glory  of  he- 
roes, and  that  of  Cornelia  for  the  honour  of  ma- 
trons. 

It  appears,  that  there  never  was  any  quality  re- 
commended by  any  one,  as  a  virtue  or  moral  ex- 
cellence, but  on  account  of  its  being  ujeful^  or 
agreeable  to  a  man  him/elf^  or  to  others.  For  what 
other  reafon  can  ever  be  affigned  for  praife  or  ap- 
probation ?  Or  where  would  be  the  fenfe  of  extol- 
ling a  good  charafter  or  aftion,  which,  at  the  fame 

time, 

♦  Epift.  lib.  i.  cpift.  7.     Alfo  lib.  i.  ode  3. 
I  Ode  28.     Petronius  (cap.  86.)  joins  both  ihcfe  circumftan- 
ces  as  beauties. 


A     D   I   A   L  O   G   U   E.  391 

lime,  is  allowed  to  be  good  for  fwthw^  ?  All  the 
differences,  therefore,  in  morals,  may  be  reduced 
to  this  one  general  foundation,  and  may  be  ac- 
counted for  by  the  different  views,  which  people 
take  of  thefe  circumftances. 

Sometimes  men  differ  in  their  judgment  about 
the  ufefulnef^  of  any  habit  or  adion  :  Sometimes 
alfo  the  peculiar  circumftances  of  things  render  one 
moral  quality  more  ufeful  than  others,  and  give  it 
a  peculiar  preference. 

It  is  no-t  furprifing,  that,  during  a  period  of  war 
and  -difcwder,  the  military  virtues  fliould  be  more 
celebrated  than  the  pacific,  and  attradl  more  the 
admiration  and  attention  of  mankind,  "  Flow 
*'  ufual  ivS  it,*'  fays  Tully  *,  "  to  find  Cimbrians, 
*'  CeltiberiajTiS,  and  other  Barbarians,  who  bear, 
*'  with  inflexible  conftancy,  all  the  fatigues  and 
*^  dangers  of  the  field  ;  but  are  immediately  dif- 
*'  pirited  UF.dtT  the  pain  and  hazard  of  a  languifh- 
**  ing  diftemper  :  While,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
**  Greeks  patiently  endure  the  flow  approaches  of 
**  death,  when  armed  with  ficknefs  and  difeafe ; 
^'  but  timoroufly  Hy  his  prefence,  whe-n  he  attacks 
"  them  violently  with  fwords  and  falchions  !'*  So 
<iifierent  is  even  the  fame  virtue  of  courage  among 
warlike  or  peaceful  nations  \  And  indeed,  we  may 
obferve,  that,  as  the  difference  between  war  and 
peace  is  the  greateft  that  arifes  among  nations  and 
public  focietics,  it  produces  alfo  the  greateft  varia- 
tions in  moral  fentiment,  and  diverfifics  the  moft 
our  ideas  of  virtue  and  perfonal  merit. 

Sometimes  too,  magnanimity,  greatnefs  of  mind, 
difdain  of  flavery,  inflexible  rigour  ^nd  integrity, 
may  better  fuit  the  circumilances  of  one  age  than 
thofe  of  another,  and  have  a  more  kindly  influence, 
both    on    public    affairs,     and    on    a    man's   own 

fafety 

*  Tufc.  Qncell.  lib.  ii. 


J92  A     D  I   A   L   O   G   U  E. 

Safety  and  advancement.  Our  idea  of  merit,  there- 
fore,, will  alfo  vary  a  little  with  thefe  variations; 
and  Labeo,  perhaps,  he  cenfured  for  the  fame 
qualities,  which  procured  Cato  the  highelh  appro- 
biition. 

A  degree  of  luxury  may  be  ruinous  and  pernici- 
ous in  a  native  of  Switzerland,  which  only  fofters 
the  arts,  and  encourages  induftry  in  a  Frenchman 
or  Englilhman.  We  are  not,  therefore,  to  expetl, 
either  the  fame  ientiments,  or  the  fame  laws  in 
Berne,  which  prevail  in  London  or  Paris. 

Different  cultoms  have  alfo  fome  influence  as 
well  as  different  util'ties;  and  by  giving  an  early 
biafs  to  the  mind,  may  produce  a  fuperior  propen- 
fity,  either  to  the  ufeful  or  the  agreeable  qualities; 
to  thofe  which  regard  felf,  or  thofe  which  extend 
to  fociety.  Thcfe  four  fources  of  moral  fentiment 
ftili  fubliil: ;  but  particular  accidents  may,  at  one 
time,  make  any  one  of  them  flow  with  greater 
abundance  than  at  another. 

The  cuftoms  of  fome  nations  fhut  up  the  wo- 
men from  all  focial  commerce  :  Thofe  of  others 
make  them  fo  effential  a  part  of  fociety  and 
converfation,  that,  except  where  bufinefs  is  tran- 
fatled,  the  male-fex  alone  are  fuppofed  almoft 
wholly  incapable  of  mutual  difcourfe  and  enter- 
tainment. As  this  difference  is  the  mofb  mate- 
rial that  can  happen  in  private  life,  it  muft  alfo 
produce  the  greatcft  variation  in  our  moral  fenti- 
ments. 

Of  all  nations  in  the  world,  where  polygamy 
was  not  allowed,  the  Greeks  feem  to  have  been 
the  mod  referved  in  their  commerce  with  the  fair 
fex,  and  to  have  impofed  on  them  the  ftri(5left 
laws  of  modelty  and  decency.  We  have  a  ilrong 
inftance  of  this  in  an  oration  of  Lyfias  *.  A 
widow  injured,    ruined,  undone,  calls    a   meeting 

of 

•  Orat.  33. 


A     D   I   A   L  O   G   U   E.  393 

of  a  few  of  her  neareft  friends  and  relations ; 
and  though  never  before  accuftomed,  fays  the 
orator,  to  fpeak  in  the  prefence  of  men,  the 
diftrefs  of  her  circumftances  conitrained  her  to 
lay  the  cafe  before  them.  The  very  opening  of 
her  mouth  in  fuch  company  required,  it  feems, 
an  apology. 

When  Demofthenes  profecuted  his  tutors,  to 
make  them  refund  his  patrimony,  it  became  ne- 
ceflary  for  him,  in  the  courfe  of  the  law-fuit, 
to  prove  that  the  marriage  of  Aphobus's  filler 
with  Oneter  was  entirely  fraudulent,  and  that, 
notwithftanding  her  Iham  marriage,  fhe  had  liv- 
ed with  her  brother  at  Athens  for  two  years  pad, 
ever  fince  her  divorce  from  her  former  hufband. 
And  it  is  remarkable,  that  though  thefe  were 
people  of  the  firft  fortune  and  diftindtion  in  the 
city,  the  orator  could  prove  this  fadt  no  way,  but 
by  calling  for  her  female  flaves  to  be  put  to  the 
queftion,  and  by  the  evidence  of  one  phyfician, 
who  had  feen  her  in  her  brother's  houfe  duri 
ing  her  illnefs  *.  So  referved  were  Greek  man- 
ners. 

We  may  be  aflTured,  that  an  extreme  purity  of 
manners  was  the  confequence  of  this  referve. 
Accordingly  we  find,  that,  except  the  fabulous 
(lories  of  an  Helen  and  a  Clytemneflra,  there 
fcarcely  is  an  inftance  of  any  event  in  the  Greek  hif- 
tory,  which  proceeded  from  the  intrigues  of  wo- 
men. On  the  other  hand,  in  modern  times,  par- 
ticularly in  a  neighbouring  nation,  the  females 
enter  into  all  tranfaftions  and  all  management  of 
church  and  Itate  :  And  no  man  can  exped  fuccefs, 
who  takes  not  care  to  obtain  their  good  graces. 
Harry  the  third,  by  incurring  the  difpleafure  of 
the  fair,  endangered  his  crown,  and  loft  his  life, 
as  much  as  by  his  indulgence  to  herefy. 

It 

*  In  Oneterem. 


394  A    D   I   A   L   O   G  U   E. 

It  is  needlefs  to  diflemble :  The  confequence  of 
a  very  free  commerce  between  the  fexes,  and  of 
their  living  much  together,  will  often  terminate  in 
intrigues  and  gallantry.  We  muft  facrifice  fome- 
what  of  the  ufefuly  if  we  be  very  anxious  to  ob- 
tain all  the  agreeable  qualities;  and  cannot  pretend 
to  reach  alike  every  kind  of  advantage.  Inftan- 
ces  of  licence,  daily  multiplying,  will  weaken 
the  fcandal  with  the  one  fex,  and  teach  the  other 
by  degrees,  to  adopt  the  famous  maxim  of  La 
Fontaine,  with  regard  to  female  infidelity,  that  if 
one  knows  //,  //  is  but  a  Jmall  matter  3  if  one  knows 
it  noty  it  is  nothing  *. 

Some  people  are  inclined  to  think,  that  the  beft 
way  of  adjulling  all  differences,  and  of  keeping 
the  proper  medium  between  the  agreeable  and 
the  ufeful  qualities  of  the  fex,  is  to  live  with 
them  after  the  naanner  of  the  Romans  and  the 
Englilh  (for  the  cuftoms  of  thefe  two  nation? 
feem  fimilar  in  this  refpedt  f)  5  that  is,  without 
gallantry  J,  and  without  jealoufy.  By  a  parity  of 
reafon,  the  culloms  of  the  Spaniards  and  of  the 
Italians  of  an  age  ago  (for  the  prefent  are  very 
different)  mufl  be  the  worfl  of  any  j  becaufe  they 
favour  both  gallantry  and  jealoufy. 

Nor  will  thefe  different  cultoms  of  nations  af- 
fedt  the  one  fex  only  :  Their  idea  of  perfonal 
merit  in  the  males  mufl  alfo  be  fomewhac  different 
with  regard,  at  leaft,  to  converfation,  addrefs, 
and  humour.  The  one  nation,  where  the  men 
live  much  apart,  will  naturally  more  approve  of 
prudence;    the  other  of   gaiety.      With    the   one 

fimplicity 

*   Qnand  on  le  f9alt  c'ell  pen  de  chofe  : 
Qiiand  on  I'ignore,  ce  n'elt  rien. 
t  See  NOTE    [XX]. 

%  The  gallantry  here  meant  is  that  of  amours  and  attachment*, 
not  that  of  complaifance,  which  is  as  much  paid  to  the  tair-fex 
in  England  as  in  any  other  country. 


A\ 


A     D   1   A   L   O   (;   U  E.  395 

fimplicity  of  manners  will  be  in  the  higheft  efteem  i 
•with  the  other,  politenefs.  The  one  will  diftin- 
giiifh  themiclves  by  good-fenfe  and  judgment; 
the  other,  by  tafte  and  delicacy.  The  eloquence 
of  the  former  will  fhine  moll  in  the  fenate  j  that 
of  the  other,  on  the  theatre. 

Thefe,  I  fay,  are  the  natural  effeds  of  fuch  cuf- 
toms.  For  it  muft  be  confefled,  that  chance  has 
a  great  influence  on  national  manners  j  and  many 
events  happen  in  fociety,  which  are  not  to  be  ac- 
counted for  by  general  rules.  Who  could  imagine, 
for  inftance,  that  the  Romans,  who  lived  freely 
v/ith  their  women,  fhould  be  very  indifferent  about 
mufic,  and  efteem  dancing  infamous  :  While  the 
Greeks,  who  never  almoft  faw  a  woman  but  in 
their  own  houfes,  were  continually  piping,  finging, 
and  dancing  ? 

The  differences  of  moral  fentiment,  which  na- 
turally arife  from  a  republican  or  monarchical  go- 
vernment, are  alfo  very  obvious  ;  as  well  as  thofc 
which  proceed  from  general  riches  or  poverty, 
union  or  faftion,  ignorance  or  learning.  1  fhall 
conclude  this  long  difcourfe  with  obferving,  that 
different  culloms  and  fituations  vary  not  the  ori- 
ginal ideas  of  merit  (however  they  may,  fome 
confequences)  in  any  very  effential  point,  and  pre- 
vail chiefly  with  regard  to  young  men,  who  can 
afpire  to  the  agreeable  qualities,  and  may  attempt 
to  pleafe.  The  Manner,  the  Ornaments,  the 
Graces,  which  fucceed  in  this  lliape,  are  more 
arbitrary  and  cafual  :  But  the  merit  of  riper 
years  is  almoft  every  where  the  fame ;  and  con- 
fifts  chiefly  in  integrity,  humanity,  ability,  know- 
ledge, and  the  other  more  folid  and  ufeful  quali- 
ties of  the  human  mind. 

What   you  infift    on,    replied  Palamedes,   may 

have  fome   foundation,    when   you    adhere  to  the 

maxims    of  common  life    and  ordinary  conduct. 

3  Experience 


39^  A     D   I   A   L   O   G   U   £. 

Experience  and  the  practice  of  the  world  readiK 
corre6b  any  great  extravagance  on  either  fide.    Bu 
what  fay  you  to  artificial  lives  and  manners  ?  How 
do  you  reconcile  the  maxims,  on  which,  in  diffe- 
rent ages  and  nations,  thefe  are  founded  ? 

What  do  you  underftand  by  artificial  lives  and 
manners  ?  faid  I.  I  explain  nrjyfelf,  replied  he. 
You  know,  that  religion  had,  in  ancient  times, 
very  little  influence  on  common  life,  and  that, 
after  men  had  performed  their  duty  in  facrifices  and 
prayers  at  the  temple,  they  thought,  that  the 
gods  left  the  reft  of  their  conduct  to  themfelves, 
and  were  little  pleafed  or  offended  with  thofe  vir- 
tues or  vices,  which  only  affefled  the  peace  and 
happinefs  of  human  fociety.  In  thofe  ages,  it  was 
the  bufinefs  of  philofophy  alone  to  regulate  men's  or- 
dinary behaviour  and  deporpnent ;  and  according- 
ly,, we  may  obferve,  that  this  being  the  fole  prin- 
ciple, by  which  a  man  could  elevate  himfelf  above 
his  fellows,  it  acquired  a  mighty  afcendant  over 
many,  and  produced  great  Angularities  of  maxims 
and  of  condu6t.  At  prcfent,  when  philofophy  has 
loll  the  allurement  of  novelty,  it  has  no  fuch  ex- 
tenfive  influence;  but  feems  to  confine  itfelfmoft- 
ly  to  fpeculations  in  the  clofet ;  in  the  fame  man- 
ner, as  the  ancient  religion  was  limited  to  facri- 
fices in  the  temple.  Its  place  is  now  fupplied  by 
the  modern  religion,  which  infpedls  our  whole 
conduct,  and  prefcribes  an  univerfal  rule  to 
our  adlions,  to  our  words,  to  our  very  thoughts 
and  inclinations ;  a  rule  fo  much  the  more  auftere, 
as  it  is  guarded  by  infinite,  though  diftant,  re- 
wards and  punifliments  ;  and  no  infraction  of  it 
can  ever  be  concealed  or  difguifed. 

Diogenes  is  the  mod  celebrated  model  of 
extravagant  philofophy.  Let  us  feck  a  pa- 
rallel to  him  in  modern  times.  We  fhall 
not  difgrace  any  philofophic  name  by  a  com- 
parifon     with    the     Dominies     or     Loyolas,     or 

any 


A     D   I  A   L  O   G   U   E.  397 

any  canonized  monk  or  friar.  Let  us  compare 
him  to  Pafcal,  a  man  of  parts  and  genius  as  well 
as  Diogenes  himfelf ;  and  perhaps  too,  a  man  of 
virtue,  had  he  allowed  his  virtuous  inclinations  to 
have  exerted  and  difplayed  themfelves. 

The  foundation  of  Diogenes's  condu6l  was  an 
endeavour  to  render  himfelf  an  independent  being 
as  much  as  polfible,  and  to  confine  all  his  wants 
and  defires  and  pleafures  within  himfelf  and  his 
own  mind  :  The  aim  of  Pafcal  was  to  keep  a  per- 
petual fenfc  of  his  dependence  before  his  eyes, 
and  never  to  forget  his  numberlefs  wants  and  in- 
firmities. The  ancient  fupported  himfelf  by  mag- 
nanimity, oilentation,  pride,  and  the  idea  of  his 
own  faperiority  above  his  fellow-creatures.  The 
modern  made  conilant  profefTion  of  humility  and 
abafement,  of  the  contempt  and  hatred  of  him- 
felfi  and  endeavoured  to  attain  thefe  fuppofed 
virtues,  as  far  as  they  are  attainable.  The  aufteri- 
ties  of  the  Greek  were  in  order  to  inure  himfelf 
to  hardfhips,  and  prevent  his  ever  fufFering : 
Thofe  of  the  Frenchman  were  embraced  merely 
for  their  own  fake,  and  in  order  to  fuffer  as  much 
as  polTible.  The  philofopher  indulged  himfelf  in 
the  moft  beaftly  pleafures,  even  in  public  :  The 
faint  refufed  himfelf  the  moft  innocent,  even  in 
private.  The  former  thought  it  his  duty  to  love 
his  friends,  and  to  rail  at  them,  and  reprove 
them,  and  fcold  them  :  The  latter  endeavoured 
to  be  abfolutely  indifferent  towards  his  neareft 
relations,  and  to  love  and  fpeak  well  of  his  ene- 
mies. The  great  objetl  of  Diogenes's  wit  was 
every  kind  of  fuperflition,  that  is  every  kind  of 
religion  known  in  his  time.  The  mortality  of 
the  foul  was  his  ftandard  pirinciple  ;  and  even 
his  fentiments  of  a  divine  providence  fcem  to 
have  been  licentious.  The  moft  ridiculous  fu- 
perftitions  directed  Pafcal's  faith  and  practice  ; 
and     an    extreme    contempt     of     this     life,      in 

compa- 


398  A     D   I   A   L  O  G   U  E. 

comparifon  of  the  future,   was  the  chief  foundation 
of  his  condudt. 

In  fuch  a  remarkable  contrafl  do  thefe  two  men 
Hand  :  Yet  both  of  them  have  met  with  general 
admiration  in  their  different  ages,  and  have  been 
propofed  as  models  of  imitation.  Where  then  is 
the  univerfal  flandard  of  morals,  which  you  talk 
of?  And  what  rule  fhall  we  eftablilli  for  the  many 
different,  nay  contrary  fentiments  of  mankind  ? 

An  experiment,  faid  I,  which  fucceeds  in  the  air, 
will  not  always  fucceed  in  a  vacuum.  \Vhe;i  men 
depart  from  the  maxims  of  common  reafon,  and 
affect  thefe  artificial  lives,  as  you  call  them,  no 
one  can  anfwer  for  what  will  pleafe  or  difpleafe 
them.  They  are  in  a  different  element  from  the 
reft  of  mankind;  and  the  natural  principles  of 
their  mind  play  not  with  the  fame  regularity,  as  if 
left  to  themfelves,  free  from  the  illufions  of  religi- 
ous fuperllition  or  philofophical  enthufiafm. 


T  H  F 


THE 


NATURAL    HISTORY 


O  F 


RELIGION. 


(    401     ) 


THE 


NATURAL    HISTORY 


O  F 


RELIGION. 


INTRODUCTION. 


A 


S  every  enquiry,  which  regards  religion,  is 
of  the  utnnofl:  importance,  there  are  two  quefti- 
ons  in  particular,  which  challenge  our  attention, 
to  wit,  that  concerning  its  foundation  in  reafon, 
and  that  concerning  its  origin  in  human  nature. 
Happily,  the  firfl  queftion,  which  is  the  moft  im- 
portant, admits  of  the  moll  obvious,  at  lead,  the 
cleared  folution.  The  whole  frame  of  nature  be- 
fpeaks  an  intelligent  author;  and  no  rational  en- 
quirer can,  after  ferious  rcfleftion,  fufpend  his 
belief  a  moment  with  regard  to  the  primary  prin- 
ciples of  genuine  Theifm  and  Religion.  But  the 
other  quedion,  concerning  the  origin  of  religioa 
in  human  nature,  is  expofed  to  fome  more  diiti- 
culty.  The  belief  of  invifible,  intelligent  power 
has  been  very  generally  difFufed  over  the  humari 
race,  in  all  places  and  in  all  agesj  but  it  has 
Vol.  II.  D  d  neither 


402     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

neither  perhaps  been  fo  univerial  as  to  admit  of  no 
exception,  nor  has  it  been  in  any  degree,  uni- 
form in  the  ideas,  which  it  has  fuggeited.  Some  na- 
tions have  been  difcovered,  who  entertained  no 
fentiments  of  Religion,  if  travellers  and  hiftori- 
ans  may  be  credited;  and  no  two  nations,  and 
fcarce  any  two  men,  have  ever  agreed  precifcly 
in  the  fame  fentiments.  It  would  appear,  there- 
fore, that  this  preconception  fprings  not  from  an 
original  inflind:  or  primary  imprellion  of  nature, 
fuch  as  gives  rife  to  felf-love,  affection  between 
the  fexes,  love  of  progeny,  gratitude,  refentment; 
fince  every  inftin£t  of  this  kind  has  been  found 
abfolutely  univerfal  in  all  nations  and  ages,  and 
has  always  a  precife  determinate  objed,  which  it 
inflexibly  purfues.  The  firll  religious  principles 
muft  be  fecondary;  fuch  as  may  eafily  be  per- 
verted by  various  accidents  and  caufes,  and  whofe 
operation  too,  in  fome  cafes,  may,  by  an  ex- 
traordinary concurrence  of  circumllances,  be  al- 
together prevented.  What  thofe  principles  are, 
which  give  rife  to  the  original  belief,  and  what 
thofe  accidents  and  cauies  are,  which  direct  its 
operation,  is  the  fubjedl  of  our   prefent  enquiry. 

Se<5l.  I.  T^hai  Polytbeifm  was  the  primary  Religion 
of  Men. 

It  appears  to  me,  that,  if  we  confider  the  im- 
provement of  human  fociety,  from  rude  begin- 
nings to  a  ftate  of  greater  perfedicn,  polytheifm 
or  idolatry  was,  and  necelfarily  muft  Iiave  been, 
the  firft  and  moft  ancient  religion  of  mankind. 
This  opinion  I  fliall  endeavour  to  confirm  by 
the   following   arguments. 

It  is  a  matter  of  fa6t  inconteftable,  that  about 
1700  years  ago  all  mankind  were  polytheiils. 
The  doubtful  and  trepticrd  principles  o\  a  tew 
philofophers,  or  ti-c  thcifm,  and  that  too  not  en- 
tirely 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion,     403 

tirely  pure,  of  one  or  two  nations,  form  no  ob- 
jection wortii  regarding.  Behold  then  the  clear 
tellimony  of  hiftory.  The  farther  we  mount  up 
into  antiquity,  the  more  do  we  find  mankind 
plunged  into  polytheifm.  No  marks,  no  fymp- 
toms  of  any  more  perfedl  religion.  The  molt  an- 
cient records  of  human  race  (till  prefent  us  with 
that  fyflem  as  the  popular  and  efbabiifhed  creed. 
The  north,  the  fouth,  the  eafl,  the  well,  give 
their  unanimous  teftimony  to  the  fame  fad.  What 
can   be  oppofed   to  fo  full   an   evidence? 

As  far  as  writing  or  hiftory  reaches,  mankind^ 
in  ancient  times,  appear  univerfally  to  have  beer^ 
polytheifts.  Shall  we  afTert,  that,  in  more  anci- 
ent times,  before  the  knowledge  of  letters,  or 
the  difcovery  of  any  art  or  fcience,  men  enter- 
tained the  principles  of  pure  theifm  .''  That  is, 
while  they  were  ignorant  and  barbarous,  they  dif- 
covered  truth :  But  fell  into  error,  as  foon  as 
they   acquired  learning  and  politenefs. 

But  in  this  aflertion  you  not  only  contradict 
all  appearance  of  probability,  but  alfo  our  pre- 
fent experience  concerning  the  principles  and  opi- 
nions of  barbarous  nations.  The  favage  tribes  of 
America,  Africa,  and  Afia  are  all  idolaters.  Not  a 
fingle  exception  to  this  rule.  Infomuch,  that,  were  a 
traveller  to  tranfport  himfelf  into  any  unknown  re- 
gion ;  if  he  found  inhabitants  cultivated  with  arts 
and  fcience,  though  even  upon  that  fuppofition 
there  are  odds  againft  their  being  theifts,  yet 
could  he  not  fafely,  till  farther  inquuy,  pronounce 
any  thing  on  that  head  :  But  if  he  found  them 
ignorant  and  barbarous,  he  might  beforehand  de- 
clare them  idolaters;  and  there  fcarcely  is  a  pof- 
fibility   of  his   being  miftaken. 

It  feems  certain,  that,  according  to  the  natural 
progrefs  ot  human  thought,  the  ignorant  multitude 
mult  firft  entertain  Ibme  groveling  and  familiar  no- 

D  d  2  tioa 


404    The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

tion  of  fuperior  powers,  before  they  flretch  their 
conception  to  that  perfeft  Being,  who  beftowed 
order  on  the  whole  frame  of  nature.  We  may  as 
reafonably  imagine,  that  men  inhabited  palaces  be- 
fore huts  and  cottages,  or  ftiidied  geometry  before 
agriculture;  as  aflert  that  the  Deity  appeared  to 
them  a  pure  fpirit,  omnifcient,  omnipotent,  and 
omniprefent,  before  he  was  apprehended  to  be  a 
powerful,  though  limited  being,  with  human  paf- 
fions  and  appetites,  limbs  and  organs.  The  mind 
rifes  gradually,  from  inferior  to  fuperior:  By  ab- 
ftrafling  from  what  is  imperfedl,  it  forms  an  idea 
of  perfedlion  :  And  (lowly  diftinguifhing  the  nobler 
parts  of  its  own  frame  from  the  grolTer,  it  learns 
to  transfer  only  the  former,  much  elevated  and  rer- 
iined,  to  its  divinity.  Nothing  could  difturb  this 
natural  progrefs  of  thought,  but  fome  obvious  and 
invincible  argument,  which  might  immediately  lead 
the  mind  into  the  pure  principles  of  theifm,  and 
make  it  overleap,  at  one  bound,  the  vaft  interval 
which  is  interpofed  between  the  human  and  the  di- 
vine nature.  But  though  I  allow,  that  the  order 
and  frame  of  the  univerfe,  when  accurately  examin- 
ed, affords  fuch  an  argument;  yet  I  can  never  think, 
that  this  confideration  could  have  an  influence  on 
mankind,  when  they  formed  their  firft  rude  notions 
of  religion. 

The  caufes  of  fuch  objc6ts,  as  are  quite  familiar 
to  us,  never  ftrike  our  attention  or  curiofity ;  and 
however  extraordinary  or  furprifing  thefe  objeds  in 
themfelves,  they  are  palTed  over,  by  the  raw  and 
ignorant  multitude,  without  much  examination,  or 
enquiry.  Adam,  rifmg  at  once,  in  paradife,  and 
in  the  full  perfetlion  of  his  faculties,  would  natu- 
rally, as  reprefented  by  Milton,  be  aftonillied  at 
the  glorious  appearances  of  nature,  the  heavens,  the 
air,  the  earth,  his  own  organs  and  members ;  and 
would  be  led  to  afk,  whence  this  wonderful  fcene 
arofe.     But  a  barbaious,  neceflitous  animal  (fuch  as 

a  man 


The  Natural  History  of  Rhligion.     405 

a  man  is  on  the  firft  origin  of  fociety),  preflcd  by 
fuch  n'-imerous  wants  and  pallions,  has  no  leifure  to 
admire  the  regular  face  of  nature,  to  make  enqui- 
ries concerning  the  caufe  of  thofe  objetls,  to  which 
from  his  infancy  he  has  been  gradually  accurtomed. 
On  the  contrary,  the  more  regular  and  uniform, 
that  is,  the  more  perfedl  nature  appears,  the  more 
is  he  familiarized  to  it,  and  the  lefs  inclined  to 
fcrutinize  and  examine  it.  A  monftrous  birth  ex- 
cites his  curiofity,  and  is  deemed  a  prodigy.  It 
alarms  him  from  its  novelty;  and  immediately  fpts 
him  a  trembling,  and  facrificing,  and  praying.  But 
an  animal,  compleat  in  all  its  limbs  and  organs, 
is  to  him  an  ordinary  fpe6lacle,  and  produces  no 
religious  opinion  or  afFeftion.  Afk  him,  whence 
that  animal  arofe;  he  will  tell  youj  from  the  copu- 
lation of  its  parents.  And  thefe,  whence  ?  From 
the  copulation  of  theirs.  A  few  removes  fatisfy  his 
curiofity,  and  fet  the  objeft  at  fuch  a  diftance,  that 
he  entirely  loles  fight  of  them.  Imagine  not,  that 
he  will  fo  much  as  dart  the  queftion,  whence  the 
firft  animal;  much  lefs,  whence  the  whole  fyftem 
or  united  fabric  of  the  univerfe  arofe.  Or,  if  you« 
ftart  fuch  a  queftion  to  him,  expect  not,  that  he 
will  employ  his  mind  with  any  anxiety  about  a  fub- 
jedt,  fo  remote,  fo  uninterefting,  and  which  fo 
much  exceeds  the  bounds  of  his  capacity. 

But  farther,  if  men  were  at  firft  led  into  the  be- 
lief of  one  Supreme  Being,  by  reafoning  from  the 
frame  of  nature,  they  could  never  poffibly  leave 
that  belief,  in  order  to  embrace  polytheifm ; 
but  the  fame  principles  of  reafon,  which  at  firft  pro- 
duced and  diffufed  over  mankind,  fo  magnificent  an 
opinion,  muft  be  able,  with  greater  facility,  to  pre- 
ferve  it.  The  firft  invention  and  proof  of  any  doc- 
trine is  much  more  difficult  than  the  fiipportingand 
retaining  of  it. 

There 


4o6     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

There  is  a  great  difference  between  hiftorical 
fa6ts  and  fpeculative  opinions ;  nor  is  the  know- 
ledge of  the  one  propagated  in  the  fame  manner 
with  that  of  the  other.  An  hiftorical  fa6t,  while 
it  paffes  by  oral  tradition  from  eye-witneffes  and 
contemporaries,  is  difguifed  in  every  fuccelTive 
narration,  and  may  at  laft  retain  but  very  fmall, 
if  any,  refemblance  of  the  original  truth,  on  which 
it  was  founded.  The  frail  memories  of  men,  their 
love  of  exaggeration,  their  fupine  careleflhefs ; 
thefe  principles,  if  not  corredled  by  books  and 
writing,  foon  pervert  the  account  of  hiftorical 
events  i  where  argument  or  reafoning  has  little 
or  no  place,  nor  can  ever  recal  the  truth,  which 
has  once  efcaped  thofe  narrations.  It  is  thus  the 
fables  of  Hercules,  Thefeus,  Bacchus  are  fuppof- 
ed  to  have  been  originally  founded  in  true  hif- 
tory,  corrupted  by  tradition.  But  with  regard 
to  fpeculative  opinions,  the  cafe  is  far  otherwife. 
If  thefe  opinions  be  founded  on  arguments  fo 
clear  and  obvious  as  to  carry  conviftion  with 
the  generality  of  mankind,  the  fame  arguments, 
".v/hich  at  firft  diffufed  the  opinions,  will  ftill  pre- 
ferve  them  in  their  original  purity.  If  the  ar- 
guments be  more  abftrufe,  and  more  remote 
from  vulgar  apprehenfion,  the  opinions  will  always 
be  confined  to  a  few  perfons ;  and  as  foon  as 
men  leave  the  contemplation  of  the  arguments,  the 
opinions  will  immediately  be  loft  and  buried  in 
oblivion.  Whichever  fide  of  this  dilemma  we  take, 
it  muft  appear  impollible,  that  theifiii  could,  from 
reafoning,  have  been  the  primary  religion  of  hu- 
man race,  and  afterwards,  by  its  corruption,  given 
birth  to  polytheifm  and  to  all  the  various  fuper- 
ititions  of  the  heathen  world.  Reafon,  when  ob- 
vious, prevents  thefe  corruptions:  When  abftrufe, 
it  keeps  the  principles  entirely  from  the  know- 
ledge of  the  vulgar,  who  arc  alone  liable  to  cor- 
rupt any  principle  or  opinion. 

Sect. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.      407 


Sect.   II.     Origin  of  Polytheifm, 

If  we  would,  therefore,  indulge  our  curiofity,  in 
■enquiring  concerning  the  origin  of  religion,  wc 
muft  turn  our  thoughts  towards  polytheifnn,  the 
primitive  religion  of  uninftrufted  mankind. 

Were  men  led  into  the  apprehenfion  of  invifible, 
intelligent  power  by  a  contemplation  of  the  works 
of  nature,  they  could  never  poifibly  entertain  any 
conception  but  of  one  fingle  being,  who  bellowed 
exiflcnce  and  order  on  this  vail  machine,  and 
adjulted  all  its  parts,  according  to  one  regular  plan 
or  connected  fyllem.  For  though,  to  perfons  of 
a  certain  turn  of  mind,  it  may  not  appear  al- 
together abfurd,  that  feveral  independent  beings, 
endowed  with  fuperior  wifdom,  might  confpire 
in  the  contrivance  and  execution  of  one  regular 
plan  ;  yet  is  this  a  merely  arbitrary  fuppofition, 
which,  even  if  allowed  polhble,  muft  be  confefled 
neither  to  be  fupported  by  probability  nor  ne- 
ceflity.  All  things  in  the  univ^rfe  ar^  evidently 
of  a  piece.  Every  thing  is  adjulted  to  every 
thing.  One  defign  prevails  throughout  the  whole. 
And  this  uniformity  leads  the  mind  to  acknow- 
ledge one  author  ;  becaufe  the  conception  of  dif- 
ferent authors,  without  any  diflinction  of  attri- 
butes or  operations,  ferves  only  to  give  perplexi- 
ty to  the  imagination,  without  beftowing  any  fa- 
tisfacfticn  on  the  underllanding.  The  ftatue  of 
Laocoon,  as  we  learn  from  Pliny,  was  the  work 
of  three  artifts :  But  it  is  certain,  that,  were  we  not 
told  fo,  we  lliould  never  have  imagined,  that  a 
groupe  of  figures,  cut  from  one  itone,  and  unit- 
ed in  one  plan,  was  not  the  work  and  contrivance 
of  one  fuatuary.  To  afcribe  any  fingle  efFe<5l  to 
the  combination  of  feveral  caufes,  is  not  furely  a 
natural  and  obvious  fuppofition. 

On 


4o8      The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

On  the  other  hand,  if,  leaving  the  works  of  na- 
ture, we  trace   the  footfteps  of  invifible  power  in 
the  various  and  contrary  events  of  human  life,  we 
are  necefTarily  led   into  polytheifm   and   to  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  feveral  limited  and  imperfeft  dei- 
ties.    Storms    and  tempells  ruin  what  is  nourifhed 
^by  the  fun.     The  fun  deflroys  what  is  foftered  by 
the  moifture  of  dews  and  rains.     War  may  be  fa- 
vourable to  a  nation,  whom  the  inclemency  of  the 
feafons   afflifbs  with  famine.     Sicknefs  and   pefti- 
lence  may  depopulate  a  kingdom,  amidft  the  moft: 
profufe  plenty.     The  fame   nation    is  not,  at  the 
fame  time,  equally  fuccefsful  by  fea  and  by  land. 
And  a  nation,  which  now  triumphs  over  its  ene- 
mies, may  anon   fubmit  to  their  m.ore  profperous 
arms.     In    fliort,  t!ie  condu6V  of  events,  or  what 
we  call  the  plan  of  a  particular  providence,  is   fo 
full    of  variety   and    uncertainty,  that,  if  we  fup- 
pofe  it  immediately  ordered  by  any  intelligent  be- 
ings, we  muft  acknowledge  a  contrariety  in  their 
dcfigns  and  intentions,  a  conflant  combat  of  op- 
pofite  powers,  and  a  repentance  or  change  of  in- 
tention   in '  the   fame  power,    from   impotence   or 
levity.     Each  nation  has   its  tutelar  deity.     Each 
element  is  fubjefted  to  its  invifible  power  or  agent. 
The  province  of  each  god  is  feparate  from  that  of 
another.     Nor  are  the  operations  of  the  fame  god 
always  certain   and    invariable.      To-day  he    pro- 
tefts :  To-morrow  he  abandons    us.     Prayers  and 
facrifices,  rites   and    ceremonies,  well   or   ill   per- 
formed, are   the  fources  of  his  favour  or  enmity, 
and    produce  all  the  good  or  ill  fortune,  v/hich  are 
to  be  found  amongft  mankind. 

We  m.ay  conclude,  therefore,  that,  in  all  nati- 
ons, which  have  embraced  polytheifm,  the  firfl: 
ideas  of  religion  arofe  not  from  a  contemplation 
of  the  works  of  nature,  but  from  a  concern  with 
regard  to  the  events  of  life,  and  from  the  incef- 
fant   hopes  and  fears,    which  actuate   the    human 

mind. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.      409 

mind.     Accordingly,  we   find,    that  all    idolaters, 
having  feparated  the  provinces  of  their  deities,  have 
recourfe  to  that  invifible  agent,  to  whole  authority 
they  are    immediately   fubjccled,  and   whofe  pro- 
vince  it    is  to  fuperintend    that  courfe  of  aflions, 
in   which  they  are,  at  any  time,  engaged.     Juno 
is   invoked  at  marriages  ;  Lucina  at  births.     Nep- 
tune receives  the  prayers  of  feamen  -,  and   Mars  of 
warriors.     The  hufbandman  cultivates  his  field  un- 
der the  proteflion  of  Ceres  ;  and  the  merchant  ac- 
knowledges the  authority  of  Mercury.     Each  na- 
tural event  is  fuppofed  to  be  governed  by  fome  in- 
telligent agent ;  and  nothing  profperous  or  adverfc 
can  happen  in  life,  which  may  not  be  the  fubjcdt 
of  peculiar  prayers  or  thankfgivings  * 

It  muft    neceflarily,  indeed,    be  allowed,    that, 
in  order  to  carry  men's  attention  beyond   the  pre- 
fent  courfe  of  things,  or  lead  them  into  any  infer- 
ence concerning  invifible   intelligent   power,  they 
mufl  be  aduated  by  fom.e  pafiion,  which  prompts 
their  thought  and  reflexion  j   fome   motive,  which 
urges  their  firft  enquiry.     But  what  pafilon  fliail  we 
here  have  recourfe  to,  for  explaining  an  efFeA  of 
fuch  mighty  confequence  ?  Not  fpeculative  curio- 
fity  furely,  or  the  pure  love  of  truth.     That  mo- 
tive  is  too   refined  for  fuch  grofs  apprehenfions  ; 
and  would  lead  men  into  enquiries  concerning  the 
frame  of  nature,  a  fubjedl  too  large   and  compre- 
henfive   for  their  narrow   capacities.     No  pafTions, 
therefore,  can  be  fuppofed  to  work  upon  fuch  bar- 
barians, but  the  ordinary  aff^e6bions  of  human  life; 
the   anxious    concern    for   happinefs,  the   dread  of 
future  mifery,  the  terror  of  death,  the  thirft  of  re- 
venge, the  appetite  for  food  and  other  necefiaries. 
Agitated  by  hopes  and  fears  of  this  natjre,  efpeci- 
ally   the  latter,  men  fcrutinize,  with  a  trembling- 

curiofity, 

•  beeNOTE  [YY]. 


4IO     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

curiofity,  the  courfe  of  future  caufes,  and  exa- 
mine the  various  and  contrary  events  of  human 
life.  And  in  this  difordered  fcene,  with  eyes  dill 
more  difordered  and  aftonilhed,  they  fee  the  firft 
obfcure  traces  of  divinity. 

Sect.  III.    The  Jam  Jubje^  continued. 

We  are  placed  in  this  world,  as  in  a  great  the-, 
atre,  where  the  true  fprings  and  caufes  of  every 
event  are  entirely  concealed  from  us^  nor  have  we 
cither  fufficient  wifdom  to  forefee,  or  power  to 
prevent  thofe  ills,  with  which  we  are  continually 
threatened.  We  hang  in  perpetual  fufpence  be- 
tween life  and  death,  health  and  ficknefs,  plenty 
and  want;  which  are  diftributed  amongft  the  hu- 
man fpecies  by  fecret  and  unknown  caufes,  whofe 
operation  is  oft  unexpefted,  and  always  unaccount- 
able. Thefe  unknown  caujesy  then,  become  the 
conftant  objedl  of  our  hope  and  fear ;  and  while 
the  paflions  are  kept  in  perpetual  alarm  by  an  anx- 
ious expedtation  of  the  events,  the  imagination 
is  equally  employed  in  forming  ideas  of  thofe 
powers,  on  which  we  have  fo  entire  a  depen- 
dance.  Could  men  anatomize  nature,  according 
to  the  moft  probable,  at  leaft  the  moft  intelli- 
gible phiiofophy,  they  would  find,  that  thefe 
caufes  are  nothing  but  the  particular  fabric  and 
ftru»5ture  of  the  minute  parts  of  their  own  bodies 
and  of  external  objects  :  and  that,  by  a  regular 
and  conftant  machinery,  all  the  events  are  pro- 
duced, about  which  they  are  fo  much  concerned. 
But  this  phiiofophy  exceeds  the  comprehenfion  of 
the  ignorant  multitude,  who  can  only  conceive 
the  unknown  caujes  in  a  general  and  confufed 
manner ;  though  their  imagination,  perpetually 
employed  on  the  fame  fubjeft,  muft  labour  to  form 
fome  particular  and  diftinct  idea  of  them.     The 

more 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     411 

inorc  they  confider  thcfe  caufes  themfelves,  and  the 
uncertainty  of  their  operation,  the  Icfs  fatisfacli- 
tion  do  they  meet  with  in  their  refcarches ;  and, 
however  unwilling,  they  muft  at  laft  have  aban- 
doned fo  arduous  an  attempt,  were  it  not  for  a 
propenfity  in  human  nature,  which  leads  into  a 
fyftcm,  that  gives  them  fome  fatisfaftion. 

There  is  an  univerfal  tendency  among  mankind 
to  conceive  all  beings  like  themfdves,  and  to  tranf- 
fer  to  every  objefb,  thofe  qualities,  with  which 
they  are  familiarly  acquainted,  and  of  which  they 
are  intimately  confcious.  We  find  human  faces 
in  the  moon,  armies  in  the  clouds;  and  by  a  na- 
tural propenfity,  if  not  correfled  by  experience 
and  refleftion,  afcribe  malice  or  good-will  to  eve- 
ry thing,  that  hurts  or  pleafes  us.  Hence  the  fre- 
quency and  beauty  of  the  profopcpccia  in  poetry  j 
where  trees,  mountains  and  flreams  are  perfonifi- 
ed,  and  the  inanimate  parts  of  nature  acquire  ^tn- 
timent  and  paflion.  And  though  thefe  poetical  fi- 
gures and  expreffions  gain  not  on  the  belief,  they 
may  ferve,  at  leaft,  to  prove  a  certain  tendency  in 
the  imagination,  without  which  they  could  neither 
be  beautiful  nor  natural.  Nor  is  a  river-god  or 
hamadryad  always  taken  for  a  mere  poetical  or 
imaginary  perfonage ;  but  may  fometimes  enter 
into  the  real  creed  of  the  ignorant  vulgar;  while 
each  grove  or  field  is  reprefented  as  poflefTed  of  a 
particular  genius  or  invifible  power,  which  inha- 
bits and  prote(fts  it.  Nay,  philofophers  cannot  en- 
tirely exempt  themfelves  from  this  natural  frailty  ; 
but  have  oft  alcribed  to  inanimate  matter  the  hor- 
r ov  o(  2i  vaammy  lympathies,  antipathies,  and  other 
afFeclions  of  human  nature.  The  abfurdity  is  not 
lefs,  while  we  caft  our  eyes  upwards  ;  and  transfer- 
ring, as  is  too  ufual,  human  paffions  and  infirmi- 
ties to  the  deity,  reprefent  him  as  jealous  and  re- 
vengeful, capricious  and  partial,  and,  in  fliort,  a 
wicked  and  foolifh  man,  in  every  refpeft  but  his 

fuperior 


412    The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

fuperior  power  and  authority.  No  wonder,  then, 
that  mankind,  being  placed  in  fuch  an  abfolute  ig- 
norance of  caufes,  and  being  at  the  fame  time  fo 
anxious  concerning  their  future  fortune,  fhould 
immediately  acknowledge  a  dependence  on  invifi- 
ble  powers,  pofleffed  of  fentiment  and  intelligence. 
The  unknown  caufes y  which  continually  employ  their 
thought,  appearing  always  in  the  fame  afpeft,  are 
all  apprehended  to  be  of  the  fame  kind  or  fpecies. 
Nor  is  it  long  before  we  afcribe  to  them  thought 
and  reafon  and  pafTion,  and  fometimes  even  the 
limbs  and  figures  of  men,  in  order  to  bring  them 
nearer  to  a  refemblance  with  ourfelves. 

In  proportion  as  any  man's  courfe  of  life  is  go- 
verned by  accident,  we  always  find,  that  he  en- 
creafes  in  fuperftition ;  as  may  particularly  be  ob- 
ferved  ofgamefters  and  failors,  who,  though,  of  all 
mankind,  the  leaft  capable  of  ferious  refiedliion, 
abound  moft  in  frivolous  and  fuperftitious  appre- 
henfions.  The  gods,  fays  Coriolanus  in  Dionyfi- 
iis  *,  have  an  influence  in  every  afi^air;  but  above 
all,  in  war;  where  the  event  is  fo  uncertain.  All 
human  life,  efpecially  before  the  inftitutlon  of  order 
and  good  government,  being  fubjed  to  fortuitous 
accidents;  it  is  natural,  that  fuperftition  fhould 
prevail  every  where  in  barbarous  ages,  and  put 
men  on  the  moft  earneft  enquiry  concerning  thofe 
invifible  powers,  who  difpofe  of  their  happinefs  or 
mifery.  Ignorant  of  aftronomy  and  the  anatomy 
of  plants  and  animals,  and  too  little  curious  to 
obferve  the  admirable  adjuftment  of  final  caufes ; 
they  remain  ftill  unacquainted  with  a  firft  and  fu- 
preme  creator,  and  with  that  infinitely  and  perfedV 
ipirlt,  v/ho  alone,  by  his  almighty  will,  beliowed 
order  on  the  whole  frame  of  nature.  Such  a  magni- 
ficent idea  is  too  big  for  their  narrow  conceptions, 

which, 

*  Lib.  viil. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     413 

which  can  neither  obferve  the  beauty  of  the  work, 
nor  connprehend  the  grandeur  of  its  author.  They 
fuppofe  their  deities,  however  potent  and  invifi- 
ble,  to  be  nothing  but  a  fpecies  of  human  crea- 
tures, perhaps  raifed  from  among  mankind,  an4 
retaining  all  human  paflions  and  appetites,  to"- 
gether  with  corporeal  limbs  and  organs.  Such 
limited  beings,  though  mafters  of  human  fate,  be^ 
ing,  each  of  them,  incapable  of  extending  his  in- 
fluence every  where,  muft  be  vaftly  multiplied, 
in  order  to  anfwer  that  variety  of  events,  which 
happen  over  the  whole  face  of  nature.  Thus 
every  place  is  ftored  with  a  crowd  of  local  dei- 
ties; and  thus  polytheifm  has  prevailed,  and  ftill 
prevarls,  among  the  greatell  part  of  uninflirudled 
mankind  *. 

Any  of  the  human  affeftions  may  lead  us  into 
the  notion  of  invifible,  intelligent  power;  hope  as 
well  as  fear,  gratitude  as  well  as  affliftion :  But 
if  we  examine  our  own  hearts,  or  obferve  what 
pafles  around  us,  we  fhall  find,  that  men  are  much 
oftener  thrown  on  their  knees  by  the  melancholj^ 
than  by  the  agreeable  pafTions.  JProfperity  is  ea- 
fily  received  as  our  due,  and  few  queftions  are 
alked  concerning  its  caufe  or  author.  It  begets 
cheerfulnefs  and  adlivity  and  alacrity  and  a  lively 
enjoyment  of  every  focial  and  fenfual  pleafurc : 
And  during  this   ftate   of  mind,  men   have  little 

leifure 

*  The  following  lines  of  Euripides  are  fo  much  to  the  prc- 
fent  purpofe,  thai  I  cannot  forbear  quoting  them  : 

Of*  sfiy  aSiy  OTirov,   »T  syj~o^((K, 
Out  ixv  ntuxui?  -nrpot-craorla  /uh  -arpa^ei)'  xoDtanS". 
^vp^a-i  i'oiv'i'oi  ^ioi  ■•nra,A(»  Ti  jcxi  'Cjfocruj, 
TcLfctyuov  £VTi9£v/ef,  as  (lyycuijix 
litafiiY  oct/lcf,  Hecuba. 

"  There  is  nothing  fecure  in  the  world  ;  no  glory,  no  prof- 
perity.  ^  The  gods    tofs    all    life    into  confuiion  ;  mix  every 
•'  thing  with  its  reverfe  ;  that  all  of  us,  from  our  ignorance  and 
"  uncertainty,  may  pay  them  the  more  worlhip  and  reverence." 


414     The  Natural  History  of  Religion, 

leifure  or  inclination  to  think  of  the  unknown  in- 
vifible  regions.  On  the  other  hand,  every  dif" 
aftrous  accident  alarms  us,  and  fets  us  on  en- 
quiries concerning  the  principles  whence  it  arofe  : 
Apprehenfions  fpring  up  with  regard  to  futurity : 
And  the  mind,  funk  into  diffidence,  terror,  and 
melancholy,  has  recourfe  to  every  method  of  ap- 
p'eafing  thofe  fecret  intelligent  powers,  on  whom 
our  fortune  is  fuppofed  entirely  to  depend. 

No  topic  is  more  ufual  with  all  popular  di- 
vines than  to  difplay  the  advantages  of  affli(flion, 
in  bringing  men  to  a  due  fcnfe  of  religion  ;  by 
fubduing  their  confidence  and  fenfuality,  which, 
in  times  of  profperity,  make  them  forgetful  of  a 
divine  providence.  Nor  is  this  topic  confined 
merely  to  modern  religions.  The  ancients  have 
alfo  employed  it.  Fortune  has  never  liberally ^ 
without  envy^  fays  a  Greek  hiflorian  *,  bejiowed  an 
unmixed  happinejs  on  mankind ;  but  with  all  her  gifts 
has  ever  conjoined  Jome  dijajirous  circumjiance,  in 
order  to  chajiize  men  into  a  reverence  for  the  godsj 
whomy  in  a  continued  courfe  of  profperity ^  they  are 
apt  to  neglect  and  forget. 

What  age  or  period  of  life  is  the  moft  addicled 
to  fuperftition  ?  The  weakeft  and  moft  timid. 
What  fex  ?  The  fame  anfwer  muft  be  given. 
The  leaders  and  examples  of  every  kind  of  fuperfiition^ 
fays  Strabo  f,  are  the  'women.  Theje  excite  the 
men  to  devotion  and fupplicationSy  and  the  obfervance 
of  religious  days.  It  is  rare  to  meet  with  one  that 
lives  apart  from  the  females ^  and  yet  is  addicted  to 
Juch  pradlices.  And  nothing  can,  for  this  reafon,  be 
more  improbable.,  than  the  account  given  of  an  order 
of  men  among  the  Getes,  who  pra5lifed  celibacy,  and 
were  notwithfiandlng  the  tnojl  religious  fanatics. 
A  method  of  rcafoning,  which  would  lead  us  to 
entertain  a  bad  idea  of  the   devotion  of  monks ; 

did 

•  Diod.  Sic.  lib.  iii.  f  Lib.  vii. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.      415 

did  we  not  know  by  an  experience,  not  fo  conn- 
mon,  perhaps,  in  Strabo's  days,  that  one  may 
pradife  celibacy,  and  profeis  chaflity;  and  yet 
maintain  the  clofeft  connexions  and  moft  entire 
fympathy  with  that  timorous    and  pious   fex. 

Sect.  IV.     Deities  not  conjidered  as  creators  or  for- 
mers of  the  world. 

The  only  point  of  theology,  in  which  we  Ihall 
find  a   confent   of   mankind   almofb  univerfal,  is, 
that  there  is    invifible,    intelligent  power  in  the 
world :  But   whether    this    power  be    fupreme  or 
fubordinate,    whether  confined    to   one  being,    or 
diltributed    among  feveral,    what  attributes,  qua- 
lities, connexions,    or    principles   of  a6lion  ought 
to    be   afcribed  to    thofe    beings ;     concerning  all 
thefe  points,  there   is   the  wideft  difference  in  the 
popular  fyllems  of  theology.      Our   anceftors   in 
Europe,    before  the   revival   of   letters,    believed, 
as  we  do  at  prefent,  that  there  was  one  fupreme 
God,  the  author  of  nature,  whofe  power,  though 
in   itfelf  uncontroulable,  was  yet  often  exerted  by 
the    interpofition   of  his    angels    and    fubordinate 
minifters,     who     executed     his     facred     purpofes. 
But  they  aifo   believed,    that  all    nature   was   full 
of  other  invifible  powers  ;  fairies,  goblins,  elves, 
fprights ;    beings,  ftronger  and  mightier  than  men, 
but    much    inferior  to    the   celelliai    natures,  who 
furround  the  throne  of  God.     Now,  fuppofe,  that 
any  one,  in   thofe   ages,  had  denied  the  exiftence 
of  God  and   of  his   angels ;     would  not  his  impi- 
ety juftly  have   deferved   the   appellation  of  athe- 
ifm,  even    though    he  had  ftill    allowed,   by  fome 
odd  cajTicious    reafoning,  that  the  popular  ftories 
of  elves  and    fairies  were  juft  and    well   ground- 
ed ?    The   difference,  on   the   one   hand,  between 
fuch  a  pcrfon   and  a    genuine  theift   is  infinitely 

greater 


4i6      The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

greater  than  that,  on  the  other,  between  him  and 
one  that  abfolutely  excludes  all  invifible  intelligent 
power.  And  it  is  a  fallacy,  merely  from  the  ca- 
fual  refemblance  of  names,  without  any  confor- 
mity of  meaning,  to  rank  fuch  oppofitc  opinions 
under   the  fame  denomination. 

To  any  one,  who  confiders  juftly  of  the  mat- 
ter, it  will  appear,  that  the  gods  of  all  polythe- 
ifts  are  no  better  than  the  elves  or  fairies  of 
our  anceftors,  and  merit  as  little  any  pious  wor- 
fhip  or  veneration.  Thefe  pretended  religionifts 
are  really  a  kind  of  fuperftitious  atheifts,  and 
acknowledge  no  being,  that  correfponds  to  our 
idea  of  a  deity.  No  firft  principle  of  mind  or 
thought:  No  fupreme  government  and  adminif- 
tration  :  No  divine  contrivance  or  intention  in  the 
fabric  of  the  world. 

The  Chinefe,  when  *  their  prayers  are  not  an- 
fwered,  beat  their  idols.  The  deities  of  the  Lap- 
landers are  any  large  ftone  which  they  meet  with 
of  an  extraordinary  fhape  f.  The  Egyptian  my- 
thologifts,  in  order  to  account  for  animal  worfhip, 
faid,  that  the  gods,  purfued  by  the  violence  of 
earth-born  men,  who  were  their  enemies,  had  for- 
merly been  obliged  to  difguife  themfelves  under 
the  femblance  of  beafts  J.  The  Caunii,  a  nation 
in  the  IcfTer  Afia,  refolving  to  admit  no  Itrange 
gods  among  them,  regularly,  at  certain  feafons, 
affembled  themfelves  compleatly  armed,  beat  the 
air  with  their  lances,  and  proceeded  in  that  man- 
ner to  their  frontiers ;  in  order,  as  they  faid,  to 
expel  the  foreign  deities  Ij.  Not  even  the  immortal 
godsy  faid  fome  German  nations  to  Csefar,  are  a 
match  for  the  Suevi  §. 

Many 

•  Peter  le  Com pte.  f  Rcgnard,  Voiage  de  Laponie. 

X  Diod.  Sic.  lib.  i.  Lucian,  de  Sacrificiis.  Ovid  alludes  to 
the  fame  tradition,  Metam.  lib.  v.  1.  321.  So  alfo  Manilius, 
lib.  iv.  II   Herodot.  lib.  i. 

§  Caef.  Comment,  de  bello  Gallico,  lib.  iv. 


The  Natural  History  of  Rlligio!?.     417 

Many  ills,  fays  Dione  in  Honner  ro  Venus 
Wounded  by  Diomede,  many  ills,  my  daughter, 
have  the  gods  inflicted  on  men  :  And  many  ills, 
in  return,  have  ir.en  inflifted  on  the  gods*. 
We  need  but  open  any  clafTic  author  to  meet 
with  thelc  grofs  reprelentarions  of  the  deities ; 
and  Longinus  f  with  reafon  obferves,  that  fuch 
ideas  of  the  divine  nature,  if  literally  taken,  con- 
tain  a  true  atheifm. 

Some  writers  J  have  been  furprized,  that  the 
impieties  of  Ariftophanes  fhould  have  been  to- 
lerated, nay  publicly  acted  and  applauded  by  the 
Athenians;  a  people  fo  fuperftitious  and  lb  jea- 
lous of  the  public  religion,  that,  at  that  very 
time,  they  put  Socrates  to  death  for  his  imagin- 
ed incredility.  But  thefe  writers  do  nor  confi- 
der,  that  the  ludicrous,  familiar  im.ages,  under 
which  the  gods  are  reprefented  by  that  comic 
poet,  inliead  of  appearing  impious,  were  the  ge- 
nuine lights  in  which  the  ancients  conceived  their 
divinities.  What  condud  can  be  more  criminal 
or  mean,  than  that  of  Jupiter  in  the  Amphitri- 
on  ?  Yet  that  play,  which  reprefented  his  gallant 
exploits,  was  fuppofed  fo  agreeable  to  him,  that 
it  was  always  acted  in  Rome  by  public  authori- 
ty, when  the  ftate  was  threatened  with  peftilence, 
famine,  or  any  general  calainitylj.  The  Romans 
fuppofed,  that,  like  all  old  lerchers,  he  would  be 
highly  pleafed  with  the  recital  of  his  former  feats 
of  prowefs  and  vigour,  and  that  no  topic  was 
fo    proper,   upon   which  to  flatter  his  vanity. 

The  Lacedemonian^,  fays  Xenophon  §,  always, 
during  war,  put  up  their  petitions  very  early  in 
the  morninc-^,  in  order  to  be  beforehand  with  theii 
enemies,  and,   being  the  firft  folicitors,  pre-engage 

Vol.  II.  E  e  the 


•  Lib.  i\'.  3S2.  f  Cap.  ix. 

X  Pere  Brunio, ,  Theatre  des  Grecs ;  &  Fontenelle,   Fliflolre* 
dei  Oracics.  ||   Ainob.  lib.  vii;  §  De  Laced.  Rep< 


41 B     The  Natural  History  of  Religiom, 

the  gods  in  their  favour.  We  may  gather  frorr; 
Seneca*,  that  it  was  ufual,  for  the  votaries  in  the 
temples,  to  make  interePc  with  the  beadle  or  fex- 
ton,  that  they  might  have  a  feat  near  the  image 
of  the  deity,  in  order  to  be  the  befc  heard  in 
their  prayers  and  applications  to  him.  The  Ty- 
rians,  when  befieged  by  Alexander,  threw  chains 
on  the  ftatue  of  Hercules,  to  prevent  that  deity 
from  deferting  to  the  enemy  f.  Aiiguftus,  having 
twice  loft  his  fleet  by  ftorms,  forbad  Neptune  to 
be  carried  in  proccfTion  along  with  the  other 
gods;  and  fancied,  that  he  had  fufficiently  re- 
venged himfelf  by  that  expedient;]:.  After  Ger- 
manicus's  death,  the  people  were  fo  enraged  at 
their  gods,  that  they  ftoned  them  in  their  tem- 
ples; and  openly  renounced  all  allegiance  to 
them  II . 

To  afcribe  the  origin  and  fabric  of  the  uni- 
verfe  to  thefe  impcrfe6l  beings  never  enters  in- 
to the  imagination  of  any  polytheift  or  idolater. 
Hefiod,  whofe  writings,  with  thofe  of  Homer, 
contained  the  canonical  fyftem  of  the  heathens  §j 
Hefiod,  I  fay,  fuppofes  gods  and  men  to  have 
fprung  equally  from  the  unknown  powers  of  na- 
ture f.  And  throughout  the  whole  theogony  of 
that  author.  Pandora  is  the  only  inftance  of  crea- 
tion or  a  voluntary  produdlion  ;  and  flie  too  was 
formed  by  the  gods  merely  from  defpite  to  Pro- 
metheus, who  had  furniflied  men  with  ftolen  fire 
from  the  ceftial  regions  ft-  ^-^^'^^  ancient  mytho- 
logifts,  indeed,  feem  throughout  to  have  rather  em- 
braced the  idea  of  generation  than  that  of  crea- 
tion 

*  Epifl*  xii. 

t   Quint.  Curtius,  lib.  iv.  cap.  3.       Diod.  Sic.  lib.  xvii. 

.1  Suet,  in  vita  Aug.  cap.  16         ||  Id.  in  vita  Cal.  cap.  5. 

§  Herodot.  lib.  ii.     Lucian.  Jupiter  coufutatus,  de  lutlu,   Sa- 
tuf/i    Sec. 

n,-o,uo2jcr  :^;;ctac7(  :5eoi  2n;;'iojT"  av5p-^7ro'.  Hef.  Opera  &  Dies, 
1.   iu8. 

ft  Thcog.  1.  570. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     4.1^ 

lion  or  formation;  and  to   have   thence  account- 
ed  for   the  origin  of  this   univerfe. 

Ovid,  who  lived  in  a  learned  age,  and  had 
been  inftru6ted  by  philofophers  in  the  principles 
of  a  divine  creation  or  formation  of  the  world; 
finding,  that  fiich  an  idea  would  not  agree  with 
the  popular  mythology,  which  he  delivers,  leaves 
it,  in  a  manner,  loofe  and  dctatched  from  his 
fyftem.  ^lifquis  fuit  ille  Deorum*?  Whichever  of 
the  gods  it  was,  fays  he,  that  difllpated  the 
chaos  and  introduced  order  into  the  uni- 
verfe.  It  could  neither  be  Saturn,  he  knew, 
nor  Jupiter,  nor  Neptune,  nor  any  of  the  receiv- 
ed deities  of  paganifm.  His  theological  fy- 
ftem had  taught  him  nothing  upon  that  head; 
and  he  leaves  the  matter  equally  undetermined. 

Diodorus  Siculusf,  beginning  his  work  with 
an  enumeration  of  the  mod  reafonable  opinions 
concerning  the  origin  of  the  world,  makes  no 
mention  of  a  deity  or  intelligent  mind;  though 
it  is  evident  from  his  hifbory,  that  he  was  much 
more  prone  to  fuperitition  than  to  irreligion. 
And  in  another  paffage  J,  talking  of  the  Ich- 
thyophagi,  a  nation  in  .India,  he  fays,  that,  there 
being  fo  great  difficulty  in  accounting  for  their 
defcent  we  muft  conclude  them  to  be  aborigineSy 
without  any  beginning  of  their  generation,  pro- 
pagating their  race  from  all  eternity;  as  feme  of 
the  phyfiologers,  in  treating  of  the  origin  of  na- 
ture, have  juftly  obferved.  "  But  in  fuch  fub- 
*'  jecls  as  thefe,"  adds  the  hiftorian,  '^  wi;ich 
"  exceed  all  human  capacity,  it  may  well  hap- 
"  pen,  that  thofe,  who  difcourfe  the  mod,  know 
*'  the  leaft;  reaching  a  fpecious  appearance  of 
*'  truth  in  their  reafonings,  while  extremely  wide 
"  of  the  real  truth  and   matter  of  facl." 

E  e.2  A  (trange 

*  Metamorph.  lib.  1.  1.  32.  f  Li^-  i-         %  I^-  »btd. 


420     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

A  ftrange  fentiment  in  our  eyes,  to  be  embrac- 
ed by  a  profeffed  ar^d  zealous  religionift*  !  But 
it  was  merely  by  accident,  that  the  queilion  con- 
cerninof  the  origin  of  the  world  did  ever  in  an- 
cient  times  enter  into  religious  fyilems,  or  was 
treated  of  by  theologers.  The  philofophers  alone 
made  profeflion  of  delivering  fyftems  of  this  kind; 
and  it  was  pretty  late  too  before  thefe  bethought 
themfelves  ,of  having  recourfe  to  a  mind  or  fu- 
.preme  intelligence,  as  the  firit  caufe  of  all.  So 
far  was  it  from  being  efteemed  profane  in  thofe 
days  to  account  for  the  origin  of  things  with- 
out a  deity,  that  Thales,  Anaximenes,  Heraclitus, 
and  others,  who  embraced  that  fyltem  of  cofmo- 
gony,  pad  unqueflioned ;  while  Anaxagoras,  the 
firfl  undoubted  theift  among  the  philofophers, 
was  perhaps  the  firlt  that  ever  was  accufed  to 
atheifm  f* 

We  are  told  by  Sextus  Empiricus  ^y  i^hat  Epi- 
cuius,  when  a  boy,  reading  with  his  preceptor 
thefe    veries  of  Hefiod. 

Elded  of  beings,  chaos  firft  arofe ; 
t^cAt  earib,  wide-ftretch'd,  the  feaf  of  all: 
the  young  fcholar  firll  betrayed  his  inquifitive 
genius,  by  afking,  /Ind  chaos  whence?  But  was 
told  by  his  preceptor,  that  he  muft  have  re- 
courfe to  the  philofophers  for  a  folution  of  fuch 
queftions.  And  from  this  hint  Epicurus  left  phi- 
lology and  all  other  fludies,  in  order  to  betake 
himfelf  to  that  fcience,  whence  alone  he  expell- 
ed 

*  The  fiime  author,  who  can  thus  account  for  the  origin  of 
tiie  worid  without  a  Deity,  elteems  it  impious  to  explain  horn 
phyficnl  caufes,  the  common  accidents  ot' life,  earthquakes,  in- 
undations, and  tempclh:  and  devoutly  aicribes  thefe  to  the  an- 
ger of  Jupiter  or  Neptune.  A  plain  proof,  whence  he  derived 
Jiis  ideas  of  religion.  See  lib.  xv.  p.  364.  Ex.  edit.  Rhodo- 
niani. 

t  See   NOTE    [ZZ]. 

X  Adverfus  Matheni.  lib.  ix. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     421 

cd   fatisfadlion  with   regard  to  thcfe  fublime  lub- 
jefts. 

The  common  people  were  never  likely  to  piifh 
their  relearchcs  fo  tar,  or  derive  from  reafoning 
their  fyftems  of  religion  j  when  philologers  and 
mythologiliis,  we  fee^  fcarcely  ever  difcovered  To 
much  penetration.  And  even  the  philofophers, 
who  difcourfed  of  fuch  topics,  readily  affented 
to  the  grofTefl  theory,  and  admitted  the  joint 
origin  of  gods  and  men  from  night  and  chaos; 
from  fire,  water,  air,  or  whatever  they  eftablifh- 
ed  to  be  the  ruling   element. 

Nor  was  it  only  on  their  firft  origin,  that  the 
gods  were  fuppofed  dependent  on  the  powers  of 
nature.  Throughout  the  v/hole  period  of  their 
exiftence  they  were  fubjefted  to  the  dominion  of 
fate  or  deftlny.  Think  of  force  of  neceffity^  fays 
Agrippa  to  the  Roman  people,  that  force ,  io  zchicb 
even  !hc  gods  7nuftfubmit^ .  And  the  Younger  Pliny  f, 
agreeable  to  this  way  of  thinking,  tells  us,  that 
amidtt  the  darknefs,  horror,  and  confufion,  which 
enfued  upon  the  firft  eruption  of  Vefuvius,  feve- 
ral  concluded,  that  all  nature  was  going  to  wrack, 
and  that  gods  and  rrien  v/ere  perilhing  in  one 
common  ruin. 

It  is  great  complaifance,  indeed,  if  we  digni- 
fy with  the  name  of  religion  fuch  an  imperfect 
fyftem  of  theology,  and  put  it  on  a  level  with 
latter  fyftems,  which  are  founded  on  principles 
more  jull  and  more  fublime.  For  my  part,  I 
can  fcarcely  allow  the  principles  even  of  Mar- 
cus Aurelius,  Plutarch,  and  fome  other  Stoics  and 
Academics  J  though  much  miore  refined  than  the 
pagan  fuperltition,  to  be  worthy  of  the  honour- 
able appellation  of  theifm.  For  if  the  mytho- 
logy of  the  heathens  refemble  the  ancient  Euro- 
pean   fyftem  of  fpiritual   beings,    excluding   God 

a;.d 

*  Dionys.  Halic  lib.  vi.  f  Epift.  lib.  vi. 


49.1     The  Natural  History  off  Religion. 

and  angels,  and  leaving  only  fairies  and  fprightsj 
the  creed  of  thefe  philofopers-  nnay  juflly  be  faid 
to  exclude  a  deity,  and  to  leave  only  angeU 
and  fairies. 

Sed.  V-  Various  Forms  ofPdytheifm  -.Allegory  Hero- 
WorJIjtf^ 

But  it  is  chiefly  our  pre  fent  bufinefs  to  con- 
fider  the  grofs  polytheifm  of  the  vulgar,  and  to, 
trace  ail  its  various  appeaj  ances,  in  the  princi- 
ples of  human   nature,  >vh«jnce  they  are  derived. 

Whoever   learns   by  arguunent,  the   exiftence  of 
invifible  intelligent  poA^rer,    muft  reafon  from   the 
admirable  contrivance  of  n;  itural  objefts,  and  muft 
fuppofe  the  world  to  ,be    the  workmanfhip  of  that 
divine    being,    the    origin  al    cauie  of   all   things. 
But    the    vulgar    poly«:he  ift,    fo  far   from  admit- 
ting that  idea,  deifies  ev'  ery  part  of  the  univerfe, 
and  conceives   all   the  cc  )nfpicuous  productions  of 
nature,  to   be   themfelve  s  fo  many  real  divinities. 
The  fun,  moon,    and   it  ars,  are   all   gods  accord- 
ing   to    his    lyftem :    Ff  juntains.  are  inhabited  by 
nymphs,  and  trees   by     hamadryads:    Even   mon- 
kies,  dogs,  cats,  and  c  .ther  animals  often  become 
facred  in   his  eyes,  ani  J   flrike  him  with  a  religi- 
ous veneration.     And     thus,  however  ftrong  men's 
propenfity  to   believe     invifible,  intelligent    power 
in    nature,    their  pro  penfity   is  equally   ftrong   to 
reft    their  attentig^i      on    fenfible,    vifible    objedls ; 
and   in  order  to  rec   oncile   thefe  oppofite  inclina- 
tions,   they  are  led      to   unite   the  invilible    power 
with   fome   vifiblc      object. 

The  diftributipr  i  alfo  of  diftinft  provinces  to 
the  feveral  deitif>s  is  apt  to  caufe  fome  allegory, 
both  phyfical  ai^r  1  moral,  to  enter  into  the  vul- 
gar  fyftems  of  -f   .olvtheifm.     The  god  of  war  will 

naturally 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     423 

naturally  be  reprefented  as  furious,  cruel,  and 
impetuous:  The  god  of  poetry  as  elegant,  polite, 
and  amiable  :  The  god  of  merrhandife,  efpecially 
in  early  times,  as  thievilh  and  dreadful.  The 
allegories,  Aippofed  in  Homer  and  other  mytho- 
logifts,  I  allow,  have  often  been  fo  drained,  that 
men  of  fenfe  are  apt  entirely  to  rejeifl  them, 
and  to  confider  them  as  the  production  merely 
of  the  fancy  and  conceit  of  critics  and  com- 
mentators. But  that  allegory  really  has  place 
in  the  heatlien  mythology  is  undeniable  even  on 
the  lead  refiedtion.  Cupid  the  fon  of  Venus; 
the  Mufes  the  daughters  of  Memory;  Prometheus, 
the  wife  brother,  and  Epimetheus  the  foolifh; 
Hygieia  or  the  goddefs  of  health  defcended  from 
iEfculapius  or  the  god  of  phyfic :  Who  fees  not, 
in  thefe,  and  in  many  other  inilances,  the  plain 
traces  of  allegory  ?  When  a  god  is  fuppofed  to 
prefide  over  any  pafTion,  event,  or  fyftem  of  ani- 
ons, it  is  almoft  unavoidable  to  give  him  a  ge- 
nealogy, attributes,  and  adventures,  fuitable  to 
liis  fuppofed  powers  and  influence;  and  to  carry 
on  that  fimilitude  and  comparifon,  which  is  na- 
turally   fo   agreeable   ro  the   mind  of   man. 

Allegories,  indeed,  entirely  perfeft,  we  ouglit 
not  to  expect  as  the  productions  of  ignorance 
and  fuperiticion ;  there  being  no  work  of  genius 
that  requires  a  nicer  hand,  or  has  been  more 
rarely  executed  with  fuccefs.  That  Fear  and  'Ter- 
ror are  the  fons  of  Mars  is  jUit;  but  v/hy  by 
Venus*?  That  Harmony  is  the  daughter  of  Ve- 
nus is  regular;  but  wliy  by  Mare-j-j"  "XX^dX  Sleep 
is  the  brother  of  Death  is  fuitable;  but  why  def- 
cribe  him  as  enamoured  of  the  Graces  If?  And 
fuice  the  ancient  mythologies  fall  into  miftakes 
fo  grofs  and  palpable,  we  have  no  rcafon  furely 
to  expeCl:  fuch    refined   and    long-fpun    allegories, 

as 

*  Heliod.  Theog.  1.  935 

f  Id.  ibid.  &  Pliito.  ia  vita  Pelop.  \  Ili.-d.  xiv.  267. 


424     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

as  Ibme  have  endeavoured  to  reduce  from  their 
A<^ions. 

Lucretius  was  plainly  feduced  by  the  ftrong 
appearance  of  allegory,  which  is  obfervable  in 
the  pagan  fictions.  Pie  firft  addrefles  himfelf  to 
Venus  as  to  that  generating  power,  which  animates, 
renews,  and  beautifies  the  univerfe:  But  is  foon 
betrayed  by  the  mythology  into  incoherencies, 
while  he  prays  to  that  allegorical  perfonage  to 
appeafe  the  furies  of  her  lover  Mars:  -An  idea 
not  drawn  from  allegory,  but  fiom  the  popular 
religion,  and  which  Lucretius,  as  an  Epicurean, 
could   not  confiftently  admit  of. 

The  deities  of  the  vulgar  are  fo  little  fuperi- 
or  to  human  creatures,  that,  where  men  are  af- 
fed:ed  with  flrong  fentimcnts  of  veneration  or 
gratitude  for  any  hero  or  public  benefactor,  no- 
thing can  be  more  natural  than  to  convert  him 
into  a  god,  and  fill  the  heavtns,  after  this  man- 
ner^  with  continual  recruits  fiom  among  man- 
kind. Moft  of  the  divinities  of  the  ancient  world 
are  fuppofed  to  have  once  been  men,  to  have 
been  beholden  for  their  apothecfis  to  the  admi- 
ration and  aifeftion  of  the  people.  The  real 
hiflory  of  their  adventures,  corrupted  by  tradi- 
tion, and  elevated  by  the  marvellous,  becam.e  a 
plentiful  fource  of  fable;  efpecially  in  paffing 
through  the  hands  of  poets,  allegorifis,  and  priefts, 
who  fuccefnvely  improved  upon  the  wonder  and 
jiftonifliment  of  the   ignorant  multitude. 

Painters  too  and  fculptors  came  in  for  their 
Jliare  of  profit  in  the  facred  myfteries;  and  fur- 
ni/hing  men  with  fenfible  reprefentations  of  their 
divinities,  whom  they  cloathed  in  human  figures, 
gave  great  cncreafe  to  the  public  devotion,  and 
determined  it.s  objcdl.  It  was  probably  for  want 
of  thefe  arts  in  rude  and  barbarous  ages,  that 
men  deified  plants,  animals,  and  even  brute,  unor- 

I  ganizcd 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.      42? 

ganized  matter  j  and  rather  than  be  without  a  fen- 
Tible  obje(5l  of  worfhip,  affixfd  divinity  to  fuch 
ungainly  forms.  Could  any  ftatuary  of  Syria,  in 
early  tmieSj  have  formed  a  juft  figure  of  Apolio, 
the  conic  (tone,  Heliogabalus,  had  never  become 
the  objed:  of  fuch  profound  adoration,  and  been 
received  as  a  reprefentation  of  the  folar  deity  *. 

Stilpo,  was  banifhed  by  the  council  of  Areopa- 
gus, for  affirming  that  the  Minerva  in  the  citadel 
was  no  divinity  i  but  the  workmanrtiip  of  Phi- 
dias, the  fculptor  f-  What  degree  of  reafon  muit 
we  expeO:  in  the  religious  belief  of  the  vulgar  in 
other  nations ;  when  Athenians  and  Areopagites 
could    entertain  fuch  grofs    conceptions  ? 

Thefe  then  are  the  general  principles  of  po- 
lytheifm,  founded  in  human  nature,  and  little  or 
nothing  dependent  on  caprice  and  accident.  As 
the  caufes,  which  bellow  happinefs  or  mifery,  are, 
in  general,  very  little  known  and  very  uncertain 
our  anxious  concern  endeavours  to  attain  a  deter- 
minate idea  of  them  ;  and  finds  no  better  expe- 
dient than  to  reprefent  them  as  intelligent  vo- 
luntary agents,  like  ourfelvesj  only  fomewhat  fu- 
perior  in  power  and  wifdom.  The  limited  influ- 
ence of  thefe  agents,  and  their  great  proximity  to 
human  wcaknefs,  introduce  the  various  diftribu- 
tion  and  divifion  of  their  authority  j  and  thereby 
give  rife  to  allegory.  The  fame  principles  natu- 
rally deify  mortals,  fuperior  in  power,  courage,  or 
underftanding,  and  produce  hero-worfliip ;  toge- 
ther with  fabulous  hiftory  and  mythological  tra- 
dition, in   all   its  wild    and  unaccountable  forms. 

And 

*  Herodian,  lib.  v.  Jupiter  Ammon  Is  reprefented  by  Cur- 
tius  as  a  deity  of  the  fame  kind,  lib.  iv.  cap.  7.  The  Arabi- 
ans and  Perfmuntians  adored  alfo  fhapelefs  unformed  ftones  as 
their  deity.  Arnob.  lib.  vi.  So  much  did  their  folly  exceed 
that  of  the  Egyptians. 

f  Diod.   Laert.  lib.  ii. 


.26      The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

And  as  an  invifible  fpiritual  intelligence  is  an 
objeft  too  refined  for  vulgar  apprehenfion,  men 
naturally  affix  it  to  fome  fenfible  reprefentationj 
fuch  as  either  the  more  confpicuous  parts  of  na- 
ture, or  the  ftatues,  images,  and  piflures,  which 
a  more  refined  age  forms  of  its  divinities. 

Almoft  all  idolaters,  of  whatever  age  or  coun- 
try, concur  in  thefe  general  principles  and  con- 
ceptions ;  and  even  the  particular  chara6ters  and 
provinces,  which  they  aflign  to  their  deities,  are 
not  extremely  different  *.  The  Greek  and  Ro- 
man travellers  and  conquerors,  without  much 
difficulty,  found  their  own  deities  every  where; 
and  faid.  This  is  Mercury,  that  Venus ;  this 
Mars,  that  Neptune  j  by  whatever  title  the  ftrange 
gods  might  not  be  denominated.  The  goddefs 
Hertha  of  our  Saxon  anceflors  feems  to  be  no 
other,  according  to  Tacitus  f,  than  the  Mater 
Melius  of  the  Romans;  and  his  conjefture  was 
evidently  jufl. 

Sect.  VI.     Origin  of  'theijm  from  Polytheifm. 

The  doftrine  of  one  fupreme  deity,  the  author 
of  nature,  is  very  ancient,  has  fpread  itfelf  over 
great  and  populous  nations,  and  among  them 
has  been  embraced  by  all  ranks  and  conditions 
of  men  :  But  whoever  thinks  that  it  has  owed  its 
fuccefs  to  the  prevalent  force  of  thofe  invincible 
reafons,  on  which  it  is  undoubtedly  founded,  would 
Jhow  himfelf  little  acquainted  with  the  igno- 
rance and  ftupidity  of  the  people,  and  their  in- 
curable prejudices  in  fiivour  of  their  particular 
fuperftitions.  Even  at  this  day,  and  in  Europe, 
afk  any  of  the  vulgar,  why  he  believes  in  an 
omnipotent   creator   of  the  world;    he   will  never 

mention 

*  See  C;t:nir  of  the    religion  of  the  Gauls,  De   bello  Galll- 
co>   lilj.  xi.  t  ^^  moribus  Germ. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     427 

mention  the  beauty  of  final  caiifes,  of  which  he 
is  wholly  ignorant :  He  will  not  hold  out  his  hand, 
and  bid  you  contemplate  the  fupplenefs  and  vari- 
iety  of  joints  in  his  fingers,  their  bending  all 
one  way,  the  counterpoife  which  they  receive 
from  the  thumb,  the  foftnefs  and  flefliy  parts  of 
the  infide  of  his  hand,  with  all  the  other  circum- 
ftances,  which  render  that  member  fit  for  the  ufe, 
to  which  it  was  deflincd.  To  thefe  he  has  been 
long  accuftomed  :  and  he  beholds  them  with  lift- 
leflhefs  and  unconcern.  He  will  tell  you  of  the 
fudden  and  unexpected  death  of  fuch  a  one:  The 
fall  and  bruife  of  fuch  another :  The  exceflive 
drought  of  this  feafon  :  The  cold  and  rains  of 
another.  Thefe  he  afcribes  to  the  immediate 
operation  of  providence :  And  fuch  events,  as, 
with  good  reafoners,  are  the  chief  difficulties  in 
admitting  a  fupreme  intelligence,  are  with  him  the 
fole  arguments  for  it. 

Many  theifls,  even  the  moft  zealous  and  re- 
fined, have  denied  a  -particular  providence,  and 
have  afierted,  that  the  Sovereign  mind  or  firfb 
principle  of  all  things,  having  fixed  general  laws, 
by  which  nature  is  governed,  gives  free  and  un- 
interrupted courfe  to  thefe  laws,  and  diilurbs 
not,  at  every  turn,  the  fettled  order  of  events  by 
particular  volitions.  From  the  beautiful  connex- 
ion, fay  they,  and  rigid  obfervance  of  eftabliflicd 
rules,  we  draw  the  chief  argument  for  theifm ; 
and  from  the  fame  principles  are  enabled  to  an- 
fwer  the  principal  objeftions  againft  it.  But  fo 
little  is  this  underftood  by  the  generality  of  man- 
kind, that,  wherever  they  obferve  any  one  to  af- 
fcribe  all  events  to  natural  caufes,  and  to  remove 
the  particular  interpofition  of  a  deity,  they  are 
apt  to  fufpecft  him  of  the  groffeft  infidelity.  J  lli- 
tle  philofophyy  fays  lord  Bacon,  'makes  'men  atheijls : 
A  great  deal  reconciles  them  to  religion.  For  men, 
being  taught,  by   fuperftitious  prejudice?,     to  lay 

the 


428      The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

the  ftrefs  on  a  wrong  place :  when  that  fails  thermia 
and  they  difcover,  by  a  little  refleftion,  that  the 
courfe  of  nature  is  regular  and  uniform,  their 
whole  faith  totters,  and  falls  to  ruin.  But  be- 
ing taught,  by  more  refle(5lion,  that  this  very 
regularity  and  uniformity  is  the  llrongeft  proof  of 
defign  and  of  a  fnpreme  intelligence,  they  return 
to  that  belief,  which  they  had  deferted ;  and  they 
are  now  able  to  eftabliih  it  on  a  firmer  and  more 
durable   foundation. 

Convulfions  in  nature,  diforders,  prodigies,  mi- 
racles, though  the  mofb  oppofite  to  the  plan  of 
a  wife  fuperintendent,  imprefs  mankind  with  the 
ftrongeft  fentiments  of  religion ;  the  caufes  of 
events  feeming  then  the  moft  unknown  and  un- 
accountable. Madnefs,  fury,  rage,  and  an  in- 
flamed imagination,  though  they  fink  men  near- 
efl  to  the  level  of  bealls,  are,  for  a  like  reafon, 
often  fuppofed  to  be  the  only  difpofitions,  in  which 
we  can  have  any  immediate  communication  with 
the  Deity. 

We  may  conclude,  therefore,  upon  the  whole, 
that,  fince  the  vulgar,  in  nations,  which  have  em- 
braced the  do6lrine  of  theifm,  ftill  build  it  upon 
irrational  and  fuperfHtious  principles,  they  are  ne- 
ver led  into  that  opinion  by  any  procefs  of  argu- 
ment, but  by  a  certain  train  of  thinking,  more 
fuitable  to    their  genius  and  capacity. 

It  may  readily  happen,  in  an  idolatrous  nati- 
on, though  men  admit  the  exiftence  of  feveral  li- 
mited deities,  yet  is  there  fome  one  God,  whom, 
in  a  particular  manner,  they  make  the  objeft  of 
their  worfhip  and  adoration.  They  may  either 
iuppofe,  that,  in  the  diftribution  of  power  and 
territory  among  the  gods,  their  nation  was  lub- 
jedted  to  the  juril'ditlion  of  that  particular  deity  i 
or  reducing  heavenly  objects  to  the  model  of 
things  below,  they  may  reprcfent  one  god  as  the 
prince   or    fupreme   magiftrate   of  the   reft,    who, 

though 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.      429 

though  of  the    fame    nature,    rules  them  with  an 
authority,    like    that    which  an   earthly   fovereign 
exercifes  over  his  fubjefts  and   vafTals.     Whether 
this  god,  therefore,  be  confidered  as  tlieir  peculiar 
patron,  or  as  the  general  fovereign  of  heaven,  his 
votaries  will  endeavour,   by  every  art,  to  infinuate 
themfelves  into  his  favoiT;  and  fuppofing  him  to 
be  pleafed,  like  themfelves,  with  praife   and   flat- 
tery, there  is   no  eulogy   or   exaggeration,    which 
will  be  fpared  in   their  addrefles  to  him.     In  pro- 
portion  as  men's  fears  or  diftreflTes   become  more 
urgent,  they  ftill  invent  new  ft  rains  of  adulation; 
and  even  he  who  outdoes   his  predeceflbr  in  fwel- 
ling   up  the  titles  of   his  divinity,    is  fure   to   be 
outdone  by  his  fuccelTor  in  newer  and  more  pomp- 
ous   epithets   of  praife.      Thus  they   proceed ;    till 
at  laft  they  arrive  at  infinity  itfelf,  beyond  which 
there  is  no  farther  progrefs:  And  it  is  well,   if,  in 
ftriving  to  get  farther,  and  to  reprefent  a  magnifi- 
cent fimplicity,  they  run  not  into  inexplicable  my- 
ftery,  and   dellroy   the   intelligent  nature  of  their 
deity,    on    which    alone    any   rational    worfhip    or 
adoration   can   be    founded.      While   they   confine 
themfelves  to  the  notion  of  a  perfe6t  being,   the 
creator  of  the  world,  they  coincide,  by  chance,  with 
the    principles    of    reafon   and    true    philofophy  j 
though  they  are  guided  to  that  notion,  not  by  rea- 
fon, of  which  they  are  in  a  great  meafure  incapable, 
but  by  the  adulation  and   fears  of  the  moll:  vulgar 
fuperftition. 

We  often  find,  amongfl:  barbarous  nations,  and 
even  fometimes  amongfl  civilized,  that,  when  eve- 
ry ftrain  of  liattery  has  been  exhauiled  towards 
arbitrary  princes,  when  every  human  quality  has 
been  applauded  to  the  utmoft ;  their  fervile  cour- 
tiers reprefent  them,  at  lail,  as  real  divinities,  and 
point  chem  out  to  the  people  as  objefts  of  adora- 
tion. How  much  more  natural,  therefore,  is  it, 
that  a  limired  deity,  who  at  firft  is   fuppofed  only 

the 


430       The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

the  immediate  author  of  the  particular  goods  and 
ills  in  life,  fhould  in  the  end  be  reprefented  as 
fovereign  maker  and  modifier  of  the  univerfe  ? 

Even  where  this  notion  of  a  fupreme  deity  is 
already  eftablifhed  ;  though  it  ought  naturally  to 
leflen  every  other  worfhip,  and  abafe  every  objeft 
of  reverence,  yet  if  a  nation  has  entertained  the 
opinion  of  a  fubordinate  tutelar  divinity,  faint,  or 
angel ;  their  addreffes  to  that  being  gradually  rife 
upon  them,  and  encroach  on  the  adoration  due  to 
their  fupreme  deity.  The  Virgin  Af^r?,  ere  check- 
ed by  the  reformation,  had  proceeded,  from  being 
merely  a  good  woman,  to  ufurp  many  attributes  of 
the  Almighty  :  God  and  St.  Nicholas  go  hand  in. 
hand,  in  all  the  prayers  and  petitions  of  the  Muf- 
covites. 

Thus  the  deity,  who,  from  love,  converted  him- 
felf  into  a  bull,  in  order  to  carry  off  Europa  -,  and 
who,  from  ambition,  dethroned  his  father,  Saturn, 
became  the  Optimus  Maximus  of  the  heathens. 
Thus,  the  God  of  Abraham,  Ifaac,  and  Jacob, 
became  the  fupreme  deity  or  Jehovah  of  the 
Jews. 

The  Jacobins,  who  deny  the  immaculate  con- 
ception, have  ever  been  very  unhappy  in  their 
do6trine,  even  though  political  reafons  have  kept 
the  Romifh  church  from  condemnine;  it.  The 
Cordeliers  have  run  away  with  all  the  popularity. 
But  in  the  fifteenth  century,  as  we  learn  from 
Boulainvilliers  *,  an  Italian  Cordelier  maintained, 
that,  during  the  three  days,  when  Chrifl:  was  inter- 
red, the  hypoftatic  union  was  diffolved,  and  that 
his  human  nature  was  not  a  proper  objed:  of  ado- 
ration, during  that  period.  Without  the  art  of 
divination,  one  might  foretel,  that  fo  grofs  and  im- 
pious a  blafphemy  would  not  fail  to  be  anathema- 
tized 

*  HiUoirc  abrcgee,  p.  499. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     431 

tized  by  the  people.  It  was  the  occafion  of 
great  infiilts  on  the  part  of  the  Jacobins;  who 
now  got  fome  recompence  for  their  misfortunes 
in  the  war  about   the   imaculate   conception. 

Rather  than  relinquifh  this  propenfity  to  adula- 
tion, religionifts,  in  all  ages,  have  involved  them- 
felves  in  the  greateft  abfurdities  and  contradidli- 
ons. 

Homer,  in  one  palfage,  calls  Oceanus  and  Tethys 
the  original  parents  of  all  things,  conformably  to 
the  eftabliflied  mythology  and  tradition  of  the 
Greeks:  Yet,  in  other  paflages,  he  could  not  for- 
bear complimenting  Jupiter,  the  reigning  deity, 
with  that  magnificent  appellation  J  and  according- 
ly denominates  him  the  father  of  gods  and  men. 
He  forgets,  that  every  temple,  every  ftreet  was 
full  of  the  anccftors,  uncles,  brothers,  and  lif- 
ters of  this  Jupiter ;  who  was  in  reality  nothing 
but  an  upfliart  parricide  and  ufurper.  A  like  con- 
traditlion  is  obfervable  in  Hefiod  ;  and  is  fo  much 
the  lefs  excufeable,  as  his  profefTed  intention  was 
to  deliver  a  true  oenealoo;y  of  the   o-ods. 

Were  there  a  religion  (and  we  may  fufpefl  Ma- 
hometanifm  of  this  inconfiftence)  which  fometimes) 
painted  the  Deity  in  the  moll  fubiime  colours,  as 
the  creator  of  heaven  and  earth  ;  fometimes  de- 
graded him  nearly  to  a  level  with  human  crea- 
tures in  his  powers  and  faculties;  while  at  the  fame 
time  it  afcribed  to  him  fuitable  infirmities,  paf- 
fions,  and  partialities,  of  the  moral  kind  :  That  re- 
ligion, after  it  was  extinft,  would  alfo  be  cited  as 
an  inftance  of  thofe  contradiftions,  which  arife  from 
the  grofs,  vulgar,  natural  conceptions  of  mankind, 
oppofed  to  their  continual  propenfity  towards  flat- 
terv  and  exaoi-Qieration.  Nothino-  indeed  would 
prove  more  llrongly  the  divine  origin  of  any 
religion,  than  to  find  (and  happily  this  is  the  cafe 
"with  Chriftianity)  that  it  is  free  from  a  contradic- 
tion, fo   incident  to    human   nature. 

Sect. 


432     The  Natural  History  of  RELicfoN". 

Sect.   VII.  Confirmation  of  this  Do5frine. 

It  appears  certain,  that,  though  the  original 
notions  of  the  vulgar  reprefent  the  Divinity  as 
a  limited  being,  and  confider  him  only  as  the 
particular  caufe  of  health  or  ficknefs  ;  plenty  or 
want  J  profperity  or  adverfity ;  yet  when  more 
magnificent  ideas  are  urged  upon  them,  they 
efteem  it  dangerous  to  refufe  their  aflent.  Will 
you  fay,  that  your  deity  is  finite  and  bounded 
in  his  perfedions  j  may  be  overcome  by  a  great- 
er force  J  is  fubjed  to  human  pafTions,  pains, 
and  infirmties  j  has  a  beginning,  and  may  have 
an  end  ?  This  they  dare  not  affirm  j  but  thinking 
it  fafeft  to  comply  with  the  higher  encomiums, 
they  endeavour,  by  an  affefled  raviHiment  and 
devotion,  to  ingratiate  themfelves  with  him.  As 
a  confirmation  of  this,  we  may  obferve,  that  the 
nfTent  of  the  vulgar  is,  in  this  cafe,  merely  ver- 
bal, and  that  they  are  incapable  of  conceiving 
thofe  fublime  qualities,  which  they  feemingly  at- 
tribute to  the  Deity.  Their  real  idea  of  him, 
notwithftanding  their  pompous  language,  is  ftill 
as  poor  and  frivolous   as  ever. 

That  original  intelligence,  fay  the  Magians> 
who  is  the  firft  principle  of  all  things,  difcovers 
himfelf  immediately  to  the  mind  and  underftand- 
ing  alone  ;  but  has  placed  the  fun  as  his  image 
in  the  vifible  univerfe ;  and  when  that  bright 
luminary  diffiifes  its  beams  over  the  earth  and 
the  firmament,  it  is  a  faint  copy  of  the  glory, 
which  refides  in  the  higher  heavens.  If  you 
would  efcape  the  difpieafure  of  this  divine  be- 
ing, you  muft  be  careful  never  to  fet  your  bare 
foot  upon  the  ground,  nor  fpit  into  a  fire,  nor 
throw  any  water  upon  it,  even  though  it  were 
confuming  a  whole  city  *.  Who  can  cxprefs 
the  perfedions  of  the  Almighty  ?  fay  the  Ma- 
hometans. 

♦  Hyde  de  Relig.  vetcru.Ti  Perfarum. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     433 

hometans.  Even  the  nobleil  of  his  works,  if  com- 
pared to  him,  are  but  dnft  and  rubbifh.  How 
much  more  muit  human  conc-jption  fall  Ihort  o^  his 
infinite  perfections?  His  fmile  and  favour  re  "'ers 
men  for  ever  happy :  and  to  obrain  it  ^or  your 
children,  the  bzil  method  is  to  cut  off  from  them, 
while  infants,  a  little  bit  of  Ikin,  about  hair  clie 
breadth  of  a  farthing.  Take  two  bits  of  cloth  f, 
fay  the  Rowan  Cat  holies  y  about  an  inch  ci  an 
inch  and  a  half  fquare,  join  them  by  the  corners 
with  two  firings  or  pieces  of  tape  about  fixteen 
inches  long,  throw  this  over  your  head,  and  make 
one  of  the  bits  of  cloth  lie  upon  your  breail, 
and  the  other  upon  your  back,  keeping  them 
next  your  (kin  :  There  is  not  a  better  fecret  for 
recommending  yourfelf  to  that  infinite  Being,  who 
exifts   from   eternity  to    eternity. 

The  Getes,  commonly  called  immortal,  from 
their  iteady  belief  of  the  foul's  immortality,  were 
genuine  theifts  and  unitarians.  They  affirmed 
Zamolxis,  their  dciry,  to  be  the  only  true  god  j 
and  aderted  the  worfliip  of  all  other  nations  to  be 
addrelTcJ  to  mere  fictions  and  chimeras.  But  were 
their  religious  principles  any  more  refined,  on  ac- 
count of  thefe  magnificent  pretenfions  ?  Every  fifth 
year  they  facrificed  a  human  vicflim,  whom  they 
fent  as  a  mefTenger  to  their  deity,  in  order  to  in- 
form him  of  their  wants  and  neceJfities.  And 
when  it  thundered,  they  v/ere  io  provoked,  that, 
in  order  to  return  the  defiance,  they  let  fly  arrows 
at  him,  and  declined  not  the  combat  as  une- 
qual. Such  at  leaft  is  the  account,  which  He- 
rodotus gives  of  the  theifm  of  the  immortal 
Getes  4:. 

Vol.  II.  F  f  Sect. 

f  Called  the  Scapulairj.  %  Lib.iv. 


434    The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

Sect.  Ylll.  Flux  and  reflux  ofpolytheifm  and  theljm^ 

It  Is  remarkable,  that  the  principles  of  religiwi 

have  a  kind  of  flux  and  reflux  in  the  human  mind, 
and  that  men  have  a  natural  tendency  to  rife  from 
idolatry  to  theifm,  and  to  fink  again  from  theifm 
into  idolatry.  The  vulgar,  that  is,  indeed,  all 
mankind,  a  few  excepted,  being  ignorant  and 
iininllructed,  never  elevate  their  contemplation 
to  the  heavens,  or  penetrate  by  their  difquifiti- 
ons  into  the  fecret  ftru6lure  of  vegetable  or  a- 
nimal  bodies ;  fo  far  as  to  difcover  a  fuprcmc 
mind  or  original  providence,  which  bellowed  or- 
der on  every  part  of  nature.  They  confider  thefe 
admirable  works  in  a  more  confined  and  felfiih 
view;  and  finding  their  own  happinefs  and  mifery 
to  depend  on  the  fecret  influence  and  unforefeen 
concurrence  of  external  objefts,  they  regard,  with 
perpetual  attention,  the  unknown  caujes^  which 
govern  all  thefe  natural  events,  and  diftribute 
pleafure  and  pain,  good  and  ill,  by  their  pow- 
erful, but  filent,  operation.  The  unknown  cau- 
fes  are  ftill  appealed  to  on  every  emergence; 
and  in  this  general  appearance  or  confufed  image, 
are  the  perpetual  objecls  of  human  hopes  and 
fears,  v/ifhes  and  apprehenfions.  By  degrees,  the 
atStive  imagination  of  men,  uneafy  in  this  abftra6t 
conception  of  objecls,  about  which  it  is  incef- 
fantly  employed,  begins  to  render  them  more 
particular,  and  to  clothe  them  in  fhapes  more 
luitable  to  its  natural  comprehenfion.  It  repre- 
fcnts  them  to  be  fenfiblc,  intelligent  beings, 
like  mankind;  actuated  by  love  and  hatred,  and 
flexible  by  gifts  and  entreaties,  by  prayers  and 
facnfices.  Hence  the  oriiiin  of  religion  :  And  hence 
the  origin   of  idolatry   or  polytheifm. 

But    the   fame    anxious    concern   for    happinefs, 
which  begets  the  idea  of  thefe  invifible,  intelligent 

powers, 


J 


The  Natural  History  of  Ri-ligion.     43J 

powers,    allows   not  mankind   to    remain  long  in 
the   firlt  fimplc  conception  of  them ;  as  powerful, 
but  limited   beings ;   mafters    of  human  fate,    but 
Haves  to  deftiny  and  the  courfe  of  nature.     Men's 
exaggerated    praifcs    and    compliments    flill    fwell 
their  idea  upon  them  ;   and  elevating  their  deities 
to  the  utmolt  bounds  of  perfedion,  at  laft   beget 
the  attributes  of  unity  and  infinity,  fimplicity  and 
fpirituality.     Such  refined  ideas,    being  fomewhat 
difproportioned   to  vulgar  comprehenfion,  remain 
not  long  in  their  original  purity;   but  r'equire  to  be 
fupported   by    the   notion  of  inferioi  mediators  or 
fubordinate  agents,  which  interpofe  between  man- 
kind   and  their  fupreme   deity.      Thefe   demigods 
or    middle    beings,  partaking  more  of  human  na- 
ture, and   being  more  familiar  to  us,   become  the 
chief  objefts  of  devotion,  and  gradually  recal  that 
idolatry,    which    had    been   formerly  banifhed   by 
the  ardent  prayers  and  panegyrics  of  timorous  and 
indigent  mortals.     But  as  thefe  idolatrous  religions 
fall  every  day    into  grofler   and  more  vulgar   con- 
ceptions,  they  ar  lail  deftroy  themfelves,  and,   by 
the  vile  reprefen rations,  which   they  form  of  their 
deities,   make  the   tide  turn  again    towards  theifm. 
But  lb  great  is  the  propenfity,   in  this  alternate  re- 
volution   of   human   fentiments,  to  return  back  to 
idolatry,    that  the  utmoil   precaution   is    not  able 
efFeftually  to  prevent  it.    And  of  this,  fome  theifts^ 
particularly  the  Jews  and  Mahometans,  have  been 
fenfible ;    as  appears  by  their  baniihing  a!l  the  avis 
of  ftatuary  and  painting,  and  not  allowing  the  re- 
jMefenrations,  even  of  human  figures,  to  betaken  by 
marble  or  colours ;  lePc  the  common  infirmity  of  man- 
kind fhould  thence  produce  idolatry.     The  feeble 
apprehenfions  of  men  cannot  be  fatisiied  with  con- 
ceiving their  deity  as  a  pure  fpirit  and  perfect  intel- 
ligence; and  yet  their  natural   terrors   keep  them 
from   imputing  to  him  the  leafl  fliadow  of  limitati- 
on and  imperfection.     They  fluftuate  between  thefe 

F  f  2  oppoiite 


43^    The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

oppofite  fentiments.  The  fame  infirmity  ftilt 
drags  them  downwards,  from  an  omnipotent  and 
fpiritual  deity,  to  a  limited  and  corporeal  one, 
and  from  a  corporeal  and  limited  deity  to  a  ftatue 
or  vifible  reprefentation.  The  fame  endeavour  aC 
elevation  ftillpufhes  them  upwards,  from  the  ftatue 
or  material  image  to  the  invifible  power;  and  from 
the  invifible  power  to  an  infinitely  perfe6t  deity, 
the  creator  and  fovereign  of  the  univerfe. 


Sect.  IX.  Comparifon  of  theje  Religions^  with  regard 
to  P  erf  edition  and  'Toleration. 

Polytheifm  or  idolatrous  worfhip,  being  founded 
entirely  in  vulgar  traditions,  is  liable  to  this  great 
inconvenience,  that  any  praflice  or  opinion,  how- 
ever barbarous  or  corrupted,  may  be  authorized 
by  it ;  and  full  fcope  is  given,  for  knavery  to  im- 
pofe  on  credulity,  till  morals  and  humanity  be 
expelled  the  religious  fyftem  of  mankind.  At  the 
fame  time,  idolatry  is  attended  with  this  evident 
advantage,  that,  by  limiting  the  powers  and  func- 
tions of  its  deities,  it  naturally  admits  the  gods  of 
other  fedls  and  nations  to  a  fhare  of  divinity,  and 
renders  all  the  various  deities,  as  well  as  rites,  ce- 
remonies, or  traditions,  compatible  with  each 
other  *.  Theifm  is  oppofite  both  in  its  advanta- 
ges and  difadvantages.  As  that  fyftem  fuppofcs 
one  fole  deity,  the  perfeftion  of  reafon  and  good- 
nefs,  it  iliould,  if  juftly  profecuted,  banifli  every 
thing  frivolous,  unreafonable,  or  inhuman  from 
religious  worlliip,  and  fet  before  men  the  mofl: 
illuflrious  example,  as  well  as  the  moft  com- 
manding motives,  of  juftice  and  benevolence. 
Thefe  mighty  advantages  are  not  indeed  over-ba- 
lanced   (for   that   is  not  poITibie),     but  fomewhat 

diminiflied, 

*  Sec  N  O  T  E  [AAA]. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     437 

•vliminifhed,  by  inconveniencies,  whicli  arife  from 
the  vices  and  prejudices  of  nianlvind.  While  one 
folc  objedt  of  devotion  is  acknowledged,  the  wor- 
fhip  of  other  deities  is  regarded  as  abfurd  and 
impious.  Nay,  this  unity  of  object  feems  natu- 
rally to  require  the  unity  of  faith  and  ceremo- 
nies, and  furnifhes  defigning  men  with  a  pretence 
for  reprefenting  their  adverfaries  as  profane,  and 
the  objecfts  of  divine  as  well  as  human  vengeance. 
For  as  each  k^t  is  pofitive  that  its  own  faith  and 
worfhip  are  entirely  acceptable  to  the  deity,  and 
as  no  one  can  conceive,  that  the  fame  being 
fhould  be  pleafed  with  different  and  oppofite  rites 
and  principles ;  the  feveral  fe6ls  fall  naturally 
into  animoTity,  and  mutually  difcharge  on  each 
other  that  facred  zeal  and  rancour,  the  moll  fu- 
rious and   implacable  of  all  human  pafTions. 

The  tolerating  fpirit  of  idolaters,  both  in  an- 
cient and  modern  times,  is  very  obvious  to  any 
one,  who  is  the  leail  converfant  in  the  writings 
of  hiftorians  or  travellers.  When  the  oracle  of 
Delphi  was  afked,  what  rites  or  worfhip  was  moft 
acceptable  to  the  gods  ?  Thofe  which  are  legally 
eftablifhed  in  each  city,  replied  the  oracle  *. 
Even  priefts  in  thofe  a^esj  could,  it  feems,  al- 
low falvation  to  thofe  or  a  different  communion. 
The  Romans  commonly  adopted  the  Gods  of  the 
conquered  people;  and  never  difputed  the  attri- 
butes of  thofe  local  and  national  deities,  in  whofe 
territories  they  refided.  The  religious  wars  and 
perfecutions  of  the  Egyptian  idolaters  are  indeed 
an  exception  to  this  rule  5  but  are  accounted 
for  by  ancient  authors  from  reafons  fingular  and 
remarkable.  Different  fpecies  of  animals  were 
the  deities  of  the  differeht  fefls  among  the  Egyp- 
tians i    and  the   deities    being  in    continual    war. 


engaged 


*  Xenoph.  Memor.  lib.  ii. 


438     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

engaged  their  votaries  in  the  fame  contention. 
The  v/orHiippers  of  dogs  could  not  long  remain 
in  peace  with  the  adorers  of  cats  or  wolves  *.  But 
where  that  reafon  took  not  place,  the  Egyptian  fu- 
perftition  was  not  fo  incompatible  as  is  commonly 
imagined;  fince  we  learn  from  Herodotus  t,  that 
very  large  contributions  were  given  by  Amafis  to- 
wards  rebuilding  the    temple  of  Delphi. 

The   intolerance   of  almoft  all    religions,  which 
liave  maintained  the   unity  of  God,  is   as  remark- 
able as  the  contrary  principle  ot  polvtheifls,     Ti'ic 
imj^ilacable    narrow    fpirit    of   the    Jews    is    well 
known.     Mahometanifm  fet    out    with   Hill   more 
bloody   principles ;    and   even    to  this    day,  deals 
out  damnation,  thous;h  not  hre  and  fao-o-ot,  to  all 
other  fedls.     And  if,  among  Chriftians,  the  Eng- 
lifh  and  Dutch   have  embraced    the  principles   of 
toleration,  this  fingularity  has  proceeded  from   the 
Aeady  reiolution  of  the  civil  magiftrate,   in  oppo- 
fition  to   the  continued  efforts  of  priefts  and   bir 
gots. 

The  difciples  of  Zoroailer  fhut  the  doors  of 
heaven  againll  all  but  the  Magians  J.  Nothing 
could  more  obftrudl:  the  progrefs  of  the  Perfian 
conquefts,  than  the  furious  zeal  of  that  nation 
againft  the  temples  and  images  of  the  Greeks. 
And  after  the  overthrow  of  that  empire  we  find 
•  Alexander,  as  a  polytheiil,  immediately  re-efta- 
blifhing  the  worihip  of  the  Babylonians,  which 
their  former  princes,  as  monofheifis,  had  carefully 
aboiiflied  Ij.  Even  the  blind  and  devoted  attach- 
inenr  of  that  conqueror  to  the  Greek  fuperftition 
hindered  not  but  he  himfelf  facrificed  according 
to  the  Babylonifn  ceremonies.  §. 

So 

•  Plurarch.  de  Ifjd.  &  Ofiride.  f  Lib- ii-  Tub  line. 

t  HydcdeRelig.  vet.  Perraiuui. 

II  Ariian*  dc  iixped.  lib.  iii.     Id.  lib.  vii. 

§  Id. ibid. 


The  Natural  History  of  Rhligion.     439 

So  fociable  is  polytheifm,  that  the  utmoft  fierce- 
nefs  and  antipathy,  which  it  meets  within  an  oppo- 
site religion,  is  fcarcely  able  to  difgull  it,  and 
keep  it  at  a  diRance.  AuguRus  prailed  extreme- 
ly the  referve  of  his  grandfon,  Caius  Ca^far,  when 
t}>is  latter  prince,  palling  by  Jeriifalem,  deigned 
not  to  facrifice  according  to  the  Jewifli  law.  But 
for  what  realbn  did  Auguftus  fo  much  approve 
of  this  condiift?  Only,  becaufe  that  religion  was 
by  the  Pagans  efteemed  ignoble   and  barbaroub*. 

I  may  venture  to  affirm,  that  few  corrihptions 
of  idolatry  and  polytheifm  are  more  pernicious 
to  fociety  than  this  corruption  oftheifm-j-,  when 
carried  to  the  utmofl:  height.  The  human  fa- 
crifices  of  the  Carthaginians,  Mexicans,  and  many 
barbarous  nations  :|;,  fcarcely  exceed  the  inqui- 
fition  and  perfecutions  of  Rome  and  Madrid. 
For  befides,  that  the  efFufion  of  blood  may  not  be 
lb  great  in  the  former  cafe  as  in  the  latter;  be- 
fides this,  I  fay,  the  human  viftims,  being  cho- 
ien  by  lot,,  or  by  fome  exterior  figns,  affeft 
not,  in  fo  confiderable  a  degree,  the  red  of  the 
fociety.  Whereas  virtue,  knowledge,  love  of  li- 
berty, are  the  qualities,  which  call  down  the  fa- 
tal vengeance  of  inquifitors;  and  when  expelled, 
leave  the  fociety  in  the  moft  Ihameful  ignorance, 
corruption,  and  bondage.  The  illegal  murder  of 
one  man  by  a  tyrant  is  more  pernicious  than  the 
death  of  a  thoufand  by  peftilence,  famine,  or  any 
undiftinguilliing  calamity. 

In      the     temple    of    Diana     at     Aricia    near 
Rome,     whoever    murdered     the     prefent    prieft, 
was     legally     entitled    to    be     inftalled    his    fuc- 
ceflbrlj.     A  very  fingular  inftitution !   For,    how- 
ever 


•  Sueton.  in  vita  Aug.  c.  93.  f  Corruptio  optimi  fejjlma. 

t  See   NOTE   [BBB]. 

I|  Strabo,  lib.  v.     Sueton.  in  vita  Cal. 


440       The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

ever  barbarous  and  bloody  the  common  fuper- 
fcitions  otten  are  to  the  laity,  they  uiually  turn  to 
the  advantage  of  the  holy  order.  » 

Sect.  X.  JVith  regard  to  courage  or  ahajement 

Fronn  the  comparifon  of  theifm  and  idolatry, 
we  may  form  fome  other  obfervations,  which 
will  alfo  confirm  the  vulgar  obfervation,  that 
the  corruption  of  the  beft  things  gives  rife  to 
the   worft. 

Where  the  deity  is  reprefented  as  infinitely  fu- 
perior  to  mankind,  this  belief,  though  altogether 
juft,  is  apt,  when  joined  with  fuperftitious  ter- 
rors, to  finic  the  human  inind  in  the  loweft  fub- 
milTion  and  abafement^  and  to  reprefent  the 
monkiili  virtues  of  mortification,  pennace,  humi- 
jity,  and  paffive  fuffering,  as  the  only  qualities 
which  are  acceptable  to  him.  But  where  the 
gods  are  conceived  to  be  only  a  little  fuperior 
to  mankind,  and  to  have  been,  many  of  them, 
advanced  from  that  inferior  rank,  we  are  more 
at  our  eafe  in  our  addrefies  to  them,  and  may 
even,  without  profanenefs,  afpire  fometimes  to 
a  rivalfhip  and  emulation  of  them.  Hence  ac- 
tivity, fpirit,  courage,  magnanimity,  love  of  liberty, 
and  all   the  virtues  which  aggrandize  a  people. 

The  heroes  in  paganifm  correfpond  exadly  to 
the  faints  in  popery  and  holy  dervifes  in  Maho- 
metanifm.  The  place  of  Hercules,  Thc-fcus,  Heftor, 
Romulus,  is  now  fupplied  by  Dominic,  Francis, 
Anthony,  and  Benedict.  Inftead  of  the  deflruc- 
tion  of  monfters,  the  fubduing  of  tyrants,  the 
defence  of  our  native  country ;  whippings  and 
faftings,  cowardice  and  humility,  abjed  fubmif- 
fion  and  flavilh  obedience,  are  become  the 
means  of  obtaining  ceklVial  honours  among  man- 
kind. 

One 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     441 

One  great  incitement  to  the  pious  Alexander 
in  his  warlike  expeditions  was  his  rivalfliip  of 
Hercules  and  Bacchus,  whom  he  juftly  pretend- 
ed to  have  excelled  *.  Brafidas,  that  generous 
and  noble  Spartan,  after  falling  in  battle,  had 
heroic  honour  paid  him  by  the  inhabitants  of  Am- 
phipolis,  whofe  defence  he  had  embraced  f.  And 
in  general,  all  founders  of  dates  and  colonies  a- 
mong  the  Greeks  were  raifed  to  this  inferior  rank 
of  divinity,  by  thofe  who  reaped  the  benefit  of 
their  labours. 

This  gave  rife  to  the  obfervation  of  Machia- 
vel  J,  that  the  do6trines  of  the  Chriftian  religion 
(meaning  the  catholic ;  for  he  knew  no  other) 
which  recommend  only  paffive  courage  and  fufi^er- 
ing,  had  fubdued  the  fpirit  of  mankind,  and  had 
fitted  them  for  flavery  and  fubjedlion.  An  obfer- 
vation, which  would  certainly  be  juft,  were  there 
not  many  other  circumftances  in  human  fociety 
which  controul  the  genuis  and  charatfler  of  a  reli- 
gion. 

Brafidas  feized  a  moufe,  and  being  bit  by  it, 
let  it  go.  There  is  'nothing  Jo  contemptible^  faid  he, 
hut  what  may  be  Jafe^  if  it  has  hut  courage  to  de- 
fend itjelf\.  Bellarmine  patiently  and  humbly  al- 
lowed the  fleas  and  other  odious  vermin  to  prey 
upon  him.  We  fhall  have  heaven^  faid  he,  to  re- 
ward us  for  our  fufferings :  But  thefe  poor  creatures 
have  nothing  but  the  enjoyment  of  the  prejent  life  \. 
Such  difference  is  there  between  the  maxims  of  a 
Greek  hero  and  a  Catholic  faint. 

Sect.    XI.    With  regard  to  reaf on  or  abjurdity. 

Here  is  another  obfervation  to  the  fame  purpofc, 
and  a  new  proof  that  the  corruption  of  the  bell 

things 

*  Arrian  paflim.       f  Thucyd.  lib.  v.         %  Difcorfi,  lib.  vi. 
Plut.  Apopth.       §  Bayle,  Article  Bellarmine. 


44^       The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

things  begets  the  worft.  If  we  examine,  without 
prejudice,  the  ancient  heathen  mythology,  as  con- 
tained in  the  poets,  we  fhall  not  difcover  in  it  any 
fuch  monftrous  ablurdity,  as  we  may  at  firfl:  be  apt 
to  apprehend.  Where  is  the  difficulty  in  conceiv- 
ing, that  the  fame  powers  or  principles,  whatever 
they  were,  which  formed  this  vifible  world,  men 
and  animals,  produced  alfo  a  fpecies  of  intelligent 
creatures,  of  more  refined  fubftance  and  greater 
authority  than  the  reft  ?  That  thefe  creatures  may 
be  capricious,  revengeful,  pailionate,  voluptuous, 
is  eafily  conceived ;  nor  is  any  circumftance  more 
apt,  among  ourfelves,  to  engender  fuch  vices,  than 
the  licence  of  abfolute  authority.  And  in  fhort, 
the  whole  mythological  fyftem  is  fo  natural,  that, 
in  the  variety  of  planets  and  worlds,  contained  in 
this  univerfe,  it  feems  more  than  probable,  that, 
ibmewhere  or  other,  it  is  really  carried  into  exe- 
cution. 

The  chief  objeftlon  to  it  with  regard  to  this 
planet,  is,  that  it  is  not  afcertaincd  by  any  juft 
reafon  or  authority.  The  ancient  tradition,  in- 
iilted  on  by  heathen  priefts  and  theologers,  is 
but  a  weak  foundation  ;  and  tranfmitted  alfo  fuch 
a  number  of  contradicftory  reports,  fupported,  all 
of  them,  by  equal  authority,  that  it  became  ab- 
folutely  impofiiii)le  to  fix  a  preference  amongft  them. 
A  few  volumes,  therefore,  muft  contain  all  the 
j^olemical  writings  of  pagan  prielts  :  And  their 
whole  theology  muft  confift  more  of  traditional 
ftories  and  fuperftitious  practices  than  of  philolo- 
phical  arg.iment  and  controverfy. 

But  where  theifm  forms  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  any  popular  religion,  that  tenet  is  fo  con- 
torniable  to  found  reafon,  that  philofophy  is  apt  to 
incorporate  itfelf  with  fuch  a  fyftem  of  theology. 
And  if  the  other  dogmas  of  that  fyftem  be  con- 
tained in  a  facred  book,    fuch  as  the  Alcoran,  or 

be 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     443 

be    determined     by   any     vifible    authority,    like 
that   of   the    Roman    pontiff,    fpeculative    reafo- 
ners    naturally   carry   on    their    affent,     and    em- 
brace a  theory,  which  has  been  inftilled  into  them 
by    their  earlieft  education,    and   which  alfo    pof- 
fefies  fome   degree  of  confidence  and  uniformity. 
But  as  thcfe  appearances  are  fure,  all  of  them,  to 
prove  deceitful,  philofophy  will   foon  find    herfelf 
very  unequally  yoked  with  her  new  affociate  ;   and 
inftead  of  regulating  each  principle,   as   they  ad- 
vance together,  fhe  is    at  every  turn  perverted  to 
ferve  the  purpofes  of  fuperftition.     For  befides  the 
unavoidable  incoherences,   which  mud   be  recon- 
ciled and  adjufted;  one  may  fafely  affirm,  that  all 
popular  theology,   efpecially  the  fcholaftic,    has  a 
kind   of  appetite  for  abfurdity  and  contradi'dtion. 
If  that  theology  went  not  beyond  reafon  and  com- 
mon fenfe,  her  do6trines  would  appear  too  eafy  and 
familiar.     Amazement  muft   of  neceffity   be   raif- 
ed :     Myftery   affedled  :     Darknefs    and    obfcurity 
fought  after  :  And  a  foundation  of  merit  afforded 
to  the  devout  votaries,   who  defire  an  opportunity 
of  fubduiag  their  rebellious  reafon,  by  the  belief 
of  the  mod  unintelligible  fophifms. 

Ecclefiaitical  hiflory   fufficiently  confirms  thefe 
reflections.     When  a  controverfy  is  ftarted,  fome 
people  always  pretend  with  certainty  to  foretell  the 
iffue.     Whichever  opinion,  fay  they,  is  moft  con- 
trary to  plain  fenfe  is  fure  to  prevail ;   even   where 
the   general    intereft    of   the   fyftem    requires    not 
that   decifion.      Though    the   reproach  of   herefy 
may,   for   fome    time,    be   bandied    about    among 
the  difputants,  it  always  refts  at  laft  on  the  fide  of 
reafon.      Any  one,   it  is  pretended,  that  has    but 
learning  enough  of  this  kind  to  know  the  defini- 
tion of  Arian,   Pelagian,    Eraftian,  Socinian,  Sa- 
bellian,    F.utychian,    Neftorian,  Monothelite,   &c. 
not  to  mention   Proteilant,  whofe  fate  is  yet  un- 
certain. 


444     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

certain,  will  be  convinced  of  this  obfervation.  It 
is  thus  a  fyftem  becomes  more  abfurd  in  the  end, 
merely  from  its  being  reafonable  and  philofophical 
in  the  beginning. 

To  oppofe  the  torrent  of  fcholaftic  religion  by 
fuch  feeble  maxims  as  thefe,  that  /'/  is  impojjtble  for 
the  fame  thing  y  to  be  and  not  to  he.,  that  the  whole  is 
greater  than  a  'part,  that  two  and  three  make  five ; 
is  pretending  to  flop  the  ocean  with  a  bull-rufh. 
Will  you  fet  up  profane  reafon  againfl  facred  myf^ 
tery  ?  No  punifhment  is  great  enough  for  your 
impieiy.  And  the  fame  fires,  which  were  kindled 
for  heretics,  will  ferve  alfo  for  the  dellrudion  of 
philofophcrs. 

Sect.  XII.     With  regard  to  Doubt  or  Convi^ion, 

We  meet  every  day  with  people  fo  fceptical  with 
regard  to  hiftory,  that  they  aflert  it  impolFible  for 
any  nation  ever  to  believe  fuch  abfurd  principles 
as  tliofc  of  Greek  and  Egyptian  pagan ifm ;  and  at 
the  lame  time  fo  dogmatical  with  regard  to  religi- 
on»  that  they  think  the  fame  abfurdities  are  to  be 
found  in  no  other  communion.  Cambyfes  enter- 
tained like  prejudices  j  and  very  impioufly  ridi- 
culed, and  even  wounded.  Apis,  the  great  god  of 
the  Egyptians,  who  appeared  to  his  profane  fenfes 
nothing  but  a  large  fpotted  bull.  But  Herodo- 
tus judicioufly  afcribes  this  fally  of  paffion  to  a 
real  madnefs  or  diforder  of  the  brain :  Otherwife, 
fays  the  hiHorian,  he  never  would  h^ve  openly  af- 
fronted any  eftabliflied  worfhip.  For  on  that  head, 
continues  he,  every  nation  are  bed  fatisfied  with 
their  own,  and  think  they  have  the  advantage  over 
every  other  nation. 

It  muft  be  allowed,  that  the  Roman  Catholics 
are  a  very  learned  feft ;  and  that  no  one  com- 
munion, but  th^t  of  the  church  of  England,  can 

difputc 
a 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     445 

difpute  their  being  the  mofl  learned  of  all  the 
Chriftian  churches :  Yet  Averroes,  the  famous 
Arabian,  who,  no  doubt,  had  heard  of  the  Egyp- 
tian fuperflition,  declares,  that,  of  all  religions, 
the  mofl  abfurd  and  nonfenfical  is  that,  whofc 
votaries   eat,   after   having  created,   their  deity. 

I  believe,  indeed,  that  there  is  no  tenet  in  all 
paganifm,  v^hich  would  give  fo  fair  a  fcope  to  ri- 
dicule as  this  of  the  real  prejence :  For  it  is  fo  ab- 
furd, that  it  eludes  the  force  of  all  argument. 
There  are  even  Ibme  pleafant  (lories  of  that  kind, 
which,  though  fomewhat  profane,  are  commonly 
told  by  the  Catholics  themfelves.  One  day,  a 
priell,  it  is  faid,  gave  inadvertently,  inftead  of 
the  facrament,  a  counter,  which  had  by  accident 
fallen  among  the  holy  wafers.  The  communicant 
waited  patiently  for  fome  time,  expe6ling  it  would 
dilTolve  on  his  tongue:  But  finding  that  it  flill 
remained  entire,  he  took  it  off.  /  ivijh,  cried 
he  to  the  pried,  you  have  not  committed  feme  mif- 
take :  I  ivij/j  you  have  not  given  me  God  the  Fa- 
ther :  He  is  fo  hard  and  tough  there  is  no  /wallowing 
him. 

A  famous  general,,  at  that  time  in  the  Muf- 
covite  fcrvice,  having  come  to  Paris  for  the  re- 
covery of  his  wound,  brought  along  with  him  a 
young  Turk,  whom  he  had  taken  prifoner.  Some 
of  the  doftor.s  of  the  Sorbonne  (who  are  altoge- 
ther as  pofitive  as  the  dervifcs  of  Conftantinople) 
thinking  jt  a  pity,  that  the  poor  Turk  fhould  be 
damned  for  want  of  inflruclion,  folicited  Mufla- 
pha  very  hard  to  turn  Chriftian,  and  promifed 
him,  for  his  encouragement,  plenty  of  good  wine 
in  this  world}  and  paradife  in  the  next.  Thefe 
allurements  were  too  powerful  to  be  refifted  -,  and 
therefore,  having  been  well  inftru6led  and  cate- 
chized, he  ?.t  laft  agreed  to  receive  the  facra- 
ments  of  baptifm  and  the   Lord's   fupper.      The 

pricft. 


446       The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

priell,  however,  to  make  every  thing  fure  and 
folid,  ftill  continued  his  inftrudlions ;  and  began 
the  next  day  with  the  ufual  queftion.  How  many 
Gods  are  there  ?  None  at  all !  replies  Benedidl ;  for 
that  was  his  new  name.  How  !  None  at  all !  cries 
the  prieft.  'To  be  Jure^  faid  the  honeft  profelyte. 
Tou  have  told  me  all  along  that  there  is  hut  one  God : 
And  yejlerday  I  eat  him. 

Such  are  the  do6lrines  of  our  brethren  the  Ca- 
tholics. But  to  thefe  doftrines  we  are  fo  accuf- 
tomed,  that  we  never  wonder  at  them  :  Though 
in  a  futureage,  it  will  probably  become  difficult  to 
perfuade  fome  nations,  that  any  human,  two-leg- 
ged creature  could  ever  embrace  fuch  principles. 
And  it  is  a  thoufand  to  one,  but  thefe  nations 
themfelves  fhall  have  fomething  full  as  abfurd  in 
their  own  creed,  to  which  they  will  give  a  moft  im- 
plicit and  moft  religious  aflent. 
\.  I  lodged  once  at  Paris  in  the  fame  hotel  with 

an  ambafiador  from  Tunis,  who,  having  pafled 
fome  years  at  London,  was  returning  home  that 
way.  One  day  I  obferved  his  Moorifh  excellen- 
cy diverting  himfelf  under  the  porch,  with  fur- 
veying  the  fplendid  equipages  that  drove  along ; 
when  there  chanced  to  pafs  that  way  fome  Capucin 
friars,  who  had  never  {ttn  a  Turk ;  as  he,  on  his 
part,  though  accuftomed  to  the  European  drefles, 
had  never  fcen  the  grotefque  figure  of  a  Capucin : 
And  there  is  no  exprelTing  the  mutual  admirati- 
on, with  which  they  infpired  each  other.  Had 
the  chaplain  of  the  embafly  entered  into  a  dif- 
pute  with  thefe  Francifcans,  their  reciprocal  fur- 
prize  had  been  of  the  fame  nature.  Thus  all 
mankind  ftand  ftaring  at  one  another;  and  there 
is  no  beating  it  into  their  heads,  that  the  turban 
of  the  African  is  not  juft  as  <TOod  or  as  bad  a 
fafliion  as  the  cowl  of  the  FAiropean.     He  is  a  very 

honeft 


The  Natural  History  of  KISligion.      447 

bonefi  mauy  faid  the  prince  of  Sal  lee,  fpeaking  of 
de  Ruyter,  //  is  a  pity  he  were  a  Chrijtian. 

How  can  you  worfhip  leeks  and  onions  ?  we 
fha!l  fuppofe  a  Sorbonnift  to  fay  to  a  prieft  of  Sais. 
If  we  worfliip  them,  replies  the  latter  ;  at  leaft,  we 
do  not,  at  the  fame  time,  eat  them.  But  what 
ftrange  objefts  of  adoration  are  cats  and  monkies? 
fays  the  learned  dodor.  They  are  at  leafl  as  good 
as  the  relics  or  rotten  bones  of  martyrs,  anfwers 
his  no  lefs  learned  antagonift.  Are  you  not  mad, 
infifts  the  Catholic,  to  cut  one  another's  throat 
about  the  preference  of  a  cabbage  or  a  cucumber? 
Yes,  fays  the  pagan;  I  allow  it,  if  you  will  con- 
fefs,  that  thole  are  flill  madder,  who  fight  about 
the  preference  among  volumes  of  fophiftry,  ten 
thoufand  of  which  are  not  equal  in  value  to  one 
cabbao;e  or  cucumber  *. 

Every  by-ftander  will  eafily  judge  (but  unfortu- 
nately the  by-ftanders  are  few)  that,  if  nothing 
were  requifite  to  eftablifh  any  popular  fyftem,  but 
expofing  the  abfurdities  of  other  fyftems,  every 
votary  of  every  fupcrftition  could  give  a  fufficient 
reafon  for  his  blind  and  bigocted  attachment  to 
the  principles  in  which  he  has  been  educated. 
But  without  fo  extcnfive  a  knowledge,  on  which 
to  ground  this  affurance  (and  perhaps,  better  with- 
ou:  it),  there  is  not  wanting  a  fufHcient  ftock  of 
religious  zeal  and  faith  among  mankind.  Diodo- 
rus  Sicu]js  -j- gives  a  remarkable  inftance  to  this 
purpofe,  of  which  he  was  himfelf  an  eye-witnefs. 
While  Egypt  lay  under  the  greateft  tenor  of  the 
Roman  name,  a  legionary  foldier  having  inadver- 
tently been  guilty  of  the  facriiegious  impiety  of 
killing  a  car,  the  v/hole  people  role  upon  him  with 
the  utmofl  fury  :  and  all  the  efforts  of  the  prince 
were  not  able  to  fave  him.  The  fenate  and  peo- 
ple 

*  See  NOTE  [CCC]. 
t  Lib.  i. 


44^     The  Nax'ural  History  of  Religion. 

pie  of  Rome,  I  am  perfuaded,  would  not,  then, 
have  been  fo  delicate  with  regard  to  their  national 
deities.  They  very  frankly,  a  little  after  that  time, 
voted  Auguftus  a  place  in  the  celeftial  manfions  ; 
and  would  have  dethroned  every  god  in  heaven, 
for  his  fake,  had  he  feemed  to  defire  it.  Prefens 
divus  hahehitur  Auguftus,  fays  Horace.  That  is  a 
very  important  point :  And  in  other  nations  and 
other  ages,  the  fame  circumftance  has  not  been 
deemed  altogether  indifferent  *. 

Notwithftanding  the  fandity  of  our  holy  reli- 
gion, fays  Tully  f,  no  crime  is  more  common  with 
us  than  facrilege :  But  was  it  ever  heard  of,  that 
an  Egyptian  violated  the  temple  of  a  cat,  an  ibis, 
or  a  crocodile  ?  There  is  no  torture,  an  Egyptian 
would  not  undergo,  fays  the  fame  author  in  ano- 
ther place  J,  rather  than  injure  an  ibis,  an  afpic, 
a  cat,  a  dog,  or  a  crocodile.  Thus  it  is  ftriftly 
true,  what  Dryden  obferves, 

"  Of  whatfoe'er  defcent  their  godhead  be, 
'*  Stock,  ftone,  or  other  homely  pedigree, 
*'  In  his  defence  his  fervants  are  as  bold, 
*'  As  if  he  had  been  born  of  beaten  gold." 

Absalom  and  Achitophel. 

Nay,  the  bafer  the  materials  are,  of  which  the 
divinity  is  compofed,  the  greater  devotion  is  he 
likely  to  excite  in  the  breafts  of  his  deluded 
votaries.  They  exult  in  their  fhame,  and  make  a 
merit  with  their  deity,  in  braving,  for  his  fake, 
all  the  ridicule  and  contumely  of  his  ene- 
mies, 

*  When  Louis  the  XlVth  took  on  himfelf  the  proteflion  of 
the  Jelbits'  College  of  Clermont,  the  fociety  ordered  the  king's 
arms  to  be  put  up  over  the  gate,  and  took  down  the  crofs,  in  or- 
der to  make  way  for  it :  Which  gave  occafion  to  the  following 
epigram  : 

Suftulit  hinc  Chrifti,  pofuitque  infignia  Regis : 
Impia  gens,  alium  nefcit  habere  Deum. 
t  Denat.  Dcor.  1.  i.  ||  Tufc.  QuelV.  lib.  v. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     449 

mies.  Ten  thoufand  Crufaders  inlift  themfeves 
under  the  holy  banners  j  and  even  openly  tri- 
umph in  thofe  parts  of  religion,  which  their  ad- 
verfarics   regard   as  the  molt   reproachful. 

There  occurs,  I  own,  a  difficulty  in  the  Egyp- 
tian fyftem  of  theology;  as  indeed,  few  fyftem  of 
that  kind  are  entirely  free  from  difficulties.  It 
is  evident,  from  their  method  of  propagation,  that 
a  couple  of  cats,  in  fifty  years,  would  ftock  a 
whole  kingdom ;  and  if  that  religious  veneration 
were  Itill  paid  them,  it  would,  in  twenty  more, 
not  only  be  eafier  in  Egypt  to  find  a  god  thari 
a  man,  which  Petronius  fays  was  in  fome  parts 
of  Italy;  but  the  gods  muft  at  lafl:  entirely  iiarve 
the  men,  and  leave  themfelves  neither  priefts  nor 
votaries  remaining.  It  is  probable,  therefore, 
that  this  wife  nation,  the  mod  celebrated  in  an- 
tiquity for  prudence  and  found  policy,  forefee- 
ing  fuch  dangerous  confcquences,  referved  all 
their  worfhip  for  the  full-grown  divinities,  and 
ufed  the  freedom  to  drown  the  holy  fpawn  or 
little  fucking  gods,  without  any  fcruple  or  re- 
morfe*  And  thus  the  practice  of  warping  the  te- 
nets of  religion,  in  order  to  ferve  temporal  in- 
terefts,  is  not,  by  any'  means,  to  be  regarded  as 
an   invention  of  thefe  later  ages. 

The  learned,  philofophical  Varro,  difcourfmg 
of  religion,  pretends  not  to  deliver  any  thing 
beyond  probabilities  and  appearances:  Such  was 
his  good  fenfe  and  moderation !  But  the  paf- 
fionate,  the  zealous  Auguftin,  infults  the  noble 
Roman  on  his  fccpticifm  and  referve,  and  pro- 
fcfles  the  molt  thorough  belief  and  ailuranre*. 
A  heathen  poet,  however,  contemporary  with  the 
faint,  abfurdly  elteems  the  religious  fyftem  of 
the     latter    fo     falfe,     that     even    the     credulitv 

Vol.  II.  G  2-  of 


o 


De  civitate  Dei,  1.  iii.  e.  17. 


450     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

of  children,   he   fays,    could    not  engage  them'  to- 
believe  itf. 

Is  it  ftrange,  when  miflakes  are  fo  common,  to* 
find  every  one  pofitive  and  dogmatical  ?  And  that 
the  zeal  often  rifes  in  proportion  to  the  error  ? 
Moverunt^  fays  Spartian,  ^.  ea  teyn-peflate^  Jud^i 
helium   quod  vetabantur  niutilare  genitalia']^. 

If  ever  there  was  a  nation  or  a  time,  in  which 
the  public  religion  loft  all  authority  over  man- 
kind, we  might  exped,  that  infidelity  in  Rome, 
during  the  Ciceronian  age,  would  openly  have 
erected  its  throne,  and  that  Gicero  himfelf,  m 
every  fpeech  and  ad:ion,  would  have  been  its 
mod  declared  abettor.  But  it  appears,  that, 
whatever  fceptical  liberties  that  great  man  might 
take,  in  his  writings  or  in  philofophical  conver- 
fation  J  he  yet  avoided,  in  the  common  condu6t  of 
life,  the  imputation  of  deifm  and  profanenefs. 
Even  in  his  own  family,  and  to  his  wife  Teren- 
tia,  whom  he  highly  trufted,  he  was  willing  to 
appear  a  devout  religionift;  and  there  remains 
a  letter,  addrelTed  to  her,  in  which  he  feriouf- 
ly  defires  her  to  offer  facrifice  to  Apollo  and 
^fculapius,  in  gratitude  for  the  recovery  of  his 
health  II. 

Pompey's  devotion  was  much  more  fincere  r 
In  all  his  conduct,  during  the  civil  wars,  he 
paid  a  great  regard  to  auguries,  dreams,  and 
prop!iefies§.  Auguftus  was  tainted  with  fuper- 
itition  of  every  kind.  As  it  is  reported  of  Mil- 
ton, that  his  poetical  genius  never  flowed  with 
eafe  and  abundance  in  the  fpring;  fo  Auguftus 
obfcrved,  that  his  own  genius  for  dreaming  never 
was  fo  perfect  during  that  fcafon,  nor  was  fo  much 
to  be  relied  on,  as  during  the  reft  of  the  year.  That 

great 

f  Clniidii  Rutilii  Nuinitiani  iter,  lib.  i.  1.  386. 
X  In  vita  Adriani.  ||  Lib.  xiv.  epilL  7. 

§  Cicero  de  Divin.  lib.  ii.  c.  24. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion'.      451 

great  and  able  emperor  was  alfo  extremely  nn- 
caiy,  when  he  happened  to  change  his  fhoes,  and 
put  the  right  foot  fhoe  on  the  left  foot*.  In 
fhort,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  but  the  votaries  ot 
the  eftabliflied  fuperftition  of  antiquity  were  as 
numerous  in  every  (late,  as  thofe  of  the  modern 
religion  are  at  prefent.  Its  influence  was  as  uni- 
verfal;  though  it  was  not  fo  great.  As  many 
people  gave  their  afTent  to  it;  though  that  aflent 
was  not  fcemingly  fo  flrong,  precife,  and  affir- 
mative. 

We  may  obfcrve,  that,  notwithflanding  the  dog* 
^atical,  imperious  ftyie  of  all  fuperftition,  the 
conviction  of  the  religionifts,  in  all  ages,  is  more 
affcvied  than  real,  and  fcarcely  ever  approaches, 
in  any  degree,  to  that  folid  belief  and  perfuafi- 
on  which  governs  us  in  the  common  affairs  of  life. 
Men  dare  not  avow,  even  to  their  own  hearts^ 
the  doubts  which  they  entertain  on  fuch  fubiefts : 
They  make  a  merit  gif  implicit  faith;  and  diguife 
to  themfelves  their  real  infidelity,  by  the  ItrongefL 
afTeverations  and  mofV  pofitive  bigotry.  But  na- 
ture is  too  hard  for  all  their  endeavours,  and 
fufFers  not  the  obfcure,  glimmering  light,  afford- 
ed in  thofe  fhadowy  regions,  to  equal  the  ftrong 
impreflions,  made  by  common  fenfe  and  by  ex- 
perience. The  ufual  courfe  of  men's  conduft 
belies  their  words,  and  fhows,  that  their  affent 
in  thefe  matters  is  fome  unaccountable  operation 
of  the  mind  between  difbelief  and  conviftion,  but 
approaching  much  nearer  to  the  former  than  to 
the  latter. 

Since,  therefore,  the  mind  of  man  appears  of 
fo  loofe  and  undeady  a  texture,  that,  even  an 
prefent,  when  fo  many  perfons  find  an  intereft 
in  continually  employing  on  it  the  chiflel  and 
the  hammer,  vet  are  they  not  able  to  engrave 
theological  tenets  with  any  lalting  imprelfion ; 
G  s:  2  how 


o 


Saeton.  Aug.  cap.  90,  91,  92.     Plin.  lib.  ii.  cap.  7. 


452     The  Natural  Historv  of  Religioi^. 

how  much  more  mufb  this  have  been  the  cafe  ir$ 
ancient  times,  when  the  retainers  to  the  holy" 
funftion  were  fo  much  fewer  in  comparifon  ?  No 
wonder,  that  the  appearances  were  then  very  in- 
confiflent,  and  that  mefi,  on  fome  occafions  might 
feem  determined  infidels,  and  enemies  to  the  ef- 
tablifhed  religion,  without  being  fo  in  reality; 
or  at  leaft,  without  knowins;  their  own  minds 
in   that  particular. 

Another  caufe,  which  rendered  the  ancient  re- 
ligions much  loofer  than  the  modern,  is,  that 
the  former  v/cre  traditional  and  the  latter  are 
Jcriptitral -y  and  the  tradition-  in'  the  former  was 
complex,  contradictory,  and,  on  many  occafionsy 
doubtful;  fo  that  it  could  not  poflibly  be  reduc- 
ed to  any  ftandard  and  canon,  or  afford  any  de- 
terminate articles  of  faith.  The  ftories  of  the 
gods  were  numberlefs  like  the  popifh  legends; 
and  though  every  one,  almoft,  believed  a  part 
of  thefe  ftories,  yet  no  one  could  believe  or  know 
the  whole :  While,  at  the  fame  time,  all  muft 
have  acknowledged,  that  no  one  part  ftood  on* 
a  better  fcaindation  than-  the  reft.  The  tradi- 
tions of  diferent  cities  and  nations  were  alfo, 
on  many  occafions,  dire6lly  oppofite ;  and  no' 
reafon  could  be  aftigned  for  preferring  one  to- 
the  other.  And  as  there  was  an  infinite  number 
of  ftories,  with  regard  to  which  tradition  was 
nowife  pofitive  ;  the  gradation  was  infenfible,  fronr 
the  moft  fundamental  articles  of  faith,  to  thofe 
loofe  and'  precarious  fictions.  The  p.igan  religi-* 
on,  therefore,  feemed  to  vp-nifn  like  a  cloud,  when- 
ever one  approached  to  it,  and  examined  it  piece- 
meal. It  couid  never  be  afcertained  by  any  fix- 
ed dogmas  and  principles.  And  tjiough  this 
did  not  convert  the  gen.'rality  of  mankind  from- 
fo  abfurd  a  faith;  for  when  will  the  peorle  be 
reafonabie  ?  yet  it  made  them  faultcr  and  hefi- 
tate    more   in  maintaining    their  principles,    and 

was 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.      453 

^vas  even  apt  to  produce,  in  certain  difpofitions 
of  mind,  fome  practices  and  opinions,  which  had 
the  appearance   of  determined   infidelity. 

To  which  we  may  add,  that  the  fables  of  the 
pagan  religion  were,  of  themfelves,  light,  eafy, 
and  familiar ;  without  devils,  or  feas  of  brim- 
(tone,  or  any  objett  that  could  much  terrify 
the  imagination.  Vv'^ho  could  forbear  fmiling, 
when  he  thought  of  the  loves  of  Mars  and  Ve- 
nus, or  the  amorous  frolics  of  Jupiter  and  Pan  ? 
In  this  refpedV,  it  was  a  true  poetical  religion  j 
if  it  had  not  rather  too  much  levity  for  the 
graver  kinds  of  poetry.  We  find  that  it  has 
been  adopted  by  m.odern  bards ;  nor  have  thefe 
talked  v/ith  greater  freedom  and  irreverence  or 
the  gods,  whom  they  regarded  as  fidtions,  than 
the  ancients  did  of  the  .real  objefts  of  their  de- 
-yotion. 

The  inference  is  by  no  means  juft,  that,  be- 
caufe  a  fyftem  of  religion  has  made  no  deep 
imprefTion  on  the  minds  of  a  people,  it  mult 
therefore  have  been  pofitively  rejedled  by  all  men 
of  com.mon  fenfe,  and  that  oppofite  principles, 
in  fpite  of  the  prejudices  of  education,  were 
generally  ^ftablifhed  by  argument  and  reafoning. 
I  know  not,  but  a  contrary  inference  may  be 
more  probable.  ThvC  iefs  importunate  and  af- 
•fuming  any  fpecies  of  fupcrflition  appears,  the 
iefs  will  it  provoke  men's  fpleen  and  indignati- 
on, or  engage  tiiem  into  enqviiries  concerning 
its  foundation  and  origin.  This  in  the  mean 
time  is  obvious^  that  the  empire  of  all  religious 
faith  over  the  underllandins:  is  waverino:  and  un- 
certain,  fubjed  to  every  variety  of  humour,  and 
dependent  on  the  prefent  incidents,  which  ftrike 
the  imagination.  The  difference  is  only  in  the 
degrees.  An  ancient  will  place  a  ftroke  of  im- 
piety and  one:  offuperftition  aiternatelyj  throughout  a 

whole 


454     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

■whole  difcourfe*:  A  modern  often  thinks  in  the 
fame  way,  though  he  may  be  more  guarded  in 
his   expreflion. 

Lucian  tells  us  exprcfsly  f ,  that  whoever  be- 
lieved not  the  mofl:  ridiculous  fables  of  paganifm 
was  deemed  by  the  people  frofane  and  impi- 
ous. To  what  purpofe,  indeed,  would  that  agree- 
able author  have  employed  the  whole  force  of 
his  wit  and  fatire  againft  the  national  religion, 
had  not  that  religion  been  generally  believed  by 
his  countrymen  and  contemporaries  ? 

Livy  :|:  acknov;ledges  as  frankly,  as  any  divine 
would  at  prefenr,  the  common  incredulity  of 
his  age  J  but  then  he  condemns  it  as  ft-verely. 
And  who  can  imagine,  that  a  fuperflition,  which 
could  delude  fo  ingenious  a  man,  would  not  al- 
fo   impofe  on  the   generality  of  the    people  ? 

The  Stoics  beilowed  many  magnificent  and 
even  impious  epithets  on  their  fage;  that  he 
alone  was  rich,  free,  a  king,  and  equal  to  the 
immortal  o-ods.  They  forgot  to  add,  that 
he  was  not  inferior  in  prudence  and  under- 
ilanding  to  an  old  woman.  For  furely  no- 
thing can  be  more  pitiful  than  the  fentiments, 
which  that  feft  entertained  with  regard  to  re- 
ligious matters  -,  while  they  feriouily  agree 
with   the    comm.on    augurs,    that,    when    z,    raven 

croaks 

*  Witnefs  this  remarkable  p.ifiage  of  Tacitus :  "  Prxtcr  mul- 
"  tiplices  rerum  humanarum  talus,  calo  icrraque  prodigia,  & 
**  lulminum  monitus  $c  futurorum  prxfagia,  iaua,  inilia,  ambi- 
*'  gua,  manifelta.  Nee  enim  uni.jnaiTi  atrocioribus  populi  Ro- 
"  niani  cladibus,  magifquc  juilis  judiciib  approbattini  t-ll,  non 
*'  elle  curte  Diis  fecuritatei-n  noUrani,  tiie  ultionem."  Hilt.  lib. 
I.  AugiiRus's  quarrel  with  Neptune  is  an  iullancc  of  ihc  fame 
hind.  Had  not  the  emperor  believed  Neptune  to  be  a  real  be- 
ing, and  to  have  dominion  over  the  fca,  where  had  been  tl  e 
foundation  of  his  anger?  And  if  he  believed  it,  what  madnefs 
to  provoke  Hill  farther  that  deity  ?  The  fame  obfervation  may 
be  made  upon  Qainiilian's  exclamation,  on  account  of  the  death 
cf  his  children,  lib.  vi.      Praif. 

t  Philopfcudes.  \  Lib.  x.  cap.  40, 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.      455 

croaks  from  the  left,  it  is  a  good  omen  ;  but  a  bad 
one,  when  a  rook  makes  a  noife  from  the  fame 
quarter.  Pan^tius  was  the  only  Stok,  among 
the  Greeks,  who  fo  much  as  doubted  with  regard 
to  auguries  and  divinations*.  Marcus  Antoninus  f 
tells  us,  that  he  himfclf  had  received  many  admo- 
nitions from  the  gods  in  his  deep.  It  is  true.  Epic- 
tetus  J  forbids  us  to  regard  the  language  of  rooks 
and  ravens ;  but  it  is  not,  that  they  do  not  fpeak 
truth:  It  is  only,  becaufe  they  can  foretel  nothing 
but  the  breaking  of  our  neck  or  the  forfeiture 
of  our  eftate ;  which  are  circumftances,  fays  he, 
that  nowife  concern  us.  Thus  the  Stoics  join  a 
philofophical  enthufiafm  to  a  religious  fuperfliti- 
on.  The  force  of  their  mind,  being  all  turned 
■to  the  fide  of  morals,  unbent  itfelf  in  that  of 
religion  \\. 

Plato  §  introduces  Socrates  affirming,  that  the 
accufation  of  impiety  raifed  againft  him  was  owing 
entirely  to  his  rejecting  fuch  fables,  as  thofe  of 
Saturn's  caftrating  his  father  Uranus,  and  Jupiter's 
dethroning  Saturn  :  Yet  in  a  fubfequent  dialogue  ^, 
Socrates  confefles,  that  the  do6lrine  of  the  mor- 
tality of  the  foul  was  the  received  opinion  of  the 
people.  Is  there  her«  any  contradidlion  ?  Yes, 
iurely :  But  the  contradiction  is  not  in  Plato  ;  it  is 
In  the  people,  whofe  religious  principles  in  ge- 
neral are  always  compofed  of  the  mofl  difcordant 
parts  ;  efpecially  in  an  age,  when  fuperftition  fate 
ib  eafy  and  light  upon  them  4|. 

The 


*  Cicero  de  divin.   lib.  i.  cap.  3  &  7. 

f  Lib.  i.  §  17.  X  Ench.  §  17. 

II  The  Stoics,  1  own,  were  not  quite  orthodox  in  the  efta- 
blifhed  religion  ;  but  one  may  fee,  from  thefe  inftances,  that 
they  went  a  great  way :  And  the  people  undoubtedly  went  eve- 
ry length. 

§  Eutvphro.  4-  Phjedo. 

-I-  4-  See  NOTE  [DDD]. 


4^6     The  Natural  History  of  Religiont. 

The  fame  Cicero,  who  aftefbed,  in  his  own  family, 
to  appear  a  devout  religionift,  makes  no  fcruple, 
in  a  public  court  of  judicature,  of  treating  the  doc- 
trine of  a  future  flate  as  a  ridiculous  fable,  to  which 
no  body  could  give  any  attention  *.  Salluft  f  re- 
prefents  Cccfar  as  fpeaking  the  fame  language  in 
the  open  fenate  J. 

But  that  all  thefe  freedoms  implied  not  a  total 
and  univerfal  infidelity  and  fcepticifm  amongft  the 
people,  is  too  apparent  to  be  denied.  Though 
fome  parts  of  the  national  religion  hung  loofe  up- 
on the  minds  of  men,  other  parts  adhered  more 
clofely  to  them  :  And  it  was  the  chief  bufinefs  of 
the  fceptical  philofophers  to  Ihow,  that  there  was 
no  more  foundation  for  one  than  for  the  other. 
This  is  the  artifice  of  Cotta  in  the  dialogues  con- 
cerning the  7iature  of  the  gods.  He  refutes  the 
whole  fyftem  of  mythology  by  leading  the  ortho- 
dox gradually,  from  the  more  momentous  flories, 
which  were  believed,  to  the  more  frivolous,  which 
every  one  ridiculed  :  From  the  gods  to  the  god- 
deflesj  from  the  goddefles  to  the  nymphs ;  from 
the  nymphs  to  the  fawns  and  fatyrs.  His  maf- 
ter,  Carneades,  had  employed  the  fame  method  of 
r^afoning  ||. 

Upon  the  whole,  the  greateft  and  mofl  obferva« 
ble    diiferences    between  a  traditional^  mythclogical 

religion, 

*  Pro  Cluentio,  cap.  6i.  f  Debello  Carilin. 

X  Cicero  (Tufc.  Quxft.)  lib.  i.  cap.  5,  6.  and  Seneca  (Epifl. 
24.)  as  alfo  Juvenal  (Satyr.  2.),  maintain  that  there  is  no  boy 
or  old  woman  fo  ridiculous  as  to  believe  the  poets  in  their  ac- 
counts of  a  future  ftate.  Why  then  does  Lucretius  fo  highly  ex- 
alt his  mailer  for  freeing  us  fiom  thele  terrors?  Perhaps  the  ge- 
nerality of  mankind  were  then  in  the  diipofition  of  Cephalus  in 
Plato  (dc  Rep.  lib.  i.)  who  while  he  w^s  young  and  healthful 
could  ridicule  thefe  ftories;  but  as  foon  as  he  became  old  and 
infirm,  began  to  entertain  apprehenfions  of  their  truth.  This 
we  may  obferve  not  to  be  unufual  even  at  prefent. 

II  Sext.  Empir.  adverf.  Mathem.  lib.  viii. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.      457 

religion,  and  3.  fyjlemntical,  Jcholaftic  one,  are  two ' 
The  fornner  is  often  more  reaibnable,  as  confiding  ' 
only  of  a  multitude  of  ftories,  which,  however 
groundlefs,  imply  no  exprefs  abfurdity  and  de- 
monftrative  contradiction  j  and  fits  alfo  fo  eafy  and 
light  on  men's  mind,  that,  though  it  may  be  as 
univerfally  received,  it  happily  makes  no  fuch  deep 
imprellion  on  the  afFeftions  and  underftanding. 


Sect.  XIII.  Impious  conceptions  of  the  divine  nature 
in  popular  religions  of  both  kinds. 


The  primary  religion  of  mankind  arifes  chiefly 
from  an  anxious  fear  of  future  events;  and  what 
ideas  will  naturally  be  entertained  of  invifible,  un- 
known powers,  while  men  lie  under  difmal  ap- 
prehenfions  of  any  kind,  may  eafily  b»e  conceived. 
Every  image  of  vengeance,  feverity,  cruelty,  and 
malice  muft  occur,  and  muft  augment  the  ghafl- 
linefs  and  horror,  which  opprefTes  the  amazed  reli- 
gionift.  A  panic  having  once  feized  the  mind, 
the  a6bive  fancy  ftill  farther  multiplies  the  objects 
of  terror ;  while  that  profound  darknefs,  or,  what 
is  worfe,  that  glimmering  light,  with  v/hich  we  are 
environed,  reprefents  the  fpeftres  of  divinity  un- 
der the  moft  dreadful  appearances  imaginable. 
And  no  idea  of  perverfe  wickednefs  can  be  framed, 
which  thofe  terrified  devotees  do  not  readily,  with- 
out fcruple,  apply  to  their  deity. 

This  appears  the  natural  ftate  of  religion,  when 
furveyed  in  one  light.  But  if  we  confider,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  fpirit  of  praife  and  eulogy,  which 
neceffarily  has  place  in  all  religions,  and  which  is 
the  confequence  of  thefe  very  terrors,  we  mull  ex- 
peel  a  quite  contrary  fyftem  of  theology  to  prevail. 
Every  virtue,   every   excellence,   muft  be  afcribed 

to 


458      The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

to  the  divinity,  and  no  exaggeration  will  be 
deemed  fufficient  to  reach  thole  perfedlions,  with 
which  he  is  endowed.  "Whatever  ilrains  of  pane- 
gyric can  be  invented,  are  immediately  embrac- 
ed, without  confulting  any  arguments  or  phse- 
nomena :  It  is  efteemed  a  fufficient  confirmation 
of  them,  that  they  give  us  more  magnificent 
ideas  of  the  divine  objeds  of  our  worlhip  and 
adoration. 

Here  therefore  is  a  kind  of  contradiction  between 
the  different  principles  of  human  nature,  which  en- 
ter into  religion.  Our  natural  terrors  prefent  the 
notion  of  a  devililh  and  malicious  deity  :  Our  pro- 
penfity  to  adulation  leads  us  to  acknowledge  an 
excellent  and  divine.  And  the  influence  of  thefe 
oppofite  principles  are  various,  according  to 
the   different  fituation  of  the  human  underfland- 

In  very  barbarous  and  ignorant  natipns,  fuch 
as  the  Africans  and  Indians,  nay  even  the  Japonefe, 
who  can  form  no  extenfive  ideas  of  power  and 
knowledge,  worlhip  may  be  paid  to  a  being,  whom 
they  confefs  to  be  wicked  and  deteflable ;  though 
they  may  be  cautious,  perhaps,  of  pronouncing 
this  judgment  of  him  in  public,  or  in  his  tem- 
ple, where  he  may  be  ilippofcd  to  hear  their 
reproaches. 

Such  rude,  imperfe^V  ideas  of  the  Divinity  ad- 
here long  to  all  idolaters;  and  it  may  fafely  be  af- 
firmed, that  the  Greeks  themfclves  never  got  en- 
tirely rid  of  them.  It  is  remarked  by  Xenophon  *. 
in  praife  of  Socrate^,  that  this  philofopher  aflent- 
ed  not  to  the  vulgar  opinion,  which  fuppofed 
the  gods  to  know  fome  things,  and  be  igno- 
rant of  others  :  Pie  maintained,  that  they  knew 
everv  thing;  what  was  done,  faid,  or  even  thought. 

But 

*  Mem.  lib.  i. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     459 

But  as  this  was  a  ftrain  of  philofophy  f  much 
above  the  conception  of  his  countrymen,  we  need 
not  be  furprifed,  if  very  frankly,  in  their  books 
and  convcrfation,  ihty  blamed  the  deities,  whom 
they  worfhippcd  in  their  temples.  It  is  obferv- 
abJe,  that  Herodotus  in  particular  fcruples  not, 
in  many  paflages,  to  afcribc  envy  to  the  gods ; 
a  fentiment,  of  all  others,  the  moll  fuitable  to 
a  mean  and  devililh  nature.  The  pagan  hymns, 
however,  fung  In  public  worfhip,  contained  no- 
thing but  epithets  of  praife;  even  while  the  ac- 
tions afcribcd  to  the  gods  were  the  moft  bar- 
barous and  detellable.  When  Timotheus,  the 
poet,  recited  a  poem  to  Diana,  in  which  he  enu- 
merated, with  the  greatefl  eulogies,  all  the  ac- 
tions and  alitributes  of  that  cruel,  capricious  god- 
defs:  May  your  daughter ^  faid  one  prefent,  become 
Juch  as  the  deity  whom  you  celebrate  *. 

But  aG  men  farther  exalt  their  idea  of  their  divi- 
nity ;  it  is  their  notion  of  his  power  and  knowledge 
only,  not  of  his  goodnefs,  which  is  improved. 
On  the  contrary,  in  proportion  to  the  fuppofed 
extent  of  his  fcience  and  authority,  their  terrors 
naturally  augment;  while  they  believe,  that  no 
fecrecy  can  conceal  them  from  his  fcrutiny,  and 
that  even  the  inmofl  recefTes  of  their  breaft  lie 
open  before  him.  They  muft  then  be  careful 
not  to  form  exprefsly  any  fentiment  of  blame 
and  difapprobation.  All  muft  be  applaufe,  ra- 
vifnment,  extacy.  And  while  their  gloomy  ap- 
prehenfions  make  them  afcribe  to  him  meafures 
of  conduct,  which,  in  human  creatures,  would 
be  highly  blamed,  they   muft  flill  affcft  to  praife 

and 

f  It  was  conficlered  among  the  ancients,  as  a  very  extraordi- 
nary, philofophical  paradox,  that  the  prefence  of  the  gods  was 
not  contincd  to  the  heavens,  but  were  extended  every  where; 
as  we  learn  from  Lucian.   Hirmotimus  Jive  De  /edits . 

*  Plutarch,  de  Superftit. 


460     The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

and  admire  that  condud:    in  the  objeft  of  their 
devotional  addrefles.     Thus  it  may  fafely    be    af- 
firmed, that   popular   religions    are   really,  in  the 
conception  of  their  more   vulgar  votaries,  a  fpe- 
cies   of  dsemonifmi    and   the  higher  the   deity   is 
exalted    in   power   and   knowledge,    the  lower  of 
courfe  is  he  deprelTed    in    goodnefs  and    benevo- 
lence;   whatever   epithets    of  praife   may   be    be- 
llowed on  him  by  his  amazed   adorers.      Among 
idolaters,  the  words  may  be  falfe,  and  belie  the 
fecret  opinien  :  But  among  more  exalted  religio- 
nifts,  the  opinion  itfelf  contra<5ls  a  kind  of  falfe- 
hood,    and    belies    the    inward    fentiment.      The 
heart  fecretly  detefls  fuch   meafures  of  cruel  and 
implacable    vengeance ;    but   the  judgment  dares 
not    but    pronounce    them   perfeft  and   adorable. 
And   the  additional  mifery  of  this  inward  ftrug- 
gle    aggravates    all    the   other   terrors,    by   which 
thefe  unhappy  viftims   to  fuperftition  are  for  ever 
haunted. 

Lucian  *  obferves  that  a  yoyng  man,  who  reads 
the  hifiory  of   the   gods    in    Homer    or    Hefiod, 
and  finds  their  fa6lions,    wars,  injullice,  inceft,  a- 
dultery,   and  other  immoralities  fo  highly  celebrat- 
ed,   is  much  furprifed  afterwards,  when  he  comes 
into  the  world,  to  obferve  that  punifhments  are  by 
law   inflifted    on  the  fame  anions,   which  he  had 
been  taught   to   afcribe  to  fuperior   beings.      The 
contradiction  is  ftill  perhaps  flronger  between   the 
rcprefentations  given  us  by  fome  later  religions  and 
our   natural   ideas  of  generofity,.  lenity,  impartia- 
lity,  andjufticci    and  in  proportion  to  the  multi- 
plied terrors  of  thcfe  religions,  the  barbarous  con- 
ceptions of  the  divinity  are  multiplied  upon  us  f. 
Nothing  can  preferve  untainted  the  genuine  princi- 
ples of  morals  in  our  judgment  of  human  conducft, 
but   the    abfolutc   neceliity   of  thefe  principles    to 
the  exiftence  of  fociety.     If  common  conception 

can 
*  Nccyomantia. 
t  See  NOTE   [EEE.] 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.       461 

can  indulge  princes  in  a  fyftem  of  ethics,  fome- 
what  different  from  that  which  fhould  regulate  pri- 
vate perfons ;  how  much  more  thofe  fuperior  be- 
ings, whofe  attributes,  views,  and  nature  are  fo 
totally  unknown  to  us  ?  Sunt  Juperis  Jua  jura  *.  The 
gods  have  maxims  of  juftice  peculiar  to  them- 
lelves. 


Sect.   XIV.    Bad  influence   of  popular   religions  on 
morality. 

Here  I  cannot  forbear  obferving  a  fad,  which 
may  be  worth  the  attention  of  fuch  as  make  human 
nature  the  obje(fl  of  their  enquiry.     It  is  certain, 
that,  in  every  religion,  however  fublime  the  verbal 
definition  which  it  gives  of  its  divinity,  many  of 
the  votaries,  perhaps  the  greateft  number,  will  ftill 
feek  the  divine   favour,   not  by   virtue  and  good 
morals,  which  alone  can  be  acceptable  to  a  perfe6t 
being,   but  either  by  frivolous  obfervances,    by  in- 
temperate zeal,    by  rapturous  extafies,    or   by  the 
belief  of  myfterious    and    abfurd   opinions.      The 
lealt  part  of  the  Sadder,  as  well  as  of  the  Pentateuch^ 
confifts  in  precepts  of  morality  -,   and  we  may  alfo 
be  aflured,  that  that  part  was  always  the  leaft  ob- 
ferved  and  regarded.  When  the  old  Romans  were  at- 
tacked with  a  peililence,   they  never  afcribed  their 
fufferings  to  their  vices,  or  dreamed  of  repentance 
and   amendment.     They  never  thought,   that  they 
were  the  general  robbers  of  the  world,   whofe   am- 
bition and  avarice  made  defolate  the  earth,  and  re- 
duced   opulent    nations    to    want    and     beggary. 
They  only   created  a  didatorljl,  in  order  to  drive 
a  nail  into  a  door ;    and  by  that  means,  they  thought 
that  they  had  fufficiently  appeafed  their  incenfed 
deity. 

2  In 

*  Ovid.  Metam.  lib.  ix.  501. 

X  Called  Di^^ator  calvis  figendae  caufa.     T.  Livii,  I.  vii.  c.  5. 


462       The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

In  iEgina,  one  fadlion  forming  a  confpiracy, 
barbaroufly  and  treacheroufly  afTafiinated  feven  hun- 
dred of  their  fellow-citizens  ;  and  carried  their  fury 
fo  far,  that,  one  miferable  fugitive  having  fled  to 
the  temple,  they  cut  off  his  hands,  by  which  he 
clung  to  the  gates,  and  carrying  him  out  of  holy 
ground,  immediately  murdered  him.  By  this  im- 
petyy  fays  Herodotus*,  (not  by  the  other  many 
cruel  aliaflinations)  they  offended  the  godsy  and  con- 
traced  an  inexpiable  guilt. 

Nay,  if  wefhould  fuppofe,  v/hat  never  happens, 
that  a  popular  religion  were  found,  in  vvh.cii  it  was 
exprefsly  declared,  that  nothing  but  morality  could 
gain  the  divine  favour;  if  an  order  of  priefts  were 
inftituted  to  inculcate  this  opinion,  in  daily  fer- 
mons,  and  with  all  the  arts  of  perfuafion ;  yet  fo 
inveterate  are  the  people's  prejudices,  that,  for 
want  of  fome  other  fuperftition,  they  would  make 
the  very  attendance  on  thefe  fermons  the  effentials 
of  religion,  rather  than  place  them  in  virtue  and 
good  morals.  The  fublime  prologue  of  Zaleucus's 
laws  J  infpired  not  the  Locrians,  fo  far  as  we  can 
learn,  with  any  founder  notions  of  the  meifures  of 
acceptance  with  the  deity,  than  were  familiar  to  the 
other  Greeks. 

This  obfervation,  then,  holds  univerfally:  But 
ftill  one  may  be  at  fome  lofs  to  account  for  it. 
It  is  not  fufficient  to  obferve,  that  the  people, 
every  where,  degrade  their  deities  into  a  fimilitude 
with  themfelves,  and  confider  them  merely  as  a 
fpecies  of  human  creatures,  fomcwhat  more  po- 
tent and  intelligent.  This  will  not  remove  thg 
difficulty.  For  there  is  no  man  fo  ftupid,  as  thj^j. 
judging  by  his  natural  reafon,  he  would  ^^^ 
efteem  virtue  and  honefty  the  moil  valuable  q^^, 
lities,  which  any  perfon  could  pofiefs.  Why  ^ot 
afcribe   the  fam.e  lentiment  to  his  deity  ?  Why  ^ot 

make 


Lib.  vi.         I  To  be  found  In  Diod.  Sic.  lib. 


Xil. 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion'.     46J 

make  all  religion,   or  the  chief  part  of  it,  to  confift 
in  thefe  attainments  ? 

Nor  is  it  fatisfaftory  to  fay,  that  the  pradlice  of 
morality  is  more  difficult  than  that  of  fuperitition ; 
and  is  therefore  rejefted.  For,  not  to  mention  the 
excefTive  penances  of  the  Brachmans  2.^6.  Talapoins  ; 
it  is  certain,  that  the  Rhamadan  of  the  Turks,  dur- 
ing which  the  poor  wretches,  for  many  days,  often 
in  the  hotteft  months  of  the  year,  and  in  fome  of 
the  hotteft  climates  of  world,  remain  without  eat- 
ing or  drinking  from  the  rifing  to  the  fetting  funj 
this  Rhamadan,  I  fay,  muft  be  more  fevere  than  the 
pradlice  of  any  moral  duty,  even  to  the  mod  vici- 
ous and  depraved  of  mankind.  The  four  lents  of 
the  Mufcovites,  and  the  aufterities  of  fome  Roman. 
CatholicSy  appear  more  difagreeable  than  meeknefs 
and  benevolence.  In  fhort,  all  virtue,  when  men 
are  reconciled  to  it  by  ever  fo  little  pradlice,  is 
agreeable  :  All  fuperftition  is  for  ever  odious  and 
burthen  fome. 

Perhaps,  the  following  account  may  be  receiv- 
ed as  a  true  folution  of  the  difficulty.  The  du- 
ties, which  a  man  performs  as  a  friend  or  parent^, 
feem  merely  owing  to  his  ben^fador  or  chil- 
dren ;  nor  can  he  be  wanting  to  thefe  duties, 
without  breaking:  throug-h  all  the  ties  of  nature 
and  morality.  A  flrong  mclinarion  may  prompt 
him  to  the  performance  :  A  fentiment  of  order 
and  moral  obligation  joins  its  force  to  thefe  natu- 
ral ties  :  And  the  whole  man,  if  truly  virtuous, 
is  drawn  to  his  duty,  without  any  effort  or  en- 
deavour. Even  with  regard  ta  the  virtues,  which 
are  more  auflcre,  and  more  founded  on.  retieftion, 
fuch  as  public  fpirit,  filial  duty,  temperance,  o-r 
integrity ;  the  moral  obligation,  in  our  apprehen- 
fion,  removes  all  pretenfion  to  religious  merit; 
and  the  virtuous  condudt  is  deemed  no  more  than 
what  we  owe  to  fociety  and  to  ourfelves.  In  all 
this,    a  fuperftitious   man    finds    nothing,    which 


4^4     The  Natural  History  of  ReLigkjn. 

he  has  properly  performed  for  the  fake  of  his 
deity,  or  which  can  peculiarly  recommend  him  to 
the  divine  favour  and  protedlion.  He  confiders 
not,  that  the  mod  genuine  method  of  ferving  the 
divinity  is  by  promoting  the  happinefs  of  his  crea- 
tures. He  (till  looks  out  for  fome  more  immedi- 
ate fervice  of  the  fupreme  Being,  in  order  to  allay 
thofe  terrors,  with  which  he  is  haunted.  And  any 
pradlice,  recommended  to  him,  which  either  ferves 
to  no  purpofe  in  life,  or  offers  the  ftrongeft  vio- 
lence to  his  natural  inclinations  j  that  pra6tice  he 
will  the  more  readily  embrace,  on  account  of  thofe 
very  circumftanGes>  which  ihould  make  him  ab- 
folutely  reject  it.  It  feems  the  more  purely  reli- 
gious, becaufe  it  proceeds  from  no  mixture  of  any 
other  motive  or  confideration.  And  if,  for  its 
fake,  he  facrifices  much  of  his  cafe  and  quiet,  his 
claim  of  merit  appears  flili  to  rife  upon  him,  in 
proportion  to  the  zeal  and  devotion  which  he  dif- 
covers.  In  reftoring  a  loan,  or  paying  a  debt,  his 
divinity  is  nowife  beholden  to  him  j  becaufe  thefe 
at^s  of  juflice  are  what  he  was  bound  to  perform, 
and  what  many  would  have  performed,  were  there 
no  god  in  the  univerfe.  But  if  he  fad  a  day,  or 
give  himfelf  a  found  whipping ;  this  has  a  di- 
rect reference,  in  his  opinion,  to  the  fervice  of 
God.  No  other  motive  could  engage  him  to  fuch 
aufterities.  By  thefe  diftinguifhed  marks  of  de- 
votion, he  has  now  acquired  the  divine  favour; 
and  may  expetft,  in  recompence,  protection  and 
fafety  in  this  world,  and  eternal  happinefs  in  the 
next. 

Hence  the  greateft  crimes  have  been  found, 
in  many  inftances,  compatible  with  a  fuperfti- 
tious  piety  and  devotion  j  Hence,  it  is  jufily  re- 
garded as  unlafe  to  draw  any  certain  intcrence 
in  favour  of  a  man's  morals  from  the  fervour  or 
ftriclnefs  of  his  religious  exercifes,  even  though 
he   himfelf    believe  them    fincere.       Nay,    it    has 

been 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     465 

been  obferved,  that  enormities  of  the  blackefl:  dcy 
have  been  rather  apt  to  produce  fiiperftitious  ter- 
rors, and  encreafe  the  religious  palFion.  Bomilcar, 
having  formed  a  confpiracy  for  affafllnating  at  once 
the  whole  fenate  of  Carthage,  and  invading  the 
liberties  of  his  country,  loft  the  opportunity,  from  a 
continual  regard  to  omens  and  prophecies,  'tbofe  who 
undertake  the  moji  crminal  and  moft  dangerous  enter- 
frizes  are  commonly  the  moJi  Juperjiitious  ;  as  an  an- 
cient hiftorian  *  remarks  on  this  occafion.  T  heir 
devotion  and  fpiritual  faith  rife  with  their  fears. 
Catiline  was  not  contented  with  the  eftablifhed 
deities,  and  received  rites  of  the  national  religi- 
on :  His  anxious  terrors  made  him  feck  new  in- 
ventions of  this  kind  f  j  which  he  never  proba- 
bly had  dreamed  of,  had  he  remained  a  good 
citizen,    and   obedient    to    the   laws  of  his   coun- 

To  which  we  may  add,  iliat,  after  the  commif- 
fion  of  crimes,  there  arifc  remorfes  and  fecret  hor- 
rors, which  give  no  reft  to  the  mind,  but  make  it 
have  recourfe  to  religious  rites  and  ceremonies, 
as  expiations  of  its  offences.  Whatever  weak- 
ens or  diforders  the  internal  frame  promote* 
the  interefts  of  fuperftition  :  And  nothing  i3 
more  deftrudtive  to  them  than  a  manly,  fteady  vir- 
tue, which  either  preferves  us  from  difaftrous,  me- 
lancholy accidents,  or  reaches  us  to  bear  them. 
During  fuch  calm  funfhine  of  the  mind,  thefe  fpec- 
trcs  of  falfe  divinity  never  make  their  appear- 
ance. On  the  other  hand,  while  we  abandon  our- 
felves  to  the  natural  undifcipiined  fuggellions  of 
our  timid  and  anxious  kearts,  every  kind  of  bar- 
barity is  afcribed  to  the  fupreme  Being,  from  the 
terrors  with  which  we  are  agitated  ;  and  every  kind  - 
of  caprice,  from  the  methods  which  we  embrace 
in  order  to  appeafe  him.     Barbarity^  caprice -y  thefe 

Vol.  II.  H  h  qUvilities, 

*  Diod.  Sic.  lib.  xv. 

t  Cic.  Catil.  i.     SallnH.  de  bello  Catil. 


mt 


466      The  Natural  History  of  Religion. 

qualities,  however  nominally  difguifed,  we  may 
univerfally  obferve,  form  the  ruling  charafter  of 
the  deity  in  popular  religions.  Even  priefts,  in- 
ftead  of  correcting  thefe  depraved  ideas  of  man- 
kind, have  often  been  found  ready  to  fofter  and 
encourage  them.  The  more  tremendous  the  divi- 
nity is  reprefented,  the  more  tame  and  fubmifTive 
do  men  become  to  his  minifters  :  And  the  more 
unaccountable  the  meafures  of  acceptance  required 
by  him,  the  more  neceflary  does  it  become  to 
abandon  our  natural  reafon,  and  yield  to  their 
ghoitly  guidance  and  direftion.  Thus  it  may  be 
allowed,  that  the  artifices  of  men  aggravate  our  na- 
tural infirmities  and  follies  of  this  kind,  but  never 
originally  beget  them.  Their  root  (trikes  deeper 
into  the  mind,  and  fprings  from  the  eflential  and 
univerfal  properties  of  human  nature. 

Sect.  XV.     General  Corollary. 

Though  the  ftupidity  of  men,  barbarous  and 
uninltrufted,  be  fo  great,  that  they  may  not  fee  a 
fovereign  author  in  the  more  obvious  works  of 
nature,  to  which  they  are  fo  much  familiarized  ; 
yet  it  fcarcely  feems  pofTible,  that  any  one  of  good 
underftanding  fhould  rejed:  that  idea,  when  once 
it  is  fuggefted  to  him.  A  purpofe,  an  intention, 
a  delign  is  evident  in  every  thing  ;  and  when  our 
comprehenfion  is  fo  far  enlarged  as  to  contemp- 
late the  firft  rife  of  this  vifible  fyftem,  we  miifb 
adopt,  with  the  ftrongeft  conviftion,  the  idea  of 
fome  intellio:ent  caufe  or  author.  The  uniform 
maxims  too,  which  prevail  throughout  the  whole 
frame  of  the  univerfe,  naturally,  if  not  neceflari- 
ly,  lead  us  to  conceive  this  intelligence  as  finglc 
and  undivided,  where  the  prejudices  of  education 
oppofe  not  fo  reafonable  a  theory.  Even  the  con- 
trarieties of  nature,  by  difcovering  themfelves  tvc~ 
ry  where,  become  proofs  of  fomc  confident  plan, 

and 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.     467 

and  eftablifh  one  Tingle  purpofe  or  intention,  how- 
ever inexplicable  and  incomprehenfible. 

Good  and  ill  arc  univerfally  intermingled  and 
confounded,  happinefs  and  mifery,  wifdom  and 
folly,  virtue  and  vice.  Nothing  is  pure  and  en- 
tirely of  a  piece.  All  advantages  are  attended  with 
difadvantages.  An  univerfal  compenfation  pre- 
vails in  all  conditions  of  being  andexiftence.  And 
it  is  not  poflible  for  us,  by  our  moft  chimerical 
wiflies,  to  form  the  idea  of  a  ftation  or  fituation  al- 
together defirable.  The  draughts  of  life,  accord- 
ing to  the  poet's  fidlion,  are  always  mixed  from 
vefTels  on  each  hand  o(  Jupiter  :  Or  if  any  cup  be 
prefented  altogether  pure,  it  is  drawn  only,  as  the 
fame  poet  tells  us,  from  the  left-handed  veflel. 

The  more  exquifite  any  good  is,  of  which  a 
fmall  fpecimen  is  afforded  us,  the  Iliarper  is  the 
evil,  allied  to  it ;  and  few  exceptions  are  found  to 
this  uniform  law  of  nature.  The  moft  fprightly 
wit  borders  on  madnefs  -,  the  higheft  efFufions  of 
joy  produce  the  deepeft  melancholy  j  the  moft  ra- 
viftiing  pleafures  are  attended  with  the  moft  cruel 
lallitude  and  difguft ;  the  moft  flattering  hopes 
make  way  for  the  fevereft  difappointments.  And, 
in  general,  no  courfe  of  life  has  fuch  fafety  (for 
happinefs  is  not  to  be  dreamed  of)  as  the  tempe- 
rate and  moderate,  which  maintains,  as  far  as  pof- 
fible,  a  mediocrity,  and  a  kind  of  infenfibility,  in 
every  thing. 

As  the  good,  the  great,  the  fublime,  the  ravifli- 
ing  are  found  eminently  in  the  genuine  principles 
of  theifm;  it  may  be  expected,  from  the  analogy 
of  nature,  that  the  bafe,  the  abfurd,  the  mean, 
the  terrifying  will  be  equally  difcovered  in  religi- 
ous fictions  and  chimeras. 

The  univerfal  propenfity  to  believe  in  invifible,  in- 
telligent power,  if  not  an  original  inftincl,   being 
at  leaft  a  general  attendant  of  human  nature,  may 
be  confidered  as  a  kind  of  mark  or  ftamp,  which  the 
H  h  2  divine 


468     The  Natural  History  of  Religion". 

divine  workman  has  fet  upon  his  work ;  and  no- 
thing furcly  can  more  dignify  mankind,  than  to  be 
thus  felc(Eted  from  all  other  parts  of  the  creation, 
and  to  bear  the  image  or  impreffion  of  the  univer- 
fal  Creator.  But  confult  this  image,  as  it  appears 
in  the  popular  religions  of  the  world.  How  is  the 
deity  disfigured  in  our  reprefentations  of  him  !  What 
caprice,  abfurdity,  and  immorality  are  attributed 
to  him  !  How  much  is  he  degraded  even  below  the 
charafter,  which  we  fliould  naturally,  in  common 
life,  afcribe  to  a  man  of  fenfe  and  virtue  ! 

What  a  noble  privilege  is  it  of  human  reafon  to 
attain  the  knowledge  of  the  fupreme  Being ;  and, 
from  the  vifible  works  of  nature,  be  enabled  to  in- 
fer fo  fublime  a  principle  as  its  fupreme  Creator  ? 
But  turn  the  reverfe  of  the  medal.  Survey  mofl 
nations  and  mod  ages.  Examine  the  religious 
principles,  which  have,  in  fact,  prevailed  in  the 
world.  You  will  fcarcely  be  perfuaded,  that  they 
are  any  thing  but  fick  men's  dreams :  Or  perhaps 
will  regard  them  more  as  the  playfome  whimfies  of 
monkies  in  human  fhape,  than  the  ferious,  pofitive, 
dogmatical  afleverations  of  a  being,  who  dignifies 
himfelf  with  the  name  of  rational. 

Hear  the  verbal  proteftations  of  all  men  :  No- 
thing fo  certain  as  their  religious  tenets.  Examine 
their  lives :  You  will  fcarcely  think  that  they  re- 
pofe  the  fmalleft  confidence  in  them. 

The  greateft  and  truell  zeal  gives  us  no  fecurity 
againft  hypocrify :  The  miOft  open  impiety  is  at- 
tended with  a  fecret  dread  and  compun6tion. 

No  theological  abfurdities  fo  glaring  that  they 
have  nor,  fometimes,  been  embraced  by  men  of 
the  greateft  and  inoft  cultivated  underflanding. 
No  religious  precepts  fo  rigorous  that  they  have 
not  been  adopted  by  the  molt  voluptuous  and  molt 
abandoned  of  men. 

Ignorance 


The  Natural  History  of  Religion.      469 

Ignorance  is  the  mother  of  Devotion :  A  maxim 
that  is  proverbial,  and  confirmed  by  general  ex- 
perience. Look  out  for  a  people,  entirely  dcfti- 
tute  of  religion  :  If  you  find  them  at  all,  be  aflured, 
that  they  are  but  few  degrees  removed  from  brutes. 

What  fo  pure  as  fome  of  the  morals,  included  in 
fome  theological  fyftems  ?  What  fo  corrupt  as  fome 
of  the  practices,  to  which  thefe  fyftems  give  rife  ? 

The  comfortable  views,  exhibited  by  the  belief 
of  futurity,  are  ravifliing  and  delightful.  But  how 
quickly  vaniili  on  the  appearance  of  its  terrors, 
which  keep  a  more  firm  and  durable  pofienion  of 
the  human  mind  ? 

The  whole  is  a  riddle,  an  a^nigna,  an  inexpli- 
cable myftery.  Doubt,  uncertainty,  fufpence  of 
judgment  appear  the  only  refult  of  our  moft  ac- 
curate fcrutiny,  concejning  this  fubjeft.  But  fuch 
is  the  frailty  of  human  reafon,  and  fuch  the  irrefift- 
ible  contagion  of  opinion,  that  even  this  deliberate 
doubt  could  fcarcely  be  upheld;  did  we  not  enlarge 
our  view,  and  oppofing  one  fpecies  of  fuperfrition 
to  another,  let  them  a  quarrelling;  while  we  our- 
felves,  during  their  fury  and  contention,  happily 
make  our  efcape,  into  the  caim^  though  obfcure, 
regions  of  philofophy. 


NOTES 


d 


(    471     ) 


NOTE 


T  O     T  H  E 


SECOND     VOLUME' 


NOTE  [A],  p.  22. 


I 


T  is  probable  that  no  more  was  meant  by  thofe,  who  de- 
nied innate  ideas,  than  that  all  ideas  were  copies  of  our  im- 
prefTionsj  though  it  muft  be  confefled,  that  the  terms, 
which  they  employed,  were  not  chofeu  with  fuch  caution, 
norfo  exactly  defined,  as  to  prevent  all  miftakes  about  their 
doftrine.  For  what  is  meant  by  innate  ?  If  innate  be  equi- 
valent to  natural,  then  all  the  perceptions  and  ideas  of  the 
mind  muft  be  allo\\'ed  to  be  innate  or  natural,  in  whatever 
fenfe  we  take  the  latter  word,  whether  in  oppofition  to 
what  is  uncommon,  artificial,  or  miraculous.  If  by  innate 
be  meant,  cotemporary  to  our  birth,  the  difputefeems  tobe 
frivolous;  nor  is  it  worth  while  to  enquire  at  what  time 
thinking  begins,  whether  before,  at,  or  after  our  birth. 
Again,  the  word  idea,  fcems  to  be  commonly  taken  in  a 
very  loofe  fenfe,  by  Locke  and  others ;  as  ftanding  for  any 
of  our  perceptions,  our  fenfations  and  paiCons,  as  well  as 
thoughts.  Now  in  this  fenfe,  I  Ihauld  delire  to  know, 
what  can  be  meant  by  aflerting,  that  felf-love,  or  refent- 
_ment  of  injuries,  or  the  pafllon  between  the  fexes  is  not  in- 
nate ? 

But 


472 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 


But  admitting  thefe  terms,  imprejjions  and  ideas,  in  the 
fenfe  above  explained,  and  undertlandingby  innate,  what  is 
original  or  copied  from  no  precedent  perception,  thea 
may  we  affert,  that  all  our  impreilions  are  innate,  and 
our   ideas  not  innate. 

To  be  ingenuous,  I  muft  own  it  to  be  my  opinion, 
that  Locke  was  betrayed  into  this  queftion  by  the  fchool- 
men,  who,  making  uie  of  undefined  terms,  dravv'  out  their 
difputes  lo  a  tedious  length,  without  ever  touching  the 
point  in  queilion.  A  like  ambiguity  and  circumlocution 
feem  to  run  through  that  philofopher's  reasonings  on  this 
^s  well  as  moft  other  fubjecls. 


NOTE  [Bj,  p.  49. 


N. 


OTHING  is  more  ufual  than  for  writers,  even 
on  moral,  political,  or  phyfical  fubjecis,  to  diftinguith  be- 
tween reafon  and  experience,  and  to  fuppofe,  that  thele  fpe- 
cies  of  argumentation  are  entirely  different  from  eacli 
other.  The  forsjier  are  taken  for  the  mere  refult  of  our  in- 
telledlual  faculties,  which,  by  confidering  a  priori  the  na- 
ture of  things,  and  examining  the  effects,  that  muft  follow 
from  their  operaHon,  eflablilh  particular  principles  of  fci- 
ence  and  philofophy.  The  latter  are  fuppofed  to  be  deri- 
ved entirely  from  fenfe  and  obfervation,  by  which  we 
learn  what  has  a<ffually  refulted  from  the  operation  of  par- 
ticular objefts,  and  are  thence  able  to  infer,  what  will,  for 
the  future,  refult  from  them.  Thus,  for  inftance,  the  li- 
mitations and  reftraints  of  civil  government,  and  a  legal 
conftitution  may  hz  defended,  either  from  reafcn,  which 
refle£ling  on  the  great  frailty  and  corruption  of  human  na- 
ture, teaches,  that  no  man  can  fafely  be  truded  with  unli- 
mited authority  ;  or  from  experience  and  hiftory,  which  in- 
form us  of  the  enormous  abufes,  that  ambition,  in  every 
age  and  country,  has  been  found  to  make  of  fo  imprudent 
a  conridence. 

The  fame  diftinilion  between  reafon  and  experience  is 
maintained  in  all  our  deliberations  concerning  the  Condud 
of  life;  while  the  experienced  ftatefman,  general,  phyfician, 
or  mercliant  is  trufted  and  follov.ed ;  and  the  unprattifed 
liovice,  with  whatever  natural  talents  endowed,  neglefted 

and 


"Notes  to  the  Second  V'olume.  4.73 

and  defpifed.  Though  it  be  allowed,  that  reafon  may  form 
very  plaufible  conjcdtures  with  regard  to  the  confequences 
of  fuch  a  particular  condudt  in  fuch  particular  circumftances  j 
it  is  ftill  luppoled  imperfed,  without  the  alTiftance  of  expe- 
rience, which  is  alone  able  to  give  rtability  and  certainty  to 
the  ma^'ims,  derived  from  ftudy  and  reflexion. 

But  notwithftanding  that  this  diftin(Stion  be  thus  univer- 
fally  received,  both  in  the  aitiveand  fpeculative  fcenes  of  life, 
1  fiiall  not  fcruple  to  pronounce,  that  it  is  at  bottom,  errone- 
ous, at  leaft,  fuperlicial. 

If  we  examine  thofe  arguments,  which,  in  any  of  the 
fciences  above-mentioned,  are  fuppofed  to  be  the  mere  ef- 
feds  of  reafoning  and  refledlion,  they  will  be  found  to  ter- 
minate, at  laft,  in  fome  general  principle  or  concluhon,  for 
which  we  can  afiign  no  reafon  but  obfervation  and  experi- 
ence. The  only  difference  between  them  and  thofe  max- 
ims, which  are  vulgarly  efteemed  the  refult  of  pure  experi- 
ence, is  that  the  former  cannot  be  eftablifhed  without  fome 
procefs  of  thought,  and  fome  refledlion  on  what  we  have 
obferved,  in  order  to  diftinguifli  its  circumrtances,  and  trace 
its  confequences  :  Whereas  in  the  latter,  the  experienced 
even^  is  exadly  and  fully  fimilar  to  that  which  we  infer  as 
the  efult  of  any  particular  fituation.  The  hiftory  of  a 
Tiberius  or  a  Nero  makes  us  dread  a  like  tyranny,  were 
our  monarchs  freed  from  the  reftraints  of  laws  and  fenates: 
But  the  obfervation  of  any  fraud  or  cruelty  in  private  life  is 
fufficient,  with  the  aid  of  a  little  thought,  to  give  us  the 
fame  apprehenfion  ;  while  it  ferves  us  as  an  inftance  of  the 
general  corruption  of  human  nature,  and  fhews  us  the 
danger  which  we  muft  incur  by  repofing  an  entire  confidence 
in  mankind.  In  both  cafes,  it  is  experience  wliich  is  ulti- 
mately the  foundation  of  out  inference  and  conclufion. 

There  is  no  man  fo  young  and  unexperienced,  as  not  to 
have  formed,  from  obfervation,  many  general  and  juft  max- 
ims concerning  human  affairs  and  the  condudl  of  life  ;  but 
it  mud  be  confeffed,  that,  when  a  man  comes  to  put  thefe 
in  pradice,  he  will  be  extremely  liable  to  error,  till  time 
and  farther  experience  both  enlarge  thefe  maxims,  and 
teach  him  their  proper  ufe  and  application.  In  every 
fituation  or  incident,  there  are  many  particular  and  feem- 
ingly  minute  circumftances,  which  the  man  of  greateft 
talents  is,  at  firft,  apt  to  overlook,  though  on  them  the 
juftnefs  of  his  conclulions,  and  cowfequently  the  prudence 
I  of 


474  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

of  his  condu6l,  entirely  depend.  Not  to  mention, 
that,  to  a  young  beginner,  the  general  obfervations  and 
maxims  occur  not  always  on  the  proper  occafions,  nor 
can  be  immediately  applied  with  due  calmnefs  and  dif- 
tindion.  The  truth  is,  an  unexperienced  reafoner  could 
be  no  reafoner  at  all,  were  he  abfolutely  unexperienced; 
and  when  we  aflign  that  charadler  to  any  one,  we  mean 
it  only  in  a  comparative  fenfe,  and  fuppofe  him  pofT- 
efled  of  experience,  in  a  fmaller  and  more  imperfedt 
degree. 


NOTE  [C],  p.  72. 


I 


T  may  be  pretended,  that  the  refinance  which  we  meet 
with  in  bodies,  obliging  us  frequently  to  exert  our  force, 
and  call  up  our  power,  this  gives  us  the  idea  of  force 
and  power.  It  is  this  nifus  or  ftrong  endeavour,  of 
which  we  are  confcious,  that  is  the  original  impreflion 
from  which  this  idea  is  copied.  But,  firft,  we  attribute 
power  to  a  vaft  number  of  objefts,  where  we  never  can 
fuppofe  this  reGilance  or  exertion  of  force  to  take  place; 
to  the  Supreme  Being,  who  never  meets  with  any  re- 
fiftance;  to  the  mind  in  its  command  over  its  ideas 
and  limbs,  in  common  thinking  and  motion,  where  the 
effe(Sl  follows  immediarely  upon  the  will,  without  any 
exertion  or  fummonin^  up  of  force;  to  inanimate  mat- 
ter, which  is  not  capable  of  this  fentiment.  Secondly^ 
This  fentirnent  of  an  endeavour  to  overcome  refiftance 
has  no  known  connexion  with  any  event:  What  fol- 
lows it,  we  know  by  experience;  but  could  not  know 
it  a  priori.  It  muft,  however,  be  confelTed,  that  the 
animal  riptr,  which  we  experience,  though  it  can  afford 
no  accurate  precife  idea  of  power,  enters  very  much  in- 
to that  vulgar,    inaccurate  idea,    which  is  formed  of  it. 


NOTE  [D],  p.  78. 


I 


NEED  not  examine  at  length  the  vis  inertia  which  is 
fo  much  talked  of  in  the  new  philofophy,  and  which  is 

afcribed 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  475 

afcribed  to  matter.  We  find  by  experience,  that  a  body 
at  reft  or  in  motion  continues  for  ever  in  its  prefent 
ftate,  till  put  from  it  by  fome  new  caufe ;  and  that 
a  body  impelled  takes  as  much  motion  from  the  impel- 
ling body  as  it  acquires  itfelf.  Thefe  are  fads.  When 
we  call  this  a  vis  inertia^  we  only  mark  thefe  fafis, 
without  pretending  to  have  any  idea  of  the  inert  pow- 
er ;  in  the  fame  manner  as,  when  we  talk  of  gravity, 
we  mean  certain  effeds,  without  comprehending  that  zt\- 
ive  power.  It  was  never  the  meaning  of  Sir  Ifaac  Newton 
to  rob  fecond  caufes  of  all  force  or  energy ;  though  fome 
of  his  followers  have  endeavoured  to  eftablifh  that  theory 
upon  his  authority.  On  the  contrary,  that  great  philofo- 
pher  had  recourfe  to  an  etherial  adlive  fluid  to  explain  his 
univerfal  attradlionj  though  he  was  fo  cautious  and  modeft 
as  to  allow,  that  it  was  a  mere  hypothefis,  not  to  be  in- 
flfted  on,  without  more  experiments.  I  muft  confefs,  that 
there  is  fomething  in  the  fate  of  opinions  a  little  extraordi- 
nary. Des  Cartes  infinuated  that  do£lrine  of  the  univerfal 
and  fole  efficacy  of  the  Deity,  without  infifting  on  it. 
Malebranche  and  other  Cartefians  made  it  the  foundation 
of  all  their  philofophy.  It  had,  however,  no  authority  in 
England.  Locke,  Clarke,  and  Cudworth,  never  fo  much 
as  take  notice  of  it,  but  fuppofe  all  along,  that  matter 
has  a  real,  though  fubordinate  and  derived  power.  By 
what  means  has  it  become  fo  prevalent  among  our  modern 
metaphyficians  ? 


A. 


NOTE  [EJ,  p.  83. 


.CCORDING  to  thefe  explications  and  definitions, 
the  idea  oi power  is  relative  as  much  as  that  of  caufe ;  and, 
both  have  a  reference  to  an  effe6t,  or  fome  other  event 
conftantly  conjoined  with  the  former.  When  we  confider 
the  unknown  circumftance  of  an  object,  by  which  the  de- 
gree or  quantity  of  its  effedl  is  fixed  and  determined,  we 
call  that  its  power:  And  accordingly,  it  is  allowed  by  all 
philofophers,  that  the  efFeiEl  is  the  meafure  of  the  power. 
But  if  they  had  any  idea  of  power,  as  it  is  in  itfelf, 
why  could  not  they  meafure  it  in  itfelf?  The  difpute  whe- 
ther the  force  of  a  body  in  motion  be  as  its  velocity,  or  the 
fquare  of  its  velocity  j  this  difpute,  I  fay,  needed  not  be 
decided  by  comparing  its  effedts  in  equal  or  unequal  times  j 
but  by  a  dire6l  menfuration  and  comparifon. 

As 


n47<5  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

As  to  the  frequent  ufe  of  the  words.  Force,  Power, 
Energy,  ^c.  which  every  where  occur  in  common  con- 
verfation,  as  well  as  in  philofophy  ;  that  is  no  proof, 
that  we  are  acquainted,  in  any  inftance,  with  the  con- 
ne6ting  principle  between  caufe  and  effedl,  or  can  account 
ultimately  for  the  production  of  one  thing  by  another. 
Thefe  words,  as  commonly  ufed,  have  very  loofe  mean- 
ings annexed  to  themj  and  their  ideas  are  very  uncer- 
tain and  confufed.  No  animal  can  put  external  bodies 
in  motion  without  the  fentiment  of  a  nlfus  or  endea- 
vour ;  and  every  animal  has  a  fentiment  or  feeling  from 
the  flroke  or  blow  of  an  external  objcvfl,  that  is  in  mo- 
tion. Thefe  fenfations,  which  are  merely  animal,  and 
from  which  we  can  a  priori  draw  no  inference,  we  are 
apt  to  transfer  to  inanimate  objects,  and  to  fuppofe,  that 
they  have  fome  fuch  feelings,  whenever  they  transfer  or 
receive  motion.  With  regard  to  energies,  which  are  ex- 
erted, without  our  annexing  to  them  any  idea  of  com- 
municated motion,  we  confider  only  the  conftant  expe- 
rienced conjunction  of  the  events ;  and  as  we  feel  a 
cuftomary  connection  between  the  ideas,  we  transfer  that 
feeling  to  the  objedils  ;  as  nothing  is  more  ufual  than 
to  apply  to  external  bodies  every  internal  fenfation,  which 
they  occafion. 


N  O  T  E  [F],  p.  lOo. 

A  H  E  prevalence  of  the  doflrmc  of  liberty  may  be 
accounted  for,  from  another  caufe,  viz.  a  falfe  fenfa- 
tion or  feeming  experience  which  we  have,  or  may  have, 
of  liberty  or  indifference,  in  many  of  our  adtions.  The 
necelfity  of  any  action,  whether  of  matter  or  of  mind, 
is  not,  properly  fpeaking,  a  quality  in  the  agent,  but  in 
any  thinking  or  intelligent  being,  who  may  confider  the 
action  ;  and  it  confiils  chiefly  in  the  determination  of 
his  thoughts  to  infer  the  exiftence  or  that  adion  from 
fomc  preceding  objefts  ;  as  liberty,  when  oppofed  to 
necelfity,  is  nothing  but  the  want  of  that  determination, 
and  a  certain  loofenefs  or  indifference,  which  we  feel, 
in  palfing,  or  not  pafFing,  from  the  idea  of  one  objedl 
to  that  of  any  fuccecding  one.     Now  we  may  obferve, 

that. 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  477 

that,  though,  in  refleSi'mg  on  human  atSlions,  we  feldom 
feel  fuch  a  loofenefs  or  indifference,  but  are  common- 
ly able  to  infer  them  with  confiderable  certainty  from 
their  motives,  and  from  the  difpofitions  of  the  agent; 
yet  it  frequently  happens,  that,  in  performing  the  adtions 
themfelves,  we  are  fenfible  of  fomething  like  it :  And 
as  all  refembling  objedfs  are  readily  taken  for  each  other, 
this  has  been  employed  as  a  demonftrative  and  even  in- 
tuitive proof  of  human  liberty.  We  feel,  that  our  adlions 
are  fubjetSl  to  our  will,  on  moft  occafions ;  and  imagine 
we  feel,  that  the  will  itfelf  is  fubje6l  to  nothing,  becaufe, 
when  by  a  denial  of  it  we  are  provoked  to  try,  we  feel, 
that  it  moves  eafily  every  way,  and  produces  an  image 
of  itfelf,  (or  a  Velleity^  as  it  is  called  in  the  fchools) 
even  on  that  fide,  on  which  it  did  not  fettle.  This 
image,  or  faint  motion,  we  pcrfuade  ourfelves,  could,  at 
that  time,  have  been  compleated  into  the  thing  itfelf; 
becaufe,  fhould  that  be  denied,  we  find,  upon  a  fecond 
trial,  that,  at  prefent,  it  can.  We  confider  not,  that 
the  fantaftical  defire  of  fhewing  liberty,  is  here  the  mo- 
tive of  our  a<Slions.  And  it  feems  certain,  that,  how- 
ever we  may  imagine  we  feel  liberty  within  ourfelves, 
a  fpe£tator  can  commonly  infer  our  actions  from  our 
motives  and  charader ;  and  even  where  he  cannot,  he 
concludes  in  general,  that  he  might,  were  he  perfectly  ac-^ 
quainted  with  every  circumftance  of  our  iituation  and  tem- 
per, and  the  moft  fecret  fprings  of  our  complexion  and 
difpofition.  Now  this  is  the  very  efi"ence  of  neceffity,  ac- 
cording to  tlie  foreffoino;  doiSlrine. 


NOTE  [GJ,  p.  102. 

X 

M.  HUS,  if  a  caufe  be  defined,  that  which  produces  any 
thing ;  it  is  eafy  to  obferve,  that  producing  is  fynonimous 
to  caufmg.  In  like  manner,  if  a  caufe  be  defined,  that 
by  luhich  any  thing  exijh  ;  this  is  liable  to  the  fame  ob- 
jeifl:ion.  For  what  is  meant  by  thefe  words,  by  which? 
flad  it  been  faid,  that  a  caufe  is  that  after  which  any 
thing  conjlantly  exijis  j  we  fliould  have  underftood  the 
terms.  For  this  is,  indeed,  all  we  know  of  the  mat- 
ter. And  this  confiiancy  forms  the  very  effence  of  ne- 
ceifity,   nor  have  we  any  other  idea  of  ir. 

NOTE 


478  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

NOTE  [HJ,  p.  114. 


»-^INCE  all  reafoningi concerning  fa*3:s  or  caufes  is  de- 
rived merely  from  cuftom,  it  may  be  afked  how  it  happens, 
that  men  fo  much  furpafs  animals  in  reafoning,  and  one 
man  fo  much  furpaffes  another  ?  Has  not  the  fame  cuftom 
the  fame  influence  on  all  ? 

We  (hall  here  endeavour  briefly  to  explain  the  great  dif- 
ference in  human  underfl:andings  :  After  which  the  reafon 
of  the  difference  between  men  and  animals  will  eafily  be 
comprehended. 

1 .  When  we  have  lived  any  time,  and  have  been  accu- 
flomed  to  the  uniformity  of  nature,  we  acquire  a  general 
habit,  by  which  we  always  transfer  the  known  to  the 
unknown,  and  conceive  the  latter  to  refemble  the  former. 
By  means  of  this  general  habitual  principle,  we  regard 
even  one  experiment  as  the  foundation  of  reafoning,  and 
expert  a  fimilar  event  with  fome  degree  of  certainty, 
where  the  experiment  has  been  made  accurately,  and 
free  from  all  foreign  circumftances.  It  is  therefore  con- 
fidered  as  a  matter  of  great  importance  to  obferve  the  con- 
fequences  of  things  j  and  as  one  man  may  very  much 
furpafs  another  in  attention  and  memory  and  obferv^a- 
tion,  this  will  make  a  very  great  difference  in  their  rea- 
foning. 

2.  Where  there  is  a  complication  of  caufes  to  produce 
any  efFe6l,  one  mind  may  be  much  larger  than  another, 
and  better  able  to  comprehend  the  whole  fyflem  of  objefts, 
and  to  infer  juf\ly  their  confequences. 

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

4.  Few  men  can  think  long  without  running  into  a  con- 
fufion  of  ideas,  and  miflaking  one  for  another ;  and  there 
are  various  degrees  of  this  infirmity. 

5.  The  circumitance,  on  which  the  eiTe^l  depends,  is 
frequently  involved  in  other  circumftances,  which  are  fo- 
reign and  extrinfic.  The  feparation  of  it  often  requires 
great  attention,  accuracy,  and  fubtilty. 

6.  The 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  479 

6.  The  forming  of  general  maxims  from  particular  ob- 
fervation  is  a  very  nice  operation  j  and  nothing  is  more  ufual, 
from  hafte  or  a  narrownefs  of  mind,  which  fees  not  on  all 
fides,  than  to  commit  miftakes  in  tiiis  particular. 

7.  When  we  reafon  from  analogies,  the  man,  who  has 
the  greater  experience  or  the  greater  promptitude  of  fuggeft- 
ing  analogies,  will  be  the  better  reafoner. 

8.  Byafles  from  prejudice,  education,  paflion,  party,  ^c, 
hang  more  upon  one  mind  than  another. 

9.  After  we  have  acquired  a  confidence  in  human  tefti- 
mony,  books  and  converfation  enlarge  much  more  the 
fphere  of  one  man's  experience  and  thought  than  thofe  of 
another. 

It  would  be  eafy  to  difcover  many  other  circumftances 
that  make  a  difference  in  the  underftanding  of  men. 


NOTE  [IJ,  p.  122. 


N. 


O  Indian,  it  is  evident,  could  have  experience  that 
water  did  not  freeze  in  cold  climates.  This  is  placing 
nature  in  a  fituation  quite  unknown  to  him  ;  and  it  is 
impoflible  for  him  to  tell  a  priori  what  will  refult  from 
it.  It  is  making  a  new  experiment,  the  confequence  of 
which  is  always  uncertain.  One  may  fometimes  conjec- 
.ture  from  analogy  what  will  follow  j  but  flill  this  is  but 
conjedure.  And  it  muft  be  confeffed,  that,  in  the  pre- 
fent  cafe  of  freezing,  the  event  follows  contrary  to  the 
rules  of  analogy,  and  is  fuch  as  a  rational  Indian  would  not 
look  for.  The  operations  of  cold  upon  water  are  not 
gradual,  according  to  the  degrees  of  cold ;  but  when- 
ever it  comes  to  the.  freezing  point,  the  water  paffes  in 
a  moment,  from  the  utmoll  liquidity  to  perfedt  hard- 
nefs.  Such  an  event,  therefore,  may  be  derjoirunated  ^x- 
traordinary^  and  requires  a  pretty  ftrotic  teftimony,  to 
render  it  credible  to  people  in  a  warm  chmate :  But  ftill 
it  is  not  iniraculoih^  nor  contrary  to  iiriJorm  experience 
of  the  cout-fe  of  namre  in  cafes  whe.x  all  the  circum- 
ftances are  the  fame.  The  inhabitan.'^  of  Sumatra  have 
always  feen  water  fluid  in  their  owr;  climate,  and  the 
freezing  of  their  rivers  ought  to  be  deemed  a  prodigy  : 
But   they  never   favv  water  in  Pvlufcovy  during  the  wMn- 

ters 


4?o  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

ter ;  and  therefore  they  cannot  reafonably  be  pofitive  what 
would  there  be  the  conJfequence. 

NOTE  [KJ,  p.  123. 


►Sometimes  an  event  may  not,  in  itfelf,  feem  to  be 
contrary  to  the  laws  of  nature,  and  yet,  if  it  were  real,  it 
might,  by  reafon  of  fome  circumftances,  be  denominated 
a  miracle;  becaufe,  in  faSf^  it  is  contrary  to  thefe  laws. 
Thus  if  a  perfon,  claiming  a  divine  authority,  fhould  com- 
mand a  fick  perfon  to  be  well,  a  healthful  man  to  fall  down 
dead,  the  clouds  to  pour  rain,  the  winds  to  blow,  in  (hort, 
fhould  order  many  natural  events,  which  immediately  fol- 
low upon  his  command;  thefe  might  juftly  be  efteemed 
miracles,  becaufe  they  are  really,  in  this  cafe,  contrary  to 
the  laws  of  nature.  For  if  any  fufpicion  remain,  that  the 
event  and  command  concurred  by  accident,  there  is  no 
miracle  and  no  tranfgreflion  of  the  laws  of  nature.  If  this 
fufpicion  be  removed,  there  is  evidently  a  miracle,  and  a 
tranfgreflion  of  thefe  laws  ;  becaufe  nothing  can  be  more 
contrary  to  nature  than  that  the  voice  or  command  of  a 
man  ftiould  have  fuch  an  influence.  A  miracle  may  be 
accurately  defined,  a  tranfgrejjion  of  a  law  of  nature  by  a 
particular  volition  of  the  Deity  y  or  by  the  interpofit'ion  of  fome 
invifible  agent.  A  miracle  may  either  be  difcoverable  by 
men  or  not.  This  alters  not  its  nature  and  eflence.  The 
raifm^  of  a  houfe  or  (hip  into  the  air  is  a  vifible  miracle.' 
The  raifmg  of  a  feather,  when  the  wind  wants  ever  fo  little 
of  a  force  requifite  for  that  purpofe,  is  as  real  a  miracle, 
though  not  fo  fenfible  with  regard  to  us. 

NOTE  [LJ,  p.  133. 

A  HIS  book  was  writ  by  Monf.  Montgeron,  counfellor 
or  judge  of  the  parliament  of  Paris,  a  man  of  figure  and 
character,  who  was  alfo  a  martyr  to  the  caufe,  and  is  now 
faid  to  be  fomewhere  in  a  dungeon  on  account  of  his  book. 
There  is  another  book  in  three  volumes  called  Recucil 
d(s  Miracki  de  V Abbe  Paris)  giving  an  account  of  many  of 
thefe  miracles,  and  accompanied  with  prefatory  difcourfes, 
which  are  very  well  written.    There  runs,  however,  through 

the 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  481 

the  whole  of  thefe  a  ridiculous  comparifon  between  the 
jniraclcs  of  our  Saviour  and  thofe  of  the  Abbe  ;  wlierein 
it  is  afTerted,  tliat  the  evidence  for  the  latter  is  equal  to 
that  for  the  former :  As  if  the  teflimony  of  men  could 
ever  be  put  in  the  balance  with  that  of  God  hiaiiclf, 
who  conducted  the  pen  of  the  im'pired  writers.  If  Jicfe 
■writers,  indeed,  were  to  be  confidered  merely  as  human 
teflimony,  the  French  author  is  very  moderate  in  his 
comparifon  ;  fince  he  might,  with  fome  appearance  of  rea- 
fon,  pretend,  that  the  Janfcnifl:  miracles  much  lurpafs  the 
other  in  evidence  and  authority.  The  following  circum- 
ftaaces  are  drawn  from  authentic  papers,  inferred  in  the 
above-mentioned  book. 

Many  of  the  miracles  of  Abbe  Paris  were  proved  imme- 
diately by  witueiies  before  the  ofliciality  or  bilhop's  court  at 
Paris,  under  the  eye  of  cardinal  Noailles,  whofe  character 
for  integrity  and  capacity  was  never  contelled  even  by  his 
enemies. 

His  fucceflbr  in  the  archbifhopric  was  an  enemy  to  the 
Janfenifls,  and  for  that  reafon  promoted  to  the  fee  by  the 
court.  Yet  22  rectors  or  cures,  of  Paris,  with  infinite  earn- 
eftnefs,  prefs  him  to  examine  thofe  miracles,  which  they 
aflert  to  be  known  to  the  whole  world,  and  undifputably 
certain  :  But  he  wifely  forbore. 

The  Molinift  party  had  tried  to  difcredit  thefe  mira- 
cles in  one  inftance,  that  of  Mademoifelle  le  Franc. 
But,  befides  that  their  proceedings  were  in  many  re- 
lpe6ts  the  mod  irregular  in  the  world,  pariicularly  in  cit- 
ing only  a  few  of  the  Janfenill  -witneffes,  whom  they 
tampered  with :  Befides  this,  I  fay,  they  foon  found 
themfelves  overwhelmed  by  a  cloud  of  new  witneffes, 
one  hundred  and  twenty  in  number,  moft  of  them 
perfons  of  credit  and  fubflance  in  Paris,  who  gave  oath 
for  the  miracle.  This  was  accompanied  with  a  folemn 
and  earnelt  appeal  to  the  parliament.  But  the  parlia- 
ment were  forbidden  by  authority  to  meddle  in  the  af- 
fair. It  was  at  iaft  obferved,  that  where  men  are  heated 
by  zeal  and  enthufiafm,  there  is  no  degree  of  human 
teflimony  fo  ftrong  as  may  not  be  procured  for  the 
greatefl  abfurdity  :  And  thofe  who  w^U  be  fo  filly  as  to 
examine  the  affair  by  that  medium,  and  feek  particular 
Vol.  II.  I  i  flaws 


482  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

flaws  in  the  teflimony,  are  ahnoll  fare  to  be  confounded.  It 
muftbe  a  miferabJe  impoflure,  indeed,  that  does  not  prevail 
in  thatconielh 

All  who  have  been  in  France  about  that  time  have 
heard  of  the  reputation  of  Monf.  Heraut,  the  lieutenant 
de  Police^  whofe  vigilance,  penetration,  activity,  and  ex- 
teniive  intelligence  have  been  much  talked  of.  This 
magiftrate,  who  by  the  nature  of  his  olace  is  almoft 
abfolute,  was  vefted  with  full  powers,  on  purpofe  to 
fupprefs  or  difcredit  thefe  miracles ;  and  he  frequently 
feized  immediately,  and  examined  the  witneiTes  and  fubjecSls 
of  them :  But  never  could  leach  any  thing  fatisfaCtory  a- 
gainft  them. 

In  the  cafe  of  Mademoifelle  Thibaut  he  fent  the 
famous  De  Sylva  to  examine  her ;  whofe  evidence  is 
very  curious.  The  phyfician  declares,  that  it  was  im- 
poflible  ihe  could  have  been  fo  ill  as  was  proved  by 
witnelTes  ;  becaufe  it  was  impoflible  <]ie  could,  in  fo 
Ihort  a  time,  have  recovered  fo  perfeitly  as  he  found 
her.  He  reafoned,  like  a  man  of  fenfe,  from  natural 
caufes  ;  but  the  oppolite  party  told  him,  that  the  whole 
was  a  miracle,  and  that  his  evidence  was  the  very  bell  proof 
of  it. 

The  Molinifts  were  in  a  fad  dilemma.  They  durfl 
not  affert  the  abfolute  infufficiency  of  human  evidence, 
to  prove  a  miracle.  They  were  obliged  to  fay,  that 
thefe  miracles  were  wrought  by  witchcraft  and  the  devil. 
But  they  were  told,  that  this  was  the  relource  of  the  Jews 
of  old. 

No  Janfenifl:  Was  ever  embarrafled  to  account  for  the 
cefiation  of  the  miracles,  v.hen  the  church-yard  was  fliut 
up  by  the  king's  cdid .  It  was  the  touch  of  the  tomb, 
which  produced  thefe  extraordinary  effects ;  and  wiien 
no  one  could  approach  th.c  tomb,  no  effcits  could  be 
cxpecled.  God,  indeed,  could  have  thrown  down  the 
walls  in  a  moment ;  but  he  is  mafter  of  his  own  graces 
and  works,  and  it  belongs  not  to  us  to  account  tor 
them.  He  did  not  throw  down  the  walls  of  every  city 
like  thofe  of  Jericho,  on  the  founding  of  the  rams  horns, 
nor  break  up  the  prifon  of  every  apoftle,  like  that  ot 
St.  Paul. 

No 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  483 

No  lefs  a  man,  than  the  Due  de  Chatillon,  a  duke  and 
peer  of  France,  of  the  highed  rank  and  family,  gives  evi- 
dence of  a  miraculous  cure,  performed  upon  a  fervant  of 
his,  who  had  hved  feveral  years  in  his  houfe  with  a  vifible 
and  palpable  infirmity. 

I  ihall  conckide  with  obferving,  that  no  clergy  are  more 
celebrated  for  ftridtnefs  of  life  and  manners  than  the  fecular 
clergy  of  France,  particularly  the  rectors  or  cures  of  Paris, 
who  bear  teftimony  to  thefe  impoftures. 

The  learning,  genius,  and  probity  of  the  gentlemen, 
and  the  aufterity  of  the  nuns  of  Port-Royal,  have  been 
much  celebrated  all  over  Europe.  Yet  they  all  give 
evidence  for  a  miracle,  wrought  on  the  niece  of  the 
famous  Pafcal,  whofe  fzntihy  of  life,  as  well  as  extra- 
ordinary capacity,  is  well  known.  The  famous  Racine 
gives  an  account  of  this  miracle  in  his  famous  hiftory 
of  Port-Royal,  and  fortifies  it  with  all  the  proofs,  which 
a  multitude  of  nuns,  priefts,  phyficians,  and  men  of 
the  world,  all  of  them  of  undoubted  credit,  could  be- 
ftow  upon  it.  Several  men  of  letters,  particularly  the 
biOiop  of  Tournay,  thought  this  miracle  fo  certain,  as  to 
employ  it  in  the  refutation  of  atheifts  and  free-thinkers. 
The  queen-regent  of  France,  who  was  extremely  pre- 
judiced againll  the  Port-Royal,  fent  her  own  phyfician 
to  examine  the  miracle,  who  returned  an  abfolute  con- 
vert. In  fhort,  the  fupernatural  cure  was  fo  uncontefta- 
ble,  that  it  faved,  for  a  time,  that  famous  monaftery  from 
the  ruin  with  which  it  was  threatened  by  the  Jefuits. 
Had  it  been  a  cheat,  it  had  certainly  been  detected  by 
fuch  fagacious  and  powerful  antagonifts,  and  muft  have 
haftened  the  ruin  of  the  contrivers.  Our  divines,  who 
can  build  up  a  formidable  caftle  from  fuch  defpicable 
materials  ;  what  a  prodigious  fabric  could  they  have  reared 
from  thefe  and  many  other  circumftances,  which  I  have 
not  mentioned  !  How  often  would  the  great  names  of 
Pafcal,  Racine,  Arnaud,  Nicole,  have  relbunded  in  our 
ears  ?  But  if  they  be  wife,  they  had  better  adopt  the 
miracle,  as  being  more  worth,  a  thoufand  times,  than 
all  the  reft  of  the  collection.  Befides,  it  may  ferve  very 
much  to  their  purpofe.  For  that  miracle  was  really  per- 
formed by  the  touch    of  an    autlientic    holy  prickle  of 

I  i  2  the 


484  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

the  holy  thorn,   which  compofed  the  holy  crown,  which. 


NOTE   [M],  p.  155. 


I 


N  general,  it  may,  I  think,  be  eftablifhed  as  a  maxim, 
that  where  any  caufe  is  known  only  by  its  particular 
effe6ts,  it  muft  be  impoffible  to  infer  any  new  efFefts 
from  that  caufe;  fince  the  qualities,  which  are  requifite 
to  produce  thefe  new  efFeils  along  with  the  former,  muft 
either  be  different,  or  fuperior,  or  of  more  extenfive  ope- 
ration, than  thofe  which  fimply  produce  the  effect:, 
whence  alone  the  caufe  is  fuppofed  to  be  known  to  us. 
We  can  never,  therefore,  have  any  reafon  to  fuppofe  the 
exiftence  of  thefe  qualities.  To  fay,  that  the  new  effefts 
proceed  only  from  a  continuation  of  the  fame  energy, 
which  is  already  known  from  the  firll  effeils,  will  not 
remove  the  difficulty.  For  even  granting  this  to  be  the  cafe 
(which  can  feldom  be  fuppofed),  the  very  continuation  and 
exertion  of  a  like  energy  (for  it  is  impoffible  it  can  be  abfo- 
lutely  the  fame),  I  fay,  this  exertion  of  a  like  energy,  in  a 
different  period  of  fpace  and  time,  is  a  very  arbitrary  fup- 
pofition,  and  what  there  cannot  poffibly  be  any  traces  of 
in  the  effects,  from  which  all  our  knowledge  of  the  caufe 
is  originally  derived.  Let  the  inferred  caufe  be  exactly 
proportioned  (as  it  fliould  be  to  the  known  effect;  and 
it  is  impoffible  that  it  can  poffefs  any  qualities,  from  which 
new  or  different  effedls  can  be  inferred. 


NOTE  [N],  p.  16^. 

L  HIS  argument  is  drawn  from  Dr.  Berkley;  and  in- 
deed moft  of  the  writiiigs  of  that  very  ingenious  author 
form  the  bell:  lelfoas  of  Iccpticilm,  which  are  to  be  found 
either  among  the  ancient  or  modern  philofoplicrs,  Bayle 
not  excepted.  He  profeffes,  however,  in  his  title-page 
(and  undoubted'y  with  g  eat  truth)  to  have  compofed  his 
book  agaiull  the  fceptics  as  weH  as  againft  the  atheifls 
and  free-thinkers.  But  that  all  his  arguments,  though 
othevvvife  intended,  are,  in  reality,  merely  fceptical,  ap- 
pears from  this,  that  they  admit  of  no  anfwcr  and  produce  no 

conviilion. 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  4S5 

convinion.  Their  only  effe6l  is  to  caufe  that  momentary 
amazement  and  irrefolution  and  coafufion,  which  is  the  rc- 
fuJt  of  fcepticilhi. 


NOTE  [OJ,  p.  166. 


w, 


HATEVER  difputes  there  may  be  about  mathema- 
tical points,  we  mufl:  allow  that  there  are  phyfical  points ; 
that  is,  parts  of  extenfion,  which  cannot  be  divided  or  leflen- 
ed,  cither  by  the  eye  or  imagination.  Thcfe  images,  then, 
which  are  prefent  to  the  fancy  or  fenfes,  are  abfolutely  indi- 
vifible,  and  confequently  mufl:  be  allowed  by  mathematicians 
to  be  infinitely  lefs  than  any  real  part  of  extenfion  ;  and  yet 
nothing  appears  more  certain  to  reafon,  than  that  an  infinite 
number  of  them  compofes  an  infinite  extenfion.  How 
much  more  an  infinite  number  of  thofe  infinitely  fmall  parts 
of  extenfion,  which  are  fi:ill  fuppofed  infinitely  divifible. 


NOTE  [P],  p.  168. 


XT  fcems  to  me  not  impoffible  to  avoid  thefe  abfurdities 
and  contradictions,  if  it  be  admitted,  that  there  is  no  fucli 
thing  as  abftra^t  or  general  ideas,  properly  fpeaking  j  but 
that  all  general  ideas  are,  in  reality,  particular  ones,  attach- 
ed to  a  general  term,  which  recalls,  upon  occafion,  other 
particular  ones,  that  refemble.  in  certain  circumllances,  the 
idea,  prelent  to  the  mind.  Thus  when  the  term  Horfe  is 
pronounced,  we  immediately  figure  to  ourfelves  the  idea  of 
a  black  or  a  white  animal,  of  a  particular  fize  or  figure :  But 
as  that  term  is  alfo  ufually  applied  to  animals  of  other  co- 
lours, figures  and  fizes,  thefe  ideas,  though  not  actually 
prefent  to  the  imagination,  are  eafily  recalled ;  and  our 
reafoning  and  conclufion  proceed  in  the  fame  way,  as  if  they 
were  actually  prefent.  If  this  be  admitted  (as  feems  rea- 
fonable)  it  follows  that  all  the  ideas  of  quantity,  upon  which 
mathematicians  reafon,  are  nothing  but  particular,  and  fuch 
as  are  fuggefted  by  the  fenfes  and  imagination,  and  confe- 
quently, cannot  be  infinitely  divifible.  It  is  fuificient  to 
have  dropped  this  hint  at  prefent,  without  profecuting  it 
any  farther.     It  catainly  concerns  all  lovers  of  fcience  not 

to 


486  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

to  expofe  themfelves  to  the  ridicule  and  contempt  of  the 
ignorant  by  their  conclufions  ;  and  this  feems  the  readieft 
folution  of  thefe  difficulties. 


NOTE  [Q_],  p.  174. 

X  HAT  impious  maxim  of  the  ancient  philofophy,  Ex 
nihilo^  nihil  fit ^  by  which  the  creation  of  matter  was  ex- 
cluded, ceafes  to  be  a  maxim,  according  to  this  philofophy. 
Not  only  the"*  will  of  the  fupreme  Being  may  create  mat- 
ter; but,  for  aught  we  know  a  priori^  the  will  of  any  other 
being  might  create  it,  or  any  other  caufe,  that  the  moft  whini- 
lical  imagination  can  affign. 

NOTE  [R],  p.  ,93. 

T 

■A  HAT  property  is  a  fpecies  of  relation^  which  pro- 
duces a  connexion  between  the  perfon  and  the  objedt  is 
evident :  The  imagination  paffes  naturally  and  eafily  from 
the  confideration  of  a  field  to  that  of  the  perfon  to  whom  it 
belongs.  It  may  alfo  be  afked,  how  this  relation  is  refolva- 
ble  into  any  of  thofe  three,  viz.  canjation^  contiguity^  and 
refemblance,  which  we  have  affirmed  to  be  the  only  conne6t- 
ing  principles  among  ideas.  To  be  the  proprietor  of  any 
thing  is  to  be  the  fole  perfon,  who,  by  the  laws  of  fociety> 
has  a  right  to  difpofe  of  it,  and  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  it. 
This  right  has  at  leaft  a  tendency  to  procure  the  perfon  fhe 
exercife  of  it;  and  in  fa6l  does  commonly  procure  him  that 
advantage.  For  rights  which  had  no  influence,  and  never 
took  place,  would  be  no  rights  at  all.  Now  a  perfon  who 
difpofes  of  an  objedf,  and  reaps  benefit  from  it,  both  pro- 
duces, or  may  produce,  effedts  en  it,  and  is  affeded  by  it. 
Property  therefore  is  a  fpecies  of  caufation.  It  enables  the 
perfon  to  produce  alterations  on  the  objecf,  and  it  fuppofes 
that  his  condition  is  improved  and  altered  by  it.  It  is  in- 
deed the  relation  the  moft  interefting  of  any,  and  occurs 
the  moft  frequently  to  the  mind. 

NOTE 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  487 

NOTE  [SJ,  p.  238. 


T, 


HIS  fidion  of  a  ftate  of  nature,  as  a  ftate  of  war,  was 
not  tirll  ftarted  by  Mr.  Hobbes,  as  is  commonly  imagined. 
Plato  endeavours  to  refute  an  hypothelis  very  like  it  in  the 
2d,  3d,  and  4th  books  de  republica.  Cicero,  on  the  contrary, 
fupjjofes  it  certain  and  univcrfally  acknowledged  in  the  fol- 
low ing  paffage.  "  Quis  enim  vcftrum,  judices,  ignorat,  ita 
"  n.turam  rcrum  tulifl'e,  ut  quodam  tempore  homines, 
"  nondum  neque  naturali,  ixeque  civili  jure  defcripto,  full 
*'  per  agros,  ac  difperfi  vagarentur  tantumque  haberent 
"  quantum  manu  ac  viribus,  per  czedcni  ac  vulnera,  aut 
*'  eripcre,  aut  retinere  potuiiTent?  Qiii  igitur  primi  virtute 
"  &  confilio  pr2;ftanti  extiterunt,  ii  perfpe6to  genere  huma- 
**  nae  docilltatis  atque  ingenii,  ditlipatos,  unum  in  locum 
'*  congrcgarunt,  eoAjue  ex  feritate  ilia  ad  juftitiam  ac  man- 
"  fuetudinem  tranfduxerunt.  7\nn  res  ad  communem 
"  utilitatem,  quas  publicas  appellamus,  tum  conventicula 
*'  hominum,  qu^e  poltea  civitates  nominatae  funt,  tum  do- 
"  micilia  conjuncla,  quas  urbes  dicamus,  invento  &  divino 
**  &  humano  jure,  moenibus  fepferunt.  Atque  inter  hanc 
*'  vitam,  perpolitam  humaniiate,  cc  illam  immanem,  nihil 
*'  tarn  interefl  quam  JUS  atque  VIS.  Horum  u  ro  uti 
"  nolimus,  altero  eft  utendum.  Vim  volumus  extingui  ? 
"  Jus  valeat  necefTe  ell,  id  eft,  judicia,  quibus  omne  jus 
''  continetur.  judicia  difplicent,  aut  nulla,  funt  ?  Vis  do- 
*'  minetur  necefTe  eft?-  Ha^c  vident  omnes."  Pro.  Sext. 
1.42. 

NOTE  [TJ,  p.  245. 

X  H  E  autlvor  of  UEfpirt  dcs  Lo'ix.  This  illuftrious 
writer,  however,  fets  out  with  a  different  theory,  and  fup- 
pofes  all  right  to  be  founded  on  certain  rapports  or  relations ; 
which  is  a  fyftem,  that,  in  my  opinion,  never  will  be  recon- 
ciled with  true  philolbphy.  Father  Malebranche,  as  far  as 
I  can  learn,  was  the  iirft  that  iiarted  this  abftracl  theory 
of  morals,  which  was  afterwards  adopted  by  Cudworth, 
Clarke,  and  others  ;  and  as  it  excludes  all  fentimeut,  and 
pretends  to  found  every  thing  on  reafon,  it  has  not  wanted 

followers 


488  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

followers  in  this  philofophic  age.  See  Section  I.  Appen- 
dix I.  With  regard  to  juilice,  the  virtue  here  treated  of, 
the  inference  againll  this  theory  feems  ihort  and  conckidvc. 
I'ropcrty  is  allowed  to  be  dependent  on  civil  law  s ;  Civil  laws 
are  allowed  to  have  no  other  objedt,  but  the  interefl:  of  fo- 
ciety  ;  Ihis  therefore  muft  be  allowed  to  be  the  fole  foun- 
dation of  property  and  jurlice.  Not  to  mention,  that  our 
obligation  itfelf  to  obey  the  rnagidrate  and  his  laws  is  founded 
on  nothing  but  the  iniereflb  of  fociety. 

li  the  ideas  of  juftice,  ronenmes,  do  not  follow  the  dif- 
poiitions  of  civil  law  ;  we  (hall  tind,  that  thefe  cafes,  in- 
Itead  of  objeftions,  are  confirmations  of  the  theory  delivered 
above.  Where  a  civil  law  is  fo  perverie  as  to  crofs  all  the 
interefts  of  fociety,  it  lofes  all  its  authority,  and  men  judge 
by  the  ideas  of  natural  juftice,  which  are  conformable  to 
thofe  interefts.  Sometimes  alfo  civil  lavvs,  for  ufeful  pur- 
poles,  require  a  ceremony  or  form  to  any  deed;  and  where 
that  is  wanting,  their  decrees  run  contrary  to  the  ufual 
tenour  of  juftice  j  but  one  who  takes  advantage  of  fuch 
chicanes,  is  not  commonly  regarded  as  an  honefl  man. 
Thus,  the  interefts  of  fociety  require,  that  contradls  be  ful- 
filled j  and  there  is  not  a  more  m.aterial  article  either  of 
natural  or  civil  juftice :  But  the  omiifion  ot  a  trifling  cir- 
cumftance  will  often,  bylaw,  invalidate  a  contract,  hi  for  0 
humana^  but  not  in  foro  confcientia,  as  divines  exprefs  them- 
fehes.  In  thefe  cafes,  the  magiftrate  is  fuppofed  only  to 
withdraw  his  power  of  enforcing  the  right,  not  to  have  al- 
tered the  right.  Where  his  intention  extends  to  t4ie  right, 
and  is  conformable  to  the  interefts  of  fociety  ;  it  never  fails 
to  alter  the  right ;  a  clear  proof  of  the  origin  of  juftice  and 
of  property,  as  affigned  above. 


NOTE  [U],  p.  247 


/• 


I 


T  is  evident,  that  the  will  or  confent  alone  never  transfers 
property,  nor  caufcs  the  obligation  of  a  promife,  (for  the 
fame  rcafoning  extends  to  both)  but  the  will  mvdl  be  exprefi 
fed  by  words  or  figns,  in  order  to  impofc  a  tye  upon  any  man. 
The  exprelhon  being  once  brought  in  as  iubfervient  to  the 

will, 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  489 

will,  foon  becomes  the  principal  part  of  the  promife; 
nor  will  a  man  be  lets  bound  by  his  word,  though  he 
fecretly  give  a  different  dire£lion  to  his  intention,  and 
with-hold  the  allent  or  his  mind.  But  though  the  c\- 
preifion  makes,  on  moft  occalions,  the  whole  of  tlv:  pro- 
mife, yet  it  does  not  always  fo  ;  and  one  who  fliould 
make  ufe  of  any  expreilion,  of  which  he  knows  not  the 
meaning,  and  which  he  ufes  without  any  fenfe  of  the 
coniequences,  would  not  certainly  be  bound  by  it.  Nay, 
though  he  know  its  meaning,  yet  if  he  ufe  it  in  jell 
only,  and  with  fuch  llgns  as  evidently  Ihow,  that  he 
has  no  ferious  mtcntion  of  binding  himfelf,  he  would 
not  lie  under  any  obligation  of  performance ;  but  it  is 
neceflary,  that  the  words  be  a  perfeel  exprelfion  of  the 
will,  wihout  any  contrary  figns.  Nay,  even  this  we 
mufl  not  carry  fo  far  as  to  imagine,  that  one,  whom, 
by  our  quicknefs  of  underftanding,  we  conje«£ture,  from 
certain  figns,  to  have  an  intention  of  deceiving  us,  is 
not  bound  by  his  expreflion  or  verbal  promife,  if  we 
accept  of  it;  but  muft  limit  this  conclufion  to  thofe 
cafes  where  the  figns  are  of  a  different  nature  from 
thofe  of  deceit.  All  thefe  contradidions  are  ealily  ac- 
counted for,  if  juftice  arife  entirely  from  its  ufefulnefs 
to  focietyj  but  will  never  be  explained  on  any  other 
hypothefis. 

it  is  remarkable,  that  the  moral  decifions  of  the 
yefuits  and  other  relaxed  cafuifts,  were  commonly  for- 
med in  profecution  of  fome  fuch  fubtilties  of  reaioning 
as  are  here  pointed  out,  and  proceed  as  much  from  the 
habit  of  fcholaflic  refinement  as  from  any  corruption  of 
the  heart,  if  we  may  follow  the  authority  of  Monf. 
Bayle.  See  his  Dictionary,  article  Loyola.  And  why 
has  the  indignation  of  mankind  rifen  fo  high  againft 
thefe  cafuilts;  but  becaufe  every  one  perceived,  that 
human  fociety  could  not  fubfift  were  fuch  practices  au- 
thorized, and  that  morals  mull  always  be  handled 
with  a  view  to  public  intereft,  more  than  philofophi- 
cal  regularity  ?  If  the  fecret  direction  of  the  intention, 
faid  every  man  of  fenfe,  could  invalidate  a  contrafl ; 
where  is  our  fecurity  ?  And  yet  a  mecaphyfical  fchool- 
man  might  think,  that,  where  an  intention  was  fup- 
pofed   to  be  requifite,     if  that  intention    really  had   not 

place. 


49°  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

place,  no  confequence  ought  to  follow,  and  no  obliga- 
tion be  impofed.  The  cafuiftical  fubtiltiei  nr.ay  not  be 
greater  than  the  fubtilties  of  lawyers,  hinted  at  above; 
but  as  the  foimer  are  pcrtiicious,  and  the  latter  iwwcent 
and  even  neceffrry^  this  is  the  reafon  of  the  very  differ- 
ent reception  they  meet  with  from  the  world. 

It  is  a  do(9:rine  of  the  church  of  Rome,  that  the 
prieft,  by  a  fecret  direction  of  his  intention,  can  in- 
validate any  facrament.  This  pofition  is  derived  from 
a  ftridl  and  regular  profecution  of  the  obvious  truth, 
that  empty  words  alone,  without  any  meaning  or  in- 
tention in  the  fi  eaker,  can  never  be  attended  with  any 
effect.  If  the  fame  conclufion  be  not  admitted  in  rea- 
fonings  concerning  civil  contracts,  where  the  affair  is 
allowed  to  be  of  fo  much  lefs  confequence  than  the 
eternal  falvation  of  thoufands,  it  proceeds  entirely  from 
men's  fenfe  of  the  danger  and  inconvenience  of  the 
do6trine  in  the  former  cafe  :  And  we  may  thence  ob- 
ferve,  that  however  pofitive,  arrogant,  and  dogmatical 
any  fuperftition  may  appear,  it  never  can  convey  any 
thorough  perfuafion  of  the  reality  of  its  objects,  or 
put  them,  in  any  degree,  on  a  balance  with  the 
common  incidents  of  life,  which  we  learn  from  daily 
obfervation  and  experimental  reafoning. 


NOTE  [X],  p.  255. 

\.  HE  only  folution,  which  Plato  gives  to  all  the  ob- 
jections that  might  be  raifed  againll  the  community  of  wo- 
men, eftablilhed  in  his  imaginary  commonwealth,  is  Ksaais-* 

J'Otp  (Jn    TiiTO  XttI   Aflirai    Kti   ASAS^JXai,   OT(TOyU?l'  0)^';X\U->t   KCUXOY-     To 

Js  BaaS^Pov  aicr-^pov  Scite  enhn  ijiudl~  d'lcttur  &'  dketur.  Id 
quod  utile  fit  honejlmn  ejje^  qucd  aiitcm  inutile  fit  turpe  ejfe. 
De.  Rep.  lib.  v.  p.  457.  ex  edit,  Ser.  And  this  max- 
im will  admit  of  no  doubt,  where  public  utility  is  con- 
cerned; which  is  Plato's  meaning.  And  indeed  to  what 
other  purpofe  do  all  the  ideas  of  chaftity  and  modefty 
ferve  ?  Nfi  utile  efl  quod  facimus,.  frujlr  a  efl  gloria,  fays 
Phasdrus.  Kkaov  twi  (iActS  pwv  ^Jsi-  fays  Plutarch  de  vitiofo 
pudore.  Nihil  eorum  quae  damnofa  funt,  pulchrum  eft. 
The  fame   was   the   opinion   of    the   Stoics.     C'.^ctiv  cv  ot 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  491 

2Ta'()iri(  aya^oY  nyai  O'CtihtiAr  m  ajt  erepctv  <uf?A5ittS',  c^ff-sxciv  far 
A'>f»rfj-  TH>  apsTid  xaj  Til)  cnra^ot(*y -sTfct^jK.  Sept.  Emp.  lib; 
iii.  cap.  20. 

NOTE  [YJ,  p.  259. 

JL  HAT  the  lighter  machine  yield  to  the  heavier, 
and,  in  machines  of  the  fame  kind,  that  the  empty  yield 
to  the  loaded;  this  rule  is  founded  on  convenience. 
That  thofe  who  are  going  to  the  capital  take  place  of 
thofe  who  are  coming  from  it  j  this  feems  to  be  found- 
ed on  fome  idea  of  the  dignity  of  the  great  city,  and 
of  the  preference  of  the  future  to  the  paft.  From  like 
reafons,  among  foot-walkers,  the  right-hand  intitles  a 
man  to  the  wall,  and  prevents  jollling,  which  peaceable 
people  find  very  dilagreeable  and  inconvenient. 


NOTE    [Z],  p.  262. 


w, 


E  ought  not  to  imagine,  becaufe  an  inanimate  ob- 
je£l  may  be  ufeful  as  well  as  a  man,  that  therefore  it 
ought  alfo,  according  to  this  fyftem,  to  merit  the  ap- 
pellation of  virtuous.  The  fentiments,  excited  by  utili- 
ty, are,  in  the  two  cafes,  very  different;  and  the  one  is 
mixed  with  affection,  efteem,  approbation,  t^fc.  and  not  the 
other.  In  like  manner,  an  inanimate  obje61:  may  have 
good  colour  and  proportions  as  well  as  a  human  figure. 
But  can  we  ever  be  in  love  with  the  former  ?  There 
are  a  numerous  fet  of  paflions  and  fentiments,  of  which 
thinking  rational  beings  are,  by  the  original  conftitution 
of  nature,  the  only  proper  objedfs  :  And  though  the 
very  fame  qualities  be  transferred  to  an  infenfible,  in- 
animate being,  they  will  not  excite  the  fame  fentiments. 
The  beneficial  qualities  of  herbs  and  minerals  are,  in- 
deed, fometimes  called  their  virtues-,  but  this  is  an 
effect  of  the  caprice  of  language,  which  ought  not  to 
be  regarded  in  reafoning.  For  though  there  be  a  fpecies 
of  approbation  attending  even  inanimate  objeiSls,  when 
beneficial,  yet  this  fentiment  is  fo  weak,  and  fo  differ- 
ent from  that  which  is  directed  to  beneficent  magifirates 
or  flatefmen;  that  they  ought  not  to  be  ranked  under 
the  fame  clafs  or  appellation. 

A  very 


49^  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

A  very  fmall  variation  of  the  obje6l,  even  where  the 
fame  quahties  are  preferved,  will  deilroy  a  fentiment. 
Thus,  the  fame  beauty,  transferred  to'  a  different  fex, 
excites  no  amorous  paflion,  where  nature  is  not  ex- 
tremely perverted. 


u 


NOTE  [AAJ,  p.  264. 


NDUTIFULNESS    to    parents    is   difapproved    of 

by  mankind,     'zzrpoopcu^^ya?  to  ^.^aaox,   ^   (JVXXoyi'(^oi^i)i*?   oTj    TO 

ijrapccTAMtriov  £xaroj?ctyT«riv  rru^xLipn^ii.  Ingratitude  for  a  like 
reafon  (though  he  feems  there  to  mix  a  more  generous 
regard)  crt;vrtj'a,v*XT8vl«.?  /wsv  TO)  TTSActf,  a.\a,Y=.f<>y]rf.s  S'  ^tt'  aumc 
TO  iscLfaLTTMaiov  it,ci>v  v^royiyvilci  TtSinoiO.  -crttpExo.s'w  xa  xct9M)to//o©' 

^vvctinia;  K)  ^icvfin.^.  Lib.  vi.  cap.  4.  Perhaps  the  hiftorian 
only  meant,  that  our  fympathy  and  humanity  was  more 
enlivened,  by  our  considering  the  fimilarity  of  our  cafe 
with  that  of  the  perfon  fuffering;  which  is  a  juft  fen- 
timent. 


I 


NOTE  [BB],  p.  268. 


NOTE   [CCJ,   p.  273. 


T  is  needlefs  to  pufh  our  refearches  fo  far  as  to  afk, 
why  we  have  humanity  or  a  fellow-feeling  with  others. 
It  is  fufficient,  that  this  is  experienced  to  be  a  principle 
in  human  nature.  We  muft  ftop  fomewhere  in  our 
examination  of  caufes;     and  there  are,    in  every  fcience,  ' 

fome  general  principles,   beyond  which  we   cannot  hope  i 

to  find   any  principle   more  general.      No  man  is  abfo-  j 

lutely  indifferent  to  the  happinefs  and  mifery  of  others. 
The  firft  has  a  natural  tendency  to  give  pleafure ;  the 
fecond,    pain.      This  every    one   may    find   in    himfelf.  ,' 

It  is   not  probable,    that  thefe  principles  can  be  refolv-  j 

ed   into  principles  more   fimple    and  univerfal,    whatever  ' 

attempts  may  have  been  made  to  that  purpofe.  But  if 
it  were  poffible,  it  belongs  not  to  the  prefent  fubjecl; 
and  we  may  here  fafely  confider  thefe  principles  as  ori- 
ginal :  Happy,  if  we  can  render  all  the  confcquences 
fufficiently  plain  and   perfpicuous  ! 


T 

AN    proportion  to  the    ftation   which   a    man   poffeffes,  J 

according  to   the  relations  in  which  he  is  placed;    we  al-  * 

ways  expecl  from  him  a  greater  or  Icfs  degree  of  good,  ' 

3                                                                       and  < 

i 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  493 

and  when  difappointed,  blame  his  inutility ;  and  much 
more  do  we  blame  him,  if  any  ill  or  prejudice  arife 
from  liis  conduct  and  behaviour.  When  the  interefts 
of  one  country  interfere  with  thofe  of  another,  we  ef- 
timate  the  merits  of  a  ftatefman  by  the  good  or  ill, 
■which  refults  to  his  own  country  from  his  meafures 
and  councils,  without  regard  to  the  prejudice  which  he 
brings  on  its  enemies  and  rivals.  His  fellow-citizens 
are  the  objeds,  which  lie  neareft  the  eye,  while  we 
determine  his  charaftcr.  And  as  nature  has  implanted 
in  every  one  a  fuperior  affection  to  his  own  country, 
we  never  expeifl  any  regard  to  diftant  nations,  where 
a  competition  arifes.  Not  to  mention,  that,  while 
every  man  confuks  the  good  of  his  own  community, 
we  are  fenlible,  that  the  general  intereft  of  mankind  is 
better  promoted,  than  by  any  loofe  indeterminate  views 
to  the  good  of  a  fpecles,  whence  no  beneficial  aftion 
could  ever  refult,  for  want  of  a  duly  hmited  object,  on 
which  they  could  exert  themfelves. 

NOTE  [DD],  p.  276. 

J?  O  R  a  like  reafon,  the  tendencies  of  adlions  and 
characters,  not  their  real  accidental  confequences,  are 
alone  regarded  in  our  moral  determinations  or  general 
judgments  J  though  in  our  real  feeling  or  fentiment, 
■we  cannot  help  paying  greater  regard  to  one  whofe  Na- 
tion, joined  to  virtue,  renders  him  really  ufeful  to  fo- 
ciety,  than  to  one,  who  exerts  the  focial  virtues  only 
in  good  intentions  and  benevolent  afFeftions.  Separating 
the  character  from  the  fortune,  by  an  eafy  and  necef- 
fary  effort  of  thought,  we  pronounce  thefe  perfons 
alike,  and  give  .them  the  fame  general  praife.  The 
judgment  corre(5ts  or  endeavours  to  correct  the  appear- 
ance :  But  is  not  able  entirely  to  prevail  over  fenti- 
ment. 

Why  is  this  peach-tree  faid  to  be  better  than  that 
other ;  but  becaufe  it  produces  more  or  better  fruit  ? 
And  would  not  the  fame  praife  be  given  it,  though 
fnails  or  vermin  had  deftroyed  the  peaches,  before  they 
came  to  full  maturity  ?  In  morals  too,  is  not  the  tree 
known  by  the  fruit  f  And  cannot  we  eafily  diftinguifh 
between  nature  and  accident,  in  the  one  cafe  as  well  as 
in  the  other? 

NOTE 


494  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 


I 


NOTE  [EEJ,  p.  278. 


T  is  wifely  ordained  by  nature,  that  private  connex- 
ions fhould  commonly  prevail  over  univerfal  views  and 
confiderations ;  otherwiie  our  affections  and  aclions  would 
be  diflipated  and  loft,  for  want  of  a  proper  limited  ob- 
ject:. Thus  a  fmall  benefit  done  to  ourfelves,  or  our 
near  friends,  excites  more  lively  fentiments  of  love  and 
approbation  than  a  great  benefit  done  to  a  diflant  com- 
monwealth :  But  ftill  we  know  here,  as  in  all  the  fen- 
fes,  to  correal  thefe  inequalities  by  reflection,  and  re- 
tain a  general  flandard  of  vice  and  virtue,  founded  chiefly 
on  general  ufefulnefs. 


O: 


NOTE  [FFJ,  p.  282. 


NE  may  venture  to  affirm,  that  there  is  no  human 
creature,  to  whom  the  appearance  of  happinefs  (where 
envy  or  revenge  has  no  place)  does  not  give  pleafure, 
that  of  mifery,  uneafinefs.  This  feems  infeparable  from 
our  make  and  conflitution.  But  they  are  only  the  more 
generous  minds,  that  are  thence  prompted  to  feek  zeal- 
oufly  the  good  of  others,  and  to  have  a  real  palTion 
for  their  welfare.  With  men  of  narrow  and  ungenerous 
fpirits,  this  fympathy  goes  not  beyond  a  flight  feeling 
of  the  imagination,  which  ferves  only  to  excite  fenti- 
ments of  complacency  or  cenfure,  and  makes  them  ap- 
ply to  the  object  either  honourable  or  difhonourable  ap- 
pellations, A  griping  mifer,  for  inftnnce,  praifes  ex- 
tremely indujiry  and  frugality  even  in  others,  and  fets 
them,  in  his  efliimation,  above  all  the  other  virtues. 
He  knows  the  good  that  refults  from  them,  and  feels 
that  fpecies  of  happinefs  with  a  more  lively  fympathy, 
than  any  other  you  could  reprefent  to  him ;  though 
perhaps  he  would  not  part  with  a  fhilling  to  make  the 
fortune  of  the  induflrious  man,  whom  he  praifes  fo 
highly. 


D, 


NOTE  [GGJ,  p.  293. 


^lODORUS  SICULUS,  lib.  xv  It  may  not  be 
improper  to  give  the  character  of  Epaminondas,  as  drawn 
by  the  hiftorian,  in  order  to  fliow  the  ideas  of  perfc6l 
merit,    which  prevailed  in  thofc  ages.     In  other   illuflri- 

ous 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume:  495 

ous  men,  fays  he,  you  will  ohfcrve,  that  each  pofT- 
efTed  fome  one  (hining  quality,  which  was  tlie  founda- 
rion  of  his  fame:  In  Epaminondas  all  the  virtues  are 
found  united;  force  of  body,  eloquence  of  expreifion, 
vigour  of  mind,  contempt  of  riches,  gentlenefs  of  dif- 
pofition,  and  what  it  chlejiy  to  be  regarded,  courage  and 
condudt  in  war. 


A> 


NOTE  [HH],  p.  294. 


.LL  men  are  equally  liable  to  pain  and  difeafe  and 
iicknefs;  and  may  again  recover  health  and  eafe.  Thefe 
circumftances,  as  they  make  no  dirtintlion  between  one 
man  and  other,  are  no  fource  of  pride  or  humility, 
regard  or  contempt.  But  comparing  our  own  fpecies 
to  fuperior  ones,  it  is  a  very  mortifying  confideration, 
that  we  Ihould  all  be  fo  liable  to  difeafes  and  infirmi- 
ties j  and  divines  accordingly  employ  this  topic,  in  or- 
der to  deprefs  felf-conceit  and  vanity.  They  would 
have  more  fuccefs,  if  the  common  bent  of  our  thoughts 
were  not  perpetually  turned  to  compare  ourfelves  with 
others.  The  infirmities  of  old  age  are  mortifying;  be- 
caufe  a  companion  with  the  young  may  take  place. 
The  king's  evil  is  induftrioully  concealed,  becaufe  it 
affe6ts  others,  and  is  often  tranfmitted  to  pofterity. 
The  cafe  is  nearly  the  fame  with  fuch  difeafes  as  con- 
vey any  naufeous  or  frightful  images;  the  epilepfy,  for 
inflance,    ulcers,    fores,    fcabs,    &c. 


T, 


NOTE  [II],  p.  296. 


HERE  is  fomething  extraordinary,  and  feemingly 
unaccountable  in  the  operation  of  our  pafTions,  when 
we  confider  the  fortune  and  fituation  of  others.  Very 
often  another's  adv~ancement  and  profperity  produces 
envy,  which  has  a  flrong  mixture  of  hatred,  and  arifes 
chiefly  from  the  comparifon  of  ourfelves  with  the  per- 
fon.  At  tiie  very  fame  time,  or  at  leaft  in  very  fhort 
intervals,  we  may  feel  the  pallion  of  refpeif,  which 
is  a  fpecies  of  aiiedtion  or  good-will,  with  a  mixture 
of  humility.  On  the  other  hand,  the  misfortunes  of 
our  fellowi;  often  caufe  pity,  whic'n  has  in  it  a  Itrong 
mixture  of  good- will.     This  feiitunent  of  pity  is  neri/ly 

allied 


40  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

allied  to  contempt,  which  is  a  Ipecies  of  diflike,  with 
a  mixture  of  pride.  I  only  point  out  the  phenomena, 
as  a  fubjecl  of  fpeculation  to  fuch  as  are  curious  with 
regard  to  moral  enquiries.  It  is  fufficient  for  the  prefent 
purpofe  to  obferve  in  general,  that  power  and  riches 
commonly  caufe  refpe£t,  poverty  and  meannefs  contempt, 
though  particular  views  and  incidents  may  fometimes 
raife  the  paffions  of  envy  and  of  pity, 

NOTE    [KK],  p.  300. 

np 

A  HERE  is  no  man,  who,  on  particular  occafions, 
is  not  affedted  with  all  the  difagreeable  paJions,  fear, 
anger,  dejection,  grief,  melancholy,  anxiety,  &c.  But 
thefe,  fo  far  as  they  are  natural,  and  univerfal,  make 
no  difference  between  one  man  and  another,  and  can 
never  be  the  objedt  of  blame.  It  is  only  when  the  dif- 
polition  gives  a  propenfity  to  any  of  thefe  difagreeable 
paiTions,  that  they  disfigure  the  character,  and  by  giving 
ui  i.ir.^^fs,  convey  the  fentiment  of  difapprobation  to  the 
fpectator. 


NOTE  [LL],  p.  32. 


T 


ACIT.  hift.  lib.  iii.  The  author  entering  upon  the 
narration,  fays,  Lunicta  vejie,  fcedum  fpeSiaculum  duce- 
iatur,  multis  Increfaniibus^  tnillo  inlacr'imante :  aeformitas 
exitus  mifericordiam  abftulerat.  To  enter  thoroughly 
into  this  method  of  thinl  ing,  v,e  mufl:  make  allowance 
for  the  ancient  maxims,  that  no  one  ought  to  prol  ng 
his  life  after  it  became  difhonourable  ;  but,  as  he  had 
always  a  right  to  difpofe  of  it,  it  tlien  became  a  duty 
to  part  with  it. 

NOTE  [MM],  p.  303. 

JL  H  E  abfence  of  virtue  may  often  be  a  vice ;  and  that 
of  the  higheft  kind  ;  as  in  the  inftance  of  ingratitude,  as 
well  as  meannefs.  Where  we  expect  a  beauty,  the  difap- 
pointmcnt  gives  an  uneafy  fenfation,  and  produces  a  real  de- 
formity.    An  abjednefs  of  charader,  likewife,  is  difgultful 

and 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  497 

and  contemptible  in  another  view.  Wlicre  a  man  has  no 
Icnfe  of  v.Uue  in  himfelf,  we  are  not  likely  to  have  an;  higher 
erteemofhim.  And  if  the  fame  perfon,  who  ciouche -  to 
his  fuperiors,  is  infolent  to  his  inferiors  (as  often  Iiappeus), 
this  contrariety  of  behaviour,  inflead  of  correctinj  the  for- 
mer vice,  aa;2;ravates  it  extremely  by  the  addition  of  a  vice 
llill  more  odious.     See  fe6l.  8. 


NOTE  [NN],  p.  326. 

-It  feems  certain,  both  from  reafon  and  experience,  that 
a  rude,  untaught  favnge  regulates  chiefly  his  love  md  hatred 
by  the  ideas  of  private  utility  and  injury,  and  has  but 
faint  conceptions  of  a  general  rule  or  fyftem  of  beha- 
viour. The  man  who  flands  oppofite  to  him  in  battle, 
he  hates  heartily,  not  only  for  the  prefent  moment,  which 
is  almofl:  unavoidable,  but  for  ever  after  j  nor  is  he  fatif- 
fied  without  the  moft  extreme  punifliment  and  vengeance. 
But  we,  accuilomed  to  fociety,  and  to  more  enlarged  re- 
fleiffions,  confider,  that  this  man  is  ferving  lii^  own  coun- 
try and  community ;  that  any  man,  in  the  fame  fituation, 
woul '.  do  the  fame;  that  we  ourfelves,  in  like  ciicumftan- 
ces,  obferve  a  like  conduft  ;  that,  in  general,  human  lociety 
is  befl:  fupported  on  fuch  maxims :  And  by  thefe  fuppofi- 
tior.s  and  views,  we  correct,  in  fome  meafure,  our  ruder 
and  narrower  paflions.  And  though  much  of  our  friend- 
fliip  and  enmity  be  ftill  regulated  by  private  confiderations 
of  benefit  and  harm,  we  pay,  at  leaft,  this  homage  to  ge- 
neral rules,  which  we  are  accufiiomed  to  refpeil,  that  we 
commonly  pers'ert  our  adverfary's  conduit,  by  imputing 
malice  or  injuftice  to  him,  in  order  to  give  vent  to  thofe 
pafTions,  which  arife  from  felf-love  and  private  intereft. 
When  the  heart  is  full  of  rage,  it  never  wants  pretences  of 
this  nature  ;  though  fometimes  as  frivolous,  as  thofe  Ironi 
Avhich  Horace,  being  almoil  cruihed  by  the  fall  of  a  tree, 
affefls  to  accufe  of  parricide  the  firft  planter  of  it. 

Vol.  IT.  Kk  NOTE 


498  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume 

N  O  T  E  [O    ],  p.  352. 


•Eneyolence  naturally  divides  into  two  kinds,  tii*? 
general  and  the  particular.  The  fvrfl:  is,  wiierc  we  have 
no  friendfhip  or  connexion  or  efteem  for  the  perfon,  bat 
feel  only  a  general  fymp  ithy  with  him  or  a  compalTion  for 
his  pains,  and  a  congratulation  with  his  pleafures.  The 
other  fpecies  of  benevolence  is  founded  on  an  opinion  of 
virtue,  on  fervices  done  us,  or  on  fome  particular  con- 
nexions. Both  thefe  fentiments  muft  be  allowed  real  in 
human  nature;  but  whether  they  will  refolve  into  fome  nice 
cohfiderations  of  felf-love,  is  a  queftion  more  curious  tliaa 
important.  The  former  fentiment,  to  wit,  that  of  general 
benevolence,  or  humanity,  or  fympathy,  we  Ihall  have  oc- 
caiion  frequently  to  treat  of  in  the  courfe  of  this  enquiry  ; 
and  I  aflume  it  as  real,  from  genera;l  experience,  without 
any  other  proof. 

N  O  T  E  [PP],  p.  361. 

T     . 

J-  H  IS  theory  concerning  the  origin  of  property,  and  con- 
fequently  of  juftice,  is,  in  the  main,  the  fame  with  that 
hinted  at  and  adopted  by  Grotius.  "  Hinc  difcimus,  qux' 
*'  fuerit  caufa,  ob  quam  a  primsva  communione  rerum  pri- 
"  mo  mobilium,  deinde  &  immobilium  difceffum  eft  :  ni- 
"  mirum  quod  cum  non  contenti  homines  vcfci  fpon'e  natis, 
"  antra  habitare,  corpore  aut  nudo  agere,  aut  corticibus  ar- 
*'  borum  feiarumvc  pcllibus  vellito,  vitas  genus  exquifitus 
"  dclcgilTent,  induftria  opus  fuit,  quam  hnguli  rebus  fin- 
*'  gulis  adhibercnt  :  Qiio  minus  autem  fru'itus  in  commune 
*'  confcrrentur,  prirnum  obftitit  locorum,  in  quae  homines 
*'  difceflerunt,  diAantia,  d'^inde  juftitix*  &:  amoris  defei5tus, 
*'  per  qucm  fiebat,  ut  nee  in  labore,  nee  in  confumptione, 
*'  fru6luum,  qua:;  dcbebat,  a;qua!itas  fervaretur.  Simul  dif- 
*'  cimus,  quomodo  res  in  pioprietalem  ivcrint  ;  non  animi 
'^'  a(f.tu  folo,  neque  enim  fcire  alii  poterant,  quid  alii  fuuni 
*'  elTc  vellent,  ut  co  abllincrent,  &  idem  velie  plures  pote- 
"  rant ;  fed  padlo  quodam  aut  cxpreflb,  ut  per  divillonem, 
"  aut  tacito,  ut  per  occupationcm."  Dejure  belli  5:  pacis. 
I-lb.  ii.  cap.  2.  §  2.  art.  4,  h  5. 

N  O  T  E 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  499 

NOTE  [QOJ,  p.  36r. 


K 


ATUPv  AL  may  be  oppofed,  either  to  what  is  unrr- 
fuaU  miraculous^  or  artificial.  In  tlie  two  former  feiifes, 
jurtice  and  property  are  undoubtedly  natural.  But  as  tlicy 
luppoic  realbn,  forethought,  deiign,  and  a  fecial  union  and 
confederacy  among  men,  perhaps,  that  epithet  cannot  ftri6l- 
ly,  in  the  lall  fenl'e,  be  appHed  to  them.  Had  men  lived 
without  fociety,  property  had  never  been  known,  and  nei- 
ther juflice  nor  injuftice  had  ever  exifted.  But  fociety 
among  human  creatures,  had  been  impoITible,  without 
reafoii,  and  forethought.  Inferior  animals,  that  unite,  are 
guided  by  inftinct,  which  fupplies  the  place  of  reafon.  But 
all  thcfe  difputes  arc  merely  verbal. 

NOTE  [RRJ,  p.  363. 

X  H  A  T  there  be  a  feparation  or  diftinclion  of  poflVf- 
fions,  and  that  this  feparation  be  fteady  and  conftant ;  this 
is  abfolutely  required  by  the  interefts  of  fociety,  and  hence 
the  origin  of  juftice  and  property.  What  pofTeffions  are 
a/figned  to  particular  perfons  j  this  is,  generally  fpeaking, 
pretty  indifferent ;  and  is-often  detcmined  by  very  frivolous 
views  and  confiderations.  "We  Ihall  mention  a  few  parti- 
cular^. 

Were  a  fociety  formed  among  feveral  independent  mem- 
bers, the  moft  obvious  rule,  which  could  be  agreed  on, 
would  be  to  annex  property  to  prefcnt  pofl'elTion,  and  leave 
every  one  a  right  to  what  he  at  prefent  enjoys.  The  rela- 
tion of  poffelFion,  which  takes  place  between  the  perfon  and 
the  object,  naturally  draws  on  the  relation  of  propert)'. 

For  a  like  realbn,  occupaticn  or  tirft  polTeinon  becomes 
the  foundation  of  property. 

Where  a  man  bellows  labour  and  induflry  upon  any  ob- 
jeift,  which  before  belonged  to  no  body  ;  as  in  cutting  down 
and  fliaping  a  tree,  in  cultivating  a  field,  &c.  the  alterations, 
which  he  produces,  caufes  a  relation  between  him  and  the 
objedl,  and  naturally  engages  us  to  annex  it  to  him  by  the 
new  relation  of  property.  "I'his  caufe  here  concurs  with  the 
K  k  2  public 


500  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

public  utility,  which  confifts  in  the  encouragement  given  tb- 
induflry  and  labour. 

Perhaps  too,  private  humanity,  towards  the  poflellbr,. 
concurs,  in  this  inftance,,  with  the  other  motives,  and- 
engages  us  to  leave  witli  him  what  he  has  acquired  by 
his  fweat  and  labour ;  and  what  he  has  flattered  himfelfi 
ia  the  conftant  enjoyment  of.  For  though  private  hu- 
manity can,  by  no  means,  be  the  origin  of  juftice  ;  fmce 
the  latter  virtue  fo  often  contradicts  the  former  ;  yet  wher\ 
the  rule  of  feparate  and  conftant  pofieifion  is  once  form- 
ed by  the  indifpenfable  ncceflities  of  fociety,  private  huma- 
nity, and  an  averfion  to  the  doing  a  hardfhip  to  another^ 
may,  in  a  particular  inftance,  give  rife  to  a  particular  rule  of 
property. 

I  am  much  inclined  to  think,  that  the  right  of  fucceftion. 
or  inheritance  much  depends  on  thofe  connexions  of  the 
imagination,  and  that  the  relation  to  a  former  proprietor 
begetting  a  relation  to  the  object,  is  the  caufe  why  the  pro- 
perty is  transferred  to  a  man  after  the  death  of  his  kinfman, 
It  is  true  ;  indufcry  is  more  encouraged  by  the  transference 
of  pofleftion  to  children  or  near  relations  :  But  this  confi- 
deration  will  only  have  place  in  a  cultivated  fociety  ;  whereash 
tlie  right  of  fucceflion  is  regarded  even  amons;  the  o-reateft 
Barbarians. 

Acquiiitioii  of  property  by  nccejfioji  can  be  explained  no 
way  but  by  having  recourfe  to  the  relations  and  connexions, 
of  the  imagination. 

The  property  of  rivers,  by  the  laws  of  moft  nations, 
and  by  the  natural  turn  of  our  thought,  is  attributed 
to  the  proprietors  of  their  banks,  excepting  fuch  vaft 
rivers  as  tlie  Rhine  or  tne  Danube,  which  fecm  too  large 
to  follow  as  an  accclfion  to  the  property  of  the  neigh- 
bouring fields.  Yet  even  thefc  rivers  are  conndered  as  the 
property  of  that  nation,  through  whofe  dominions  they 
run;  the  idea  of  a  nation  being  of  a  fuitable  bulk  to  cor- 
refpond  with  them,  and  bear  them  fuch  a  relation  in  the: 
fancy. 

The  accelTions,  which  are  made  to  land,  bordering  uport 
rivers,  follow  the  land,  fay  the  civilians,  provided  it  be  made 
by  what  they  call  alluvion^  that  is,  infenlibly  and  imper- 
ceptibly ;  which  are  circumftances,  that  allilt  the  imagina- 
tion in  the  conjunctioi\. 

Where 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  501 

Where  rlu-re  is  any  confiderahle  portion  torn  at  once 
Jfrom  one  bank  and  added  to  another,  it  becomes  not  his 
^jroperty,  whole  land  it  falls  on,  till  it  unite  with  the 
land,  and  till  the  trees  and  plants  have  fpread  their  roots 
•into  both.  Before  tiiat,  the  thought  docs  not  fuffioiently 
join  theui. 

In  Ihort,  we  muft  ever  diftinguifh  between  the  neccfllty 
'of  a  feparation  and  conftancy  in  men's  pofTeflion,  and 
the  rules,  which  alhgn  particular  objects  to  particular  per- 
lons.  The  rirft  neceJlity  is  obvious,  lirong,  and  invincible : 
The  latter  may  depend  on  a  public  utility  more  light  and 
frivolous,  on  tlie  fentiment  of  private  humanity  and  aver- 
fion  to  private  hardlhip,  on  politive  laws,  on  precedents, 
•analogies,  and  very  hue  connexions  and  turns  of  the  ima- 
:gination. 


NOTE  [SSJ,  p.  37^. 


X  HE  term,  pride,  is  commonly  taken  in  a  bad  fenfe ;  but 
itliis  fentiment  feems  indifferent,  and  may  be  either  good  or 
bad,  according  as  it  is  well  or  ill  founded,  and  according  to 
.the  other  circumftances  which  accompany  it.  The  French 
'.exprefs  this  fentiment  by  the  term,  attiour  propre,  but  as  they 
alfo  exprefs  felf-love  as  well  as  vanity,  by  the  fame  term, 
.there  arifes  thence  a  gieat  confufion  in  Rochefoucault,  and 
many  of  their  moral  writers. 


NOTE  [TT],  p.  371. 

A^OVE  and  efteem  are  nearly  the  fame  pafTion,  and  arifc 
•from  fimilar  caufes.  The  qualities,  which  produce  both, 
are  fuch  as  communicate  pleafure.  But  where  this  pleafure 
is  fevere  and  ferious  ;  or  where  its  objcft  is  great,  and  makes 
a  itron^  imprelhon,  or  where  it  produces  anv  degree  of  hu- 
mility and  awe  :  In  all  thefe  cafes,  the  paffion,  which  arifes 
irom  the  pleafure,  is  more  properly  denominated  efteem  than 
■love  Benevolence  attends  both  :  But  is  conne6led  with 
.love  in  a  more  eminent  degree.  There  feems  to  be  ftill  a 
«(lrongcr  mixture  of  pride  in  contempt  than  of  humility  in 

efteemj 


502 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 


efteem  ;  and  the  reafon  would  not  be  difficult  to  one,  who 
lludied  accurately  the  paffions.  All  thefe  various  mixtures 
and  compolitions  and  appearance?  of  fentiment  form  a  very 
curious  fubjedl  of  fpeculation,  but  are  wide  of  our  prefent 
purpofc.  Throughout  this  enquiry,  we  always  conllder  in 
general,  what  qualities  are  a  fubject  of  praife  or  of  cenfure, 
without  entering  into  all  the  minute  differences  of  fcnti- 
ment,  which  they  excite.  It  is  evident,  that  whatever  is 
contemned,  is  alfo  diiliked,  as  well  as  what  is  hated  ;  and 
we  here  endeavour  to  take  objects,  according  to  their  moft 
fimple  views  and  appearances,  l^hefe  fciences  are  too 
3pt  to  appear  abftraft  to  common  readers,  even  with  all 
the  precautions  which  wc  can  take  to  clear  them  from 
fuperfluous  fpeculations,  and  bring  them  down  to  every 
capacity. 


N  O  T  E  [UUJ,  p.  371. 


X  HE  following  pafHige  of  Cicero  is  worth  quoting,  as 
being  the  mofl:  clear  and  exprefs  to  our  purpofc,  that  any 
thing  can  be  imagined,  and,  in  a  difpute,  v»hich  is  chiefly 
verbal,  muft,  on  account  of  the  author,  carry  an  authority, 
from  which  there  can  be  no  appeal. 

"  Virtus  autem,  quae  efl  per  fe  ipfa  laudabilis,  et  fine  qua 
*'  nihil  laudari  poteft,  tamen  habet  plures  partes,  quarum 
*'  alia  efl:  alia  ad  laudationem  aptior.  Sunt  enim  alis  vir- 
"  tutes,  quae  videntur  in  moribus  hominum,  et  quadam 
"  comitate  ac  beneficentia  pofitie:  alise  quas  in  ingenii  aliqua 
*'  facultate,  aut  animi  magnitudine  ac  robore.  Nam  cle- 
*'  mentia,  jufl:itia,  l;enignita:s,  fides,  fortitudn  in  periculis 
^'  communibus,  jucunda  efi  audita  in  laudationibus.  C)mnes 
*'  enim  ha;  virtutes  non  tarn  ipfis,  qui  eas  in  fc  habent,  quam 
*'  gencri  hominum  fruduofa;  putantur.  Sapientia  ct  mng- 
**  nitudo  animi,  qua  omncs  res  humanas,  tcni'cs  ct  pro 
*'  nihilo  putantur;  pt  in  cogitando  vis  qua?dam  ingenii,  ct 
**  ipfa  eloqiientia  admirationis  habet  non  minus,  jucundi- 
*'  tatis  minus.  Ipfos  eniin  magis  \idetur,  quos  laudamus, 
'*  quam  illos,  anud  quos  i.iudamus,  ornare  ac  tueri  :  fed 
'*  tamen  in  laudenda  jungenda  funt  etiam  ha-c  genera  vir- 
"  tutum.     Ferunt   enim   aurcs   hominum,  cum  ilia  qu-x 

"jucunda 


Notes  to  tlie  Second  Volume..  503 

^'  jucunda  ct  grata,  turn  ctiam  ilia,  quae  mirabilia  funr  iu 
"  virtute,  laudarL"  De  orat.  lib.  ii.  cap.  8g. 

I  fuppofe,  if  Cicero  were  now  alive,  it  would  be  found 
vlifficult  to  fetter  his  moral  fentiments  by  narrow  fyftems  j  or 
{lerfuade  him,  that  no  (}ualities  were  to  be  admitted  as  vir- 
tursy  or  acknowledged  to  be  a  part  of  perfonal  merits  but 
what  were  recommended  by  The  IFhole  Duty  of  Man. 


D. 


NOTE  [XX],  p.  394. 


URING  the  times  of  the  emperors,  the  Romans 
Jfeem  to  have  been  more  given  to  intrigues  and  gallantry 
han  the  Englifli  are  at  prefent :  And  the  women  of  condi- 
tion, in  order  to  retain  their  lovers,  endeavoured  to  rix  a 
mame  of  reproach  on  thofc  who  were  addicted  to  wtnching 
and  low  amours.  They  were  called  Ancillarioli.  See  Se- 
neca de  beneficiis.  Lib.  i.  cap.  9.  See  alfo  Martial^  lib„ 
xii.  epig.  58. 


NOTE  [YYJ,  p.  409. 


F. 


RAGILIS  &  laboriofa  mortalitas  in  partes  ifta  digef- 
**  lit,  infirmitatis  fu^e  memor,  ut  portioaibus  quifquis  co- 
*'  leret,  quo  maxime  indigeret."  Plin.  lib.  ii.  cap.  7.  So 
early  as  Hefiod's  time  there  were  30,00  deities.  Ope^r.  iff 
Dier.  lib.  i.  ver.  250.'  But  the  tafk  to  be  performed  by 
ithefe  feems  ftill  too  great  for  their  number.  The  provinces 
of  the  deities  were  fo  fubdivided,  that  there  v/as  even  a  god 
o^ Sneezing.  See  Arifi.  Probl.  fe6^.  33.  cap.  7.  The  pro- 
vince of  copulation,  fuitably  to  the  importance  and  dignity  of 
it,  v.'as  divided  among  fcveral  deities. 

NOTE  [ZZ],  p.  426. 

T  will  be  eafy  to  give  a  reafon,  why  Thales,  y^naxl- 
mander,  and  thofe  early  plulofophers,  who  really  were 
atheiils,  might  be  very  orthodox  in  the  pagan  creed ;  and 
why  Anaxagoras  and  Socrates,  though  real  theifts,  mull 
naturally,  in  ancient  times,  be  efteemed  impious.  The 
blind,  unguided  powers  of  nature,  if  they  could  produce 
men,  might  alfo  produce  fuch  beings  as  Jupiter  and  Nep- 
tune, 


504  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

tune,  who  being  the  moft  powerful,  intelHgent  exiftences  in 
the  world,  would  be  proper  obje6ts  of  wor(hip.  But  a  here 
a  fuprenie  iucelligence,  the  nril  caufe  of  all,  is  admitied, 
thcfe  capricious  b  :ings,  if  they  exift  at  all,  muft  appear  very 
iubordinare  and  dependent,  and  confequently  be  excluded 
from  the  rank  of  deities.  Plato  (de  [eg.  lib.  x.)  aJhgns  this 
reafun  for  the  imputation  thrown  on  Anaxagoras,  namely 
his  denying  the  divinity  of  the  liars,  planets,  and  other  cre- 
ated objects. 

NOTE  [AAA],  p.  436. 


E  R  R  I  U  S  Flaccus,  cited  by  Pliny,  lib.  xxviii.  cap.  2. 
affirmed,  that  11  was  ufual  with  the  Romans,  before  they 
laid  liege  to  any  town,  to  invocate  the  tutelar  deity  of  the 
place,  and  by  promiling  him  greater  honours  than  thoie  he 
at  prefent  enjoyed,  bribe  him  to  betray  his  old  friends  and 
votaries.  The  name  of  the  tutelar  deity  of  Rome  was  for 
this  reafon  kept  a  moft  religious  myftery ;  leil  the  enemies 
of  the  republic  fliould  be  able,  in  the  fame  manner,  to  draw 
him  over  10  their  fervice.  For  without  the  name,  they 
thought,  nothing  of  that  kind  could  be  pradifed.  Pliny 
fays,  that  the  common  form  of  invocation  was  prelerved  to 
his  time  in  the  ritual  of  the  pontifs.  And  Macrobius  has 
tranfmitted  a  copy  of  it  from  the  fecret  things  of  Sammoni- 
cus  Serenus. 

NOTE  [BBBJ,  p.  439. 


■  OST  nations  have  fallen  into  this  guilt  of  human 
facrifices  ;  though,  perhaps,  that  impious  fiiperftition  has 
never  prevailed  very  much  in  any  civili/,ed  nation,  unlefs  we 
except  the  Carthaginians.  For  the  Tyrians  loon  abolilhed 
it.  A  facrilice  is  conceived  as  a  prefent  ;  and  any  prefent  is 
delivered  to  their  deity  by  deltroying  it  and  rendering  it  ufe- 
lefs  to  men  ;  by  burning  what  is  folid,  pouring  out  the 
liquid,  and  killing  the  animate.  For  want  of  a  better  way 
of  doing  him  fervice,  we  do  ourfelves  an  injury  ;  and  fancy 
that  we  thereby  exprefs,  at  leall,  the  hcartniefs  of  our  good- 
will and  adoration.  Thus  our  mercenary  devotion  deceives 
ourfelves,  and  imainnes  it  deceives  the  deity. 

NOTE 


I 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  505 


NOTE  [CCC],  p.  447. 


T  is  ftrange  that  the  Egyptian  religion,  though  fo 
abfurd,  ihould  yet  have  borne  fo  great  a  refemblance 
to  the  Jewiih,  that  ancient  writers  even  of  the  greateft 
genius  were  not  able  to  obferve  any  difference  between 
them.  For  it  is  remarkable  that  both  Tacitus  aiid 
Suetonius,  when  they  mention  that  decree  of  the  fenate, 
under  Tiberius,  by  which  the  Egj'ptian  an<i  Jewifti 
profelytes  were  baniflied  from  Rome,  exprefsly  treat 
thefe  religions  iiS  the  lame^  and  it  appears,  that  even 
the  decree  itfelf  was  founded  on  that  fuppofition, 
<*  Adlum  &  de  facris  .gyptiis,  Judaicifque  p;,lendis; 
"  fa£tumque  patrum  confultum,  ut  quatuor  millia  iiber- 
*'  tini  generis  ca  fupirjiiiione  irife<5ta,  quis  idonea  cetas, 
«'  in  iniulam  Sardiiiiam  veherenLur,  coercendis  iilic 
*'  latrociniis;  &  fi  ob  graviratem  cceH  inreriflent,  vUe 
**  danmum :  Ceteri  cederent  Italia,  nifi  certam  ante  diem 
*'  profanos  litus  exuifTent."  Tacit,  ann.  lib.  ii.  c.  85. 
"  Externas  caeremonias,  JEgyptios,  Judaicofque  ritus 
*'  compefcuitj  coa£lus  qui  fupcrjlitione  ea  tenebantur, 
*'  religiofas  veftes  cum  inrtrumento  omni  comburere, 
"  &c."  Sueton.  Tiber,  c.  36.  Thefe  wife  heathens, 
obferving  fomething  in  the  general  air,  and  genius, 
and  fpirit  of  the  two  religions  to  be  the  fame,  efteem- 
ed  the  differences  of  their  dogmas  too  frivolous  to  de- 
fcrve  any  attention. 


Xi 


NOTE  [DDD],  p.  455. 


.ENOPHON's  condud,  as  related  by  himfelf,  is, 
at  once,  an  inconteftable  proof  of  the  general  credulity 
of  mankind  in  thofe  ages,  and  the  incoherencies,  \s\ 
all  ages,  of  men's  opinions  in  religious  matters.  Thai 
great  captain  and  philofopher,  the  diiciple  of  Socra^.s, 
and  one  who  has  delivered  fome  or  the  raoft  reilaed 
fentiments  with  regard  to  a  deity,  gave  all  the  followiug 
marks  of  vulgar,  pagan  fuperftidon.  By  Socrates  s  ad- 
vice, he  confultcd  the  oracle  of  Delphi,  before  he 
would  engage  in  the  expedition  of  Cyrus.  De  expcd. 
lib.  iii.  p.  294.  ex  edit.  Leancl.  Sees  a  dream  the  night 
after  the  generals   were  feized  ^     which  he  pays  great  re- 

'  gard 


5o6  Notes  to  the  Second  V'olume. 

gard  to,  but  thinks  ambiguous.  Id.  p.  295.  He  ami 
the  whole  army  regard  fneezing  as  a  very  lucky  omen. 
Id.  p.  300.  Has  another  dream,  when  he  comes  to 
the  river  Centrites,  which  his  fellow-general,  Chirofophus, 
alfo  pays  great  regard  to.  Id.  lib.  iv.  p.  323.  The 
Greeks,  fuffering  from  a  cold  north  wind,  facrifice  to 
it;  and  the  hiftorian  obferves,  that  it  immediately  aba- 
ted. Id.  p.  329.  Xenophon  confults  the  facrifices  in 
fecret,  before  he  would  form  any  refolution  with  him- 
felf  about  fettling  a  colony.  Lib.  v.  p.  359.  He  was 
himfelf  a  very  fkilful  aug\ir.  Id.  p.  361.  Is  determined 
by  the  vi6lims  to  refufe  the  fole  command  of  the  ar- 
my which  was  offered  him.  Lib.  vi.  p.  273.  Cleander, 
the  Spartan,  though  very  defirous  of  it,  refufes  it  for 
the  fame  reafon.  Id.  p.  392.  Xenophon  mentions  an 
old  dream  with  the  interpretation  given  him,  when  he 
firft  joined  Cyrus,  p.  373.  Mentions  alfo  the  place 
of  Hercules's  defcent  into  hell  as  believing  it,  and  fays 
the  marks  of  it  are  ftill  remaining.  Id.  p.  375.  Had 
almoit  ftarvcd  the  army,  rather  than  lead  them  to  the 
tield  againll  the  aufpiccs.  Id.  p.  382,  3S3.  His  friend, 
Euclides,  the  augur,  would  not  believe  that  he  had 
brought  no  money  from  the  expedition  ;  till  he  (Eu- 
clides) facrificed,  and  then  he  faw  the  matter  clearly  in 
the  Exta.  Lib.  vii.  p.  425.  The  fame  philofopher^ 
propofing  a  project  of  mines  for  the  encreafe  of  the 
Athenian  revenues,  advifes  them  firft  to  confult  the 
oracle.  De  rat.  red.  p.  392.  That  all  this  devotion 
was  not  a  farce,  in  order  to  ferve  a  political  purpofe, 
appears  both  from  the  fa£ts  tliemfelves,  and  from  the 
genius  of  that  age,  when  little  or  nothing  could  be 
gained  by  hypoci'ify.  Befides,  Xenophon,  as  appears 
from  his  Memorabilia,  was  a  kind  of  heretic  in  thofe 
times,  which  no  political  d'e^iotee  ever  is.  It  is  for 
the  fame  reafon,  I  maintain,  that  Newton,  Locke, 
Clarke,  &c.  being  Arians  or  SocinhniSy  were  very  lin- 
cere  in  the  creed  tliey  profelfed :  And  I  alw  a)  s  oppofe 
this  argument  to  fome  libertines,  who  will  needs  have 
it,  that  it  was  impofTible  but  that  thefe  philofophers 
muft  have  been  hypocrites. 


NOTE 


B 


Notes  to  the  Second  Volume.  507 

NOTE  [EEE],  p.  460. 


•  ACCHUS,  a  divine  being,  is  reprefented  by  the 
heathen  mythology  as  the  inventor  of  dancing  and  the 
tlieatrc.  Plays  were  anciently  even  a  part  of  public 
worlhip  on  the  moil  folemn  occafions,  and  often  em- 
ployed in  times  of  pellilence,  to  appeafe  the  offended 
deities.  But  they  liave  been  zealoully  profcribed  by  tlie 
godly  in  later  ages;  and  the  play-lioufe,  according  to 
a  learned  divine,    is  the  porch  of  hell. 

But  in  order  to  fliow  more  evidently,  that  it  is  pof- 
fible  for  a  religion  to  reprefent  the  divinity  in  ftill  a 
more  immoral  and  unamiable  light  than  he  was  pictu- 
red by  the  ancients,  we  fhall  cite  a  long  pafTage  from 
an  author  of  tafle  and  imagination,  who  was  furely  no 
enemy  to  Chriilianity.  It  is  the  Chevalier  Ramfay,  a 
writer,  who  had  fo  laudable  an  inclination  to  be  or- 
thodox, that  his  reafon  never  found  any  difficulty, 
even  in  the  dodlrines  which  free-thinkers  fcruple  the 
moft,  the  trinity,  incarnation,  and  fatisfaftion :  His 
humanity  alone,  of  which  he  feems  to  have  had  a  great 
flock,  rebelled  againfl:  the  doctrines  of  eternal  reproba- 
tion and  predeilination.  He  exprefies  himfelf  thus: 
'  What  flrange  ideas,'  fays  he,  '  would  an  Indian  or 
'  a    Chinefe   philofopher  have   of  our   holy    religion,     if 

*  they  judged  by  the  fchemes  given  of  it  by  our  modern 

*  free-thinkers,       and    pharifaical    doiSlors    of    all    fedls  ? 

*  According  to  the  odious  and  too  vulgar  fyflem  of 
'  thefe  incredulous  fcofFers  and  credulous  fcribblers, 
**  The  God  of  the  Jews  is  a  moll  cruel,  unjuft,  par- 
*'  tial,  and  fantaftical  being.  He  created,  about  6000 
'*  years  ago,  a  man  and  a  woman,  and  placed  them 
"ma  fine  garden  of  Afia,  of  which  there  are  no  re- 
*'  mains.  This  garden  was  furnifhed  with  all  forts  of 
"  trees,  fountains,  and  flowers.  He  allowed  them  the 
*'  ufe  of  all  the  fruits  of  this  beautiful  garden,  except 
"  one,  that  was  planted  in  the  midll  thereof,  and  that 
*'  had  in  it  a  fecret  virtue  of  preferving  them  in  con- 
*'  tinual  health  and  vigour  of  body  and  mind,  of  ex- 
*'  alting  their  natural  powers  and  making  them  wife. 
**  The  devil  entered  into  the  body  of  a  ferpent,  and 
*'  folicited  the  firft  woman  to  eat  of  this  forbidden 
"  fruit;  fhe  engaged  her  hulband  to  do  the  fame. 
*'  To  punilh  this  llight  curiofity  and  natural  defire  of 
*^  life   and    knowledge,    God    not    only    threw   our   firft 

*'  parents 


508  Notes  to  the  Second  Volume. 

"*  parents  out  of  paradife,    but  he  condemned   all  their 
**  pofterity    to    temporal    mifery,     and    the  greaieft   part 
*'  of  them  to   eternal   pains,    though  the  fouls    of  thefe 
**  innocent    children    have    no  more   relation   to   that    of 
*'  Adam  than  to   thofe  of  Nero   and   Mahomet;     fmce, 
*'  according    to    tlie    fcholaftic    drivellers,    fabulifts,    and 
"  mythologies,    all  fouls    are  created  pure,    and   infufed 
*'  immediately   into  mortal  bodies,    fo  foon  as  the  foetus 
"  is  formed.     To  accomphfh  the  barbarous,   partial  de- 
**  cree  of  predeftination  and  reprobation,    God  abandon- 
*''  icd   all    nations    to   darknefs,    idolatry,    and   fuperftiti- 
*'  on,    without   any   faving   knov^rledge    or   falutary    gra- 
*'  ces  ;     unlefs   it   was  one  particular   nation,    whom  he 
*'  chofe    as  "  his    peculiar    people.       This   chofen    nation 
*'  was,   however,    the  moft  llupid,    ungrateful,   rebellious 
*'  and  perfidious    of  all    nations.     After   God  had   thus 
*'  kept  tlie  far  greater  part   of   all   the   human  fpecies, 
"  during    near   4000  years,      in    a    reprobate   ftate,     he 
"  changed  ail  of  a  fudden,    and  took   a  fancy  for  other 
*^  nations  befide  the  Jews.     Tlien  he  fent  his  only  be- 
"  gotten    Son  to  the  world,    und-cr  a    human  form,    to 
*'  appeafe  his   wrath,    fatisfy    his    vindidive  juftice,    and 
*■'  die  for  the  pardon   of  fin.     Very  few   nations,    how- 
*'  ever,     have    heard    of  this   gofpel ;     and    all  the  reft, 
*'  though  left  in  invincible  ignorance,    are  damned  with- 
"  out  exception,    or    any  poifibility   of   reraifiion.     The 
*'  greatefi:  part    of  thofe    who    have    heard   of    it,     have 
"  changed    only  fome    fpeculative    notions    about    God, 
*'  and   fome   external  forms   in  worlhip:     For,    in  other 
"  refpedts,     the    bulk    of    Chrirtians   have  continued   as 
**  corrupt   as     the   reft    of    mankind     in   their     morals; 
"  yea,       fo    much    the     more    perverfe    and    criminal, 
"  that     their    lights    were    greater.       Unlefs    it     be     a 
**  very  fmall    it\Q.St    number,    all  other   Chriftians,    like 
*'  the  pagans,    will   be  for  ever  damned  ;     the  great  fa- 
'*  crifice   offered  up  for  them  will   become  void   and  of 
*'  no   effe6l ;     God   will   take  delight  for  ever,    in  their 
*'  torments  and   blafpliemies;     and  though    he    can,    by 
*'  one   f.ot    change   their    hearts,    yet    they  will    remain 
*'  for    ever   unconverted   and    unconvertible,    bccaufe   he 
*■'  will  be  for  ever   unappeafablc  and   irreconcileable.     It 
■^'  is   true,    that  all  this  makes    God  odious,    a  hater  of 
•"  fouls,    rather   than  a  lover  of    them ;     a   cruel,    vin- 

"  diclive 


Notes  to  the  Second  VoLtiME.  509 

*<  di£live  tyrant,  an  impotent  or  a  wrathful  daemon, 
*'  ratlicr  than  an  all-powerful,  beneficent  father  of 
*'  fpirits :  Yet  all  this  is  a  myftery.  He  has  fecret 
*'  reafons  for  his  condudt,  that  are  impenetrable ;  and 
*'  though  he  appears  unjuft  and  barbarous,  yet  we 
*'  mud  believe  the  contrary,  becaufe  what  is  injuftice, 
*'  crime,  cruelty,  and  the  blackell:  malice  in  us,  is  in 
*'  him  juftice,    mercy,    and  fovereign   goodnefs."     Thus 

*  the  incredulous  free  thinkers,  the  judaizing  Chriftians, 
'  and  the  fataliftic  do<Sors  iiave  disfigured  and  dilhonoured 

*  the  fublime   myrteries   of  our    holy   faith ;      thus    they 

*  have  confounded  the  nature  of  good  and  evil ;     trans- 

*  formed   the    moft    monftrous   pailions   into    divine    at- 

*  tributes,    and    furpaffed    the  pagans   in  blafphemy,    by 

*  afcribing    to  the  eternal  nature,    as  perfedtions,    what 

*  makes    the    moll    horrid    crimes    againft    men.       The 

*  groffer    pagans    contented    thenifelves    with    divinizing 

*  luft,     inceiil:,     and    adultery ;      but    the    predeftinarian 

*  dodtors  have  divinized  cruelty,  wrath,  fury,  vengeance, 

*  and  all  the  blackeft  vices.'  See  the  Chevalier  Ram- 
fay's  philofophical  principles  of  natural  and  revealed  re- 
ligion,   Part  11.  p.  401. 

The  fame  author  aflerts,  in  other  places,  that  the 
Arminiin  and  Molinijl  fchemes  ferve  very  little  to  mend 
the  matter :  And  having  thus  thrown  himfelf  out  of 
all  received  fects  of  Chrilfianity,  he  is  obliged  to  ad- 
vance a  fyftem  of  his  own,  which  is  a  kind  of  Origenifm^ 
and  fuppofes  the  pre-exiftence  of  the  fouls  both  of  men 
and  beads,  and  the  eternal  falvation  and  converfion  of 
all  men,  beads,  and  devils.  But  this  notion,  being 
quite  peculiar  to  himfelf,  we  need  not  treat  of.  I 
thought  the  opinions  of  this  ingenious  author  verv  curi- 
ous;    but  I  pretend  not  to  warrant  the  judneff  ;      '•em. 


\ 


C    511    ) 


INDEX. 

*^*  The  Numeral  Letters  refer  to  the  Volume,  and 
the  Figures  to  the  Page. 


A: 


A. 


.B  ATEMENT,  not  the  natural  Confequence  of  Poly- 

theifm,  ii.  440. 
Abflradtion,  what,  ii.  485,  Note  [PJ. 
Abfurdity,  not  always  the  greateft  in  Polytheifm,  ii.  442. 

,  greedily  coveted  by  popular  Religions,  ii.  443. 

Acheans,  employed  Force  in  forming  their  League,  i.  479. 

,  their  Number,  i.  449, 

Addifon  quoted,  i.  93.  207.  ii.  185. 

^fchynes  quoted,  i.  341.  445. 

^fchynes  Socraticus  quoted,  ii.  374. 

^tolians,  their  Number,  i.  449. 

Agathocles,  the  Tyrant,  his  Cruelty,  i.  425.  558,  A/i?/^[CC] 

Agreeablenefs,  a  Source -of  Merit,  ii.  299. 

,  to  Ourfelf,  ibid.  &c. 

,  to  Others,  ii.  311,  ^c. 

Agriculture,  how  befl  encouraged,  i.  276,277.  434,  435. 
Alcoran,  its  Ethics,  i.  243. 

Alexander  the  Impoftor  of  Lucian,  his  Artifice,  ii,  ia8. 
Alexander  the  Great,  his  Saying  to  Parmenio,  ii.  301. 

,  his  Toleration,   ii.  438. 

,  his  Emulation  of  Bacchus,  ii.  441. 

Alexandria,  its  Size  and  Numbers  of  its  Inhabitants,  i.  453. 
Allegiance,  its  Obligation,  whence,  i.  487.  ii.  253. 
Allegory  has  naturally  place  in  Polytheifm,  ii.  422. 
Anacreon  quoted,    ii.   390. 
Analogies,  and  fometimes  flight,  have  Influence  in  Jurifpru- 

dence,  ii.  244,  362. 
Anaxagoras,  the  firft  Theifl:,  and  the  firfl:  accufed  of  Atheifm, 

ii,  503,  N'oie  [ZZ]. 
Ancillarioli,  what,  ii.  503,  Note  [XX]. 
Angels,  modern,  equivalent  to  the  Deities  of  the  Philofo- 

phers,  ii.  421. 

Animals, 


512  INDEX. 

Animals,  their  Reafon j  ii.  in,  ^c. 

Antioch,  its  Size,  i.  453. 

Antipater,  the  Cyreniac,  his  Saying,  i.  188. 

Appian  Aiexandrinus  quoted,  i.  343.  393.  413.  41^.  422. 
425,  429.  440.  463.  ii.  382. 

Aruobius  quoted,  ii.  417.  4215. 

Aiiofto,  his  Chara£ler,  i.   246,  quoted,  94. 

Ariftides  the  Sophift  quoted,  1.  56?.,  Note  [KKJ. 

AriOocracy,  Polifli,  Venetian,  in  what  refpeds  different,  i* 
15,  16. 

Ariftophanes  not  impious  according  to  the  Ideas  of  Anti- 
quity, ii.  417. 

..-.  ,„„„ quoted,  i.  408. 

Anftorle  ;quoted,    i.  227.    408.    446.  456.    ii.    371.  503^ 

Note  [YY]. 
Armftroog,  Dr.  quoted,  ii^  370. 
Arri an  quoted,  i.   132,  369,  432.  ii..438.  441. 
Atheifm,  whether  poilibJe,  ii.   159. 
Athenaeus  quoted,  i.  443,  444»  446. 
Athens,  i.  99.  273.  341.  428    443,  444,  446.  478. 
Arhenians,  on  what  they  chiefly  valued  themfelves,  ii.  308. 
Athenian  Man  of  Merit,  ii.  377,  l^c. 
Auguftine  ( Saint- 'i  his  Dogmatifm,  ii.  449. 
Augudus,  hiS  Impiety  mixed  with  Superftition,  ii.  418. 
■  — ,  his  Superiiition,  ii.  450. 

,  his  Age  compared  with  thtt  of  Camillus,  i.  274. 

Aunoi,  Madame,  quoted,  i.   200. 

AureHus,  Marcus,  his  Theifm,  ii.  421.  his  Superfiition,  45c. 
Auftria,  Houfe  of,  Caufes  of  its  Decay,  i.  358. 
Authority  of  Teachers,  ufeful  to  check,  it,  i.  126. 


JLJACON,  quoted,  I.  56.  95.  223.  282.  ii.  138.  267.  427. 
Balance  of  Power,  i.  32.  353,  ^c. — Of  Irade,  i.  327,  ^c. 

— Of  Property,  i.  32,  47. 
Banks  and  Paper  Credit,  whether  advantageous,  i.  301.  336. 
Barbarit)'  an  Attribute  of  the  Deity  in  popular  Religions,  ii. 

465- 
Bartoli*s  Plans  of  ancient  Buildings,  i.  451. 
Bayle  quoted,  ii.  441.  484. 
Beauty,  why  the  objedt  of  Pride,  ii.  189. 
Belief,  what,  ii.  52,  ^c. 
Bellarmine,  Cardinal,  his  Siyinfii  l).   -141. 
Benevolence,  i.  89.  difihterefled  zeAl,ii.  349.  b'c.  its  kinds, 
3  351- 


INDEX.  513 

351.  a   Virtue,    222.    from   its    Utility,    225.    from  its 

Agret-ablenefs,  307. 
Berkeley,  Dr.  a  renl  Sceptic,  il.  484,  iV:/^  [N],  quoted,  i, 

223. 
Berne,  Canton  of,  its  Trcaliire,  i.  342. 
Benlivoglio  quoteil,  i.   225. 
Boccace  quoted,   i.   190. 
Boileau  quoted,  ii.  302. 
Bolingbroke  quoted,  i.  25.  44. 
Boulainvilliers  quoted,   i.  571.  ii.  43O. 
Brafidas,  his  Saying,  ii.  441. 
Erumoy,  Pere,  quoted,  ii.  417. 


C. 

/ESAR  quoted,  i.  419.  462.  463.  550,  Note   [K],  ii. 
416. 

his  Account  of  the  Numbers  llaughtered  in  his 


c 


Wars,  i.  560,  Note  [FF]. 

Cambyfes,  his  Extravagance,  ii.  444. 

Capitolinus  quoted,  i.  491. 

Caprice,  an  Attributcof  theDeity  in  popular  Religions, ii. 465. 

Carlille,  Earl  of,  quoted,  i.  13^. 

Cartes,  Des,  quoted,  i.  259.  ii.  475,  A^ote  [D]. 

Carthage,  its  Size  and  Number  of  its  Inhabitants,  i.  456. 

Carthaginians,  their  human  Sacrifices,  ii.  ^o^-^Note  [BBBJ, 

Catholics,  Roman,  Genius  of  their  Religion,  i.  80. 

— led  into  Abfurdities,  ii.  446. 

Cato  de  re  ruftica,  quoted,  i.  41 1, 

Cato  of  Utica,  his  Speech  to  Ccefar,  i.  289. 

Caufe  and  EfiFefl  its  Ideas,  whence,  ii.  28,  29,  ifc.  Its 
Definition,  82,  477,  Note  [G]. 

Caufes  moral,  how  far  they  contribute  to  national  Charac- 
ters, i.  213. 

Phyfical,  how  far,  i.   222. 

Ciufation,  a  Reafon  of  Alfociation,  ii.  24.  56,  ^c. 

Cavalier  Party,  i.  69. 

Cervantes,  his  Merit,  i.  207,  quoted,  250. 

Chance,  what,  ii.  61.     Its  Influence  in  Society,  i.  117. 

Charaflers,  national,  i.  213,  ^c. 

Charles,  XII,  of  Sweden,  his  Chara6ter,  ii.  308. 

Chaftity,  its  IMerit,  whence,  ii.  255. 

Cheerfulnefs,  its  IMerit,  whence,  ii.  299. 

China,  its  Excellence  and  Defecfs,  i.  126. 

Chriftian  Relitrion  founded  in  Faith,  not  in  Reafon,  ii.  138. 
Vol.  II.    "  LI  Cicero 


$H  I    N    D    E    X. 

Cicero  quofec',  i.  i8.  97.  102.  104.  106.  188.  364.  404 
424-  433-  442-  452.  465.  551,  Note  [O].  ii.  56.  223' 
227-.  371.  391.  448,  449.  456.  465. 

City,  Reafons  which  limit  the  Greatnefs  of  every  City,i.456. 

Cleanlinefs,  its  Merit,  whence,  ii.  517. 

Clergy,  why  no  Friends  to  Liberty,  i.  66. 

Cold,  greater  in  ancient  times,  i.  457,  458. 

Colonefi  and  Orfini,  Parties  in  modern  Rome,  i.   57. 

Columella  quoted,  i,  325.  403.  407,  412,  413.  460.  465. 
554,  Note  [T]. 

Comitia  centuriata  &  tributa,  their  different  Powers,  1.  392. 

Commerce,  its  Advantages,  i.  272.  foreign,  its  Advantages, 

279,  280. 
Commonwealth,  perfect.  Idea  of  it,  i.  523,  ^c^ 
Companionable  Qualities,  ii.  312,  ^c. 
ComparifonitsEffedl,  i.  84.  necelTary  to  forming  the  Tafl:e,2  54, 
Comte,  Pere  le,  quoted,  ii.  416. 
Conde,  Prince  of,  a  Saying  of  his,  i.  124. 
Confucius,  his  Difciples  Deifts,  i.  79. 
Congreve,  his  Character,  i.  209. 
Conjiln6tion  frequent,  conftant,  the  only  circumftance  from 

which  we  know  Caufe  and  Effe6i,  ii.  75.  79.  83.  ^c. 
Connexion  neceflary,  our  Idea  of  it,  ii.  65,  &c. 
Conftantine,  Emperor,  his  Innovation,  i.  366. 
Conftitution,  Britifh,  i.  25.  49,  &c. 
Contiguity,  a  Reafon  of  AflTociation,  ii.  24.  54, 
Contraft,  Original,  i.  471,  &:c. 

Conventions,  whether  the  Source  of  Juftice,  ii.  360,  drc. 
Convictions  ilrongefl,  but  not  more  general,  in  Theifm,  ii, 

444»  445- 

Corn  diftributed  In  Rome,  i.  451,  452. 

Corneille,  his  Chara6ter,  i.  209. 

Corpus  juris  civLlis  quoted,  i.  423.  556,  Note  [7L], 

Courage,  how  far  national^  i.  226. 

■  its  Merit,  whence,  ii.  303. 

Country  Party,  i.  27.  66,  67. 

Court  Party,  i.  27.  66,  67. 

Creation  or  Formation  of  the  World  enters  not  iiito  the  pri- 
mitive Religion,  ii.  421. 

Credit,  public,  its  Abufes,  i.  369,  370,  &c. 

Curtius,  Quintus,  quoted,  i.  228.  377.  565,  Note  [NN]. 
ii.  415.  425.  _  .        ..     o 

Cuftom  or  Habit  the  Source  of  experimental  Reafcning,  ii.  4S. 
■  ■■  ■  the  great  Guide  of  Life,  ii.  49. 

Cuftoms,  fome  remarkable  ones,  i.  387,  &:c. 

Cyrus  boafts  of  his  Drunkennefs,  i.  228.  DARIUS 


D 


1    N    D    E    X.  515 

D 


'ARIUS  I-Iyftafpcs  records  his  Ability  in  Drinking  on  his 

Tombftonc,  i.  228. 
Datames,  the  only  Barbarian  a  General,  i.  292. 
Decency,  its  Merit,  whence,  ii.  317. 
Debt,  public,  its  Advantages,  i.  372. 

■ itsDifadvantages,  i.  573,  374. 

J^eifts  united  with  the  Independents,  i.  80. 

Delicacy  oFPalFion,  how  hurttui,  i.  3,  &ic. 

of  Talle,  how  advantageous,  i,  3,  4,  5.  whatitis, 

249.  whence  its  Merit,  ii.  309. 
Democracy  without  a  Reprefentative,  hurtful,  i.  14,  15. 
Demofthenes  his  Charafter,  i.    109.  quoted,  i.   109.   341. 

354.  388.  3qo.  404.408.  418.432.  445.  559,  Note  [CCj. 

s6i,Note  [HHJ.  ii.  303- 393- 
Defire,  Averlion,  ii.  192. 
Diodorus  Siculus  his  Charafter,  i.  560,  Note  [EE]. 

■ Superftitious,  yet  not  a  Theift,  li.  419. 

Quoted,   i.   227.  274.  341.355.  419,420.  426. 

427.  429.  431,  432,  434.  438.  441.  443.  447.  449.  453. 

458.  463.   469.    542,   Note    [A].   543,   Note    [D].  568, 

Note  [QQJ}.  ii.  227.  414.  416.  419.  462.  465. 
Diogenes  Laertius  quoted,  i.  438.  ii.  425. 
Diiigenes,  the  Cynic,  his  Charatler,  ii.  396,  397. 
Dion  CafTius  quoted,  i.  324. 
Dionyfius  Halycarnaffseus  quoted,  i.  205.  549,  N'ote  [I].  429. 

45Q.  ii.  412.  421. 
Dionyfius  the  Tyrant,  his  Maflacres,  i.  426. 

his  Army,  i.  274.  441, 

Difcretion,  its  Merit,  whence,  ii.  306. 

Divifion  of  Property,  ufeful,  i.  420. 

Domeftic  Situation  of  Ancients  and  Moderns,  i.  401,  402. 

Dorians  and  lonians,  i.  226. 

Dryden  quoted,  i.  215.  ii.  448. 

Dubos,  Abbe,  quoted,  i.  232.  333.  457.  j^66. 


E> 


E 


-CLECTICS,  a  Sea,  i.  127. 
Egyptians,  why  perfecutors,  ii.  437. 
Egyptian  Religion,  a  DiiTicuhy  in  it,  ii.  449. 

— — —  and  Jewilli  refembling,  ii.  505,  A'c/f  [CCCJ, 

Eiizribeth,  Queen,  whether  her  Rcfurre^^ion  could  be  proved, 

ii.  137. 
Eloqucncfj  :.  loi,  <Scc. 

L  -1  a  Empires, 


5i6  INDEX. 

Empires,  great,  deftruclive,  i.  361. 

Energy,  its  Idea,  ii.  67,  68. 

Englifh,  their  national  Character,  whence,  i.  221. 

Enthufiafm,  defended  and  explained,  i,  75,  &c. 

Envy,  whence,  ii.  20O. 

Epaminondas,  his  Chara6ler,  ii,  494,  Note  [GG]. 

Epidetus,  his  Idea  of  Virtue,  ii.  372.  his  Superftition,  ii.  455. 

Epicurus,  his  Apology,  ii.  181,  &c. 

'  why  he  took  himfelf  to  Philofophy,  ii.  420. 

Edicurean,  i.  143. 

Ergafluia,  very  frequent  anciently,  i.  403. 

Euclid  treats  not  of  the  Beauty  of  the  Circle,  i.  178, 

Euripides  quoted,  ii.  413. 

Europe,  its  Advantages  from  its  Situation,  i.  127. 

Evidence,  natural  and  moral,  of  the  fame  Kind,  ii.  95. 

Exchange  helps  to  keep  the  Balance  of  Trade,  i.  331. 

Exchange,  difficult  to  know,  whether  for  or  againft  a  Natr- 
on, i.  327. 

Exiles  in  Greece,  how  numerous,  i.  426. 

Experience,  Source  of  ail  our  Rcafoning  with  regard  to  Fa8, 
ii.  30,  &:c. 

■  ■ why  wereafon  from  Experience,  ii.  36,  37.  93. 

often  the  fame  with  what  we  call  Reafon,  ii.  472, 

Note  [B]. 

Expofing  Children,  i.  415.  approved  by  Seneca,  ibid. 


Jl  act.  Matters  of,   one  Objea  of  Reafon,  ii.  27,28. 
Fa6tions,  violent  and  bloody,  among  the  Ancients,  i.  424. 
Fairies  modern,  equivalent  to  the  vulgarDeitics  of  Antiquity, 

ii.415. 
Fame,  why  defired,  ii.  191. 
Fenclon,  his  Ethics,  i.  242. 
Flattery,  its  Influence  in  Religion,  ii.  428. 
Florus  quoted,  i.  414. 

Plux  and  Reflux  of  '^I'heifm  r.nd  Polythcifm,  ii.  434,  «3iC. 
Fontaine,  la,  quoted,  ii.  394. 
Fonteneile,  Cenfurc  of  his  Paftorals,  i.  210. 
'      '  quotfd,  i.  6,  1S8.  233.  ii.  353.  41  7. 

French  Man  of  Merit,  ii.  296. 

iheir  firft  Qucrtion,  with  regard  to  a  ftrangcr,  ii.  3 1  2. 

Fregofi  and  Adorni,  Parties  of  Genoa,  i.  57. 
Frugality,  its  Merit,  whence,  ii.  285. 
FuTidins,  the  dangerous  Tendency  of,  i.  371. 

2  GALLANTRY 


INDEX.  517 


'ALLANTRY  of  Civility,  i.  135. 
ot  Intrigues,  ii.  394. 


Gamefters  and  Sailors  why  fuperftitious,  ii.  412, 

Gaul,  Numberof  its  Inhabitants,  i.  463. 

Gee,  Mr.  quoted,  i.  328. 

General  Rules,  their  Influence,  ii.   198.  255. 

Genoa,  its  Government  and  Bank,  i.  22. 

Geles  immortal,  their  Faith,  ii.  433. 

Golden  Age  not  fufceptible  of  Juflice,  ii.  237. 

Good  Senfe,  how  farefTential  to  Tafte,  i.  256. 

Gorgias  Leontinus,  his  Eloquence,  i.  543,  Note  [D]. 

Government,  Origin  of,  i.  35.  Perpetual  ftruggle  between 
Authority  and  Liberty  in  all  Governments,  38.  Violent 
Innovations  dangerous  to  Government,  483  Sometimes 
prove  happy  in  the  Iflue,  inftanced  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
VIII,  and  Charles  I.  484. 

Greece,  its  Advantages  from  its  Situation,  i.  127. 

its  whole  military  Force,  i.  450. 

r'         Numbers  of  its  Inhabitants,  i.  461, 
Grotius  quoted,  ii.  498,  Note  [PP]. 
Guelf  and  Ghibelline  Parties,  i.  58. 
Guicciardin  quoted,  i.  290.  ii.  373. 
GuftavusVaza,  i.  67. 

H. 

XIARDOUIN,  Pere,  quoted,  i.  563. 
Harrington,  his  Oceana,  cenfured,  i.  525. 

quoted,  i.  47.  95-. SM- 

Hcliogabalui^,   a  conic  Stone,  ii.  425, 

Henry  IV.  of  France,  his  Character,  ii.  308. 

— a  Saying  of  his,  i.  554,  Note  [S]. 

Henry  the  IVth  and  Vllth  of  England  their  Title,  1.  479. 

Helvetia,  its  Inhabitants,  i.  464. 

Hereditary  Right,  how  important,  i.   511. 

Herefy,  Appellation  reils  commonly  on  the  Side  of  Reafon  : 

Examples,  ii.  443. 
Hero-worfhip,  ii.  423. 

Herodian  quoted,  i,  453.  462.  489.  ii.  425. 
Herodotus  quoted,  i.432,  443.449.  ii.  304.  416.  433.  438. 

444.  459-  462. 
Hertha,  Goddefs  of  the  Saxons,  ii.  426. 
Hefiod,  not  a  Theift  properly  fpeaking,  ii.  418. 
■  ■  ■  ■         Inconfiftcncy  in  his  Theology,  ii.  431. 
— — 1 —  quoted,  i.  411.  ii.  418.  423.  431.  503,  Note  [YY]. 

Hiero, 


5i8  INDEX. 

Hiero,  King  of  Syracufe,  his  Policy,  i.  357. 
Hirtius  quoted,  {,425. 

Homer,  his  Chara.S:er,  i.  248.  his  Ethics,  i.  242.  ii.  304, 
Inconfiftency  of  his  Theology,  ii.  431.  quoted,  ii.  417. 

423-  431- 
Homer  and  Hefiod,  canonical  Books  of  ancient  Paganifm,  ii. 

418. 
Honefty  the  beft  Policy,  ii.  334. 
Hope  and  Fear  defended,  ii.  178,  179. 
Horace  quoted,  i.  95.  119.  132.   139.208.  263.407.457. 

566,  Note  [OO].  ii.   182.  268.  374.  390. 
HoJIiSf  its  Signification  in  old  Latin,  i.  551,  Note  [O], 
Human  Life,  general  Idea  of  it,  i.  193. 

-Nature,  its  Dignity,  i.  83. 

Humility,  its  Caufes,  ii.  186. 

Hufbandmen,  what  Proportion  they  bear  to  Manufa6turers, 

i.  272. 
Hutchinfon,  Mr.  quoted,  i.  381. 
Hyde  de  Religione  veterum  Perfarum,  quoted,  ii.  433.  438. 

I' 

JaNSENISTS,  their  Genius,  i.  80.  ii.  481,  482, 
Ice,  Reports  of  it  not  credible  to  an  Indian,  ii.  122. 
Ideas,  their  Anbciation,  ii.  23,  24,  ^c  54. 

■    their  Origin,  ii.   17,  tffr. 
Idolatry,  its  Origin  from  Polytheifm,  ii.  423. 
Jefuits,  their  Refinement,  ii.  496. 

Jews,  their  national  Chara6ter,  whence, ii.  505,  Note  [CCC]. 
—— Reafon  of  their  Infurreftion,  ii.  450. 
Jewifh'Religion  and  Egyptian  refembling,  i\.<,0'i),Note[CCC]. 
Ignorance  of  Caufes  the  Origin  of  Polytheifm,  ii.  411. 
Immaculate  Concepiion,  a  popular  Opinion,  ii.  430. 
Immortality  of  the  Son!,  on  what  founded,  ii.   151. 
Impiety  of  popiiFar  Religions,  Ii,  457. 
Imprclfions,  what,  ii.   18. 
Impotence  and  Barrennefs,  ii.  293. 
Inceft,  whence  its  Crime,  ii.  256. 
Independents,  tiieir  Genius,  i.  78. 
Indians  juflly  incredulous  with  regard  to  Ice,  Ii.  122. 
Induftry,  its  Merit,  whence,  ii.  285. 
InftruQions  to  Members,  i.  33. 
Intereft,  private,  how  far  the  Foundation  of  Government,  i. 

29.  public,  ibid. 
Intered,  its  Lowncfs,  whence,  i.  315.  ufeful,  321. 
Johnfoii,  (Ben)   his  Charafter,  i.  556,  Note  [ZJ. 
lonians  and  Dorians,  Tribes  of  Greeks,  i.  226. 

Jofcphus 


INDEX.  519 

Tofcphus  quoted,  i.  566,  Note  [NN].  568,  Note  [Q£L]- 

Joy,  Grief,  explained,  ii.   177. 

Iphicrates,  a  Saying  of  his,  ii.  315. 

Ifocratcs  quoted,  i.  408.  427,  428, 

Irifh,  their  Idea  of  Merit,  ii.  304. 

Italians,  Caufe  of  their  Effeminacy,  i.  292. 

Italy  ancient  and  modern.  Number  of  its  Inhabitants,  i.  465. 

Julian  quoted,  i.  440. 

Juftice,  Source  of  its  Merit,  ii.  232.  farther  explained,  357. 

Juftin  quoted,  i.  450.  465. 

Juftinian  x^uoted,  i.   139, 

Juvenal  quoted,  i.   132.  224.  413.  458.  466.  11.  224.  456- 

JUaMPRTDIUS  quoted,  I.  437. 

Laws  of  the  twelve  Tables,  i.   122. 

Laws  of  Juflice,  whence  derived,  ii.  241. 

— —  of  Nature,  ii.  253. 

Louis  XIV.  Numbers  of  his  armies,  i.  290. 

Liberty  and  NeccfTity,  a  Difpute  of  Words,  ii.  86. 

Liberty,  civil,  its  advantages,  i.  91,  &c,   119,  120,   121. 

Liberty  of  the  Preii,  why  peculiar  to  Great  Britain,  i.  9,  10, 

II,   12. 
Lipfius,  Juftus,  quoted,  i.  410. 
Livy,  a  fincere  Religionift,  ii.  454.  quoted,  i.  23,  57.  220. 

274-  542.  356-  41^9-  4-'5-  435-  »■  372.  461. 
Locke,  (Mr.)  quoted,   i.  g^.  493.  ii.  61.  6g.  184.  471,  Note 

[A].475,  A^.L^[D]. 
Longinus  quoted,  i.  104.  108.  ii.  301,  417. 
Louvellein  Party  in  Holland,  i.  67. 
Love  and  Hatred,  whence  derived,  ii.   199. 
Lucan  quoted,  i.  414. 
Lucian  quoted,  i.   1S9.  543,  Note  [Z].  559.,  Note  [HH].  ii. 

12S.  141.  290.  386.  416.  454.  459,  460. 
I/Ucretlus,  his  Chrtrai^ler;  i.  209.  quoted,  ii.  134.  424. 
Luxury,  its  different  Senfes,  i.  285.  its  Advantages,  2S7,  2S0. 

its  Difadvantages,  296,  297. 
Luxurious  Ages  moll  happy,  i.  286.  289.  mofc  vireuous,  ibid, 
I^yfias,    Genius  of  his  Eloquence,  i.   1 1 2.  quoted,  i.  424, 

425.  432.  439.  442.  445.  448.  ii.  392. 

M. 

IVxACIMAVEL,  his  RcBeaion  on  Chriaianity,  ii.  441, 

quoted,  i.  20,   21.  91.  262.  525.  ii.  285.  447. 
Magifins,  their  Faith,  ii.  432. 

Maillet,  Monfieur,  his  Account  of  Egypt,  quoted,  i.  44.  461. 

Malebranche 


520 


INDEX. 


Malebranche  quoted,  il.  475,  Note  [D].  487,  Note  [T]. 
Malice,  whence  it  is  derived,  ii.  200. 
Mandeville,  (Dr.)  quoted,  i.  297. 
Manilius  quoted,  ii.  416, 

Marcellinus,  (Ammianus)  quoted,  i.   565,  Note  [NN], 
Martial  quoted,  i.  407.  414.  466.  ii.  503,  No/e  [XX]. 
Mary,  Virgin,  became  a  Deity  among  the  Catholics,  ii.430. 
Malfacres,  ancient,  enumerated  from  Diodorus  Siculus,  i.  557, 

Note  [BB]. 
Mathematics,  their  Foundation,    ii.  485,    Note    [P].  their 

Advantage?,  65. 
Maurice,  Prince  of  Orange,  his  Saying,  ii.  315. 
Melon,  Monfieur,  quoted,   i.  272.   553,  Note  [QJ. 
Memory,  its  Merit,  whence  derived,  ii.  289. 
Menander  quoted,  i.   547,  Note  [H]. 
Merit,  perfonal,  how  the  objeQ:  of  Pride,  ii.   187. 

delineated,  li.  319,  &c. 

Metaphyfics,  what,  ii.   7,  8. 

Mine,  Thine,  ii.  244. 

Aliracles,  on  what  their  Evidence  is  founded,  li.   117,  &rc. 

■ •    defined,  ii.  122.  one  mentioned  by  De  Retx.  131. 

Mixture  of  Affe£tions,  ii.   182. 

Modefty,  whence  its  Merit,  ii.  513. 

Moliere,  i.  140. 

Molinills,  their  Geniur,  i.  80.  ii.  481. 

Monarch",  elective,  hereditary,  which  preferable,  1.   17. 

Monarchy,    and  Republic,   their  Advantages  and  Difadvan* 

tages  vv'ith  regard  to  the  Arts,  i.  129,  130,   131. 
Money,  its  continued  Encreafe  advantageous,  i.  302. 

its  Diffullon  advantageous,  i.  306,  307. 

Montaigne  quoted,  ii.  372. 

Montefquieu  quoted,  i.  399.  466.  ii.  487,  Note  [T.] 
Monumentum  Ancyrianum  quoted,  i.  451. 
Morals,  their  Standard,   i.  242. 

— not  fiUcUiating,  ii.  390. 

Morality  hurt  by  popular  Religions,  ii.  461. 

Moral  Caufes,  have  chief  Influence  on  Populcufnefs,   1,  40T. 

Mufcovites,  their  Manners,  i.   137. 

N. 

ATURE,  State  of,  defcribed,  ii.  237,  imaginary,  487, 
Note  [S]. 
Natural, in  what  Senfe  Juflice  is  natural,  W.A^gg^Note  [OS-]* 
Navigation,  ancient,  how  imperfect,  ii.  421. 
Ncccfllty,  its  Definition,  ii.  87.  102. 
Ncgroe?,  their  Character,  i.  548,  Note  [M]. 

Nepos, 


INDEX.  521 

Nepos,  Cornelius,  quoted,  i.  409, 

Neri,  and  Bianchi,  Parties  in  Florence,  i.  57. 

Newton,  Sir  Ifaac,  his  rule  of  philofophizing,  ii.  251, 

Newton,  Locke,  Clarke,  Arians,  and  fincere,  ii.  506.  Note 

[DDD]. 
Nicholas,  Saint,  became  a  Deity  among  the  Mufcovites, 

ii.430. 
Nifus,  or  ftrong  Endeavour,  not  the  Origin  of  the  Idea  of 

Power,  ii.  474.  Note  [Cj. 
Northern  Nations,  their  Swarms,  no  Proof  of  Populoufnefs, 

i.  462. 
Numatianus,  Claudius  Rutilius,  his  Contempt  of  the  Jewilh, 

and  confequently  of  the  Chriftian  Religion,  ii.  450. 


O 


o 


'BEDIENCE,  paffive,  i.  495,  ^c 
Obligation,  interefled,  to  Virtue,  ii.  330. 
Olympiodorus  quoted,  i.  565. 

Opinion,  the  real  Foundation  of  Government,  i.  2g. 
Orange,  the  family  of,  their  Partisans,  i.  67. 
Oratoribus,  Dialog,  de,  quoted,  i.  224. 
Oftracifm  of  Athens,  Petalifm  of  Syracufe,  i.  354. 
Ovid  quoted,  i.  118.  132.  403.  459.  461.  ii.  416.  419. 461 


A-  AINTERS,  modern,  unhappy  in  their  Subjefls,  i.  240. 
Paper  Credit  and   Banks,    whether  advantageous,  i.  301*, 

^  336,  337» 

Paris,  L'Abbe  de,  his  Miracles,  ii.  481. 

Parliament,  how  far  it  fhould  be  independent,  i.  43,  i^c. 

Parnel,  Dr.  his  Character  as  a  Writer,   i.  211. 

Parties  in  general,  i.  55.  perfonal,  56.  real,  59,  60. 

of  Great  Britain,  i.  65,  ^c. 

Pafcal  his  Charafter,  ii.  405,  quoted,  489. 

PafTions,  their  Kinds,  ii.  177.  their  Obje£lions  and  Caufes, 

184. 
Paterculus  quoted,  i.  342.  440.  465. 
Pathetic  and  Sublime,  ii.  309. 
Paufanias  quoted,  i.  449. 
Pay,  Proportion  between  Officers  and  Soldiers  anciently, 

i.418. 

Pericles, 


522  INDEX. 

Pericles,  his  Eloquence,  i.  113, 

Peripatetics,  their  mediums,  ii.  281. 

Pcrfecution,  whence  derived,  i.  61,  62.  naturally  attends  the 

Principle  of  Unity  of  God,  ii.  437. 
Perfia,  ancient,  whether  pofTefTed  of  an  Ariftocracy,  i.  541. 
Perfonjfy,  to,  natural,  and  the  Origin  of  Poly theifm,  ii.  41 1. 
Petrarch  quoted,  i.  266. 
Petronius  quoted,  i.  408.  459.  ii.  390. 
Phaedrus  quoted,  ii.  49"*.  Note  f Xj. 

Philip  of  Macedon,  his  Charadler  in  Demofthenes,  ii.  303. 
' his  Occupation  in  the  infernal  Regions, 

i.  189. 
Philip  II.  of  Spain,  i.  98. 

Philofophy,  the  two  Kinds  of  it,  the  obvious  and  abftrufe,  ii.3. 
PhyficalCaufes,  their  fmall  Influence  onPopuloufnefs,  i.  398. 
Pindar,  his  Scholiaft  quoted,  i.  146. 
Plato  quoted,  i.  92.  369.  442.  493.  ii.  374.  388.  455.  487. 

Note['$>^.  490,  Note  [XJ.  504,  Note  [ZZJ. 
Platonift,  i.  165. 
Plautus  quoted,  i.  444. 
Pliny  the  Elder  quoted,  i.  137.  237.  312.  342.   412.  454. 

456.  543,  Note  [C].  557,A^^/^[AAJ.562,  Note\lAJ\.  ii. 

407.  451.  503,  Note  [YYJ.  504.  Note  [AAA]. 

^ a  Paffage  of  his  examined,  i.  563. 

Pliny  the  Younger,  his  Houfe,  i.  451.  quoted,  i.  137.  325. 

ii.  421. 
Plutarch  quoted,  1.  133,  134.  187-  189.  218.228.  302.  327. 

369.  389,  390.  403.  409.  413.  415.  420.  423,  426.  431, 

440.  441.446.464.  468.  ii.  224.  275.302.388.421.  438, 

441.459. 

, A  Paffage  of  his  examined,  i.  466. 

Pofitenefs,  whence  its  Merit,  ii.  311. 

Politics,  a  Science,  i.  13,  ^c. 

Political  Cuftoms  of  Ancients  and  Moderns  compared,  i. 

415,416. 
Pollia  and  Papiria,  Roman  Tribes,  their  Animofity,  i.  57. 
Polybius  quot^id,  i.  19.  733.  312.  341.  356,  357,  418.  439. 

449.  459.  461.479.  541,  Note  [BJ.  552,  Note  [O].  ii. 

264.288.371.373. 
Polygamy,  its  Difadvantnges,  i.  195. 

Polythcifm,  the  primitive  Religion,  ii.  402.  its  Origin,  417. 
Pompey,  his  Supcrftition,  ii.  450. 

Pope,  Mr.  his  Character,  i.  209.  quoted,  13,  187.  23.  540. 
Power,  what  its  Idea,  ii.  68.  475,  A'<?/d' [EJ. 
Pra£lice  how  ufeful  to  Tnfte,  i.  253. 
Prefbyterians,  their  Charadcr,  i.  67.  78. 

Prcfence, 


INDEX.  523 

Prefcnce,  real,  ii.  445. 

PrelFing  Seamen,  i.  395. 

Prieft,  his  Chara6ter,  i.  214. 

IVierts,  their  Origin,  i.  '7. 

Prior,  Mr.  quoted,  i.  146. 

Pride,  whence  it  arifes,  ii.  1 86. 

Probabihty,  what,  ii.  61.  119. 

Promife,  what,  and  whence  its  Obligation,  i.  475. 

not  the  Origin  of  Government,  ib. 

Proof,  what,  ii.  61.  119. 

Property,  its  Equality  imprafticable,  ii.  242.  defended,  245. 

why  the  Source  of  Pride,  ii.  193. 

Proteftant  Succeflion,  its  Advantages  and  Difadvantages,  i. 

Providence,  particular,  on  what  founded,  li.  151. 
Provinces,  under  what  Government  moft  opprefled,  i.  17. 
Pyrrhus,  his  Saying  of  the  Romans,  i.  292. 

a 

V^U  AKERS,  their  Charader,  i.  78,  79. 
Quin6iilian  quoted,  i.  98.  108.  21 8. ii.  273.315.  454. 


R 


R 


.AC  INE,  his  Character,  i.  209.  quoted,  265.  ii.  483. 
Ramfay,  Chevalier,  quoted,  ii.  507. 
Reafon,  when  it  influences  Adtion,  only  a  cooler  Paflion, 

how  far  the  Source  of  Morals,  ii.  216. 

Reafon  and  Tafte,  their  boundaries,  i.  244. 

Reafon  more  precarious  than  Tafte,  i.  259. 

Reafons  of  State,  ii.  254. 

Refinement,  in  what  reipecl  ufeful,  i.  311. 

Regnard  his  Voyage  to  Lapland,  quoted,  ii.  416. 

Relations  of  Ideas,  ©ne  Object  of  Reafon,  ii.  27. 

Religion,  two  principal  Queftions  with  regard  to  it,  ii.  401. 

its  firft  Principles,  not  primary  but  fecondary,  ii.  4  4. 

Refemblance,  a  Source  of  AfTociation,  ii.  24.  55. 

Retz,  Cardinal  de,  quoted,  i.  534.  ii.  131. 

Revolution,  in  1688,  no  Contrad  or  Promife,  i.  478. 

Rhamadan  of  the  Turks,  ii.  463. 

Rhodes,  Number  of  its  Inhabitants,  i- 447. 

Riches,  why  the  Objedl  of  Pride  or  Efteem,  ii.  191.  294. 

Rochefoucauk  quoted,  ii.  210.  501,  Note  [SSJ. 

Rome,  i.  57.93.  97.  211. 

Rome, 


524  INDEX. 

Rome,  anciem,  its  Size  and  Number  of  Inhabitants,  i.  452, 

453- 
■ Name  of  its  tutelar  Deity,  concealed,  ii.  504   Note 

[AAA], 
Romans,  when  moft  corrupt,  i.  22.  anciently  Pirates,  i.  552. 

theirGovernmentundertheEmpirenotburdenfome,  1.30?. 
Roman  Empire,  whether  advantegous,  i.  466. 
Roundhead  Party,  i.  69. 
Poufleau  quoted,  i.  131. 
Rowe,  Mr.  his  Tragedy  cenfured,  i.  239. 


V^ADDER  contains  little  Morality,  ii.  461. 

Sallee,  Pnnce  of,  his  Saying  of  De  Ruyter,  ii.  446. 

Saii'.'ft  <iuoted,  i.  97.  132.  293.  425.  452.  ii.  393.  370.456: 

465. 
Saint  Evremond's  Charadler  of  Turenne,  ii.  285. 

quoted,  ii.  30  t. 

Sannazarias,  Cenfure  of  his  Paftorals,  ii.  271. 

Scapulaire,  what,  ii.  433. 

Scepiicifm,  ii.  27.  46.  exceflive,  159,   ^V.  moderate,  160. 

with  regard  to  the  Senfes,  161.  with  regard  to  Reafon, 

166.  Religious,  ii.  451. 
Sceptic,  the,  i.  17  . 
Sciences,  their  Divilion,  ii.  173. 
Sdiolafiic  Religion,  its  ufual  Abfurdity,  ii.  442. 
Scriptures,  holy,  quoted,  ii.  232.  372. 
Scriptural  and  traditional  Religions  compared,  ii.  452. 
Selhlh  and  Social  notoppofite,  ii.  332. 
Self-love  not  the  Foundation  of  moral  Sentiment,  ii.  323. 
Seneca  quoted,  i.  404.  408.  411.  415.  ii.  356.  374.418. 
Seneca  the  Elder  quoted,  i.  413. 

Sentiment,  how  far  the  Source  of  Morals,  ii.  216.  338. 
Sextus    Empiricus  quoted,  i.  415.  ii.  227.  420.  456.  490. 

Ncte[X]. 
ShafteH^ury,  Lord,  quoted,  i.  93.  135.  391. 
Shakefpeare,  his  Artifice  in  Othello,  i.  236.  quoted,  ii.  300. 
Simplicity  in  Writing,  i.  207. 
Slavery  prejudicial  to  Populoufnefs,  i.  404. 

to  Humanity,  i.  403. 

Sneezing,  God  of,  ii.  503,  Note  [YYJ. 
Socrates,  his  Character,  ii.  305. 
Soil,  very  fertile,  no  Advantage,  i,  283. 
Soldier,  his  Charae^ter,  i.  214. 

Soldiers, 


INDEX.  525 

Soldiers,  what  Proportion  they  commonly  bear  to  the  People, 

1.293.  ^       . 

Sophocles,  his  Character,  1.  2(^9. 
Spain,  ancient  and  modern,  its  inhabitants,  i.  464. 
Spaniard,  his  Politenefs,   ii.  312. 

Sparta,  its  Policy,  i.  273.  Number  of  its  Inhabitants,  448. 
Spa'tian  quoted,  i.  564.  ii.  45  . 
Spencer  quoted,  ii.  305. 
Sportula,  their  bad  tendency,  i.  466. 
Stanian  quoted,  i.  342. 
States,  fmall,  their  Advantage,  i.  417- 
Stoic,  the,  i.  153. 
Stoics,  their  idea  of  Providence,  ii.  107. 

their  SuperAition,  ii.  454. 

Strabo  quoted,  i.  369.  407,  408.  411.  438.  442.  456.  460. 

463,   465.   467.  550,  Note  [Kl.   562,   Note  [i^^K].  566, 

Note  [NN[.  ii.  415.  439. 
Stuart  Family,  whether  their  SuccefTion  ought  to  have  been 

retained,  i.  51 1.  whether  reftored,  520. 
Subjects  particular,  fuir  not  wiih  Reiinement,  i.  269. 
Suetonius  quoted,  i.  19.  403.  407.  451.  453,  454.  466.  543. 

NotelC\.  ii.  13-.  582.  418.439.45'- 
Suidas  quoted,  i.  113.  566,  Note  [Q^XJ ■ 
Superrtition  defined,  i.  76,  77,  ^c. 

Swift,  Dr.  quoted,  i.  329.  344,  559,  Note  [DD  j.  ii.  284- 
Sycophant,  its  original  Senfe,  i.  327- 

Sympathy,  the  great  Source  of  moral  Sentiment,  ii.  270.  30c- 
Syracufe,  its  Extent  and  Number  of  Inhabitants,  i.  448. 


L  AC  IT  US,  fomewhat  fuperftitious,  though  profane, 
ii.  454.  quoted,  i.  10.  19.  67.  120.  134.  384.  407.  41-. 
415.  422.  451.  452-  467.  482.  552,  Note  [PJ.  557,  Note 
[AA].  ii.  130.  304.  426.  454-  496,  Note  [hh].  505, 
Note  [CCC]. 

Taflb  quoted,  i.  148. 

Tarte,  its  Standard,  i.  241. 

Taxes,  when  hurtful,  i.  363,  364. 

do  not  fall  ultimately  on  Land,  i.  366. 

Temple,  Sir  William,  i.  95.  226.  364. 

Tendency  of  A(Stions,  not  their  accidental  Confequences,  re- 
garded in  Morals,  ii.  500,  Note  [EE]. 

Terence,  his  Character,  i.  211.  quoted,  135.  262. 

Tertullian  quoted,  i.  567,  xVtff«[QCi_]. 

Thebes, 


526  INDEX. 

Thebes,  Number  of  its  Inhabitants,  i.  447. 
Theifm,  its  Origin  from  Polytheifm,  ii.  426. 
Theifm  and  Polytheifm,  compared,  ii.  436. 
Theocritus,  i.  439. 

Thinkfers,  abftrufe,  how  ufeful,  i.  269,  Ihallow,  ibid. 
Thucydides,  the  firft  Hiftorian,  i.  439. 

quoted,  i.  190.  273.  341.  355.  418.  425.  433. 

438.  443,  444.  449.  n.  3-^4.  441 . 
Timon  of  Athens,  his  affection  to  Alcibiades,  ii.  275. 
Timotheus  the  Poet,  his  Hymn  to  Diana,  ii.  459. 
Tillotfon,  his  Argument  againft  the  real  Prefence,  ii.  117, 
Toleration  naturally  attends  Polytheifm,  ii.  436. 
Tory  Party,  i.  63.  their  fpeculative  Syftem,  i.  471. 
Tot,  Monf.  du,  quoted,  i.  553,  Note  [Q,]. 
Tournefort,  Monf.  quoted,  i.  200.  459. 
Tragedy,  why  it  pleafes,  i.  231. 
Tranquility  of  Mind,  whence  its  Merit,  ii.  305. 
Treafures,  their  Effedls,  i.  336. 
Turkifh  Government,  i.  368. 
Tyrannicide,  why  blameable,  ii.  228. 
Tyrants,  ancient,  their  Cruelty,  i,  426. 


u. 


u 


ST  ARIZ,  Geronimo  de,  quoted,  1.400. 
Ufurpation,  what,  i.  479. 

Utility,  a  Source  of  Approbation,  ii.  226.  why,  261. 
• to  others,  ii.  349.  to  ourfelves,  299., 


V  ALERIUS  Maximus,  quoted,  i.  562,  Note  [LLJ. 
Vanity,  allies  eafily  to  Virtue,  i.  90.  why  blamed,  ii.  316. 
Varro quoted,  i.  407.  412.  413.  459,  465  ii.  449. 
Vauban  quoted,  i.334. 
Vega,  GarcillafTo  de  la,  quoted,  i.  324. 
Verna,  its  Senfe  and  Inferences  from  it,  i  555,  Note  [Xj. 
Verney,  Paris  de,  quoted,  i.  553,  Note  [QJ. 
Vcfpafian,  his  Miracle,  ii.  130. 
Viiftor  Aurelius,  quoted,  i   564. 
Viaor,  Publius,  quoted,  448   565,  Note  [MM]. 
Virgil,  his  Charader,  i.  209.  quoted,  ii.  356.  293. 
Virtue  and  Vice  defined,  ii.  219. 
Vis  inertiie,  ii.  474,  Note  [DJ. 

Vitelliiis, 


INDEX.  527 

VitcIIIus,  his  Meannefs,  ii.  302. 

Vitruvius  quoted,  i.  ^62,  Note  [KKJ. 

Voluntary  and  involuntary,  why  made  by  tli£  Moderns  fo 

eflential  to  Morals,   ii.  375. 
Voltaire  quoted,  i.  1 1. 

Vopifcus  quoted,  i.  448.  454.  566,  Note  [OO]. 
VolFius  quoted,  i.  399.  564. 


w. 


vf 


ALLER,  his  Charafter,  j.  141. 
Wifdom,  its  Merit,  whence,  ii.  288. 
Wit  or  Ingenuity,  its  Merit,  whence,  ii.  312. 
Whig  Party,  i.  69,  their  fpeculative  Syftem,  i.  471. 
WolJey,  Cardinal,  i.  134. 
Women,  timorous  and  fuperftitious,  ii.  414. 
Wonder,  the  Pafllon  of,  inclines  us  to  believe  Miracles,  ii. 
125. 


X 


X 

ENOPHON,  his  Superftition,  ii.  505,  Aro/^[DDD]. 
quoted,  i.  92.  100.  353,  354.  411.  4ir 


427-  435-  444>  445-  447>  448.  461.  ii.  293  383.  437, 
458. 
Xerxes,  his  Purfuit  of  new  pleafures,  i.  144. 


F      I      N      I 


Date  Due 

ftCSERVI 

..::T/.^ 

^ 

kCy.