The philosophical dictionary: or, The opinions of modern philosophers on metaphysical, moral, and political subjects

Ex Libris
C. K. OGDEN

llty+ii

h

'

THE

PHILOSOPHICAL

DICTIONARY:

OR, THE

OPINIONS

O F

MODERN PHILOSOPHERS

O K

METAPHYSICAL, MORAL,

AND

POLITICAL SUBJECTS.
IN FOUR VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

LONDON:
PRINTED FOR G. G. J. AND J, ROBINSON;

AND

FOR C. ELLIOT, EDINBURGH.

PREFACE.

CT* H E following Work is compiled from the wri-
tings of the moft eminent philofophers in Europe".
Jt was undertaken originally 'with no other view
but to fcrve as a Common-place Book for pri-
vate nfe. If the publication of it can add to the
amiifemcnt of travellers who carry few books with
them, or fatisfy the curiojity of thofe who cannot
furchafe many books, or have little time to read
them, it "will anfwer every purpofe the editor could
expecl.

There are fame articles in it which have been
the fubjecl of controversy among/I ancient as -well
as modern philofophers : on thefe fubjecl s, the argu-
ments on both fides of the quejlion are, in general^
fxtratledfor the fatisfaclion of the reader. I/the
i*c*rk meet the approbation of the Public, the de~
feels of it may be amended in a Supplement or fu-
ture Edition*

A hve of truth, and warm wifbes for its dif-
fufion, under refpeclable authorities, were the fole
cbjeclsof the editor in this publication.

LONDON, 7
January 1786.5

F. S******R, M. D.

A2

**"*•• O '3 ?~* •
jl

Cnterrti fn ©tau'otur* fcaU,

or THE

FIRST VOLUME,

Page

ABSURDITY laughs at folly - 13

ADMIRATION and Acquaintance incompa-
tible - 14
ADULTERY, and its punifhment - 15
ADVICE - 17
On the fame fubjecl: iS
AMBITION - - 24
ATTACHMENT (our) and efteem for others
depend on the analogy of their ideas to our
own - 25:
A 3

6 CON TEN T s.

Page

ANIMALS (the origin of the inferiority of
to man) - 28

ANIMALS (the reafon of) - 31

ARTS and Sciences (free governments alone
favourable to the rife of) - - 33

ASSASINATION of Princes - 34.

ASSENT derived from teftimony and experi-
ence 35

ASSENT to be regulated by the ground of
probability - - 37

ASSOCIATION of ideas - 40

ASSOCIATION of ideas (a general view of
Hartley's doctrine of)

ASSURANCE -

ATHEISM

On the fame fubjecr.

On the fame fubje£fc

ATHEISM and fuperflition

ATHEISTS and Theifts (the difputes be-
tween) verbal - - ^6

AVARICE 58

On the fame fubjecl "" • 59

BANKRUPTCY (national) - 61

BEASTS - - 66

BEAUTY andBEAUTiFUL - 69

f 2 BE-

CONTENTSt ^

Page

BEING (a cogitative) has exiftedfrom eternity 70

BELIEF - ' - - 74

On the fame fubjetT: 76

On the fame fubjetT: - - 78

BELIEF or DISBELIEF - - 82

BENEFICENCE - - - 84

BENEFICENCE and gratitude - 85

BIGOTRY (religious) - '- 86

BLACKNESS (the.effe&s of) - 87

CALVINISTIC Divinity

CAUSE and effect •

CAUSE (exiftence of a firft)

CERES ELEUSINA (myfteries of)

On the fame fubjetl

CERTAINTY

CHAIN of events -

CHANCE and Caufes

CHARACTER -

CHARACTERS (national)

CHARACTER (dignity of)

CHARLES I. (punifhment of)

CHASTITY (the merit of) derived from its

utility - - 117

CHILDREN (the different capacities of) 1 19
CHRISTIAN religion, its progrefs and efta-

biiihinent in the Roman empire - 121

CHRI-

5 CONTENTS,

Page

CHRISTIANITY, not adapted to make a
conftitutional part in any fyftem of legif-
lation. - - - 124

CIVIL commotions - - 127

CLiMATEs(thedifFerenceofmenin different) 128
CLIMATE (the influence of) on mankind 132
CL IM A TE^the influence of) - 133

COMMERCE favourable to civilization and

peace 134

CONSCIENCE - - 135

On the fame fubje& - 139

CONSCIENCE (liberty of) 143

CONTEMPT - - 144

CONTROVERSY - - 145

CONTROVERSIES (religious) - *A.

CONVERSATION - 150

On the fame fubjeft - - ib.

CORN (exportation of) - 152

COUNTRY - - 154

CORRUPTION (religious and political) 156

COURTEZANS - - 158

CREATION ... 160

CREDULITY and authority - 162

CRIMES (degrees of) - - 163

CRIMES (evidence of) 164

CRIMES and punifhments (the proportion
between) - . 166

CB.O-WN.

CONTENTS.

CROWN (influence of the) in the Britifli Par-
liament - - 167

CUSTOMS (the origin of barbarous and ridi-
culous) in various ages and nations i6S

DARKNESS (Locke's opinion concerning)

confidered - - - 173

DEITY - 178-

On the fame fubje£l - - 182

DEITY (idea and belief of) not innate 183

DEITY (worihip of) - 184

DELICACY of tafte and of paffion - 185

DELIRIUMS - 188

DELUGE - - 190

DESTINY - - 192

DISCRETION - 194

DIVISIBILITY of matter - 195

DIVORCE and repudiation - 197

DOTAGE - - 199^

DREAMS ... 200

DRESS (female) - - 202

DURATION - - -203

ECCLESIASTICAL power and its influence 206

EC.

io CONTENT s.

Page

EccLEsiAsrrcAL (the advantage of uniting

the civil and; powers - 22<J

ECONOMY - - ib.

EDUCATION - - 222

On the fame fubjeft 223

On the fame fubject - 225

On the fame fubjecl - 227

EDUCATION (a comparative view of ancient

and modern) - - 229

EDUCATION ^attention to the) of the com-
mon people, incumbent upon the public 240
EMPIRE (caufes of the decadency of) 253

ENGLAND (conftitution of) - 258

ENGLISH conftitution (abufes in the) 261

ENNUI, - - 263

ENTHUSIASM - - 265

EQUALITY - - 267

On the fame fubje& - 268

On the fame fubjecT: - 26*9

On the fame fubject - - ib.

ESTABLISHMENTS for the religious inftruc-

tion of the people - 27?

EVIDENCE - - 284

EVIDENCE (hiftorical) - • 285

EVIL (the origin of) - - 286

EVIL (natural and moral) - - 289

EXPERIENCE (difcovery of) 30©

Ex-

CONTENTS. u

Page

EXPERIENCE (the foundation of all conclu-
fions from) - -* 303

EXTERNAL objects (the exiflence of) only
probable - 309

FABULOUS ftories (difficulty of deterting) 311
FACT (matters of) not demonftratively qer-

tain - - - 312
FACT (nature of our reafonings concerning

. matters of) - - , 313

FAITH - 314

On the fame fubject - - 318

FAITH and reafon ib.

FAME - - 319

FAME (origin of the love of) 320

FANATICISM - - 321

FANATICISM (the punifhment of ) - 323

FILIAL affection 324

FINAL caufes 325

FLATTERY - - 327

FRIENDSHIP . 328

On the fame fubjeft - - 329

FUTURE punifhments - 334

FUTURE rewards and punifliments 335

FUTURE date - - 336

G.

II Co NT EN TS.

GALLANTRY

GENIUS ...

GOD ....

On the fame f«bje£ - -;

GOOD (the prevalence of) over evil
GOVERNMENT (the difference between a

free and a defpotic)
GOVERNMENT (refiftance to)
On the fame fubjecl
GOVERNMENT (civil)
GOVERNMENT - -

On the fame fubjeft . -

GOVERNMENT (principles of) •

THE

THE

DICTIONARY.

A.

ABSURDITY LAUGHS AT FOLLY.

THE Duke of Lorrain gave a grand en-
tertainment to his whole court. The
fupper was ferved up in a veftibule,
which opened on a parterre. In the midft of the
fupper a lady thought Ihe law a fpider : (he was
feized with fear, fcreamed out, left the table, fled
into the garden-, and fell down on the grafs. At
the moment of her fall (he heard fomebody near
her ; this was the Dulce's prime minifter. " O,
" Sir," faid fhe, " you give me fpirits ; how
« much am I obliged to you! I was afraid I
Vol. I. B ' f "had

14 ABSCRDITT.

<f had been guilty of impertinence." " O, Ma«
•" danU who eould flay there?" replied the mi-
nifter. — " But tell me, was it a very large one ?"
" Dear Sir, it was quite frightful." " Did it fly
" near me r" added he. " What do you mean ?
" The fpider fly ?" " How !" returned he, « is
(f it only for a fpider that you make all this to
** do ? Go, Madam, you are very weak 5 I thought
« it had been a bat." This facl is the hiftory of
all mankind ; whatever we have that is ridiculous,
we always conceal from ourfelves, we only per-
ceive it in others. In this world it is always ab-
furdity that laughs at folly. HELVETIUS.

ADMIRATION AND ACQUAINTANCE
INCOMPATIBLE.

" NO man,** faid the Prince de Conde, " is a
" Lero," to his valet de chambre. It is certain,
that admiration and acquaintance are altogether
incompatible towards any mortal creature. Sleep
and love convinced even Alexander himfelf that
he was not a god : but I :fuppofe, that fuch as at-
tended him daily could eafily, from the number-
lefs weakneiTes to which he was fubjecl:, have gi-
ven him many full more convincing proofs of his
.humanity. HUME.

ADUL-

ADULTERY. 15

ADULTERY, AND ITS PUNISHMENT.

ADULTERY is a crime which, politically con-
fidered, owes its exiflenceto two caufes, viz. Per-
nicious laws, and the powerful attraction between,
the fexes. This attraction is fimilar in many cir-
cumftances to gravity, the fpring of motion in the
wniverfe. Like this, it is diminished by diftance;
one regulates the motion of the body, the other
that of the foul. But they differ in one refpecl :
the force of gravity decreafes in proportion to the
obftacles that oppofe it j the other gathers ftrength

and vigour as the obftacles increafe. Adultery

proceeds from an abufe of that neceflity which is
conflant and univerfal in human nature ; a necef-
fity anterior to the formation of fociety : whereas^
all other crimes tend to the deftruction cf fociety,
and arife from momentary paffions, and not froni
a natural necefiity. It is the opinion of thofe who
have ftudied hiftory and mankind, that this ne-
ceflity is conftantly in the fame degree in the fama
climate. If this be true, ufelefs or rather perni-
cious muft all laws and cuftoms be which tend
to diminifti the fum total of the effects of this paf-
fion ; fuch laws would only burden one part of
the fociety with the additional neceflities of the
other : but, on the contrary, wife are the laws
which, following the natural courfe of the river,
divide the ftream into a number of equal branches,.
B 2 pro.

1(5 ADULTERY.

preventing thus both fterility and inundation.— —
Conjugal fidelity is always greater in proportion
as marriages are more numerous and lefs difficult*
But when the intereft or pride of families, or pa-
ternal authority, not the inclination of the parties,
unite the fexes, gallantry foon breaks the flender
ties, in fpite of common moralifts., who exclaim
againft the effect, whilft they pardon the caufe.

—. The a£t of adultery is a crime fo inftantane-

ous, fo myfterious, and fo concealed by the veil
which the laws themfelves have woven, a veil ne-
ceffary indeed, but fo tranfparent as to heighten
rather than conceal the charms of the objecl:; the
opportunities fo frequent, and the danger of dif-
covery fo eafily avoided j that itv/ere much eafier
for the laws to prevent this crime, than to punifh

it when committed. To every crime which

from -its nature muft frequently remain unpu-
niflied, the punifhment is an incentive. Such is
the nature of the human mind, that difficulties,
if not infurmountable, nor too great for our na-
tural indolence, embellifh the objedl, and fpur us
on to the purfuit ; they are fo many barriers that
confine the imagination to the object, and oblige
\is to confider it in every point of view. In this
agitation the mind naturally inclines and fixes it-
felf to the moft agreeable part, ftudioufly avoiding
every idea that might create djfguft. BECCARIA.

AD v i c E\ »»£

ADVICE.

IS a man to be turned ancle from an imprudent
and dangerous action, and does humanity under-
take to give him advice in the affair r It operates
CH-his vanity; it fhows him the truth, but in ex-
preflions the leaft offenfive, and at the fame time
foftens the moft fevere parts of it by tone and

gefture.^ Severity fpeaks bluntly: malignityin

a manner the moft mortifying.

Pride commands irnperiouily ; it is deaf to all
reply ; it will be obeyed without hefitation.
, Reafon examines with the man the fagacity of.
his actions, hears his reply, and fubmits to the.
judgment of thofe it concerns. ,

Amity, full of tendernefs for his friend, con-
tradicts him with regret : if he be not able to per-
fuade, he has recouife to prayers and tears, and--
conjures him by the facred bond that unites their
happinefs, not to expofe himfelf to fo dangerous
an action.

Love takes another tone ; and to combat the re-
folution of her admirer, alleges no other argu-
ments than her pleafure and her love; if thcfe
fail, (he at laft condefcends to reafon, for reaion

is always the laft refource of love. One may, .

therefore, difcover the fort of character or paffion
our advifers are poiTefled with, by the manner in
which the advice is given. But has deceit a pe-
culiar language ? No ; the knave borrows fome-
B times

i8 ADVICE.

times that of friendfhip, and is to be difcovered by
the difference there is between the fentiments he
affe&s, and thofe he ought to have.

Different paflions and different characters have
different languages. HELVETIUS.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

EVERY man whom we confult always believes
that his counfel is dictated by frienclfhip. He fays
fo; mod men believe him on his word, and their
blind confidence often leads them into error. It
would, however, be very eafy to undeceive our-
felves in this particular ; for we love but few
people, and would advife all the world. From
whence does this madnefs of giving advice de-
rive its fource ? From our vanity. Moft men
have the folly to believe themfelves wife, and
much more fo than their neighbours; and there-
fore they are pleafed with every thing that con-
firms this opinion. Whoever confults us, is
agreeable to us; for this is a confeflion of an in-
feriority which flatters our vanity. Befides, what
opportunities does our being confulted give us to
difplay our maxims, our ideas, and our fenti-
ments, to talk much of ourfelves, and to our own
advantage ! Thus there is nobody who does not
take advantage of it. More employed about the
intereft of our vanity than about the intereft of
th<j perfon who comes to confult us, he commonly

leaves

ADVICE. 19

leaves us without being inftrufted or enlighten-
ed ; and our counfels have been our own pane-
gyric. Thus our advice is almoft conftantly dic-
tated by vanity, and hence we would correct all
the world.

In the cafe of ignorance, there is no doubt but
advice may be very ufeful : a phyfician, a counfel-
lor, a philofopher, and a politician, may each in
their feparate profeffions give excellent advice. In
every other cafe it is ufelefs, and often very ridi-
culous ; becaufe people in general always propofe

themfelves for a model. Let an ambitious man

confult a perfon of moderate paffions, and pro-
pofe to him hisviews and projects : Abandon them,
the latter will fay; do notexpofe yourfelf to dan-
gers and vexations without number, but amufe
yourfelf in tranquillity and peace. To this the
ambitious man will reply. If I had ftill my choice
to make, I might follow your advice ; but my paf-
fions are fixed, my character formed, and my habits
fettled : I would make the beft of them, fo as to
promote my own happinefs ; and upon this point
I would confult you. In vain would he add, that
the character being once formed, it is impeffible
to change it ; that the pleafures of a man of mo-
derate defires are infipid to one filled with ambi-
tion : whatever he alleged, the man of moderate
pafBons would conftantly repeat, Be not ambi-
tious. The phyfician may as well lay to his pa-

&0 A' D V I C E!^

trent, Sir, do not have a fever.— —Old men con-
ftantly ufe the fame language. When a young
man confults them in regard to the conduct he
ought to obferve: Fly, fay they, plays, operas,
balls, the aflemblies of women, and every frivo-r
lous amufement ; imitate us, and employ your-
felf entirely about making your fortune. But
the young man will reply, I am flill fond of plea-
fare, I love womefr to diffraction ; how then mail
I renounce them ? You muft be fenfible that at
my age this pleafure is an appetite. Whatever ha
can fay, an old man will never comprehend that
the enjoyment of a woman .is fo necefiary to tha
happinefs of a young man. Every fenfation which
we do not experience, we cannot allow to exift.
The old man no longer feeks pleafure, and plea-
fure no longer feeks him: the objects with which
he was inceflantly employed in his youth, infen*
fibly retire from his fight. Whoever confiders the
ardour with which men propofe thcmfelves for
models, may imagine that he fees a number of
perfons fwimming. upon a great lake, and being
carried by different currents, lift up their heads
above the water, crying to each other, It is me
you muft follow, and there you muft land. HeM
faft by chains of brafs, fixed to a rock, the wife
man contemplates their folly, crying, Do you not
fee, that drawn by different currents,, you can?-
not land at the fame place ? To advife % man to

fay

ADVICE. 2i

fay this, or to do that, is commonly nothing more
than, I would aft in that manner, or I would fpeak
thus. The paflage in Moliere, You are a goldfmith)
Mafter Jojfe, — applied to the pride of fetting
ourfelves up for an example, is more general than
is imagined, There is not a blockhead but would
take upon himfelf to direft the conduct of the
man of the greateft genius. The chief of the
Hatches, every morning at the rifing of Aurora,
wajks out of his cabbin, and marks out for the fun,

his brother, the courfe he is to tajce. But, fay

you, the man who is confulted may doubtlefs be
under an illufion, and attribute to friendlhip what
is only the effecl: of vanity. But how can this illu-
fion pafs upon him who confults him ? "Why is
not he enlightened by his own intereft ? It is be-
caufe he readily believes that others take an intereft
in his concerns, which they really do not ; be-
caufe moil men are weak, and not being able to
conduct themfelves, they have occafion for others
to mark out their conduct ; and it is very eafy, as
obfervation proves, to communicate to fuch a
perfon the high opinion the advifer has of him-
felf. This is not the cafe with a man of fenfe :
if he confults, it is. becaufe he is ignorant of a
particular matter; he knows that in every other
cafe, and efpecially in what relates to his own
happinefs, he ought to confult none but his own
judgment. In faft, if the propriety of advice de-
pends

2-2 A D V I C 2.

x

pends upon an exact knowledge of the circuro
ftances in which thofe whom we advife are pla-
ced, to whom can a man apply better than to him-
felf ? Who knows whether, on the character be-
ing formed, and the habits fixed, each perfon is
not able to conduct himfelf as well as pofiible,
even though- he mould appear a fool ? Every
body knows the anfwer of a famous oculift : A
countryman went to confult him, and found him
fitting at table, eating and drinking heartily:
" What muft I do for my eyes ?" faid the pea-
fant. " You muft abftain from wine," re-
plied the oculift. " But it feems to me," re-
turned the peafant, walking up nearer to him,
" that your eyes are not much better than mine>
« and yet you drink." " Truly," replied the
oculift, " that is becaufe I am fonder of drinking
" than of being cured." How many men are
there like this oculift, whofe happinefs depends on
paffions that muft plunge them in the greateft mi-
fery, and yet, however, if I may venture to fay fo,
would be fools, did they endeavour to be more
wife ! There are men, and experience has mown
that they are pretty numerous, who are fo mife-
rable, they can no otherwife be happy than by
performing actions that lead to the grave. If, as
Pafcal fays, habit is a fecond, and perhaps a firft
nature, it muft be acknowledged that a bad habit
once confirmed, will laft as long as life. But it

ADVICE. 23

rnay be anfvrered, There are alfo men who, fof
•want of wife advice, daily commit the grofTeft
faults ; and good advice doubtlefs might make
them efcape their misfortunes. To which it is
replied, that they would commit more confiderable
ftill, if they gave themfelves up inconfiderately
to the counfels of others. Whoever blindly fol-
lows them muft obferve a conduct full of incon*
filtences, commonly more fatal than the excefs
even of the paifions Inconfiderate advice pre-
cipitates us too often into the abyfs of misfortune.
Hence we ought often to call to mind this faying of
Socrates : " May I," fays that philofopher, " al-
" ways be on my guard againft my mailers and
" my friends, constantly preferve my foul in a
n -'tranquil ftate, and obey none but reafon, .the
" beft of counfellors !" Whoever hears reafon, is
not only deaf to bad counfel, but alfo weighs in
the balance of doubt the advice even of thofc
men who are refpeftable by their age, their dig-
nity, and their merit, yet confider themfelves as
of too much importance, and, like the hero of Cer-
vantes, have a corner of folly to which they would

bring every thing. If advice be ever ufeful, it

is when it puts us in a condition to judge better
for ourfelves : if it be prudent to afk it, it is only
fo when it is afked of thofe wife men who, know-
ing the value and fcarcity of good counfel, are very
<£rugal iri giving it. In fadb, in order to give fuch

a*

24 ADVICE.

as will be of ufe, it requires the greatest: care t<*
dive into the character of the man. What know-
ledge is neceflary for the advifer to have of his
tafte, his inclinations, the fenfations by which ht
is animated, and the feelings by which he is af-
fected ? What fkill to forefee the faults he would
commit, and the circumftances in which he may
be placed by fortune •, and to judge in confe-
quence of this, whelher the fault he would cor-
rect, would not be changed into a virtue in the
ftation in which he will probably be placed ? Thefe
are the difficulties which render the wife fo refer-
red on the article of giving advice. Thus it is only
of thofe, who fcarcfe ever give any, that we ought
to demand it. All other cbunfels may be juftly
fufpecled, HELVETIUS.

AMBITION.

THOSE great objects of felf-intereft, of whicH
the lofs or acquifition quite changes the rank of
the perfon, are the objects of the paflion properly
called Ambition ; a -paflion which, when it keeps
within the bounds of prudence and juftice, is al-
ways admired in the world, and has even fome-
times a certain irregular greatnefs which dazzles
the imagination when it pafies the limits of both
thefe virtues, and is not only unjuft but extrava-
gant. Hence the general admiration for heroes

AMBITION. 25

and conquerors, and even for ftatefmen, \vhofe
projects have been very daring and extenfive, tho*
altogether devoid of juftice; fuch as thofe of the
Cardinals of Richelieu and of Retz. The objects
of avarice and ambition differ only in their great-
nefs. A mifer is as furious about a halfpenny,
as the man of ambition about the conqueft of a
kingdom. A. SMITH.

OUR ATTACHMENT AND ESTEEM FOR
OTHERS DEPEND ON THE ANALOGY OF
THEIR IDEAS TO OUR OWN.

EVERY idea offered to us, has always fonie re-
gard to our ftations, paflions, or opinions. Now,
in all thefe feveral cafes we value an idea in pro-
portion to its ufe. The pilot, the phyfician, and
the engineer, will have more regard for a fhip-
wright, a botanift, and mechanic, than a book-
feller, a goldfmith, and a mafon will have for the
fame perfons ; they always preferring to them the
novelift, the defigner, and the architect — With
regard to ideas proper for oppofing or counte-
nancing our paflions or our tafte, we mall doubt-
lefs account thofe the moft valuable which molt
flatter thofe paflions or taftes. A woman of an
amorous complexion will place a greater value on
a romance than on a metaphyfical treatife : A
perfon of the character of Charles XII. will pre-
VOL. I. f C fer

"5,6 ATTACHMENT AND ESTEEM.

fer the hiftory of Alexander to every other work :
and, certainly, the mifer will perceive underftand-
ing only in thofe who fhall inform him where to
place his money at the higheft interefl. On the
analogy of ideas is founded alfo the ftrong attrac-
tion between perfons of genius ; that attraction
which as it were forces them to feek the ac-
quaintance of each other, notwlthftanding the
danger that often attends their intercourfe from
their common thirft of fame : hence that fure way
of judging of a perfon's temper and underfland-
ing by his choice of books and friends. The fool
has only fools for his companions : every con-
nexion of friendship, when not founded on an in-
tereft of decency, love, protection, avarice, ambi-
tion, or fome other fimilar motive, always fuppofes
between men fome refemblance of ideas or fen-
timents. It is this that brings together perfons
of very different conditions : on this account it
was that 'Auguftus, Maecenas, Scipio, Julian,
Richelieu, and Conde, lived familiarly with men
of genius ; and hence the well known proverb, the
truth of which is confirmed by its frequent ufe,
Show me your company, and I "will Jho-w you the
man. — Thus the analogy or conformity of ideas
is to be confidered as the attractive and repulfiv*
force which feparates men or draws them nearer
to one another. The defire of efteem is common
t» all men ; though fome, to the pleafure of be-
ing

ATTACHMENT AND ESTEEM. 27

kig admired, will add the merit' of contemning
admiration : but this contempt is not real, the
perfon admired never thinking the admirer ftupid.
Now if all men are fond of efteem, every one
knowing from experience that his ideas will ap-
pear eftimable or contemptible to others only
as they agree or clafh with their own ; the confe-
quence is, that, fwayed by vanity, every one can-
not help efteeming in others a conformity of ideas,-
which allure him of their efteem; and hating in
them an oppofition of ideas, as a certain indica-
tion of their hatred, or at leaft of their contempt,
which is to be confidered as a corrective of hatred.
— How can we forbear having the higheft ideas
of ourfelves ? Every man changes his opinions as
foon as he believes that thofe opinions are falfe.
Every one therefore believes that he thinks juftly,
and confequently much better than thofe whofe
ideas are contrary to his own. Now, if there are
not two men who think exactly alike, it muft ne-
ceflarily follow, that each in particular believes
that his fentiments are more juft than thofe en-
tertained by all the reft of mankind. The Du-
chefs de la Ferte faid one day to Madam de Stahl,
" I muft confefs, my dear friend, that I find no-
" body always in the right but myfelf." Let us
hear the Talopins, the Bonzes, the Bramins, the
Guebrea, the Imans, and the Marabouts, when
they preach againfl each other in the afiembly o£
C 2 the

iS ATTACHMENT AND ESTEEM.

the multitude, does not each of them fay, like the
Duchefs cle la Ferte, Ye people, I affure you that
I alone am always in the right ? Each then be-
lieves that he has a fuperior underftanding; and
the fools are not the perfons who are the leaft
fenfible of it. — Our efteem is fo dependent on this
conformity of ideas, that nobody can attentively
examine himfelf without perceiving that in all
the minutes of a day he does not afford the fame
perfon exactly the fame degree of efteem. Thus
we fee the reafon why people form themfelves into
different focieties : there is fcarcely a man fo ftu-
pid, but if he pays a certain attention to die choice
of his company, may fpend his life amidft a
concert of praifes uttered by fincere admirers ;
while there is not a man of fenfe who, if he pro-
mifcuoufly joins indifferent companies, will not
be fucceffively treated as a fool and a wife man,
as agreeable and tirefome, as ftupid and a man
of genius. HELVETIUS.

THE ORIGIN OF THE INFERIORITY or
ANIMALS TO MAN.

I. ALL the feet of animals terminate either in
horn, asthofe of the ox and the deer; or in nails,
as thofe of the dog and the wolf ; or in claws, as
thofe of the lion and the cat. Now this different
organifation of the feet of animals from that of our

hands,

ANIMALS. 29

hands, deprives them, as Mr Buffon a/Terts, not
only of all claim to the fenfe of the touch, but alfo
of the dexterity requifite in handling an inftru-
mentj in order to make any of the difcoveries
which fuppofe the ufe of hands. — 2. The life of
animals, in general, being of a fhorter duration
than that of man, neither permits them to make
fo many obfervations, nor confequently to acquire
fo many ideas. — 3. Animals being better armed
and better clothed by nature than the human fpe-
cies, have fewer wants, and confequently ought
to have lefs invention. If the voracious animals
are more cunning than others, itisbecaufe hunger,
ever inventive, infpires them with the art of form-
ing ftratagems to furprife their prey. — 4. The ani-
mals compofe only a fociety that flies from man;
who by the afllftance of weapons made by himfelf,
is become formidable to the ftrongeft among the»:n.
— Befides, man is the mod fruitful animal upon
earth : He is born and lives in every climate ;
while many of the other animals, as the lion, the
elephant, and the rhinoceros, are found only in a
certain latitude: And the more a fpecies of ani-
mals capable of making obfervations is multiplied,
the more ideas and genius it pofiefTes — But fome
may afk, why monkeys, whofe paws are nearly as
dexterous as our hands, do not make a progrefs
equal to that of man ? Becaufe they are inferior
to him in feveral refpeclsj becaufe men are more
C 3 rnul-

3» . ANIMALS.

multiplied on the earth ; becaufe, among the dif-
ferent fpecies of monkeys, there are but few
whofe ftrength can be compared to that of man;
becaufe the monkeys being frugivorous, have fewer
•wants, and therefore lefs invention than man ; be-
caufe their life is fhorter, and they form only a fu-
gitive fociety with regard to man, and fuch animals
as the tyger, die lion, &c.; and, finally, becaufe
the organical difpofition of their body, keeps
them, like children, in perpetual motion, even after
their defires are fatisfied. Monkeys are not fuf-
ceptible of laffitude •, which ought to be confidered
as one of the principles of the perfection of the
human mind — By combining all thefe differences
between the nature of man and beaft, we may
underftan-d why fenfibility and memory, though
faculties common to man and other animals, are
in the latter only fterile faculties — If nature, in-
ftead of hands and flexible fingers, had termi-
nated our wrift with the foot of a horfe, man-
kind would doubtlefs have been totally deftitute
of art, habitation, and defence againft other ani-
mals. Wholly employed in the care of procuring
food, and av'oiding the beafts of prey, they would
have ftill continued wandering in the forefts like
fugitive flocks. It is therefore evident, that ac-
cording to this hypothefis the police would never
have been carried in any fociety to that degree of
perfection to which it is now arrived. There is

not

ANIMALS. 3 f

not a nation now exifting, but, with regard to the
a£lion of the mind, mud have continued very
inferior to certain favage nations, who have not
two hundred different ideas, nor two hundred
words to exprefs thofe ideas ; and whofe language
muft confequently be reduced, like that of ani-
mals, to five or fix different founds or cries, if we
take from it the words bow, arrow, nets, &c.
which fuppofe the ufe of hands. From whence
I conclude, that without a certain exterior orga-
nifation, fenfibility and memory in us would
prove two fterile faculties. HELVE TI us.

THE REASON OF ANIMALS.

IT feems evident, that animals as weH as men
learn many things from experience, and infer
that the fame events will follow from the fame
caufes. By this principle they become acquainted
with the more obvious properties of external ob-
jecls, and gradually, from their birth, treafu-re up
a knowledge of the nature of fire, water, earth,
ftones, heights, depths, &c. and of the effects which
refult from their operation. The ignorance and
inexperience of the young are here plainly diflin-
guifhable from the cunning and fagacity of the
old, who have learned, by long obfervation, to
avoid what hurts them, and to purfue what gives
eafc and pleafure. A horfe accuflomed to the

field

32 ANIMAL?.

field will not attempt what exceeds his force or
ability. An old greyhound will truft the more
fatiguing part of the chace to the younger, and
will place himfelf fo as to meet the hare in her
doubles ; this fagacity is founded on obfervatiou

and experience. This is (till more evident

from the effects of difcipline and education on
animals ; who, by the proper application of re*-
wards and punimments, may be taught any courfe
of action moft contrary to their natural inftincls
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 experience which makes him anfwer to
his name ? It is cuftom alone which engages ani-
mals, from every object that ftrikes their fenfes,
to infer its ufual attendant, and carries their ima-
gination from the appearance of one to expect

the other But though animals learn much of

their knowledge from obfervation, they derive
alfo much from the original hand of nature;
which greatly exceeds their {hare of capacity on
ordinary occafions, and in which they improve
little or nothing by the longeft practice and ex-
perience. Thefc we call inftinfts.

HUME.

FREE

ARTS AND SCIENCES. 32

FREE GOVERNMENTS ALONE FAVOUR ABLE TO
THE RISE OF THE ARTS AND SCIENCES.

THOUGH a republic fhould be barbarous, it
neceflarily, by an infallible operation, gives rife to
law, even before mankind have made any con-
fiderable advances in the other fciences. From
law arifes fecurity; from fecurity curiofity; and
from curiofity knowledge. The latter fteps of
this progrefs may be more accidental : but the
former are altogether neceflary. A republic with-
out laws can never have any duration. On the
contrary, in a monarchical government, law arifes
not neceflarily from the forms of government.
Monarchy, when abfolute, contains even fome-
thing repugnant to law. Great wifdom and
reflection can alone reconcile them. But fuch
a degree of wifdom can never be expected, before
the great refinements of human reafon. Thefe
refinements require curiofity, fecurity, and law.
The firft growth, therefore, of the arts and
fciences can never be expected in defpotic go-
vernments.— — There are other canfes which
difcourage the rife of the refined arts in defpotic
governments ; though the want of laws, and the
delegation of full powers to every petty magiftrate,
feem to be the principal. Eloquence certainly
fprings up more naturally in popular govern-
ments : emulation, too, in every accomplishment,

muft

34 ARTS IND SCIENCES.

muft there be more animated and enlivened;,-
and genius and capacity have a fuller fcope and
career. All thefe caufes render free governments
the only proper nurfery for the arts and fciences.

HUME,-

ASSASSINATION OF PRINCES.

THE maxim, which forbids aflaffination in
every cafe whatever, is the refult of prudent
reflection, and has a tendency to allay the jea-
loufy, and to mitigate the cruelty, of perfons who,
by violent ufurpations which laws cannot re-
ftrain, have incurred the refentment of mankind.
Even tyrants, it is fuppofed, are cruel from fear,
and become merciful in proportion as they believe
themfelves fecure : it were unwife, therefore, to
entertain maxims which keep the powerful in a
continual Hate of diflruft and alarm. This pru-
dential morality, however, was entirely unknown
in die ancient republics, or could not be obferved
without furrendering the freedom for which the
citizens contended. Amongft them the people
were obliged to confider, not what was fafe, but
what was neceiTaryj and could not always de-
fend themfelves againil ufurpations, neither by
kgal forms, nor by open war. It was thought
allowable, therefore, to employ artifice, furprife,
and feeret confpiracy, againil: an ufurper. And this

was

As si SSI-NATION. 35

\vas fo much the cafe at Rome, that no names were
held in greater veneration than thofe of citizens
who had aflaflinated perfons fufpe&ed of views
dangerous to the commonwealth, or who by any
means whatever rendered abortive the projects
of adventurers who attempted to arm any party
againft the legal conftitution of their country.
The facrifice of Csefar to the juft indignation of
his country, was a ftriking example of what the
arrogant have to fear in trifling with the feelings
of a free people; and at the fame time a leflbn
of jealoufy and of cruelty to tyrants, or an admoni-
tion not to fpare in the exercife of their power
thofe whom they have infulted by ufurping it.

FERGUSON.

ASSENT DERIVED FROM TESTIMONY AND
EXPERIENCE

IN things that happen indifferently, as that a
bird fliould fly this or that way, that it fhould
thunder on a man's right or left hand, &c. when
any particular matter of fact is vouched by the con-
current teftimony of unfufpecled witnefles, there
our afient is unavoidable. Thus, that there is fuch
a city in Italy as Rome ; that about one thoufand
feven hundred years ago, there lived in it a man
called Julius Caefar ; that he was a general, and
that. he won a battle againft another called Porn-

pey

3<> ASSENT.

pey ; this, though in the nature of the thing there
be nothing for nor againft it, yet being related by
hiftorians of credit, and contradi&ed by no one
xvriter, a man cannot avoid believing it; and can
as little doubt of it, as he does of the being and
actions of his own acquaintance, whereof he him-
felf is a witnefs.

Thus far the matter goes on eafy enough.
Probability upon fuch grounds carries fo much
evidence with it, that it naturally determines
the judgment, and leaves us as little liberty to
believe or difbelieve, as a demonftration does,
whether we will know or be ignorant. The
difficulty is when teftimonies contradict common
experience, and the reports of hiftory and wit-
nefles clam with the ordinary courfe of nature,
or with one another •, there it is, where diligence,
attention and exactnefs are required, to form a
right judgment, and to proportion the aflent to
the different evidence and probability of the
thing ; which rifes and falls according as thofe
two foundations of credibility, viz. common ob-
fervation in like cafes, and particular teftimonies
in that particular inftance, favour or contradict
it. Thefe are liable to fo great a variety of con-
trary obfervations, circumftances, reports, diffe-
rent qualifications, tempers, defigns, overfights,
&c. of the reporters, that it is impoflible to re-
duce into precifc rules die various degrees where-
3 »a

ASSENT. $7

in men give their aflent. This only may be faid in
general, that as the arguments and proofs for and
againft, upon due examination, nicely weighing
every particular circumftance, {hall to any one
appear, upon the whole matter, in a greater or
lefs degree to preponderate on either fide ; fo
they are fitted to produce in the mind fuch
different entertainments, as we call belief, con-
jecture, guefs, doubt, wavering, diftruft, dif-
belief, &c. LOCKE.

ASSENT TO BE REGULATED BY THE
GROUND OF PROBABILITY.

THE grounds of probability, as they are the
foundations on which our aflent is built, fo arc
they alfo the meafure whereby its feveral degrees
are, or ought to be, regulated: only we are to
take notice, that whatever grounds of probability
there may be, they yet operate no farther on the
mind, which fearches after truth, and endeavours
to judge right, than they appear ; at leaft in the
firft judgment or fearch that the mind makes.
I confefs, in the opinions men have and firmly
"flick to in the world, their aflent is not always
from an a£tual view of the reafons that at firft pre-
vailed with them : it being in many cafes almofl
impoffible, and in moft very hard, even for thofe
who have very admirable memories, to retain a!4

VOL. I, D f tfcc

3$ ASSENT.

the proofs which upon a due examination made
them embrace that fide of the queftion. It fuf-
fices that they have once with care and fairnefs
fifted the matter as far as they could j and that
they have fearched into all the particulars that
they could imagine to give any light to the queftion,
and with the beft of their Ikill caft up the account
upon the whole evidence: and thus having once
found on which fide the probability appeared to
them, after as full and exact an inquiry as they
can make, they lay up their conclulion in their
memories, as a truth they had difcovered ; and for
the future they remain fatisfied with the teftimony
of their memories, that this is the opinion, that
by the proofs they have once feen of it deferves
fuch a degree of their aflent as they afford it.

This is all that the greateft part of men are ca-
pable of doing in regulating their opinions and
judgment; unlefs a man will exact of them, either
to retain diftinttly in their memories all the proofs
concerning any probable truth, and that too in
the fame order and regular deduction of confe-
quences in which they have formerly placed or
feen them ; which fometimes is enough to fill a
large volume on one fingle queftion : or elfe they
muft require a man, for every opinion that he
embraces, every day to examine the proofs : both
which are impofiible. It is unavoidable, therefore,
ihal the memory be relied on in the cafe, and

that

ASSENT. 39

that men be perfuaded of feveral opinions, v.-here-
of the proofs are not actually in their thoughts ;
nay, which perhaps they are not able actually
to recall. Without this the greateft part of men
muft be either very fceptics, or change every
moment, and yield themfelves up to whoever, ha-
ving lately ftudieJ the queflion, offers them ar-
guments, which, for want of memory, they are
net able prefently to anfwer.

I cannot but own, that mens flicking to their,
part judgment, and adhering firmly to conclufions
formerly made, is often the caufe of great obfti-
nacy in error and miftake. But the fault is not
that they rely on their memories for what they
have before well judged; but becaufe they judged
before they had well examined. May we not
find a great number (not to fay the greateft part)
of men that think they have formed right judg*
ment of feveral matters ; and that for no other
reafon, but becaufe they never thought otherwife ?
•who imagine themfelves to have judged right,
only becaufe they never queftioned, never exami-
ned their own opinion ? which is indeed to think
they judged right, becaufe they never judged at all:
and yet thefe of all men hold their opinion with
the greateft fliffnefs; thofe being generally the
moft fierce and firm in their tenets who have leaft
examined them. What we once know, we are
certain is fo : and we may be fecurev that there
D 2 are

4» ASSOCIATION OF IDEIS.

are no latent proofs undifcovered, which may
overturn our knowledge or bring it in doubt.
But in matters of probability, it is not in. every
«afe we can be fure that we have all the. particu-
lars before us that any way concern the queftion •,
and that there is no evidence behind, and yet un-
feen, which may caft the probability on the other
fide, and outweigh all that at prefent feem to pre-
ponderate with us. LOCKE.

ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.

THE affociation of ideas is the cement which
unites the fabric of the human intellect ; without
which, pleafure and pain would be fimple and
ineffectual fenfations. The vulgar, that is, all
men who have no general ideas or univerfal prin-
ciples, act in confequence of the mod immediate
and familiar aflbciations: but the more remote
and complex only prefent themfelves to the minds
of thofe who are paffionately attached to a finglc
object; or to thofe of greater underflanding,
who have acquired an habit of rapidly comparing
together a number of objects, and of forming a
conclufion j and the refult, that is, the action in
confequence, by thefe means becomes lefs dan-
gerous and uncertain. BECCARIA.

ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.- 4*

A GENERAL VIEW OF HARTLEY^ DOCTRINE
OF ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.

THE mechanical aflbciation of ideas that has
been frequently prefented to the mind at the
fame time, was firft noticed by Mr Locke ; but
he had recourfe to it only to explain thofe fym-
pathies and antipathies which he calls unnatural^
in oppofition to thofe which, he fays, are born
with us ; and he refers, them to trains of motion
in the animal fpirits.

It appeared probable to Hartley, who took the
hint firft from Locke, that not only all our in-
tellectual pleasures and pains, but all the pheno-
mena of memory, imagination, volition, reafoning,
and every other mental Direction and operation, aje
only different modes and cafes of the aiTociation
of ideas : fo that nothing is*equifite to make any
man whatever he is, but a fentient principle,
with this fingle property (which admits of great
variety), and the influence of fuch circumftances •

as he has actually been expofed to. In order

to fee the poffibility of Hartleys theory of the
mind, we mull obferve, that all the phenomena
of the mind muft be reduced to the faculties of
memory, judgment, the pajfims and the will, to
which may be added the power of mu/cular motion.

Suppofmg the human mind to have acquired

a flock of ideas by means of the external fenfes,.,
JD 3 smd

rjj2 ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.

and that thefe ideas have been varioufly aflbciated
together, fo that when one of them is prefent, ft
will introduce fuch others as it has the neareft
connexion with and relation to; nothing more
feems neceflary to explain the phenomena of me-
mory. For we have no power of calling up any
idea at pleafure, but only recollect fuch as have
a connection, by means of former aflbciations,
with thofe that are at any time prefent to the
mind. Thus the fight, or the idea, of any parti-
cular perfon, generally fuggefts the idea of his
name, becaufe they have been frequently aflbci-
ated together. If that fail to introduce the name,,
•we are at a lofs, and cannot recollect it at. all, till
fome other aflbciated circumftance help us. In
naming a number of words or lines in a poem^
the end of each preceding, word being connected
•with the beginning of the fucceeding one, we can
tafily repeat them in that order ; but we are not
able to repeat them backwards, till they have
been frequently named in that contrary order.
By this means, however, vte acquire a facility of
doing it, as may be found by the names of num-
bers from one to twenty. In the wildeft flights of
fancy, it is probable that no fmgle idea occurs
to us but fuch as had a connection with fome
other impreflion or idea previouily exifting in
the mind ; and what we call new thoughts, are

only

ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 43

only new combinations of old fimple ideas, or de-
compofitions of complex ones.

Judgment is nothing more than the perception
of the univerfal concurrence or the perfect coin-
cidence of two ideas, or the want of that concur-
rence and coincidence ; as, that milk is -white ;
that twice tivo is four ; or transferring the idea
of truth by aflbciation from one propofition to
another that refembles it.

When we fay that Alexander conquered Darius,
we mean, that the perfon whom we diftinguifh
by the name of Alexander, is the fame with him
who conquered Darius; and when we fay that Cod
is goody we mean, that the perfon whom we diftin-
guifh by the name of God, appears, by his works
and conduct to be poflefled of the fame difpofi-
tion that we call good or benevolent in men.
And having attained to the knowledge of general
truths^ the idea or feeling which accompanies the
perception of truth, is transferred by aflbciation
to all the particulars which are comprifed under
it, and to other proportions that are analogous
to it; having found by experience, that when we
have formed fuch conclufions, we have not been
deceived.

When we fay that any idea or clrcumftance
excites a particular pajfiw, it is explained by ob-
ferving, that certain feelings and emotions have
been formerly conne&ed with that particular idea

or

44 ASSOCIATION OF IDEA?.

cr circumftance, which it has the power of re-
calling by aflbciation. Tims, with refpect to the
pafiion oifear, it is evident to obfervation, that a
child is unacquainted with any fuch thing till
it has received feme hurt ; upon which the pain-
ful idea, left in the mind by the remembrance of
the hurt, becomes affociated with the idea of the
circumftances in which he received the hurt-, and
by degrees with that circumftance only which is
eflential to it, and which he therefore confiders as
the proper caufe of his hurt. If a variety of
painful emotions and difagreeable feelings have
been aiTociated with the idea of the fame circum- -
fiance, they will all be excited by it in one ge-
neral complex emotion, the component p.irts of
which will not be e?.fily diftinguifhable ; and by
their mutual aflbciations they will at length en-
tirely coalefce, fo as never to be feparately per-
ceived.; A child has no fear of fire till he has

been burnt by it, or of a dog rill he has been bit by
one, or without having had reafon to think that a
dog would bite him, and having feme notion from
things of a fimilar nature what the bite of a
dog is. In like manner, the pafficm of kve is ge-
nerated by the affociation of agreeable circum-
ftances with the idea of the object v/hich e-xcites
k. And all our other pa/lions are only modifica-
tions of thefe general ones of/ear or /ove, varying
vith the fituaticn of the objecl of fear or love

\vitlr

ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 4$

with refpecl: to us, as whether it be near or di-
ftant, expected or unexpected, &c.

According to this hypothefis, all our paffions
are at firft inter efted^ refpecting our own plea-
fures or pains ; and this fufficiently agrees with
our obfervation : and they become difinterefted
when thefe complex emotions are transferred by
aflbciation to other perfons or things. Thus the
child loves his nurfe or parent, by corme&ing with
the idea of them the various pleafures which he
has received from them, or in their company:
but having received the moil happinefs from
them, or with them, when they themfelves were
cheerful and happy, he begins to defire their
happinefs ; and in time it becomes as much an ob-
ject with him as his own proper happinefs.

The natural progrefs of a paffion may be moft
diftinctly feen in that of the love cf money ; which
is acquired fo late in life, that every ftep in the
progrefs may be eafily traced. No perfon is born
with the love of money as fuch. A child is in-
deed pleafed with a piece of coin, as he is with
other things, the form or the fplendor of which
ftrikes his eyej but this is very different from that
emotion which a man who has been accuftomed
to the ufe of money, and has known the want of
it, feels upon being prefented with a guinea or a
{hilling. This emotion is a very complex one ;
the component parts of which are diftinguifliable,

but

46 ASSOCIATION or IDEAS.

but wluch have all been feparately connected
with the idea of money and the ufes of it. For
after a child has received the firft fpecies of plea-
fure from a piece of money, as a mere play-t hing>
he receives additional pleafure from the poiTeiTion
of it, by connecting with the idea of it the idea of
the various pleafures and advantages which ir is able
to procure him. And in time, that complex idea
of pleafure, which was originally formed of the
Tarious pleafures which it was the means of pro-
curing, is fo intimately connected with the idea of
money, that it becomes an object of a proper paf-
fion; fo that men are capable of purfuing it, with-
out ever reflecting on any ufe that it may poflibly
be of to them.

A volition is a modification of the paflion of
de/tre^ exclufive of any tumultuous emotion which
the idea of a favourite object not pofleiled may
excite; and it is generally followed by thofe ac-
tions with which that ftate of mind has been afTb-
ciated, in confequence of thofe actions having
been found by experience to be inftrumental in
bringing the favourite object into our pofleflion.

At firft a child ftretches out his hand, and per-
forms the motion of grafping^ without any par-
ticular intentfon, whenever the palm of his hand
is irritated, or by any general ftimulus which
puts the whole mufcular fyftem into motion.
But play-things being put into his hand, and it

clofing

ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 47

clofing upon them, he learns by degrees to ftretch
forth his hand, as well as to grafp any thing.
At length the action becomes familiar, and is in-
timately aflbciated with a fight of a favourite ob-
ject ; fo that the . moment it is perceived, the
actions of reaching and grafping immediately and
mechanically fucceed. Any perfon who has been
accuftomed to obferve the actions of children,
muft have frequently feen all the fteps of this pro-
cefs; and in a fimilar manner, it may be conceived
that we learn to procure the gratification of all
our defires.

There is nothing that has more the appearance
of inftinft than the motions of particular mufcles
in certain circumflances ; and yet there is hardly
one of them that Hartley has not in a manner de-
monftrated to have been originally automatic;
the mufcles being firft forced to contract invo-
luntarily, and becoming afterwards alTociated with
the idea of the circumftance, fo that the one im-
mediately and mechanically follows the other. -
What can be more inftantaneous, and have more
the appearance of inftinct, than the endeavour of
all animals to recover the equilibrium of their
bodies when they are in danger of falling; yet
children have it not, but acquire it gradually and
flowly. The fame is the cafe of the action of
fucking, and the motion of the eye-lids when any
thing approaches the eye. This afTociation, how-
ever,

4* ASSOCIATION o* IDEAS.

ever, grows fo firm in a courfe of years, that it
is hardly pofllble to counteract it by the moft de-
termined refolution when we are grown up j
though you may bring any thing ever fo near,
and ever fo fuddenly, to the eye of a young child,
when it is moft perfectly awake, without exciting
any motion in the eye-lids.

In fine, we muft admire the fimplicity of na-
ture, and the provifion for the growth of all the
faj/ions and propenfities juft as they are wanted,
and in the degree in which they are wanted
through life: All is performed by the general
difpofition of the mind to conform to its circum-
(lances, and to be modified by them without parti-
cular inftincts. PRIESTLEY.

ASSURANCE.

WHERE any particular thing, confonant to the
conftant obfervation of ourfelves and others in the
like cafe, comes attefted by the concurrent report*
of all that mention it, we receive it as eafHy, and
build as firmly upon it, as if it were certain
knowledge; and we reafon and a£l thereupon
with as little doubt as if it were perfect demon-
ftration. Thus if all Englimmen, who have oc-
cafion to mention it, fhould affirm that it froze
in England the laft winter, or that there were
iWallows feen there in the fummer ; I think a
3 man

ASSURANCE. 49

could almoft as little doubt of it as that feven
and four are eleven. The firft, therefore, and
higheft degree of probability, is, when the general
confent of all men, in all ages, as far as it can be
known, concurs with a man's conflant and never-
failing experience in like cafes, to confirm the
truth of any particular matter of facl: attefted by
fair witneffes: fuch are all the dated conftitutions
and properties of bodies, and "the regular pro-
ceedings of caufes and effects in the ordinary
courfe of nature. This we call an argument
from the nature of things themfelves : For what
our own and other mens conftant obfervation has
found always to be after the fame manner, that
we with reafon conclude to be the effects of
fteady and regular caufes, though they come not
within the reach of our knowledge. Thus that
fire warmed a ma'n, made lead fluid, and changed
the colour or confiftency in wood or charcoal ;
that iron funk in water, and fwam in quickfilver :
thefe and the like propofitions about particular
facts, being agreeable to our conflant experience,
as often as we have to do with thefe matters ; and
being generally fpoken of (when mentioned by
others) as things found conflantly to be fo, and
therefore not fo much as controverted by any
body ; we are put paft doubt, that a relation
affirming any fuch thing to have been, or any
predication that it will happen again in the fame
VOL. I. f E man

5<> A-S S U RANGE.

manner, is very true. ; Thefe probabilities rife (Q
near to certainty, that they govern our thoughts
asabfolutely, and influence all our actions as fully,
as the moft evident demonftration ; and in what
concerns us, we make little or no difference be-
tween them and certain knowledge. Our belief,
thus grounded, rifes to afiurance. LOCKE.

ATHEISM.

WHY is a fociety of Atheifls thought impof-
fible ? Becaufe it is thought that men under no
reftraint could never live together ; that laws
avail nothing againft fecret crimes ; and that there
inuft be an avenging God, punifhing in this
world or the other thofe delinquents who have
efcaped human juftice. Though Mofes's law did
not reach a life to come, did not thereaten any
punifhment after death, and did not leave the
primitive Jews the leaft infight into the immorta-
lity of the foul ; ftill the Jews, fo far from bei^g
Atheifts, fo far from denying a divine vengeance
againft wickednefs, were the moft religious men
on the face of the earth. They not only be-
lieved the exiftence of an eternal God, but they
believed him to be ever prefent among them:
they dreaded being punifhed in themfelves, in
their wives, in their children, in their pofterity

to

ATHEISM. 51

to the fourth generation : and this was a very
powerful reftraint.

But among the Gentiles, feveral fe£ls had no
curb : the Sceptics doubted of every thing ; the
Epicureans held that the Deity could not concern" -
himfelf about human affairs, and in reality they
did not allow of any Deity; they were perfuaded
that the foul is not a fubftance, but a faculty
born and periming with the body; confequently

their only check was morality and honour.

The Roman fenators and knights were downright
Atheifts ; as neither to fear or expe£l any thing
from the gods, amounts to a denial of their exif-
tence: fo that the Roman fenate, in Cxfar's and
Cicero's time, was in fa£t an aflembly of Atheifts.

VOLTAIRE,

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

PLUTARCH thinks unworthy opinions of the
Deity more criminal than Atheifm. But, with fub--
miflion to Plutarch, nothing can be more evident,
than that it was infinitely better for the Greeks to
Hand in awe of Geres, Neptune, and Jupiter, than
to be under no manner of awe. The facrednefs of
oaths is manifeft and neceflary; and they who
hold that perjury will be punifhed, are certainly
more to be trufted than thofe who think that a
falfe oath will be attended with no ill confe-

quence.

52 ATHEISM..

quence. It is beyond all queftion, that in a

policed city, even a bad religion is better than

none. But fanaticifm is certainly a thoufand

times more dangerous than Atheifm: there is in
Atheifm no temptation to thofe fanguinary pro-
cedures, for which fanajicifm is notorious ; if
Atheifm do not fupprefs crimes, fanaticifm in-
cites to the commiflion of them. The fanatics

committed the mafTacre of St. Bartholomew.——
Hobbes was accounted ^n Atheift ; yet he led a
quiet harmlefs life, whilil the fanatics were de-
iuging England, Scotland, and Ireland with blood.

-. Spinofa was not only an Atheift, but taught

Atheifm : yet who can fay he had any hand in the
juridical murder of Barneveldt? It was not he
who tore the two De Witts to pieces, and broiled.

and eat their flefh. Atheiils for the moil part

are men of ftudy, but bold and erroneous in their
reafonings ; and, not comprehending the creation,
the original of evil, and other difficulties, have fe-
courfe to the hypothefis of the eternity of things

and of neceflity. The fenfualift and ambitious

have little time forfpeculation, or to embrace a bad
fyilem ; to compare Lucretius with Socrates is

quite out of their way. It was otherwife with

the fenate of Rome, which almoft totally con-
filled of Atheifts both in theory and practice, be-
lieving neither in a Providence nor a future (late.
*-» — It was a meeting of philofophers, of votaries

A" T H E I S M'. $%

of pleafurc and ambition; all very dangerous fets
of men, and who accordingly overturned die
republic. 1 would not willingly lie at the mer-
cy of an atheiftical prince, who might think It
his intereft to have me pounded in a mortar : I am

very certain that would be my fate.^ And

were I a fovereign, I would not have about me any
atheiftical courtiers, whofe intereft it 'might be to
poifonme. So neceiTary is it both for princes and
people that their minds be thoroughly imbibed
with an idea of a fupreme Being, the Creator;;
Avenger, and Re warder. What are the in-
ferences from all this ? That Atheifm is a mcfl
pernicious monfter in fovereign princes, and like-
wife in ftatefmen, however harmlefs their life bei
becaufe from their cabinet they can make their
way to the former. That if- it be not fo mifchievouS
as fanaticifm, it is almoft ever deftrudlive of vir-
tue 1 congratulate the prefent age on there

being fewer Atheifls now than ever j philofophers
having difcovered, that there is no vegetable with-
out a germ, no germ without defign, and that

corn is not produced by putrefaction. Some

unphilofophical geometricians have rejected final
caufes : but they are admitted by all real philofo-
fophers ; and, to ufe the exprefiion of a known
author, a catechifm makes God known to children^
and Newton demonftrates him to the learned.

VOLTAIRE:
E:3 ON,

54 ATHEISM.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.
/

THERE is no man of underflanding who does
not acknowledge an active power in nature..

There is, therefore, no Atheift. He is not an

Atheift who fays, that motion is God ; becaufe,
in fact, motion is incomprehenfible, as we have
no clear idea of it, as it does not manifeft itfelf
but by its effects j and, laftly, becaufe by it all

things are performed in the univerfe. He is

not an Atheift who fays, on the contrary, that
motion is not God ; becaufe motion is not a be-
ing, but a mode of being. They are no Atheifts

\vho maintain that motion is efiential to matter,
and regard it as the invilible and motive force that
ipreads itfelf through all its parts. Do we not fee
the ftars continually changing their places, and
rolling perpetually round their centre ? do we not
fee all bodies deftroyed and reproduced inceflant-
ly, under different forms ? in fliort, do we not fee
nature in an eternal fermentation and diffolution ?
— Who then can deny that motion is, like ex-
tenfion, inherent in bodies, and that motion is not
the caufe of what is ? — In fact, fays Mr Hume,
if we always give the names of caufe and effect: to
the concomitance of two facts, and conclude, that
wherever there are bodies there is motion ; we
ought then to regard motion as the univerfal foul of
matter, and the divinity that alone penetrates its

fub-

ATHEISM. £J

/ubftance. But are the philofophers of this laft
opinion Atheifls ? No : they equally acknowledge
an unknown force in the univerfe. Are even
thofe who have no ideas of God Atheifts ? No;
becaufe then all men would be fo ; becaufe no one
has a clear idea of the Divinity ; becaufe in this
cafe every obfcure idea is equal to none; and,
laftly, to acknowledge the incomprehenfibility of
God, is to fay by a different turn of expre{Iion3
that we have no idea cf him. HELVE TIUS.

ATHEISM AND SUPERSTITION.

IF fuperftition, in every degree of it, be found-
ed in error, and if it counteract the effects of
knowledge and goodnefs, it is a pcfitive and ac-
tive evil : Whereas, Atheifm being the effect,
merely of ignorance, is rather a misfortune ; and
its effects are the harmlefs ones which ufually fol-
low upon mere ignorance. The wife and able
moraliffc Plutarch faid, it was much better men
mould even difbelieve and deny the exiftence of
a God, than believe him to be ill-difpofed and of
an immoral character. All quibbles which have
been brought to obviate the confequences of this
proportion ; the appeals to prudence, expedience,
and intereft, may do very well in modern politics,
and in the fchemes of legiflators and priefts, whofe
only aim is to keep the people like cattle in thofe

tracks

tracks where they may be mod ferviceable to them*,
but will be defpifed by every one who apprehends,

and judges, and feels like a man. To fee the

difference between ignorance and error in all pof-
fible cafes, take a child totally unacquainted with
truth, and take a good old lady who is, as (he
fuppofes, juil going to heaven loaded with points
of faith and principles of religion j and you will
have proofs as many as you can wilh, as clear
and convincing as any mathematical condufions1,
of the great and important difference between ig-
norance and error. Take a favage uncorrupted
by European commerce ; take a fimple favage
who, in the compafs and variety of his knowledge,
is little above a brute ; take a religious favage*,
millions of which we may have in Europe ; and
in attempting to inftrudl both, we mail have more
convincing proofs of the very important difference
between ignorance and error. The former we
may eafily benefit ; the latter .we feldom or never
can. WILLIAMS;

THE DISPUTES BETWEEN ATHEISTS AND
THEISTS VERBAL.

I ASK theTheift, If he does not allow that there
is a great and immeafurable, becaufe an incompre-
henilble, difference between the human and Di-
vine mind ? The more pious he is, the more rea-
dily

ATHEISM. 57

<Jily- will he afient to the affirmative, and the more
he will be difpofed to magnify the difference : He
will even aflent that the difference is of a nature
which cannot be too much magnified. — I next-
turn to the Atheift, who, I affert, is only nomi-
nally fo, and can never poffibly be in earneit ;
and I afk him, Whether, from the coherence and
apparent fympathy in all the parts of the world,
there be not a certain degree of analogy among
all the operations of nature, in every fituation,
and in every age ? Whether the rotting of a tur-
nip, the generation of an animal, and the ftruc-
ture of human thought, be not energies that pro-
bably bear fome remote analogy to each other ? —
It is inipoflible he can deny it ; he will readily
acknowledge it. — Having obtained this concef-
{lon, I pufh him ftill farther in his retreat ; and
I afk him, if it be not probable that the principle
which firfl arranged, and ftill maintains order in
the univerfe, bears not alfo fome remote incon-
ceivable analogy to the other operations of na-
ture, and, among the reft, to the ceconomy of
mind and thought ?— — However relu&ant, he
rauft give hisaffent, — Where then, cry I, to both
thefe antagonifts, is the fubjecl: of your difpute ?
The Theift allows that the original principle of
order bears fome remote analogy to it. — Will you
quarrel about the degrees, and enter into a con-
troverfy which admits not of any precife mean-

58 AVARICE.

ing, nor confequently of any determination ? If
you fhould be fo obftinate, I fhould not be fur-
prifed to find you change fides : Whilft the Theift,
on the one hand, exaggerates the difiimilarity be-
t-ween the Supreme Being and frail, imperfect,
variable, fleeting, and mortal creatures ; and the
Atheift, on the other, magnifies the analogy among
all the operations of nature, in every period, every
fituation, and every pofition. - Confider then,
where the great point of controversy lies ; and if
you cannot lay afide your -difputes, endeavour at
kail to cure yourfelves of your animofity.

AVARICE.

WHEN a mifer contents himfelf with giving no-
thing, and faving what he has got, and is in other
refpefts guilty of no injuftice, he is perhaps of all
bad men the lead injurious to fociety ; the evil
he does is properly nothing more than the omiffion
of the good he might do. If, of all the vices, ava-
rice be the moft generally detefted, it is the effect:
of an avidity common to almoft all men j it is be-
caufe men hate thofe from whom they can ex-
pect nothing. The greedy mifers rail at fordid
inifers.

HELVETIUS.

THS

AT A RICE. 59

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

TH E avaricious either defire riches, as the means
of procuring pleafure, or as an exemption from
the miferies with which poverty is attended. Man,
by nature, is fenfible of no other pleafures than
thofe of the fenfes; thefe pleafures are confe-
quently the only object of his defires. A fond-
nefs for luxury is then an artificial pafiion, necef-
farily produced by the natural wants either of love
or of the pleafures of the table. Indeed, what real
pleafure can luxury and magnificence procure the
avaricious voluptuary, if he does not confider
them. as the means of obtaining the favours of
love, if they are the objects of his fondnefs; or of
impofing on men, and forcing them, by the un-
certain hope -of a reward, to remove from him
every pain, and to aflemble around him every
pleafure ? With thefe avaricious voluptuaries,
who certainly do not properly deferve to be called
covetous, avarice is the immediate effect of the
fear of pain and the love of pleafure. But it may
be aflced, How can this love of pleafure, this fear
of pain, be excited in the really avaricious, thofc
wretched mifers who never part with their money
to purchafe pleafure ? If they pafs their lives in
the want of common neceflaries, and exaggerate
to themfelves and others the pleafures annexed to
the poflefllon of gold, it is merely to divert their

at-

<&> Av AR i cfe.

attention from a misfortune which nobody can
or ought to pity. There is a furprifing contra-
diction between their conduct and the motives
from which they aft. They have an incefTant de-
fire of pleafure, and always deprive themfelres of
its enjoyment. This kind of avarice derives its
fource from an exceffive and ridiculous fear of the
poflibility of indigence, and of the many evils with
which it is accompanied. The avaricious are like
thofe afflicted with an hypochondriac melancholy,
who live in perpetual agonies, fee themfelves fui"-
rounded with dangers, and are afraid of being
crufhed by every one that approaches them. This
fpecies of the avaricious we commonly find among
thofe who were born in a ftate of indigence, and
have themfelves experienced the long train of
evils with which it is attended. Their folly is
therefore in this refpecl more pardonable than in
men born in a ftate of affluence, among whom
there are feldom found any of the avaricious, ex-
cept the proud or voluptuous. Avarice increafcs
in old age, as the habit of accumulating wealth is
no longer counterbalanced by the defire of enjoy-
ing it, which will be ftrengthened by the mecha-
nical fear of want, wherewith old age is frequently
accompanied.

HELVETIUS,

BANKRUPTCY. 6t

B.

NATIONAL BANKRUPTCY.

TT will fcarcely be aflerted, that no bounds ought
ever to be fet to national debts ; and that the
public would be no weaker, were twelve or fifteen
(hillings in the pound, land-tax, mortgaged with
the prefent cuftoms and excifes. There is, how-
ever, a ftrange fupinenefs from long cuftom
creeped into all ranks of men with regard to
public debts, not unlike what divines fo Vehe-
mently complain of with regard to their religious
do&rines. We all own, that the mod fanguine
imagination cannot hope either that this or any
future miniflry will be pofiefTed of fuch rigid and
fteady frugality, as to make a confiderable progrefs
in the payment of our debts ; or that the fituation
of foreign affairs will, for any long time, al-
low them leifure and tranquillity for fuch an un-
dertaking. What then if to become of us ? Were
we ever fo good Chriftians, and ever fo refigned
to Providence, this, methinks, were a curious
queftion, even confidered as a fpecuhtive one,
and- what it might not be altogether impoflible to
form fome conjectural folution of.

The events here will depend little upon the
contingencies of battles, negociations, intrigues,

VOL. I. F and

(Z BANKRUPTCY.

and factions. There feems to be a natural pro-
^refs in things which may guide our reafoning.
As it would have required but a moderate (hare
of prudence when we firft began this practice of
mortgaging, to have foretold, from the nature of
men and of minifters, that things would necef-
farily be carried to the length we fee ; fo now,
that they have happily reached it, it may not be
difficult to guefs at the confequences. It mufl
indeed be one of thefe two events ; either the na-
tion muft deftroy public credit, or public credit
will deftroy the nation. It is impofhble they can
both fubiift after the manner they have been hi-
therto managed in this as well as in fome otheV
countries.

It has been computed, that all the creditors of
the public, natives and foreigners, amount only to
17000. Thefe make a figure at prefent on their
income ; but in cafe of a public bankruptcy,
would in an inftant become the lowed, as well as
the moft wretched, of the people. The dignity
and authority of the landed gentry and nobility is
much better rooted, and would render the con-
tention very unequal if ever we come to that ex-
tremity. One would incline to affign to this
event a very near period, fuch as half a century,
had not our fathers prophecies of this kind been
found fallacious by the duration of our public
credit fo much beyond all reafonable expecta-
tion.

BANKRUPTCY. 63

tioru When the aftrologers in France were
every year foretelling the death of Henry IV.
" Thefe fellows," fays he, " muft be right at
" laft." But, however, it is not altogether im-
probable, that, when the nation become heartily
lick of their debts, and are cruelly opprefled by
them, fome daring projector may arife witli vi-
fionary fchemes for their difcharge. And as pub-
lic credit will begin by that time to be a little
frail, the lead touch will deftroy it, as happened
in France during the regency ; and in this man-
ner it will die of the defter-

But it is more probable that the breach of na-
tional faith will be the neceflary efte£t of wars,
defeats, misfortunes, and public calamities j OP
even, perhaps, of viftories and conquefts. Let
the time come, and furely it will come, when the
new funds, created for the exigences of the year,
are not fubfcribed to, and raife not the money
projected. Suppofe, either that the cafh of the
nation is exhaufted, or that our faith, which has
been hitherto fo ample, begins to fail us. Sup-
pofe that in this diftrefs the nation is threatened
with an invafion ; a rebellion is fufpecled or
broken out at home ; a fquadron cannot be equip-
ped for want of pay, victuals, or repairs ; or
even a foreign fubfidy cannot be advanced. What
muft a prince ot minifter do in fuch an emer-
gence ? The right of felf-prefervation is unalien-
" F * able

64 BANKRUPTCY.

able in every individual, much more in every
community. And the folly of our ftatefmen muft
be greater than the folly of thofe who contracted
the debt, or, what is more, than the folly of thofe
who trufted or continue to truft this fecuriry, if
thefe ftatefmen have the means of fafety in their
hands, and do not employ them. The funds
created and mortgaged will, by that time, bring
in a large yearly revenue, fufEcient for the de-
fence and fecurity of the nation. Money is,
perhaps, lying in the exchequer, ready for the
difcharge of the quarterly intereft : Neceffity calls,
fear urges, reafon exhorts, companion alone ex-
claims. The money will immediately be feized
for the current fervice, under the mod folemn
proteftations, perhaps, of being immediately re-
placed. But no more is requifite. The whole
fabric, already tottering, falls to the ground, and
buries thoufands in its ruins. And this is called
the natural death of public credit: for to this
period it tends as naturally as an animal body to
its diflblution and deftruction — The public is a
debtor whom no man can oblige to pay. The
only check which the creditors have on her, is the
intereft of prefevving credit j an intereft which
may eafily be overbalanced by a great debt, and
by a difficult and extraordinary emergence, even
fuppofmg that credit irrecoverable. Not to men-
tion that a prefent neceffity often forces ftates

into

E A N K R U P T C T, 6£

into mesfures which are, itrictly fpeaking, againft
their intereft.

Thofe two events fuppofed above are calamitous,
but not the mod calamitous. Thoufands are
hereby facrificed to the fafety of millions. But
we are not without danger, that the contrary
event may take place, and that millions may be
facrificed for ever to the temporary fafety of
thoufands. Our popular government, perhaps,
will render it difficult and dangerous for a minifter
to venture on fo defperate an expedient as that
of a voluntary bankruptcy. And though the
Houfe of Lords be altogether compofed of the
proprietors of lands, and the Houfe of Commons
chiefly, and confequently neither of them can
be fuppofed to have great property in the funds j
yet the connections of the members may be fo
great with the proprietors, as to render them
more tenacious of public faith than prudence,
policy, or even juftice, ftriclily fpeaking, requires.
And perhaps our foreign enemies may be fo
politic as to difcover- that our fafety lies in de-
fpair, and may not, therefore, fiiow the danger,
open and barefaced, till it be inevitable. The
balance of power in Europe, our grandfathers,
our fathers, and we, have all efteemed too un-
equal to be preferved without our attention and*
afliftance. But our children, weary with the
Ihuggle, and fettered with incumbrances, may. fit
F 3 down*

$6 BANKRUPTCY.

down fecure, and fee their neighbours opprefled
and conquered ; till at laft they themfelves and
their creditors lie both at the mercy of the con-
queror. And this may be demonftrated the vio-
lent death of our public credit. — Thefe feem to
be events which are not very remote, and which
reafon forefees as clearly almoft as (he can do any
thing that lies in the womb of time. HUME.

BEASTS,

IS it poffible any one fhould fay, or affirm in
•writing^ that beads are machines void of know-
ledge and fenfe, have a famenefs in all their ope-
rations, neither learning nor perfecting any thing,
&c. ? How! this bird who makes a femicircular
neft when he fixes it againft a wall j who, when
in an angle, fliapes it like a quadrant, and circu-
lar when he builds it in a tree ; is this having a
famenefs in its operations? Does this hound,
after three months teaching, know no more than
when you firft took him in hand ? Your Canary-
bird, does he repeat a tune at firft hearing? or
rather, is it not fome time before you can bring
him to it ? Is he not often out, and does he not
improve by practice ? — Is it from my fpeaking
that you allow me fenfe, memory, and ideas ?
Well; I am filent; but you fee me come home
very melancholy, and with eager anxiety look for

BEASTS. 6f

a paper, open the bureau where I remember to
have put it, take it up and read it with apparent
joy. You hence infer, that I have felt pain and
pleafure, and that I have memory and knowledge.
Make then the like inference concerning this
dog, who, having loft his mafter, runs about every
where -with melancholy yellings, comes home all
in ferment, runs up and down, roves from room
to room, till at length he finds his beloved mafter
in his clofet, and then exprefles his joy in fofter
cries, gefticulations and fawnings. — This dog, fo
very fuperior to man in affettion, is feized by
fome barbarian virtuofos, who nail him down on,
a table, and diflecl him while living, the better to
(how you the meferaic veins. All the fame organs
of fenfation which are in yourfelf you perceive
in him. Now, machinift, what fay you? Has
henerves to be impaflible? For fhame ! charge not
nature with fuch weaknefs -and inconfiftency. —
But the fcholaftic doctors afk what the foul of
beafts is ? This is a queftion I do not underftand.
A tree has the faculty of receiving fap into its
fibres, of circulating it, of unfolding the buds of
its leaves and fruits. Do you now afk me what
the foul of a tree is ? It has received thefe pro-
perties, as the animal above has received thofe of
fenfation, memory, and a certain number of ideas..
Who formed all thofe properties, who has im-
parted all thefe faculties ? He who caufes the

grafs.

63 BEASTS.

grafs of the field to grow, and the earth to gravi-
tate towards the fun.- — The fouls of beafts are fub-
ftantial forms, fays Ariftotle, the Arabian fchool,
the Angelic fchool, and the Sorbonne. — The fouls
of beafts are material, cry other philofophersj but
as little to the purpofe as the former. When called
upon^o define a material foul, they only perplexthe
caufe : they mult neceffarily allow it to be fenfi-
tive matter. But from whence does it derive
this fenfation ? From a material foul ; which
muft mean, that it is matter giving fenfation to
matter: beyond this circle they have nothing to
fay. According to others equally wife, the foul
of beafts is a fpiritual eflence dying with the
body: but where are your proofs? What idea
have you «f this fpiritual being, which with its
fenfation, memory,, and its mare of ideas and
combinations, will never be able to know fo much
as a child of lix years ? What grounds have you
to think that this incorporeal being dies with the
body ? But (lill more ftupid are they who affirm
this foul to be neither body nor fpirit. By fpirit
we can mean only fome thing unknown, which
is not body; the foul of beafts, therefore, accord-
ing to this fyftem, is neither body, nor fomething
which is not body. — Whence can fo many con-
tradiclory errors arife ? From a cuftom, which has
always prevailed among men, of invefligating the
nature of a thing before they knew whether any

fuch

BEASTS. 69

fuch thing exifted. The fucker or clapper of a
bellows is likewife called the foul of the bellows.
Well, what is the foul ? It is only a name I have
given to that fucker or clapper, which falls down,
lets in air, and, rifing again, propels it through
a pipe on my working the bellows — Here is no
foul diftincl: from the machine itfelf ; but who
puts the bellows of animals in motion ? I have
already told you ; he who puts the heavenly bodies
in motion. The philofopher who faid, eft Deus
anima brutorum fliould have added, Quod Deus
eft anima mundi. VOLTAIRE.

BEAUTY AND BEAUTIFUL.

ASK a negro of Guinea, What is beauty, the
fupremely beautiful, .the ™ *«M»V? he will anfwer
you, A greafy black fkin, hollow eyes, and a flat
nofe.

Confult the philofophers, they will tell you
fome unintelligible jargon for anfwer; they muft
have fomething correfpondent to beauty in the
abftraft.

I once fat next to a philofopher at a tragedy.
That is beautiful, faid he ! How beautiful ? laid I.
Becaufe the author has attained his end* The
next day he took a dofe of phyfic, which had a
very good efle£h That is a beautiful phyfic, faid
I, it has attained its end. He perceived that a

70 BEAUTY.

medicine is not to be called beautiful, and that the
word beauty is applicable only to thofe things
which give a pleafure accompanied with admira-
tion : that tragedy, he faid, had excited thefe
two fenfations in him, and that was the T<>-xaxov.
• — We went to England together, and happened
to be at the fame play, perfectly well tranflated;
but the fpettators one and all yawned. He then
concluded that beauty is very relative; that what
is decent at Japan is indecent at Rome; and what
is fafhionable at Paris is ctherwife at Pekin.

VOLTAIRE.

A COGITATIVE BEING HAS EXISTED FROM
ETERNITY.

THERE is no truth more evident, than that
fomething inuft be from eternity. I never yet
heard of any one fo unreafonable, or that could
fuppofe fo manifeft a contradiction, as a time
wherein there was perfectly nothing : this being
of all abfurdities the greateft, to imagine that pure
nothing, the perfect negation and abfence of all
beings, fhould ever produce any real exiftence.

If then there muft be fomething eternal, let us
fee what fort of being it muft be. And to that,
it is very obvious to reafon, that it muft necefla-
rily be a cogitative being. For it is as impoflible
to conceive, that ever bare incogitative matter

fhould

BEING. 71

fhould produce a thinking intelligent being, as
that nothing fhould of itfelf produce matter.
Let us fuppofe any parcel of matter eternal,
great or fmall, we fhall find it, in itfelf, able
to produce nothing. For example, let us fup-
pofe the matter of the next pebble we meet with
to be eternal, clofely united, and the parts firmly
at reft together ; if there were no other being in
the world, muft it not eternally remain fo, a
dead inactive lump ? Is it poflible to conceive
it can add motion to itfelf, being purely matter,
or produce any thing ? Matter, then, by its own
ftrength, cannot produce in itfelf fo much as
motion : the motion it has muft alfo be from
eternity or elfe be produced and added to mat-
ter by fome other being more powerful than mat-
ter } matter, as is evident, having not power to
produce motion in itfelf. But let us fuppofe mo-
tion eternal too ; yet matter, incogitative matter
and motion, whatever changes it might produce
of figure and bulk, could never produce thought :
knowledge will ftill be as far beyond the power
of motion and matter to produce, as matter is be-
yond the power of nothing or nonentity to pro-
duce. And I appeal to every one's own thoughts,
whether he cannot as eafily perceive matter pro-
duced by nothing, as thought to be produced by
pure matter, when before there was no fuch
thing as thought, or an intelligent being exifting?

Divide

72 BEING.

Divide matter into as minute parts as you will
(which we are apt to imagine a fort of fpirituali-
zing or making a thinking thing of it), vary the
figure and motion of it as much as you pleafe; a
globe, cube, cone, prifm, cylinder, &c. whofe
diameters are but loooocoth part of a gry, will
operate no otherwife upon other bodies of pro-
portionable bulk than thofe of an inch or foot
diameter; and you may as rationally expecl to
produce fenfe, thought, and knowledge, by put-
ting together, in a certain figure and motion,
grofs particles of matter, as by thofe that are the
very minuteft that do any where exift. They
knock, impel, and refift one another juft as the
greater do, and that is all they can do. So that
if we will fuppofe nothing firft or eternal, mat-
ter can never begin to be : if we fuppofe bare
matter without motion eternal, motion can never
begin to be : if we fuppofe only matter and motion
firft or eternal, thought can never begin to be.
For it is impoffible to conceive matter, either
with or without motion, could have originally in
and from itfelf fenfe, perception, and knowledge ;
as is evident from hence, that then fenfe, per-
ception, and knowledge, muft be a property eter-
nally infeparable from matter and every particle
of it. Not to add, that though our general or
fpecific conception of matter makes us fpeak of
it as one thing, yet really all matter is not one
i in-

BEAUTY. 73

individual thing, neither is there any fuch thing
exifting as one material being, or one fingle body
that we know or can conceive. And therefore, if
matter were the eternal firft cogitative being,
there would not be one eternal infinite cogitative
being, but an infinite number of eternal finite
cogitative beings, independent one of another,
of limited force and diftindt thoughts, which
could never produce that order, harmony and
beauty, which are to be found in nature. Since
therefore whatfoever is the firft eternal being,
muft neceflarily be cogitative; and whatfoever is
firft of all things, muft neceflarily contain in it,
and actually have, at leaft, all the perfections
that can ever after exift j nor can it ever give to
another any perfection that it hath not, ekher
actually in itfelf, or at leaft in a higher degree ;
it neceflarily follows, .that the firft eternal being
cannot be matter. — If therefore it be evident, that
fomething necefiarily muft exift from eternity, it
is alfo as evident, that that fomething muft necef-
farily be a cogitative being : for it- is as impof-
fible that incogitative matter fhould produce a co-
gitative being, as that nothing, or the negation of
all beings, fhould produce a pofitive being or
matter.

LOCKE.

VOL. L G * BE-

*4 BELIE F.

BELIEF.

WE believe a thing, becaufe we fee it, we per-
ceive it, or underftand it. It is not poffible for
our belief to go further. The credit we give to
the teftimoney of another, is quite a different
principle from the perfuafion of our own mind ;
and has been confounded with it only to ferve
the purpofes of artful men in impofing on the
ignorant. The art of believing what is above
our comprehenfion and reafon, and not contrary
to it, is a fophifm, with the advantage of a jingle
upon words, invented for the fame purpofes.
There is jufl as much good fenfe and truth and
poflibility of believing what is above our under-
ftanding, as in feeing what is beyond our fight,
hearing what is out of hearing, or feeling what
is totally out of reach. We cannot in truth be
faid to believe further than we underftand. — Thofe
who pretend to Tee myfteries, and to believe them,
talk idly ; for no man ever did, or ever could, be-
lieve a myftery, any more than he could fee what
was tranfacled in any invifible world. The com-
plaifance and deference to authority, by which
men are led to pretend to believe, is like the fer-
vility of thofe who, though their eyes are imper-
feft and faulty, always fee as we do, or hear as
we hear. This being the cafe, it is not cafy im-
mediately to underftand why men fhould ever

have

BELIEF. 75

have been blamed or punifhed becaufe they could
not believe. Believing is an act of the mind,
upon confidering a fact or propofition j as feeing
is an act in confequence of turning the eye on
an object. Men are influenced in both thefe
actions exactly alike; by the itrength and good-
ncfs of their natural organs ; by their fitua-
tion and point of view in which they con-
fider things. Every object, every fait, and every
principle, may appear, in fome circumftances,
different to different perfons. Why then, if we
punifh a man for not difcerning truths as we
difcern them, do we not punifh him for not fee-
ing as we fee ? There is no diftinction between
thefe cafes, which is founded in truth and com-
mon fenfe ; but there is, in the artifices of policy
and the wiles of prieftcraft. If men be taken
early enough, they may be induced to give up
the faculties of their minds ; but they muft ufe
their bodily fenfes. — It has been faid, that a right
faith is the confequence of being well and pro-
perly difpofed. It is very true, that a man may
difpofe himfelf ; i. e. he may warp and bias his
mind fo as to make any doctrine or principle
fuit it : But all kinds of prcdifpofition and pre-
arrangement are injuries to the judgment ; and
it would be as difficult for the mind to determine
fairly on a fact or the truth of a principle, when
it was fo predifpofed, as it would be for a judge
G 2 to

76 BELIEF.

to determine fairly in a caufe, on one fide of which
he was bribed. — Our faith is meritorious only as
it is a proof that we ufe our intellectual faculties
in the purfuit of truth ; juft as feeing is a proof
that we ufe our eyes, or hearing that we ufe our
ears. And the common infolence, rage, and cruelty
of zealots, on account of faith, is owing to their
extreme ignorance, or extreme wickednefs ; for
they in 'faft muft have the leaft real faith of all
mankind. They have taken every thing for grant-
ed, without examination or judgment; and have
confequently nothing which they truly believe.
Their faith is the faith of devils : they believe and
tremble under an almighty power which they
dread : they believe every thing which is enjoined
them, from a fear of damnation ; and have no
principle, but what may be common to them with
all the evil fpirits in the univerfe.

"WILLIAMS.

Ox THE SAME SUBJECT.

BELIEF, according to fome philofophers, is in-
dependent of our interelt. Thcfe philofophers are
right or wrong according to the idea they attached
to the word Belief. If they mean by it a clear idea
of the matter believed; and that they can, like
the geometricians, demonitratc the truth of it; it
is certain that no error is believed, that none

will

BELIEF* y-^

•will fland the examen, that we form no clear
idea of it, and that in this fenfe there are few
believers. But if we take the word in the com-
mon acceptation, and mean by a believer an
adorer of the bull Apis ; if the man who, with-
out having a clear idea of what he believes, be-
lieves by imitation, who, fo to fay, believes he
believes, and maintains the truth of his belief at
the hazard of his life; in this fenfe there are
many believers. The Catholic church boafts ccn-
tinuajly of its martyrs ; but I know not where-
fore. Every religion has its own. " He that pre-
" tends to a revelation ought to die in the main-
" tenance of what he aflerts'; that is the only proof
" he can give of its truth." It is not fo with the
philofopher: his propofitions muft be fupported
by fa£ts and reafonings : whether he die or not
in the maintenance of his doctrine, is of little im-
portance : his death woul-d prove only that he
was obftinately attached to his opinion ; not that
it was true. — As for the reft, the belief of fana-
tics, always founded on imaginary, but power-
ful intereft in heavenly rewards, constantly im-
pofes on the vulgar j and it is to thofe fanatics
that we muft attribute the eftablifhment of almoit
all general opinions.

HELVETIUS.

G 3 ON

^8 BELIEF.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

NOTHING is more free than the imagination
of man ; and though it cannot exceed that origi-
nal flock of ideas furnifhed by the internal and
external fenfes, it has unlimited power of mixing,
compounding, feparating, and dividing thefe ideas,
to all the varieties of fidlion and vilion. It can
feign a train of events with all the appearance of
reality, afcribe to them a particular time and
place, conceive them as exiftent, and paint them
out to itfelf with every circurnflance that belongs
to any hiftorical fa£t which it believes with the
greateft certainty. Wherein, therefore, confifts
the difference between fuch a ficlion and belief ?
It lies not merely in any peculiar idea, which
is annexed to fuch a conception as commands our
aflent, and which is refufed to every known fiction.
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 pleafes ; contrary to what we find by
daily experience. We can, in our conception,
join the head of a 'man to the body of a horfe ;
but it is not in our power to believe that fuch an
animal has ever really exifted — It follows, there-
fore, that the difference between fitlion and be-
lief lies in fome fentiment or feeling which is
annexed to the latter, not to the former, and

which

BELIEF. 79

which depends not on the will, nor ean be com-
manded at pleafure. It muft be excited by na*
ture, like all other fentiments ; and muft arife
from the particular fituation in which the mind
is placed at any particular juncture. Whenever
any object is prefented to the memory or fenfes,.
it immediately, by the force ef cuftom, carries the
imagination to conceive the object which is
ufually conjoined to it ; and this conception is at-
tended with a feeling or fentiment different from
the loofe reveries of the fancy. In this confifts
the whole nature of belief. For as there is no
matter of fact which we believe fo firmly that we
cannot conceive the contrary, there would be no
difference between the conception aflented to,
and that which is rejected, were it not for fome
fentiment which diftinguifhes tfce one from the
other. If I fee a billiard-ball moving towards
another on a fmooth table, I can eafily conceive
it to flop upon contact. This conception implies
no contradiction; but ftill it feels very differently
from that conception by which I reprefcnt to
myfelf the impulfe and the communication of
motion from one ball to another. — Were we to
attempt a definition of this fentiment, we mould,
perhaps, find it a very difficult, if not an impoffible
tafk -, in the fame manner as if we mould endea-
vour to define the feeling of cold, or paflion of
anger, to a, creature who never had an experience

of

go BELIEF.

of thefe fentiments. Belief is the true and proper
name of this feeling ; and no one is ever at a lofs
to know the meaning of that term; becaufe every
man is every moment confcious of the fentiment
reprefented by it. It may not, however, be im-
proper to attempt a defcription of this fentiment ;
in hopes we may, by that means, arrive at fomc
analogies which may afford a perfect explication
of it. I fay then, that belief is nothing but a
more vivid, lively, forcible, iteady conception of
an object, than what the imagination aione is
ever able to attain. This variety of terms, which
may feem fo unphilofophical, is intended only to
exprefs that a£t of the mind which renders reali-
ties, or what is taken for fuch, more prefent to
us than fictions, caufes them to weigh more in
the thought, and gives them a fuperior influence
to the pafiions and imagination. Provided we
agree about the thing, it is needlefs to difpute
about the terms. The imagination has the com-
mand over all the ideas, and can join and mix and
vary them in all the ways poffible. It may con-
ceive fictitious objects with all the circumftames
of place and time ; it may fet them in a manner
before our eyes in their true colours, juft as
as they might have exifted : but as it is impoflible
that this faculty of imagination can ever of itfelf
reach Belief^ which is a term that every one
fufficiently underftands in common life ; and in

phi-

B E L I E !•. 8 1

philofophy, we can go no farther than affert,
that belief is fomething felt by the mind, which
diftinguifb.es the ideas of judgment from the fic-
tions of the imagination ; it gives them more
weight and influence ; makes them appear of
greater importance; enforces them in the mind;
and renders them the governing principle of our
actions. I hear at prefent, for inftance, a per-
fbn's voice with whom I am acquainted ; and
the found comes as from the next room. This
imprcfllon of my fenfes immediately conveys my
thought to the perfon, together with all the fur-
rounding objects. I paint them out to myfelf as
exifling at prefent with the fame qualities and re-
lations of which I formerly knew them poflefled.
Thefe ideas take falter hold of my mind than ideas
of an inchanted 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. — The fentiment, therefore, of belief
is nothing but a conception more intenfe and
fteady than what attends the mere fictions of
the imagination; and this- manner of concep-
tion arifes from a cuftomary conjunction of
the object with fomething prefent to the memory
or fenfes*

THE

BELIEF.

THE BELIEF OR DISBELIEF
Of any Religion can neither be a virtue nor a Crime
in any one njing the bejl Means in his Po-werfor
Information.

IF we take a furvey of that variety of fefts which
are fcattered over the face of the earth, and who
mutually accufe each other of falfehood and error,
and afk which is the right ; every one of them in
their turns will anfwer theirs; we know our feel: is
in the right, becaufe God hath declared fo. " All
" of them," fays Charron, " pretend that they de-
" rive their doctrine, not from men, nor from any
" created being, but from God. But to fay truth,
" without flattery or difguife, there is nothing
" in fuch pretenfions : however they may talk,
" they owe their religion to human means ; wit-
" nefs the manner in which they firft adopt it.
" The nation, country, and place where they are
" born and bred, determine it. Are we not cir-
" cumcifed or baptized, made Jews, Turks, or
" Chriftians, before we are men ?" Our religion
is not the effect of choice, but of accident ; and
to impute it to us, is unjuft : it is to reward or
punifh us for being born in this or that country.
If the method taken by him who is in the right,
and by him who is in the wrong, be the fame;

what

£ £ L I E F. 83

what merit or dement hath the one more than the
other ? Now, either all religions are good, and
agreeable to God ; or if there be one which he
hath dictated to man, and will punifli him for re-
jecting, he h.:i:h certainly diftinguimed it by ma-
nifeft figns and tokens as the only true one. Thefe
are common to all times and places, and are equally
obvious to all mankind. If natural religion be in-
fufficient, it i < owing to the obfcurity in which it
neceflarily leaves thofe fublime truths it profefies
to teach. It is the bufmefs of revelation to exhi-
bit them to the mind in a more clear and fenfible
manner, to adapt them to the underftandings of
men, in order that they may be capable of believing
them. True faith is aflured and confirmed by the
underffcanding ; and the beft of all religions is un-
doubtedly the cleared. If there -be only one reli-
gion in the world which can prevent our fuffering
eternal damnation, and enfure our title to future
happinefs; and there be on any part of the earth a
fingle mortal who is fincere, and is not convinced
©f its evidence; the God of that religion muft be a
cruel tyrant. Would we feek the truth therefore
in fincerity, we muft lay no ftrefs on the place and
circumftances of our birth, nor on the authority
of fathers or teachers; but appeal to the dictates of
reafon and conscience concerning every thing
taught us in our youth. It is to no purpofe to bid
me fubjeft my reafon to the truth of things of

which

84 BENEFICENCE.

which it is incapacitated to judge ; the man who
would impofe on me a falfehood, may bid me do
the fame. It is neceflary therefore I mould em-
ploy my reafon even to know when I ought to
fubrait. ROUSSEAU.

BENEFICENCE.

THE proper exercife of wifdom, and the right
ufe of riches, are not yet fubjedt to legal regula-
tions i and all the pleafing duties of beneficence are
in our hands. We fhall defervedly forfeit this
privilege if we abufe it ; or if we make the diftinc-
tion we are favoured with in fociety, the occafion
of mifchief and injury to it. If the labourer thinks
himfelf obliged by his wants, by his connections
with his wife and children, and by the fear of bo-
dily punifhment, not only to refrain from theft
and injuftice, but to work hard, and to exercife
his prudence and understanding to make his fa-
aiily happy ; — what muft be the obligations of
the rich and wife, if they can not only fave their
friends and connections from wants and diftrefles,
but extend their hands to numbers around them,

and afiift thofe who are not fo happy ? Is

there any comparifon between the neceffity and
obligation of thefe duties ? Thofe who would fay
the former is a duty, becaufe the poor man can-
not avoid it j and the latter is not a duty, becaufe
3 the

BENEFICENCE. $£

the wife and rich may avoid it, do not underftand
the meaning of moral obligation. The wretch
who can avoid it, be his talents and rank what
they may, does not deferve the name of man.
Every man's abfolute obligations and duties in-
creafe in proportion to his wifdom, power, and
wealth ; and all omiffions in expreflions of bene-
volence, are as criminal and injurious to the world
as fraud, theft, or any other villany.

WILLIAMS.

•BENEFICENCE AND GRATITUDE.

THERE is a kind of contract, and the ftrongefl
of all contracts, between the benefactor and the
obliged. It is a fort of fociety they form between
each other, ftricter than that which in general
unites men ; and when the obliged tacitly engages
himfelf to gratitude, the benefactor likewife is
equally engaged to the other to preferve, fo long
as he does not render himfelf unworthy, the fame
attentions he has already experienced, and to re-
new his proofs of it every time it is required, or
that he has it in his power. Thofe are not the
exprefs conditions, but they are the natural effects
of the relations they have fettled between them.
He who for the firft time refufes a gratuitous fer-
vice afked, gives no right of complaint to him he
has refufed j but he who in a like cafe equally
VOL. I. H f TC-

86 B I G 0 T R T.

refufes the fame favour he had granted before,
crofies a hope he had authorifed to be conceived,
he deceives and baulks the expectation he created.
We feel in the refufal fomething of I don't know
tow unjuft and more cruel than in the other ; but it
is not lefs the effe£t of an independence the heart
is fond of, and which it cannot renounce without
effort. If .1 pay a debt, it is a duty I owe : if I
beftow a gift, it is a pleafure I procure myfelf.
Thus the pleafure of doing our duty is of thofe
virtue gives birth to ; thofe which proceed im-
mediately from nature are not fo elevated.

ROUSSEAU.

RELIGIOUS BIGOTRY.

A VIOLENT contention about external forms
and ceremonies of religion, is an indication of
ignorance, fuperftition, and barbarity. It was car-
ried to excefs in fome of the darker ages of the
church ; and has always been the charadleriflic of
abfurd and illiterate feftaries : But as men have
become better acquainted with the Scriptures, and
the fpirit and genius of Chriftianity; as they have
improved in liberal arts and fciences, in politenefs,
and a knowledge of the world ; they have like-
wife become more candid and moderate in their
religious controverfies, and the perfecution of re-
puted heretics. It is indeed painful to every hu-
mane

BLACKNESS. tj

mane and benevolent fpeftator, to fee men furi-
oufly abufirig and perfecutingone another for fome
trifling difference in their drefs, their forms of de-
votion, their canonical ceremonies, and their the-
ological fpeculations, without the lead regard for
the moft facred obligations of Chriftianity. When-
ever therefore we fee a man of this temper, that
is, an angry bigot, we can entertain no favourable
opinion of his head and heart.

THE EFFECTS OF BLACKNESS.

BLACKNESS isbut a. partial darknefs,- and there-
fore it derives fome of its powers from being mixed
and furrounded with coloured bodies. In its own
nature it cannot be confidered as a colour. B'ack
bodies, reflecting none, or but a few rays, with re*
gard to fight, are but fo many vacant fpaces dii-
perfed among the objects] we view. When the
eye lights on one of thefe vacuities, after having
been kept in fome degree of tenfion by the play of
the adjacent colours upon it, it fuddenly falls into
a relaxation, out of which it as fuddenly recovers
by a convulfive fpring. To illuftrate this; let us
confider, that when we intend to fit in a chair, and
find it much lower than we expected, the Ihock
is very violent •, much more violent than could be
thought from fo flight a fall as the difference be-
H 2 tween

88 BLACKNESS.

tween one chair and another can poiTibly make.
If, after defcending a flight of fteps, we attempt
inadvertently, to take another ftep in the manner
of the former ones, the mock is extremely rude
and difagreeable ; and by no art can we caufe
iuch a (hock by the fame means, when we expect
and prepare for it. This is owing to the change
being made contrary to expectation, not fole-
ly when the mind expe£l?> but likewife when,
any organ of fenfe is for fome time affected in
fome one manner, if it be fuddenly affected
otherwife, there enfues a convulfive motion ; fuch
a convulfion as is caufed when any thing happens
againft the expectance of the mind. And though
it may appear ftrange that fuch a change as pro-
duces a relaxation, fhould immediately produce a
fudden convulfion ; it is yet moft certainly fo, and
fo in all the fenfes. Every one knows that fleep
is a relaxation ; and that filence, where nothing
keeps the organs of hearing in action, is in general
fittefl to bring on this relaxation : yet when a fort
of murmuring founds difpofe a man to fleep, let
thefe founds ceafe fuddenly, and the perfon im*
mediately awakes ; that is, the parts are braced,
up fuddenly, and he awakes. In like manner, if
a perfon in broad day-light were falling afleep, to
introduce a fudden darknefs would prevent his
fleep for that time, though filence and darknefs in
themfelves, and not fuddenly introduced, are very,

fa-

BLACKNESS- 89

favourable to it. From experience we alfo learn,
that on the firft inclining towards fleep, we have
been fuddenly awakened with a moft violent ftart ;
and that this ftart was generally preceded by a
fort of dream of our falling down a precipice.
Whence does this ftrange notion arife, but from
the too fudden relaxation of the body, which by
fome mechanifm in nature reftores itfelf by as quick
and vigourouts an exertion of the contracting
power of the mufcles ? The dream itfelf is caufed
by this relaxation j and it is of too uniform a nature
to be attributed to any other caufe : the parts re-
lax too fuddenly, which is in the nature of falling,
and this accident in the body induces this image
in the mind. When we are in a confirmed ftate
of health and vigour, as all changes are lefs fudden.
then, and lefs on the extreme, we can feldom com"
plain of this difagreeable fenfation.

Though the effects of black be painful origi-
nally, we muft not think they always continue fo»
Cuftom reconciles us to every thing. After we
have been ufed to the fight of black objects, the
terror abates, and the fmoothnefs and gloffinefs, or
fome agreeable accident of bodies fo coloured,
foftens in fome meafure the horror and fternnefs
of their original nature -, yet the nature of the
original impreffion ftill continues. Black will al-
ways have fomething melancholy in it, becaufe
•the fenfory wiiL always find the change to it from
H 3 other

«jo CALVINISTIC DIVINITY.

other colours too violent ; or if it occuppy the
whole compafs of the fight, it will then be dark-
jjefs, and the efftls of darknefs applicable to it.

BURKE,

C,

OLVINISTIC DIVINITY.

C.

CALVINISTIC DIVINITY

"1T7HAT ftrange ideas, fays he, would an Indian
or a Chinefe philofopher have of our holy re-
ligion, if they judged by the fchemes given of it by
our modern free-thinkers, and Pharifaical doctors
of all feels ? According to the odious and too vul-
gar fyftems of thefe incredulous fcoffers, and cre-
dulous fcriblers, the God of the Jews is a moft
cruel, unjuft, partial, and fantaftical being. He
created about 6000 years ago a man and a wo-
man, and placed them in a fine garden in Afia,
of which there are no remains. This garden was
furniftied with all forts of trees, fountains, and
flowers. He allowed them the ufe of all the fruits
of this beautiful garden execept of one, that was
planted in the midft thereof, and that had in it a
fecret virtue of preferving them in continual-
health, and vigour of body and mind, of exalting
their natural powers, and making them wife.
The devil entered into the body of a ferpent, and
folicited the faft woman to eat of this forbidden

fruit ;

92 CALVINISTIC DIVINITY.

fruit ; {lie engaged her hufband to do, the fame.
To punifli this flight curiofity and natural defire of
life and knowledge, God not only threw our firfl
parents out of Paradife, but he condemned all
their pofterity to temporal mifery, and the great-
eft 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 Ma-
homet; fmce, according to the fcholaflic drivel-
lers, fabulifts, and mythologifts, all fouls are cre-
ated pure, and infufed immediately into mortal
bodies as foon as the fcetus is formed. To ac-
complifh the barbarous partial decree of prede-
ftination and reprobation, God abandoned all na-
tions to darknefs, idolatry, and fuperftition, with-
out any faving knowledge or falutary graces ; unlefs
it was one particular nation, whom he chofe as
his peculiar people. This chofen nation was,
however, the moft ftupid, ungrateful, rebellious,
and perfidious of all nations. After God had thus
kept the far greater part of all the human fpecies,
during near 4000 years, in a reprobate ftate, he
changed all of a fudden, and took a fancy for other
nations befide the Jews. Then he fent his only
begotten Son to the world, under a human forir^
to appeafe his wrath, fatisfy his vindictive juftice,
and die for the pardon of fin. Very few nations,
however, have heard of this gofpel ; and all the
reft, though left in invincible ignorance, are

damned

CALVINISTIC DIVINITY. 93

aamned without exception or any poflibility of
remiflion. The greateft part of thofe who have
heard of it, have changed only fome fpeculative
notions about God, and fome external forms
in worfhip : for in all other refpecls the bulk of
Chriflians have continued as corrupt as the reft
of mankind in their morals ; yea, fo much the
more perverfe and criminal as their lights were
greater. Unlefs it be a very fmall felecl: number,
all other Chriftians, like the Pagans, will be for
ever damned ; the great facrifice offered up for
them will become void and of no,effec"l; God will
take delight for ever in their torments and Blaf-
phemies ; and though he can by onejiat change
their hearts, yet they will remain for ever uncon-
verted and unconvertible, becaufe he will be for
ever unappeafed and irreconcilable. It is true, that
all this makes God odious ; a hater of fouls, rather
than a lover of them ; a cruel vindictive tyrant, an
impotent or a wrathful demon, rather than an all-
powerful, beneficent father of fpirits : yet all this
is a myftery. He has fecret reafons for his con-
duct that are impenetrable; and though he ap-
pears unjuft and barbarous, yet we muft believe
the contrary, becaufe what is injuflice, crime,
cruelty, and the blackeft malice in us, is in him
juftice, mercy, and fovereign goodnefs. Thus the
incredulous free-thinkers, the Judaizing Chrifli-
ans, and the. fataliftic doctors, have disfigured

and.

$4 CAUSE AND EFFECT.

and difhonoured the fublime myfteries of our holy
faith j thus they have confounded the nature of
good and evil, transformed the moft monftrous
paffions into divine attributes, and furpafled the
Pagans in blafphemy, by afcribing to the Eter-
nal Nature, as perfections, what makes the moil
horrid crimes amongft men. The grofler Pagans
contented themfelves v/5th divinizing luft, irt-
ceft, and adultery; but the predeftinarian doclors
have divinized cruelty, wrath, fury, vengeance,
and all the blackeft vices.

Chevalier RAMSAY'S Phihfipbica! Prin-
t/»fsu*' X ciples cf Natural and Revealed Reli-

CAUSE AND EFFECT

IN the notice that our fenfes take of the con-
ftant viciflitude of things, we cannot but obferve
that feveral particulars, both qualities and fub-
ftances, begin to exift ; and that they receive
this their exiftence from the due application and
operation of fome other being. From this ob-
fervation we get our ideas of caufe and effeft.
That which produces any fimple or complex idea,
we denote by the general name Caufe ,- and that
which is produced, Effeft. Thus finding, that, in
that fubftance which we call wax, fluidity, (which

is

CAUSE ANTD EFFECT. 9-

is a fimple idea, that was not in it before), is con-
ftandy produced by the application of a certain
degree of heat, we call the fimple idea of heat,
in relation to fluidity in wax, the caufe of it, and
fluidity the effect. So always finding, that the
fubftance, wood, which is a certain collection of
fimple ideas fo called, by the application of fire,
is turned into another fubftance called afhes, /. e.
another complex idea, confifting' of a collection
of fimple ideas quite different from that complex
idea which we call wood j we confider fire in re-
lation to aflies as caufe, and the afhes as effect.
So that whatever is confidered by us to conduce
or operate to the producing any particular fimple
idea, of collection of fimple ideas, whether fub-
ilance or mode, which did not before exift, hath
thereby in our minds the relation of a caufe, and
is fo denominated by us.

LOCKE.

THE EXISTENCE OF A FIRST CAUSE.

LIBERTY, as it is underftood by many fchool-
tnen, is in fact an abfurd chimera. If they will
pay the leaft attention to reafon, and not be fatis-
fied with mere words, it will be evident, that
whatever exifts, or is feif-created, is necefiary }
for if it was not neceflary, it would be ufelefs.

The

f6 CAUSE.

The refpeftable fe£t of Stoics thought fo ; and,
what is very fmgular, this truth may be found
in a hundred places. of Homer, who makes Jupi-
ter fubmit to fate.

There exifts a fomething, which muft be eter-
nal, as is demonftrated; otherwife we mould
have an effect without a caufe. Thus all the
ancients, without a fingle exception, believed mat-
ter to be eternal,

It is not the fame of immenfity, nor of an
almighty power. I cannot fee the neceffity of all
fpace being filled; and I do not comprehend the
reafoning of Clarke, who fays, that whatever
neceffarily exijls in cne place^ ought neceffarily to
exift in every place. Wherefore is it impoffible
that there mould be more than a determined
quantity of beings ? I can much eafier conceive
a bounded nature, than an infinite nature.

Upon this article I can only have probabilities,
and I can only fubmit to the ftrongeft. By the
univerfal agreement in every thing which I know
of nature, I 'perceive a defign: this defign mows
that there muft be a firfl caufe ; that caufe is
undoubtedly very powerful ; but fimple philofo-
•phy does not teach me to believe that this great
artift is infinitely powerful. A houfe forty feet
high proves to me that there muft have been an
architect ; but reafon alone cannot convince me
that this architect -could build a houfe ten thou-
2 fand

CAUSE. 97

fand leagues high. Perhaps his powers did not
admit of his building one more than forty feet
high. My reafon alone does not tell me, that in
the immenfity of fpace there is but one architect;
and if a man was to allege that there were a
great .many fimilar architects, I do not fee how I
could convince him of the contrary.

VOLTAIRE.

THE MYSTERIES OF CERES ELEUSINA.

IN the chaos of popular fuperftition, which
would have made almoft the whole globe one vaft
den of ferocious animals, there was a falutary
inftitution, which prevented one part of the
human fpecies from degenerating into an entire
ftate of brutality : this confided of myfteries and
expiations. Philofophers endeavoured to bring
men back to reafon and morality. Thofe fages
made ufe of fuperftition itfelf to correct its enor-
mous abufes.

The myfteries of Zoroafter are no longer
known : we know but little of thofe of Ifis: but
\ve cannot doubt that -they foretold the grand fy-
ftem of a future ftate ; for Celfus fays to Origines,
book 8. " You boaft cf believing in eternal pit-
l( nifbments; and did not all the my/Heal minijlers
" preach them to their initiated f"
VOL. I, f I God's

98 CERES ELEPSINI.

God's unity was the principal dogma of all the
myftcries. Apuleius has preferred for us the
prayer of the prieftefles of Ifis : " The cele/lial
tf powers ferve tbce ; the Infernal regions arefnb-
tf mltted to thee ; the univerfe revolves in thine
" band; thy feet trample upon Tartarus ; the
*( planets anfiver to thy voice ; \thffeafons return
," to thy order ; the elements obey thee."

The myftical ceremonies of Ceres were in imi-
tation of thofe of Ifis. Thofe who had committed
crimes, confefled them and expiated them ; they
faded, purified tliemfelves, and gave alms. All
the ceremonies were held facred by folemn oaths
to make them more venerated. The myfteries
•were celebrated at night; certain fpeeies of tra-
gedies were reprefented to defcribe the happincfs
of the juft, and the punifhments of the wicked.

Some very learned men have proved, that the
fixth book of the ^Eneid is only a picture of
what was praclifed in thofe fecret and famous
reprefentations. The myfteries of Eleufina be-
•came the moft celebrated. One very remarkable
thing is, that they read the beginning of the
theogony of Sanchoniathon die Phoenician. This
js a proof that Sanchoniathon had preached one
fupreme God, creator and governor of the world.
It was then that this doclrine was unveiled to the
initiated, inftrucVed in the belief of Polytheifm.
Thofe who participated of the myfteries aflem-

bled

CERES ELEUSINA. 99

bled in the temple of Ceres; and the Hierophanta
taught them, that inftead of adoring Ceres, lead-
ing Triptolemus upon a car drawn by dragons,
they.fhould adore that God who nourifhed men,
and permitted Ceres and Triptolemus to rendej;
agriculture fo honourable.

This is true, that the Hierophanta began by
reciting the ancient verfes of Orpheus. Walk in
the path of jnftice ; adore the fo!e mafter of the
vniverfe ; he is one, he is Ji/ig/y by himfelf ; i-j
h:m all beings owe their cxijlence ; he a5is in
them, and bj them ; he fees all, and never luas feen
by mortal eyes.

The greateft difcretion was neceflary, not to
Jhock the prejudices of the multitude. Bifliop
Warburton obferves after Plutarch, that the young
Alcibiades having aflifted at thefe myfteries, in-
fulted the ftatues of Mercury in a party of plca-
fure, and that the people in their rage infilled
upon Alcibiades's being condemned. Alexander
himfelf having obtained leave in Egypt of the
Hierophanta of the myfteries, to acquaint his
jTiOther with die fecrets of the initiated, at the
fame time conjured her to burn his letter after
reading it, that (he might not irritate the Greeks.

Thofe who have imagined that die myfteries
were only infamous debauches, ought to be unde-
ceived by the word which anfwers to initiated; it
that they entered on a new life. Not
I 2 that

too CERES ELEUSINA.

that It is to be doubted that in all thefe myfteries,
the ground work of which was fo fenfible and
ufeful, many cenfurable fuperflitions were intro-
duced. Superflition led to debauchery, which
brought on contempt.

But it indubitably appears, that the primary in-
tention of thefe myfteries was to infpire virtue,
from the fet form with which the aflembly was dif-
mifled. Amongft the Greeks, the two ancient
Phoenician words, koff omphst, " watch and be
<( pure" were pronounced. We may produce an
additional proof, that the emperor Nero, who W.H
guilty of his mother's death, could not be admitted
to thefe myfteries when he travelled in Greece :
die crime was too enormous; and as great an em-
peror as he was, the initiated would not receive
him amongft them. Zozimus alfo fays, that
Conftantine could find no Pagan priefts who
would purify him or abfolve him of parricide.
— According to Tertullian, the ceremony of re-
generation was very ridiculous. It was neceffary
that the initiated mould feem to be reborn : this
was the fymbol of the new kind of life he was
to embrace. He was prefented with a crown, and
he trampled upon it. The Hierophanta held the
facred knife over his head; the initiated, who
feigned to be ftruck with it, fell as if he were
dead; after which he appeared to regenerate.

There was (arnidft all the fhameful cuftoms,

trifling

CERES ELEUSINA. 10^

trifling ceremonies, and ridiculous doctrines,
which the people and pricfts followed in honour
of fome imaginary gods, who were defpifed and
deteited by the fages) a pure religion, which con-
fided in acknowledging the existence of a fu-
prenie God, his providence and juftice.

VOLTAIRE*

ON THE SAME SUBJECT,

THE myfteries of Elcufis were celebrated twice
a-year, at feed-time and harveft ; and the feftival
continued nine days. Each day had its peculiar
ceremonies. The^r/? was confecrated to the pre-
liminaries of the fcftival. On d\z.fecondy the ini-
tiated or my floe went in a kind of proceffion to the
fca, where refervoirs of falt-water, iacred to Ceres
and Proferpine, were fet apart for their purifica-
tion. The /AjWwas pafled in fading, affliction,
and myfterious lamentations, which reprefented
the complaints and groans of Ceres and Profer-
pine : though fomething not of the affilEling kind
feems to have been alfo reprefented by the myflic
beds furrounded with bands of purple, which
were employed to convey an idea of the fituation
of Proferpine on her arrival in the infernal regions.
The fifth was fet apart for a facrifice, in which
the greateft care was obferved to avoid touching
the genitals of the victim ; and the offering was
I ac-

1O2 CERES ELEI/SINA.

x

accompanied with myftic dances in a meadow
enamelled with flowers, about the fpring of Calli-
chorns. Thejixth day was diftinguifhed by the
proceflson of torches, of which there is a repre-
fentation ftill to be feen on a baffo-relievo dif-
covered by Span and Wheler. In this proceflion,
the initiated marched two by two, with a folemn
pace, in deep filence, to the Eleufmian temple of
Ceres, and were fuppofed to be purified by the
odour which exhaled from the torches. The
young lacchus, reprefented with a myrtle crown
and a torch in his hand, was carried in pomp
from the Ceramicus to Eleujis. The myftical van,
which was an emblem of the feparation of the
initiated from the prapharitt the catathus, a branch
of laurel, a kind of wheel, and the phallus, follow-
ed the beautiful marble ftatue of the god, and the
cries of To Bacche were loudly repeated during the
procemon : lacchus was invited to take a part in
the dances and pleafures of the day, and to be an
interceflbr with Ceres in favour of the Athenians.
In their hymns and invocations, they befeeched
the goddefs to procure for thofe who were ad-
mitted to the myfteries, an abundance of diver-
fions and dancing, to grant them the talents of
wit and pleafantry, and the power of furpaffing
others in jokes and farcafms. The inhabitants of
the adjacent places came in crowds to fee this
holy troop ; which, on its arrival at the bridge of

the

CERES ELELSINA. 103

the CephifiiS) they faluted with volleys of fatirical
witticifms and buffooneries, which the initiated
anfwered in the fame ftyle, and retorted with
the fame fpirit. Thofe among the initiated, who
gained the victory in this lin^ular conflict, were
here applauded and adorned with fillets of purple.
The eighth day was employed in a repetition
of the initiation, which was originally occafioned
by a particular mark of refpect paid to JEfcula-
pius, who having come to Eleufis to be initiated
after the ceremony was over, was favoured with
a repetition of the myfteries. This repetition be-
came a conftant practice. The ninth and laft
day feems to have been diftinguifhed by no other
ceremony than the filling of two vafes with water,
and pouring out the contents of the one towards
the eaft, and of the other towards the weft, and
pronouncing, during this act, feveral myfterious
words and phrafes, with their eyes alternately
turned to the heavens and the earthy confidered
as the common father and mother of all beings.
It feems that this ceremony was rather of a dole-
ful and melancholy complexion, and that the liba-
tions ufual in the celebration of funeral rites, were
employed in this concluding day of the Eleufinian
myfteries.

The fecret of thefe myfteries feems to have con-
fifted principally in a particular manner of teach-
ing the doctrine of future rewards and punifh-

ments ;

104 CERTAINTY.

ments ; by which the rewards were fuppofed to
regard the initiated alone, and the puniflnrients
only the profane, or thofe. who were not initiated.
This is confirmed by many authorities; and,
among others, by that fhrewd obfervation of Dio-
genes Laertius : What ? Shall the future Jiate of
the robber Paracion be happier, becaufe he is ini-
tiated, than that cf Epamiaondas ? Upon the
whole, it does not appear that the unity of the
Supreme Being was a part of the fecret doctrine
here in queftion.

DE ST. CROIX^

CERTAINTY.

HAD you, in Copernicus's time, afked all the
world, Did the fun rife, did the fun fet, to-day ?
they would one and all have anfwered, That is a
certainty ; we are fully certain of it : thus they
were certain, and yet miilaken. — Witchcraft, divi-
nations, and pofleffions, were for a long time uni-
verfally accounted the moft certain things in the
world. — What numberlefs crowds have feen all
thefe fine tilings, and have been certain cf them !
but at prefent fuch certainty begins to lofe its
credit. — A mathematical demonftration is a very
different certainty from thefe : they were only pro-
babilities, which, on being fearched into, are
found errors ; but mathematical certainty is ins-
mutable

CHAIN OF EVENTS. i§i*

mutable and eternal. — I exift, I think, I feel pain;
is all this as certain as a geometrical truth ? Yes.
And why ? becaufe thefe truths are proved by
the fame principle, that a thing cannot at the
fame time be and not be. — I cannot at one and
the fame time exift and not exift, feel and not
feel. — A triangle cannot have and not have a
hundred and eighty degrees, the firm of two right
angles. — Thus the phyfical certainty of my exift-
ence and my fenfation, and mathematical cer-
tainty, are of a like validity, though differing in
kind. — But this is by no means applicable to the
certainty founded on appearances, or the unani-
mous relations of men. VOLTAIRE.

CHAIN OF EVENTS.

IT is an old fuppofition, that all events are
linked together by an invincible fatality, this is
cleft iny, which Homer makes fuperior to Jupiter
himfelf. — The fyftem of necefiity and fatality has,
according to Leibnitz, been (truck out by himfelf
under the appellation of fufficient reafm ; but it
is in reality of very ancient date, that no effect is
without a caufe; and that often the leaft caufe
produces the greateft effects, is what the world is
not to be taught at this time of day. — My Lord
Bolingbroke owns, that the trivial quarrel between
the Dutchefs of Marlborough and Mrs Mafham,

put

ro6 CHAIN OF EVENTS.

put him upon making the feparate treaty between
Queen Anne and Lewis XIV. This treaty brought
on the peace of Utrecht. This peace fettled
Philip V. on the Spanifh throne : Philip difpof-
feffed the houie of Auftria, of Naples, and Sicily.
Thus the Spanifh prince, who is now king of
Naples, evidently owes his fovereignty to Mrs
Mafham : he would not have had it, perhaps he
would not fo much as have been born, had the
Dutchefs of Marlborough behaved with due com-
plaifance towards the Queen of England : his
exigence at Naples depended on a few follies
committed at the court of London. Inquire into
the fituations of all nations on the globe, and they
all derive from a chain of events, apparently quite
unconnected with any one thing, and connected
with every thing. In this immenfe machine all
is wheel-work, pully, cords, and fpring. It is the
fame in the phyfieal fyftem. A wind, blowing
from the fouth of Africa and the Auftral feas,
brings with it part of the African atmofphere,
which falls down again in rain among the valleys
of the Alps 5 and thefe rains fruclify die lands.
Again, our northern wind wafts our vapours
among the negroes. Thus we benefit Guinea, and
are benefited by it •, and this chain reaches from
one end of die univerfe to die other.

VOLTAIRE..

THE

CHANCE AND CAUSES. 107

THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN CHANCE AND
CAUSES.

THE beft general rqletohelp us in diftinguifh-
ing between chance and caufes, is the following :
What depends upon a few perfcns, is in a great
meafure te be afcribed to chance^ or fecrct and un-
known caufes : What arifes from a great numbf-r^
may often be accounted for by determinate and
known caufes.

Two natural reafons may be afligned for this
rule : Firft, if you fuppofe a dye to have any bias,
however fmall, to a particular fide, this bias, though
perhaps it may not appear in a few throws, will
certainly prevail in a great number, and will caft
the balance entirely to that fide. In like manner,
when any caufes beget a particular inclination or
pafTion at a certain time, and among a certain
people, though many individuals may efcape the
contagion, and be ruled by paflions peculiar to
to themfelves, yet the multitude will certainly be
feized by the common affection, and be governed
by it in all their actions. — Secondly, Thofe prin-
ciples or caufes which are fitted to operate on a
multitude, are always of a grofler nature, lefs fub-
je<ft to accidents, and lefs influenced by whim and
private fancy, than thofe which operate on a few
only. The latter are commonly fo delicate and
refined, that the fmalleft incident in the health,

edu-

CHANCE AND CAUSES,

education, or fortune of a particular perfon, is
fufficient to divert their courfe, and retard their
operation ; nor is it pofiible to reduce them to
any general maxims or obfervations. Their in-
fluence at one time will never afiure us concern-
ing their influence at another, even though all
the general circumftances (hould be the fame in
both cafes. — To judge by this rule, the domeftic
and the gradual revolutions of a flate muft be a
more proper fubjecl; of reafoning and obfervation
than the foreign and the violent, which are com-
monly produced by tingle perfons, and are more
influenced by whim, folly, or caprice, than by ge-
neral paJTions and interefls. The depreflion of
the lords, and rife of the commons in England,
after the flatutes of alienation and the increafe of
trade and induftry, are more eafily accounted for
by general principles, than the deprcffion of the
Spanim and rife of the French monarchy after the
death of Charles V. Had Henry IV. Cardinal
Richelieu, and Louis XIV. been Spaniards, and
"Philip II. III. and IV. and Charles II. been French-
men, the hiftory of thefe two nations had been
entirely reverfed.

For the fame reafon, it is more eafy to account
for the rife and progrefs of commerce in any
kingdom, than for that of learning; and a ftate
which mould apply itfelf to the encouragement
of the one, would be more afiured of fuccefs than
3 one

CHARACTER. 109

one which fhould cultfoate the other. Avarice,
or the defire of gain, is an univerfal paflion, which
operates at all times, in all places, and upon all
perfons. But curiofity, or the love of knowledge,
has a very limited influence; and requires youth,
leifure, education, genius, and example, to make
it govern any perfon. You will never want book-
fellers while there are buyers of books : But there
may frequently be readers where there are no
authors. Multitudes of people, neceflity, and
liberty, have begot commerce in Holland : But
ftudy and application have hardly produced any
eminent writers.

We may therefore conclude, that there are fub-
jecls in which we muft proceed with caution in
tracing their hiftory, left we aflign caufes which
never exifted, and reduce what is merely contin-
gent to ftable and univerfal principles.

' CHARACTER.

»
THIS term comes from a Greek word, fignify-

ing impreflion and graving. It is what nature has
engraven in us : Then can we efface it ? This
is a weighty queftion. Religion and morality lay
a check on the force of a natural temper, but
cannot extirpate it. A fot, when in a convent,.
reduced to half a pint of cyder at each meal, will
VOL. I. K f no

:io CHARACTER.

no longer be feen drunk, but his love of wine wiii
ever be the fame. — Age weakens the natural cha-
racter : it is a tree which only produces fome de-
generate fruits ; ftill are they of one and the fame
nature. It grows knotty, and over-run with mofs,
and worm-eaten ; but amidft all this, it continues
what it was, whether oak or pear tree. Could a
man change his character, he would give himfelf
one ; he would be fuperior to nature. Can we
give ourfelves any thing ? What have we that we
have not received ? Endeavour to raife the indo-
lent to a conftant activity, to freeze the impetu-
ous into an apathy, to give a tafte for poetry or
mufic to one who has neither tafte nor ears ; you
may as well go about wafhing the blackmoor
white, or giving fight to one born blind. We only
improve, polifh, and conceal what nature has put
into us ; we have nothing cf our own putting.—
Natitram expellas furcat tamen ufque redlbit.

VOLTAIRE.

NATIONAL CHARACTERS.

NO fpecies of government, religion, opinion, or
moral caufe, can make any material alterations in
the people of countries fituated in the extremes of
heat and cold. Heat deprives the body of all vi-
gour and ftrength, and the imbecillity is commu-
nicated to the intellectual faculties j the inclina-
tions

CHARACTER. in

tions are all pafllve; indolence conftitutes the ut-
molt happinefs. In cold countries the inhabitant
finds a fufiicient tafk in fcreenmg himfelf from
the feverity of the feafon, and in providing a fub-
fiftence : Not that the nature of man is altered or
impaired, either in the quality or number of its
faculties ; but thefe capabilities are not fuffered to
exert themfelves. There can be no vigorous appli-
cations, no long watchings, nothing of that pro-
greffive and accumulated improvement of ages
and generations linked together, which is indif-
penfably neceflary to the perfection of arts and
faiences- CHATTELUH.

DIGNITY OF CHARACTER.

THE fublime, fays Longinus, is often nothing
but the echo or image of magnanimity j and
where this quality appears in any one, even
though not a fyllable be uttered, it excites our ap-
plaufe and admiration ; as may be obferved of the
famous (ilence of Ajax in the Qdyfley, which ex-
prefles more noble difdain and refolute indigna-
tion than any language can convey Were I

Alexander, faid Parmenio, I would accept of thefs
offers made by Darius. So -would I too, replied
Alexander, were I Parmenio. This faying is ad-
mirable, fays Longinus, from a like principle.

K 2 Co!

ii2 CHARACTER.

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 comple-
ting the csnquejl cf the "world. " Alexander/'
faid the Prince of Conde, who always admired
this paflage, " abandoned by his foldiers among
" barbarians not yet fully fubdued, felt in himfelf
" fuch a dignity and right of empire, that he could
" not believe it poffible that any one fhould re-
u fufa to obey him. Whether in Europe or in
" Afia, among Greeks or Perfians, all was indif-
" ferent to him ; wherever he found men, he fan-
11 cied he would find fubjecls." — The confidant
of Medea, in the tragedy, recommends caution
and fubmiffion ; and enumerating all the diftrefles
of the unfortunate heroine, afks her what fhe has
to fupport her againft her numerous and impla-
cable enemies. Myfelf, replies {he ; myfeJft I fay ;
and it is enough* Boileau juftly recommends this
pafiage as an inftance of true fublime.

When Phocion, the modeft, the gentle Pho-
cion, was led to execution, he turned to one of
his fellow-fufferers who was lamenting his own
hard fate: // it not glory enough for yout fays he,
that you die "with Phocion.

Place in oppofition the picture which Tacitus
draws of Vitellius fallen from empire ; prolonging
his ignominy from a wretched love of life; deli-
vered over to the mercilefs rabble ; tofled, buf-

CHARACTER." 113

feted, and kicked about ; conftrained, by their
holding a poinard under his chin, to raife his head
and expofe himielf to every contumely. What
abject infamy ! What low humiliation ! Yet even
here, fays the hiftorian, he difcovered fome fymp-
toms of a mind not wholly degenerate. To a tri-
bune who infulted him, he replied, I am ftill youl
emperor,

We never excufe the abfolute want of fpirit
and dignity of character, or a proper fenfe of
what is due to one's felf in fociety and the com-
mon intercourfe of life.- This vice conftitutes
what we properly call meannefs ; when a man
ean fubmit to the bafeft flavery, in order to gain
his ends ; fawn upon thofe who abufe him, and
degrade himfelf by intimacies and familiarities
with undeferving inferiors. A certain degree of
generous pride or felf-value is fo requifite, that
the abfence of it in the mind difpleafes after the
fame manner as the want of a nofe, eye, or any
of die mod material features of the face or mem-
bers of the body. The abfence of a virtue may.
often be a vice, and that of the highefl kind ; as
in the inilance of ingratitude as well as meannefsi
Where we expect a beauty, the difappointment
gives an uneafy fenfation, and produces a real de-r
ibrmity. An abjeclnefs of character, likewife,
is difguftful and contemptible in another view..
Where a man has no fenfe of value in himfelf, we
K 3 are-

H4 CHARACTER.

are not likely to have any higher eftimate of him.
And if the fame perfon who crouches to his fu-
periors, is infolent to his inferiors (as often hap-
pens), this contrariety of behaviour, inftead of
correcting the former vice, aggravates it ex-
tremely, by the addition of a vice ftill more odi-
ous.— He muft be a very fuperficial thinker, who
imagines that all inftances of mutual deference
are to be underftood in earned, and that a man
•would be more efteemable for being ignorant of
his own merits and accomplimments. A fmall
bias towards modefty, even in the internal fen-
timents, is favourably regarded, efpecially in
young people ; and a ftrong bias is required in
the outward behaviour. But this excludes not
a noble pride and fpirit, which may openly dif-
play itfelf in its full extent when one lies under
calumny or oppreffion of any kind. The gene-
rous contumacy of Socrates, as Cicero calls it,
has been highly celebrated in all ages ; and when
joined to the ufual modefty of his behaviour,
forms a ihining character. Iphicrates the Athe-
nian, being accufed of betraying the intereft of
his country, afkedhis accufer, Would you, fays he,
on a like occajion, have been guilty of that crime?
By no means, replied the other. And can you then
imagine, cries the hero, that Iphicrates -would be
guilty? In fhort, a generous fpirit and felf-value,
well-founded, decently difguifed, and courage-

oufly

CHARLES I. uj

eufiy 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 pofiefibr. In or-
dinary characters, we approve of a bias towards
modefty, which is a quality immediately agreeable
to others. The vicious excefs of the former vir-
tue, namely, infolence or haughtinefs, is immedi-
ately difagreeable to others : the excefs of the
latter is fo to the poflefibr. Thus are the boun-
daries of thefe two duties adjufled.

HUME.,

A DEFENCE OF THE PUNISHMENT OF
CHARLES I.

CHARLES I. whatever he was in his private
character, which is out of the queftion here, was
certainly a very bad king of England. During a
ccrurfe of many years, and not\vithftanding re-
peated remonftrances, he governed by maxims
utterly fubverfive of the fundamental and free
conftitution of this country, and therefore he
deferved the fevered punifhment. If he was mif-
led by his education or his friends, he was like
any other criminal in the like circumftances, to
be pitied, but by no means to be fpared on that
account. — From the nature of things, it was necef-
fary that the oppofition fhould begin from a few,

who

who may therefore be ftyled a Fa£Hon : but af~
ter the civil war (which neceffarily enfued from
the King's obftinacy, and in which he had given
repeated inftances of diflimulation and treachery),
there was evidently no fafety either for the faction,
or the nation mort of his death. It is to be re-
gretted that the fituation of things was fuch, that
the fentence could not be pafied by the whole na-
tion, or their reprefentatives, folamnly aflembled
for that purpofe. I am fenfible indeed that the
generality of the nation at that time would not
have voted the death of their Sovereign ; but this
was not owing to any want of a juft fenfe of the
wrongs he had done them, but to an opinion of
the facrednefs of kingly power, from which very
few of the friends of liberty in thofe times, efpe-
eially among the Prefbyterians who were the
majority, could entirely divert themfelves. Such
a tranfaclion would have been an immortal ho-
nour to this country, whenever that fuperflitious
notion fhall be obliterated : a notion which has
been extremely ufeful in the infant ftate of fo-
ciety ; but which, like other fuperflitions, fubfifla-
long after it hath ceafed to be of ufe.

PRIESTLEY..

CHASTITY. 117

THE MERIT OF CHASTITY DERIVED
FROM ITS UTILITY.

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 chaflity or fidelity to the marriage-bed.
Without fuch an 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 ftricter over the one fex
than over the other. — Thefe rules have all a re-
ference to generation ; 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 principle whence they firft arife ; and
this in all matters of tafte and fentiment. The
imagination is influenced by aflbciations of ideas;
which, though they arife at firft from the judge-
ment, are not eafily altered by every particular
exception that occurs to us. To which we may
add, in the prefent cafe of chaftity, that the ex-
ample of the old would be pernicious to the
young ; and that women, continually forefeeing
that a certain time would naturally bring them
the liberty of indulgence, would naturally advance

that

n8 CHASTITY.

that period, and think more lightly of this
duty fo rcquifite 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 nearefl rela-
tions, or any intercourfe of love between them
ratified by law and cuftom. Incejl therefore be-
ing pernicious in a fuperior degree, has alfo a
fuperior turpitude and moral deformity annexed
to it. — What is the reafon why, by the Athenian
law, one might marry a half-fifter by the father
but not by the mother ? Plainly this : The man-
ners of the Athenians were fo referred, that a
man was never permitted to approach the wo-
mens apartment, even in the fame family, unlefs
where he vifited his own mother. His ftep-
mother and her children were as much (hut up
from him as the women of any other family j and
there was as little danger of' any criminal corre-
fpondence between them. Uncles and nieces for
a like reafon might marry at Athens ; but neither
thefe, nor half brothers and fifters, could contract
that alliance at Rome, where die intercourfe was
more open between the fexes. Public utility is
the caufe of all thefe variations.

HUME.

THE

CHILDREN.

THE DIFFERENT CAPACITIES OF

CHILDREN.

FORWARD prating children ufually make but'
ordinary men : I know no obfervation more cer-
tain or general than this. There is nothing more
difficult, than to diftinguim in children between
real ftupidity and that apparent dulnefs which is
die ufual indication of ftrong intellects. It may
appear ftrange at firft fight, that two fuch different
extremes fhould be indicated by the fame figns ;
and yet it is neverthelefs what we ought to ex-
pect : For at an age when we have as yet acqui-
red no true ideas, all difference betweeu a child
of genius and one that has none, is, that the lat-
ter admits only of falfe ideas of things ; while
the former, meeting with none but fuch, refufes
to admit any- Both therefore appear to be
equally dull; the one, becaufe he has no capacity
for the comprehenfion of things ; and the other,
becaufe the reprefentations of things are not
adapted to his capacity. The only means to di-
ftinguim between them depend on accident,
which may .offer to the latter fome idea withia
his comprehenfion ; whereas the former is al-
ways the fame in all places and circumftances.
Cato himfelf, during his infancy, was efteemed
by his whole family as almoft a fool : he was par-
ticularly

izo CHILDREN.

ticularly referved and obftinate, which was all
they could judge of him. It was in the ami-
chamber of Sylla that his uncle firft learnt to
know him better. Poffibly, had he not been in-
troduced thither, he might have paffed for a
mere brute till he had arrived at years of difcro
tion. If Csefar had not alfo furvived, that very
Cato might have been treated as a vifionary and a
madman, who had penetration enough to read his
deftruclive genius, and to forefee, at fo great a

diftance, his fatal projects How fubjecl are

thofe who judge precipitately of children to be
egregioufly deceived ! They often betray in this
lefs judgment than the children of whom they
judge.

The apparent facility with which children feerrt
t<3 learn, operates greatly to their prejudice;
and though we do not obferve it," it is a plain
proof they learn nothing. The delicate texture
of their brain reflects, like a mirror, every object
prcfented to them ; but nothing penetrates the
fubftance, or remains behind : a child retains the
words, but the ideas accompanying them are re-
flected back again ; thofe who hear him repeat
may underftand v.-hat he means, but he. himfelf
knows nothing of the matter. — Although the
memory and judgment are two faculties eflen-
tially different ; yet the one cannot unfold itfelf
without the other. Before a child arrives at years
i of

CHILDREN. T2t

of under (landing, he entertains not the ideas,
but (imply the images of things ; the difference
between which confifts in this, that fuch images
are only the direct paintings of perceptible objects,
and ideas are the notions of fuch objects deter-
mined by their refpective relations to each other.
A fingle image may fubfift in the mind that is
fenfible of it ; but every idea neceffarily fuppofes
the concomitance of others. To fimple imagi-
nation, or the mere formation of images, no-
thing more is neceffary than to have feen ob-
jects; but to conceive any thing about their ex-
iftence, or to form ideas of them, it is required
that we fhould be able to compare them. Our
fenfations are merely paflive ; whereas our per-
ceptions, or the ideas formed in confequence of
thofe fenfations, arife from an active principle
capable of judging of them.

ROUSSEAU.

THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION,
IrsPROGRESS AND ESTABLISHMENT IX THE
ROMAN EMPIRE.

RELIGION in man is the effect of a fenfe
of his misfortunes, and of the fear of inviuble
powers.

Moft legiflators have availed themfelves of thefe
motives to govern the people, and Mill more to

VOL. I. f L en-

i:s CKRISTIAXITT.

enflave them. Some of them have afierted, thai
they held the right of commanding from heaven
itfelf ; and it is thus that theocracy has been
eftabliflied.

If the religion of the Jews has had a mci-e
fublime o'rigin, it has not always been exempt
from thofe inconveniences which neceflarily ariie
from the ambition of priefts in a theocratic form
of government.

Chriftianity fucceeded the Jcwifli inflitution.
The fubjection that Rome, millrefs of the world,
was under to the moft favage tyrants ; the dread-
ful miferies which die luxury of a court and the
maintenance of armies had occafioned through-
out this vail empire under the reign of the Neros ;
the fucceffive irruptions of the barbarians, who
difmembered this great body ; the lofs of provinces
either by revolt or invafion ; all thefe natural
evils had already prepared the minds of men for
a new religion ; and the changes in politics muft
probably have induced an innovation in the form
of worfliip. In Paganifm, which had exifted for
fo many ages, there remained only the fables to
which it owes its origin, the folly or the vices of
its gods, the avarice of its priefls, and the infamy
and licentious conduct of the kings who fup-
ported them. Then the people, defpairing to ob-
tain relief from their tyrants upon earth, had re-
couvfc to heaven for proteclion.

Oiri-

CHRISTIANITY. 123

Christianity appeared, and afforded them com-
fort, at the fame time that it taught them to ,
fuffer with patience. While the tyranny and li-
centioufnefs of princes tended to the deftruction
of Paganifm as well as to that of die empire, the
fubjects who had been opprefled and fpoiled, and
who had embraced the new doctrines, were com-
pleting its ruin by the examples they gave of thofe
virtues which always accompany the zeal of new-
made profel) tes. But a religion that arofe in the
midft of public calamity, muft neceffarily give its
preachers a conilderable influence over the un-
happy perfons who took refuge in it. Thus the
power of the clergy commenced, as it were, with
the gofpel.

From the remains of Pagan fuperftitions and
philofophic feels a code of rights and tenets was
formed, which the Simplicity of the primitive
Chriflians fanclified with real and affecting piety;
but which at the fame time left the feed of de-
bates and controverues, from whence arofe a
variety of paflions, difguifed and dignified under
the name of zeal. Thefe diffentions produced
fchools, doctors, a tribunal, and a hierarchy.
Chriftianity had begun to be preached by a fet
of fi mermen, deftitute of every knowlodpre but
that of the gofpel ; it was entirely eiiablifhed by
bifliops, who formed the church. After this it
gained ground by degrees, till at length it at-
L 2 traded

124 CHRISTIANITY.

tracled the notice of the emperors. Some of
thele tolerated Chriftianity either from motives
of contempt, or humanity ; others perfecuted it.
Perfecution haftene'd its progrefs, for which to-
leration had paved the way. Connivance and
profcription, clemency and rigour, were all equally
advantageous to it. The fenfe of freedom fo
natural to the human mind, induced many per-
fons to embrace it in its infancy, as it has made
others reject it fince it has been eftablifhed.
This fpirit of independency, rather adapted to
truth than to novelty, would neceflarily have in-
duced a multitude of perfons of all ranks to be-
come converts to Chriftianity, if even the cha-
racters it bore had not been calculated to infpire
veneration and refpedt.

RAYNAL.

CHRISTIANITY,

NOT ADAPTED TO MAKE A CONSTITUTIONAL
PART IN ANY SYSTEM OF LEGISLATION.

CHRISTIANITY is in its principles an univerfal
religion j having nothing exclufive, nothing local,
nothing peculiar to one country any more than
to another. Its Divine Author, embracing all
mankind in his boundlefs charity, came to remove
thoie barriers that feparated the nations from
each other, and to unite all mankind in a people

of

CHRISTIANITY. 125

of brethren : fuch is the true fpirit of the
gofpel.

Thofe, therefore, who would make Chriftianity
to be a national religion, and introduce it as a
conftitutional part in a fyftem of legiflation, have
been guilty of two faults ; the one pernicious to
religion, and the other to the ilate. They have
departed from the fpirit of Jefus Chrift, whofe
kingdom is not of this world •, and, confounding
our fublunary interefts with tliofe of religion, have
fullied its celeilial purity; converted it into a
fcourge in the hands of tyrants, and an inftru-
ment of perfecution. They have done no lefs in-
j'lry to the fulutary maxims of policy; as inftead
of fimplitying the machine of government, they
have rendered it more complicated ; they have
added to it foreign and fuperfluous refources, and
by fubje&ing it to two different and frequently
contrary motions, have occafioned thofe con-
vulfions which are felt in all Chriftian ftates .in
which religion hath entered into the political
fyftem. — Perfed Chriltianity is an univerfal fo-
cial inflitution ; but not a political eitablifhment,
nor doth it concur to the fupport of any good
particular inftitution. All human eftablifliments
fcre founded on human paflions, and are fup-
ported by them : whatever combats and deftrovs
the paffions, therefore, is by no means proper to
ftrengthen thofe eftablifliments. Hew can that
L 3 -which

126 CHRISTIAN JTY.

which detaches our hearts from the things of the
world, induce us to intereft ourfelves more
ftrongly in what is doing here ? How can that
which engages our thoughts only towards another
country attach us more powerfully to this ?
Chriftbnity, by making men jufl, moderate, and
peaceable, is very advantageous to fociety in ge-
neral : but it weakens the force of the political
fpring j it renders the movements of the ma-
chine more complex ; it breaks the unity of the
body moral;. and being infufficiently appropriated
to the purpofes of government, muft either de-
generate, or remain a detached and embarraffing
fubjedr.. — The fcience of falvation and govern-
ment are very different. To infifl that the for-
mer includes all others, is the fanaticifin of a
narrow mind. Such a v/ay of thinking is like
that of the alchemifts, who, in the art of making
gold, conceive they alfo fee that of the univerfal
medicine ; or like that of the Mahometans, who
pretend that all arts and fciences are to be found
in the Alcoran. The doclrines of die gofpel
have but one object in view, which is the uni—
verfal falvation of mankind. Their liberties and
properties here below have nothing to do with
it. The gofpel infpires humanity rather than
patriotifm, and tends rather to the forming of
men than citizens. Patriotifm and humanity
arc two virtues incompatible with each other in

any

CIVIL COMMOTIONS. 127

i

any great degree, and particularly in a whole
people. The legiilator who would unite them
both, will obtain neither one nor the other.
Their union never was, nor ever will be, known 5
becaufe it is contrary to nature,, and becaufe it is
irnpoflible to give two objects to one paffion.

ROUSSEIU.

CIVIL COMMOTIONS.

ALWAYS to throw, without diflinction, the
blame of all diforders in the ftate upon the prince,
would introduce a fatal error in politics, and
ferve as a perpetual apology for treafon and re-
bellion : as if the turbulency of the great, and
madnefs of the people, were not, equally with
the tyranny of princes, an evil incident to hu-
man tbciety, and no lefs carefully to be guarded
againft in every well-regulated conititution. —
We muft not, therefore, imagine, that all the
ancient princes, who were unfortunate in their
government, were alfo tyrannical in their con-
duel, and that the feditions of (the people pro-
ceeded always from fome invafion of their liber-
ties and privileges by the monarch. — Men, in-
ftead of complaining againft the manners of the
age and the form of conftitution, are very apt to
impute all errors to the perfon who has the mif-

fortune

128 CLIMATE.

fortune to be entrufted with the reins of em-
pire. HUME.

THE DIFFERENCE OF MEN IN DIFFERENT
CLIMATES.

• A COLD air conftringes the extremities of the
external fibres of the body, (this appears in the
countenance; in cold weather people look thin-
ner) : this increafes their ftrength, and favours
the return of the blood from the extreme parts to
the heart. It contracts thofe very fibres •, of
courfe it increafes their force and elafticity.—
People are therefore more vigorous in cold cli-
mates : here the action of die heart and die re-
action of the extremities of the fibres are better
performed; the circulation goes on much brifker;
the heart lias more power. This fuperiority of
ftrength rimft produce various effects ; for in-
fiance, a greater boldnefs, that is, more cou-
rage ; a greater fenfe of fuperiority, that i?.,
lefs defire of revenge ; a greater opinion of fe-
curity, that is, more franknefs, lefs fufpicion,
policy, and cunning. In fliort, this muft be
productive of very different tempers. Put a
man into a clofe warm place, and.,, for the rea-
fons above given, he will feel a great faintnefs.
If under this circumftance you propofe a bold
enterprife to him, you will find him very little

dif-

CLIMATE. .123

»

difpofed towards it: his prefent weaknefs will
throw him into defpondency ; he ,will be afraid
of every thing, being in a (late of total incapacity.
The inhabitants of warm countries are, like old
men, timorous ; the people in cold countries are,
like young men, brave.

The nerves that terminate from all parts in
the furface of the body, form each a nervous
bundle or papilla. In warm climates, where the
fkin is relaxed, the ends of the nerves are ex-
panded, and laid open to the weakeft actions
of the Imalleft objects. In cold countries the
{kin is conftringed, and the papillae comprefled:
the fenfation does not reach the brain, but
when it is very ftrong. Now imagination, tafte,
fenfibility, and vivacity, depend on an infinite
number of fmali fenfations.

The outermoft part of a flieep's tongue, to the
naked eye, feems covered with papillae. On thefe
papillae are feen through a microfcope fmall fila-
ments like a kind of down; between the papillae
are pyramids, fliaped towards the end like pincers.
Very likely, thefe pyramids are the principal or-
gans of tafte.

I caufed the half of a tongue to be frozen, and!
obferving it with die naked eye, I found tlig
papillae confiderably diminimed; even fome rows
of them were funk into their fheath. The outer-
moil; part I examined with the microfcope, and

per-

C L I M A T t.

perceived no pyramids. In proportion as the
froit went ofT, the papillae feemed to the naked
eye to rife, and with the microlcope the miliary
glands began to appear.

i This obfervation confirms what I have been
faying, that in cold countries the cutaneous glands
and the nervous papillae are lefs expanded :
they fink deeper into their fheaths, or they
are fheltered from the action of external ob-
jects; confequently they are lefs capable of lively
fenfations. — — In cold countries, people have
very little fcnfibiiity for pleafure; in temperate
countries, they have more ; in warm countries,
their fenfibility is exquifite. As climates are
diftinguifhed by degrees of latitude, we might
difhinguifh them alfo in foine meafure by thofe
of fenfibility. I have been at the opera in Eng-
land and in Italy, where I have feen the fame
pieces and the fame performers : and yet the
fame mufic produces fuch different effects on the
two nations ; one is fo cold and phlegmatic, and
the other fo lively and enraptured, that it feems
iilmoft inconceivable.

It is the fame with regard to pain. The
fibres of rhe people of the north are ftronger,
and lefs capable of irritation and fenfibility, than
thofe of the inhabitants of warm countries; con-
&quently they arc lefs fenfible of pain. You
inuft flay a Mufcovitc alive to make him feel.

From

C L I M A T £. 131

•*— From this delicacy of organs peculiar to warm
climates, it follows that the mind is moft fenfibly
moved by whatever relates to the union of the two
fexes: here every thing leads to this object. —
In northern climates, fcarce has the animal part
of love a power of making itfelf felt. In tempe-
rate climates, love, attended by a thoufand appen-
dages, endeavours to pleafe by things that have at
fir ft the appearances, though not the reality, of
this paiTion. In warmer climates, it is liked for
its own fake ; it is the only caufe of happinefs ;
it is life itfelf. — In fouthern countries, a machine
of a delicate frame, but ftrong fenfibility, refigns
itfelf either to a love which rifes, and is inceflantly
hud,, in a feraglio ; or to a paflion which leaves
women in greater independence, and is confe-
quently expofed to a thoufand inquietudes. In
northern regions, a machine robuft and vigorous
finds a pleafure in whatever is apt to throw the
fpirits into motion •, fuch as hunting, travelling,
war, wine. If we travel towards the north, we
meet with people who have few vices, many-
virtues, and a great {hare of franknefs and fin-
cericy. If we draw near the fouth, we fancy
ourfelves entirely removed from the verge of mo-
rality : here the ftrongeft paflions are productive
of all manner of crimes, each man endeavouring,
let the means be what they will, to indulge his
inordinate defires. In temperate climates, we

find

132 CLIMATE.

find the inhabitants inconflant in their manner?,
as well as in their vices and virtues : the climate
has not a quality determinate enough to fix them.

The heat of the climate may be to exceflive as
to deprive the body of all vigour and flrength.
Then the faintnefs is communicated to the mind;
there is no curiofity, no enterprife, no generofity
of fentiment ; the inclinations are all pofitive ; in-
dolence conftitutes the utmoft happinefs; fcarcely
any punifhment is fo fevere as mental employ-
ment, and flavery is more fupportable than force
and vigour of mind neceflary for human conduct.

MONTESQJJIEU.

THE INFLUENCE OF CLIMATE ON MAN-
KIND.

THE foil is not a matter of indifference in the
cultivation of mankind : they are not all fuch
as they might have been if born in temperate
climates. The difadvantage is viilbie in either
extreme. A man is not planted like a tree in
any country to grow there continually, but is fre-
quently changing his place ; and he who removes
from one extreme to the other, is obliged to go
twice as far to arrive at the fame point, as he
who fets out from a line drawn between both.
If the inhabitant of a temperate clime vifits fuc-
cefiively both extremes, his advantages are further
3 evident

CLIMATE. 133

evident : for although he {hould undergo the fame
modification as one that (hould pafs from one
extreme to the other, yet he would depart each
way the lefs by half from his natural conftitution.
Thus a Frenchman may live in Guinea or in Lap-
land; but a negro v/ould not live fo well at Tor-
neo, nor a Samoyad at Benin. It appears alfo
that the organization of the brain is lefs perfect
in the two extremes. Neither the Negroes nor
the Laplanders have the natural underftandings
of the nations of milder climates.

ROUSSEAU-

THE INFLUENCE OF CLIMATE.

IF the greater or lefs ftrength of mind de-
pended on the different climate of countries, it
would be impoffible, confidering the age of the
world, but that what was in this refpect moil
favoured, mould by its progrefs have acquired a
great fuperiority over all others. The efteem
which different nations have by turns obtained
with refpect to fcience, and the contempt into
which they have fucceffively fallen, prove the
little influence climates have on the mind. The
fuperiority of certain nations over others in the
arts and fciences, can only be attributed to moral
caufes ; there are no people privileged in point

'VOL. I. M f of

'$34 COMMERCE.

of virtue, genius, and courage : Nature, in
refpe£t, has not made a partial diftribution of her
favours, HELVETIUS.

COMMERCE
FAVOURABLE TO CIVILIZATION AND

PEACE.

THERE are many things which in themfelves
are morally neither good nor bad ; but they are
productive of confequences which are ftrongly
marked with one or other of thefe characters.
Thus commerce, though in itfelf a moral nullity,
has had a confjderable influence in tempering
the human mind. It was the want of objects in
the ancient world which occafioned fuch a rude
and perpetual turn for war. Their time hung
on their hands without the means of employ-
ment. The indolence they lived in afforded lei-
fure for mifchief ; and being all idle at once,
and equal in their circumflances, they were ea-
fily provoked or induced to action.

But the introduction of commerce furnimed
the world with objects, which in their extent
reach every man, and give him fomething to
think about, and fomething to do : by thefe his
attention is mechanically drawn from the pur*
iiiits which a ftate of indolence and an unem-
ployed

COMMENCE. 135

ployed mind Occanoned ; and he trades with the
fame countries which former ages, tempted by
their productions, and too indolent to jjurchafc
them, would have gone to war with.

The condition of the world is materially-
changed by the influence of fcience and com-
merce \ it is put into a fitnefs not only to admit
of, but to defire an extenfion of, civilization. The
world has undergone its divifions of empire, riie
feveral boundaries of which are known and fet-
tled. The idea of conquering countries like the
Greeks and Romans, dees not now exift; and
experience has exploded now the notion of go-
ing to war for the fake of profit. In fhort, the
objects of war are exceedingly diminished, and
there is now left fcarcely any thing to quarrel
about, but what arifes frcm the demon of fo«-
ciety, Prejudice, and the confequent fullennefs
and untraclablenefs of the temper.

THOS.

CONSCIENCE.

ALL the morality of our actions lies in the
judgment we ourfelves form of them. All the
rules of morality are written in indelible charac-
ters on the heart of man. I have only to confult
myfelf to know what I ought to do ; all that I
M 2 feel

CONSCIENCE.

feel to be right is right; whatever I feel to be
wrong, is wrong : Confcience is the ableft of all
cafuifts^ and it is only when we are trafficking
with her that we have recourfe to the fubtilties
of reafon. It is pretended, that every one con-
tributes to the public good for his own inte-
reft ; but whence comes it that the virtuous man
contributes to it to his prejudice ? Can a man
lay down his life for his own intereft ? The
chief of our concerns, indeed, is that of our-
felves; yet how often have we been told by the
monitor within, that to purfue our own intereft
at the expence of others would be to do wrong !
Which is moft agreeable for us to do, and leaves
the moft pleafmg reflection behind it, an acl: of
benevolence or of mifchief ? For whom are we
moft interefted at our theatres ? Do we take plea-
fure in acts of villany ? or do we fhed tears at
feeing the authors of them brought to puniih-
ment ? It has been faid, tliat every thing is in-
different to us in which we are not interefted :
the contrary, however, is certain, as the foothing
endearments of friendfhip and humanity confole
us under afflictions ; and even in our plcafures we
(hould be too folitary, too miferable, if we had
nobody to partake them with us. If there be no-
thing moral in the heart of man, whence arife
thofe tranfports of admiration and efteem we en-
tertain for heroic actions, and great minds ?

What

CONSCIENCE,

I3T

What has this virtuous' enthu£afm to do with our
private intereft ? Wherefore do I rather wifh to
be an expiring Cato, than a triumphant Caefar ?
Of what hurt is the wickednefs of a Cataline to
me ? Am 1 afraid of falling a victim to his vil-
lany ? Wherefore do I then look upon him with
the fame horror as if he was my cotemporary ?
We do not hate the wicked only becaufe their
vices are hurtful, but alfo becaufe they ars
wicked^

Amidft all the inhuman abfurd forms of
worfhip, amidft all the prodigious diverfity of
manners and characters, you will every where
find the fame ideas of juftice and honefty, the
fame notions of good and evil. A-ntient Pa-
ganifm adopted the moft abominable deities,
which it would have punifhed on earth as infa-
mous criminals -, deities that prefented no othes
picture of fupreme happinefs- than the commiffiou
of crimes, and the gratification^of their paflions.
But vice, armed even with facred authority, de-
fcendecl in vain on earth; moral inftincT: influen-
ced the human heart to revolt againft it,. Even
in- celebrating the debaucheries of Jupiter, the
world admired and refpecled the continence of
Zenocrates ; the chafte Lucretia adored the im-
pudent Venus. There exifts therefore evidently
in the heart of man an innate principle ©£ ju—
flice and. goodnefs ; by which, in fpite of ouu
M 3

138 CONSCIENCE.

own maxims, we approve or condemn the ac-
tions of ourfelves and others. To this principle
I give the appellation of conference. But we are
told by fome philosophers, that there is nothing
in the human mind but what is inftilled by expe-
rience ; nor can we judge of any thing but from
the ideas we have acquired. To confute this
opinion, we need only to diftinguifh between our
acquired ideas and our natural fentiments ; for
we are fenfible before we are intelligent 5 and as
we do not learn to defire our own good, and to
avoid what is evil, but poflefs this defire immedi-
ately from nature ; fo the love of virtue and ha-
tred of vice, are as natural as the love of ourfelves.
The operations of confcience are not intellectual,
but fentimental : for though all our ideas are ac-
quired from without, the fentiments which efti-
mate them arife from within j and it is by thefe
alone that we know the agreement or difagree-
ment which exifts between us and thofe things
which we ought to feek or fhun.

To exift, is, with us, to be fenfible ; our fenfi-
bility is inconteftably prior to our intelligence ;
and we were poflefled of fentiment before we
formed ideas. Whatever was the caufe of our
being, it hath provided us with fentiments agree-
able to our conftitution ; nor can it pofiibly be
denied that thefe at leaft are innate. Thefe fen-
timents are, in the individual, the love of himfelf,

aver-

CONSCIENCE.

averfion to pain, dread of death, and the defire of
happinefs. But if, as it cannot be doubted, man
is by nature a fociable being, or at leaft formed
to become fuch, his fociability abfolutely requires
that he fhould be furnifhed with other innate
fentiments relative to his fpecies : For to confider
only the phyfical wants of men, it would cer-
tainly be better for them to be difperfed than af-
fembled.

Now it is from this moral fyftem, formed by
its duplicate relation to himfelf and his fellow-
creatures, that the impulfe of confcience arifes.
To know what is virtuous, is not to love virtue.
Man has no innate knowledge of virtue ; but no
fooner is it made known to him by reafon, than
confcience induces him to love and admire it.
This is the innate fentiment I mean.

ROUSSEAU.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

THE confcience is not an original infallible
guide appointed by God in our breafcsj it is
formed as reafon, imagination, and the other
powers of the mind, by education, habits, exam-
ples, principles, and laws ; and it differs greatly
according as we have been differently affe&ed by
thofe circumftances. A perfon who has been
taught to confider bappinefs as the end of life,

and

140 CONSCIENCE.

and to acquire real knowledge and virtue as ths
means of that happinefs, has a virtuous fenfibi-
lity formed, which will ever direct him right,
and will make him always happy. By a procefs
fomething fimilar, an infinite variety of falfe
confciences are formed. A man who has been
taught to confider interefl as the end of life,
and induftry, attention, fervility, as means,
makes his experiments and trials with that ob-
ject in view, and his underftanding and con-
fcience will be totally different from the former.
Religion, that firft and beft of bleffings, has been
mifinterpreted and mifunderftood, fo as to fur-
nifh an infinite variety of falfe principles of con-
duct. The intent and purpofe of it is to lead
men by virtue to happinefs. But there is no fpe*
cies of vice which men have not committed on
one or more of thofe falfe fyflems, which they
have denominated true religion. The reafon of
this is obvious. A man is brought up to his re-
ligion as he is brought up to his trade. He is
told of what articles and doctrines it is to confift :
and that if he does not induce his mind to believe
and practife it, he will lofe the good opinion of
his friends ; he will make them his implacable
enemies ; his fortune will be injured ; his perfon
punifhed ; and after he has been tormented in
in this world, he will be configned to the devil
in the next. Thus are moft religions- taught;

thus

CONSCIENCE. 141

thus are the confciences of men formed to every
fpecies of villany and cruelty : for the genuine
principle of a bigot is hatred of all his fellow-
creatures beyond the inclofures of his own party.
And yet he not only imagines he has a good
conference, but triumphs in its execrable tefti-
mony.

If we defcend into the common walks of life,
and confider the difference of mens apprehen-
fions on the fubjecl: of right and wrong, .we mall
fee that the fatisfa&ion arifing from the teftimony
of their confciences muft be extremely different.
A fcale might be formed on the cuftoms and
principles of trade and commerce, graduated
from difhonefty and fraud to the extreme points
of honour and juftice. Mens confciences, in
their various employments, are adjufted on this
kind of fcale ; and we may generally judge of the
nature of a man's underftanding, the elevation of
his mind, and the delicacy and genuinenefs of his
moral fenfibility, from the nature of his employ-
ment.

Falfe confciences, when they are formed with
care on fome political, moral, or religious prepof-
feflions, are incurable fources of ill. They are
like many diforders in the animal oeconomy,
where the, patient is fenfible of his danger;
where temporary and fallacious gratifications
render him fecwe and fatisfied ; and where no

re-

142 CONSCIENCE.

remedies can be applied, becaufe his own con-
currence and his own endeavours are requisite,

and he cannot fee the neceffity of them. It is

to be hoped no perfon will be fo puerile as to fay,
that if men think themfelves right, they muft
be fo ; and the utmofl that can be expected of
them, is to act on their opinions. It may be a
defirable matter, that men (hould proceed thus
far in the path of morality, and act fmcerely and
honeftly on thofe principles which they profefs,
whether good or evil. Hypocrify, added to ig-
norance and vicious principles, increafes the mif-
chief of them ; and yet we find it generally aN
tending them. Men have not only falfe ideas
and falfe confciences given them-, but they are
alfo taught to wear mafques, whenever they think
proper to act contrary even to their wretched
principles. If we remove this hypocrify, it is
true we remove an evil. We fhould only then
have errors to encounter with, which might
either be prevented by a rational and jufl educa-
tion, or by a diligent and careful attention to the
nature and happinefs of man. Perfons, ill-edu-
cated, ill-formed, and with falfe and delufive con-
fciences, are, however, in a much worfe ftate than
common and flagrant fmners, whofe actions are
in oppofition to their minds, and who are often
reftored to virtue by1 experiencing the miferies of
vice. It is not uncommon to fee thofe who l>ave

been.

CONSCIENCE. 143

been led into excefles by their paflions recover
themfelves, and become regular and happy. It
is very uncommon to fee a man in any profeffion
acting above the prepofieflions of it. It is very
uncommon to fee a charitable fe&ary, or a per-
fon who has had his mind formed on narrow
gloomy cruelty, recover any degree of liberality,
good-nature, and humanity. Men in this fituatien
are like lunatics, the main fpring of whofe minds
is a falfe and inefficient one. And we might as
well fay lunatics are as they ought to be, becaufe
they think fo ; as that men who aft ill on religious
or political principles are right, becaufe they are
of that opinion. The proper and real happinefs
of man, as an individual, as a member of fociety,
and a part of the univerfal empire of God, is to
be procured only by real knowledge and virtue.
It is therefore as much our duty, in every cafe,
to confider and examine our principles, as it is
honeftly to act on them when we are fatisfied they
are right. WILLIAMS.

LIBERTY OF CONSCIENCE.

"WE can comprehend things no otherwife than
as they prefent themfelves to our perceptions;
nor is it poflible for any one to reftrain his mind
from receiving a variety of propofitions either
as true or- as falfe, when clearly underftood.

It

144 CONTEMPT.

It is not in our power to think or judge accord-
ing to the opinions of another ; nor are we at
liberty, in any cafe, to believe or difbelieve, or
fufpend our aflent, juft as humour or fancy may
direct, or others command. In thefe particulars,
we muft be guided by that light which arifes
from the nature of things, fo far as it is perceived ;
and by thofe evidences and arguments which
may appear to the mind, and convince the judg-
ment. No one can give a rational aflent to any
thing but in the ufe of his reafon. How then is it
poffible he fhould receive as reafonable what ap-
pears to him to be unreafonable ? or that he fhould
receive as a certain truth what does not come to
his own mind with clear and convincing evi-
dences ? Nor can thofe arguments which may be
urged, although valid in themfelves, ever pro-
duce an alteration in opinion, if they do not ap-
pear to his own judgment obvious in their con-
nexion, and fufficient for that purpofe. t

FELL.

CONTEMPT.

, IF the contempt of mankind be infupportable,
Jt is becaufe it prefages evil, as it in part de-
prives us of the advantages that arife from the
union of men in fociety: for contempt implies a
i want

CONTROVERSY. 145

*

want of attention in mankind to ferve us, and pre-
fents the time to come as void of pleafures, and
filled with pains. HELYETIUS.

CONTROVERSY.

WHERE is the opinion, fo rational, and Co
plaufible, that the fpirit of controverfy cannot
(hake it ? Can any pofition be fo abfurd, as to
render fpecious arguments incapable of fupport-
ing it ? When a perfon is once convinced, either
of the truth or of the falfity of any thing, he
immediately from a paflion for difputation, be-
comes attached to his own idea, and foon feeks
folely, to acquire a fuperiority over his adverfary,
by dint of the powers of imagination and by
fubtilty ; efpecially when fome obfcure queftion,
involved by its nature in darknefs, is the point in
debate. ARNOBIUS.

RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSIES.

Two men, travelling on the highway, the
one eaft, the other weft, can eafily pafs each
other, if the way be broad enough. But two
men, reafoning upon oppofite principles of re-
ligion, cannot fo eafily pafs without mocking;
though one mould think that the way were alfo,
in that cafe, fufficiently broad, and that each

VOL. I. N f might

CONTROVERSIES.

might proceed without interruption hi his own
courfe. But fuch is the nature of the human
mind, that it always takes hold of every mind
that approaches it; and as it is wonderfully for-
tified and corroborated by an unanimity of fenti-
ments, fo it is fhocked and difturbed by any con-
trariety. Hence the eagernefs which moft people
difcover in a difpute ; and hence their impatience
of oppofition, even in the moft fpeculative and
indifferent opinions.

This principle, however frivolous it may ap-
pear, feems to have been the origin of all religious
wars and divifions. But as this principle is uni-
verfal in human nature, its effects would not
have been confined to one age, and to one fe£l
of religion, did it not there concur with other
more accidental caufes, which raife it to fuch a
height as to produce the greateft mifery and de-
yaftation. Moft religions of the ancient world
arofe in the unknown ages of government, when
men were as yet barbarous and uninftructed, and
the prince as well as peafant was difpofed to re-
ceive with implicit faith, every pious tale or fic-
tion, which was offered him. The magiftrate
embraced the religion of the people, and entering
cordially into the care of facred matters, naturally
acquired an authority in them, and united the
ecclefiaftical with the civil power. But the Chri-
£lian religion arifing, while principles dirs.clly

op-

Co>TTROV£RSIES. 147

oppofite to it were firmly eftablifhed in the polite
part of the world, who defpifed the nation who
broached this novelty; no wonder that, in fuch
circumftances, it was but little countenanced by
the civil magiftrate, and that the priefthood were
allowed to engrofs all the authority in the new
feel:. So bad a ufe did th«y make of this power,
even in thofe early times, that the perfecutions of
Chriftianity may, perhaps, in party be afcribed to
the violence inftilled by them into their followers ;
though it mufl not be diflembled that there were
laws againft external fuperftition amongfl the
Romans as ancient as the time of the twelve
tables; and the Jews as well as Chriftians were
fometimes puniflied by them; though, in general,
thefe laws were not rigoroufly executed. Imme-
diately after the conqueft of Gaul, they forbad
all but the natives io be initiated into the religion
of the Druids ; and this was a kind of perfecu-
tion. In about a century after this conqueft,.
the Emperor Claudius, quite aboliflied that fuper-
ftition by penal laws ; which would have been
a very grievous perfecution, if the imitation
of the Roman manners had not, before hand,
weaned the Gauls from their ancient prejudices.
(S-ttetonius in vita Claudii.) Pliny afcribes the abo-
Htion of Druid fuperftitkms to Tiberius, probably
becaufe that emperor had taken fome fteps to-
wards retraining them.. This is an inftance o£
N 2 the

148 CONTROVERSIES.

the ufual caution and moderation of the Romans
in fuch cafes j and very different from their vio-
lent and fanguinary method of treating the Chri-
ftians. Hence we may entertain a fufpicion,
thofe furious perfecutions of Chriftianity were in
fome meafure owing to the imprudent zeal and
bigotry of the firft propagators of that feet ;
and ecclefiaftical hiftory affords us many reafons
to confirm this fufpicion. After Chriftianity be-
came the eftablifhed religion, the principles of
prieftiy government continued; and engendered
a fpirit of perfecution, which has ever fmce been
the poifon of human fociety, and the fource of
the moft inveterate factions, in every govern-
ment.— There is another caufe (befides the au-
thority of the priefls, and the feparation of the
ecdefiaftical and civil powers) which has contri-
buted to render ChriR-entlcin the fccnc of re-
ligious wars and divifions. Religions, that arife
in ages totsHy^ ignorant and barbarous, confift
jnoftly of traditional tales and fictions, which
may be very different in every fe£l, without be-
ing contrary to each other ; and even when they
are contrary, every one adheres to the tradition
of his own fe£t, without much reafoning and dif-
putation. But as philofophy was widely fpread
over the world at the time when Chriftianity
arofe, the teachers of the new feet were obli-
ged to form a fyftem of fpeculative opinions ;

to

CONTROVERSISES.

to divide with fome accuracy their articles of
faith ; and to explain, comment, confute, and de-
fend with all the fubtilty of argument and fci-
ence. Hence naturally arofe keennefs in difpute,
when the Chriftian religion came to be fplit
into new divifions and herefles. And this keen-
nefs aflifted the priefts in their policy, of be-
getting a mutual hatred and antipathy among
their deluded followers. Se£ts ef philofophy}
in the ancient world, were more zealous than
parties of religion ; but in modern times, parties
of religion are more furious and enraged than
the moft cruel factions that ever arofe from
intereft and ambition. — The civil wars which
arofe fome years ago in Morocco between the
blacks and whites, merely on account of their
complexion, are founded on a pleafarit difference.
We laugh at them; but were things rightly ex-
amined, we afford much more occafion of ridi-
cule to the moors. For what are all the wara of
religion which have prevailed in this polite and
knowing part of the world ? They are certainly
more abfur J than the Moorim civil wars. The
difference of complexion is a fenfible and real
difference : But the difference about an article of
faith, which is utterly abfurd and unintelligible,
is not a difference in fentiment, but a difference
in. a few phrafes and exprefljons, which one
N 3 Eart7

150 CONVERSATION.

party accepts of without underftanding them,
and the other refutes in the fame manner.

HUME.

CONVERSATION.

A VERBAL converfation may be miilaken by
a flownefoof underftanding, or by ahafte of zealj
may be miftated by a weaknefs of memory, or by
arts of defign. The force and fpirit of a conver-
fation may depend upon the occafion which in-
troduced it; upon the obfenrations which pre-
ceded it ; upon the time in which it was pro-
nounced ; upon the gefture by which it was ac-
companied. A converfation related with verbal
accuracy may have diminifhed or increafed its
force, may have acquired a milder or a more
malignant fpirit, in the hands of an artful er an
unfkilful reporter. * *

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

THE laws of converfation are, in genera!, not
to labour over any fubjecr, but to pafs over
eadly, without effort or affectation, from one to
another ; to fpeak occafionally on frivolous as
well «is on ferious fubje£ls ; to remember that
converfation is a relaxation, and not a fencing-

fchool,

CONVERSATION 151

fchool, nor a game of chefs j in a word, to allow
the fancy to range at freedom. You are not to
engrofs the difcourfe to yourfelf, nor to deliver
your opinions in a magifterial tonej as this muft
be very difgufting to the hearers, and prepoflefs
them againft you. — There can be no fituation in
which we are lefs able to conceal our felf-love
than in converfation ; and we are always fure to
lofe by mortifying the pride of others, who will
naturally be defirous of revenging themfelves ;
and their ingenuity feldom fails inftantly to dif-
cover an opportunity. Another defect to be
fhunned is fpeaking like one reading, and having
what is called a well-written converfation. A
converfation ought no more to be like a written
difcourfe, than the latter like a converfation.
"What is pretty fingular is, that thofe who fall into
the former blemifli, feldom efcape the other:
becaufe being in the habit of fpeaking as they
would write, they imagine they ought to write as
they fpeak. It fhould be a rule, that a man can-
not be too much on his guard when he writes to
the public, and never too eafy towards thofe with
whom he converfes.

D' ALEMBERT.

THE

CORN.

THE EXPORTATION OF CORN.

IN inland high countries, remote from the fea,
and whofe rivers are fmall, running from the
country, and not to it, as is the cafe of Switzerland,
great diftrefs may arife from a courfe of bad har-
vefts, if public granaries are not provided and
kept well ftored — Anciently, too, before naviga-
tion was fo general, fhips fo plenty, and commer-
cial connections fo well eftablifhed, even maritime
countries might be occafionally diftreffed by bad
crops : But fuch is now the facility of communi-
cation between thofe countries, that an unre-
ftrained commerce can fcarce ever fail of procu-
ring a fufficiency for any of them. If indeed any
government is fo imprudent as to lay its hands
on imported corn, forbid its exportation, or com-
pel its fale at limited prices, there the people may
fuffer fome famine, from merchants avoiding
their ports. But wherever commerce is known
to be always free, and die merchant abfolute ma-
fter of his commodity, as in Holland, there will
always be a reafonable fupply. — When an ex-
portation of earn takes place, occafioned by a
higher price in fome foreign countries, it is com-
mon to raife a clamour, on the fuppofition that
we ihall thereby produce a domeftic famine.
Then follows a prohibition, founded on the ima-

ginary

CORN. J53

Binary diilrcfs of the poor. The poor to be fure,
if in diflrefs, mould be relieved -, but if the far-
mer could have a high price for his corn from the
foreign demand, muft he by a prohibition of ex-
portation be compelled to take a low price, not
of the poor only, but of every one that eats bread,
even the richeft ? The duty of relieving the poor
is incumbent on the rich ; but by this operation
the whole burden of it is laid on the farmer, who
is to relieve the rich at the fame time. Of the
poor, too, thofe who are maintained by the pa-
rimes, have no right to claim this facrifice of the
farmer ; as, while they have their allowance, it
makes no difference to them whether bread be
cheap or dear. Thofe working poor, who now
mind bufmefs only five or four days in the week,
if bread fliould be fo dear as to oblige them to

\v*crk the V,'ho't £v «»miired bv the command.

' ~ i *

ment, do not feem to be aggrieved, fo as to have
a right to public redrefs. There will then re-
main, comparatively, only a few families in every
diftrict, who from ficknefs, or a great number of
children, will be fo diftrefled by a high price of
corn, as to need relief; and they mould be taken
care of by particular benefactions, without re-
ftraining the farmer's profit. — Thofe who fear
that exportation may fo far drain the country of
corn as to flarve ourfelves, fear what never did,
nor ever can happen. They may as veil, when

they

154 COR N.

they view the tide ebbing towards the fea, fear
that all the water will leave the river. The price
of corn, like water, will find its level. The more
we export, the dearer it becomes at home ; the
more is received abroad, the cheaper it becomes
there : and as foon as thefe prices are equal, the
exportation flops of courfe. As the feafons vary
in different countries, the calamity of a bad har-
veft is never univerfal. If then all ports were al-
ways open, and all commerce free, every mari-
time country would generally eat bread at the
medium price or average of all the harvefts;
which would probably be more equal than we
can make it by our artificial regulations, and
therefore a more fleady encouragement to agri-
culture. The nation would all have bread at the
middle price ; and that nation which at any time
inhumanly refufes to relieve the diftrefles of an-
other nation, deferves no companion when in di-
ftrefs itfelf, FRANKLIN..

COUNTRY.

A COUNTRY is compofed of feveral families:
and as felf-love generally leads us to Hand up for
and fupport our particular families when a con-
trary intereft does not intervene j fo, from the
like felf-love, a, man ftands up for his town or

village j which he calls his native home. The

more

CO U N T R Y.

more extended this native home is, the lefs we
love it j fbr divifion weakens love : it is impoflible
in nature to have a tender love for a family fo
numerous as fcarce to be known.— The candi-
date, amidft his ambitious intrigues to be chofen
./Edile, Tribune, Praetor, Conful, Di&ator, makes
a noife about his love for his country j. whereas
it is only himfelf that he loves. Every one is for
fecuring to himfelf the freedom of laying at his
own home, and that it mail be in no man's power
to turn him out ; every one is for being fure of his
life and fortune. Thus the whole fociety coin-
ciding in the like wifhes, private intereft becomes
that of the public ; and an individual in praying
only for himfelf, prays in effeft for the whole

community. Every ftate on the whole earth

indifputably has originally been a republic ; it is
the natural progrefs of human nature : a number
of families at firft entered into an alliance to fe-
cure one another againft bears and wolves ; and
that which had plenty of grain, bartered with an-
other which had nothing but wood.

On our difcovery of America, all the feveral
tribes throughout that vaft part of the world
were found divided into republics ; but there
were only two kingdoms. Of a thoufand nations,
only two were fubdued.

VOLTAIRE.

U* RE-

CORRUPTION.

RELIGIOUS AND POLITICAL
CORRUPTION.

THE name of religious corruption Is given to
all kinds of libertinifm, and principally to that of
men with women. This fpecies of corruption is
not Incompatible with the happinefs of a nation.
The people of different countries have believed,
and believe ftill, that this corruption is not crimi-
nal. It could not be criminal in any Mate, if wo-
men were in common, and their offspring decla-
red the children of the ftate: this crime would
then, in a political view, be attended with no
danger. In f aft, if we take a furvey of the earth,
we fhall fee different nations of people, among
whom what we call libertinifm is not only confi-
dered as no corruption of manners, but is found
authorifed by the laws, and even confecrated by
religion. AVhat innumerable evils, will it be faid,
are annexed to this kind of corruption ? May it
not be anfwered : That difiblutenefs is then only
politically dangerous in a ftate, when it contra-
venes the law of the country, or is blended with
fome other defect of government. It is in vain
to add, that the nations where fuch diflblutenefs
prevails, are the contempt of the world. What
nation ever excelled the Greeks? a people which
to this day is the admiration and honour of hu-
i man

CORRUPTION. 157

man nature. Before the Peleponefian war, an
sera fatal to their virtue, what nation, what coun-
try, produced fo many virtuous and great men ?
Yet the tafte of the Greeks for the moft in-
decent and unnatural luft is well known ; and
the moft virtuous of the Greeks, according to our
ideas of morality, would have been looked upon
in Europe as moft wicked and contemptible de-
bauchees. This kind of corruption of manner*
was in Greece carried to the utmoft excefs, at
the very time jthat country produced fuch great
men of every kind ?s made Perfia to tremble.
We may therefore obferve, that religious corrup-
tion does not feem incompatible with the great-
nefs and felicity of a ft'ate ; but political corrup-
tion is preparative to the fall of an empire, and
prefages its ruin. With this a people is infe&ed
when the bulk of the individuals feparate their
intereft from that of the public. This kind of
corruption, which fometimes is blended with the
preceding, lias led many moralifts to confound
them : if the queftion be only of the political in-
tereft of a ftate, the latter would perhaps be the
moft dangerous. A people, however pure its
manners might have been at firft, when this cor-
ruption becomes common, muft neceflarily be
unhappy at home, and little feared abroad: the
duration of fuch an empire is precarious ; it is
chance which either delays or haftens the fall of
VOL. I. f O it.

i^8 CORRUPTION.

it. The public happinefs or mifery depends
folely on the agreement or oppofition of the in-
tereft of individuals with flie general intereft ;
and the religious corruption of manners may, as
hiftory abundantly proves, be often joined with
magnanimity, elevation of foul, wifdom, abilities;
in fine, with all the qualities which form great
men. There are two different fpecies of bad
nclions •, fome vicious in every form of govern-
ment; others, which in a ftate are pernicious, and
confequently criminal only, as thofe actions are
contradictory to the laws of thofe countries.

HELVETIUS.

COURTESANS.

COUTESAXS were more honoured by the
Romans than by us; and more than either by the
Greeks. All the world have heard of the two
Afpafias, one of whom inflrutted even Socrates
in politics and eloquence; of Phryne, who at
her own expence built the walls of Thebes de-
ftroyed by Alexander, and whofe lewdnefs re-
paired in fome meafure the evil done by that con-
queror ; of Lais, who captivated fo many 'philo-
fophers, even Diogenes, whom fhe made happy,
and of whom Ariftippus faid, " I pofiefs Lais,
" but Lais does not poifefs me:" A good maxim
for every man of fcnic. But the moft celebrated

of

COURTESANS.

»f all was Leontium, who wrote books of philo-
fophy, and was beloved by Epicurus and his dif-
ciples. The famous Ninon 1'Enclos may be
looked upon as the modern Leontium: but how
few others have refembled her ! Nothing is more
uncommon than philofophical ladies of pleafure :
perhaps it is a profanation to join the former to
the latter term. We will not enlarge on this
article ; but it may be proper to obferve, that,
independent of our religion, viewing it only
in a moral light, a paflion for common -women
equally enervates the foul and the body, and is
attended with the worfl of confequences, with
regard to fortune, health, repofe, and happinefs.
On this occafion we may recal the faying of
Demofthenes, " I will not buy repentance at fa
" dear a price ;" and alfo that of die Emperor
Adrian, who on being afked why Venus was
painted naked, replied, Qitia nullos dimlttit.

But are not falfe and coquetilh wromen more
contemptible in one fenfe, and more dangerous to
the heart and underftanding, than courtefans ?
This queftion we {hall leave others to determine.

A celebrated philofopher (Buffon) now living,
examines in his natural hiftory, Why love makes
the happinefs of all other beings- and the mifery
of man ? He anfwers " That the only thing
" valuable in that paflion is the inftinctive attrac-
« tion(le phyfique), and that the moral fentiment
Q 2 « (le

160 COURTESANS.

" (le moral) which accompanies it is good for no-
" thing." This philofopher does not maintain
that the moral adds nothing to the phyfical plea-
-fure; for here experience would be againft him:
nor that the moral is only an illufion (which is
the cafe), but deftroys not the vivacity of the
pleafure. His meaning is, undoubtedly, that from
the moral fentiment proceed all the evils of love :
and here one cannot be of his opinion.

From this, let us only infer, that if a light
fuperior to our reafon did not promife us a hap-
pier ftate, we might well complain of Nature,
who with one hand prefenting us the moft allu-
ling of pleafures, would feem with the other to
pufh us from it, in furrounding it with fo many
rocks and fhelves, and placing it in a manner on
the brink of a precipice between grief and pri-
vation.

<gj.talibus in tenebris, vita1 quantiquc ptriclit-
Degitur hoc tfvi quodcunque eft!

D'ALEMBERT.

CREATION.

WE have no ideas of matter being created and
endued with the qualities which it poflefles.
Things having certainly very much the appearance
which they might have had, if we could fuppofe a
certain portion of fpace occupied by a confufed

mafs

G R E A T I 0 1?. l£<

mafs of fuch materials as form this world ; and-
if we could fuppofe Almighty God immediately
employed in keeping this mafs from univerfal dif-
Cpation till the laws of motion, attraction, and
gravitation took place : then, from the motion of
this fubftance, we can account for the prefent
form of the earth ; the conftituent parts of it ;
die beds or flrata and laminae of which it is
compofed; thefubiiding of thofe heavier matters j
the raifing water to the furface ;. of die air above
it ; and of that edier, . that pure electric fire,
which feems to be the lafl and fimpleft of our ele-
•ments. In the difpofition of diefe things, we find
moil eminently thofe qualities which we admire;
Wifdom, Power, Goodnefs. Theie qualities uni-
formly co-operate with each other; we dierefcrc
refer them to one great principle, which we call
God. Whether this great Almighty Being pro-
duced matter, and gave it principles and laws, it
would be impious aflurance in us eidier to aflert
or deny; becaufe it is a fubjecl on which we can
have no conceptions, no ideas : But.diatthe ma-
terials of this world have been brought into fucli
order, and have fuch effects- either widi or with-
out the induftry of man, as to fhow wifdoni,
power, and goodnefs in die great principle which
uniformly and conftantly actuates it; — this we
underiland. WILLIAMS..

O i CRE,-

l6^ CREDULITT.

CREDULITY AND AUTHORITY.

NATIONS in general are made more for feeling
than thinking. The greateft part of thorn never
had an idea of analyfmg the nature of the power
by which they are governed. They obey without
reflection, becaufe they have the habit of obeying.
The lover of power has no other fulcrum than
opinion. The origin and the objeft of the firft
national aflbciations 'being unknown to them, all
refiflance to government appears to them a crime.
It is chiefly in thofe ftates where die principles of
legiflation are confounded with thofe of religion
that this blindnefs is to be met with. The habit
of believing favours the habit of fuffering. Man
renounces not any objecl: with impunity. It
feems as if nature would revenge herfelf upon
him who dares thus to degrade her. The fervile
clifpofition which {he ftamps upon his foul in con-
fequence, extends itfelf throughout. It makes
a duty of resignation as of meannefs ; and, kifiing
chains of all kinds with refpeft, trembles to exa-
mine either its doftrines or its laws. In the fame
manner that a fmgle extravagance in religious
opinions is fufficient to make many more to be
adopted by minds once deceived, a firft ufurpa-
tion of government opens the door to all the reft.
He who believes the greater, believes the lefs ;

he

CRIMES. 163

he \vho can do the greater, can do the lefs. It
is by this double abufe of credulity and authority
that all the abfurdities in matters of religion and
policy have been introduced into the world, for
the harrafllng and the crufhing of the human
race. RAYNAL.

THE DEGREE OF CRIMES.

CRIMES are only to be meafured by the injury
done to fociety. — They err, therefore, who ima-
gine that a crime is greater or lefs according to
the intention of the perfon by whom it is com-
mitted' : for this will depend on the actual impref-
fion of objects on the fenfes, and on the previous
difpofition of the mind j both which will vary in
different perfons, and even in the fame perfon at
different times, according to the fucceffion of
ideas, paflions, and circumftances. Upon that
fyftem it would be neceflary to form, not only
a particular code for every individual, but a new
penal law for every crime. Men, often with the
bed intention, do the greateft injury to fociety j
and with the worft, do it the moft eflential fer-
vices — Others have .eftimated crimes rather by
the dignity of the perfon offended, than by their
confequences to fociety. If this were the true
ftandard, the fmalleft irreverence to the Divine
Being ought to be punifhed with infinitely more

feverity

164 C p. i M E a.

feverity than the afiaffination of a monarch. — -
Others have imagined, that the gveatnefs of the
fin fhould aggravate the crime. But the fallacy
of this opinion will appear on the flighteft con-
Cderation of the relations between man and manr
and between God and man. The relations be<-
tween man and man are relations of equality.
Neceffity alone hath produced, from the oppo-
fition of private paflions and intereils, the idea
of public utility ; which is die foundation of hu-
man juftice. The degree of fin depends on the
malignity of the heart, which is impenetrable to
finite beings. How then can the degree of fin
ferve as a ftandard to determine the dejree of
crimes ? If that were admitted, men. may punifh
when God pardons, and pardon when God con-
demns j and thus act in oppofition to the Supreme
Being. BECCARIA..

EVIDENCE OF CRIMES.

WHEN the proofs of a crime are. dependent
on each other; that is, when. the. evidence of each
witnefs, taken feparately, proves nothing, or when
all proofs are dependent upon one, the number
of proofs neither increafe nor diininifh the pro-
bability of the fa£t : for the force of the whole
is no greater than the force of that on which
they depend j and if this fails, they all fall to the

ground.

CRIMES. 165

ground. When the proofs are independent on
each other, the probability of the fact increafes in
proportion to the number of proofs ; for the falfe-
hood of one does not diminifh the veracity of ano-
ther.— Moral certainty, with refpect to crimes, is
here called probability ; though it is a certainty
which every man in his fenfes aflents to from an
habit produced by the neceflity of acting, and
which is anterior to all fpeculation. That cer-
tainty, which is neceflary to decide that the a^c-
cufed is guilty, is the very fame which determines
every man in the mod important tranfactions of
his life. — The proofs of a crime may be divided
into two clafles, perfect and imperfect. I call
thofe perfect which exclude the poflibility of in-
nocence ; imperfect, thofe which do not exclude
this poflibility. Of the firft, one only is fumcient
for condemnation j of the fecond, as many are re-
quired as form a perfect proof; that is to fay,
that though each of thefe, feparately taken, does
not exclude the poflibility of innocence, it is ne-
verthelefs excluded by their union. It mould
be alfo obferved, that the imperfect proofs of
which the accufed, if innocent, might clear him-
felf, and does not, become perfect.

BECCARIA.

THS

166 CRIMES,

THE PROPORTION BETWEEN CRIMES
AND PUNISHMENTS.

IT is not only the common intereft of mankind
that crimes mould not be committed, but that
crimes of every kind fhould be lefs frequent in
proportion to the evil they produce to fociety.
Therefore the mf ans made ufe of by the legiila-
ture to prevent crimes, Ihould be more powerful
in proportion as they are deftructive of the public
fafety and happinefs; and as the inducements to
commit them are ftronger, therefore ttare ought
to be a fixed proportion between crimes and
punimments. — The diforders in fociety increafc
in proportion to the number of people, and the
oppofition of private interefls. If we confult
hiftory, we fliall find them mcreafmg in every
(late with the extent of dominion. In political
arithmetic, it is neceflary to fubftitute a calcula-
tion of probabilities to mathematical ^exactnefs.
That force which continually impels us to our
own private intereft like gravity, acts inceffantly,
unlefs it meets with an obftacle to oppofe it.
The effects of this force are the confufed feries of
human actions. Punimments, which I would
call political obftacles, prevent the fatal effects of
private intereft, without deftroying the impelling
caufe, which is that fenfibility inseparable from

man,

CRIMES. 167

man. The legiflator acts in this cafe like a ficil-
ful architect, who endeavours to counteract the
force of gravity by combining the circumftances
which may contribute to the ftrength of his
edifice. — The neceflity of uniting in fociety being
granted, together with the conventions which the
oppofite interefts of individuals muft neceflarily
require, a fcale of crimes may be formed ; of
which the firft degree mould confift of thofe
which immediately tend to the diflblution of fo-
ciety ; and the laft, of the fmalleft poflible in-
juftice done to a private member of that fociety.
If an equal punifhment be ordained for two crimes
that injure fociety in different degrees, there is
nothing to deter men from committing the greater
as often as it is attended with greater advantages.

BECCARIA.

THE INFLUENCE OF THE CROWN IN THE
BRITISH PARLIAMENT.

THE influence of the crown has perhaps not
been induftriouily augmented in a view to un-
dermine the fabric of civil liberty : it appears
rather to have infenGbly arifeii to its prefent pitch,
from the increafe of empire and commerce, from
the augmentation of our armies, navies, debts,
and revenues. But refer its origin to what caufe
you pleafe, its exiilen.ee is certain, and its ten-
dency

1 63 C R o \v x,

dency obvious. In the hands of a wife and good
prince, this influence may not be prejudicial ; but
the freedom of a people fhould not depend on
the accidental good difpofition of the prince. It
is our duty by focial compadt to be loyal ; it is
our right by nature to be free. When the fer-
vility of the Roman Senate had given up to Au*
guftus the liberties of the flate, the people en-
joyed under him a mild and moderate govern-
ment; but did they do the fame under Tiberius,
Caligula, Nero, Domitian, and many other weak
and wicked princes who fucceeded him ? Rome was
once free. France heretofore had the three eftates
which were the guardians of its liberty. Spain
had many rights and privileges, of which no-
thing now but the fhadow remains. Denmark
and Sweden had, once conftitutions fomething
like that of England ; but all thefe countries have

been enflaved by their own corruption.

* *

THE ORIGIN OF BARBAROUS AND RIDICU-
LOUS CUSTOMS IN VARIOUS AGES AND
NATIONS.

SOME maintain, that we have an idea of virtue
abfolutely independent of different ages and go-
vernment; and that virtue is always one and the
fame. Others maintain, on the contrary, that
every nation forms a different idea of virtue, and
a con

C U S T 6 M S. 69!

confequently that the idea of virtue is merely
arbitrary. Thefe two philofophical fe£ts are de-
ceived ; but they would both have efcaped error,
had they with an attentive eye confidered the
hiftory of the world. They would then have
perceived, that time muft neceflarily produce in
the phyfical and moral world revolutions that
change tKe face of empires ; that in the great
cataftrophes of kingdoms the people always ex-
perience great changes ; that die fame actions
may fucceffivelv become ufeful and prejudicial,
and confequently by turns aflume the name of
virtuous and vicious : for by the word virtue can
only be underflood a defire of the general hap-
pinefs, and the object of virtue is the public well-
fare, and the actions it enjoins are the means it
makes ufe of to accomplifh that end : and there-
fore the idea of virtue is not arbitrary ; but in dif-
ferent ages and countries all men, at leaft thofe
who live in fociety, ought to form the fame idea
of it': and, in fhort, if the people reprefent it
under diffefent forms, it is becaufe they take for
virtue the various means they employ to accom-

plifli the end. However ftupid we fappofe

mankind, it is certain, that, enlightened by their
own intereft, they have not without motives
adopted the ridiculous cuftoms wre find among
fome of them : the fantafticalnefs of thefe cuf-
toms proceeds then from the diverfity of the in-
VOL. I. P f terefts

170 CUSTOMS.

terefts of different nations ; and in fa£t, if they
have always, though confufedly, underftood by
the word virtue the defire of the public happi-
nefs; if they have confequently given the name
of virtuous only to a&ions of public utility -, and
if the idea of utility has always been fecretly con-
nected with the idea of virtue; we may afiert,
that the moil ridiculous, and even the moft bar-
barous euftoms, have always had for their founda-
tion either a real or apparent utility. — Theft was
permitted at Sparta : they only punifhed the awk-
•vvardnefs of the thief. By the laws of Lycurgus,
and the contempt for gold and filver in that
country, few -things could be ftolen; and thefe
thefts inured the Lacedemonians to a habit of
courage and vigilance, who could only oppofe
thefe virtues to the. ambition of the Perfians and
the treachery of the Ilotes. It is therefore cer-
tain, that theft, which is always prejudicial to
a rich people, was of ufe to Sparta.

At the end of winter, when hunger calls the fa-
vage to the chafe, there are fome favage nations who
maflacre all the old and infirm men which are
unable to fuftain the fatigues of hunting: were
they left in their cabins or in the forefts, they
would f;ill a prey to hunger or the wild beads ;
they, therefore, choofe rather to preferve them from
tuofe dreadful misfortunes by a fpeedy and a ne-
c efl-iry parricide. And this execrable cuftom origi-
nates

CUSTOMS. 171

nates from the fame principle of humanity that
makes us look upon it with horror. But with-
out having recourfe to favage nations, let us di-
rect our views to China : If it be afked why an
abfolute authority is there given to fathers over
the lives of their children ? we find that the
lands of that empire, how extenfive foever they
are, cannot fometimes furniih fubfiilence for the
numerous inhabitants. Now, as the too great
difproportion between the multiplicity of men
and the fertility of the lands would neceflarily
occafion wars fatal to that empire, we fee that in
time of famine,, and to prevent an infinite num-
ber of murders and unneceflary misfortunes, the
Chinefe nation, humane in its intentions, but bar-
barous in the choice of the means, has through
a fentiment of humanity, though a miftaken one,
confidered the permiflion to murder their infants
as neeeffary to the repofe of the empire. We
facrifice, fay they, for this purpofe fome un-
fortunate victims, from whom infancy and igno-
rance conceal the horrors of death, in which per-
haps confift its moft formidable terrors It

was equally a motive of public utility, and the
defire of protecting modeft beauty, that formerly
engaged the Swifs to publiili an edicl:, by which
it was not only permitted, but even ordained,
that each prieft ftiould provide himfelf a con-
cubine.

P Z Thefe

i ;2 CUSTOMS.

Thefe examples might be multiplied without
end; and all would concur to prove, that cuf-
tfcms, even the mod foolim and barbarous, have
alv/ays their fource in the real or apparent uti-
lity of the public. But it is faid, that thefe cuf-
toms are not on this account the lefs odious or ri-
diculous. It is true, but it is only, becaufe we are
ignorant of the motives of their eftablimment j
and becaufe thefe cuftoms, confecrated by anti-
quity and fuperftition, fubfift, by the negligence
or weaknefs of governments, long after the caufes
of their eftablifhment are removed. All the
cuftoms tli at procure only tranfient advantages, are
like fcaffblds that ihculd be pulled down when
the palaces are railed. The intereft of ftates,
".uman things, is fxibject to a thoufand
. . The fame Icr.vs r.nd the fame cuf-
toms become fucceflively ufeful and prejudicial
to the fame people ; from whence we may con-
clude, that thofe laws ought by turns to be
adopted and rejected, and that the fame actions
ought fucceflively to be named virtuous and vi-
cious : a propcfition that cannot be denied, with-
out confefling that there are actions which at
one and the fame time are virtuous and prejudi-
cial to the ftate, and confequently without fapping
the foundations of all government and all fo->
ciety. HELVETIUS.

I)* R K N E S S.

LOCKE'S OPINION CONCERNING DARKNESS

CONSIDERED.

TT is Mr Locke's opinion, that darknefs is not
naturally an idea of terror ; and that though
an exceffive light is painful to the fenfe, that
the greateft excefs of darknefs is noways trouble-
fome. He obferves, indeed, in another place,
that a nurfe or an old woman, having once afib-
ciated the idea of ghofts and goblins with that of
darknefs, night ever after becomes painful and
horrible to the imagination. The authority of
this great man is doubtlefs as great as that of
any man can be. But it feems that an afTocia-
tion of a more general nature, an aflbciatioa
which takes in all mankind, may make darknefs
terrible : for in utter darknefs it is impoflible to
know in what degree of fafety we (land ; we are
ignorant of the objects which furround us ; we
may every moment ftrike againft fome dangerous
P3 6b-

DARKNESS.

obftru£Hon ; we may fall down a precipice the
firft ftep we take ; and if an enemy approach, we
know not in what quarter to defend ourfelves. In
fuch a cafe ftrength is no fure protection ; wif-
dom can only a& by guefs ; the boldeft are dag-
gered j and he who would pray for nothing elfe
towards his defence, is forced to pray for light.

Ziv oalt, a\\a evvyxi a.* x.io; viaf A<aiuv

As to the aflbciation of ghofts and goblins,
furely it is more natural to think that darknefs
being originally an idea of terror, was chofen as
a fit fcene- for fuch terrible rerpefentations, than
that fuch reprefentations have made darknefs ter-
rible. The mind of man very eafily flides into
an error of the former fort; but it is very hard
to imagine that the effect of an idea, fo univer-
fally terrible in all times and in all countries, as
darknefs, could poffibly have been owing to a fet
of idle ftories, or to any caufe of a nature fo
trivial and of an operation fo precarious.

Perhaps it may appear on inquiry, that black-
nefs and darknefs are in fome degree painful
by their natural operation, independent of any
aflbciations whatfoever. It muft be obferved,
that the ideas of darknefs and blacknefs are much
the fame-, and they differ only in this, that black-
nefs is a more confined idea. Dr Chefelden

has

DARKNESS. 17$

has given us a very curious (lory of a boy who
had been born blind, and continued fo until he
was thirteen or fourteen years old. He was then
couched for a cataract ; by which operation he
received his fight. Among many remarkable
particulars that attended his firfl perceptions
and judgments on vifual objects, Chefelden tells
us, that the firft time the boy faw a black object
it gave him great uneafinefs -, and that fome time
after, upon accidentally feeing a negro woma#,
he was ftruck with great horror at the fight.
The horror, in this cafe, can fcarcely be fuppo-
fed to arife from any aflbciation. The boy ap-
pears by the account to have been particularly ob-
ferving and fenfible for one of his age ; and there-
fore it is probable, if the great uneafinefs he felt at
the firft fight of black had arifen from its connec-
tion with any other difagreeable ideas, he would
have obferved and mentioned it : For an idea, dif-
agreeable only by aflbciation, has the caufe of its
ill effect on the paffions, evident enough at the
firft impreffion. In ordinary cafes it is indeed
frequently loft ; but this is becaufe the original
aflbciation was made very early, and the confe-
quent impreffion repeated often. In this inftance
there was no time for fuch an habit ; and there
is no reafon to think that the ill effects of black
on his imagination were more owing to its con-
nection with any difagreeable ideas, than that the

good

>7^ DARKNESS

good effects of more cheerful colours were deri-
ved from their connection with pleafing ones.
They had both probably their effects from their
.natural operation.

It may be worth while to examine how dark-
nefs can operate in fuch a manner as to caufe
pain. It is obfervable, that dill as we recede from
the light, nature has fo contrived it, that the pupil
is enlarged by the retiring of the iris in proportion
to our recefs. Now, inftead of declining from it
but a little, fuppofe that we withdraw entirely
from the light : it is reafonable to think that the
contraction of the radial fibres of the iris is pro-
portionably greater ; and that this part by great
.darknefs may come to be fo contracted, as to
ftrain the nerves that compofe it beyond their na-
tural tone, and by this means to produce a pain-
ful fenfation. Such a tenfion, it feems, there cer-r
tainly is whilft we are involved in darknefs ; for
in fuch a flate, while the eye remains open, there
is a continual nifus to receive light : This is ma-
nifeft from the flames and luminous appearances
which often feem in thefe circumftances to play
before it, and which can be nothing but the effect
of fpafms produced by its own efforts in purfuit
of its object. Several other flrong impulfes will
produce the idea of light in the eye befides the
fubftance of light itfelf, as we experience on
many occaHons. Though the circular ring of the

iris

DARKNESS. 177

iris be in fome fenfe a fphincter, which may pof-
fibly be dilated by a fimple relaxation; yet in one
rcfpect it differs from moft of the fphincters of
the body, that k is furnifhed with antagonift
mufcles, which are the radial fibres of the iris.
No fooner does the circular mufcle begin to re-
lax, than thefe fibres, wanting their counterpoife,
are forcibly drawn back, and open the pupil to a
confiderable widenefs. But though we were not
apprifed of this, every one, it is to be prefumed,
will find, if he opens his eyes and makes an ef-
fort to fee in a dark place, that a very percei-
vable pain enfues. It hath alfo been a complaint
of fome ladies, that after having worked a long
time upon a ground of black, their eyes were fo
pained and weakened they could hardly fee. It
may perhaps be objected to this theory of the
mechanical effect of darknefs, that the ill effects
of darknefs or blacknefs feem rather mental than
corporeal : and it is true that they do fo; and fa
do all thofe that depend on the affections of the
finer parts of our fyftcm.

The ill effects of bad weather appear no other-
wife than in a melancholy and dejection of
of fpirits ; though without doubt, in this cafe, the
bodily organs fuffer firft, and the mind through
thefe organs.

BURKE.

DEITY

I'7$ £ I T T.

t

DEITY.

A PURPOSE, an intention, a defign, ftrlkes
every where the mofl carelefs thinker j and no
man can be fo hardened in abfurd fyftems as at

all times to reject it. That natura does nothing

in vain, is a maxim eftablifhed in aH the ichools,
merely from" the contemplation of the books of
nature, without any religious purpofe : and from
a firm conviction of its truth, an anatomifl, who
had obferved a new organ or canal, would never
be fatisfied till he had difcovered its ufe and in-
tention.— One great foundation of theCopernican
fyftem is the maxim, that nature afts by the jtm-
plefl methods, and chozfes the mrf proper means to
tny end : and aftronomers, without thinking of
it, often lay this ftrong foundation of piety and
religion. — The fame thing is obfervable in other
parts of philofophy : And thus all the fciences
almoft lead us infenfibly to acknowledge a firft
intelligent Author ; and their authority is often
fo much the greater, as they do not directly pro-
fefs that intention. — It is with pleafure I hear
Galen reafon concerning the ftruclure of the hu-
man body.-— The anatomy of a man, fays he, dif-
covers above 600 different mufcles ; and whoever
duly confiders thefe will find, that in each of them
nature mull have adjufted at leaft ten different

cu>

B E I T Y. 179

circumftances in order to attain the end which
fhe propofed ; proper figure, juft magnitude,
right difpofition of the feveral ends, upper and
lower pofition of the whole, the due insertion of
the feveral nerves, veins, and arteries ; fo that in
the mufcles alone, above 6000 feveral views and
intentions muft have been formed and executed.
— The bones he calculates to be 284. — The
diftincl purpofes aimed at in the ftructure of each
above forty. — What a prodigious difplay of arti-
fice even in thefe fimple and homogeneous parts'
But if we .confider the fkin, ligaments, veflels,
glandules, humours, the feveral limbs and mem-
bers of the body, how muft our aftonifliment rife
upon us, in proportion to the number and intricacy
of the parts fo artificially adjufted ? The further
we advance in thefe refearches, we difcover new
fcenes of art and wifdom ; but defcry at a diftance
further fcenes beyond our reach, in the fine in-
ternal ftru&ure of the parts, in the ceconomy of
the brain, in the fabric of the feminal veflels.—
All thefe artifices are repeated in every different
fpecies of animal with wonderful variety and
with exact propriety, fuited to the different in-
tentions of nature in framing each fpecies. —
And if the infidelity of Galen, even when thefe
natural fciences were ftill imperfect, could not
withftand fuch ftriking appearances ; to what
pitch of pertinacious obftinacy muft a philofopher

DEITY.

in this age have attained, who can now doubt

of a Supreme Intelligence? Could I meet

with a man of this kind, I would afk him,
Suppofing there were a God who did not dif-
cover himfelf immediately to the fenfes; were
it poffible for him to give ftrohger proofs of
his exigence, than what appear on the whole
face of nature ? What indeed could fuch a di-
vine being do, except copy the prefent cecono-
my of things ; render many of his artifices fo
plain, that no ftupidity could miftake them ; af-
ford glimpfes of ftill greater artifices, which de-
monftrate this prodigious fuperiority above our
narrow apprehenfions ; and conceal altogether a
great many from fuch imperfect creatures ? Now,
according to all rules of juft reafoning, every fact
muft pafs for undifputed, when it is fupported
by all the arguments which its nature admits of j
even though thefe arguments be not very forcible
or numerous : how much more in the prefent
cafe, where no human imagination can com-
pute their number, and no underftanding efti-
mate their cogency ? — The comparifon of the
univerfe to a machine is fo obvious and natural,
and is juftified by fo many inftances of order and
defign in nature, that it muft immediately ftrike
all unprejudiced apprehenfions, and procure uni-
Verfal approbation. — That the works of nature
bear a great analogy to the productions of art,
Z is

DEITY. t8r

is evident ; and according to all the rules of good
reafoning we ought to infer, if we argue at all
concerning them, that their caufes have a pro-
portional analogy. — But as there are alfo confi-
derable differences, we have reafon to fuppofe a
proportional difference in the caufes ; and in par-
ticular ought to attribute a much higher degree
of power and energy to the Supreme Caufe than
any we have ever obfefved in mankind. — Here
then the exiftence of a Deity is plainly afcertain-
ed by reafon : and if we make it a queftion,
Whether on account of thefe analogies we can
properly call him a Mind or Intelligence, not-
withftanding the vaft difference which may rea-
fonably be fuppofed between him and human
minds ; what is this but a mere verbal contro-
verfy ? .No man can deny the analogies between
the effects : to reftrain ourfelves from inquiring
concerning the caufes is fcarcely poflible. From
this inquiry the legitimate conclusion is, that the
caufes have alfo an analogy : and if we are not
contented with calling the firft and fupreme
caufe a God or Deity, but defire to vary the ex-
preiTion, what can we call him but Mind br
Thought, to which he is juftly fuppofed to bear
a considerable refemblance ? So that this contro-
verfy is a difpute of words. HUME.

VOL. I. Q f ON

DEITY.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

• TO difcover a Deity, mankind muft open the
facred volume of God's works ; confider the ob-
vious fitnefs of every caufe to produce its effe& ;
the proof which this affords of intention and de-
fign ; the harmony and order which prevails
wherever we have clear and perfect views; and
the invariable certainty with which virtue and
happinefs arife to individuals and nations from
the laws of this order. Let them go one ftep,
and one ftep only, into theregioa of analogy and
imagination ; let them fuppofe thefe great qua-
lities— thefe intentions, this defign, this good-
nefs, not to be fcattered through the univerfe,
but to belong to one being who actuates it ; and
they will know all that can poflibly be known of
God. Beware of trufting your imagination one
moment longer. She has foared her utmoft
height ; and every effort {lie makes will be to-
wards the earth, and will generate error and ab-
furdity. You are to glance only by the utmoft
exertion of your abilities at that Being who is
incomprehenfible ; and you are to be fatisfied
with few and general ideas on fo great a fub-
je£t,. — When a man has obtained general proofs,
that the univerfe is replete with the effects of
•vvifdom, dire&ed to the happinefs of its inhabi-
tants,

DEITY. 183

tants, he has all the knowledge he can ever have
of God. All his further inquiries, when judi-
cioufly made, will only furnifh additional evidence
to the fame general truth. But whether he be
Nature itfelf, or a principle diftinft from and
animating it; whether he confift of matter of
fpirit, whether hs be infinite fpace or a mathe-
matical point ; whether he be undefinable and
have no form, or have any determinate figure,
and refide in a particular place ? thefe are ridi-
culous and mifchievous queftions; becaufe we
have no poflibility of being informed on the fub-
je£b of them ; becaufe they miflead us from truth,
the principle of virtue, to vifions and errors, the
principles of vice ; they create differences, ge-
nerate divifions, and deftroy the general harmony
and benevolence which were defigned to reign
through the whole univerfe. — AU nature is an
altar to the unknown God,

WILLIAMS.

THE IDEA AND BELIEF OF A GOD, NOT
INNATE.

THE belief of an invifible, intelligent Power has
been very generally diffufed over the human race
in all places and in all ages ; but it has neither,
perhaps, been fo univerfal as to admit of no
exceptions, nor has it been in any degree uni-
Qj* from

184 DEITY.

form in the ideas which it has fuggefted. Some-
nations have been difcovered, who entertain no
fentiments of religion, if. travellers and hifto-
rians may be credited ; and no two nations, and
fcarce any two men, have ever agreed precifely
in the fame fentiments. It would appear, then,
that this preconception fprings not from an ori-
ginal inftinft or primary impreffion of Nature ;
fince every inftincl: of that kind muft be abfolutely
univerfal in all nations and ages, and muft have
always a precife determinate objecl: which it in-
flexibly purfues. The firft religious principles,
therefore., are fecondary ; fuch as may eaiily be
perverted by various accidents and caufes, and
•whofe operation, too, in fome cafes, may by an
extraordinary concurrence of circunftances, be
altogether prevented. HUME.

THE WORSHIP OF THE DEITY.

TO know God, fays Seneca, is to worfhip him.
All other worfhip is indeed abfurd, fuperfti-
tious, and even impious. — It degrades him ta the
low condition of mankind, who are delighted
with intreaty, felicitation, prefents, and flattery.
^-Yet is this impiety the fmalleft of which fu-
perftition is guilty. — Commonly it deprefies the
Deity far below the condition of mankind ; and
reprefents him as a capricious daemon, who oxer-

cifes

D E 1 T T.

Cffes his power without reafon and without hu-
manity ! — And were the Divine Being difpofed
to be offended at the vices and follies of filly
mortals, who are his own workmanftiip, ill would
it furely fare with the votaries of moft popular
fuperftitions. — Nor would any of the human race
merit his favour, but a very few, the philofophi-
cal Theifts-, who entertain fukable notions of his
divine perfections : as the only perfons intitled to
his compaffion and indulgence would be the
philofophical Sceptics, a feel: almoft equally rare ;
who from a natural diffidence of their own capa-
city, fufpend, or endeavour to fufpend, all judg-
ment with regard to fuch fubiime and fuch ex-
traordinary fubje&s.. HUME.

DELICACY OF TASTE AND OF PASSION.

SOME people are fubject to a certain delicacy
of paflion, and others enjoy a delicacy of taile.
The firft quality makes them extremely fenfible
to all the accidentj of life, and gives them a
lively joy upon, every profperous event,, as well as
a piercing grief when they meet with misfor-
tunes and adverfity. Favours and good offices
eafily engage their fjriendfhipj while the fmaHeit
injury provokes' their refentment. Any honour,
or mark of diftinclion elevates them above mea-.

DELICACT.

jfure; but they are fenfibly touched with con-
tempt.

Delicacy of tafte much refembles this delicacy
of paflion, and produces the fame fenfibility to
beauty and deformity of every kind as that does
to profperity and adverfity, obligations and in-
juries. When you prefent a poem or a picture
to a man poflefled of this talent, the delicacy of
his feeling makes him be touched very fenfibly
with every part of it ; nor are the mafterly ftrokes
perceived with more exquifite relilh and fatisfae-
tion, than the negligences or abfurdities with dif-
guft and uneafinefs. A polite and judicious con-
verfation affords him the higheft entertainment;
rudenefs or impertinence is a great punifliment to
him. — Delicacy of paffion gives us more lively en-
joyments as well as more pungent forrows than are
felt by men of cool and fedate tempers : but when
every thing is balanced, there is no one who
would not, perhaps, rather be of the latter cha-
racter, were he entirely mafter of his own dif-
pofition. Good or ill fortune is very little at our
difpofal: and when a perfon, that has this fen-
fibility of temper, meets with any misfortune,
his forrow or refentment takes entire pofleffion
of him, and deprives him of all relifh in the com-
mpn occurrences of life; the right enjoyment of
which forms the chief part of our happinefs.
Not to mention that men of fuch lively paflions

are

DELICACY. 187

are apt to be tranfported beyond all bounds of
prudence and difcretion, and to take falfe fteps
in the conduct of life, which are often irre-
trievable.— Delicacy of tafte has alfo the fame
effect as delicacy of paffion : it enlarges the fphere
both of our happinefs and mifery, and makes us
fenfible to pains as well as pleafures which efcape
the reft of mankind. — A delicacy of tafte is fa-
vourable to love and friendfhip, by confining our
choice to few people, and making us indifferent to
the company and converfation of the greateft part
of mankind. Mere men of the world, whatever
ftrong fenfe they may be endowed with, are feldom
very nice in diftinguifhing characters, or marking
thofe infenfible differences and gradations which
make one man preferable to another. Any one
that has competent fenfe is fufficient for their
entertainment. But one that has well digefted
his knowledge both of books and men, has little
enjoyment but in the company of a few feledt
companions. He feels too fenfibly, how much
all the reft of mankind fall fhort of the notion*
which he has entertained.

How far delicacy of tafte and that of paffion
are connected together in the original frame of
the mind, it is hard to determine. However,
there -appears a very confiderable connection be-
tween them ; but notwithftanding this connection,
delicacy of tafte is as much to be defired and culti-
vated,

i88 DE L i c A c Y.

vated, as delicacy of paflion is to be lamented, and
to be remedied if poflible. The good or ill ac-
cidents of life are very little at our difpofal ; but
we are pretty much mafters what books we (hall
read, what diverfions we (hall partake of, and
what company we (hall keep. HUME.

DELIRIUMS.

DELIRIUMS fometimes attend difeafes, efpe-
cially acute ones. In thefe a difagreeable ftate
is introduced into the nervous fyftem by the bo-
dily diforder, which checks the rife of pleafant
aflbciations, and gives force and quicknefs to dif-
guftful ones ; and which confequently would of
itfelf alone, if fafficient in degree, vitiate and di-
ftort all the reafonings of the fick perfon. But
befides this, it feems that in deliriums attending
diftempers, a vivid train of viiible images forces
itfelf upon the patient's eye; and that either from
a diforder of the nerves and blood-veiTeis of the
eye itfelf, or from one in the brain or one in the
alimentary duel ; or, which is moft probable, from
a concurrence of all thefe. It feems alfo, that
the wild difcourfe of delirious perfons is accom-
modated to this train in fome imperfect manner;
ami that it becomes fo wild, partly from the in-
coherence of the parts of this train, partly from
its not exprefiing even this incoherent train ade-
quately,

DELI*IUMS. 189

quately, but deviating into fuch phrafes as the vi-
brations excited by the diftemper in parts of the
brain correfponding to the auditory nerves, or in
parts ftill more internal, and confequently the
feats of ideas purely intellectual, produce by their
aflbciated influence over the organs of fpeech.

That delirious perfons have fuch trains forced
upon the eye from internal caufes, appears pro-
bable from hence ; that when they firft begin to
be delirious and talk wildly, it is generally at thofe
times only when they are in the dark, fo as to have
all vifible objects excluded : for upon bringing a
candle to them, and prefenting common ob-
jects, they recover themfelves, and talk rationally
till the candle be removed again. From hence
we may conclude, that the real objects over-
power the vifible train from internal caufes,
while the delirium is in its infancy ; and that the
patient relapfes as foon as he is fhut up in the
dark, becaufe the vifible train from internal
caufes overpowers that which would rife up, was
the perfon's nervous fyftem in a natural ftate, ac-
cording to the ufual courfe of aflbciation and the
recurrent recollection of the place and circum-
flances in which he is fituated. By degrees the
vifible train from internal caufes, grows fo vivid
by the increafe of the diftemper, as even to over-
power the impreflions from real objects, at lead
frequently and in a great degree, and fo as to in-
termix

190 DELIRIUMS.

termix itfelf with them, and to make an iucon-
fiftency in the words and actions : and thus the
patient becomes quite delirious.

Perfons inclining to be delirious in diftempers,
are moft apt to be fo going to fleep, and in wa-
king from ileep ; in which circumftances the vi-
fible trains are more vivid than when we are
quite awake.

It cafts alfo fome light on this fubjeft, that tea
and coffee will fometimes occafion fuch trains ;
and that they arife in our firft attempts to fleep
after thofe liquors.

As death approaches, the deliriums attending
difeafes abound with far more incoherencies and
inconfiftencies than any other fpecies of aliena-
tions of the mind, the natural refult of the en-
tire diforder of the nervous fyftem. However,
there are fome cafes of death where the nervous
fyftem continues free from difordejr to the laft,
as far as the by-ftanders can judge.

HARTLEY.

DELUGE,

THAT ever the whole globe was at one time
totally overflowed with water, is phyfically im-
poflible. The fea may have covered all parts fuc-
ceffively one after the other j and this could be
only in a gradation fo very flow, as to take up a

pro-

DELUGE. igi

prodigious number of ages. The fea, in the fpace
of five hundred years, has withdrawn from Aigues-
mortes, from Frejus, and from Ravenna, once
large ports, leaving about two leagues of land
quite dry. This progreflion mows, that to make
the circuit of the globe, it would require two
millions two hundred thoufands years. A very
remarkable circumftance is, that this period comes
very near to that which the earth's axis would
take up in raifing itfelf again and coinciding with
the equator. A motion fo far from improbable,
that for thefe fifty years paft fome apprehenfion
has been entertained of it ; but it cannot be
accomplifhed under two millions three hundred

thoufand years. The ftrata or beds of (hells*

every where found, fixty, eighty, and even a hun-
dred leagues from die fea, prove beyond all dif-
pute, that it has infenfibly depofited thofe mari-
time products on ground which was once its mores :
but that the water at one and the fame time
covered the whole earth, is a phyfical abfurdity,
which the laws of gravitation, as well as thofe of
.fluids, and the deficiency of the quantity of water,
demonftrates to be impoflible. The univerfal
deluge was a miracle.

VOLTAIRE.

DES-

192 DESTINY.

DESTINY.

THE world fubfifts either by its own nature,
by its phyfical laws, or a Supreme Being has
formed it by his primitive laws. In either cafe
thefe laws are immutable ; in either cafe every
thing is neceflary. Heavy bodies gravitate to-
wards the centre of the earth, and cannot tend
to remain in the air ; pear-trees can never bear
pine-apples ; the inftinct of a fpaniel can never
be the inftinft of an oftrichj every thing is arran-
ged, fet in motion, and limited. — Man can have
but a certain number of teeth, hair, and ideas ;
and a time comes when he neceflarily lofes
them. It is a contradiction that what was yefter-
day has not been, and what is to-day mould not
be : No lefs a contradiction is it that a thing
which is to be fhould not come to pafs. — If thou
could give a turn to the deftiny of a fly, I fee no
reafon why thou mighteft not as well determine
the deftiny of all other flies, of all other animals,
of all men, and of all nature ; fo that at laft
thou wouldft be more powerful than God him-
felf. — It is common for weak people to fay, Such
a phyfician has cured a perfon of a dangerous
illnefs ; he has added to his life ten years. Others
as weak, but in their own opinion very wife,
fay, The prudent man owes his fortune to him-
i felf.

DESTINY. 193

felf. But the prudent man oftentimes is crufhed
by his deftiny, inftead of making it : it is their
deftiny that renders men prudent. — The phy-
fician has faved a perfon ; allowed : But herein
he certainly did not reverfe the order of nature ;
he conformed to it. It is evident that the perfon
could not hinder his being born in fuch a town,
and having a certain illnefs at fuch a time •, that
the phyfician could be no where but in the town
where he was ; that the perfon was to fend for
him ; and that he was to prefcribe thofe medicines
which effe&ed the cure. — A peafant imagines
that the hail which is fallen in his ground is
purely matter of chance : but the philofopher
knows that there is no fuch thing as chance ; and
that by the conftitution of the world, it muft ne-
ceflarily have hailed that day in that very place.

Some, alarmed at this truth, fay there are necef-
fary events, and others which are not fo : but it
would be odd indeed that one part of this world
were fixed and not the other ; that fome things
which happen were to happen, and that others
which happen were not neceffarily to happen.
On a clofe examination, the doctrine which
oppofes that of deftiny muft appear loaded with
abfufdities, and contrary to the idea of an eter-
nal Providence. But many are deftined to reafon
wrongly; others not to reafon at all; and others to
perfecute thofe who do reafon. VOLTAIRE.

VOL. I. R f D I S-

J94 DISCRETION.

DISCRETION.

THE quality the moft neceflary for the exe-
cution of any ufeful enterprize is difcretion ,- by
which we carry on a fafe intercourfe with others ;
give due -attention to our own and to their charac-
ter ; weigh each circumftance of the bufmefs
which we undertake ; and employ the fureft and
fafeft means for the attainment of any end or
purpofe. To a Cromwe//, perhaps, or a De Retz>
difcretion may appear an alderman-like virtue as
Dr Swift calls it ; and being incompatible with
thofe vaft designs to which their courage and
ambition prompted them, it might really in them
be a fault or imperfection. But in the conduct
of ordinary life, no virtue is more requifite, 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 enormons ftrength and ftature.

The beft character, indeed, were it not rather
too perfect 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 afcribes to

JMarefcha!

DISCRETION 195

Marefchal Turenne, who difplayed, every cam-
paign as he grew older, more temerity in his
military enterprifes ; and being now, from long
experience, perfectly acquainted with every inci-
dent in war, he advanced with greater firmnefs
and fecurity in a road fo well known to him.
Fabius, fays Machiavel, was cautious; Scrpio
enterprifing : and both fucceeded ; becaufe the fi-
tuation of 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.

HUME-

DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER.

IN matter we have no clear ideas of the fmtill-
nefs of parts much beyond the fmalleft that occurs
to any of our fenfes : and therefore when we talk
of the divifibility of matter in infinitum^. though
we have clear ideas of 'diviilon and divifibility,
and have alfo clear ideas of parts made out of a
whole by divifion ; yet we have but very obfcurc
and confufed ideas of corpuicles or minute bodies
fo to be divided, when by former divifious they
are reduced to a fmallnefs much exceeding the
perception of any of our fcnies : and ib all that
R 2 we

i$6 DIVISIBILITY.

we have clear and diftincl: ideas of, >is of what
divifion in general or abftractedly is, and the rela-
tion of totum and pars : But of the bulk of the
body, to be thus infinitely divided after certain
progrefiions, I think we have no clear nor diftincl
idea at all. For I aik any one, Whether taking
the fmallefl atom of duft he ever faw, he has any
diftincl: idea (bating ftill the number which con-
cerns extenfion) betwixt the ioo,oooth, and the
i,ooo,oooth part of it ? Or if he thinks he can
refine his ideas to that degree without lofmg fight
of them, let him add ten cyphers to each of thefe
numbers. Such a degree of fmalnefs is not
unreafonable to be fuppefed ; fince a divifion car-
ried on fo far brings it no nearer the end of
infinite divifion than the firft divifion in two
halves does. I mud confefs, that I have no clear
diftincl: ideas of the different bulk or extenfion of
thofe bodies ; having but a very obfcure one of
either of them. So that I think, when we talk
of divifion of Bodies in infinitum, our ideas of
their diftincl: bulks, which is the fubjecl: and
foundation of divifion, comes after a little pro-
grefiion to be confounded and almoft loft in
obfcurity. For that idea which is to reprefent
only bignefs, muft be very obfcure and confufed
which we cannot diftinguifh from one ten times as
big but only by number : So that we have clear
diftinft ideas, we may fay, of ten and one, but no

dif-

DIVORCE.

di flinch ideas of two fuch extensions. It is plain
from hence, that when we talk of infinite divi-
fibility of body or extenfion, our diftin£t and
clear ideas are only of numbers.

LocKE-
DlVORCE AND REPUDIATION:

THERE is this difference between a divorce and
a repudiation, that the former is made by mutual
confent arifing from a mutual antipathy ; while
the latter is formed by the will and for the
advantage of one of the two parties, indepen-
dently of the will and advantage of the other.

The neceflity there is fometimes for women to
repudiate, and the difficulty there always is in
doing it, render that law very tyrannical which
gives this right to men, without granting it to
women. A hufband is the mafter of the houfe ;
he has a thoufand ways of confining his wife to
her duty, or of bringing her back to it : So that,
in his hands, it feems as if repudiation could be
only a frefh abufe of power*. But a wife who
repudiates, only makes ufe of a dreadful kind of
remedy. It is always a great misfortune for her
to go in fearch of a fecond hufband, when {he
has loft the moft part of her attractions with
another* One of the advantages attending the
charms of youth in the female fex is, that in an
R 3 advan*

ip8 DIVORCE.

advanced age the hufband is led to complacency
and leve by the remembrance of paft pleafures.

It is, then, a general rule, that in all countries
where the laws have given to men the power of
repudiating, they ought alfo to grant it to women.
Nay, in climates where women live in domeftic
flavery, one would think that the law ought to
favour women with the right of repudiation, and
hufbands only with that of divorce.

When wives are confined in a feraglio, the
hufband ought not to repudiate on account of an
oppofition of manners ; it is the hufband's fault
if their manners are incompatible.

Repudiation on account of the barrennefs of
the woman ought never to take place but where
there are many : this is of no importance to the
hufband.

The law of the Maldivians permitted them to
take a wife whom they had repudiated. A law
of Mexico forbad their being reunited under
pain of death. The law of Mexico was more
rational than that of the Maldivians : at the time
even of the diiTolution, it tended to the perpe-
tuity of marriage. Inftead of this, the law of the
Maldivians feemed equally to fport with marriage
and repudiation.

The law of Mexico admitted only of divorce.
This was a particular realon for their net per-
mitting thofe who were voluntarily feparated to

be

DIVORCE. 199

be ever reunited. Repudiation feems chiefly to
proceed from a haftinefs of temper, and from the
dictates of paffion ; while divorce appears to be
an affair of deliberation.

Divorces are frequently of great political ufe :
but as to the civil utility, they are eftablifhed
only for the advantage of the hufband and wife ;
and are not always favourable to their children.

MoNTESQJJIEUr

DOTAGE.

TH E dotage of old pejfons is oftentimes fome-
thing more than a mere decay of memory : For
they miftake things prefent for others ; and their
difcourfe is often foreign to the objects that are
prefented to them. However, the imperfection
of their memories, in refpect of impreflions juft
made, or at fhort intervals of paft time, is one
principal fource of their miflakes. One may
fuppofe here, that the part of the brain which
receives ideas is decayed in a peculiar manner,
perhaps from too great ufe ; while the parts appro-
priated to the natural, vital, and animal motions,
remained tolerably perfect. The fmufes of the
brain are probably confiderably diilended in thefe
cafes, and the brain itfelf in a languishing ilate ;
for there feems to be a confiderable refemblance
between the inconuftencies of fome kinds of

do-

DOTAGE.

dotage and thofe of dreams. Befides which, it
may be obferved, that in dotage the perfon is
often fluggifh and lethargic ; and that as a defect
of the nutritive faculty in the brain will permit
the finufes to be more eafily diftended, fo a dif-
tenfion of the finufes from this or any other
caufe may impede the due nutrition of the brain.
We fee that in old perfons all the parts, even the
bones themfeives, wafte and grow lefs. Why
may not this happen to the brain, the origin of
all, and arife from an obftruction of the infinitely
fmall veflels of the nervous fyftem ; this obftruc-
tion caufing fuch a degree of opacity, as greatly to
abate, or even deftroy, the powers of afibciation
and memory ? When old perfons relate the inci-
dents of their youth v/ith great precifion, it is
rather owing to the memory of many preceding
memories, recollections, and relations, than to
the memory of the thing itfelf.

HARTLEY.

DREAMS.

WE have many ftriking inftances of dreaming
in men and animals. The poet verfifies, the ma-
thematician views figures, the metaphyfician rea-
fons, and the dog hunts in his dreams. Is this
the a£tion of the body's organs, or is it merely
the foul, which, now freed from the power of die

fenfes,

DREAM s. 201

fenfes, acts in the full enjoyment of its pro-
perties ? If the organs alone produce our dreams
by night, why not our ideas by day ? If it be
merely the foul adding of itfelf, and quiet by the
fufpenfion of the fenfes, which is the only caufc
and fubjecl: of all our fleeping ideas; whence is It
that they are almoft ever irrational, irregular, and
incoherent ? Can it be that, in the time of the
foul's moft abftratl quietude, its imagination
would be the moft confufed ? Is it fantaftical
when free ? Were it born with metaphyfical ideas,
as fome writers, who were troubled with waking
dreams, have affirmed, its pure and luminous ideas
of being, of infinitude, and of all primary prin-
ciples, naturally mould awake in her with the
greateft energy when the body is fleeping, and
men mould philofophife bed in their dreams —
Whatever fyftem you efpoufe, however you may
labour to prove that memory ftirs the brain, and
your brain your foul ; you muft allow that, in
all your ideas in fleep, you are entirely paf-
five ; your will has no (hare in thofe images.
Thus it is clear, that you can think feven or
eight hours on a ftretch, without having the leaft
inclination to think, and even without being cer-
tain that you do think. Confider this, and tell
me what is man's compound ? Superftition has
always dealt much in dreams; nothing, indeed,
was more natural. A man deeply concerned

about

202 DREAMS.

about his miftrefs who lies ill, dreams that he
fees her dying ; and the next day fhe actually
dies : then, to be fure, God had given him pre-
vious knowledge of his beloved's death. — A com-
mander of an army dreams much of gaining a
battle ; gains it : then the gods had intimated to
him that he fhould be conqueror. — It is only fuch
dreams as meet with fome accomplifhment that
are taken notice ofj the others \ve think not
worth remembrance. Dreams make full as great
a part of ancient hiftory as oracles.
Somnia-qita ludunt animos voliiantibus umbris,
Non delubra. deum> nee ab athere numina mittitntt
Sedfua quifquefacit.

VOLTAIRE.

FEMALE DRESS.

IT is well known that a loofe and eafy drefs
contributes much to give both fexes thofe fine
proportions of body that are obfervable in the
Grecian ftatues, and which ferve as models to our
prefent artifts ; nature being too much disfigured
among us to afford them any fuch. The Greeks
knew nothing of thofe Gothic fhackles, that
multiplicity of ligatures and bandages, with which
our bodies are comprefled. Their women were
ignorant of the ufe of whalebone (lays, by which
ours diftort their fhape inftead of difplaying it.

This.

E S S. 203

This practice, carried to fo great anexcefs as it is
in England, muft in time degenerate the fpecies,
and is an inftance of bad tafte. Can it be a plea-
fmg fight to behold a woman cut in two in the
middle, as it were, like a wafp ? on the contrary,
it is as fnocking to the eye as it is painful to the
imagination. A fine (hape, like the limbs, hath its
due fize and proportion; a diminution of which is
certainly a defect. Such a deformity alfo would
be {hocking in a naked figure ; wherefore then
mould it be efteemed a beauty in one that is
drefied ? — Every thing that confines and lays na-
ture under a reflraint, is an inftance of bad tafte:
This is as true in regard to the ornaments of the
body as to the embellifhments of the mind. Life,
health, reafon, and convenience, ought to be
taken firft into confideration. Gracefulnefs cannot
fubfift without eafe; delicacy is not debility -r nor
muft a woman be fick in order to pleafe. In-
firmity and ficknefs may excite our pity ; but
tlefire and pleafure require the bloom and vigour
of health. ROUSSEAU.

DURATION.

IT is evident to any one who will but obferve
what pafles in his own mind, that there is a
train of ideas which conftantly fucceed one ano-
ther in his underftanding as long as he is awake.

Re-

204 , DURATION-.

Reflection on thefe appearances of feveral ideas,
one after another in our minds, is that which
furnifhes us with the idea of fuccejfion : and the
diflance between any parts of that fucceffion, or
between the appearance of any two ideas in our
minds, is that we call duration. For whilft we
are thinking, or whilft we receive fucceffively fe-
veral ideas in our mind, we know that we do
exift, and fo we call the exiftence, or the com-
tinuation of the exiftence of ourfelves, or any
thing elfe, commenfurate to the fucceffion of any
ideas in our minds, the duration of ourfelves, or
any other thing coexifting with our thinking.

That we have our notion of fucccjjlon and du~
ration from this original, viz. from reflection on
the train of ideas, which we find to appear one
after another in our own minds, feems plain to
me, in that we have no perception of duration,
but by confidering the train of ideas that take
their turns in our underftanding. When that
fucceffion of ideas ceafes, our perception of du-
ration ceafes with it; which every one clearly
experiences in himfelf whilft he fleeps foundly,
whether an hour, or a day, or a month, or a
year; of which duration of things, whilft he
fleeps, or thinks not, he has no perception at all,
but it is quite loft to him ; and the moment where-
in he leaves off" to think, until the moment he
begins to think again, feems to him to have no

diftance.

DURATION.

diftance. And fo I doubt not but it will be to a
waking man, if it were poflible for him to keep
only one idea in his mind, without variation,
and the fucceflion of others. And we fee, that
one who fixes his thoughts very intently on one
thing, fo as to take but little notice of the fuc-
ceflion of ideas that pafs in his mind whilil he is
taken up with that earned contemplation, lets flip
out of his account a good part of that duration,
and thinks that time fhorter than it is. But if
fleep commonly unites the diftant parts of dura-
tion, it is becaufe during that time we have no
fucceflion of ideas in our minds. For if a man
during his fleep dreams, and variety of ideas
make themfelves perceptible in his mind one after
another, he hath then, during fuch a dreaming,
a fenfe of duration, and of the length of it. By
which it is to me very clear, that men derive their
ideas of duration from their reflection on the train
gf the ideas they obferve to fucceed one another
in their own underftandings ; without which ob-
fervation they can have no notion of duration,
whatever may happen in the world.

LOCKE,

VOL. I. S . f E.

206 ECCLESIATICAL POWER.

E.

ECCLESIASTICAL POWER AND ITS
INFLUENCE.

TN all Chriftian churches the benefices of the
clergy are a fort of freeholds, which they en-
joy, not during pleafure, but during life or good
behaviour. If they held them by a more preca-
rious tenure, and were liable to be turned out
upon every flight difobligation either of the So-
vereign or of his minifters, it would perhaps be
impoflible for them to maintain their authority
with the people; who would then confider them
as mercenary dependents upon the court, in the
fmcerity of whofe inftruclions they could no
longer have any confidence. But (hould the So-
vereign attempt irregularly, and by violence, to
deprive Any number of clergymen of their free-
holds

ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 207

holds on account perhaps of their having pro-
pagated, with more than ordinary zeal, fome
factious or feditious doctrine; he would only
render by fuch perfecution both them and their
doctrine ten times more popular, and therefore
ten times more troublefome and dangerous than
they had been before. Fear is in almoil all cafes
a wretched inftrument of govsrnment, and ought
in particnlar never to be employed againft any
order of men who have the fmalleft pretenfions
to independency. To attempt to terrify them,
ferves only to irritate their bad humour, and to
confirm them in an oppofition, which more gentle
ufage perhaps might eafily induce them either to
foften or to lay afide altogether. The violence
which the French government ufually employed
in order to oblige all their parliaments, or fove-
reign courts of juftice, to enregifter any unpopu-
lar edict, very feldom fucceeded. The means
commonly employed, however, the imprifonment
of all the refractory members, one would think
were forcible enough. The princes of the houfe
of Stuart fometimes employed the like means in
order to influence fome of the members of the
Parliament of England; and they generally found
them equally intractable. The Parliament of
England is now managed in another manner ;
and a very fmall experiment which the Duke of
Choifeul made about twelve years ago upon tho
S 2 ' Par-

208 ECCLESIASTICAL POWER.

Parliament of Paris, demonftrated fufficiently
that all the Parliaments of France might have
been managed ftill more eafily in the fame man-
ner. That experiment was not purfued. For
though management and perfuafion are always
the eafieft and the fafeft inflruments of govern-
ment, as force and violence are the worfl and the
moft dangerous j yet fuch, it feems, is the natural
infolence of man, that he almoft always difdains
to ufe the good inftrument, except when he can-
not or dare not ufe the bad one. The French go-
vernment could and durft ufe force, and there-
fore difdained to ufe management and perfuafion.
But there is no order of men, it appears, I believe,
from the experience of all ages, upon whom it is
fo dangerous, or rather fo pefe£Hy ruinous, to
employ force and violence, as upon the refpe&ed
clergy of any eftablifhed church. The rights, the
privileges, die perfonal liberty of every individual
ecclefiaftic who is upon good terms with his own
order, are even in the moft defpotic governments
more refpedted than thofe of any other perfon of
nearly equal rank and fortune. It is fo in every
gradation of defpotifm, from that of the gentle,
and mild government of Paris, to that of the vio-
lent and furious government of Conftantinople.
But though this order of men can fcarce be ever .
forced, they may be managed as eafily as any other;
and the fecurity of the Sovereign, as well as the

public

ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 209

public tranquillity, fecms to depend very much
upon the means which he has of managing
them j and thofe means feem to confift altoge-
ther in the preferment which he has to beftow
upon them.

In the ancient conftitution of the Chriftian
church,, the bifhop of each diocefe was elected by
the joint votes of the clergy and of the people of
the Epifcopal city. The people did not long re-
tain their right of election ; and while they did
retain it, they almoft always acted under the in-
fluence of the clergy, who in fuch fpiritual matters
appeared to be their natural guides. The clergy,
however, foon grew weary of the trouble of ma-
naging them, and found it eafier to elect their
own biihops themfclves. The abbot in the fame
manner was elected by the monks of the mona-
ftery, at leafl in the greater part of abbacies'. Ail
the inferior ecclefiaftical benefices comprehended
within the diocefe were collated by the bifhop,
who bellowed them upon fuch ecclefiaftlcs as ha
thought proper. All church preferments were in
this manner in the difpofal of the church. The
Sovereign, though he might have fome indirect
influence in thofe elections, and though it \v?s
fometimes ufual to aik. both his confent to dec i ,
and his approbation of the election, yet had ID
direct or fufficient means of managing the clergy.
The ambition of every .clergyman naturally led
* S 3 ' hi

2io ECCLESIASTICAL POWER,

him to pay court, not fo much to his Sovereign,
as to his own order, from which only he could
expect preferment.

Through the greater part of Europe the Pope
gradually drew to himfelf, firft the collation of
almoft all bHhoprics and abbacies, or of what
were called Confiftorial benefices; and afterwards,
by various machinations and pretences, of the
greater part of inferior benefices comprehended
within each diocefe ; little more being left to the
bifhop than \vhat was barely neceflary to give
him a decent authority with his own clergy. By
this arrangement the condition of the Sovereign
was dill worfe than it had been before. The
clergy of all the different countries of Europe
were thus formed into a fort of fpiritual army,
difperfed in different quarters indeed, but of
which all the movements and operations could
now be directed by one head, and conducted
upon one uniform plan. The 'clergy of each
particular country might be confidered as a par-
ticular detachment of that army, of which the
operations could eafily be fupported and feconded
by all the other detachments quartered in the
different countries round about. Each detatch-
ment was not only independent of the Sovereign
of the country in which it was quartered, and by
which it was maintained, but dependent upon a
foreign fovereign, who could at any time turn its

arms

ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 211

arms againft the Sovereign of that particular
country, and fupport them by the arms of all die
other detachments.

Thofe arms were the moft formidable that can
well be imagined. In the ancient flate of Europe,
before the eftablimment of arts and manufactures,
the wealth of the clergy gave them the fame fort
of influence over the common people, which
that of the great barons gave them over their re-
fpective vaiTals, tenants, and retainers. In the
great landed eftates, which the miftaken piety
both of princes and private perfons had beftowed
upon the church, jurifcliclions were eftablifhed
of the fame kind with thofe of the great barons ;
and for the fame reafon. In thofe great landed
eftates, the clergy, or their bailiffs, could eaiily
keep the peace without the fupport or affiftance
either of the King or of any other perfon ; and
neither the King nor any other perfon could keep
the peace there without the fupport and affiftance
of the clergy. The jurifdictions of the clergy,
therefore, in their particular baronies or manors,
were equally independent, and equally exclufive
of the authority of the King's courts, as thofe of
the great temporal lords. The tenants of the
clergy were, like thofe of the great barons, almoft
all tenants at will, entirely dependent upon their
immediate lords j and therefore liable to be called
out at pleafure, in order to fight in any quarrel

in

ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. '

in which the clergy might think proper to engage
them. Over and above the rents of thofe eftates,
the clergy poffeffed, in the tythes, a very large
portion of the rents of all the other eftates in
every kingdom of Europe. The revenues arifmg
from both thofe fpecies of rents were, the greater
part of them, paid in kind, in corn, wine, cattle,
poultry, &c. The quantity exceeded greatly
what the clergy could themfelves confume ; and
there were neither arts nor manufactures for the
produce of which they could exchange the fur-
plus. The clergy could derive advantage from
this immenfe furplus in no other way than by em-
ploying it, as the great barons employed the like
furplus of their revenues, in die moil profufe
hofpitality and in the moft extenfive charity.
Both the hofpitality and the charity of the ancient
clergy, accordingly, are faid to have been very
great. They not only maintained almoft the
whole poor of every kingdom, but many knights
and gentlemen had frequently no other means of
fubfiitence than by travelling about from mona-
ftery to monaftery, under pretence of devotion,
but in reality to enjoy the hofpitality of the clergy.
The retainers of fome particular prelates were
often as numerous as thofe of the greateft lay-
lords ; and the retainers of all the clergy taken
together were, perhaps, more numerous than
thofe of all the lay lords. There was always

much

ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 213

much more union among the clergy than among
the lay-lords. The former were under a regular
difcipline and fubordination to the papal autho-
rity : The latter were under no regular difcipline
or fubordination, but almoft always equally
jealous of one another, and of the King. Though
the tenants and retainers of the clergy, there-
fore, had both together been lefs numerous than
thofe of the great lay lords, and their tenants
were probably much lefs numerous ; yet their
union would have rendered them more formi-
dable. Thehofpitality and charity of the clergy,
too, not only gave them the command of a great
temporal force, but increafed very much the
weight of their fpiritual weapons. Thofe virtues
procured them the higheft refpecl: and veneration
among all the inferior ranks of people j of whom
many were conftantly, and almoft all occafion-
ally, fed by them. Every thing belonging or re-
lating to fo popular an order, its pofleflions, its
privileges, its doctrines, neceflarily appeared
facred in the eyes of the common people j and
every violation of them, whether real or pre-
tended, the higheft a£l of facrilegious wickednefs
and profanenefs. In this ftate of things, if the
Sovereign frequently found it difficult to refift the
confederacy of a few of the great nobility, we
cannot wonder that he mould find it ftill more
fo to refift the united force of the clergy of his

own

214 ECCLESIASTICAL POWER.

own dominions, fupported by that of the clergy
of all the neighbouring dominions. In fuch cir-
cumftances, the wonder is, not that he was fome-
times obliged to yield, but that he ever was able
torefift.

The privileges of the clergy in thofe ancient
times (which to us who live in the prefent times
appear the moft abfurd), their total exemption
from the fecular jurifdiftion, for example, or
what in England was called the benefit of clergy,
were the natural or rather the neceflary confe-
quences of this ftate of things. How dangerous
muft it have been for the Sovereign to attempt
to punifh a clergyman for any crime whatever, if
his own order v/ere difpofed to protect him, and
to reprefcnt either the proof as infufficient for
convicting fo holy a man, or the punimment as
too fevere to be inflicted upon one -whofe perfon
had been rendered facred by religion ? The So-
vereign could, in fuch circumflances, do no bet-
ter than leave him to be tried by the ecclefiafti-
cal courts ; who, for the honour of their own
order, were interefted to reftrain, as much as
poffible, every member of it from committing
enormous crimes, or even from giving occafion
to fuch grofs fcandal as might difguft the minds
of the people.

In the ftate in which things were through the
greater part of Europe during the tenth, eleventh,

twelfths

ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 215

twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, and for fome
time both before and after that period, the con-
flit ution of the church of Rome may be con-
fidered as the moft formidable combination that
ever was formed againft the authority and fecu-
rity of civil government, as well as againft the
liberty, reafon, and happinefs of mankind, which
can flourifli only where civil government is able
to protect them. In that conftitution, the grofleft
delufions of fuperftition were fupported in fuch
a manner by the private interefts of fo great a
number of people, as put them out of all danger
from any aflault of human reafon : becaufe though
human reafon might perhaps have been able to
unveil, even to the eyes of the common people,
fome of the delufions of fuperftition ; it could
never have diflblved the ties of private intereft.
Had this conftitution been attacked by no other
enemies but the feeble efforts of human reafon, it
mufhhave endured for ever. But that immenfe
and well-built fabric, which all the wifdom and
virtue of man could never have fhaken, much lefs
have overturned, was, by the natural courfe of
things, firft weakened, and afterwards in part
deftroyed ; and is now likely, in the courfe of a
few centuries more, perhaps, to crumble into
ruins altogether.

The gradual improvements of arts, manufac-
tures, and commerce, the fame caufes which

de-

2i<5 ECCLESIASTICAL POWER.

deftroyed the power of the great barons, deftroyed
in the lame manner, through the greater part of
Europe, the whole temporal power of the clergy.
In the produce of arts, manufactures, and com-
merce, the clergy, like the great barons, found
fomething for which they could exchange their
rude produce ; and thereby difcovered the means
of fpending their whole revenues upon their own
perfons, without giving any confiderable (hare of
them to other people. Their charity became
gradually lefs extenfive, their hofpitality lefs
liberal or lefs profufe. Their retainers became
confequently lefs numerous, and by degrees
dwindled away altogether. The clergy, too, like
the great barons, wifhed to get a better rent from
their landed eftates, in order to fpend it, in the
fame manner, upon the gratification of their own
private vanity and folly. But this increafe of
rent could be got only by granting leafes to their
tenants ; who thereby became in a great meafure
independent of them. The ties of intereft, which
bound the inferior ranks of people to the clergy,
were in this manner gradually broken and dii-
folved. They were even broken and dijTolved
fooner than thofe which bound the fame ranks
of people to the great barons : becaufe the bene-
fices of the church being, the greater part of
them, much fmaller than the eftates of the great
barons, the pofieflbr of each benefice was much
2 foon-

ECGLESlAStlCAL £o\VER.

fooner able to fpend the whole of its revenue upon
his own perfon. During the greater part of the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the power of
the great barons was, through the greater part of
Europe, in full vigour. But the temporal power
of the clergy, the abfolute command which they
had once had over the gfeat body of the people,
was very much decayed. The power of the
church was by that time very nearly reduced
through the greater part of Europe to what arofe
from her fpiritual authority ; and even that fpi-
vitual authority was much weakened when it
eeafed to be fupported by the charity and hofpita-
lity of the clergy. The inferior ranks of people
no longer looked upon that order, as they had
done before, as the comforters of their diftrefs,
and the relievers of their indigence. On the
contrary, they were provoked and difgufted by
the vanity, luxury, and expence of the richer
clergy, who appeared to fpend upon their own
pleafures what had always before been regarded
as the patrimony of the poor.

In this fituation of things, the fovereigns in
the different ftates of Europe endeavoured to re-
cover the influence which they had once had in
the difpofal of the great benefices of the church,
by procuring to the deans and chapters of each
diocefe the reiteration of their ancient right of
electing the bifhop, and to the monks of each

VOL. L T ab-

2i8 ECCLESIASTICAL PO\VER»

abbacy that of electing the abbot. The re-efta-
blifhing of this ancient order was the object: of
feveral ftatutes enacted in England during the
courfe of the fourteenth century, particularly of
what is called the Statute of Provifors; and of the
Pragmatic Sanction eftablifhed in France in the
fifteenth century. In order to render the election
valid, it was neceffary that the Sovereign fliould
both confent to it before-hand, and afterwards
approve of the perfon elected; and though the
election was flill fuppofed to be free, he had,
however, all the indirect means which his fitua-
tion neceflarily afforded him, of influencing the
clergy in his own dominions. Other regulations
of a fimilar tendency were eflablimed in other
parts of Europe. But the power of the Pope in
the collation of the great benefices of the church
feems, before the Reformation, to have been no
where fo effectually and fo univerfally reftrained
as in France and England. The Concordat af-
terwards, in the fixteenth century, gave to the
kings of France the abfolute right of prefenting
to all the great, or what are called the Confifto-
lial, benefices of the Gallican church.

Since the eftablifhment of the Pragmatic fanc-
tion and of the Concordat, the- clergy of France
have in general mown lefs refpedl: to the decrees
of the Papal court than the clergy of any other
Catholic country. In all the difputes which their

.So-

ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 219

Sovereign has had with the Pope, they have al-
moft conftantly taken party with the former.
This independency of the clergy of France upon
the court of Rome, feems to be principally founded
upon the Pragmatic fanclion and the Concordat.
In the earlier periods of the monarchy, the clergy
of France appear to have been as much devoted
to the Pope as thofe of any other country. When
Robert> the fecond Prince of the Capetian race,
was molt unjuftly excommunicated by the court
of Rome, his own fervants, it is faid, threw the
victuals which came from his table to the dogs,
and refufed to tafle any thing themfelves which
had been polluted by the contact of a perfon in
his fituation. They were taught to do fo, it may
very fafely be prefumed, by the clergy of his own
dominions. ^

The claim of collating to the great benefices
of the church, a claim in defence of which the
court of Rome had frequently {haken, and fome-
times overturned, the thrones of fome of the
greatefl fovereigns in Chriftendom, was in this
manner either retrained or modified, or given
up altogether, in many different parts of Europe,
even before the time of the Reformation. As the
clergy had now lefs influence over the people, fo
the ftate had more influence over the clergy.
The clergy therefore had both lefs power and

lefs inclination tb diflurb the {late. The au-

T 2 thority

220 ECCLESIASTICAL POWER.

tlicrity of the church of Rome was in this ftate 01
declenfipn at the time of the Reformation.

A. SMITH.

THE ADVANTAGE OF UNITING THE ClVIL

AND ECCLESIASTICAL POWERS IN EVERY

GOVERNMENT.

THE union of the civil and ecdeGaftical powers
ferves extremely in every civilized government to
the maintenance of peace and order, and prevents
thofe mutual encroachments which, as there can
be no ultimate judge between them, ai-e often
attended with the moft dangerous confequences,
Whether the fupreme magiftrate who unites thefe
powers, receives the appellation of Prince or Pre-
late, it is not material. The fuperior weight
which temporal interefts commonly bear in the
apprehenfions of men above fpiritual, renders the
civil part of his character moft prevalent ; and in
time prevents thofe grofs impoftures and bigotted
perfecutions which in all falfe religions are the
chief foundation of clerical authority.

HUME.

ECONOMY.

THE purfuit of the objects of private intereft
in all common, little, and ordinary cafes, ought
to flow rather from a regard to the general rules
which prefcribe fuch conduct, than from any

paf-

E C O N O MT.

pafTion for the objects themfelves. To be anxious,,
or to be laying a plot either to gain or fave
a (ingle ihilling, would degrade the moft vul-
gar tradefman in the opinion of all his neigh-
bours. Let his circumftances be ever fo mean,
no attention to any fuch fmall matters, for the
fake of the things themfelves, muft appear in his
conduct. His fituation may require the moft fe—
vere economy, and the moft exact affiduity ; but
each particular exertion of that economy and af-
fiduity muft proceed, not fo much from a regard
to that particular faving or gain, as from the gene-
ral rule which to him prefcribes, with theutmoft
rigour, fuch a tenor of conduct. His parfimony
to-day muft not arife from a defire of the parti-
cular three-pence which he will fave by it ; nor his
attendance in his fliop from a paflion for the par,-
ricular ten-pence which he will acquire by it :
both the one and the other ought to proceed
folely from a regard to the general rule, which
prefcribes with the moft unrelenting feverity this
plan of conduct to all perfons in his way of life.
In this confifts the difference between the cha-
racter of' a mifer and that of a perfon of exact
economy and affiduity. The one is anxious about
fmall matters for their own fake j the other at-
tends to them only in confequence of the fcheme
of 'life which he has laid down to himfelf.

A. SMITH,.
T3

222 EDUCATION.

EDUCATION.

THE time which we ufually beftow on the in-
ftru&ion of our children in principles, the rea-
fons of which they do not underftand, is worfe
than loft : it is teaching them to refign their fa-
culties to authority ; it is improving their me-
mories inftead of their underftandings ; it is gi-
ving them credulity inftead of knowledge ; and
it is preparing them for any kind of flavery which
can be impofed on them. Whereas, if we affifted
them in making experiments on themfelves j
induced them to attend to the confequence of
every a£tion, to adjuft their little deviations, and
fairly and freely to exercife their powers; they
would collect facls which nothing could contro-
vert. Thefe facts they would depofite in their
memories as in fecure and eternal treafures;
ihey would be materials for reflection, and in
time be formed into principles of conduct, which
no circumftances or temptations could remove.
This would be a method of forming a man who
would anfwer the end of his being, and make
himfelf and others happy.

WILLIAMS.

EDUCATION.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

I F men were educated to ufe the powers of
their minds freely j to inveftigate by their own
induftry all the principles they want ; to confi-
der nothing as an intellectual acquisition but in
confequence of fuch inveftigation : this know-
ledge would be a fure foundation of virtue, and
human life would have few crimes or miferies to
infefl it. Inftead of this, they are educated to
take almoft every thing from others, and to fuf-
fer their own powers to lie inaclive. Moft of
the vices of the world have arifen from the habit
men have fo long been in of believing inftead of
inquiring. A mind that is trained to inquiry, is
trained in a kind of activity which will lead to
virtue. A mind in which this activity is fup-
prefied, has a greater difficulty in becoming vir-
tuous, and is a much eafier prey to vice. It feems
to acquire knowledge, and has none ; and falfe
knowledge is worfe than none. All the wifdom
we obtain, by believing as we are commanded,
and committing to memory principles, doctrines,
and opinions, which we have never confidered or
do not underftand, is fo much poifon in the mind,
which acts the more furely and fatally as we have
no apprehenfion of danger from it. We fee men
overwhelmed with what they call doctrines and

prm-

principles both of religion and morality, without
being of any ufe to the world,- and without ever
performing a religious or moral action. It was
not fo when men were educated to inquire, to
think, to form to themfelvea a few principles
\yhich they comprehended and felt, and to aft on
them. This was the cafe in the beft ages of
Greece. Education had a few fimple and im-
portant objecls ; and they always related to pri-
vate and public virtue. It underwent fome mo-
difications, according to the circumflances of the
different pupils. It would aftonifh a modern tu-
tor to know the time and pains which were ta-
ken on thefe few things ; and to fee what won-
derful men were formed in this manner, Edu-
cation was then the art of developing the mind to
principles and employments which were fuited to
it, and giving it habits which, would lead to any
degree of real knowledge.. Education at prefent
is a different thing : it is the art of loading the
memory with the imperfect and ufelefs know-
ledge of all languages and all fciences ; and our
youth are often fent into the world without one.
principle of real wifdom, and almoft incapable of
any acl of public or private virtue*

"WILLIAMS*

EDUCATION. 22$

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

THE moft important and moft ufefu! rule of
education is, not to gain time, but to lofe it. If
children took a leap from their mother's breaft,
,;rul at once arrived at the age of reafon, the me-
thods of education now ufually taken with them
would be very proper : but according to the pro-
grefs of nature, they require thofe which are very
different. We mould not tamper with the mind
till it has acquired all its faculties : for it is im-
poflible it mould perceive the light we hold out
to it while it is blind ; or that it Ihould purfue,
over an immenfe plain of ideas, that route which
reafon hath fo (lightly traced, as to be perceptible
only to the marpeil fight.

The firil part of education therefore ought to
be purely negative. It confifts neither in teach-
ing virtue nor truth ; but in guarding the heart
from vice, and the mind from error. Take the
road dire£Uy oppofite to that which is in ufe, and
you will almoft always do right. Never argue
with a child, particularly in driving to reconcile
him to what he diilikes : for to ufe him to reafon.
only upon difagreeable fubjec"r,s, is the way to
difguft him, and bring argument early into difV
credit with a mind incapable of underftanding it.
Exercife his corporeal organ?, fenfes, and facul-

ties

EDUCITJOK.

ties as much as you pleafe ; but keep, his intellec-
tual ones inactive as long as poflible. Be cau-
tious of all the fentiments he acquires previous to
the judgment which Ihould enable him to fcruti-
nize them: Prevent or reftrain all foreign im-
preflions ; and in order to hinder the rife of evil,
be not in too great hurry to inftil good; for it is
only fuch when the mind is enlightened by rea-
fon. Look upon every delay as an advantage ; it
is gaining a great deal, to advance without lofing
any thing: let the infancy of children therefore
have time to ripen. In ftiort, whatever inftruc-
tion is neceffary for them, take care not to give it
them to-day, if it may be deferred without dan-
ger till to-morrow. Another confideration which
confirms the utility of this method, is the particu-
lar genius of the child ; which ought to be known
before it can be judged what mora-l regimen is
iJapted to it. Every mind has its peculiar turn,
according to which it ought to be educated ; and it
is of very material confequence to our endeavours
that it be educated according to that turn, and not
to any other. The prudent governor will watch
a long time the workings of nature, and will lay
the natural character under no unnecefiary rc-
ftraints. If we fet about any thing before we
know in what manner to a&,. we proceed at ran-
dom ; liable to miftake, we are frequently obliged
to undo what is done, and find ourfelves further

from

EDUCATION* 127

from the end defigned than if we had been lefs
precipitate to begin the work.

ROUSSEAU.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

IN the education of children, exceflive feverity,
as well as exceflive indulgence, fhould be equally
avoided. If you leave children to fufFer, you ex-
pofe their health, endanger their lives, and make
them actually miferable. On the .other hand, if
you are too anxious to prevent their being fenfible
of any kind of pain and inconvenience, you only
pave their way to feel much greater : you ener-
vate their conftitutions, make them tender and
effeminate : in a word, you remove them out of
their fituation as men, into which they muft
hereafter return in fpite of all your folicitude.
In order not to expofe them to the few evils na-
ture would inflici on them, you provide for them
many which .they would otherwife never have
fuffered.

Can you conceive any being can be truly happy
in circumftances inconfiftent with its conftitu-
tion ? And is it not inconfiftent with the confti-
tution of man to endeavour to exempt him from
all the evils incident to his fpecies ? Man is capa-
citated to experience great pleafure only by be-
ing inured to flight pain ; Such is the nature of

223 EDUCATION.

ip.an. If his phyfical Conftitution be too vigo-
rous, his moral conftitution tends to depravity.
The man who fhould be ignorant of pain, would
be a ftranger alfo to the fenfations of humanity,
and the tender feelings of compamon for his fpe-
cies: his heart would be unfufceptible of fympa-
"chy ; he would be unfocial ; he would be a mon-
fter among his fellow-creatures.

Would you know the mod infallible way to
make your child miferable ? It is to accuftom him
to obtain every thing he defires : For thofe de*
fires ftill increafing from the facility of gratifica-
tion, your incapacity to fatisfy them mufl foonef
or later reduce you to the neceflity of a refufal ;
and that refufal, fo new and uncommon, will give
him more trouble than even the want of that
•which he defires. From wanting your cane he
will proceed to your watch ; he will next want
the bird that flies in the air, the ftar that glitters
in the firmament ; in fhort, every thing he fees :
nothing Icfs than omnipotence would enable you
to fatisfy it.

Nature has contlituted children to claim our
love and afliftance ; but has {he made them to be
obeyed and feared ? A child mould obtain nothing
merely becaufe he afks for it, but becaufe he {lands
in need of it : A child mould be made to do no-
thing out of obedience, but only out of neceffity.
Thus the words ccmmand and obey mould have no
a place

EDUCATION. 229

place in his dictionary, much lefs thofe of duty
and obligntim : but thofe of power, neccfllty, im-
potence, and reftraint, ought to (land forth in ca-
pitals. It ought to be obferved, that as pain is
often a neceflity, fo plcafure is fometimes a natu-
ral want. Children have therefore but one de-
fire only which mould not be gratified ; and this
is the defire of exacting obedience. Hence it
follows, that in every thing they demand, it is the
motive which excites them to make fuch demand
which ought to engage our attention. Indulge
them as much as poifible in every thing which
may give them real pleafure; but conftanly refufe
them what they require from motives of caprice,
or merely to exercife their authority.

ROUSSEAU.

A COMPARATIVE VlE\V OF ANCIENT AND
MODERN EDUCATION.

DIFFERENT plans and different inflitutions
for education feem to have taken place in different
ages and nations. — In the republics of ancient
Greece, every free citizen was inftru&ed, under
the direction of the public magiftrate, in gym-
naftic exercifes and in mufic. By gymnaflic cx-
ercifes it was intended to harden his body, to
fharpen his courage, and to prepare him for the
fatigues and dangers of warj and as the Greek
militia was, by all accounts, one of the bed that

VOL. I. f U ever

230 EDUCATION.

ever was in the world, this part of their public
education muft have anfwered completely the
purpofe for which it was intended. By the other
part, mufic, it was propofed, at leaft by the phi-
lofophers and hiftorians who have given us an
account of thofe inftitutions, to humanize the
mind, to foften the temper, and to difpofe it for
performing all the focial and moral duties both of
public and private life.

In ancient Rome, the exercifes of the Campus
jMartius anfwered the fame purpofe as thofe of the
Gymnafium in ancient Greece, and they feem to
have anfwered it equally well. But among the
Romans there was nothing which correfponded
to the mufical education of the Greeks. The
morals of the Romans, however, both in private
and public life, feem to have been not only
equal, but upon the whole a good deal fuperior,
to thole of the Greeks. That they were fuperior
in private life, we have the exprefs teftimony of
Polybius and of Dionyfius of lialicarnaflus, two
authors well acquainted with both nations ; and
the whole tenor of the Greek and Roman hiftory
bears witnefs to the fuperiority of the public mo-
rals of the Romans. The good temper and mo-
deration of contending factions feems to be the
moft eflential circumllance in the public mo-
rals of a free people. But the factions of die
Greeks were almoil always violent and fangui-

nary j

EDUCATION. 231

nary: whereas, till the time of the Gracchi, no
blood had ever been fhed in any Roman faction ;
and from the time of the Gracchi the Roman re-
public may be confidered as in reality diflblved.
Notwithstanding, therefore, the very refpe&able
authority of Plato, Ariftotle, and Polybius, and
notwi'thltanding the very ingenious reafons by
which Mr Montefquieu endeavours to fupport
lhat authority, it feems probable that the muiical
education of the Greeks had no great effe£l in
mending their morals ; fince, without any fuch
education, thofe of the Romans were upon the
whole fuperior. The refpe£t of thofe ancient
fages for the inftitutions of their anceftors, had
probably difpofed them to find much political
wifdom in what was, perhaps, merely an ancient
cuftom, continued without interruption from
the earlieft period of thofe focieties to' the times
in which they had arrived at a confiderable de-
gree of refinement. Mufic and dancing are the
great amufements of almoft all barbarous na-
tions, and the great accomplifhments which are
fuppofed to fit any man for entertaining his fo-
cicty. It is fo at this day among die negroes on
the coaft of Africa. It was fo among the ancient
Celtes, among the ancient Scandinavians, and,
as we may learn from Homer, among the ancient
Greeks in the times preceding the Trojan war.
When the Greek tribes had formed themfelves
U 2 into

232 EDUCATION.

into little republics, it was natural that the ftudy
of thofe accomplilhments fhould for a long time
make a part of the public and common education
of the people.

The matters, who inftru&ed the young people
either in mufic or in military exercifes, do not
feem to have been paid, or even appointed by the
flate, either in Rome, or even in Athens ; the
Greek republic of whofe laws and cuftoms we
are the beft informed. The ftate required that
every free citizen mould fit himfelf for defending
it in war, and fhould, upon that account, learn his
military exercifes. But it left him to learn them
of fucli mailers as he could find ; and it feems to
have advanced nothing for this purpofe, but a.
public field or place of exercife, hi which he
ihould pradife and perform them.

la the early ages both of the Greek and Ro-
man republics, the other parts of education fcern
to have confifted in learning to read, write, and
aorount according to the arithmetic of die times-
Thofe accomplifliments the richer citizens feem
frequently to have acquired at home by the
afBitance of fome domeflic pedagogue, who was
generally either a flave or a freed-man ; and the
poorer citizens, in the fchools of fuch mafters as
made a trade of teaching for hire. Such parts of
education, however, were abandoned altogether
to the care of the parents or guardians of each

in-

EDUCATION. 233

individual. It does not appear that the ftate
ever aflumed any infpeclion or direction of them.
By a law of Solon, indeed, the children were ac-
quitted from maintaining thofe parents in their
old age who had neglected to initruct them in
fome profitable trade or bufinefs.

In the progrefs of refinement, when philofophy
and rhetoric came into fafhion, the better fort of
people ufed to fend their children to the fchools
of philofophers and rhetoricians, in order to be
inftrudted in thefe fafhionable fciences : But thofe
fchools were not fupported by the public ; they
v^ere for a long time barely tolerated by it. The
demand for philofophy and rhetoric was. for a long
time fo fmall, that the firft profeiTed teachers of
either could not find conftant employment in
any one city, but were obliged to travel about
from place to place. In this manner lived Zeno
of Elea, Protagoras, Gorgias, Hippias, and many
others. As the demand increafed, the. fchools
both of philofophy and rhetoric became ftation-
ary; firft in Athens, and afterwards in feveral
other cities. The ftate, however, feems never
to have encouraged them further than by ailign-
ing to fome of them a particular place to teach
in, which was fometimes done too by private
donors. The ftate feems to have affigned the
Academy to Plato, the Lyceum to Ariftotle, and
the Portico to Zeno of Citta the founder of the
U 3 Stoics.

234 EDUCATION.

Stoics. But Epicurus bequeathed his gardens tp
his own fchool. Till about the time of Marcus
Antoninus, however, no teacher appears to have
had any fulary from the public, or to have had
any other emoluments but what arofe from the
honoraries or fees of his fcholars. The bounty
which that philofophical emperor, as we learn
from Lucian, beftowed upon one of the teachers
of philofophy, probably laited no longer than his
own life. There was nothing equivalent to the
privileges of graduation ; and to have attended any
of thofe fchools was not necefiary, in order to be
permitted to prajflife any particular trade or pro-
feflion. If the opinion of their own utility could
not draw fcholars to them, the lav/ neither forced
any body to go to them, nor rewarded any body
for having gone to them. The teachers had no
jurifdiftion over their pupils, nor any other au-
thority befides that natural authority, which fu-
perior virtue and abilities never fail to procure
from young people, towards thofe who are en-
trufted with any part of their education.

At Rome, the ftudy of the civil law made a
part of the education, not of the greater part of
the citizens, but of fome particular families.
The young people, however, who wifhed to ac-
quire knowledge in the law, had no public fchool
to go to, and had no other method of (tudying it,
than by frequenting the company of fuch of their

rela-

E D U C A T I G N". 235

relations and friends as were fuppofed to under-
fiand it. It is perhaps worth while to remark,
that though the laws of the twelve tables were,
many of them, copied from thofe of fome an-
cient Greek republics, yet law never feems to
have grown up to be a fcience in any republic
of ancient Greece. In Rome it became a fcience
very early, and gave a confidcrable degree of
illuflration to thofe citizens who had die reputa-
tion of underftanding it. In the republics of
ancient Greece, particularly in Athens, the or-
dinary courts of juftice confifted of numerous,
and therefore disorderly, bodies of people, who
frequently decided almoft at random, or as cla-
mour, fadlion, and party-fpirit happened to de-
termine. The ignominy of an unjuft decifion,
when it was to be divided among five hundred,
a thoufand, or fifteen hundred people (for fome
of their courts were fo very numerous), could
not fall very heavy upon any individual. At
Rome, on the contrary, the principal courts of
juftice confifted either of a fingle judge, or of a
fmall number of judges, whofe characters, efpe-
cially as they deliberated always in public, could
not fail to be very much affected by any rafli or
unjuft decifion. In doubtful cafes, fuch courts,
from their anxiety to avoid blame, would na-
turally endeavour to fhelter themfelves under the
example, or precedent, of the judges who had

fat

EDUCATION*.

fat before them, either in the fame or in feme
other court. This attention to practice and
precedent, neceffarily formed the Roman law
into that regular and orderly fyftem in which it
has been delivered down to us ; and the like at-
tention has had the like effects upon the laws of
every other country where fuch attention has
taken place. The luperiority of character in the
Romans over that of the Greeks, fo much re-
marked by Polybius and Dionyfius of Halicar*
naflus, was probably more owing to the better
conftitutiori of their courts of juilice* than to
any of the circumftances to which thofe authors
afcribe it. The Romans are faid to have been
particularly diflinguimed for their fuperior re-
fpett to an oath. But the people who were ac-
cuftomed to make oath only before feme diligent
and well-informed court of juftice, would natu-
rally be much more attentive to what they fwore,
than they who were accuflomed to do the fame
thing before mobbiili and diforderly affemblies.

The abilities, both civil and military, of the
Greeks and Romans, will readily be allowed to
have been at lead equal to thofe of any modern
nation. Our prejudice is perhaps rather to over-
rate them. But except in what related to mi-
litary exercifes, the ftate feems to have been .at
no pains to form thofe great abilities : for I can-
not be induced to believe that die jnufical educa-
tion

EDUCATION. 237

tion of the Greeks could be of much confequence
in forming them. Matters, however, had been
found, it feems, for inftru&ing the better fort
of people among thofe nations in every art and
fcience in which the circumftances of their fociety
rendered it necefiary or convenient for them to
be inftructed. The demand for fuch inftrudtion
produced, what it always produces, the talent
for giving it ; and the emulation which an un-
reftrained competition never fails to excite, ap-
pears to have brought that talent to a very high
degree of perfection. In the attention which the
ancient philofophers excited in the empire, which
they acquired over the opinions and principles of
their auditors, in the faculty which they poflefled
of giving a certain tone and character to the con-
duct and converfat.on of thofe auditors j they
appear to have been much fuperior to any modern
teachers. In modern times, the diligence of
public teachers is more or lefs corrupted by the
circumstances, which render them more or lefs
independent of their fuccefs and reputation in
their particular profemons. Their f.ilaries too
put the private teacher, who would pretend tq
come into competition with them, in the fame
flate with a merchant who attempts to trade with-
out a bounty, in competition with thofe who
trade with a confiderable one. If he fells his
goods U neatly the f-.mo price, lie cannot have

the

238 EDUCATION.

the fame profit; and poverty and beggary at loifl,
if not bankruptcy and ruin, will infallibly be his
lot. If he attempts to fell them" much dearer, he
is likely to have fo few cuftomers that his cir-
cumflances will not be much mended. The
privileges of graduation, befules, are in many
countries necefTary, or at leaft extrerhely con-
venient, to moil men of learned profeiRons, that
is, to the far greater part of thofe who have oc-
cafion for a learned education. But thofe privi-
leges can be obtained only by attending the lec-
tures of the public teachers. The moft careful
attendance upon the ableft inftru&ions of any pri-
vate teacher cannot always give any title to de-
mand them. It-is from thefe different caufes that

the pvivf.tc tCnvliCr of ~r,V of iiic fcwil€c3 WIOCH

are commonly taught in univerfities, is in modern
times generally confidered as in the very lowed
order of men of letters. A man of real abilities
can fcarce find out a more humiliating or a more
unprofitable employment to turn them to. The
endowments of felloes and colleges have, in this
manner, not only corrupted die diligence of pub-
lic teachers, but have rendered it almoit impof-
fible to have any good private ones.

Were there no public inftitutions for educa-
tion, no fyftem, no fcience would be taught for
which there was not fome demand ; or which the
circumilances cf the times did not render it, ei-
ther

EDUCATION. 239

ther neceffary, or convenient, or at leaft fafliion-
able to learn. A private teacher could never find
his account in teaching, either an exploded and
antiquated fyflem of a fcience acknowledged to
be ufeful, or a feience univerfally believed to be
a mere ufelefs and pedantic heap of fophiftry and
nonfenfe. Such fyftems, fuch fciences, can fubfifl
no where, but in thofe incorporated focieties for
education whofe profperity and revenue are in a
great meafure independent of their reputation,
and altogether independent of their induftry.
Were there no public inftitutions for education, a
gentleman, after going through, with application
and abilities, the mod complete courfe of edu-
cation which the circumftances of the times were
fuppofed to afford, could not come into the world
completely ignorant of every thing which is the
common fubject of converfation among gentle-
men and men of the world.

There are no public inftitutions for the edu-
cation of women; and there is accordingly no-
thing ufelefs, abfurd, or fantastical in the com-
mon courfe of their education. They are taught
what their parents or guardians judge it neceflary
or ufeful for them to learn ; and they are taught
nothing elfe. Every part of their education
tends evidently to fome ufeful purpofe ; either to
improve the natural attractions of their perfon,
or to form their mind ta referve, to modefly, to

chaftity,

2 40 EDUCATION.

chaftity, and tooeconomy: to render them boiu
likely to become the miftreffes of a family, and
to behave properly when they have become fuch.
In every part of her life, a woman feels fome con-
veniency or advantage from every part of her edu-
cation. It feldom happens that a man, in any part
of his life, derives any conveniency or advantage
from fome of the molt laborious and troublefome
parts of his education.

A. SMITH.

ATTFNTION TO THE EDUCATION OF THE
COMMON PEOPLE, INCUMBENT UPON THE
PUBLIC.

OUGHT the public to give no attention, it
may be aflced, to the education of the people ? Or
if it ought to give any, what are the different parts
of education which it ought to attend to in the
different orders of the people? and in what man-
ner ought it to attend to them ?

In fome cafes, the ft ate of the fociety neceflarily
places the greater part of individuals in fuch fitu-
ations as naturally form in them, without any at-
tention of government, almoft all the abilities and
virtues which that ftate requires, or perhaps can
admit of. In other cafes, the ftate of the fociefy
does not place the greater part of individuals in
fuch fituations-, and fome attention of govern-
3 merit

EDUCATION. 241

fnent is neceflary, in order to prevent the almofk
entire corruption and degeneracy of the great body
of the people.

In the progrefs of the divifion of labour, the
employment of the far greater part of thofe who
live by labour, that is, of the great body of the
people, comes to be confined to a few very fimple
operations •, frequently to one of two. But the
under {landings of the greater part of men are ne-
ceffarily formed by their ordinary employments.
The man whofe whole life is fpent in performing
a few fimple operations, of which the effects too
are, perhaps, always the fame, or very nearly the
fame, has no occafion to exert his underftaiiding,
or to exercife his invention in finding out expe*
dients for removing difficulties which never occur.
He naturally lofes, therefore, the habit of fuch
exertion, and generally becomes as ftupid and ig-
norant as it is poffible for a human creature to be-
come. The torpor of his mind renders him, not
only incapable of relifhing or beating a part ifl
any rational converfation, but of conceiving any
generous, noble, or tender fentiment; and confe-
quently of forming any juft judgment concerning
many even of the ordinary duties of private life.
Of the great and extenfive interefts of his coun-
try, he is altogether incapable of judging; and
unlefs very particular pains have been taken to
render him otherwife, he is equally incapable of
VOL. I. X f defend*

242 EDUCATION.

defending his country in war. The uniformity of
his ftationary life .naturally corrupts the courage
of his mind, and makes him regard with abhor-
rence the irregular, uncertain, and adventurous
Mfe of a foldier. It corrupts even the activity of
his body, and renders him incapable of exerting
his ftrength with vigour and pe-rfeverauce in any
other employment than that to which he has been
bred. His dexterity at his own particular trade
feems, in this manner, to be acquired at the ex-
pence of his intellectual, focial, and martial vir-
tues. But in every improved and ci-vilized ibc'iety
this is the ftate in which the labouring poor, that
is, the great body of the people, muft neceflarily
fall, unlefs government takes fome pains to pre-
vent it.

It is otherwife in the barbarous focieties, as they
are commonly called, of hunters, of fhepherds,
and even of hufbandmen in that rude ftate of huf-
bandry which precedes the improvement of Mna-
rmfaclures, and the extenfion of foreign com-
merce. In fuch focieties, the varied occupations
of every man oblige every man to exert his capa-
city, and to invent expedients for removing diffi-
culties which are continually occurring. Inven-
tion is kept alive, and the mind is not fuffered to
fall into that drowfy ftupidity, which, in a civili-
sed fociety, feems to benumb the understanding of
almoft all the inferior ranks of people. In thofe

bar-

EDUCATION. 243

barbarous focieties, as they are called, every man>
it has already been obferved, is a warrior. Every
man too is in fome meafure a ftatefman, and can
form a tolerable judgment concerning the intereft
of the fociety, and the conduct of thofe who go-
vern it. How far their chiefs are good judges in
peace, or good leaders in- war, is obvious to the
obfervation of aknoft every fingle man among
them. In fuch a fociety, indeed, no man can well
acquire that improved and refined underftanding,
which a few men fometimes poffefs in a more ci-
vilized ftate. Though in a rude fociety there is
a good deal of variety in the occupations of every
individual, there is not a great deal in thofe of
the whole fociety. Every man does, or is capable
of doing, almoft every thing which any other man
does, or is capable of doing. Every man has a
confiderable degree of knowledge, ingenuity, and
invention; but fcar-ce any man has a great degree.
The degree, however, which is commonly pof-
fefled, is generally fufficient for conducting the
whole fimple bufinefs of the fociety. In a civili-
zed ftate, on the contrary, though there is little
variety in the occupations of the greater part of
individuals, there is an almoft infinite variety in'
thofe of the whole fociety. Thefe varied occu-
pations prefent an almoft infinite variety of ob-
jects to the contemplation of thofe few, who, be-
ing attached to no particular occupation them*
X 2 fclves,,

2-44 EDUCATION.

felves, have leifure and inclination to examine the
occupations of other people. The contemplation
of fo great a variety of objects necefiarily exer-
cifes their minds in endlefs comparifons and com-p
binations, and renders their underftandings, in an
extraordinary degree, both acute and comprehen-
five. Unlefs thofe few, however, happen to be
placed in fome very particular filiations, their
great abilities, though honourable to themfelves,
may contribute very little to the good government
or happinefs of their fociety. Nothwithftanding
the great abilities of thcfe few, all the nobler parts
of the human character may be, in a great rnea-
fure, obliterated and extinguifhed in.the great body
of the people..

The education of the common people requires,
•perhaps, in a civilized and commercial fociety,
the attention of the public more than that of people
of fome rank and fortune. People of fome rank
and fortune are generally eighteen or nineteen
years of age before they enter upon that particu-
lar bufinefs, profeflion, or trade, by which they
propofe to diftinguifh themfelves in -the world.
They have before that full time to acquire, or at
leaft to fit themfelves for afterwards acquiring,
every accomplishment which, can recommend
them to the public efteem, or render them worthy
of it. Their parents or guardians are generally
fufBciently anxious that they fhould be fo accom-
pli fheu-.

EDUCATIONS 245

plifhed; and are, in moft cafes, willing enough
to lay out the expence which is necefiary for that
purpofe. If they are not always properly educa-
ted, it is feldom from the want of expence laid
out upon their education ; but from the impro-
per application of that expence. It is feldom from
the want of matters; but from the negligence
and incapacity of the maflers who are to be had,
and from the difficulty, or rather from the im-
poilibility which there is, in the prefent ftate of
things, .of finding any better. The employments,
too, in which people of feme- rank or fortune
fpend the greater part of their lives, are not, like
thofe of the common people, firnple and uniform.
They are aimed all of them extremely complica-
ted ; and fuch as exercife the head more than the
hands. The underftandings of thofe who are en-
gaged in fuch employments can feldom grow tor-
pid for want of exercife. The employments of
people of feme rank and fortune, befides, are fel-
dom fuch as harrafs them from morning to night.
They generally have a good deal of Iciiure; du-
ring which they may perfect themfelves in every
branch either of ufeful or ornamental knowledge
of which they may have laid the foimdation, or for
which they may have acquired fome tafte in the
earlier part of life.

It is otherwife with the common people. They

have little time to fpare for education. . Their pa*-

X 3 rents

246 EDUCATION.

rents can fcarce afford to maintain them even in
infancy. As foon as they are able to work, they
muft apply to fome trade by which they can earn
their fubfiftence. That trade too is generally fo
Cmple and uniform as to give little exercife to the
underftanding; while, at the fame time, their la-
bour is both fo confkant and fo fevere, that it
leaves them little leifure and lefs inclination to.
apply to, or even to think of any thing elfe.

But though the common people cannot, in any
civilized fociety, be fo well inftructed as people
of fome rank and fortune, the moft effential parts
of education, however, to read, write, and ac-
count, can be acquired at fo early a period of life,
that the greater part even of thofe who are to be
bred to the loweft occupations, have 'time to ac-
quire them before they can be employed in thofe
occupations. For a very fmall expence, the pub-
lic can facilitate, can encourage, and can even im-
pofe upon almoft the whole body of the people,
the neceffity of acquiring thofe moft eflential parts
of education.

The public can facilitate this acquifition by efta-
blifhing in every parifh or diftri£t a little fchool,
where children may be taught for a reward fo mo-
derate, that even a common labourer may afford
it ; the mafter being partly, but not wholly, paid
by the public-, becaufe if he was wholly, or even
principally paid by it, he would foon learn to ne-
glect

EDUCATION. 247

gleet his bufmefs. In Scotland, the eftablifhment
of fuch parifh-fchools has taught almoft the whole
common people to read, and a very great propor-
tion of them to write and account. In England,
the eflablifhment of charity fehools has had an ef-
fecl of the fame kind ; though not fo univerfally,
becaufe the eflablifhment is not fo univerfal. If
in thofe little fchools the books, by which the chil-
dren are taught to read, were a little more in-
ftruclive than they commonly are; and if, inftead
of a little fmattering of Latin, which the chil-
dren of the common people are fometimes taught
there, and which can fcarce ever be of any ufe
to them, they were inftruc"ted in the elementary
parts of geometry and mechanics, die literary edu-
cation of this rank of people would perhaps be as
complete as it can be. There is fcarce a com-
mon trade which does not afford fome opportu-
nities of applying to it the principles of geometry
and mechanics, and which would not therefore
gradually exercife and improve the common
people in thofa principles; the neceflary introduc-
tion to the moft fublime as well as to the moft
ufeful fciences.

The public can encourage the acquifition of
thofe moft eflential parts of education, by giving
fmail premiums and little badges of diftinction to
the children of the common people who excel in
them.

The

248 EDUCATION.

The public can impofe upon almoft the whole
body of the people the neceflity of acquiring thofe
moft efiential parts of education, by obliging
every man to undergo an examination or proba*
tion in them before he can obtain the freedom ri
any corporatioiijOr.be allowed to fet up any trade
either in a village or town corporate.

It was in this manner, by facilitating die acoui*
fition of their military, and gymnaftic exercifes, by
encouraging it,., and even by impofing upon the
whole body of the people the neceffity of learn-
ing thofe exercifes, that, the Greek and Roman re^
publics maintained the martial fpirit of their re-
fpective citizens. They facilitated the acquifition
cf thofe exercifes, by appointing a certain place
for learning and praclifmg them, and by granting
to certain mafters the privilege of teaching in that
place. Thofe matters do not appear to have had
either falaries or exclufive privileges of any kind.
Their reward confifted altogether in what they
got from their fcholars ; and a citizen who had
learnt his exercifes in the public Gymnafia, had
no fort of legal advantage over one who had learnt
them privately, provided the latter had learn*
them equally well. Thofe republics encouraged
the acquifition of thofe exercifes, by beftowing
little premiums and badges of distinction upon
thofe who excelled in them. To have gained a
prize in the Olympic, Ifthmian, or Nemaeau

games,

EDUCATION.

games, gave illuflration, not only to the perfon
who gained it, but to his whole family and kin-
dred. The obligation which every citizen was un-
der to ferve a certain number of years, if called
upon, in the armies of the republic, fufficiently
impofed the necefiity of learning thofe exercifes,
without which he could not be fit for that fervice.
That in the progrefs of improvement, the prac-
tice of military exercifes, unlefs government takes
proper pains to fupport it, goes gradually to de-
cay, and, together with it, the martial fpirit of
the great body of the people, the example of mo-
dern Europe fufBciently demonftrates. But the
fecurity of every foeiety muft always depend, more
or lefs, upon the martial fpirit of the great body
of the people. In the prefent times, indeed, that
martial fpirit alone, and unfupported by a wel!-
difciplined {landing army, would not, perhaps, be
fufiicient for the defence and fecurity of any fo-
ciety. But where every citizen had the fpirit of
a foldier, a fmaller {landing army would furely be
requifite. That fpirit, befides, would neceflarily
dirninifli very much the dangers to liberty, whe-
ther real or imaginary, which are commonly ap-
prehended from a {landing army. As it would
very much facilitate the operations of that army
againft a foreign invader, fo it would obftrucl:
them as much if unfortunately they mould ever
he directed againft the conflitution of the (late.

The

250 EDUCATION*.

The ancient inftitutions of Greece and Roms
ieem to have been much more effectual for main-
taining the martial fpirit of the great body of the
people than the eftablimment of what are called
the militias of modern times. They were much
more fimple. When they were once eftabliihed,
they executed themfelves, and it required, little or
no attention from government to maintain them
in the moft perfect vigour. Whereas to main-
tain even in tolerable execution the complex re-
gulations of any modern militia, requires the con-
tinual and painful attention of government ; with-
out which they are conftantly falling into total
neglect and difufe.- The influence, befides, of
the ancient inftitutions was much more univerfal.
By means of them the whole body of the people
was completely inftructed in the ufe of arms :
whereas it is but a very fmall part of them who
can ever be fo initructed by the regulations of any
modern militia ; except, perhaps, that of Swit-
zerland. But a coward, a man incapable either
of defending or of revenging himfelf, evidently
wants one of the moft eflential parts of the cha-
racter of a man. He is as much mutilated and
deformed in his mind as another is in his body,
who is either deprived of fome of its moft eflen-
tial members, or has loft the ufe of them. He is
evidently the more wretched and miferable of the
tw.oj becaufe happinefs and mifery,. which refide

alto-

EDUCATION-. 251

altogether in the mind, muft neceflarily depend
more upon the healthful or unhealthful, the muti-
lated or entire ftate of the mind, than upon that of
the body. Even though the martial fpirit of the
people were of no ufe towards the defence of the
fociety, yet to prevent that fort of mental muti-
lation, deformity, and wretchednefs, which cow-
ardice neceflarily involves in it, from fpreading
themfelves through the great body of the people,
would ftill deferve the moft ferious attention of
government ; in the fame manner as it would de-
ferve its moil ferious attention to prevent a le-
jrofy or any other loathfome and ofFenfive dif-
enfe, though neither mortal nor dangerous, from
fpreading itfelf among them ; though, perhaps,
no other public good might refult from fuch at-
tention befides the prevention of fo great a public
evil.

The fame thing may be faid of the grofs igno-
rance and ftupidity which, in a civilized fociety,
feem fo frequently to benumb the underftandings
of all the inferior ranks of people. A man, with-
out the proper ufe of the intellectual faculties of
a man, is, if poffible, more contemptible than
even a coward; and feems to be mutilated and de-
formed in a ftill more effential part of the cha-
racter of human nature. Though the ftate was
to derive no advantage from the inftruction of the
inferior ranks of people, it would ftill deferve its

at-

$5* D u c A T i o x.

attention tliat they fliould not be altogether un*
inftrucled. The flate, however, derives no in-
confiderable advantage from their inftruclion-.
The more they are inftru&ed, the lefs liable they
are to the dehifions of enthtifiafm and fuperfti-
tion; which, among ignorant nations, frequently
occafion the mofl dreadful diforders. An in-
ftrucled and intelligent people, befides, are always
more decent and orderly than an ignorant and
ftupid one. They feel themfelves, each indivi-
dually, more refpectable, and more likely to ob*
tain the refpect of their lawful Superiors; and
they are therefore more difpofed to refpecl: thofe
fuperiors. They are more difpofed to examine,
and more capable of feeing, through the interefted
complaints of faction and fedition$ and they are,
upon that account, lefs apt to be mifled into any
wanton or unnecefiary oppofition to the meafures
of government. In free countries, where the
fafety of government depends very much upon
the favourable judgment which the people may
form of its conduct, it muft furely be of the high-
eft importance that they mould not be difpofed to
judge rafhly or capricioufly concerning it.

A. SMITH.

3 THE

DECADENCE or EMPIRE.

THE CAUSES OF THE DECADENCY OF AN
EMPIRE.

THE -Jntrodu&icn and improvement of the
arts and fciences in an empire do not ocdafion its
decadency ; but the fame caufes that accelerate the
progrefs of the fciences, fometimes produce the
moft fatal effects. — There are nations where, by
a peculiar feries of circumftances, the feeds of
the arts and fciences do not fpring up till the
moment the manners begin to corrupt. -- A
certain number of men aflemble to form a fo-
ciety. Thefe men found a city : Their neigh-
bours fee it rife up with a jealous eye. The in-
habitants of that city, forced to be at once la-
bourers arid foldiers, make ufe by turns of the
'fpade and the fword. What in fuch a country is
the neceffary fcience and virtue ? The military
arts and valour, they alone are there refpecled.
Every other fcience and virtue are there unknown.
Such was the (late of rifmg Rome, when, weak
and furrounded by warlike nations, it with dif-
ficulty fuftained their attacks : Its glory and
power extended over the whole earth : it acquired,
however, the one and the other very flowly ;
ages of triumphs were necefiary to fubjeft their
neighbours. Now when the furrounding na-
tions were fubdued, there arofe from the form

VOL. I. Y f of

DECADENCY ot EMPIRE.

of their government civil wars, which were fu<?-
ceeded by thofe with foreigners; fo that it can-
not be imagined, while the citizens were enga-
ged in the different employments of magiftrates
and foldiers, and inceflantly agitated with ftrong
hopes and fears, they could enjoy the leifure and
tranquillity neceflary to the ftudy of the fciences.

In every country where thefe events fucceed

each other in a regular feries, the only period fa-
vourable to letters is unfortunately that when the
civil wars, the troubles and factions being extin-
guifhed, liberty is expiring, as in the time of Au-
guftus, under the ftrokes of defpotifm. Now
this period precedes but a fhort time the deca-
dency of an empire. The arts and fciences, how-
ever, then flourifli ; and that for two reafons.

The firft is the force of mens pafiions. In
the firft moments of flavery, their minds, (till
agitated by the remembrance of their loft liberty,
are like the fea after a tempeft. The citizen
ftill bums with a defire to render himfelf illuftri-
ous, but his fituation is altered. He cannot have
his buft placed by that of Timoleon, Pelopidas,
or Brutus : He cannot deliver his name do\vn
to pofterity as the deftroyer of tyrants, and the
avenger of liberty. His ftatue may however be
placed by thofe of Homer, Epicurus, or Archi-
medes. This he knows; and therefore if there
be but one fort of glory to which he can afpire,

if

DECADENCY OF EMPIRE.

if it be with the laurels of the mufes alone that
he can be crowned, it is in the career of the arts
and fciences he prepares to feck them; and it is
then that illuftrious men of every literary profef-

fion arife. The fecond of thefe caufes is the'

intereft fovereigns then have to encourage the pro-
grefs of the fciences. At the moment that dcf-
potifm is eftablifhed, what does the monarch de-
fire ? To infpire his fubjecls with the love of the
the arts and fciences. What does he fear ? That
they fhould reflect on their fetters, blufh on their
fervitude, and again turn their looks towards li-
berty. He would therefore, by employing their
minds, make them forget their bafe condition.
He confequently prefents them with new objects
of glory. As an hypocritical- fautcr of the arts
and fciences, he (hows the more regard to the
man of genius, the more he feels the want of his
eulogies. — The manners of a nation do not change
the moment defpotifm is effablilhed. The fpirit
of a people is free fome time after their hands
are tied. During thefe firft moments illuftrious
men (till preferve fome confideration. The ty-
rant therefore loads them with favours, that they
may load him with praifes j and men of great
talents are too often feduced to become the pa-
negyrifts of ufurpation and tyranny. What mo-
tives can induce them to it ? Sometimes mean-
Tiefs, and -frequently gratitude. It muft be con-
Y 2 fcflcd,

256 DECADENCY OF EMPIRE.

fefled, that every great revolution in an empire
iuppofes great talents in him by whom it is pro-
duced, or at leaft fome brilliant vice that aftonifn-
ment and gratitude metamorphofe into virtue. —
Such is, at the time of the eftablifhment cf de-
fpotifm, the productive caufe of great acconi-.
plimments in the arts and fciences. The firfl
moments pafl, 'if the fame country become bar-
ren in men of talent, it is becaufe the tyrant, be-
ing then well eftablimed on his throne, is no
longer in want of their amftance. So that the
reign of the arts and fciences in a ftate feldom

extends above a century or two. If in each

empire the fciences juft (hoot up and then wither,
it is becaufe the motives proper to produce men
of genius do not commonly exert themfelves
there more than once. It is at the higheft pe-
riod of grandeur that a nation commonly pro-
duces the fruits of the arts and fciences. While
three or four generations of illuftrious men pafs
away, the people change their manners, and fink,
into fervitude; their minds have loft their energy;
there is no ftrong paffion remaining to put them
in action ; the tyrant no longer excites the people
to the purfuit of any kind of glory ; it is not ta-
lents but bafenefs he now honours ; and genius,
if it fti.ll remain, lives and die,s unknown to its
9wn country : It is like the orange tree, that

flourishes,

DECADENCY OF EMPIRE. ["257

flouriflies, perfumes the air, and dies in a de^
fert.

Defpotifm, while it is gaining ground, fufFers
men to fay what they will, while they fuffer it to
do what it will : but once eftablifhed, it forbids
all talking, writing, and thinking. The minds
of men then fink into an apathy : all the inhabi-
tants become flaves, curfe the breads that gave
them milk, and under fuch a government every

new birth is an increafe of mifery. The pomp

of an eaflern empire can without doubt impofe
on the vulgar, who may eftimate the force of a
nation by the magnificence of its palaces. The
wife man judges differently; it is by that very
magnificence he eftimates its weaknefs* He fees
nothing more in that impofing pomp, in the
midft of which the tyrant fits enthroned, than
a fumptuous and mournful decoration of the
dead ; than the apparatus of a fumptuous funeral^
in the centre of which is a cold and lifelefs body^
a lump of •unanimated earth : in flicrl, a phantom
of power ready to difappear before the enemy by
whom it is defpifed. A great nation where def-
potic power is at lait eftablifhed, refembles an
oak that has been crowned by ages ; its majeflic
trunk and the largenefs of its branches ftiil de-
clare its priftine force and grandeur; it fcems
ftill to be the monarch of the woods : but its true
ftate is that of decadency ; its branches defpoiled
Y 3 of

258 DECADENCY OF EMPIRE.

of their leaves, and deftitute of the fpirit of life,
are half withered, and fome of them continually
broken off by the wind. Such is the ftate of a
nation fubdued by arbitrary power.

HELVETIOS.

THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.

THE conftitution of the EngKfh government,
ever fince the invafion of this ifland by the Saxons,
may boaft of this pre-eminence, that in no age
the will of the monarch was ever entirely abfolute
and uncontrouled: but in other refpefts, the ba-
lance of power has extremely fhifted among the
feveral orders of the ftate ; and this fabric has
experienced the fame mutability which has at-
tended all human inftitutions. The ancient

Saxons, like the other German nations, where
each individual was enured to arms, and where
the independence of men was fecured by a great
equality of pofleflions, feem to have admitted a
confiderable mixture of democracy into their form
of government, and to have been one of the freeft
nations of which there remains any account in
the records of hiftory. — After this tribe was
fettled in England, efpccially after the dillblution
of the fleptarchy, the great extent of the kingdom
produced a great inequality of property; and the
balance feems to have inclined to the fide of the

ari-

ENGLISH CONSTITUTION. 259

ariftocracy. — The Norman conqueft threw more
authority into the hands of the fovereign, which,
however, admitted of great controul ; though de-
rived lefs from the general forms of the conftitu-
tion, which were inaccurate and irregular, than
from the independent, power enjoyed by each
baron in his particular diftricl: or province.—
The eflablifhment of the great charter exalted
ftiil higher the ariftocracy, impofed regular
limits on royal power, and gradually, introduced"
fome mixture of democracy into the conftitution.
—But even during this period, from the acceflion
of Edward I. to the death of Richard III. the
condition of the Commons was nowife defirable ;
a kind of Polifh ariftocracy prevailed; and though
the kings were limited, the people were as yet
far from being free. — It required the authority
almoft abfolute of the fovereigns, which took
place in the fubfequent period, to pull down thefe
diforderly and licentious tyrants, who were equally
enemies to peace and to freedom, and to eftablifti
that regular execution of the laws, which, in a
following age, enabled the people to ere£t a re-
gular and equitable plan of liberty. In each of
thefe fucceflive alterations, the only rule of go-
vernment, which is intelligible, or carries any
authority with it, is the eftablifhed practice of
the age, and the maxims of adminiftration, which
are at that time prevalent and univerfally aflented

to.

ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.

to.— r-Thofe who, from a pretended refpeft to an-
tiquity, appeal at every turn to an original plan
of the constitution, only cover their turbulent
fpirit and their private ambition under the ap-
pearance of venerable forms 5 and whatever pe-
riod they pitch on for their model, they may ftill
be carried back to a more ancient period, where
they will find the meafures of power entirely dif-
ferent, and where every circumflance, by reafon
of the greater barbarity of the times, will appear
lefs worthy of imitation. — Above all, a civilized
nation, like the Englifh, who have happily efta-
blimed the moil perfect and mod accurate fyftem
of liberty that ever was found compatible with
government, ought to be cautious of appealing to
the practice of their anceftors, or regarding the
maxims of uncultivated ages as certain rules for
their prefent conduct. — An acquaintance with
the hiftory of the ancient periods of their govern-
ment is chiefly ufeful, by inftru&ing them to
cheriih their prefent conftitution from a com-
parifon or contraft with the condition of thofe
diftant times. — And it is alfo curious, by fhowing
them the remote, and commonly faint and disfi-
gured, originals of the moft finifhed and mofl
noble inftitutionSj and by inftrufting them in the
great mixture of accident, which commonly con-
curs with a fmall ingredient of wifdom and fore-
fight.

ENGLISH CONSTITUTION. 261:

fight, in creeling the complicated fabric of the
moft perfect government. HUME..

ABUSES IN THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.

THE Engiifh hiflory will inform us, that the
people of England have always borne extreme op-
preilion for a long time before there has appear-
ed any danger of a general infurredtion againft
the government. What a feries of encroachments
upon their rights did even the feudal barons,
whofe number was not very confiderable, and
whofe power was great, bear from William the
Conqueror, and his fucceflbrs, before they broke
out into actual rebellion on that account, as in-
the reigns of King John and Henry III. ! And
how much were the lowed orders of the poor
Commons trampled upon with impunity by both
till a much later period ; when, all the while,
they were fo far from attempting any refiflance,
or even complaining of the grofs infringement of
their rights, that they had not fo much as an
idea of their having any right to be trampled
upon ! After the people had begun to acquire
property, independence, and an idea of their
natural rights, how long did they bear a load of
old and new oppreflions under the Tudors, but
more efpecially under the Stuarts, before they
broke out into what the friends of arbitrary

power

262 ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.

power aiTecl: to call the grand rebellion! And
how great did that obftinate civil war fhow the
power of the King to be, notwithftanding the
moft intolerable abufe of it ! At the clofe of the
year 1642, it was more probable that the King
would have prevailed than the Parliament ; and
his fuccefs would have been certain, if his con-
duct had not been as weak as it was wicked. —
So great was the power of the crown, that after
the Refloration, Charles II. was tempted to aft
the fame part as his father, and actually did
it in a great meafure with impunity ; till at lafl
he was even able to reign without parliaments ;
and if he had lived much longer, he would, in
all probability, have been as arbitrary as the King
of France. His brother James II. had almoft
fubverted both the civil and religious liberties of
his country in the fhort fpace of four years ; and
might have done it completely, if he could have
been content to have proceeded with more cau-
tion: nay, he might have fucceeded notwith-
ftanding his precipitancy> if the Divine Being
had not, at that critical time, raifed William III.
of glorious memory, for our deiiverence.

EN-

ENNUI. 26%

ENNUI OR THE WEARISOMENESS OF
INACTION.

THE ennui, or the wearifomenefs of inaftion,
is a more general and powerful fpring of action
than is imagined. Of all pains this is the Ifiaft ;
but neverthelefs it is one. The defire of happi*-
nefs makes us always confider the abfence of plea-
fure as an evil. We would have the neceflary
intervals that feparate the lively pleafures always
connected with the gratification of our natural
wants, filled up with fome of thofe fenfations
that are always agreeable when they are not
painful : we therefore conftandy defire new im-
preffions, in order to put us in mind every in-
ftant of our exiftence ; becaufe every one of thefe
informations affords us pleafure. Thus the Sa-
vage, as foon as he has fatisfied his wants, runs
to the banks of a river, where the rapid fucceflion
of the waves that drive each other forward make
every moment new impreflions upon him : for
this reafon, we prefer objects in motion to thofe
at reft : and we proverbially fay, that fire makes
company ; that is, it helps to deliver us from the
wearifomenefs of inaction. Men fearch with the
greateft eagernefs for every thing capable of put-
ting them in motion ; it is this defire that makes
the common people run to an execution, and the

people

£64 ENNUI.

people of fafliion to a play; and it is the fani<?
motive in a gloomy devotion, and even in the
auftere exercifes of penance, that frequently af-
fords old women a remedy againft the tirefome-
nefs of inaction: for God, who by all poffible
means endeavours to bring fmners to himfelf,
commonly ufes with refpe£t to them that of the
\vearifomenefs of inaction*,

A man of literature had for his neighbour one
of thofe indolent people who are the peft of fo-
ciety; who being tired of himfelf, went one day
to pay a vifit to the man of letters; who received
him in a very agreeable manner, and with great
politenefs continued tired of him, till being weary
of flaying any longer in the fame place, the
idler took his leave, in order to plague fome-
body elfe. He was no fooner gone, than the man
of learning returned to his ftudies and forgot his
Vexation. Some days after he was accufed of not
having returned the vifit he had received, and
taxed with want of politenefs; upon which he, iii
his turn, went to fee the idler : " Sir, (faid he),
" I am informed that you complain of me : how-
" ever, you know that it was being weary of
« yourfelf that brought you to me. I, who tired
" nobody, received you as well as I could ; it is
" then you .who are obliged, and I who am taxed
u with unpolitenefs. Be yourfelf the judge of
*« my proceedings, and fee whether you ought
2 « not

ENNUI. 26*5

"not to put an end to complaints that prove no-
" thing, but that I have not, like you, occafion
** for vifits ; and have neither the inhumanity to
(( plague my neighbour, nor the mjuftice to de-
(( fame him after I have tired out his patience."

HELVETIUS.

ENTHUSIASM.

IMMEDIATE revelation being a much eafier
way for men to eftablifh their opinions and regu-
late their conduct than the tedious and not always
fuccefsful labour of ftricl reafoning ; it is no
wonder that fome have been very apt to pretend
to revelation, and to perfuade therrifelvcs, that
they are under the peculiar guidance of heaven
in their actions and opinions, efpecially in thofe
of them which they cannot account for by the
ordinary methods of knowledge and principles of
reafon. Hence we fee, that in all ages, men in
whom melancholy has mixed with devotion, or
whofe conceit of thcmfelves has raifed them into
an opinion of a greater familiarity with God, and
a nearer admittance to his favour, than is afforded
to others, have often flattered themfelves with a
perfuafion of an immediate intercourfe with the
Deity, and frequent communications from the
Divine Spirit. God, I own, cannot be denied to
be able to enlighten the underftandiug by a ray
VOL. I. Z f dart-

266- ENTHUSIASM,

darted into the mind immediately from the foun-
tain of light. This they underftand he has pro-
mifed to do ; and who then has fo good a this
to expe£t it as thofe who are his peculiar people,
chofen by him, and depending on him ?

Their minds being thus prepared, whatever
groundlefs opinion comes to fettle itfelf ftrongly
upon their fancies, is an illumination from the
Spirit of God, and prefently of Divine authority ;
and whatfoever odd action they find in them-
felves a ftrong inclination to do, that impulfe i$
concluded to be a call or direction from heaven,
and muft be obeyed •, it is a commiflion from
above, and they cannot err in executing it.

This I take to be properly enthufiafm ; which,
though founded neither on reafon nor divine reve-
lation, but rifmg from the conceits of a warmed
or overweening brain, works yet, where it once
gets footing, more powerfully on the perfuafions
and actions of men, than either of thofe two or
both together : men being mod; forwardly obedi-
ent to the impulfes they receive from themfelves ;
and the whole man is fure to act more vigorously,
\vhere the whole man is carried by a natural
on. For ftrong conceit, like a new principle,
carries all eafily with it wljen got above common
fenfc ; and freed from all feftraint of reafon and
4 neck of reflection, it is heightened into a divine

au-

EQJUALJTY. 267

authority in concurrence with our own temper
and inclination. LOCKE.

EQJJALITY.

IT is one of the moft important objects of go-
vernment, to prevent an extreme inequality of for-
tunes j not by taking away the wealth of the
pofieffbrs, but in depriving them of means to
accumulate them j not by building hofpitals for
the poor, but by preventing the citizens from
becoming poor. The unequal diflribution of the
inhabitants of a country ; fome being thinly fcat-
tered over a large tract of land, while others are
aflembled together in crowds in cities ; the en-
couragement of the agreeable inftead of the uis-
ful arts ; the facrifice of agriculture to commerce;
the mal-adrniniflration of the finances j and in
fliort, that excefs of venality which fets public
efteem at a pecuniary value, and rates even virtue
at a market-price : Thefe are all the moft obvious
caufes of opulence and of poverty; of the public
intereft ; the mutual hatred of the citizens; their
indifference for the common caufe ; the corruption
of the people ; and the weakening of all the fprings
of government.

ROUSSEIU.

Z2

268 EQUALITY.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

The term Equality does not mean, that indivi-
duals mould all abfoiutely pofleis the fame degree
of wealth and power ; but only, that with refpecl
to the latter, it fhould never be exercifed con-
trary to good order and the laws; and with refpecl:
to the former, that no one citizen fhould be rich
enough to buy another, and that none fhould be
fo poor as to be obliged to fell himfelf. — This
fuppofes a moderation of pofiefiions and credit
on the fide of the great, and a moderation of
tkfires and covetoufnefs on the part of the little.
— Would you give a ftate confiftency and ftrength,
prevent the two extremes as much as pofiible ; let
e be no rich perfons, nor beggars. Thefe two
conditions, naturally infeparable, are equally de>-
ftru£iive to the commonwealth : the one fur-
niflies tyrants, and the other the fupporters of
tyranny. It is by thefe the traffic of public liberty
is carried on ; the one buying, the other felling it.
—This equality, they tell us, is a mere fpecula-
tive chimera, which cannot exift in practice.
But though abufes are inevitable, does it thence
follow they are not to be corrected ? It is for the
very reafon that things always tend to deftroy
this equality, that the laws fhould be calculated
to preferve it. Rou s SE A,U.

ON

EQJJALITY. 269

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

A TOo great difproportion of wealth among citi-
zens weakens any flate. Every perfon, if poflible,
ought to enjoy the fruits of his labour, in a full
pofleffion of all the necefiaries^ and many of the
conveniences of life. No one can doubt but fuch
an equality is mofl fuitable to human nature, and
diminifhes much lefs from die happinefs of the
rich than it adds to that of the poor. It alfq
augments the power of the (late, and makes any-
extraordinary taxes or impofitions be paid with
more cheerfulnefs. Where the riches are engrof-
fed by a few, thefe mult contribute very largely
to fupplying the public neceffities : But when die
riches are difperfed among multitudes, the burden.
feels light on every fhculder j and the taxes make
not a fenfible difference on any one's way of li-
ving. — Add to this, that where the riches are in
few hands, thefe rnufi enjoy all the power ; and
will readily confpire to lay all the burthen on the
poor, and opprefs them Mil! farther, to the dif-
couragement of all induftry.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

ALL anima's are equal ; but man is a Have to

man almofl every where throughout the earth. If

Z 3 man

270 EQUALITY.

man had met every where v/ith an eafy, certain,
and fafe fubfiftence, and a climate fuitable to his
nature,, it is maiiifeflly impofTible that one man
could have enflaved another. When this earth
fliall every where produce falubrious fruits ; when
the air, which fhould contribute to our life, fhall
not bring us ficknefles and death ; when man
fhall fland in need of no other lodging and bed
than that of the deer and roe-buck ; then the Ta-
merlanes of the earth will have no other domeftics
than their children, in this fo natural ftate,
which all quadrupeds, birds, and reptiles enjoy..
Man would be as happy as they : Dominion
would then be a chimera, an abfurdity which no
one cculd think of j for who would make a
buftle to get fervants without, any want of their
fervice ? Should any individual, of a tyrannical
difpofition and extraordinary ftrength, take it
into his head to make a flave of his weaker neigh-
bour, the thing would be impracticable ; the
paity opprefled would be an hundred leagues out
of the oppreflbr's reach before he had taken his
meafures. — Thus a freedom from wants would
iieceflarily make all men equal. It is the diftrefs
annexed to our fpecies which fubje&s one man to
another. Not that inequality is a real misfortune*;.
the grievance lies in dependence. — A numerous
family has fuccefsfully cultivated a good foil,
•\vhilft two fmall neighbouring families cannot

EQUALITY. 27?

bring tlie ftubborn grounds to produce any tiling :
the two poor families muft either become fervants
to the opulent family, or extirpate it. This is
felf-evident : one of the two indigent families, for
a fubfiilence, goes and offers its labour to the
rich ; the other goes to difpofFefs it by force c£
of arms, and is beaten. The former is the ori-
gin of domeflics and labourers ; and from the lat-
ter flavery is derived. — In our calamitous globe^
it is impoflible that men, living together in fociety,
mould not be divided into two clafies ; one the
rich, who command ; the other the poor, who
ferve or obey. This divifion originates from
nature. The unequal abilities, induftry, ambi-
tion, and avarice, which are every where found
in mankind, produce it. — All the opprefied are not
abfolutely unhappy. Mofl of them being born in a
fervile flate, continual labour and a habit of de-
pendence preferve them from too fenfible feeling
of their fituation : but whenever they feel it, wars
are the confequence ; as at Rome between the
Plebeian and Patrician parties ; and thofe of
the peafants in Germany. All thefe wars termi-
nate, foon or late, in the fubjedion of the
people ; becaufe the great have riches, and riches
do every thing within a flate : I fay, within a
ftate ; for between nation and nation it is other-
wife. A nation which handles iron heft, will
ever be too ftrong fcr tnat which, with its abun-
dance

272 EQJJALITY.

dance of gold, is deficient in fkill and courage :
the Mexicans and Peruvians are flriking inftances
.of this truth. — Every man is born with no fmall
propenfity to power, riches, and pleafure, and
has naturally a delight in indolence ; confequently
every man is for having the riches, wives, or
daughters of others ; would fubjecl: all to his
humours, and do no work, or at leaft what only
pleafed himfelf.

Mankind, in the prefent ft ate, cannot fubfift,
linlefs an infinity of ufeful men have the misfor-
tune of being without any pofleflion whatever ;
for no man in eafy circumllances will plough
the ground. Thus equality is, at the fame time,
both the moft natural and the moft chimerical
thing in the world.

Every man has a right to believe himfelf natu-
rally equal to other men ; the animal functions
are alike in both. But it does not from hence
follow, that a man is exculed in neglecting the
duty of his ftation : were it fo, there would be
an end of human fociety.

VOLTAIRE.

ESTABLISHMENTS FOR THE RELIGIOUS
INSTRUCTION OF THE PEOPLE*

. THE institutions for the inftruftionof the people
of all ages are chiefly thofe for religious inftruc-

tion.

RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 273

tlon. This is a fpecies of inftru£Uon of which
the object: is not fo much to render the people
good citizens in this world, as to prepare them
for another and a better world in a life to come.
The teachers of the do£trine which contains this
inftruction, in the fame manner as other teachers,
may either depend altogether for their fubfiftence
upon the voluntary contributions of their hearers;
or they may derive it from fome other fund to
which the law of their country may intitle them ;
fuch as a landed eftate, a tythe or land-tax, an
eflablifhed falary or ftipend. Their exertion,
their zeal and induftry, are likely to be much
greater in the former fituation than in the latter.
In this refpecl: the teachers of new religions have
always had a confiderable advantage in attacking
thofe ancient and eftabliflied fyftems of which the
clergy, repofing themfelves upon their benefices,
had neglected to keep up the fervour of faith
and devotion in the great body of the people ;
and having given themfelves up to indolence,
were become altogether incapable of making any
vigorous exertion in defence even of their own
eflablilhment. The clergy of an eflablifhed and
well-endowed religion frequently become men of
learning and elegance,, who poflefs all the virtues
of gentlemen, or which can recommend them
to the efteem of gentlemen; but they are apt
gradually to lofc the qualities, both good and

bad,

274 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.

bad, which gave them authority and influence
with the inferior ranks of people, and which had
perhaps been the original caufes of the fuccefs
and eftablifhment of their religion. Such a clergy,
•when attacked by a fet of popular and bold,
though perhaps ftupid and ignorant enthufiafts,
feel themfelves as perfectly de'fencelefs as the in-
dolent, effeminate, and full-fed nations of the
fouthern parts of Afia, v/hen they were invaded
by the active, hardy, and hungry Tartars of the
north. Such a clergy, upon fuch an emergency,
have commonly no other refource than to call up-
on the civil magiflrate to perfecute, deflroy, or
drive out their adverfaries, as difturbers of the
public peace. It was thus that the Roman Ca-
tholic clergy called upon the civil magiflrate to
perfecute the Proteftants; and the church of Eng-
land, to perfecute the DifTenters; and that, in
general, every religious feet, when it has once
enjoyed for a century or two the fecurity of a
legal eftablifhment, has found itfelf incapable of
making any vigorous defence againft any new
feel which chofe to attack its doctrine or difci-
pline. Upon fuch occafions, the advantage in
point of learning and good writing may fome-
times be on the fide of the eftablifhed church:
But the arts of popularity, all the arts of gain-
ing profelytes, are conftantly on the fide of its
adverfaries. In England, thofe arts have been

long

RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.

long neglected by the well-endowed clergy of
the eftabliflied church, and are at prefent chiefly
cultivated by the Diflenters and by the Methodifts.
The independent provifions, however, which
in many places have been made for diflenting
teachers, by means of voluntary fubfcriptions, of
truft-rights, and other evafions of the law, feem
very much to have abated the zeal and activity
of thofe teachers. They have many of them
become very learned, ingenious, and refpe&able
men j but they have in general ceafed to be very
popular preachers. The Methodifts, without half
the learning of the Diflenters, are much more in
vogue.

In the church of Rome, the induftry and zeal
of the inferior clergy is kept more alive by the
powerful motive of felf-interft, than perhaps in
any eftablifhed Proteftant church. The parochial
clergy derive, many of them, a very confiderable
part of their fubfiftence from the voluntary obla-
tions of the people ; a fource of revenue which
confeffion gives them many opportunities of im-
proving. The mendicant orders derive their
whole fubfiftance from fuch oblations. It is with
them, as with the buffers and light infantry of
fome armies ; no plunder, no pay. The parochial
clergy are like thofe teachers whofe reward de*
pends partly upon their falary, and partly upon
the fees or honoraries which they get from theif

pupils ;

276 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.

pupils; and thefe muft always depend more or
lefs upon their induftry and reputation. The
mendicant orders are like thofe teachers whofe
fubfiftence depends altogether upon their induftry.
They are obliged, therefore, to ufe every art
which can animate the devotion of the common
people. The eftablifhment of the two great men-
dicant orders of St. Dominick and St. Francis, it is
obfervedby Machiavel, revived, in the thirteenth
and fourteenth conturies, the languifhing faith
and devotion of the Catholic church. In Roman
Catholic countries, the fpirit of devotion is fup-
ported altogether by the monks and by the poorer
parochial clergy. The great dignitaries of the
church, with, all the accomplifhments of gentle-
men and men of the world, and fometimes with
thofe of men of learning, are careful enough to
maintain the neceflary difcipline over their infe-
riors, but feldom give themfelves any trouble
about the inftruftion of the people.

" MOST of the arts and profeffions in a ftate,"
fays by far the moft illuftrious philofopher and
hiftorian of the prefent age (David Hume), " are
of fuch a nature, that while they promote the
iatereft of the fociety, they are alfo ufeful or
agreeable to fome individuals ; and in that cafe
the conftant rule of the magiftrate, except perhaps
on the firft introduction of any art, is to leave
the profeflion to itfelf, and truft its encourage-
ment to the individuals who reap the benefit of it.
* —The

RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENT'S.

—The artifans, finding their profits to rife by the
favour of their cuflomers, increafe as much as
poflible their (kill and induftry ; and as matters
are not difturbed by any injudicious tampering,
the commodity is always fure at all times to be
exactly proportioned to the demand. — But there
are alfo fome callings which, though ufeful and
even neceflary in a ftate, bring no advantage or
pleafure to any individual ; and the fupreme
power is obliged to alter its conduct with regard
to the retainers of thofe profeflions. — It mu.fl give
them public encouragement in order to their fub-
fiftence ; and it muft provide againft that negli-
gence to which they will naturally be fubje£r,
either by annexing particular honours to the pro
feflion, by eftabliihing a long fubordination of
ranks and a ftrict dependence, or by fome other
expedient. — The perfcns employed in the finan-
ces, armies, fleets, and magiftracy, are inftances
of this order of men. — It may naturally be thought
at firft view, that the ecclefiaftics belong to the
firft clafs; and that their encouragement, as well
as that of lawyers and phyficians, may fafely b?
trufted to the liberality of individuals who are
attached to their doclriny, and who find benefit
or confolation from their fniritual miniftry and
afiiftance. — Their induftry and vigilance will no
doubt be whetted by fuch an additional motive;
and their fkill in the profeflion, as well as their
VOL. I. A a | addrefs

278 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.

addrefs^ in governing the minds of the people,
mufl receive daily increafe from their increafing
practice, ftudy, and attention. — But if we con-
fider the matter more clofely, we fhall find that
this interefted diligence of the clergy is what
every wife legiflature will ftudy to prevent ; be-
caufe in every religion except the true, it is highly
pernicious, and has even a natural tendency to
pervert the true, by infufing into it a flrong mix-
ture of fuperftition, folly, and delufion. — Each
ghoftly practitioner, in order to render himfelf
more precious and facred in the eyes of his re-
tainers, muft infpire them with the moft violent
abhorrence againft all other fe£ts, and continually
endeavour by fome novelty to excite the languid
devotion of his audience. — No regard will be paid
to truth, morals, or decency, in the doctrines in-
culcated.— Every tenet will be adopted -that beft
iuits the diforderly affections of the human frame.
— Cuftomers will be drawn to each conventicle
by new induilry and addrefs in practifmg on the
paifions and credulity of the populace. — And
in the end, the civil magiftrate will find that he
has paid dearly for his pretended frugality in
faving a fettled foundation for the priefts ; and
that in reality the moft decent and advantageous
compofition which he can make with the fpiritual
guides, is to bribe their indolence, by affixing
itated fabrics to their profeflion, and rendering

it

RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 2~$

it fuperfluous for them to be further acHve than
merely to preferve their flock from ftraying in
queft of new paftures. — And in this manner ec-
clefiaftical eftablifhments, though commonly they
arofe at firft from religious views, prove in the
end advantageous to the political interefts of fo-
ciety."

But whatever may have been the good or bad
effects of the independent provifion of the clergy,
it has, perhaps, been very feldom beftowed upon
them from any view to thofe effects. Times of
violent religious controverfy have generally been
times of equally violent political faction. Upou
fuch occafions, each political party has either
found it, or imagined it, for its intereft, to league
itfelf with fome one or other of the contending
religious fects. But this could be done only by-
adopting, or at leaft by favouring, the tenets of
that particular feel:. The feet which had the
good fortune to be leagued with the conquering
party, neceflarily fhared in the victory of its ally,
by whofe favour and protection it was foon en-
abled in fome degree to filence and fubdue all
its adverfaries. Thofe adverfaries had generally
leagued themfelves with the enemies of the con-
quering party, and were therefore the enemies of
that party. The clergy of this- particular feel:
having thus become complete mafters of the
field, and their influence and authority with the
A a 2. great.

280 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.

great body of the people being in its higheft vi-
gour, they were powerful enough to over-awe
the chiefs and leaders of their own party, and to
oblige the civil magiftrate to refpeft their opi-
nions and inclinations. Their firft demand was
generally, that he fhould filence and fubdue all
their adverfaries; and their fecond, that he fhould
beftow an independent provision on themfelves..
As they had generally contributed a good deal
to the victory, it feemed not unreafonable that
they fhould have fome fhare in the fpoil. They
were weary, befides, of humouring the people,
and of depending upon their caprice for a fuh-
fifience. In making this demand therefore they
confulted their own eafe and comfort, without
troubling themfelves about the effect which it
might have in future times upon the iniluence and
authority of their order. The civil magiftrate, who
could comply with this demand only by giving
them fomething which he would have chofen
much rather to take, or to keep to himfelf, was
feldom very forward to grant it. Neceffity, how-
ever, always forced him to fubmit at laft, though
frequently not till after many delays, evafions, and
affected excufes.

But if politics had never called in the aid of re-
ligion, had the conquering party never adopted,
the tenets of one feel more than thofe of another,
when it had gained die vi&ory, it would proba-

Mv

RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 2Ct

bly have dealt equally and impartially with all the
different feels, and have allowed every man to
choofe his own prieft and his own religion as he
thought proper. There would in this cafe, no
doubt, have been a great multitude of religious
feels, Almoft every different congregation might
prcbably have made a little feet by itfelf, or have
entertained fome peculiar tenets of its own. Each
teacher would no doubt have felt himfelf under
the neceflity of making the utmoft exertion, and
of ufing every art both to preferve and to increafe
the number of his difciples. But- as every other
teacher would have felt himfelf under the fame
neceflity, the fuccefs of no one teacher, or feel: of
teachers, could have been very great. The inte-
refted and aclive zeal of religious teachers can be
dangerous and troublefome only where there is
either but one feel tolerated in the fociety, or
where the whole of a large fociety is -divided into
t\vc or three great feels j. the teachers of each
acling by concert, and under a regular difcipline
and fubordination. But that zeal muft be altoge-
ther innocent where the fociety is divided into
two or three hundred, or perhaps into as many
thouiand, fmall feels, of which no one could be
confiderable enough to difturb the public tran-
quillity. The teachers of each feel, feeing them-
felves furrounded on all fides with more adver-
faries than friends, would be obliged to learn th^t
A a -- candou

r

282 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.

candour and moderation which is fo feldom to be
found among the teachers of thofe great fe&s,
v/hofe tenets being fupported by the civil magi-
ftrate, are held in veneration by almoft all the in-
habitants of extenfive kingdoms and empires, and
who therefore fee nothing round them but follow-
ers, difciples, and humble admirers. The teach-
ers of each little fe£t, finding themfelves almoft
alone, would be obliged to refpect thofe of almoft
every other feel: ; and the conceflions which they
would mutually find it both convenient and agree-
• able to make to one another, might in time pro-
bably reduce the doctrine of the greater part of
them to that pure and rational religion, free from
every mixture of abfurdity, impofture, or fanati-
cifm, fuch as wife men have in al] ages of the
•world wifhed to fee eftablifhed ; but fuch as pofi-
tive lav/ has perhaps never yet eftabliflied, and
probably never will eftablifh, in any country : be-
caufe, with regard to religion, pofitive law al-
ways has been, and probably always will be, more
or lefs influenced by popular fuperftition and en-
thufiafm. This plan of ecclefiaftical government,
or more properly of no ecclefiaftical government,
•was what the feel: called Independents, a feet no
doubt of very wild enthufiafts, propofed to efta-
blifh in England towards the end of the civil war,
If it had been eftablifhed, though of a very un-
philofophical origin3 it would probably by this

time

RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 283

time have been productive of the mod philofo-
phical good temper and moderation with regard
to every fort of religious principle. It has been
eftablifhed in Penfylvania, where, though the
Quakers happen to be the moft numerous, the
law in reality favours no one feet more than an-
other ; and it is there faid to have been produc-
tive of this philofophical good temper and mode-
ration.

But though this equality of treatment fhould
not be productive of this good temper and mode-
ration in all, or even in the greater part of the
religious fedts of a particular country ; yet provi-
ded thofe feels were fufficiently numerous, and
each of them confequently too fmall to difturb
the public tranquillity, the exceffive zeal of each
for its particular tenets could not well be produc-
tive of any very hurtful effects, but, on the con-
trary, of feveral good ones : and if the govern-
ment was perfectly decided both to let them all
alone, and to oblige them all to let alone one an-
other, there is little danger that they would not
of their own accord fubdivide themfelves fail e-
nough, fo as foon to become fufficiently nume-
rous.

A. SMITH.

EVI-

ETIDENCE.

EVIDENCE,

EVERY one afks, what is truth or evidence?
The root of the word indicates the idea we ought
to annex to it. Evidence is derived from videre.
— What is an evident propofition ? It is a facl of
which all may convince themfelves by the tefti-
mony of their fenfes, and whofe exiftence they
may moreover verify every inftant. Sn.ch a?e
thefe two fails, two and tivo make four ; the
luhole is greater than a part. — If I pretend, f©r
example, that there is in the north fea a polypus
named Kraken, and that this polypus is as large
as a fmall ifland j this facl, though evident to
me, if I have feen and examined it with all the at-
tention necefiary to convince me of its reality-, is
not even probable to him who has not feen it; it
is more rational in him to doubt my veracity,
than to believe the exiftence of fo extraordinary
an animal. — But if, after travellers, I defcribe the
true form of the buildings at Pekin, this defcrip-
tion, evident to thofe who inhabit them, is only
more or lefs probable to others-, fo that the true
is not always evident, and the probable is often
true. But in what does evidence differ from
probability ? Evidence is a fact that is fubjecl: to
our fenfes, and whofe exiftence all men may
verify every inftant. As to probability, it is
on conjectures, on the teftimony of men,

and.

EVIDENCE. 285

%

and on a hundred proofs of the fame kind. Evi-
dence is a fingle point ; there are no degrees of
evidence. On the contrary, there are various
degrees of probability, according to the difference,
firft, of the people who aflert; fecondly, of the fact
aflerted. Five men tell me they have feen a bear
in the forefts of Poland: this fact not being con-
tradicted by any thing, is to me very probable.
But if not five only, but five hundred men, (hould
afiure me they met in the fame forefts ghofts,
fairies, demons, their united evidence would not
be to me at all probable; for in cafes of this na-
ture, it is more common to meet with five hundred
romancers, than to fee fuch prodigies.

HELVETIUS.

HISTORICAL EVIDENCE.

WERE mod hiftorical events traced up to their
caufes, we fliould find hiftorical evidence very
deficient. Mankind is made up of inconfiftencies;
and no man acts invariably up to his predomi-
nant character. Our beft conjectures, as to the
true fpring of actions, are very uncertain; the
actions themfelves is all we muft pretend to know
from hiftory. That Caefar was murdered by 24
confpirators, I doubt not ; but I very much doubt,
whether their love of liberty was the fole caufe.

CHESTERFIELD.
THE

E v i L.

THE ORIGIN OF EVIL.

MAN is an active and free being; he ac~b of
himfelf : none of his fpontaneous actions, there-
fore, enter into the general fyftem of Providence,
nor can be imputed to it. Providence doth not
contrive the evil, which is the confequence of
man's abufmg the liberty his Creator gave him :
it only doth not prevent it ; either becaufe the
evil, which fo impotent a being is capable of
doing, is beneath its notice; or becaufe it cannot
prevent it without laying a reftraint upon his
liberty, and caufing a great evil by debafing his
nature. Providence hath left man at liberty, not
that he (hould do evil, but good by choice, in
making a proper ufe of the faculties beftowed on
him : his powers, however, are at the fame time
fo limited and confined, that the abufe he makes
of his liberty, is not of importance enough to
difturb the general order of the univerfe. The
evil done by man falls on his own head, with-
out making any change in the fyftem of the
world, without hindering the human fpecies from
being preferved in fpite of themfelves. To com-
plain, therefore, that God doth not prevent man
from doing evil, is, in fail, to complain that he
hath given a fuperior excellence to human nature;
that he hath ennobled our actions, by annexing

to

EVIL. 287

to them the merit of virtue. What could Omni-
' potence itfclf 'do more in our favour ? Could it
have eftablifhed a contradiction in our nature,
or have allotted rewards for well-doing to a being
incapable of doing ill ? It is the abufe of our fa-
culties which makes us wicked and miferable.
Our cares, our anxieties, our griefs, are all owing
to ourfelves. Moral evil is inconteftably our
own work; and phyfical evil would in facT: be
nothing, did not our vices render us fenfible of
it. Is it not for our prefervation that nature
makes us fenfible of our wants ? Is not pain of
body an indication that the machine is out of
order, and a caution for us to provide a remedy ?
And as to death — do not the wicked render
both our lives and their own miferable ? Who is
there defirous of living here for ever ? Death is
a remedy for all the evils we inflicT: on ourfelves.
Nature will not let us fuffer perpetually. To
how few evils are men fubjecT: who live in pri-
meval fimplicity ! They hardly know any difeafe,
and are irritated by fcarcely any paflions: they
neither forefee death, nor fuffer by the apprehen-
fions of it : when it approaches, their miferies
render it defirable ; and it is to them no evil.

Inquire no longer, man ! who is the author of
evil : behold him in yourfelf. There exifls no
other evil in nature but what you do or fuffer ;
and you are equally the wthor of both. A ge-
neral

2§5 E T I L.

X

neral evil could exift only in diforder; but in the
fyftem of nature, there is an eftabliihed order
•which is never difturbed. Particular evil 'exifta
only in the fentiment of the fuffering being : and
this fentiment is not given to man by nature, but
is of his own acquisition. Pain and forrow have
but little hold of thofe who, unaccuftomed to
reflections, have neither forefight nor memory.
Take away our fatal improvements, take away our
errors and vices; take away, in fhort, every thing
that is the work of man j and all the reft is good.
JLet us be firft virtuous, and reft allured we mall
be happy fooner or later. "Let us not require
the prize before we have got the victory, nor de*
mand the price of our labour before the work is
finifhed. It is not in the lifts, fays Plutrach,
that the victors at our games are crowned, but
after the conqueft is over. The foul is imma-
terial, and will furvive the body •, and in that view
Providence is juftified. When delivered from
the delufions of fenfe, we (hall enjoy the contem-
plation of the Supreme Being, and thofe eternal
truths of which he is the fource ; when the beauty
of the natural order of things fhall ftrike all
the faculties of the foul, and when we fhall be
employed folely in comparing what we have really
•done with what we ought to have done.

ROUSSEAU,
2

OB-

EVIL.

OBSERTATIONS ON NATURAL AND MORAL
EVIL.

IT muft be allowed, that if a very limited in-
telligence, whom we fhall -fuppofe utterly unao
quainted wiu,i the univerfe, were allured that it
were the production of a very good, wife, and
powerful being, however finite, he would from
his conje&ures forrrj beforehand a different notion
of it from what we find it to be by experience ;
nor would he ever imagine, merely from thefe
attributes of the caufe, of which he is informed,
that the effect could be fo full of vice and mifery
and diforder as it appears in this life. Suppofe
now that this perfon were brought into the world,
ftill aflured that it was the workmanfhip of fueh
a fublime and benevolent Being, he might per-
haps be furprifed at the difappointment ; but
would never retract his former belief, if founded
on a very folid argument ; fince fuch a limited
intelligence muft be fenfible of his own blindaefs
and ignorance, and muft allow that there may be
many folutions of thofe phenomena which will
for ever efcape his comprehenfion. But fuppo-
fing, which is the real cafe with regard to man,
that this creature is not antecedently convinced of
a fupreme Intelligence, benevolent and powerful,
but is left to gather fuch a belief from the appear-

VOL. L B b f -, ances

V I L.

ances of things ; this entirely alters the cafe, nor
will- he ever find any reafon for fuch a concluficn.
He may be fully convinced of the narrow limits
of his underftanding ; but this will not help him
in forming an inference concerning the goodnefs
of fuperior powers, fmce he muft form that infe-
rence from what he knows, and not from what
lie is ignorant of. The more you exaggerate his
weaknefs and ignorance, the more • diffident you
render him, and give him the greater fufpicion
that fuch fubjefts are beyond the reach of his fa-
culties. You are therefore obliged to reafon with
him merely from the known phenomena, and to
drop every arbitrary fuppofition or conjecture.

Did I fliQw you a houfe or palace, where there
is not one apartment convenient or agreeable j
where the windows, doors, fires, paflages, (lairs,
and the whole ceconomy of the building, were
the fource of noife, confufion, fatigue, darknefs,
and the extremes of heat and cold; you would
certainly blame the contrivance, without any fur-
ther examination. The architect would in vain
difplay his fubtilty, and prove to you, that if this
door or that window were altered, greater ills
would enfue. "What he fays may be ftricUy true :
the alteration of one particular, while the other
parts of the building remain, may only augment
the inconveniences. But ftill you would aflert in
general, that if ths architect had Ikill and good

inten-

EVIL. 291

intentions, he might have formed fuch a plan o£
the whole, and might have aujufted the parts in
fuch a manner, as would have remedied all (•.•
moil of thefe inconveniences. His ignorance, &:
even your own ignorance, of fuch a }
never convince you of the impoflibility of it. If
you find many inconveniences and deformities in
the building, you will always, without entering
into any detail, condemn the architecT:.

Is the world confidered in general, and as it
appears to us in this life, different from wlr.it a
man, or fuch a limited being, would beforehand
expect from a very powerful, wife, and benevc-
lent Deity ? It muft be ilrange prejudice to ailert
the contrary. And from thence I conclude, that
however confiftent the world may be, allowing
certain fuppofitions and conjectures, with the idea
of fuch a Deity, it can never afford us an infe-
rence concerning his exiftence. The confidence
is not abfolutely denied, but only the inference.
Conjectures, efpecially where infinity is excluded
from the divine attributes, may perhaps be fufE-
cient to prove a confidence ; but can never be
foundations for any inference.

There feem to "bcf^ur circumftances on which
depend all the greateft part of the ills that moleft
fenfible creatures ; and it is not impoffible but all
thefe circumftances may be neceflary and una-
voidable. We know fo little beyond common
B b 2 life*

2p2 £ V I L.

life, or even of common life, that, with regard
Jo the ceconomy of an univerfe, there is no con-
jecture, however wild, which may not be juft ;
nor any one, however plaufible, which may not
be erroneous. All that belongs to human under-
(landing in this deep ignorance and obfcurity, is to
be fceptical, or at lead cautious j and not to ad-
mit of any hypothefis whatever, much left of any
which is fupported by no appearance of probabi-
lity. Now this I alien to be the cafe with re-
gard to all the circumflances on which it depends.
None of them appear to human reafon in the
leaft degree neceflary or unavoidable; nor can
we fuppofe them fuch without the utmoft licence
of imagination.

The^r/? circumftance which introduces evil is
that contrivance or ceconomy of the atiimal crea-
tion, by which pains a-s well as pleafures are em-
ployed to excite all creatures to adlion, and make
them vigilant in the great work of felf-prcferva-
tion. Now pleafure alone, in its various degrees,
feems to human underftanding fufficient for this
purpofe. All animals might be conftantly in a
ilate of enjoyment : but when urged by any of
the neceflities of nature, fuch as thirft, hunger,
wearinefs ; inftead of pain, they might feel a di-
minution of pleafure, by which they might be
prompted to feek that object which is neceflary to
their fubfiftence. Men purfue pleafure as ea-
gerly

E v i L* 293

• gevly as they avoid pain, at leaft might have been
fo conflituted. It feems therefore plainly poflible
to carry on the bufmefs of life without any pain.
Why then is any animal ever rendered fufceptible
of fuch a fenfation ? If any animals can be free
from it an hour, they might enjoy a perpetual
exemption from it ; and it required as particular
a contrivance of their organs to produce that feel-
ing, as to endow them with fight, hearing, or
any of the fenfes. Shall we conjecture that fuch
a contrivance was necefiary, without any appear-
ance of reafon ? and fliall we build on that con-
jeclure as on the moft certain truth ?

But a capacity of pain would not alone pro-
duce pain, were it not for the ficcr.d circurn-
ftance, viz. the conducting the world by general
laws ; and this feems no way neceflary to a very
perfe£l being. It is true, if every thing were
conducted by particular volitions, the- courfe of
nature would be perpetually broken, and no man
would employ his- reafon in the conduct: of life.
But might not other particular volitions remedy
this inconvenience ? In fhort, might not the De-
ity exterminate all ill, wherever it were to be
found j and produce all good, without any pre-
paration or long progrefs of caufes and effects ?

Befidcs, v/e muft confider, that, according to

the prefent ceconomy of the world, the courie of

nature, though fuppofed exactly regular, yet to

B b 3 uo

294 EVIL.

ns appears net To ; and niany events are uncer-
tain, and many difappoint our expectations.
Health and ficknefs, calm and tempcft, with an
infinite number of other accidents, whofe caufes
are unknown and variable, have a great influence
both on the fortunes of particular perfons, and
on the profperity of public focieties; and in-
deed all human life in a manner depends on fuch
accidents. A being, therefore, who knows the
fecret fprings of the univerfe, might eafily, by
particular volitions, turn all thefe accidents to
the good of mankind, and render the whole world
happy, without discovering himfelf in any opera-
'tion. Some fmall touches given to Caligula's
brain in his infancy might have converted him
into a Trajan ; one wave a little higher than the
reft, by burying Caefar and his fortune in the
ocean, might have reitored liberty to a confider-
able part of mankind. A few fuch events as
thefe, regularly and wifely conducted, would
change the face of the world ; and yet would no
more feem to difturb the courfe of nature, or
confound human conduct, than the prefent ceco-
nomy of things, where the caufes are fecret, and
variable, and compounded.

If every thing 'in the univerfe be conducted by
general laws, and if animals be fufceptible of
pain ; yet ill would be very rare, were it not for
the third circumftance which I propofed to men-
tion,

EVIL. 20$

tkm, viz, the great frugality with which all powers
and faculties are diftributed to every particular be-
ing. So well adjufted are the organs and capaci-
ties of all animals, and fo well fitted to their pre-
fervation, that, as far as hiftory or tradition
reaches$ there appears not to be any fmgle fpecies
which has yet been extinguifhed in the univerfe.
Every animal has the requifite endowments j but
the endowments are be (lowed with fo fcrupu-
lous an oeconomy, that any confiderable dimi-
nution muil entirely deftroy the creature. Where-
ever one power is increafed, there is a propor-
tional abatement in the others. Nature feems to
have formed an exacl calculation of the necefli-
ties of her creatures, and, like a rigid maflert
has afforded them little more powers or endow-
ments than what are ftri&ly fufficietit to fupply
thofe neceflities. An indulgent parent would
have beftowed a large ftock, in order to guard
againft accidents, and to fecure the happinefs and
welfare of the creature in the moft unfortunate
concurrence of circumftances. The Author of
nature is inconceivably powerful : his force is fup-
pofed great, if not altogether inexhauftible ; nor
is there any reafon, as far as we can judge, to
make Him obferve this ftrift frugality in His deal-
ings with His creatures.

In order to cure moft of the ills of life, I re-
quire not that man fliould have the wings of the

eagle,

2p<5 .EVIL.

eagle, the fwiftnefs of the flag, &c. I am con-
tented to take an increafe in one {ingle power or
faculty of the foul. Let him be endowed with
greater propenfity to induftry and labour; a more
vigorous fpring and activity of mind ; a more
conftant bent to bufmefs and application. Let
the whole fpecies poflefs naturally an equal dili-
gence with that which many individuals are able

.to attain by habit and reflection ; and the mo ft be-
neficial confequences, without any allay of ill, is

.the immediate and neceflary refult of this endow-
ment. Almoft all the moral as well as natural
evils of human life arife from idlenefs; and were
our fpecies, by the original coiiilitution of their
frame, exempt from this vice or infirmity, tire

.perfect cultivation of land, the improvement of
arts and manufactures, the exa£t execution of
every office and duty, immediately follow, and
men at once may fully reach that ilate of fociety,
which is fo imperfectly attained in the beft go-
vernment. But as induiiry is a power, and the
moft valuable of any, nature feems determined,
fuitably to her ufual maxims, to beflow it on men
with a fparing hand; and rather to punifh him
feverely for his deficiency in it, than to reward
him for his attainments. She has fo contrived his
frame, that nothing but the moft violent neceflity
can oblige him to labour; and fhe employs all his
other wants to overcome, at le-fi in part, the want

of

EVIL. 297

•f diligence, and to endow him with fome fhare
of a faculty, of which ftie has thought fit naturally
to bereave him.

The fourth circumflance, whence arifes the
mifery and ill of the univerfe, ic the inaccurate
workmanihip of all the fprings and principles of
the great machine of nature. It muft be acknow-
ledged, that there are few parts of the univerfe
which feem not to ferve fome purpofej and whofe
removal would not produce a vifible defecl: and
diforder in the whole. The parts hang all toge-
ther ; nor can one be touched without affe&ing
the reft, in a greater or lefs degree. But at the
fame time it muft be obferved, that none of thefe
parts or principles, however ufeful, are fo accu-
rately adjufted, as to keep precifely within thofe
bounds in which their utility confifts ; but they
are all of them apt, on every occafion, to run
into the one extreme or the other. There is no-
thing fo advantageous in the univerfe but what
frequently becomes pernicious by its excefs or
defect ; nor has nature guarded, with the requi-
fite accuracy, againfl all diforder and confufion.
The irregularity is never, perhaps, fo great as to
deftroy any fpecies ; but is often fufficient to in-
volve the individuals in ruin and mifery.

On the concurrence then of thefe four circum-
(lances, does all, or the greateft part of natural
evil depend. Were, all living creatures incapable

ef.

298 E v i L.

. of pain, or were the world adminiftered by parti-
cular volitions, evil could never have found accefs
into the univerfe : and were animals endowed with
a large flock of powers and faculties beyond what
flricl neceflity requires ; or were the feveral fprings
and principles of the univerfe fo accurately fra-
med as to preferve always the jufl temperament
and medium; there muft have been very little ill
. in comparifon of what we feel at prefent.

Here the Manichean fyftem occurs as a proper
hypothecs to folve the difficulty : and, no doubr,
in fome refpe£ts it is very fpecious, and has more
probability than the common hypothecs, by gi-
ving a plaufible account of the ftrange mixture of
good and ill which appears in life. But if we con-
fider, on the other hand, the perfect uniformity
and agreement of the parts of the univerfe, we
fhall not difcover in it any marks of the combat
of a malevolent with a benevolent being. There
is, indeed, an oppofition of pains and pleafures in
the feelings of fenfible creatures: but are not all
the operations of nature carried on by an oppofi-
tion of principles ; of hot and cold, moift and dry,
light and heavy ? The true conclufion is, that the
original fource of all things is entirely indifferent
to all thefe principles; and has no more regard to
good above ill, than to heat above cold, or to
drought above moifture, or to light above heavy.

There may /^r hypothecs be framed concern-

ing

EVIL. 299

hig the firft caufes of the univerfe: T'aat they are
endowed with perfect goodnefs ; that they have
perfect malice ; that they are oppofite, and have
both goodnefs and malice; that they have neither
goodnefs nor malice. Mixt phenomena can ne-
ver prove the two former unmixt principles. And
the uniformity and fteadinefs of general laws feem
to oppofe the third. The fourth, therefore, feems
by far the moft probable.

Allowing, what never will be believed, at leaft
what never poflibly can be proved, that animal,
or at lead human happinefs, in this life exceed?
its mifery, is to do nothing : for this is not by any
means what we expect from Infinite Power, In-'
finite Wifdom, and Infinite Goodnefs. Why is
there any mifery at all in the world ? Not by
chance furely. From fome caufe then. Is it from
the intention of the Deity ? But he is perfectly
benevolent. Is it contrary to his intention ? But
he is Almighty. Nothing can fhake this reafon-
ing; fo (hort, fo clear, fo decifive: except we af-
fert, that thefe fubjects exceed all human capa-
city, and that our common meafures of truth and
falfehood are not applicable to them.

What is here faid of natural evil will apply td
moral with little or no variation; and we have no
more reafon to infer, that the rectitude of the
Supreme Being refembles human rectitude, than
that his benevolence refembles the human. Nay,

it

EVIL.

it will be thought, that we have ftill greater caufc
to exclude from him moral fentiments, fuch as
we feel them ; fmce moral evil, in the opinion of
many, is much more predominant above moral
good, than natural evil above natural good. But
even though this mould not be allowed ; and
though the virtue, which is in mankind, mould
be acknowledged much fuperior to the vice ; yet
fo long as there is any vice at all in the univerfe,
it will be very difficult to account for it. We
muft affign a caufe for it, without having recourfe
to the firft caufe. But every effect mufl have a.
caufe, and that caufe another: you mufl either
carry on the progreffion in infinitum, or reft oil
that original principle who is the ultimate caufe
of all things. HUME.

'

CAUSES AND EFFECTS DISCOVERABLE, NOT
BY REASON, BUT BY EXPERIENCE.

THE knowledge of caufes and effects is not
in any inftance attained by reafonings a priori;
but arifes entirely from experience, when we
find that any particular objects are constantly
conjoined with each other. Adam, though his
rational faculties be fuppofed, at the very firft,
entirely perfect, could not have inferred from
the fluidity and tranfparency of water, that it
would fuffbcate him, .or from the light and
2 \varmih

EXPERIENCE, 301

\v arm tli of fire that it would confume him. No
object ever difcovers, by the qualities which ap-
pear to the fenfes, either the caufes which pro-
duced it, or the effects which will arife from it ;
nor can our reafon, unafiifted by experience, ever
draw any inferences concerning real exiflence and
matter of fad. Prefent two fmooth pieces of
marble to a man who has no tincture of natural
philofophy '. he 'will never difcover, that they
will adhere together in fuch a manner as to re-
quire great force to feparate them in a direft line,
while they make fo fmall a refiftance to a lateral
preffure. No man imagines that the explofion of
gunpowder, or the attraction of the loadftone, could
ever be difcovered by arguments a priori. Who
will aflert, that he can give the ultimate reafons
why milk or bread is proper nourishment for a
man, not for a lion or a tyger ? — Were any ob-
ject prefented to us, and \vere we required to
pronounce concerning the effect: which will re-
fult from it, without confulting pad obfervation,
after what manner muft the mind proceed in
this operation ? It muft invent or imagine fome
event, which it afcribes to the object as its
effect j and it is plain that this invention muft be
arbitrary. The mind can never pofiibly find the
effect in the fuppofed caufe by the moft accurate
fcrutiny and examination : For the effect is to-
tally different from the caufe; and confequently
VOL. I. G c f can

302 EXPERIENCE.

can never be difcovered in it. A ftone raifed in-
to the air, and left without any fupport, immedi-
ately falls ; but to confider the matter a priori, is
there any thing we difcovcr in thrs fituation which
can beget the idea of a downward, rather than
an upward, or any other motion, in the ftone?
— In a word, then, every effect is a diftinct event
from its caufe. It could not, therefore, be difco-
vered in the caufe; and the firft invention or con-
ception of it a priori muft be entirely arbitrary.
And even after it is fuggefted, the conjunction
of it with the caufe muft appear equally arbitrary;
fmce there are always many other effects which,
to reafon, muft feem fully as confiftent and na-
tural. In vain, therefore, fhould we pretend to
determine any fmgle event, or infer any caufe or
effect, without the affiftance of obfervation and
experience. The utmoft effect of human reafon
is, to reduce the principles productive of natural
phenomena to a greater fimplicity, and to refolve
the many particular effects into a few general
caufes, by means of reafoning from analogy,
experience, and obfervation. But the caufes of
thefe general caufes, the ultimate fprings and
principles of nature, are totally fhut up from hu-
man curiofity and inquiry.

HUME.

THE

EXPERIENCE. 303

THE FOUNDATION OF ALL CONCLUSIONS
FROM EXPERIENCE.

NATURE has kept us at a great diftance from
all her fecrets, and has afforded us only the know-
ledge of a few fuperficial qualities of objects;
•while {he conceals from us thofe powers and prin-
ciples on which the influence of thefe objects en-
tirely depends. Our fenfes inform us of the co-
lour, weight, and confidence of bread ; but nei-
ther fenfe nor reafon ever can inform us of thoft
qualities which fit it for the nourishment and fup-
port of a human body. Sight, or feeling, con-
veys an idea of the actual motion of bodies: but
as to that wonderful force or power, which would,
carry on a moving body for ever in a continued
change of place, and which bodies never lofe but
by communicating it to others; of this we cannot
form the moil diflant conception. But notwith-
ilanding this ignorance of natural powers and
principles, we always prefume, where we fee like
fenfible qualities, that they have like fecret powers,
and expect, that effects, fimilar to thofe which
we have experienced, will follow from them. If
a body of like colour and confidence with that of
bread, which v/e have formerly eat, be prefented
to us, we make no fcruple of repeating the expe-
liment; and forefee, with certainty, like nouriih-
C c 2 ment.

304 EXPERIENCE.

ment and fupport. But it is allowed on all hands,
that there is no known connexion between the
fenfible qualities and the fecret powers; and con-
fequently, that the mind is not led to form fuch
a conclusion concerning their conftant and regu-
lar conjunction, by any thing which it knows of
their nature. As to pail experience, it can be al-
lowed to give direEl and certain information only
of thofe precife objects, and that precife period of
time, which fell under its cognizance. The bread,
which I formerly eat, nourifhed me; that is, a
body of fuch fenfible qualities was at that time
endued with fuch fecret powers : But does it fol-
low, that other bread muft alfo nourifh me at an-
other time •, and that like fenfible qualities muft
always be attended with like fecret powers? The
confequence feems nowife necefiary. Thefe two
prcpofitions are far from being the fame, / have
found fuch an cbjeft has always been attended -with
fuch an efftft; and, / forefeey that other objefts,
uhich are in appearance Jimilar, will be attended
iL-ith Jimilar effefts. The one proposition is, in
fact, always inferred from the other: But this
inference is not made by a chain of reafoning. If
this conclufion were formed by reafon, it would
be as perfect at firft ; and upon one inftance, as
after ever fo long a courfe of experience. But the
cafe is far otherwife. Nothing is fo like as eggs;
yet no one, on account of this apparent fimila-

rity,

EXPERIENCE.

rlty, expects the fame tafte and relifti in all of
them. It is only after a long courfe of uniform
experiments in any kind that we attain a firm re-
fiance and fecurity with regard to a particular
event. This inference is not intuitive; neither is
it demonflrative. That there are no demonilrative
arguments in the cafe, feems evident; fince it im-
plies no contradiction, that the courfe of nature
may change, and that an object, feemingly like-
thofe we have experienced, may be attended with-
different and contrary effects. Is it not clearly
and diftinclly, to be conceived, that a body fall-
ing from the clouds* and which, in all other re-
fpecls refembles fnow, has yet the tafte of fait,
or feeling of fire ? Is there any more intelligible,
propofition, than to affirm, that all the trees will
flourifh in December and January, and decay in
May and June? Now, whatever is- intelligible,^
and can be diftin&ly conceived, implies no con-
tradiction, and can never be proved falfe by any
demonftrative arguments or abilract reafoning a
pric/ri.

If we be therefore engaged by arguments to put/
truft in paft experience, and make it the (land- -
ard of our future judgment, thefe arguments mufl-
be probable only, or fuch as regard matter of-
fact and real exiftence : but all arguments con-
cerning exiilence are founded on the relation of-
caufe and effect ; and our knowledge of that re~,
C c 3 la:'

EXPERIENCED

lation is derived entirely from experience •, and aft
our experimental conclufions proceed upon the
fuppofition, that the future will be conformable
to the paft. To endeavour, therefore, the proof
of this laft fuppofition by probable arguments, or
arguments regarding exiftence, is begging the que-
ilion.

All arguments or inference* from experience-
fuppofe, as their foundation, that the future will
referable the paft ; and that fimilar powers will
be conjoined with fimilar fenfible qualities. If
there be any fufpicion that the courfe of nature
may change, and that the paft may be no rule
for the future, all experience becomes ufelefs, and
can give rife to no inference or conclufion. It is-
impoffible, therefore, that any arguments from,
experience can prove this refemblance of the paft
to the future j fince all thefe arguments are found-
ed on a fuppofition of this refemblance. Let the
courfe of things be allov.-ed hitherto ever fo regu-
lar ; that alone, without fome new argument or
inference, proves not, that for the future it will
continue fo. In vain do we pretend to have
learned the nature of bodies from our paft expe-
rience. Their fecret nature, and confequently all
fheir effects and influence, may change> without
any change in their fenfible qualities* This hap-
pens fometimes, and with regard to fome objects:
may it not happen always^ and with regard

to

EXPERIENCE. 307

to all objects ? There is no logic, or procefs of ar-
gument, which can fecure us againft this fuppo-
fition.

In all reafoning, therefore, from experience,
there is a ftep taken by the mind, which is not efta-
blifhed by any argument or procefs of the under-
ftanding. But if the mind be not engaged by ar-
gument to make this ftep, it muft be induced by
fome other principle of equal weight and autho-
rity; and that principle will preferve its influence
as long as human nature remains the fame. Sup*
pofe a perfon, though endowed with the (trongeft
faculties of reafon and reflection, to be brought
on a fudden into this world : he would, indeed,
immediately obferve a continual fucceflion of ob-
jects, and one event following another ; but he
would not be able to difcover any thing further,
He would not be able by any reafoning to reach
the idea of caufe and effect ; fince the particular
powers, by which all natural operations are per-
formed, never appear to the fenfes; nor is itrea-
fonable to conclude, merely becaufe. one event, in.
one inftance precedes another, that therefore the
one is the caufe, the other the effect. Their con-
junction may be arbitrary and cafual. There may
be no reafon to infer the exiftence of the one
from the appearance of the other. And, in a word,
fuch a perfon without more experience, could ne-
ter employ his conjecture or reafoning concern-
ing

EXPERIENCE.'

ing any matter of fa£t, or be aflured of any thing
beyond what was immediately prefent to his me-
mory or fenfes.

Suppofe again, that he has acquired more
experience, and has lived fo long in the world*
as to have obferved fimilar obje£ls or events to
be conftantly conjoined together; what is the
confequence of this experience ? — :He immedi-
ately infers the exiftence of the one object from
the appearance of the other. Yet he has not, by
all his experience, acquired any idea or know-
ledge of the fecret power by which the one ob-
ject 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 it: and
though he fhould be convinced that his under-
ftanding has no part in the operation, he would
neverthelefs continue in the fame courfe of think-
ing. To this he is determined by cuftom.o? habit*
For wherever the repetition of any particular aft
or operation produces a propenfity to renew the
fame acl: or operation, without being impelled by
any reafoning or procefs of the underftanding, we
always fay, that this propenfity is the effect of cu-
{lorn. Cuflom^ then, is the great guide of human
life. It is that principle alone which renders our
experience ufeful to us; and makes us expect for,
the future a fimilar train of events with thofe
wluchihave appeared in the paft. Having found,

in

EXPERIENCE. 309;

in many inftances, that any two kinds of objects,
iame and heat, fnow and cold, have always been
conjoined together; if flame or fnow be prefented
anew to our fenfes, the mind is carried by cuftom
to expect heat or cold; and to believe that fuch a
quality does exift, and will difcover itfelf upon a
nearer approach. This belief is the neceiTary con-
fcquence of placing the mind in fuch circum-
ftances. It is an operation of the foul, when we
are fo fituated as unavoidably to feel the paflion
of love when we receive benefits; or hatred, when
we meet with injuries. All thefe operations are
a fpecies of natural inftincts, which no reafoning
or procefs of the thought and underftanding is
able either to produce or to prevent !

HUME.

THE EXISTENCE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS
ONLY PROBABLE.

WHOEVER will be fatisfied with evidence only,
can hardly be fure of any thing except his own
exiftence. How could he, for example, be con-
vinced of that of other bodies ? For cannot God,
by his omnipotence, make the fame impreflions
on our fenfes as the prefence of the objects would
excite ? And if we grant, that the Deity can dot,
this, how can it be affirmed, that he does not em-
ploy his power in this manner; and that the whole

univerfe

310 EXTERNAL OBJECTS.

univerfe is nothing more than a mere phenome-
non ? Befules, as we are affected in our dreams
by the fame fenfation we {hould feel were the ob-
ject prefent, how can it be proved, that our life
is not one continued dream? I would not be un-
derftood from hence to deny the exiftence of bo-
dies, but only to fliow that we have lefs affurance
of it than of our own exiftence. And as truth
is an indivifible point, we cannot fay of a certain
fact, that it is more or lefs true : It is therefore
evident, that if we are more certain of our own
exiftence than that of other bodies, the exiftence
of the latter is no more than a probability. It is,.
indeed, a very great probability ; and with regard
to the conduct of life, equivalent to evidence; not-
withftanding which, it is only a probability.

HELYETIUS,

FABULOUS STORIES. 311'

DIFFICULTY OF DETECTING FABULOUS
STORIES.

THE difficulty of dete&ing falfehood in any
private, or even public hiftory, at the time
and place where it is faid to happen, is very great;
but much more fo where the fcene is removed to
ever fo fmall a diftance. Even a court of judica-
ture, with all the authority, accuracy, and judge-
ment which they can employ, find themfelves of-
ten at a lofs to diilinguifh between truth and
falfehood in the moil recent actions. But the
matter never comes to any iffue, if trufted to the
common method of altercation, and debate, and
flying rumours •, efpecially when rnens paflions
have taken party on either fide.
. In the infancy of new religions, the wife and

learned

312 FABULOUS STORIES.

learned commonly efteem the matter too incon-
fiderable to deferve their attention and regard;
And when afterwards they would willingly dete£t
the cheat, in order to undeceive the deluded mul-
titude, the feafon is now paft, and the records
and witnefies, which might clear up the matter,
have perimed beyond recovery. No means of de-
te£lion remain but thofe which muil be drawn
from the very teftimony itfelf of the reporters :
and thefe, though always fufficient with the judi-
cious and knowing, are commonly too fine to fall
under the comprehenfion of the vulgar.

MATTERS opFACTNOT DEMONSTRATIVELY

CERTAIN.

ALL the objects of human reafon and inquiry
may be naturally divided into two kinds, viz.
Relations of ideas, and matters of fa El. Of the
firfl kind are the fciences of geometry, algebra,
and arithmetic ; and, in fhort, every affirmation
which is either intuitively or demonftratively
certain. Propofitions of this kind are difcoverable
by the mere operation of thought, without depen-
dence on what is any where exiftent in the uni-
verfe. Matters of fact, which are the fecond ob-
jects of human reafon, are not ascertained in the
fame manner ; nor is our evidence of their truth,
2 how-

. , A C T.

however great, of a like nature with the forego-*
ing. The contrary of every matter of fact is flill
poffible, becaufe it can never imply a contradic-
tion; and is conceived by the mind with equal fa-
cility and diftinftnefs, as if ever fo conformable
to reality. That the fun ivi/l not rife to-morrow^
is no lefs intelligible a proposition, and implies no
more contradiction, than the affirmation that it
will rife. We fhould in vain, therefore, attempt
to demonftrate its falfehood. Were it demon-
ftratively falfe, it would imply a contradiction j
and could never be diftinctly conceived by the
mind. HUME.

THE NATURE OF OUR REASONINGS CON-
CERNING MATTERS OF FACT.

ALL reafonings concerning matters of fact,
feem to be founded in the relation of caufe and
effect. By means of that relation alone, we can
go beyond the evidence of our memory and fenfes.
If you were to aflc a man, why he believes any
matter of fact which is abfentj for inftance, that
his friend is in the country, or in France? he
'would give you a reafon : and this reafon would
be fome other facl •, as a letter received from him,
or the knowledge of his former refolutions and
promifes. A man finding a watch, or any other
machine, in a defert ifland, would conclude that

VOL. I. Dd f thert

314 FACT.

there had once been men in that ifland. All 'our
reafonings concerning fact are of the fame nature.
And here it is conftantly fuppofed, that there is
a relation between the prefent fact and that infer-
red from it. Were there nothing to bind them
together, the inference would be entirely preca-
rious. The hearing of an articulate voice and ra-
tional difcourfe in the dark, allures us of the pre-
fence of fome perfon. Why? Becaufe thefe are
the effects of the human fhape and fabric, and
clofely connected with it. If we anatomize all
the other reafonings of this nature, we fhall find,
that they are founded on caufe and effect; and
that this relation is either near or remote, direct:
or collateral. Heat and light are collateral effects
of fire; and the one effect may juftly be inferred
from the other. HUME.

FAITH.

THERE being many things wherein we have
very imperfect notions, or none at all ; and
other things, of whofe paft, prefent, or future
exiftence, by the natural ufe of our faculties, we
can have no knowledge at all; thefe, as being
beyond the difcovery of our natural faculties,
£iid above reafon, are, when revealed, the pro-
per matter of faith. Thus, that part of the angels
rebelled agajnft God, and thereby loft their firft

happy

FAITH. 315

happy ftate; and that the dead {hall rife, and live
again : thefe, and the like, being beyond the dif-
covery of our reafon, are purely matters of faith;
with which reafon has directly nothing to do.

But fince God, in giving us the light of reafon,
has not thereby tied up his hands from affording
us, when he thinks fit, the light of revelation in
any of thofe matters, wherein our natural fa-
culties are able to give a probable determination;
revelation, where God has been pleafed to give it,
mufl carry it againft the probable conjectures of
reafon : Becaufe the mind, not being certain of
the truth of what it does not evidently know, but
only yielding to the probability that appears in it,
is bound to give up its afient to fuch a teilimony ;
which, it is fatisfied, comes from one who cannot
err, and will not deceive. But yet it ftill belongs
to reafon to judge of the truth of its being a re-
velation, and of the fignification of the words
wherein it is delivered. Indeed, if any thing fnall
be thought revelation which is contrary to the
plain principles of reafon, and the evident know-
ledge the mind has of its own clear and diftintt
ideas ; there reafon muft be hearkened to, as to
a matter within its province : fmce a man cant
never have fo certain a knowledge, that a propo-
fition which contradicts the clear principles and
evidence of his own knowledge, was divinely re-
vealed, or that he underftands the words rightly
IX d 2 where -

316 FAITH.

wherein it is delivered, as he has that the con-
trary is true : and fo is bound to confider and
judge of it as a matter of reafon, and not fwallow
it, without examination, as a matter of faith.

Firft, Whatever propofition is revealed, of whofe
truth our mind, by its natural faculties and no-
tions, cannot judge; that is purely matter of faith,
and above reafon.

Secondly, All p.ropofitions, whereof the mind,
by the ufe of its natural faculties, can come to
determine and judge from naturally acquired
ideas, are matter of reafon; with this difference
Mill, that in thofe concerning which it has but
an uncertain evidence, and fo is perfuaded of
their truth only upon probable grounds, which
ftill admit a pcflibiiity of the contrary to be true,
without doing violence to the certain evidence of
its own knowledge, and overturning the prin-
ciples of all reafon ; in fuch probable propositions',
I fay, an evident revelation ought to determine
our aflent even againft probability. For where
the principles of reafon have not evidenced a
propofition to be certainly true or falfe, there
clear revelation, as another principle of truth,
and ground of aflent, may determine; and fo it
may be matter of faith, and be alfo above reafon,
Becaufe reafon, in that particular matter, being
able to reach no higher than probability, faith
gave the determination where reafon came fhort;

and

FAITH. 317

and revelation difcovered on which fide the truth
lay.

Thus far the dominion of faith reaches, and
that without any violence or hinderonce to rea-
fon; which is not injured or difturbed, but aflifted
and improved, by new difcoveries of truth coming
from the eternal fountain of all knowledge. Who-
ever God hath revealed, i& certainly true ; no
doubt can be made of it; This is the. proper
objecl of faith : but whether it be a divine revela-
tion or no, reafon muft judge ; which can- never
permit the mind to reject a greater evidence to
embrace what is lefs evident, nor allow it to en-
tertain probability in opposition to knowledge and
certainty. There can be no evidence, that any
traditional revelation is of divine original, in
the words we receive it, and in the fenfe we
underftand it, fo clear and fo certain, as that of
the principles of reafon : and therefore nothing
that is contrary to, and inconfiftent with the clear
and felf-evident dictates of reafon, has a right to
be urged or afiented to as a matter of faith,
wherein reafon hath nothing to do. Whatfoever
is divine revelation, ought to over-rule all our
opinions, prejudices, and intereft, and hath a
right to be received with full aflent. Such a,
fubmillion as this, of our reafon to faith, takes
not away the land-marks of knowledge ; this
(hakes not the foundations of reafon, but leaves
D d 3 us.,

f A I T H-.

us that ufe of our faculties for which they were
given us., LOCKE.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

BELIEF or difbelief can neither be a virtue or
a crime in any one who ufed the beft means in
his power of being informed. If a propofition is
evident, we cannot avoid believing it; and where
is the merit or piety of a neceffary afient ? If it
is not evident, we cannot help rejecting it, or
doubting of it; and where is the crime of not
performing impofiibilities, or not believing what
does not appear to us to be true ?

WHITBT.

FAITH AND REASON:

IF the provinces of faith and reafon are not
kept diftinft by thefe boundaries, there will, in,
matters of religion, be no room for reafon at all ;
and thofe extravagant opinions and ceremonies
that are to be found in the feveral religions of
the world, will not deferve to be blamed. For
to this- crying up of faith, in oppofition to reafon,
we may, I think, in good meafure, afcribe thofe
abfurdities that fill almoft all the religions which
po fiefs and divide mankind. For men having
been principled with an opinion, that they muft

not

FAITH. 319

act confult reafon in the things of religion, how-
ever apparently contradictory to common fenfe,
and the very principles of all their knowledge,
have let loofe their fancies and natural fuperfti-
taon ; and have been by them led into fo ftrange
opinions and extravagant practices in religion,
that a confiderate man cannot but Hand amazed
at their follies, and judge them, fo far from being
acceptable to the great and wife God, that he
cannot avoid thinking them ridiculous and offen-
five to a fober good man. So that in effecl: re--
ligion, which fhould mod diftinguifh us from
beads; and ought moft peculiarly to elevate us,
as rational creatures, above brutes; is that where-
in men often appear moft irrational and more
fenfelefs than beads themfelves. Credo, quia im-
fojjlbih eft, " I believe, becaufe it is impoflible,"
might in a good man pafs for a fally of zeal ; but
would prove a very ill rule for men to choofe
their opinions or religion by.

FAME.

A MAN, whofe talents and genius give him the
confcioufnefs of deferving reputation, may let
the public voice alone. He need not trouble'
himfelf in dictating what it {hall determine j
but wait, if I may fay fo, for future fame to

come

FAME.

come and take his orders. He will Toon put to
filence every inferior voice, as the force of the
fundamental found in a concord deftroys every
diflbnance which tends to alter the harmony. —
We rnuft act in fame as cautioufly as in ficknels;
impatience is fatal in either of them. How
many men are there diftinguifhed for their rare
endowments, to whom we may apply the rebuke
formerly made to a Carthaginian general : " The
" gods do not give all talents to one ; you have
" that of obtaining a victory, but not that of
« ufmg it." Renown is a kind of game at com-
merce, where chance fometimfis gets a fortune ;
but where merit acquires, in general, more
certain gains j provided, that while it ufes the
tricks of garnefters, it does not expofe itfelf to
be betrayed by them. But it is too frequently
confidered as a mere lottery, where perfons ima-
gine they make their fortunes by inventing falfe
tickets. D'ALEMBERT;

ORIGIN OF THE LOVE OF FAME.

OUR opinions of all kinds are ftrongly affected
by fociety and fympathy ; and it is almoll impof-
fible for us to fupport any principle or fentiment
againft the univerfal confent of every one with
whom we have any friendfhip or correfpondence.
But of all our opinions, thcfe, which we form

in

FAME. 321

in our own favour, however lofty or prefuming,
are at bottom the fraileft, and the mod eafily
fhaken by the contradiction 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 flili
makes us dread a miftake. And the very diffi-
culty of judging concerning an object, 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 bet-
ter qualified to form juft opinions concerning us,
Hence that flrong love of fame with which all
mankind are poflefled. It is in order to fix and
confirm their favourable opinion of themfelves,
not frdm any original paflion, that they feek the
applaufes of others. And when a man defires to
be praifed, it is for the fame reafon that a
beauty is pleafed with furveying herfelf in a fa-
vourable looking-glafs, and feeing the reflection
of her own charms.

HUME.

FANATICISM.

FANATICISM is to fuperftition what a delirium
is to a fever, and fury to anger : He who has ec-
ftafies and vifions, who takes dreams for realities,
and his imagination for prophecies, is an enthu-

FANATICISM.

fiaft ; and he who flicks not at fupporting his
folly by murder, is a fanatic.

The only remedy for this infectious difeafe is
a philofophical temper, which fpreading through
fociety, at length foftens manners, and obviates
the excefles of the diftemper ; for whenever it gets
ground, the beft way is to fly from it, and ftay
till the air is purified. The laws and religion are
no prefervative againft this mental peftilence. Re-
ligion, fo far from being a falutary aliment in
thefe cafes, in infected brains becomes poifon.
. The laws likewife have proved very ineffectual
againft this fpiritual rage ; it is indeed like read-
ing an order of council to a lunatic. The crea-
tures are firmly perfuaded that the fpirit by which
they are actuated is above all laws, and that their
enthufiafm is the only law they are to regard.

What can be anfwered to a perfon who tells
you, that he had rather obey God than men ;
and who, in confequence of that choice, is cer-
tain of gaining heaven by cutting your throat ?

The leaders of fanatics, and who put the dag-
ger into their hands, are ufually defigning knaves j
they are like the old man of the mountain, who,
according tohiftory, gave weak perfons a foretafte
of the joys of paradife, promifmg them an eternity
of fuch enjoyments, provided they would go and
murder all thofe whom he fliould name to them.

In the whole world, there has been but one re-
ligion

FANATICISM.' 323

ligion clear of fanaticifm, which is that of the
Chinefe literati. As to the fects of philofophers,
inftead of being infected with this peftilence, they
were a ready and fure prefervative againil it : for
the effect of philofophy is to compofe the foul,
and fanaticifm is incompatible with tranquillity.

VOLTAIRE.

THE PUNISHMENT OF FANATICISM.

PAINFUL and corporal punifhments fhould
never be applied to fanaticifm ; for, being found-
ed on pride, it glories in perfecution. Infamy
and ridicule only fhould be employed againft fa-
natics : if the firft, their pride will be overba-
lanced by the pride of the people ; and we may
judge of the power of the fecond, if we confider
that even truth is obliged to funimon all her force
when attacked by error armed by ridicule. Thus
by oppofmg one paflion to another, and opinion
to opinion, a wife legiflator puts an end to the
admiration of the populace, occafioned by a falfe
principle, the original abfurdity of which is reil-
ed by fome well-deduced confequences.

This is the method to avoid confounding the
immutable relations of things, or oppofmg nature;
whofe actions not being limited by time, but ope-
rating inceflantlv, overturn and deftroy all thofe
rain regulations which contradict her laws. It

FANATICISM.

is not only in the fine arts' that the imitation of
nature is the fundamental principle ; it is the
fame in found policy, which is no other than the
art of uniting and directing to the fame end the
natural and immutable fentiments of mankind.

BECCARIAi

FILIAL AFFECTION.

THE bond that ties children to their parents
is lefs ftrong than commonly imagined. Nothing
is more common in Europe than to fee children
defert their parents, when they become old, in-
firm, incapable of labour, and forced to fubfifl
by beggary. We fee, in the country, one father
nourifh feven or eight children ; but feven or
eight children are not fufficient to nourifh one fa-
ther. If all children be not fo unnatural, if fome
of them have affection and humanity, it is to
education and example they owe that humanity*
Nature, no doubt, defigned that gratitude and
habit fliould form in man a fort of gravitation,
by which they fhould be impelled to a love of
their parents ; but it has a'fo defigned that man
fhould have, iii the natural defire of independ-
ence, a repulfive power, which fhould diminifh
the too great force of that gravitation. From
hence perhaps comes the proverb, founded on

2 common

FILIAL AFFECTION.

common and conftant obfervation, That the
of parents defcendst and does not remount.

HELVETIUS.

FINAL CAUSES.

A MAN muft be (it feems) ftark mad to deny
that the ftomach is made for digeftion, the eye to
fee, afid the ear to hear. — On the other hand, he
muft be ftrangely attached to final caufes to af-
firm, that (lone was made to build houfes, and
that China breeds filk worms to furnim Europe
with fattin. — But it is faid, if God has manifeftly
made one thing with defign, he had a defign in
every thing. To allow a Providence in one cafe,
and deny it in another, is ridiculous. Whatever
is made, was forefeen and arranged ; now every
arrangement has its objeft, every effect its caufe :
therefore every thing is equally the refult or the
produft of a final caufe : therefore it is equally
true to fay, that nofes were made to wear fpec-
tacles, and fingers to be decorated with diamonds,
as it is true to fay, that the ears have been made
to hear founds, and the eyes to receive light.

This difficulty, I apprehend, may be eafily
cleared up, when the effects are invariably the
fame in all times and places ; when fuch uniform
effects are independent of the beings they apper-
tain to, there then is evidently a final caufe. — All
animals have eyes, and they fee; all have ears,
VOL. I. E e f and

326 FILIAL AFEECTION.

and they hear; all a mouth, with which they
eat; a ftomach, or fomething fimilar, by which
they digeft ; all an orifice, which voids the excre-
ments ; all an inftrument of generation ; and
thefe natural gifts operate in them without the
intervention of any art. Here are clear demon-
ftrations of final caufes ; and to contradict fo uni-
verfal a truth, would be to pervert our faculty of
thinking. — But it is not in all places, nor at all
times, that flones form edifices ; all nofes do not
\vear fpectacles ; all fingers have not a ring ; nor
are all legs covered with filk {lockings : there-
fore a filk- worm is not made to cover my legs, as
your mouth is made to eat, &c. Thus there are
effe&s produced by final caufes ; but withal many
which cannot come within that appellation. But
both one and the other are equally agreeable to
the plan of a general providence ; for certainly
nothing comes to pafs in oppofition to it, or fo
much as without it. Every particular within the
compafs of nature is uniform, immutable, and
the immediate work of their Author. Men were
not eflentially created to butcher one another;
but the compofition we are made of is frequently
productive of mafiacres, as it produces calum-
nies, vanities, perfections, and impertinences :
not that the formation of man is precifely the
final caufe of our follies and brutalities ; a final
jcaufe being univerfal r.n,d invariable, in all places,

and

FILIAL AFFECTION/ 327

and at all times. The crimes and abfurdities of
the human mind are, neverthelefs, in the eternal
order of things. In threfhing corn, the flail is
the final caufe of the grain's feparation j but if
the flail, threfhing the corn, deftroys a thoufand
infecls, this is not from any determinate will of
mine, neither is it mere chance : thefe infects
were at that time under my flail ; and it was de-
termined they were to be there, that is, it was
confequential to the nature of things.

The inftruments given to us by nature cannot
be final caufes, ever in motion, and -infallible in
their eiTecl. The eyes, given us for fight, are
not always open ; every fenfe has its intervals of
reft, and its exertion is frequently prevented by
extraneous caufes ; neverthelefs the final caufe
fubfifts, and as foon as it is free will act.

VOLTAIRE.

FLATTERY.

EVERY body hates praife when he believes it
to be falfe ; people then love flatterers only in the
quality of fincere admirers. Under this it is im-.
poffible not to love them ; becaufe every one be-
lieves that his actions are laudable and worthy of
praife. Whoever difdains elogiums, fuffers at
lead people to praife him on this account. When
they deteft a flatterer, it is becaufe they know
him to be fuch. In flattery, it is not the praife,
E e 2 but

3i8 FLATTERY.

but the falfehood, which (hocks us. If the man
of fenfe appears little fenfible of elogiums, it is
becaufe he more frequently perceives the falfe-
hood : but let an artful flatterer praife, perfift in
praifmg him, and fometimes feem to cenfure
with the elogiums he beftows; and even the man
of the greateft fenfe and penetration will, fooner
or later, be his dupe. This tafte derives its fource
from a vanity common to all men. Every man,
therefore, would be praifed and flattered ; but all
would not have it done in the fame manner j and
it is only in this particular that the difference be-
tween them confifts. Of all praifes the moft flat-
tering and delicate is, without difpute, that which
moft evidently proves our own excellence. What
gratitude do we owe to thofe who difcover to us
defects that, without being prejudicial to us, af-
fure us of our fuperiority ? Of all flattery this is
the moft artful. HELVETIUS.

FRIENDSHIP.

FRIENDSHIP is a tacit contract between two
fenfible and virtuous fouls : I fay fenfible 5 for a
monk, a hermit, may not be wicked, yet live a
ftranger to friendfhip. I add virtuous ; for the
wicked have only accomplices, the voluptuous
have companions, the defigning have aflbciates,
the men of bufmefs have partners, the politicians

form

FRIENDSHIP. 327

form a fa£lious band, the bulk of idle men have
connexions, princes have courtiers; but virtuous
men alone have friends. Cethegus was Catiline's
accomplice, and Maecenas was- Oclavius's cour-
tier ; but Cicero -was Atticus's friend. What

is implied in this contract between two tender
and ingenuous fouls ? Its obligations are ftronger
and weaker, according to their degree of fenfibi-
iity, and the number of good offices performed,

VOLTAIRE,

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

LOVE implies want, and there is no friendfhip
without it ; for this would be an effect without a
caufe. All men have not the fame wants ; and
therefore the friendship that fubfifts between them
is founded on different motives : fome want plea-
fare or money, others credit ; thofe converfation,
and thefe a confident to whom they maydifburthen,
their hearts. There are eonfequently friends of
money, cf intrigue, of the mind, and of 'misfor-
tune. In friendfhip, as/ in love, people form the
the moft romantic ideas ; they always fearch for
the hero, and every i-nftant think they have found
him. We are never fo violently affected with the
virtues of a man as when we firfl fee him ; for
as cuftom renders us infenfible to perfonal beau-
ties, a good underftanding, and even the quali-
E e 3 ties

FRIENDSHIP.

ties of the foul, we are never fo ftrongly agitated
as by the pleafure of furprife. We generally love
a man while we know little of him, and are defi-
rous of knowing him better 5 but no fooner is
this curiofity fatisfied, than we are difgufled. In
confidering friendfhip as a reciprocal want, it can-
not but be acknowledged, that it is very difficult
for the fame wants, and confequently for the
fame friendfhip, to fubfift between two men for
a long courfe of time ; and therefore nothing is
more uncommon than friendfhip of a long fland-
ing. The circumflances in which two friends
ought to be found being once given, and their
characters known ; if they are ever to quarrel,
there is no doubt but that a man of penetration,
by forefeeing the time when thefe two men would
ceafe to be reciprocally of ufe to each other,
might calculate the moment when their rupture
•would happen, as an aflronomer calculates the
time of an eclipfe. We ought not, however, to
confound with friendfhip the chains of habit, the
refpedHul efteem felt for an acknowledged friend,
or that happy point of honour, fo ufeful to fo-
ciety, that makes us keep an acquaintance with
thofe whom we call our friends. We perform
the fame fervices for them as we did when they
filled us with the warmeft fenfations, though in
reality we do not want their company. — Friend-
fhip fuppofes a want j and the more this want is

felt,

FRIENDSHIP. . 331

felt, the more lively will be the friendfhip ; the
want is then the meafure of the fenfation. A
man and woman efcaping fhipwreck, fave them-
felves on a defert ifland ; where, having no hope
of ever feeing their native country, they are for-
ced to bend their mutual afliftance, to defend
themfelves from the wild beafts, to enjoy life,
and to efcape defpair : no friendfhip can be more
warm than that between this man and woman,
who perhaps would have hated each other had
they remained at Paris. If one of them happens to
perifh, the other has really loft the half of himfelf :
no grief can equal his ; a perfon muft dwell alone
on a defert ifland, who can be fenfible of all its
violence. The unfortunate are in general the moft
tender friends j united by their reciprocal diftref-
fes, they enjoy, while condoling the misfortune
of a friend, the pleafure of being affected with
their own. What is true of circumftances, is alfo
true of characters j there are fome who cannot
live without a friend. The firft are, thofe of a
weak and timid difpofition, who, in their whole
conduct, never conclude on any thing without the
advice and afliftance of others. .The fecond are,
the perfons of a gloomy, fevere, and tyrannical
difpofition, who are warm friends of thofe over
whom they vent their fpleen : thefe are like one
of the wives of Socrates, who, at the news of
the death of that great man, became more incon-

folable

332 FRIENDSHIP-

folable than the fecond, \vlio being of a mild and
amiable temper, loil in Socrates only an hufband^
\vhile the other loft in him the martyr of her ca-
pricious temper, and the only man who could
bear with it. If we loved a friend only for him-
felf, we fhould never confider any thing but his
happinefs; we fhould not reproach him for being
fo long without feeing or writing to us; we fhould
fay that he had probably fpent his time more a-
greeably, and fnould rejoice in his happinefs.

Men have taken great pains to repeat after each
Other, that thofe ought not to be reckoned in the
lift of friends whofe interested views make them
love us only for our ability to ferve them. This
kind of friendfhip is certainly not the mcft flat-
tering j but it is neverthelefs a real friendfhip..
Men, for inftance, love in a minifter of ftate the
power he has of obliging them ; and in moft of
them the love of the perfon is incorporated with
the love of the preferment. "Why is the name
of friendfhip refufed to this fenfation ? Men do
not love us for ourfelves, but always on fome
other account; and the above-mentioned is as
good as any other. A man is in love with a wo-
man ; can it be faid he does not love her becaufe
he only admires the beauties of her eyes or com-
plexion ? But, it is faid, the rich man reduced
to poverty is no longer beloved. This is not de-
iiied ; but when the fmall-pox robs a woman of

her

FRI E N D s H i P. 333

her beauty, all addrefles to her commonly ceafe ;
though this is no proof fhe was not beloved while
(he was beautiful. Suppofe a friend in whom we
had the greateft confidence, and for whofe mind,
difpofition, and character, we had the greateft e-
fteem, was fuddenly become blind, deaf, and
dumb ; we fhould regret in him the lofs of a
friend ; v/e fhould ftill refpect his memory ; but,
in fact, we fhould no longer love him, becaufe
he would have no refemblance to the man who
was the object of our friendfhip. If a minifter
of ftate fall into difgrace, we no longer love him 5
for this reafon, becaufe he is the friend who is fud-
denly become blind, deaf, and dumb. It is never-
thelefs true, that the man, anxious for preferment,
has great tendernefs for him who can procure it
for him. Whoever has this want of promotion
is born the friend of the minifter of ftate. It is,
then, our vanity that makes us refufe giving the
name to fo felfifh and neceflary a paflion. It may,
however, be obferved, that the moft folid and
durable friendfhips are commonly thofe of virtu-
ous men, however villains themfelves are fufcep-
tible of it. If, as we are forced to confefs, friend-
fhip is only the fenfation by which two men are
united, we cannot deny but that friendfhips fub-
fift between the wicked, without contradicting
the moft authentic facts. Can we, for inftance,
doubt that two confpirators may be united by the

varmeft

FRIENDSHIP.

warmeft friendfhip ? That Jaffier did not love
James Piero £ That Octavius, who was certainly
uot a virtuous man, did not love Meczenas, who
was at beft but a weak man ? The power of
fricndiliip is not in proportion to the virtue of
two friends, but to the force of the intereft by
which they arc united. H E L v E T i u s.

FUTURE PUNISHMENTS.

IF Supreme Juftice avenges itfelf on the wick-
ed, it avenges itfelf here below. It is you and
your errors, ye nations ! that are its minifters of
vengeance. It employs the evils you bring on
each other, to punifh the crimes for which you
deferve them. It is in the infatiable hearts of
mankind, corroding with envy, avarice, and am-
bition, that their avenging paflions punifh them
for their vices amidft all the falfe appearances of
profperity. Where is the neceflity of feeking a
hell in another life, when it is to be found even
in this, in the hearts of the wicked ?
. Where our momentary neceffities or fenfelefs
defires have an end, there ought our paflions and
our vices to end alfo. Of what perverfity can
pure fpirits be fufceptible? As they ftantl in need
cf nothing, to what end fhould they be vicious ?
If defkitute of our grcfier fenfes, all their happi-
uefs confifts in the contemplation of things, they

cannot

FUTURE. 33-

ctmnot be defirous of any thing but good ; and
whoever ceafes to be wicked, is itpoflibje he fhould
be eternally miferable ? ROUSSEAU.

FUTURE REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS.

MAN is confidered as a moral, becaufe he
is, regarded as an accountable, being: But an
accountable being, as the word exprefles, is a
being that muft give an account of its actions
to fome other; and that confequently muft re-
gulate them according to the good liking of this
other. Man is accountable to God and his
fellow-creatures. But though he is, no doubt,
principally accountable to God, in the order of
time he muft neceffarily conceive himfelf as ac-
countable to his fellow-creatures, before he can
form any idea of the Deity, or of the rules by
which that Divine Being will judge of his con-
duct. A child furely conceives itfelf as account-
able to its parents, and is elevated or caft down
by the thought of their merited approbation or
<lifapprobation, long before it forms any idea of
its accountablenefs to the Deity, or of the rules
by which that Divine -Being will judge of its
conduct. The great Judge of the world has,
for the wifeft reafons, thought proper to inter-
pofe between the weak eye of human reafon'and
the throne of his eternal juftice a degree of ob-

fcurity

FUTURE.

fcurity and darknefs, which, though it does not
entirely cover that great tribunal from the view
of mankind, yet renders the impreflion of it faint
and feeble, in comparifon of what might be ex-
pelled from the grandeur and importance of fo
mighty an object. If thofe infinite rewards and
punifhments, which the Almighty has prepared
for thofe who obey or refift his will, were per-
ceived as diftinttly as we forefee the frivolous
and temporary retaliations which we may expect
from one another, the weaknefs of human nature,
aftonifhed at the immenfity of objects fo little
fitted to its comprehenfion, could no longer at-
tend to the little affairs of this world : and it is
abfolutely impoflible that the bufmefs of fociety
could have been carried on, if, in this refpect,
there had been a fuller revelation of the intentions
of Providence than that which has already been
made, A. SMITH.

FUTURE STATE.

CICERO, in his fpeech for Cluentius, fays to a
full fenate, What hurt does death to him ? All
the idle tales about hell none of us give the leaft
credit to ; then what has death deprived him of ?
Nothing but the feeling of pain. — Does not Crefar,
Catiline's friend, in order to fave that wretch
from an indictment brought againft him by the
3 fame

£ u t u R Ci

farrid Cicefo, object, that to put a criminal to
death is not puniihing him; that death is nothing;
that it is only the end of our fufferings ; and that
it is rather a happy than a fatal moment ? And
did not Cicero and the whole fenate yield to
thefe arguments?

VOLTAIRE*

VOL. I. T Ff

GALLANTRY

G.

GALLANTRY.

NATURE has implanted in all living creatures
an affection between the fexes, which even
in the fiercefl and moil rapacious animals is not
merely confined to the fatisfaclion of the bodily
appetite, but begets a friendfhip and mutual fym-
pathy, which runs through the whole tenor of
their lives ; nay, even in thofe fpecies where na-
ture limits the indulgence of this appetite to one
feafon and to one object, and forms a kind of
marriage or affectation between a (ingle male and
female, there is yet a vifible complacency and
benevolence, which extends farther, and mutu-
ally foftens the affections of the fexes towards
each other. Kow much more mud this have
place in man} where the confinement of the

ap-

GALLANTRY",' 339

appetite is not natural •, but either is derived ac-
cidentally from Come ftrong charm of love, or arifes
from reflections on duty and convenience ? No-
thing, therefore, can proceed lefs from affecta-
tion than the paflion of gallantry. It is natural
in the higheil degree. Art and education, in the
moil elegant courts, make no more alteration
on it, than on all the other laudable paflions.
They only turn the mind more towards it ; they
refine it j they polifh it ; and give it a proper
grace and expreflion. — But gallantry is as gene-
rous as it is natural. Nature has given man the
fuperiority above woman, by endowing him with
greater ftrength both of mind and body : it is his
part to alleviate that fuperiority as much as pof-
fible by the generofity of his behaviour, and by
a ftudied deference and complaifance for all her
inclinations and opinions. Barbarous nations dif*
play this fuperiority, by reducing their females to-
the moft abjecl: flavery; by confining them, by
beating them, by felling them, by killing them :
But the male fex among a polite people, difcover
their fuperiority in a more generous, though not
lefs evident manner ; by civility, by refpecl:, by

complaifance, and in a word by gallantry.

Gallantry is not lefs confident with wifdom and
prudence, than with nature and generofity ; and,
when under proper regulations, contributes more
lhan any other invention to the- entertainment
F f 2 and.

GALLANTRY.

and improvement of the youth of both fexes.
Among every fpecies of animals, Nature has
founded on the love between the fexes their
fweeteft and beft enjoyment. But the fatisfaclion.
of the bodily appetite is not alone fufficient to
gratify the mind; and even among brute creatures,
we find that their play and dalliance, and other
expreflions of fondnefs, form the greateft part of
the entertainment. In rational Beings, we mufl
certainly admit the mind for a confiderable fhare.
Were we to rob the feaft of all its garniture of
reafon, difcourfe, fympathy, friendfhip, and gaiety,
what remains would fcarcely be worth acceptance
in the judgment of the truly elegant and luxurious.
— What better fchool for manners than the com-*
pany of virtuous women ; where the mutual en-
deavour to pleafe muft infenfibly polifh the mind $
where the example of female foftnefs and modefty
muft communicate itfelf to their admirers ; and
where the delicacy of that fex puts every one on
his guard, left he give offence by any breach of
decency? HUME.

GENIUS.

GENIUS is properly the faculty of invention,
by means of which a man is qualified for making
new difcoveries in fcience, or for producing ori-
ginal works of ait. We may afcribe tafte, judge-
ment,

GENIUS. 34!

ment, or knowledge, to a man who is incapable of
invention j but we cannot reckon him a man of
genius. In order to determine how far he merits
that character, we muft inquire, whether he has
difcovered any new principle in fcience,. or in»
vented any new art, or carried thcfe arts, which
are already practifed, to a higher degree of per-
fection than former mafters ? Or, whether, at
lead, in matters of fcience, he. has improved on
the difcoveries of his predecefibrs, and reduced
principles formerly known to a greater degree of
fimplicity and confiftence, or traced them through
a train of confequences hitherto unknown ? or,
in the arts, defigned fome new work, different
from thofe of his predeceflbrs, though perhaps not
excelling them ? Whatever falls fhort of this ia
fervile imitation, or a dull effort cf plodding in-
duftry, which, as not implying invention, can be
deemed no proof of genius, whatever capacity,
(kill, or diligence it may evidence. But if a man
mows invention, no intellectual defects, which
his performance may betray can forfeit, his claim
to genius. His invention may bs irregular, wild,
undifciplined ; but ftill it is regarded as an in-
fallible mark of real natural genius : and the de-
gree of this faculty that we afcribe to him, is
always in proportion to our eftimate of the no-
velty, the difficulty, or the dignity of his inven-
tion. GERARD*.
Ff3 GOD.

OD

GOD.

NEWTON was fully perfuaded of the exigence
of a GOD; and by that term underftood, not only
an infinite, almighty, eternal, creative Being, but
a mailer, who had eflabliflied a relation between
himfelf and his creatures ; as, without this rela-
tion, the knowledge of a God is only a barren
idea, which would feem to invite every reafoner
of a perverfe nature to the practice of vice by the
hopes of impunity.

Accordingly, that great Philofopher, at the end
of his Principia^ makes a fingular remark, namely,
That we do not fay, My eternal, my infinite, be-
caufe thefe attributes do not at all relate to our
nature; but we fay, My God: and are thereby to
underftand the matter and preferver of our life,
the object of our thoughts. Newton's philofophy
leads to the knowledge of a, Supreme Being, who
freely created and arranged all tilings. For if the
•\vorld be finite ; if there be a vacuum, the exift-
ence of matter is not neceffary ; and therefore has
received exiftence from a free caufe. If matter
gravitates, it does not appear to gravitate from
its nature, as it is extended by its natur-e ; it has
therefore received its gravitation from God. If
the planets, in a fpace void of refinance, revolve
one way rather than another, the hand of their

Creator

G o D, 34 j

Creator muft have directed their courfe that way
with an abfolute freedom.

It may, perhaps, appear ftrange to many, that
among all the proofs of the exiilence of a God,
the flrongeft in Newton's opinion is that of final
caufes. The defign, or rather the defigns, vari-
ous ad infinitum, difplayed in the mod enormous
and moft minute parts of the univerfe, form a de-
monftration, which, from its being fo manifeftJy.
fenfible, is little regarded by fome philofophers }
but Newton thought that thefe infinite relations
could only be the work of an artift infinitely wife.
He made little account of the proof from the fuc-
ceflion of beings. It is commonly find, that if
men, animals, vegetables, and whatever compofe
this world, were eternal, a feries of generations
without caufe mufl of confequence be admitted.
The exiflence of thefe beings, it is faid, would
have no origin ; no eternal can be fuppofed to
rife again from generation to generation without
a beginning •, no eternal, betaufe no one can
exift of itfelf. Thus every thing would be ef-
fect, and nothing caufe. This argument appeared
to him founded only on the ambiguity of gene-
rations, and of beings formed one by the other.
For Atheifts, who admit a plenum, anfwer, that
there are, properly fpeaking, no generations :
there are not feveral fubftances: the univerfe is a
whole, necefiarily exifting, inceflantly difplaying

itfelf.

344 Coo.

Itfelf. It is one and the fame being, \vhofe na-
ture is immutable in its fubftance, and eternally-
varied in its modifications. Thus the argument
drawn from the fucceflion of beings would, per-
haps, prove very little againft an Atheift who
{hould deny the plurality of beings. He would
have recourfe to thofe ancient axioms, That no-
thing is produced by nothing; that one fubftance
cannot produce another-, that every thing is eter-
nal and necefTary.

Matter, fays the Atheift, is neceflary, becaufe
it exifts; motion is neceffary, becaufe nothing is
at reft; and motion is fo neceffary, that in nature
never any motive forces are loft.

What is to-day was yefterday; therefore it was
before yefterday, and thus recurring without end.
No perfon will dare to fay, that things fhall re-
turn to nothing ; how then dare to fay, that they
came from nothing ? In a word, I know not if
there be a metaphyfical proof more firiking, and
which fpeaks more ftrongly to man, than the ad-
mirable order in the world; and whether there
has ever been a finer argument than the follow-
ing, The heavens declare the gkry of Cod. Ac-
cordingly, you fee that Newton, at the end of his
Optics and Principia, ufes no other. No reafon-
ing appeared to him more grand and convincing
in favour of a Deity than that of Plato, who
tnakes one of his, interlocutors fay, You think I

have

GOD. 345

have an Intelligent foul, becaufe you perceive or-
der in my words and actions; furely, then, from
the order you fee in this world, there muft be in
it a fpirit fupremely intelligent.

But if the exiflence of an eternally almighty
Being be proved, it is not equally proved that this
Being is infinitely good in the general fenfe of the
word.

This is the grand refuge of {he Atheift. If I
admit a God, fays he, this God muft be goodnefs
itfelf. He who has given me a being, fhould alfo
give me happinefs : but I fee only diforder and ca-
lamity among mankind. The neceffity of an eter-
nal matter offends me lefs, than a Creator deal-
ing fo harfhly with his creatures. My doubts are
not to be removed by being told, that a firft man,
compofed of a body and foul, offended his Crea-
tor, and that mankind fuffers for his offence. For
if our bodies are derived from the firft man, our
fouls are not ; and even if they are, it feems the
moft horrid injuftice, for the punifhment to de-
fcend from the father to the children.

It is evident, that the Americans, and the
people of the old world, the Negroes and the Lap-
landers, are not at all defcended from that firft
man. The interior conftitution of the organs of
the Negroes is a palpable demonflration of this.

1 had, therefore, rather admit the neceffity

ef matter, generations, and eternal viciffitudes,

than

than a God, the free author of mifcrabie crcn-
Uires.

To this, it is anfwered, The words, gocd, com-
forty and happinefs, are equivocal : what is evil
with regard to you, is good in the general plan.
Will you deny a God, becaufe you have been af-
flicted with a fever? You fay he owed you hap-
pinefs : but what reafon have you to think fo ?
Why did he owe you this happinefs ? Was you in
any treaty with him ? Therefore to be only happy
in this life, you need only acknowledge a God.
You who cannot pretend to be perfect in any one
thing, how can you expect to be perfectly happy ?
But fuppofe that in a continual happinefs for one
hundred years, you may have a fit of the head-
ach, (hall this fhort interval induce you to deny a
Creator? Surely no. If, therefore, you do not
ftartle at a quarter of an hour's fuffering, why at
two hours; why at a day? Why fhould a year of
torment prevail on you to reject the belief of a
fupreme univerfal Artifan?

It is proved, that there is in this world more
good than evil •, for, after all, few men are to be
found who really wifh for death.

Men are fond of murmuring •, there is a plea-
fure in complaining, but more in living. We de-
light in viewing only evil, and exaggerating it.
Read hiftory, it is replied ; what is it more than
a continual feries of crimes and misfortunes ? A-

greedy

G o D> 347

greed ; but hiftories are only the repofitories of
great events: tempefts only are recorded j calms
are overlooked.

After examining the relations between the
fprings and organs of an animal, and the defigns
which difplay themfelves in every part, the man-
ner by which this animal receives life, by which
he fuftains it, and by which he gives it; you rea-
dily acknowledge the fupreme Artift. Will you
then change your opinion, becaufe wolves eat the
fiieep, and fpiders catch flies ? Do not you, on the
contrary, perceive, that thefe continual genera-
tions, ever devoured, and ever reproduced, are a
part of the plan of the univerfe? Wifdom and
power, you fay, are perceivable in them, but good-
nefs is ftill wanting.

In fine, if you may be happy to all eternity,
can any pains and afflictions in this life be worth
mentioning ?

You -cannot think the Creator good, becaufe
there is fome evil in this world. But if neceflity
fupply the place of a Supreme Being, will affairs
be mended? In the fyftem which admits a God,
fome difficulties only are to be removed ; in all
the other fyftems, we mufb encounter abfurdlties.

Philofophy, indeed, plainly (hows us, that there
is a God ; but it cannot teach us what he is, what
he is doing, how and wherefore he does it ; whe-
iher he exifts in time or in fpace ; whether he

has

343 COD.

has commanded once, or whether he is always
ac"ling •, whether he be in matter, or whether he
be not there, &e» To himfelf only thefe things
are known. VOLTAIRE.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

THOUGH God has given us no innate ideas of
himfelf ; though he has flampt no original cha-
racters on our minds, wherein we may read his
being; yet having furnifhed us with thofe facul-
ties our minds are endowed with, he hath not

left himfelf without witnefs ; fince we have
\ _ *

fenfe, perception, and reafon, and cannot want a
clear proof of him, as long as we carry ourfelves
about us. Nor can we juftly complain of our ig-
norance in this great point, fince he has fo plen-
tifully provided us with the means to difcover and
know him, fo far as is neceffary to the end of our
being, and the great concernment of our happi-
nefs. But though this be the moft obvious truth
that reafon difcovers ; and though its evidence be
(if I miftake not) equal to mathematical certainty;
yet it requires thought and attention, and the
mind muft apply itfelf to a regular deduction of
it from fome part of our intuitive knowledge, or
elfe we mail be as uncertain and ignorant of this
as of pther propofitions, which are in themfelves
capable of clear demonftration. To {how, there-
2 fore,

GOB. 349

fore, that we are capable of knowing, i. e. being
certain- that there is a God; and how we may
come by this certainty, I think we need go no fur-
ther than ourfelves, and that undoubted know-
ledge we have of our own exiftence.

Man knows by an intuitive certainty, that bare
nothing can no more produce any real being, than
it can be equal to two right angles. If a man
knows not that non-entity, or the abfence of all
being, cannot be equal to two right angles, it is
impoflible he fhould know any demonftration in
Euclid. If, therefore, we know there is fome real
being, and that non-entity cannot produce any
real being, it is an evident demonftration, that
from eternity there has been fomething; fince
what was not from eternity had a beginning, and
what had a beginning muft be produced by fome-
thing elfe.

Next, it is evident, that what had its being and
beginning from another, muft alfo have all that
which is in, and belongs to its being, from ano-
other too. All the powers it has muft be owing
to, and received from, the fame fource. This
eternal fource, then, of all being, muft alfo be
the fource and original of all power; and fo this
eternal Being muft be alfo the moft powerful.

Again, a man finds in himfelf perception and
knowledge : we have then got one ftep further ;
and we are certain now, that there is not only

VOL. I. f G g fome

GOD.

Come being, but fome knowing intelligent being
in the world.

There was a time, then, when there was no
knowing being, and when knowledge began to
be ; or elfe there has been alfo a knowing being
from eternity. If it be faid, there was a time
when no being had any knowledge, when that
eternal being was void of all understanding ; I re-
ply, that then it was impoflible there fhould ever
have been any knowledge : it being as impoflible
that things wholly void of knowledge, and ope-
rating blindly, and without any perception, mould
produce a knowing being, as it is impoflible that
a triangle mould make itfelf three angles bigger
than two right ones. For it is as repugnant to
the idea of fenfelefs matter, that it fhould put into
itfelf fenfe, perception, and knowledge, as it is
repugnant to the idea of a triangle, that it fhould
put into itfelf greater angles than two right ones.

Thus from the confederation of ourfelves, and
ivhat we infallibly find in our own conftitution,
our feafon leads us to the knowledge of this cer-
tain and evident truth, That there is an eternal,
rnoft powerful, and moft knowing Being; which,
whether any one will pleafe to call God, it mat-
ters not. The thing is evident j and from this idea
duly confidered, will eafily be deduced all thofe
other attributes which we ought to afcribe to this
eternal Being. If, neverthelefs, any one fhould

be

GOD. 351

be found fo fenfelefsly arrogant, as to fuppofe man
alone knowing and wife, but yet the product of
mere ignorance and chance, and that all the reft
of the univerfe acted only by that blind hap-
hazard ; I (hall leave with him that very rational
and emphatical rebuke of Tully 1. ii. De Leg. to
be confidered at his leifure. " What can be more
" fillily arrogant and mifbecoming, than for a man
" to think that he has a mind and underftanding
" in him, but yet in all the univerfe befide there
" is no fuch thing ? Or that thofe tilings, which
" witli the utmoft ftretch of his reafon he can
'* fcarce comprehend, fliould be moved and ma-
" naged without any reafon at all ?" Quid eft enim
verius, quam neminem effe oporterc tarn flulte ar-
rogant em, ut infe mentem et rationem putet ineffe^
in calo mundcque non ptitet?

From what has been faid, it is plain to me, we
have a more certain knowledge of the exiftence
of a God, than of any thing our fenfes have not
immediately difcovered to us. Nay, I prefume I
may fay, that we more certainly know that there
is a God, than that there is any thing elfe without
us. When I fay we know, I mean there is fuch
a knowledge within our reach which we cannot
mifs, if we will but apply our minds to that as we
do to feveral other inquiries.

LOCKE.

G g 2 THE

GOOD.

THE PREVALENCE OF GOOD OVER EVIL.

THAT the good overbalances the evil in the
phyfical and moral world, is clear from their fub-
fitting with regularity and order. If evil prepon-
derated in the former, nature would foon deftroy
herfclf ; if in the latter, rational beings would put
an end to their own exiftence. The preference
of life to death in one, and the prevalence of or-
der over diforder in the other, lead us to the fame
defirable conclufion. From the oppofition of the
different elements in the phyfical world arifes all
phyfical evil; fuch as ftorms and earthquakes: but
from tliis fame oppofition arifes all the phyfical
good; fuch as the regularity of the whole, the vi-
ciffitude of feafon, generation, vegetation, and an
endlefs variety of other beneficial effects. — From
the contrariety of interefts in the moral world,
arife wars, devaftations, and murders ; but from
the fame contrariety proceed peace, order, har-
mony, commerce, art, and fcience, with every
advantage of cultivated fcience. — To complain
that there is pain in the moral world, is as un-
reafonable, and as abfurd, as to complain that
there is darknefs in the phyfical; as all cannot be
light in the one, fo neither can all be pleafure in
the other. — It is enough if pleafure preponderate ;

and that point has been already eftablifhed.

# *

THE

GOVERNMENT. 355

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A FREE AND A

DESPOTIC GOVERNMENT.

THE difference between a free and a defpotic
ftate, confifts in the manner in which that whole
mafs of power, which, taken together, is fupreme,
is, in a free ftate, diftributed among the feveral
ranks of perfons that are (harers in it : — in the
fource from whence their titles to it are fuccef-
fively derived : — in the frequent and eafy changes
of condition between the governors and governed;
whereby the interefts of one clafs are more or lefs
indiftinguifhably blended with thofe of the other:
— in the refponfibility of the governors-; or the
right which a fubjeft has of having the reafons
publicly affigned and canvafied of every a£l of
power that is exerted over him : — in the liberty
of the prefs ; or the fecurity with which every
man, be he of the one clafs or the other, may
make known his complaints and remonftrances to
the whole community: — in the liberty of public
aflbciations ; or the fecurity with which malcon-
tents may communicate their fentiments, concert
their plans, and pra£tife "every mode of oppofition
ihort of aclual revolt, before the executive power
can be juitined in difturbing them.

JER. BENTHAM.

G g 3 RESIST-

254 GOVERNMENT.

RESISTANCE TO GOVERNMENT.

IT is then, and not till then, allowable to, if
not incumbent on every man, as well on the fcore
of duty as of intereft, to enter into meafures of re-
fiftance ; when,, according to the beft calculation
he can make, the probable rnifchiefs of refiftance
(fpeaking with refpec"l to the community in ge-
neral), appear lefs to him than the probable mil-
chiefs of fubmiflion. This then is to him, that is,
to each man in particular, the juncture of refiit-
ance. A natural queftion here is, — By what fign
{hall this juncture be known ? By wh?.t common
Cgnal alike confpicuous to all ? A common fign.
there is none. Every man muft be determined
by his own internal perfuafion of a balance of uti-
lity on the fide of refiftance ; for utility is the tefl
and meafure of loyalty. — It may be faid, that the
letter of the law is the meafure of government in
free ilates ; and not that other loofe and general
rule, To govern in fubfervience to the happinefs
of the people. True it is, that the. governing in
oppofition to the law is one way of governing in
oppofition to the happinefs of the people: the na-
tural effect of fuch a contempt of the law being,
if not actually to deftroy, at leaft to threaten with
deftruction, all thofe rights and privileges that are
founded on it ; rights and privileges, on the en-
joyment,

GOVERNMENT.

joyment of which that happinefs depends. But
itill this is not fufficient; and that for feveral rea-
fons. /•>>/?, ^Becaufe the mod mifchievous, and
under fome conftkutions the mofl feafible, me-
thod of governing in opposition to the happinefs
of the people, is, by fetting the law itfelf in op-
pofition to their happinefs. — Secondly, Becaufe it
is a cafe very conceivable, that a king may, to a
great degree, impair the happinefs of his people
without violating the letter of any fingle law.
Thirdly, Becaufe extraordinary occafions may now
and then occur, in which the happineis of the
people may be better promoted by acting, for the
moment, in oppofition to the lav/, than hi fubfer-
vience to it. Fourthly, Becaufe it is not any fingle
violation of the law, as fuch, that can rcleafe the
people from allegiance ; for it is fcarce ever any
fingle violation of the law that, by being fubmit-
ted to, can produce fo much mifchief as (hall fur-
pafs the probable mifchief of refilling it. If every
Cngle inftance whatever of fuch violation were to
be deemed an entire releafe from allegiance, a
man, who reflects at all, would fcarce find any-
where under the fun, that government which he
could allow to fubfifl for twenty years together.
Utility then is the teft and meafure of all govern-
ment ; and the obligation of governors of every
denomination to minifter to general happinefs, is
an obligation fuperior to, and inclufive of every

other.

GOVERNMENT

other. This is the reafon why kings, on the one
hand, fhould in general keep within eftabliihett
laws ; and, to fpeak universally, abftain from all
fuch meafures as tend to the unhappinefs of their
fubjects : and, on the other hand, why fubjects
Should obey kings as long as they fo conduct them-
felves, and no longer ; why they fhould obey, in
fhort, fo long as the probable mifchiefs of obedi-
ence are lefs than the probable mifehiefs of refifl>
cnce: why, in a word, taking the whole body to-
gether, it is their duty to obey juft fo long as it is
their uitereft, and no longer — where a ftate is li-
mited by exprefs convention, as the German Em-
pire, Dutch Provinces) Swifs Cantons, and the
ancient Achaean league. There we may be fur-
nifhed with a common figrial of refiftance. A
certain act is in the instrument of convention fpe-
eifted, with refpect to which, the government is
therein precluded from ifiuing a law to a certain
effect. A law is iflued to that effect notwith—
{landing. The ifluing then of fuch a law (the
fenfe of it, and likewife the fenfe of that part of
the convention which provides againft it, being
fuppofed clear) is a fact notorious and vifible to
all : in the iffuing then of fuch a law we have a
fact which is capable of being taken for that com-
mon fignal of refiftance, Thefe bounds the fu-
preme body has marked out to its authority: of
fuch a demarcation, then> what is the efFeft ? Ei-

tlier

GOVERNMENT. 357

tTier none at all ; or this, that the difpofition to
obedience confines itfelf within thefe bounds. Be-
yond them die difpofition is (lopped from extend-
ing : beyond them the fubjecl: is no more prepa-
red to obey the governing body of his own ftate,
than that of any other. No convention, how-
ever, fhould prevent what the parties affetled (hall
deem a reformation : no difeafe in a flate fhould
be without its remedy. Such might by fome be
thought the cafe, where that fupreme body, which
in fuch a convention was one of the contracting
parties, having incorporated itfelf with that which
was the other, no longer fubfuls to give any new
modification to the engagement. Although that
body itfelf which contracted the engagement be
no more, a larger body, from whence the firfl is
underflood to have derived its title, may flill fub-
fift. Let this larger body be confulted. Various
are the ways that might be conceived of doing
this •, and that without any difparagement to the
dignity of the fubfiiling legiflature: of doing it to
fuch effect., as that, fhould die fenfe of fuch lar-
ger body be favourable to the alteration, it may
be made by a lawj which, in this cafe, neither
ought to be, nor probably would be, regarded by
the people as a breach of the convention.

JER.

358 GOVERNMENT.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

RANK, privileges, and prerogatives in a flate,
are conftituted for the good of the (late ; and
thofe who enjoy them, whether they be called
kings, fenators, or nobles, or by whatever names
or titles they be diflinguifhed, are, to all intents
and purpofes, the fervants of the public, and ac-
countable to the people for the difcharge of their
refpective offices. If fuel; mngiflratcs abufe their
truft, in the people lies the right of dtpcfcigy and
confequently of puniihing them. And the only
reafon why abufes which have crept into offices
have been connived at, is, that the corre&ing
them, by having recourfe to firft principles, is far
from being eafy, except in fmall dates ; fo that
the remedy would often be worfe than the dif-
eafe. But, in the largefl dates, if the abufes of
government mould at any time be great and ma-
nifeft ; if the fervants of the people, forgetting
their mafters, and their mafters intereft, fhould
purfue a feparate one of their own; if, inflead of
confidering that they are made for the people,
they mould confider the people as made for them;
if the opprefTions and violations of right fhould
be great, flagrant, and univerfully refdnted; if, in
confequence of thefe circumftances, it mould be-
come marJfeftj that the riik which would be run

in

GOVERNMENT. 359

an attempting a revolution would be trifling, and
the evils which might be apprehended from it,
Tvere far lefs than thofe which were actually fuf-
fered, and which were daily increafing ; what
principles are thofe which ought to reftrain an in-
jured and infulted people from afferting their na-
tural rights, and from changing, or even punifh-
ing their governors, that is, their fervants, who
had abufed their truft ; or from altering the whole
form of their government, if it appeared to be of
a ftructure fo liable to abufe? It will be faid, that
it is opening a door to rebellion, to aflert that ma-
giftrates abufing their power may be fet afide by
the people, who are of courfe their own judges
when their power is abufed. May not the people,
it is faid, abufe their power as well as their go-
vernors ? I anfwer, It is very poflible they may
abufe their power: it is poflible they may imagine
themfelves opprefled when they are not : it is pof-
fible their animofity may be artfully and unrea-
fonably inflamed by ambitious aaid enterprifing
men, whofe views are often beft anfwered by po-
pular tumults and infurre&ions ; and the people
may fuffer in confequence of their folly and pre-
cipitancy: But what man is there, or what body
of men (whofe right to direct their own conduct
was never called in queftion) but are liable to be
impofed upon, and to fuffer in confequence of their
miftaken apprehenfions and precipitate conduct ?

With

360 GOVERNMENT.

With refpeft to large focieties, it is very im-
probable rhat the people mould be too foon alarm-
ed, fo as to be driven to thefe extremities. In
fuch cafes, the power of the government, that is,
of the governors, muft be very extenfive and ar-
bitrary; and the power of the people fcattered
and difficult to be united ; fo that if a man have
common fenfe, he will fee it to be madnefs to pro-
pofe, or to lay any meafures againft the govern-
ment, except in cafe of very general and great op-
preflion. Even patriots, in fuch circumstances,
will confider that prefent evils always appear
greater in confequence of their being prefent;
but that the future evils of a revolt, and a tem-
porary anarchy, may be much greater than are
apprehended at a diftance. They will alfo confi-
der, that unlefs their meafures be perfectly well
laid, and their fuccefs decifive, ending in a change,
not of men, but of things ; not of governors, but
of the rules and adminift ration of government, they
will only rivet their chains the fafter, and bring
upon themfelves and their country tenfold ruin.

So obvious are thefe difficulties that lie in the
way of procuring redrefs of grievances by force
of arms, that I think we may fay, without excep-
tion, that in all cafes of hoftile oppofition to go-
vernment, the people muft have been in the right;
and that nothing but very great oppreffion could
drive them to fuch defperate meafures. The bulk

3 °f

GOVERNMENT.

of a people fcldom fo much as complain without
reafon, becaufe they never think of complaining
till they feel ; fo that in all cafes of diflatisfac-
tion with government, it is mod probable that the
people are injured. The cafe, I own, may be
otherwife in dates of fmall extent, where the
power of the governors is comparatively fmall,
and the power of the people great and foon uni-
ted. If it be afked, how far a people may law-
fully go in punifhing their chief magiftrates? I an-
fwer, that if the enormity of the offence (which
is of the fame extent as. the injury done to the
public) be confidered, any punifhment is juftifi-
able that a man can incur in human fociety. It
may be faid, there are no laws to punifh thofe
governors, and we muft not condemn perfons by
laws made ex pqft fafto ,• for this conduct will
vindicate the mod obnoxious meafures of the moft
tyrannical adminidration. But I anfwer, that this
is a cafe, in its own nature, prior to the eftablifh-
ment of any laws whatever; as it affefts ihe very
being of fociety, and defeats the principal ends
for which recourfe was originally had to it. There
inay be no fixed law againd an open invader who
ihould attempt to feize upon a county with a
view to enfiave all its inhabitants ; but mud not
the invader be apprehended, and even put to
death, though he hath broken no exprefs law then
in being, or none of which he was properly ap-
VOL. I. 2 Hh prifed?

362 GOVERNMENT.

prifed ? And why mould a man, who takes the
advantage of being king, or governor, to fubvert
the laws and liberties of his country, be confidered
in any other light than that of a foreign invader ?
Nay, his crime is much more atrocious ; as he
was appointed the guardian of the laws and li-
berties which he fubverts, and which he was
therefore under the ftrongeft obligation to main-
tain. In a cafe, therefore, of this highly crimi-
nal nature, Salus populi fuprema ejl lex ; " That
" muft be done which the good of the whole re-
" quires:" and generally kings depofed, banimed,
or imprifoned, are highly dangerous to a nation;
becaufe, let them have governed ever fo ill, it will
be the intereft of fome to be their partifans, and
to attach themfelves to their caufe. So plain are
thefe firft principles of all government that they
mud overcome the meaneft prejudices, and carry
conviction to every man. Whatever be the form
of any government, whoever be the fupreme ma-
giftrates, or whatever be their 'number j that is,
to whomfoever the power of the fociety is dele-
gated, their authority is in its own nature rever-
Cble. No man can be fuppofed to refign his na-
tural liberty, but on conditions. Thefe condi-
tions, whether they be exprefied or not, muft be
violated, whenever the plain and obvious ends of
government are not anfwered ; and a delegated
power, perverted from the intention for -which it

GOVERNMENT. 363

was beftowed,^ expires of courfe. Magiftrates,
therefore, who confult not the good of the pub-
lic, and who employ their power to opprefs the
people, are a public nuifance ; and their power is
abrogated ipfo fafto. This, however, can only be
the cafe in extreme oppreffion, when the bleffings
of fociety and civil government, great and im~
portant as they are, are bought too dear ; when it
is better not to be governed at all, than to be go-
verned in fuch a manner ; or, at leaft, when the
hazard of a change of government would be ap-
parently the lefs evil of the two ; and, therefore,
thefe occafions rarely occur in the courfe of hu-
man affairs : but where they do occur, refiftance
is a duty, and a regard to the good of fociety will
certainly juflify this conduct of the people.

PR.IESTLEY.

CIVIL GOVERNMENT.

WHETHER government be the appointment
of a pretended religion-, whether originating with
the Patriarchs; or owing to a focial compact?-— •
are not matters worthy of inquiry. If it produce
happinefs at home, and be juft and beneficent
to all the world ; it is good, it is valuable, and
(hould be fupported : If it be otherwife ; if it rei>
der people corrupt, depraved, and miferable ; if
it be unjuft and oppreiuve to its dependants and
H h 2 neigh-

054 GOVERNMENT.

*? •

neighbours; its origin is not worth inveftigating:
for, be its dcfcent what it may, it is an injury,
and an evil, and a curfe ; and mankind may and
ought to treat it as fuch.

WILLIAMS.

GOVERNMENT.

HAD every man fufficient fagacity to perceive,
at all times, the ftrong intereft which binds him.
to the observance of juftice and equity, and
ftrength of mind fufficient to perfevere in a fteady
adherence to a general and a diftincl intereft, in
oppofition to die allurements of prefent pleafure
and advantage ; there had never, in that cafe,
been any fuch thing as government or political fo-
ciety; but each man, following his natural liberty,
had lived in entire peace with all others. What
need of pofidve laws, where natural juftice is of
itfelf a fuflicient reftraint ? Why create magi-
ftrates, where there never arifes any diforder or
iniquity ? Why abridge our native freedom, when,
in every inftance, the utmoft exertion of it is
found innocent and beneficial ? It is evident, that
if government were totally ufelefs, it never could
have place ; and that the fole foundation of the
duty of allegiance is the advantage which it pro-
cures to fociety, by preferving peace and order
among mankind. As the obligation to juftice 19

founded

GOVERNMENT. 365

founded entirely on the interefts of fociety, which
require mutual abftirtence from property, in or-
der to preferve peace among mankind ; it is evi-
dent, that when the execution of juftice would be
attended with very pernicious confequences, that
virtue muft be fufpended, and give place to
public utility, in fuch extraordinary and prefling
emergencies. The maxim, Fiat juftitia et ruat
calwn, " Let juftice be performed, though the uni-
verfe be deftroyed," is apparently falfe ; and by
facrificing the end to the means, fhows a prepo-
flerous idea of the fubordination of duties. What
governor of a town makes any fcruple of burning
the fuburbs, when they facilitate the advances of
the enemy ? Or what general abftains from plun-
dering a neutral country, when the neceflities of
war require it, and he cannot otherwife main-
tain his army ? The cafe, is the fame with the
duty of allegiance; and common fenfe teaches us,
that as government binds us to obedience only
on account of its tendency to public utility, that
duty muft always, in extraordinary cafes, when
public ruin would evidently attend obedience,
yield *o the primary and original obligation. Sa-
lus pcpulifuprema. lex ; " The fafety of the people
is the fupreme law." This maxim is agreeable- to
the fentiments of mankind in all ages. Accord-
ingly we may obferve, that no nation, that could
find any remedy, ever yet fuffered the cruel ra-
H h 3 vages

GOVERNMENT.

vages of a tyrant, or were blamed for their refift-
ance. Thofe who took up arms againft Diony-
fuis or Nero, or Philip II. have the favour of
every reader in the perufal of their hiftory ; and
nothing but die moft -violent perverfion of com-
mon fenfe can ever lead us to condemn them.
Government is a mere human invention for the
intereft of focietyj and where the tyranny of the
governor removes this intereft, it alfo removes
the obligation to obedience. Refiftance, there-
fore, being admitted in extraordinary cafes, the
queftion can only be with regard to the de-
gree of neceflity which can juflify refiftance, and
render it lawful and commendable j which can
only be in defperate cafes, when the public is in
the higheft danger from violence and tyranny.
For befides the mifchiefs of a civil war, which
commonly attend infurrettions, it is certain
that, where a difpofition to rebellion appears
among any people, it is one chief caufe of tyranny
in the rulers. Thus the tyrannicide or aiTaffina-
tion approved of by ancient maxims, inftead of
keeping tyrants and ufurptrs in awe, made them
ten times more fierce and unrelenting; and is
now juftly, on that account, abolifhed by the laws
of nations. HUME.

GOVERNMENT. 367

1 ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

THE general good is the end of all jufl govern*
ment ; and all the. rules of conduct agreed upon,
all the ftatutes, laws, and precepts enacted and
promulgated, are made with a view to promote
and fecure the public good : and therefore the
very nature and defign of government requires
•new laws to be made, whenever it is found that
the old ones are not fufficient j and old ones to be
repealed, whenever they are found to be mif-
chievous in their operation. If the eflential parts
of any fyftem of civil government are found to
be inconfiftent with the general good, the end
of government requires that fueh bad fyftem
fhould be demolifhed, and a new one formed, by
which the public weal (hall be more effectually
fecured. And further, if, under any conftitution
of government, the adminiftration ihould vary
from the fundamental defign of promoting and
fecuring the common goodj in fuch cafe the fub-
jects are in duty bound to join all their ftrength
to reduce matters to their original good order.

LAYTHROP'S Sermon at Bcflon.

PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT.

TO begin with firft principles, we muft, for
die fake of gaining clear ideas on the fubje&> do

what

36% GOVERNMENT.

what almoil all political writers have done before
us ; that is, we muft fuppofe a number of people
exifting, who experience the inconvenience of
Jiving independent and unconnected ; who . are
expofed without redrefs to infults and wrongs of
various kinds, and are too weak to procure them-
felves many of the advantages which they are
fenfible might eafily be compafTed by united
ilrength. Thefe people, if they would engage
the protection of the whole body,1 and join their
force in enterprifes and undertakings calculated
for the common good, muft voluntarily refiga
fome part of their natural liberty, and fubmk
their conduct to the direction of die community:
for without thefe conceptions, fuch an alliance,
attended with fuch advantages, could not be
formed. Were thefe people few in number, and
living within frnall diilances of one another, it
might be eafy for. them to aflemble upon every
occafion, in which the whole body was concern-
ed ; and every thing might be determined by the
votes of the majority, provided they had previou-fly
agreed the votes of the majority to be decifive.
But were the fociety numerous, their habitations
remote, and the occafions on which the whole
body mult interpofe frequent, it would be abfo-
lutely impoffible that all the members of the ftate
(hould aflemble, or give th'eir attention to public
bufinefs. In this cafe, though, with Roufleau^ it

be

GOVERNMENT. 369

be giving up their liberty, there mud be deputies
or pubHc officers appointed to ac"l in name of the
whole body ; and, in a (late of very great extent,
where all the people could never be aflembled,
the whole power of the community muft necef-
farily, and almoft irreverfibly, be lodged in the
hands of thefe deputies. It may be faid, no fc-
ciety on earth was ever formed in the manner re-
-prefented above. I anfwer, it is true 5 becaufe all
governments whatever have been in fome mea-
fure compulfory, tyrannical, and oppreflive in
their origin j but the method I have defcribed
rnuft be allowed to be the only equitable and fair
method of forming a fociety. And fince every
man retains, and can never be deprived of his natu-
ral right (founded on a regard to the general good)
of relieving himfelf from all oppreffion, that is,
from every thing that has been impofed upon him
without his own confent ; this muft be the only
true and proper foundation of all the govern-
ments fubfifting in the world, and that to which
the people who compofe them have an unalien-
able right to bring them back. It muft necefTa-
rily be underftood, then, whether it be exprefled
or not, that all people live in fociety for their mu-
tual advantage; fo that the good and happinefs of
the members, that is, the majority of the mem-
bers, of any ftate, is the great ftandard by which
every thing relating to that ftate muft finally be

deter-

37$ GOVERNMENT.

determined. And though it may be fuppofed,
that a body of people may be bound by a volun-
tary refignation of all their intereils to a fmgle
perfon, or to a few, it can never be fuppofed that
the refignation is obligatory on their poflerity;
becaufe it is manifeftly contrary to the good of the
iu hole that itjbou'd be fo. In treating of particu-
lar regulations in dates, this principle muft necef-
farily obtrude itfelf ; all arguments in favour o£
any law being always drawn from a conii deration
of its tendency to promote the public good. Vir*
tue and right conduct confift in thofe affections
and actions which terminate in general utility^
juftice and veracity, for inftance, having nothing
intrinfically excellent in them, feparate from their
relation to the happinefs of mankind; and the
whole fyftem of right to power, property, and
every thing elfe in fociety, muft be regulated by
the fame confideration : the decifive queftion,
when any of thefe fubje&s are: examined, be-
ing, What is it that the good of the community
requires ?.

PRIESTLEY.

END os THE FIRST VOLUME.

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