*

JAMES BJEATTIE-

AN

ESSAY
ON THE

NATURE AND IMMUTABILITY

OF

TRUTH,
IN OPPOSITION TO

SOPHISTRY AND SCEPTICISM.

BY JAMES BEATTIE,

LL.D.

PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY AND LOGIC IN THE MARISCHAt

COLLEGE AND UNIVERSITY OF ABERDEEN.

NVNQFAM ALIVD NXTURA, ALIUD SAPIENTIA

DIGIT.

JUVEXAT,,

EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FORDENHAM

& DICK,

NO. 19.

COLLEGE STREET,

BY THOMAS TURNBULL, CANONGATE,

THE

NTENT

C O

S.

Page.

INTRODUCTION,

PART

I.

OF THE STANDARD OF TRUTH

CHAP.
Of the

Perception

I.

of Truth

H A

20

in

general

21

II.

All reasoning terminates in first princi

ples. All evidence ultimately intuitive.

Common
man

sense the standard

of

truth

35

to

Of Mathematical Reasoning,. ...

Of the evidence of External

Sect. 1.

Sect. 2.

Sense,
Sect. 3.

40

Of the evidence

of Internal Sensey

or Consciousness,
Sect. 4.
the evidence
Sect. 5.

Of
Of Reasoning from

of Memory, ....

Of

65
Probable

or

Experimental

%
Reasoning,
Sect. 7- Of
Analogical Reasoning,
Sect. 8. Of Faith in
Testimony,
Sect. 9. Conclusion
of this Chapter.
Further Proof.
General remarks on

Scepticism,

45
59

the effect to

the cause,
Sect. 6.

3G

78
82
84

90

A.

CONTENTS^

P A R T

II.

Page.

ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRECEDING DOC

TRINE, WITH INFERENCES,

C
Confirmation
Practice,
Sect. 1.

Sect. 2.
Sect. 3.

of

H A
this

P.

100-

I.

Doctrine from the

Of Mathematicians,
Of Natural Philosophers,
The subject continued.

Truths distinguishable

102"

110

Intuitive

Into Classes,

CHAP.

....

133>

II.

This Doctrine rejected by Sceptical Philo

sophers,
Sect. 1. General Observations.

Rise and

Of
Scepticism.
progress of
Des Cartes and Malebranche. Locke
and Berkeley. General view of
Hume s Theory of the UnderstandModern

Mr

ing,
Sect. 2.

Sect. 3,

Of the non-existence of Matter

Of Liberty and Necessity
,

CHAP.
Recapitulation
of Truth,

>

171
193

III.

and Inference.

PART

149

Criterion

HI,

OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. ......

240

CONTENTS,

CHAP.

I.

The principles of this Essay consistent with

the interests of Science, and the rights
of mankind. Imperfection of the Schoollogic,

".

H A

P.

245

>

II.

Estimate of Metaphysic
Metaphysical writers.
Causes of the present degeneracy of

The

subject continued.

and

Moral

261

Science,

CHAP.

III.

Consequences of Metaphysical Scepticism,

POSTSCRIPT,

,.

,..,

...

.......

INTRODUCTION.
who
learning
TO those
more ambitious
love

and mankind, and

who

to distinguish themselves as

are

as disputants, it is matter of humiliation and

names and things have so oft been mista
regret, that
ken for each other ; that so much of the philosopher s
time must be employed in ascertaining the signification

men, than

of words ; and that so many doctrines, of high^ repu

when traced to their first
tation, and of ancient date,
been found to terminate in verbal am
principles, have
If I have any knowledge of my own heart,
biguity.
or of the subject I propose to examine, I may venture
to assure the reader, that it is no part of the design of
On the
this book, to encourage verbal disputation.
to avoid, and to do
contrary, it is my sincere purpose
it ; convinced as I
check
to
in
my power
every thing
am, that it never can do any good, and that it has been
the cause of much evil, both in philosophy and in com

mon
it,

And

life.

hope

have a

fairer chance to escape

in this part of

some who have gone before me

than

aim

no paradoxes

;
my prejudices (If
of the understanding
may be so called ) are all in favour of truth and virtue ;
and I have no principles to support, but those which
seem to me to have influenced the judgment of a great
majority of mankind in all ages of the world.
Some readers may think, that there is but little me

science.

rit

at

instinctive

certain

suggestions

in this declaration

it

being as

much

for

my own

credit, as for the interest of

gainst a practice, which

is

mankind, that I guard aacknowledged to be always

verbal dis
unprofitable, and generally pernicious.
what claim can he have to the title of philo
putant
!

what has he to do with the laws of nature,

sopher
with the observation of facts, with life and manners
Let him not intrude upon the company of men of
science ; but repose with his brethren
Aquinas and
Suarex, in the corner of some Gothic cloister, dark as
!

INTRODUCTION.

his understanding, and cold as Iris heart. Men are

become too judicious to be amused with words, and too
nt>w

to be

firm-minded

confuted with quibbles.

Many

of

contemporaries would readily join in this apo

strophe, who yet are themselves the dupes of the most
egregious dealers in logomachy that ever perverted the
In fact, from some instances that
faculty of speech.
have occurred to my own observation, I have reason
to believe, that verbal controversy has not always,
even in this age, been accounted a contemptible thing :
and the reader, when he comes to be better acquainted
with my sentiments, will perhaps think the foregoing
declaration more disinterested than at iirst sight it may

my

appear.

They who form opinions concerning the manners

and principles of the times, may be divided into three

Some

classes.

will tell us, that the present age tran

have gone before it, in politeness,

learning, and good sense ; will thank Providence (or
their stars) that their lot of life has been cast in so
glorious a period ; and wonder how men could support
scends

all

that

existence amidst the ignorance and barbarism of former

By others we are accounted a generation of
days.

and profligates ; sciolists in learning, hypocrites

in virtue, and formalists in good -breeding ; wise only
when w e follow the ancients, and foolish whenever we
Sentiments so violent are gener
deviate from them.
triflers

am disposed to adopt the

considered as forming an
intermediate class ; who, though not blind to the fol
lies, are yet willing to acknowledge the virtues, both
of past ages, and of the present. And surely, in every
to praise,
age, and in every man, there is something
as well as something to blame.
When I survey the philosophy of the present age, I
Ma
find much matter of applause and admiration.
Natural
and
Natural
thematics,
History,
Philosophy,
ia all their branches, have risen to a pitch of perfection,
that does signal honour to human capacity, and far sur-

ally

wrong

and therefore

notions of those

who may be

INTRODUCTION.

the most sanguine projectors of former times

passes what
had any reason to took for and the paths to further im
are so clearly marked out, that
provement in those sciences
:

and attention seems requisite to en~

nothing but honesty
ad venturers. Moral Philosophy
future
of
success
sure the
and Logic have not been so fortunate. Yet, even here, we
have happily got rid of much pedantry and jargon ; our
of liberal senti
systems have more the appearance
ments, good taste, and correct composition, than those
ef the schoolmen ; we disclaim (at least in words) allattachment to hypothesis and party ; profess to study

and as
things, as well as books and words ;
of
utmost
vehemence
the
with
protestation, our
sert,
love o truth, of candour, and of sound philosophy,
Bat let us net be deceived by appearances. Neither
Moral Philosophy, nor the kindred sciences of Logic
and Criticism, are at present upon the most desjrable
The rage of paradox and system has tro.n~
footing.
formed them (although of all sciences these ought to
be the simplest and the clearest) into a mass of confu
One kind of jargon is
sion, darkness, and absurdity.
laid aside ; but another has been adopted, more fashi
onable indeed, but not less frivolous.
Hypothesis^
though verbally disclaimed, is really adhered to with
as much obstinacy as ever.
Words have been defined,
but their meaning still remains indefinite.
Appeab
have been made to experience ; but with such misre
presentation of fact, and in such equivocal language, as
plainly shew the authors to have been more concerned
for their theory, than for the truth.
All sciences, and

men and

especially

Moral Philosophy, ought

is
regulated by

to regulate

human

principles, and all

principles suppose conviction yet the aim of our most
celebrated moral systems is, to divest the mind of every
practice

practice

principle, and of all conviction ; and, consequently, to

man for action, and to render him as useless,

disqualify

and as wretched, as possible.

In a word, SCEPTICISM
is now the
profession of every fashionable inquirer intc
2

1C

IKTRODUCTION.

human nature ; a scepticism which is not confined ta

points of mere speculation, but has been extended to
practical truths of the highest importance, even to the
principles of morality and religion. Proofs of all these
assertions will appear in the
seqrtel.
I said

that

haps

my

prejudices are all in favour of truth

s.ort of prejudice,
m^y per
readers.
If it should, 1 must here

To avow any

and virtue.
startle

some

intreat all such to pause a moment, and ask of their

own hearts these simple questions Are virtue and
:

truth useful to mankind

difference

Or

Are they matters of

are they pernicious

If

any one

in

finds

himself disposed to think them pernicious, or matters

of indifference, I would advise him to lay my book
aside ; for it does not contain one sentiment in which
he can be interested ; nor one expression with which
he can be pleased.
But he who believes that virtue
and truth are of the highest importance, that in them
is laid the foundation of human happinebs, and that on
them depends the very existence of human society, and
of human creatures,
that person and I are of the
same mind I have no prejudices that he would wish
me not to have he may proceed ; and I hope he will
proceed with pleasure, and encourage, by his approba
tion, this honest attempt to vindicate truth and virtue ;
and to overturn that pretended philosophy which sup
poses, or which may lead us to suppose, every dictate
of conscience, every impulse of understanding, anclevery information of sense, questionable and ambiguous.
This sceptical philosophy (as it is called) seems to
me to be dangerous, not because it is ingenious, but
;

Were it rightly un
it is subtle and obscure.
for it
derstood, no confutation would be necessary
does in fact, confute itself, as I hope to demonstrate..
But many, to my certain knowledge, have read it, and
admitted its tenets, who do not understand the grounds
of them ; and
more, swayed by the fashion of the

because

many

times, have greedily adopted its conclusions, without

any knowledge of the premises, or any concern about

It

INTRODUCTION.

An

attempt therefore to expose this pretended^

view, in its proper colours, will
philosophy
as impertinent by any whose
censured
be
net, I hope,
if it should, I shall be satisfied with
value
I
opinion
the approbation of my own conscience, which will ne
ver reproach me for intending, to do good.
J am sorry, that in the course of this inquiry, it will
not always be in my power to speak of some celebrated
names with that deference, to whkh superior talents^
and superior virtue, are always entitled. Every friend
to civil and religious liberty, every lover of mankind,
every admirer of sincerity and simple manners, every
heart that warms at the recollection of distinguished
virtue, must consider LOCKE as one of the most amiable^
and most illustrious men, that ever our nation pro
Such he is, such he will ever be,, in my esti
duced.
The parts of his philosophy to which truth
mation*
me
to object, are but few, and,- compared with
obliges
the extent and importance of his other writings, ex
I object to them, because I
tremely inconsiderable.
think them erroneous and dangerous ; and I am con*
vinced, that their author, if he had lived to see the in
ferences that have been drawn from them, would have
been the first to declare them absurd, and would have
expunged them from his works with indignation BERKELEY was equally amiable in his life, and equally
a friend to truth and virtue. In elegance of composition
he was perhaps superior.
I admire his virtues
I c?,n
never sufficiently applaud his zeal in the cause of reli
gion but some of his reasonings on the subject of hu
man nature I cannot admit, without renouncing my
claim to rationally
There is a writer now alive, of
whose philosophy I have much to say. By his -philo
sophy, I mean the sentiments he has published in a

them.

to public

book called,
Treatise of Human Nature^ in three
volumes, printed in the year 1739 ; the principal and
most
of which he has since
repubdangerous doctrines
lished again, and again, under the title
of, Essays Mo
ral aad Political, 13 c.
Of his other works I say no-

INTRODUCTION.

12

thing ; nor have 1 at present any concern with them.

Vr irgil is said to have been a bad prose- writer ; Cicero
was certainly a bad poet and this author,
not
:

much acquainted with human

though

nature, and therefore not

well qualified to write a treatise upon it, may yet be

an excellent politician, financier, and historian. His
merit in these three respects is indeed generally allow
ed and if my suffrage could add any thing to the lustre
of his reputation, 1 should here, with great sincerity
and pleasure, join my voice to that of the public, and
make such an encomium on the author-of the History
of England as would not offend any of his rational ad
But why is this author s character so replete
mirers.
with inconsistency
why should his principles and his
talents extort at once our esteem and detestation, our
That he, whose manners in
applause and contempt
private life are said to be so agreeable to many of his
acquaintance, should yet in the public capacity of an
author, have given so much cause of just offence to all
the friends of virtue and mankind, is to me, matter of
astonishment and sorrow, as well as of indignation.
That he, who succeeds so well in describing the fates
of nations, should yet have failed so egregiously in ex
plaining the operations of the mind, is one of those in:

for which perhaps philo

congruities in human genius,
be
able fully to account.
That he,
never
will
sophy
who has so impartially stated the opposite pleas and

should yet have aprinciples of our political factions,

illiberal prejudices against natural and
most
the
dopted
that he, who on some occasions has
revealed religion
:

should at other
displayed even a profound erudition,
times when intoxicated with a favourite theory, have
suffered affirmations to escape him, which would have
fixed the opprobrious name of Sciolist on a less cele
brated author and finally, that a moral philosopher,
who seems to have exerted his utmost ingenuity in
should yet happen to light
searching after paradoxes,
are
as
but
such
on none,
all, without exception, on the
:

side of licentiousness

and scepticism ;-~these are incon-

INTRODUCTION.

13

perhaps equally Inexplicable ; atledstthey

And
I do not at present chuse to explain.
this author is chargeable with all these incon
that
yet,
of
sistencies, will not, I think, be denied by any person
with
at
his
read
has
who
writings
sense and candour,
Its
His philosophy has done great harm,
tention.
admirers, J. know, are very numerous ; but 1 have not
met with one person, who both admired and un
as

sistencies

are such as

yet
are prone to believe what we wish
derstood it.
of this author s philosophical
most
and
true
to be
tenets are so well adapted to what I fear I may call the
fashionable notions of the times, that those who are
ambitious to conform to the latter, will hardly be dis
the for
posed to examine scrupulously the evidence of
which
I do in
this
made
mer.
declaration,
Having
the spirit of an honest man, i must take the liberty to
treat this author with that plainness, which the cause
of truth, the interests of society, and my own con
The same candour that prompts me
science, require.
The incon*
to praise, will also oblige me to blame.
Had
I
done
is not in me, but in him.
but half
sistency
as much as he, in labouring to subvert principles which
ought ever to be held sacred, I know not whether the

We

would have granted me any indulgence

sure they ought not.
Let me be treated with the
to
a
due
no longer than I act as be
citizen,
lenity
good
comes one.
If it shall be acknowledged by the candid and intelli
friends of truth
I

am

gent reader, that I have in this book contributed some

thing to the establishment of old truths, I shall not be
much offended, though others should pretend to discover
that I have advanced nothing new.
Indeed I would
not wish to say any thing on these subjects, that has
not often occurred to the common sense of mankind.
In Logic and Morals, we may have new treatises, and

new

theories

veries.

The

but

we

principles

now

new disco
of moral duty have long been un

are not

to expect

derstood in these enlightened parts of the world ; and

mankind, in the time that is past, have had more tenth

INTRODUCTION.

14

under

their consideration, than

they will probably have
in the time to come.
Yet he who makes these sciences

the study of his life, may perhaps collect

particulars
concerning their evidence, which though known to a
few, are unknown to many ; may set some principles in
a more striking light than that in which
they have been
formerly viewed ; may devise methods of confuting
ne v errors, and exposing new paradoxes ; and
may hit
upon a more popular way of displaying what has hith
erto been exhibited in too dark and
mysterious a form*
It is commonly allowed, that the science of human
nature is of all human sciences the most curious and
To know ourselves, is a precept whichimportant.
the wise in all ages have recommended, and which is
Can
enjoined by the authority of revelation itself.
any thing be of more consequence to man, than to
know what is his duty, and how he may arrive at hap
piness ? It is from the examination of his own heart
that he receives the first intimations of the one, and
the only sure criterion of the other.
What can be
more useful, more delightful, and more sublime, than
to contemplate the Deity ? It is in the works of nature,
particularly in the constitution of the human soul, that
we discern the first and most conspicuous traces of the

without some previous acquaintance

Almighty ;
with our own moral nature, we could not have any cerDestitute of the hope of im
tain knowledge of His
mortality, and a future retribution, how contemptible,
how miserable is man And yet, did not our moral
feelings, in concert with what reason discovers of the
for

Deity, evidence the necessity of a future state, in vain

should we pretend to judge rationally of that revelation
by which life and immortality have been brought to
light.

How

then

is

manner are we

this

science

to be learned

human

nature

In

what

Doubtless by
examining our own hearts and feelings, and by attend
But are not the
ing to the conduct of other men.
of
useful
towards
the attainment
writings
philosophers
to study

INTRODUCTION

IJ

Most certainly they arc for whatever

of this science
of
the
sagacity of judgment, the sensibility
improves
or the delicacy of taste ; whatever
moral
?

perception,
renders our knowledge of moral and intellectual facts,
more extensive ; whatever impresses our minds with
more enlarged and more powerful sentiments of duty,

with more aifecting views of God and Providence, and

with greater energy of belief in the doctrines of natural
every thing of this sort either makes us
religion
more thoroughly acquainted, or prepares us for becomingmore thoroughly acquainted with our ownnature,and
with that of other beings, and with the relations which
But I fear we shall
they and we bear to one another.
not be able to improve ourselves in any one of these
;

by reading the modern systems of scepticism.

account then are we to make of those systems
and their authors ? The following Dissertation is parti/
But it has a
designed a* an answer to this question.
further view which is, to examine the foundations of
this scepticism, and see whether these be consistent
with what ail mankind must acknowledge to be the
foundations of truth to inquire, whether the cultiva
tion of scepticism be salutary or pernicious to science and
mankind and whether it may not be possible to devise
certain criteria, by which the absurdity of its -conclu
sions may be detected, even by those who may not have
leisure or subtlety, or metaphysical knowledge, suf
ficient to
qualify them for a logical confutation of all
its premises.
If it be confessed, that the present a;;e
has some tendency to licentiousness, both in pri
and practice, and that the \*oiks oi sceptical writers
have some tendency to favour that licentiousness it
will also be confessed, that this design is neither absurd
nor unseasonable.
celebrated writer * on human nature has observed,
if truth be at all within the reach of human cathat
pacity, it is certain it mast lie very deep and ab-J
struse
and a little after he adds,
that he would
**
esteem it a strong presumption against the philosorespects,

What

"

"

"

"

:"

* Treatise of

Human

Nature, vol.

1. p. 3, 4.

*
"

INTRODUCTION.

phy he

is

going to unfold, were it so very easy and

am so far from adopting this opinion,

obvious." I

that I declare, in regard to the few things I have to say

human nature, that I should esteem it a very strong
presumption against them, if they were not easy and
obvious. Physical and mathematical truths are often

on

but facts and experiments relating to the hu

expressed in proper words, ought to
be obvious to all.
I find that those
poets, historians,,
and novelists, who have given the most lively displays
of human nature, and who abound most in sentiments
easily comprehended, and readily admitted as true, are
abstruse

man mind, when

most entertaining, as well

as the most useful.

then should the philosophy of the human mind be
so difficult and obscure ? Indeed, if it be an author s
determinate purpose to advance paradoxes, some of
which are incredible, and others beyond comprehension;
if he be willing to avail himself ail he can of the na

the

How

tural ambiguity of language in supporting those para

or if he enter upon inquiries too refined for hu
;

doxes

man

understanding

he must often be obscure, and of

ten unintelligible.
But
I intend only to suggest

mind

my views are very different,

some hints for guarding the

against error and these, I hope, will be found to

be deduced from principles which every man of com
mon capacity may examine by his daily experience.
;

It is true, that several subjects of intricate specu

But I have endea
lation are treated of in this book.

voured, by constant appeals to fact and experience, by

and examples the most familiar I could
think of, and by a plainness and perspicuity of expres

illustrations

sion which sometimes may appear too much affected,

them in a way, that I hope cannot fail to
render them intelligible, even to those who are not much
to treat of

conversant in studies of this kind. Truth, like virtue,

to be loved, needs only to be seen.
My principles re^
no
on
the
;
contrary, they will, if I
disguise
quire
mistake not, be most easily admitted by those who best
understand them. And I am persuaded, that the seep-

INTRODUCTION.

l^f

tical system would never have made such an alarming

The ambi
well understood.
progress, if it had been

language, and the intricacy and length of

fundamental investigations, have unhappily
been too successful in producing that confusion of
in the
thought, and indistinctness of apprehension,
minds both of authors and readers, which are so fa
vourable to error and sophistry.
Few men have ever engaged in controversy, religious,
in some depolitical, or philosophical, without being
.gree chargeable with misconception of the adversary s
That I have never erred in this way, I dare
meaning.
But I am conscious of having done every
not affirm.

guity of

some of

its

its

The greater
thing in my power to guard against it.
part of these papers have lain by me for several years.
They have been repeatedly perused by some of the acutest philosophers of the age, whom I have the honour
to call my friends, and to whose advice and assistance,
on this, as on other occasions, I am deeply indebted.
I have availed myself all I could of
reading and con
versation ; and endeavoured, with all the candour I
am master of, to profit by every hint of improvement,
and to examine to the bottom every objection, that others have offered, or myself could devise.
And may
I not be permitted to add, that
every one of those who
have perused this essay, has advised the author to
publish it ; and that many of them have encouraged
him by this insinuation, to hkn the most flattering of
all others, That
by so doing, he would probably be
of some service to the cause of truth, virtue, and man
kind ? In this hope he submits it to the public. And
hope only that could have induced him to at
a species of writing,
tempt polemical disquisition
which, in his own judgment, is not the most creditable ;
which he knows, to his cost, is not the most pleasing ;
and of which he is well aware that it cannot fail to
draw upon him the resentment of a numerous, power
ful and fashionable
But,
party.
it is this

INTRODUCTION.

l8

Welcome for tlee, fair Virtue ! all tie past

For tbee, fair Virtue ! we/come even the last.
;

If these pages, which he hopes none will condemn

not read, shall throw any light on the first
principles of moral science ; if they shall suggest, to
the young and unwary, any cautions against that so

who have

phistry, and licentiousness of principle, which too much

and compositions of the age ; if

infect the conversations

they

shall, in

any measure, contribute

to the

tion of any of the friends of truth and virtue

satisfac

his pur
and he will, to the
;

pose will be completely answered

end of his life, rejoice in the recollection of those pain
ful hours which he passed in the examination of this
:

most important controversy.

January, 1770.

AH

ESSAY
ON THE

NATURE AND IMMUTABILITY OF TRUTH,

IN OPPOSITION TO

SOPHISTRY

T PURPOSE to treat
-*-

AND
this

SCEPTICISM.
subject in the following

manner.

FIRST, I shall endeavour to trace the several kinds

of Evidence and Reasoning up to their rst principles ;
with a vkw to ascertain the Standard of Truth, and
explain

its

immutability.

SECONDLY,
head, however

I shall

show that

my

sentiments on this

inconsistent with the genius of scepti

cism, and with the practice and principles of sceptical
writers, are yet perfectly consistent with the genius of

true philosophy, and with the practice and principles of

those who are universally allowed to have been the
most successful in the investigation of truth conclud
ing with some inferences or rules, by which the more
important fallacies of the sceptical philosophy may be
detected by every person of common sense, even though
lie should not possess acuteness or metaphysical know
ledge sufficient to qualify him for a logical confutation
of them.
:

THIRDLY, I shall answer some objections and make

some remarks, by way of Estimate of Scepticism and
;

sceptical writers.
I divide
discourse in this

my

manner, chiefly with

a view to the reader s accommodation.

An exact ar
rangement of parts is necessary to confer elegance on a
whole ; but I am more studious of utility than of ele

And though my sentiments might have been

gance.
exhibited in a more systematic order, I am apt to think,
that the order in which they first occurred to me is the
most natural, and may be the most
plishing my purpose.

effectual for

accom

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

30

PART

PART

I.

I.

OF THE STANDARD OF TRUTH.

PHE love

rr

of truth has ever been accounted a gocd

Where it is known to prevail, we ex
to
a temper of mind
find
pect
integrity and steadiness
favourable to every virtue, and tending in an eminent
To have
degree to the advancement of public utility.
no concern for the truth, to be false and fallacious, is
a character which no person who is not utterly aban
doned would chuse to bear ; it is a character from which
-*

principle.

we

expect nothing but levity and inconsistence. Truth

seems to be considered by all mankind as something

unchangeable^ and eternal ; it may therefore be

thought that to vindicate the permanency of truth is to
And indeed, if these ques
dispute with an adversary.
Is there such a
tions were proposed in general terms,
truth and falsehood different and
?
Are
truth
as
thing
few persons
opposite? Is truth permanent and eternal?
would be hardy enough to answer in the negative.
Attempts, however, have been made, sometimes through

fixed,

inadvertence, and sometimes (I fear) from design to

undermine the foundations of truth, and to render their
stability questionable ; and these attempts have been so
vigorously forwarded, and so often renewed, that they

now

constitute a great part of

of the human ?nind.

what

is

called the philo

sophy

perhaps impossible, to give a logical

Truth. But we shall endeavour to give

It is difficult,

definition of

such a description of

it,

as

may make

what we mean by the word. The

others understand

definitions of

former

writers are not so clear, nor so accurate, as could be

wished. These therefore we shall overlook, without
seeking either to explain or to correct them and shall
with taking notice of some of tlie*
satisfy ourselves
mental phenomena that attend the perception of truth.
This seems to bz the safest way of introducing tbs
;

subject.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

CHAPTER
Of

ON

tie Perception

I.

of Truth

in

general.

I exist,
Things ehearing these propositions
to one and the same thing are equal to one a:

qual
The sun rose to-day, There is a God, Ingra
nother,
The three
titude ought to be blamed and punished,
are equal to two right angles, &c.
a
of
triangle
angles
and as1 am conscious, that my mind readily admits
in them. I say, that I beVieve them to be true ;
qutesces
I conceive them to express something confor
that

is,

mable to the nature of things

Of the

*.

contrary pro

does not acquiesce

positions I should say, that my mind
in them, but disbelieves them, and conceives them to
of
express something not conformable to the nature

judgment in this case, I conceive to be

which 1 should form in regard to these pro
positions, if I were perfectly acquainted with ail nature,.
things.
the same

My

in all its parts,

and

in all its

what

laws f.

mean by

the nature of things,

otherwise explain myself, than by saying, that
there is in my mind something which induces me to
think, that every thing existing in nafttre, is determined
to exist, and to exist after a certain manner in conse
quence of established laws and that whatever is agree
able to thoss laws is agreeable to the nature of things,
because by those laws the nature of all things is deter
mined. Of those laws I do not pretend to know any
thing, except so far as they seem to be intimated to
me by my own feelings, and by the suggestions of my
own understanding. But these feelings and suggestions
are such, and affect me in such a manner, that I cannot
help receiving them, and trusting in them, and believing

If I be asked,

I cannot

OVTU

ryiz

Ariost. Metaph.

a/.

lib. 2.

cap. 1.

f This remark, when applied to truth in general, is subject

to certain limitations 5 for which see
part 2. chap. 1. sect. 3,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

I,

that their intimations are not fallacious, but such as I

should approve if I were perfectly acquainted with

every thing in the universe^ and such as I may ap
prove, and admit of, and regulate my conduct by, with
out danger of any inconvenience.
It is not easy on this
subject to avoid identical ex
I am not certain that I have been able to
pressions.
And perhaps I might have expressed my
avoid them.
meaning more shortly and more cleaily, by baying, that
i account That to be truth
which the constitution of
our nature determines us to believe, and That to be
falsehood which the constitution of our nature deter
mines us to disbelieve. Believing and disbelieving are
I can neither define nor de
.simple acts of the mind
scribe them in words
and therefore the reader must
judge of their nature from his own experience.
often believe what we afterwards find to be false ; but
j

We

while belief continues, v/e think it true ; when we dis

cover its falsity, we believe i: no longer.
Hitherto we have used the word belief to denote that
act of the mind which attends the perception of truth
in general.

But

truths are of different kinds;

some

are certain, others only probable and we ought not to

call that act of the mind which attends the perception,
of certainty, and t that which attends the perception
:

of probability, by one and the same name.

Some
have called the former conviction, and the latter assent*
All convictions are equally strong but assent admits
of innumerable degrees, from moral certainty, which
is the highest degree, downward, through the several
stages of opinion, to that suspense of judgment which
:

is called

doubt.

We

may, without absurdity, speak of probable

Whatever a ra
truth as well as of certain truth.
tional being is determined, by the constitution of his
nature, to admit as probable, may be called probable
of it is as universal as ra
truth ; the

acknowledgment

tional nature, and will be as permanent.

But, in this
to that
, we propose to confine ourselves chiefly

CHAP.

AN ESSAY OF TRUTH.

I.

23

which en

kind of truth which may be called certain,

forces our conviction, and the belief of which, in a
sound mind, is not tinctured with any doubt or uncer
tainty.

The

investigation and perception of truth is com

rational faculties : and these have

monly ascribed to our

by some been reduced

to

two

Reason, and Judgment

the former being supposed to be conversant about cer

But
tain truths, the latter chiefly about probabilities.
certain truths are not all of the same kind ; some be

ing supported

by one

sort of evidence, and

different energies of the

therefore be exerted in perceiving

another

ferent energies

others

by

understanding must
them ; and these dif

must be expressed by

different

names,

we would speak of them distinctly and intelligibly.

The certainty of some truths, for instance, is perceiv

if

ed intuitively ; the certainty of others is perceived,

not intuitively, but in consequence of a proof.
Most
of the propositions of Euclid are of the latter kind ;
the axioms of geometry are of the former.
Now, if
that faculty by which we perceive truth in
consequence
of a proof, be called Reasott, surely that power by
which we perceive self-evident truth, ought to be dis
It is of little conse
tinguished by a different name.
quence what name we make choice of, provided that in
chusing it we depart not from the analogy of language ;
and that, in applying it, we avoid equivocation and
Some philosophers of note f have given
ambiguity *.
the name of Common Sense to that
which we

perceive self-evident truth

we

faculty by
and, as the term seems

But in a subject of
adopt it.
of
our being imposed
danger
upon by words we cannot therefore be too much up
on our guard against that species of illusion.
mean
proper enough,

shall

this kind, there is great

;

We

We

*
might call the one Reason, and the other Reasoning ;
but the similiarity of the terms would
frequently occasion both
obscurity in the sense, and harshness in the sound.
f Buffier,

Dr

Reid,

&c.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

24

PART

iv

to draw some important inferences from this doctrine

of the distinction between Reason and Common Sense*

Now

these words are not always used in the strict

sig
we have here assigned them let us there
fore take a view of all the similar senses in which
they
are commonly used, and let us explain more
particu
larly that sense in which we are to use them ? and thusnification

we

every method

our power to secure

ourselves against the impropriety of confounding our
notions by the use of ambiguous and indefinite lan
These philological discussions are indeed
guage.
no part of philosophy but they are very necessary to
Qui ad interpretandam naturam
prepare us for it.
*
verborum mixtam natuaccesserit," says Bacon,
et
et
nocumenti
ram,
juvarnenti
imprimis particishall take

in

"

"

"

pern, distincte sciat

*."

This distinction between Common Sense and Rea

son is no modern discovery f. The ancient geome*

De

ihterpretatione Naturae, sent. 9.

KotvovwfMtrwv of the Greek Stoics seems to

f The

mean

that benevolent affection which men owe to society and to

cue another. Some modern moralists have called it the Pub-

But the notion or idea we mean to express by

Sense.
he term Common Sense is quite different.
The Sensus Communis of the Latins hath several significa
See
tions. 1. It denotes this Public Sense, or xwvcyow^oa-uy.
the freedom of wit and humour, part 3.
on
*
Essay
Shaft shiny"
sect* 1. Note. 2. It denotes that experience and knowledge of
lie

Thus Horace
acquired by living in society.
And thus Quint ilian,
satir. 3. lin. 66.
of a public education ;
Sensum.
speaking of the advantages
cum se a congressu,
ipsum q.ui communis dicitur, ubi discet,
44
sed mutis quoque animalibus
qui noa hominibus solum,
ki
3. It seems to
Kb* 1. cap. 2.
naturalis est, segregarh
instinctive persuasion of truth which arises from,
that
signify
intuitive evidence, and is the foundation of all reasoning :
life

which

is

seems to use

it, lib. 1.

"

j"

esse
Corpus enim per se communis deliquat
Sensus quo nisi prima fides fundata valebit,
*
Haud erit occultls de rebus quo referentes
w Confirioare snimi ^uicquam ratione queamus."
"

Lucretius,

lib.

1* ver.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

UHAP. I.

were all acquainted with it. Aristotle treats

of self-evident principles in many parts of his works,
particularly in the fourth book of his Metaphysics, and
He calls them
in the first book of his latter Analytics.
Axioms or Dignities, Principles and Common Senti
That they are known by
ments* ; and says of them,
their own evidence f ; that except some first prinbe neither reaciples be taken for granted, there can
*
son nor reasoning
y that it is impossible that every
tricians

"

"

"

rots

K.tt\at,$

^CiVtf*,

V)

oc6$,

ay ef&otvrts

OiTTO^OiYOCt, K}

lib.

2.

f Analytic,
a French Peripatetic,

wtvvVFf

i<dv9t(,T6y

cap.

16.

UMGt,

oiov

ort vrov

tVXl

Xj

^JJ

Metaphys.

Of these

t,vot<yx.ot,(M

I Veil.

lib. 3.

first

cap. 2.

principles,

who wrote about

the beginning of the

Ces principes portent
last century, expresses himself thus
le nom de cornmuns, non seulement parce qu ils servent a
"

"

"

*
**

plusieurs sciences, mais

commune a
communes

tous.

On

aussi parce

que

les appelle aussi

P intelligence
dignite<x,,

en est

et notions

a scavoir, dignitez, quasi comme

dignes entre
toutes les autres qu on y adiouste foy, a cause de la grande
excellence de leur clarte et evidence j et notions com:

**
"

"

"

**
"

*
"

"

mur.es, pour ce qu ils sont si connus, qu aussi tost que la

des termes dont ils sont composez est entensignification

due, sans discourir ny argurnenter davantage dessus, chacun

entend naturellement leur verite j si ce n est quelque hebete prive de raison j lequel je revoye a Aristote, qui pronounce, que ceux qui doutent, qu il faut reverer les Dieux,
ou aymer les parents, meritent d estre punis 5 et que ceux
et
qui doutent que la nege est blanche out besom de sons
a Averroes, qui dit, que ceux qui ne scauroient distinguer
ce qui est connu par soy d avec ce qui ne Pest pas, sont incapables de philosopher j et que ne pouvoir connoistre ces
principes, procede de quelque defaut de nature, ou de pen
d exercice, ou d rune mauvaise accoustumance enracinee."
Corps de ioute la Philosophic de Theophraste Bouju, p. 19
;

"

*
J<

**
**

Aristot*

Mctaphys*

lib. 2. cap. 6.

26

ASF

ESSAY aN TRUTH.

PART

I.

**

truth should admit of proof, otherwise proof would

extend in infinitum, which is incompatable with its
nature * ; and that if ever men attempt to prove a
first
principle, it is because they are ignorant of the
nature of proof
The word Reason is used in several different senses.
I. It is used to
signify that quality of human nature
which distinguishes man from the inferior animals.
Man is called a reasonable being, and the brutes are
said to be irrational.
But the faculty of reason, tak
in
a
strict
word
the
sense, is perhaps not more
ing
characteristical of the nature of man, than his moral
faculty, or his imagination, or his power of artificial
Reason, in this acceptation
language, or his risibility.
seems to be a general name for all the intellectual pow
ers, as distinguished from the sensitive part of our con
stitution.
2. Every thing that is called truth is said
to be perceived by reason
by reason, we are said to
perceive, that the three angles of a triangle are equal
"

"

"

"

f."

and we are also said to perceive,

;
reason, that it is impossible for the same thing to
But these truths are of different
be, and not to be.
kinds ; and therefore the energies of understanding, to
which they are referred^ ought to be called by different
to

two right angles

by

3. The power of invention is sometimes as

cribed to resson.
LOCKE tells us, that it is reason
\vhich discovers and arranges the several intermedi
ate proofs in an argument ; an office, which accord
ing to the common use of words, is to be refer
red not to reason, but to imagination.
4. Reason, as

names.

Bristol. Metaphys.

TO {MI

yiva<rx,toy

rwui

*Tliv

-srociiv ,

lib.

4. cap.

TIVM ov on.
ID. Ibid.

may not be supposed to affect

doctrine, or uncommon moc e: of ex

I cite these authorities, that I

either an
pression.

uncommon

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

27

marked by any other name, 19

most accurate in distinguishing,
to signify that power of the human mind by which we
draw inferences, or by which we are convinced, that a
relation belongs to two ideas, on account of our having
implying a faculty not
used by those who are

found, that these ideas

ideas.
In a word, it is
from relations or ideas
such as are unknown j

bear certain relations to other

that faculty which enables us,
that are known, to investigate

and without which

we never

could proceed in the discovery of truth a single step

beyond first principles or intuitive axioms. And it is
in this last sense we are to use the word Reason in the
course of this inquiry.
The term Common Sense has also several different sig
nifications.

I.

Sometimes

it

seems

to

be synonymous

Thus we say, that a man has a large

common sense, who is quick in perceiving re

with prudence.
stock of

mote consequences, and thence instantaneously

deter*.

mines concerning the propriety of present conduct. 2.

Common Sense, in certain instances,, seemeth to be
confounded with some of the powers of taste.
often meet with persons of great sagacity in most of
the ordinary affairs of life, and very capable of accu
rate reasoning* who yet, without any bad intention,
commit the most egregious blunders in regard to deco

We

rum both saying and doing what is offensive to their

company, and inconsistent with their own character :
and this we are apt to impute to a defect in common
sense..
But it seems rather to be owing to a defect in
that kind of sensibility, or sympathy, by which we
;

in the situations of other?,

adopt
sentiments, and in a manner perceive their very
thoughts ; and which is indeed the foundation of good

suppose ourselves

their

breeding

*.

It

is

by

this secret,

and sudden, and (to

who are unacquainted with it) inexplicable, com

munication of feelings, that a man is enabled to avoid
those

what would appear incongruous or

* See Smith

Theory of moral

offensive.

sentiments. sect..l.

Thej

AN ESSAY ON

who

PART

TRUTtf.

I.

are

prompted by inclination, or obliged by neces

study the art of recommending themselves to
others, acquire a wonderful facility in perceiving and
avoiding all possible ways of giving offence which is
a proof, that this kind of sensibility may be much im
sity, to

proved by habit

although there are, no- doubt, in

respect of this, as well as of all other modifica
tions of perception, original and constitutional differ
ences in the frame of different minds.
3. Seme men
are distinguished by an uncommon acutecess in disco
:

vering the characters of others they seem to read the

soul in the countenance, and with a single glance to pe
netrate the deepest recesses of the heart.
In their pre
sence, the hypocrite is detected, notwithstanding his
specious outside ; the gay effrontery of the coxcomb
cannot conceal his insignificance ; and the man of merit
appears conspicuous under all the disguises of an unas
:

suming and ungainly modesty.

This talent

some

is

Common
It
y but very improperly.
it is even
is far from being common
exceedingly rare:
it is to be found in men who are not remarkable for
any other mental excellence and we often see those
times called

S<;nse

who

in other respects are

titute of

it.

4.

to be referred to

adiciou? enough, quite des-

Neither ought every

common

sense.

common

Modes

opinion

in dress, re
in themselves,

ligion, and conversation, however absurd

suit the notions or ihs taste of a particular

may

peo
but none of us will say, that it is agreeable to
common sense, to worship more gods than one to be
lieve that one and the same body may be in ten thou
to like a face
sand different places at the sajne time *
the better because it is painted, or to dislike a person
because he does not lisp in his pronunciation. Lastly,.
The term Common Sense hath in modern times been
used by philosophers, both French and British, to sig
ple

nify that power of the mind which perceives truth>

or commands belief, not by progressive argumentation^
*"

Transubstantiation.

-CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

2$

but by an instantaneous, instinctive, arid irresistible im

pulse ; derived neither from education nor from habit,
but from nature
acting independently on our will,
whenever its object is presented, according to an esta
blished law, and therefore not improperly called
and acting in a similar mariner upon all, or at
Sense f
least upon a great majority of mankind, and therefore
;

properly called
tion that the

Common

Sense.

term Common Sense

It
is

is in this
significa

used

in the

present

inquiry.

That there is a real and essential difference between

two faculties that common sense cannot be ac

these

counted for, by being called the perfection of reason,

nor reason, by being resolved into common sense, will
i.
perhaps appear from the following remarks,
are conscious, from internal feeling, that the energy of
understanding which perceives intuitive truth, is differ
ent from that other energy which unites a conclusion
with a first principle, by a gradual chain of interme
We believe the truth of an investiga
diate relations.
ted conclusion, because we can assign a reason for our
belief; we believe an intuitive principle, without being
able to assign any other reason for our belief than this,
that the law of our nature determines us to believe it ;
even as the law of our nature determines us to see a co
lour when presented to our open eyes at
noon-day. 2.
cannot discern any necessary connection between
reason and common sense
they are indeed generally
connected
but we can conceive a being endued with
the one who is destitute of the other.
Nay, we often

We

We

find, that this is in fact

times reason without

fect of common sense,

the case. In dreams, we some

common sense. Through a de
we adopt absurd principles but
;

suppobing our principles true, our reasoning is often

The same thing may be observed in
unexceptionable.
certain kinds of madness.
man who believes him

self

made of

glass, shall

yet reason very justly concern-

For the circumstances that characterise a Stnse

.f
Gerard s F.ssayon Taste, part 3. sei;t. 1. Note.

see

Pr

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

I.

ing the means of preserving his supposed brittleness

from flaws and fractures. Nay, what is still more to
the purpose, we sometimes meet with persons, whom
it would be injurious to
charge with insanity, who,
though defective in common sense, have yet, by con
versing much with polemical writers, improved their
reasoning faculty to such a degree, as to puzzle and put
to silence those who are greatly .their superiors in every
other mental endowment.
3. This leads us to remark
a third difference between these two faculties ; namely,
that the one is more in our power than the other.
There are few faculties, either of our mind or body,
more improveable by culture, than that of reasoning ;
whereas common sense, like other instincts, arrives at
maturity with almost no care of ours. To teach the
art of reasoning, or rather of wrangling, is easy j but
it is impossible to teach common sense to one who

wants

it.

You may make him remember

a set of first

principles, and say that he believes them, even as you

may teach one born blind to speak intelligibly of co
lours and light ; but neither to the one, nor to the o-

you by any means communicate the peculiar

feeling which accompanies the operation of that facul
man defective in
ty which nature has denied him.

ther, can

common

sense

may

acquire learning

he

may even

pos

but the defect of na

sess genius to a certain degree
a peculiar modification of
ture he never can supply
scepticism, or credulity, or levity, will to the end of
:

It would ehis life distinguish him from other men.

vidence a deplorable degree of irrationality, if one could

not perceive the truth of a geometrical axiom ; such

but the number of self-evi
instances are uncommon
dent principles cognisable by man is very great, and
more vigour of mind may be necessary to the percep
In this respect,
tion of some, than to that of others.
therefore, there may be great diversities in the mea
sure of common sense which different men enjoy.
Further, of two men, one of whom, though he acknow
ledges the truth of a first principle, is but little affected
:

CHAP.

I.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

"-

with it, and is easily induced to become sceptical

in regard to it ; while the other has a vivid percep
tion of its truth, is deeply affected with it, and firmown feelings without doubt or he
ly trusts to his
sitation ; I should not scruple to say, that the latter
of
possesses the greater share

common

sense

and

jn this respect too, I presume the minds of different

men will be found to be very different. These di
versities are, I think, to be referred, for the most
part, to the original constitution of the mind,
not in the power of education to alter.

it is

knowledge, however, that

which
I ac

common

sense, like other

of exercise ; as in

may languish for want

the case of a person who, blinded by a false religion,
has been all his days accustomed to distrust his own
sentiments, and to receive his creed from the mouth
of a priest.
I
acknowledge too, that freedom of
instincts,

inquiry does generally produce a juster, as well as

more liberal, turn of thinking, than can ever be ex
pected, while men account it damnable even to
think differently from the established mode.
But
from this we can only infer, that common sense is

Or perhaps this
improveable to a certain degree.
only proves, that the dictates of common sense are
sometimes overruled, and rendered ineffectual, by the
influence of sophistry and superstition
operating upon a weak and diffident temper. 4. It deserves al
so to be remarked, that a distinction
extremely si
milar

to the

who speak

present is acknowledged by the vulgar,

of mother-wit as
different

something

from

the deductions of reason, and the refinements

of science.
When puzzled with

have recourse to their

common

argument, they

sense, and acquiesce

in it so steadily, as often to render all the arts of the
* I am
logician ineffectual.
confuted, but not con
vinced, is an apology sometimes offered, when one
has nothing to oppose to the
arguments of the anta
but the original undisguised
gonist^
feelings of his
mind.
This apology is indeed very inconsist-

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

T.

with the dignity of

philosophic pride ;. which,
taking for granted that nothing exceeds the limits of
human capacity, professes to confute whatever it
cannot believe, and, which is still more
difficult, to
believe whatever it cannot confute
but this apolo
gy may be perfectly consistent with sincerity and
candor; and with that principle of which Pope says,
that * though no science, it is
worth the sct?nt

fairly

"

ven."

Thus

far

we have endeavoured

to distinguish

and

Reason and Com

Their connection and mutual depen

ascertain the separate provinces of

mon Sense.
dence, and the extent of their respective jurisdic
tions, we now proceed more particularly to investi
I ought perhaps to make an apology for
gate.
these, and some other metaphorical expressions.

And

be wished, that in all mat

kid aside ; for the in
done great harm, by
leading philosophers to mistake verbal analogies for
real ones ; and often, too, by giving plausibility to
nonesense, as well as by disguising and perplexing
very plain doctrines with an affected pomp of highBut in the phi
sounding words and gaudy images.
it is impossible to
the
human
of
mind,
keep
losophy
clear of metaphor ; because we cannot speak intelli
gibly of immaterial things, without continual allu
sions to matter, and its qualities. All I need to say
further on this head is, that I mean not by these
metaphors to impose upon the reader ; and that I
indeed

it

were

to

ters of science, they could be

discreet use of metaphor has

shall

do

my

utmost

to

prevent their imposing upon

myself.
It is strange to observe, with what reluctance
some people acknowledge the power of instinct.
That man is governed by reason, and the brutes by
instinct,

phers

a favourite topic with certain philoso

who, like other froward children, spurn the
is

hand that leads them

to

be

left at their

own

and desire, above

.disposal.

Were

all

things,
boast

this

CHAP.

AN

I.

ESS,\Y

ON TRUTH.

3J

founded in truth, it might be supposed to mean lit

and
tle more, than that man is governed by himself,
But, luckily for mar,
(he brutes by their Maker*.
not founded in truth, but in ignorance, inatten
Our instincts, as well as our
arid self-conceit.

it is

tion,

both in number
powers, are far superior,
and dignity,- to those which the brutes enjoy ; and it
were well for us, on many occasions, if we laid our
and were more attentive in observing
systems aside,
these impulses of nature in which reason has no
rational

part.

Far be

it

from

me

to

of any of the gifts of God

good ; but the best things,,

speak with disrespect

every work of his is

when abused, may be

come pernicious. Reason is a noble faculty, and,
when kept within its proper sphere, and applied to
useful purposes, proves a mean of exalting hums".
creatures almost to the rank of superior beings. Bu:
this faculty has been much perverted, often to vil-%
and often to insignificant purposes 5 sometimes chain
ed like a slave or malefactor, and sometimes soarip.c
No wonder,,
in forbidden and unknown regions.
then, if it has been frequently made the instrument
of seducing and bewildering mankind, and of render

ing philosophy contemptible.

In the science of body, glorious discoveries have
been made by a right use of reason. When men are

once

take things as they find them

satisfied to

when

they believe Nature upon her bare declaration, with

out suspecting her of any design to impose udon
them ; when their utmost ambition is to be. her ser
vants and humble interpreters ; then, and net till

But of

then, will philosophy prosper.

t":ose

who

have applied themselves to the science of Human

Nature, it may truly be said, (of many, of them at
leas^), that too much reasoning hath made them
mad. Nature speaks to us by our external, as well
*

And

In this

Reason
tis

raise

God
.

o er Instinct as you can,

directs, in that

tis

Pofe*s Essay on
C 2

man.

Man, Ep.

S, ver.

3,

A ^ ES3AY

34

Otf

TRUTH.

FRAT

I.

as by our internal, senses

is
it
strange, that we
should believe her in the one case, and not in the other ; it is most strange, that supposing her falla
cious, we should think ourselves capable of detec
;

ting the cheat.

Common

sense

tells me, that the

hard, material, and solid,
and has a real, separate, independent existence.
BERKELEY and HUME tell me, that I am imposed
upon in this mntter for that the ground under my
feet is really an idea in my mind ; that its very es

ground on which

I*

stand

is

sence consists in being perceived ; and that the same

instant it ceases to be perceived, it must also cease
in a word, that to be, and to be
to exist
perceived,
:

\vhen predicated of the ground, the sun, the starry

heavens, or any corporeal object, signify precisely
if my common sense be mis
the same thing.
taken, who shall ascertain and correct the mistake ?
Our reason, it is said. Are then the inferences of

Now

reason in this instance clearer, and more decisive,

than the dictates of common sense ? By no means. I
^till trust to my common sense as before ; and I feel
But supposing the inferences of
that I must do so.
the one faculty as clear and decisive as the dictates
of the other, yet who will assure me, that my rea
son is less liable to mistake than my common sense?
And if reason be mistaken, what shall we say ? Is
this mistake to be rectified by a second reasoning*, ss
In a word, we must
liable to mistake as the first ?
truth and falsehood, abetween
the
distinction
deny
dopt universal scepticism, and wander without end
from one maze of error and uncertainty to another ;

a state of mind so miserable, that Milton makes it

or else we
one of the torments of the damned ;
faculties
is naturally
of
these
one
that
must suppose,
of higher authority than the other ; and that either
to submit to common sense, or com
reason

ought

mon

sense to reason,

whenever

a variance happens

between them.
It

has been said, that every inquiry

in

philosophy

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH,

H.

35

that nothing is to be
to begin with doubt
taken for granted, and nothing believed, without
;

If this be admitted, it must also be admitted,

proof.
that reason is the ultimate judge of truth, to which
common sense must continually act in subordination.

But

this I

cannot admit

because

am

able to prove

the contrary by the most incontestable evidence

I am able to. prove, that "except we believe many
things without proof, we never can believe any
"

thing at all ; for that all sound reasoning must

ultimately rest on the principles of common sense ;
that is, on principles intuitively certain, or intur-

"

"

"

**
"

4*

tively probable ; and, consequently, that common

sense is the ultimate judge of truth, to which rea-

son must continually act in subordination."

This
prove by a fair induction of particulars.

I shall

CHAP.
All reasoning terminates

II.

in Jlrst

Standard of Truth

7N

endeavour to
*

That

Man.

to

we

induction here

tlie

A!!

Sense tie

cannot comprehend all sorts

modes of reasoning but we shall
*
investigate the origin of those which

this induction,
of evidence, and

principles.

Common

evidence ultimately intuitive.

given

is

sufficiently

compre

hensive, will appear from the following analysis.

All the objects of the human

duced to two

understanding may be re
Abstract Ideas, z&&
Things

classes, viz.

really existing.

Of Abstract

Ideas,

and their

Relations, all our

on

knowledge

MATHEMATICAL EVI
DENCE () ; which comprehends, 1. Intuitive
Evidence,
and, 2. The Evidence of strict demonstration.
We judge of Things really existing ; either, 1, From
our cwn
experience; or, 2. From the experience of other
is

certain,

being

founded

men.
(&) Se&ioir i,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

36

PART

I.

most important, and of the most extensive

are the

influence in science, and

common life

beginning with

the simplest and clearest, and advancing gradually

to those which are more complicated, or less per

spicuous.

SECTION
Of

T.

Mathematical Reasoning.

T^HE

evidence that takes place in pure mathemaproduces the highest assurance and certain
ty in the mind of him who attends to, and under
stands it ; for no principles are admitted into this
science, but such as are either self-evident, or sus
Should a man refuse to
ceptible of demonstration.
believe a demonstrated conclusion, the world would
impute his obstinacy, either to want of understand
want of honesty for every person of un
ing, or to
*

tics,

derstanding feels, that by mathematical demonstra

tion he must be convinced whether he will or not.

There are two kinds of mathematical demonstration.

Judging of Real Existences from our own experience,
knowledge
Of SENSE
is
EXTERNAL () and INTERNAL (r) 2. Of MEMORY (//) j
1.

Our
attain either Certainty or Probability.
certain when supported by the evidence, 1.

we

Of LEGITIMATE INFERENCES OF THE CAUSE

and,
Our knowledge \sprobable,
FROM THE EFFECT (*).
when from facts already experienced, we argue, 1. to facts
OF THE SAME KIND (/*) not experienced and, 2. to facts
OF A SIMILAR KIND (^) not experienced. This knowledge,
3.

often rises to moral certainty,

though called probable,
2. Judging of Real Existences from the experience of
other men, we have the EVIDENCE OF THEIR TESTIMO

NY ().
evidence

^ ne m

is

de of understanding produced by that

sometimes
properly called Faith ; and this faith

amounts to probable

opinion,

and sometimes

rises

even to

absolute certainty.
(I) SecS. 1.
,

/) Se.

6.

(i)

Se&. 3.
Sea.

U)

(</)

7.

Sect. 4(A) Sect. 8,

Se&.
(<)

5.

CHAP.

The

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

first is

conclusion

37

; and takes place, when a

inferred from premises that render it

called direct
is

and this perhaps is a more perfect,

necessarily true
or at least a simpler, kind of proof, than the other ;
but both are equally convincing. The other kind is
:

called in direct, apagogica!,

mducensadabsurdum ; and

takes place when, by supposing a proposition false,

we are led into an absurdity, which there is no other
way to avoid, than by supposing the proposition
true. In this manner it is proved, that the proposition
is not, and cannot be, false ; in other words, that it
certain truth.
Every step in a mathematical
proof either is self-evident, or must have been for
merly demonstrated ; and every demonstration does

is a

finally

resolve itself into intuitive or self-evident

principles,

which

it is

impossible to prove, and e-

These first princi

ples constitute the foundation of mathematics if you
if
disprove them, you overturn the whole science

qually impossible to disbelieve.

you refuse

to believe them,

you

cannot, consistently

with such refusal, acquiesce in any mathematical

truth whatsoever.
But you may as well attempt to
blow out the sun, as to disprove these principles :
and if you say, that you do not believe them *, you
will be charged either with falsehood or with folly ;
you may as well hold your hand in the fire, and say
that you feel no pain.
By the law of our nature,
we must fed in the one case, and believe in the other j even as, by the same law, we must adhere to
the earthp and cannot fall headlong to the clouds.
*

quelque opimastre les nie de la voix, on ne Pen

empescher j mais cela ne luy est pas permis interieurement en sen esprit, parce que sa lumiere naturelle
y
repugne, qui est la partie ou se rapporte la demonstration
Si

scauriot

et le syllogisme, et

de quoy

non aux

paroles externes.

Au moyen

trouve quelqu un qui ne les puisse entendre,

cettuy-la est incapable de discipline.
Dialectique de Boujou, Ih. 3. ch. 3,
s ll

se

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
?AR T r,
3^
But who will pretend to prove a mathematical
axiom, That a whole is greater than a part, or,.
That things equal to one and the same thing are equal to one another ? Every proof must be clearer
and more evident than the thing to be proved.
Can
you then assume any more evidei^t principle, from,.
which the truth of these axioms may be consequen
;

tially inferred ? It is impossible ; because they are

You mayalready as evident as any tiling can be *.
matter
to
the
the
test
of
the
senses, by laying,
bring
a few halfpence and farthings upon the table ; but
* Different
opinions have prevailed concerning the na
ture of these geometrical axioms.
Some suppose, that an
axiom is not self-evident, except it imply an identical pro

position j that therefore this axiom, It is impossible fir

the same thing, at the same time, to be and not to- be, is the

only axiom that can properly be called intuitive

other propositions

and

that"

called axioms, ought

to be demonstrated by being resolved into this fundamen
tal axiom.
But if this cculd be done, which I fear is not
all those

commonly

mathematical truth would not be one whit more

Those other axioms produce absolute
it is.
certainty, and produce it immediately, without any pro
And
cess of thought or reasoning that we can discover.
if the truth of a proposition be clearly and certainly per
ceived by all men without proof, and if no proof -whatever
could make it more clear or more certain, it seems captious,
possible,

certain than

not to allow that proposition the

name of

Intuitive Jixiont.

Others suppose, that though the demonstration of ma

thematical axioms is not absolutely necessary, yet that these
axioms are susceptible of demonstration, and ought to be
Dr Barrow is of
temonstrated to those who require it.
So is Apollonius ; who, agreeably to it, has
this opinion.
attempted a demonstration of this axiom, That things equal to one and the same thing are equal to one another.
Eut whatever account we make of these opinions, they af
However far the demonstration of
fect not our doctrine.
axioms may b e- carried, it must at last terminate in one
which principle
principle of common sense, if not in many ^

we must

believe without proof whether

we

will or no.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

39

the evidence of sense is not more unquestionable,

than that of abstract intuitive truth ; and therefore
the former evidence, though to one ignorant of the
meaning of the terms, it might serve to explain and
But not to
illustrate the latter, can never prove it.

on the signification we affix to the

to remove every possibility of
doubt as to this matter let us suppose, that the
evidence of external sense is more unquestionable
than that of abstract intuitive truth, and that every
intuitive principle in mathematics may thus be
brought to the test of sense ; and if we cannot call
the evidence of sense a proof, let us call it a confir
mation of the abstract principle yet what do we
gain by this method of illustration ?
only dis
cover, that the evidence of abstract intuitive truth is
resolvable into, or may be illustrated by, the evidence
of sense.
And it will be seen in the next section,
that we believe in the evidence of external sense, not
because we can prove it to be true, but because the
law of our nature determines us to believe in it
rest

any

xvord

tiling

proof i and

We

without proof. So that in whatever way we view

this subject, the point we mean to illustrate appears

That all mathematical truth is.

namely,
founded in certain first principles, which common
sense or instinct compels us to believe without
"

certain,
"

"

proof, whether we will or not."

Nor would the foundation of mathematics be in the
least degree more stable, if these axioms did admit of
proof, or were all resolvable into one primary axiom
"

As the case
expressed by an identical proposition.
stands, we are absolutely certain of their truth ;
and absolute certainty is all that demonstration can
are convinced by a proof, because our
produce.
constitution is such, that we must be convinced
by
and we believe a self-evident axiom, because our
it
constitution is such that we must believe it.
You
now

We

ask,
T

,\:ell

why

ask,

why you

believe

what

is

self-evident.

believe what

is

proved.

may

as

Neither

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

40

PART

T.

question admits of an answer ; or rather, to both

questions the answer is the same, namely, Because
I

must believe

it.

Whether

o .ir belief in these cases be agreeable to

the eternal relations and iitnesses of things, and such
as we should entertain if we were perfectly
acquaint
ed with all the laws of nature, is a question which
no person of a sound mind can have any scruple to
answer, with the fullest assurance, in the affirmative.
it is, our constitution is so framed, that we
believe to be trae, and conformable to universal"
nature, that which is intimated to us, as such, by the

Certain

must

If
original suggestions of our own understanding.
these are fallacious, it is the Deity who makes them
so ; and therefore we can never rectify, or even de
But we cannot even suppose them
tect, the fallacy.

without violating our nature ; nor, if we

acknowledge a God, without the most absurd and most
audacious impiety ; for in this supposition it is implied
that we suppose the Deity a deceiver. Nor can we,
consistently with such a supposition, acknowledge
any distinction between truth and falsehood, or be
lieve that one inch is less than ten thousand miles,
or even that we ourselves exist.
fallacious,

SECT.
Of

the Evidence

II.

of External Sense.

A NOTHER class

of truths producing conviction, and

absolute certainty, are those which depend up
on the evidence of the external senses; Hearing, See
ing, Touching, Tasting, and Smelling, On this evidence
is founded all our knowledge of external or material
things ; and therefore all conclusions in Natural Philo~
sophy and all those prudential considerations which
regard the preservation of our body, as it is liable to be
affected by the sensible qualities of matter, must fi

nally be resolved into this principle, That things are

as our senses represent them.
When I touch a
stone,. I

am conscious

of a certain sensation, which

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

If.

41

But this sensation is

of hardness.
nor any thing like hardness
it
is nothing more than a sensation or feeling in my
mind accompanied, however, with an irresistable
belief, that this sensation is excited by the applica
tion of an external and hard substance to some part
eall a sensation

not hardness

itself,

This belief as certainly accompanies

of my body.
the sensation, ^s the sensation accompanies the appli
I believe,
cation of the stone to my organ of sense.
with as much assurance, and as unavoidably, that
the external thing exists, and is hard, as I believe
that I receive, and am conscious of, the sensation of
hardness ; or, to speak more strictly, the sensation

which by experience

touching a hard body*.

know

to be the sign of

Now why

my

do 1 believe
that this sensation is a real sensation, and really felt
by me ? Because my constitution is such that I must
And why do I believe, in consequence
believe so.
of my receiving this sensation, that I touch an exter
nal object, really existing, material, and hard ? The
answer is the same the matter is incapable of proof:
I believe, because I must believe.
Can I avoid be
7

lieving, that I really

am

conscious of receiving this

avoid believing, that the ex
ternal thing exists, and has a certain
quality, which
fits it, on
to
to excite a cer
hand,
my
being applied
tain feeling or sensation in
my mind ? No ; I must
believe this, whether T will or not.
Nor could I
divest myself of this belief, though my life and fu
ture happiness depended on the
To
consequence.
believe our senses, therefore, is according to the law
of our nature ; and we are prompted to this belief
by instinct, or common sense. I am as certain, that
at present I am in a house, and not in the
open air ;
that I see by the
light of the sun, and not by the
light of a candle j that I feel the ground hard under
sensation

* See
sect.

3.,

No.

Dr Reid

Can

Inquiry into the

human mind,

chap. 5,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

4*

PART

I*

my feet; and that I lean against a real material

as I can be of the truth of any geometrical
table,
axiom, or of any demonstrated conclusion ; nay, I am
as certain of all this as of my own existence.
But I
cannot prove by argument, that there is such a thing
as matter in the world, or even that I myself exist
:

and yet

know

as assuredly, that I

do

exist, and that

a real material

is a real material sun, and

world, with mountains, trees, houses, and animals,
existing separately, and independently on me and my
faculties ; I say, I know all this with as much as
surance of conviction, as the most irrefragable de
monstration could produce.
Is it unreasonable to
believe in these cases without proof ? Then, I affirm,
it is equally unreasonable to believe in any case Moita

there

Our belief in either case. is unavoidable, and

according to the law of our nature j and if it be un
reasonable to think, according to the law of our na
ture, it must be equally unreasonable to adhere to
the earth, to be nourished with food, or to die when
It is indeed
the head is separated from the body.
a
can recon
man
affirm
to
any thing, provided
easy

proof.

man may
himself to hypocrisy and falsehood.
he sees with the soles of his feet, that he
believes there is no material world, that he doubts of
He may as well say, that he be
his own existence.
lieves one and two to be equal to six, a part to be great
er than a whole, a circle to be a triangle and that it
may be possible for the same thing, at_the same time,
to be and not to be.
But it is said, that our senses do often impose
and that by means of reason we are enab
iipon us
led to detect the imposture, and to judge rightly even
cile

affirm, that

where our senses give us wrong information

that

therefore our belief in the evidence of sense is not in

stinctive or intuitive, but such as may be either con

We

shall acknow
futed or confirmed by reasoning.
often
do
that
our
senses
upon us: but
impose
ledge
n little attention will convince us, that reason, though
it
may be employed in correcting the present falla-

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

43

clous sensation, by referring it to a former sensation,

received by us, or by other men, is not the ultimate
in this matter ; for that all such reasoning is

judge

resolvable into this principle of common sense, That

our external senses represent them.
tilings are what
One instance will suffice at present for illustration of
this point*.

After having looked a moment at the sun, I see a

black, or perhaps a luminous, circle swimming in
the air, apparently at the distance of two or three feet
from my eyes. That I see such a circle, is certain ;
that I believe I see it, is certain ; that I believe its
appearance to be owing to some cause, is also cer
tain
thus far there can be no imposture, and there
is no supposition of
Suppose me from this
any.
:

appearance to conclude, that a real, solid, tangible or

visible round substance, of a black or yellow colour,
is actually
swimming in the air before me ; in this I
should be mistaken. How then come I to know that
I am mistaken ? I
may know it in several ways. i.
I stretch out my hand to the place where the circle
seems to be floating in the air ; and having felt no
thing, I am instantly convinced, that there is no tan
Is this conviction an
gible substance in that place.
inference of reason

No

it

is a

conviction arising

from our innate propensity to believe, that

things
are as our senses represent them.
By this innate or
instinctive propensity I believe that what I touch
exists
by the same propensity I believe, that where
;

I touch nothing, there

nothing tangible does exist.
If in the present case I were
suspicious of the vera
city of
lieve.

my

senses, I should neither believe nor disbe

I turn
my eyes towards the opposite
quarter of the heavens ; and having still observed the
same
before them, and
^circle floating
krowfng by
experience, that the motion of bodies placed at a dis
tance from me does not follow or
deperd on the mo
tion of
my body, I conclude, that the appearance i&
2.

See

.part 2.

chatj. I.

scc t. 3.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

44
owing, not
to

to a real,
in

some disorder

soning

is

PART

I.

external corporeal object, but

Here rea
organ of sight.
but where does it terminate ?

my

employed

It terminates in experience, which I have

acquired
senses.
But if I believed them fal
by means of

my

lacious, if I believed things to be otherwise than

senses represent them, I should never acquire expe

my

rience at

Or,

all.

3. I

apply, first to one man, then

to another, and then to a third, who all assure me,

that they perceive no such circle floating in the air,
and at the same time inform me of the true cause cf

the appearance.

because
because

believe their declaration, either

have had experience of their veracity, or

have an innate propensity

to credit testi

To

gain experience implies a belief in the

evidence of sense, which reasoning cannot account
for ; and a propensity to credit testimony previous to
experience or reasoning, is equally unaccountable*.

mony.

So

that,

although

we acknou ledged some

of our

senses, in some instances, deceitful, our detection of

the deceit, whether by the evidence of our other sen
ses, or by a retrospect to our past experience, or by
our trusting to the testimony of other men, does still
imply, that we do and must believe our senses pre
viously to all reasoningf.
human creature born with a propensity to dis
believe his senses, would be as useless and helpless as
To his own preservation he
if he wanted them.
could contribute nothing
and, after ages of being,
.would remain as destitute of knowledge and experi
ence, as when he began to be.
Sometimes we seem to distrust the evidence of
,our senses, when in reality we only doubt whether

we have

I may appeal to any man,

that evidence.
he were thoroughly convinced that he had really,
when awake, seen and conversed with a ghost,
vvhether any reasoning would -convince him that it

if

*
t

See sect. 8. of this chapter,

See pait 2. chap. I. sect. 2.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

IT.

45

Reasoning might lead him to sus*

he had been dreaming, and therefore to
doubt whether or not he had the evidence of sense ;
bac if he were assured that he had that evidence, no
shake his belief.
arguments whatsoever would

was

a delusion.

pect that

SECT.

III.

Of the Evidence of Internal Sense, or Consciousness,

BYnotattending
only

to

that

what passes
it

exists,

my

in

but

also

mind,
that

it

know

exerts

certain powers of action and perception; which, on

of a diversity in their objects, or
of a difference in their manner of operating, I con

account either

sider as separate and distinct faculties; and

I find it expedient to distinguish by different
that I may be able to speak of them so as to be

which

names,
under
one time I

Thus I a:n conscious that at

stood.
exert memory, at another time imagination: some
the perfor
times I believe, sometimes I doubt
mance of certain actions, an i the indulgence of certain
affections, is attended with an agreeable feeling of a
:

peculiar kind which I call moral approbation ; dif

ferent actions and affections excite the opposite
to relieve
feeling, of moral disapprobation
tress, I fsal to be meritorious and praise-

dis

worthy

to

pick

a pocket, I

know

worthy of punishment;

am

to

be blameable, and

conscious that some ac

my power, and that others are not that

when I- neglect to do what I ought to do, and can do,
I deserve to be punished
and that when I act neces
sarily, or, upon unavoidable and irresistible compul
sion, I deserve neither punishment ncr blame. Of all
these sentiments I am as conscious, and as certain, as of
tions are in

my own existence. I cannot prove that I feel them,

neither to myself, nor to others ; but that I do really
feel them, is as evident to me as demonstration could
make it. I cannot prove, in regard to my moral feel
ings, that they are comfortable to

Dz

any extrinsick and

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

46

PART

eternal relations of things ; but I know that

stitution necessarily determines me to believe

my

I.

con

them

just and genuine, even as it determines me to believe

that I myself exist, and that things are as
external
senses represent them. And a sophister could no more

my

my conviction, that these feelings are falla

cious, or that I have no such feelings, than he could
conviction, that two and two nVay be eprove to
qual to fiVe, or that my friend is as much present with
prove

to

my

me when
as

I think of him at a thousand miles distance,

when I sit and converse with him in the same cham

An expert logician might perhaps puzzle me

ber.
with words, and propose difficulties I could not solve
but he might as well attempt to convince me, that I
do not exist, as that I do not feel what I am consci
ous I do feel. And if he could induce me to suspect
that I may possibly be mistaken, what standard of
truth could he propose to me, more evident, and of
higher authority, than my own feelings ? Shall I be
:

lieve his

Sh.

11

tesnmony,and disbelieve

my own

sensations?

his reasons, because 1 cannot confute

common sense tells me they are false ?

admit

them,, altho
Shall I suffer the ambiguities of artificial language to
prevail against the clear, the intelligible, the irre
I to judge of the co
sistible voice of nature ?

Am

louring of a flower by moonshine, or by the .light of

the sun ? Or, because I cannot, by candle-light, distin
green from blue, shall I therefore infer, that

guish
green and blue are the same

We

cannot disbelieve the evidence of internal sense,

without offering violence to our nature. And if we be
led into such disbelief, or distrust, by the sophistry of
as wisely as a mapretended philosophers, we act just
jiner would do, who should suffer himself to be per

suaded, that the pole-star is continually changing its

blows from the same
place, but that the wind always
or instinct, which prompts
Common
sense,
quarter.
men to trust to their own feelings, hath in all ages con
tinued the same: but the interests, pursuit ^and abilu

CHAP,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

If.

47

ties of philosophers are susceptible of endless variety;

and their theories vary accordingly.

Let it not be thought, that these objects and fa
culties of internal sensation are things too evanescent
to be attended to, or that their evidence is too weak
to produce a steady and well-grounded conviction.
They are more necessary to our happiness than even
the powers and objects of external sense ; yea, they
are no less necessary to cur existence.
What can
be of greater consequence to man, than his moral
sentiments, his reason, his

What more

memory, his imagination ?

know, whether his

interesting, than to

notions of duty and of truth be the dictates of his

nature, that is the voice of God, or the positive in
stitutions of men ? What is it to which A wise man
will pay more attention, than to his reason and con
science, thosn divine monitors, by which he is to
judge even of religion itself, and which he is not at
liberty to disobey, though .an angel from heaven
should command him ? The
generality of mankind,
however ignorant of the received distinctions and ex
plications of their internal powers, do yet by their
conduct declare, that
they feel their influence, and
acknowledge their authenticity. Every instance of
their being
governed by a principle of moral obliga
tion, is a proof of this.
They believe an action to
be lawful in the
sight of God, when they are con
scious of a sentiment of lawfulness
attending the
performance of it they believe a certain mode of
conduct to be incumbent on them in certain circum
stances, because a notion of duty arises in their mind,
when they contemplate that conduct in relation to
those circumstances
I ought to be
grateful for,
a favour received.
? Because
Why
my conscience*
^ tells me
so.
How do you know that you ought
to do that of which
conscience
the
:

-"

"

your

enjoins

"

can give no further reason for it

;
*
bu * eel that such is m
5
7 duty." Here the in
vestigation must stop or, if carried a little further
it must return to this
I know that I
point

performance

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

48
*

* *

PART

I.

do what my conscience enjoins, because

ought
God is the author of my constitution and I obey
His will, when I act according to the principles of
my constitution. Why do you obey the will
of God ? Because it is my duty.
How know
?
that
Because
conscience
tells
me so."
my
you
to

**
*
"

If a man were sceptical in this matter, it would

not be in the power of argument to cure him.
Such
a man could not be said to have any moral principle
distinct from the hope of reward, the fear of punish
But that there is in
ment, or the force of custom.
human nature a moral principle distinct from those
motives, has been felt and acknowledged by men of
all ages and nations ; and indeed was never denied
or doubted, except by a few metaphysicians, who,
through want either of sense or of honesty, found
themselves disposed to deny the existence or ques
In the
tion the authenticity, of our moral feelings.
celebrated dispute concerning liberty and necessity,
the advocates for the latter have either maintained,
that we have no sense of moral liberty ; or, grant
a sense, have endeavoured to
ing that we have such
prove it deceitful. Now, if we be conscious, that
we have a sense of moral liberty, it is certainly as
absurd to argue against the existence of that sense,
us against the reality of any other matter of fact.
And if the real existence of that sense be acknow
it cannot be proved to be deceitful by any

ledged,

arguments which may not also be applied to prove

every power of our nature deceitful, and consequent
that man ought not to believe any thing
ly, to show
iit

all.

We

Buf^more of

this afterwards.

have no ether direct evidence than

this

of

consciousness, or internal sensation, for the existence

I am the
I exist ;
and identity of our own soul *.

same
=*
But there are not wanting
I say, direct evidence.
ether irrefragable, ti.ojgh indirect, evidences of the ex
Sych ifc that v\lich results
istence of the huiuan soul.

H.

AN ESSAY OF TRUTH.
this

years ago ;
that thinks and acts,
principle,

distinct

49!

was yesterday, and twenty

principle, or being, within me,

same being to-day

is

one permanent and individual

all other principles,
beings,

from

or

from a oomparison of the known qualities of matter with

phenomena of animal motion and thought. 1 he fur

the

we carry our inquiries into matter, the more we are

And as to
convinced of its incapacity to begin motion.
if we think that thsy
thought, and its several modes,
might be produced by any possible configuration and ar
of matter, we form a
rangement of the minute particles
as arbitrary, as little warranted by experience
supposition
or evidence of any kind, and as contrary to the rules that
determine us in all our rational conjectures, as if we were
to suppose, that diamonds might be produced from the
ther

smoke of a candle, or that men might grow

rooms out of the earth. There must then, in
,and especially in .man, be a

like
all

mush

animals,

principle, net only distinct

and different from body, but in some respects of a quite

Tc ask, whether the Deity, without ucontrary nature.
niti ig body with spirit, ct)uld create
thinking matter, is
a question, as, whether he could create a
just such
being
essentially active and essentially inactive, capable cf begin
ning motion, and at the same time incapable of beginning
motion
questions, which, if we allow experience to be -.a
rational ground of knowledge, we need not scruple to an
For these questions, according to
swer in the negative.
the best lights that our rational faculties can a fiord, seem
to us to refer to the production of an effect as
truly im
possible, as the creation of round squareness, hot cold,
black whiteness, or true falsehood.
:

Yet I am inclined to think, it is not by this argument

that the generality of mankind are led to
acknowledge, tLe
existence of their own minds.
evidence more

An

direct,

much more

obvious, and not less convincing, every man

discovers in the instinctive suggestions of nature.
perceive the existence of our souls by intuition ; and this
1 believe is the only way in which the
vulgar perceive it.

We

But their conviction is not on that account the weaker j

on the contrary, they would account the man mad who
should seem to entertain any doubts on this subject.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

JO

PART

T.

or things ;
these are dictates of internal sensation
natural to man, and universally acknowledged and
they are of so great importance, that while we doubt
of their truth, we can hardly be interested in any
If I were to believe with
thing else whatsoever.
:

Mr

mind is perpe
HUME, and some others, that
tually changing, so as to become every different mo
ment a different thing, the remembrance of past, or
the anticipation of future good or evil, could give

me

my

neither pleasure nor pain

yea, though I were

to

One
when

"

of the

first

thoughts that occur to Milton

new waked from

soundest

ter the cause of his existence

**
**
"

is

"

**
"

Adam,

sun, said I, fair light

thou enlightened earth, so fresh and gay
!

And
Ye hills,

and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains,

And, ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell,
Tell, if ye stv. how came I thus, how here
Not of myself 5 by some great jYlaker then,
In goodness and in power pre-eminent.
Tell me, hew I may know him, how adcrc,
From whom I have, that thus I move and live,
And feel that I am happier than I know."
T

"

to inquire af

Thou

"

"

sleep,"

Paradise Lost,

Of

the reality of his

observable that be

viii.

273.

own life, motion, and existence, it

makes no question j and indeed

is
it

would have been strange if lie had. Eut Dryden, in his

opera called The state of innocence, would needs attempt
an improvement on this passage \ and to make surer work,
obliges Adam to prove his existence by argument, before
he allows him to enter upon any other inquiry
What am I ? or from whence ? For that I am
I know, because I think
but whence I came,
*4
Or how this frame of mine began to be,
:

"

"

"

What

other being can disclose to

me

Act

2. scene 1.

seems, bad read Des Cartes j but Milton had

studied nature
Accordingly Dryden speaks like a me-

Dryden,

it

and philosopher.
taphysician, Milton like a poet

CHAP. II.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

51

to believe, that cruel death would certainly over

take me within an hour, I should be no more con
cerned, than if I were told, that a certain elephant,

three thousand years hence,, would, be sacrificed on

the top of Mount Atlas. To a man who doubts the
individuality or identity of his own mind, virtue,
truth, religion, good and evil, hope and fear, are ab
solutely nothing.

Metaphysicians have taken some pains to confound

our notions on the subject of identity
and, by e
stablishing the currency of certain ambiguous phrases
have succeeded so Well, that it is now nardly possible
for us to explain these dictates of our nature accord
ing to common sense and common experience> in such
The
language as shall be liable to no exception.
misfortune is, that many of the words we must use
;

though extremely well understood, are either too

simple or too complex- in their, meaning, to admit a
logical definition ; so that the caviller is never at a
Joss for an evasive reply to any thing we may ad-*-

vance.
But. I will take it upon me to affirm, that
there arc hardly any human notions more clearly,
or more universally understood, than those we en
tertain concerning the identity both of ourselves and

of other things, however difficult we may some

times find it to express those notions in proper
words. And I will also venture to affirm, that
the sentiments of the generality of mankind on this
hea d are grounded on such evidence, that he who
refuses to be convinced by it, acts irrationally, ami
cannot, consistently with such refusal, believe any
^

existence of our own mind, as something

and distinct from the body, is universally
I say universally
acknowledged.
having never
heard of any nation of men upon earth, who did not;
in their conversation and behaviour, show, by the
plainest signs, that they made this distinction. N-ay ?
so strongly are mankind impressed with it, that the
I.

The

different

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

5a

PART

I.

rudest barbarians, by their incantations, their fune

ral solemnities, their traditions
concerning invisible
beings, and their hopes and opinions of a future state
seem to declare, that to the existence of the soul
the body is not, in their opinion necessary.
All phi
losophers, a few Epicureans and Pyrrhonists excepted, have acknowledged the existence of the soul, ag
one- of the first and most unexceptionable principles
oi

human

science.

Now

whence could

niversal arise? Let us examine our

uminds, and

a notion so

own

we shall find, that it could arise from nothing but

consciousness, a certain irresistible persuasion, that
we have a soul distinct from the body. The evidence
of this notion is intuitive ; it is the evidence of in
ternal sense.
Reasoning can neither prove nor dis
it.
DES
prove
CARTES? and his disciple MALEBRANCHE, acknowledge, that the existence of the hu

man
who

must be believed by all men, even by those

can bring themselves to doubt of every thing

soul

else.

Mr

Simon Browne *, a learned and pious clergy

of the last age, is perhaps the only person en re
cord of whom there is reason to think, that he se
riously disbelieved the existence of his own soul.
He imagined, that in consequence of an extraordi
nary interposition of divine power,, his rational soul
was gradually annihilated, and that nothing was now
left him, but a principle of animal life, which he held
in common with the brutes.
But wherever the story

man

of this excellent person is known, his unhappy mis

take will be imputed to madness, and to a deprava
tion of intellect, as real, and as extraordinary, as if
he had disbelieved the existence of his body, or the
axioms of mathematics.
2. That the thinking principle, which we believe
to be within us, continues the same through life, is
equally self-evident, and equally agreeable to the u* See his
vol. 3.
in the
affecting story

No.

8.8,.

Adventurer,

CHAP,

AN ESSAY OK TRUTH,

II.

5J

niversal consent of mankind. If a man were to speak

and act in the evening, as if he believed himself to
have become a different person since the morning,
the whole world

would pronounce him

Were we to attempt
own identity, we should labour in
insanity.

in a state of

to disbelieve

vain

our

we could

ag
to
rhat
it is possible
ourselves
believe,
easily bring
But there
for the same thing to be and not to be.
is no reason to think, that this attempt was ever

imde by any man, not even by

though that author,

in his

Mr HUME

Treatise of

himself

Human Na

ture, has asserted, yea, and proved too, Caccording

to his notions of proaf,^ that the human soul is per

a bundle of
petually changing ; being nothing but
perceptions, that succeed each other with inconceivable rapidity, and are (as he clauses to express
"

*f
"

He might as easily,
a perpetual flux *."
decisively, with equal credit to his own un
derstanding, and with equal advantage to the reader,
in

"

it)

and

as

a method of reasoning no less philosophical, and

with the same degree of discretion in the use of words
have attacked the axioms of mathematics, and pro
duced a formal and serious confutation of them.
In
explaining the evidence on which we believe our own
identity, it is not necessary that I should here exa
mine his arguments against that belief: first, because
the point in question is self-evident
and therefore
all reasoning on the other side
unphilosophical and

by

and, secondly, because I shall afterwards

prove that some of Mr HUME S first principles are
inconceivable and impossible ; and that this very no
tion of his concerning identity, when
fairly stated, is
absurd and s If-contradictory.
It has been asked, how we can
pretend to have
lull evidence of our
when
of
identity,
identity itself
irrational

we

from having a distinct notion, that we

it.
It might with as
good reason be
how we come to believe that two and two are

are so far

cannot define
cl,

* Treatise of

Human

Nature, vol.

1. p.

428, &.c*

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

|4

PART 1^

four, or that a circle is different from a

equal
if we cannot define either
triangle,
equality or diver
sity:
why we believe in our own existence, since
we cannot define existence
why, in a word, the
to

vulgar believe any thing at all, since they know no

thing about the rules of definition, and hardly ever

attempt it. In fact, we have numberless ideas that

admit not of definition, and yet concerning which we
may argue, and believe, and know, with the utmost
To define heat or cold, iclearness and certainty.
dentity or diversity, red, or white, an ox or an ass,
would puzzle all the logicians on earth ; yet nothing
can be clearer, or more certain, than many of our
The rudest of
uidgment- concerning those objects.
the vulgar

when they

know most
say,

perfectly

Three months ago

what they mean,

I was at such a

town, and have ever since been at home and the

conviction they have of the truth of this proposition,
is founded on the best of evidence,
namely, on that
of internal sense ; in which all men, by the law of
their nature, do and must implicitly believe.
:

It has been asked, whether this continued consci

ousness of our being always the same, does not con
No more, I should
stitute our sameness or identity.
answer, than our perception of truth, light, or cold,
k the eilicient cause of truth, light, or cold. Our
identity is perceived by consciousness ; but consci
ousness is as different from identity, as the under
standing is different from truth, as past events are
different from memory, as colours from the power
Consciousness of identity is so far from
of seeing.

An
constituting identity, that it presupposes it.
animal might continue the same being, and yet not
be conscious of its identity ; which is probably the
csse with many of the brute creation nay, which is
When we sleep
often the case with man himself.
witho t dreaming, or fall into a fainting nt *, or rave
;

* The
following

Academy

case,

of Sciences,

is

which 3VI. Crozaz gave in to the

the most extraordinary instance

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

ir.

35

in a fever, and often too in our ordinary dreams, we

lose all sense of our identity, and yet never conceive
that our identity has suffered any interruption or

the moment we awake or recover, we are

change
conscious that we are the same individual beings we
:

were before.

Many doubts and difficulties have been started about our manner of conceiving identity of person un
Plutarch tells us, that in
der a change of substance,
the time of Demetrius Phalereus, the Athenians
still preserved the custom of sending every year
to Delos the same galley which, about a thousand
years

of interrupted consciousness I have ever heard of.

nobleman of Lausanne, as he was giving orders to a ser
Different
vant, suddenly lost his speech and all his senses.
remedies were tried without effect for six months j during
all which time he appeared to be in a deep sleep, or deh-

quium, with various symptoms at different periods, which

nre particularly specified in the narration.
At last, after
some chirurgical operations, at the end of six months his

When he re
speech and senses were suddenly restored.
covered, the servant to whom he had been giving orders
when he was first seized with the distemper, happening to
be in the room, he asked whether he had executed his
commission ; not being sensible, it seems, that any interval
of time, except, perhaps a very short one, had elapsed du
He lived ten years after, and died of aring his illness.
nother disease.
See
Histoire de /* Academic Royale des

1719, p. 28. Van Swieten also

commentaries on Boerhaave s
I mention it chief
Aphorisms, under the head Apoplexy.
ly with a view to the reader s amusement \ he may con
sider the evidence, and believe or disbelieve as he
please?.
But that consciousness may be interrupted by a total deliquium, without any change in our notions of our own iSciences, pour /* ann/e,
relates this story in his

dentity, I

know by my own

experience.

am

therefore

fully persuaded, that the identity of this substance, which

I call
soul, may continue even when I am unconscious

my

of

it j

and

if for a

shorter space,

why

not for a longer

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

5^

PART

I.

years before, had brought Theseus and his company

from Crete ; and that it then used to be a question
in the schools, how this could be the same
vessel,
when every part of its materials had been changed
oftener than once *.
It is asked, how a tree can be
accounted the same, when, from a plant of an inch
long, it has grown to the height of fifty feet ; and
how identity can be ascribed to the human body,
since its parts are continually changing, so that not
one particle of the body I now have, belonged to the
body I had twenty years ago.
It were well, if metaphysicians would think more
and speak less on these subjects
they would then
find, that the difficulties so much complained of are
rather verbal than real.
Was there a single Athen
:

who did not know in what respects the galley of

Theseus continued the same, and in what respects it
was changed ? It was the same in respect of its name,
ian,

shape perhaps, and size, and some

in respect of its substance, it was
And when one party in the
altogether different.
schools maintained, that it was the same, and the
other, that it was not the same, all the difference be
tween them was this, that the one used the word
same in one sense, and the other in another.
The identity of vegetables is as easily conceived.
No man imagines, that the plant of an inch long is
the same in substance with the tree of fifty feet.
its destination, its

other particulars

The latter is by the vulgar supposed to retain all the

substance of the former, but with the addition of an
Thus
immense quantity of adventitious matter.
far, and no further, do they suppose the substance
of the tree to continue the same. They call it, how
ever, the same tree ; and the same it is, in many re
which to every person of common sense are
obvious enough, though not easily expressed in un
exceptionable language.
spects,

Plutarch, in Theseo.

Plato, in Phaedone.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
57
Of the changes made in the human body by attri
have no notion. They believe the
tion, the vulgar
CHAP.

II.

substance of a full-grown body to continue the same,

notwithstanding its being sometimes fatter, and some
times leaner ; even as they suppose the substance of
a wall to be the same before and after it is plaistered,
or painted.
They therefore do not ascribe to it iand diversity of substance, but a
of
person,
dentity
real and proper identity both of substance and per
Of the identity of the body while increasing in
son.
in the same way, as of
stature, they conceive, nearly
the identity of vegetables
they know in what re
and in what respects u
spects it continues the same,
becomes different ; there is no confusion in their no
tions ; they never suppose it to be different in those
:

respects in which they

know

it to

be the same.

When
human

philosophers speak of the identity of the

body, they must mean, not that its substance

the same, for this they say is perpetually chang

in respect of its
having
ing ; but that it is the same,

is

along animated with the same vital and

thinking principle, distinguished by the same name,
marked with the same or similar features, placed in
It must-be obvious
the same relations of life, &c
to the intelligent reader^ that the difficulties attend
ing this subject arise not from any ambiguity or in
tricacy in our notions or judgments, for these are
extremely clear, but from our way of expressing
them the particulars in which an object continues
the same, are often so blended with tjiose in which
it has become different, that we cannot find
proper
words for marking the distinction, and therefore
must have recourse to tedious and obscure circum

been

all

locutions.

But whatever judgments we form

of the identity

of corporeal objects, we cannot from them draw

any
inference concerning the identity of our mind.
cannot ascribe extension or
to the soul, far

We

less

any

solidity
increase or diminution of solid or
2

extended

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

58

FART

I.

Here, therefore, there is no ground for dis

tinguishing diversity of substance from identity of
Our soul is the very same being now it
person.
parts.

was yesterday,

This
year, twenty years ago.
sense, an intuitive truth, which
ail mankind, by the law of their nature, do and must
believe, and the contrary of which is inconceivable.
is

a dictate of

last

common

V/e have perhaps changed many of our principles

we may have acquired many new ideas and notions,
and lost many of those we once had
but that the
:

substance, essence, or personality, of the soul, has

suffered any change, increase, or diminution, we never
have supposed, nor can suppose. New faculties have

perhaps appeared, with which we were formerly un

acquainted ; but these we cannot conceive to have
affected the identity of the soul, any more than lear
ning to write, or to play on a musical instrument, is
conceived to affect the identity of the hand ; or than
the perception of harmony the first time one hears
music, is conceived to affect the identity of the ear*.
*

beg leave

to quote a

few

lines

from an excellent

poem, written by an author, whose genius and virtue were

an honour to his country, and to human nature
:

"

"

4<

**
"

"

"

Am I but what I seem, mere flesh and blood

A branching channel, and a mazy flood

The

purple stream, that through my vessels glides,

Dull and unconscious flows like common tides.
The pipes, through which the circling juices stray,
Are not that thinking I, no more than they.
This frame compacted with transcendent skill,

Of moving joints,

obedient to

my

will,

Nursed from the fruitful glebe like yonder tree,

Waxes and wastes I call it MINE not ME.
New matter still the mouldering mass sustains j
The mansion changed, the tenant still remains,
And, from the fleeting stream repaired by food,
Distinct, as is the swimmer from the flood."
1SO
ARBUTHNOT. See Dodsley*.s Collection^ vol. 1.
"

"

"

"

"

"

/>.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

IT.

59

if we perceive our identity by consciousness,

the acts of consciousness by which we perceive
it be interrupted, how can we know that our identity
is not interrupted ? I answer, The law of our na
ture determines us, whether we will or not, to be

But

and

if

lieve

The

that we continue the same thinking beings.

interruption of consciousness, whether more or

less frequent,

makes no change

in this belief.

My
Am

perception of the visible creation is every moment

I
interrupted by the winking of my eyes.
therefore to believe, that the visible universe, which
I this moment perceive, is not the same with the
visible universe I perceived last moment ?
Then
must I also believe, that the existence of the uni
verse depends on the motion of my eye-lids ; and that
the muscles which move them have the power of
creating and annihilating worlds.
To conclude That our soul exists, and continues
through life the same individual being, is a dictate
of common sense ; a truth which the law of our na
ture renders it impossible for us to disbelieve; and
in regard to which, we cannot suppose ourselves in
an error, without
supposing our faculties fallacious,
and consequently disclaiming all conviction, and all
certainty, and disavowing the distinction between
truth and falsehood.
:

E C T

Of tie

PHE evidence
J~

ON

IV.

Evidence of Memory.

of

memory commands our

effectually as that of sense.

belief as

T cannot

possibly
doubt, with regard to any of my transactions of
yes
terday which I now remember, whether I perform
ed them or not.
That I dined to-day, and was in

bed

last night, is as certain to

me, as that I at pre
sent see the colour of this
paper. If we had no me^

mory, knowledge and experience would be impossi

ble j, and if we had
any tendency to distrust our ratfi.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

60

PART

I.

mory, knowledge and experience would be of as lit

tle use in directing our conduct and sentiments, as
our dreams now are. Sometimes we doubt, whe
ther in a particular case

we

exert

memory

or

ima

and our belief is suspended accordingly

gination
but no sooner do we become conscious, that we remember, than conviction instantly takes place ; we
:

say, I

am

certain it

was

now

so, for

remember

was an eye-witness.

But who is it that teaches the child to believe,

that yesterday he was punished, because he remem
bers to have been punished yesterday ? Or, by what
argument will you convince him, that, notwithstan
ding his remembrance, he ought not to believe that
he was punished yesterday, because memory is fal
The matter depends not on education or
lacious ?

We

trust to the evidence of memory,

reasoning.
because we cannot help trusting to it. The same
Providence that endued us with memory, with
out any care of ours, endued us also with an instinc
tive propensity to believe in it,, previously to all rea

Nay, all reasoning suppo

soning and experience.
ses the testimony of memory to be authentic
for,
:

without trusting implicitly to this testimony, no

train of reasoning could be prosecuted ; we could ne
ver be convinced, that the conclusion is fair, if we
did not remember the several steps of the argument,
and if we were not certain that this remembrance i s
not fallacious.

The

diversities of

very remarkable

memory

in different

and in the same

man

the

men are
remem

brance of some things is more lasting, and more

of me
lively than that of others. Some of the ideas
time j
of
to
seem
mory
decay gradually by length
so that there may be some things which I distinctly
remember seven years age, but which at present I

remember very
years more Cif I
forgotten.

imperfectly, and
live so long)

which

shall

Hence some have been led

in seven
have utterly

to think, that

CHAP.

II.

the evidence of

AN ESSAV ON TRUTH.

memory

tfl-

decays gradually, from ab

solute certainty, through all the degrees of probabi

down to that suspense of judgment uhich we
lity,
call doubt.
They seem to have imagined, that the
is in some sort necessary to the
vivacity of the idea
* has
establishment of belief. Nay, one author
gone
so far as to say, that belief is nothing else but this
if we never believed what we
vivacity of ideas j as
have no lively conception of, nor doubted of any

have a lively conception. But

thing of which we
this doctrine is so absurd, that it hardly deserves a
serious confutation. I have a much more lively idea
of Don Quixote than of the present King of Prus
sia ; and yet I believe that the latter does exist, and

When I was a schoolread an abridgment of the history of Robin

son Crusoe, and believed every word of it ; since I
grew up, I have read that ingenious work at large,

that the former never did.

"boy,

and consequently have a much livelier conception of

than before ; yet now I believe the whole to be a
Some months ago I read the Treatise of
fiction.
Human Nature, and have at present a pretty clear
remembrance of its contents; but I shall probably

it

in a short time.
forget the greater part
I ought not, according to
theory, to believe that I ever read it.

When

this

Mr HUME

happens,

As

long s

my faculties remain unimpaired, I fear

hardly be able to bring myself to this pitch of
No, no j I shall ever have good reason
scepticism.
to remember my having read that book, however
imperfect my remembrance may be, and however
however, as

I shall

I may have to congratulate myself

up
acquaintance with it.
The vivacity of a perception does not seem neeessary to our belief of the existence of the thing per

little

on

ground

my

I see a town afar off; its visible magnitude

more than an inch square, and therefore my

ceived.
is

not

* Treatise
of

Human

Nature, vol.

1. p, 1,

AN ESSAY ON

PRAT IV

TRUTH-.

perception of it is neither lively nor distinct ;. and

yet I as certainly believe that town to exist, as if I
were in the centre of it. I see an object in motion
on the top of yonder hill I cannot discern whether
it be a man, or a horse, or both ; I therefore exert
no belief in regard to the class or species of objects
to which it belongs, but I believe with as much as
surance that it exists, as if I saw it distinctly in all
have never any
its parts and dimensions.
doubt of the existence of an object so long as we are
sure that we perceive it by our senses, whether the
perception be strong or weak, distinct or confused r
but whenever we begin to doubt, whether the ob
ject be perceived by our senses, or whether we only
imagine that we perceive it, then we likewise begin
to doubt of its existence.
These observations are applicable to memory. I
;

We

saw

a certain object some years ago

it is less distinct now than

brance of
after I

saw

it

much

but

it

my remem
was the day

believe the evidence of

my me

at present as I did then, in

regard to
all the parts of it which I now am Conscious that I
remember. Let a past event be ever so remote in
time, if I am conscious that I remember it, I still
believe, with equal assurance, that this event didonce take place. For what is memory, but a con^
sciousness of our having formerly done or perceived
And if it be true, that something is
something ?
or
done
at this present moment, it will al*
perceived
ways be true, that at this moment that thing was
The evidence of memory does
perceived or done.
not decay in proportion as the ideas of memory become less lively ; as long as we are conscious that we
remember, so long will the evidence attending that
remembrance produce absolute certainty ; and abso
lute certainty admits not of degrees. Indeed, as was

mory

as

already observed, when remembrance becomes so ob

scure, that we are at a loss to determine whether
we remembtr or only imagine an event, in this case

CHAP.

belief will

ther

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

be suspended

till

63

we become

certain

whe

we remember or not whenever we become

we do remember, conviction instantly
;

certain that
arises.

Some have supposed

that the evidence of

memory

become uncertain, because we are not well

enough acquainted with the difference between me
is liable to

and imagination, to be able at all times to de

termine, whether the one or the other be exerted in
regard to the events or facts we may have occasion

mory

You say, that while you only

imagine an event, you neither believe nor disbebut that as
lieve the existence or reality of it
soon as you become conscious that you remember
real.
it to have been
it, you instantly believe
You must then know with certainty the difference
between memory and imagination, and be able to

to contemplate.
"

"

"

"

"

".tell

by what marks you distinguish the operations

44

of the former from those of the latter.

If you
cannot do this, you may mistake the one for the
other, and think that you imagine when you realu
ly remember, and that you remember when you
That belief, therefore, must be
only imagine.
very precarious and uncertain, which is built upon the evidence of memory, since this evidence
is so
apt to be confounded with the visionary exhibirions of imagination, which, by your own ac44
knowledgment, can never constitute a foundation
for true rational belief."
This is an objection,
"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

according to the metaphysical mode, which, without

consulting experience, is satisfied if a few plausible
words can be put together in the form of an argu
ment but this objection will have no credit with
those who acknowledge ultimate instinctive princi
ples of conviction, and who have more faith in their
:

own

feelings than

it:

the subtleties of logic.

vulgar are not able to give a sa

tisfactory account of the difference between memory
and imagination ; even philosophers have not al~
It is certain the

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

64

ways succeeded

PART

I,

in their attempts to illustrate this

Mr

HUME tells us, that ideas of memory

point.
are distinguished from those of imagination by the
This may some
superior vivacity of the former *.
times, but cannot always, be true for ideas of ima
gination are often mistaken for objects of sense ; i:

deas

of

must

often be

The former, therefore,

lively than the latter ; for, ac
HUME S own account, all ideas are

memory

cording to

never.

more

Mr

weaker than impressions, or informations of sensef.

Dreaming persons, lunatics, stage-players, enthusi
asts, and all who are agitated by fear, or other vio
lent passions, are apt to mistake ideas of imagina
tion for real things, and the perception of those ideas

And

for real sensation.

the

same thing

is

often ex

perienced by persons of strong fancy, and great sen

sibility of temper, at a time when they are not trou

bled with any

fits

of irrationality or violent pas

sion.

But whatever

difficulty

we may

find in defining

or describing memory, so as to distinguish it from

imagination, we are never at any loss about our own
meaning, when we speak of remembering and of ima
all know what it is to remember, and
gining.

We

what

to imagine ; a retrospect to former expe

rience always attends the exertions of memory; but
those of imagination are not attended with any such
I remember to have seen a lion, and
retrospect.
it is

"

can imagine an elephant or centaur, which I have

never seen
Every body who uses these words
knows very well what they mean, whether he be able to explain his meaning by other words or not.
The truth is, that when we remember, we generally

"

"

know
*

we remember when we imagine, we ge

know that we imagine | such is our conbti-

that

nerally

Treatise of

f Ibid.

Human

Nature, vol.

41.
In dreams indeed this

1. p.

153.

p.

is

but the delu*

not the case

>

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

65

We

therefore do not suppose the evidence

tution.
of memory uncertain, notwithstanding that we may
be at a loss to explain the difference between that fa

culty and imagination

this

difference is perfectly

known to every man by experience, though perhaps

no man can fully express it in words. There are
many things very familiar to us, which we have no
words to express.
I cannot describe or define,
either a red colour, which I know to be a simple ob
a com
ject, or a white colour, which I know to be
colours
but will any one hence
ignorant of their difference, so as
not to know, when I look on ermine, whether it be
white or red ? Let it not then be said, that because
we cannot define memory and imagination, therefore
we are ignorant of their difference every person of
a sound mind, knows their difference, and can with
certainty determine, when it is that he exerts the
one, and when it is that he exerts the other.
position of seven

infer, that I

am

SECT.

V.

Of Reasoning from the Effect to

T LEFT my chamber an hour ago,
*

tie Cause.

and

now

at

my

book on the table, the size, and bind

ing, and contents of which are so remarkable, that
I am certain it was not here when I went out
and
that I never saw it before.
1 ask, who
brought
this book
and am told, that no body has entered
my apartment since I left it. That, say I, is im
1 make a more particular
and a
possible.
inquiry
servant, in whose veracity I can confide, assures me,
that he has had his eye on my chamber-door the
return find

sions

of dreaming,

notwithstanding our frequent expe

rience of them, are never supposed to affect in the least

deg ree either the veracity cf ourfaculties, or the certain
See below, Part II. Chap. 2.
ty of our

knowledge.

Sect.2.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

66

PART

r,

whole day, and that no person has entered it but

myself only. Then, say i, the person who brought
this book must have come in by the window or the

Chimney ; for it is impossible that this book could

have come hither of itself. The servant bids me
remember, that my chimney is too narrow to admit
any human creature, and that the window is secured
on the inside in such a manner that it cannot be oI examine the walls ; it is epened from without.
vident no breach has been made ; and there is but
one door to the apartment. What shall I think ? If
the servant s report be true, and if the book have
not been brought by any visible agent, it must have
come in a miraculous manner, by the interposition of

some

invisible cause

without some cause

it

for

still

must

repeat, that

could not possibly have come

hither.

Let the reader consider the case, and deliberate

with himself whether I think irrationally on this
occasion, or express myself too strongly, when I
speak of the impossibility of a book appearing in
my chamber without some cause of its appearance,
I would not
willingly
a phenomenon to a miracle ; but still
a miracle is possible ; whereas it is absolutely im
possible that this could have happened without a
cause ; at least it seems to me to be as real an im
possibility, as that a part should be greater than
the whole, or that things equal to one and the same
And I
thing should be unequal to one another.
presume the reader will be of my opinion ; for, in all
my intercourse with others, and after a careful ex
amination of my own mind, I have never found any
reason to think, that it is possible for a human, or
for a rational creature, to conceive a thing beginning
to exist, and proceeding from no cause.
I pronounce it therefore to be an axiom, clear,

either visible or invisible.

refer such

whatever beginneth
certain, and undeniable, That
to exist, proceedeth from some cause."
1 cannot
"

"

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

67

to think, that the reverse of any geo

bring myself
the reverse of
metrical axiom is more absuid than
and therefore I am as certain of the truth of
this

I can be of the truth of the other ; and

without
contradicting myself, and doing
cannot,
violence to my nature, even attempt to believe othis, as

therwise.

Whether this maxim be intuitive or demonstra

but the
admit of some dispute
ble, may perhaps
;

determination of that point will not in the least af

If it be demonstrable,
fect the truth of the maxim.
we can then assign a reason for our belief of it if
it be intuitive, it is on the same footing with other
intuitive axioms ; that is, we believe it, because
the law of our nature renders it impossible for U3
:

to disbelieve

it.

In proof of this maxim it has been said, that no

But this truth is not more
thing can produce itself.
evident than the truth to be proved, and therefore is
no proof at all. Nay, this last proposition seems to
be only a different, and less proper, way of express
Nothing can produce itself ;
ing the same thing:
.

every thing produced, must be produced bythat is, every effect must proceed
;
that is, (for all effects being pos
;
terior to their causes, must necessarily have a be

that

is,

some other thing

from a cause and
*

every thing beginning to exist proceeds

Other arguments have been
cause."
offered in proof of this maxim, which I think are
sufficiently confuted by Mr HUME, in his treatise of
Human Nature *. This maxim therefore he affirms
and I allow, to be not demonstrably certain.
But he

ginning)
**

from some

further affirms, that it is not intuitively certain ; in

All certainty,"
I cannot agree with him.
arises from the comparison of ideas, and
says he,
from the discovery of such relations as are unalter-

which

"

"

"

"

able so long as the ideas continue the

*

B:>ok

1.* part 3. sect. 3.

same

but

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

68

PART

I.

the only relations * of this kind are resemblance,

proportion in quantity and number, degrees of any
quality, and contrariety ; none of which is implied
in the maxim, Whatever begins to exist,
proceeds
some cause : that maxim therefore is not in"from
"

"

"

"

tuitively

This argument, if it prove

would prove, that the maxim is not

certain."

any thing at
even certain

all,

we are here told, that it has not that

; for
character or quality from which all certainty arises.
But, if I mistake not, both the premises of this
In the first place, I cannot ad
syllogism are false.

mit,
ideas.

that
I

all

am

certainty arises from a comparison of

certain of the existence of myself and

of the other things that affect

my

senses

am

cer

and yet I cannot con

ceive, that any comparison of ideas is necessary to
produce these convictions in my mind. Perhaps I
cannot speak of them without using words expres
sive of relation ; but the*simple act or perception of
the understanding by which I am conscious of them,

tain, that

"

whatever

is,

is

;"

If
implies not any comparison that I can discover.
it did, then the simplest intuitive truth requires
proof, or illustration at least, before it can be ac
knowledged as truth by the mind ; which I presume

Whe
will not be found warranted by experience.
ther others are conscious of making such a compari
son, before they yield assent to the simplest intui
tive truth, I know not ; but this I know, that my
mind is often conscious of certainty where no such
comparison has been made by

rne.

acknowledge,

There are, according to Mr HUME, seven different

kinds of philosophical relation, to wit, Resemblance, Iden
of time and place, Proportion in quantity
tity, Relations
*

number, Degrees in any common quality, Contrariety,

and Causation. And by the word Relation he here means
ibat particular circumstance in which we may think pro

*>r

per to compare ideas.

I. p. 32.

See Treatise of Human Nature,

vof.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

indeed, that

zao

certain truth can

69

become

an object of

science, till it be expressed in words ; that, if express

ed in words, it must assume the form of a proposi

tion ; and that every proposition, being either affir

mative or negative, must imply a comparison of the
thing or subject, with that quality or circumstance

affirmed or denied, to belong to, or agree

and therefore I acknowledge, that in science
be said to arise from a comparison
all
certainty may
But the generality of mankind believe
of ideas.
many things as certain, which they never thought of

which
with

is

it:

An ordinary man believer,

expressing in words.
that himself, his family, his house, and cattle, exist
but, in order to produce this belief in his mind, is it
necessary, that ha compare those objects with the
general idea of existence or non-existence, so as to
>

discern their agreement with the one, or disagreement

with the other ? I cannot think it at least, if he has
:

ever made such a comparison, it must have been

without his knowledge ; for I am convinced, that, if
we were to ask him the question, he would not un
derstand us.

Secondly,

numerated

all

Mr HUME

apprehend, that

the relations which,

give rise to certainty.

same person to-day

has not e-

when

discovered,
certain, that I am the

am

was yesterday.

indeed will not allow that this

not help it; I arn certain

is

Mr HUME

possible *.

I can

notwithstanding ; and I
flatter mysdf, there are not
many persons in the
world who would think this sentiment of mine a
I s^y, then, I am
paradox.
certain, that I am the
same person to-day I was yesterday. Now, the re
lation expressed in this
proposition is net resem
blance, nor proportion in quantity and number, nor
degrees of any common quality, nor contrariety
it
:

is

a relation different

or sameness.

from

all

That London

these

is

identity
contiguous to the
many of the most
;

it

is

a proposition which
* See
Part 2-. chap. 2. sect 1. of this
Essay.

Thames,

is

2.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

I.

sensible people in Europe hold to be

certainly true ;
and yet the relation expressed in it is none of those
four which our author supposes to be the sole pro
For it is not in respect of re
prietors of certainty.
semblance, of proportion in quantity or number, of
contrariety, or of degrees in any common quality,
that London and the Thames are here compared, but

purely in respect of place or situation.

Again, that the foregoing maxim is neither intui
tively nor demonstrably certain, our author attempts
to prove from this consideration, that we cannot de
monstrate the impossibility of the contrary.
Nay,
the contrary, he says, is not inconceivable
for we
*
can conceive an object non-existent this moment,
and existent the next, without joining it to the idea of a cause, which is an idea altogether distinct
and different." But this I presume, is not a fair
Can we conceive a thing begin
state of the case.
and
to
exist,
ning
yet bring ourselves to think that a
cause is not necessary to the production of such a
If we cannot, (I am sure I cannot), then is
thing ?
the contrary of this maxim, when fairly stated, found
to be truly and properly inconceivable.
But whether the contrary of this maxim be incon
ceivable or not, the maxim itself may be intuitively
Of intuitive, as well as of demonstrable
certain.
It is a character of
truths, there are different kinds.
some, that their contraries are inconceivable such
But of many other
are the axioms of geometry.
"

"

"

"

intuitive truths, the contraries are conceivable.

"

hard body
the first
these propositions are equally conceivable
but I
is true, for I have a pen between my fingers
cannot prove its truth by argument ; therefore its
truth is perceived intuitively.
Thus far we have argued for the sake of argument,
and opposed metaphysic to metaphysic *, in order to
on the present subprove, that our author s reasoning

do

feel a

hard body

"

;"

do not

feel a

;"

* See
part

3.

chap. 2, of this Essay.

CHAP.

II.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
conclusive. It is now time to

?!

enter into the

not
merits of the cause, and consider the matter philoso
to fact and experience. And
phically that is, according
we bring it to a very short issue. The
in this
ject is

way

Whatpoint in dispute is, Whether this maxim,

ever begins to exist, proceeds from some cause,
be intuitively certain ? That the mind naturally and
"

"

and con
necessarily assents to it without any doubt,
siders its contrary as impossible, I have alreadyshewn ; the maxim, therefore, is certainly true.

That it cannot, by any argument, or medium of

proof, be rendered more evident than it is when first
apprehended by the mind, is also certain for it is
;

of itself as evident as any proposition that can be

urged in proof of it. If, therefore, this maxim be
true, (as every rational being feels, and acknowledgesj, it is a principle of common sense we be
lieve it, not because we can give a reason, but be
:

cause,

by the law of our nature, we must believe

it.

Our

opinion of the necessity of a cause to the pro

duction of every thing that has a beginning, is by
Mr HUME supposed to arise from observation and
It is true, that in our experience we
experience.
have never found any thing beginning to exist, and
proceeding from no cause ; but I imagine it will not
appear, that our belief of this axiom hath experience
for its foundation. For
it be remarked, that seme
children, at a time when their experience is very
scanty, seem to be as sensible of the truth of this
axiom, as -many persons arrived at maturity. I do
not mean, that they ever repeat it in the form of a
proposition or that, if they were to hear it repeated
in that form they would
instantly declare their as-*
sent to it
for a proposition can never be
rationally
le"t

assented

to,

except by those who understand the

it
but I mean, that these

words that compose

children have a natural

propensity to inquire aftet
the cause of any effect or event that
engages their
attention
which they would not do if the view of
-,

AN ESSAY ON fRUTH.

7*

PART

I.

an event or

effect did not

suggest to them, that a cause
Their curiosity in
necessary to its production.
asking the reasons and causes of every thing they
see and hear, is often very remarkable, and rises even

is

to impertinence ; at least it is called so when one is

not prepared to give them an answer. I have known
a child to break open his drum, to see if he could
discover the cause of its extraordinary sound ; and
that at the hazard of rendering the play thing unser
viceable, and of being punished for his indiscretion.
If the ardor of this curiosity were always propor
tioned to the extent of a child s experience, or to the
care his teachers have taken to make him attentive
to the dependence of effects on causes, we might then
ascribe it: to the power of education, or to a habit
But every one who has
contracted by experience.
had an opportunity of conversing with children, knows
that this is not the case ; and that their curiosity
cannot otherwise be accounted for, than by suppos
ing it instinctive, and, like all other instincts, strong
er in some minds, and weaker in others, independent

and education, and in consequence

ly on experience
of the appointment of that Being who had been
pleased to make one man differ from another in his
intellectual accomplishments, as well as in his fea
tures, complexion, and size. Nor let it be imagined,
because some children are in this respect more cu

rious than others,

that therefore the belief of this

maxim is instinctive in Some minds only the maxim

may be equally believed by all, notwithstanding this
:

For do we not find a similar diversity

diversity.
In the genius of different men ? Some men have a
to investigate
philosophical turn of mind, and love
causes, and to have a reason ready on every occasion ;
others are indifferent as to these matters, being inAnd yet I pre
grossed by studies of another kind.
sume it will be found, that the truth of this maxim
is felt

by every

man>

though perhaps
,

,,

me..i

rr.any
.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

never thought

of putting it in

words

7J

in the

form of

a proposition.

We

that this axiom is one of the

repeat, therefore,
which every rational mind
principles of common sense,
does and must acknowledge to be true ; not because

can be proved, but because the law of nature de

termines us to believe it without proof, and to look
it

upon

its

contrary as perfectly absurd, impossible,

and inconceivable.

The axiom now before us is the foundation of the

most important argument that ever employed human
reason
I mean that which, from the works that are
;

created, evinces the eternal power and

That argument, as far as
the Creator.

godhead of
it

resolves

axiom, is properly a demonstration,

being a clear deduction from a self-evident principle ;
and therefore no man can pretend to understand it
without feeling it to be conclusive.
So that what
itself into this

the Psalmist says of the atheist is literally true, He

a fool ; as really irrational as if he refused to be

is

convinced by a mathematical demonstration.

Nay,
he is. more irrational ; because there is no truth de
monstrated in mathematics which so many powers of
our nature conspire to ratify, and with which the
minds of the whole rational creation are so deeply
The contemplation of the Divine Na
impressed.
ture is the most useful and the most
ennobling
exercise in which our faculties can be engaged,
and recommends itself to every man of sound
judgment and good taste, as the most durable
and the most perfect enjoyment that can possibly fall
to the share of any created
Sceptics may
being.
wrangle, and mockers may blaspheme but the pious
man knows by evidence too sublime for their com
prehension, that his affections are not misplaced, and
that his hopes shall not be disappointed ; by evidence
;

which, to every sound mind, is fully satisfactory ;

but which to the humble and tender-hearted, is al
together overwhelming, irresistible, and divine.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

74

That many of the

objects in

PART;I-

nature have had a be

senses and memory,

ginning, is obvious to our own

or confirmed by unquestionable testimony
these,
therefore, according to the axiom we are here con
:

must be believed to have proceeded from a

cause adequate at least to the efFecrs produced. That
the whole sensible universe hath to us the appearance
of an effect, of something which once was not, and
xvhich exists not by any necessity of nature, but by
the arbitrary appointment of some powerful and in
telligent cause different from and independent on it
that the universe, I say, has this appearance,
and that it is what it appears to
cannot be denied
be, an effect ; that it had a beginning, and was not
from eternity, is proved by every sort of evidence
the subject will admit. And if so, we offer violence
to our understanding, when we attempt to believe
that the whole universe does not proceed from some
cause ; and we argue unphilosophically and irration
to disprove this natural and
ally, when we endeavour
universal suggestion of the human mind.
It is true, the universe is, as one may say, a work
sui generis, altogether singular, and such as we can
not properly compare to other xvorks ; because in
sidering,

deed all works are comprehended in

natural dictate of the mind by which

it.

we

But that
believe the

universe to have proceeded from a cause, arises from

our considering, it as an effect ; a circumstance in
perfectly similar to all works whatsoever.
singularity of the effect rather confirms (if that
be possible) than weakens our belief of the necessity
of a cause ; at least it makes us more attentive to

which

it is

The

the cause, and interests us more deeply in it. What

universe, but a vast system of works or ef
of them great, and others small; some
some
fects,
more and some less considerable ? If each of these
works, the least as well as the greatest, require a
cause for its production ; is it not in the highest de
gree absurd and unnatural to say, .that the whole is
is the

C.HAP. II.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

not the effect of a cause

75

Each link of

a great chain

must -be supported by something, but the whole chain

Nothing less than
may be supported by nothing
:

an ounce can be a counterpoise to an ounce, nothing

less than a pound to a pound ; but the wing of a gnat,
or nothing at all, may be a sufficient counterpoise to
Are not these as
ten hundred thousand pounds
sertions too absurd to deserve an answer ?
The reader, if he has the misfortune to be ac
quainted with Mr HUME S Essay on a particular
providence and a future state, will see, that these re
marks are intended as an answer to a very strange
argument there advanced against the belief of a Die:

*;

41
"

The

we

is an object
and
no
other object
;
unparalleled
quite singular
that has fallen under our observation bears any
similarity to it ; neither it nor its cause can be
"

ty.
"

universe,"

are told,

"

and
comprehended under any known species
therefore concerning the cause of the universe we
can form no rational conclusion at all."
1 ap
;

*4
"

man of sound judgment, whether that

of
his understanding, which prompts him
suggestion
to infer a cause from an effect, has any dependence
upon a prior operation of his mind, by which the

peal to any

effect in question is referred to its

genius or species.
he pronounces concerning any object which
he conceives to have had a beginning, that it must
have proceeded from some cause, does this judg
ment necessarily imply any comparison of that ob
ject with others of a like kind ? If the new object
were in every respect unlike to other objects, would

When

have any influence on his judgment? Would

he not acknowledge a cause to be as necessary fer
tile production of the most uncommon, as of the
most familiar object ? If therefore I believe, that
I myself owe my existence to some cause, because
there is something in my mind which necessarily

this

determines me to this belief, I must also, for the

very same reason, believe, that the whole universe

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

j6

PRAT

I.

have had a beginning) proceeds from

is the same.
If
I believe the first and not the second, I believe and
disbelieve the same evidence at the same time
I
believe that the very same suggestion of my under
standing is both true and false.
Though I were to grant, that, when an object isreducible to no known genius no rational inference,
can be made concerning its cause ; yet it will not
follow, that our inferences concerning the cause of.
(supposed

some

to

cause.

The evidence of both

the universe are irrational,

to believe that the universe

supposing it reasonable
had a beginning. If there.

universe any thing which is reducible

no known genius, let it be mentioned if there be
any presumption for the existence of such a thing,
let the foundation of that presumption be explained.
And, if you please, I shall, for argument s sake, ad

be in the
to

mit, that concerning the cause of that particular thing,

no rational conclusion can be formed* But it has

never been asserted, that the existence of such a thing

Mr HUME only asserts,,

either real or probable.
that the universe itself, not any particular thing in
Well
the universe, is reducible to no known genius.
?
?
me
the
let
What
universe
word
is
then,
ask,
No ; it is a vast collection of things. Are all these
is

Mr HUME does not

things reducible to genera ?
it
Each
of
these
deny
things, then, if it had a be

What
ginning, must also have hadacause ? It must.
thing in the universe exists uncaused ? Nothing.
It seems,
Is this a rational conclusion ? So it seems.
then, that though it be rational to assign a cause to
every thing in the universe,, yet to assign a cause.
It is shameful
to the universe is noc rational
In fact, this argument
thus to trifle with words.
of Mr HUME S,, so highly admired by its Au
It is founded on a dis
thor, is no argument at all.
!

tinction that

is

perfectly

shillings laid on a table

inconceivable.

make

Twenty

pound though you.

take up these twenty shillings, yet have you not ta
ken up the pound you have only taken up twenty;..
j

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

77

If the reader cannot enter into this dis

shillings.

never be able to conceive in what

tinction, he

the force of

Mr HUME

ill

argument

consists.

If the universe had a beginning, it must have had a

This is a self-evident axiom, or at least an
cause.

We

undeniable consequence of one.

necessarily as
such is the law of our nature. If we de
sent to it
ny it, we cannot, without absurdity, believe any
we at the same
thing else whatsoever j because
time deny the authenticity of those instinctive sugges
The
tions which are the foundation of all truth.
Atheist will never be able to elude the force of this
argument, till he can prove, that everything in nature
exists necessarily, independently, and from eter
;

nity.
If

Mr HUME

argument be found

to turn to so

account, from the simple consideration of the

universe, as existing, and as having had a beginning,
it will appear (if possible) still more irrational, when
we take a view of the universe, and its parts as of
works curiously adapted to certain ends. Their ex
istence displays the necessity of a powerful cause ;
their frame proves the cause to be intelligent, good,
and wise. The meanest of the works of nature
(if any of Nature s works may be called mean),
the* arrangement necessary for the production of the
little

smallest plant, requires in the cause a degree of

pow

and wisdom, which infinitely tran

scends the sublimest exertions of human ability.
What then shall we say of the cause that produces

er, intelligence,

an animal, a rational soul, a world, a system of

worlds, an universe? Shall we say, that infinite pow
er and wisdom are not necessary attributes of that
universal cause, though they be necessary attributes
of the cause that produces a plant ?
Shall we
say, that the maker of a plant may be acknowled
ged to be powerful, intelligent, and wise ; because
there are many other things in nature that resemble
a plant j but that we cannot
rationally acknowledge

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

78

PART

I.

maker of

the universe to be wise, powerful, or

there is nothing which the uni
because
intelligent,
verse resembles, or to which it may be compared ?

the

Can

the

man who argues

in this

words ?
meaning
For an answer to the other

manner have any

to his

thrown out by

cavils

Mr HUME, in this flimsy essay against

divine attri
butes, the reader is referred to the first part of Butler s Analogy of Natural and Revealed Religion.
It needs not be matter of any surprise, that we name,
tiic

on this occasion, a book which was published before

Mr HUML S essay was written. With infidel wri
ters it has long been the fashion, (less frequently in
deed with this author than with many others), to
deliver as their own, and as entirely new, objections
against religion, which have been repeatedly and un
answerably confuted. This piece of craft gives no
offence to their disciples ; these gentlemen, if they
read at all, generally causing to confine their inqui
ries to
is

one side of the controversy

a considerable saving in

to

themselves

it

the articles of time and

invention.

SECT.

VI.

Of Probable or Experimental Reasoning.

TN
*

our reasonings from the cause to the effect,

on a supposition, and a belief, that
the course of nature will continue to be in time to
come what we experience it to be at present, and
remember it to have been in time past. This pre
sumption of continuance is the foundation of all our
judgments concerning future events ; and this, in
many cases, determines our conviction as effectually
as any proof or demonstration whatsoever ; al
though the conviction arising from it be different in
kind from what is produced by strict demonstration,
as well as from those kinds of conviction that attend
all

we proceed

memory, and abstract intui

in reasoning
highest degree of conviction

the evidence of sense,

tion.

The

A\*

CH.i.P. II.

from causes

F..ffSAY

to effects,

is

OX TUL

cxued

jworrt/ certain

the inferior degrees result from that specie:; of cv:pence which is called probability or vtrutimiliti
That all men will die that the sun will rise to;

mo rrovv,

and the sea ebb and flow ; that sleep

continue to refresh, and food to nourish- us that {.he
same articulate sounds which to-day communicate
the ideas of virtue and vice, meat and drink, man
and beast, will to-morrow communicate the same ino man can doubt, with
deas to the same persons
In these, and in all othes
out being accounted a fool.
instances where our experience of the past has bea
equally extensive and uniform, our judgment con
we
cerning the future amounts to moral certainty
believe, with full assurance, or at least without doubt
that the same laws of nature which have hitherto
operated, will continue to operate as long as we
foresee no cause to interrupt or hinder their oper;

ation.

But no person who attends

to his

own mind

will

say, that, in these cases, our belief, or conviction,

or assurance, is the eifect of a proof, or of any thing
like it.
If reasoning be at all employed, it is
in order to give us a clear view of
ence with regard to the point in

this

sary

When
question.
obtained, reasoning is no longer neces
the mind, by its own innate force, and in con

view
;

only
our past experi

is

sequence of an irresistible and instinctive impulse,

infers the future from the
past immediately, and
without the intervention of any argument. The sea
has ebbed and flowed twice
every day in time past ;
therefore the sea will continue to ebb and flow twice
every day in the time to come, is by no means a
logical deduction of a conclusion from premises *.
When our experience of the past has not been uniform
* This remark was

first

made by

Mr HUME.

See

it

illustrated at
great length in his Essays, part 2. sect. 4.
See also Dr
Campbell * Dissertion on Miracles, p. 13, 14,

8o

AN

ON TRUTH.

ESS AT

PART

I,

nor extensive, our opinion with regard to the fuf.ire

falls short of moral certainty ; and amounts
oiJy to
a greater or less degree or smaller proportion of
favourable instances
we say, such an event will
such
another
is
happen,
probably
wholly improbable.
If a medicine has proved salutary in one instance,
and failed in five, a physician would not chuse to re.
commend it, except in a desperate case ; and would
then consider its success as a thing rather to be wished
than expected. An equalnumber of favourable and un
favourable instances leave the mind in a state of
suspense, without exciting the smallest degree of as
surance on either side, except, perhaps, what may
arise from our being more interested on the one side
than on the other.
physician influenced by such
evidence would say, *
patient may recover, and
*
he may die
I am sorry to say, that the former
one whit more probable than the lat"event is not
**
-When the favourable instances exceed the
ter."
unfavourable in number, we begin to think the fu
ture event in some degree probable ; and more or less
so, according to the surplus of favourable instances.
few favourable instances, without any mixture of
nnfavourable ones, render an event probable in a
pretty high degree but the favourable experience
must be at once -extensive and uniform, before it
can produce moral certainty.
man brought into being at maturity, and placed
In a desert island, would abandon himself to despair,
/vhen he first saw the sun set, and the night come
on ; for he could have no expectation that ever the
day would be renewed. But he is transported with
he again beholds the glorious orb appear
]oy, when
in
the
east, and the heavens and the earth illumi
ing
He again views the declining sun
nated as before.
with apprehension, yet not without hope ; the second
than the first, but is still very
niglit is less dismal
uncomfortable on account of the weakness of the
instance. Ae
probability produced by one favourable
:

My

CHAP.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

AN

II.

8l

grow more numerous, the probability

becomes stronger and stronger yet it may be ques
circumstances would
tioned, whether a man in these
ever arrive at so high a degree of moral certainty in
who know, not only
this matter, as we experience
that the sun has risen every day since we began to
exist, but also that the same phenomenon has happen,
ed regularly for more than five thousand years, with
the instances

The judgment of
out failing" in a single instance.
our great epic poet appears no where to more advan

book ; where Adam relates to

tage than in his eight
the atigel what passed in his mind immediately after
The following passage is at
his awaking into life.
once trunscendently beautiful, and philosophically
just

While

"

fl
*

"

"

"

4i

thus I call d, and stray d I

From where

drew

knew not

whither,

and first beheld

This happy light, when answer none return M,
On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers,
Pensive I sat
First found

My

I first

me down

me, and with

droused sense

air,

there gentle sleep

soft

d
I thought

oppression seiz

untroubled, though

I then was passing to my former state

and forthwith to dissolve

Insensible,

*."

Paradise Lost, b. 8.

Adam

1.

283,

time had no experience of sleep, and

therefore could not, with any probability, expect that
he was to recover from it. Irs approaches were at
tended with feelings similar to those he had experien
ced when awaking from non-existence, and would na
turally suggest that idea to his mind ; and as he had
at this

no reason to expect that his life was to continue,

would intimate the probability that he was

again

upon the verge of an insensible stale.

Now it is evident, from what has been already said,
that the degree of probability must be
intuitively
* The beauty of these lines did not
escape the elegant
and judicious Addison j but that author does not
reason of his approbation.

assigiTthe

Spect.

No.

345-.

A!? JCbSAY

OU TRUTH

r .the,
-degree of assurance spontaneous v
instinctively excited in the mind, upon the bare
consideration of the instances on either side ; and that
!

;-ud

uTi of
argument to connect the fntvrz evirnt with the .past experience.
Reasoning may
i)e employed in
bringing the instances into view ;

but when
>1

ti-

it is

done,

it is

no longer necessary. And

you were

him

th;:t

to argue with a man,, in order to convince

a
terrain future event is not so im

probable as he seems to think, you would only make

him take notice of same favourable instance which
lie had overlooked, or endeavour to render him sus
of some of the unfavourable in
picious of the reality
stances ; leaving it to himself to estimate the degree
If he continue refractory, notwith
of probability.
standing that his view of the subject is the same with
yours, he can be reasoned with in no other way, than
by your appealing to the common sense of mankind.

SECT.

VII.

Of Analogical Reasoning.
from

when

analogy,
REASONING
source, will be found in like
its

traced

manner

up to
to ter

minate
in us

in a certain instinctive propensity, implanted

by our Maker, which leads us to expect, that

similar causes in similar circumstances, do probably

produce, or will probably produce, similar effects.
The probability which this kind of evidence is fit
ted to illustrate, does, like the former, admit of a
vast variety of degrees, from absolute doubting up
When the ancient philosopher
to moral certainty.

who was

shipwrecked in a strange country, disco

vered certain geometrical figures drawn upon the
sand by the sea-shore, he was naturally led to be
lieve, with a degree of assurance not inferior to mo
ral

certainty, that

men, some of
like himself.

the country was inhabited by

of study and science,

whom were men

Had

these figures been less regular,

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

83

and liker the appearance of chance-work, the pre

sumption from analogy, of the country being inha
bited, would have been weaker ; and had they been
of such a nature as left it altogether dubious, whe
ther they were the work of accident cr of design,
the evidence would have been too ambiguous to
serve as a foundation for any opinion.

e argue from a fact

In reasoning from analog} ,
or thing experienced to something similar not expe
rienced ; and from our view of the former arises an
opinion with regard to the latter ; which opinion will
be found to imply a greater or less degree of assur

ance, according as the instance yro/ra which we argue

is more or less similar to the instance to which we ar

gue.

Why

the degree of our assurance

is

determined

the degree of likeness, we cannot tell ; but we

know by experience, that this is the case and by ex

by

perience also
is,

we know,

that our assurance,

arises immediately in the mind, whenever

such

as

it-

we fix our

which the probableexpected, so as to trace their resemblance to

those circumstances in which we have known a simi
lar event to take place.
child who has been
attention on the circumstances in

event

is

burnt with a red-hot coal, is careful to- avoid touch

ing the flame of a candle j for aa, the visible quali
ties of the latter are like to those of the former, he
expects, with a very high degree of assurance, that
the effects produced by the candle, operating on
will be similar to those produced by
the burning coal.
And it deserves to be remar
ked, that the judgment a child forms- oa these
his fingers,

occasions

may arise, and often doth arise, previ

ous to education and reasoning, and while expe
rience is very limited.
Knowing that a lightedcandle is a dangerous object, he will be
shy of touch
ing a glow-worm, or a piece of wet fish shining in
the dark, because of their resemblance to the flame
of a candle
but as this resemblance is but

imper
judgment, with regard to the consequences
:

fect, his

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

84

PART

I.

of touching these objects, will probably be more in

clined to doubt, than in the former case, where the
instances were more similar.
Those who are acquainted with astronomy, think
U extremely probable, that the planets are inhabi
ted by living creatures, on account of their
being in
all other respects so like to our earth.
man who

thinks them not much bigger than they appear to

the eye, never dreams of such a notion ; for to him
they seem in every respect unlike to our earth and
there is no other way of bringing him over to the
astronomer s opinion, than by explaining to him
those particulars in which the planets and our earth
resemble one another.
As soon as he comprehends
these particulars, and this resemblance, his mind of
its own accord admits the probability of the new owithout being led to it by any medium of
i>inion,
proof, connecting the facts he hath experienced with
other similar and probable facts lying beyond the
Such a proof indeed could
reach of his experience.
If he were not convinced of the pro
not be given.
bability by the bare view of the facts, you would
:

his perseverance in his old opinion, either to

obstinacy, or to w ant of common sense ; two men
ial disorders for which logic provides no remedy.

impute

SECT.

VIII.

Faith

Testimony.

Of

in

r ~PHERE are in the world

-*-

and of

^een,

many men, whose

de-

which they have

which they are competent judges,

claration concerning

my belief
my own senses.

would engage

any

as

fact

effectually as

the evi

metaphysician may tell

in testimony is unconfidence
this
implicit
-me, that
a logician, and that my
and
a
of
philosopher
xvorthy
It may be so ; but
faith ought to be more rational.
And I find,
I believe as before notwithstanding.
dence of

that

all

mony

men have

the same confidence in the testi

and that if a man should
j

of certain persons

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

refuse to think as other

men do

85

in this

matter, he

called obstinate, whimsical, narrow-min

If, after the experience of so many
ded, and a fool.
are
men
still disposed to believe the word of
ages,
an honest man, and find no inconvenience in doing
so, I must conclude, that it is not only natural, but

would be

manly, to credit such tes

timony and though I were to peruse volumes of
metaphysic written in proof of the fallability of tes

rational, expedient, and

:

timony, I should still, like the rest of the world,

believe credible testimony without fear of inconve
nience.
I know very well, that testimony is not
admitted in proof of any doctrine in mathematics,
because the evidence of that science is quite of a dif-ferent kind.
But is truth to be found in mathema
tics only

is

the geometrician the only person who

we never find conviction

exerts a rational belief? do

arise in

our minds, except when

we contemplate an

intuitive axiom, or run over a mathematical demon

stration ?
In natural philosophy, a science not in

pure mathematics

in the certainty of its

admitted as a sufficient
proof of many facts. To believe testimony, there
fore, is agreeable to nature, to reason, and to sound

ferior

to

conclusions, testimony

is

philosophy.

When we

the declaration of an honest

which he has had expe
rience, we suppose, that by the view or percep
tion of these facts, his senses have been affected in
the same manner as ours would have been if we had

man,

been

believe

in regard to facts of

in his place.

So that

faith

in

testimony

is

part resolvable into that conviction which is produ

ced by the evidence oi sense at least, if we did not
believe our senses, we could not, without absurdi
ty, believe testimony ; if we have any tendency to
doubt the evidence of sense, we must, in regard to
:

Those philoso
testimony, be equally sceptical.
phers, therefore, who would persuade us to reject
the evidence of sense, among whom are to be rec-

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

86
koned

PART

I.

who deny

the existence of matter, are not

to be considered as mere theorists, whose specula
tions are of too abstract a nature to do any harm, but
all

men

of the most dangerous principles.

Not ta
effects of such doctrine upon science
in general *, I would only at present call upon the
reader to attend to its influence upon OUT religious
as

mention the bad

opinions and historical knowledge.

Testimony is
the grand external evidence of Christianity.
All
the- miracles wrought by our Saviour, and particu
larly that great decisive miracle, his resurrection
from the dead, were &o many appeals to the senses
of men, in proof of his divine mission and what
:

ever some unthinking cavillers may object, this we

affirm to be not only the most proper, but the only
proper, kind of external evidence, that can be em
ployed, consistently with man s free agency and mo
ral probation, for establishing a popular and univer
sal religion among mankind. Now, if matter has no
existence but in our mind, our senses are deceit
and if so, St Thomas must have been deceived
ful
when he felt, and the rest of the apostles when they
:

saw, the body of their Lard after his resurrection ;

and all the facts recorded in history, both sacred and
civil, were no better than dreams or delusions, with

which perhaps St Matthew, St John, and St Luke,

Thucydides, Xenophon, and Cesar were affected,
but which they had no more ground of believing to
be

real,

than

have of believing, in consequence of my

having dreamed

it,

that I

was

last night in

Constanti

nople.
Nay, if I admit BERKELEY S and HUME S
the non-existence of matter, I must be
of
theory,
lieve, that what my senses declare to be true, is not
only not truth, but directly contrary to it. For does

not this philosophy teach, that what seems to human

sense to exist, does not exist ; and that what seems
are not existence and
corporeal is incorporeal ? and
*

See below, part 2. chap. 2.

sect,

2>

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

CHAP. II.

87

and immateriality, con

to believe the contrary
of what their senses declare to be true, the evidence
of all hi story, of all testimony, and indeed of all ex
ternal perception, is no longer any .evidence of the
reality of the facts warranted by it ; but becomes,
on the contrary, a proof that those facts did never
happen. If it be urged, as an objection to this rea
soning, that BERKELEY was a Christian, notwith

non-existence, materiality
traries

Now,, if men ought

standing his scepticism (or paradoxical belief) in other matters; I answer, that though he maintained
the doctrine of the non-existence of body, there is
no evidence that he either believed or understood
it
nay, there is positive evidence that he did nei
ther ; as I shall have occasion to show afterwards*.
Again, when we believe a man s word, because
we know him to be honest, or, in other words, have
:

had experience of his

veracity, all reasoning on such

testimony is supported by the evidence of expe
rience, and by our presumption of the continuance
the first evidence resolves
of the laws of nature
itself into instinctive conviction, and the second is
itself an instinctive presumption.
The principles of
common sense, therefore, are the foundation of all
true reasoning concerning testimony of this kind.
It is said by MrHfc?M,in his Essay an Miracles,
that our belief of any fact from the report of eye
witnesses is derived from no other principle than ex
perience ; that is, from our observation of the vera
city of human testimony, and of the usual conformi
:,

This doctrine
ty of facts to the report of witnesses.
is confuted with great elegance and precision, and
with invincible force of argument, in Dr Campbell s
Dissertation on Miracles.
It is, indeed, like most
of Mr HUME S capital doctrines, directly repugnant
for our credulity is greatest when
to matter of fact
:

our experience

is

least: that

is,

when we

are

* See
part 2. chap. 2. sect, 2, of tnis Essay.

$8

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

Atf

PART

I.

and generally grows less and less, in propor

;
tion as our experience becomes more and more ex
dren

the very contrary of which must happen, if

S doctrine were true.
a man a propensity to believe
There is then
testimony antecedent to that experience, which
tensive

Mr HUME

Mr

HUME

supposes, of the conformity of facts to the re

But there is another sort of ex
of
witnesses.
port
perience, which may perhaps have soirre influence in
Man
determining children to believe in testimony.
is

naturally disposed to speak as he thinks

and most

men do so for the most egregious liars speak truth

a hundred times * for once that they utter falsehood.
It is unnatural for human creatures to falsify
and
:

they never think of departing from the truth, except

they have some end to answer by it. Accordingly
children, white their native simplicity remains uncorruptcd, while they have no vice to disguise, no
punishment to fear, and no artificial scheme to pro

mote, do for the most part, if not always, speak as

they think and so generally is their veracity ac
knowledged, that it has passed into a proverb, That
Now I am not cer
children and fools tell truth.
tain, but this their innate propensity to speak truth,
:

may

in part account for their

what others speak.

readiness to believe

They do

not suspect the veraeity of others, because they are conscious and con
fident of their own.
However, there is nothing ab
surd or unphilosophtcal in supposing, that they be
lieve testimony by one law of their nature, and
speak truth by another. I seek not therefore to re
solve the former principle into the latter ; I mention
them for the sake only of observing, that whether
they be allowed to be different principles, or differ

same principle, our general doc

trine remains equally clear, namely, That all rea
soning concerning the evidence of testimony does fient effects of the

See

Dr Reid

Inquiry into the

Human Miad,

p.

474,

CHAP.

II.

nally terminate

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH,
in the principles of common

sense.
This is true, as far as our faith in testimony is re
solvable iato experi mental conviction ; because we
have already shown, that all reasoning from expe

rience is resolvable into intuitive principles, either

and surely it is
of certain or of probable evidence
:

less true, as far as jour faith in testimony is itself

instinctive, and such as cannot be resolved into any

no

liigher principle.

Our

testimony does often, but not always,

That there is such a
city as Constantinople, such a country as Lapland^
and such a mountain as the peak of TeneriiFe ; that
there were such men as Hannibal and Julius Cesar;

amount

that

frith in

to absolute certainty.

England was conquered by

was beheaded

that Charles I.

Vv illiam the
;

Norman ;

of these, and such

truths,
every person acquainted with his
tory and geography accounts himself absolutely cer
tain. When a number of persons, not acting in con
cert, having no interest.to disguise the truth, and suf
ficient judges of that to which they bear
testimony,
concur in making the same report, it would be ac
counted madness not to believe them. Nay, when
a number of witnesses, separately examined, and
having had no opportunity to concert a plan before
hand, do all agree in their declarations, we make no
scruple of yielding full faith to their testimony, even
though we have no evidence of their honesty or
skill ; nay, though they be notorious both for kna
very and folly because the fictions of the human
mind being infinite, it is impossible that each of
these witnesses should, by mere accident, devise the
very same circumstances ; if therefore their declara
tions concur, this is a certain proof, that there is no
fiction in the case, and that they all speak from real
The inference we form
experience and knowledge.
on these occasions is supported by arguments drawn
from our experience ; and all arguments of this sor
are resolvable into the principles of common sense,,

like

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

90

PART

r.

In general, it will be found true of all our reasonings

concerning testimony, that they are founded, either
mediately or immediately, upon instinctive convic
tion or instinctive assent ; so that he who has re
solved to believe nothing but what he can give a
reason for, can never, consistently with this resolu
tion, believe any thing, either as certain or as pro
bable, upon the testimony of other men*

SECT.

IX.

Conclusion of this Chapter.

HP HE
*

conclusion to which

induction,

we

are led

by

the above

would perhaps be admitted by some

be self-evident, or at least to stand in no greatneed of illustration ; to others it might have been

proved a prioriin very few words ; but to the greater
part of readers, a detail of particulars may be ne
cessary, in order to produce that steady and iveltgronnded conviction which it is our ambition to es
to

tablish.

The argument

a priori might be comprehended in

the following words.

If there be any creatures in
human shape, who deny the distinction bet ween truth
and falsehood, or who are unconscious of that dis
tinction, they are far beyond the reaeh, and below

the notice, of philosophy, and therefore have no con

cern in this inquiry.
Whoever is sensible of that
distinction, and is willing to acknowledge it, must
confess, that truth is something fixed and determinate,
depending not upon man, but upon the Author of
nature.
The fundamental principles of truth must
therefore rest upon their own evidence, perceived in
If they did not, if
tuitively by the understanding.

reasoning were necessary to enforce them, they must

be exposed to perpetual vicissitude, and appear inider
a different form in every individual, according to the
peculiar turn and character of his reasoning powers.
Were this the case, no man could know, of any pro-

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

79

whether it were true or false, till after he

position,
had heard all the arguments that had been urged for
and against it ; and, even then, he could not know
with certainty, whether he had heard all that could
be urged future disputants might overturn the for
mer arguments, and produce new ones, to continue
unanswered for a while, and then submit, in their
:

Were this the case, there

turn, to their successors.
could be no such thing as an appeal to the common
sense of mankind, even as in a state of nature there
can be no appeal to the law ; every man would be
*
not in morals only, but in
a law unto himself,
science of every kind.

"

We

sometimes repine

scribed

to

human

at the

capacity.

narrow limits pre

Hitherto shalt thou

come, and no further, seems a hard prohibition, when

But as, in the
applied to the operations of mind.
material world, it is to this prohibition man owes his
security and existence ; so, in the immaterial system,

we owe our

dignity, our virtue, and our

beacon
from a well-known
blazing
happiness.
promontory is a welcome object to the bewildered
mariner ; who is so far from repining that he has
not the beneficial light in his own keeping, that he is
sensible its utility depends on its being placed on the
firm land, and commirted to the care of others.
have now proved, that
except we believe
many things without proof, we never can believe
it is

to this

We

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

any thing at all ; for that all sound reasoning must

ultimately rest on the principles of common sense,
that is, on principles intuitively certain, or intuitively probable ; and, consequently, that common
sense is the ultimate judge of truth, to which reason

must continually

act

in

subordination

*."

To

common
able

sense, therefore, all truth must be conform

this is its fixed and invariable standard.

And

whatever contradicts common sense, or

*

See part 1. chap. J. sub,

fin.

is

inconsis-

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

8o

PART

r.

with that standard, though supported by arguthat are deemed unanswerable, and by names
that are celebrated by all the oritics, academies, and
In
potentates on earth, is not truth, but falsehood.
f-ent

guments

a word, the dictates of common sense are, in respect

human knowledge in general, what the axioms of

to

geometry are in respect to mathematics on the sup

position that those axioms are false or dubious, all
mathematical reasoning falls to the ground ; and on
:

the supposition that the dictates of common sense

are erroneous or deceitful, all science, truth, and vir
tue are vain.
I

know

not but

it

may be urged

as an objection to

this doctrine, that, if we grant common sense to

the ultimate judge in all disputes, a great part

be
of

modern philosophy becomes useless. I

dmit the objection with all my heart, in its full force,
and with all its consequences and yet I must repeat,
that if common sense be supposed fallacious, all
knowledge is at an end ; and that even a demonstra
tion of the fallacy would itself be fallacious and fri
For if the dictates of, my nature deceive me
volous.
in one case, how shall I know that they do not de
ceive me in another? When a philosopher demon
strates to me, that matter exists not but in my mind,
and, independent on me and my faculties, has no ex
before I admit his demonstration, I
istence at all
must disbelieve all my. senses, and distrust every
before I admit his
principle .of belief within -me
be
I
must
convinced, that I and all
demonstration,
mankind arc fools ; that our Maker made us such,
and from the beginning intended to impose on us ;
and that it was not till about the six-thousandth year
of the world when this imposture was discovered ;
and then discovered, not by a divine revelation, not
by any rational investigation of the laws of nature,
not by any inference from previous truths of acknow
ledged authority, but by a pretty play of English
and French words, to which the learned have given
ancient and
J

CKAF.
the

AI7

II.

name

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

81

Before I admit

of metaphysical reasoning.

this pretended demonstration, I must bring myself

to believe what I find to be incredible ; which seems
to me not a whit less difficult than to perform what

And when all this is done, if it were

impossible.
be done, pray what is
possible that all this could
? Shall I
believe no
falsehood
or
or
truth,
science,
?
Or am I ca
thing ? or shall I believe every thing
pable either of belief, of of disbelief? or do I ex
is

ist

or

The

is

there such a thing as existence ?

all science, and indeed of every useful

end of

is to make men happier, by improving them

wisdom and virtue. I beg leave to ask, whether
the present race of men owe any part of their virtue,
wisdom, or happiness, to what metaphysicians have

pursuit,

in

written in proof of the non-existence of matter, and

the necessity of human actions ? If it be answered/
That cur happiness, wisdom, and virtue, are not at.
all affected by such controversies, then I must afAnd
fi-m, that all such controversies are useless.
if it be true, that they have a tendency to promote
wrangling, which of all kinds of conversation is the
most unpleasant, and the most unprofitable ; or vain
polemical disquisition,, which cannot be carried oa
without waste of time, and prostitution of talents ;
or scepticism, which tends to make a man uncomfor
table in himself, and unserviceable to others
then"
I must affirm, that all such controversies are both use
less and mischievous ; and that the world would be
:

more wise, more virtuous, and more happy, without

But it is said, that they improve the under
standing, and render it more capable of discovering
them.

Be it so
but though
truth, and detecting error.
bars and loeks render our houses secure ; and
though,
accuteness of hearing and feeling be. a valuable endowment ; it will not follow, that thieves are a public
blessing ; or that the man is intitled to my gratitude*
who quickens my touch and hearing, by putting out
my eyes.
:

H-2.

A ^ ESSAY ON TRUTH.

94

PART

I.

such controversies make

us sensible of the weakness of human reason, and the
imperfection of human knowledge ; and for the san
guinary principles of bigotry and enthusiasm, substitute the milky ones of scepticism and moderation.
And this is conceived to be of prodigious emolument
to mankind ; because a firm attachment to religion,
which a man may call bigotry if he pleases, doth
often give rise to a persecuting spirit
whereas a
perfect indifference about it, which some men are
It is further said,

that

good-natured enough to call moderation, is a princi

ple of great good-breeding, and gives no sort of dis
This is a
turbance, either in private or public life.
plea on which our modern sceptics plume themselves
And who will venture to arraign the
not a little.

or the sagacity of these projectors ? To ac

complish so great effects by means so simple j to pre
vent such dreadful calamities by so innocent an arti
does it not display the perfection of benevolence
fice,
and wisdom ? Truly I can hardly imagine such a%7 irtue

nother scheme, except perhaps the following.

Sup
pose a physician ofc the Sangrado school, out of zeal
for the interest of the faculty, and the public good,
to prepare a bill to be laid before the parliament, in
That whereas good health, especially
these words
when of long standing, has a tendency to prepare
the human frame for acute and inflammatory distempers, which have been known to give extreme
pain to the unhappy patient, and sometimes even
**
bring him to the grave ; and whereas the said
**
health, by making us brisk, and hearty, and happy,
"

"

"

"

"

(t
"

"

is

apt also,

on,

some

occasions, to

make

us disbr-

of glass
derly and licentious, to the great detriment
Be it therewindows, lanthorns, and watchmen
:

"

"

"

"

fore enacted, That all the inhabitants of these realms, for the peace of government, and the repose
of the subject, be compelled, on pain of death, to
habit ;
bring their bodies down to a consumptive
ato
walk
no
and that henceforth

person presume

CHAFi-H.
"

**
"

"

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

95

broad with a cane, on pain of having his head broke

with it, and being set in the stocks for six months j
nor to walk at all, except with crutches, to be delivered at the public charge to each person who

makes affidavit, that he is no longer able to walk

He who can eradicate con
without them," &c.
viction from the human heart, may doubtless prevent
all the fatal effects of enthusiasm and bigotry ; and
if all human bodies were thrown into a consumption,
I believe there would be an end of riot, as well as
"

"

of inflammatory diseases.

Whether

the inconveni

ences, or the remedies, be the greater grievance,

might

perhaps bear a question.

Bigotry, enthusiam, and
a persecuting spirit, are very dangerous and destruc
tive
universal scepticism, would, I am sure, be
equally so, if it were to infect the generality of man
But what has religion and rational conviction
kind.
to do with either ? Nothing more than good health
has to do with acute distempers, and rebellious in
surrections ; or than the peace of government, and
tranquillity of the subject, have to do with a gradual
True religion tends
decay of our muscular flesh.
to make men great, and good, and happy
and if so,
its doctrines can never be too
firmly believed, nor
;

held in too high veneration,

And

if

truth be at

all

attainable in philosophy, I cannot see why we should

scruple to receive it as such, when we have attained

how it can promote candour, good-bteediog,

and humanity, to pretend to doubt whit we do and
must believe, to profess to maintain doctrines of
which we are conscious- that they shock -our under
standing, to differ in judgment from all the world ex
cept a few metaphysical pedants, and to question the
evidence of those principles which all other men think
the most unquestionable, and most, sacred, Con vietion and steadiness of principle, is that which
gives
it; nor

dignity, uniformity, and spirit, to human conduct,

and without which our happiness can neither be las
It constitutes, as it were, the vital
ting nor sincere.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

96

PART

I.

stamina of a great and manly character ; whereas

scepticism betrays a weak and sickly understanding,
and a levity of mind, from which nothing can be ex
In conjunction
pected but inconsistence and folly.
ivith ill-nature, bad taste, and a hard heart, steadiness
and strong conviction will doubtless make a bad man,
and scepticism will make a worse but good-nature,
elegant taste, and sensibility of heart, when united
with firmness of mind, become doubly respectable
and lovely whereas no man can act on the princi
ples of scepticism, without incurring universal con
:

But to return
tempt.
Mathematicians, and natural philosophers, do in
:

effect admit the distinction between common sense

and reason, as illustrated above ; for they are content
to rest their sciences either on self-evident axioms,
or on experiments warranted by the evidence of ex

ternal sense.

The

philosophers

who

treat

of the

mind, do also sometimes profess to found their doc

but this profession
trines on the evidence of sense
for whenever experience contra
23 merely verbal
:

dicts the system,

they question the authenticity

that experience, and show you, by a

investigation, that it is all a cheat.

of.

most elaborate
For it is easy to

write plausibly on any subject, and in vindication of

any doctrine, when either the indolence of the reader,
or the nature of the composition, gives the writer an
opportunity to avail himself of the ambiguity of
It is not often that men attend to the olanguage.
ions of the mind ; and when they do, it is per
pe

haps with some metaphysical book in their hands,,

which they read with a resolution to admire or des
pise, according as the fashion or their humour directs
them. In this situation, or even when they are dis
posed to judge impartially of the Writer, their atten

what passes in their own mind is but super

and is very apt to be swayed by a secret bias
in favour of some theory. And then, it is sometimes
difficult to distinguish b^tvfeen a natural feeling and

tion to
ficial,

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

97

a prejudice of education ; and our deference to the

us think it more
opinion of a favourite author makes
difficult than it really is, and very often leads us to
mistake the one for the other. Nay, the very act of
a
studying discomposes our minds

little,

and prevents

that free play of the faculties from which alone we

Be
with accuracy of their real nature.
can

judge

sides, language, being originally

intended to answer

the obvious exigencies of life, and express the qua

lities of matter, becomes metaphorical when applied
Thus we talk metapho
to the operations of mind.
of a warm imagination, a
rically, when we speak
sound judgment, a tenacious memory, an enlarged

understanding ; these epithets being originally and

This
properly expressive of material qualities.
circumstance, however obvious, is not always attend
ed to 5 and hence we are apt to mistake verbal ana
logies for real ones, and to apply the laws of matter
to the operations of mmd ; and thus, by the mere
delusion of words, are led into error before we are aware, and while our premises seem to be altogether
It

unexceptionable.

is

a favourite

maxim with

was with some

ancient philosophers,
that the human soul, previous to education, is like a
piece of white paper, or tabula rasa ; and this simile,

LOCKE,

as it

harmless as

it

may

appear, betrays our great

modern

into several important mistakes.

It is indeed one of
the most unlucky allusions that could have been

chosen.
The human soul, when it begins to think,
not extended, nor inert, nor of a white colour, nor
incapable of energy, nor wholly unfurnished with

is

ideas, ( for, if

it

think at

all, it

must have some

ideas,

according to LOCKE S definition of the word*), nor as

susceptable of any one impression or character as of
*The word idea serves best to stand for whatsoever is
tae object of the
I
understanding when a man thinks.
have used it to express whatever it is which the mind can

be employed about
Introduction to

in

thinking.

Essay on

Human

Understanding,

sect. 8,

AN ESSAY ON TRUIH,

PART

t,

In what respect then does the human

soul resemble a piece of white paper ? To this philo
sophical conundrum I confess I can give no serious
answer.
Even when the terms we u^e are not meta
phorical, the natural abstruseness of the subject

any other.

makes them appear somewhat mysterious and we

are apt to consider them as of more significancy than
;

Mr

Had
HUME told the world in
they really are.
plain terms, that virtue is a species of vice, darkness
a sort of light, and existence a kind of non existence,
I know not what .metaphysicians might- have
thought
of the discovery but sure I am, no reader of toler
able understanding would have paid him any compli
;

ments upon it*. But when he says, that contrariety

a mixture of causation and resemblance
and, still
this most
more, when he brings a formal proof

is

of"

* Mr HUME bad
said, that the only principles of corrnexion among ideas are. three, to wit, resemblance, conti
guity in time or place, and cause or effect Inquiry CM*
:

It afterwards oc
cerning Human Understanding , sect. 3*
curred to him, that contrary ideas have a tendency to intrcrduce one another. into the mind. But instead of adding

contrariety to the list of connecting principles, .which he

ought to have done, and which would have been- philoscv
phical, he assumes the metaphysician, and endeavours to
prove his enumeration right, by resolving contrariety, as a
*

con
resemblance -and causation, as genera,
is a connexion
among ideas, which may
trariety," says he,
perhaps be considered as a mixture of causation and re**
semblance.
Where, two objects are contrary, the one

species, into

"

"

**
44
**

destroys the other, i. e. is the cause of its annihilation j

and tke idea of the annihilation of an object implies the

idea of

its

Is impossible to
former existence."
?
Darkness and light are contrary

make

the
j
any
one destroys the other, or is the cause of its annihilation j
and the idea of the annihilation of darkness implies the idea
This is given as a proof, that
of its former existence.
and partly is the r puse of
darkness partly resembles
light,
Indeed! But,
st sic omnia dixissei! .This" is a
light.
sense of this

harmless absurdity.

t HAP.

AN ESSAY OF TRUTH.

II.

99

the solemnity of
sage remark, he imposes on us by
more is meant
the expression ; we conclude, that
and begin to fancy, not that
than meets the ear
the author is absurd or unintelligible, but that we
have not sagacity enough to discover his meaning.
It were tedious to reckon up one half of the impro
prieties and errors which have been introduced into
the philosophy of human nature, by the indefinite
application of the words, idea, impression., perception,
sensation, &c.
Nay, it is well known, that BER
KELEY S pretended proof of the non-existence of mat
"

"

;"

ter,

at

which common sense stood aghast for many

years, has no better foundation, than the ambiguous

use of a word.
He who considers these things, will
not be much disposed to overvalue metaphysical truth,
(as it is called) when it happens to contradict any of

the natural sentiments of mankind.

la the laws of nature, when thoroughly understood,
there appear no contradictions
It is only in the sys
tems of philosophers that reason and common sense
:

are at variance.
No man of common sense ever did
or could believe, that the horse he saw coming to

wards him

was an idea in his mind, and

no thief was ever such a fool as to
his own defence, that his crime was necessary
at full gallop,

nothing else

plead in
and unavoidable, for that man is born to pick pockets
as the sparks
When Reason invades
fly upward.
the Rights of Common Sense, and presumes to.
arraign
that authority by which she herself acts, nonsense

and confusion must of necessity ensue ; science will

soon come to have neither head nor tail,
beginning
nor end philosophy will
grow contemptible ; and its
adherents, far from being treated, as in former times,
;

upon the footing of conjurors, will be thought by the

vulgar, and by every man of sense, to be little better
than downright fools.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

ico

PART

PART u.

II.

ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRECEDING DOC

TRINE, WITH INFERENCES.
now

difficulty
BUT
haps easy to solve.

which
Granting what

occurs,,.,

not per

it

is

is

said above-

to be true
that all legitimate reasoning, whether
of certain or of probable evidence., does finally re.
solve itself into principles of common sense, which
;,

we must admit
own authority

as certain, or as probable,

that therefore

common

upon their

sense

is the
foundation and the standard of all just reasoning;
and that the genuine sentiments of nature are never
erroneous
yet, by what criterion shall we know
a sentiment of nature from a prejudice of education,
a dictate of common sense from the fallacy of an in
veterate opinion ? Must every principle be admitted
as true, which we believe without being able to as
sign a reason ? then where is our security against
Or must every princi
prejudice and implicit faith
;

ple that seems intuitively certain, or intuitively pro

bable, be reasoned upon, that we may know whe
ther it be really what it seems ? then where our se

curity against the abuse so much insisting on, of

subjecting common sense to the test of reasoning
At what point must reason stop in its investigadons, and the dictates of common sense be admitted
as decisive and final ?
It is much to be regretted, that this matter has.
been so little attended to for a full and satisfactory,
discussion of it would do more real service to the
philosophy of human nature, than all the system.
of logic in the world ; would at once exalt pneuma
!

-a

it on atology. to the dignity of science, by settling,

firm and unchangeable foundation ; and would go a.
great way to banish sophistry from science, and rid
This is indeed the grand
the world of scepticism.

desideratum

in logic

of no less importance to

tha.;-

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

10

moral sciences, than the discovery of the longitude

That I shall fully solve this difficul
to navigation.

am

ty, I

But

not so vain, nor so ignorant, as to imagine.

I shall be able to throw some

humbly hope

and contribute a little to facili

light on the subject,
tate the progress of those who may hereafter engage
If I can accomplish even this,
in the same pursuit.
do a service to truth, philosophy, ?.nd man-,
should be thought to fail, there is yet
in the attempt.
To have set
meritorious
something
the example, may be of consequence.
I shall endeavour to conduct the reader to the
conclusion J have come to on this subject, by the
I shall

kind

same

if I

steps that led me thither ; a method which I

will be more perspicuous, and more satis

presume

fying, than if I were first to lay down a theory, and

then assign the reasons. By the way, I cannot help
expressing a wish, that this method of investiga
tion were less uncommon, and that philosophers

would sometimes explain to us, not only their dis

coveries, but also the process of thought and expe
riment, whether accidental or intentional, by which
they were led to them.
If the boundary of Reason and Common Sense
had never been settled in ar- science, I would aban
don my present scheme as altogether desperate. But

when

reflect,

that in

some of the

sciences

it

has

been long settled, with the utmost accuracy, and to

universal satisfaction, I conceive better hopes; and
flatter myself, that it
may perhaps be possible to fix
it even in the
philosophy of the mind. The sciences
in which this
boundary has been long settled and ac
knowledged, are, mathematics, and natural philoso
phy and it is remarkable, that more truth .has been
discovered in those sciences than in any other. Now,
there is not a more effectual way of learning the
;

rules of any art, than

by attending to the practice of

those who have performed in it most
successfully
a maxim which, I suppose, h no less applicable to
:

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

102

PART

II.

the art of investigating truth, than to the mechani

cal and the fine arts.
Let us see, then, whether, byattending to the practice of mathematicians and na
tural philosophers, as contrasted with the practice
of those who have treated of the human mind, we

can make any discoveries preparatory to the solution

of this difficulty.

CHAP.
Confirmation of this Theory

I.

from

the Practice

of

Mathematicians and Natural Philosophers.

SECT.
r

lpHAT
*
mon

I.

the distinction between Reason and ComSense, as here explained, is acknowledged

by mathematicians, we have already shown *. They

have been wise enough to trust to the dictates of
common sense, and to take that for truth which
they were tinder a necessity of believing, even tho
it was not in their power to prove it by argument.
When a mathematician arrives, in the course of his
reasoning, at a principle which he must believe, and
which is of itself so evident, that no arguments
could either illustrate or-enforce it, he then knows,
that his reason can carry him no further, and he sits

down contented and if he can satisfy himself, that

the whole investigation is fairly conducted, and does
indeed terminate in this self-evident principle, he is
persuaded, that his conclusion is true, and cannot
Whereas the modern sceptics,
possibly be false.
:

a strange conceit, that the dictates of their un

derstanding are fallacious, and that nature has her
roguish emissaries in every corner, commissioned
and sworn to play tricks with poor mortals, cannot
find in their heart to admit any thing as truth, upon
It is
the bare authority of their common sense.

from

* See
part 1. chap. 2. sect. 1.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

1.

doubtless a

great

103

advantage to geometry, that

its

its ideas so distinct, and

principles are so few,
Yet a captious and para
its language so definite.
doxical wrangler might, by dint of sophistry, in

first

volve the principles even of this science in confusion,

*.
But geo
provided he thought it worth his while
metrical paradoxes would not rouse the attention of
the public ; whereas moral paradoxes, when men
begin to look about for arguments in vindication of
impiety, debauchery, and injustice, become wonder
fully interesting, and can hardly fail of a powerful
The corrupt judge ; the
and numerous patronage.
the
statesman
courtier
who enriches
;
prostituted
himself by the plunder and blood of his country ;
the pettifogger, who fattens on the spoils of the fa
therless and widow; the oppressor, who, to pamper
his own beastly appetite, abandons the deserving
peasant to beggary and despair ; the hypocrite, the
debauchee, the gamester, the blasphemer,
prick up
their ears when they are told, that a celebrated
author has written a book full of such comfortable
doctrines as the following
That justice is not a
natural, but an artificial virtue, depending wholly
on the arbitrary institutions of menf, and, previous
to the establishment of civil society, not at all in
That moral, intellectual, and corporeal
cumbent
virtues, are all of the same kind J ; in other words,
That to want honesty, to want understanding, and to
want a leg, are equally the objects of moral disap
probation ; and therefore that it is no more a man s
duty to be grateful or pious, than to have the genius
of Homer, or the strength and
beauty of Achilles
1

The

author of the Treatise of Human Nature has ac~

tually attempted this in his first volume

doubt, that the public would not tsike

but finding, no
any concern in that
:

part of his system, he has not republished

SAYS.
f Treatise of
t

Human

Nature, vol.

Ibid. vol. 3. part 3. sect. 4,

it

in his

3. p. 37.

ES

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

If.

That every human action is necessary, and could

not have been different from what it is t
That
when we speak of power as an attribute of any be
ing, God himself not excepted, we use words with
That we can form no idea of power,
out meaning
nor of any being endued with any power, much less
of one endued with infinite power ; and that we can
never have reason to believe, that any object, or qua
lity of an object, exists, of which we cannot form an
That it is unreasonable to believe God to
idea *
be infinitely wise and good, while there is any evil or disorder in the universe ; and that we have no
good reason to think, that the universe proceeds
That the external material world
from a cause f
does not. exist ,J ; and that if the exteinal world be
once called in doubt as to its existence, we shall be
:

at a loss to find

arguments by which

we may prove

the Being of God, or any of his attributes

That those who believe any thing certainly are
**
That adultery must be practised, if men
fools
would obtain all the advantages of life ; that, if ge
nerally practised, it would soon cease to be scanda
:

||

lous

and that,

if

practised secretly and frequently,

would by degrees come to be thought no crime at

*
That the question concerning the substance
all
of the soul is unintelligible f That matter and mo
it

often be regarded as the cause of thought;):

may
J Hume

tion

s Essays, vol. 2. p. 91. edit. 1767.

Treatise of Human Nature, vol. 1. p. 284. 302.

432. &c.
f Hume
ture State.
|
||

Essay on a Particular Providence and

Berkeley s and Hume s Works passim.

s Essay on the Academical or Sceptical Phi

Hume

losophy, part 1.
** Treatise on

Fu

Hume

Human

Nature, vol.

468.
1767.

1. p.

Essays, vol. 2. p. 409. edit.

f Treatise of Human Nature, vol. 1. p. 434.

t Id.

ibid.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

105

That the soul of man becomes every different mo

so that the actions I per
ment a different being
formed last year, or yesterday, or this morning,
whether virtuous or vicious, are no more imputable
:

|l

to me, than the virtues of Aristides are imputable

of
to Nero, or the crimes of Nero to the

MAN

Ross.
I know no geometrical axiom, more perspicuous,
more evident, more generally acknowledged, than
this proposition, (which every man believes of him

My body exists ; yet this has been denied,

Who will
and volumes written to prove it false.
Q
pretend to set bounds to this spirit of scv pticism
Where are the principles that can
and sophistry ?
"

self,)

progress, when it has already attacked the

existence, both of the human bodv, and of the hu
man soul ? When it denies, and attempts to disprove

stop

its

this, I cannot see why it may not as well deny a

whole to be greater than a part^ the radii of the
same circle to be equal to one another ?;nd affirm,
that two right lines do contain a space, and that it is
;

same thing to be and not to be.

sceptics been consulted when trie first
geometrical institutions were compiled, they would
have given a strange turn to the face of affairs.
possible for the

Had our

They would have demanded

reasons for the belief of

and as none could have been given,,
every axiom
would have suspected a fallacy
and probably (for
the art of metaphysical book-making is not of diffi
cult attainment) have made books to
prove a pri
ori, that an axiom, from its very nature cannot be
true ; or at least that we cannot with
certainty pro
nounce whether it is so or not.
Take heed to
yourselves, gentlemen ; you are going to lay the
foundations of a science be careful to
lay them as
deep as possible. Let the love of doubt and disputation animate you to invincible perseverance.
;

"

"

<

"

"

You must go

deeper
II

truth (if there be

any such

Id. vol. 1. p. 48..

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

IC6
<f

(t
"

<(

TART

II.

Hitherto
thing) loves profundity and darkness.
you quite distinctly ; and, Jet me tell you,
that is a strong presumption against
your method
of operation.
I would not give
twopence for that
I see

which is obvious and intelligible.*

Tear up that prejudice, that I may see what sup-

philosophy
"

"

ports
"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

**
*

it.

see

am

you cannot move

it,

and therefore

violently disposed to question its stability ;

cannot pierce it, therefore who knows but it

you

may

be made of unsound materials ? There is no trusting to appearances. It is the glory of a philosopher

to doubt ; yea, he must doubt, both when he is

Somedoubtful, and when he is not doubtful f.

times, indeed, we philosophers are absolutely
and necessarily determined to live, and talk, and
act, like ether people, and to believe the existence both of ourselves and of others
but to this
absolute and necessary determination we ought
not to submit, but in every incident of life still to
:

"

"

"

4<

"

"

Yes, friend, I tell you,

preserve cur scepticism.
we ought still to do what is contrary to that to
which we are absolutely and necessarily determinI sec you preparing to speak, but I tell
ed J.
you once for all, that if you reason or believe any
*

f
*

See Treatise of

* 4

"

**

*
4<

t
and
or

play a game at hack-gammon, I converse

with my friends ; and when, after three
four hours amusement, I would return to these specI dine,

am merry

ny further. Here then I find myself absolutely and

to live, and talk, and set like
necessarily determined
Trea
other pecple in the common affairs of life."

Human

Nature, vo/. 1. /. 467.

the incidents of life we ought still to preserve
If we believe that fire warms, or water
cur scepticism.
tis only because it costs us too much pains to
refreshes
44

1. p. 3, 4.

ulations, they appear so cold, so strained, and so ridiculous that I cannot find in my heart to, enter into them

tise

44

Nature, vol.
be diffident of

his philosopbical doubts, as well as cf his philosophical conviction."

Treatise of Human Nature, vol. 1. p. 414.
"

"

Human

A true sceptic will

of

In

all

CHAP.
"

**

*
**
"

**
"

"

iV
"

**
"

* c

**
"

"

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
you are a fool*. Good

I.

107

Sir, hoxv
thing certainly
?
Is not this a sure foundation ?
we
must
dig
deep
I have no reason to think so, as I cannot see
what is under it. Then we must dig downward
And why not ? You think you are
in infinitum !
This very conceit of yours
arrived at certainty.
is a proof that you have not
gone deep enough ;

for
it

you must know,

when

that the understanding,

alone, and according to

acts

its

most general

subverts itself, and leaves not

principles, entirely
the lowest degree of evidence in any proposition,
This to
either in philosophy or common lifef;
the illiterate vulgar
diction or paradox,

man

jumping

may seem
as if

down

his

as great a contra-

we were to talk of a
own throat but we
:

brains are heated with metaphysic, are not

startled at paradoxes or contradictions, because we
are ready to reject aril belief and
reasoning, and
can look upon no opinion even as more probable or
more likely than another $, You are no true phiI 3^

whose

iosopher

"

"

think otherwise.

Nay,

only to be upon sceptical

*

we

are philosophers,

it

If I

must be a

any thing certainly

tural and

fool, as all those

are,

agreeable."

ought

principles."

Id. p.
"

"

"

if

my

who reason

follies shall at least

Id. p.

469.

or believe

be na-

468;

The inaccuracy of the expression makes- it difficult to

guess, whether
means, that all who believe
any thing are certainly fools, or that all are fools who be
lieve any thing to be certain.
But whether we suppose it
to have the former
ef
meaning, or the latter, is a

Mr HUME

thing

small concern.

f Verbatim from Treatise of

Human Nature, vol. 1 p

464, 465.
J ^ The intense view of these manifold contradictions
and imperfections inhuman reason, has so
wrought upon
and heated my brain, that I am
me^
ready to reject
all belief and
reasoning, and can look upon no opinion
even as more probable or likely than another.
"

"

"

"

Treatise of Human
Nature,

i>c/,

I,

/. 466,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

JOS
*

*
*
"

FRAT

If.

losopher if you either begin or end your inquiries

with the belief of any thing.
Well, Sir, you may
doubt and dispute as long as you please ; but I
believe that 1 am come to a sure foundation here
:

"

"

therefore will I begin to build, for I am certain

there can be no danger in trusting to the

stability

"

"

of that which
credulous fool

is

what the vulgar

workman
*

*
w<

*-

**

**
f<

*<

**
"

but

Hark

**

immoveable.

call an
I

ye,

Poor
you may be

Certain

sirrah

honest man,

and a good

am certain (I mean I am in
may not be certain J that you are

doubt whether I
no philosopher. Philosopher indeed

to

take a

thing of such consequence for granted, without

proof, without examination ! I hold you four to
one, that I shall demonstrate a priori, that this
same edifice of yours will be good for nothing.
I am inclined to think, that we live in too early a

period to discover ANY PRINCIPLES that will bear

the examination of the latest posterity pthe world,
Sir, is not yet arrived at the years of discretion
it will be time enough, two or three thousand
:

"*

"

**
**

*"

"

**
"

4i

years hence, for

c<

to begin to dogmatize, and af-

tures exist, or that there

These are points
tence.

is

such a thing as exis-

which our posterity, if

will very probably reject *.
These
be
wise,
they
*

li

men

firm, that two and two are four, that a triangle is

not a square, that the radii of the same circle are
a whole is greater than one of its parts ;
equal, that
that ingratitude and murder are crimes, that benevolence, justice, and fortitude, are virtues ; that
fire burns, that the sun shines, that human crea-

Perhaps we are still in too early an age of the

world, to discover any principles \vhich will bear the
examination of the latest posterity."
Treatise of Human Nature, voL 1. p. 473.
"

Some perhaps may blame me for laying any stress on

detached sentences, and for understanding these strong ex
pressions in a strict signification.

But

it is

not

my

inten-

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH,

I.

109

are points, which

they do not reject, they will
be arrant fools. This is my judgment, and I am
if

"

"

man-

te

certain

tl

kind are certain of nothing but 1 maintain, notwithstanding, that my own opinions are true. And

it

is

right.

maintain, indeed, that

:

"

"

if

any body

is

enough to

ill-natured

call this a c

n-

tradiction, I protest against his judgment, and nee

for all declare, that I mean not either to contradict

"

--

"

"

"

myself, or to acknowledge myself guilty of selfcontradiction."

I am well aware, that mathematical certainty is

not to be expected in any science but mathematics.
But I suppose that in every science, some kind of
certainty is attainable, or something at least sufficient
to command belief and whether this r^st on selfevident axioms, or on the evidence of sense, memory
:

or testimony, it is
I must believe it.
in

geometry,

still

certain to

And

presume

in
it

me,

if I feel

that

every science, as well as

would be inconsistent both

with
tion to take any unfair advantages. I should willingly im
pute these absurd sentences and expressions to the author s

but then I must impute the whole system to

inadvertency
the same cause i-for they imply nothing that is not again and
:

again inculcated, either directly or indirectly, in Mr HUME S

It is true some of them are self
contradictory,
and all of them strongly display the futility cf this pre
tended science. But who is to blame for this ? They who
allow themselves to contradict matter cf fact, either in

writings.

conversation or writing, will find it no easy matter to avoid contradicting themselves.

Again, if this science be
so useless, and if

even by

its

inutility

Mr HUME

himself,

be sometimes acknowledged
it
may be said, so much

why,

zeal in confuting it ? For this plain reason, Because it is

immoral and pernicious, as well as unprofitable and absurd ;
and because, with all its absurdity, it has been approved
and admired by sciolists, fops, and profligates , and been
the occasion of much evil to individuals, and of much de

triment as well as danger to society.

AW ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II.

with logic and good sense, to take that for an ulti

mate principle, which forces our belief by its own in
trinsic evidence, and which cannot by
any reasoning
be rendered more evident.

SECT.

II.

TN
^

natural philosophy, the evidence of sense and

mathematical evidence go hand in hand ; and the
one produces conviction as effectually as the other.
natural philosopher would make a poor figure,
should he take it in his head to disbelieve or distrust
The time was, indeed,
the evidence of his senses.
when matters were on a different footing ; when phy
sical truths \vere made out, not by experiment and
observation, but by dint of syllogism, or in the more

compendious way of ipse -dixit. But natural philo

sophy W-as then, what the philosophy of the mind in
the hands of our sceptics is now, a system of sophisms,
contrived for the vindication of false theories.
That natural philosophers never question the evi
dence of sense,, nor seek either to disprove or to cor
rect

it

is

by reasoning,

a position,

which to many

I foresee several
at first sight seem disputable.
objections, but shall content myself with examining

may

two of

the

most important.

And

these I shall set

in such a light, as will, I hope, show them to be in

conclusive, and at the same time preclude all other

objections.

Do we

not, (it will be said),

both in our phy

and in the common affairs of life,
reject the evidence of sight in regard to the magni
tude, extension, figure and distance of visible objects,
and trust to that of touch,, which we know to be less
fallacious ? 1 see two buildings on the top of yonder
mountain they seem to my eyes to be only three or
four feet asunder, of a round shape, and not larger
than my two thumbs but I have been at the place,
and haying ascertained their distance, size ; and figure,
i.

sical observations,

CHAP.

I.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

by touch or mensuration,

know,

Itl
that

they are

and fifty feet high.

square towers, forty yards asunder,
Do I not in this case reject the evidence of my sight
as fallacious, and trust to that of touch ? And what
is it but reason that induces me to do so ? How then
can it be said, that from the evidence of sense there
It will, however, be easy to
is no appeal to reason ?
we distrust neither sight;
instance
that
this
in
show,
nor touch, but believe implicitly in both not because
we can coniirm their evidence by reasoning, but be
cause the law of our nature will not permit us to
disbelieve their evidence.
Do you perceive these two objects when you shut
your eyes ? No. It is, then, by your sight only that
;

Does your sight per

perceive them ? It is.
ceive any thing in these two objects, but a certain
Do
visible magnitude, extension and figure ? No.

you

believe that these towers really appear to your

eyes round, three feet asunder, and of the size of
your thumbs? Yes, I believe they have that ap

you

And do you not also believe

pearance to my eyes
the eyes, of all men who see as you do,
and look at these objects from the place in which
you now stand, they have the very same appearance ?
I have no reason to think otherwise.
You believe,
then, that the visible magnitude, distance and shape,
of these towers, is what it appears to be ? or do you
think that your eyes see wrong ? Be sure, the visible
magnitude, figure and distance, are not different from
that, to

I perceive them to be.

But how do you know
what you perceive by sight either exists, or is
what it appears to be? Not by reasoning, but by

what
that

instinct.

Of the visible magnitude, extension, and figure,,

our eyes give us a true perception.
It is a law of
nature, That while visible objects retire from the
eye, the visible magnitude becomes less as the distance
becomes greater and the proportion between the in
creasing distance and the decreasing visible magnitude
:

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

n.2
is

so well

known,

?ART u.

that the visible magnitude of

any

given object placed at a given distance, may be as

certained with geometrical exactness. The true visi
ble magnitude of objects

terminate thing

that

is,

object, at the same

believe, that if is what our eyes perceive it to
if we did not, the art of perspective would be im

same

we
be

is therefore a fixed and de

the visible magnitude of the
distance, is always the same :

possible ; at least we could not acknowledge, that

there is any truth in that art.
But the object (you reply) seems no bigger than

your thumb

how

and you believe

it

to be fifty feet high

that sensation reconcileable with this belief ?

may easily reconcile them, by recollecting,

is

You

obvious enough,) that the object of your

the tangible magnitude ; that of your sensa
The visible magnitude is a per
tion, the visible.
ception of sense ; and we have seen already, that it
is conceived to be a true, and not a fallacious percep
is

("what

belief

is

the tangible magnitude you do not at present

tion
perceive by sense ; you only remember it j or perhaps
you infer it from the visible, in consequence of your
knowledge of the laws of perspective. When we
see a lump of salt at a little distance, we may per
:

haps take

it

for sugar.

Is this a false sensation

it

a proof, either that our taste, or that our sight,

is fallacious ? No: this is only an erroneous opinion
formed upon a true sensation.
false sensation wer
is

cannot suppose it to be, without supposing that tastesare perceived by the eyes.
And you cannot believe
your opinion of the magnitude of these towers to be
a false sensation* except you believe that tangible

When we speak
qualities are perceived by sight.
of the magnitude of objects, we generally mean the
tangible magnitude, which is no more an object of
For it is demonstrated in op
sight than of hearing.
tics, that a person endued with sight, but so fettered
from his birth as to have no opportunity ot gaining
experience by touch, could never form any distinct-

CHAP.

I.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH,

notion of the distance, extension, magnitude, or figure

,These are perceptions, not of sight,
of any thing.
but of touch.
judge of them indeed from the
.visible .appearance ; but it is only in consequence of

We

our having found, that certain changes in the visible

appearance do always accompany, and intimate, cer
tain changes in the tangible distance, magnitude, and
Visible magnitude, and tangible magnitude
figure.
are quite .different things ; the former changes with
the .latter .is always the
.every change of distance,
same ; the one is perceived by one sense, the other

So that when you say, I see. a tower

another.
two miles off, which appears no bigger .than my
thumb, and yet I believe it to be a thousand times
your sensation is per.
bigger than my whole body

by

fectly consistent with your belief the contrariety is

merely verbal ; for the word bigger, in the first clause
refers to visible, in -the second, to tangible magni
There is here no more real inconsistency than
tude.
if you were to say, I see a conical body of a white
:

If
colour, acd I believe it to have a sweet taste.
there be any difficulty in conceiving this, it must arise from our being more apt to confound the objects

of sight and touch, than those of any other two

As the knowledge of tangible qualities is

of more consequence to our happiness and preserva
tion, than the knowledge of visible appearances which
in themselves can do neither good nor harm ; \\e fix
our principal attention on the tangible magnitude,
the visible appearance serving only as a sign by
which we judge of it the mind makes an instantane
ous transition from the visible appearance, which it
overlooks, to the tangible quality, on which it fixeth
its attention j and the sign is as little attended to, in
comparison of the thing signified, as the shape of
written characters, or the sound of articulate voices,
in comparison of the ideas which the writer qr speaker
senses.

means

to

communicate.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

-114

PART

IT.

But all men Cit may be said) do not thus distin

guish between visible and tangible magnitude. Many
philosophers have affirmed, and the vulgar still be
lieve, that magnitude is a sensation both of sight
and touch those people, therefore, when sensible of
the diminished visible appearance of the distant ob
:

ject,

must suppose,

that the perception they receive

of that object, is really a

sight of the magnitude

false perception ; because
should receive by touch,
object were within three

by

from what they

or even by sight if the
At
yards of their eyes.
any rate, they must suppose, that what their sight
perceives concerning magnitudes is not always to be
-depended on.; and therefore that their sight is a fal
different

lacious faculty.

Let

this objection

have as much weight

as

you

not prove, that the evidence of

please ; yet
sense may be either confirmed or confuted by rea
son.
Suppose then I perceive real magnitude, both
by sight and touch. I observe, that what my sight
perceives of magnitude is not always consistent,
either vith Jtself, or with the sensations received by
The same man, with
touch from the same object.
in the same hour, appears six feet high, and not one
will

it

foot high, according as I view him at the distance

What is to be done
of two yards or of two miles.
;in this case ? both sensations I cannot believe ? for
-that the man really changes his stature, is altogether
incredible.

and I
the
same
pears

same

believe his stature to be always the

find, that to
;

and that,

at the distance of a

few

my

touch it always ap
I look at the man

when

feet,

my

visible perception

of his magnitude coincides with

my tangible per
I must therefore believe, that what
ception.
of distant
sight intimates concerning the magnitude
But
whence
ais not to be depended on.
objects

my

belief? Can I prove, by argument, that

does not change his stature ? that the sense,
whose perceptions are all consistent, is a true, and

rises

the

this

man

CHAP.

AN ESSAY

i.

o>7

TRUTH.

115

not falla
cious, when its perceptions coincide with the percep
tions of another sense ?
No, I can prove none of
It is instinct, and not reason, that de
these points.
termines me to believe my touch ; it is instinct, and
not reason, that determines me to believe, that visi
ble sensations, when consistent with tangible, are not
and it is either instinct, or reasoning
fallacious
founded on experience, (that is, on the evidence of
sense), that determines rne to believe the man s sta
ture a permanent, and not a changeable thing. The
evidence of sense is therefore decisive ; from it there
and if I were to become
is no appeal to reason
sceptical in regard to it, I should believe neither the
one sense nor the other and of all experience, and
experimental reasoning, I should become equally dis

not a fallacious faculty

or that a sense

is

trustful.

As

the experience of an undiscerning or careless

may be confirmed, or corrected, by that of
one who is more attentive, or more sagacious, so the
evidence of au imperfect sense may be corrected
spectator

that of another sense

perfect.

corrected

which we conceive

to be

by
more

But the evidence of sense can never be

by any reasoning, except by that which

proceeds on a supposition, that our senses are not

And all our notions concerning the per
fection or imperfection of sense are either instinc
tive, and therefore principles of common sense ; or
founded in experience, and therefore
ultimately re.

fallacious.

solvable into this

maxim, That

things are

what our

senses represent them.

Lucretius

is

much puzzled

rus had been before

(as his master Epicu

him) about the degree of credit

due to our visible perceptions of

He
magnitude.
justly enough observes, that no pi inciple can be con
futed, except by another more evident principle ;
and, therefore, that the testimony of sense, thaa

which nothing

is

more evident, cannot be confuted

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

Il6
*

PART

II.

that the testimony of the nostrils concern

at all
ing odour cannot be corrected or refuted by that of
the eye, nor the eye by the ear, nor the ear by the
touch, nor the touch by the taste ; because each of
these senses hath a set of objects peculiar to itself,
of which the other senses cannot judge, because in
deed they cannot perceive them.
All this is ve-ry
well; but there is one thing wanting, which I should
think obvious enough, even to one of Epicurean
:

Of tastes we judge by the palate only ;

principles.
of smell, by the nostrils only ; of sound, by the
earsonly; of colours, by the sight only; of hard
ness, softness, heat, cold, &c. by the touch only ;
but of magnitude we judge both by sight and
* See
Diogenes Laertius, book 10. Lucretius de reThis author had sagacity
natura, lib. 4. ver. 480.
enough to perceive the absurdity of Pyrrhonism, and to

rum

make

several judicious remarks

on the nature of evidence.

in applying these to his own theory, every one knows

The poem of Lucre
that he is by no means consistent.

But

tius is a

melancholy spectacle

it is

the picture of a gieat

when the whim of

Except
genius in the state of lunacy.
his sect comes across his imagination,

argues with pro

of sentiment,
and
Pathos
elegance.
priety, perspicuity,
sw eetness of style, harmony of numbers, and a beauty,
and sometimes a majesty of description, not unworthy of
"he

poem highly amusir-g, in spite of its ab

talent for extensive observation he
surd philosophy.
seems to have possessed in an -extraordinary degree 5 but

Virgil, render his

\vherever the

cerned, he

peculiar tenets .of Epicureanism are

sees every thing

fatal is the admission of

through a

wrong

false

principles.

medium.

con
So

Persons of the

most exalted undsrstanding have as much need to guard

If they
as those of the meanest capacity.
against them,
are so imprudent, or so unfortunate as to adopt them,
their superior genius, like the strength of a madman, will
serve no other purpose than to involve them in greater diff>rH

chief.

es,

and give them the power of doing more mis

CHAP.
touch.

Atf ESSAY

I.

ON TRUTH.

In regard to magnitude,

we must

therefore

believe either our sight, or our touch, or both, or

neither. To believe neither is impossible if we be
lieve both, we shall contradict ourselves if we trust
:

and not our touch, our belief at one time

be inconsistent with our belief at another ; we
shall think the same man six feet high, and not one
we must therefore believe our touch, if
foot high

our

sight,

will

we would

exert any consistent belief in regard to

magnitude.
we not, in physical experiments ac
a-. But do
knowledge the deceitfulness of sense, when we have
recourse to the telescope and microscope ; and when,
in order to analyse light, which, to our unassisted
sight, appears one uniform uncompounded thing,
we transmit the rays of it through a prism ? I an
swer, this implies the imperfection, not the deceitful*
nvss, of sense. For if I suppose my sight fallacious,
I can no more trust it, when assisted by a- telescope
I cannot
or microscope, than when unassisted*
are
as
tothat
they appear
things
prove,
my unas
sisted sight; and lean as little prove, that the things
are as they appear to

But

is it

my

sight assisted

not agreeable to

common

by

glasses.
to be

sense

one uniform uncompounded thing?

and if so, is not common sense in an error ? and what
can rectify this error but reasoning ?
1 answer, it
is undeniable, that light to the unassisted
eye appears
uncompoundeJ and uniform. If from this I infer,

lieve, that light is

precisely what it appears to be, I form

wrong judgment, which I may afterwards rectify,

that light
a.

is

upon; the evidence of sense,, when I see a ray of light

transmitted through a prism.
Here an error of
a false inference of reason, is rectified
or
judgment,
by my trusting to the evidence of sense ; to which
evidence, instinct, or common sense determines me to
trust.

Bat
this

is it

not

common

wrong judgment

sense that leads

me

Do not all mankind

to

form

naturally,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

Il8

PART

II.

all influence from education,

judge
same manner? Did not all philosophers be
fore Newton, and do not all the unlearned to this

and previously to

in the

I answer,
day, believe that light is a simple fluid :
Common Sense teacheth me, and all mankind, to
trust to experience
Experience tells us, that our
unassisted sight, though sufficiently acute for the or
dinary purposes of life, is not acute enough to dis
cern the minute texture of visible objects.
If, not
:

withstanding this experience, we believe, that the

minute texture of light, or of any other visible substance, is nothing different from that appearance
which we perceive by the naked eye then our be
;

our experience, and consequently is

inconsistent with common sense.
But what if you have had no experience sufficient
to convince you, that your senses are not acute enough to discern the texture of the minute parts of
Then it is certain, that I can never attain
bodies ?
If a man were to
this conviction by mere reasoning.
reason a priori about the nature of light, he might
chop logic till doomsday, before he convinced me,
that light is compounded of rays of seven different
But if he tell me of experiments which he
colours.
has made, or which he knows to have been made,
lief contradicts

this is quite another matter.

and

it

When

makes up

for

my

believe his testimony,

of experience.

own want

in his veracity, I conceive, and be

lieve, that his senses communicated a true percep
tion ; and that, if I had been in his place, I should
I confide

by the evidence of my sense,

that light is truly compounded of rays of seven dif
But I must repeat, that a supposi
ferent colours.
senses being fallacious, would render me
tion of
inaccessible to conviction, both on the one
also have been convinced,

my

wholly
^ide and on the other.
Suppose a man, on seeing the coloured rays thrown
off from the prism, should think the whole a delusion,
and owing to the nature of the medium through

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

lip

which the light is transmitted, not to the nature of

the light itself ; and should tell me, that he could as
face to be of a green colour, be
easily believe
cause it has that appearance when viewed through a

my

pair of green spectacles, as that every ray of light

consists of seven distinct colours, because it has that

appearance when transmitted through a prism :would it be possible to get the better of this prejudice,
without reasoning ? I answer, it would not but the
reasoning used must all depend upon experiments
every one of which must be rejected, if the testimony
I could thinlc
of sense be not admitted as decisive.
of several expedients, in the way of appeals to sense,
by which it might be possible to reconcile him to the.
Newtonian theory of light; but, in the way of ar
gument, I cannot devise a single one.
On an imperfect view of nature, false opinions may
be formed but these may be rectified by a more per
:

;.

view or, which in many cases will amount to

the same thing, by the testimony of those who have
fect

obtained a

more

perfect view.

The powers of man

operate only within a certain sphere ; and till an ob

ject be brought within that sphere, it is impossible
for them to perceive it.
T see a smallx
object, which
I know to be a man at the distance of half a mile ;
but cannot discern his complection, whether it beblack or fair ; nor the colour of his clothes, whether
it be brown, or black, or blue
nor his nose, whether,
,
it be
long or short : I cannot even discern, whether hehave any nose at all and his whole body seems to be
of one uniform black colour,
Perhaps I am so foolish
:

as to infer, that therefore the man has no nose ; that

his clothes are black,, and his face of the colour of his
clothes. On going up to him, I discover that he is a

handsome man, of

a fair complexion, dressed in blue*

not reasoning that sets me
right in this,
instance ; but it is a perfect view of an
object that,
rectifies a
wrong opinion formed upon an imperfect
view.

Surely

it is

K-3

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

120

PART

If,

I hear the sound of a musical instrument at a dis

tance ; but hear it so faintly, that 1 cannot determine

whether it be that of a trumpet, a hautboy, a Ger

man flute, a French horn, or a common flute. I want
to know from what instrument the sound proceeds; and
I have no opportunity of knowing from the infor
mation of others.
Shall I stand still where I am,
and reason about it ? no that would make me no
wiser.
I go forward to the place from whence the
sound seems to come ; and by and by I can perceive,
that the sound is different from that of a French horn
and of a trumpet but as yet I cannot determine whe
ther it be the sound .of a hautboy or of aiilute.
I
go on a little further, and now I plainly distinguish
but perhaps I shall not be able
the sound of a flute
to know whether it be a German or common flute,
except by means of my other senses, that is, by hand
;

ling or looking at it.

It is needless to multiply instances for illustrating
the difference between a perfect and an imperfect view

of an object, and for shewing, that the mind trusts

For obtain
to the former, but distrusts the latter.

ing a perfect view, (or perfect perception), we some

times employ the same sense in a nearer situation ;
sometimes we make use of instruments, as ear-trum
sometimes
pets, spectacles, microscopes, telescopes
we have recourse to the testimony of our other senses,
or of the senses of other men in a word, we rectify or
ascertain the evidence of sense by the evidence of
sense but we never subject the evidence of sense to
for in sensations that are
the cognisance of reason
or
indistinct, reasoning could neither supply
imperfect
what is deficient, nor ascertain what is indefinite.
Oar internal, as well as external senses, may be,
;

and often are, imposed upon, by inaccurate views

cf their objects.
may in sincerity of heart ap
the same perso-i for
condemn
afterwards
and
plaud,
the same action, according to the different lights in

We

which that action

is

presented to our moral faculty.

CHAP.

AN

I.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

now I hear a report, that a human body is found

dead in the neighbouring fields, with marks of vio
Here a confused suspicion arises in
lence upon it.
committed ; but my conscience
murder
of
mind
my
suspends its judgment till the true state of the case
I am not as yet in a condition to
be better known
perceive those qualities of this event which ascertain
the morality of the action ; no more than I can per
ceive the beauty or deformity of a face while it is
veiled, or at too great distance.
passenger informs
has
been
a
that
me,
apprehended who con
person
fesses himself the murderer
my moral faculty in
stantly suggests, that this person has committed a
crime worthy of a most severe and exemplary punish
ment. By and by I learn, from what I think good
authority, that my former information is false, for
that the man now dead had made an unprovoked as
sault on the other, who was thus driven to the ne
cessity of killing him in self-defence ; my con
science immediatci^ acquits the man-slayer.
I send
Just

a messenger to make particular enquiry into this

who brings word that the man was acciden
;
tally killed by a fowler shooting at a bird,, who, be

affair

had been at all possible pains to dis

cover whether any human creature was in the way ;
but that the deceased was in such a situation that he
I regret the accident ; but
could not be discovered.

fore he fired,

blame neither party. Afterwards I learn, that

was a careless fellow, and though he had
no b?;d intention, was not at due pains to observe
whether any human creature would be hurt by his
I blame his negligence with
firing.
great severity,,
but I cannot charge him with guilt so enormous as
that of murder.
Here my moral faculty passes se
veral different judgments on tie same action and each
of them is right, and will be in its turn believed to
I

this fowler

be right, and trusted to accordingly, as long as the

information which gave rise to it is believed to be
true.
I say tbe saf?2e action, not the same intention ,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

ir.

a different intentjon appears in the man-slayer from

each information ; and it is only the intention and af
fections that the moral faculty condemns or approves-.

To discover the intention wherewith actions are per

formed, reasoning is often necessary ; but the design
of such reasoning, is not to sway or inform the con
science, but only to ascertain those circumstances or
qualities of the action from which the intention of
the agent may appear.
When this becomes manifest
the conscience of mankind immediately and intui
tively declares it to be virtuous, or vitious, or inno^cent.
These different judgments of the moral facul
ty are so far from proving it fallacious, that they
prove the contrary ; at least this faculty would bs
extremely fallacious, and absolutely useless, if, in
the case now supposed, it did not form different judg
While the intention of the agent is wholly
ments.
unknown, an action is upon the same footing in re

to its morality, as a human face, in regard to

beauty, while it is veiled, or at too great distance,
By removing the veil, or walking up to the object,
we perceive its beauty and features ; and by reason
ing, or by information concerning the circumstances
of the action, we are enabled to discover or infer the
The act of removing the
intention of the agent.
veil, or of walking up to the object, has no effect en
the eye ; nor has the reasoning any effect on the con*
While we view an object through an im
science.
or
pure
unequal medium, through a pair of green
spectacles, or an uneven pane of glass, we see it dis
coloured or distorted ; just so, when misrepresented,
a good action may seem evil, and an evil action good.
If we be suspicious of the representation, if we be
aware of the improper medium, we distrust the ap
pearance accordingly if not, we do, and must believe

gard

its

;.

it

of

genuine.

human

It is

actions

by reasoning from our experience

and their causes, or by the testi

mony of credible witnesses, that we detect misrepre

sentations concerning moral conduct 5 and it is also

CHAP.

I.

AN

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

12$

by the experience of our own senses, or by our be

lief in those who have had such experience, that we
become sensible of inequalities or obscurities in the
medium through which we contemplate visible ob
jects.

In either case the evidence of sense

is

admit

ted as finally decisive.

distempered sense,,as well
or unequal medium, may doubtless
as
an^ impure
communicate false sensations ; but we are never im

posed upon by them in matters of consequence.

person in a fever may think honey bitter, and the
smell of a rose offensive ; but the delusion is of so
short continuance, and of so singular a kind, that it
can do no harm, either to him, or to the cause of
To a jaundiced eye, the whole creation may
truth.
seem tinctured with yellow ; but the patient s former
experience, and his belief in the testimony of others,

who

assure him, that they perceive no alteration in

the colour of bodies, and that the alteration he per
ceives is a common attendant on his disease, \vill suf

guard him against mistakes. If he were to

the evidence of sense, he could believe
neither his own experience nor their testimony.
He corrects, or at least becomes sensible of the false
ficiently

distrust

sensation, by means of sensations formerly received

ivhen he was in health ; that is, he corrects the evi

dence of an ill-informed sense by that of a well-in

formed sense, or by the declaration of those whose
senses he believes to be better informed than his
Still it is plain, that from the evidence of
sense there can be no appeal to reason.
conclude, therefore, that in natural philosophy

own.

We

our sensations are not supposed fallacious, and that

reasoning is not carried beyond the principles of com

mon sense. And yet in this science full scope is

If, after the first
given to impartial investigation.
experimental process, you suspect that the object
may be set in a still fairer light, I know no law in
logic, or in good sense, that can or ought to hinder
you from making a new trial but if this new trial
:

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

124

FART

II.

turn to account ; if the object still appear the same,

or if it appear less distinct than before, it wer - folly
not to remain satisfied with the first trial.
Newton
transmitted one of the refracted primitive colours
through a second prism, thinking it not impost,, u e
that tljus colour might resolve itself into other still
more simple, but finding it remain unaltered, he was
satisfied that the primitive colours are not com pound
ed, but simple, and that the experimental process had
I take in my hand
already been carried far enough.
a perspective glass, whose tube may be lengthened
and shortened at pleasure ; and I am to find out by
my own industry, that precise length at which the
maker designed it should be used in looking at dis
:

I make several trials to no purpose ;

tant objects.
the distant object appears not at all, or but very con
I hold one end of the perspective at my
fusedly.

eye with one hand, and with the other I gradually

shorten the tube, having first drawn it out to its
At first all is confusion ; now I can
greatest length.
discern the inequalities of the mountains in the hori

zon
pear

now

;
;

it

the object

becomes

less

am

and

in quest of

less confused

begins to ap
;

I see it dis

I continue to shorten the tube

the object
;
loses its distinct appearance, and begins to relapse
After many trials, I find
into its former obscurity.
tinctly.

perspective exhibits no distinct appearance

it is of one particular
Here
length.
then I fix ; I have adjusted, the glasses according to
the intentio i of the maker ; and I believe that the
distinct appearance is an accurate representation of
that

my

except when

the distant obj-ect, or at least more accurate than any

of the confused appearances ; of which I believe, that
they come the nearer to truth the more they ap
proach to distinctness, and that the most confused
representations are the most false.
It

was not by reasoning about the fallacy of the

argument beyond

senses, and prosecuting a train of

the principles of

common

sense, that. men discovered

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

F.

1.2$

In the earlier ages,

svstetn of the world.
they imagined the sun to be little bigger than

the tru

when

the mountain beyond which he disappeared, it was

absurd to think of the earth revolving round him.

Bat in process of time, ingenious men, who applied

themselves to the observation of the heavenly bo
dies, not with a view to confute popular errors, for
they could not as yet even suspect the vulgar opi
nion to be erroneous, bu-t merejy to. gratify their own
laudihle curiosity, began to conceive more exalted
notions of the mundane system.
They soon distin
guished the planets from the fixed stars, by observ
ing the former to be more variable in their appear
After a long succession of years, employed,
ances.
not in reasoning, but attentive observation, they
came at last to understand the motions of the sun
and moon so well, that, to the utter astonishment of
the vulgar, they began to calculate eclipses: a de
gree of knowledge they could not attain, without be
ing convinced, that the sun and moon are very large
bodies, placed at very gjreat distances from the earth,

much larger, and more remote,

Thus far it is impossible to shew,

the former

than the

latter.

that

any

reasoning had been employed by those ancient as

tronomers, either to prove, or to disprove, the evi
On the contrary, they must all
dence of the senses.
along have taken it for granted, that the senses are
not fallacious ; supposing only, (what it is certainlyagreeable to common sense to suppose), that the ex
perience of a diligent observer is more to be depen
ded on than that of the inattentive .multitude. As
men grew more and more acquainted with the motions
and appearances of the heavenly bodies, they became
more and more sensible, that the sun, earth, and
planets, bear some very peculiar relation to one another and having learned from the phenomena of
eclipses, and some other natural appearances, that
.

the sun
*

is

bigger

than

the

earth *, they

Heraclitus maintained, that the

broad

Anaxagoras, that he

is

sun

might,

but a foot
much. larger than the
is

J26

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II.

without absurdity, begin to suspect, that possibly

the sun might be the centre round which the earth
and other planets revolve ^especially considering the
magnificence ot that glorious luminary, and the won
derful and delightful effects produced by the influ
ence of his beams, while at the same time he seems
not to derive any advantage from the earth, or other
But if the matter had been carried no fur
planets.
ther, no reasoning from these circumstances could
ever have amounted to a proof of the point in ques
tion, tnough it might breed a faint presumption in
For still the evidence of sense seemed
its favour.
to contradict it ; an evidence which nothing can dis
prove, but the evidence of sense placed in circum
stances more favourable to accurate observation.
The invention of optical glasses did at last furnish
the means of making experiments with regard to
this matter, and of putting man in circumstances
more favourable to accurate observation ; and thus
the point was brought to the test of common sense.
And r.ow, we not only know:, that the Copernican
theory is true, for every person who understands it
is convinced of its truth ; but we also know to what
causes the universal belief of the contrary doctrine
know that men, considering
is to be ascribed.
the remote situation of our earth, and the imperfec
tion of our senses, could not have judged otherwise
than they did, till that imperfection was remedied,
either by accuracy of observation, or by the inven
tion of optical instruments.
speak not of reve
lation 5 which has indeed been vouchsafed to man

We

We

country of Peloponnesus ^ and Epicurus, that he is no

But the astronomers p
bigger than he appears to the eye.
antiquity maintained, that he is bigger than the earth j
eight times, according to the Egyptians , eighteen times,
according to Eratosthenes j three hundred times, accord
thousand and fifty times, accord
ing to Cleomedfes j one
ing to Hi^parchus ? and fifty -nine thousand three hundred
add nineteen times, according to Possidonius.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

127

but which
fol* the regulation of his moral conduct
it would be presumption to expect or desire, mere
of curiosity.
ly for the gratification
It is evident, from what has been said, that in
natural philosophy, as well as in mathematics, no
;

argumentation

is

beyond

prosecuted

self-evident

that as in the latter all reasoning termi

principles
nates in intuition, so in the former all reasoning ter
;

minates in the evidence of sense. And as, in ma~

thematics, that is accounted an intuitive axiom, which
is of itself so clear and evident, that it cannot be il
lustrated or inforced by any medium of proof, and
which must be believed, and is in fact believed by
all on its own authority ; so, in natural philosophy,
that is accounted an ultimate principle, undeniable
and unquestionable, which is supported by the evi
dence of a well-informed sense, placed so as to per
In mathematics, that is accounted
ceive its object.
false doctrine which is inconsistent with any selfevident principle

in natural

philosophy, that

is re

which contradicts matter of fact, or, in other

words, which is repugnant to the appearances of

jected

things as perceived

by external

sense.

Regulated by this criterion of truth, mathematics

and natural philosophy have become of all sciences
the most respectable in point of certainty.
Hence
I

am

if the same criterion

the philosophy of the
nature, instead of being,

encouraged to hope, that

were universally adopted

in

mind, the science of human

as at present, a chaos of uncertainty and contradiction,

would acquire a considerable degree of certainty, per
If truth be at all attainable in
spicuity, and order.
this science, ("and if it is not attainable,
should

why

we

trouble our heads about it?) surely it must be at

tained by the same means as in those other sciences.
For of the eternal relations and fitnesses of

we know

all that

we know

things,

of truth and
falsehood is, that our constitution determines us in
spine cases to believe, in others to disbelieve j and

nothing

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART u.

truth which we feel that we must be

lieve ; and that to us is falsehood which we feel that
we must disbelieve*. There are innumerable truths
with which we are wholly unacquainted ; there are
perhaps some truths which we reject as falsehood
but, surely, we must both know and believe a truth
we can acknowledge it as such and belief is
before
nothing but a perception, or, if you please, an action
that to us

is

of the mind, the peculiar nature of which we all know

internal feeling or consciousness, and cannot pos

by

sibly
**
*
"

"

"

know

in

any other way.

would propose,

That in the philonature, as well as in physics and

mathematics., principles be examined according to
I

therefore

sophy

of,

"

human

the standard of common sense, and be admitted or

rejected as they are found to agree or disagree with
more explicitly,
That those doctrines be
it
"

:"

"

**
66
-

**
*

**
* f

rejected which contradict matter of fact, that is,

which are repugnant to the appearances of things,

by external and internal sense ; and that

those principles be accounted ultimate, undeniable,
and unquestionable, which are warranted by the
evidence of a well-informed sense, placed in circumstauces favourable to a distinct perception of
as perceived

its

object."

But what do you mean by a well informed sense ?

How shall I know, that any particular faculty of
mine is not defective, depraved, or fallacious ?
Perhaps it is not easy, at least it would furnish mat
ter for too long a digression, to give a full answer
Nor is it at present necessary;
to this question.
because it will appear in the sequel, that, however
difficult it may be in some .cases to distinguish a
first principle, yet there are certain marks, by which
those reasonings that tend to the subversion of a
in all cases
first principle, may be detected, at least

of importance.

However, we
* See the next

shall

section,.

o^er a remark

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

129

or two in answer to the question ; which, though

they should not appear perfectly unexceptionable,
may yet throw light on the subject, and serve to pre
that are
pare the mind of the reader for some things
to follow.

First, then, if I

wanted

to certify

myself concern- o

that
ing any particular sense or percipient faculty,
k is neither depraved nor defective, I should attend
to the feelings or sensations communicated by it j
and observe, whether they be clear and definite, and
such as I am, of my own accord, disposed to confide
in without hesitation, as true, genuine, and natural.
If they are such, I should certainly act
I had some positive reason to think

till

upon them
them falla

Secondly, I consider, whether the sensations

received by this faculty be uniformly similar in similar
if they are not, I should suspect,
Circumstances
either that it is now depraved, or was formerly so ;
and if I had no other criterion to direct me, should
be much at a loss to know whether I ought to trust
the former or the latter experience ; perhaps I should
distrust both.
If they are uniform, if my present
and my past experience do exactly coincide, t shall
then b? disposed to think them both right
Thirdly,
I consider, whether, in
acting upon the supposition
that the facalty in question is well-informed, I have
ever been miskd to rny hurt or inconvenience ; if
not, then have I good reason to think, that I was
not mistaken when I formed that supposition, and
cious.

that this faculty is really what I

supposed^ to be.
Fourthly, If the sensations communicated by this

faculty be incompatible with one another, or irreconcileable to the perceptions of

other faculties, I
should suspect a depravation of the former : for the

my

laws of nature, as far as my experience

goes, are con
sistent ; and I have a natural
tendency to believe that
they are universally so.
tion, that

my

It is

therefore a

faculties are well informed,

presump
when the

perceptions of one. are quite consistent witli those of

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

130

PART

II*

the rest, and with one another.

In a state of soli
tude 1 must satisfy myself with these criteria ; but
in society I have access to another criterion, which,
in many cases, will be reckoned more decisive than

and which,

concurrence with these,

every ra
1 compare
tional mind.
my sensations and notions
with those of other men ; and if I find a perfect coin
cidence, I shajl then be satisfied that my sensations
are according to the law of human nature, and there
To illustrate all this by an example
fore right.

any

o^f

these,

in

will be sufficient to banish doubt from

r>I

want

to

know whether my

sense of seeing be a
First, I have reason to think

well-in forTned faculty.

that it is ; because my eyes communicatfe to me such
sensations as I, of my own accord, am disposed to

There is something in my perceptions

of sight ,so distinct, and so definite, that I do not
find myself in the least disposed to doubt whether
Even the
things be what my eyes represent tbem.
confide in.

obscurer informations of this faculty carry along with

them their own evidence, and my belief. I am con
fident, that the sun and moon are round, as they ap
pear to be, that the rainbow is arched, that grass is
snow white and the heavens azure ; and this I
green,,
should have believed, though I had passed ail my
of other
days in solitude, and never known any thing
that my
I
find
senses.
their
or
Secondly,
animals,
notions of the visible qualities of bodies are the same
If this were riot the
they have always been.
I
saw
if
;
greenness yesterday I were to
$here
see yellow to-day, I should, be apt to suppose, that
my sight had suffered some depravation, except I
had reason to think, that the object had really chang
Rut indeed we have so strong a tendency
ed colour.
to believe our senses, that I doubt riot but fn such a
case I should be more disposed to suspect a change
in the object than in my eye-sight much would de
rub our
pend on the circumstances of the case.
to look at any thing with acc.uwant
we
when
eyes

now
case

We

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

racy ; for we know by experience, that motes, and

cloudy specks, which may be removed by rubbing,
do sometimes float in the eye, and hurt the sight.
But if the alteration of the visible qualities in the
external object be such as we have never experienced
from a depravation of the organ, we should be in
clined to trust our eye-sight, rather than to suppose
that the external object has remained unaltered
Thirdly, no evil consequence has ever happened to

me when acting upon the supposition, that my fa

whereas, if
culty of seeing is a well informed sense
to act on the contrary supposition,
if I were
I should soon have cause to regret my scepticism. I
see a post in my way ; by turning a little aside, I
:

sight falla
pass it unhurt but if I had supposed
cious, and gone straight forward, a bloody nose, or
something worse, might have been the consequence.

my

when I bend my course obliquely, in order to

avoid the post that seems to stand directly before
me, I were to run my head full against it, I should
instantly suspect a depravation in my eye-sight but
as I never experience any misfortune of this kind, I
believe that my sense of seeing is a well-informed
Fourthly, the perceptions received by thisfaculty.
sense are perfectly consistent with one another, anJ
with the perceptions received by my other faculties.
When I see the appearance of a solid body in rny
way, my touch always confirms the testimony of my
sight if it did not, 1 should suspect a fallacy in one
or other of those senses, perhaps in both.
When I
look on a line of soldiers, they all seem standing per
pendicular, as I my s; If stand j but if the men at the
extremities of the line, without leaning against any
thing, were to appear as if they formed an angle of
forty-five degrees with the earth s surface, I should,
suspec^some unaccountable obliquity in my vision.
Lastly, after the experience of several years, after
all the
knowledge I hax^e been able to gather, concerning the sensations of other men, from reading, dis-*
If,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH,

PART

IIw

course, and observation, I have no reason to think

their sensations of sight different from mine.
Every
body who uses the English language calls snow white y

and grass green and it would be in the highest de

gree absurd to suppose, that what they call the sen.
;

sation.

of whiteness,

is

not the same sensation which

by that name. Some few, perhaps, see differ

A man in the jaundice sees that rose
ently from me.
yellow which I see red y a short sighted man sees

I call

that picture confusedly at the distance of three yards,,

But far the greater part of
which I see distinctly.
mankind see as I do, and differently from those few
individuals ; whose sense of seeing I therefore con
sider as less perfect than mine.

Nay, tho the gene

mankind were short-sighted, still it would
be true, that we, who are not so, have the most per
for our sight is more accurate in its per
fect sight
rality of

ceptions, qualifies us better for the business of life, and

coincides more exactly, or at least more immediately,
with the sensations received by the other senses*

the short-sighted, as well as they who have ihe

acutest sight, trust to this sense, as soon as they are
placed in a situation favourable to accurate observa
tion: all the difference is, that it is more difficult,
and often more inconvenient, for short sighted per

Yet

sons to place themselves in such a situation.

Still it
should be remembered thjat a perfect sense and a wellcall
informed sense are not synonymous terms.

We

a sense welt-informed,, in opposition to one that is de

praved or fallacious.
Perfection and imperfection
of sense are relative terms ; implying a comparison,

between different men, in respect of the acuteness of their senses and faculties ; or between any
sense, as it appears in a particular man, and the de
gree of acuteness which is found to belong to that

either

appears in the generality of m^pkind.

telescopes, one of which gives a di
stinct view of an object at two, and the other at four
both are equally well-informed, (if
miles distance

sense as

it

There are two

CHAP.
I

may

AN

T.

so speak)

ESSA.Y

that

is,

presentations j but the one

than the other.

ON

TRUTJI.

133;

equally true in their re*

much more

is

imperfect

I do not, at present, offer any further illustrations

The
of these criteria of a well-informed sense.
reader who examines them by the rules of common
at
prudence, will perhaps be satisfied with them
least I arn apt to think, that few will suspect the
veracity of their faculties when they stand this test.
But let it not be supposed, that 1 mean to insinuate,
that a man never trusts his faculties till he first ex
amine them after this manner we believe our senses
previously to all reflection or examination ; and ws
never disbelieve them, but upon the authority of our
senses placed in circumstances more favourable ta
accurate observation.
If the reader is not satisfied with these criteria,
it is no
The question concerning a
great matter.
well-informed sense it 1*3 not perhaps easy to answer.
I offer these remarks rather as hints to be attended
to by other adventurers in (his part of science, than
as a complete solution of the
If it were.
difficulty.
not that I presume some advantage
may be derived
from them in this way, I should have omitted them
for on them dees not depend the doctrine
altogether
I mean, to establish.
:

SECT.
Tie

III.

Intuitive truths
subject continued.
distinguish
able into classes.

the notions
attending the perception of certain

we

formerly mentioned this as one,,

such truth, we suppose we should
entertain the same sentiments and belief if we
were perfectly acquainted with all nature*." Lest
should be thought that we mean to extend this
truth,

That

"

it

iryegaru

to

no<*

See part 1, chap,

1.

AN ESSA? ON TRUTH.

f 34

PRAT

II.

seems proper to introduce here the

remarks.
following
1. The axioms and demonstrated conclusions of
tion too far,

it

geometry are certainly

to the nature of things.

true, and certainly agreeable

Thus we judge of them at

present ; and thus we necessarily believe, that we

should judge of them, even if we were endued with

omniscience and infallibility. It is a natural dictate

of human understanding, that the contrary of these
truths must for ever remain absurd and impossible,
and that omnipotence itself cannot change their na
ture ; though it might so deprave our judgment as
to make us disbelieve or not perceive them *.
2. That my body exists, and is endued with a
thinking, active, and permanent principle, which
*

Some

authors are of opinion, that all mathematical

resoiveable into identical propositions.
The fol
to
this purpose is taken from a Dissertation
remark
lowing
on Evidence, printed at Berlin in the year 1764.
Omnes
mathematicorum propositions sunt iclenticae, et rcpraesen
truth

is

"

"

"

*
"

"

"

"

"

44
"

"

44
"

"

**
"

"

"

"

tantur hac formula,

a=a Sunt

veritates identicas,

sub

varia forma expressae, imo ipsum, quod dicitur, contradictionis principium, vario modo enunciatum et involuturn

siquidem omnes hujus generis propositiones revera

Secundum nostram autem intelli-

in eo contineantur.

gendi facultatem ea est propositionum differentia, quod

quaedam longa ratiociniorum

via, ad primum
illud resolvantur.

hue cedit

omnium

serie, alia

Sic. v. g.

propositio 2 -f

1+1+1+1=1+1+1 + 1,

proprie loquendo, hoc

autem breviori

principium reducantur, et in

modo

i.

2=4, statim
idem 5 et,

e.

enunciari debet.

Si

con-

existere quatuor entia j turn existunt quatingat, adessevel

tucr entia ? namdeexistentianonaguntgeometraE, sedeahy-

pothetice tan turn subinteliigitur. Inde summa oritur certitudo ratiocinia perspicienti \ observat nempe idearum identitatemjet hxc est evidentia, assensum immediate cogens,
quam mathematicam aut geometricam vocamus. Mathesi

tamen sua natura priva non

est et propria ; oritur etenim

ex identitatis perceptione, quae locum habere potest, e-

tiamsi idess

non repr^sentent

extensum."

CHAP.
call

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

my

soul

135

That the material world hath such

an existence as the vulgar ascribe to it, that is, a real

is in
separate existence, to which its being perceived
That the men, beasts, houses^
no wise necessary
and mountains, we see and feel around us, are not
imaginary, but real and material beings, and such r
in respect of shape and tangible magnitude, as they
appear to our senses ; I am not only conscious that
I believe, but also certain, that such is the nature of
these things j and that, thus far at least, in regard toths
nature of these things,an omniscient and infallible being
cannot think me mistaken. Of these truths I am so
:

certain, that I scruple not to pronounce every being in

an error who is of a contrary sentiment concerning
them.
For suppose an intelligent creature, an angel
for instance, to believe that there are not in the uni
verse any such things as this solar system, this earth r

these mountains, houses, animals, this being whom

I call myself ; could I, by any effort, bring myself
to believe, that his opinion is a true one, and implies
a proposition expressive of
something agreeable to
the nature of things ? It is impossible and inconcei
vable.
understanding intimates, that such an

My

opinion would as certainly be false, as it is false that

two and two are equal to ten, or that things equal to
one and the, same thing are unequal to one another.
Yet this is an opinion which, omnipotence could ren
der true,, by annihilating the whole of this solar sys
tem ; or make me admit as true, by depiiving me of

But so long as this solar system re

understanding.
mains unannihilated, and my intellect undepraved,
there is not a geometrical axiom more true, or more
evident tome,. than that this solar system, and all the
objects above-mentioned, do exist there is not a geo
metrical axiom that has any better title to be ac^
counted a principle of human
^ there is
;

knowledge

not a geometrical axiom against which it is more ab*

surd, moie unreasonable, more iinphilosophica]^ to:
a.rgue,.

Ay ESSAY ON TRUTH.

136
3.

That snow

su.^ar sweet,
bodies affect
liar

manner

we

PART

II.

is white, fire hot,

gold yellow, and
believe to be certainly truer
These

our eyes, touch, and palate, in a pecu

we have no reason to think, that

;-^ind

the organs of different men in a different

on the contrary, we believe, wkh full as
surance, founded on sufficient reason, that they af
fect the senses of all men in the same manner.
The
peculiar sensation we receive from them depends on
three things ; on the nature of the object perceived,
on the nature of the organ of perception, and on the
nature of the percipient being.
Of each of these
the
could
the
nature
; and make
Deity
change
things
sugar bitter, fire cold, snow black, and gold green.
But till this be done ; in other words, while things
continue as they are, it is as certainly true, that snow

they

affect

manner

as that two and two are equal

whole greater than a part. If we sup
pose, that snow, notwithstanding its appearance, is
black, or not white, we must also suppose, that our
is white, fire hot, &:e.

to four, or a

senses and intellect are fallacious faculties ; and there

fore cannot admit any thing as true which has no bet
If a
ter evidence than that of sense and intellect.
creature of a different nature from man were to say,
black, and hot, I should reply, (suppos
use these words in the same sense in
which I use them), It may possibly have that ap
pearance to your senses, but it has not that appear
that

snow

ing him

is

to

ance to mine it may therefore, in regard to your facul

be tjjue ; and if so, it ought to constitute a part of
your philosophy : but of my philosophy it cannot
constitute a part, because, in respect of my faculties,
it is a false,
being contrary to fact and experience.
:

ties

If the same being were to affirm, that a part is equal

to a whole, I should answer, it is impossible ; none
can think so but those who are destitute of under
If he were to say, the solar system exstanding.

plained

by Newton does not

exist, I should answer,.

CHAP.

you

AN

I.

are mistaken

ESS \Y ON TRUTH,
if

your knowledge were not im

otherwise ; I am certain
by thus stating the case,
the difference between these three sorts of

perfect, you would

that it does exist.

think,

We

what

is

1 37

see,

But still^ in respect to man, these three

ce r tainty.
sorts are all equally evident, equally certain, at. d eand none of
of confutation
qually unsusceptible
them can be disbelieved or doubted by us, except
:

we disavow

the distinction between truth and false

by
hood,
supposing our faculties fallacious.
4. Of moral truth, we cannot bring ourselves to

think that the Deity s notions (pardon the expresIf we believe Him om
sion) are contrary to ours.
niscient and infallible, can we also believe, that, in
his sight, cruelty, injustice, and ingratitude, are
worthy of reward and praise, and the opposite vir

blame and punishment?

tues of

The one

It is

absolutely im

Com

belief destroys the other.

possible.
mon sense declares, that a being possessed of per
fect knowledge can no mere entertain such a senti

ment, than I with my eyes open can just now avoid

If a created being were, in all cases
seeing the li^ht.
to think that virtue which we think vice, and that
vice w7 hich we think virtue, what would be our no
tions of his intelligence ? Should we not, without

pronounce him irrational, and his opinion

an absurdity? The absurdity indeed is conceivable
and may be expressed in words that imply no contra-diction
but that any being should think in this man
and
ner,
yet not think wrong, is to us as perfectlyinconceivable as that the same thing should be both
.true and false*.
hesitation,

* Locke says that Moral Truth is susceptible of de

If by this he means, that it admits of evi
dence sufficient to satisfy every rational mind, he is cer
Eut if by the word demonstration be
tainly in the right.
meant, what Geometric ians mean by it, a proof that may
be resolved into one or more self-evident axioms whcse
monstration.

AN -ESSAY ON TRUTH.

13$

PART

II.

We

speak here of the great and leading principles

of moral duty.
Many subordinate duties there are,
which result from the form of particular govern
ments, and from particular modes of education ; and
there are some, which, though admirably adapted to
the improvement and perfection of our nature, are
yet so sublime, that the natural conscience of man
kind, unassisted by revelation, can hardly be sup
posed capable of discovering them but in regard to
justice, gratitude, and those other virtues, of which
no rational beings CSQ far as we know) are or can be
ignorant, it is impossible for us to believe that our
sentiments are wrong.
I say, there are duties of
which no rational beings can be ignorant for if
moral sentiments be the result of a bias, or vis insita,
communicated to the rational soul by its Creator,
then must they be as universal as rational nature,
and as permanent as the effects of any other natural
law ; and it is as absurd to argue against their trutli
or authenticity, as against the reality of any other
But several authors of note have
matter of fact,
denied this inference, as well as the principle whence
it proceeds ; or at least, by calling the one in ques
tion, have endeavoured to make us sceptical in re
gard to the other. They have endeavoured to prove,
that moral sentiment is different in different coun
tries, and under different forms of religion, govern
ment, and manners ; that therefore, in respect of it,
:

there

no

is

vis insita in the

mind

for that, previous

to education, we are in a state of perfect indifference

as to virtue and vice ; and that an opposite course of
contraries are inconceivable,

we

confess that neither

moral

susceptible of demonstration, nor

other truths of the most unquestionable certainty.

nor historical truth

many
However
use this

it is

is

not to be supposed, that Locke intended to

stricter sense than what is fixed by

word in any

to which, every proof that

general practice j according
to the reason or senses may
brings indubitable evidence
properly be called a demonstration.
;

CHAP.

I.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

education v/ould have made us think that virtue

which now we think vice, and that vice which now
we think virtue in a word, that moral sentiments
:

are as
as

our

much

the effect of custom and

taste in dress,

furniture,

human

artifice,

and the modes of

In proof of this doctrine, a multi

conversation.
tude of facts have been brought together, to show
the prodigious diversity, and even contrariety, that
takes place in the moral opinions of different ages,

Of all our modern sceptical

notions, this seemed to me one of the most danger
own satisfaction, and for the sake of
For
ous.
nations, and climates.

those

my
whom it is my

duty to instruct,

have been at

great pains to examine it ; and the examination has

But the mate
turned out to my entire satisfaction.
rials I have collected on this subject are far too

The sceptical arguments

to be inserted here.
are founded, not only on mistakes concerning the na
ture of virtue, but also on some historical facts mis
bulky

represented, and on others so equivocal, and bare of

circumstances, that they really have no meaning.
From the number of historical, as well as philoso
phical disquisitions, which I found it necessary to
introduce, the inquiry concerning the universality

and immutability of moral truth, which I thought

have comprised in a few pages, soon swelled into
a treatise.
I meant to have finished it some years
ago ; but have hitherto been prevented by a number
of unforeseen accidents.
to

Of

probable truth, a superior being may think

from us, and yet be in the right. For
every proposition is either true or false ; and everjprobable past event has either happened, or not hap
pened, as every probable future event will either
happen or not happen. From the imperfection of
our faculties, and from the narrowness of our expe
rience, we may judge wrong, when we think that a
certain event has happened, or will
happen and a
being of more extensive experience, and more per*
5.

differently

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

143

PART

ir.

feet understanding, may see that we judge

wrong ;
for that the event in question never did happen, nor
Yet it does not follow, that a man may
ever will.

either prudently or rationally distrust his probable

notions as fallacious. That which man, by the con
stitution of his nature, is determined to admit as pro

bable, he ought to admit as probable ; for, in regard

to man, that is probable truth.
Not to admit it
probable, when at the same time he must believe it
and not to believe that
to be so, is mere obstinacy
:

probable, which

men who have

the* same
view of all the circumstances, believe probable,
would be ascribed to caprice, or want of under
If one in such a case were refractory, we
standing.
all

other

How

comes it, that you think

should naturally ask,
differently from us in this matter ? have you any
reason to think us in a mistake ? is your knowledge
of the circumstances from which we infer the pro
bability of this event, different from ours ? do you
know any thing about it, of which we are ignorant?
If he reply in the negative, and yet persist in con
tradicting our opinion, we should
him an unreasonable man. Every

which

to

certainly think
thing, therefore,

huraan creatures seems intuitively proba

ble, is to .be accounted one of the first principles of

human creature acts
probable Iranian knowledge.

and if
an irrational part when he argues against it
he refuse to acknowledge it probable, he cannot,
without contradicting himself, acquiesce in any other
human probability whatsoever.
It appears from what has been said, that there are
various kinds of intuitive certainty ; and that those
who will not allow any truth to be self-evident, ex
;

cept what has all the characteristics of a geometrical

axiom, are much mistaken. From the view we have
given of this subject, it would be easy to reduce
ihese intuitive certainties into classes; but this is
are here
not necessary on the present occasion.
of
as
truth
and
the
nature
of
immutability
treating

We

GHAP.

AN

II.

ESSA5T

ON TRUTH.

14!

Whatever
perceived by human faculties.
proposition man, by the law of his nature, must be
lieve as certain, or as probable, is, in regard to
him, certain or probable truth ; and must constitute
a part of human knowledge, and remain unalterably
the same, as long as the human constitution remains
And we must often repeat, that he who
vmajtered.
intuitive

attempts to disprove such intuitive truth, or to make

sceptical in regard to it, acts apart as inconsist
ent with sound reasoning, and as effectually subver
sive of all human knowledge, as if he attempted to
disprove truths which he knew to be agreeable to the
eternal and necessary relations of things.
Whether
the Deity can or cannot change these truths into
falsehoods, we need not seek to determine, because
it is of no
consequence to us to know. It becomes
us better to inquire, with humility and rtver^iice,
into what he has done, than vainly, and perhaps pre
sumptuously, into what he can do. Whatever he
has been pleased to establish in the universe, is as

men

certainly established, as if it were in itself unchange

able and from eternity ; and, while he wills it to rewhat he made it, is as permanent as his own
nature,

mam

CHAP.
The preceding theory

TXTE

II.

rejected by sceptical writers

have seen, that mathematicians and natural

do, in etTect, acknowledge the

between common sense and reason, as above explained admitting the dictates of the former
as ultimate and
unquestionable principles, and never
attempting either to prove or to disprove them by

philosophers

distinction

If we inquire a little into the

reasoning.
genius of
modern scepticism, we shall see, that, there, a very
difterent plan of
investigation lias been adopted.
Tiiis will best
appear by instances taken from that

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

14 2

But

pretended philosophy.

PART

II.

us offer a few

first let

general remarks.

SECTION
General Observations.
dern

I.

PJse and Progress of

Mo

Scepticisfti.

~F HE Cartesian philosophy is to be considered

*as the ground- work of modern scepticism.

r
i

The

source of LOCKE S reasoning against the separate

of the secondary qualities of matter, of
BERKELEY S reasoning against the existence of a
material world, and of HUME S reasoning against the
existence both of soul and body, may be found in
the first part of the Principia of DES CARTES. Yet
nothing seems to have been farther from the inten
tion of -this worthy and. most ingenious philosopher,
than to give countenance to error, irreligion, or li
centiousness.
He begins with doubting ; but it is
with a view to arrive at conviction his successors
(some of them at least) the further they advance in
existence

their systems, become more and more sceptical ; and

at length the reader is told, to his infinite pleasure
and emolument, that the understanding, acting alone,

does intirely subvert itself, and leaves not ,the

lowest degree of evidence in any proposition what
soever *.

The

thing a philosopher ought to do, accord

is to divest himself of all pre
judices, and all his former opinions ; to reject the
evidence of sense, of intuition, and of mathematical
demonstration to suppose that there is no God, nor
heaven, nor earth ; and that man has neither hands,
in a word, he is to doubt of
nor feet, nor body ;
it is possible to
which
of
doubt, and to
every thing
be persuaded, that every thing is false which can
doubtful.
there ^is
possibly be conceived to be

ing to

first

DES CARTES,

Now

Treatise of

Human

Nature, vol.

I, p.

464.

GHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

only one point of which

it

is

143

possible

to

doubt,

namely, That I, the person who doubts, am think

This proposition, therefore, / think, and this
ing.
for granted \ and nothing else
only, may be taken
whatsoever is to be believed without proof.
What is to be expected from this strange intro
?
One or other of these two things must neces
This author will eithar believe nothing
follow.
sarily
at all, or if he believe any thing, it must be upon the

duction

recommendation of

But DES CARTES

false

and sophistical reasoning.*

no sceptic in his moral reason

in his moral reasonings he must be a
ings, therefore
Let us see, whether we can make good
sophister.
this

is

charge against

Taking

it

him by

facts.

for granted, that

he exists
Ego

he thinks, he thence

I
cogito, ergo sum
there cannot be
therefore I exist.
thought where there is no existence ; before he takeit for
granted that he thinks, he must also take it for

infers, that

think

Now

exists.
This argument, therefore,
granted that he
proceeds on a supposition, that the thing to be prov
ed is true ; in other words, it is a sophism, a petiEven supposing it possible to con
tio principii.
ceive thinking without at the same time conceiving
existence, still this is no conclusive argument, ex
cept it could be shown, that it is more evident to a
man that he thinks, than that he exists ; for in eve
ry true proof a less evident proposition is inferred
from one that is more evident. But, / think and /
Therefore this is no
exist, are equally evident.
true proof.- To set an example of false reasonincr
in the very foundation of a. system, can hardly fail

to

have bad consequences.

Having

in this

manner established

his

own

exis

tence, our author next proceeds to prove the vera

city of his faculties; that is ? to show by reasoning
that what he thinks true, is really true, and that

what bethinks

false is really false.

* See the

first

He would

part of this Essay,,.

M3

have*

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

J44

PART

ir.

done better to have taken this also for granted the

argument by which he attempts to prove it, does
more honour to his heart than to his understanding.
It is indeed a sophism of the same kind with the for
mer, in which he takes that for granted which he
:

It runs thus
We aj e conscious,
our minds the idea of a being infi
nitely perfect, intelligent, and powerful, necessarily
existent and eternal. This idea differs from all our
It implies the notions
ether ideas in two respects
of eternal and necessary existence, and of infinite per
it neither is, nor can
fection
be, a fiction of the
imagination and therefore exhibits no chimera or
imaginary being, but a true and immutable nature,
-which must of necessity exist, because necessary exis
tence is comprehended in the idea of it. Therefore

means

that

to prove.

we have

in

there

is

God,

necessarily

existent, infinitely wise,

powerful and true, and possessed of all perfection. This

Being is the maker of us and of all our faculties. he
cannot deceive, because he is infinitely perfect ;
therefore our faculties are true, and not fallacious*.
;

The same argument has*been adopted by

..

particularly by Dr Barrow.
that pious and learned author,

others,

"

says
hath well observed,
*
that, to make us absolutely certain of our having
attained the truth, it is required to be known,
*
whether our faculties of apprehending and judging
*
the truth, be true ; which can only be known from
**
the power, goodness and truth of our Creator f .
I object not to this argument for the divine exis
tence, drawn from the idea of an all-perfect being, of
Cartesius",

"

*<

which the human mind is conscious; though perhaps

th s is not the most unexceptionable method of evin
I allow, that when a man becing that great truth.
.i ves a God, he cannot, without absurdity and impiety,
deny or question the veracity of his own faculties ;
end that to acknowledge a distinction between truth
i.nd falsehood,

implies a persuasion, that certain laws

* Cartesii Princip. Philos.

part 1.
t Lect, Gee-met. 7.

14. 15. 18.

AN ESSAY OU TRUTH.

CHAP. Hi

145

are established in the universe, on which the nature.?

of all created things depend, which (to me at leastj),
is incomprehensible, except on the supposition of a

But I ac
intelligent, directing cause.
I take the vera
quiesce in these principles, because
city of my faculties for granted ; and this I feel my
self necessitated to do, because I feel it to be the law
of my nature which I cannot possibly counteract.
Proceeding then upon this innate and irresistible no
tion, that my faculties are true, I infer, by the justest reasoning, that God exists ; and the evidence for
this great truth is so clear and convincing, that lean,
not withstand its force, if I believe any thing else
supreme,

whatsoever.

DKS CARTES argues in a

God exists, (says he),

cause

my

faculties

know

that

are true.

God

exists

different

and

is

Right.
I

infer

it

manner.

Be

perfect, therefore

But how do you

from the second

principle of

my philosophy,, already established;

How do you know that your in
Cogito ergo 3um.
ference is just ? It satisfies my reason.
Your argu*
ment proceeds on a supposition, that what satisfies
your reason is true ? It does, -Do you not then take
it for
granted, that your reason is not a fallacious j
but a true faculty ? This must be taken for granted,
argument is good for nothing. And
your argument proceeds on a supposition, that
the point to be proved is true.
In a woid,. you pre
o-thervvise the

if so,

tend to prove the truth of our faculties, by an argu

necessarily supposes their

ment which evidently and

Your philosophy

is built on sophisms ; how

be according to common sense ?
As this philosopher doubted where he ought to
have been confident, so he is often confident where
he ought to doubt. He admits not his own existence,
till he thinks he has
proved it ; yet his system is
replete with hypotheses taken for granted, without
He sets out
proof, almost without examination.
with the profession of universal scepticism ; but

truth.

then can

it

AN ESSAY ox TRUTH.

fc 4-6

FARTH;

many

of his theories are founded in the most unphiHad he taken a little more for
granted, he would have proved a great deal more
he takes almost nothing for granted,
speak of what
lie professes, not of what he
performs) ; and there
In geometry, however, he
fore he proves nothing.
losophical credulity.

("I

is rational

marks

and ingenius

in his discourse

some curious

there are

on the passions

are fanciful and plausible

;.

re

his physics

his treatise on

music per

a lively imagination
spicuous, though superficial
seems to- have been his chief talent ; want of knowledge in the grounds of evidence his principal defect.
:

We

are informed by Father MALEBRANCHE, that

the senses were at first as honest faculties as one
could desire to be endued with, till after they were
debauched by original sin an adventure, from which
they contracted such an invincible propensity to
cheating, that they are now continually lying in wait
to deceive us.
But there is in man, it seemsj a cer
;

tain clear-sighted, stout,

old faculty,

called reason,

which, without being deceived by appearances, keeps

an eye upon the rogues, and often proves too cun
MALEBRANCHE therefore adviseth
ning for them.
If a man has
us to doubt with all our might.
*
let him not ionly learned to doubt," says he,
magine that he has made an inconsiderable proin science ? Is
in what ?
Progress
gress
it not a contradiction, or at least an inconsistency, in
"

"

"

"

*."

terms, to say that a

By doubting f
Dublin, andfirst

of

to sit

to

all to sit

still,

man makes

If one

were

progress in science
the way to

to ask

receive for answer, that he ought

for that if he had only learned
;

down

he might be assured, that he had made no

progress in his journey , I suppose

inconsiderable

on

on ne s imagine pas, que

a seuiement appris a dcuter.

Qu

La

on

ait

peu

avarice,

si

Recherche de la Ferite, Iw. \.ch. 20.

t Est contrarietss inter verba scivi, et dubia sunt*

JDes Cartes, Object, et Respons*

CflAF.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

IP.

147

he would hardly trouble his informer with a second

question.

author makes a distinction between

It is true, this

the doubts of passion, brutality, and blindness, and

the
those of prudence, distrust, and penetration
are
the
doubts
of
and
Academics
former, says he,
Atheists ; the latter are the doubts of the true phi
*
It is true also, that he allows us to give:
losopher
an entire consent to the things that appear entirely
:

evident f.
principles of

But he adopts, notwithstanding, th&

first philosophy, That

DES CARTES

we ought to begin our inquiries with universal doubt^

taking only our own consciousness for granted, and
thence inferring our existence,, and the existence o
God, and proving,- from the divine veracity, that our
Wherever it is pos
faculties are not fallacious.
sible that a deluding spirit may deceive us, there,
says MALEBRANCHE, we ought to doubt J ; but a
deluding spirit may deceive us wherever our me
mory

is

employed

in

reasoning

therefore, in

all-

such reasonings, there may be error.

And if so,,
there may be error in reasoning of every kind ; forwithout memory there can be no reasoning
but in
:

the truths discovered by a single glance, (connois*

sauces de simple v.u /) 9 such as this, That two and
<

two make

not possible, for a deluding god r

(dieu trompeur), however powerful, to deceive him.It is easy to see, that such doctrines must leadeither to sophistry or to universal scepticism, or ra
ther to, both.
For if a demonstrated conclusion may
be false for any thing I know to the contrary, arr
axiom may be so too ; my belief of the first is not*
*

four,

it is

Recherche de la Verite, liv. 1. eh. 20. sect. 3.

oa ne doit jamais- dormer un consentement entier,

Qu

qu, a des choses qui paroissent entierement evidentes.

Rechereke de la Verite^ /iv. 1. ch. 20. sect. 3.
This is in

deed a rational scepticism, such as Aristotle recommends,

and every friend to truth must approve*
Id. iiv, 6,

ch>

6,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

148

PART

II.

less necessary, than

my belief of the last. Intuition

evidence, the clearest, and most immediately
convincing ; but demonstration produces absolute
certainty, and full conviction^in the mind of him who
is,

of

all

understands
ledges,

God

no deceiver

is

MALEB-RANCIJE, indeed, acknow

it *.

we may

th*it

reason when once we know that

but this, he says, must be known

one glance, (that is, I suppose, intuitively), or it

cannot be known at all ; for all reasoning en this/
subject may be fallacious f.
But I do not pretend to unfold all the false and
To
sceptical principles of this author s philosophy.
confess the truth, I do not well understand it.
He
is generally mystical ; often, if I mistake not, selfcontradictory ; and his genius is strangely warped
by a superstitious veneration for the absurdities of
Popery. He rejects the evidence of sense, becauseit seems repugnant to his reason
he admits transubstantiation, though certainly repugnant both to rea
Of Aristotle, and Seneca, and the oson and sense.
ther ancient philosophers, he says that their lights
are nothing but thick darkness, and their most illus
trious virtues, nothing but intolerable pride
Fy,
M. MALEBRANCHE Popery with all its absurdities,,
requires not from its adherents so un candid, and so
at

a declaration.
An Aristotelian, of your
religion and country, and nearly of your own
Aristotle,
age, delivers a very different doctrine ;
illiberal

own

"

"

"

"

"

supported by philosophy, hath ascended by the

steps of motion even to the knowledge of one first

mover, who is God. In order to arrive at the

knowledge of divine things, we must learn science

See the second chapter of the first book of the latter

The great philosopher holds, that
Analytics of Aristotle.
iiituii-ion and demonstration are equally productive of know
ledge ; though the former be the first, the clearest, and
most immediate evidence.
f Recherche de la Verite, liv. 6. ch. 6.
Recherche de la Verite, liv, 6. ch. G.
J.
*

CHAP. n.
t

"

"

"

u
"

**
*

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

149

otherwise we shall fall into error.

Philosophy
and theology bear testimony to, and mutually confirm each other, and produce a more perfect kriowlatter teaches what we
ledge of the truth ; the
makes us believe it
and
to
reason
believe,
ought
more easily, and with greater steadiness. They

two

are
"

A:;

lights,

which, by their union, yield a more

them could yield

Moses learned the
philosophy of the Egyptians, and Daniel in Balustre than either of

brilliant

singly, or both if separated.

bylon that of the Chaldeans

and judicious Peripatetic goes on

"

*."

This learned

show, that Je
rome, Augustine, Gregory of Nice, and Clemens
Alexandrinus, entertained the same honourable opinion
If DES CARTKS. and
of the ancient Philosophers.
his disciple MALEBRANCHE, had studied the ancients
more, and indulged their own imagination less, they
would have made a better figure in philosophy, and
done much more service to mankind. But it was

aim

their

to

decry the ancients as

to

much

as possible

and ever since their time, it has been too much the
fashion to overlook the discoveries of former ages,
as altogether unnecessary to the improvement of the
MALI/BRANCHE often inveighs against Ari

present.
stotle

ness

in

particular,

and

with the most virulent bitter-

atFects, 0:1 all occasions, to treat

him with

Had this great ancient em

f.
in
the
his
subversion of virtue, or in
ployed
genius
establishing tenets incompatible with the principles
supreme contempt

would have deserved the se

MALE-BLANCHE lays nothing
he only finds him guilty
charge

of natural religion, he
verest censure.
But

of this kind to his

;
of some .speculative errors in natural philosophy.
Aristotle was not exempted from that fallibility
which is incident to human nature ; yet it would not
be amiss, jf our mcdern wits would study him a little
*

Bouju.

1614.

Introduction a la Philosophic, chap. 9. Paris

folio.

Sec Recherche de la Verite,

iiv. 6,

ch. 5.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II,

Before they venture to decide so positively on his

abilities and character.
It is observable, that he is
most admired by those who best understand him.
jNow, the contrary is true of our modern sceptics
they are most admired by those who read them least,
and who take their characters upon trust, as they find
them delivered in coffee-houses, and drawing-rooms,
and other places of fashionable conversation, whose
doctrines tilo so much honour to the virtue and good
-sense of this enlightened age.
I have sometimes heard the principles of the Socratic school urged as a precedent to justify our mo
dern Sceptics.
Modern scepticism is of two kinds,
.unlike in their nature, though the one be the foun
dation of the other.
BES CARTES begins with uni
versal doubt, that in the end he may arrive at-conviction ; HUME begins xvith hypothesis, and ends
with, universal doubt. Now, does not Aristotle pro
:

-.

all -investigation should begin with doubt ?

does not Socrates affirm, that he knows nothing
certainly except his own ignorance ?
All this is true,
Aristotle proposes, that inves
*.
He compares
tigation should begin with doubt
doubting to a knot, which it is the end of investiga
tion to disintangle ; and there can be no solution,
where there is no knot or difficulty to be solved.
But Aristotle s doubt is quite of a different nature
from that of DES CARTES. The former admits as

pose, that

And

true whatever is self-evident, without seeking to

who at
prove it ; nay, he affirms, that those men
think
or
who
self-evident
to
principles,
prove
tempt
that such principles may be proved, are ignorant of
It differs also most essential
the nature of proof f.
HUME. The reason
of
from
the
scepticism
ly

Mr

in doubt ; whereas
ings of this author all terminate
Aristotle s constant aim is, to discover truth, and es.*,
<x

Aristot. Metaphys. lib. 3. cap. 1.

y K ouyroc rev

oe<r^c0?,

&c.

f Arktot. Metaphys,

lib. 4.

cap. 4,

At^x

vx

fV/v

CHAP.

AN ESSAY

ir.

o>r

TRUTH.

151

tablish conviction. He defines philosophy the Science

Truth ; divides it into speculative and practical ;

of

and expressly declares that truth is the end of the

former, and action of the latter *.
Cicero, in order to compliment a sect, of which,
however, he was not a consistent discinje, ascribes
to Socrates a very high degree of scepticism f
making his principles nearly the same with those of
;

New

Academy, who professed

to believe, that
in darkness, that nothing
so
are
involved
things
The only difference
can be known with certainty.
between them, according to Cicero in this place, is,
his
that Socrates affirmed, that he knew nothing

the
all

"but

own

ignorance

whereas Arcesilas and the

New Academy,

the

held, that

man

could

rest of

know noth

ing, not even his own ignorance, with certainty

and therefore, that affirmation of every kind is ab

But we need not take

surd and unphilosophical.
on the authority of Cicero ; as we have access
to the same original authors from whom he received
And if we consult them, particu
his information.
larly Xenophon, the most unexceptionable of them
this

point of veracity, we shall find, that the rea

sonings, the sentiments, and the conduct of Socrates,
are altogether incompatible with scepticism.
The
all in

first science that

engaged his attention was natural
philosophy ; which, as it was taught in those days
by Zeno, Anaxagoras, and Xenophanes, had very
little to recommend it to a man of sense and can
dour.
Socrates soon relinquished it, from a per
suasion that it was at once unprofitable, and founded
in uncertainty ; and employed the rest of his life in.

rpU

O^G&C
TVC
.,

-a\jj9fc/af.

TO KCiKWCt.

S-wfyriMt; plv yap

Metapbys.
t Cic. Academ.

lib. 1.

cap. 12.

lib.

2. cap. 1.

15

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II.

the cultivation of moral philosophy, a science which

to him seemed more satisfactory in its evidence, and
more useful in its application*. So far was he

from being

sceptical in regard to the principles of

moral duty, that he inculcated them with earnest
ness wherever he found opportunity, and thought
it incumbent on every man to make himself
acquaint
In his reasonings, indeed, he did
ed with them.
not formerly lay down any principle, because it was
his method to deduce his conclusions from what was
acknowledged by his antagonist: but is this any
proof, that he himself did not believe his own conclu
sions? Read the story of hislifej his conduct never be
lied his principles: observe the manners of our sceptics
their conduct and principles do mutually and invari
Do you seek still more
ably bely one another.
convincing evidence, that Socrates felt, believed, and
avowed the truth ? Read the defence he made be
See you there any signs of doubt,
fore his judges.
;

hesitation, or fear ? any suspicion of the possibility

being in the wrong? any dissimulation, soph

.of his

? See
you not, on the contrary, the ut
most plainness and simplicity, the calmest and most
deliberate fortitude, and that noble assurance which
so well becomes the cause of truth and virtue? Few
men have shewn so firm an attachment to truth,

art
istry, or

as to lay

Socrates.

down

for its sake

yet this did
external profession of any
but in his death, and through

their life

He made no

Dhilosophical creed ;
the whole of his life, he shewed the steadiest adher

ence to principle
sistent.

and

tells

and his principles were

all

con

Xenophon has recorded many of these;

us, in regard to some of them, that Socrates

men fools who differed

scrupled not to call those
from his opinionf. The sophists of his age were
not solicitous to discover truth, but only to confute
* Xenoph. Memorab.
i

Xenoph. Memorab.

lib. 1.

cap. 1. et lib. 4. cap. 7.

lib. 1. cap. 1.

passim.

CHAP.

ir.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

153-

an adversary, and reason plausibly in behalf of

their theories. That they might have the ampler field
for this sort of speculation, they confined them
selves, like our modern metaphysicians, to general
topics, such as the nature of good, of beauty, and the
like j on which one may say a great many things
with little meaning, and offer a variety of argu
ments without one word of truth. Socrates did
much to discredit this abuse of science. In his
conversation he did not trouble himself with the
His aim was, not to
niceties of artificial logic.
confute an adversary, nor to guard against that
verbal confutation which the sophists were per
petually attempting, but to do good to those with
whom he conversed, by laying their duty befere
them in a striking and persuasive manner*. He
was not fond of reasoning on abstract subjects, espe
do with a sophist ; well know
cially when he had to
answer
no other purpose than to
that
this
could
ing,
furnish matter for endless and unprofitable logoma
When, therefore, Aristippus asked him conchy.
cerning the nature of good f, with a view to confute,
or at least to tease him, with quibbling evasions, So
crates declined to

answer

in general

terms

and De

sired the sophist to limit his question,

by confining
the word good to some particular
thing.
you
ask me, says he, what is good for a fever, for sore

Do

-eyes, or for

hunger ? No, says the sophist. If, re

you ask me concerning the nature of a good
which is good for no particular purpose, 1 tell youonce for all, that I know of none such, and have no
desires after it.
In like manner, he answers to the

plies he,

"

TVJ
01

ffwvTxe 0$tXt*

puxarra^ctrofj

(A.YI

TTV

Koyoq

Xenopk. Memorab.
t

Id. Ibid.

N2

lib. 3.

cap. 8,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

154

PART

II.

general question concerning beauty, by desiring his

adversary to confine himself to some particular kind
of beauty.
What would the great moralibt have
thought of those modern metaphysical treatises,

which seem

have nothing ehe

in view, but to con

questionable definitions of general ideas
Simple, certain, and useful truth, was the
constant, and the only object of this philosopher s
to

trive vain and

!

iaquiry.

True

it

is,

thing but his

he sometimes

own

ignorance.

said,

that he

And

knew no

surely the high

human knowledge are imperfect

and unsatisfying. Yet man knows something So
crates was consciovis that he knew something; other
wise Xenophon would not have asserted, that his oest attainments in

pimons concerning God, and Providence, and Reli

gion, and Moral Duty, were well known to nil the
Athenians *. But Socrates was humble, and made
n pretensions to any thing extraordinary, either in
virtue or in knowledge.
He professed no science ;
he instructed others, without pedantry, and without
;
exemplifying the beauty and the practica
of
virtue, by the innocence and integrity of
bility
his life, and by the charms of an instructive, though
most insinuating, conversation f. I shall allow our
modern sceptics to avail themselves all they can of
the authority of DES CARTES and MALEBRANCHE,
of Pyrrho and Anaxarchus ; but let them not pre
sume to sanctify their trash with the venerable names
of Socrates and Aristotle.
Cicero seems to have been an Academic rather in

parade

name than in reality. And I am apt to think, from

several passages in his works t, that he made choice
of this denomination, in order to have a pretence for
and conse
reasoning on either side of every question,
an ampler field for a display of his rhetoriquently
*

Xenoph. Memcrab.

lib. 1.

t Ibid. cap. 2.
J See particularly DeOJkiis,

cap. 1.

lib. 3.

cap. 4.

De

Fato,cap.2.

CHAP.

AN

rr.

ESSAY ON IRUTH.

155

To

Pyrrho, Herillus, Aristo, and ci

||.
ther sceptics,. who, by asserting that all things are
indifferent, destroy the distinction of virtue and vice,

cal talents

he will not allow even the name of philosopher nay,

he insinuates that it is impudence in such persons to
I wish,
says he in another
pretend to it *.
:

"

"

place,

that they

who suppose me

sufficiently acquainted
"

am

"

ror,

with

my

sceptic

sentiments.

were
For

not one of those whose mind wanders in erwithout any fixed principle. For what sort

of understanding must that man possess, what sort

of life must that man lead, who, by divesting himself of principle,, divests himself of the means,
both of reasoning and of living f
Let it be ob
served also, that when the subject of his inquiry is
of high importance, as in his books on moral duties,
and on the nature of the gods, he follows the doc
trine of the Dogmatists, particularly the Stoics and
ssserts his moral and religious principles with a
warmth and energy which prove him to have been in

"

"

"

!"

earnest.
2. Nothing was further from the intention of
LOCKE, than to encourage verbal controversy, or
advance doctrines favourable to scepticism.
To do
good to mankind, by inforcing virtue, illustrating
truth, and vindicating liberty, was his sincere pur
His writings
pose and lie did not labour in vain.
are to be reckoned among the few books that have
been productive of real utility to mankind.
But
:

candour obliges
ll

me

to

remark, that some of his

See this point illustrated in

COURSE OF FREKTH INKING, &c.

(Dr Bent/ey),.E,dh.
De officiis, lib. 1. cap.

siensis
*

REMARKS UPON A
By Phileleutherus

te

Lip"

7th, page 262.

2,

Quibus vellern satis cognita esset nostra sententia,,

Non enim sumus ii, quorum vagetur animus errore, nee
habeat unquam quid sequatur. Quae enim esset ista
mens,
vel quoe vita
potius, non modo di sputandi, sed vivendi nu
-f

ticne sublata

Cic.

de

Officiis^ lib. 2.

cap. g,

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

Ij6

PART

II.

nets seem to be too

rashly admitted, for the sake of
a favourite hypothesis.
That some of them have

promoted scepticism, is undeniable. He seems in

deed to have been sensible, that there were inaccu
racies in his work
and candidly owns, that
some
"

hasty and indigested thoughts on a subject never

before considered, gave the first entrance to his
*
Essay ; which, being begun by chance, was continued by intrtaty, written by incoherent parcels,
*
and after long intervals of neglect resumed again,
*
as humour or occasion permitted
The first book of his Essay, which, with submis
sion, I think the worst, tends to establish this dan
gerous doctrine, That the human mind, previous to
education and habit, is as susceptible of any one im
a doctrine which, if true,,
pression as of any other
would go near to prove, that truth and virtue are
"

"

"

*."

no better than human contrivances , or, at least, that:

they have nothing permanent in their nature, but
may be as changeable as the inclinations and capaci
ties of men ; and that, as we understand the term,
there is no such thing as common sense in the world.
Surely this is not the doctrine that LOCKE meant to
establish j but his zeal against innate ideas, and in

nate principles, put him off his guard, and made him
allow too little to instinct, for fear of allowing too

This controversy, so
sentiment, we have examined

much.

far as it regards moral

At
in another place.

that if truth be any

present we would only observe,
it must be if it be any thing
which
thing permanent,
at all, those perceptions or impulses of understand
which we become conscious of it, must be
ing, by
which they could not be, if they
equally permanent ;
on education, and if there were not a law

depended

of nature, independent on man, which determines

the understanding in some cases to believe, in others
Is it possible to imagine, that any
to disbelieve.
*

Preface to the Essay on

Human

Understanding.

CHAP.

AN

II.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

Ttf;

course of education could ever bring a rational crea

ture to believe, that two and two are equal to three,,
and that he is not the same person to-day he was yes
he stands on does not exist ?
terday,, that the ground
could make him disbelieve the testimony of his own
senses, or that of other men ? could make him ex
pect unlike events in like circumstances ? or that
the course of nature, of which he has hitherto had
experience, will be changed, even when he foresees
no cause to hinder its continuance ? I can no more,
believe, that education could produce such a depra
vity of judgment, than that education could make,
me see all human bodies in an inverted position, or
hear with my nostrils, or take pleasure in burning,
or cutting my flesh. Why should not our judgments
concerning truth be acknowledged to result from a.
bias impressed upon the mind by its Creator, as well
as our desire of self-preservation, our love of so
ciety, our resentment of injury, our joy in the pos
session of good ? If those judgments be not instinc
tive, I should be glad to know how they come to be
universal the modes of sentiment and behaviour
produced by education are uniform only where edu
cation is uniform ; but there are many truths which,
have obtained universal acknowledgment in all ages
and nations. If those judgments be not instinctive,
I should be glad to know how men find it so diffi
cult, or rather impossible, to lay them aside the false:

opinions we imbibe from habit and education, may

be, and often are, relinquished by those who make a
proper use of their reason ; and the msn who thus,

renounces former prejudices, upon conviction of their

applauded by all as a man of candour^
sense, and spirit j but if one were to suffer himself
to be argued out of his common sensej the whole,
falsity ? is

world would pronounce him a

The substance, or
BERKELEY S argument
ter,

may

be found in

fool.

the foundation, of
the
existence of mat-*
against
at

least

LOCKE

Essay, and

in

the.

AW ESSAY ON TRUTH.

58
Prlncipia of

DES CARTES.

be conclusive,

And

PART
if this

II.

argument

proves that to be false which every

man must necessarily believe every moment of his
life to be true, and that to be true which no man
since the foundation of the world was ever capable
of believing for a single moment. BERKELEY S doc
trine attacks the most incontestable dictates of com
mon sense ; and pretends to demonstrate, that the
clearest principles of human conviction, and those
which have determined the judgment of all men in
all ages, and by which the
judgment of all rational
men must be determined, are certainly fallacious.
Mr HUME, more subtle, and less reserved, than
any of his predecessors, hath gone still greater
lengths in the demolition of common sense ; and
reared in its place a most tremendous fabric of doc
trine ; upon which, if it were not for the flimsiness
of its materials, engines might easily be erected, suf
ficient to overturn all belief, science, religion, virtue,
and society, from the very foundation. He calls this
Treatise of Human Nature; being an atwork,
introduce the experimental method of
to
tempt
"

it

"

**

This is, in the

reasoning into moral subjects.
style of Edmund Curl, a taking title page ; but, aThe whole of this
Fronti nulla fides
]as ;
author s system is founded on a false hypothesis ta
"

!"

ken

for granted

and whenever a

fact contradictory

to that false hypothesis occur? to his observation, he

either denies it, or labours hard to explain it away.

seems, in his judgment, is experimental rea

in mine, it is just the reverse.
He begins his book with affirming, That all the
perceptions of the human mind resolve themselves
into two classes, impressions and ideas ; that the
latter are all copied from the former ; and that ?.n i-

This,

soning

it
:

dea differs from its correspondent impression only in

Thus, when I sit by
being n weaker perception.
the fire, I have an impression of heat, and I can form
sn idea of heat when I am shivering with cold j in

AN ESSAY ON 1RUTH.

CHAP. II.

I have a stronger perception of heat, in

the one
Is there any warmth in this
the other a weaker.
idea of heat ? There must, according to Mr HUME S
doctrine j only the warmth of the idea is not quite
For this pro
so strong as that of the impression.
found author repeats it again and again, that an idea
is by its nature weaker and fainter than an impres
ca:>e

but is in every other respect (not only similar,

the
same*.
Nay, he goes further, and says,
but)
that whatever is true of the one must be acknowledg
ed concerning the other f ; and he is so confident of
the truth of this maxim, that he makes it one of the
sion,

pillars of his

philosophy.

clined to admit this

maxim

To

those

who may

on his authority,

be in

would

Do you feel any,

propose a few plain questions.
even the least, warmth, in the idea of a bonefire, a
burning mountain, or the general conflagration ? Do
you feel more real cold ia VirgiPs Scythian winter,
than in Milton s description of the flames of hell ?
Do you acknowledge that to be true of the idea of
eating, which is certainly true of the impression of
it, that it alleviates hunger, fills the belly, and contri
butes to the support of human life ?
If you answer
these questions in the negative, you deny one of the
fundamental principles of Mr HUME S philosophy.

We

have,

when we

it is

see

true, a livelier perception of a friend

ave think of him in his

him than when

absence. But
mind knows,

this is

not

all

every person of a sound

that in the one case we believe, and are

certain, that the object exists, and is present with us ;
in the other we believe, and are certain, that the ob

not present which, however, Mr HUME must

for he maintains, that an idea differs from an
impression only in being weaker, and in no other re
spect whatsoever.
That every idea should be a copy and resemblance

ject

is

deny

Treatise of
Ibid. p. 41.

Human

Nature, vol.

1. p.

131.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II.

of the impression whence it is derived

that, for
example, the idea of red should be a red idea ; the
idea of a roaring lion a
roaring idea ; the idea of an
;

a hairy, long-eared, sluggish

ass,
idea, patient of labour,

much addicted to thistles ; that the idea of exten

sion should be extended, and that of solidity solid ,
that a thought of the mind should be endued with
all,
or any, of the oualities of matter,
is, in
and

my judg
Yet Mr
ment, inconceivable and impossible.
HUME takes it for granted; and it is another of his
fundamental maxims. Such is the
credulity of Scep
ticism

If every idea be an exact resemblance of its corres

pondent impression, (or object ; for these terms ac
cording to this author, amount to the same thing*) ;
if the Idea of whiteness be white, of
solidity solid,

and of extenbion extended, as the same author

al

then the idea of a line, the shortest that

lows]- ;
sense can perceive, must be equal in length to the
line itself ; for if shorter, it would be imperceptible ;
and it will not be said, either that an imperceptible
idea can be perceived, or that the idea of an imper
ceptible object can be formed
consequently
the idea of a line a hundred times as long, must be
a hundred times as long as the former idea j for if
shorter, it would be the idea, not of this, but of some
:

And so it clearly follows, nay it

other shorter line.
admits of mathematical demonstration, that the idea
of an inch is really an inch long ; and that of a mile, a
mile long. In a word, every idea of any particular ex
tension is equal in length to the extended object. The
same reasoning holds good in regard to the other di
mensions of breadth and thickness. All ideas, there
fore, of solid objects,must beCaccording to MrHuME s
philosophy)equal in magnitude and solidity to the ob
lam just
jects themselves. Now mark the consequence.
now in an apartment containing a thousand cubic feet,,
* Treatise of
t Ibid, p.

Human

416, 417-

Nature, vol.

1. p. 1, 2,

362.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

l6l

being ten feet square, and ten high ; the door and win
are shut, as well as my eyes and ears. Mr HUME
will allow, that,in this situation, I may form ideas, not
but also of the real
only of the visible appearance,
whole
of
the
house, of a first-rate
magnitude
tangible
man of war, of St Paul s cathedral, or even of a
much larger object. But the solid magnitude of
these ideas is equal to the solid magnitude of the ob
jects from which they are copied therefore I have
now present with me an idea, that is, a solid extend
ed thing, whose dimensions extend to a million of
The question now is, where is
cubic feet at least.

dows

? for a
place it certainly must have,
I should answer, in
and a pretty large one too.
my
mind ; for I know not where else the ideas of my
mind can be so conveniently deposited. Now my
mind is lodged in a body of no extraordinary dimen
sions, and my body is contained in a room ten feet
It seems then, that, into
square and ten feet high.

this thing placed

room, I have it in my power at pleasure to in

troduce a solid object a thousand, or ten thousand,
times larger than the room itself.
I contemplate it
a while, and then, by another volition, send it a pack
ing, to make way for another object of equal or su
perior magnitude.
Nay, in no larger vehicle than a
common post-chaise, I can transport from one end of
the kingdom to the other, a building equal to the

this

largest

a mountain as
big as
of Teneriff.
Take care, ye disciples of
and be very well advised before ye reject this

Egyptian pyramid, and

the peak

HUME,

and incomprehensible.
It is
geometrically deduced from the principles, nay from
the first principles, of your master.
By denying
this, you give his system such a stab as it cannot
survive.

mystery

as impossible

Say, ye candid and intelligent, what are we to ex

pect from a logical and systematic treatise founded
on a supposition, that a part
may be ten or a hundred

thousand times greater than the whole

Shall

we

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

l62

PART

It,

Then it must be inferred by false

expect truth ?
Shall we expect sound reasoning ? Then
reasoning.
Indeed, though
surely the inferences must be false.
I cannot much admire this author s sagacity on the
present occasion, I must confess myself not a little
witch going to sea in
astonished at his courage.
an egg-shell, or preparing to take a trip through the

on a broom-stick, would be a surprising phe

but it is nothing to Mr HUME, on such a
bottom, "launching out ( as he somewhere expresses
it) into the immense depths of philosophy."
To multiply examples for the confutation of so
I there
glaring an absurdity, is really ridiculous.
air

nomenon

"

fore leave

to the reader to determine,

whether, if
and extended ideas be true, ic
will not follow, that the idea of a roaring lion must
emit audible sound, almost, if not altogether, as loud
and as terrible, as the royal beast in person could ex
it

this doctrine of solid

hibit

that

two

ideal bottles of

icate as far at least as

and that
pieces, if I

brandy will intox

two genuine bottles of wine

must be greatly hurt, if not dashed to

am so imprudent, as to form only the idea
I

For has not our

of a bomb bursting under my feet.
and
ideas
author said, that
comprehend
impressions
all the perceptions
(or objects) of the human mind;
that whatsoever, is true of the one must be acknowledged concerning the other ; nay, that they
"

"

"

"

"

"

are in every respect the same, except that the forstrike with more force than the latter

mer

?"

The

absurdity and inconceivableness of the dis

tinction between objects and perceptions is another
of our author s capital doctrines.
Philosophers,"
says he, "have distinguished between objects, and
perception, of the senses; but this distinction is
"

"

"

not comprehended by the generality

Now how
*

are

we

See Treatise of

to

know, whether

Human

The word perception (and

sensation, smelly taste,

Nature, vol.

the same

is

of mankind."*

this distinction,

L p.

353. 365.

true of the

and many others) has,

in

words

common

CHAP.

Air ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

163

be conceived and acknowledged by the generality S

If we put the question to any of them, we shall find
it no
easy matter to make ourselves understood, and,
after all, perhaps be laughed at for our pains. Shall
we reason a. priori about their sentiments and com
but
prehensions ? this is often Mr HUME S method
Will you allow
it is neither philosophical nor fair.
me to reckon myself one of the generality $ Then
I declare, for my own part, that I do comprehend
and acknowledge this distinction, and have done so
;

ever since I was capable of reflection.

when

a child, to have had

remember

my

fingers scorched with

bees
but I never con

burning coals, and stung by

founded the object with the perception ; I never
thought that the pain I felt could either make honey
:

The

or melt lead
equivocal

Then,

instance,

you

say,

is

hope the following

somewhat
is

explicit

enough.
language, two, and sometimes three, distinct significations.
It means, 1. The
Thus v/e speak of the
thing perceived.
taste of a
the smell vl a rose.
2. The power or
fig,
faculty
I have lost
perceiving j as when we say,
my smell by a
severe cold, and therefore my taste is not so
quick as
usual."
3. It sometimes denotes that
impulse or impres
sion which is communicated to the mind
by the external
object operating upon it through the organ of sensation.
Thus we speak of a sweet or bitter taste, a distinct or con
"

"

"

fused, a clear or obscure, sensation or perception.

Most of
our sceptical philosophers have either been
ignorant of, or
inattentive to this distinction
MALEBRANCHE, indeed,
(liv. 1. ch. 10.) seeiris to have had some notion of it j but
either I do not understand this author, or there is a
strange
obscurity and want of precision in almost every thing he
HUME S philosophy does not allow this to be a
says.
rational distinction 5 so that it is
impossible to know pre
cisely what he means by the word perception in this and
I have proved, however, that his as
many other places.
sertion is false, whatever sense
(consistent with coimnon
:

Mr

use)

we

aiTix to

the word.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

164

PART

II.

Suppose me to address the common people in these

I see a strange sight a little
words
way off; but
my sight is weak, so that I see it imperfectly let
me go nearer, that I may have a more distinct
If the generality of mankind be
sight of
at all incapable of distinguishing between the object
"

"

"

"

it."

and the perception, this incapacity wil) doubtless dis

cover itself most, when ambiguous words are used
on purpose to confound their ideas ; but if their ideas
on this subject are not confounded even by ambiguous
language, there is reason to think, that they are ex
Now I have
tremely clear, distinct, and accurate.
here proposed a sentence, in which there is a studied
and yet I maintain, that
ambiguity of language
of
common
sense, who understands
every person
English, will instantly, on hearing these words, per
;

ceive that by the word sight I mean, in the first

clause, the thing seen ; in the second the power, or
perhaps the organ, of seeing ; in the third, the per
ception itself, as distinguished both from the per
cipient faculty, and

To

from the

every person of

visible object*.

common

If one

sense this distinction

is

But as the words

In reality and practice quite familiar.
we use in expressing it are of ambiguous signification, it is
not easy to write about it so as to be immediately under
stood

by every

The

reader.

thing seen or perceived

is

and is believed to exist,

something permanent and extern?!,
whether perceived or not the faculty of seeing or per
in the mind, and is
ceiving is also something permanent
believed to exist whether exerted or not ; but what I here
call the perception itself v& temporary, and is conceived to
have no existence but in the mind that perceives it, and to
*,

no longer than while it is perceived j for in being

essence does consist j so that to be, and
perceived, its very
to be perceived, when predicated of it, do mean precisely
the same thing.
Thus, I just now see this paper, which I
I turn away, or shut my eyes,
call the external object
believe it to exist 5
and then I see it no longer, but I
buried an hundred fathom deep in. the earth, or
exist

still"

though

>

iiHA?.

AN E5SAT ON TRUTH.

If.

l6$

of the multitude, on hearing me pronounce this sen

The sight is not
tence, were to reply as follows ;
w at all
but your
man
horseback
a
on
it
is
strange ;
as you are lately recosight must needs be weak,
vered from sickness however, if you wait a little
"

"

"

"

(<

"

till

the

come
more

man and

horse,

which are aow

in the shade,

into the sunshine, you will then have a much

1 would ask, is
distinct sight of them
:"

of philosophy necessary to
make a man comprehend the meaning of these two
sentences ? Is there any thing absurd or unintelligible
either in the former or in the latter ? Js there any
thing in the reply, that seems to exceed the capacity
of the vulgar, and supposes them to be more acute
than they really are ? If there be not, and am cer
tain there is not, here is an unquestionable proof,
the study of any part

that the vulgar, and indeed all men whom metaphyiic has not deprived of their senses, do distinguish

an uninhabitable island, its existence would be as

real, as if it were eazed at by ten thousand men.
Again,
when I shut ray eyes or tie a bandage over them, or go in
to a dark place, I see no
longer , that is, my faculty of
left in

seeing acts, or
to remain in

acted upon, no longer

but I still believe

be acted upon,
whenever it is again placed in the proper circumstances ;
for nobody supposes, that by
shutting our eyes, or going
into a d-^rk place, we annihilate our
faculty of seeing. But

it

is

my

mind, ready to

act, or to

thirdly, m.y perception of this paper is no permanent thing

tier has it
any existence, but while it is perceived : nor
cces it at all exist but in the mind that perceives it ; I can
-.

put
ting

an,

end

my

to, or annihilate it, whenever 1 please,

and I can at pleasure renexv it
$

eyes

by shut
by o-

again

them. It is really astonishing, that so many of

our modern philosophers should have overlooked a distincticn, which is of so great importance, that if we were un
acquainted with it, a great part of human language would
seem to be perfect nonsense. Such ?.n oversight would be
petiing

in a dictionary -maker ; but, I know not ho\v

some of our philosophers have been admired and cele
brated for their acumen in committing it.

unpardonable

it is,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH*

PART

II.

between the object perceived, the

faculty perceiving
and the perception or impulse communicated
by the
external object to the mind
through the organ of sensation.
What though all the three are sometimes
expressed by the same name ? This only shows,
that

accuracy of language is not always necessary for

answering the common purposes of life. If the ideas
of the vulgar are
sufficiently distinct, notwithstand
ing, what shall we say of that philosopher, whose
ideas are really confounded by this
inaccuracy, and
who, because there is no difference in the
isigns,

inagines that there is none in the things signified

That the understanding of such a philosopher is not a
vulgar one, will be readily allowed ; whether it ex
!

ceeds, or falls short, let the reader determine.*

*

Mr HUME

not always consistent with himself in

is

affirming, that the vulgar do not comprehend the distinc

tion between perceptions and objects.
It is not," he
"

says, vol.

"

1.

p. 337,
by arguments, that children, peasants, and the greatest part of mankind, are induced to
44
attribute objects to some impressions, and deny them to
it seems the
others."
So
greatest part of mankind do
acknowledge a distinction between objects and perceptions,
"

"

"

"

accordingly we find, that all the conclusions which the

vulgar form on this head, are directly contrary to those
which are confirmed by philosophy." The more shame

For philosophy informs us,

say I.
which appears to the mind, is nothing
but a perception, and is interrupted, and dependent on the
mind ? whereas the vulgar confound perceptions and ob-

to that philosophy
that every thing

"

"

**

"

*
jects,"

from the

that

is, I

latter.

suppose, do not distinguish the former

in the last sentence it was said,

How

mankind do distinguish between

are a species of perceptions) and ob
attribute a distinct continued existence to

that the greatest part of

impressions (which
"

jects,

and

the very things they feel or see."

So, now again the
a distinct continued existence j that is, are
have
objects
44

something different from perceptions, which every body

knows have no continued existence. Here Mr HUME,
within the compass of half a page, contradicts himself, and

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

This author

method of investigation

is

no

less

extraordinary than his fundamental principles. There

are many notions in the human mind, of which it is
If you can
not easy perhaps to explain the origin.
describe in words what were the circumstances in
which you received an impression of any particular
notion, it is well ; Mr HUME will allow that you
may form an idea of it. But if you cannot do this,
then says he, there is no such notion in your minds,
for all perceptions are either impressions or ideas ;
and it is not possible for us so much as to conceive

any thing

and im

specifically different from ideas

now all ideas are copied from

pressions
therefore
sions
:

impres

you can have no idea nor concep

tion of any thing of which you have not received an
All mankind have a notion of
impression.
power
:

of energy.
No says Mr HUME ; an impression of
or energy was never received
by any man, and
therefore an idea of it can never be formed in the

power

human mind. If you insist on your experience and

consciousness of power, it is all a mistake
his hy
:

pothesis
contradicts that contradiction, and
finally acquiesces in the
first contradiction.
To hunt such a writer
through so
many shiftings and doublings, is not worth the reader s

while nor mine.

I hope we both know how to
employ
our time to better purpose.
How often our author may
affirm and deny,

and deny and

affirm, this doctrine, in the

coarse of his work, I neither know nor care it

tain, that, upon the whole, he holds the distinction
:

is

cer

between

objects

and perceptions to be unreasonable

338.) mi~
(ibid.), and unsupported by the evidence
of
("p.

philosophical,

sense, (p. 330.

337.)
tion, as we have explained

And

indeed,

when

this distinc

it, is

acknowledged, and attend

ed to, all BERKELEY S pretended demonstration of
the nonexistence of matter, and all HUME S
reasonings against the
existence both of matter and
spirit, appear to be no better,
than a play upon words.
For this
key unlocks that whole
mystery of sophism and quibble.
Treatise of

Human

Nature, vol.

1, p.

123,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

168

PART

ir.

pothesis admits not the idea of power, and therefore

there is no such idea *.
AH mankind have an idea,
of self.
That I deny, says Mr HUME I maintain-,
that no man ever had, or can have, an impression of
self ; and therefore no man can form
any idea of it f.
If you persist, and say, that
certainly you have some
notion or idea of yourself: My dear Sir, he would
;

say,

you do not

consider, that this assertion

contra

hypothesis of impressions and ideas ; how

then is it possible it should be true
This, it seems,
is experimental
reasoning
But though Mr HUME denj^, that I have any no
tion of self, surely he does not mean to affirm, that
I do not exist, or that I have no notion of myself as
an existent being.
In truth, it is not easy to say
dicts

my

what he means on this subject. Most philosophical

subjects become obscure in the hands of this author
;

for he has a notable talent at puzzling his readers and

himself: but when he treats of consciousness, of per

sonal identity, and of the nature of the soul, he ex

presses himself so strangely, that his words either
The
have no meaning, or imply a contradiction.
"

"

"

question,"
"

the soul

is

think so, you

be neither.
*

4<

"

says he,

concerning the substance of

Well,

unintelligible J."
may let it alone.
"

What we

No

call a

mind,

if you
must not

Sir,

that
is

nothing but

heap or collection of different perceptions (or

certain relations, and
objects) united together by
supposed, though falsely, to be endowed with pera

If any one, upon

feet simplicity and identity
serious and unprejudiced reflection, thinks he has
a different notion of himself, I must confess 1 can
All 1 can allow him
reason with him no longer.
.

||

ci
Ci
*(
*

"

is

may be in the right as well as I, and that

He
are essentially different in this particular.

that he

we

* Treatise of Human
Nature, vol. 1. p. 282.
J Ibid. p. 434. 435.
t Ibid. p. 437. 4S8.
Ibid. p. 361, 362,
!i

CHAP.
i(

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH,

IT.

perhaps perceive something simple and con-

may

tinued, which he calls himself \ though I am cerBut setting

tain there is no such principle in me.
that is,
aside some metaphysicians of this kind,"
who feel and believe, that they have a soul,

"

"

"

"

"

"

*
"

"

"

"

"

I may venture to affirm of the rest of mankind,

that they are nothing but a bundle or collection of

which succeed each other with

inconceivable rapidity, and are in a perpetual flux

different perceptions,

There is properly no simplicione time, nor identity in different

natural propension we may have
(times^), whatever
to imagine that simplicity and identity.
They are
and movement
ty in the

mind

at

the successive perceptions only that constitute the

mind

*."

words have any meaning,, it is this

soul (or rather that which I call my soul) is not one
simple thing, ncr is it the same thing to-day it was
yesterday^ nay, it is not the same this moment it
If these

My

was the

last ; it is nothing but a mass, collection,,

or
bundle, of different perceptions, or objects,
heap,
-that fleet away in succession,, with inconceivable ra

pidity, perpetually changing,, and perpetually in meThere may be some metaphysicians to whose
tion.

souls this description cannot be applied ; but I (Mr

HUME) am certain, that this is a true and complete
description of my soul, and of the soul of every other
individual of the human race, those few

metaphysi

cians excepted.
4

That body has no existence, but

whose existence consists

perceptions,

as a bundle of
in their

being
He now
along maintains.
affirms, that the soul, in like manner, is a bundle of,

perceived, our author

all

It follows, then, that

perceptions, and nothing else.
there is nothing in the universe but impressions and

possible perceptions being by our author

comprehended in those two classes. This

ideas

all

philosophy

Treatise of

Human

Nature, vol.

1. p,

438, 439, 440.

AN ESSAt ON TRUTH*

PART

II.

admits of no other existence whatsoever, nor even of

a percipient being to perceive these perceptions. So
that we arc now arrived at the height of human

wisdom

at that intellectual eminence, from whence

;
there is a full prospect of all that we can reasonably
believe to exist, and of all that can possibly become
the object of our knowledge.
Alas I what is be
come of the magnificence of external nature, and the
wonders of intellectual energy, the immortal beauties
of truth and virtue, and the triumphs of a good con
Where now the warmth of benevolence,
science
the fire of generosity, the exultations of hope, the
tranquil ecstasy of devotion, and the pang of sympa
!

All, around, above, and beneath, is one

vast vacuit}^, or rather an enormous chaos, encom
thetic delight

passed with darkness universally and eternally im

Body and spirit are utterly annihilated ;
penetrable.
and there remains nothing (for we must again descend
into the gibberish of metaphysic) but a vast collec
tion, bundle, mass, or heap, of unperceived percep
tions.

Such,

if

Mr HUME

words have any meaning,

is

And what is this result ?

the result of his system.
If he, or his admirers, can prove, that there is a pos
it in words which do not
imply
sibility of expressing
If he or
a contradiction, I will not call it nonsense.
they can prove, that it is compatible with any one
acknowledged truth in philosophy, in morals, in re
ligion natural or revealed, I will not call it impious.
If he or they can prove, that it does not arise from
facts misrepresented, and common words mis
understood, I shall admit that it may have arisen from
accurate observation, candid and liberal inquiry, per
fect knowledge of human nature, and the enlarged
views of true philosophic genius.

common

AK

CHAP. H.

ESSAY ON TRt7TH.

SECT.
Of the

7*

II.

Non-existence of Matter.

TN the

preceding section I have taken a slight survey of the principles, and method of investiga
tion, adopted by the most celebrated promoters of
modern scepticism. And it appears that they have
**

not attended to the distinction of reason and common

this Essay,
sense, as explained in the first part
and as acknowledged by mathematicians and natural
of"

Erroneous, absurd, and self-contra

philosophers.
And
dictory notions, have been the consequence.
now, by entering into a more particular detail, we
might easily shew, tnat many of those absurdities
thatdisgrace the philosophy of human nature, would
never have existed, if men had acknowledged and
attended to this distinction; regulating their enqui
ries by the criterion above-mentioned, and never
prosecuting any chain of argument beyond the self-

We

evident principles of common sense.

shall con
ourselves to two instances one of which is con
nected with the evidence of external sense, and the
other with that of internal.
That matter or body has a real, separate, inde
*
that there is a real sun above
;
pendent existence
us, a real air around us, and a real earth under
our feet ; has been the belief of all men who were
not mad, ever since the creation.
This is believed,
not because it is or can be proved by argument, but
because the constitution of our nature is such that
we must believe it. There is here the same ground
of belief,, that there is in the following propositions :
fine

*
By independent existence^ we mean an existence that
does not depend on us, nor so far as \\e knoxv, on any be
BERKELEY, and others, say,,
ing, except the Creator.
that matter exists not but in the minds that perceive it \
1

and consequently depends, in respect of

upon those minds.

its

existence^

Atf

I exist

whatever

ESSAY
is,

is

or; Thffffc.

PAST

two and two make

i*.

four.

It is

absurd, nay, it is impossible, to believe the

I could as easily believe, that I do not
contrary.
exist, that two and two are equal to ten, that what
ever is, is not j as that I have neither hands, nor
feet, nor head, nor clothes, nor house, nor country,
nor acquaintance ; that the sun, moon, and stars,
ocean, and tempest, thunder, and lightning, moun
tains, rivers, and cities, have no existence but as
ideas or thoughts in my mind, and, independent on

me and my faculties, do not exist at all, and could

not exist if I were to be annihilated ; that fire, and
burning, and pain, which I feel, and the recollec
tion of pain that is past, and the idea of pain
xvhich I never felt, are all in the same sense
ideas or perceptions in my mind, and nothing
else ; that the qualities of matter are not qualities of
matter, but affections of spirit ; and that I have no
evidence that any being exists in nature but myself.
Philosophers may say what they please ; and the
world, who are apt enough to admire what is mon
strous, may give them credit ; but I afHrm, that
it is not in the power, either of wit or of madness, to
contrive any conceit more inconsistent, more absurd,
or more nonsensical, than this, That the material
world has no existence but in my mind.
DES CARTES admits, that every person must be
persuaded of the existence of a material world but
he does not allow this point to be self-evident, or so
:

certain as not to admit of doubt; because, says he,

we find in experience, that our senses are sometimes
in an error, and because, in dreams we often mis
He
take ideas for external things really existing.
therefore begins his philosophy of bodies with a for
mal proof of the existence of body *.
But however imperfect, and however fallacious,
we acknowledge our senses to be in other matters, it
is certain, that no- man ever thought them fallacious

* Cartesii
Principia, part

1.

4. part 2.

1,

C.UAP.

If.

AN ESSAY OK TRUTH.body nay, every man

by the law of his nature, convin

in regard to the existence of

of a sound mind,

is,

they are not, and

Men have sometimes been de
cannot be mistaken.
ceived by sophistical arguraent, because the human
understanding is in some, and indeed in many, re
but does it follow, that we cannot,
spects fallible
without proof, be -certain of any thing, not even of
our own existence, nor of the truth of a geometrical
ced, that, in this respect at least,

-,

?
Some diseases are so fatal to the mind, as
to confound mens notions even of their own i^-r ci
ty ; but does it follow, that I cannot be certain of

axiom

my

being the same person to-day I \va* yes.eraav,

and twenty years ago, till I have firs: proved this
point by argument r And because we are sometimes
deceived by our senses, does it therefore follow, that
wenever areceitainof ournot being deceived by them,
till we have first convinced ourselves
by reascnir.g,
that they are not deceitful ?
If a Caitesian can
prove, that there have been a few persons of sound
understanding, who from a conviction of the de-

have really disbelieved,

seriously doubteu, the existence of a material
world, I shall allow a conviction of this deceitfulness to be a sufficient ground for such doubt or dis
ceitfulness of their senses,

or

belief, in one or a few instances ; and if lie can prove

that such doubt or disbelief has at any time been ge
neral among mankind, I shall allow that it may pos
but if it be certain, as I think it
sibly be so again ;

that no man of a sound mind, however suspi

cious of the veracity of his senses, ( ver did or could
really disbelieve, or seriously doubt, the existence
of a material world, then is this point self-evident,

is,

and a principle of common sense, even on the sup

position that o^r senses are as deceitful as Djfc -s
C- RTES and MALEBRAJJCHE chuse to represent
them. But we have formerly proved, that our sen-,
ses are never supposed to be deceitful, except whea
we are conscious^ that our excellence is pan.ial, or

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

174

PART

If.

cur observation inaccurate ; and that even then, the

fallacy is detected, and rectified, only by the evi
dence of sense placed in circumstances more favour
able to accurate observation.
In regard to the ex
istence of matter, there cannot possibly be a suspi
cion, that our observation is inaccurate, or our ex
perience partial ; and therefore it is not possible,
that ever we should distrust our senses in this par
If it were possible, our distrust could ne
ticular.
ver be removed either by reasoning or by expe
rience.

As

to the suspicion against the existence

of

mat

supposed to arise from our experience of

the delusions of dreaming ; we observe, in the first
place, that if this be allowed a sufficient ground for
suspecting, that our waking perceptions are equally
delusive, there is at once an end of all truth, rea
That I am at present
soning,, and common sense.
awake, and not asleep, I certainly know but I canfor there is no criterion for distin
riot prove it
ter that

is

guishing dreaming fancies from waking perceptions,

evident, th*n that I am now awake, which is
the point in question ; and, as we have often remark
ed, it is essential to every proof, to be more evident
than that which is to be proved. That I am now awake, must therefore carry its ow n evidence along
with it ; if it be evident at all, it must be self-evi
dent.
And so it is we may mistake dreams for
realities, but no rational being ever mistook a reali
Had we the command of our un
ty for a dream.
and
memory in sleep, we should pro
derstanding
that the appearances of our dreams
be
sensible,
bably
are all delusive
which, in fact is sometimes the
case ; at least I have sometimes been conscious, that
dream was a dream ; and when it was disagreea

more

my

ble,

have actually made

efforts

But

to

awake myself,

a wonderful
we seem
Sometimes
all our faculties.
over
power
to have lost our moral faculty j as when we dream

which have succeeded.

sleep has

CHAP.

II.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

175

of doing that, without scruple or remorse, which

when awake we could not bear to think of.

Sometimes memory is extinguished as when we

dream of conversing with our departed friends,
without remembering any thing of their death, tho*
it was, perhaps, one of the most striking incidents!
;

we had ever experienced, and is seldom or never out

Sometimes
of our thoughts when we are awake.
our understanding seems to have quite forsaken us ;
as when we dream of talking with a dead friend, re
membering at the same time that he is dead, but
without being conscious of any thing absurd or unu
sual in the circumstance of conversing with a dead
man. Considering these and the other effects of
sleep upon the mind, we need not be surprised, that
it should cause us to mistake our own ideas for real
things, and be affected with those in the same man
But the moment we awake, and
ner as with these.
recover the use of our faculties, we are sensible that
the dream was a delusion, and that the objects which
now solicit our notice are real. To demand a rea
son for the implicit confidence we repose in our waking perceptions ; or to desire us to prove, that
things are as they appear to our waking senses, and
not as they appear to us in sleep, is as unreasonable
as to demand a reason for our belief in our own ex
in both cases our belief is
istence
necessary and
unavoidable, the result of a law of nature, and what
we cannot in practice contradict, but to our shame
and perdition.
If the delusions of dreaming furnish
any reasona
ble p-retence for doubting the authenticity of our
waking perceptions, they may, with equal reason,
make me doubtful of my own identity for I have
often dreamed that I was a person different from what
:

am

;
nay, that I was two or more distinct persons
one and the same time.
Further: If DES CARTES thought an argument
nece.sary to convince him, tr.at his p rception of the

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

176

PART

II.

external world was not imaginary, but real, I would

ask, how he could know that his argument was real,
and not imaginary. How could he know that he
was awake, and not asleep, when he wrote his prin
ciples of philosophy, if his waking thoughts did not,

previous to all reasoning, carry along with them un

deniable evidence of their reality ?
/ am awake, is
a principle which he must have taken for granted,
even before he could satisfy himself of the truth of
what he thought the first of all principles, Cogito,
To all which we may add, that if there
ergo sum*
be any persons in the world who never dream at
all *, ("and some such I think there are^), and whose
belief ift the existence of a material world is not a
whit stronger than that of those whose sleep is al
ways attended with dreaming ; this is a proof from
experience, that the delusions of sleep do not in the
least affect our conviction of the authenticity of the
perceptions we receive, and of the faculties we ex

when awake.
The first part of DES CARTES argument

ert,

would prove the

we perceive in dreams

existence of bodies,

for the

reality of the
for they, as
;

visionary ideas
well as bodies, present themselves to us, indepen
But the principal part of his ar
dent on our wilL
is founded in the veracity of God, which
gument
he had before inferred from our consciousness of the
idea of an infinitely perfect, independent, and neces
Our senses inform us of the
sarily-existent being.

**
"

"

"

44

Mr

who was
once knew a man," says
LOCKE,
bred a scholar, snd had no bad memory, who told me,
that he had never dreamed in his life, till he had that
fever he was then newly recovered of, \\Jiich was about
"

the five or

world

si x_

affords

and twentieth year of his age.

more such instahces."

Essay on

Human

A young gentleman of
at all, except

when

"

I suppose the

Understanding, book 2. ch. 1.

m^

his health

acquaintance never dreams

is

disordered.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

It.

177

this information in

existence of body ; they give us

the divine will
consequence of a law established by
but God is no deceiver ; therefore is their informa
tion true. I have formerly given my opinion of this
it is a
sophism, as the
argument, and shewn that
must believe our faculties to
author states it.
:

We

be true, before

we

be convinced, either by

can

If we refuse to be
proof, or by intuitive evidence.
lieve in our faculties, till their veracity be first ascertained by reasoning, we shall never believe in

them

at all *.

says, that men are more certain

of the existence of God, than of the existence of bo
He allows, that DES CARTES has proved the
dy.
existence of body by the strongest arguments that
reason alone could furnish ; nay, he seems to ac
knowledge those arguments to be unexceptionable
yet he does not admit, that they amount to a full
In phi
demonstration of the existence of matter.
we
to
maintain
our
he,
says
ought
liberty
losophy,
as long as we-- can, and to believe nothing but what
To be fully con
evidence compels us to believe.
vinced of the existence of bodies, it is necessary that
we have it demonstrated to us, not only that there
is a God, and that he is no deceiver, but also that
God hath assured us, that he has actually created
such bodies ; and this, says he, I do not fiad proved
in the works of M. DES CARTES.

MALEBRANCHE f

There

ways

in

are,

(or obliges)

it

MALEBRANCHE, but two

according to

which God speaks

to believe

to the

to wit,

mind, and compels

by evidence, and

See the preceding section.

la verlte, torn. 3. p. 30.

Recherche dc

Paris,

chez

Pralard, 1679.
ait donne les preuI Mais quoique M. DES CARTES
ves le plus fortes que la raison toute seule
puisse fournir
pour Pexistence des corps j quoiqu il soit evident, que

Dieu

ft

est point

trompeur,

et

qu on

puisse

dire

qu

il

nous

AN ESSAY CN TRUTH.

178

PART

IT.

the faith.
The faith obliges us to believe
that bodies exist; but as to the evidence of this
and it is also
truth, it certainly is not complete
certain, that we are not invincibly determined to
"

by
"

"

"

"

believe,
41
"

4t
"

<(

"

"

*<

"

"-

that

own mind.

exists, but God, and o, r

true, that we have an extreme
believe, that we are surrounded

any thing

Jt is

propensity to
with corporeal beings ; so far I agree with M.
BES CARTES: but this propensity, natural as it
is, doth not force our belief by evidence; it only
inclines us to believe by impression.
Now we
ought not to be determined, in our free judgments,
by any thing but light and evidence ; if we suffer ourselves to be guided by the sensible impressicn, we shall be almost always mistaken
*."

trompeiGitefFectivemenl,sruous nous trompions nous-memes

faisant 1 usage que nous devons faire de notre esprit, et
des autres facultez dont il est 1 auteur ; cependant on peut
qvie Texistence de la raatiere ne st point encore parfaitement demontree.
Car, enfin, en matiere d philoso
/
phic, nous ne devons croire quoique ce soit, que Icrsqiie
evidence nous y oblige. Nous devons faire usage de notre
dire

liberte*

Pour

autant que nous le pouvons.

etre pleine-

ment convaincus qu il a des corps, il faut qu on nous demontre, non seulement qu il y a un Dieu, et que Dieu n
trompeur, mais encore que Dieu, nous a assure
ce que je ne trouve point
en a efFectivement crte
prouve dans les cuvrages de M. DES CARTES.
est point

qu

il

Tom.

3.

p. 37, 38. 39.

Dieu ne parle a 1 esprit, et ne 1 oblige a croire qu e n

Je demeure
deux manieres par Pevidence, et par la
d accord, que la foi oblige a croire qu il y. a des corps j majs pour T evidence, il est certain, cu elle n est point entiere
et que nous, ne sommes point invinciblement portez a cro
*

foi."

ire

qu

il

ait

quelqu autre chose que Dieu

et

notre esprit.

ti croire
vray, que nous avons un penchant extreme
1 accorde a
Je
environnent.
nous
il y a des
corps qui
qu
M. DES CARTES mais ce penchant, tout naturel. qu il

II est

est,

ne nous y force point par evidence

il

nous y incline

CHAP.

Our
of

AN ESSAY ON TROTS.

II.

author, then proposes, in brief, the substance

argument against the existence of body

that

which BERKELEY afterwards took such pains to il

and discovers, upon the whole, that, as a
lustrate
is but
point of philosophy the existence of matter
a probability, to which we have it in onr power either
;

Li a
not to assent, as we please.
we
thut
and
not
the
faith,
word,
by evidence,
by
become certain of this truth.
This is not a proper place for analysing the pasit would be easy to
cage above quoted, otherwise
show, that the doctrine (such as it is) which the
to

assent,

or

it is

author here delivers, is not reconcileable with, other

But I only mean to observe,
parts of his system.
that what is here asserted of our belief in the exis
tence of body being not necessary, but such as we
may with-hold if we please, is contrary to my ex
That my body, and this pen and paper,
perience.
and the other corporeal objects around me, do realJy exist, is to me as evident, as that my soul exists ;
it is indeed so evident, that nothing is
or can be
more so ; and though my life depended upon the

consequence, I could not, by any effort, bring myselt

to entertain a doubt of it, even for a single moment.
I

must

ter can

therefore affirm, that the existence of

mat

no more be disproved by argument, than the

existence of myself, or than the truth of a self-evi

To argue against it, is to
dent axiom in geometry.
set reason in opposition to

common

sense

which

is

seulement par impression.

Or nouns ne devons suivre
dans nos jugemens libres que la lumiere et Pevidence j et
si nous nous laissons conduire a
Pimpression sensible, nous
nous tromperons presque toujours. Tom.
39.
Lafoi I
translate Thefoith, because I suppose the author to mean
the Christian or Catholic faith.
If \ve take it to denote
faith or be/iff in general, I know not how we shall ir.ake
3./>.

any sense of the passage.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

l8o

PART

II.

indirectly to subvert the foundation of all just rea

soning, and to call in question the distinction between
are told, however, that a
truth and falsehood.

We

great philosopher has actually demonstrated, that

matter does not exist.
Demonstrated truly this is
a piece of strange information.
At this rate, any
falsehood may be proved to be true, and any truth
For it is impossible, that any truth
to be false.
should be more evident to me than this, that matter
Let us see, however, what BERKELEY
does exist.
has to say in behalf of this extraordinary doctrine.
Jt is natural for demonstration, and for all sound rea
soning, to produce conviction, or at least some de
gree of assent, in the person who attends to it, and
I read The Principles of Human
understands it.
!

Knowledge, together with The Dialogues between

Hylas and Philonous. The arguments I confess, are
subtle, and well adapted to the purpose of puzzling
and confounding. Perhaps I will not undertake to
confute them.
Perhaps I am busy, or indolent, or
with
the principles of this philosophy,
unacquainted
But am
or little versed in your metaphysical logic.
1 convinced, from this pretended demonstration, that
matter has no existence but as an. idea in the mind ?

Not

now

precisely the
to be con
not
unphilosophical,
vinced by arguments which I am not able to con
fute ? Perhaps it. rnay, but I cannot help it you
off the list of philoso
raay, if you please strike me
me unplianr,
a
non-conformist
as
; you may call
phers,
unreasonable, unfashionable, and a man with whoir*
but till the frame of
it is not worth while to argue
nature be unhinged, and a new set of faculties

same

in"

the least

as before.

Is

uvy belief

is

it

my

given me, I cannot believe this strange doctrine, be

But if I were per
cause it is perfectly incredible.
mitted to propose one clownish question, I would
fain ask, Where is the harm of
continuing in
old opinion, and believing, with the rest of the world-,
that I am not the only created being in the universe,

my

my

CHAP.

II.

AN

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

but that there are many others, whose existence is as?

is on them ? Where is
independent on me, as mine
the harm of my believing, that if I were to fall down
and break my neck, I should be no
yonder precipice,
more a man of this world ? My neck, Sir, may be an
idea to you, but to me it is a reality, and an impor
Where is the harm of my believing,
tant one too.
that

if

in this severe weather, I wr ere to neglect to

call) the idea of a, coat over the:

throw (what you

ideas of my shoulders, the idea of cold would pro

duce the idea of such pain and disorder as might pos
sibly terminate in my real death ? What great of
fence shall I commit against God or man, church or
state, philosophy or common sense, if I continue to
believe, that material food will nourish me, thoughthe idea of it will not ; that the real sun will warm
and enlighten me, though the liveliest idea of him
will do neither ; and that, if I would obtain true peace
of mind and self approbation, I must not only form*
ideas of compassion, justice, and generosity, but al

so really exert those virtues in external performance ?

is there in all this ?
no harm at all,,
the truth,
the truth,
but
will you shut
Sir ;
?
the
truth
honest
No
man ever
your eyes against
will: convince me that your doctrine is true, and I
will instantly embrace it.-r-Havel not convinced thee^

What harm

thou obstinate, unaccountable, inexorable? An

swer ray arguments, if thou canst.
Alas, Sir, you
have given me arguments in abundance, but you have
not given me conviction ? and if your arguments pro
duce no conviction, they are worth nothing, to me.

They are like -counterfeit bank-bills ; some of which?

are so dexterously forged, that neither your eye nor
mine can detect them ; yet a thousand of them would,
go for nothing at the bank ; and even the papermaker would allow me more handsomely for

You

old rags e

need not give yourself the trouble to tell me r

that I ought to be convinced : I ought to be convinced:
only when I feel conviction j when I feel.no convic~<

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

182

PART

II.

It has been ob
tion, I ought not to be convinced.
served of some doctrines and reasonings, that their

extreme absurdity prevents their admitting a rational

confutation.
What am I to believe such doctrine ?
am 1 to be convinced by such reasoning ? Now, I
never heard of any doctrine more scandalously ab
surd, than this of the non-existence of matter. There
is not a fiction in the Persian tales that I could not
!

; the silliest conceit of the most con

temptible superstition that ever disgraced human na
ture, is not more shocking to common sense, is not

as easily believe

more repugnant

to every principle of human belief.

this jargon for truth, because I
cannot confute the arguments of a man who is a more

And must

admit

subtle disputant than I? Does philosophy require

this of me ? Then it must suppose, that truth is a5
variable as the fancies, the characters, and the in
tellectual abilities of men, and that there is no such

thing in nature as

But

common

all this, 1 shall

sense.

perhaps be

told, is

but child

What if,
ish cavil, and unphilosophical declamation.
after all this very doctrine be believed, and the so
phistry (as you call it) of BERKELEY be admitted as
sound reasoning, and legitimate proof? What then
becomes of your common sense, and your instinctive
What then, do you ask ? Then indeed
convictions ?
I acknowledge the fact to be very extraordinary ;
and I cannot help being in some pain about the con
If a
sequences, which must be important and fatal.
man, out of vanity, or from a desire of being in the fa
shion, or in order to pass for wonderfully wise, shall
is true, while at the
say, that BERKELEY S doctrine
same time his belief is precisely the same with mine
it is well ; I leave him to enjoy the fruits of his hy
contribute mightily to
pocrisy, which will no doubt
candour, happiness, and wisdom.
like other men
not believe his
in
this doctrine, by reFor
be
sincere.
to
profession

his

improvement

in

man professing this doctrine act

the common affairs of life, I will

If a

CHAP.

II.

AN

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

185

moving body out of the universe, makes a total

change in the circumstances of men ; and therefore
not merely verbal,

if it is

in their conduct.

must produce a total change

a man is only turned out

When

of his house, or stripped of his clothes, or robbed of

his

behaviour, and act

money, he must change
from other men, who enjoy these advanta
"his

differently

Persuade a man that he

is a
beggar and a va
and
shall instantly see him change his
you
gabond,
If your arguments against the existence of
manners.
matter have ever carried conviction along with them,
they must at the same time have produced a much
more extraordinary change of conduct ; but if they
have produced no change of conduct, I insist on it,
they have never carried conviction along with them,

ges.

whatever vehemence of protestation men may have

used in avowing such conviction.
If you say, that
though a man s understanding be convinced, there
are certain instincts in his nature that will not per
mit him to alter his conduct or, if he did, the rest
of the world would account him a mad-man ; by the
first apology, you allow the belief of the non-exis
tence of body to be inconsistent with the laws of
nature by the second, to be inconsistent with com
;

mon

sense.

man be convinced, that matter has no ex

and believe this strange tenet as steadily, and
with as little distrust, as I believe the contrary ; he
will, I am afraid, have but little reason to applaud
himself oft this new acquisition in science ; he will
soon find, it had been better for him to have reasoned,
and believed, and acted, like the rest of the world.
If he fall down a precipice, or be trampled under
foot by horses, it will avail him little, that he once
had the honour to be a disciple of BERKELEY, and to
believe that those dangerous objects are
nothing but
ideas in the mind.
And yet, if such a man be seen
to avoid a precipice, or to get out of the way of a
coach and six horses at full speed, he acts as in con-..
Bat

if a

istence,

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

184

PART

II.

sistentlj \vith his belief, as if

he ran away from the

picture of an angry man, even while he believed it
to be a picture.
Supposing his life preserved by
the care of friends, or by the strength of natural in
urging him to act contrary to his belief

stinct

will

this

belief cost

Him

dear.

yet

For

if the plainest
certainly fallaci

evidence, and fullest conviction, be

ous, I beg to be informed, what kind of evidence,
and what degree of conviction, may reasonably be
If nature be a
depended on.
juggler by trade, is it
for us, poor purblind reptiles, to attempt to pene
trate the mysteries of her art, and take
upon us to

when

she presents a true, and when a

not say, however, that this
appearance
man runs a greater risk of universal scepticism, than
of universal credulity.
Either the one or the other,
or both, must be his portion ; and either the one or
the other would be sufficient to imbitter my whole
life, and to disqualify me for every duty of a ration

decide,
false

is

it

I will

creature.
He who can believe against common
sense, and against the clearest evidence, and against
the fullest conviction, in any one case, may do the
same in any other ; consequently he may become the

al

dupe of every wrangler who is more acute than he ;

and then, if he is not entirely secluded from mankind,
his liberty, and happiness, are gone for ever. Indeed
a chearful temper, strong habits of virtue, and the

and good, may still save him

have
no temptations nor diffi
he
perdition,
But it is the end of every use
culties to encounter.
ful art, to teach us to surmount, difficulties, not to
Men have been
disqualify us for attempting them.

company of

from

the

w ise
r

if

to live many years in a warm chamber, after

they were become too delicate to bear the open air ;
but who will say, that such a habit of body is de

known

?
what physician will recommend to the
healthy such a regimen as would produce it ?
But, that I may no longer suppose, what I main
tain to be impossible, that mankind in general, or

sirable

CHAP.

AN ESSAY

II.

Otf

TRUTH.

85

even one rational being, could, by force of argument,

be convinced, that this absurd doctrine is true
what if all men were in one instant deprived of their
understanding by Almighty power, and made to believe, that matter has no existence but as an idea in
;

the mind, all other earthly things remaining as they

Doubtless this catastrophe would, according
are ?
to our metaphysicians, throw a wonderful light on
I pretend not even to
all the parts of knowledge.
or quality, of astoni
at
the
number,
extent,
guess
shing discoveries that would then start forth into
view. But of this I am certain, that in less than a
month after, there could not, without another miracle,
be one human creature alive on the face of the earth.
BERKELEY foresaw, and has done" what he could
There are two
to obviate, some of these objections.
has
which
he
taken
great pains o prove. The
points
first is, That his system differs not from the belief
of the rest of mankind ; the second, That our con
duct cannot be in the least affected by our disbelief
of the existence of a material world.
i. As to the first, it is certainly false. Mr HUME
1 have known
himself seems willing to give it up.
many who could not answer BERKELEY S arguments ;
I never knew one who believed his doctrine. I have
mentioned it to some who were unacquainted with
philosophy, and therefore could not be supposed to
have any bias in favour of either system
they all
treated it as most contemptible jargon, and what no
man in his senses ever did or could believe. I have
;

carefully attended to the effects produced

my own
as

when

mind

I first

by

it

upon

and it appears to me at this moment,

heard it, incredible and incomprehen

sible. I say

for though, by read

incomprehensible
and
over
have
I
over,
ing
got a set of phrases and
arguments by heart, which would enable me, if I
were so disposed, to talk, and argue, and write,
about it and about it
yet, when I lay systems and
:

it

"

5"

syllogisms aside,

when

enter on any part of the

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

186

PART

rr.

business of life, or when I refer the matter to the

unbiassed decision of my own mind, 1 plainly see, that
I had no distinct meaning to my words when I said,
that the material world has no existence but in thec
mind that perceives it. In a word, if this author had
asserted, that I and

mankind acknowledge and

all

believe the Arabian Nights Entertaiment to be a

true history, I could not have had any better reason

That Bj-:RKELtY s principles in retradicting this,

gard to the existence of matter, differ not from the
belief of the rest of mankind.
"

"

"

"

In behalf of the second point he argues,

That
an
us
in
interest
the
material
world,
gives
nothing
except the feelings pleasant or painful which accompany our perceptions ; that these perceptions
2.

"

"

"

"

"

"

(<

"

"

"

"

the same, whether we believe the material

world to exist or not to exist ; consequently, that
our pleasant or painful feelings are also the same ;
and therefore, that our conduct, which depends on
our feelings and perceptions, must be the same,
whether we believe -or disbelieve the existence of
are

matter."

But

we

if it

be certain, that by the law of our nature

are unavoidably determined to believe that

ter exists,
I think, is

and

to act

more

upon

this belief,

how

certain^),

that a contrary belief

it

(and nothing,
be imagined,

Would produce no

trifles,

alteration in

Surely tVe laws of na

as that it should be a mat

our conduct and sentiments

ture are not such

can

mat

ter of perfect indifference, whether we act and think

agreeably to them or not ? I believe that matter ex
I must
I must believe that matter exists ;
;
continually act upon this belief; such is the law of
constitution.
Suppose my constitution changed
in this respect, all other things remaining as they
ists

my

are

would

there- then be

no change

in

my

senti

ments and conduct ? If there would not, then is this

law of nature, in the first place, useless, because
inen could do as well without it 4 secondly, in-

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

187

convenient, because its end is to keep us ignorant

of the truth ; and, thirdly, absurd, because insuf
ficient for answering its end, the Bishop of Cloyne,
and others, having, it seems, discovered the truth
Is this according to the usual econo
in spite of it.
?
Does this language become her
Nature
of
my
Is it possible to devise
servants and interpreters ?
any sentiments or maxims more subversive of truth,

and more repugnant to the spirit of true philoso

phy

Further: All external. objects have some qualities

in common ; but between an external object and an
idea, or thought of the mind; there is not, there can
not possibly be, any resemblance.
grain of sand,
and the globe of the earth ; a burning coal, and a
lump of ice ; a drop of ink, and a sheet of white
paper, resemble each other, in being extended, solid,
and divisible ; but a thought or
figured, coloured,
idea has no extension, solidity, figure, colour, nor
so that no two external objects can be
divisibility

an external object and (what philoso

idea of it.
the
we are taught by
phers call^)
BERKELEY, that external objects, (that is, the things
xve take for external objects^) are nothing but ideas
in our minds ; in other words, that they are in eso unlike,

?.s

Now

very respect different from what they appear to be.

This candle, it seems, hath not one of those quali
it is not white, nor lumi
ties it appears to have
nous, nor round, nor divisible, nor extended ; for
to an idea of the mind, not one of these qualities
:

can possibly belong.

really is

How

From what

it

then shall I

seems

know what

it

to be, I can conclude

nothing no more than a blind man, by handling a,

bit of black \vax, can judge of the colour of
saow,
or the visible appearance of the starry heavens.
The candle may be an Egyptian pyramid, the king
of Prussia, a mad dog, or nothing at all
it
may be
the island of Madagascar, Saturn s ring, or one of
the Pleiad es; for any thing I know, or can ever
;

0.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
know

to the
contrary, except

you

PART

allow

me

II.

to judp-e

of its nature from its appearance ; which,

however,
I cannot
reasonably do, if its appearance and nature
are in every respect so different and unlike as not to
liave one
I must there
single quality in common.
fore believe it to be, what it appears to be, a real,

external object, and so reject BERKE

system ; or I never can, with any shadow of
reason, believe any thing whatsoever concerning it.
Will it yet be said, that the belief of this system
cannot in the least affect our sentiments and conduct ?
With equal truth may it be said, that Newton s con
duct and sentiments would not have been in the least
corporeal,

LEY

affected by his being

metamorphosed into an ideot,
or a pillar of sail.
Some readers may perhaps be dissatisfied with
this reasoning, on account of the
ambiguity of the
words external object and idea
which, however,
the assertors of the non-existence of matter have not
,*

as yet fully explained.

Others

may

think that I

must have misunderstood the author ; for that he

was too acute a logician to leave his system exposed
to objections so decisive, and so obvious.
To gra
tify such readers, I will not insist on these objec

That

tions.

may have

misunderstood the author

doctrine, is not only possible, but highly probable ;

nay, I have reason to think, that it was not perfect

ly understood even by himself.

KELEY write his Principles of

with

this

nour),

from
tions

For did not BER

Human Knowledge,

express view, (which does him great ho

to banish scepticism both

from science and

Was he not sanguine in his expecta

religion
And has not the event proved,
of success ?
?

was egregiously mistaken ? For is it not efrom

the use to which later authors have ap
videnr,
vhat he

plied it, that his system leads directly to atheism

And if a machine disap
and universal scepticism ?
far
as
its
inventor
to
so
produce effects contrary
point
to those he wished, intended, and expected ; may

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

CHAP. II.

we not, without breach of charity, conclude, that

he did not perfectly understand his plan ? At any
did
rate, it appears from this fact, that our author
not foresee all the objections to which his theory is
He did not foresee, that it might be made
liable,
i: he had, we
he would have renounced it with abhorrence.
This one objection therefore, (in which I think I
cannot be mistaken), will fully answer my present
purpose Our author s doctrine is contrary to com
mon belief, and leads to universal scepticism. Sup
pose it, then, universally and seriously adopted ;
suppose all men divested of all belief, and conse

the foundation of a sceptical system

know

all principle
would not the dissolution
of society, and the destruction of mankind necessa-

quently of

rily>ensue

Still I shall

be

told, that

BERKELEY was

.man, and that his principles did

him no

hurt.

a good
I al

he was indeed a most excellent person ;

none can revere his memory more than I. But does
it appear, that he ever acted
according to his princi
ples, or that he thoroughly understood them ? Does
it appear, that, if he had
put them in practice, no
hurt would have ensued to himself *, or to society ?

low

it

Let

his senses

we

not be pretended, that a man may disbelieve

without danger of inconvenience.
Pyrrho (as

it

read in Diogenes Laertius) professed to disbelieve his

and to be in no apprehension from any of the ob

senses,

them. The appearance of a precipice

or wild beast was nothing to Pyrrho , at least he said so :
lie would not avoid them
he knew they were nothing at
j

jects that affected

or at least that they were not what they seemed to be.

Suppose him to have been in earnest ? and suppose his
keepers to have in earnest adopted the same principles
would not their limbs and lives have been in as great dan
ger, as the limbs and life of a blind and deaf man wander
ing by himself in a solitary place, with his hands tied be
hind his back ? I would as soon say, that our senses are
useless faculties, as that we
might disbelieve thera without
all,

danger of inconvenience.

AN ESSAT ON TRUTH.

IpO

Does

it

PART

II.

appear, that he \vas a sceptic, or a friend to

?
Does it appear, that men may adopt

scepticism

his principles

The

without danger of becoming sceptics ?

all this appears with uncontrovertr-

contrary of
ble evidence.

The most
Surely pride was not made for man.
exalted genius may find in himself many
affecting
memorials of human frailty, and such as often ren
der him an object of compassion to those who in vir
tue and understanding are far inferior. I pity BERKE
LEY S weakness in patronising an absurd and dan
gerous theory ; I doubt not but it may have over
cast many of his days with a rioom, which neither
the approbation of his conscience, nor the natural se
And
renity of his temper, could entirely dissipate.

though I were to believe, thai he was intoxicated

with this theory, and rejoiced in it ; yet still I
for can.
should pity the intoxication a? a weakness
dour will not permit me to r.ive it a harsher name ;
as I see in his other writings, and know by the tes
timony of his contemporaries, particularly Pope and
Swift, that he was a friend to virtue, and to human
:

nature,

We must -not suppose a false doctrine harmless,

merely because it has net been able to corrupt the
heart of a good man.
Nor, because a few sceptics
have not authority to render science contemptibly
nor power to overturn society, must we suppose,
that therefore scepticism is not dangerous to science
The effects of a general scepticism
or mankind.
must therefore,
would be dreadful and fatal.
the
character of
for
reverence
our
notwithstanding

We

to affirm, what we have

is subversive
sufficiently proved, that his doctrine
as
most
s
man
of
amoral, intel
important interests,

BERKELEY, be permitted

and percipient being.

After all, though I were to grant, that the disbe
lief of the existence of matter could not produce any
considerable change in our principles of action and
ligent,

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TUUTH.

II.

reasoning, the reader will find in the sequel *, that

the point I have chiefly in view would not be much
I say not this, as
affected even by that concession.

being diffident or sceptical in regard to what I have

advanced on the present subject. Doctrines which
I do not believe, I will never recommend to others*
I

am absolutely

fatal

certain, that to

me

the belief of

BER

system would be attended with the most

consequences and that it would be equally

KELEY

dangerous to the rest of mankind, 1 cannot doubt, so

Jong as I believe their nature and mine to be the

same.

Though
is

it

be absurd to attempt a proof of what

it is
manly and meritorious to confute

self-evident,

the objections that sophistry may urge against it

This, with respect to the subject in question, has
been done,, .in a decisive and masterly, manner, by
the learned and sagacious Dr Reid f ; who proves 9
that the reasonings of BERKELEY, and others, con
cerning primary and secondary qualities
* Part 2,.
3.
t

chap,
Inquiry into the

Common

Human Mind

owe

al

on the Principles of

Sense.

that,
t DES CARTES, LOCKE, and BERKELEY suppose,
what v/e call a body is nothing but a collection of qualities j
and these they divide -in* primary and secondary, Of the
former kind are magnitude, extension, solidity, &c. which
LOCKE and the CARTESIANS allow to belong to bodies at

all times,

v
whether perceived or not.

are \\iQ-heat cffire,

these,

by the same

tfie xtf?/?//

and

authors, and

Of- the

latter

taste of a rose,

kind

&c. and

by BERKELEY are said to

exist not in the bodies themselves, -but only in the

that perceives them : -an error they are led into by

mind

sup
posing, that the words heat^ taste\ sme//t &tc. signify noth
ing but a perception^ whereas. -we have formerly shown ?
that they also signify an external thing.
BERKELEY, fol
lowing the hints which he found in Diis CARTES, MALEBRANCHE and LOCKE, has applied the same mode of rea

soning to prove^ that primary, as well as secondary quail-

0,3

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II.

their strength to the ambiguity of words.

I have
proved, that, though this fundamental error had

never beeu detected, the philosophy of BERKELEY is

in its own nature absurd, because it supposes the
original principles of common sense controvertibk
and fallacious a supposition repugnant to the geni
us of true philosophy and which leads to universal
:

credulity, or universal scepticism ; and, consequent

ly, to the subversion of knowledge and virtue, and
the extermination of the human species,
It is proper, before we proceed to the
make a remark or two on what

stance, to

next in
has beeu

said.
1. Here we have an instance of a doctrine advan
ced by some philosophers, in direct contradiction to
the general belief of all men in all ages.
2.
The reasoning by which it is supported,
though long accounted unanswerable, did never pro

Common

duce a serious and steady conviction.

declared the doctrine to be false ; we wera

find
the powers of human reason so limited,
to
sorry
as not to afford a logical confutation of it ; we were

sense

still

convinced

it

merited confutation, and flattered

our

selves, that one time or other it would be confuted.

3. The real and general belief of this doctrine

would be attended with fatal consequences to science,

and to human nature for this is a doctrine accord~
:

ing to

which a man could not

common

of insanity or folly,
tress and perdition.
4.

An

act nor reason in the

without incurring the charge
and involving himself in dis

affairs of life,,

ingenious man, from a sense of the bad

this doctrine, applies himself to examine

tendency of

the principieb on,

ties,

which

it

have no external existence

bcdy (which

consists of these

is

two

founded

discovers

and consequently, that

of qualities, can

classes

as an idea in the mind that per

nothing else) exists only
ceives t, and exists no longer than yrhile it is perceived,

CHAP.

them

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH,

II.

to

be erroneous

93

and proves, to the full con

viction of all competent judges, that from beginning.

to end it is all a mystery of falsehood, arising from-

the use of ambiguous expressions, and from the gra

tuitous admission of principles which never could

have been admitted

if

they had been thoroughly un

derstood.

SECT.

TIT.

Of Liberty and Necessity.

second instance to which I purpose to apply
the principles of this discourse, by showing the
danger of carrying any investigation beyond the dic
tates of common sense, is no other than the celebra
ted question concerning liberty and necessity ; a ques
tion en which many things have been said, and some
r "PHE
*"

To enter into
things, I presume, to little purpose.
all the particulars of this controversy^ is foreign to
present design ; and I would not wish to add to

my

My

a dispute already too bulky.,

intention, is, to
trearthe doctrine of necessity as I treated that of the
non-existence of matter ; by enquiring, whether the
one be not, as well as the other, contrary to common*
sense, and therefore absurd,
1. That certain intentions and actions are in them
selves, and previous to all consideration of their con
sequences, good, laudable,, and meritorious 5 and that
other actions and intentions are* bad, blameable, and
worthy of punishment, has been felt and acknow
ledged by all; reasonable creatures in all ages and na
tions.
need not wonder at the universality of
it is:as natural to the human consti
this sentiment

We

tution, as the faculties of hearing, seeing, and me

mory ; it is as clear, unequivocal, and affecting, as
any intimation from any sense external or internal.
-

That we cannot do some things, but have it inl

cur power to do others, is what no man in his senses,
will hesitate to affirm. I can take
up my staff from
2.

the ground, but I cannot

lift

a stone of a thousand

AX ESSAY ON TRUTH.
On

PART

II.

weight.
common, I may walk southward or
northward, eastward or westward but I cannot as
cend to the clouds, nor sink downward to the centre
of the earth. Just now I have power to think of an
absent friend, of the Peak of Teneriffe, of a
passage
in Homer, or of the death of Charles I.
"When a
man asks me a question, I have it in my power to
answer or be silent, to answer softly or
roughly, in
terms of respect or in terms of contempt.
Frequent
a

temptations to vice
I

fall in

my way

may

yield, or

may resist if I resist, I applaud myself, because I

am conscious it was in my power to do otherwise
if I yield, I am filled with shame and
remorse, for
:

having neglected to do what I might have done, and

ought to have done.
My liberty in these instances
I cannot prove by argument ; but there is not a truth
in geometry of which I am more certain.
Is not this doctrine sufficiently obvious ? Must
I quote EpictetuSj or any other ancient author, to
prove that men were of the same opinion in former

times ? No idea occurs more frequently in my read,

ing and conversation, than that of power or agency ;
and I think-- 1 understand my own meaning as well
when I speak of it, as when I speak of any thing
But this idea has had the misfortune to come
else.
under the examination of Mr HUME, who, according
to custom, has found means so to darken and disfigure
it, that, till we have cleared it of his misrepresenta*.
tions, we cannot proceed any further in the present
subject. And we are the more inclined to digress on
this occasion, that he has made his theory of power
ground of some atheistical inferences, which we
should not scruple at any time to step out of our
th"

to ov- rturn.
Perhaps these frequent digrtssions are offer- si ve to the reader : they are equally
To remove rubbish is neither an
so to the writer.
a
nor
work, but it. s ofr^n necessary.
pleasant
elegant
It is peculiarly necessary in the phijoso hy of human
The road to moral truth has been left in
Mature.

way

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

195

such a plight by some modern projectors, that a man

of honesty and plain sense must either, with great
labour, and loss of time, delve his way through, or

be swallowed up
him,

in a

quagmire.

The metaphysician

more

His levity, perhaps, enables

easily.
like Camilla in Virgil, to skim along the sur

ulvances

face without sinking ; or perhaps, the extreme sub

in Paradise Lost,
tlety of his genius can, like Satan
penetrate this chaos, without being much incumber-

But men of

ed or retarded in his progress.

ordi

nary talents have net those advantages, and must

therefore be allowed to flounce along, though with no
very graceful motion, the best way they can.
All ideas, according to Mr HUME S fundamental
hypothesis, are copied from and represent iu!];resBut we have never any impression that con
sions
:

any power or efficacy

have any idea of power *.
tains

We

never, therefore,
In proof of the minor
proposition of this syllogism, he remarks, That
when we think we perceive our mind acting on
matter, or one piece of matter acting upon another,
we do in fact perceive only two objects or events
contiguous and successive, the second of which is
always found in experience to follow the first ;
but that we never perceive, either by external
sense, or by consciousness, that power, energy, or
efficacy, which connects the one event with the
other.
By observing that the two events do always accompany each other, the imagination acquires a habit of going readily from the first to the
second, and from the second to the first ; and hence
we are led to conceive a kind of necessary connexion between them. But in fact there is neither
necessity nor power in the objects we consider, but
only in the mind that considers them ; and even in
the mind, this power of necessity is nothing but a
*
determination of the fancy, acquired by habit, to
:

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

4<

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

Treatise of

Human

Nature, vol.

1.

p.

282.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

196

PART

II.

pass from the idea of an object to that of its usual

attendant
So that what we call the efficacy
of a cause to produ.: ;; an effect, is neither in the cause
nor in the effect, bi, only in the imagination, which
has contracted a habit of passing from the object cal
"

"

*."

led the cause, to the object called the effect, and thus
Has the fire a power to
associating them together.
? No
but the fancy is determined by habit
from the idea of fire to that of melted lead,
on account of our having always perceived them con
and this is the whole matter.
tiguous and successive

melt lead

to pass

Have

I a

power

to

move rry arm ? No the volition

oiy arm has no connexion
;

that precedes the motion

with that motion ; but

ways observed

-^ie

to follow

motion having been

al

the volition, comes to be

associated with it in the fancy ; and what we call

the power, or necessary connexion, has nothing to do
either with the volition or with the motion, but is
merely a determination of my fancy, or your fancy,
or any body s fancy, to associate the idea or im
pression of my volition with the impression or idea

of the motion of

my arm

press myself more

am sorry

but

1 cannot ex
should not do jus

clearly ;
author, if I did not imitate his obscurity
on the present occasion plain words will never do
when one has an unintelligible doctrine to support.
What shall we say to this collection of strange
tice to

my

or what name shall we give it ? Shall we

most ingenuous discovery, illustrated by a
most ingenuous argument ? This would be compli

phrases

call

it

menting the author

at a

would imply, not only

very great expsnce

Mr Hume

for this

the wisest
of mortal men, but also that he is the only individual
Certain
of that species of animals who is not a fool.
it is, that all men have in all ages talked, and argued,
and acted, from a persuasion that they had a very
that

is

power. If our author can prove,

that they had no such notion, he can also prove, that
* Treatise of Human
300,
Nature, vol. 1. p. 272

distinct notion of

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

197

all human discourse is nonsense, all human actions ab

surdity, and all human compositions fhis own not
The boldness
cxcepted) words without meaning.

of this theory, will, however, pass with many, for a

Be it so, Gentlemen,
proof of its being ingenuous.
I dispute not about epithets ; if you will have it,
that genius consisteth in the art of putting words to
I have
gether so as to form absurd propositions.
Others will admire this doc
nothing more to say.
trine, because the words by which the author means
to illustrate and prove it, if printed on a good paper
and with an elegant type, would of themselves make
It were
a pretty sizeable volume.
pity to deprive
these people of the pleasure of admiring ; otherwise
I might tell them, that nothing is more
easy than

this

method of composition

for that

take, at a very short warning, (if

it

innocently, and without prejudice to

would under
could be done

my

health), to

write as many pages, with equal appearance of rea

son and argument, and with equal advantage to phi
losophy and mankind, in vindication of any given ab
surdity: provided only, that (like the absurdity in
question) it were expressed in words of which one
at least is

ambiguous.

am so little disposed to admire this ex

traordinary paradox, that nothing could make me be
lieve its author to have been in earnest, if I had not
found him drawing inferences from it too serious to
be jested with by any person who is not absolutely
distracted.
It is one of Mr HUME S maxims, That
we can never have reason to believe, that any object,
or quality of an object, exists, of which we cannot
form an idea *. But, according to this
astonishing
theory of power, and causation, we can form no idea
of power, nor of any being endowed with
In truth, I

MUCH LESS

any power,

of one endowed with infinite power f.

* Treatise of

Human

Nature, vol.

1. p.

Some

302.

readers will smile, perhaps, at the

phraseology
of this sentence j but I quote the author s own words.
See
f

Treatise of

Human

Nature, vol.

1. p.

432.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

198

The

inference

to paper.
stitious.

what

is

PART

II,

do not chuse to commii

But our

He

elegant author is not so super

often puts his readers in mind, that

or something very like it, is deducible

* :
for which, no doubt,
every
friead to truth, virtue, and human nature is infmuely
this inference,

from

his doctrine

him
But what do you say

obliged to

in opposition to my theory r
with a contempt which hardly
becomes you, and which my philosophy has nofc met
with from your betters
pray let us hear your ar
And do you, Sir, really think it incum
guments
bent on me to prove by argument, that 1, and all other men, have a notion of power and that the effi
cacy of a cause (of fire, for instance, to melt lead) is
in the cause, and not in my mind ? Would you think
it incumbent on me to confute you with
arguments,
if you were pleased to affirm, that all men have tails
and cloven feet ; and that it was I who produced the

You

affect to treat it

earthquake that destroyed Lisbon, the plague that

depopulates Constantinople, the heat that scorches
the wilds of Africa, and the cold that freezes the
Hyperborean ocean ? Truly, Sir, I have not the face
to undertake a direct confutation of what I do not
understand ; and I am so far from comprehending this
part of your system, that 1 will venture to pronounce
it

perfectly unintelligible.

who

say they understand

know

there are

some

but I also know, that

there are some who speak, and read, and write too,
ivith very little expence of thought.
These are all but evasions, you exclaim and in
it

Never fear, Sir ; I

on rny coming to the point.
am too deeply interested in some of the consequences
of this theory of yours, to put you off with evasions.
To come therefore to the point, I shall first state
your doctrine in your own words, that there may be
no risk of misrepresentation ; and then if I should
sist

* Treatise of

Human

Nature

p. ,284,.

29 1, 306, 431.

CflAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

199

not be able directly to prove

(for the reason
already given), I shall demonstrate, indirectly at
least, or by the apagogical method, that it is not,
and cannot possibly be true.
it false,

"As

"

"

"

<(

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

the

necessity,"

says

Mr HUME,

"which

makes two times two equal to four, or three angles

of a triangle equal to two right ones, lies only in
the act of the understanding, by which we consider

"

and compare these ideas*

cessity or

power which

in like

manner, the ne-

unites causes and effects, lies

determination of the mind to pass from the

one to the other. The efficacy, or energy, of causes
is neither placed in the causes themselves, nor in
the Deity, nor in the concurrence of these two
principles ; but belongs entirely to the soul, which
considers the union of two or more objects in all
It is here that the real power of
past instances.
causes is placed along with their connexion and
in the

"

necessity f."
To find that his principles lead to atheism, wr ould
stagger an ordinary philosopher, and make him sus

pect his fundamental hypothesis, and all his subse

But the author now quoted is not
quent reasonings.
On the
staggered by considerations of this kind.
is so intoxicated with his
he
contrary,
discovery,
that, however sceptical in other points, he seems will

ing to admit this as one certain conclusion J.

* What is it
my understanding that makes two and
two equal to four Was it not so before I was born, and
would it not be so though all intelligence were to cease
But it is idle to spend time in
throughout the universe
confuting what every child who has learned the very first
tlements of science, knows to be absurd.
!

f
}
"

**
"

Human Nature, vol. 1.

Speaking of it in another place, he
Treatise of

p.

291.
"

says,

A conclu-

which is somewhat extraordinary, but which seems

founded on sufficient evidence. Nor will its evidence
be weakened by any general diffidence of the understand"

sion

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

2CG

PART

II.

If a man can reconcile himself to atheism, which is

the greatest of all absurdities, I fear, I shall hardly
put him out of conceit with his doctrine, when I show
him that other less enormous absurdities are implied
in

We may

it.

make

the trial however.

Gentle

men

are sometimes pleased to entertain unaccount

able prejudices against their Maker ; who yet, in other matters, where neither fashion nor hypothesis in

condescend to acknowledge, that the good old

between truth and falsehood is not alto
without
foundation.
gether
On the supposition that we have no idea of power
or energy, and that the preceding theory of causation
is just, our author gives the following definition of a
cause ; which seems to be fairly enough deduced from
his theory, and which he says is the best that he can
cause is an object precedent and contigive.
guous to another, and so united with it, that the
idea of the one determines the mind to form the
idea of the other, and the impression of the one to
form a more lively idea of the other*." There
are now in my view two contiguous houses one of
which was built last summer, and the other two

terfere,

distinction

"

"

"

"

"

"

**
"

<;

"

ing, or sceptical suspicion, concerning every conclusion

which is new and extraordinary. No conclusion can be

more agreeable to scepticism than such as make discoveries

concerning the weakness and narrow limits of human

reason and

capacity."

Plume s Essays, vol. 2. p. 87. edit. 1767.

not what discoveries this conclusion may lead
others to make concerning our author s reason and capa
some ground to think, that in him it has
city but I have
not wrought any extraordinary self-abasement ; otherwise
he would not have asserted, with so much confidence,
what he acknowledges to be a most violent paradox, and
I

know
:

what is indeed contrary to the experience and conviction

See Treatise of Human
of every person of common sense.
291, 299.
Nature, vol.
* Treatise of Human
Nature, vol. i. p. 298.
l./>.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

2OI

By seeing them constantly together for

years ago.
several months, I find, that the idea of the one deter
mines my mind to form the idea of the other, and the
of
impression of the one to form a more lively idea
So that, according to our author s defini
the other.
tion, the one house is the cause, and the other the
effect
Again, day and night have always been con
successive ; the imagination naturally
and
tiguous
runs from the idea or impression of the one to the
idea of the other consequently, according to the same
profound theory and definition, either day is the cause
of night, or night the cause of day, just as we con
sider the one or the other to have been originallj
prior in time that is, in other words, light is either
the cause or the effect of darkness ; and its being the
one or the other depends entirely on my imagination
Let those admire this discovery who understand it.
Causation * implies more than priority and con
This relation
tiguity of the cause to the effect.
cannot be conceived at all, without a supposition of
power or energy in the cause f. Let the reader re
collect two things that stand related as causs and ef
!

fect

him contemplate them with a view to this

then let him conceive the cause divested
power and he must at the same instant con
let

relation

of

all

a cause no
for a cause di
longer
vested of power, is divested of that by which it is a
cause.
If a man, after examining his notions of
causation in this manner, is conscious that he has an
idea of power, then I say he has that idea.
If all
men, in all ages, have used the word power, or

ceive, that

it is

something synonymous to
* Causation in
cause

and

curs,

and never,

effect.

it,

and

if

all

men know

Mr HUME

S
style, denotes the relation of
In English authors, the word rarely oc
It properly signi
think, in this sense.

fies,

The

act or power

Non

causa intelligi debet, ut quod cuique antececausa sit, sed quod cuique efficicnter antecedat.

at id ei

of causing.

sic

Cicero

De

Fato>

cap. 15.

AN ESSAY NO TRUTH.

102

PART

what they mean when they speak of power,

tain, that all
of power, in

men have

II.

main

a notion, conception, or idea

whatever way they came by

it

and I

also maintain, that no true philosopher ever denied

the existence or reality of any thing, merely because

he could not give an account of its

the opinion

commonly

origin, or because

received concerning

its

origin

not happen to quadrate with his system.

<iid

When, therefore, Mr HUME says, that the efficacy

or energy of causes is not placed in the causes them
selves, he says neither less nor more than this, that
what is essential to a cause is not in a cause of, in
that a cause is not a cause.
other words,
Are
there any persons who, upon the authority of this
theorist, have rashly adopted atheistical principles ?
Ye blinded followers of a
I know there are such.
blind guide, ye dupes of unmeaning words and in
comprehensible arguments, behold on what a cham
;

All the com

pion ye have placed your confidence
fort I can give you is, that/if it be possible for the
same thing at the same time to be and not to be, you
may possibly be in the right.
It follows from what has been said, that we can
not admit this theory of power and causation, with
out admitting, at the same time, the grossest and
most impious absurdities. Is this a sufficient con
If any person think
futation of it ? I think it is.
a
I
take
shorter
otherwise,
method, and utterly de
!

ny

all

the premises from

which

this strange conclu

supposed to result. I deny the doctrine of

impressions and ideas, as the author has explained
it ; nay, I have already affirmed, and proved, it to be
And I maintain,
not only false, but unintelligible.
sion

is

that though it could be shown, that all simple ideas

are derived from impressions, or intimations of sense,
it is true, notwithstanding, that all men have an idea

Thev ger it by experience, that is, by

of power.
mtimatixms of sense, both external and internal.
Their mind acting upon their body gives them this

CHAP.

AN

II.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

203

notion or idea ; their body acting on other bodies,

and acted on by other bodies, gives them the same
idea ; which is also suggested by all the effects and
So tho
changes they see produced in the universe.
roughly are we acquainted with it, that we can in ca
ses innumerable, determine, with the utmost accura
cy and certainty, the degree of power necessary to
.

produce a given effect.

I repeat therefore, notwithstanding all our author
has said, or can say, to the contrary, that some things
are in our power, and others are not ; and that we
perfectly understand our own meaning when we say
That the reader may not lose any chain in our
so.
reasoning, he will please to look back to the second

and third paragraphs of

this section.

3. By attending to my own internal feelings, and

to the evidence given by other men of theirs, I am
sensible, that I .deserve reward or punishment for
those actions only which are in my own power.
I

am no more accountable for the evil which I can

neither prevent nor remedy, than for the destruction
of Troy, or the plagues of Egypt ; and for the good
which happens by my means, but against
I no more deserve reward or praise, than

my

will,

if I

were

a piece of inanimate matter.

This is the doctrine of common sense ; and this
doctrine has in all ages been supported by some of
the most powerful principles of our nature ;

by

principles which, in the common affairs of life, no

man dares suppose to be equivocal or fallacious.
man may as well tell me that I am blind, or deaf, or
that. I feel no heat when I approach the fire, as that
I have not a natural sentiment
disposing me to blame

intentional injury, and to praise intentional benefi

cence

and which makes

that the evil I

am

and that the good

meritorious.

ame

me

feel

compelled to do
I

is-

perform against

That other men

sentiment, I

and be conscious,

know with

R3

as

not

my

criminal,
will is not

are- conscious of the

much

certainty as

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

204

PART

II.

can know any thing of what passes in the mind of

other men
for I have daily and hourly opportuni
ties of making observations in regard to this
very
The greatest part of conversion turns upon
point.
the morality of human actions
and I never yet
heard any person seriously blamed or applauded, by
a reasonable creature, for an action in the perfor
mance of which he was not considered as a free a;

The most rigid Predestinarians suppose

freedom of will to be in one way or other consistent
with eternal an d unconditional decrees if they can
gent*.

not explain in what way,

they call it a mystery ;
It surpasses their understanding ;
but it must be
for otherwise the morality of actions is altogether
inconceivable f.
Do the interests of science, or of
so>

Si

omnia

omnia fiunt causa antecedente- 5

etiam quse appetitum sequuntur ergo-,
At si causa appetitus non est sita in

fato fiunt,

ct, si appetitus, ilia

ctiam assensiones.
nobis, ne ipse qnidem appetitus est in nostra protestate;
Quod si ita est, ne ilia quidem quse appetitu efficiuntur

Non sunt igitur, neque assensiones

in nostra potestate : ex quo efficitur, ut nee

sunt sita in nobis.

neque actiones,

laudationesjustce sint, nee vituperationes , nee honores, nee

plicia.

Quod cum

putant,

non omnia

vitiosum
fato

fieri

sit,

probabiliter

quaecumque
Cicero^

suf<r

concludi

fiant,

De Fafo, cap. 17.

me such a novice

f The reader, I hope, does not think

in reasoning, as to urge the judgment of the council of
Trent in behalf of any doctrine, philosophical or religious*

Yet every fact in logic and morals is worth our notice,

If we would establish those sciences on their only firm
foundation, the universal consent and practice of man
kind:

It deserves^ therefore, to

be remarked,

that, at the

Reformation, this consciousness-of free will was acknowledged

both by the Lutherans, and by the church of Rome, to be
a principle of

common

sense,

which was

net by reasoning, but by experimental

x most judicious and

to be* ascertained

proof.

So

elegant historian, whose words

says

are. re-

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON

It.

TRUTtf.

2C"5

by this representation of the matter ?

But some philosophers, not satisfied
with this view of it, are for bringing the sentiment
of moral liberty to the test of reason.
They want
virtue, suffer
I think not.

prove by argument, either that I have, or that I

have not, such a feeling or, if I shall be found to
have it, they want to know whether it be fallacious
or not. In other words, they want to prove or to dis
prove, what I know by instinct to be unquestionably
or they want to inquire, whether it be rea
certain
sonable for me to act and think according to a prin
I cannot con
ciple, which, by the law of my nature,
to

tradict, either in

though or action.

Would

not the

same

a
spirit of inquiry lead a geometrician to attempt
his
axioms
a
of
natural
confutation
or
;
philoso
proof

pher todoubt whether things be what his senses repre

them; an ordinary man toargue concerning the pro
priety of perceiving colours by the eyes, and odours
by the nostrils ? Would not the same spirit of doubt
and disputation, applied to more familiar instances,
transform a philosopher into a madman, and a per
son of plain sense into an idiot?
sent

markably apposite to the present subject, and

ner in which we treat it.
Speaking of some
to be

to trie

man

articles said

many

maintained by the Lutherans, in opposition to free

historian informs us, that, in the
judgment of
of that celebrated council, the opinion implied in

these

articles,

will, the

"

"

46

"

empia, e biasfema contra Dio.

Ch

era una pazzia contra il senso comune,

esperimentando ogni huomo la propria liberta, eke non merita contestation,

ma, comme Anstotele dice, o castigo, o prova esperimenChe, i medesimi discepoli di Luthero s erano ac-

"tale.
"

corti della

"

esservi liberta nell

"

piazzia

moderando

1 assordita, dissero
poi,
in quello, che tocca le attioni
economiche, e quanto ad

e,

huomo

esterne polkiche ed

ogni giusquali e sciocco chi non conosce vem r dal

conseglio ed ellettione ; restringendosi a negar la liberta
*
quanta alia sola giustitia divina*" Istoria del Cosci/s
Trid. di P. Sarpi. lib, 2.
"

titia

civile

le

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

206
But

PART

II.

us not be too rigid.

If a philosopher must
needs have his rattles and playthings, let him have
them only, for his own sake, and for the sake of the
neighbours, I would advise, that edge-tools, and other dangerous instrumentsof amusement, bekeptout
of his reach.
If a Cartesian will not, on any account,
believe his own existence, except I grant him his
Cogito, ergo sum, ,far be it from me to deprive the
poor man of that consolation. The reasoning indeed
is bad, but the principle is good ; and a gocd principle
is so good a
thing, that rather than oblige a man to
renounce it, I would dispense with the strict obser
vance of a logical precept. If a star-gazer cannot
see the inhabitants of the moon with one perspective,
let him tie a score of them together, with all my
heart.
If a virtuoso is inclined to look at the sun
through a microscope, and at a rotten cheese
through a telescope, to apply ear-trumpets to his
eyes, and equip his two ears with as many pairs of
spectacles, he has my full permission j .and much
let

These amusements are idle,

good may it do him.
but they are innocent. The Cartesian, if the truth
were known, would be found neither the better nor
The star-gazer has
the worse for his enthymeme*
not atchieved a single glimpse -of his lunar friends,
but sees more confusedly than before however, he
may console himself with this reflection, that one
may pa c s through life with the character of a very
honest and tolerably happy man, though he should
never have it in his power to extend the sphere of
:

The
his acquaintance beyond this sublunary globe.
virtuoso takes a wrong, and indeed a very preposter
ous method, for improving his sight and hearing ;
but if he is careful to confine these frolics to his pri
vate apartment, and never boast m public of his au
ditory, or optical apparatus,

-?
may live comfortably
and respectably enough, though he should never see
the spots in the sun, nor the bristles on a mite s

back.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

207

I would however, earnestly exhort my friend the

metaphysician, to believe himself a free agent upon
the bare authority of his feelings, and not to imagine
that Nature is such a bungler in her trade, as first to
intend to impose upon him, and then inadvertently
give him sagacity to see through the imposture. In
deed, if it were a matter of indifference, whether we
believe our moral feelings or disbelieve them, I
should not object to the use of a little unbelief now
and then, by way of experiment or cordial, provided
it were a thing that a reasonable man could take any
But I am convinced, that habitual
pleasure in.
is not more pernicious to our- animal
dram-drinking
nature, then habitual scepticism to our rational.
And when once this scepticism comes to affect our
moral sentiments, or active principles, ail is over
with us we are in the condition of a man intoxicat
ed ; fit only for raving, dozing, and doing mischief.
:

the metaphysician is too headstrong to

But, alas
It would be a fine thing, indeed,
follow my advice.
if
he,
says
gentlemen were to yield to the dictates of
nature.
Is there a single dictate of nature to which
people of fashion now-a-days pay any regard ? No,
no the world is grown wiser.
As to this sentiment
of moral liberty, I very much question its tide to be
ranked with the dictates of nature.
It seems to be a
piece of vile sophistication, a paltry prejudice, hatch
ed by the nurse, and fostered by the priest.
I am
determined to take it roundly to task, and examine
its pretensions with the
eye of a philosopher and
freethinker.
Sir, you may take your
well,
Very
own way ; it requires no skill in magic to be able to
foretell the
traveller no sooner quits
consequence.
the right road, on supposition of its being wrong,
than he gets into one that is really so,
If you set
out in your inquiry, with suspecting the principles
of common sense to be erroneous, you have little
chance of falling in with; any other principles, that
are not erroneous*
!

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

208

The
lows

"

PART

II.

result of the metaphysical inquiry is as fol

Every human action must proceed from

The motive or cause

some motive as its cause.
must be sufficient to produce the action or effect ;

"

"

"

"

**

otherwise it is no motive : and, if sufficient to produce it, must necessarily produce it ; for every effeet proceeds necessarily from its causej as heat

proceeds from fire. Now, the immediate

causes of action are volitions, or energies of the will:
these arise necessarily from passions or appetites,
*
which proceed necessarily from judgments or o(t
pinions j which are the necessary effect of external
things, or of ideas, operating, according to the necessary laws of nature, upon our senses, intellect,
**
or fancy and these ideas, or things, present themselves to our powers of perception, as necessarily
as light presents itself when we turn our open eyes
to the sun.
In a word, every human action is the
effect of a series of causes, each of which does ne-

"necessarily
"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

cessarily produce its own proper effect so that if

It is
the first operate, all the rest must follow.
confessed, that an action may proceed immediately
:

"

"

volition, and may therefore properly be called voluntary but theprimum mobile or first cause,
even of a voluntary action, is something as independent on our will, as the production of the great*
Begrandfather is independent on the grandson.
tween physical and moral necessity there is no dif*
ference ; the phenomena of the moral world being
no less necessary than those of the material. And,
u to
conclude, if we are conscious of a feeling or sentiment of moral liberty, it must be 3 deceitful one ;
*
for no past action of our lives could have been pret(
vented, and no future action can possibly be conTherefore man is not a free, but a netingent.

"

from

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

cessary
is

expected

when

agent."

just such a conclusion as I should have

for thus it always has been, and will be,
the dictates of common sense are questioned

This

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

209

and disputed. The existence of body, the existence

of the soul, the reality of our idea of power, the dif
ference between moral and intellectual virtue, the
certainty of the inference from an effect to the cause,,
and many otfcer such truths, dictates of common sense,

have been called

what

is

and argued upon. And

truly it has been found,

in question,

the result

Why

no body, that there is.no soul, that we

have no idea of power, that moral and intellectual
virtue are not different, and that a cause is not ne
cessary to the production of that which hath a be
that there is

And now the liberty of human actions is

ginning.
questioned and debated, what could we expect, but
But passing this
that it would share the same fate
!

which, hoWever, seems to merit

attention, we shall here only enquire, whether this
doctrine of necessity be not in some important points
extremely similar to that of the non-existence of
matter.

for the present *,

i.

Of

this doctrine

we

observe, in the

first place,

any regard is to be had to the meaning of

words, and if human actions may reasonably be taken
that, if

for the signs of

in

all

human

sentiments,

all

ages, been of a different opinion.

mankind have,
The number

of professed philosophers who have maintained that

all things happen through unavoidable
necessity, is
but small ; nor are we to imagine that all the ancient
Fatalists

were of

this

number.

The

Stoics

were Fa-

* Some readers
may possibly, on this occasion, call to
mind a saying of an old Greek author, who, though now
obsolete, was in his day, and for several ages after, accoun
ted a

man

tion his

of considerable penetration.

name, nor translate

ing (pardon a fond author

I neither

men

his words, for fear of offend

s

vanity)

my

polite

readers,

AN \QN THN AFAITHN TH2 AAH0EIA5 OYK

EAEHANTO AIA TOYTO IIEMYEI AYTOI2 *O
0EOS ENEPFEIAN IIAANH2 EI2 TO III2TEY2AI
AYTOY2 Til TEYAEL

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

210

PART

II.

by profession 9 but they still endeavoured as

well as they could, to reconcile fate with moral free
dom * ; and the first sentence of the Enchiridon of
-

talists

Epictetus contains a declaration, that opinion, pursuit, desire, and aversion, and, in one word, whatever are our own actions, are in our own power."
see in Cicero s fragment De Fato, and in the be
"

"

"

We

ginning of the sixth book of Aulus Gellius, by what

subterfuges and quibbling distinctions the Stoic

Chrysippus reconciled the seemingly opposite princi

ples of fate and free-will.

what he says on

am

not surprised, that

for
unsatisfactory
Christians have puzzled themselves to no pur
pose in the same argument. But though the manner
in which the divine ptescience is exerted be mysteri
ous and inexplicable, it does not follow, that the
freedom of our will is equally so. Of this we may
this subject is

many

be, and

we

are,

competent judges.

intimated to every

every man

is

man by

satisfied

It is sufficiently

own

experience ; and
with this intimation, and by
his

his conduct declares, that he trusts to it as certain

and authentic. Nothing can be a clearer proof, that

the sentiment of moral liberty is one of the most

in human nature, than its having been so
long able to maintain its ground, and often in oppo

powerful

sition to other popular opinions apparently repugnant.

The notion of fate has prevailed much in the world,

and yet could never subvert this sentiment even in

If it be asked, where the vulgar othe vulgar
times are to be found ? I answer,
ancient
of
pinions
*

"

**
"

"

By Fate the Stoics seem to have understood a series

of events appointed by the immutable counsels of God ;
or, that law of his providence by which he governs the
world.
It is evident by their writings, that they meant
it in no sense which interferes with the liberty of human
"

actions."

See

Mrs

Carter

admirable Introduction to Her very

17.
works of Epictetus,

translation of the
elegant
p.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

2,11

that in the writings of the most popular poets we

have a chance to find them more genuine than in sy
stems of philosophy -- To advance paradoxes, and
is often the most ef
consequently to disguise facts,
but a poet
fectual recommendation of a philosopher
:

must conform himself to the general principles and

manners of mankind ; otherwise he can never become
a general favourite,
the system of

Now

"

"

"

"

"

4*
<*

**
**
c*
"

"

"

Homer

and Virgil concerning

Homer
perfectly explicit.
the
assigns three causes," I quote
word^o/ Pope,
of all the good and evil that happens in this world,

fate

and free-will,

"

is

which he takes

a particular care to distinguish!

will
of
the
God, superior to all. Secondly,
First,
Destiny or fate, meaning the laws and order of nature, affecting the constitutions of men, and disposing them to good or evil, prosperity or misfortune ;
which the Supreme Being, if it be his pleasure,

may over-rule, (as Jupiter is inclined to do in the

case of Sarpedon *) ; but which he generally suffers to take effect.
Thirdly, Our own free will,
which either by prudence overcomes those natural
influences and passions, or

under them

by

folly suffers us to fall

some of the decrees

of fate, Homer informs us, that they were conditional,,
or such as could not take effect, except certain ac
tions were performed by men.
Thus Achilles had
it in his power to continue at Troy, or to return home
before the end of the war. If he chose to stay, iris life
would be short and glorious ; if to return, he was to
"

f."

In regard to

He pre
enjoy peace and leisure to a good old age
fers the former, though he well knew what was to
.

Iliad, xvi.

f Iliad,

on hese

i.

433.

5. xix. 90.

Odyss.

i.

7. 39.

See Pope

notes

Ilisd, IK.

315.

sages.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

212

TART

II.

and I know not whether there be any other

follow
circumstance in the character of this hero, except
his love to his friend and to his father, which so
:

powerfully recommends him to our regard. This

gloomy resolution invests him with a mournful digni
ty, the effects of which a reader of sensibility often
feels at his heart, in a sentiment made up of admira
Ac
But this by the by.
tion, pity, and horror.
cording to Virgil, the completion, even of the abso
lute decrees of fate, may be retarded by the agency
a certain term is
of beings inferior to Jupiter *
:

fixed

My

fate%

And

long since by Thetis were disclos d

life or fame proposed.
before the Trojan town,
date, but deathless my renown)

each alternate,

Here

if I stay

Short

is

my

If I return,

For years on

On

quit immortal praise

years, and long extended

days.- Pope*

M.

Dacier, in Her note on this passage)

partout dans Homere des marques qu il a voit connu cette
double destinee des hommeSj, si necessaire pour accorder le
voit (says

En voicy un tesmoignage bien formel et bicn expres. II y a ducx chemins

il leur arripour tons les hommes s ils prennent celuy-la,

libre arbitre avec la predestination.

vera telle chose

s ils

preimcrit

celui-cy, leur sort

sera

different.

manner, represents the decree oi

The anger oi
Destiny concerning Ajax, as conditional.
Minerva against that hero was to last only one day if his
friends kept him within doors during that space, all would
be well ? if they suffered him to go abroad unattended,
Sophocles,

in like

Ajax Mastig. 772.794.818,

\i le
the
scholiast), (rwSwe roc/
^aT?,
fttvu (says
coc xaj
/
TOVTO fe TO lirlov r pcipiw

his death was inevitable.

,/

pw

o>i?^o?

^avaro to
^c;, A/^8ai/ac x.x^ac fep^tK

rexcc-ae.

i5S8. /. 48,
Sophocles, cpud H. Stcfih:
dabitur regnis (esto) piohibere Latinis,
Atque immota tnanet fatis Lavinia corijux 5
At trahere, atque moras tantis licet addere rebus.
8
JEneid, vii. 313,

Non

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

213

man, beyond which his life cannot last ;

but before this period arrives, he may die, by acci
dental misfortunej or deserved punishment* to vir
tue and vice necessity reaches not at allf
fixed to every

la all the histories 1 have read of ancient or mo

dern, savage or civilized nations, I find the conduct
of mankind has ever been such as I should expect
from creatures possessed of moral freedom, and con
Several forms of false religion, and
scious of it.
true, have im
with
this freedom ; but men
tenets
inconsistent
posed
have still acted, notwithstanding, as if they believed
themselves to be free.
CPreeds, expressed in general

some erroneous commentaries on the

terms, may easily be imposed on the ignorant, and

the selfish ; by the former they are misunderstood,
by the latter disregarded but to overpower a na
and a doctrine which
tural instinct is a difficult task
:

swallowed when proposed in general terms,

may prove wholly disgustful when applied to a par
is

easily

ticular case.
*

Nam

quia nee fato, merita nee rnorte peribat,

Sed misera ante diem, subitoque accensa furore,
Nondum ille Havum Proserpina vcrtice crinem
JLneid.

Abstulerat.

t Stat sua caique dies

Omnibus

Hoc

est vitct

iv.

69o>

breve et irreparabile tempus

sed faraam extendere factis,

JLneid. x. 467,

virtutis opus.

I agree with Severius (not. in TEneid. x.J that the phi

losophical maxims to be found in poets are not always con
sistent. The reason is plain
Poets imitate the sentiments
of people of different characters, placed in different circum
:

and actuated by different passions j and nobody

expects, that the language or thoughts, suitable to a cer
tain character, placed in certaif? circumstances, and ac
stances,

tuated by certain passions, should be consistent with tliose

of a different character whose circumstances and passions

But I cannot agree with tH at annotator, in

supposing the passage quoted from the fourth book, incon-

are different.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

314
"

The

"

**
"

"

"

*
"

**

ART

II.

Mr

belief of a

destiny," says
Macaulay,
of St Kilda *,
one of the strong.
est articles of this people s creed ; and it will
possibly be found upon examination, that the common

in his history
"

".is

people, in all ages, and in most countries, give into

the same notion.
At St Kilda, fate and providence

much

the same thing.

After having explained

asked
some
of the people there,
terms,
Whether it was in their power to do good and
evil ? The answer made by those who were unacquainted with the systematical doctrines of diviare

t+jess

nity was, That the question was a very childish

one ; as every man alive must be conscious, that
he himself is a free agent."
If it be true, as I be
lieve it is, that the common "people in most countries
are inclined to acknowledge a .destiny or fate ; and if
.it
be also true that they are conscious of their own
free agency notwithstanding ; this alone would con
vince me, though I had never consulted my own experience, that the sentiment of moral liberty is one
of the. strongest of human nature.
For how many
of their vices might they not excuse, if they could
persuade themselves, or others, that these proceed
"

"

"

with what

is
quoted from the 10th j and that the
according to the Epicurean, and the latter ac
In the latter passage,
cording to the Stoical, philosophy.
it is said, that a certain day or time is appointed by fate
in the former, the
for the utmost limit of every man s life

Distent

former

is

very same thing

implied ; only it is said farther, that

Dido died before her time j and there is nothing in the
10th bock that insinuates the impossibility of this. The
is

sentiments contained in these three quotations are confer-,

to Homer s theology, and to one another j and it
deserves our notice, that the first comes from the mouth

mable

oF Juno, the second from the poet or his muse, and the
third from Jupiter himself j whence I infer, that they were
to the poet s creed, or at least to the popular
agreeable
reed of his age*
* P. 243 .

CHAP.

II.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

215

from causes as independent on their will, as those

from which storms, earthquakes, and eclipses, arise
and the temperature of soils and seasons, and the
sound and unsound constitutions of the human body
Such a persuasion, however, we find not that they
have at any time entertained or attempted from
which I think there is good reason to conclude, that
!

it is

not in their power.

There

is no principle in man, religion excepted,

that has produced so great revolutions, and makes
such a figure in the history of the world, as the love

of which indeed all men do not

of political liberty
form the same notion some placing it in the power
of doing what they please, others in the power of
some in being governed by
doing what is lawful
:

laws of their own making, and others in being go

verned by equitable laws, and tried by equitable
but of which it is universally agreed, that
judges
it leaves in our power many of our most important
And yet, say Mr Hf ME and the Fatalists.,
actions.
all
things happen through irresistable necessity, and
there is not in the human mind any idea of any power.
;

that so many, especially among the best,

Strange
the bravest, and the wisest of men, should have been
so passionately enamoured of an inconceivable non
!

as to abandon for its sake, their ease, their

At this rate
health, their fortunes, and their lives
we. are wonderfully mistaken, when we speak of

entity,

Don Quixote as a madman, and of Leonidas, rutus,

Wallace, Hampden,- Paoli, as wise, and good, and
The case it seems is just the reverse ; these
great
heroes deserve no other name than that of raving bed
lamites ; and the illustrious
knight of La Mancha, to
whom the object of his valour was at least a concei ualle pljantom, was a person of excellent understand
ing and most perfect knowledge of the world
Do not all mankind distinguish between mere
harm and injury ? Is there one rational being unac
quainted with this distinction ? If a roan were to act
!

2*6

AN E:SAY ON TROTH.

PART W.

as if he did not comprehend it, would not the world

pronounce him a fool ? And jet this distinction is
perfectly incomprehensible, except we suppose some
beings to act necessarily, and others from free choice.
man gives me a blow, and instantly I feel resent
ment ; but a bystander informs me, that the man is
afflicted with the epilepsy, which deprives him of the
power of managing his limbs that the blow was not
only without design, but contrary to his intention, and
that he could not possibly have prevented it.
My
resentment is gone, though I still feel pain from the
blow.
Can there h any mistake in this experience ?

Can
I

I think that I feel resentment, when in reality

do not feel it ? that I feel no resentment, when I

am

conscious of the contrary ?

And if 1 feel re
in the one case, and not in the other, it is

sentment

certain there seems

between them. But

to

me

to

be some dissimilitude

only in respect of the in

tention of him who gave the blow that there can
be arny dissimilitude ; for all that i learn from the
information by which my resentment was extinguish
ed is, that what I supposed to proceed from an evil
it

is

intention, O did really proceed from no evil intention,

but from the necessary effect of a material cause, in

What shall we say

will had no concern.
then? that the distinction between injury and mere
harm, acknowledged by all mankind, does imply,
that all mankind suppose the actions of moral beings
or shall we say, that resentment, though
to be ree
it arises uniformly in all men on certain occasions,
doesyet proceed from no cause the actions, which
which the

do give rise to it, being in every respect the same

with those, which do not give rise to it ?
Further, all men expect, with full assurance, that
but all men do not with
fire will burn to-morrow
full assurance expect, that a thief will steal to-mor
row, or a miser refuse jn alms to a beggar, or a debuuchee commit an act of intemperance, even though
If I had found on blowing up
opportunities offer.
;

CHAP.

AST ESSAY Otf

If.

TRUTH.

fire this morning, that the flame was cold, an d

converted water into ice, I should have been much
more astonished than if I had detected a man reputed
The
honest in the commission of an act of theft.

my

would

call a prodigy, a contradiction to the

of the latter I shonid say,
of natnre
that I am sorry for it, and could never have expected
it ; but I should not suppose any prodigy in the case.
All general rules, that regard the influence of hurmtii
characters on human actions, admit of exceptions 5
Ice
but the general laws of matter admit of none.
was cold, and fire hot, ever since the creation ; hst
ice, and cold fire, are, according to the present con
but that a man
stitution of the world, impossible
should steal to-day, who never stole before, is no im
The .coldness of the flame I should
possibility at all.
doubtless think owing to some cause, and the dis
honesty o-f the man to some strange revolution in his
but I never could bring
sentiments and principles
myself to think the man as passive, in regard to
this revolution, as the fire must be supposed to be
in regard to the cause by which its nature is changed.
The man has done what he ought not to have done,

former

known laws

.what he might have prevented, and what he deserves

this is the lan
punishment for not preventing
but the fire is wholly
guage of all rational beings
;

Who

unconscious and inert.

will say that there is
the same necessity in both cases
Fatalists are fond of inferring moral necessity
from physical, in the way of analogy. But some of
their arguments on this topic are most
ridiculously
!

absurd.

There

says Voltaire s Ignorant

without
a cause.
An effect
Philosopher,
nothing
without a cause are words without meaning.
Every time I have a will,, this can only be in conse"

is,"

"

"

"

"quence

of my judgment good or bad; this judgment is

therefore sois my will
All this hath
"

"necessary;

been said by others but what follows

peculiar to this Ignorant Phifosopler.
:

is, I
"

believe,
In effect^ 3

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

2l8

PART

21.

continues he,
it would l?e very
singular, that all
nature, all the planets, should obey eternal laws,
**
and that there should be a little animal, five feet
**
high, who, in contempt of these, laws, could act as
"

"

he pleased, solely according to his caprice."

Sin
So very singular, that
gular aye singular indeed.
yours, Sir, if I mistake not, is the first human brain
that ever conceived such a notion.
If man be free,
dreamed
ever
that
he
made
himself so in
nobody
contempt of the laws of nature ; it is in consequence
of a law of nature that he is a free agent.
But
passing this, let us attend to the
reasoning.
The planets are not free agents ;
therefore itwould be very singular, that man should be one.
Not a whit more singular, than that this same ani
mal of five feet should perceive, and think, and read,
and write and speak ; which no astronomer of my
acquaintance has ever supposed to belong jto the piane^s, notwithstanding their brilliant appearance, and
do too much honour
stupendous magnitude*.
!

We

Mr

Voltaire has often laboured, with more zeal than

success, to prove, amongst other strange doctrines, that

What if 1
Shakespeare and Milton were no great poets.
should here help him to an argument as decisive on that
point as any he has yet invented, and framed exactly ac
cording to the rules of his own logic, as exemplified in the
before us ?
The EngL sh say, that Shake Now it is well
and
were
Milton
great poets.
speare
known, that neither Plinliniinon in Wales, nor Mealfourvouny in Scotland, neither Lebanon in Syria, nor Atlas
in Mauritanio, ever wrote one good verse in their days ;
and yet each of these mountains exceeds in corporeal
magnitude ten thousand Miltons and as many ShakeBut it would be very singular, that masses of
speares.
so great distinction should never have been able to put
pen to paper with any success, and yet that no fewer
than two pieces of English flesh and blood, scarce six
feet long, should in contempt of nature and all her la\vs,

passage
"

"

"

"

"

"

**
"

"

"

"

now

"

have penned poems

"

tion

"

"that

are entitled to general admira-

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

If.

when we

to such reasoning,

reply to
but sublime words of a great genius

Know

it

219

in

the bold

th* importance of a soul immortal ?

midnight glory, worlds on worlds ?
Amazing pomp redouble this amaze ;
Ten thousand add and twice ten thousand more ;
Then weigh the whole ONE SOUL out weights them

Behold

st

thou

this

And calls, th* astonishing magnificence

[all,
Of unintelligent creation poor. Complaint Night 7.
,

Mr HUME,

an essay on this subject, maintains,

that the appearances in the moral and material world
are equally uniform, and equally necessary ; nay, and
acknowledged to be so, both by philosophers and by
In proof of this, he prudently confines
the vulgar.
himself to general topics, on which he declaims with
some plausibility. Had he descended to particular
instances, as we have clone, the fallacy of his reason
Human nature
ing would have appeared at once.
True. For
has been nearly the same in all ages.
all men possess nearly the same faculties, which are
employed about nearly the same objects, and destin
And
ed to operate within the same narrow sphere.
if a man have power to chuse one of two
things, to
act or not to act, he has all the liberty we contend
in

How is it possible, then, that human nature,

taken in the gross, should not be found nearly the
same in all ages But if we come to particulars, we
shall not perhaps find two human minds exactly aIn two of the most congenial characters on
like.
earth the same causes will not produce the same
effects ; nay, the same causes- will not always pro
duce the same effects even in the same character.
Some Fatalists deny, that our internal feelings are
in favour of moral liberty.
It is true," says a
worthy and ingenuous, tho fanciful, author, that
for.

"

"

"

"

"

4<

man by

internal feeling may prove his own free

will, if by free will be meant the power of doing
what a man wills, or desires ; or of resisting- the
a

motives of sensuality, ambition^ &.c. that

is

free

A2f ESSAT

220
"

ON TRUTH.

PART

will in the popular and practical sense.

II.

Every

person may eaviy recollect instances, where he has

done these several things.
But these are intirely
to
the
To prove that
present
foreign
question.
a man has free-will in the sense opposite to mechanisrn, he ought to feel, that he can do different
**
things wJiile the motives remain precisely the same,
And here I apprehend the internal feelings are intirely against free-will, where the motives arc of
a sufficient magnitude to be evident
where they
*
are not, nothing can be proved
Questions of
this kind would be more easily solved, if author s

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

*.""

their doctrine by examples.

When
not done, we cannot always be sure that we
understand their meaning, especially in abstract sub
jects, where language, after all our care, is often eIf I rightly understand
quivocal and inadequate.
this author, and am allowed to examine his principles
by my o%n experience, I must conclude, that he very
much mistakes the fact. Let us take an example.
man is tempted to the commission of a crime
his motive to commit, is the love of money, or the
his motive to abstain, is a
gratification of appetite
Suppose him to
regard to duty, or to reputation.
in
motives
his
for
an
these
mind,
hour, a day,
.weigh
or a week ; and suppose, that during this space, no
additional consideration occurs to him on either side:
which, I think, may be supposed, because I know it

would explain
this

is

While his
possible, and 1 believe often happens.
mind is in this state, the motives remain precisely the
same and yet it is to me inconceivable, that he should

is

any time, during this space, feel himself under a

necessity of committing, or under a necessity of not
He is indeed under a neces
committing the crime.
at

either to do, or not to do but e^ery man, in

such a case, feels that he has it in his power to chuse
At least, in all my experience
the one or the other.
:

sity

Hartley

Observations on man, vol.

1.

p.

507,

CHAP.

Att

II.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

22T

I have never been conscious, nor had any reason to

believe, that other men were conscious, of any such
necessity as the author here speaks of.
Again Suppose two men in the circumstances
above-mentioned, to yield to the temptation, and to
be differently affected by a review of their conduct ;
the one repining at fortune, or fate, or providence,
:

him in too tempting a

him by motives too powerful

for having placed

and

solicited

sisted

situation,
to be re

the other blaming and upbraiding himself

for yielding to the bad motive, and resisting the

I would ask,
hich of these two kinds of
good:
remorse or regret is the most rational ? 7"he first,
.

according to the doctrine of the Fatalists ; the last,

No
according to the universal opinion of mankind.
divine, no moralist, no man of sense, ever supposes
true penitence to begin, till the criminal become con
scious, that he has done, or neglected, something
which he ought not to have done or neglected a
sentiment which would be not only absurd, but im
possible, if all criminals and guilty persons believed,
from internal feeling, that what is done could not
have been preren ed. Whenever you cas satisfy a
man of this, he may continue to bewail himself or
repine at fortune ; but his repentance is at an end.
It is always a part, and too often the whole, of the
I wish the deed had never
language of remorse
4
been done: wretch that I was, not to resist the tefnptation
Docs this imply, that the penitent sup
himself
to have been under a necessity of com
poses
mitting the action, and that his conduct could not
:

"

"

!"

possibly have been different from what it is ? To me

seems to imply just the contrary. And am not I
a competent judge of this matter ? Have not I been
in these circumstances ? Has not this been often the
language of my soul ? And will any man pretend to

it

say, that I do not

know my own

thoughts, or that

he knows them better than I ?

All men, inde d f
have but too frequent esiperience of at least this part
-

AK ESSAY ON TRUTH.

222
of repentance

then

why

PART

multiply words,

II,

when by

facts it is so easy to determine the controversy ?

Other Fatalists acknowledge, that the free agency

of man is universally felt and believed

That tho
man in truth is a necessary agent, having all his ac
:

fixed and immutable laws ;

yet,
from him, he acts with the con
viction of being a free agent *.
Concealed from
him Who conceals it ? Does the author of nature
and do these writers discover it
conceal it,
What
deference is not due to the judgment of a metaphy
sician, whose sagacity is so irresistably (I^liad al

tions determined

by

this being concealed

most
men,

said omnipotently) penetrating

But, gentle
as ye are powerful, ye should have been mer
!

ciful.

crumb

It was not kind to rob poor mortals of this

of comfort which had been provided for them

in tiieir ignorance ; nor generous to publish so open

ly the secrets of Heaven, and thus baffle the designs
In
of Providence by a few strokes of your pen
!

truth, rner.aphysic is a perplexing affair to the pas

times it is
sions, as well as to the judgment.

Some

so absurd^ that not to be merry is impossible ; and

sometimes so impious, that not to be angry were un
but often it partakes so much of both
pardonable
:

that one
Dualities,
mind to consider it
o
"

"

To laugh,
And to be

But why

not with what temper of

were want of goodness, and of grace

grave, exceeds all power of face."

long on the universal acknow

agency ? To me it is as evi
believe themselves free, as that

insist so

ledgment of man
dent, that all

men

* In the former

free

edition of this Essay, a particular

But

book

have lately heard,

a second, edition of that book, which, however, I

was here
that in

knows
:

specified and quoted.

have not yet

by which he
passage.

seen, the author has made sorce alterations,

in thf?
gets clear of the absurdity exposed

CILvI*.

AK ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

223

I judge of
I cannot see the heart
beha
their
from
outward
others
of
the sentiments
viour ; from the highest to the lowest, as far as
can carry me, I find the con
history and experience
duct of human beings similar in this respect to my
own and of my own free agency I have never yet
Here then
been able to entertain the least doubt.
*
we have an instance of a doctrine advanced by
some philosophers, in direct contradiction to the

all

men

think.

"

"

This is a
of all men in all ages."
general belief
the
first remark formerly made oa the
of
repetition
non-existence of matter.
The rea2. The second was to this purpose
*

"

soning by which this doctrine is supported, tho*

long accounted unanswerable, did never produce a
**
serious and steady conviction ; common sense still
declared it to be false ; we were sorry to find the
*
powers of human reason so limited as not to afford a logical confutation of it ; we were convin**
ced it merited confutation, and nattered ourselves
that one time or other it would be confuted."
I shall here take it for granted, that the scheme of
necessity has not as yet been fully confuted ; and on
this supposition (which the Fatalists can hardly fail

"

"

"

"

acknowledge a fair one) I would ask, whether die

remark just now quoted be applicable to the reason
ings urged in behalf of that scheme ? My experience
After giving the advocates for ne
tells me, it is.
cessity a fair hearing, my belief is exactly the same
to

as before.

am puzzled

perhaps, but not convin

In reading some
ced, no not in the least degree.
late essays on this subject, I find many things allow
ed to pass without scruple, which I cannot admit :

and when

whether

am a free or a necessary agent, nature re

me so irresistibly, that the investigation I

have got to the end, and ask myself,

curs upon
have just finished seems (as Shakespea

the fierce vexation of a

e says)

"

like

dream," which, while it

lasted, had some resemblance of reality, but now,
"

224

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II.

when

it is
gone, appears to have been altogether a
delusion.
This is prejudice, you say ; be it so.
Before the confutation of BEKKELEY S system,

would

it have been called

prejudice not to be convin
ced by his arguments?
I know not but it
might ;
but I am sure, that of such prejudice no honest man,
nor lover of truth, needs be ashamed. I confess,
that when I enter upon the controversy in question,
I am not wholly indifferent ; I am a little biassed in
favour of common sense, and I cannot help it yet
:

reasoning were conclusive, I am confident it

would breed in my mind some suspicion, that my
sentiment of moral liberty is ambiguous.
As I ex
perience nothing of this kind, my conviction remain
ing the same as before, what must I infer? Surely
1 must infer, and I sin against my own understand
ing if I do not infer, that though the reasoning be
if the

subtle, the doctrine is .absurd.

But what if a man be really convinced
reasoning, that he is a necessary agent ?

by that
Then I

expect he will think and act according to his

If he continue to act and think as
conviction.
he did before, and as I and the rest of the

world do now, he must parden me if I should sus

pect his conviction to be insincere. For let it be ob
served, that the Fatalists are net satisfied with call
ing their doctrine probable ; they affirm, that it is
certain, and rests on evidence not inferior to demon
stration.
If, therefore, it convince at all, it must

convince thoroughly. Between rejecting it as utter

there is
ly false, and receiving it as undeniably true,
medium to a considerate person. And let it be

observed further, that the changes which the real

belief of fatality must produce in the conduct and
sentiments of men, are not slight and imperceptible ;
but, as will appear after v. avds, important and strik
If you say, that the instincts of ycur nature,
the customs of the world, and the force of human

ing.

laws, oblige

you to

act like free agents,

you acknov -

CHAP.

II.

ledge fatality to

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
be contrary to nature and

225

common

which is the point I want to prove.

;
Clay is not more obsequious to the potter, than
words to the skilful disputant. They may be made
to assume almost any form, to enforce almost any
So true it is, that much may be said on
doctrine.
either side of most questions, that we have known
dealers in controversy, who were always of the same
mind with the author whom they read last. V/e have
seen theories of morality deduced from pride, from
sympathy, from self-love, from benevolence ; and
all so plausible, as would surprise one who is unac
quainted with the ambiguities of language. Of these
sense

the advocates for simple truth are less careful to avaii themselves, than their paradoxical antagonists.
The arguments of the former, being more obvious,

stand less in need of illustration

those of the

lat

ter require all the embellishments of eloquence and

refinement to recommend them. Robbers seldom go-

abroad without arms ; they examine every corner

and countenance with a penetrating eye, which habi
tual distrust and circumspection have rendered in
the honest man walks carelessly
tensely sagacious
about his business, intending no harm, and suspect
It cannot be denied, that philosophers
ing none.
do often, in the use of words, impose on themselves
an ambiguous word
as well as on others
slipping in
:

perplex a whole subject, to

the equal surprise of both parties ; and perhaps, in
a long course of years, the cause of this
perplexity
shall not be discovered.
This was never more re
about
markably the case, than in the

by

accident will often

controversy
the existence of matter } and this no doubt is one
great hinderance to the utter confutation of the doc
trine of necessity.
Fatalists indeed, make a stir, and
seem much in earnest about settling the significa
tion of the words
but
words beget words," as
Bacon well observeth j and it cannot be expected,
*

226

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II.

that they who are interested in

supporting a system
will be scrupulously impartial in their definitions.
With a few of these, a theorist commonly begins
his system.
This has the appearance of fairness

and perspicuity.

We

hold it for a maxim, that a

use words in any sense he pleases, provid
ed he explain the sense in which he uses them ; and
we think it captious, to find fault with words.
therefore are easily prevailed on to admit his defini

man may

We

which are generally plausible, and not appa

But
rently repugnant to the analogy of language.
tions,

the understanding of the author when he writes, and

that of the student when he reads them, are in very
different circumstances. The former knows his sys

tem already, and adapts

his definitions to

ter is ignorant of the system,

it

the lat

and therefore can have

no notion of the tendency of the definitions. Besides,

every system is in some degree obscure to one who
is but beginning to study it ; and this obscurity
serves to disguise whatever in the preliminary illus

Thus the mind of

trations is forced or inexplicit.
the most candid and most attentive reader is prepar
ed for the reception of error, long before he has any
suspicion of the author s real design. And then, the
more he is accustomed to use words in a certain sig
nification, the more he is disposed to think it natur
al ; so that the further he advances in the system,
Need we
lie is still more and more reconciled to it.
wonder then at the variety of moral systems? need we
wonder to see a man s judgment so easily, and often so
? need we
egregiously, misled, by abstract reasoning
a toleihas
who
of
at
the
success
wonder
any theorist,
able command of language, and a moderate share of
cunning, provided his system be well-timed, and adap
ted to the manners and principles of his age ? Neither
need we wonder to see the grossest and most detestable
absurdities recommended by singular plausibility of
a time impose even
argument, and such as may for

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

CHAP. II.

227

when
intelligent and segacious ; till at last,
the author s design becomes manifest, common sense
recourse to their in
begins to operate, and men have
stinctive and intuitive sentiments, as the most effec

on the

tual security against the assaults of the logician.

Further, previous to all influence from habit

and

education, the intellectual abilities of different men

are verj different in respect of reasoning, as well as
Some men, sagacious enough in
of common sense.
perceiving truth, are but ill qualified to reason a-

bout it ; while others, not superior in common sense,

or intuitive sagacity, are much more dextrous in de
If you propose a
vising and confuting arguments.
sophism to the latter, you are at once contradicted
and confuted the former, though they cannot con
fute you, are perhaps equally sensible of your false
doctrine, and unfair reasoning ; they know, that
what you say is not true, though they cannot tell in
:

what respect it
them

to enable

is

false.

Perhaps

all

that

is

wanting

confute, as well as contradict, is

practice in speaking and wrangling but
to

only a little
surely this affects not the truth or falsehood of pro
What is false is as really so to the per
positions.
son who perceives its falsity, without being able to
prove it, as to him who both perceives and proves ;
and it is equally false, before I learn logic, and after.
Is it not therefore highly unreasonable to expect
:

conviction from every antagonist who cannot confute

you, and to ascribe to prejudice what i& owing tothe irresistible impulse of unerring nature ?
I have conversed with many people of sense on the
subject of this controversy concerning liberty and ne
To the greater part, the arguments of
cessity.
Clarke and others, in vindication of liberty, seemed

quite satisfying ; others owned themselves puzzled

with the subtleties of those who took the opposite
side of the question ; some reposed with full assur

ance on that consciousness of liberty -which every,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

228

man

feels in his

own

breast

in a

PART

word,

as far as

II.

my

experience goes, I have found all the impartial, the

most sagacious, and most virtuous, part of man
kind, enemies to fatality in their hearts ; willing to
consider the arguments for it as rather specious
than solid ; and disposed to receive, with joy and
thankfulness, a thorough vindication of human li
berty, and a logical confutation of the opposite doc
trine.

3. It has been said, That philosophers are an

swerable, not for the consequences, but only for the
truth of their tenets ; and that, if a doctrine be true,
its being attended with disagreeable consequences will
not render it false.
readily acquiesce in this re
mark ; but we imagine it cannot be meant of any
truth but what is certain and incontrovertible,
No
genuine truth did ever of itself produce effects in

We

consistent with real utility *.

pass for truth, which are far

But many

principles
that

from deserving

Some give it to all doc

honourable appellation.
trines which have been defended with subtlety, and
which, whether seriously believed or not, have never
But to affirm, that all
been logically confuted.

mch
the

doctrines

are

certainly

true,

most contemptible ignorance of

guage, and

human

nature.

It

is

would

human

argue
lan

therefore absurd

say, that the bad consequences of admitting

such doctrines ought not to be urged as arguments

to

against

them

Now,

there are

many

persons in the

world, of most respectable understanding, who would

be extremely averse to acknowledge, that the doc
trine of necessity has ever been demonstrated beyond
all possibility of doubt.
I may therefore be per
mitted to consider it as a controvertible tenet, and to
expose the absurdities and dangerous consequences
\vith which the belief of it may, and must be at
tended.

Marc. Anton! n.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

Mr HUME

endeavours to raise a prejudice against

refutation. He probably foresaw, that
the tendency of his principles would be urged as an ar
gument against them ; and being somewhat apprehen
sive of the consequences, as well he might, he insinu
ates, that all such reasoning is no better than pe; son^l
There is no method of reasoning," says
invective.
more common, and yet none more biameable,
he,
*
than in philosophical debates to endeavour the re-

method of

this

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

any hypothesis, by a pretence of its

to religion and
consequences
dangerous
morality.
When any opinion leads into absurdities, it is certainly false ; but it is not certain that an opinion
is false, because it is of dangerous consequence.
filiation of

Such topics therefore ought entirely

to

be forborne,
but

as serving nothing to the discovery of truth,

only to make the person of an antagonist odious

*."

your philosophy be such, that its consequences

cannot be unfolded without rendering your person
odious, pray, Mr HUME, who is to blame ? you, who
contrive and publish it or I, who criticise it ? There
If

a kind of philosophy so salutary in its effects, as

to endear the person of the author to every good

is

man

not yours of this kind ? If it is not, as

to apprehend, do you think, that
I ought to applaud your principles, or suffer them to
pass unexamined, even though I am certain of their
pernicious tendency ? or that, out of respect to your
person, I ought not to put others on their guard against them ? Surely you cannot be so blinded by
self-admiration, as to think it the duty of a-y man
to sacrifice the interest of mankind to your interest,
or rather to your reputation as a metaphysical writer.
If you do think so, I must take the liberty to differ
:

why

is

you yourself seem

from your judgment

in this, as in

many other mat

ters.

Essay on Liberty and Necessity, part 2,

AN ESSAY OX TRUTH.

23

PART

II.

Nor

can 1 agree to what our author says of this

method of reasoning, that it tends nothing to the dis
covery of truth. Does not every thing tend to the
discovery of truth, that disposes men to think for
themselves, and to consider opinions with attention,
before they adopt them ? And have not many well-

meaning persons rashly adopted a plausible opinion

en the supposition of its being harmless, who, if they
had been aware of its bad tendency, would have pro
ceeded with more caution, and made a better use of
their understanding ?
This is truly a notable expedient for determining
controversy in favour of licentious theories.
author publishes a book, in which are many doctrines

An

fatal to

human

happiness, and subversive of

human

from a regard to truth, and to mankind,

we endeavour to expose them in their proper colours,
and, by displaying their dangerous and absurd conse
quences, to deter men from rashly adopting them
without examination ; our adversary immediately
This is not fair reasoning this is per-exclaims,
society.

If,

"

"

sonal

Were

invective."

the sentiments of the

public to be regulated by this exclamation, licentious

writers might do what mischief they pleased, and
no man durst appear in opposition, without being*
It is happy for
hooted at for his want of breeding.
us all, that the law is not to be browbeaten by in
sinuations of this kind ; otherwise we should hear
some folks exclaim against it every day, as one of the
most ungenteel things in the world. And truly they
would have reason for it cannot be denied, that an
indictment at the Old Bailey has much the air of a per
sonal invective ; and banishment, or burning in the
:

hand, amounts nearly to a personal assault ; nay, both

this express end, to make the person cf
the criminal odious and yet in his judgment perhaps,
there was no great harm in picking a pocket of a
handkei chief, value thirteen-pence, provided it was
done with a good grace, Let not the majesty of

have often

UHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

23!

science be offended by this allusion ; 1 mean not to

argue from it, for it is not quite similar to the case
That those men act the part of good citi
in hand.

who endeavour to overturn the plainest

human knowledge, and to subvert the
dations of all religion, I am far from thinking
zens,

ciples of

prin
foun
but I

should be exfremely sorry to see any other weapons

employed against them than those of reason and ri
Other wea
dicule, chastised by decency and truth.
pons this cause requires not j nay, in this cause, all
other weapons would do more harm than good. And
let it still be remembered, that the object of our
strictures is not men, but books ; and that these
incur our censure, not because they bear certain
names, but because they contain certain- prin
ciples.

These remarks relate rather to the doctrines of

scepticism in general, than to this of necessity in
particular ; which I am not ignorant that many men,,
respectable both for their talents and principles, have
asserted.
I presume, however, they would have
been more cautious if they had attended to the conse
To which I now
quences that may be drawn from it.
return.
Some of the Fatalists are willing to reconcile their
system with our natural notions of moral good and
evil ; but all they have been able to do is, to remove
the difficulty a step or two further off.
But the
most considerable of that party are not solicitous to
render these points consistent.
If they can only es~
tablish necessity, they leave natural
religion to shift
for itself.

Mr HUME

his principles

in particular affirms,

that

on

impossible for natural reason to

vindicate the character of the
Deity *. Had thisauthor been possessed of one
grain of that modesty
which he recommends in the conclusion of his essay
had he thought it worth his while to sacrifice a little
pittance of ignominious applause to the happiness of
it is

;..

Essay on Liberty and Necessity, sub.

Jin.

232

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II.

human kind ; he would have shuddered at the thought

of inculcating a doctrine which he knew to be irreconcileable with this great first principle of
religion ;
and of which, therefore, he must have known, that it
tended to overturn the only durable foundation of

human
The

society and human happiness.

advocates for liberty, on the other hand, have
universally espoused the cause of virtue, and zeal
ously asserted the infinite wisdom and purity of the
divine nature.
Now, I confess, that this very con

notion of things, a
is, according to
strong argument in favour of the last mentioned doc
Here are two opinions ; the one inconsistent
trine.
with the first principles of natural religion, as some
of those who maintain it acknowledge, a-s well as with
the experience, the belief, and the practice, of the ge
nerality of rational beings ; the other perfectly con

my

sideration

sistent with religion, conscience, and common sense*

If the reader believe, ivith me, that the Deity is in
finitely good and wise, he cannot balance a moment
between them nor hesitate to affirm, that the uni
versal belief of the former would produce much mis
chief and misery to mankind.
If he be prepossessed
in favour of fatality, he ought, however, before he
;

acquiesce in it as true, to be well assured, that the

evidences of natural religion, particularly of the di
vine existence and attributes, are weaker than the
proofs that have been urged in behalf of necessity.
But will any one say, that this doctrine admits of a
proof, as unexceptionable as that by which we evince

the being and attributes of God ? I appeal to his

own heart, I appeal to the experience and conscious
are you as thoroughly con
ness of mankind ;
vinced, that no past action of your life could possibly
have been prevented, and that no future action can
possibly be contingent, as that God is infinitely wise,
Examine the evidence of
powerful, and good ?
"both
examine
with candour the instinc
propositions,,
and then tell
tive suggestions of your own mind j

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

me, whether you

find

atheism or

man

235
moral liberty

hardest to be believed.
that the belief of moral
Perhaps I shall be told,
for that,
difficulties
liberty is attended with equal
of
human
with
actions
the
reconcile
to
contingency
the prescience of God, is as impossible, as to recon
Ocile necessity with his goodness and wisdom.
;

thers have answered this objection at length ; I make

i. As it
the r efore only two brief remarks upon it.
on
the divine power, to sayreflection
not
any
implies
that it cannot perform impossibilities ; so neither, I

presume, does

it

reflection on his

imply any

know

he cannot foresee as certain, what

ledge, to say, that
Yet he
is really not certain, but only contingent.
sees all possible effects of all possible causes j and
our freedom to chuse good or evil can no more be

conceived to interfere with the final purposes of his

our power of moving our limbs is
providence, than
inconsistent with our inability to remove mountains.
2. No man will take it upon him to say, that he dis
the manner in which the Deitytinctly understands
but the incomprehensiacts, perceives, and knows
bleness of his nature will never induce men to doubt
his existence and attributes, unless there be men who
fancy themselves infallible, and of infinite capacity.
Shall I then conclude, because 1 cannot fully com
:

prehend the manner in which the divine prescience

the
operates, that therefore
perfect ? or that, therefore,

is not
infinitely
cannot be certain of

Deity
I

the truth of a sentiment which is warranted by my

constant experience, and by that of all mankind ?
Shall I say, that because my knowledge is not infinite, therefore I hr.ve no knowledge ? Because I know
not when I shall die, does it follow, that 1 cannot be

being now alive ? Because God has

every thing-, shall 1 refuse to believe
what he has told me ? To draw such a conclusion
from such premises is in my judgment, as contrary
to reason, as to say, that, because I am ignorant of

certain of

not told

my

me

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

Jl,

the cause of magnetical attraction, therefore 1

ought
not to believe that the needle points to the north.
-

I am a free agent, I know and believe

that
;
foresees whatever can be foreseen, as he can do

That

God

whatever can be done, I also know and believe nor

have the Fatalists ever proved, nor can they ever
:

prove, that the one belief is inconsistent with the other*

The asserters of human liberty have always
maintained, that to believe all actions and inte nthe same thing as to believe that
accountable being, or, in other
And indeed this notion is
words, no moral agent.
natural to every person who has the
courage to trust
lions necessary,

man

is

not

is

an

his own experience, without

seeking to puzzle plain
matter of fact with verbal distinctions and
metaphy
sical refinement.
But, it is said, the sense of moral
beauty and turpitude still remains with us, even af
ter we are convinced that all actions and intentions
are necessary ; that this sense maketh us moral agents ; and therefore, that our moral agency is per
But
fectly consistent with our necessary agency.
this is nothing to the purpose ; it is putting us off
with mere words. For what is moral agency, and
what is implied in it ? This at least must be implied
:;i it, that we
ought to do some things, and not to
do ot>-ers. But if every intention and action of my
life is fixed by eternal laws, which I can neither elude nor alter, it is as absurd to say to me, You
ought to be honest to-morrow, as to say, You ought
Un
to stop the motion of the planets to-morrow.
less some events depend upon my determination,

aught, and ought not, have no meaning when appli

Moral agency further implies, that we
ed to me.
are accountable for our conduct ; and that if we do
what we ought not to do, we deserve blame and
conscience tells me, that I am ac
punishment.
countable for those actions only that are in my own
power ; and neither blames nor approves, in myself
or in others, that conduct which is the effect, not of

My

CHAF.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

2J5

Convince me, that all my

actions are equally necessary, and you silence my
conscience for ever, or at least prove it to be a falla
cious and impertinent monitor: you will then convince
me, that all circumspection is unnecessary, and all
And is it a matter of little mo
remorse absurd.
ment, whether I believe my moral feelings authentic
and true, or equivocal and fallacious ? Can any prin
ciple be of more fatal consequence to me, or to socie
choice, but of necessity.

ty, than to believe, that the dictates

of conscience are

unreasonable, or insignificant ? Yet this is one

certain effect of my becoming a Fatalist, or even
sceptical in regard to moral liberty.
I observe, that when a man s understanding begins
to be so far perverted by debauchery, as to make
him imagine his crimes unavoidable, from that mo
ment he begins to think them innocent, and deems it
a sufficient apology, that in respect of them he is no
false,

The drunkard
longer a free but a necessary agent.
pleads his constitution, the blasphemer urges the in
vincible force of habit, and the sensualist would have
us believe, that his appetites are too strong to be
resisted.
Suppose all men so far perverted as to
in
the
same manner with regard to crimes of
argue
then it is certain, that all men would
every kind
be equally disposed to think all crimes innocent.
And what would be the consequence ? Licentiousness,
misery, and desolation, irremediable and universal.
If God intended that men should be
happy, and that
the human race should continue for many genera
tions, he certainly intended also that men should be
lieve themselves free, moral, and accountable crea
;

tures.

Supposing

it

possible for a

man

to act

upon the

belief of his being a necessary

agent, let us see how
he would behave in some of the common affairs of

He does me an injury. I go to him and re

monstrate. You will excuse me, says he ; I was put

life.

upon

it

b/ one on

whom

am

dependent, and

who

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

236

PART

II.

me

with beggary and perdition if I refus

I acknowledge this to be a consider
able alleviation of the poor man s guilt.
Next day
he repeats the injury and, on my renewing my re
monstrances, Truly, says he, I was offered sixpence to
do it or I did it to please my humour but I know
threatened

ed to comply.

you
you, that as all mo
tives are the necessary causes of the actions that pro
ceed from them, it follows, that all motives produc
will

pardon me, when

tive of the

same

I tell

action are irresistible, and therefore,

in respect of the agent,

equally strong
fore as innocent now as I was formerly

am

there

for the

e-

vent has proved, that the motive arising from the of

fer of sixpence, or from the impulse of whim, was
as effectual in producing the action w hich you call
an injury, as the motive arising from the fear of
ruin. Notwithstanding this fine speech, I should be
afraid, that these principles, if persisted in, and act
ed upon, wT ould soon bring the poor Fatalist to Ty
burn or Bedlam.
Will you promise to assist me to-morrow with
7

?
No, says the prac
for my con
nothing
promise
duct to-morrow will certainly be determined by the
motive that then happens to predominate. Let your
How can you be
promise, say I, be your motive.
so ignorant, he replies, as to imagine that our motives

your labour, advice, or

tical Fatalist

interest

I can

own power O sad, O sad you

must study metaphysic, indeed you must.
Why,
Sir, our motives to action are obtruded upon us by
to action are in our

Perhaps they arise immedi

if you
from
some
passion, judgment, fancy, or,
ately

Irresistible necessity.

please, volition

or passion

what

but

this-

is it ?

volition, fancy, judgment-,

an effect without a cause ?

ob
it is
;
necessarily excited by some idea,
itself independently
or
which
nation,
presents
ject,
on me, and in consequence of some extrinsic cause,
the operation cf which I can neither foresee nor pre-

No, no

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

vent

Where

is

the

237

man who would chuse

this fa

friend, companion, or fellow-citizen ?

will say, that society could at all subsist, if the
generality of mankind were to think, and speak, and

talist for his

who
act

upon such principles

is it not easy to imagine

which the men who helieves themselves free,
would act the part of fools or knaves ? Nothing in
Bat let it be observed, that the
deed is more easy.
folly or knavery of such mer,, arises, not from their

But, says the Fatalist,

cases in

persuasion of their own free agency, for many mil

of this persuasion have passed through life
with a fair character, but from other causes.
I can
not conceive any greater discouragement from kna
very and folly, than the consideration that man is an
accountable being ; and I know not how we can sup
lions

pose him accountable, unless we suppose him free.

The obvious tendency of our principles is therefore
to deter men from knavery and
whereas it is
folly
;

impossible for a Fatalist to act -upon his own princi

ples for one day, without rendering himself ridicu
lous or detestable.

The reader, if disposed to pursue these hints, ard

attend, in imagination, to the behaviour of the prac
tical fatalist in the more
interesting scenes of pii:,iic
and private life, may entertain himself with a series
of adventures, more ludicrous, or at least more irra
tional, than any of those for which the
of La

Mancha

is

celebrated.

presume

"

knight
have said e-

to satisfy every impartial mind,

That the
real and general belief of
necessity would be attended with fatal consequences to science, and to

nough
"

"

human nature
which is a repetition of the third
remark we formerly made on the doctrine of the nonexistence of body *.
And now we have proved, that if there was
any
"

;"

reason for rejecting Berkeley

doctrine as absurd,

U_2

* See the end of the

preceding

section.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH*

238
and contrary

FART

II.

common

sense, before his arguments

from the abuse of words, there
is at present the same reason for
rejecting the doc
trine of necessity, even on the supposition that it
hath not as jet been logically confuted.
Both doc
trines are repugnant to the general belief of mankind

were shewn

to

to arise

both, notwithstanding all the efforts of the subtlest

both are so contrary
sophistry, are still incredible
to nature, and to the condition of human beings, that
they cannot be carried into practice ; and so contra
ry to true philosophy, that they cannot be admitted
:

into science, without bringing scepticism along with

them, and rendering questionable the plainest princi
ples of moral truth, and the very distinction between

In a word, we have proved,

it teacheth us to believe and
be assured of the existence of matter, doth also teach
us to believe and be assured, that man is a free atruth and falsehood.

that

common

sense, as

gent.

from our present purpose,

argument
for necessity. Our design is only to explain by what
marks one may distinguish the principles of common
sense, that is, intuitive, or self-evident notions, from
those deceitful and inveterate opinions that have some
times assumed the same appearance. If 1 have satisfied
It

would

to enter

lead us too far

upon

a logical examination of the

the reader, that the free agency of men is a self-evi

dent fact, I have also satisfied him, that all reasoning
on the side of necessity, tho accounted unanswera
to all con
ble, is, in its very nature, and previously
and
and
absurd
irrational,
contrary to the
futation,
all true philosophers.
of
and
principles
practice
Let not the friends of liberty be discouraged by
the perplexing arguments of thi Fatalist *.
Argu-

* There

may not

is no subject on which doubts and difficulties

be started by ingenious and disputatious men and
from the number of their objections, and the
:

therefore,

to which they give occasion,

length of the controversy

v,

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

ments

in opposition to self-evident truth, must, if

Think what method of
plausible, be perplexing.
must
man
a
pursue, who sets himself
argumentation
axiom in geometry, or to argue against
to confute

any

the existence of a sentiment,

by

all

mankind.

Indeed

acknowledged and

cannot see

felt

how such a

person should ever impose upon people of sense, ex

cept by availing himself of expressions, which either
are in themselves ambiguous, or become so by his
manner of applying them. If the ambiguity be disif there
cernable, the argument can have no force
be no suspicion of ambiguity, the dispute may be
continued from generation to generation, without
working any change in the sentiments of either party.
When fact is disregarded, when intuition goes for no
thing, when no standard of truth is acknowledged,
and every unanswered argument is deemed unan
swerable, true reasoning is at an end j and the dis
putant, having long ago lost sight of common sense,
is so far from
regaining the path of truth, that, like
Thomson s peasant bewildered in the snow, he con
tinues
to wander on still more and more astray."
l any person will give himself the trouble to exa
;

"

mine the whole controversy concerning liberty and

necessity, he will find, that the arguments on both

come

there is
appear unanswerable
by both parties,
to which an appeal can be made, and each party
Is it
charges the other with begging the question.
not then better to rest satisfied with the simple feelsides

no

common

at last to

principle acknowledged

cannot, in any case, conclude, that the original evidence is

Were
weak, or even that it is not obvious and
striking.

we to

presume, that every principle is dubious against which

specious objections may be contrived, \ve should be quickly

led into universal scepticism. The two ways in which the

ingenuity of speculative men has been most commonly- em
ployed, are dogmatical assertions of doubtful opinions, awd
subtle cavils against certain truths.

Gerard

Diss^rl-aitcns^

ii. ,4,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

240

PART

II.

ing of the understanding ? I feel that it is in my

power to will or not to will all you can say about
the influence of motives will never convince me of
the contrary ; or if I should say that I am convinced
:

conduct must continually

One thing is undeniable your
profession.
words are obscure,
this is uni
feeling is not ;
versally attended to, acknowledged, and acted upon ;
those to the majority of mankind would be unintel

by your arguments,
bely

my

my

my

nay, perhaps they are

even to yourselves.

ligible,

in a great

CHAP.
Recapitulation and

measure so

III.

Inference.

nPHE

substance of the preceding illustrations, when

*
applied to the principal purpose of this discourse,
is as followeth
Although it be certain, that all just reasoning does
ultimately terminate in the principles of common
sense ; that is, in principles which must be admitted
as certain, or as probable, upon their own authority,
:

without evidence, or at least without proof even as

all mathematical reasoning does ultimately terminate
in self-evident axioms
yet philosophers, especially
those who have applied themselves to the investiga
tion of the laws of human nature, have not always
been careful to confine the reasoning faculty within
its proper sphere, but have vainly imagined, that
even the principles of common sense are subject to
the cognisance of reason, and may be either confirmed
or confuted by argument.
They have accordingly,
;

many instances, carried their investigations higher

than the ultimate and self-supported principles of
common sense ; and by so doing have introduced
many errors, and much false reasoning, into the moral

in

sciences.

To remedy

this, it

was proposed,

as a

matter deserving serious attention, to ascertain the

and common sense. And
separate provinces of reason

CHAP.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

III.

because, in many cases, it may be difficult to dis

tinguish a principle of common sense from an ac

quired prejudice and, consequently, to know at what

point reasoning ought to stop, and the authority of
common sense to be admitted as decisive ; it was.
therefore judged expedient to inquire,
Whether
such reasonings as have been prosecuted beyond
ultimate principles, be not marked with some peculiar characters, by which they may be distin;

"

"

"

"

guished from legitimate

investigation."

To

illus

trate this point, the doctrines of the non-existence

of

matter, and the necessity of human actions, were

pitched upon as examples ; i n which, at least in the
former of which, common sense, in the opinion of all
competent judges, is confessedly violated ; the na
tural effects produced upon the mind by the reason
ings that have been urged in favour of these doctrines r
were considered ; and the consequences, resulting
from the admission of such reasonings, were taken
notice of, and explained. And it was found, that the
reasonings that have been urged in favour of these
doctrines are really marked with some peculiar cha
racters, which it is presumed, can belong to no legi
timate argumentation whatsoever. Of these reason

ings
"

"

it

was observed, and proved,

"

That

the doc*

trines they are intended to establish are contradictory to the general belief df all men in all

ages
That, though enforced and supported with singular subtlety, and though admitted by some professed philosophers, they do not produce that conviction which sound reasoning never fails to produce in the intelligent mind
and,- lastly, That

>

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

"

and to act from a real belief of

and reasonings, must be attended

really to believe,

such doctri.ies
with fatal consequences to science,, to virtue, tohuman society, and to all the important interests of
mankind."

do not suppose, that

from not attending

arisen

all

the errors

which have

to the foundation of truth^.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

II.

and essential rules of reasoning, as here explained,

are equally dangerous.
Some of them perhaps may
be innocent; to such the last of these characters can
If wholly innocent, it is of little conse
not belong.
quence, whether we know them to be errors or not.
When a new tenet is advanced in moral science, there
will be a strong presumption against it, if contrary
for as every man may find the
to universal opinion
evidence of moral science in his own breast, it is not
to be supposed, that the generality of mankind would,
for any length of time, persist in an error, which
:

their

own

daily

experience, if attended to without

Let, therefore,
prejudice, could not fail to rectify.
the evidence of the new tenet be carefully examined,
and attended to. If it produce a full and clear con
viction in the intelligent mind, and at the same time
serve to explain the causes of the universality and
long continuance of the old erroneous opinion, the
new one ought certainly to be received as true. But
if the assent produced by the ne*v doctrine be vague,
if nature and common
indefinite and unsatisfying
sense reclaim against it ; if it recommend modes of
thought that are inconceivable, or modes of action
it is not, it cannot be true,
that are impracticable
however plausible its evidences may appear.
;

Some will think, perhaps, that a straighter and

shorter course might have brought me sooner, and
with equal security, to this conclusion. I acknowledge
I have taken a pretty wide circuitv
This was ow
ing in part to my love of perspicuity, which in these
subjects hath not always been studied so much as it
ought to have been ; and partly, and chiefly, to my
desire of confuting, on this occasion, (as I wish to

have done with metaphysical controversy for ever),

as many of the most pernicious tenets of modern
scepticism as could be brought within my present
But the reader will perceive, that I have en
plan.
deavoured to conduct all my digressions in such a

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

III.

243

might serve for illustrations of

the principal subject.
To teach men to distinguish by intuition a dictate
of common sense from an acquired prejudice, is a
work which nature only can accomplish.
shall
ever be more or less sagacious in this respect, accord
ing as Heaven has endowed us with greater or less
strength of mind, vivacity of perception, and solidity
manner, as that they

We

The
of judgment.
more laborious, and

method here recommended

much

less

expeditious.

is

Yet

am not greatly mistaken, may be of

considerable use, to enable us to form a proper esti*
mate of those reasonings, which, by violating com
mon sense, tend to subvert every principle of rational
belief, to sap the foundations of truth and science,
and to leave the mind exposed. to all the horrors of
this method, if I

To be puzzled by such reasonings, is

scepticism.
neither a crime nor a dishonour ; though in many,
cases it may be both dishonourable and criminal ta
suffer ourselves to be deluded by them.
For is not
this to prefer the equivocal voice of a vain, selfish,
and ensnaring wrangler, to the clear, the benevolent,
the infallible dictates of nature ? Is not this to belyur sentiments, to violate our constitution, to sin
to forsakes
against our own soul ? Is not this
the fountains of living water, and to hew out
unto ourselves broken cisterns that can hold no
"

"

"

water?"

PART

III.

OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.
rT^HEY

who consider virtue as a subject of mere

curiosity, and think that the principles of morals*
and properties of conic sections ought to be explain T
*

ed with the same degree of apathy and indifference,

will find abundant matter for censure in the preced
As the author is not very ambi
ing observations.
tious of the good opinion of such theorists, he will

A N ESSAY ON TRUTH.

244

PART

III.

not give himself much trouble in multiplying apolo

gies for what, .to them,, may have the appearance of
keenness or severity in the animadversions- he has
hitherto made, or may hereafter make, on the prin
He considers
ciples of certain noted philosophers.
happiness as the end and aim of our being ; and he
thinks philosophy valuable only so far as it may be
Ilurrinn, happiness seemeth
conducive to this end.
to him wholly unattainable, except by the means
that virtue and religion provide.
Ha is therefore
that
while
persuaded,
employed in pleading thecause of virtue, and of true science, its best auxi
liary, he supports, in some measure, the character
of a friend to human kind ; and he wor.ld think his
right to that glorious appellation extremely question
able, if the warmth of his zeal dkl not bear some
How
proportion to the importance of his cause.

ever suspicious he may be of his ability to vindi

cate the rights of his fellow-creatures, he is not sus
He feels, that, on such
picious of his inclination.
a subject, he must speak from the heart, 01 not
For the genius and manner of his dis
speak at all.
and by ecourse he has no other apology to offer
very person of spirit, candour, and benevolence, he
is sure that this apology will be deemed sufficient.
As to the principles and matter of it, he is less
confident.
These, though neither visionary nor un
He
important, may possibly be misunderstood.
therefore begs leave to urge a few things, for the
further vindication and illustration of them.
To his
:

own mind they

are fully satisfactory ; he hopes to

render them equally so to every candid -reader.
Happy if he should be as successful in establish
ing conviction, as others have been in subverting
!

it.,

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I*

CHAP.

245

I.

Further remarks on the consistency of tlese pnnci~

with tie interests of Science , and the Rights
pies
mankind.
of

TT may
*
That

"

possibly be objected to this discourse,

it tends to discourage freedom of
inquiry,

and to promote implicit faith."

But nothing is more contrary to my design ; as
those who attend, without prejudice, to the full **mport of what I have advanced on the subject of evi
Let me be per
dence, will undoubtedly pe rceive.
mitted to repeat, that the truths in which mun is
most concerned do not lie exceedingly deep ; nor are
we to estimate either their importance, or
certanity, by the length of the line of cur investiga
The evidences of the philosophy of human
tion..
nature are found in our own breast ; we need not
roam abroad in quest of them ; the unlearned are
judges of them as \vell as tre learned.
Ambiguities
have arisen, when the feelings of the heart and un
derstanding were expressed in words ; but the ffjLet a man
ings themselves were not ambiguous.
attentively examine himself, with a sincere purpose
of discovering the truth, and without any bias in
favour of particular theories, and he will seldom be
"

thc>r

at a Joss in regard to those truths, at least, that are

to his happiness and duty.
If men

most essential

must needs amuse themselves with metaphysical in

vestigation, let them apply if, where it can do no
and logomachies of onto
In the science of human nature it cannot pos
sibly do good, but must of necessity do infinite mis
chief.
What avail the obscure deductions of verbal

harm,

to the distinctions

logy.

argument, in illustrating what we sufficiently know by

in shewing that to be fictitious and
false, whose energy we must feel and acknowledge
every moment ? When therefore I find a pretended
experience? or

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

246
principle of

human

PART

III,

nature evinced by a dark and

intricate investigation, I am tempted to suspect, not

without reason, that its evidence is no where to be

found but
these,

the arguments of the theorist

in

when

disguised

ambiguous language,

it

and

distinctions, and
is sometimes hard to con

by quaint

even when the heart recoils from the doctrine

with contempt or detestation. If the doctrine be
to ex
true, it must also be agreeable to experience
perience, therefore, let the appeal be made ; let the
circumstances be pointed out, in which the contro
fute,

verted sentiment arises, or is supposed to arise.

is to act the philosopher, not the metaphysi
cian ; the interpreter of nature, not the builder of
But let us consider the objection more
systems.

This

particularly*

What then do you mean by that implicit faith, to

which you suppose these principles too favourable ?
Do you mean. an acquiescence in the dictates of our
own

If the
understanding, or in those of others ?
such
must
tell
that
I
former,
you,
implicit faith
is the only kind of belief which true philosophy re
I have already remarked, that, while
continues in his present state, our own intellec
tual feelings are, and must be, the standard of truth
All evidence productive of belief, is resolv
to us.

commends.

man

and comes
j
because I believe, or
because the law of my nature determines rne to
This belief may be called implicit ; but it is
Jieve.
the only rational belief of which we are capable and
able into the evidence of consciousness

at last to this point, I believe

b<?*

to say, that our minds ought not to submit to it, is

as absurd as to say, that our bodies ought not to be
Revelation itself must be at
nourished with food.
tended with evidence to satisfy consciousness or

common
believed.

sense

By

otherwise it can never be rationally

the evidence of the gospel, the ra

tional Christian is

He

acquiesces

in

it

persuaded that
as truth ; not

it

comes from God.

because

it is

recoir-

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

T.

mended by others, but because

it

satisfies his

247

owa

understanding.
is

But if, by implicit faith, you mean, what I think

commonly meant by that term, an unwarrantable

or unquestioned acquiescence in the sentiments of

other men, I deny that any part of this discourse
I never said, that
hath a tendency to promote it.
doctrines are to be taken for granted without exami
;
though I affirmed, that, in regard to moral
doctrines, a long and intricate examination is neither
necessary nor expedient. With moral truth, it is the
business of every man to be acquainted ; and there

nation

Deity has made it level to every capacity.

it from a lover of truth to
discourage free

fore the

Far be

dom

of iniquiry

in

Man

is

possessed of reasoning

by means of which he may bring that with

the sphere of common sense, which was original

powers

Of

these powers he

may, and ought

important truths are not
-self-evident, and our faculties were not designed for
a state of inactivity.
But neither were they design
ed to be employed in fruitless or dangerous investi
Our knowledge and capacity are limited ; it
gation.
is fit and necessary they should be so
we need not
wandei into forbidden paths, or attempt to penetrate
inaccessible regions, in
the
quest of employment
cultivation of useful and practical science, the
provement of arts, and the indispensable duties of
ly beyond

it.

to avail himself; for

many

>

>~

will furnish

ample scope to all the exertions of

Surely that man is my friend, who
genius.
dissuades me from attempting what I cannot perform,
life,

human

ncr even attempt without danger.

And is not he a
friend to science and mankind, who endeavours to
discourage fallacious and unprofitable speculation,
and to propose a criterion by which it
may be known
3nd avoided ?
But if reasoning ought not to be carried beyond 2
certain boundary, and if it is the
authority of com
mon cense that nxeth this boundary, and if it be pos-

ESSAY ON TRUTH.
sible to

mon

PART IU.

mistake a prejudice for a principle of com

how (it may be saicQ are prejudices to

sense,

be detected ?
At this rate, a man has nothing to
do, but to call his prejudice a dictate of common
sense, and then it is established in perfect security,
beyond the reach of argument. Does not this fur
nish a pretence for limiting the freedom of
inquiry ?
-Having already said a great deal in answer to the
first part of this
question, I need not now say much
in answer to the last.
I shall
only ask, on the other hand, what method of reasoning is the properest for overcoming the prejudices of an obstinate

man ? Are we to wrangle with him in infinitum,

without ever arriving at any fixed principle ?
That
surely
error.

is

not the

way

Do we mean

to

illustrate truth,

or rectify

to ascertain the

importance of
our arguments by their number, and to pronounce
that the better -cause

whose champion gives

the last

This, I fear, would not mend the matter.

our
Suppose
antagonist should deny a self-evident

word?

truth, or refuse his assent to an intuitive probabili

ty ; must we not refer him to the common sense of
mankind ? If we do not, we must either hold our
for when a
peace, or have recourse to sophistry
principle comes to be intuitively true or false, all le
gitimate reasoning is at an end, and ail further
To the common sense of
reasoning impertinent.
mankind we must therefore refer him sooner or
latter ; and if he continue obstinate, we must leave
:

it not then of
consequence to truth, and
not serve to prevent many a sophistical ar
gument, and unprofitable logomachy, that we have
it continually in view, that common sense is the
standard of truth ? a maxim, which men are not al

him.

may

Is

it

disposed to admit in its full latitude, and

which, in the heat and hurry of dispute, they are

ways

Some men will always

upt to overlook altogether.
be found, who think the most absurd prejudices
Reasonable men never
founded in common sense.
to
their
submit
to
prejudices or principles
scruple

CHAP.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

examination
count, or
zle

where

but

if

249

that examination turn to

no

ac

turn to a bad account ; if it only puz

ought to convince, and darken what it

if it
it

recommend impracticable
-ought to illustrate ; if it
modes of action, or inconceivable modes of thought ;
I cannot perceive the use of it.
I must confess
This is the only kind of reasoning that I mean to dis
It is this kind of reasoning that has pro
courage.
In it all our
ved so fatal to the abstract sciences.
of it they consist jsceptical systems are founded
and by it they are supported* Till the abstract
sciences be cleared of this kind of reasoning, they
deserve not the name of philosophy they may arnuse a weak and turbulent mind, and render it still
weaker and more turbulent ; but they cannot con
;

vey any real instruction they may undermine the

foundations of virtue and science 9 but they cannot
illustrate a single truth, nor establish one principle
of importance, nor improve the mind of man in any
respect whatsoever.
By some it may be thought an objection ;o the
That they seem to recomprinciples of this essay,
mend a method of confutation which is not strict*
ly according to log ic, and do actually contradict
*
some of the established laws of that science."
It will readily be acknowledged, that many of the
maxims of the school-logic are founded in truth and
nature, and have so long obtained universal approba
:

"

"

they are now become proverbial in philo

sophy. Many of its rules and distinctions are ex
tremely useful, not so much for strengthening the
jadgment,as for enabling the disputant quickly to com
prehend, and perspicuously to express, in what the
force or fallacy of an argument consists. The ground
work of this science, the Logic of Aristotle, if
we may judge of the whole by the part now ex
tant, is one of the most successful and most extraor
tion, that

dinary effects of philosophic genius that ever appear

ed in the world.
And yet, if we consider this sci-

X2

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

111.

ence, with regard to its design and consequences, we

shall perhaps see reason to think, that a strict obbervance of its laws is not always necessary to the

discovery of truth.

was originally intended

as a help to discourse aThe con

sprightly people.
stitution of Athens made public speaking of great
importance, and almost a certain road to preferment
or distinction.
This was also in some measure the
case at Rome j but the Romans were more reserved,
and did uot, till about the time of Cicero, think of
i
educing conversation or public breaking to rule.
The vivacity of the Athenians, euccuraged by their
democratical spirit, made them fond of disputes and
declamations, which were often carried on without
It

mong

a talkative and

any view to discover truth, but merely to gratify

humour, give employment to the tongue, and amuse

Some of the dialogues of Plato are

to be considered in this light, rather as exercises iu
declamation, than serious disquisitions in philosophy.
a vacant hour.

It is true, this is not the only merit even

them as seem the least considerable. If

of such of
are of

we

with his doctrine ; if we have little

to
learn
the characters and manners of that
curiosity
a representa
age. whereof he has given so natural
tion j we must
acknowledge, that as models for
ten dissatisfied

yet
the most in.
elegance and simplicity of composition,
considerable of Plato s dialogues are very useful and
His speakers often compliment each oingenious.
ther on the beauty of their style even when there is
If there
sentiment *.
nothing very striking in the
of
a
estimate
form
we
would
Plato, we
fore,
just
must regard him not only as a philosopher, but also
for it is evident he was ambitious
as a rhetorician
;

But it appears, not to

to excel in both characters.
have been his opinion, that the practice of extempo
in his time
speaking and disputing, so frequent

rary

* See the
Symposium. Platonis opera,
Bdit. Saxran.

vol. 3.

p.

198.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

251

had any

direct tendency to promote the investigation

The Lace
of truth, or the acquisition of wisdom.

demonians, the most reserved and most silent people

in Greece, and who made the least pretensions to a
literary character, were, in his judgment, a nation
not only of the wisest men, but of the greatest phi
losophers. Their words were few, their address
but the meanest of them
not without rusticity
;

was

by

a single

expression, dextrously aimed,

and seasonably introduced, to make the stranger
with whom he conversed appear no wiser than a
child*.
able,

The Athenians, accustomed

among whom the

to reduce

every thing.

of science was
more prevalent than in any other nation ancient or
modern, had contrived a kind of technical logic long
before the days of Aristotle.
Their sophists taught
it in conjunction with
rhetorics and philosophy.
to art, and

But

Aristotle brought

have been the

first

it to

who

spirit

perfection, and

seems to

professedly disjoined

the other arts and sciences.

On

his logic

it

from,

was found

ed that of the school-men.

But they, like other
commentators, often misunderstood the text, and often
perverted it to the purpose of a favourite system.
They differed from one another in their notions of
Aristotle s doctrine, ranged themselves into sects
and parties
and, instead of explaining the princi
;

made
comment upon one another.
ples of their master,

learning arose,

E/ r/V

r?a9a/,

r<x.

who

fcOlxo/

f/.\v

business to
and then men of
endeavoured to revive the true
it

their sole

Now

Aax.il OL i uorf coy

TU $OLVKOTKTO vvyyi-

TTOKKQL tv TO?C xoyoi$

TIVOL $OLtyOjU.iVOV,

fGTilTOL GZTGV

<pamt/0cu

OLV

roy

ivfrxrii

TV^Cl

avrcy

TUV

nfqttttU&JffttkQl

TTOLI-

Socrates in Plat. Protogora, voL I,/, 342..

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

*5 3

PART

IIT.

Peripatetic philosophy ; but their efforts, instead

of proving successful, served only to provoke perse
cution ; and at length the scholastic system grew so
corrupt, and at the same time so enormous in magni
tude, that it became an insuperable incumbrance to
the understanding, and contributed not a little to

perpetuate the ignorance and barbarism of those times.

chief aim of the old logic, even in its purest

The

form, (so far at least as it was a practical science^,

was to render men expert in arguing readily on eith
er side of any question.
But it is one thing to em
in
our
faculties
ploy
searching after truth, and a
different thing to employ them equally in de
fence of truth and of error ; and the same modifica
tion of intellect that fits a man for the one, will by

very

no means qualify him

for the other.

Nay,

if I

mis

take nor, the talents that fit us for discovering truth

are rather hurt than improved by the practice of
sophistry.

To

argue against one

own

conviction,

must always have a bad effect on the heart, and ren

der one more indifferent about the truth, and per
haps more incapable of perceiving it *.

To dispute readily on either side of any question,

admired by some as a very high accomplishment
but it is what any person of moderate abilities may
easily acquire by a little practice. Perhaps moderate
abilities are the most favourable to the acquisition of
this talent.
Sensibility and penetration, the insepa
rable attendants, or rather the most essential parts

is

of true genius, qualify a man for discovering truth

with little labour of investigation ; and at the same
time interest hiiB so deeply in it, that he cannot bear
to turn his view to the other side of the question.

Thus he never employs himself

in devising

argu-

* See the
story of Pertinax in the Rambler, No. 95

Y/here the effects of habitual disputation , in perverting the

Judgments, and vitiating the heart, are illustrated with the
it .mcst

energy and elegance.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY OH TRUTH,

I.

253

ments ; and therefore seldom arrives at any profi

But the man of slow intel
ciency in that exercise.
lect and dull imagination advances step by step in his
without any keenness of sentiment,, or ar
enquiries,
dor of fancy, to distract his attention j and without
that instantaneous anticipation of consequences, that
leads the-

man

fore he has

of genius to the conclusion, even be

all the intermediate relations.

examined

Hence he naturally acquires

a talent for

minute ob

servation, and for a patient examination or circum

stances ; at the same time that his insensibility pre

vents his interesting himself warmly on either side,

and leaves him leisure to attend equally to his own
arguments, and to those of the antagonist. This gives
him eminent superiority in a dispute, and fits him,
not indeed for discovering truth, but for baffling an
adversary and supporting a system*
I have been told that Newton, the first time he
read Euclid s Elements, perceived instantly, and al
most intuitively, the truth of the several pioposU
Such vivacity
tions, before he consulted the proof*
and strength of judgment are extraordinary and in
deed, in the case of mathematical and physical truths,
we are seldom to expect this instantaneous anticipa
tion of consequences, even from men of more than
moderate talents. But in moral subjects, and in most
:

of the matters that are debated in conversation, there

rarely any need of comparing a great number of

is

intermediate relations
every person of sound judg
ment sees the truth at once or, if he does not, it is
owing to his ignorance of some facts or circumstan
ces, which may be soon learned from a plain narra
:

tive, but which are disguised and confounded more

and more by wrangling and contradiction.
If there
be no means of clearing the disputed facts or difficul
ties, it would not, I presume, be imprudent to drop
the subject, and talk of
something else.
It .is pleasant
enough to hear the habitual wrang
ler
endeavouring to justify his conduct by a pretence

AN

2fJ4

ESSAY. ON TRUTH.

PART

III.

of zeal for the truth.

It is not the love of truth,

of victory, that engages him in disputation.
I
have witnessed many contests of this kind ; but have
"but

seldom seen them lead, or even tend

to

any useful
ostentation, self-conceit., or love
discovery.
of paradox, are not concerned, they commonly arise
from some verbal ambiguity, or from the misconcep
tion of some fact, which both parties
taking it for
that
are at no
understand,
perfectly
they
granted
and, when once begun, are, by
pains to ascertain
the vanity or obstinacy of the speakers, or perhaps
by their mere love of speaking, continued, till acci
dent put an end to them by silencing the parties, ra
ther than reconciling their opinions.
I once saw a
number of persons, neither unlearned nor ill-bred,

Where

meet together to pass a social evening. As ill-luck

would have it, a dispute arose about the propriety of
a certain manoeuvre at quadrille, in which some of
the

company had been

Two

interested the night before.

were immediately formed

warmly argued from six o clock
midnight, when the company broke up.
Being
parties of disputants

and the matter was

till

in cards, I could not enter into the merits

of the cause, nor take any part in the controversy ;
but I observed, that each of the speakers persisted
to the last in the opinion he took up at the begin
ning, in which he seemed to be rather confirmed than
staggered by the arguments that had been urged in
With such enormous waste of time, with
opposition.
such vile prostitution of reason and speech, with
such wanton indifference to thepleasures of friendship,
but most of them, if
all disputes are not attended
I mistake not, will be found to be equally unprofit

no adept

able.

I grant, that much of our knowledge is gathered

from our intercourse with one another} but I can
not think that we are greatly indebted to the argu
mentative part of conversation ; and nobody will say,
that the most disputatious companions are either

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

the most agreeable or the

most instructive.

For

my

have always found those to be the most

in
delightful and most improving conversations,
which there was the least contradiction ; every per
son entertaining the utmost possible respect, both for
the judgment, and for the veracity of his associate ;
and none assuming any of those dictatorial airs,
which are so offensive to the lovers of liberty, mo
If a catalogue were to be
desty and friendship
made of all the truths that have been discovered by
wrangling in company, or by solemn disputations in
the schools, I believe it would appear, that the con
tending parties might have been employed as advan
tageously to mankind, and much more so to them

own

part, I

whipping a top, or brandishing a rattle.

extravagant fondness of the Stoics for logical
quibbles, is one of the most disagreeable peculiari
ties in the writings of that sect.
Every body must
have been disgusted with it in reading some passa
ges of the conversations of Epictetus, preserved by
Arrian ; and must be satisfied, that it tended rather
to weaken and bewilder, than to improve the under
One could hardly believe to what ridicu
standing.
selves, in

The

There was a famous

they carried it.
problem among them called the Pseudomenos, which
waa to this purpose
When a man says, I lie, does
he lie, or does he not ? If he lies, he speaks truth
if he speaks truth, he lies."
Many were the books

lous excess

"

"

j.

"

that their philosophers wrote, in order to solve this

wonderful problem. Chrysippus favoured the world

with no fewer than six

self to death in his

whose good sense

and Phiietas studied him

attempts to solve it. Epictetus,

often triumphs over the extrava

gance of Stoicism, justly ridicules

this logical

phren-

z.y *.

made little account of the subtleties of

being more solicitous to instruct others^ tham

Socrates
logic

Arrian,

lib. ii.

cap. 17.

AN ESSAT ON TRUTH.

PART

III.

He inferred his doctrine

to distinguish himself *.
from the concessions of those with whom he convers
ed ; so that he left no room for dispute, as the adver
sary could not contradict him, without contradicting
himself. And yet to Socrates, philosophy is
perhaps
more indebted than to any other person whatever.
have therefore no reason to think, that truth
is discoverable by those means only which the tech
nical logic prescribes.
Aristotle knew the theory
both of sophisms and syllogisms, better than any other man
yet Aristotle himself is sometimes im
And
posed on by sophisms of his own invention .

We

it is

remarkable, that his moral, rhetorical, and poli

tical writings, in
is little

which

useful, and, in

his

own

excellent

judgment
most
point of sound reasoning, the most

warped by

logical subtleties, are far the

unexceptionable part of his philosophy.

The apparent tendency of the school-logic is, to
render men disputatious and sceptical, adepts in the
knowledge of words, but inattentive to fact and ex
It makes them fonder of speaking than
perience.
thinking, and therefore strangers to themselves ; so
licitous chiefly about rule?, names, and distinctions,
and therefore leaves them neither leisure nor incli
nation for the study of life and manners. In a word,
it makes them more ambitious to distinguish them
selves as the partisans of a dogmatist, than as enquir
It is easy to see how far a man of
ers after truth.
this

temper

is

qualified to

make

discoveries in

know

To

such a rnan, indeed, the name of truth

ledge.
he neither is, nor can be, much
a
is
pretence
only
*
2.
2. sect. 1.
:

Supra, part

Thus he

is

said to

chap.

have proved the earth to be the

Hea~
centre of the universe, by the following sophism.
vy bodies naturally tend to the centre of the universe j
we know by experience, that heavy bodies tend to the
"

"

"

**

centre of the earth

**

the same with that of the

the logicians call

therefore the centre of the earth

universe."

peiiiio frincipii, or

Which

begging the

is

is

what

CHAP.

AN ESSAY

I.

Otf

TRUTH.

157

interested in the solidity or importance of his tenets;

it is enough if he can render them plausible ; nay, it

enough if he can silence his adversary by any

means. The captious turn of an habitual wrangler,
har
deadens the understanding, sours the temper,
is

<md

by rendering the mind suspicions,

and attentive to trifles, it weakens the sagacity of
instinct, and extinguishes the fire of imagination ; it
transforms conversation i ;to a state of warfare, and
dens the heart

restrains those lively sallies of fancy, so effectual in

promoting good humour and good-will, which, tho

often erroneous, are a thous;md times more valuable
than the dull correctness of a mood- and-figure dis
ciplinarian.

One

of

the

That nothing

first

is

to

maxims

of the

school-logic

be bt-lieved, but what

we

is,

can give

a reason for believing ; a maxim destructive of all

truth and science, as hath been fully shown in the
must not, how
former part of this discourse.

We

maxim

to the

charge of the ancient lo

and
the
modern sceptics, got it
Dts
CARTES,
gic.
from the schoolmen, who forged it out of some pas
The philosopher
sages of Aris otle misunderstood.
said indeed, that all investigation should begin with
doubt ; but this doubt is to remain only till the un
derstanding be convinced which, in Aristotle s judg
ment, may be effected by intuitive evidence as well
ever, lay this

The doctrine we have been

by argumentative.
endeavouring to illustrate, tends not to encourage any
prejudices, or any opinions, unfriendly to truth or
virtue
its only aim is, to establish the
authority of
those instinctive principles of conviction and assent,
which the rational part of mankind have acknow
ledged in all ages, and which the condition of man,
in respect both of action and intelligence, renders it
absurd not to acknowledge.
cannot suppose,
that the human mind, unlike to all other natural
sy
as

We

stems,

is

made up

of incompatible principles; in it,

must be unity of design ; and

as in all the rest, there

AN ESSAY

258

Otf

therefore the principles of

man

TRUTH.

human

belief,

PART

III.

and of hu

must have one and the same tendency.

But many of our modern philosophers teach a dif
action,

ferent doctrine

endeavouring to persuade themselves,

and others, that they otighc not to believe what they
cannot possibly disbelieve ; and that those actions
may be absurd, and contrary to truth, the perfor
mance of which is necessary to our very existence.
If they will nave it, that this is philosophy, I shall
not dispute about the word ; but I insist on it, that
ail such philosophy is no better than pedantic non
and that, if a man were to write a book, to
sense
prove, that fire is the element in which we ought to
live, he would not act more absurdly, than some me
taphysicians of these times would be thought to have
acted, if their works were understood, and rated ac
;

cording to their intrinsic merit.

That every thing may be made matter of dispute,
is another favourite maxim of the school-logic ; and
it would not be easy to devise one more detrimental
What a strange propensity these
to true science.
One would think,
doctors have had to disputation
the chief end of man is,
that, in their judgment,
to contradict his neighbour, and wrangle with him
To attempt a proof of what I know to
for ever."
false, and a confutation of what I know to be
true, is an exercise from which 1 can never expect
!

"

"

"

J>*

vantage so long as I deem rationality a blessing.

never heard it prescribed as a recipe for strength

CK"

blindfolded in the
ening the si^ht, to keep constantly
we go to sleep ;
when
on
and
spectacles
put
4ay-time,
nor can I imagine how the ear of a musician could
be improve... by his playing frequently on an ill-tuned
And yet the school-men seem to have
fiddle.
the more we shut our eyes against the
that
thought,
the more distinctly perceive it ^ and
we
shall
truth,
that the oftener we practise falsehood, we shall be

the more sagacious in detecting, and the more hearty

To suppose, that we may make
in abhorring it.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

I.

2J9

every thing matter of dispute, is to suppose, that we

in most cases,
Alas
can account for every thing.
to feel and believe, is all we have to do, or can do.
Destined for action rather than for knowledge, and
governed more by instinct than by reason, we can
extend our investigations, especially with regard to
ourselves, but a very little way.
And, alter all,
when we acquiesce with implicit confidence in the
dictates of our nature, where is the harm or the
danger of such a conduct ? Is our life shortened, or
health injured by it ? No. Are our judgments per
verted, or our hearts corrupted ? No. Is our happi
ness impaired, or the sphere of our gratification con
!

tracted

Have we

Quite the contrary.

less leisure

for attending to the duties of life, and for adorning

our minds with useful and elegant literature ?

We

have evidently more time

Why

then so

much

logic

left

so

for those purposes.

many

disputes, and so

theories, about the first philosophy

than in disguising falsehood, and

many

Rather

labouring to sub

why do we not, with

humility and candour, employ our faculties in the
attainment of plain, practical, and useful knowledge ?

vert the foundations of truth,

The consequences of submit ting every sentiment

and principle to the test of reasoning, have been con
sidered already.
This practice has, in every age,
tended much to confound science, to pi event the de
tection of error, and Cinay we not add ?) to debase
the human understanding.
For, have we not seen
real genius, under the influence of a
disputatious
spirit, derived from nature, fashion, or education,
evaporate in subtlety, sophistry, and vain refinement ?
Lucretius, Cicero, and Des Cartes, might be men
tioned as examples.
And it will be matter of last
ing regret in the republic of letters, that a greater
than the greatest of these, I mean John Milton, had
the misfortune to be borne in an age when the
study
of scholastic theology was deemed an essential
part
of intellectual discipline.

AN ESSAY QN TRUTH.

2()0
It is

PART

either affectation, or false modesty, that

III.

makes

Man s
they know nothing with certainty.
with
that
of
indeed,
compared
knowledge,
superior
beings, may be very inconsiderable ; and compared
as nothing and vawith that of The Supreme, is
it is true, that we are
and
nity
daily puzzled in
attempting to account for the most familiar appear
But it is true, notwithstanding, that we do
ances.
cannot possibly doubt of our knowing,
and
know,
men say

"

"

:"

some

things with certainty.

"

"

And

Let school-taught pride dissemble all

These little things are great to little

it

can,

man."

To

be vain of any attainment, is presumption and

folly but to think every thing disputable, is a proof
And however
of a weak mind and captious temper.
:

boast of their modesty, in disclaiming

pretensions to certain knowledge, I would appeal
to the man of candour, whether they or we seem to
they, who suppose, that
possess least of that virtue ;

may

sceptics

all

they can raise insurmountable objections in every

subject or we, who believe, that our Maker has
permitted us to know with certainty some few
;

things

In opposition to this practice of making every

thing matter of dispute, we have endeavoured to
show, that the instinctive suggestions of common

sense are the ultimate standard of truth to man ; that

\vhatever contradicts them is contrary to fact, and
therefore false ; that to suppose them cognisable by
reason, is to suppose truth as variable as the intel
lectual, or as the argumentative, abilities of men j
and that it is an abuse of reason, and tends to the
subversion of science, to call in question the authen
ticity of

our natural feelings, and of the natural sug

human understanding.

gestions of the

* Goldsmith

Traveller,

CHAP.

AN

JI.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

i6 l

That science never prospered while the. old logic

Lord Verulam
continued in fashion, is undeniable.
was one of the first who brought it into disrepute ;
and proposed a different metho A of investigating truth,,
namely, that the appearances of nature should be care
fully observed, and instead of facts being wrested to
make them fall in with theory, that theory should
be cautiously inferred from facts, and from them only.
The event has fully proved, that our great philoso
pher was in the right for science has made more
progress since his time, and by his method, than for
The court of Rome well
a thousand years before.
knew the importance of the school-logic in support
ing their authority ; they knew it could be employed
more successfully in disguising error, than in vindi
and PufFendorff scruples not to affirm,
cating truth
:

Let
that they patronised it for this very reason *.
it not then be urged, as an objection to this discourse,
that it recommends a method of confutation which is
It is enough for me, that the
not strictly logical.
method here recommended is agreeable to good sense
and sound philosophy, and to the general notions andpractices of men.

CHAP.
Tie

subject

Causes

continued.

II.

Estimate

the Degeneracy

of Metaphysic*

of Moral

Science.

HPHE

reader has no doubt observed, that I have

frequently used the term metapbysic, as if it im
plied something worthy of contempt or censure.
That no lover of science may be offended, I shall
now account for this ; by explaining the nature of
that metaphysic which 1 conceive to be
repugn ait to
true philosophy, though it has often assumed the
*

name; and which,, therefore, in

judgment, the
friends of truth ought solicitously to
guard against*

my

De Monarchia

Pontificis

Romani,

cap. 34v

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

262

This explanation will lead

to

PART

some remarks

that

III.

may

perhaps throw additional light on the present sub

ject.

Aristotle bequeathed by legacy his writings to

Theophrastus ; who left them together with his
own, to Neleus of Scepsis. The posterity of Neleus, being illiterate met), kept them for some time
locked up
but afterwards hearing, that the king of
the country was making a general search for books
;

to furnish his library at Pergamus-, they hid them in

a hole underground , where they lay for many years,

and suffered much from worms and dampness, At

last, however, they were sold to one Apeilicon, who
caused them to be copied cut and, having (accordIng o btraboj a greater passion for books than for
;

knowledge, ordered the transcribers

chasms from their own invention.

to

supply the

When

Sylla

took Athens, he seized on Apeliicon s library, and

Here the books of Aristo
carried it to Rome.
tle were revised, by Tyrannic the grammarian, and
afterwards by Andronicus of Rhodes, a Peripatetic
philosopher,
tion of
it

them

who
*.

published the first complete edi

fourteen of these books, \vhich

To

seems had no general title, Andronicus prefixed

words, Ta meta ta physica f, that is, the books

the"

the or
der of the former arrangement, they happened to be
the editor meant that they should
placed, or because
This is said to
the physics.
after
next
be studied,
be the origin of the word l\ietaphysic.
The subject of these fourteen books is mis

tie physics ; either because, in

posterior* to

seem to have con

yet the Peripatetics
one branch of
but
as
sidered
constituting
science ; the place of which in their system may be
All philosophy is either specula
thus conceived.
The practical regulates the moral
or
tive
cellaneous

them

practical.

*
j*

Strabo, p. 609.

Ta

fJLtroi

Paris edit. 1620.

ra fvma.

Plut. Sylla.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

263

and intellectual operations of men, and therefore

comprehends ethics and logic. The speculative rests
in the

knowledge of truth and is divided into three

which inquire into the na
;

parts, to wit, Physics,

ture of material substances, and the human soul ;

Mathematics, which consider certain properties of
body as abstracted from body and this MetaphyJ
sic, (which Aristotle is said to have called Theolo
gy, and the First Philosophy), which, besides
some remarks on truth in genera], the method of
discovering it, and the errors of former philosc
phers, explains, first, the general properties of be
;

ing,,

and, secondly, the nature

from matter, namely, of

God

of things separate
the one first cause,

and of the forty-seven inferior deities.

Following the notion, that these fourteen books
comprehend only one part of philosophy, the Chris
tian Peripatetics divided metaphysics into universal
In the first, they treated of being,
and particular.
and its properties and parts, considered as it is be
*
in the second, of God and
j
ing
angels.

The schoolmen disjoined the philosophy of

human mind from physics, where Aristotle had

the

pla
ced it ; and added it to metaphysics, because its ob-So that their me
ject is an immaterial substance.
taphysics consisted of three parts
Ontology, in
which they pretended to explain the general proper
;

Pneumatics, which treated of the

and Natural Theology, which treated
of the Supreme Being, and of those spirits which
have either no body at all, or on so very fine as tobe imperceptible to human
From the account we have given of the manner
in which Aristotle s works were fiist published, the
ties

of being

human mind

se<;se.

reader will admit, that

*
1

Metaphysique universelle

estant, et des ses pro;

de

some of the errors

estant, selon

qu

il

-.{"..oz,

to

be

a laquelle il est traicte de

des parties ou membrcs

est estant,

&c.

Bouju,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

264

PART

Ilf.

them may reasonably enough be imputed

found
to the first transcribers and editors.
It was a
gross
error in distribution, to reduce God, and the inferior
deities, who were conceived to be a particular spe
cies of beings, to the same class with those
qualities
in

common

or attributes that are

treat of both in the

was no

less

compose a

to all

being, and to

same part of philosophy.

improper than
"

treatise,

Of

It

a physiologist should
men, horses, and identi
if

This inaccuracy could not have escaped Aris

totle
it is to be charged on his editors, who
pro
a series of treatises on various sub
mistook
bably
To
jects for one treatise on one particular subject.
many this may seem a trifling mistake but it has
ty."

produced important consequences.

It led the earlier

Peripatetics into the impropriety of explaining the

divine existence, and the general properties of be
ing, by the same method of reasoning ; and it indu
ced the schoolmen to confound the important scien
ces of pneumatics and natural theology with the idle
distinctions and logomachies of ontology.
Natural

theology ought to consist of legitimate inferences

effect to the cause ; pneumatics, or the
philosophy of the human mind, are nothing but a
detail of tacts, illustrated, methodized, and applied
to practice, by obvious and convincing reasonings
both sciences are founded in experience but onto

from the

logy pretends to ascertain its principles by demon

In fact, though ontology were,
strations a priori.
what it professes to be, an explication of the gener
could not throw any light
for in them the
;
be as impro
of
would
method
reasoning
ontological
of ontology
But
the
the
mathematical.
as
systems
per
that have come into my hands are little better
al properties of being,

it

on Jiatural theology and pneumatics

t>an

vocabularies of those hard words which the school

men had contrived, in order to give an air of mys

tery and importance to their doctrine. While, there

fore, the sciences of Natural Theology and Pneu-

CHAP.

II.

AN ESSAY ON

matics were, by
to the

was

lj

TRUTIJ.

this preposterous division,

referred

same part of philosophy with ontology, how

possible they could prosper, or be explained

In fact, they did not
their own proper evidence
their
evidence, was laid
experience,
proper
prosper
it

by

and fictitious theory, disguised by ontologiterms and distinctions, and supported by ontok)-

aside
cal

gical reasoning,

was substituted

in its stead.

LOCKE was one of the first who rescued the phi

losophy of human nature out of the hands of the
schoolmen, cleared it of the enormous incumbrance
of strange words which they had heaped upon it,
and set the example of ascertaining our internal oHis
perations, not by theory, but by experience.
success was wonderful
for, though he has some
times fallen into the scholastic way of arguing, as in
:

first book ; and some times suffered himself to

be imposed on by words, as in his account of secon
dary qualities, too rashly adapted from the Carte
sians ; yet has he done more to establish the abstract
sciences on a proper foundation, than could have
been expected from one man who derived almost all
His successors, Butler and
his lights from himself.
Hutcheson excepted, have not been very fortunate.
BERKELEY S book, though written with a good de*
sign, did more harm than good, by recommending
and exemplifying a method of argumentation sub
versive of all knowledge, and leading directly to
Mr HUME S Treatise and
universal scepticism.
Essays are still more exceptionable. This author
-has revived the scholastic way of reasoning from theo
ry, and of wresting facts to make them coincide
with it. His language is indeed more modish, but
equally favourable to sophistical argument, and equaily proper for giving an air of plausibility and
Iris

importance to what is fiivolous or unintelligible.

regard we are to pay to his profession of ar~
guing from experience has been already considered,.

What

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH,

266

PART

III.

The word

metaphysics, according to the vulgar

applied to all disquisitions concerning things
immaterial
In this sense, the plainest account of
the faculties of the mind, and of the principles of
is

use,

moral and natural religion, would be termed meta

Such metaphysics, hov\ ever, we are so far
physics.

from despising or censuring, that we account it the

sublimest and most useful part of science.
Those arguments also and illustrations in the ab
stract philosophy, which are not obvious to ordina
ry understandings, are sometimes called metaphysi
cal.
But as the principles of this philosophy, how
ever well expressed, appear somewhat abstruse to

who

one

is

but a novice

in the

study

and as very

plain principles may seem intricate in an author who

is inattentive to his expression, as the best authors
sometimes are, it would be unfair to reject, or con

ceive a prejuvlice against, every doctrine in morals

is not perfectly free from
obscurity. Yet a con

that

obscurity, in matters whereof every man

should be a competent judge, cannot fail to breed a

tinued

suspicion, either that the doctrine is faulty, or that

is not equal to his subject.

the writer

The term metaphysical, in those passages of this

book where it is expressive of censure, will be found
to allude to that mode of abbtract investigation, so
common among the modern sceptics and the school
men, which is supported, either wholly by an am
biguous and indefinite phraseology, or bv th,.t in con
junction with a partial experience; and which sel

dom

fails to

matter of
It

so

is

lead to .such conclusions as contradict

fact, or truths of indisputable authority.

of iv.veatigatipn that has introduced

the moral sciences ; for few, emost can .id moral philosophers, are en

this nif.-de

many

ven of

UT<

01.1

rs iito

The love of system, or partia

tirely free iroin it.
a imm off
to
a
favourite
lity
opinion, not only putb
his guard, so as to

-ake

him overlook inaccurate

may some-

expressions, and indefinite notions, but

CHAP.

II.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

267

When such
times occasion even a mistake of fact.
mistakes are frequent, and affect the most important
truths, we must blame the author for want of can
when they are innocent,
dour, or want of capacity
and recur but seldom, we ought to ascribe them to
the imperfection of human nature.
Instances of this metaphysic are so common, that
we might almost fill a volume with a list of them.
Spinosa s pretended demonstration of the existence
of the one great Being, by which, however, he
meant only the universe, is a metaphysical argu
ment, founded in a series of false or unintelligible,
:

though

plausible, definitions *.

BERKELEY

proof

of the non-existence of matter is wholly metaphysi

cal ; and arises chiefly from the mistake of suppo
sing certain words to have but one

meaning, whieh
have
and
The same
three.
sometimes
two,
really
author, in a book of sermons, said to have been de
livered at the chapel of Trinity College, Dublin {*,has endeavoured to enforce the detestable doctrine of
passive obedience and none-resistance, by metaphy
sical arguments founded on an arbitrary explication
of the term moral duty ; from which he pretends to
prove, that negative moral duties must never, on
any account, be violated ; and that passive obedience

supreme power, wherever placed, is a negative

moral duty. In this inquiry, he makes no account
of those instinctive sentiments of morality whereof
men are conscious ascribing them to the blood and
spirits, or to education and habit ; and asserting,
that the conduct of rational beings is to be directed,
to

not by them, but by the dictates of sober and inij>arreason.

LOCKE S discourse against innate ideas
and principles, is likewise too metaphysical.
Some

ti^l

* See the
Appendix to

vol. I. of

Chev. Ramsay

ciples of Religion.
f The third edition of these sermons, which are
in number, is printed at London iu the
year 1713.

Prin
threa

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

268

PART

III.

of his notions on that subject are, I believe,

right j
but he has not explained them with his wonted pre
cision ; and most of his arguments arc founded on an
ambiguous acceptation of the words idea and jnate.

The author of the Falls of the Bees seems to have

carried this mode of reasoning as far as it will go.
If there had been no ambiguous words in the Eng
language, the understanding of mankind would
never have been affronted with his system.
Many
of our appetites become criminal only when exces
and we have not always names to express that
sive
degree of indulgence which is consistent with virtue,
The shameless word-catcher takes advrnt:ge of this,
and confounds the innocent gratification \vith the
excessive or criminal indulgence ; calling both bv the
saaie name, and taking it for granted, tbst what he
proves to be true of the one is also true of the other.
What is it that may ;iot be proved by diis way of
arguing ? May not vice be proved to be virtue, and
virtue to be vice ? May not a regard to reputation,
lish

industry, generosity, conjugal love, be

be the same with vanity, luxury, avarice,
profusion, sensuality ? May it not be proved, that

cleanliness,

proved

to

private virtues are private vices ; and, consequently,

that private vices are public benefits ? Such a conclu..-;ioii is indeed so easily made out by such logic,
that nothing but ignorance, impudence, and a hard
heart, is necessary to qualify a man for making it.
If it be said, that considerabl genius must be em
ployed in dressing up these absurd doctrines, sy as
"

to render them plausible ; I would ask, who are

the persons that think them plausible ? Never did I
hear of one man of virtue or learning, who did not
both detest and despise them. They seem plausible,
to
highwaymen, zndpetit maitres \

perhaps,

gamblers,

but it will not be pretended, that those gentlemen

have leisure, inclination, or capacity, to reflect OH

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

269

what they read or hear, so as to separate truth from

falsehood.

Mr HUME

holds a
of
Every part
philosophy be
distinguished place.
comes raetaphysic in his hands. His whole theory
of the understanding is founded on the doctrine of
impressions and ideas, which, as he explains it, is so

Among

metaphysical writers,

contrary to fact, that nothing but the illusion of

words could make it pass upon any reader. 1 have
already given several instances of this author s me
I shall give one more j which I
taphysical spirit.
at some length ; that I may have
leave
to
consider
beg

an opportunity of confuting a very dangerous error,

and, at the same time, of displaying more minutely,
than by this general description, the difference be
tween metaphysical and philosophical investigation.
Does any one imagine, that moral, intellectual,
and corporeal virtues, that justice, genius, and bo
dily strength, are virtues of the same kind ; that
they are contemplated with the same sentiments,
and known to be virtues by the same criterion? Few,
but Mr HUME has
I presume, are of this opinion
a
taken
of pains to prove
and
deal
it,
adopted
great
;

shall demonstrate,

it.

that

this

very important

error has arisen, either from inaccurate observation,

or from his being imposed on by words not well un

derstood, or rather from both causes.

It is true, that justice, great genius, and
bodily
strength, are all useful to the possessor and to society ;
and all agreeable to, or (which in this author s

style

amounts

to the

same

approved by every one

who considers or contemplates them. They there
fore, at least the two first, completely answer to our
author
*

It is

thingj)

definition

of virtue *.

the nature,

and indeed the

a quality of the

"

that

"

by, every one

it is

who

And

it

would be

definition, of virtue,

mind agreeable to,

considers or contemplates
333. edit. 1767. Note.

or approved
Hume s

it."

2.
Essays,
Bodily qualities are indeed excluded by this definition,
but admitted by our author in his subsequent
"Jo/.

/>.

reasonings.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

270

PART

III;

easy to write a great book, to show the reasons why

moral, intellectual, and corporeal abilities, yield plea
sure to the beholder and possessor, and to trace out
a number of analogies, real or verbal, subsisting be
tween them. But this is nothing to the purpose
they may resemble in ten thousand respects, and yet
differ as widely, as a beast or statue differs from a
man. Let us trace the author s argument to its
:

source.

Virtue is known by a certain agreeable feeling

or sentiment, arising from the consciousness of cer
tain affections or qualities in ourselves, or from the
view of them in others. Granted. Justice, hu
a handsome
manity, generosity, excite approbation ;
face excites approbation
great genius excites ap
effect
sentiment
the
or
produced is the
probation
same in each instance the object, or cause, must
therefore, in each instance, be of the same kind.
but before a man can
This is genuine metaphysic
be misled by it, he must either find, on consulting
his experience, that the feeling excited by the con
templation of these objects is the same in each in
;

stance ; in which case I would say, that his feelings

are defective, or himself an inaccurate observer of
or he must suppose, that the word appronature
luitiotij because written and pronounced the same way,
does really mean the same thing in each of the three
:

propositions above mentioned, in which case, I would

are confounded by
say, that his judgment and ideas
I am conthe mere sound and shape of a word.
scions, that my approbation of a fine face is different

approbation of great genius and

from my approba
if I call
tion of justice, humanity, and generosity
these three different kinds of approbation by the
sam general name, I use that name in three different
and corsignifications. Therefore moral, intellectual,
virtues, are not of the same, but of different
in kind

from

my

that both are extremely different

:-

kinds.

CHAP.

AN

II.

fcSSAY

ON TRUTH.

27!

I confess, says our author, that these three virtues

are contemplated with three different kinds of appro
bation. But the same thing is true of different moral
virtues
piety excites one kind of approbation, jus
:

the virtues of
and compassion a third
Cato excite our esteem, those of Cesar our love if
therefore piety, justice, and compassion, be virtues
tice another,

of the same kind, notwithstanding that they excite

kinds of approbation, why should justice,
beauty, be accounted virtues of different
genius,
This is another metaphysical argument 5
kinds * ?
different

a"nd

an attempt to determine by words what facts only

can determine.
I still insist on fact and experience.
sentiments, in regard to these virtues, are so
diversified, and in each variety so peculiar, that I
know, and am assured that piety, justice, and hu
manity, are distinct individual virtues of the samekind ; and that piety, genius, and beauty, are virtues
of different kinds.
Applied to each of the former
virtue means the same thing ;
qualities, the word
but beauty is virtue in one sense, genius in another,

My

and piety in a third.

Well, if the sentiments excited in you by the con.
templation of these virtues, are so much diversified,
in each variety so peculiar, you must be able to
explain in what respect your approbation of intel
lectual, virtue differs from your approbation of moral ;

and

which

I presume you will find no easy task.

It is
not so difficult, Sir, as you seem to apprehend.
When a man has acted generously, or justly I praise
him, and think him worthy of praise and reward,
for having done his duty ; when ungenerously or

him ; and think him worthy of

blame and punishment ; but a man deserves neither
punishment nor blame for want of beauty or of un
derstanding ; nor reward nor praise for being hand-

unjustly, I blame

* Treatise of

Human

fesays, ubi supra.

Nature, vol.

3. p.

258,

Hume

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

III.

or ingenius
But why are we thought wor
thy of blame and punishment for being unjust, and
not for being homely, or void of understanding ? The
general conscience of mankind would reply, Because
\ve have it in our power to be just, and ought to be
so ; but an idiot cannot help his want of understand
ing, nor an ugly man his want of beauty. This our
author will not allow to be a satisfactory answer;
because, says he, I have shown that free-will has no
place with regard to the actions, no more than the

some

men *. What an immense metaphysical

labyrinth should we have to run through if we were
to disintangle ourselves out of this argument in the
common course of logic To shorten the controver
sy, I must beg leave to affirm, in my turn, that our
moral actions are in our own power, though beauty
and genius are not j and to appeal, for proof of this
affirmation, to the second part of this Essay, or, ra
ther, to the common sense of mankind.
qualities of

Moral distinctions," says Mr HUME,

Again,
arise from the natural distinctions of pain and
pleasure ; and when we receive those feelings from,
"

**
"

the general considerations of any quality or chardenominate it virtuous or vitious.

*
no one will assert, that a quality can ne"

"

f
<5f

Now

acter, we
I believe

ver produce pleasure or pain to the person who considers it, unless it be perfectly voluntary in the

More metaphysic
person who possesses it
and a sophism too a petitio principii ! Here our
author endeavours to confound intellectual with mo
!

f."

by an argument which supposeth his

theory of virtue to be true ; of which theory
this confusion of the virtues is a necessary conse
quence. The reader must see, that this argument,
if it prove any thing at all, might be made to prove
that the smell or beauty of a rose, the taste of an
of a
apple, the hardness of steel, and the glittering

ral virtue,

own

* Treatise of
* Id ibid.

Human

Nature, vol.

3. p.

260.

AN ESSAY OX TRUTH.

CHAP. II.

273

bodily strength and great genius

are all virtues of the same kind with justice, gener
Still we wander from the
osity, and graticude.
it be repeated,
must
that this
often
How
point.
matter is to be determined, not by metaphysical ar
guments founded on ambiguous words, but by facts

diamond, as well

and experience

as

Have I not appealed to facts?" he

Are not all the qualities that constitute
man, constancy, fortitude, magnanimity,
"

"

"

will say,
the great
as invol-

untary and necessary, as the qualities of the judg

The term great man is
ment and imagination ?*
so very equivocal, that I will have nothing to do
with it. The vilest scoundrel on earth, if possessed
of a title immediately commences great man, when
he has with impunity perpetrated any extraordina
ry act of wickedness ; murthered fifty thousand
men robbed all the houses of half a dozen provin
"

"

or dexterously plundered his own country, to

defray the expence of a ruinous war, contrived on
purpose to satiate his avarice, or divert the public
attention from his blunders and villanies.
I speak
of the qualities that constitute the good man, that is,
of moral qualities ; and these, I affirm, to be xvithces

in

every man

reach,

though genius and beauty are

not,
"

**
"

But

are not

men

afraid of passing for

good-na-

tured, lest that should be taken for want of underand do they not often boast of more
standing ?

debauches than they have been really engaged in,

to give themselves airs of fire and spirit
Yes
fools do the first, to recommend themselves to fools ;
and profligates the best, to recommend themselves to
but he is little acquainted with the hu
profligates
man heart, who does not perceive, that such senti"

"

?i"

* Treatise of
Treatise of

Human
Human

Nature, vol.
Nature, vol.
2

3. p.

259.

3. p,

257^

A tf ESSAY ON TRUTH.

274

P^RT

rnents are affected, and contrary to the

is most natural to mankind *

way

m.

of think

ing that

But are you not as jealous of your character,

with regard to sense and knowledge, as to honour
and courage ? *
This question ought to be ad
dressed to those in ivhom courage is a virtue, and
and I am certain, there is not
the want of it a vice
in his Majesty s service one officer or private man,
who would not wish to be thought rather a valiant
"

"

<(

soldier, though of no deep reach, than a very clever

fellow, \vith the addition of an infamous coward.
The term honour is of dubious import. According

to the notions of these times,, a man may blaspheme

sell his country, murder his friend, pick the
pocket of his fellow-sharper, and employ his whole

God,

seducing others to vice and perdition, and yet

be accounted a man of honour j provided he be ac
customed to speak certain, words, wear certain clothes,
and haunt certain company. If this be the honour

life in

alluded to by the author, an honest man may, for a

very slender consideration, renounce all pretensions
But if he allude (as I rather suppose) to
to it.
those qualities of the heart and understanding which
intitle one to general esteem and confidence, Mr
HUME knows, that this kind of honour is- nearer to a

man

than

life.

is a virtue in
every staconvicted of
yet would you not chuse to be
I have
drunkenness rather than of ignorance ?
heard ot a witty parson, who, having been dismissed
"

"

Well, then, temperance

tion

*"

"

conversation,
regularities, used afterwards,
to say, that he thanked God he was not cashiered for.
but only for vice and imignorance and insufficiency,
moralitv.
According to our author s doctrine, this
in

for

but I am
speech was neither absurd nor profane
sure the generality of mankind would be of a different
:

* Treatise of

Ibid.

Human

Nature, vol.

3. p.

257.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

275

be ignorant of what we ought to know,

opinion.
is to be deficient in moral virtue ; to profess to know
what we are ignorant of, is falsehood, a breach of
moral virtue whether these vices be more or less
atrocious than intemperance, must be determined by
To be igno
the circumstances of particular cases.
rant of what we could not know, of what we do not
profess to know, and of what it is not our duty to
know, is no vice at all and a man must have made
some progress in debauchery, before he can say, from
serious conviction, I would rather be chargeable with
intemperance, than with ignorance of this kind
These, and many of our author s mistakes, must be
imputed to want of knowledge of human nature :

To

which

suppose

is

owing

to his

having confined his

observation chiefly to the outside of what is called

fashionable life, where the sentiments publicly avowed are often different from what is inwardly
felt, and extremely different from the truth and sim
plicity of nature.
It appears, then, that our author s
reasoning on
the present subject, is not philosophical, but what I
*
call
not
but

on fact,
metaphysical ; being founded,
on theory, and supported by ambiguous words and
inaccurate experience.
The judgment of the wiser ancients in matters of
morality, is doubtless of very great weight, but, in
opposition to our own experience, can never prepon
derate
because this is our ultimate standard of
Mr HUME endeavours to confirm his theory
truth.
of virtue by authorities from the ancients, particular
ly the Stoics and Peripatetics.
Though he had ac
:

complished
*

this,

we might have

appealed from their

do not contend, that

tills use of the word

metaphysi
I mean nothing more, than to
proper
give
the reader a notion of this particular mode of false reason

cal

ing

is

strictly

and,

by

satisfying him that

its influence.

guard him against

it is

not philosophical^ to

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

275

PART

III.

opinion, as well as from his, to our own feelings.

But he fails in this, as in the other parts of his proof.
It is true, the Peripatetics and Stoics made Pru

dence the first (not the most important) of the car

dinal virtues ; because they conceived it necessary
to enable a man to act his part aright in life, and be
cause they thought it their duty to take every op
portunity of improving their nature but they never
said, that an incurable defect of understanding is a
vice, or that it is as much our duty to be learned and
All the
ingenious, as to be honest and grateful.
*
praise of virtue consists in action," says Cicero *,
in name of the Stoics, when treating of this virtue
:

"

of prudence. And, when explaining the comparative

merit of the several classes of moral duty, he declares,
that
All knowledge which is not followed by ac*
tion, is unprofitable and imperfect, like a beginning without an end, or a foundation without a
61
superstructure ; and that the acquisition of the
most sublime and most important science ought to
be, and will by every good man be relinquished,
*
when it interferes with the duties we owe our
Wisdom,
country, our parents, and society
indeed, he allows to be the first and most excellent
of the virtues but it is well known, that the Stoics
:.nade a distinction between Prudence and Wisdom.
"

"

"

"

f."

By prudence they meant that virtue which regulates

our desires and aversions, and fixes them on proper
mental per
objects. Wisdom was another name for
fection

it

comprehended

all

the virtues, the

religi

and prudential ; and

was equally incompatible with vice and with error f.
The wise man, the standard of Stoicd excellence,

ous

as

well

was, by their

as

the

social

own acknowledgement,

an ideal c.ia-

the purest virtue attainable in this life being

Hence some
necessarily tainted with imperfection.
racter

De

officiis, lib. 1,

cap. 6.
Id,

44.
f Id. lib. 1. cap. 43,
ib.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

277"

have endeavoured to turn their notions of wisdom

into ridicule ; but 1 think, without reason.
For is
there any thing absurd or ridiculous in an artist
working after a model of such perfection as he can
never hope to equal ? In the judgment of Aristotle
and Bacon, the true poet forms his imitations of na*
ture after a model of ideal perfection, which perhaps
And are
hath no existence but in his own mind *...

commanded to imitate the Deity hiir^

great original and standard of perfection,
between whom and the- most excellent of his crea
tures an infinite distance must remain for ever f ?
The ancient moralists," says Mr Hume, "made
not Christians
self, that

"

no material distinction among the different species

To every
of mental endowments and defects
person who has read them, the contrary is well
known. I might here fill many a page with quota
Man s virtue and
tions, but a few will suffice
"

"

J."

"

"

"

"

"

Marcus Aurdius, "consists not in

vice," says
those affections in which we are passive, but in acTo a stone thrown upward, it is no evil to
tion.
And in ano
fall, nor good to have mounted
$."

The vain-glorious man placeth his good

ther place,
**
in the action of another ; the sensual, in his own
in his own action
passive feelings j the wise man,,
"

||."

* Aristot. Poetica.

Bacon,

De

augmentis scientarium,

lib. 2.

Matth.

Hume
Qvll

v. 48.
s

y]

Essays, vol. 2. p. 3S7, 388.

aiTV K KOLxioi an TV tv Tr uau

o.x>.oc

Lib.
O*
||

fjilv

7TO\OL/!/.fi3.Vir

tliav

<piholc%oc

$&rff&

Oi f /X/ jOOFOC

toMl

iv

fytixv

TliiTiy

ix. c.

IX

(/iov ayct.$ov v-

06 YOVY,

t%W,

cr^a^/r.

Lib. 6.

c.

51,

AM ESSAY

278
"

**

**

TRUTH.

0!N*

PART

The contemplative

III.

when it
life," says Plutarch,
produce the active, is unprofitable *." "To
is of no use, if
acquire knowledge," says Lucian,
"

fails to

"

we do

not also frame our lives according to some**

better
It is remarkable that the Greek
thing
not
know
by what authority, for Ho
tragedians (I
mer s idea is very different^) represent Ulysses as a
character more distinguished for political prudence
or cunning, than for strict moral virtue ; and often
"

f."

make him appear o-

him in such attitudes as

dious on this very account ^.

place

O*

li

SvATixaf

And

Cicero in his

C/0f TV

Plutarch, de Educatione.

Oully

o<pA0

j"

TOY

KfX

fiY

fzcrtfd^oit Toi jua.&; tuoc.Ta f

TO
flO&fpQftffyt 7TpO{

UY)
(

rif

t\T/GV.

Lucian. Conviv.

^ See particularly Sophocles. Philoct. vers. 100. and

I beg leave to quote a few very remarkable
vers. 1260.
lines.
Neoptolemus having, by the advice of Ulysses,
fraudulently got possession of the arrows of Philoctetes,
repents of what he had done, and is going to restore them.

To

deter

him from

the resentment of
Neot>.

20!p<k
\

U/VS.

Neop.
U/ys.

2^

his purpose, Ulysses threatens

tlie

TrtyvKbs cvliv i^o

"

OVTi

A\\

it

Ka/

TTCJC

<pd)X/V ,

$nidiec,

OVTl

ruv coyuv xpii

a y eAaCtf

QIKOUQV,

TCLVTOL

Neop.

a**

U/ys.
Neofi.

him with

whole Grecian army.

"^TPOCTOV

SuV rw

<pok>,i

X/idfiS

TOY yov ov

r^

TrqaLvvw race

oy.

rapCw

<poo

Krs. 1279.
.

Thou

Necp*
talkest

Wise

most

as

idly.

Either in word or deed.

thou

art,

U/ys.

Wisdom

Neop.

Know,

If better far than to be wise,

Ufys.

Ulysses,
is

to

not thine,
be Just

But where ?

CHAP.

II.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

Treatise of moral duties, often declares, that cunning,

when it violates the rules of justice, is criminal and
detestable. Does Virgil consign cripples and idiots,
as well .s tyrants, to Tartarus ? does he say, that agreat memory and handsome face r as well as a pureheart, were the passports to Elysium ? No
Virgil
was too good a man to injure the cause of virtue, and
too wise to shock common sense by so preposterous
The im
a distribution of reward and punishment.
pious, the unnatural, the fraudulent, the avaricious :
adulterers, incestuous persons, traitors, corrupt judg
es, venal statesmen, tyrants, and the minions of ty
rants, are those whom he dooms to eternal misery ;
and he peoples Elysium with the shades of the pure
and the pious, of "heroes who have died in defence of
their country, of ingenious men who have employed,
:

their talents in recommending piety and virtue, and

of all who by acts of beneficence have merited the
love and. gratitude of their fellow-creatures *..

Where

is the
justice, thus unauthorised,
give a treasure back thou owest to me,
And to my counsels ? Ncop. I have done a wrong,

To

And

make atonement for it.

Dost thou not fear the power of Greece ? Ntop.
Nor Greece, nor th.ee, when 1 am doing right.
1 will try to

Ufys.

fear<

Frank/in.

Throughout the whole play, the fire and generosity of

the young hero (so well-becoming the son of Achilles) is
finely opposed to the caution and craft of the politician, and
forms one of the most striking contrasts that can well be

imagined.
*

As the moral senti

Virgil, ^.neid vi. 547665.
ments of nations may often be learned from their fabler
and traditions, as well as from their history and philoso*
phy, it will not perhaps be deemed foreign from our design,
to give the
following brief abstract of this poet s sublime
the outlines cf
theory of future rewards and punishments
which, he is known to h3,ve taken from the Pythagoreans
-,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

FART

III.

The

Peripatetics held prudence to be an active

principle, diffused through the whole of moral vir-

and Platonists, who probably were indebted for them to

some ancient tradition.
The shades below are divided by Virgil into three dis
tricts or provinces.

On

this side Styx, the souls of those

whose bodies have not been honoured with the rites of se

pulture, wander about in a melancholy condition for a
hundred years, before they are permitted to pass the

river.

When
they

this period expires, or when their- bodies are buried,

are ferried over, and appear before Minos and the o-

who allot them such a mansion as their lives

en earth are found to have deserved. They, who have
Been of little, or no use to mankind, or who have not been
guilty of any very atrocious crimes j or whose crimes,
though atrocious, were the effects rather of an unhappy
ther judges,

destiny, than of wilful depravation, are disposed of in dif

ferent parts of the regions of mourning, (lugentes campi),
From
where they undergo a variety of purifying pains.

when thoroughly

from all the remains of

where they live a thousand
and then, after taking a
;
draught of the waters of oblivion, are sent back to earth
to animate new bodies.
Those who have been guilty of
as impiety, want of natural affection, adulte
crimes,
great

thence,

refined

vice, they pass into Elysium,,

years in a state of happiness

ry, incest, breach of trust, subverting the liberties of their

country, &c. are delivered by the judge Rhadamanthus to

Tisiphone and the other furies, who shut them up in an

immense dungeon of darkness and fire, called Tartarus,
where their torments are unspeakable and eternal. The
souls of good men are re-united, either with the Deity him
self,

or with that universal spirit which he created in the

and their
animates the world

beginning, and which

*,

shades, ghosts, or idola, enjoy for ever the repose and plea
sure- of Elysium.
These s-hades might be seen, though

they resembled the bodies with which they

tad formerly been invested 5 and retained a consciousness
of their identity, and a remembrance of their past life, with
almost the same affections and character that had distin
guished them, on earth.

not touched

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
1

CHAP,

II.

None but a good man," says Aristotle,

tue
and a little after, ** It is not poscan be prudent
*
sible for a man to be properly good without pru"

*."

"

j"

"

dence, nor prudent without moral virtue

f."

Will

On this system, Virgil has founded a series of the sublimest descriptions that are to be met with in poetry.
Milton alone has equalled them in the first and second
Homer s Necyomanteia, in the
books of Paradise Lost.
eleventh of the Odyssey, has the merit of being original j
The
but Virgil s imitation is confessedly far superior.
dream of Henry, in the seventh canto of the Henriade, not
withstanding the advantages that the author might have
drawn from the Christian theology, is but a trifle, compar
ed with the magnificent and stupendous scenery exhibited
in the sixth

book of the

./Eneid.

This theory of future rewards

ar.d punishments, however

consonant enough with the hopes and fears of
men, and their natural notions of virtue and vice, to ren
der the poet s narrative alarming and interesting in a very
But were an author to adopt Mr Hume s
high degree.
theory of virtue and the soul, and endeavour to set it off
in a poetical description, all the powers of human
genius,
could not save it from being ridiculous.
metaphysician
round about a meanmay blunder" for a long time,
without giving any violent shock to an inattentive
ing,"
reader but a poet v;ho clothes his thoughts with
image

imperfect,

is

"

"

"

ry,

and

them by examples, must come to the

if he means to please, and not
disgust
move their admiration, and not their con

illustrates

point at once

his readers, to

and,

tempt, must be careful not to contradict their natural no

such deep and universal con

tions, especially in matters of

cern as morality and religion.

AWyxn TW Qfotww

uv&i

t%ty

Ethic,

A&uVaTOK
"j*

$povi{A.w

urai prj

7Tfaxr;>t;V.

ad Nicom.

OVTOL

vi. 5.

aya^cx.

Id. vi. 13,

See the elegant paraphrase of Andronicus the

upon these passages.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
it

-FART

yet be said, that the ancient moralists

terial distinction

between moral and

III,

made no ma

intellectual vir

not evident, that though they considered

formation of a perfect char
acter, and sometimes discoursed of both in the same
treatise or system, yet they deemed the latter valu
able only as means to qualify us for the former, and
insignificant, or even odious, when they failed to an
tues

Is it

both

as necessary to the

swer

this

*
"

*
"

41

We

end

says Mr Hume,
by perusing the
titles of the chapters in Aristotle s Ethics, be convinced, that he ranks courage, temperance, magni"

"

may,"

magnanimity, modesty, prudence, and a

manly freedom among the virtues, as well as jus-

licence,

True ; but if our learned

and friendship
had
his researches a little
extended
metaphysician
.beyond the titles of those chapters, he would have
tice

*."

Moral virtue
found, that, in Aristotle s judgment,
is a voluntary disposition or habit ; and that moral approbation or disapprobation are excited by
"

"

"

*
*.*

"

"

those actions and affections only which are in our

own power ; that is, of which the first motion arises in ourselves,

cause

and proceeds from no extrinsic

f."

This is true philosophy it is accurate, perspicu

ous, and just, and very properly determines the de
gree of merit of our intellectual and constitutional
:

virtues,

A man makes proficiency in knowledge

Hume

s
Essays, vol. 2. p. 388. The term manly
not
does
express the meaning of the Greek. \KV&Ifreedom
was perhaps misled by the etymology
Hume
Mr
fw\y\S*
:

but he ought to have known, that by this word the phi

moderate
losopher denotes that virtue which consists in the
use of wealth

Kicom.

lib. 4.

ff\fi

Af^aotTa ptwoTnt.

See Ethic, ad

cap. 1,2.

ii. 6.
f Etnic. ad Nicom. iii. 1.
Mag. Mor. i. 15.
Andronicus Rhodius, p. 89, 90, 188. edit. Cantab. 1679.

Stephanus, in voce

AN ESSAY ON "TRUTH.

ir.

he has acted from a desire to improve his

nature, and qualify himself for moral virtue, that
desire, and the action consequent upon it, are virtu
ous, laudable and of good desert. Is a man possessed of
if in this

great genius?

this invests

and

him

stinction,

qualifies

him with

dignity and di

for noble undertakings

no moral virtue; because it is

not a disposition resulting from a spontaneous effort.
Is his constitution naturally disposed to virtue ? he
still has it in his power to be vitious, and therefore
but this of

itself is

is truly meritorious 5 though not so

high
ly as that of another man, who, in spite of outrage
ous appetites, and tempting circumstances, hath at
tained an equal degree of moral improvement.
man

his virtue

constitutionally brave, generous, or grateful,

mands our admiration more than another, who
gles to

overcome the natural baseness of

his

com
strug

temper.

The former is

a sublimer object, and may be of great

er service to society ; and as his virtue is secured

constitution as well as

by

by

inclination,

we

repose

without fear of being disappointed. Yet per

haps the latter, if his merit were equally conspicu
ous, would be found equally worthy of our moral

in

it

Indeed, if his virtue be so irresolute

approbation.
as to leave him wavering between good and evil, he
is not entitled to praise
such irresolution is crimi
nal, because he may, and ought to correct it; we
can not, and we ought not to trust him, till we see a
strong prepossession established in favour of virtue.
However, let us love virtue wherever we find it :
whether the immediate gift of heaven, or the effect
of human industry co-operating with divine influence,
it
always deserves our esteem and veneration.
The reader may now form an estimate at that au
thor s attention, who says, that
the ancient moral:

"

made no

material distinction

"

ists

"

ent species of mental

any one

my

among

endowments and

the diff?r-

defects.*

If

disposed to think, that I have made out

point rather by inference than by direct proof, I
is

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

284

TART

III.

submit to his consideration the following

passages,
which are too plain to need a commentary.
.Having proposed a general distribution of our mental powers, (which seems to amount to
this, that
some of them fit us for knowledge, and others for ac
Accordtion) Aristotle proceeds in this manner.
"

"

"

"

ing to this distribution, virtue is also divided into

intellectual and moral.
Of the former kind are

wisdom intelligence, and prudence of the latter,

temperance and frugal liberality. "When we speak
of morals, we do not say, that a man is wise or
intelligent, but that he is gentle or temperate. Yet
we praise a wise man in respect of his dispositions
;

"

"

"

for laudable dispositions are

"

[or habits]
"

"

"

"

"

**
"

"

call virtues

The

what we

*."

virtues of the

and
soul,"
says Cicero,
its principal part the
understanding, are various,
but may be reduced to two kinds. The first are
"

of

those which nature has implanted, and which are

The second kind are more

called not voluntary.
properly called virtues, because they depend on the
and these, as objects of approbation, are
Of the former kind are
docility, memory, and all the virtues distinguished
will

transcendently superior.

"

"

"

"

the general name of genius, or capacity

persons possessed of them are called ingenuous.
The
latter class comprehends the great and genuine

by

<uir-

"

tues,

which we denominate voluntary,

/era;
OL^
JS.lv,

ll KOLI

Y}

auTuv T&i
XOU

oe

(7VVt!7lV,

xa;

OL^TYI
fj.lv
X.CCI

Kara

TYIV
X/apofax. TO.UTVY.
d/a^o^r/x^c, ra; ll r

q^WlV,
^9/Kaf.

GtotyfOffvvviv,

v teyo^iv crt votpw,

l KXI TOY

\i

llOLYOnTtX.O(.C

XeyoKrec

VVVITO/;,

<TO<OY

Ethic,

as prudence,

TY.V

ad Nicom.

axx

tlY

yap
OTI

TUV

lib. 1.

sub. Jin.

CHAP.
"

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

temperance, fortitude, justice,

same kind

285

and others of the

*."

The word

virtue has indeed great latitude of sigdenotes any quality of a thing tending
to the happiness of a percipient being ; it denotes
that quality, or perfection of qualities, by which a
answer its end ; sometimes it de
thing is fitted to
notes power or agency in general ; and sometimes
any habit which improves the faculties of the human
In the first three senses we ascribe virtue to
rnind.

nification.

It

the soul, and to the body, to brutes, and inanimate

to our intellectual as well as
things ; in the last,
moral nature. And no doubt instances may be found
cf ambiguity and want of precision, even in the best
Yet
moralists, from an improper use of this word.
I believe this attempt of Mr HUME S is the first
that has been made to prove, that among these very
different sorts of virtue there is little or no difference.

Our author seems

indeed to have a singular aversion

kind of curiosity, which, not satisfied with
knowing the names, is industrious to discover the
When he finds two or three dif
natures of things.
ferent things called by the same name, he will rather

to that

%v rite fifty pages of metaphysic to prove that they are

the same, than give himself the trouble to examine

* Animi
autem, et eius animi partis quse prmceps est,
quceque mens nominatur, plures simt virtutes, sed duo primn

unum earum quae ingenerantur suapte natura, apgenera

alterum autem earum, quce
pellanturquc non voluntariae
in voluntate positae, magis proprie eo nomine appellari so:

quarumestexcellensinanimorumlaudeprciestantia. Priest docilitas, memoria , qualia fere omnia appellantur uno ingenii nomine j casque virtutes qui habent
Alterum autem genus est magnaruw
ingeniosi vocantur.

lent

oris generis

verarumque -virtutiim, quas appellamus voluntaries, ut prudentiam, temperantiam, fcrtitndinem, justitiam, et reliquas
ejusdeni generis.

Virtutes voluntaries proprie virtutes

appellantur, multumquc excellunt, &c.

Cicera De Finibus, lib. 5.
i3. ex editions Davisii.
caj>.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

III.

them

so as to see what they really are *.

Is it not
strange, that a man of science should ever have taken
it in his head, that the chacteristic of a
genus is a
sufficient description of a species ? He might as well
have supposed, that because perception and self-mo

tion belong to animal life in general, it is therefore

a sufficient definition of man, to call him a self-mov

ing and percipient creature

from which profound

principle it clearly follows, that

that a beast is a man.

man

is a beast,

and

By such reasoning as Mr HUME has used on the

present occasion, it would be easy to prove any doc
The method is this
trine.
and I hope those who
hereafter
to
chuse
astonish
the world with a
may
system of metaphysical paradoxes, will do me the
honour and the justice to acknowledge, that I was
the first who unfolded the whale art and mystery of
that branch of manufacture within the compass of
:

one short RECIPE

is

Take

the most convenient)

a word (an abstract term

which admits of more than

and by the help of a predicate and

;
copula, form a proposition, suitable to your system,
or to your humour, or to any other thing you please,
one signification

When laying down your premises,

except truth.
you are to use the name of the quality or subject, in
one sense ; and, when inferring your conclusion, in
You are then to urge a few equivocal
another.
very slightly examined, (the more slightly the
betteO, as a further proof of the said conclusion ;
and to shut up all with citing some ancient authori
facts,

real or licfitious,

ties, either

as

may

best suit

your

few occasional strictures on religion as

purpose.
an U lphilosophical -thing, and a sneer at the Whole

Duty of Man

f, or any other good book, will give

your Dissertation what many are pleased to call a

"liberal

turn

Se?,

and will go near to convince the world,

anotuer remarkable instance, Part 2. chap. 2.

ect. 1. of tins Essay.

-If

t See

Hume

Essays, vol. 2. p. 338. edit. 1767.

GHAF.

II.

AN

ESS AT

ON

TRtftlf.

2y

you are a candid philosopher, a manly free

thinker, and a very. fine writer .
It is to no purpose that our author calls this averbal dispute, and sometimes condescends to soften
that

matters by an almost, or some such evasive word.

His doctrine obviously tends to confound all our
ideas of virtue and duty, and to make us consider
ourselves as mere machines, acted upon by external
and irresistible impulse, and not more accountable
for moral blemishes, than for ignorance, want of un
If the
derstanding, poverty, deformity, and disease.
reader think as seriously of the controversy as I do,
he will pardon the length of this digression.
I hope it now appears, that there is a kind of me*
taphysic, which, whatever respectable names it may
have assumed, deserves contempt or censure from
If it be detrimental to science,
every lover of truth.
it is
Whenever one
equally so to the affairs of life.
enters on business, the metaphysical spirit must be
laid aside, otherwise it will render him ridiculous,
Sure it will not be said, that
perhaps detestable.

any portion of this spirit is necessary to form a man

for stations of high importance.
For these, a turn
to metaphysic would be as effectual a
disqualifi
cation as want of understanding.
The

metaphy

wavering, distrustful, and perpetually

ruminates on words, distinctions, arguments and sys
tems. He attends to the events of life with a view
chiefly to the system that happens for the time to
predominate in his imagination, and to which he is*
anxious to reconcile every appearance.
His obser
vation is therefore partial and inaccurate, because,
he contemplates nature through the medium of his
favourite theory, which is always false; so that, ex
perience, which enlarges, ascertains, and methodises,
sician is cold,

the knowledge of other men, serves

only to heighten
the natural darkness and contusion of his.
His li~
studies are conducted with the same
spirit,,
and produce the same effects
Whereas, to the ada 3

terary

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

1IJ.

ministration of great affairs, truth and steadiness of

principle, constancy of mind, intuitive sagacity, ex
treme quickness in apprehending the present and an
ticipating the future, are indispensably necessary.
Whatever tends to weaken and unsettle the mind, to
cramp the imagination, to fix the attention on minute

and trifling objects, and withdraw it from those en

larged prospects of nature and mankind, in which
true genius loves to expatiate ; whatever has this ten
dency, and surely metaphysic has it, is the bane of
genius, and of every thing that is great in human
nature.
In the lower walks of life, our theorist will be
oftener the object of ridicule than of detestation.
Yet even here, the man is to be pitied, who, in mat
ters of moment, happens to be connected with a
stanch metaphysician.
Doubts, disputes, and con
If his as
jectures, will be the plague of his life.
sociate form a system of action or inaction, of doubt
or confidence, he will stick by it, however absurd,
as long as he has one verbal argument unanswered to
In accounting for the conduct
in defence of it.

urge
of others, he will reject obvious causes, and set him
self to explore such as are more remote and refined.
Making no proper allowance for the endless variety
of human character, he will suppose all men influen
ced, like himself, by system and verbal argument :
certain causes, in his judgment,
duce certain effects ; for he has

must of necessity pro

twenty reasons ready

to offer, by which it is demonstrable, that they can

and it is well, if experience, at last con
not fail
vince him, that there was a small verbal ambiguity
in his principles, and that his views of mankind were
not quite so extensive as they ought to have been.
In a word, unless he be very good-natured, and of a
:

his refinements will do more

passive disposition,
harm than even the stiff stupidity of un idiot. If
inclined to fraud, or ai.y sort of vce, he will i:ever
be at a iojS for an evasion j which, if it should not

CAP.

II.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

289

perplex and plague him

most effectually. 1 need not enlarge the reader may
To aid his fancy, he will find
conceive the rest.
some traits of this character, in one of its most amusing and least disagreeable forms, delineated with
a masterly pencil in the person, of Walter Shandy,
satisfy his associate

will

Esquire.
It, is. astonishing to consider, how little mankind
value the good within their reach, and how ardently
they pursue what nature has placed beyond it ; how

what they have no experience

how
and
of,
fondly they admire what they do not
understand This verbal rnetaphysic has been digniiied with the name of science, and verbal metaphy
sicians have been reputed philosophers, and men of
Doubtless a man of genius may, by the
genius.
fashion of the times, be seduced into these studies
but that particular cast of mind which fits a man for
blindly they over-rate

them^and recommends them to his choice, is not ge

nius, but a minute and feeble understanding ; capable
indeed of being made, by long practice, expert in the
management of words
ver will, qualify any
tration of sentiment.

but which never did, and ne

man

for the discovery or illus*

For what

is
genius? What,"
but sound judgment, sensibility of heart, and a talent
for accurate and extensive observation ? And will
sound judgment prepare a man for being imposed on
by words? will sensibility of heart Tender him in
sensible to his own feelings and inattentive to those

men ? will a talent for accurate and extensive

observation, make him ignorant of the real pheno
mena of nature, and consequently, incapable of de
tecting what is false or equivocal in the representa
tion of facts ?
And yet, when facts are fairly and
of other

itilly

represented;

when human sentiments

are strong-,

and perspicuously described ; and when the

meanin^ of words is ascertained, and the same word
has always the same idea annexed to it,
there is
an end of inetaphysic.

ly

felt,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

290

PART

III.

body neither vigorous nor beautiful, in which

the size of some members is above, and that of oth
is

ers below, their due proportion

every part must
have its proper size and strength, otherwise the re
sult of the whole will be deformity and weakness.
Neither is real genius consistent with a dispropor
tionate strength of the reasoning powers above those
of taste and imagination.
Those minds in whom all
the faculties are united in their due proportion, are
:

far superior to the puerilities of metaphysical scepti

cism.
They trust to their own feelings, which are

strong and decisive, and leave no room for hesitation

doubts about their authenticity.
They see
through moral subjects at one glance ; and what
they say, carries both the heart and the understand
When one has long drudged in
ing along with it.
the dull and unprofitable pages of metaphysic, how
pleasing the transition to a moral writer of true ge
nius
Would you know what that genius is, and
where it may be found ? Go to Shakespeare, to Ba
or

con, to Johnson^ to Montesquieu, to

Rosseau *

and

As

several persons, highly respectable both for their

and principles, have desired to know my reasons for
joining Rousseau s name to those of Bacon, Shakespeare,
Johnson, and Montesquieu, I beg leave to take this oppor
talents

tunity of explaining_
brated author.
It

my

sentiments in regard to that cele

because I consider Rousseau as a moral writer cf

is

true genius, that I mention his name in this place.

Sensi
bility of heart 7 a talent for extensive and accurate obser

and ardour of fancy j and a style copious,

and
nervous,
elegant, beyond that of any other French wri
are his distinguishing characteristics. In argument
ter,
he is not always equally successful, fof lie often mistakes
declamation for proof, and hypothesis for fact j but his
eloquence, when addressed to the heart, over-powers with
vation

liveliness

greater number of important facts

relating to the human mind are recorded in his works than
in all the books of all the sceptical philosophers ancient

force irresistable.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

2C}I

Avhen you have studied them, return, if you can, to

HUME, and HOBBES, and^MALEBRANCHE, and LEIB
NITZ, and SPINOSA. If, while you learned wisdom
from the former, your heart exulted within you,
and modem.
virtue, to

And

mankind,

he appears in general to be a friend

to natural religion, and sometimes to
"to

Christianity.

Yet none even of

his best works are free from absurdi

His reasoning, on the effects of the sciences, and on
the origin and progress of human society, are diffuse, inac

ty.

curate, and often

weak

much

perverted by theo

ries

of

own, as well as by too implicit an admittance of the

vague assertions of travellers,, and of the systems and doc
and he
trines of some favourite French philosophers
seems, in these, and frequently too in his other writings, to
his

consider animal pleasure arid bodily accomplishments as

His plan of educa
the happiness and perfection of man.
tion, though admirable in many parts, ais in some injudi
The
cious and dangerous, and impracticable as a whole.
character of Julia s Lover is drawn with a masterly hand

indeed, and well conducted throughout 5 but the lady has

two characters, and those incompatible ; the Wife of
Weimar is quite a different person from the mistress of St

Wolmar

Preux.

himself

is

an impossible character ; des

destitute of feeling,
j

titute of p T.iciple, yet of ri^:d yjrtr.e

yet capable: of tenderness and attachment \ delicate in his

notions of honour, yet not ashamed to marry a woman

whom

he knew to be to

all intents

and purposes devoted to

another.

Some

of this anther s remarks on the spirit of Chris

and on the character of its .Divine Founder, are
not only excellent, but transcendency so, and 1 believe
no Christian ever read them without feeling his heart v* ar
med, and his faith confirmed. But what he says of the
absurdities which he fancies to be contained in the sacred
tianity,

history,
of the

of the impropriety of the evidence of miracles,

analogy between those of Jesus Christ and the

tiicks of jugglers,---of .he insignificancy and impertinence
of prayer,

of the sufficiency

of

human

reason for discov

ering a complete and comfortable scheme of natural reli-

ESSAY ON TRUTH.
and rejoiced

to

ful efforts of

human

PART

III.

contemplate the sublime and success

intellect ; perhaps it
may now
be of use, as a lesson of humility, to have recourse to
the latter, and, for a while, to behold the picture of
of the discouraging nature of the terms of salvation
gion,
of the measure of evidence that
offered in the Gospel,

ought to accompany divine revelation (which, as he states

would be incompatible with man s free agency and moral
probation) what he says of these, and of several other
it,

theological points of great importance, betrays a degree of

ignorance and prejudice, of which, as a philosopher, as a
scholar, and as a man, he should have been utterly asham
He appears to be distressed with his doubts ; and yet,
ed.
without having ever examined whether they be well or illfounded, scruples not to exert all his eloquence on purpose
a conduct, which I must ethem into others
condemn as illiberal,* unjust, and cruel. Had Rousseau

to infuse

ver

studied the scripture, and the writings of rational divines,

as much care as he seems to have employed in read

with

ing the books, and listening to the conversation of French

infidels, and in attending to the unchristian practices and
doctrines warranted by some ecclesiastical establishments j
I may venture to assure him, that his mind would have

been much more at ease, his works much more valuable,

and his memory much dearer to all good men.
Rousseau is, in my opinion, a great philosophical genius,,
but wild, irregular, and often self-contradictory 5 disposed,
from the fashion of the times, and from his desire of being
reputed a bold speaker and freethinker, to adopt the doc
trines of infidelity j but of a heart too tender, and an ima
too lively, to permit him to become a thorough
Had he lived in an age less addicted to
hypothesis, he might have distinguished himself as a mo
gination

paced

i:ifideJ.

What

ral philosopher of the first rank.

pity, that a pro
per sense of his superiority to his contemporaries upon the

continent could not preserve

him from

the contagion of

example For, though now it is the fashion for eve

French
declaimer to talk of Bacon and Newton, I
ry
question, whether in any age since the days of Socrates the
as in the
building of fanciful theories was so epidemical
their

CHAP.

AN

II.

ESSAY ON TRUTH

$93

a soul wandering from thought to thought, without

knowing where to fix ; and from a total want of feel

of what it feels, mistaking

ing, or a total ignorance
names for things, verbal distinctions and analogies
for real difference and similitude, and the obscure in
sinuations of a bewildered understanding, puzzled

with words, and perverted with theory, for the sen

timents of nature, and the dictates of reason.

metaphysician, exploring the recesses of the human

heart has just such a chance for finding the truth, as
a man with microscope eyes would have for finding
The latter might amuse himself with
the road.
contemplating the various mineral strata that are
diffused along the expansion of a needle s point; but
of the face of nature he could make nothing ; he
would start back with horror from the caverns yaw
ning between the mountainous grains of sand that lie
before him ; but the real gulf or mountain he could
not see at all.
present.

ingenuity

whose name
are now no

men

of learning formerly employed their

defending the theories of that philosopher by
they were ambitious to be distinguished j they

If the
in.

less industrious in
devising and vindicating,
a theory of his own.
To conclude the writings of this author, with all their
imperfections, may be read by the philosopher with advantage

each

man

and interpreta
and by the Christian without detriment, as
the cavils they contain against religion are too slight and
too paradoxical to weaken the faith of any one who is tol
erably instructed in the principles and evidence of Chris
To the man of taste they can never fail to re
tianity.
commend themselves, by the irresistible charms of the
as they often direct to the right observation

tion of nature

composition.

The

me

improprieties in Rousseau s late conduct appear to

to have arisen rather from bcdily
infirmity than from

moral depravation, and consequently to render him an ob

and pity, rather than of persecution or

ject of forbearance
ridicule.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

TIT.

Is the futility of

metaphysical systems exaggerat

ed beyond the truth by this allusion ? Tell me,
then, in which of those systems I shall find such a
description of the soul of man as would enable me to
know what it is.
great and excellent author ob
serves, that if all human things were to perish ex
cept the works of Shakespeare, it might still be
known from them what sort of creature man was *
sentiment nobly imagined, and as just as it is
Can the same thing be said with truth of
sublime
or
of all the metaphysical treatises that have
any one,
been written on the nature of man ? If any inhabi
tant of another planet were to read The Trea
tise of Human Nature^ what notions of human na
That man must be
ture could he gather from it ?
lieve one thing by instinct^ and must also believe the
That the universe is nothing
contrary by reason
but a heap of perceptions unperceived by any sub

stance That this universe, for any thing man knows

to the contrary, might have made himself, that is,
existed before it existed ; as we have no reason to
:

believe that

it

proceeded from any cause, notwith

That though
standing it may have had a beginning
a man could bring himself to believe, yea, and have
reason to believe, that every thing in the universe
proceeds from some cause, yet it would be unreason
:

him to believe, that the universe itself proThat the soul of man is not
ceeds from a cause
the same this moment it was the last ; that w e know
not what it is ; that it is not one, but many things ;
and yet, that in this
and that it is nothing at all ;
soul is the agency of all. the causes that operate
throughout the sensible creation ; and yet, that in
able for

this soul there is neither

idea of either:

That

if

power nor agency, nor any

thieves, cheats, and

cut-

throa .s, deserve to be hanged, criuples, idiots, and

diseased person-, shouV not be permitted to live ;
* Lord
Lytt

.ti.oi/_

gues of the Dead.

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

295

because the imperfections of the latter, and the faults

of the former, are on the very same footing, both
them
being disapproved by those who contemplate
That the perfection of human knowledge is to
:

doubt

That man ought

man s
mined by

that

belief

ought

to believe nothing,

and yet

influenced and deter

to be

That we ought to
principles
doubt of every thing, yea of our doubts themselves ;
and therefore the utmost that philosophy can do, is
* :to give a doubtful solution of doubtful doubts
That nature continually imposes on us, and continual
ly counteracts herself, by giving us sagacity to de
certain

That we are necessarily an

imposture
unavoidably determined to act and think in certain
cases after a certain manner, but that we ought not
to submit to this unavoidable necessity ; and that
That man, in all his per
they are fools who do so
a mere passive ma
ceptions, actions, and volitions, is
chine, and has no separate existence of his own, being
entirely made up of other things, of the existence of
which, however, he is by no means certain ; and yet,
that the nature of all things depends so much upon
man, that two and two could not be equal to four,
nor fire produce heat, nor the sun light, without an
express act of the human understanding :- .That none
of our actions are in our power ; that we ought to
exercise power over our actions ; and that there is
That body and motion
no such thing as power
as
the
be
cause
of thought ; and that
regarded
may
That the universe exists in
body does not exist
the mind ; and that the mind does not exist
That
the human understanding, acting alone, does entirely
subvert itself, and prove by argument, that by argu
ment nothing can be proved
These are a few of
tect the

Strange as this expression may seem, it is not with

out a precedent.
The fourth section of Mr HUME S Esdoubts
says on the Human Understanding is called,
Sceptical

concerning the operations of the understanding ; and the

fth section bears this title, Sceptical solution of these doubts .

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
the

many sublime

PART

III.

mysteries brought to light by this

But these, however they

great philosopher.
illuminate our terrestrial literati, would

may

convey no
information to the planetary stranger, except
perhaps
that the sage metaphysician knew
nothing of this
subject.

What

a strange detail

Can

does not the reader ex-

any man should ever bring

himself to think, or imagine that he could
bring others to think so absurdly
What a taste, what a
heart must he possess, whose
delight it is, to repre
sent nature as a chaos, and man as a monster ; to
search for deformity and confusion, where others re
joice in the perception of order and beauty ; and to
clairn

it

be, that

seek to imbitter the happiest moments of human life,

namely, those we employ in contemplating the works
of creation, and adoring their Author, by this sug
gestion, equally false and malevolent, that the moral
as well as material world, is
nothing but darkness,
and
dissonance,
perplexity
!

"

**
"

"

Where

all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds

Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things,
Abominable, unutterable, and worse
Than fables yet hath feign d, or fear conceiv d
!

this system a true one, we should be little ofor we

bliged to him who gives it to the public
could hardly imagine a greater misfortune than such
a cast of understanding as would make us believe it.

Were

But founded,

as it

in

is,

words misunderstood, and

supported, as it is, by so
and often so puerile, that we
can hardly conceive how even the author himself
should be imposed upon by it
surely he who at
it on the weak and
obtrude
to
tempts
unwary, must
have something in his disposition, which, to a man
of a good heart, or good taste, can never be the ob
facts misrepresented
phistry so egregious,

ject of

envy.

CHAP.

We

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

are told, that the end of scepticism, as

it

was

and other an
taught by Pyrrho, Sextus Empiricus,
I know not
cients, was to obtain indisturbance.

whether
view

this be the

end our modern sceptics have

the means they employ for attain

If the prospect
ing it are strangely preposterous.
of nature exhibited in their systems produce tran
how dreadful must that
quillity or indisturbance,
be It is like that of a man, turned a-drift
in

if it is,

tranquillity
amidst a dark and

tempestuous ocean, in a crazy

with neither rudder nor compass, who, ex
hausted by the agitations of despair and distraction,
loses at last all sense of his misery, and becomes to
In fact, the only thing, that can enable
tally stupid.
Au4
sceptics to endure existence, is insensibility.
how far that is consistent with delicacy of mind, let
those among them explain who are ambitious of pas
sing for men of taste.
It is remarked by a very ingenious and amiable
writer, that
many philosophers have been infidels,
few men of taste and sentiment
This, if I
mistake not, holds equally true of our sceptics in
philosophy, and infidels in religion and it holds true
of both for the same reason.
The views and expec
tations of the infidel and sceptic are so full of horror,
that to a man of taste, that is, of sensibility and ima
skiff,

"

"

*."

gination, they are insupportable. On the other hand,

religion and true philosophy dictate of God,

what true

and providence, and man, is so charming, so conso

nant with all the finer and nobler feelings in human
nature, that every man of taste who hears of it must
wish it to be true and I never yet heard of one per
son of candour, who wished to find the evidence of
the gosp 1 satisfactory, and did not find it so.
Dull
imaginations and hard hearts can bear the thought of
endless confusion, of virtue depressed and vice tri:

*
tion *

Dr Gregory

Comparative View, p. 20 1, fourth edi

Atf

29$

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

IIT.

utnphant, of au universe peopled with fiends and fu

ries, of creation annihilated, and chaos restored to re
main a scene of darkness and solitude for ever and

But it is not so with the benevolent and

tender-hearted ; their notions are regulated by ariother standard ; their hopes and fears, their
joys
and sorrows, are quite of a different kind.
The moral powers and the powers of taste are
rnore congenial than is commonly imagined ; and he
who is destitute of the latter will ever be found as
incapable to describe or judge of the former, as a
man wanting the sense of smell is to decide concer
Nothing is more true, than that
ning relishes.
**
a little learning is a dangerous thing."
If we are
but a little acquainted with one part of a complicated
system, how is it possible for us to judge aright, ei
ther of the nature of the whole, or the fitness of that
And a little knowledge of one small part of
part
the mental system, is all that any man can be allow
for ever

ed to have, who is defective in imagination, sensi

the other powers of taste.
Yet, as igno
bility, and
rance is apt to produce temerity, I should not be
surprised to find such men most forward to attempt
reducing the philosophy of human nature -to system
:

and,
that

if

they made

the attempt, I should not wonder

into the most important mistakes.

they fell
Like a short-sighted landscape painter, they might
^possibly delineate some of the largest and roughest
exactness
but of the minuter
figures with tolerable
:

objects,

some would wholly escape

their notice,

and

others appear blotted and distorted, on which nature

had bestowed the utmost delicacy of colour, and har

mony

of proportion.

The modern

sceptical philosophy is as corrupt a

as ever appeared in the world. And
of
science
body
it deserves our notice, that the most considerable of
its adherents and promoters were more eminent for
subtlety of reason, than for sensibility of taste.
know that this was the case with MALI BRANCHED

We

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

whom Mr

29$

Alembert

says, that he could not

read the most sublime verses without weariness and
This was also the case with another au
disgust *.

of

thor, to whom our latter sceptics are more obliged

than they seem willing to acknowledge, I mean Mr
HOBBES; whose translation of Homer bears just such
a resemblance to the Iliad and Odyssey, as a putre
fying carcase bears to a beautiful and vigorous hu
man body. Of the taste of our later sceptics, I leave

the reader to judge from his own observation.

The philosophy of the mind, if such as it ought
to be, would certainly interest us more than any o-

Are the sceptical treatises on this

ther science.
subject interesting ? Do they bring conviction to the
judgment, or delight to the fancy?
they either

Do

reach the heart, or seem to proceed from it ? Do

they make us better acquainted with ourselves, or
better prepared for the business of life ? Do they not
raiher infeeble and harass the sou), divert its atten
tion from every thing that can enlarge and improve
it,

give

else,

it

a disrelish for itself,

and disqualify

it

and for every thing

alike for action, and for useful

knowledge ?
Other causes might be assigned for the present
I shall mention
degeneracy of the moral sciences.
one, which I the rather chuse to take notice of, and
insist

has been generally overlooked.

introduced the fa
continues to this day. of neglecting the

upon, because

DES CARTES
shion, whic
ancients in

and

all

it

MALEBRANCHE

their

philosophical inquiries.

We

Seem to think, because we are confessedly superior

in some sere. ices, that we must be so in all
But
that this is a rash judgment, may easily be made ap
pear, even on the supposition, that human genius is
nearly the same in all ages*
When accidental discovery, long experience, or
profound investigation, are the means of advancing a

* Essai

sur le Gout.

Bb

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

300

PART

Ilf,

science/it is reasonable to expect, that the improve

ments of that science will increase with length of

time.
Accordingly we find, that in natural philoso
phy, natural history, and some parts of mathematical

moderns are far superior to the

But the science of human nature, being

learning, the
cients.

tainable rather

by

intuition than

by deep

an
at

reasoning

or nice experiment, must depend for its cultivation

upon other causes. Different ages and nations have
different customs.
Sometimes it is the fashion to be
reserved and affected, at other times to be simple
and sincere
sometimes, therefore, it will be easy,
and at other times difficult to gain a competent know
In the old
ledge of human nature by observation.
romances, we seek for human nature in vain ; the
manners are all affected ; prudery is the highest, and
and a fan
almost the only ornament, of the woman
but the writers adapted
tastical honour of the men
themselves to the prevailing taste, and painted the
manners as they saw them. In our own country,
we have seen various modes of affectation, succes
To say nothing
sively prevail within a few years.
of present times ; every body knows, how much pe
to dis
dantry, libertinism, and false wit, contributed
And
1
in the last century.
nature
human
ap
guise
in
all monarchies one mode or other of
that
prehend,
artificial manners must always prevail ; to the for
mation of which the character of princes, the taste
of the times, and a variety of other causes will co
:

operate.

opinion, that the courts of monarchs

necessity be corrupt, I cannot sub
scribe to. I think, that virtue may be, and sometimes
the principle of action, even in the highest offices

Montesquieu

must always of
is>

of monarchy
my meaning is, that, under this form
of government, human manners must generally de
viate, more or less, from the simplicity of nature,
and thutj consequently, human sentiments must be of
:

611 AP. II.

more

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

30*

than under some other

seems requisite, for the sake

difficult investigation

forms. In Courts,
of that order which

it

is essential to dignity, to esta

blish certain punctilios in dress, language, and ges
there too, the most inviolable secrecy is expe
ture
dient j and there, where men are always under the
:

eye of their superiors, and. for the most part enga

ged in the pursuits of ambition or interest, a smooth
ness of behaviour will naturally take place, which-,

among
tue,

persons of ordinary talents, .and ordinary vir

must on many occasions degenerate

into

hypo

The customs
crisy.
ted by the higher ranks

of the court are always imita

; the middle ranks follow the

higher; and the people come after as fast as they

can. It is however, in the last mentioned class, where
nature appears with the least disguise
but, unhap
pily for moral science, the vulgar are seldom ob
jects of curiosity, either to our philosophers, or his*,
:

torians.

The influence of these causes, in

human sentiments, will, I presume, be

distinguishing
greater or less,
according as the monarchy partakes more or less of
There is, indeed, one set
democratical principles.
of sentiments, which monarchy and modern manners
are peculiarly fitted for disclosing, 1 mean those that
but whether these tend to make
relate to gallantry
:

human

nature

more or

less known,, might perhaps

bear a question.
Modern history ought, on many accounts, to in
terest us more than the ancient.
It describes man
ners that are familiar to us, events whereof we see
and feel the consequences, political establishments on
which our property and security depend, and places
and persons in which experience or tradition has al
And yet I. believe it will
ready given us a concern.
be generally acknowledged, that the ancient histories,
particularly of Greece and Rome, are more interest
In fact the most af
ing than those of later times.
of
of poetry, is that
both
and
fecting part,
history

AN ESSAr ON TRUTH,

302

FART

ITT,

which best displays the characters, manners, and

sentiments of men.
Histories that are deficient in
this respect, may communicate instruction to the
geo
grapher, the warrior, the genealogist, and the politi
cian ; but will never please the general taste, be
cause they excite no passion, and awaken no sym
pathy. Now, I cannot help thinking, that the per
sonages described in modern history have r with a
very few exceptions, a stiffness and reserve about
them, which doth not seem to adhere to the great
men of antiquity, particularly of Greece. I will not
say, that our historians have less ability or less in
dustry ; but 1 would say, that demociatical govern
ments, like those of ancient Greece, are more fa
vourable to simplicity of manners, and consequently
to the knowledge of the human mind, than our mo
At Athens and Sparta, the public
dern monarchies.
assemblies, the public exeicises, the regular atten
dance given to all the public solemnities, whether re
ligious or civil, and other institutions that might be
mentioned, gave the citizens many opportunities of
There the
being well acquainted with one another.
in palaces and coaches ;
were
not
men
cooped
up
great
they were almost constantly in the open air, and on
The people saw them every day, conversed
foot.
with them, and observed their behaviour in the hours
Themistocles
of relaxation, as well as of business.
could c*ll every citizen of Athens by his name ; a
proof that the great men courted an universal ac
1

quaintance.

No

degree of genius will ever make one a profici

tt.e science of man, without accurate observa
tion of human nature in all its varieties.
Homer,
the greatest master in this science ever known, pass
his poverty,,
ed the most of his life in travelling
and other misfortunes, made him often dependent on
ent in

the meanest, as his talents recommended him to the

friendship of the greatest ; so that what he says of
he
Ulysses may justly be applied to himself, that
"

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

303

visited many states and nations, and knew the

characters of many men."
Virgil had not the
same opportunities he lived in an age of more re
finement, and was perhaps too much conversant in

"

"

courtly

life,

and delicate
of

human

as well as too bashful in his deportment^

in his constitution, to study the varieties

nature,

where

conspicuous, namely

mankind.

monarchy they are most

middle and lower ranks of

in a

in the

Need we wonder,

play of character he

falls

then, that in the dis

so far short of his great

original? Shakespeare was familiarly acquainted with

ranks and conditions of men ; without which, not

all

withstanding his unbounded imagination, it is not to

be supposed, that he could have succeeded so Well
iii
delineating every species of human character, from
the consiable to the monarch, from the hero to the
clown. And it deserves our notice, that, however
ignorant he might be of Latin and Greek, he was
well acquainted, by translation, with some of the
ancients, particularly Plutarch, whom he seems to
have studied with much attention, and who indeed
excels all historians in exhibiting lively and interest
Great vicissitudes of
ing views of human nature.
fortune gave Fielding an opportunity of associating
with all classes of men, except perhaps the highest,
whom he rarely attempts to describe Swift s way
of life is well known
and I have been told, that
Congreve used to mingle in disguise with the com
mon people, and pass whole days and weeks among
:

them.

That the ancient painters and

statuaries

were

in

respects superior to the modern, is universally

allowed. The monuments of their genius that still re

many

main, would convince us of it, even though we were

to suppose the accounts given by Pliny, Lucian, and
other contemporary authors, to be a little exaggerat
ed.
The uuc .rm:o i spirit and elegance of their at
titudes and proportions are obvious to every eye:
and a great master seems to think, that modern axv.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART in.

"

304

tists, though they ought to imitate, can never hope

to equal the magnificence of their ideas, or the
beauty
of their figures *.
To account for this, we need not

human genius decays as the world

may be ascribed, partly to the su
the human form in those days, and
of
elegance

suppose, that

grows
perior

older.

It

partly to the artists having then better opportunities

of observing the human body, free from the incumbrances of dress, in all the varieties of action and mo
tion.
The ancient discipline of the Greeks and Ro
mans, particularly the former, was admirably calcu

improving the human body in health,

In these
swiftness,
flexibility, and grace.
strength,
respects, therefore, they could hardly fail to excel the
lated

for

moderns, whose education and manners tend rather

the body, and cramp all its faculties.
the ancients performed their exercises in
public, and performed many of them naked, and
thooght it honourable to excel in them ; as their
clothing was much less cumbersome than our Go
thic apparel, and shewed the body to more advantage ;
it must be allowed, that their painters and statuaries
had far better opportunities of observation than ours
to enervate

And,

enjoy,

as

who

see

nothing but aukward and languid

by an unwieldly and ungraceful

figures, disguised
attire.

Will it not, then, be acknowledged, that the ancients

have excelled the moderns in the science of hu
nature, provided it can be shewn, that they had
better opportunities of observing it ? That this was
the case, appears from what has been already said.

may
man

And that they really excelled us in this science, will

not be doubted by those who acknowledge their su
periority in rhetoric and criticism ; two arts which
are founded in the philosophy of the human mind.
But a more direct proof of the point in question may

be had in the writings of Homer, Plutarch, and the So*

Fresnoy,

De

Arte Graphica,

lin.

190,

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II.

305

which, for their admirable pic

its genuine simplicity, are
not equalled bj any compositions of a later date.
are assured by those
Of Aristotle I say nothing.
who have read his works, that no author ever un
derstood human nature better than he.
Fielding
himself * pays him this compliment ; and his tes
timony will be allowed to have considerable weight.
Let me therefore recommend it to those philoso
phers who may hereafter make human nature the
cratic philosophers

tures of

human

nature in

We

subject of their speculation, to study the ancients

more than our modern sceptics seem to have done.

If

we

set out, like the author of The Treatise oj

with a fixed purpose to advance as

Human Nature,
many paradoxes

as

possible

or with this foolish

conceit, that men in all former ages were utter stran

gers to themselves, and to one another ; and that we
first of our species on whom Nature has be
stowed any glimmerings of discernment ; we may de
pend on it, that in proportion as our vanity and arro
gance are great, our success will be small. It will

are the

be, like that of a musician, who should take it in his

head, that Corelli had no taste in counterpoint, nor

Handel or Jackson any genius

for melody ; of an epic

should fancy that Homer, Virgil, and
Milton, were very bad writers ; or of a painter, who
should suppose all his brethren of former times to
have been unacquainted with the colours, lineaments,
and proportions of visible objects.
If Columbus, before he set out on his famous ex
pedition to the western world, had amused himself
with writing a history of the countries he was going
to visit ; would the lovers of truth, and interpreters
of nature, have received any improvement or satis
faction from such a specimen of his ingenuity ? And
is not the
system which, without regard^to experience,

poet,

who

15

Fielding

12 mo.

works, vol.

xi.

page 384, London 1766,

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

306

PART

III.

a philosopher frames in his closet, concerning the na

ture of man, equally frivolous? If Columbus, in

such a history, had described the Americans with

heads, cloven feet, wings, and a scarlet com
plexion and, after visiting them, and finding his de
scription false in every particular, had yet published
that description to the world, affirming it to be true,
and at the same time, acknowledging, that it did not
correspond with his experience ; I know not whe
ther mankind would have been most disposed to

two

blame his disingenuity, to laugh

want of understanding.

at his
absurdity,

And yet we

to pity his

or

have

known a metaphysician to contrive a system of hu

man nature, and, though sensible that it did not cor
respond with the real appearances of human nature,
we
deliver it to the world as incontrovertible truth
;

have heard

system applauded as a master-piece

of genius, and admitted as incontrovertible truth ;
and we have seen the experience of individuals, the
universal consent of nations, the accumulated wisdom,
of ages, and every principle in philosophy, every truth
in religion, and every dictate of common sense, sa
crificed to this contemptible and self-contradictory
this

chimera.
I

would further recommend

it

to

our moral philo

and atten

sophers, to study themselves with candour

tion, and cultivate an acquaintance with

mankind,

especially with those whose manners retain most of

the truth and simplicity of nature.
Acquaintance
with the great makes a man of fashion, but will not
make a philosopher. They who are ambitious to

merit this appellation, think nothing below them

which the author of nature has been pleased to create,
to preserve, and to adorn
Away with this passion
it is
for system-building
pedantry away with this
Be equally ait is presumption.
last of paradox
!

shamed of dogmatical
dulity

for both are as

prejudice, and sceptical incre

remote fiem the spirit of true

CHAP.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

ir.

307

and cowardice from true

philosophy, as bullying
valour.
It will be said, perhaps, that a general knowledge
of

man

is

sufficient

for

the philosopher

and that

knowledge which we recommend, is

But let it
necessary only for the novelist and poet.
be remembered, that many important errors in moral
the want of this parti
philosophy have arisen from
this particular

cular knowledge ; and that it is by too little, not by

too much experience, by scanty, not by copious, in
Men have
duction-, that philosophy is corrupted.

without first consulting ex

rarely framed a system,
few obvious facts.
some
to
in
regard
perience
are apt to be prejudiced in favour of the notions that
prevail within our own narrow circle ; but we must
ourselves of pre
quit that circle if we would divest

We

if we would get
judice, as we must go from home
Horace asserts wisrid of our provincial accent.
dom and good sense to be the source and principle
"

"

"

"

"

of goo d writing; for the attainment of which he

prescribes a careful study of the Socrntic, that is,
moral wisdom, and a thorough acquaintance with

human

nature that great exemplar of manners, as

calls it ; or, in other words, a wide exThe joint ditensive view of real practical life.
rection of these two," I quote the words of an ad
mirable critic and most ingenuous philosopher, lt as
**
means of acquiring moral knowledge, is perfectly
"

"

he finely

"

"

*c
"

"

f*
"

"

"

"

"

((

For the former, when alone, is apt to

necessary.
grow abstracted and unaiFecting ; the latter uninThe philosopher talks
structing and superficial.
without experience, and the man of the world without principles.
United they supply each other s
defects ; while the man of the world borrows so
much of the philosopher, as to be able to adjust
the several sentiments with precision and exactness ; and the philosopher so much of the man of
the world, as to copy the manners of life (which

we

can only do by experience) with truth and

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
*

plete comprehension of

That

III.

Both together furnish a thorough and com-

spirit.
"

PART

human

life *..

not be thought a blind admirer of an

tiquity, I would here crave the reader s indulgence
for one short digression more, in order to put him
in mind of an important error in morals, inferred
from partial and inaccurate experience, by no less a
That
He argues,
person than Aristotle himself,
**
men of little genius, and great bodily strength, are
nature destined to serve, and those of better
"by
I

may

"

"

"

"

"

command ; that the natives of Greece,

and of some other countries, being naturally superior in genius, have a natural right to empire ; and
capacity, to

that the rest of

mankind, being naturally stupid,

This rea
are destined to labour and slavery f."
soning is now, alas I of little advantage to Aristotle s
"

who have for many ages been doomed

to that slavery, which, in his judgment, nature had
destined them to impose on others ; and many nations
whom he would have consigned to everlasting stu

countrymen,

in genius to the
pidity, have shown themselves equal
It would have been
exalted of human kind.

most

of Aristotk, to have inferred man s na

tural and universal right to liberty, from that natural
and universal passion with which men desire it, and
from the salutary consequences to learning, to vir
human improvement, of which it
tue, and to

more worthy

every
be productive. He wanted, perhaps,
to devise some excuse for servitude ; a practice which
to their eternal reproach, both Greeks and Romans
tolerated even in the days of their glory.

never

fails to

Mr HUME

manner in
argues nearly in the same
men over black.
the negroes, and

regard to the superiority of white

I am apt to suspect," says he,

"

"

"

in general

* .Kurd

all

the other species of men, (for there

-r-r

.-,

Commentary on Horace

T-

i4tt

.Epistle

Pisos, p. 25. edit. 4.

t

De

Republ.

lib. 1.

cap, 5, 6,

to

,1

the

ClfAP.
"

"

"

"

"

"

AN ESSAY

II.

Otf

TRUTH.

are four or five different kinds), to be naturally

inferior to the whites. There never was a civilized

nation of any other complexion than white, nor

even any individual eminent either in action or speculation. No ingenious manufactures among them,
There are negroe-slaves disno arts, no sciences.

persed all over Europe, of which none ever disThese

covered any symptons of ingenuity
assertions are strong ; but I know not whether they
have any thing else to recommend them.
For, first,
"

"

*."

true, they would not prove the point in ques

tion, except it were also proved, that the Africans
and Americans, even though arts and sciences were

though

introduced among them, would still remain unsus

The inhabitants of Great
ceptible of cultivation.
Britain arid France were as savage two thousand years
ago, as those of Africa and America are at this day.
To civilize a nation is a work which requires long
time to accomplish. And one may as well say of
an infant, that he can never become a man, as of a
nation now barbarous, that it never can be civilized.
Secondly, of the facts here asserted,- no man could
have sufficient evidence, except from a personal ac
quaintance with all the negroes that now are, or ever
These people write
were, on the face of the earth.
no histories and all the reports of all the travellers
that ever visited them 7 will not amount to any thinglike a proof of what is here affirmed
Bur, thirdly,
we know that these assertions are not true. The
empires of Peru and Mexico could not have been
governed, nor the metropolis of the latter built after
so singular a manner, in the middle of a lake, without
men eminent both for action and speculation. Every
body has heard of the magnificence, good government,
and ingenuity, of the ancient Peruvians. The Afri
cans and Americans are known to have many inge
nious manufactures and arts among them, which even Europeans would find it no easy matter to imi;

Hume

Essay on National Characters,

2

Cc

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

3IO

PART

II*.

Sciences indeed they have none, because

they
letters ; but in oratory, some of them, par
ticularly the Indians of the Ftve Nations, are said to

tate.

have no

be greatly our superiors.

It will be readily allowed

that the condition of a slave is riot favourable to
ge
nius of any kind ; and yet, the negroe-slaves dispers
ed over Europe, have often discovered symptoms of

ingenuity, notwithstanding

their

unhappy circum

They become

excellent handicraftsmen, and

indeed learn every thing
and
practical musicians,
their masters are at pains to teach them, perfidy and
stances.

debauchery not excepted. That a negroe-slave, who

can neither read nor write, nor speak any European
language, who is not permitted to do any thing but
what his master commands, and who has not a single
friend on earth, but i.s universally, considered and
treated as if he were of a species inferior to the hu
man
that such a creature should so distinguish
himself among Europeans, as to be talked of through
the world for a man of genius, is surely no reasonable
;

To suppose him of an inferior species,

expectation.
because he does not thus distinguish himself, is just
as rational, as to suppose any private European of an
inferior species, because he has not raised himself to
the condition of royalty.
Had the Europeans been destitute of the arts -of
have rewriting and working in iron, they might
of Anatives
as
the
as
barbarous
xaiaiaed to this day
Nor is the invention of these
frica and America.
The
to our superior capacity.
is not always to he estimated
genius of the invt iif.oi:
Gun*
according to the importance of ihe invemion.
have
ix^nr.c-rs
the
end
produced
compass
powuer
wonderful revolution-; in human affairs, and yet were
lU-clderitsldLeovxriiiK. bach, probably, were the first
arts to be ascribed

iron,
Suppose
writing iind \vorking in
of contrivance ; they were at least
contrived by a few individuals ; and if they required
a superiority cf understanding, cr of species, in the
s

in

them the

.effects

CHAP. II.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

3!!

inventors, those inventors, and their descendents, are

the only persons who can lay claim to the honour of
that superiority.
That every practice and sentiment is barbarous
which is not according to the usages of modern Enrope, seems to be a fundamental maxim with many

Their remarks of
of our critics and philosophers.
ten put us in mind of the fable of the man and the
If Negroes or Indians were disposed to re
lion.
criminate ; if a Lucian or a Voltaire from the coast
of Guinea, or from the five nations, were to pay us
a visit, what a picture of European manners might
Nor
he present to his countrymen at his return
would caricatura,or exaggeration, be necessary to ren
der it hideous.
plain historical account of some
of our most fashionable duelists, gamblers, and adul
terers, (to name no more), would exhibit specimens
of brutish barbarity, and sottish infatuation, such as
might vie with any that ever appeared in Kamschatka, California, or the land of the Hottentots,
!

It is easy to see with what views some modern

authors throw out these hints to prove the natural
Bat let every friend to hu
inferiority of negroes.
manity pray, that they may be disappointed. Bri
tons are famous for generosity ; a virtue in which it
is
easy for them to excel both the Romans and the
Greeks. Let it never be said, that slavery is coun
tenanced by the bravest, and most generous people
;
by a people who are animated with that
heroic passion, the love of liberty, beyond all nations
ancient or modern ; and the fame of whose toilsome,

on earth

but unwearied perseverance, in vindicating, at the expence of life and fortune, the sacred rights of man
kind, will strike terror into the hearts of sycophantsand tyrants, and excite the admiration and gratitude
ef all good men to the latest posterity.,

Cc 3

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

312

CHAP.

PART

III.

III.

Consequences of Metaphysical Scepticism.

A FTKR

**

all, it

course, that

will perhaps be objected to thisdishave laid too much stress upon

the consequences of metaphysical absurdity, and re

presented them as much more dangerous than they
are found to be in fact.
I shall be told, that many
pf the controversies in metaphysic are merely verbal ;
and the errors proceeding from them of so abstract a
nature, that philosophers run little risk, and the vul
gar no risk at all, of being influenced by them in
It will be said, that I never heard of any
practice.

man who

fell a sacrifice

breaking his

to

Berkeley

neck over a material

by
which

system,

precipice,

nor of any Fatalist,

he had taken for an ideal one
whose morals were, upon the whole, more exception
;

in a
able than those of the assertors of free agency
word, that whatever effect such tenets may have up
on the understanding, they seldom or never produce
:

any sensible

upon the heart. In considering

must confine myself to a few topics,

effects

this objection, I

for the subject to which it leads is of vast extent,

The influence of the metaphysical spirit upon art,
science, and manners, would furnish matter for a large

present to shew, that me

are
not
errors
harmless, but may produce,
taphysical
treatise,

it will suffice at

and actually have produced some very important and

interesting consequences.
I begin with an observation often made, and in
deed obvious enough, namely, That happiness is the
end of our being ; aud that knowledge, and even
iruth itself, are valuable only as they tend to pro
mote it. Every ustkss study is a pernicious thing,
because it wastes our time and misemploys our fa
To prove that metaphysical absurdities do
culties.

no good, would therefore

sufficiently justify the pre

But it requires no deep sagacity
sent undertaking.
to be able to prove a great deal more.

AN ESSAY ON TROTH.

CHAP. HI.

313

We

acknowledge, however, that all metaphysical

There is an ob
errors are not equally dangerous.
scurity in the abstract sciences, as they are common
ly taught, which
their influence.

often no bad preservative against

This obscurity is sometimes una

is

voidable, on account of the insufficiency of language

sometimes it is owing to the spiritless and slovenly
as
style of the writer ; and sometimes it is affected

;,

when

a philosopher,

from prudential considerations,

thinks fit to disguise any occasional attack on the re

ligion or laws of his country, by some artful equivoca*
of allegory, dialogue, or fable *. The
tion, in the
style of The Treatise of Human Nature is so exceed
ingly obscure and uninteresting, that if the Author
had not in his Essays re-published the capital docforn>

Mr Hume

not unacquainted with this piece of po

for Atheism he delivers by the mouth
of a friend, in the way of conference, prefaced with a de
claration, that though he cannot by any means approve
many of the sentiments of that friend, yet he thinks they
bear some relation to the chain of reasoning carried on in

licy.

is

His apology

his enquiry

concerning

human

nature.

He

had something,

seems, to say against his Maker, which he moaestly ac

knowledges to be curious, and worthy of attention^ and
which he thought no doubt, to be mighty smart and cle
ver.
To call it what it really is,
attemyi: tp vindicate
Atheism, cr what he probably thought it ^-. /indication

it

An

of Atheism, seemed dangerous, and might di: wust

his well-meaning readers
He calls it, thereiore,
:

many of
dn Es

say on a Particular: Prwidence and a Tuturs S/ta e, and puts.

liis
capital arguments in the mouth of another person thus
:

providing by the same generous, candid, and. manly expe

dient, a snare for the unwary reader, and an evasion for
himself.
Perhaps it will be asked, what I mean by the
word Atheist ? I answer,
reasonable creature, who dis
believes the being of God, cr thinks it inconsistent with
sound reason, to believe that the great First Cause is per
fect in holiness, power, wisdom, justice and beneficence,
is a speculative Atheist 5 and he who endeavours to instil
the same unbelief into others, is a practical Atheist.

3*4

AN

*SAV ON TRUTH.

?ART IIR

frines of that work in a style more

elegant and
sprightly, a confutation of them would have been
their uncouth and gloomy
altogether unnecessary
:

aspect would have deterred most people from court

And, after all, though this
ing their acquaintance.
author is one of the deadliest, he is not perhaps one
of the most dangerous enemies of religion.
Boling-

broke, his inferior in subtlety, but far superior in

wit, eloquence, and knowledge of mankind, is more
So that tho j
dangerous, because more entertaining.
the reader may be disposed to applaud the patriot
ism of the grand jury of Westminster, who present
ed the posthumous works of that noble Lord as a
public nuisance, he must be sensible that there was
no necessity for affixing any such stigma to the phi
And yet
losophical writings of the Scottish author.
it cannot be denied, that even these, notwithstanding
their obscurity, have done mischief enough to make

every sober-minded person earnestly wish that they

had never existed.
Further, some metaphysical errors are so grossly
absurd, that there is hardly a possibility of their per
Such, considered in itself, is
verting our conduct.
the doctrine of the non-existence of matter ; which
no man in his senses was ever capsble of believing for
a single moment.
Pyrrho was a vain hypocrite he
took it in his head to say that he believed nothing,
because he wanted to be taken notice of: he affected,
:

too, to act up to this pretended disbelief ; and would

not of his own accord step aside to avoid a dog, a
but he always took care to
chariot, or a precipice
have some friends or servants at hand, whose busi
ness it was to keep the philosopher out of harm s
way. That the universe is nothing but a heap of im
pressions and ideas unperceived by any substance, is
another of those profound mysteries, from which we
need not apprehend much danger ; because it is so
as imply a
perfectly absurd, that no words but sacu
not
whether
knovv
will
it,
I
contradiction^
express
:

OHAP.

III.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH*

the absurdity of a system was ever before urged as

But it is better to be ab
en apology for its author.
and happy it were for the
surd than mischievous
world, and much to the credit of some persons now
:

in

it, if

metaphysicians were chargeable with nothing

worse than absurdity.

Again, certain errors

in our theories of human na

in
considered
themselves, are in some measure
ture,
harmless, when the principles that oppose their in
fluence are strong and active.
gentle disposition,
confirmed habits of virtue, obedience to law, a regard
to order, or even the fear of punishment, often prove

When Fatality
antidotes to metaphysical poison.
has these principles to combat, it may puzzle the
judgment, but will not corrupt the heart. Natural
instinct never fails to oppose it ; all men believe
themselves free agents, as long at least as they keep
clear of metaphysic ; nay, so powerful is the senti
ment of moral liberty, that I cannot think it was eBut if
ver entirely subdued in any rational being.
it

were subdued, (and surely no Fatalist will ac

it
invincible^ ; if the opposite princi
at
the
same time cease to act and if de
should
ples
bauchery, bad example, and licentious writings,
should extinguish or weaken the sense of duty j
what might not be apprehended from men who are
above law, or can screen themselves from punish
ment ? What virtue is to be expected from a being

knowledge

who believes itself a mere machine ? If I were per

suaded, that the evil I commit is imposed upon me
by fatal necessity, I should think repentance as ab
surd as Xerxes scourging the waves of the Helles
pont ; and be as little disposed to form resolutions
of amendment, as to contrive schemes for preventing
the frequent eclipses of the satellites of Jupiter.
li
very author who publishes an essay in behalf of Fatility, is willing to run the risk of bringing all men
over to his opinion. What if this should be the
consequence ? If it be possible to make one reason-

316

Aff

ESSAT

OJT

TRUTH.

PART

Ilf.

able creature a Fatalist,

may it not be possible to

make many such ? And would this be a matter of
little or no moment ?
It is demonstrable, that it
would not. But we have already explained ourselves
en

this head.

Other metaphysical errors there are, which,

though they do not strike more directly at the foun
dations of virtue, are more apt to influence mankind,
because they are not so vigorously counteracted by
any particular propensity. What shall we say to
the theory of HoB3-ES, who makes the distinction be
tween vice and virtue to be wholly artificial, with
out any foundation in the divine will, or human con
stitution, and depending entirely on the arbitrary
laws of human governors ? According to this ac
count, no action that is commanded by a king can be
vitious, and none virtuous except Warranted by that

Were this opinion universal, what

authority.
eould deter men from secret wickedness, or such as
is not cognisable by law ? What could restrain gov
ernors from the utmost insolence of tyranny ? What
but a miracle could save the human race from per
dition.

In the preface to one of Mr HUME S late publica

we are presented with an elaborate panegyric
on the author.
Hs hath exerted, says the writer
of the preface,- those great talents he received
*
from Nature, and the acquisitions he made by
study, in search of truth, and in promoting the
**
noble encomium indeed I
good of mankind."
If it be a true one, what are we to think of a Dou
oglas, a Campbell, a Gerard, a Reid, and some
thers, who have attacked several of Mr HUME S
opinions, and proved them to be contrary to truth,
and subversive of the good of mankind ? I thought
indeed, that the works of those excellent writers
had given great satisfaction to the friends of truth
and virtue, and done an important service to soci
on
ety ; but, if I believe, this prefacer, I must look
tions,

"

"

"

CHA?.

III.

AN"

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

them, as well as on this attempt of my own, with

detestation and horror. But before so great a change
in my sentiments can take place, it will be necessary,
that Mr HUME prove, to my satisfaction, that he is
neither the authounor the publisher of the Essays
that bear his name, nor of the Treatise of Human
Nature. For I will not take it on his, nor on any
man s word, that religion, both revealed and natur
al, and all conviction in regard to truth, are detri
mental to mankind. And it is most certain, that
he, if he is indeed the author of those Essays, and
of that Treatise, hath exerted his great talents, and
employed several years of his life, in endeavour
ing to persuade the world, that the fundamental doc
trines of natural religion are irrational, and the proofs
of revealed religion such as ought not to satisfy an
impartial mind ; and that there is not in any science
an evidence of truth sufficient to produce certainty.
Suppose these opinions established in the world and
say, if you can, that the good of mankind would be
promoted by them. To me it seems impossible for
society to exist tinder the influence of such opinions*
Nor let it be thought, that we give an unfavourable
view of human nature, when we insist on the neces
sity of good principles for the preservation of
Such a total subversion of human
good order.
sentiment is, I believe, impossible
mankind, at
their very worst, are not such monsters, as to ad
s

mit

it

reason, conscience, taste, habit, interesr, fear,

it ; but the
philosophy that

must perpetually oppose

aims at a total subversion of human sentiment is not

on that account the less detestable.
And yet it is
said of the authors of this philosophy, that they ex
ert their great talents in
promoting the good of man
kind. What an insult on human narure and common

mankind are tame enough to acquiesce in

and servile enough to reply,
It is
true, we have been much obliged to the celebrated
sceptics of this most enlightened age,"
they
would almost tempt one to express himself in the
sense

such an

"

"

If

"

insult,

AH ESSAY ON TRUTH.

style of misanthrophy, and

"

say,

FART
Si

III,

populus vult

decipi,

Every

decipiatur."

doctrine

dangerous that tends to discre

our senses, external or internal,

is

dit the evidence of

and to subvert the original instinctive principles of

belief.
In this respect the most unnatural
and incomprehensible absurdities, such as the doc

human

trine of the non-existence of matter, and of percep

tions without a percipient, are far from
being harm
less ; as they seem to lead, and actually have led,
to universal scepticism ; and set an example of a me

thod of reasoning sufficient to overturn all truth, and

In this respect also
pervert every human faculty.
we hive proved the doctrine of fatality to be of most
pernicious tendency, as it leads men to suppose their
mor.il sentiments fallacious or equivocal ; not to
mention its influence on our notions of God, and na
tural religion.
When a sceptic attacks one princi
ple of common sense, he does in effect attack all ;
for

if

we are made

distrustful of the veracity of in

stinctive conviction in one instance, we must, or at

least we may, become equally distrustful in every

little scepticism introduced into science

will soon assimilate the whole to its own nature ;

other.

fatal fermentation, once begun, spreads wider

and wider every moment, till all the mass be trans
formed into rottenness and poison.
There i* no exaggeration here. The present state

the

.of the abstract sciences is

what I sav is true. This

and philosophy ; and this

a melancholy proof, that

called the age of reason

is

is the age of avowed and

Sceptics have at last grown
dogmatical atheism.
Weary of doubting ; and have now discovered, br
the force of their great talents, that one thing at
least is certain, namely, that God, and religion, and
This is the final
immortality, are empty sounds.
much
boasted
so
of
our
spirit ;
philosophic
triumph
th e are the limits of the dominion of error, beyond

which we can hardly conceive

it

possible for

human

CHAP.

sophistry
the
xiot

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

II*.

to

penetrate.

Exult,

31$

Metaphysic, at

consummation of thy glories. More thou canst

hope, more thou canst not desire. Fall down, ye

mortals, and acknowledge the stupendous blessing

adore those men of great talents, those daring spi
rits, those patterns of modesty, gentleness, andeandour, those prodigies of genius, those heroes in be
to strip you of
neficence, who have thus laboured
:

every rational consolation, and to make your condK

tion ten thousand times worse than that of the beasts
that perish.

Why can I not express myself with less warmth

Why can I not devise an apology for these philoso

phers, to screen them from this dreadful imputation

Per
of being the enemies and plagues of mankind
haps they do not themselves believe their own te
nets, but -publish them only as the means of getting a
name and a fortune. But I hope this is not the
for then the enor
case ; God forbid that it should
would
all power of Ian-,
their
of
surpass
guilt
mity
guage ; we could only gaze at it, and tremble.
Compared with such wickedness, the crimes of the
thief, the robber, the incendiary, would almost dis
These sacrifice the fortunes or the lives of
appear.
some of their fellow-creatures, to their own neces
sity or outrageous appetite but those would run the
hazard of sacrificing, to their own avarice or vanity,
the happiness of all mankind, both here and hereaf
ter.
No ; I cannot suppose it the heart of man,
however depraved, is not capable of such infernal
Perhaps they do not foresee the conse
malignity.
quences of their doctrines. BERKELEY most certain
But BERKELEY did not attack the re
ly did not
ligion of his country, did not seek to undermine the
foundations of virtue, did not preach or recommend
Atheism. He erred ; and who is free from error ?
but his intention* were irreproachable ; and his con
duct as a man, and a Christian, did honour to human
nature.
Perhaps our modern sceptics are ignorant?
!

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

3 IP

PART

III.

that, without the belief of a God, and the hope of

immortality, the miseries of human- life would often
be insupportable. But can 1 suppose them in a state

of total and invincible stupidity, \itter strangers to

the human heart, and to tinman affairs
Sure they
!

would not thank me for such -a supposition. Yet

-this I must suppose, or I must believe them to be
the most cruel, trre most perfidious, and the most
profligate of men.

Caressed by those who call themselves the great,

ingrossed by the formalities and fopperies of life, in
toxicated with vanity, pampered with adulation, dis
sipated in the tumult of business, or amidst the vi
cissitudes of folly, they perhaps have little need, and
little relish, for the consolations of religion .^
But
-Jet them know, that, in the solitary scenes of life,
there is many an honest and tender heart pining with
incurable anguish, pierced with -the sharpest sting of
disappointment, bereft of friends, chilled with po
verty, racked with disease, scourged by the oppres
sor ; whom nothing but trust in Providence, and the
-hope of a future retribution, could preserve from
And do they, with sacrile
the agonies of despair.
to
violate this last refuge of
hands,
attempt
gious
the miserable, and to rob them of the only comfort
-that had survived the ravages of misfortune, malice,
and tyranny Did it ver happen, that the influence
of their execrable tenets disturbed the tranquillity of
virtuous retirement, deepened the gloom of human
distress, or aggravated the horrors of the grave ? Is
it possible, that this may have happened in many in
Is it probable, that this hath happened, or
stances?
may happen, in one single instance ? Ye traitors to
human kind, ye murderers of the human soul, how
!

can ye answer for it to your own hearts Surely every

spark of your generosity is extinguished for ever,
.if this consideration do not awaken in you the keen
!

est remorse,

.soul

But

and make you wish

in bitterness or

remonstrate iu vain.

All this must

CHAP.

II.

AN.

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

321

have often occurred to you, and been as often reject

Could I inforce the present
ed as utterly frivolous.

by an appeal

to your vanity, I might possibly

impression but to plead with you on
the principles of benevolence or generosity, is to ad
dress you in language ye do not, or will not under
and as to the shame of being convicted of ab
stand
surdity, ignorance, and want of candour, ye have
long ago proved yourselves superior to the sense of

topic

make some

it.

Bat let not the lovers of truth be discouraged

Atheism cannot be of long continuance, nor is there
much danger of its becoming universal. The in
fluence of some conspicuous characters has brought
:

it

too

much

plish.

;
which, in a thoughtless
no difficult matter to accom
have retrieved the powers of

into fashion

and profligate age,

it is

But when men

serious reflection,, they will find it a frightful phantorn ; and the mind will return gladly and eagerly to

One thing we certainly know;

old endearments.
the fashion of sceptical and metaphysical systems
Those unnatural productions,
soon passeth away.
the vile effusion of a hard and stupid heart, that
mistakes its own restlessness for the activity of ge
nius, and its own captiousness for sagacity of under
standing, may, like other monsters, please a while
by their singularity but the charm is soon over ;
and the succeeding age will be astonished to hear,
its

that their forefathers were deluded,, or amused, with

The measure of scepticism seems
such fooleries.

indeed to be full ; it is time for truth to vindicate

her rights, and we trust they shall yet be complete
Such are the hopes and the earnest
ly vindicated.
wishes of one, who has seldom made controversy his
study, who never took pleasure in argumentation,
and who disclaims all ambition of being reputed a
subtle disputant , but who, as a friend to human na
ture, would account it his honour to be instrumental

324
in

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

PART

III.

promoting, though by means unpleasant to him

the cause of virtue and true science, and in

self,

bringing to contempt that sceptical sophistry whieh

equally subversive of both.

is

POSTSCRIPT.

POSTSCRIPT.
November, 1770.

is

read and criticise the modern systems of scepticism

so disagreeable a task, that nothing but a regard to

I
duty could ever have determined me to engage in it.
found in them neither instruction nor amusement j I wrote
the disgust that one feels in wrang
against them with all
ling with an unreasonable adversary j and I published
what I had written, with the certain prospect of raising
many enemies, and with such an opinion of my performance,
as allowed me not to entertain any sanguine hopes of suc
I thought it however possible, nay, and probable
cess.
too, that this book mightdo good. I knew thatit contained
some matters of importance, which, if I was not able to
set them in the best light, might however, by my means,
be suggested to others more capable to do them justice.
Since these papers were first published, I have laid my
self out to obtain information of what has been said of
them, both by their friends, and by their enemies j hoping

by the censures of the latter, as well as by the

I do not hear, that any person
admonitions of the former.
has accused me of misconceiving or misrepresenting my
adversaries doctrine.
Again and again have I requested
it of those whom I know to be masters of the whole con
to profit

me their thoughts freely on this point j

and they have repeatedly told. me, that, in their judgment,
nothing of this kind can be laid to my. charge.
Most of the objections that have been made I had fore
troversy, to give

obviated by occasional
seen, and, as I thought, sufficiently
remarks in the course of the essay. Eat, in regard to
some of them, I fin d it necessary now to be more particu
I wish to give the fullest satisfaction to every can
lar.
did mind and I am sure I do not, on these subjects, en
tertain a single thought which I need to be ashamed QE
:

afraid to lay be-fore the public.

AN ESSAT ON TRUTH.

324

J. s

I have been much blamed * for

entering so warmly
into this controversy.
In order to prepossess the minds of
those who had notread this performance, with an unfavour
able opinion of it, and of its author, insinuations have been
made, and carefully helped about, that it treats only of

some abstruse points of speculative metaphysics

j which,
accused of having discussed, or attempted
to discuss, with all the zeal of the most furious
bigot^
mdulging myself in an indecent vehemence of language,
and uttering the most rancorous invectives against those

however,

am

who differ from me in opinion. Much, on this occasion,

has been s?Jd in praise of moderation and scepticism ^ mo
deration, the source of candour, good-breeding, and good
and scepticism, the child of impartiality, and the
j
When men believe with full convic
parent of humility.
tion, nothing, it seems, is to be expected from them but
when they suffer themselves in
bigotry and bitterness

nature

their niquiries to be biassed by partiality, or wr armed with

affection they are philosophers no longer, but revilers and

were a just account of the matter and

Essay on Truth, I should not have the face
fcven to attempt an apology j for were any person guilty
of the fault here complained of, I myself should certainly
be one of the first to condemn him.
In the whole circle of human sciences, real or pretended,
there is not any thing to be found which I think more
enthusiasts

manner of

If this

the

perfectly contemptible than the speculative metaphysics

It is indeed a most wretched medley of
of the moderns.
indistinct perceptions, inaccurate ob
notions,
ill-digested

and sophistical argument j

there
is no difference, and
where
confounding
distinguishing
Vv here there is no similitude; feigning difficulties where it
I
cannot find them, and overlooking them when real.
know no end that the study of such jargon can answer,
except. to harden and stupify the heart, bewilder the unservations, perverted language,

* In
the public I must
justice to
account of this book,
against me on

here observe, that the clamour

however loud and alarming at

propogatad by a feiiu
tirst, appears now to have been raised and
ficnons of a particular party in Scotland; and to huve owed its rise to
prejudice,

and

its

progress to defamation

which an honest man would be much more

for him than agajust him.

to engines of malignity
sorry to

see

employed

Atf ESSAY

sv

ON TRUTH;

325

derstanding, sour the temper, and habituate the mi^id to

For studies of
irresolution, captiousness, and falsehood.

have neither time nor inclination, I have neither

head nor heart. To enter into them at all, is foolish ; to
enter into them with warmth, ridiculous j but to treat those
with any bitterness, whose judgments concerning them
may difter from ours, is in a very high degree odous and
Thus far, then, my adversaries and I are agreed*.
criminal.
this sort I

Had

the sceptical philosophers confined themselves to

those inoffensive wranglings that shew only the subtlety
and captiousness of the disputant, but affect not the prin
ciples of human conduct, they never would have found an

opponent
strong
it

could

in

and

me.

my

always

love

be

My

passion for writing is not

of controversy so weak, that if
avoided with a safe conscience, I

in it at all.
But when doctrines are
of morality and religion ^ dotrines, of
subversive
published
which I perceive and have it in my power to expose the

would never engage

absurdity, my duty to the public forbids me to be silent j

especially when I see, that by the influence of fashion,
folly, or more criminal causes, those doctrines spread wider

and wider every day, diffusing ignorance, misery, and li

Let us oppose the
they prevail.
The
torrent, though we should not be able to check it.
zeal and example of the weak have often roused to action,
and to victory, the slumbering virtue of the strong.

centiousness, wherever

I likewise agree with

it tends to

cism, where

my

adversaries in this, thatscepti--

make men

well-bred and goodnatured, and to rid them of pedantry and petulance, with
out doing individuals or society any harm, is an excellent
And some sorts of scepticism there are, that really
thing.
In philosophy, in history, in politics,
have this tendency
.

yea, and even in theology

itself,

there are

doubtful disputation, in regard to which a

many points of
man s judgment

lean to either of the sides, or hang wavering between

them, without the least inconvenience to himself, or others,
Whether pure space exists or how we come to form an
idea of it j whether all the objects of human reason may
be fairly reduced to Aristotle s ten categories ; whether
Hannibal, when he passed the Alps, had any vinegar in
his camp j whether Richard III. was as remarkable for
cruelty and a hump-back, as is commonly believed

may

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
whether

Mary Queen

B,

Si.

of Scotland married Bothwell from

inclination, or from the necessity of her affairs j whether*

the earth is better peopled now than it was in ancient

whether public prayers should be recited from me

}
in regard to these and such like
mory, or read
questions,
a little scepticism may be very very safe and very proper,
and I will never think the worse of a man for differing
from me in opinion. And if ever it should be my chance
to engage in controversy on such questions, I here
times

pledge

myself to thr public, (absit invidia verbo !), that I w ill

conduct the whole aiiair with the most exemplary coolness
I have
of blood, ad lenity of language.
always observed
that strong conviction is much more apt to breed strife
in matters of little moment, than in subjects of high im
Not to mention (what I would willingly for
portance.
scandalous contents that have prevailed in the
the
get)
Christian w orld about trilling ceremonies and points of
doctrine, I need only put the reader in mind of those learn
ed critics and annotators, Salmasius, Valla, and Scaliger,
who. in their squabbles about words, gave scope to such
rancorous animosity and virulent abuse, as is altogether
r

In every case, where dogmatical belief

without example.
tends to harden the heart, or to breed prejudices incompa
tible with candour, humanity, and the love of truth, all
men will be careful to cultivate moderation and

good

diffidence.

But there are other points, in regard to which a strong

conviction produces the best effects, and doubt and hesi
tation the worst and these are the points that our sceptics
That the human
labour to subvert, rnd I to establish.
:

a real and permanent substance, that God is infi

and good, that virtue and vice are essentially
wise
nitely
a thing as truth, and that man
different, that there is such
cases is capable of discovering it, are some of the
in
soul

is

many

intended to vindicate from

Attempts have been made
is no evidence of truth in any
that the human understanding ought not to believe

principles

which

this

book

is

the objections of scepticism.

to persuade us, that there
science

in perpetual suspence be
any thing, but rather to remain
tween opposite opinions j that it is unreasonable to believe
the Deity to be perfectly wise and good, or even to exist j

f, S*

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

that the soul of

man

327

has nothing permanent in

its

nature,

nor indeed any kind of existence distinct from its present

perceptions, which are continually changing, and will soon
be at an end. , and that moral distinctions are ambiguous
and artificial, depending rather on human caprice and
fashion, than on the nature of things, or the divine will.
This scepticism,, the reader will observers totally subver
sive of science, morality, and religion, both natural and

And

revealed.
for

which

this is the scepticism

am blamed

having opposed with warmth and earnestness.

I desire to

know, what good effects

this scepticism is like

we

our pride
are they to be con
understanding."
sidered as patterns of humility, who set the wisdom of all
former ages at nought, bid defiance to the common sense
of mankind, and say to the wisest and best men that ever
"

ly to

**

produce

It

humbles,"

Indeed

of

are told,

"

And

did honour to our nature, Ye are fools or hypocrites j we

only are candid, honest and sagacious ? Is this humility !
Should I be humble, if I were to speak and act in this
manner Every man of sense would pronounce me lost tor
all shame, an apostate from truth and virtue, an enemy to
human kind;} and my own conscience would justiiy the
!

censure.

And so, it seems that pride of understanding is inse

parable from the disposition of those who believe that they
have a soul, that there is a God, that virtue and vice are
essentially different, and that men are in some cases per
mitted to discern the difference between truth and false
hood Yet the gospel requires or supposes the belief of all
these points the gospel also Commands us to be humble :
and the spirit and influence of the gospel have produced
the most perfect examples of that virtue that ever appeared
!

among men.
his belief,

belieTer may be proud

but it is neither
nor what he believes, that can make him so for
:

both ought to teach him humility.

To call in question^
and labour to subvert, those first principles of science, mo
rality and religion, which all the rational part of mankind
acknowledge, is indeed an indication of a proud and pre
sumptuous understanding but does the sceptic lay this to
the charge of the believer ? I have heard of a
thief, when
:

dose pursued, turning on

his pursuers,

and charging them

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH;
with robbery
philosopher

The

but I do not think the example

worthy a

imitation.

prevention of bigotry

would

is

said tobe anoth er of the

And indeed,
scepticism.
act consistently with their own
principles,

blessed effects of this

if sceptics

P, s,

modern

there would be
ground for the remark

for a man who be

cannot be said to be blindly attached
nothing at
to any opinion, except perhaps to this one, that
nothing is
to be believed ? in which, however, if he have
any regard
to uniformity of character, he will take care not to be
:

lieves

all",

dog

matical,

iiut

it

well

is

known

to ail

who have had any

opportunity of observing his conduct, that the sceptic re

jects those opinions only which the rest of mankind admit
for that, in adhering to his own paradoxes, the most devot
ed anchorite, t-he most furious inquisitor, is not a greater
An ingenuous author has therefore, with
bigot than he.
very good reason, made it one of the articles of the IrifidcPs
:

"

creed, That,
late writer

he believes

in all unbelief

Though

*."

a perfect sceptic in regard to the existence of

his soul and body, he is certain, that men have no idea of
is

though he has many doubts and difficulties about

the evidence of mathematical truth, he is quite positive
that his soul is not the same thing to day it was yesterday,.

power

and though he affirms that it is by an act of the human

understanding, that two and two have come to be equal to
four, yet he cannot allow, that to steal or to abstain from
stealing, to act, or to cease from action, is in the power o

any man. In reading sceptical books, I have often found,

that the strength of the author s attachment to his paradox,
If it deviates but a little
is in proportion to its absurdity.
from common opinion, he gives himself but little trouble
about it } if it be inconsistent with universal belief, he con
descends to argue the matter, and to- bring what with him:
it j if it be such as no man ever did orpasses for a proof of
could believe, he is still more concerted of hi? proof, and
but if it is inconceivable, it is a
calls it a demonstration
wonder if he does not take it for granted. Thus, that our
idea of extension is extended, is inconceivable, and in the
that mat
Treatise of Human Nature is taken for granted
j,

that perceives it, is what no

could believe r and the author of the

ter exists only in the

ever did or

mind

Connoisseur, No. 9,

ESSAY ON TRUTH.

F. S.

329

Treatise concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge , has

favoured the world with what passes among the fashionable
that moral, in
metaphysicians for a demonstration of it
tellectual, and corporeal virtues, are all upon the same
footing, is inconsistent with universal belief j avid a famous
Essayist has argued the matter at large, and would fain per
suade us, that he has proved it , though I do not recollect,
:

that he triumphs in .this proof as so perfectly irresistible, as

those by which he conceives himself to have annihilated

the idea of power, and exploded the existence and perma

nency of percipient substances. I will not say, however,
that this gradation holds universally.
Sceptics, it must be

owned, bear a right zealous attachment to all their absur

If they are most warmly in
both greater and less.

dities,

terested in behalf of the former, it is, I suppose, because

they have had the sagacity to foresee, that those would

stand most in need of their countenance and protection.

We

see

how

far scepticism

may be

said to prevent bi

prevents all bigotry, and all strong attachment

gotry.
on the side of truth and common sense j but in behalf of
It

own paradoxes, it establishes bigotry the most implicit

and the most obstinate. It is true, that sceptics sometimes
tell us, that, however positively they may assert their doc
trines, they would not have us think them positive assertors
Sextus Empiricus has done this j and
of any doctrine.
some too, if I mistake not, of our modem Pyrrhonists.

its

But common

readers are not capable of such exquisite re

finement, as to believe, their author to be in earnest, and at

the same time not in earnest j as to believe, that when he
asserts some points with diffidence, and others with the ut
most confidence, he holds himself to be equally difndeat

of

all.

There

is

but one way in which

to satisfy us, that he

is

it is

possible for a sceptic

all doctrines.

equally doubtful of

He

must assert nothing, lay down no principles, contradict

none of the opinions of other people, and advance none of
his own
in a word, he must confine his doubts to his own
:

breast, at least the grounds of his doubts ; or propose them

modestly and privately, not with a view tc make us change

For from
our mind, but only to shew his ov n diffidence.
moment that he attempts to obtrude them on the pub
lic, or on any individual, or even to represent the opinion
the

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

S3
of others as

,p.

S<

probable than his own, he commences a

dogmatist ; and is to be accounted more or less presumptuous,
according as his doctrine is more or less repugnant to com
mon sense, and himself more or less industrious to recom
less

mend it.
Though he were

to content himself with

urging objec
without seeking to lay down any
principle of his own,
which however is a degree of moderation that no
sceptic
ever yet arrived at, we would not on that account
pronounce
him an inoffensive man. If his objections have ever weak
ened the moral or religious belief of any one person, he has
injured that person in his dearest and most important con
cerns.
They who know the value of true religion, and
have had any opportunity of observing its effects on them
selves or others, need not be told, how dreadful to a sen
sible mind it is, to be staggered in its faith
by the cavils
tions,

of the infidel.
Every person of common humanity, who
knows any thing of the heart of man, would shudder at the

thought of infusing scepticism into the pious Christian.

Suppose the Christian to retain his faith in spite of all ob
the confutation of these cannot fail to distress
jections yet
him ? and a habit of doubting, once begun, may, to
the latess hour of his life, prove fatal to his peace of
mind. Let no one mistake or misrepresent me I am not
*,

speaking of those points of doctrine which rational believers

I speak of those
allow- to be indifferent
great and most
essential articles of faith j the existence of a Deity, infinitelywise, beneficitmt, and powerful ; the certainty of a future
state of retribution ; and the divine authority of the gospel.
These are the articles which some late authors labour with
all their might to overturn 9 and these are the articles which
:

every person xvho loves virtue and mankind, would wish

Is it bigotry to
to see ardently and zealously defended.
believe these sublime truths with full assurance of faith ?

I would not part with it for a

I glory in such bigotry
thousand worlds I congratulate the man who is possessed
of it ; for, amidst all the vicissitudes and calamities of the
present state, that man enjoys an inexhaustible fund of con
the power of fortune to de
solation, of wliich it is not
Calamities, did I say ? The evils of a very
prive him.
short life will not be accounted such by him who has *
:

AN ESSAY 0*

F. S.

TRtlTH.

near and certain prospect of a happy eternity;

Will

it

be

said, that the firm belief of these divine truths did ever give
rise to ill-nature or persecution ? It will not be said, by any

person

mind.

who

is

at all

Of such

acquainted with history, or the human,

when, sincere, and undebased by

belief,

criminal passions, meekness, benevolence, and forgiveness,

There is not a book
are the natural and necessary effects.
on earth so favourable to all the kind, and all the sublime
affections, or so unfriendly to hatred and persecution, to
tyranny, injustice, and every sort of malevolence, as that
very gospel against which our sceptics entertain such a
rancorous antipathy.
Of this they cannot be ignorant, if
they have ever read it ; for it breathes nothing throughout

If they have not read

but mercy, benevolence, and peace.
they and their prejudices are as far below our contempt
if they have, their pre
as any thing so hateful can be
tended concern for the rights -of mankind is all hypocrisy
-and a lie.
Nor need they attempt to frame an answer to
this accusation, till they have proved, that the morality of
the gospel is faulty or imperfect ? that virtue is not useful
to individuals, nor beneficial to society 3 that the evils of
life are most effectually alleviated by the extinction of all
it,

that annihilation is a much more encouraging pros

,
pect to virtue, than the certain view of eternal happiness j
that nothing is a greater check to vice, than a firm per
suasion that no punishment awaits it ; and that it is a con

hope

sideration full of misery to a good man, when

weeping on
the grave of a beloved friend, to reflect, that they shall

soon meet again in a better state, never to part any more.

Till the teachers and abettors of infidelity have proved
these points or renounced their pretensions to universal pa
triotism, their character is polluted with all the infamy that
can be implied in the appellation of Her and hypocrite.

wonder at those men who charge upon Christianity

the evils that superstition, avarice, sensuality, and the
love of power, have introduced into the Christian world ;
I

all

and then suppose, that these

evils are to

suppressing criminal passions, but

tianity, or weakening its influence.

by

by

be prevented, not
extirpating Chris

In fact, our religiom

supplies the only effectual means of suppressing these pa
sions, and so preventing the mischief complained of

Ee

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

33 ^
and

P. S.

more or less powerful to accomplish,

according as its influence over the minds of men is greater
or less j and greater or less will its influence be, according
tills it

will ever be

as its doctrines are more or less firmly believed.

It was
not, because they were Christians, but because they chose
to be the avaricious and blood-thirsty slaves of an avari

cious and blood-thirsty tyrant, that Cortez and Pizzaro

perpetrated those diabolical cruelties in Peru and Mexico,

the narrative of which is insupportable to humanity.
Had

they been Christians in anything but in name, they would

have loved their neighbour as themselves j and no man who
loves his neighbour as himself, will ever cut his throat or
roast him alive, in order to get at his money.
If zeal be warrantable on any occasion,

it

must be so in

the present controversy : for I know of no doctrines more

important in themselves, or more affecting to a sensible
mind, than those which the scepticism confuted in this book

Bat why, it may be said, should zeal be

warrantable on any occasion ? The answer is easy Be
When a
cause on some occasions it is decent and natural.
man is deeply interested in his subject, it is not natural for
tends to subvert.

to keep up -the appearance of as much coolness, as if

he were disputing about an indifferent matter and what

him

Were he to hear
always offensive.
his dearest friends branded with the appellation of knaves
and ruffians, would it be natural, would it be decent, for
him to preserve the same indifference in his look, and soft
ness in his manner, as if he were investigating a truth in
conic sections, arguing about the cause of the Aurora
Borealis, or settling a point of ancient history ? Ought he
not to shew, by the sharpness as well as by the solidity of
his reply, that he -not only disavows, but detests the accu
sation ? Is there a man w hose indignation would not -kindle
ut such an insult ? Is there a man -who would be so much
ever

is

not natural

is

overawed by any antagonist,

Of

such a

man

as to conceal his indignation

only say, that

When our subject

I shall

would not chuse

lies near our heart

for my friend.
cur language must be animated, or it will be worse than
Now what
lifeless j it will be affected and hypocritical.
the heart of a Christian, or of a man
He
nearer
can
subject

him

than the existence and perfections of God,

ajid the

immor-

P.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

tality of

tlie

Human

soul

333

If he can not, if he
ought not

to hear with patience the blasphemies belched by unthink

ing profligates in their common conversation, with what

temper ot mind will he listen or reply to the cool, insiduous, and envenomed impieties of the deliberate Atheist
Fy on it that I should need to write so long an apology
for being an enemy to Atheism and nonsense
But why engage in the controversy at all ? Let the
infidel do his worst, and heap sophism on sophism, anil
44
rail, and blaspheme as long as he pleases j if your ichu
gion be from God, or founded in reason, it cannot be
overthrown.
Why then give yourself or others any
trouble with your attempts to support a cause, against
This
which it is said that hell itself shall not prevail
with confidence.
objection has been made, and urged too
!

"

<{

"

"

?"

It has just as much weight as the following.

Why enact
laws against, or inflict punishment upon murderers ? Let
them do their worst, and stab, and strangle, and poison,
as much-.as they please, they will never be able to accom
no?
plish the iinal extermination of the human species,
Such idle talk
perhaps to depopulate a single province.
do be
deserves no answer, or but a very short one.

We

and therefore we

our religion shall

flourish in spite of all the sophistry of malevolent men;
But is their sophistry the less wicked on that account ?
Does it not deserve to be punished with ridicule and con
futation ? Hsve we reason to hope, that a miracle will be
to; save any- 1 individual f*om m-ndelity, .or even any.

lieve,

rejoice, that

wrought

those doubts and apprehensions which th

And is it not
to rai e ?
writings of infidels are intended
worth our, while, is it not our duty, ought it not to be our
?
Nor
inclination, to endeavour to prevent such a calamity
let us imagine that this is the business of the- clergy alone.
no doubt are best qualified for this service ; but we

believer frem

They,

who believe the gospel, are under the same ob

to wish well, and according to our ability, to do
ligation
For my own part, tho the
good to our fellow-creatures.
of
this book had been a work of much greater dif
writing
than I found it to be, I would have
ficulty and labour
of the laity

in the hope of being instrumental

chearfully undertaken it,
in reclaiming even a single sceptic from his unhappy pre-

Ee

A N ESSAY ON TRUTH.

334

P. s.

or in preserving even a single believer from the

Tell me not, that those horrors have
horrors oi scepticism.
EC existence. I know the contrary. Tell me not, that?

j-udices,

the good ends proposed can never in any degree be accom

Of this too I know
plished by performances of this kind.
the contrary.
Suppose a set of men, subjects of the British government,
to publish books setting forth, That liberty, both civil and
is an
absurdity j that trial by juries, the Habeas
religious,

Corpus act,

Magna

Charta, and the Protestant religion, ar$

and that Popery, despotism, and the
j

intolerable nuisances

ought immediately to be established through

out the whole British empire j suppose them to exhort their
countrymen to overturn, or at least to disregard our ex
cellent laws and constitution, and make a tender of their

inquisition,

souls and consciences to the Pope, and of their lives

and

Grand

Seignior y and suppose them to

write so cautiously as to escape the censure of the law, and
yet with plausibility sufficient to seduce many, and give
fortunes to the

much

dissatisfaction, discord, and licentious practice,

fatal
to the happiness of individuals and to the
equally
rise to

With what temper would an Englishman

public peace
sense and spirit set about confuting their principles ?
Would it be decent, or even pardonable, to handle such a
:

ot"

subject with coolness, or to behave with complaisance to

wards such adversaries ? jSuppose them to have specious
\vith their own party for men of can
qualities, and to pass
dour, genius, and learning
yet the lover of liberty and
mankind would not, I presume, be disposed to pay them
any excessive compliments on that account, or on any other.
:

But suppose these political apostates to appear, in the

course of the controversy, chargeable with ignorance and
sophistical reasoning, with evasive and quibbling refine
ments, with misrepresentation of common facts, and mis
apprehension of common language, more attached to hy
their own conceits to
pothesis thsn to the truth, preferring

common

sense of mankind, and seeking to gratify their

exorbitant vanity and lust of paradox, though at the
with what face
expence of the happiness of millions
could their most abject flatterers, and most implicit ad-

the

own

juirers, cc-inplain

of the severity of that antagonist

who

P.

AN ESSAY

S.

ON. TRUTH.

335

should treat both them and their principles with contempt

and indignation ? with what face urge in their defence, that,
though perhaps somewhat blameable on the present occa
sion,

they and their works were notwithstanding

intitled to

universal esteem, and the most respectful usage on account

of their skill in music, architecture, geometry, and the

On this account, would they

the
of society, or the enemies
pests
degree
would their false reasoning be less sophistical,

Greek and Latin tongues

be

in

any

lesa

of mankind

their presumption less arrogant, or their malevolence less

not the men who, like Alexander, Maratrocious ?

Do

chiavel, and the author of La Pucelle d Orleans, employ

their great talents in destroying and corrupting mankind,

the dreadful addition,

aggravate ail their other crimes by
of ingratitude and breach of trust ? And are not their cha
more obnoxious to univer
racters, for this very reason, the
sal

abhorrence

An

illiterate

blockhead in the Robinhood.

of mankind, or labouring
tavern, blaspheming the Saviour
to confound the distinctions of vice and virtue, is a wicked
no doubt but his wickedness admits of some sha

wretch,
dow of excuse , he might plead his ignorance, his stupidi
still moxe profligate lives and principles of those
ty, and the
:

the world, by a preposterous fig ve of speech, is

but the men of parts and learn
betters
pleased to call his
in the same infernal cry, are criminals of a
who
join
ing,
much higher order j for in their defence nothing can be
not aggravate their guilt.
pleaded that will
this book was, to give others the very
in
design
same notions of the sceptical philosophy that I myself en
tertain which I could riot possibly have done, if I had not

whom

My

taken the liberty to deliver my thoughts plainly and with

And truly I saw no reason- for being more
out reserve.
the writings of sceptics, than to- those of otherindulgent to
men. The taste of the public requires not any such extra
Jf ever it should, which is not
ordinary condescension.
then think it prudent to comply ; but,
we
may
probable,
to express our
as we scorn, in matters of such moment,
we will then also throw pen and ink aside y
selves

by

halves,

never to be resumed until we again find, that we

honest at the &.one time.
safety write, and be

&&*

may

with,

336

AN

ESS/iY

ON

TJIUTH.

J. S.

Infidels take it upon them to treat religion and its

friends with opprobrious language, misrepresentation, un
deserved ridicule, and divers other sorts of abuse.
Some

of them assert, with the most dogmatical assurance, what

they know to be contrary to the common sense of man
All this passes for wit, and eloquence, and liberal
kind.
But whenever the friends of
inquiry, and a manly spirit.
truth espouse, with warmth, that cause which they know
to be agreeable to common sense and universal opinion,,
this is called bigotry
and whenever the Christian vindi
:

with earnestness, those principles which he believes

to be of the highest importance, and which he knows to be
rssential to tlie happiness of man, immeuiately he is
charged
vvith want of moderation, want of temper, enthusiasm, and
Far be it from the lover of truth
the spirit of persecution.
cates,

imitate those authors in misrepresentation, or in en

deavouring to expose their adversaries to unmerited ridicule.
to

But if a man were to obtain a patent for vending poison ,

would be very hard to deny his neighbour the privilege
If their zeal in spreading and re
of selling the antidote.
commending their doctrines be suffered to pass without

it

censure, our zeal in vindicating ours has at least as good a

If this is not allowed, I must
title to pass uncensured.
suppose, that the present race of iniidels, like the jure di-

vino kings, imagine themselves invested with some pecu

liar sanctity of character j that whatever they are pleased
to say is to be received as law and the fashion , and that
to contradict their will, or even address them without pro
stration, is indecent

and criminal.

know

not whence

it

Is it from
that they assume these airs of superiority.
the high rank some of them hold in the world of letters ?
I would have them to know, that it is but a short time

is

rnce that high rank was either yielded to, or claimed by

such persons.
Spinoza, Hobbes, Collins, Woolston, snd
the rest of that tribe, were within these forty or fifty years
accounted a very contemptible brotherhood. The great
them with little ceremony ;
geniuses of the last age treated
and would not, I suppose, were they now alive, pay more
than they did
respect to imitators, copiers, and plagiaries,
If the enemies of our religion
to the oiiginal authors.
\VQuld profit by experience, they might learn, from the

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

?. s.

337

some of their most renowned brethren, that infi

delity, however fashionable and lucrative, is not the most
convenient field for a successful display of genius.
Kver
fate of

since Voltaire, stimulated by avarice, and other

dotages
incident to unprincipled old age, formed the scheme of
turning a penny by WTiting three or four volumes yearly

against the Christian religion, he has dwindled from a ge

nius of no common magnitude into a paltry book-maker j
and now thinks he does great and terrible things, by re
tailing the crude

and long exploded notions of the

free

thinkers of the last age, which, when seasoned with a few

mistakes, misrepresentations, and ribaldries of his own,
form such a mess of falsehood, impiety, obscenity, and other

abominable ingredients, as nothing but the monstrous maw

of an illiterate infidel can either digest or endure. Several
of our famous sceptics have lived to see the greatest part
I hope, and earnestly
of their profane tenets confuted.
wish, that they may live to make a full recantation. Some
of them must have known, and many of them might haveknown, that their tenets were confuted before they adopt

ed them
display

yet did they adopt them notwithstanding, and.

to the world with as much confidence as if
had ever been advanced on the other side. So
:

them

nothing
have I seen a testy and stubborn dogmatist, when all his
arguments were answered, and all. his invention exhausted^
comfort himself at last with simply repeating his former
positions at the end of each new remonstrance from the ad
versary.

They who

works of tne sceptical

well, that those gentlemen do not

are conversant in the

know very
7

philosophers,

which might be
always maintain that moderation of style
if I
of
their
from
j
thought
profession and
persons
expected
my conduct in this respect needed to be or could be, jus
such a precedent, I might plead even their ex
tified

by
ample as

my apology. But
such a precedent could afford

me

disclaim every plea that

I write not in the spirit
:

myself inclined to be an
Indeed it is
models.
imitator, I will look out for other
I would take those for my pat
that
be
to
supposed,
hardly
whose writings I detest, and
tern, whose talents I despise,
are so directly opposite to
and
whose
of retaliation

and when

principles

I find

projects

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.
mine.

F. S*

Their writings tend to subvert the foundations of

human knowledge,

to poison the sources of

human happi

and to overturn that religion which the best and

wisest of men have believed to be of divine original, and
which every good man, who understands it, must reverence
as the greatest blessing ever conferred upon the human;
I write with
view to counteract those tendencies,.
race.
by vindicating some fundamental articles of religion and
science from the sceptical objections, and by shewing, that
no man can attempt to disprove the first principles of know
To the common
ledge without contradicting himself.
ness,

?.<.

sense of mankind, they scruple not to oppose their own

conceits, as if they judged these to be more worthy of
I
eredit than any other authority, human or divine.
urge

nothing with any degree of confidence or fervour, in which

I have not good reason to think myself warranted by the
common sense of mankind. Does their cause, then, or.
does mine, deserve the warmest attachment ? Have they,
or have I, the most need to guard -against vehemence of
* ? As
certainly as the happiness of mankind
expression
is

a desirable object, so certainly

is

my

cause good,

and

theirs evil.

To conclude Liberty of speech and writing is one of

those high privileges that distinguish Great Britain from
all other nations.
Every good subject wishes, "that it may
be preserved to the latest posterity j and would be sorry
:

to see the civil

power interpose to check the progress of

Nay, when inquiry ceases to be rational,

rational inquiry.

and becomes both whimsical and pernicious, advancing as

some late authors have carried k, to controvert the
first principles of knowledge, morality and religion, and
far as

*
There is no satisfying the demands of false delicacy," says an
because they are rot regulated by any
elegant and pious author,
But a man of candour and judgment will allow,
fixed standard.
that the bashful timidity practised by those who put themselves on
"

a level with the adversaries of religion,

*
"

would

ill

become one who,

of
declining all disputes, asserts primary truths on the authority
common sense ; and that whoever pleads the caute of religion in
this way, has a right to assume a firmer tone, and to pronounce
with a more decisive air, not upon the strength of his own juclgment, but on the reverence, due from all mankind to the tribunal
to

which he

appeals."

Appeal In bcbatf of

rclig on,

f>.

14.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

s*

consequently the fundamental laws of the British govern

ment, and of all well-regulated society , even then, it must

do more hurt than good to oppose it with the arm of flesh.

I or persecution and.
punishment for the sake of opinion,.
seldom fail to strengthen the party they are intended to
and when opinions are combated by such wea
suppress
pons only, (which would probably be the case if the law
were to interpose), a suspicion arises in the minds of men,
that no other weapons are to be had j and therefore that
1

the sectary, though destitute of power,

is not
wanting in
Let opinions then be combated by reason, and
let ridicule be employed to expose nonsense. And to keep
our licentious authors in awe, and to make it their interest
to think before they write, to examine facts before they
draw inferences, to read books before they criticise them,,
and to study both sides of a question before they take it ,
upon them to give judgment, it would not be amiss, if
their vices and follies, as authors, were sometimes chastised
by a satirical seventy of expression. This is a proper pu
nishment for their fault j this punishment they certainly
deserve j and this it is not beneath the dignity of a philo
sopher, or divine, or any man who loves God and his fel

argument.

inflict.
Milton, Locke, Cudworth, Sid
and
of the greatest and best writers
several
ney, Tillotson,
of the present age, have set the example j and have, I
doubt not, done good by their nervous and animated ex

low-creatures, to

solidity of their arguments.

with discretion, might teach
our licentious authors something of. modesty, and of de
ference to the judgment of mankind ; and, it is to be hoped,,
would in time bring down that spirit of presumption, and
affected superiority, which hath of late distinguished their
and contributed, more perhaps than all their sub

pression, as well as

This punishment,

by the

if inflicted

writings,

and sophistry, to the seduction of the ignorant, the

of causes
unwary, and the fashionable. It is true, the best
may be pleaded with an excess of warmth as when the

tlety

advocate

is

so blinded

to lose sight of his

in order to render his adversaries

by

argument j or as when,
odious, he alludes to such

his zeal as

character or
particulars of their
from their writ
private history as are not to be gathered
The former fault never fails to injure the cause
ings.

AW ESSAY ON TRUTH.

34

which the writer means

to

defend

P. S.

the latter, xvhich

is

properly termed personal abuse, is in itself so hateful, that

every person of common prudence would be inclined to avoid it for his own sake, even though he were not restrained

by more weighty motives.

If an author s
writings be sub
versive of virtue, and dangerous to private happiness, and
the public good, we ought to hold them in detestation, and,
in order to counteract their baneful tendency, to endeavour
to render them detestable in the eyes of others ? thus far
-

men, and good

private history we have r.o concern

\ve act the

part of honest

but
nor with his
character, except in so far as he has thought proper to sub
mit it to the. public judgment, by displaying it in hi
works. When these are of that peculiar sort, that we
cannot expose them in their proper colours, without reflec
ting on his abilities and moral character, we ought by no
means to sacrifice our lore of truth and mankind to a com

with

his

citizens

j.

plaisance which, if we are what we pretend to be, andoughfc

to be, would be hypocritical at best, as well as mocker/

of the public, and treichery to our cause.

The good of
society is always to be considered as a matter of higher

importance than the gratification of an author s vanity. If

he does not think of this in time, and take care that the
latter be consistent with the former, he has himself to

blame

Trie severity of Collier s

for all the consequences.
attack upon the stage, in the end of the last century, was^
even in the judgment of one * who thought it excessive,
and who will not be suspected of partiality to that author s
doctrine, productive of very good effects ; as it obliged the

succeeding dramatic poets to curb that propension to in

decency, which had carried some of their predecessors so
far beyond the bounds of good taste and good manners;
If xre are not permitted to answer the objections of the in
fidel as plainly, and with as little reserve as he makes
them, we engage him on unequal terms. And many will
be disposed to think most favourably- of that cause, whose
adherents display the greatest ardour ; and some, perhaps;

may

be tempted to impute to timidity, or to a secret dif

what might have been owing to
a much more pardonable weakness. Nay, if we pay our
fidence o r our principles,

* Colley

Gibber,

See his Apology, vol. i.-p.-2oi.

f.

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH.

sceptical adversaries their full

34,1

demand of compliment and

adulation ; and magnify their genius and virtue, while we

confute their atheistical and nonsensical sophisms ; and
speak with as much respect of their pitiful conceits and
flimsy wrangli.ngs, as of the sublimest discoveries in phi
is there not reason to fear that our
j
writings will
do little or no service ? For, may not some of our readers

losophy

question our sincerity ? May not many of them continue

the admirers and dupes of the authors whom we seem so
passionately to admire, and whose merit will not appear
to them the less conspicuous that it is acknowledged by an

avowed antagonist ? And, lastly, will not the adversaries

themselves, more gratified than hurt by such a confutation,
because more ambitious of applause, than concerned for
truth, rejoice in their fancied superiority j and, finding
their books become every day more popular and marketable

by the consequence we give them, be encouraged

to

per

and impious career ?

For my own part, though I have always been, and shall
always be, happy in applauding excellence wherever I
find it j yet neither the pomp of wealth nor the dignity of
office, neither the frown of the great nor the sneer of the fa
shionable, neither the sciolist s clamour nor the profligate s
resentment, shall ever sooth or frighten me into an admi
sist

in their malevolent

ration, real or pretended, of impious tenets, sophistical rea

soning, or that paltry metaphysic with which literature has
I am not
late years,
addicted to controversy, as ever to enter into any
but what I judge to be of very great importance and in
to such controversy I cannot, I will not enter with cold
If I should, I might please a party,
ness and unconcern.
but I must offend the public j I might escape the censure
of those whose praise I would not value j but I should

been so disgraced and pestered of

so

much

justly forfeit the esteem of good men, and incur the disap
own conscience.
probation of

my

THE END.
Thomas

Turnbull, Printer,

Edinburgh.

14-03

B53E68
1B05

Seattle, James
An essay on the nature
and immutability of truth
6th ed.

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