Ex Libris C. K. OGDEN llty+ii h ' THE PHILOSOPHICAL DICTIONARY: OR, THE OPINIONS O F MODERN PHILOSOPHERS O K METAPHYSICAL, MORAL, AND POLITICAL SUBJECTS. IN FOUR VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED FOR G. G. J. AND J, ROBINSON; AND FOR C. ELLIOT, EDINBURGH. PREFACE. CT* H E following Work is compiled from the wri- tings of the moft eminent philofophers in Europe". Jt was undertaken originally 'with no other view but to fcrve as a Common-place Book for pri- vate nfe. If the publication of it can add to the amiifemcnt of travellers who carry few books with them, or fatisfy the curiojity of thofe who cannot furchafe many books, or have little time to read them, it "will anfwer every purpofe the editor could expecl. There are fame articles in it which have been the fubjecl of controversy among/I ancient as -well as modern philofophers : on thefe fubjecl s, the argu- ments on both fides of the quejlion are, in general^ fxtratledfor the fatisfaclion of the reader. I/the i*c*rk meet the approbation of the Public, the de~ feels of it may be amended in a Supplement or fu- ture Edition* A hve of truth, and warm wifbes for its dif- fufion, under refpeclable authorities, were the fole cbjeclsof the editor in this publication. LONDON, 7 January 1786.5 F. S******R, M. D. A2 **"* O '3 ?~* jl Cnterrti fn tau'otur* fcaU, or THE FIRST VOLUME, Page ABSURDITY laughs at folly - 13 ADMIRATION and Acquaintance incompa- tible - 14 ADULTERY, and its punifhment - 15 ADVICE - 17 On the fame fubjecl: iS AMBITION - - 24 ATTACHMENT (our) and efteem for others depend on the analogy of their ideas to our own - 25: A 3 6 CON TEN T s. Page ANIMALS (the origin of the inferiority of to man) - 28 ANIMALS (the reafon of) - 31 ARTS and Sciences (free governments alone favourable to the rife of) - - 33 ASSASINATION of Princes - 34. ASSENT derived from teftimony and experi- ence 35 ASSENT to be regulated by the ground of probability - - 37 ASSOCIATION of ideas - 40 ASSOCIATION of ideas (a general view of Hartley's doctrine of) ASSURANCE - ATHEISM On the fame fubjecr. On the fame fubjefc ATHEISM and fuperflition ATHEISTS and Theifts (the difputes be- tween) verbal - - ^6 AVARICE 58 On the fame fubjecl "" 59 BANKRUPTCY (national) - 61 BEASTS - - 66 BEAUTY andBEAUTiFUL - 69 f 2 BE- CONTENTSt ^ Page BEING (a cogitative) has exiftedfrom eternity 70 BELIEF - ' - - 74 On the fame fubjetT: 76 On the fame fubjetT: - - 78 BELIEF or DISBELIEF - - 82 BENEFICENCE - - - 84 BENEFICENCE and gratitude - 85 BIGOTRY (religious) - '- 86 BLACKNESS (the.effe&s of) - 87 CALVINISTIC Divinity CAUSE and effect CAUSE (exiftence of a firft) CERES ELEUSINA (myfteries of) On the fame fubjetl CERTAINTY CHAIN of events - CHANCE and Caufes CHARACTER - CHARACTERS (national) CHARACTER (dignity of) CHARLES I. (punifhment of) CHASTITY (the merit of) derived from its utility - - 117 CHILDREN (the different capacities of) 1 19 CHRISTIAN religion, its progrefs and efta- biiihinent in the Roman empire - 121 CHRI- 5 CONTENTS, Page CHRISTIANITY, not adapted to make a conftitutional part in any fyftem of legif- lation. - - - 124 CIVIL commotions - - 127 CLiMATEs(thedifFerenceofmenin different) 128 CLIMATE (the influence of) on mankind 132 CL IM A TE^the influence of) - 133 COMMERCE favourable to civilization and peace 134 CONSCIENCE - - 135 On the fame fubje& - 139 CONSCIENCE (liberty of) 143 CONTEMPT - - 144 CONTROVERSY - - 145 CONTROVERSIES (religious) - *A. CONVERSATION - 150 On the fame fubjeft - - ib. CORN (exportation of) - 152 COUNTRY - - 154 CORRUPTION (religious and political) 156 COURTEZANS - - 158 CREATION ... 160 CREDULITY and authority - 162 CRIMES (degrees of) - - 163 CRIMES (evidence of) 164 CRIMES and punifhments (the proportion between) - . 166 CB.O-WN. CONTENTS. CROWN (influence of the) in the Britifli Par- liament - - 167 CUSTOMS (the origin of barbarous and ridi- culous) in various ages and nations i6S DARKNESS (Locke's opinion concerning) confidered - - - 173 DEITY - 178- On the fame fubjel - - 182 DEITY (idea and belief of) not innate 183 DEITY (worihip of) - 184 DELICACY of tafte and of paffion - 185 DELIRIUMS - 188 DELUGE - - 190 DESTINY - - 192 DISCRETION - 194 DIVISIBILITY of matter - 195 DIVORCE and repudiation - 197 DOTAGE - - 199^ DREAMS ... 200 DRESS (female) - - 202 DURATION - - -203 ECCLESIASTICAL power and its influence 206 EC. io CONTENT s. Page EccLEsiAsrrcAL (the advantage of uniting the civil and; powers - 22 and yet you drink." " Truly," replied the oculift, " that is becaufe I am fonder of drinking " than of being cured." How many men are there like this oculift, whofe happinefs depends on paffions that muft plunge them in the greateft mi- fery, and yet, however, if I may venture to fay fo, would be fools, did they endeavour to be more wife ! There are men, and experience has mown that they are pretty numerous, who are fo mife- rable, they can no otherwife be happy than by performing actions that lead to the grave. If, as Pafcal fays, habit is a fecond, and perhaps a firft nature, it muft be acknowledged that a bad habit once confirmed, will laft as long as life. But it ADVICE. 23 rnay be anfvrered, There are alfo men who, fof want of wife advice, daily commit the grofTeft faults ; and good advice doubtlefs might make them efcape their misfortunes. To which it is replied, that they would commit more confiderable ftill, if they gave themfelves up inconfiderately to the counfels of others. Whoever blindly fol- lows them muft obferve a conduct full of incon* filtences, commonly more fatal than the excefs even of the paifions Inconfiderate advice pre- cipitates us too often into the abyfs of misfortune. Hence we ought often to call to mind this faying of Socrates : " May I," fays that philofopher, " al- " ways be on my guard againft my mailers and " my friends, constantly preferve my foul in a n -'tranquil ftate, and obey none but reafon, .the " beft of counfellors !" Whoever hears reafon, is not only deaf to bad counfel, but alfo weighs in the balance of doubt the advice even of thofc men who are refpeftable by their age, their dig- nity, and their merit, yet confider themfelves as of too much importance, and, like the hero of Cer- vantes, have a corner of folly to which they would bring every thing. If advice be ever ufeful, it is when it puts us in a condition to judge better for ourfelves : if it be prudent to afk it, it is only fo when it is afked of thofe wife men who, know- ing the value and fcarcity of good counfel, are very ASSENT. pey ; this, though in the nature of the thing there be nothing for nor againft it, yet being related by hiftorians of credit, and contradi&ed by no one xvriter, a man cannot avoid believing it; and can as little doubt of it, as he does of the being and actions of his own acquaintance, whereof he him- felf is a witnefs. Thus far the matter goes on eafy enough. Probability upon fuch grounds carries fo much evidence with it, that it naturally determines the judgment, and leaves us as little liberty to believe or difbelieve, as a demonftration does, whether we will know or be ignorant. The difficulty is when teftimonies contradict common experience, and the reports of hiftory and wit- nefles clam with the ordinary courfe of nature, or with one another , there it is, where diligence, attention and exactnefs are required, to form a right judgment, and to proportion the aflent to the different evidence and probability of the thing ; which rifes and falls according as thofe two foundations of credibility, viz. common ob- fervation in like cafes, and particular teftimonies in that particular inftance, favour or contradict it. Thefe are liable to fo great a variety of con- trary obfervations, circumftances, reports, diffe- rent qualifications, tempers, defigns, overfights, &c. of the reporters, that it is impoflible to re- duce into precifc rules die various degrees where- 3 a ASSENT. $7 in men give their aflent. This only may be faid in general, that as the arguments and proofs for and againft, upon due examination, nicely weighing every particular circumftance, {hall to any one appear, upon the whole matter, in a greater or lefs degree to preponderate on either fide ; fo they are fitted to produce in the mind fuch different entertainments, as we call belief, con- jecture, guefs, doubt, wavering, diftruft, dif- belief, &c. LOCKE. ASSENT TO BE REGULATED BY THE GROUND OF PROBABILITY. THE grounds of probability, as they are the foundations on which our aflent is built, fo arc they alfo the meafure whereby its feveral degrees are, or ought to be, regulated: only we are to take notice, that whatever grounds of probability there may be, they yet operate no farther on the mind, which fearches after truth, and endeavours to judge right, than they appear ; at leaft in the firft judgment or fearch that the mind makes. I confefs, in the opinions men have and firmly "flick to in the world, their aflent is not always from an atual view of the reafons that at firft pre- vailed with them : it being in many cafes almofl impoffible, and in moft very hard, even for thofe who have very admirable memories, to retain a!4 VOL. I, D f tfcc 3$ ASSENT. the proofs which upon a due examination made them embrace that fide of the queftion. It fuf- fices that they have once with care and fairnefs fifted the matter as far as they could j and that they have fearched into all the particulars that they could imagine to give any light to the queftion, and with the beft of their Ikill caft up the account upon the whole evidence: and thus having once found on which fide the probability appeared to them, after as full and exact an inquiry as they can make, they lay up their conclulion in their memories, as a truth they had difcovered ; and for the future they remain fatisfied with the teftimony of their memories, that this is the opinion, that by the proofs they have once feen of it deferves fuch a degree of their aflent as they afford it. This is all that the greateft part of men are ca- pable of doing in regulating their opinions and judgment; unlefs a man will exact of them, either to retain diftinttly in their memories all the proofs concerning any probable truth, and that too in the fame order and regular deduction of confe- quences in which they have formerly placed or feen them ; which fometimes is enough to fill a large volume on one fingle queftion : or elfe they muft require a man, for every opinion that he embraces, every day to examine the proofs : both which are impofiible. It is unavoidable, therefore, ihal the memory be relied on in the cafe, and that ASSENT. 39 that men be perfuaded of feveral opinions, v.-here- of the proofs are not actually in their thoughts ; nay, which perhaps they are not able actually to recall. Without this the greateft part of men muft be either very fceptics, or change every moment, and yield themfelves up to whoever, ha- ving lately ftudieJ the queflion, offers them ar- guments, which, for want of memory, they are net able prefently to anfwer. I cannot but own, that mens flicking to their, part judgment, and adhering firmly to conclufions formerly made, is often the caufe of great obfti- nacy in error and miftake. But the fault is not that they rely on their memories for what they have before well judged; but becaufe they judged before they had well examined. May we not find a great number (not to fay the greateft part) of men that think they have formed right judg* ment of feveral matters ; and that for no other reafon, but becaufe they never thought otherwife ? who imagine themfelves to have judged right, only becaufe they never queftioned, never exami- ned their own opinion ? which is indeed to think they judged right, becaufe they never judged at all: and yet thefe of all men hold their opinion with the greateft fliffnefs; thofe being generally the moft fierce and firm in their tenets who have leaft examined them. What we once know, we are certain is fo : and we may be fecure v that there D 2 are 4 ASSOCIATION OF IDEIS. are no latent proofs undifcovered, which may overturn our knowledge or bring it in doubt. But in matters of probability, it is not in. every afe we can be fure that we have all the. particu- lars before us that any way concern the queftion , and that there is no evidence behind, and yet un- feen, which may caft the probability on the other fide, and outweigh all that at prefent feem to pre- ponderate with us. LOCKE. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. THE affociation of ideas is the cement which unites the fabric of the human intellect ; without which, pleafure and pain would be fimple and ineffectual fenfations. The vulgar, that is, all men who have no general ideas or univerfal prin- ciples, act in confequence of the mod immediate and familiar aflbciations: but the more remote and complex only prefent themfelves to the minds of thofe who are paffionately attached to a finglc object; or to thofe of greater underflanding, who have acquired an habit of rapidly comparing together a number of objects, and of forming a conclufion j and the refult, that is, the action in confequence, by thefe means becomes lefs dan- gerous and uncertain. BECCARIA. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.- 4* A GENERAL VIEW OF HARTLEY^ DOCTRINE OF ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. THE mechanical aflbciation of ideas that has been frequently prefented to the mind at the fame time, was firft noticed by Mr Locke ; but he had recourfe to it only to explain thofe fym- pathies and antipathies which he calls unnatural^ in oppofition to thofe which, he fays, are born with us ; and he refers, them to trains of motion in the animal fpirits. It appeared probable to Hartley, who took the hint firft from Locke, that not only all our in- tellectual pleasures and pains, but all the pheno- mena of memory, imagination, volition, reafoning, and every other mental Direction and operation, aje only different modes and cafes of the aiTociation of ideas : fo that nothing is*equifite to make any man whatever he is, but a fentient principle, with this fingle property (which admits of great variety), and the influence of fuch circumftances as he has actually been expofed to. In order to fee the poffibility of Hartleys theory of the mind, we mull obferve, that all the phenomena of the mind muft be reduced to the faculties of memory, judgment, the pajfims and the will, to which may be added the power of mu/cular motion. Suppofmg the human mind to have acquired a flock of ideas by means of the external fenfes,., JD 3 smd r jj2 ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. and that thefe ideas have been varioufly aflbciated together, fo that when one of them is prefent, ft will introduce fuch others as it has the neareft connexion with and relation to; nothing more feems neceflary to explain the phenomena of me- mory. For we have no power of calling up any idea at pleafure, but only recollect fuch as have a connection, by means of former aflbciations, with thofe that are at any time prefent to the mind. Thus the fight, or the idea, of any parti- cular perfon, generally fuggefts the idea of his name, becaufe they have been frequently aflbci- ated together. If that fail to introduce the name,, we are at a lofs, and cannot recollect it at. all, till fome other aflbciated circumftance help us. In naming a number of words or lines in a poem^ the end of each preceding, word being connected with the beginning of the fucceeding one, we can tafily repeat them in that order ; but we are not able to repeat them backwards, till they have been frequently named in that contrary order. By this means, however, vte acquire a facility of doing it, as may be found by the names of num- bers from one to twenty. In the wildeft flights of fancy, it is probable that no fmgle idea occurs to us but fuch as had a connection with fome other impreflion or idea previouily exifting in the mind ; and what we call new thoughts, are only ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 43 only new combinations of old fimple ideas, or de- compofitions of complex ones. Judgment is nothing more than the perception of the univerfal concurrence or the perfect coin- cidence of two ideas, or the want of that concur- rence and coincidence ; as, that milk is -white ; that twice tivo is four ; or transferring the idea of truth by aflbciation from one propofition to another that refembles it. When we fay that Alexander conquered Darius, we mean, that the perfon whom we diftinguifh by the name of Alexander, is the fame with him who conquered Darius; and when we fay that Cod is goody we mean, that the perfon whom we diftin- guifh by the name of God, appears, by his works and conduct to be poflefled of the fame difpofi- tion that we call good or benevolent in men. And having attained to the knowledge of general truths^ the idea or feeling which accompanies the perception of truth, is transferred by aflbciation to all the particulars which are comprifed under it, and to other proportions that are analogous to it; having found by experience, that when we have formed fuch conclufions, we have not been deceived. When we fay that any idea or clrcumftance excites a particular pajfiw, it is explained by ob- ferving, that certain feelings and emotions have been formerly conne&ed with that particular idea or 44 ASSOCIATION OF IDEA?. cr circumftance, which it has the power of re- calling by aflbciation. Tims, with refpect to the pafiion oifear, it is evident to obfervation, that a child is unacquainted with any fuch thing till it has received feme hurt ; upon which the pain- ful idea, left in the mind by the remembrance of the hurt, becomes affociated with the idea of the circumftances in which he received the hurt-, and by degrees with that circumftance only which is eflential to it, and which he therefore confiders as the proper caufe of his hurt. If a variety of painful emotions and difagreeable feelings have been aiTociated with the idea of the fame circum- - fiance, they will all be excited by it in one ge- neral complex emotion, the component p.irts of which will not be e?.fily diftinguifhable ; and by their mutual aflbciations they will at length en- tirely coalefce, fo as never to be feparately per- ceived.; A child has no fear of fire till he has been burnt by it, or of a dog rill he has been bit by one, or without having had reafon to think that a dog would bite him, and having feme notion from things of a fimilar nature what the bite of a dog is. In like manner, the pafficm of kve is ge- nerated by the affociation of agreeable circum- ftances with the idea of the object v/hich e-xcites k. And all our other pa/lions are only modifica- tions of thefe general ones of/ear or /ove, varying vith the fituaticn of the objecl of fear or love \vitlr ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 4$ with refpecl: to us, as whether it be near or di- ftant, expected or unexpected, &c. According to this hypothefis, all our paffions are at firft inter efted^ refpecting our own plea- fures or pains ; and this fufficiently agrees with our obfervation : and they become difinterefted when thefe complex emotions are transferred by aflbciation to other perfons or things. Thus the child loves his nurfe or parent, by corme&ing with the idea of them the various pleafures which he has received from them, or in their company: but having received the moil happinefs from them, or with them, when they themfelves were cheerful and happy, he begins to defire their happinefs ; and in time it becomes as much an ob- ject with him as his own proper happinefs. The natural progrefs of a paffion may be moft diftinctly feen in that of the love cf money ; which is acquired fo late in life, that every ftep in the progrefs may be eafily traced. No perfon is born with the love of money as fuch. A child is in- deed pleafed with a piece of coin, as he is with other things, the form or the fplendor of which ftrikes his eyej but this is very different from that emotion which a man who has been accuftomed to the ufe of money, and has known the want of it, feels upon being prefented with a guinea or a {hilling. This emotion is a very complex one ; the component parts of which are diftinguifliable, but 46 ASSOCIATION or IDEAS. but wluch have all been feparately connected with the idea of money and the ufes of it. For after a child has received the firft fpecies of plea- fure from a piece of money, as a mere play-t hing> he receives additional pleafure from the poiTeiTion of it, by connecting with the idea of it the idea of the various pleafures and advantages which ir is able to procure him. And in time, that complex idea of pleafure, which was originally formed of the Tarious pleafures which it was the means of pro- curing, is fo intimately connected with the idea of money, that it becomes an object of a proper paf- fion; fo that men are capable of purfuing it, with- out ever reflecting on any ufe that it may poflibly be of to them. A volition is a modification of the paflion of de/tre^ exclufive of any tumultuous emotion which the idea of a favourite object not pofleiled may excite; and it is generally followed by thofe ac- tions with which that ftate of mind has been afTb- ciated, in confequence of thofe actions having been found by experience to be inftrumental in bringing the favourite object into our pofleflion. At firft a child ftretches out his hand, and per- forms the motion of grafping^ without any par- ticular intentfon, whenever the palm of his hand is irritated, or by any general ftimulus which puts the whole mufcular fyftem into motion. But play-things being put into his hand, and it clofing ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 47 clofing upon them, he learns by degrees to ftretch forth his hand, as well as to grafp any thing. At length the action becomes familiar, and is in- timately aflbciated with a fight of a favourite ob- ject ; fo that the . moment it is perceived, the actions of reaching and grafping immediately and mechanically fucceed. Any perfon who has been accuftomed to obferve the actions of children, muft have frequently feen all the fteps of this pro- cefs; and in a fimilar manner, it may be conceived that we learn to procure the gratification of all our defires. There is nothing that has more the appearance of inftinft than the motions of particular mufcles in certain circumflances ; and yet there is hardly one of them that Hartley has not in a manner de- monftrated to have been originally automatic; the mufcles being firft forced to contract invo- luntarily, and becoming afterwards alTociated with the idea of the circumftance, fo that the one im- mediately and mechanically follows the other. - What can be more inftantaneous, and have more the appearance of inftinct, than the endeavour of all animals to recover the equilibrium of their bodies when they are in danger of falling; yet children have it not, but acquire it gradually and flowly. The fame is the cafe of the action of fucking, and the motion of the eye-lids when any thing approaches the eye. This afTociation, how- ever, 4* ASSOCIATION o* IDEAS. ever, grows fo firm in a courfe of years, that it is hardly pofllble to counteract it by the moft de- termined refolution when we are grown up j though you may bring any thing ever fo near, and ever fo fuddenly, to the eye of a young child, when it is moft perfectly awake, without exciting any motion in the eye-lids. In fine, we muft admire the fimplicity of na- ture, and the provifion for the growth of all the faj/ions and propenfities juft as they are wanted, and in the degree in which they are wanted through life: All is performed by the general difpofition of the mind to conform to its circum- (lances, and to be modified by them without parti- cular inftincts. PRIESTLEY. ASSURANCE. WHERE any particular thing, confonant to the conftant obfervation of ourfelves and others in the like cafe, comes attefted by the concurrent report* of all that mention it, we receive it as eafHy, and build as firmly upon it, as if it were certain knowledge; and we reafon and al thereupon with as little doubt as if it were perfect demon- ftration. Thus if all Englimmen, who have oc- cafion to mention it, fhould affirm that it froze in England the laft winter, or that there were iWallows feen there in the fummer ; I think a 3 man ASSURANCE. 49 could almoft as little doubt of it as that feven and four are eleven. The firft, therefore, and higheft degree of probability, is, when the general confent of all men, in all ages, as far as it can be known, concurs with a man's conflant and never- failing experience in like cafes, to confirm the truth of any particular matter of facl: attefted by fair witneffes: fuch are all the dated conftitutions and properties of bodies, and "the regular pro- ceedings of caufes and effects in the ordinary courfe of nature. This we call an argument from the nature of things themfelves : For what our own and other mens conftant obfervation has found always to be after the fame manner, that we with reafon conclude to be the effects of fteady and regular caufes, though they come not within the reach of our knowledge. Thus that fire warmed a ma'n, made lead fluid, and changed the colour or confiftency in wood or charcoal ; that iron funk in water, and fwam in quickfilver : thefe and the like propofitions about particular facts, being agreeable to our conflant experience, as often as we have to do with thefe matters ; and being generally fpoken of (when mentioned by others) as things found conflantly to be fo, and therefore not fo much as controverted by any body ; we are put paft doubt, that a relation affirming any fuch thing to have been, or any predication that it will happen again in the fame VOL. I. f E man 5<> A-S S U RANGE. manner, is very true. ; Thefe probabilities rife (Q near to certainty, that they govern our thoughts asabfolutely, and influence all our actions as fully, as the moft evident demonftration ; and in what concerns us, we make little or no difference be- tween them and certain knowledge. Our belief, thus grounded, rifes to afiurance. LOCKE. ATHEISM. WHY is a fociety of Atheifls thought impof- fible ? Becaufe it is thought that men under no reftraint could never live together ; that laws avail nothing againft fecret crimes ; and that there inuft be an avenging God, punifhing in this world or the other thofe delinquents who have efcaped human juftice. Though Mofes's law did not reach a life to come, did not thereaten any punifhment after death, and did not leave the primitive Jews the leaft infight into the immorta- lity of the foul ; ftill the Jews, fo far from bei^g Atheifts, fo far from denying a divine vengeance againft wickednefs, were the moft religious men on the face of the earth. They not only be- lieved the exiftence of an eternal God, but they believed him to be ever prefent among them: they dreaded being punifhed in themfelves, in their wives, in their children, in their pofterity to ATHEISM. 51 to the fourth generation : and this was a very powerful reftraint. But among the Gentiles, feveral fels had no curb : the Sceptics doubted of every thing ; the Epicureans held that the Deity could not concern" - himfelf about human affairs, and in reality they did not allow of any Deity; they were perfuaded that the foul is not a fubftance, but a faculty born and periming with the body; confequently their only check was morality and honour. The Roman fenators and knights were downright Atheifts ; as neither to fear or expel any thing from the gods, amounts to a denial of their exif- tence: fo that the Roman fenate, in Cxfar's and Cicero's time, was in fat an aflembly of Atheifts. VOLTAIRE, ON THE SAME SUBJECT. PLUTARCH thinks unworthy opinions of the Deity more criminal than Atheifm. But, with fub-- miflion to Plutarch, nothing can be more evident, than that it was infinitely better for the Greeks to Hand in awe of Geres, Neptune, and Jupiter, than to be under no manner of awe. The facrednefs of oaths is manifeft and neceflary; and they who hold that perjury will be punifhed, are certainly more to be trufted than thofe who think that a falfe oath will be attended with no ill confe- quence. 52 ATHEISM.. quence. It is beyond all queftion, that in a policed city, even a bad religion is better than none. But fanaticifm is certainly a thoufand times more dangerous than Atheifm: there is in Atheifm no temptation to thofe fanguinary pro- cedures, for which fanajicifm is notorious ; if Atheifm do not fupprefs crimes, fanaticifm in- cites to the commiflion of them. The fanatics committed the mafTacre of St. Bartholomew. Hobbes was accounted ^n Atheift ; yet he led a quiet harmlefs life, whilil the fanatics were de- iuging England, Scotland, and Ireland with blood. -. Spinofa was not only an Atheift, but taught Atheifm : yet who can fay he had any hand in the juridical murder of Barneveldt? It was not he who tore the two De Witts to pieces, and broiled. and eat their flefh. Atheiils for the moil part are men of ftudy, but bold and erroneous in their reafonings ; and, not comprehending the creation, the original of evil, and other difficulties, have fe- courfe to the hypothefis of the eternity of things and of neceflity. The fenfualift and ambitious have little time forfpeculation, or to embrace a bad fyilem ; to compare Lucretius with Socrates is quite out of their way. It was otherwife with the fenate of Rome, which almoft totally con- filled of Atheifts both in theory and practice, be- lieving neither in a Providence nor a future (late. *- It was a meeting of philofophers, of votaries A" T H E I S M'. $% of pleafurc and ambition; all very dangerous fets of men, and who accordingly overturned die republic. 1 would not willingly lie at the mer- cy of an atheiftical prince, who might think It his intereft to have me pounded in a mortar : I am very certain that would be my fate.^ And were I a fovereign, I would not have about me any atheiftical courtiers, whofe intereft it 'might be to poifonme. So neceiTary is it both for princes and people that their minds be thoroughly imbibed with an idea of a fupreme Being, the Creator;; Avenger, and Re warder. What are the in- ferences from all this ? That Atheifm is a mcfl pernicious monfter in fovereign princes, and like- wife in ftatefmen, however harmlefs their life bei becaufe from their cabinet they can make their way to the former. That if- it be not fo mifchievouS as fanaticifm, it is almoft ever deftrudlive of vir- tue 1 congratulate the prefent age on there being fewer Atheifls now than ever j philofophers having difcovered, that there is no vegetable with- out a germ, no germ without defign, and that corn is not produced by putrefaction. Some unphilofophical geometricians have rejected final caufes : but they are admitted by all real philofo- fophers ; and, to ufe the exprefiion of a known author, a catechifm makes God known to children^ and Newton demonftrates him to the learned. VOLTAIRE: E: 3 ON, 54 ATHEISM. ON THE SAME SUBJECT. / THERE is no man of underflanding who does not acknowledge an active power in nature.. There is, therefore, no Atheift. He is not an Atheift who fays, that motion is God ; becaufe, in fact, motion is incomprehenfible, as we have no clear idea of it, as it does not manifeft itfelf but by its effects j and, laftly, becaufe by it all things are performed in the univerfe. He is not an Atheift who fays, on the contrary, that motion is not God ; becaufe motion is not a be- ing, but a mode of being. They are no Atheifts \vho maintain that motion is efiential to matter, and regard it as the invilible and motive force that ipreads itfelf through all its parts. Do we not fee the ftars continually changing their places, and rolling perpetually round their centre ? do we not fee all bodies deftroyed and reproduced inceflant- ly, under different forms ? in fliort, do we not fee nature in an eternal fermentation and diffolution ? Who then can deny that motion is, like ex- tenfion, inherent in bodies, and that motion is not the caufe of what is ? In fact, fays Mr Hume, if we always give the names of caufe and effect: to the concomitance of two facts, and conclude, that wherever there are bodies there is motion ; we ought then to regard motion as the univerfal foul of matter, and the divinity that alone penetrates its fub- ATHEISM. J /ubftance. But are the philofophers of this laft opinion Atheifls ? No : they equally acknowledge an unknown force in the univerfe. Are even thofe who have no ideas of God Atheifts ? No; becaufe then all men would be fo ; becaufe no one has a clear idea of the Divinity ; becaufe in this cafe every obfcure idea is equal to none; and, laftly, to acknowledge the incomprehenfibility of God, is to fay by a different turn of expre{Iion 3 that we have no idea cf him. HELVE TIUS. ATHEISM AND SUPERSTITION. IF fuperftition, in every degree of it, be found- ed in error, and if it counteract the effects of knowledge and goodnefs, it is a pcfitive and ac- tive evil : Whereas, Atheifm being the effect, merely of ignorance, is rather a misfortune ; and its effects are the harmlefs ones which ufually fol- low upon mere ignorance. The wife and able moraliffc Plutarch faid, it was much better men mould even difbelieve and deny the exiftence of a God, than believe him to be ill-difpofed and of an immoral character. All quibbles which have been brought to obviate the confequences of this proportion ; the appeals to prudence, expedience, and intereft, may do very well in modern politics, and in the fchemes of legiflators and priefts, whofe only aim is to keep the people like cattle in thofe tracks tracks where they may be mod ferviceable to them*, but will be defpifed by every one who apprehends, and judges, and feels like a man. To fee the difference between ignorance and error in all pof- fible cafes, take a child totally unacquainted with truth, and take a good old lady who is, as (he fuppofes, juil going to heaven loaded with points of faith and principles of religion j and you will have proofs as many as you can wilh, as clear and convincing as any mathematical condufions 1 , of the great and important difference between ig- norance and error. Take a favage uncorrupted by European commerce ; take a fimple favage who, in the compafs and variety of his knowledge, is little above a brute ; take a religious favage*, millions of which we may have in Europe ; and in attempting to inftrudl both, we mail have more convincing proofs of the very important difference between ignorance and error. The former we may eafily benefit ; the latter .we feldom or never can. WILLIAMS; THE DISPUTES BETWEEN ATHEISTS AND THEISTS VERBAL. I ASK theTheift, If he does not allow that there is a great and immeafurable, becaufe an incompre- henilble, difference between the human and Di- vine mind ? The more pious he is, the more rea- dily ATHEISM. 57 Av AR i cfe. attention from a misfortune which nobody can or ought to pity. There is a furprifing contra- diction between their conduct and the motives from which they aft. They have an incefTant de- fire of pleafure, and always deprive themfelres of its enjoyment. This kind of avarice derives its fource from an exceffive and ridiculous fear of the poflibility of indigence, and of the many evils with which it is accompanied. The avaricious are like thofe afflicted with an hypochondriac melancholy, who live in perpetual agonies, fee themfelves fui"- rounded with dangers, and are afraid of being crufhed by every one that approaches them. This fpecies of the avaricious we commonly find among thofe who were born in a ftate of indigence, and have themfelves experienced the long train of evils with which it is attended. Their folly is therefore in this refpecl more pardonable than in men born in a ftate of affluence, among whom there are feldom found any of the avaricious, ex- cept the proud or voluptuous. Avarice increafcs in old age, as the habit of accumulating wealth is no longer counterbalanced by the defire of enjoy- ing it, which will be ftrengthened by the mecha- nical fear of want, wherewith old age is frequently accompanied. HELVETIUS, BANKRUPTCY. 6t B. NATIONAL BANKRUPTCY. TT will fcarcely be aflerted, that no bounds ought ever to be fet to national debts ; and that the public would be no weaker, were twelve or fifteen (hillings in the pound, land-tax, mortgaged with the prefent cuftoms and excifes. There is, how- ever, a ftrange fupinenefs from long cuftom creeped into all ranks of men with regard to public debts, not unlike what divines fo Vehe- mently complain of with regard to their religious do&rines. We all own, that the mod fanguine imagination cannot hope either that this or any future miniflry will be pofiefTed of fuch rigid and fteady frugality, as to make a confiderable progrefs in the payment of our debts ; or that the fituation of foreign affairs will, for any long time, al- low them leifure and tranquillity for fuch an un- dertaking. What then if to become of us ? Were we ever fo good Chriftians, and ever fo refigned to Providence, this, methinks, were a curious queftion, even confidered as a fpecuhtive one, and- what it might not be altogether impoflible to form fome conjectural folution of. The events here will depend little upon the contingencies of battles, negociations, intrigues, VOL. I. F and (Z BANKRUPTCY. and factions. There feems to be a natural pro- ^refs in things which may guide our reafoning. As it would have required but a moderate (hare of prudence when we firft began this practice of mortgaging, to have foretold, from the nature of men and of minifters, that things would necef- farily be carried to the length we fee ; fo now, that they have happily reached it, it may not be difficult to guefs at the confequences. It mufl indeed be one of thefe two events ; either the na- tion muft deftroy public credit, or public credit will deftroy the nation. It is impofhble they can both fubiift after the manner they have been hi- therto managed in this as well as in fome otheV countries. It has been computed, that all the creditors of the public, natives and foreigners, amount only to 17000. Thefe make a figure at prefent on their income ; but in cafe of a public bankruptcy, would in an inftant become the lowed, as well as the moft wretched, of the people. The dignity and authority of the landed gentry and nobility is much better rooted, and would render the con- tention very unequal if ever we come to that ex- tremity. One would incline to affign to this event a very near period, fuch as half a century, had not our fathers prophecies of this kind been found fallacious by the duration of our public credit fo much beyond all reafonable expecta- tion. BANKRUPTCY. 63 tioru When the aftrologers in France were every year foretelling the death of Henry IV. " Thefe fellows," fays he, " muft be right at " laft." But, however, it is not altogether im- probable, that, when the nation become heartily lick of their debts, and are cruelly opprefled by them, fome daring projector may arife witli vi- fionary fchemes for their difcharge. And as pub- lic credit will begin by that time to be a little frail, the lead touch will deftroy it, as happened in France during the regency ; and in this man- ner it will die of the defter- But it is more probable that the breach of na- tional faith will be the neceflary eftet of wars, defeats, misfortunes, and public calamities j OP even, perhaps, of viftories and conquefts. Let the time come, and furely it will come, when the new funds, created for the exigences of the year, are not fubfcribed to, and raife not the money projected. Suppofe, either that the cafh of the nation is exhaufted, or that our faith, which has been hitherto fo ample, begins to fail us. Sup- pofe that in this diftrefs the nation is threatened with an invafion ; a rebellion is fufpecled or broken out at home ; a fquadron cannot be equip- ped for want of pay, victuals, or repairs ; or even a foreign fubfidy cannot be advanced. What muft a prince ot minifter do in fuch an emer- gence ? The right of felf-prefervation is unalien- " F * able 64 BANKRUPTCY. able in every individual, much more in every community. And the folly of our ftatefmen muft be greater than the folly of thofe who contracted the debt, or, what is more, than the folly of thofe who trufted or continue to truft this fecuriry, if thefe ftatefmen have the means of fafety in their hands, and do not employ them. The funds created and mortgaged will, by that time, bring in a large yearly revenue, fufEcient for the de- fence and fecurity of the nation. Money is, perhaps, lying in the exchequer, ready for the difcharge of the quarterly intereft : Neceffity calls, fear urges, reafon exhorts, companion alone ex- claims. The money will immediately be feized for the current fervice, under the mod folemn proteftations, perhaps, of being immediately re- placed. But no more is requifite. The whole fabric, already tottering, falls to the ground, and buries thoufands in its ruins. And this is called the natural death of public credit: for to this period it tends as naturally as an animal body to its diflblution and deftruction The public is a debtor whom no man can oblige to pay. The only check which the creditors have on her, is the intereft of prefevving credit j an intereft which may eafily be overbalanced by a great debt, and by a difficult and extraordinary emergence, even fuppofmg that credit irrecoverable. Not to men- tion that a prefent neceffity often forces ftates into E A N K R U P T C T, 6 into mesfures which are, itrictly fpeaking, againft their intereft. Thofe two events fuppofed above are calamitous, but not the mod calamitous. Thoufands are hereby facrificed to the fafety of millions. But we are not without danger, that the contrary event may take place, and that millions may be facrificed for ever to the temporary fafety of thoufands. Our popular government, perhaps, will render it difficult and dangerous for a minifter to venture on fo defperate an expedient as that of a voluntary bankruptcy. And though the Houfe of Lords be altogether compofed of the proprietors of lands, and the Houfe of Commons chiefly, and confequently neither of them can be fuppofed to have great property in the funds j yet the connections of the members may be fo great with the proprietors, as to render them more tenacious of public faith than prudence, policy, or even juftice, ftriclily fpeaking, requires. And perhaps our foreign enemies may be fo politic as to difcover- that our fafety lies in de- fpair, and may not, therefore, fiiow the danger, open and barefaced, till it be inevitable. The balance of power in Europe, our grandfathers, our fathers, and we, have all efteemed too un- equal to be preferved without our attention and* afliftance. But our children, weary with the Ihuggle, and fettered with incumbrances, may. fit F 3 down* $6 BANKRUPTCY. down fecure, and fee their neighbours opprefled and conquered ; till at laft they themfelves and their creditors lie both at the mercy of the con- queror. And this may be demonftrated the vio- lent death of our public credit. Thefe feem to be events which are not very remote, and which reafon forefees as clearly almoft as (he can do any thing that lies in the womb of time. HUME. BEASTS, IS it poffible any one fhould fay, or affirm in writing^ that beads are machines void of know- ledge and fenfe, have a famenefs in all their ope- rations, neither learning nor perfecting any thing, &c. ? How! this bird who makes a femicircular neft when he fixes it againft a wall j who, when in an angle, fliapes it like a quadrant, and circu- lar when he builds it in a tree ; is this having a famenefs in its operations? Does this hound, after three months teaching, know no more than when you firft took him in hand ? Your Canary- bird, does he repeat a tune at firft hearing? or rather, is it not fome time before you can bring him to it ? Is he not often out, and does he not improve by practice ? Is it from my fpeaking that you allow me fenfe, memory, and ideas ? Well; I am filent; but you fee me come home very melancholy, and with eager anxiety look for BEASTS. 6f a paper, open the bureau where I remember to have put it, take it up and read it with apparent joy. You hence infer, that I have felt pain and pleafure, and that I have memory and knowledge. Make then the like inference concerning this dog, who, having loft his mafter, runs about every where -with melancholy yellings, comes home all in ferment, runs up and down, roves from room to room, till at length he finds his beloved mafter in his clofet, and then exprefles his joy in fofter cries, gefticulations and fawnings. This dog, fo very fuperior to man in affettion, is feized by fome barbarian virtuofos, who nail him down on, a table, and diflecl him while living, the better to (how you the meferaic veins. All the fame organs of fenfation which are in yourfelf you perceive in him. Now, machinift, what fay you? Has henerves to be impaflible? For fhame ! charge not nature with fuch weaknefs -and inconfiftency. But the fcholaftic doctors afk what the foul of beafts is ? This is a queftion I do not underftand. A tree has the faculty of receiving fap into its fibres, of circulating it, of unfolding the buds of its leaves and fruits. Do you now afk me what the foul of a tree is ? It has received thefe pro- perties, as the animal above has received thofe of fenfation, memory, and a certain number of ideas.. Who formed all thofe properties, who has im- parted all thefe faculties ? He who caufes the grafs. 63 BEASTS. grafs of the field to grow, and the earth to gravi- tate towards the fun.- The fouls of beafts are fub- ftantial forms, fays Ariftotle, the Arabian fchool, the Angelic fchool, and the Sorbonne. The fouls of beafts are material, cry other philofophersj but as little to the purpofe as the former. When called upon^o define a material foul, they only perplexthe caufe : they mult neceffarily allow it to be fenfi- tive matter. But from whence does it derive this fenfation ? From a material foul ; which muft mean, that it is matter giving fenfation to matter: beyond this circle they have nothing to fay. According to others equally wife, the foul of beafts is a fpiritual eflence dying with the body: but where are your proofs? What idea have you f this fpiritual being, which with its fenfation, memory,, and its mare of ideas and combinations, will never be able to know fo much as a child of lix years ? What grounds have you to think that this incorporeal being dies with the body ? But (lill more ftupid are they who affirm this foul to be neither body nor fpirit. By fpirit we can mean only fome thing unknown, which is not body; the foul of beafts, therefore, accord- ing to this fyftem, is neither body, nor fomething which is not body. Whence can fo many con- tradiclory errors arife ? From a cuftom, which has always prevailed among men, of invefligating the nature of a thing before they knew whether any fuch BEASTS. 69 fuch thing exifted. The fucker or clapper of a bellows is likewife called the foul of the bellows. Well, what is the foul ? It is only a name I have given to that fucker or clapper, which falls down, lets in air, and, rifing again, propels it through a pipe on my working the bellows Here is no foul diftincl: from the machine itfelf ; but who puts the bellows of animals in motion ? I have already told you ; he who puts the heavenly bodies in motion. The philofopher who faid, eft Deus anima brutorum fliould have added, Quod Deus eft anima mundi. VOLTAIRE. BEAUTY AND BEAUTIFUL. ASK a negro of Guinea, What is beauty, the fupremely beautiful, .the *MV? he will anfwer you, A greafy black fkin, hollow eyes, and a flat nofe. Confult the philofophers, they will tell you fome unintelligible jargon for anfwer; they muft have fomething correfpondent to beauty in the abftraft. I once fat next to a philofopher at a tragedy. That is beautiful, faid he ! How beautiful ? laid I. Becaufe the author has attained his end* The next day he took a dofe of phyfic, which had a very good efleh That is a beautiful phyfic, faid I, it has attained its end. He perceived that a 70 BEAUTY. medicine is not to be called beautiful, and that the word beauty is applicable only to thofe things which give a pleafure accompanied with admira- tion : that tragedy, he faid, had excited thefe two fenfations in him, and that was the T<>-xaxov. We went to England together, and happened to be at the fame play, perfectly well tranflated; but the fpettators one and all yawned. He then concluded that beauty is very relative; that what is decent at Japan is indecent at Rome; and what is fafhionable at Paris is ctherwife at Pekin. VOLTAIRE. A COGITATIVE BEING HAS EXISTED FROM ETERNITY. THERE is no truth more evident, than that fomething inuft be from eternity. I never yet heard of any one fo unreafonable, or that could fuppofe fo manifeft a contradiction, as a time wherein there was perfectly nothing : this being of all abfurdities the greateft, to imagine that pure nothing, the perfect negation and abfence of all beings, fhould ever produce any real exiftence. If then there muft be fomething eternal, let us fee what fort of being it muft be. And to that, it is very obvious to reafon, that it muft necefla- rily be a cogitative being. For it is as impoflible to conceive, that ever bare incogitative matter fhould BEING. 71 fhould produce a thinking intelligent being, as that nothing fhould of itfelf produce matter. Let us fuppofe any parcel of matter eternal, great or fmall, we fhall find it, in itfelf, able to produce nothing. For example, let us fup- pofe the matter of the next pebble we meet with to be eternal, clofely united, and the parts firmly at reft together ; if there were no other being in the world, muft it not eternally remain fo, a dead inactive lump ? Is it poflible to conceive it can add motion to itfelf, being purely matter, or produce any thing ? Matter, then, by its own ftrength, cannot produce in itfelf fo much as motion : the motion it has muft alfo be from eternity or elfe be produced and added to mat- ter by fome other being more powerful than mat- ter } matter, as is evident, having not power to produce motion in itfelf. But let us fuppofe mo- tion eternal too ; yet matter, incogitative matter and motion, whatever changes it might produce of figure and bulk, could never produce thought : knowledge will ftill be as far beyond the power of motion and matter to produce, as matter is be- yond the power of nothing or nonentity to pro- duce. And I appeal to every one's own thoughts, whether he cannot as eafily perceive matter pro- duced by nothing, as thought to be produced by pure matter, when before there was no fuch thing as thought, or an intelligent being exifting? Divide 72 BEING. Divide matter into as minute parts as you will (which we are apt to imagine a fort of fpirituali- zing or making a thinking thing of it), vary the figure and motion of it as much as you pleafe; a globe, cube, cone, prifm, cylinder, &c. whofe diameters are but loooocoth part of a gry, will operate no otherwife upon other bodies of pro- portionable bulk than thofe of an inch or foot diameter; and you may as rationally expecl to produce fenfe, thought, and knowledge, by put- ting together, in a certain figure and motion, grofs particles of matter, as by thofe that are the very minuteft that do any where exift. They knock, impel, and refift one another juft as the greater do, and that is all they can do. So that if we will fuppofe nothing firft or eternal, mat- ter can never begin to be : if we fuppofe bare matter without motion eternal, motion can never begin to be : if we fuppofe only matter and motion firft or eternal, thought can never begin to be. For it is impoffible to conceive matter, either with or without motion, could have originally in and from itfelf fenfe, perception, and knowledge ; as is evident from hence, that then fenfe, per- ception, and knowledge, muft be a property eter- nally infeparable from matter and every particle of it. Not to add, that though our general or fpecific conception of matter makes us fpeak of it as one thing, yet really all matter is not one i in- BEAUTY. 73 individual thing, neither is there any fuch thing exifting as one material being, or one fingle body that we know or can conceive. And therefore, if matter were the eternal firft cogitative being, there would not be one eternal infinite cogitative being, but an infinite number of eternal finite cogitative beings, independent one of another, of limited force and diftindt thoughts, which could never produce that order, harmony and beauty, which are to be found in nature. Since therefore whatfoever is the firft eternal being, muft neceflarily be cogitative; and whatfoever is firft of all things, muft neceflarily contain in it, and actually have, at leaft, all the perfections that can ever after exift j nor can it ever give to another any perfection that it hath not, ekher actually in itfelf, or at leaft in a higher degree ; it neceflarily follows, .that the firft eternal being cannot be matter. If therefore it be evident, that fomething necefiarily muft exift from eternity, it is alfo as evident, that that fomething muft necef- farily be a cogitative being : for it- is as impof- fible that incogitative matter fhould produce a co- gitative being, as that nothing, or the negation of all beings, fhould produce a pofitive being or matter. LOCKE. VOL. L G * BE- *4 BELIE F. BELIEF. WE believe a thing, becaufe we fee it, we per- ceive it, or underftand it. It is not poffible for our belief to go further. The credit we give to the teftimoney of another, is quite a different principle from the perfuafion of our own mind ; and has been confounded with it only to ferve the purpofes of artful men in impofing on the ignorant. The art of believing what is above our comprehenfion and reafon, and not contrary to it, is a fophifm, with the advantage of a jingle upon words, invented for the fame purpofes. There is jufl as much good fenfe and truth and poflibility of believing what is above our under- ftanding, as in feeing what is beyond our fight, hearing what is out of hearing, or feeling what is totally out of reach. We cannot in truth be faid to believe further than we underftand. Thofe who pretend to Tee myfteries, and to believe them, talk idly ; for no man ever did, or ever could, be- lieve a myftery, any more than he could fee what was tranfacled in any invifible world. The com- plaifance and deference to authority, by which men are led to pretend to believe, is like the fer- vility of thofe who, though their eyes are imper- feft and faulty, always fee as we do, or hear as we hear. This being the cafe, it is not cafy im- mediately to underftand why men fhould ever have BELIEF. 75 have been blamed or punifhed becaufe they could not believe. Believing is an act of the mind, upon confidering a fact or propofition j as feeing is an act in confequence of turning the eye on an object. Men are influenced in both thefe actions exactly alike; by the itrength and good- ncfs of their natural organs ; by their fitua- tion and point of view in which they con- fider things. Every object, every fait, and every principle, may appear, in fome circumftances, different to different perfons. Why then, if we punifh a man for not difcerning truths as we difcern them, do we not punifh him for not fee- ing as we fee ? There is no diftinction between thefe cafes, which is founded in truth and com- mon fenfe ; but there is, in the artifices of policy and the wiles of prieftcraft. If men be taken early enough, they may be induced to give up the faculties of their minds ; but they muft ufe their bodily fenfes. It has been faid, that a right faith is the confequence of being well and pro- perly difpofed. It is very true, that a man may difpofe himfelf ; i. e. he may warp and bias his mind fo as to make any doctrine or principle fuit it : But all kinds of prcdifpofition and pre- arrangement are injuries to the judgment ; and it would be as difficult for the mind to determine fairly on a fact or the truth of a principle, when it was fo predifpofed, as it would be for a judge G 2 to 76 BELIEF. to determine fairly in a caufe, on one fide of which he was bribed. Our faith is meritorious only as it is a proof that we ufe our intellectual faculties in the purfuit of truth ; juft as feeing is a proof that we ufe our eyes, or hearing that we ufe our ears. And the common infolence, rage, and cruelty of zealots, on account of faith, is owing to their extreme ignorance, or extreme wickednefs ; for they in 'faft muft have the leaft real faith of all mankind. They have taken every thing for grant- ed, without examination or judgment; and have confequently nothing which they truly believe. Their faith is the faith of devils : they believe and tremble under an almighty power which they dread : they believe every thing which is enjoined them, from a fear of damnation ; and have no principle, but what may be common to them with all the evil fpirits in the univerfe. "WILLIAMS. Ox THE SAME SUBJECT. BELIEF, according to fome philofophers, is in- dependent of our interelt. Thcfe philofophers are right or wrong according to the idea they attached to the word Belief. If they mean by it a clear idea of the matter believed; and that they can, like the geometricians, demonitratc the truth of it; it is certain that no error is believed, that none will BELIEF* y-^ will fland the examen, that we form no clear idea of it, and that in this fenfe there are few believers. But if we take the word in the com- mon acceptation, and mean by a believer an adorer of the bull Apis ; if the man who, with- out having a clear idea of what he believes, be- lieves by imitation, who, fo to fay, believes he believes, and maintains the truth of his belief at the hazard of his life; in this fenfe there are many believers. The Catholic church boafts ccn- tinuajly of its martyrs ; but I know not where- fore. Every religion has its own. " He that pre- " tends to a revelation ought to die in the main- " tenance of what he aflerts'; that is the only proof " he can give of its truth." It is not fo with the philofopher: his propofitions muft be fupported by fats and reafonings : whether he die or not in the maintenance of his doctrine, is of little im- portance : his death woul-d prove only that he was obftinately attached to his opinion ; not that it was true. As for the reft, the belief of fana- tics, always founded on imaginary, but power- ful intereft in heavenly rewards, constantly im- pofes on the vulgar j and it is to thofe fanatics that we muft attribute the eftablifhment of almoit all general opinions. HELVETIUS. G 3 ON ^8 BELIEF. ON THE SAME SUBJECT. NOTHING is more free than the imagination of man ; and though it cannot exceed that origi- nal flock of ideas furnifhed by the internal and external fenfes, it has unlimited power of mixing, compounding, feparating, and dividing thefe ideas, to all the varieties of fidlion and vilion. It can feign a train of events with all the appearance of reality, afcribe to them a particular time and place, conceive them as exiftent, and paint them out to itfelf with every circurnflance that belongs to any hiftorical fat which it believes with the greateft certainty. Wherein, therefore, confifts the difference between fuch a ficlion and belief ? It lies not merely in any peculiar idea, which is annexed to fuch a conception as commands our aflent, and which is refufed to every known fiction. For as the mind has authority over all its ideas, it could voluntarily annex this particular idea to any fidlion, and confequently be able to> believe whatever it pleafes ; contrary to what we find by daily experience. We can, in our conception, join the head of a 'man to the body of a horfe ; but it is not in our power to believe that fuch an animal has ever really exifted It follows, there- fore, that the difference between fitlion and be- lief lies in fome fentiment or feeling which is annexed to the latter, not to the former, and which BELIEF. 79 which depends not on the will, nor ean be com- manded at pleafure. It muft be excited by na* ture, like all other fentiments ; and muft arife from the particular fituation in which the mind is placed at any particular juncture. Whenever any object is prefented to the memory or fenfes,. it immediately, by the force ef cuftom, carries the imagination to conceive the object which is ufually conjoined to it ; and this conception is at- tended with a feeling or fentiment different from the loofe reveries of the fancy. In this confifts the whole nature of belief. For as there is no matter of fact which we believe fo firmly that we cannot conceive the contrary, there would be no difference between the conception aflented to, and that which is rejected, were it not for fome fentiment which diftinguifhes tfce one from the other. If I fee a billiard-ball moving towards another on a fmooth table, I can eafily conceive it to flop upon contact. This conception implies no contradiction; but ftill it feels very differently from that conception by which I reprefcnt to myfelf the impulfe and the communication of motion from one ball to another. Were we to attempt a definition of this fentiment, we mould, perhaps, find it a very difficult, if not an impoffible tafk -, in the fame manner as if we mould endea- vour to define the feeling of cold, or paflion of anger, to a, creature who never had an experience of go BELIEF. of thefe fentiments. Belief is the true and proper name of this feeling ; and no one is ever at a lofs to know the meaning of that term; becaufe every man is every moment confcious of the fentiment reprefented by it. It may not, however, be im- proper to attempt a defcription of this fentiment ; in hopes we may, by that means, arrive at fomc analogies which may afford a perfect explication of it. I fay then, that belief is nothing but a more vivid, lively, forcible, iteady conception of an object, than what the imagination aione is ever able to attain. This variety of terms, which may feem fo unphilofophical, is intended only to exprefs that at of the mind which renders reali- ties, or what is taken for fuch, more prefent to us than fictions, caufes them to weigh more in the thought, and gives them a fuperior influence to the pafiions and imagination. Provided we agree about the thing, it is needlefs to difpute about the terms. The imagination has the com- mand over all the ideas, and can join and mix and vary them in all the ways poffible. It may con- ceive fictitious objects with all the circumftames of place and time ; it may fet them in a manner before our eyes in their true colours, juft as as they might have exifted : but as it is impoflible that this faculty of imagination can ever of itfelf reach Belief^ which is a term that every one fufficiently underftands in common life ; and in phi- B E L I E !. 8 1 philofophy, we can go no farther than affert, that belief is fomething felt by the mind, which diftinguifb.es the ideas of judgment from the fic- tions of the imagination ; it gives them more weight and influence ; makes them appear of greater importance; enforces them in the mind; and renders them the governing principle of our actions. I hear at prefent, for inftance, a per- fbn's voice with whom I am acquainted ; and the found comes as from the next room. This imprcfllon of my fenfes immediately conveys my thought to the perfon, together with all the fur- rounding objects. I paint them out to myfelf as exifling at prefent with the fame qualities and re- lations of which I formerly knew them poflefled. Thefe ideas take falter hold of my mind than ideas of an inchanted caftle. They are very different to the feeling, and have a much greater influence of every kind, either to give pleafure or pain, joy or forrow. The fentiment, therefore, of belief is nothing but a conception more intenfe and fteady than what attends the mere fictions of the imagination; and this- manner of concep- tion arifes from a cuftomary conjunction of the object with fomething prefent to the memory or fenfes* THE BELIEF. THE BELIEF OR DISBELIEF Of any Religion can neither be a virtue nor a Crime in any one njing the bejl Means in his Po-werfor Information. IF we take a furvey of that variety of fefts which are fcattered over the face of the earth, and who mutually accufe each other of falfehood and error, and afk which is the right ; every one of them in their turns will anfwer theirs; we know our feel: is in the right, becaufe God hath declared fo. " All " of them," fays Charron, " pretend that they de- " rive their doctrine, not from men, nor from any " created being, but from God. But to fay truth, " without flattery or difguife, there is nothing " in fuch pretenfions : however they may talk, " they owe their religion to human means ; wit- " nefs the manner in which they firft adopt it. " The nation, country, and place where they are " born and bred, determine it. Are we not cir- " cumcifed or baptized, made Jews, Turks, or " Chriftians, before we are men ?" Our religion is not the effect of choice, but of accident ; and to impute it to us, is unjuft : it is to reward or punifh us for being born in this or that country. If the method taken by him who is in the right, and by him who is in the wrong, be the fame; what L I E F. 83 what merit or dement hath the one more than the other ? Now, either all religions are good, and agreeable to God ; or if there be one which he hath dictated to man, and will punifli him for re- jecting, he h.:i:h certainly diftinguimed it by ma- nifeft figns and tokens as the only true one. Thefe are common to all times and places, and are equally obvious to all mankind. If natural religion be in- fufficient, it i < owing to the obfcurity in which it neceflarily leaves thofe fublime truths it profefies to teach. It is the bufmefs of revelation to exhi- bit them to the mind in a more clear and fenfible manner, to adapt them to the underftandings of men, in order that they may be capable of believing them. True faith is aflured and confirmed by the underffcanding ; and the beft of all religions is un- doubtedly the cleared. If there -be only one reli- gion in the world which can prevent our fuffering eternal damnation, and enfure our title to future happinefs; and there be on any part of the earth a fingle mortal who is fincere, and is not convinced f its evidence; the God of that religion muft be a cruel tyrant. Would we feek the truth therefore in fincerity, we muft lay no ftrefs on the place and circumftances of our birth, nor on the authority of fathers or teachers; but appeal to the dictates of reafon and conscience concerning every thing taught us in our youth. It is to no purpofe to bid me fubjeft my reafon to the truth of things of which 84 BENEFICENCE. which it is incapacitated to judge ; the man who would impofe on me a falfehood, may bid me do the fame. It is neceflary therefore I mould em- ploy my reafon even to know when I ought to fubrait. ROUSSEAU. BENEFICENCE. THE proper exercife of wifdom, and the right ufe of riches, are not yet fubjedt to legal regula- tions i and all the pleafing duties of beneficence are in our hands. We fhall defervedly forfeit this privilege if we abufe it ; or if we make the diftinc- tion we are favoured with in fociety, the occafion of mifchief and injury to it. If the labourer thinks himfelf obliged by his wants, by his connections with his wife and children, and by the fear of bo- dily punifhment, not only to refrain from theft and injuftice, but to work hard, and to exercife his prudence and understanding to make his fa- aiily happy ; what muft be the obligations of the rich and wife, if they can not only fave their friends and connections from wants and diftrefles, but extend their hands to numbers around them, and afiift thofe who are not fo happy ? Is there any comparifon between the neceffity and obligation of thefe duties ? Thofe who would fay the former is a duty, becaufe the poor man can- not avoid it j and the latter is not a duty, becaufe 3 the BENEFICENCE. $ the wife and rich may avoid it, do not underftand the meaning of moral obligation. The wretch who can avoid it, be his talents and rank what they may, does not deferve the name of man. Every man's abfolute obligations and duties in- creafe in proportion to his wifdom, power, and wealth ; and all omiffions in expreflions of bene- volence, are as criminal and injurious to the world as fraud, theft, or any other villany. WILLIAMS. BENEFICENCE AND GRATITUDE. THERE is a kind of contract, and the ftrongefl of all contracts, between the benefactor and the obliged. It is a fort of fociety they form between each other, ftricter than that which in general unites men ; and when the obliged tacitly engages himfelf to gratitude, the benefactor likewife is equally engaged to the other to preferve, fo long as he does not render himfelf unworthy, the fame attentions he has already experienced, and to re- new his proofs of it every time it is required, or that he has it in his power. Thofe are not the exprefs conditions, but they are the natural effects of the relations they have fettled between them. He who for the firft time refufes a gratuitous fer- vice afked, gives no right of complaint to him he has refufed j but he who in a like cafe equally VOL. I. H f TC- 86 B I G T R T. refufes the fame favour he had granted before, crofies a hope he had authorifed to be conceived, he deceives and baulks the expectation he created. We feel in the refufal fomething of I don't know tow unjuft and more cruel than in the other ; but it is not lefs the effet of an independence the heart is fond of, and which it cannot renounce without effort. If .1 pay a debt, it is a duty I owe : if I beftow a gift, it is a pleafure I procure myfelf. Thus the pleafure of doing our duty is of thofe virtue gives birth to ; thofe which proceed im- mediately from nature are not fo elevated. ROUSSEAU. RELIGIOUS BIGOTRY. A VIOLENT contention about external forms and ceremonies of religion, is an indication of ignorance, fuperftition, and barbarity. It was car- ried to excefs in fome of the darker ages of the church ; and has always been the charadleriflic of abfurd and illiterate feftaries : But as men have become better acquainted with the Scriptures, and the fpirit and genius of Chriftianity; as they have improved in liberal arts and fciences, in politenefs, and a knowledge of the world ; they have like- wife become more candid and moderate in their religious controverfies, and the perfecution of re- puted heretics. It is indeed painful to every hu- mane BLACKNESS. tj mane and benevolent fpeftator, to fee men furi- oufly abufirig and perfecutingone another for fome trifling difference in their drefs, their forms of de- votion, their canonical ceremonies, and their the- ological fpeculations, without the lead regard for the moft facred obligations of Chriftianity. When- ever therefore we fee a man of this temper, that is, an angry bigot, we can entertain no favourable opinion of his head and heart. THE EFFECTS OF BLACKNESS. BLACKNESS isbut a. partial darknefs,- and there- fore it derives fome of its powers from being mixed and furrounded with coloured bodies. In its own nature it cannot be confidered as a colour. B'ack bodies, reflecting none, or but a few rays, with re* gard to fight, are but fo many vacant fpaces dii- perfed among the objects] we view. When the eye lights on one of thefe vacuities, after having been kept in fome degree of tenfion by the play of the adjacent colours upon it, it fuddenly falls into a relaxation, out of which it as fuddenly recovers by a convulfive fpring. To illuftrate this; let us confider, that when we intend to fit in a chair, and find it much lower than we expected, the Ihock is very violent , much more violent than could be thought from fo flight a fall as the difference be- H 2 tween 88 BLACKNESS. tween one chair and another can poiTibly make. If, after defcending a flight of fteps, we attempt inadvertently, to take another ftep in the manner of the former ones, the mock is extremely rude and difagreeable ; and by no art can we caufe iuch a (hock by the fame means, when we expect and prepare for it. This is owing to the change being made contrary to expectation, not fole- ly when the mind expel?> but likewife when, any organ of fenfe is for fome time affected in fome one manner, if it be fuddenly affected otherwife, there enfues a convulfive motion ; fuch a convulfion as is caufed when any thing happens againft the expectance of the mind. And though it may appear ftrange that fuch a change as pro- duces a relaxation, fhould immediately produce a fudden convulfion ; it is yet moft certainly fo, and fo in all the fenfes. Every one knows that fleep is a relaxation ; and that filence, where nothing keeps the organs of hearing in action, is in general fittefl to bring on this relaxation : yet when a fort of murmuring founds difpofe a man to fleep, let thefe founds ceafe fuddenly, and the perfon im* mediately awakes ; that is, the parts are braced, up fuddenly, and he awakes. In like manner, if a perfon in broad day-light were falling afleep, to introduce a fudden darknefs would prevent his fleep for that time, though filence and darknefs in themfelves, and not fuddenly introduced, are very, fa- BLACKNESS- 89 favourable to it. From experience we alfo learn, that on the firft inclining towards fleep, we have been fuddenly awakened with a moft violent ftart ; and that this ftart was generally preceded by a fort of dream of our falling down a precipice. Whence does this ftrange notion arife, but from the too fudden relaxation of the body, which by fome mechanifm in nature reftores itfelf by as quick and vigourou t s an exertion of the contracting power of the mufcles ? The dream itfelf is caufed by this relaxation j and it is of too uniform a nature to be attributed to any other caufe : the parts re- lax too fuddenly, which is in the nature of falling, and this accident in the body induces this image in the mind. When we are in a confirmed ftate of health and vigour, as all changes are lefs fudden. then, and lefs on the extreme, we can feldom com" plain of this difagreeable fenfation. Though the effects of black be painful origi- nally, we muft not think they always continue fo Cuftom reconciles us to every thing. After we have been ufed to the fight of black objects, the terror abates, and the fmoothnefs and gloffinefs, or fome agreeable accident of bodies fo coloured, foftens in fome meafure the horror and fternnefs of their original nature -, yet the nature of the original impreffion ftill continues. Black will al- ways have fomething melancholy in it, becaufe the fenfory wiiL always find the change to it from H 3 other jo CALVINISTIC DIVINITY. other colours too violent ; or if it occuppy the whole compafs of the fight, it will then be dark- jjefs, and the efftls of darknefs applicable to it. BURKE, C, OLVINISTIC DIVINITY. C. CALVINISTIC DIVINITY "1T7HAT ftrange ideas, fays he, would an Indian or a Chinefe philofopher have of our holy re- ligion, if they judged by the fchemes given of it by our modern free-thinkers, and Pharifaical doctors of all feels ? According to the odious and too vul- gar fyftems of thefe incredulous fcoffers, and cre- dulous fcriblers, the God of the Jews is a moft cruel, unjuft, partial, and fantaftical being. He created about 6000 years ago a man and a wo- man, and placed them in a fine garden in Afia, of which there are no remains. This garden was furniftied with all forts of trees, fountains, and flowers. He allowed them the ufe of all the fruits of this beautiful garden execept of one, that was planted in the midft thereof, and that had in it a fecret virtue of preferving them in continual- health, and vigour of body and mind, of exalting their natural powers, and making them wife. The devil entered into the body of a ferpent, and folicited the faft woman to eat of this forbidden fruit ; 92 CALVINISTIC DIVINITY. fruit ; {lie engaged her hufband to do, the fame. To punifli this flight curiofity and natural defire of life and knowledge, God not only threw our firfl parents out of Paradife, but he condemned all their pofterity to temporal mifery, and the great- eft part of them to eternal pains, though the fouls of thefe innocent children have no more relation to that of Adam than to thofe of Nero and Ma- homet; fmce, according to the fcholaflic drivel- lers, fabulifts, and mythologifts, all fouls are cre- ated pure, and infufed immediately into mortal bodies as foon as the fcetus is formed. To ac- complifh the barbarous partial decree of prede- ftination and reprobation, God abandoned all na- tions to darknefs, idolatry, and fuperftition, with- out any faving knowledge or falutary graces ; unlefs it was one particular nation, whom he chofe as his peculiar people. This chofen nation was, however, the moft ftupid, ungrateful, rebellious, and perfidious of all nations. After God had thus kept the far greater part of all the human fpecies, during near 4000 years, in a reprobate ftate, he changed all of a fudden, and took a fancy for other nations befide the Jews. Then he fent his only begotten Son to the world, under a human forir^ to appeafe his wrath, fatisfy his vindictive juftice, and die for the pardon of fin. Very few nations, however, have heard of this gofpel ; and all the reft, though left in invincible ignorance, are damned CALVINISTIC DIVINITY. 93 aamned without exception or any poflibility of remiflion. The greateft part of thofe who have heard of it, have changed only fome fpeculative notions about God, and fome external forms in worfhip : for in all other refpecls the bulk of Chriflians have continued as corrupt as the reft of mankind in their morals ; yea, fo much the more perverfe and criminal as their lights were greater. Unlefs it be a very fmall felecl: number, all other Chriftians, like the Pagans, will be for ever damned ; the great facrifice offered up for them will become void and of no,effec"l; God will take delight for ever in their torments and Blaf- phemies ; and though he can by onejiat change their hearts, yet they will remain for ever uncon- verted and unconvertible, becaufe he will be for ever unappeafed and irreconcilable. It is true, that all this makes God odious ; a hater of fouls, rather than a lover of them ; a cruel vindictive tyrant, an impotent or a wrathful demon, rather than an all- powerful, beneficent father of fpirits : yet all this is a myftery. He has fecret reafons for his con- duct that are impenetrable; and though he ap- pears unjuft and barbarous, yet we muft believe the contrary, becaufe what is injuflice, crime, cruelty, and the blackeft malice in us, is in him juftice, mercy, and fovereign goodnefs. Thus the incredulous free-thinkers, the Judaizing Chrifli- ans, and the. fataliftic doctors, have disfigured and. $4 CAUSE AND EFFECT. and difhonoured the fublime myfteries of our holy faith j thus they have confounded the nature of good and evil, transformed the moft monftrous paffions into divine attributes, and furpafled the Pagans in blafphemy, by afcribing to the Eter- nal Nature, as perfections, what makes the moil horrid crimes amongft men. The grofler Pagans contented themfelves v/5th divinizing luft, irt- ceft, and adultery; but the predeftinarian doclors have divinized cruelty, wrath, fury, vengeance, and all the blackeft vices. Chevalier RAMSAY'S Phihfipbica! Prin- t/ f su*' X ciples cf Natural and Revealed Reli- CAUSE AND EFFECT IN the notice that our fenfes take of the con- ftant viciflitude of things, we cannot but obferve that feveral particulars, both qualities and fub- ftances, begin to exift ; and that they receive this their exiftence from the due application and operation of fome other being. From this ob- fervation we get our ideas of caufe and effeft. That which produces any fimple or complex idea, we denote by the general name Caufe ,- and that which is produced, Effeft. Thus finding, that, in that fubftance which we call wax, fluidity, (which is CAUSE AN T D EFFECT. 9- is a fimple idea, that was not in it before), is con- ftandy produced by the application of a certain degree of heat, we call the fimple idea of heat, in relation to fluidity in wax, the caufe of it, and fluidity the effect. So always finding, that the fubftance, wood, which is a certain collection of fimple ideas fo called, by the application of fire, is turned into another fubftance called afhes, /. e. another complex idea, confifting' of a collection of fimple ideas quite different from that complex idea which we call wood j we confider fire in re- lation to aflies as caufe, and the afhes as effect. So that whatever is confidered by us to conduce or operate to the producing any particular fimple idea, of collection of fimple ideas, whether fub- ilance or mode, which did not before exift, hath thereby in our minds the relation of a caufe, and is fo denominated by us. LOCKE. THE EXISTENCE OF A FIRST CAUSE. LIBERTY, as it is underftood by many fchool- tnen, is in fact an abfurd chimera. If they will pay the leaft attention to reafon, and not be fatis- fied with mere words, it will be evident, that whatever exifts, or is feif-created, is necefiary } for if it was not neceflary, it would be ufelefs. The f6 CAUSE. The refpeftable fet of Stoics thought fo ; and, what is very fmgular, this truth may be found in a hundred places. of Homer, who makes Jupi- ter fubmit to fate. There exifts a fomething, which muft be eter- nal, as is demonftrated; otherwife we mould have an effect without a caufe. Thus all the ancients, without a fingle exception, believed mat- ter to be eternal, It is not the fame of immenfity, nor of an almighty power. I cannot fee the neceffity of all fpace being filled; and I do not comprehend the reafoning of Clarke, who fays, that whatever neceffarily exijls in cne place^ ought neceffarily to exift in every place. Wherefore is it impoffible that there mould be more than a determined quantity of beings ? I can much eafier conceive a bounded nature, than an infinite nature. Upon this article I can only have probabilities, and I can only fubmit to the ftrongeft. By the univerfal agreement in every thing which I know of nature, I 'perceive a defign: this defign mows that there muft be a firfl caufe ; that caufe is undoubtedly very powerful ; but fimple philofo- phy does not teach me to believe that this great artift is infinitely powerful. A houfe forty feet high proves to me that there muft have been an architect ; but reafon alone cannot convince me that this architect -could build a houfe ten thou- 2 fand CAUSE. 97 fand leagues high. Perhaps his powers did not admit of his building one more than forty feet high. My reafon alone does not tell me, that in the immenfity of fpace there is but one architect; and if a man was to allege that there were a great .many fimilar architects, I do not fee how I could convince him of the contrary. VOLTAIRE. THE MYSTERIES OF CERES ELEUSINA. IN the chaos of popular fuperftition, which would have made almoft the whole globe one vaft den of ferocious animals, there was a falutary inftitution, which prevented one part of the human fpecies from degenerating into an entire ftate of brutality : this confided of myfteries and expiations. Philofophers endeavoured to bring men back to reafon and morality. Thofe fages made ufe of fuperftition itfelf to correct its enor- mous abufes. The myfteries of Zoroafter are no longer known : we know but little of thofe of Ifis: but \ve cannot doubt that -they foretold the grand fy- ftem of a future ftate ; for Celfus fays to Origines, book 8. " You boaft cf believing in eternal pit- l( nifbments; and did not all the my/Heal minijlers " preach them to their initiated f" VOL. I, f I God's 98 CERES ELEPSINI. God's unity was the principal dogma of all the myftcries. Apuleius has preferred for us the prayer of the prieftefles of Ifis : " The cele/lial tf powers ferve tbce ; the Infernal regions arefnb- tf mltted to thee ; the univerfe revolves in thine " band; thy feet trample upon Tartarus ; the * ( planets anfiver to thy voice ; \thffeafons return ," to thy order ; the elements obey thee." The myftical ceremonies of Ceres were in imi- tation of thofe of Ifis. Thofe who had committed crimes, confefled them and expiated them ; they faded, purified tliemfelves, and gave alms. All the ceremonies were held facred by folemn oaths to make them more venerated. The myfteries were celebrated at night; certain fpeeies of tra- gedies were reprefented to defcribe the happincfs of the juft, and the punifhments of the wicked. Some very learned men have proved, that the fixth book of the ^Eneid is only a picture of what was praclifed in thofe fecret and famous reprefentations. The myfteries of Eleufina be- came the moft celebrated. One very remarkable thing is, that they read the beginning of the theogony of Sanchoniathon die Phoenician. This js a proof that Sanchoniathon had preached one fupreme God, creator and governor of the world. It was then that this doclrine was unveiled to the initiated, inftrucVed in the belief of Polytheifm. Thofe who participated of the myfteries aflem- bled CERES ELEUSINA. 99 bled in the temple of Ceres; and the Hierophanta taught them, that inftead of adoring Ceres, lead- ing Triptolemus upon a car drawn by dragons, they.fhould adore that God who nourifhed men, and permitted Ceres and Triptolemus to rendej; agriculture fo honourable. This is true, that the Hierophanta began by reciting the ancient verfes of Orpheus. Walk in the path of jnftice ; adore the fo!e mafter of the vniverfe ; he is one, he is Ji/ig/y by himfelf ; i-j h:m all beings owe their cxijlence ; he a5is in them, and bj them ; he fees all, and never luas feen by mortal eyes. The greateft difcretion was neceflary, not to Jhock the prejudices of the multitude. Bifliop Warburton obferves after Plutarch, that the young Alcibiades having aflifted at thefe myfteries, in- fulted the ftatues of Mercury in a party of plca- fure, and that the people in their rage infilled upon Alcibiades's being condemned. Alexander himfelf having obtained leave in Egypt of the Hierophanta of the myfteries, to acquaint his jTiOther with die fecrets of the initiated, at the fame time conjured her to burn his letter after reading it, that (he might not irritate the Greeks. Thofe who have imagined that die myfteries were only infamous debauches, ought to be unde- ceived by the word which anfwers to initiated; it that they entered on a new life. Not I 2 that too CERES ELEUSINA. that It is to be doubted that in all thefe myfteries, the ground work of which was fo fenfible and ufeful, many cenfurable fuperflitions were intro- duced. Superflition led to debauchery, which brought on contempt. But it indubitably appears, that the primary in- tention of thefe myfteries was to infpire virtue, from the fet form with which the aflembly was dif- mifled. Amongft the Greeks, the two ancient Phoenician words, koff omphst, " watch and be <( pure" were pronounced. We may produce an additional proof, that the emperor Nero, who W.H guilty of his mother's death, could not be admitted to thefe myfteries when he travelled in Greece : die crime was too enormous; and as great an em- peror as he was, the initiated would not receive him amongft them. Zozimus alfo fays, that Conftantine could find no Pagan priefts who would purify him or abfolve him of parricide. According to Tertullian, the ceremony of re- generation was very ridiculous. It was neceffary that the initiated mould feem to be reborn : this was the fymbol of the new kind of life he was to embrace. He was prefented with a crown, and he trampled upon it. The Hierophanta held the facred knife over his head; the initiated, who feigned to be ftruck with it, fell as if he were dead; after which he appeared to regenerate. There was (arnidft all the fhameful cuftoms, trifling CERES ELEUSINA. 10^ trifling ceremonies, and ridiculous doctrines, which the people and pricfts followed in honour of fome imaginary gods, who were defpifed and deteited by the fages) a pure religion, which con- fided in acknowledging the existence of a fu- prenie God, his providence and juftice. VOLTAIRE* ON THE SAME SUBJECT, THE myfteries of Elcufis were celebrated twice a-year, at feed-time and harveft ; and the feftival continued nine days. Each day had its peculiar ceremonies. The^r/? was confecrated to the pre- liminaries of the fcftival. On d\z.fecond y the ini- tiated or my floe went in a kind of proceffion to the fca, where refervoirs of falt-water, iacred to Ceres and Proferpine, were fet apart for their purifica- tion. The /AjWwas pafled in fading, affliction, and myfterious lamentations, which reprefented the complaints and groans of Ceres and Profer- pine : though fomething not of the affilEling kind feems to have been alfo reprefented by the myflic beds furrounded with bands of purple, which were employed to convey an idea of the fituation of Proferpine on her arrival in the infernal regions. The fifth was fet apart for a facrifice, in which the greateft care was obferved to avoid touching the genitals of the victim ; and the offering was I ac- 1O2 CERES ELEI/SINA. x accompanied with myftic dances in a meadow enamelled with flowers, about the fpring of Calli- chorns. Thejixth day was diftinguifhed by the proceflson of torches, of which there is a repre- fentation ftill to be feen on a baffo-relievo dif- covered by Span and Wheler. In this proceflion, the initiated marched two by two, with a folemn pace, in deep filence, to the Eleufmian temple of Ceres, and were fuppofed to be purified by the odour which exhaled from the torches. The young lacchus, reprefented with a myrtle crown and a torch in his hand, was carried in pomp from the Ceramicus to Eleujis. The myftical van, which was an emblem of the feparation of the initiated from the prapharit t the catathus, a branch of laurel, a kind of wheel, and the phallus, follow- ed the beautiful marble ftatue of the god, and the cries of To Bacche were loudly repeated during the procemon : lacchus was invited to take a part in the dances and pleafures of the day, and to be an interceflbr with Ceres in favour of the Athenians. In their hymns and invocations, they befeeched the goddefs to procure for thofe who were ad- mitted to the myfteries, an abundance of diver- fions and dancing, to grant them the talents of wit and pleafantry, and the power of furpaffing others in jokes and farcafms. The inhabitants of the adjacent places came in crowds to fee this holy troop ; which, on its arrival at the bridge of the CERES ELELSINA. 103 the CephifiiS) they faluted with volleys of fatirical witticifms and buffooneries, which the initiated anfwered in the fame ftyle, and retorted with the fame fpirit. Thofe among the initiated, who gained the victory in this lin^ular conflict, were here applauded and adorned with fillets of purple. The eighth day was employed in a repetition of the initiation, which was originally occafioned by a particular mark of refpect paid to JEfcula- pius, who having come to Eleufis to be initiated after the ceremony was over, was favoured with a repetition of the myfteries. This repetition be- came a conftant practice. The ninth and laft day feems to have been diftinguifhed by no other ceremony than the filling of two vafes with water, and pouring out the contents of the one towards the eaft, and of the other towards the weft, and pronouncing, during this act, feveral myfterious words and phrafes, with their eyes alternately turned to the heavens and the earthy confidered as the common father and mother of all beings. It feems that this ceremony was rather of a dole- ful and melancholy complexion, and that the liba- tions ufual in the celebration of funeral rites, were employed in this concluding day of the Eleufinian myfteries. The fecret of thefe myfteries feems to have con- fifted principally in a particular manner of teach- ing the doctrine of future rewards and punifh- ments ; 104 CERTAINTY. ments ; by which the rewards were fuppofed to regard the initiated alone, and the puniflnrients only the profane, or thofe. who were not initiated. This is confirmed by many authorities; and, among others, by that fhrewd obfervation of Dio- genes Laertius : What ? Shall the future Jiate of the robber Paracion be happier, becaufe he is ini- tiated, than that cf Epamiaondas ? Upon the whole, it does not appear that the unity of the Supreme Being was a part of the fecret doctrine here in queftion. DE ST. CROIX^ CERTAINTY. HAD you, in Copernicus's time, afked all the world, Did the fun rife, did the fun fet, to-day ? they would one and all have anfwered, That is a certainty ; we are fully certain of it : thus they were certain, and yet miilaken. Witchcraft, divi- nations, and pofleffions, were for a long time uni- verfally accounted the moft certain things in the world. What numberlefs crowds have feen all thefe fine tilings, and have been certain cf them ! but at prefent fuch certainty begins to lofe its credit. A mathematical demonftration is a very different certainty from thefe : they were only pro- babilities, which, on being fearched into, are found errors ; but mathematical certainty is ins- mutable CHAIN OF EVENTS. ii* mutable and eternal. I exift, I think, I feel pain; is all this as certain as a geometrical truth ? Yes. And why ? becaufe thefe truths are proved by the fame principle, that a thing cannot at the fame time be and not be. I cannot at one and the fame time exift and not exift, feel and not feel. A triangle cannot have and not have a hundred and eighty degrees, the firm of two right angles. Thus the phyfical certainty of my exift- ence and my fenfation, and mathematical cer- tainty, are of a like validity, though differing in kind. But this is by no means applicable to the certainty founded on appearances, or the unani- mous relations of men. VOLTAIRE. CHAIN OF EVENTS. IT is an old fuppofition, that all events are linked together by an invincible fatality, this is cleft iny, which Homer makes fuperior to Jupiter himfelf. The fyftem of necefiity and fatality has, according to Leibnitz, been (truck out by himfelf under the appellation of fufficient reafm ; but it is in reality of very ancient date, that no effect is without a caufe; and that often the leaft caufe produces the greateft effects, is what the world is not to be taught at this time of day. My Lord Bolingbroke owns, that the trivial quarrel between the Dutchefs of Marlborough and Mrs Mafham, put ro6 CHAIN OF EVENTS. put him upon making the feparate treaty between Queen Anne and Lewis XIV. This treaty brought on the peace of Utrecht. This peace fettled Philip V. on the Spanifh throne : Philip difpof- feffed the houie of Auftria, of Naples, and Sicily. Thus the Spanifh prince, who is now king of Naples, evidently owes his fovereignty to Mrs Mafham : he would not have had it, perhaps he would not fo much as have been born, had the Dutchefs of Marlborough behaved with due com- plaifance towards the Queen of England : his exigence at Naples depended on a few follies committed at the court of London. Inquire into the fituations of all nations on the globe, and they all derive from a chain of events, apparently quite unconnected with any one thing, and connected with every thing. In this immenfe machine all is wheel-work, pully, cords, and fpring. It is the fame in the phyfieal fyftem. A wind, blowing from the fouth of Africa and the Auftral feas, brings with it part of the African atmofphere, which falls down again in rain among the valleys of the Alps 5 and thefe rains fruclify die lands. Again, our northern wind wafts our vapours among the negroes. Thus we benefit Guinea, and are benefited by it , and this chain reaches from one end of die univerfe to die other. VOLTAIRE.. THE CHANCE AND CAUSES. 107 THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN CHANCE AND CAUSES. THE beft general rqletohelp us in diftinguifh- ing between chance and caufes, is the following : What depends upon a few perfcns, is in a great meafure te be afcribed to chance^ or fecrct and un- known caufes : What arifes from a great numbf-r^ may often be accounted for by determinate and known caufes. Two natural reafons may be afligned for this rule : Firft, if you fuppofe a dye to have any bias, however fmall, to a particular fide, this bias, though perhaps it may not appear in a few throws, will certainly prevail in a great number, and will caft the balance entirely to that fide. In like manner, when any caufes beget a particular inclination or pafTion at a certain time, and among a certain people, though many individuals may efcape the contagion, and be ruled by paflions peculiar to to themfelves, yet the multitude will certainly be feized by the common affection, and be governed by it in all their actions. Secondly, Thofe prin- ciples or caufes which are fitted to operate on a multitude, are always of a grofler nature, lefs fub- jeave been. CONSCIENCE. 143 been led into excefles by their paflions recover themfelves, and become regular and happy. It is very uncommon to fee a man in any profeffion acting above the prepofieflions of it. It is very uncommon to fee a charitable fe&ary, or a per- fon who has had his mind formed on narrow gloomy cruelty, recover any degree of liberality, good-nature, and humanity. Men in this fituatien are like lunatics, the main fpring of whofe minds is a falfe and inefficient one. And we might as well fay lunatics are as they ought to be, becaufe they think fo ; as that men who aft ill on religious or political principles are right, becaufe they are of that opinion. The proper and real happinefs of man, as an individual, as a member of fociety, and a part of the univerfal empire of God, is to be procured only by real knowledge and virtue. It is therefore as much our duty, in every cafe, to confider and examine our principles, as it is honeftly to act on them when we are fatisfied they are right. WILLIAMS. LIBERTY OF CONSCIENCE. "WE can comprehend things no otherwife than as they prefent themfelves to our perceptions; nor is it poflible for any one to reftrain his mind from receiving a variety of propofitions either as true or- as falfe, when clearly underftood. It 144 CONTEMPT. It is not in our power to think or judge accord- ing to the opinions of another ; nor are we at liberty, in any cafe, to believe or difbelieve, or fufpend our aflent, juft as humour or fancy may direct, or others command. In thefe particulars, we muft be guided by that light which arifes from the nature of things, fo far as it is perceived ; and by thofe evidences and arguments which may appear to the mind, and convince the judg- ment. No one can give a rational aflent to any thing but in the ufe of his reafon. How then is it poffible he fhould receive as reafonable what ap- pears to him to be unreafonable ? or that he fhould receive as a certain truth what does not come to his own mind with clear and convincing evi- dences ? Nor can thofe arguments which may be urged, although valid in themfelves, ever pro- duce an alteration in opinion, if they do not ap- pear to his own judgment obvious in their con- nexion, and fufficient for that purpofe. t FELL. CONTEMPT. , IF the contempt of mankind be infupportable, Jt is becaufe it prefages evil, as it in part de- prives us of the advantages that arife from the union of men in fociety: for contempt implies a i want CONTROVERSY. 145 * want of attention in mankind to ferve us, and pre- fents the time to come as void of pleafures, and filled with pains. HELYETIUS. CONTROVERSY. WHERE is the opinion, fo rational, and Co plaufible, that the fpirit of controverfy cannot (hake it ? Can any pofition be fo abfurd, as to render fpecious arguments incapable of fupport- ing it ? When a perfon is once convinced, either of the truth or of the falfity of any thing, he immediately from a paflion for difputation, be- comes attached to his own idea, and foon feeks folely, to acquire a fuperiority over his adverfary, by dint of the powers of imagination and by fubtilty ; efpecially when fome obfcure queftion, involved by its nature in darknefs, is the point in debate. ARNOBIUS. RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSIES. Two men, travelling on the highway, the one eaft, the other weft, can eafily pafs each other, if the way be broad enough. But two men, reafoning upon oppofite principles of re- ligion, cannot fo eafily pafs without mocking; though one mould think that the way were alfo, in that cafe, fufficiently broad, and that each VOL. I. N f might CONTROVERSIES. might proceed without interruption hi his own courfe. But fuch is the nature of the human mind, that it always takes hold of every mind that approaches it; and as it is wonderfully for- tified and corroborated by an unanimity of fenti- ments, fo it is fhocked and difturbed by any con- trariety. Hence the eagernefs which moft people difcover in a difpute ; and hence their impatience of oppofition, even in the moft fpeculative and indifferent opinions. This principle, however frivolous it may ap- pear, feems to have been the origin of all religious wars and divifions. But as this principle is uni- verfal in human nature, its effects would not have been confined to one age, and to one fel of religion, did it not there concur with other more accidental caufes, which raife it to fuch a height as to produce the greateft mifery and de- yaftation. Moft religions of the ancient world arofe in the unknown ages of government, when men were as yet barbarous and uninftructed, and the prince as well as peafant was difpofed to re- ceive with implicit faith, every pious tale or fic- tion, which was offered him. The magiftrate embraced the religion of the people, and entering cordially into the care of facred matters, naturally acquired an authority in them, and united the ecclefiaftical with the civil power. But the Chri- lian religion arifing, while principles dirs.clly op- Co>TTROVRSIES. 147 oppofite to it were firmly eftablifhed in the polite part of the world, who defpifed the nation who broached this novelty; no wonder that, in fuch circumftances, it was but little countenanced by the civil magiftrate, and that the priefthood were allowed to engrofs all the authority in the new feel:. So bad a ufe did thy make of this power, even in thofe early times, that the perfecutions of Chriftianity may, perhaps, in party be afcribed to the violence inftilled by them into their followers ; though it mufl not be diflembled that there were laws againft external fuperftition amongfl the Romans as ancient as the time of the twelve tables; and the Jews as well as Chriftians were fometimes puniflied by them; though, in general, thefe laws were not rigoroufly executed. Imme- diately after the conqueft of Gaul, they forbad all but the natives io be initiated into the religion of the Druids ; and this was a kind of perfecu- tion. In about a century after this conqueft,. the Emperor Claudius, quite aboliflied that fuper- ftition by penal laws ; which would have been a very grievous perfecution, if the imitation of the Roman manners had not, before hand, weaned the Gauls from their ancient prejudices. (S-ttetonius in vita Claudii.) Pliny afcribes the abo- Htion of Druid fuperftitkms to Tiberius, probably becaufe that emperor had taken fome fteps to- wards retraining them.. This is an inftance o N 2 the 148 CONTROVERSIES. the ufual caution and moderation of the Romans in fuch cafes j and very different from their vio- lent and fanguinary method of treating the Chri- ftians. Hence we may entertain a fufpicion, thofe furious perfecutions of Chriftianity were in fome meafure owing to the imprudent zeal and bigotry of the firft propagators of that feet ; and ecclefiaftical hiftory affords us many reafons to confirm this fufpicion. After Chriftianity be- came the eftablifhed religion, the principles of prieftiy government continued; and engendered a fpirit of perfecution, which has ever fmce been the poifon of human fociety, and the fource of the moft inveterate factions, in every govern- ment. There is another caufe (befides the au- thority of the priefls, and the feparation of the ecdefiaftical and civil powers) which has contri- buted to render ChriR-entlcin the fccnc of re- ligious wars and divifions. Religions, that arife in ages totsHy^ ignorant and barbarous, confift jnoftly of traditional tales and fictions, which may be very different in every fel, without be- ing contrary to each other ; and even when they are contrary, every one adheres to the tradition of his own fet, without much reafoning and dif- putation. But as philofophy was widely fpread over the world at the time when Chriftianity arofe, the teachers of the new feet were obli- ged to form a fyftem of fpeculative opinions ; to CONTROVERSISES. to divide with fome accuracy their articles of faith ; and to explain, comment, confute, and de- fend with all the fubtilty of argument and fci- ence. Hence naturally arofe keennefs in difpute, when the Chriftian religion came to be fplit into new divifions and herefles. And this keen- nefs aflifted the priefts in their policy, of be- getting a mutual hatred and antipathy among their deluded followers. Sets ef philofophy} in the ancient world, were more zealous than parties of religion ; but in modern times, parties of religion are more furious and enraged than the moft cruel factions that ever arofe from intereft and ambition. The civil wars which arofe fome years ago in Morocco between the blacks and whites, merely on account of their complexion, are founded on a pleafarit difference. We laugh at them; but were things rightly ex- amined, we afford much more occafion of ridi- cule to the moors. For what are all the wara of religion which have prevailed in this polite and knowing part of the world ? They are certainly more abfur J than the Moorim civil wars. The difference of complexion is a fenfible and real difference : But the difference about an article of faith, which is utterly abfurd and unintelligible, is not a difference in fentiment, but a difference in. a few phrafes and exprefljons, which one N 3 E art 7 150 CONVERSATION. party accepts of without underftanding them, and the other refutes in the fame manner. HUME. CONVERSATION. A VERBAL converfation may be miilaken by a flownefoof underftanding, or by ahafte of zealj may be miftated by a weaknefs of memory, or by arts of defign. The force and fpirit of a conver- fation may depend upon the occafion which in- troduced it; upon the obfenrations which pre- ceded it ; upon the time in which it was pro- nounced ; upon the gefture by which it was ac- companied. A converfation related with verbal accuracy may have diminifhed or increafed its force, may have acquired a milder or a more malignant fpirit, in the hands of an artful er an unfkilful reporter. * * ON THE SAME SUBJECT. THE laws of converfation are, in genera!, not to labour over any fubjecr, but to pafs over eadly, without effort or affectation, from one to another ; to fpeak occafionally on frivolous as well is on ferious fubjels ; to remember that converfation is a relaxation, and not a fencing- fchool, CONVERSATION 151 fchool, nor a game of chefs j in a word, to allow the fancy to range at freedom. You are not to engrofs the difcourfe to yourfelf, nor to deliver your opinions in a magifterial tonej as this muft be very difgufting to the hearers, and prepoflefs them againft you. There can be no fituation in which we are lefs able to conceal our felf-love than in converfation ; and we are always fure to lofe by mortifying the pride of others, who will naturally be defirous of revenging themfelves ; and their ingenuity feldom fails inftantly to dif- cover an opportunity. Another defect to be fhunned is fpeaking like one reading, and having what is called a well-written converfation. A converfation ought no more to be like a written difcourfe, than the latter like a converfation. "What is pretty fingular is, that thofe who fall into the former blemifli, feldom efcape the other: becaufe being in the habit of fpeaking as they would write, they imagine they ought to write as they fpeak. It fhould be a rule, that a man can- not be too much on his guard when he writes to the public, and never too eafy towards thofe with whom he converfes. D' ALEMBERT. THE CORN. THE EXPORTATION OF CORN. IN inland high countries, remote from the fea, and whofe rivers are fmall, running from the country, and not to it, as is the cafe of Switzerland, great diftrefs may arife from a courfe of bad har- vefts, if public granaries are not provided and kept well ftored Anciently, too, before naviga- tion was fo general, fhips fo plenty, and commer- cial connections fo well eftablifhed, even maritime countries might be occafionally diftreffed by bad crops : But fuch is now the facility of communi- cation between thofe countries, that an unre- ftrained commerce can fcarce ever fail of procu- ring a fufficiency for any of them. If indeed any government is fo imprudent as to lay its hands on imported corn, forbid its exportation, or com- pel its fale at limited prices, there the people may fuffer fome famine, from merchants avoiding their ports. But wherever commerce is known to be always free, and die merchant abfolute ma- fter of his commodity, as in Holland, there will always be a reafonable fupply. When an ex- portation of earn takes place, occafioned by a higher price in fome foreign countries, it is com- mon to raife a clamour, on the fuppofition that we ihall thereby produce a domeftic famine. Then follows a prohibition, founded on the ima- ginary CORN. J53 Binary diilrcfs of the poor. The poor to be fure, if in diflrefs, mould be relieved -, but if the far- mer could have a high price for his corn from the foreign demand, muft he by a prohibition of ex- portation be compelled to take a low price, not of the poor only, but of every one that eats bread, even the richeft ? The duty of relieving the poor is incumbent on the rich ; but by this operation the whole burden of it is laid on the farmer, who is to relieve the rich at the fame time. Of the poor, too, thofe who are maintained by the pa- rimes, have no right to claim this facrifice of the farmer ; as, while they have their allowance, it makes no difference to them whether bread be cheap or dear. Thofe working poor, who now mind bufmefs only five or four days in the week, if bread fliould be fo dear as to oblige them to \v*crk the V,'ho't v miired bv the command. ' ~ i * ment, do not feem to be aggrieved, fo as to have a right to public redrefs. There will then re- main, comparatively, only a few families in every diftrict, who from ficknefs, or a great number of children, will be fo diftrefled by a high price of corn, as to need relief; and they mould be taken care of by particular benefactions, without re- ftraining the farmer's profit. Thofe who fear that exportation may fo far drain the country of corn as to flarve ourfelves, fear what never did, nor ever can happen. They may as veil, when they 154 COR N. they view the tide ebbing towards the fea, fear that all the water will leave the river. The price of corn, like water, will find its level. The more we export, the dearer it becomes at home ; the more is received abroad, the cheaper it becomes there : and as foon as thefe prices are equal, the exportation flops of courfe. As the feafons vary in different countries, the calamity of a bad har- veft is never univerfal. If then all ports were al- ways open, and all commerce free, every mari- time country would generally eat bread at the medium price or average of all the harvefts; which would probably be more equal than we can make it by our artificial regulations, and therefore a more fleady encouragement to agri- culture. The nation would all have bread at the middle price ; and that nation which at any time inhumanly refufes to relieve the diftrefles of an- other nation, deferves no companion when in di- ftrefs itfelf, FRANKLIN.. COUNTRY. A COUNTRY is compofed of feveral families: and as felf-love generally leads us to Hand up for and fupport our particular families when a con- trary intereft does not intervene j fo, from the like felf-love, a, man ftands up for his town or village j which he calls his native home. The more CO U N T R Y. more extended this native home is, the lefs we love it j fbr divifion weakens love : it is impoflible in nature to have a tender love for a family fo numerous as fcarce to be known. The candi- date, amidft his ambitious intrigues to be chofen ./Edile, Tribune, Praetor, Conful, Di&ator, makes a noife about his love for his country j. whereas it is only himfelf that he loves. Every one is for fecuring to himfelf the freedom of laying at his own home, and that it mail be in no man's power to turn him out ; every one is for being fure of his life and fortune. Thus the whole fociety coin- ciding in the like wifhes, private intereft becomes that of the public ; and an individual in praying only for himfelf, prays in effeft for the whole community. Every ftate on the whole earth indifputably has originally been a republic ; it is the natural progrefs of human nature : a number of families at firft entered into an alliance to fe- cure one another againft bears and wolves ; and that which had plenty of grain, bartered with an- other which had nothing but wood. On our difcovery of America, all the feveral tribes throughout that vaft part of the world were found divided into republics ; but there were only two kingdoms. Of a thoufand nations, only two were fubdued. VOLTAIRE. U* RE- CORRUPTION. RELIGIOUS AND POLITICAL CORRUPTION. THE name of religious corruption Is given to all kinds of libertinifm, and principally to that of men with women. This fpecies of corruption is not Incompatible with the happinefs of a nation. The people of different countries have believed, and believe ftill, that this corruption is not crimi- nal. It could not be criminal in any Mate, if wo- men were in common, and their offspring decla- red the children of the ftate: this crime would then, in a political view, be attended with no danger. In f aft, if we take a furvey of the earth, we fhall fee different nations of people, among whom what we call libertinifm is not only confi- dered as no corruption of manners, but is found authorifed by the laws, and even confecrated by religion. AVhat innumerable evils, will it be faid, are annexed to this kind of corruption ? May it not be anfwered : That difiblutenefs is then only politically dangerous in a ftate, when it contra- venes the law of the country, or is blended with fome other defect of government. It is in vain to add, that the nations where fuch diflblutenefs prevails, are the contempt of the world. What nation ever excelled the Greeks? a people which to this day is the admiration and honour of hu- i man CORRUPTION. 157 man nature. Before the Peleponefian war, an sera fatal to their virtue, what nation, what coun- try, produced fo many virtuous and great men ? Yet the tafte of the Greeks for the moft in- decent and unnatural luft is well known ; and the moft virtuous of the Greeks, according to our ideas of morality, would have been looked upon in Europe as moft wicked and contemptible de- bauchees. This kind of corruption of manner* was in Greece carried to the utmoft excefs, at the very time jthat country produced fuch great men of every kind ?s made Perfia to tremble. We may therefore obferve, that religious corrup- tion does not feem incompatible with the great- nefs and felicity of a ft'ate ; but political corrup- tion is preparative to the fall of an empire, and prefages its ruin. With this a people is infe&ed when the bulk of the individuals feparate their intereft from that of the public. This kind of corruption, which fometimes is blended with the preceding, lias led many moralifts to confound them : if the queftion be only of the political in- tereft of a ftate, the latter would perhaps be the moft dangerous. A people, however pure its manners might have been at firft, when this cor- ruption becomes common, muft neceflarily be unhappy at home, and little feared abroad: the duration of fuch an empire is precarious ; it is chance which either delays or haftens the fall of VOL. I. f O it. i^8 CORRUPTION. it. The public happinefs or mifery depends folely on the agreement or oppofition of the in- tereft of individuals with flie general intereft ; and the religious corruption of manners may, as hiftory abundantly proves, be often joined with magnanimity, elevation of foul, wifdom, abilities; in fine, with all the qualities which form great men. There are two different fpecies of bad nclions , fome vicious in every form of govern- ment; others, which in a ftate are pernicious, and confequently criminal only, as thofe actions are contradictory to the laws of thofe countries. HELVETIUS. COURTESANS. COUTESAXS were more honoured by the Romans than by us; and more than either by the Greeks. All the world have heard of the two Afpafias, one of whom inflrutted even Socrates in politics and eloquence; of Phryne, who at her own expence built the walls of Thebes de- ftroyed by Alexander, and whofe lewdnefs re- paired in fome meafure the evil done by that con- queror ; of Lais, who captivated fo many 'philo- fophers, even Diogenes, whom fhe made happy, and of whom Ariftippus faid, " I pofiefs Lais, " but Lais does not poifefs me:" A good maxim for every man of fcnic. But the moft celebrated of COURTESANS. f all was Leontium, who wrote books of philo- fophy, and was beloved by Epicurus and his dif- ciples. The famous Ninon 1'Enclos may be looked upon as the modern Leontium: but how few others have refembled her ! Nothing is more uncommon than philofophical ladies of pleafure : perhaps it is a profanation to join the former to the latter term. We will not enlarge on this article ; but it may be proper to obferve, that, independent of our religion, viewing it only in a moral light, a paflion for common -women equally enervates the foul and the body, and is attended with the worfl of confequences, with regard to fortune, health, repofe, and happinefs. On this occafion we may recal the faying of Demofthenes, " I will not buy repentance at fa " dear a price ;" and alfo that of die Emperor Adrian, who on being afked why Venus was painted naked, replied, Qitia nullos dimlttit. But are not falfe and coquetilh w r omen more contemptible in one fenfe, and more dangerous to the heart and underftanding, than courtefans ? This queftion we {hall leave others to determine. A celebrated philofopher (Buffon) now living, examines in his natural hiftory, Why love makes the happinefs of all other beings- and the mifery of man ? He anfwers " That the only thing " valuable in that paflion is the inftinctive attrac- tion(le phyfique), and that the moral fentiment Q 2 (le 160 COURTESANS. " (le moral) which accompanies it is good for no- " thing." This philofopher does not maintain that the moral adds nothing to the phyfical plea- -fure; for here experience would be againft him: nor that the moral is only an illufion (which is the cafe), but deftroys not the vivacity of the pleafure. His meaning is, undoubtedly, that from the moral fentiment proceed all the evils of love : and here one cannot be of his opinion. From this, let us only infer, that if a light fuperior to our reafon did not promife us a hap- pier ftate, we might well complain of Nature, who with one hand prefenting us the moft allu- ling of pleafures, would feem with the other to pufh us from it, in furrounding it with fo many rocks and fhelves, and placing it in a manner on the brink of a precipice between grief and pri- vation. ciety. HELVETIUS. I)* R K N E S S. LOCKE'S OPINION CONCERNING DARKNESS CONSIDERED. TT is Mr Locke's opinion, that darknefs is not naturally an idea of terror ; and that though an exceffive light is painful to the fenfe, that the greateft excefs of darknefs is noways trouble- fome. He obferves, indeed, in another place, that a nurfe or an old woman, having once afib- ciated the idea of ghofts and goblins with that of darknefs, night ever after becomes painful and horrible to the imagination. The authority of this great man is doubtlefs as great as that of any man can be. But it feems that an afTocia- tion of a more general nature, an aflbciatioa which takes in all mankind, may make darknefs terrible : for in utter darknefs it is impoflible to know in what degree of fafety we (land ; we are ignorant of the objects which furround us ; we may every moment ftrike againft fome dangerous P 3 6b- DARKNESS. obftruHon ; we may fall down a precipice the firft ftep we take ; and if an enemy approach, we know not in what quarter to defend ourfelves. In fuch a cafe ftrength is no fure protection ; wif- dom can only a& by guefs ; the boldeft are dag- gered j and he who would pray for nothing elfe towards his defence, is forced to pray for light. Ziv oalt, a\\a evvyxi a.* x.io; viaf A7^ DARKNESS good effects of more cheerful colours were deri- ved from their connection with pleafing ones. They had both probably their effects from their .natural operation. It may be worth while to examine how dark- nefs can operate in fuch a manner as to caufe pain. It is obfervable, that dill as we recede from the light, nature has fo contrived it, that the pupil is enlarged by the retiring of the iris in proportion to our recefs. Now, inftead of declining from it but a little, fuppofe that we withdraw entirely from the light : it is reafonable to think that the contraction of the radial fibres of the iris is pro- portionably greater ; and that this part by great .darknefs may come to be fo contracted, as to ftrain the nerves that compofe it beyond their na- tural tone, and by this means to produce a pain- ful fenfation. Such a tenfion, it feems, there cer-r tainly is whilft we are involved in darknefs ; for in fuch a flate, while the eye remains open, there is a continual nifus to receive light : This is ma- nifeft from the flames and luminous appearances which often feem in thefe circumftances to play before it, and which can be nothing but the effect of fpafms produced by its own efforts in purfuit of its object. Several other flrong impulfes will produce the idea of light in the eye befides the fubftance of light itfelf, as we experience on many occaHons. Though the circular ring of the iris DARKNESS. 177 iris be in fome fenfe a fphincter, which may pof- fibly be dilated by a fimple relaxation; yet in one rcfpect it differs from moft of the fphincters of the body, that k is furnifhed with antagonift mufcles, which are the radial fibres of the iris. No fooner does the circular mufcle begin to re- lax, than thefe fibres, wanting their counterpoife, are forcibly drawn back, and open the pupil to a confiderable widenefs. But though we were not apprifed of this, every one, it is to be prefumed, will find, if he opens his eyes and makes an ef- fort to fee in a dark place, that a very percei- vable pain enfues. It hath alfo been a complaint of fome ladies, that after having worked a long time upon a ground of black, their eyes were fo pained and weakened they could hardly fee. It may perhaps be objected to this theory of the mechanical effect of darknefs, that the ill effects of darknefs or blacknefs feem rather mental than corporeal : and it is true that they do fo; and fa do all thofe that depend on the affections of the finer parts of our fyftcm. The ill effects of bad weather appear no other- wife than in a melancholy and dejection of of fpirits ; though without doubt, in this cafe, the bodily organs fuffer firft, and the mind through thefe organs. BURKE. DEITY I'7$ I T T. t DEITY. A PURPOSE, an intention, a defign, ftrlkes every where the mofl carelefs thinker j and no man can be fo hardened in abfurd fyftems as at all times to reject it. That natura does nothing in vain, is a maxim eftablifhed in aH the ichools, merely from" the contemplation of the books of nature, without any religious purpofe : and from a firm conviction of its truth, an anatomifl, who had obferved a new organ or canal, would never be fatisfied till he had difcovered its ufe and in- tention. One great foundation of theCopernican fyftem is the maxim, that nature afts by the jtm- plefl methods, and chozfes the mrf proper means to tny end : and aftronomers, without thinking of it, often lay this ftrong foundation of piety and religion. The fame thing is obfervable in other parts of philofophy : And thus all the fciences almoft lead us infenfibly to acknowledge a firft intelligent Author ; and their authority is often fo much the greater, as they do not directly pro- fefs that intention. It is with pleafure I hear Galen reafon concerning the ftruclure of the hu- man body.- The anatomy of a man, fays he, dif- covers above 600 different mufcles ; and whoever duly confiders thefe will find, that in each of them nature mull have adjufted at leaft ten different cu> B E I T Y. 179 circumftances in order to attain the end which fhe propofed ; proper figure, juft magnitude, right difpofition of the feveral ends, upper and lower pofition of the whole, the due insertion of the feveral nerves, veins, and arteries ; fo that in the mufcles alone, above 6000 feveral views and intentions muft have been formed and executed. The bones he calculates to be 284. The diftincl purpofes aimed at in the ftructure of each above forty. What a prodigious difplay of arti- fice even in thefe fimple and homogeneous parts' But if we .confider the fkin, ligaments, veflels, glandules, humours, the feveral limbs and mem- bers of the body, how muft our aftonifliment rife upon us, in proportion to the number and intricacy of the parts fo artificially adjufted ? The further we advance in thefe refearches, we difcover new fcenes of art and wifdom ; but defcry at a diftance further fcenes beyond our reach, in the fine in- ternal ftru&ure of the parts, in the ceconomy of the brain, in the fabric of the feminal veflels. All thefe artifices are repeated in every different fpecies of animal with wonderful variety and with exact propriety, fuited to the different in- tentions of nature in framing each fpecies. And if the infidelity of Galen, even when thefe natural fciences were ftill imperfect, could not withftand fuch ftriking appearances ; to what pitch of pertinacious obftinacy muft a philofopher DEITY. in this age have attained, who can now doubt of a Supreme Intelligence? Could I meet with a man of this kind, I would afk him, Suppofing there were a God who did not dif- cover himfelf immediately to the fenfes; were it poffible for him to give ftrohger proofs of his exigence, than what appear on the whole face of nature ? What indeed could fuch a di- vine being do, except copy the prefent cecono- my of things ; render many of his artifices fo plain, that no ftupidity could miftake them ; af- ford glimpfes of ftill greater artifices, which de- monftrate this prodigious fuperiority above our narrow apprehenfions ; and conceal altogether a great many from fuch imperfect creatures ? Now, according to all rules of juft reafoning, every fact muft pafs for undifputed, when it is fupported by all the arguments which its nature admits of j even though thefe arguments be not very forcible or numerous : how much more in the prefent cafe, where no human imagination can com- pute their number, and no underftanding efti- mate their cogency ? The comparifon of the univerfe to a machine is fo obvious and natural, and is juftified by fo many inftances of order and defign in nature, that it muft immediately ftrike all unprejudiced apprehenfions, and procure uni- Verfal approbation. That the works of nature bear a great analogy to the productions of art, Z is DEITY. t8r is evident ; and according to all the rules of good reafoning we ought to infer, if we argue at all concerning them, that their caufes have a pro- portional analogy. But as there are alfo confi- derable differences, we have reafon to fuppofe a proportional difference in the caufes ; and in par- ticular ought to attribute a much higher degree of power and energy to the Supreme Caufe than any we have ever obfefved in mankind. Here then the exiftence of a Deity is plainly afcertain- ed by reafon : and if we make it a queftion, Whether on account of thefe analogies we can properly call him a Mind or Intelligence, not- withftanding the vaft difference which may rea- fonably be fuppofed between him and human minds ; what is this but a mere verbal contro- verfy ? .No man can deny the analogies between the effects : to reftrain ourfelves from inquiring concerning the caufes is fcarcely poflible. From this inquiry the legitimate conclusion is, that the caufes have alfo an analogy : and if we are not contented with calling the firft and fupreme caufe a God or Deity, but defire to vary the ex- preiTion, what can we call him but Mind br Thought, to which he is juftly fuppofed to bear a considerable refemblance ? So that this contro- verfy is a difpute of words. HUME. VOL. I. Q f ON DEITY. ON THE SAME SUBJECT. TO difcover a Deity, mankind muft open the facred volume of God's works ; confider the ob- vious fitnefs of every caufe to produce its effe& ; the proof which this affords of intention and de- fign ; the harmony and order which prevails wherever we have clear and perfect views; and the invariable certainty with which virtue and happinefs arife to individuals and nations from the laws of this order. Let them go one ftep, and one ftep only, into theregioa of analogy and imagination ; let them fuppofe thefe great qua- lities thefe intentions, this defign, this good- nefs, not to be fcattered through the univerfe, but to belong to one being who actuates it ; and they will know all that can poflibly be known of God. Beware of trufting your imagination one moment longer. She has foared her utmoft height ; and every effort {lie makes will be to- wards the earth, and will generate error and ab- furdity. You are to glance only by the utmoft exertion of your abilities at that Being who is incomprehenfible ; and you are to be fatisfied with few and general ideas on fo great a fub- jet,. When a man has obtained general proofs, that the univerfe is replete with the effects of vvifdom, dire&ed to the happinefs of its inhabi- tants, DEITY. 183 tants, he has all the knowledge he can ever have of God. All his further inquiries, when judi- cioufly made, will only furnifh additional evidence to the fame general truth. But whether he be Nature itfelf, or a principle diftinft from and animating it; whether he confift of matter of fpirit, whether hs be infinite fpace or a mathe- matical point ; whether he be undefinable and have no form, or have any determinate figure, and refide in a particular place ? thefe are ridi- culous and mifchievous queftions; becaufe we have no poflibility of being informed on the fub- jeb of them ; becaufe they miflead us from truth, the principle of virtue, to vifions and errors, the principles of vice ; they create differences, ge- nerate divifions, and deftroy the general harmony and benevolence which were defigned to reign through the whole univerfe. AU nature is an altar to the unknown God, WILLIAMS. THE IDEA AND BELIEF OF A GOD, NOT INNATE. THE belief of an invifible, intelligent Power has been very generally diffufed over the human race in all places and in all ages ; but it has neither, perhaps, been fo univerfal as to admit of no exceptions, nor has it been in any degree uni- Qj* from 184 DEITY. form in the ideas which it has fuggefted. Some- nations have been difcovered, who entertain no fentiments of religion, if. travellers and hifto- rians may be credited ; and no two nations, and fcarce any two men, have ever agreed precifely in the fame fentiments. It would appear, then, that this preconception fprings not from an ori- ginal inftinft or primary impreffion of Nature ; fince every inftincl: of that kind muft be abfolutely univerfal in all nations and ages, and muft have always a precife determinate objecl: which it in- flexibly purfues. The firft religious principles, therefore., are fecondary ; fuch as may eaiily be perverted by various accidents and caufes, and whofe operation, too, in fome cafes, may by an extraordinary concurrence of circunftances, be altogether prevented. HUME. THE WORSHIP OF THE DEITY. TO know God, fays Seneca, is to worfhip him. All other worfhip is indeed abfurd, fuperfti- tious, and even impious. It degrades him ta the low condition of mankind, who are delighted with intreaty, felicitation, prefents, and flattery. ^-Yet is this impiety the fmalleft of which fu- perftition is guilty. Commonly it deprefies the Deity far below the condition of mankind ; and reprefents him as a capricious daemon, who oxer- cifes D E 1 T T. Cffes his power without reafon and without hu- manity ! And were the Divine Being difpofed to be offended at the vices and follies of filly mortals, who are his own workmanftiip, ill would it furely fare with the votaries of moft popular fuperftitions. Nor would any of the human race merit his favour, but a very few, the philofophi- cal Theifts-, who entertain fukable notions of his divine perfections : as the only perfons intitled to his compaffion and indulgence would be the philofophical Sceptics, a feel: almoft equally rare ; who from a natural diffidence of their own capa- city, fufpend, or endeavour to fufpend, all judg- ment with regard to fuch fubiime and fuch ex- traordinary fubje&s.. HUME. DELICACY OF TASTE AND OF PASSION. SOME people are fubject to a certain delicacy of paflion, and others enjoy a delicacy of taile. The firft quality makes them extremely fenfible to all the accidentj of life, and gives them a lively joy upon, every profperous event,, as well as a piercing grief when they meet with misfor- tunes and adverfity. Favours and good offices eafily engage their fjriendfhipj while the fmaHeit injury provokes' their refentment. Any honour, or mark of diftinclion elevates them above mea-. DELICACT. jfure; but they are fenfibly touched with con- tempt. Delicacy of tafte much refembles this delicacy of paflion, and produces the fame fenfibility to beauty and deformity of every kind as that does to profperity and adverfity, obligations and in- juries. When you prefent a poem or a picture to a man poflefled of this talent, the delicacy of his feeling makes him be touched very fenfibly with every part of it ; nor are the mafterly ftrokes perceived with more exquifite relilh and fatisfae- tion, than the negligences or abfurdities with dif- guft and uneafinefs. A polite and judicious con- verfation affords him the higheft entertainment; rudenefs or impertinence is a great punifliment to him. Delicacy of paffion gives us more lively en- joyments as well as more pungent forrows than are felt by men of cool and fedate tempers : but when every thing is balanced, there is no one who would not, perhaps, rather be of the latter cha- racter, were he entirely mafter of his own dif- pofition. Good or ill fortune is very little at our difpofal: and when a perfon, that has this fen- fibility of temper, meets with any misfortune, his forrow or refentment takes entire pofleffion of him, and deprives him of all relifh in the com- mpn occurrences of life; the right enjoyment of which forms the chief part of our happinefs. Not to mention that men of fuch lively paflions are DELICACY. 187 are apt to be tranfported beyond all bounds of prudence and difcretion, and to take falfe fteps in the conduct of life, which are often irre- trievable. Delicacy of tafte has alfo the fame effect as delicacy of paffion : it enlarges the fphere both of our happinefs and mifery, and makes us fenfible to pains as well as pleafures which efcape the reft of mankind. A delicacy of tafte is fa- vourable to love and friendfhip, by confining our choice to few people, and making us indifferent to the company and converfation of the greateft part of mankind. Mere men of the world, whatever ftrong fenfe they may be endowed with, are feldom very nice in diftinguifhing characters, or marking thofe infenfible differences and gradations which make one man preferable to another. Any one that has competent fenfe is fufficient for their entertainment. But one that has well digefted his knowledge both of books and men, has little enjoyment but in the company of a few feledt companions. He feels too fenfibly, how much all the reft of mankind fall fhort of the notion* which he has entertained. How far delicacy of tafte and that of paffion are connected together in the original frame of the mind, it is hard to determine. However, there -appears a very confiderable connection be- tween them ; but notwithftanding this connection, delicacy of tafte is as much to be defired and culti- vated, i88 DE L i c A c Y. vated, as delicacy of paflion is to be lamented, and to be remedied if poflible. The good or ill ac- cidents of life are very little at our difpofal ; but we are pretty much mafters what books we (hall read, what diverfions we (hall partake of, and what company we (hall keep. HUME. DELIRIUMS. DELIRIUMS fometimes attend difeafes, efpe- cially acute ones. In thefe a difagreeable ftate is introduced into the nervous fyftem by the bo- dily diforder, which checks the rife of pleafant aflbciations, and gives force and quicknefs to dif- guftful ones ; and which confequently would of itfelf alone, if fafficient in degree, vitiate and di- ftort all the reafonings of the fick perfon. But befides this, it feems that in deliriums attending diftempers, a vivid train of viiible images forces itfelf upon the patient's eye; and that either from a diforder of the nerves and blood-veiTeis of the eye itfelf, or from one in the brain or one in the alimentary duel ; or, which is moft probable, from a concurrence of all thefe. It feems alfo, that the wild difcourfe of delirious perfons is accom- modated to this train in fome imperfect manner; ami that it becomes fo wild, partly from the in- coherence of the parts of this train, partly from its not exprefiing even this incoherent train ade- quately, DELI*IUMS. 189 quately, but deviating into fuch phrafes as the vi- brations excited by the diftemper in parts of the brain correfponding to the auditory nerves, or in parts ftill more internal, and confequently the feats of ideas purely intellectual, produce by their aflbciated influence over the organs of fpeech. That delirious perfons have fuch trains forced upon the eye from internal caufes, appears pro- bable from hence ; that when they firft begin to be delirious and talk wildly, it is generally at thofe times only when they are in the dark, fo as to have all vifible objects excluded : for upon bringing a candle to them, and prefenting common ob- jects, they recover themfelves, and talk rationally till the candle be removed again. From hence we may conclude, that the real objects over- power the vifible train from internal caufes, while the delirium is in its infancy ; and that the patient relapfes as foon as he is fhut up in the dark, becaufe the vifible train from internal caufes overpowers that which would rife up, was the perfon's nervous fyftem in a natural ftate, ac- cording to the ufual courfe of aflbciation and the recurrent recollection of the place and circum- flances in which he is fituated. By degrees the vifible train from internal caufes, grows fo vivid by the increafe of the diftemper, as even to over- power the impreflions from real objects, at lead frequently and in a great degree, and fo as to in- termix 190 DELIRIUMS. termix itfelf with them, and to make an iucon- fiftency in the words and actions : and thus the patient becomes quite delirious. Perfons inclining to be delirious in diftempers, are moft apt to be fo going to fleep, and in wa- king from ileep ; in which circumftances the vi- fible trains are more vivid than when we are quite awake. It cafts alfo fome light on this fubjeft, that tea and coffee will fometimes occafion fuch trains ; and that they arife in our firft attempts to fleep after thofe liquors. As death approaches, the deliriums attending difeafes abound with far more incoherencies and inconfiftencies than any other fpecies of aliena- tions of the mind, the natural refult of the en- tire diforder of the nervous fyftem. However, there are fome cafes of death where the nervous fyftem continues free from difordejr to the laft, as far as the by-ftanders can judge. HARTLEY. DELUGE, THAT ever the whole globe was at one time totally overflowed with water, is phyfically im- poflible. The fea may have covered all parts fuc- ceffively one after the other j and this could be only in a gradation fo very flow, as to take up a pro- DELUGE. igi prodigious number of ages. The fea, in the fpace of five hundred years, has withdrawn from Aigues- mortes, from Frejus, and from Ravenna, once large ports, leaving about two leagues of land quite dry. This progreflion mows, that to make the circuit of the globe, it would require two millions two hundred thoufands years. A very remarkable circumftance is, that this period comes very near to that which the earth's axis would take up in raifing itfelf again and coinciding with the equator. A motion fo far from improbable, that for thefe fifty years paft fome apprehenfion has been entertained of it ; but it cannot be accomplifhed under two millions three hundred thoufand years. The ftrata or beds of (hells* every where found, fixty, eighty, and even a hun- dred leagues from die fea, prove beyond all dif- pute, that it has infenfibly depofited thofe mari- time products on ground which was once its mores : but that the water at one and the fame time covered the whole earth, is a phyfical abfurdity, which the laws of gravitation, as well as thofe of .fluids, and the deficiency of the quantity of water, demonftrates to be impoflible. The univerfal deluge was a miracle. VOLTAIRE. DES- 192 DESTINY. DESTINY. THE world fubfifts either by its own nature, by its phyfical laws, or a Supreme Being has formed it by his primitive laws. In either cafe thefe laws are immutable ; in either cafe every thing is neceflary. Heavy bodies gravitate to- wards the centre of the earth, and cannot tend to remain in the air ; pear-trees can never bear pine-apples ; the inftinct of a fpaniel can never be the inftinft of an oftrichj every thing is arran- ged, fet in motion, and limited. Man can have but a certain number of teeth, hair, and ideas ; and a time comes when he neceflarily lofes them. It is a contradiction that what was yefter- day has not been, and what is to-day mould not be : No lefs a contradiction is it that a thing which is to be fhould not come to pafs. If thou could give a turn to the deftiny of a fly, I fee no reafon why thou mighteft not as well determine the deftiny of all other flies, of all other animals, of all men, and of all nature ; fo that at laft thou wouldft be more powerful than God him- felf. It is common for weak people to fay, Such a phyfician has cured a perfon of a dangerous illnefs ; he has added to his life ten years. Others as weak, but in their own opinion very wife, fay, The prudent man owes his fortune to him- i felf. DESTINY. 193 felf. But the prudent man oftentimes is crufhed by his deftiny, inftead of making it : it is their deftiny that renders men prudent. The phy- fician has faved a perfon ; allowed : But herein he certainly did not reverfe the order of nature ; he conformed to it. It is evident that the perfon could not hinder his being born in fuch a town, and having a certain illnefs at fuch a time , that the phyfician could be no where but in the town where he was ; that the perfon was to fend for him ; and that he was to prefcribe thofe medicines which effe&ed the cure. A peafant imagines that the hail which is fallen in his ground is purely matter of chance : but the philofopher knows that there is no fuch thing as chance ; and that by the conftitution of the world, it muft ne- ceflarily have hailed that day in that very place. Some, alarmed at this truth, fay there are necef- fary events, and others which are not fo : but it would be odd indeed that one part of this world were fixed and not the other ; that fome things which happen were to happen, and that others which happen were not neceffarily to happen. On a clofe examination, the doctrine which oppofes that of deftiny muft appear loaded with abfufdities, and contrary to the idea of an eter- nal Providence. But many are deftined to reafon wrongly; others not to reafon at all; and others to perfecute thofe who do reafon. VOLTAIRE. VOL. I. R f D I S- J94 DISCRETION. DISCRETION. THE quality the moft neceflary for the exe- cution of any ufeful enterprize is difcretion ,- by which we carry on a fafe intercourfe with others ; give due -attention to our own and to their charac- ter ; weigh each circumftance of the bufmefs which we undertake ; and employ the fureft and fafeft means for the attainment of any end or purpofe. To a Cromwe//, perhaps, or a De Retz> difcretion may appear an alderman-like virtue as Dr Swift calls it ; and being incompatible with thofe vaft designs to which their courage and ambition prompted them, it might really in them be a fault or imperfection. But in the conduct of ordinary life, no virtue is more requifite, not only to obtain fuccefs, but to avoid the moft fatal mifcarriages and difappointments. The greateft parts without it, as obferved by an elegant writer, may be fatal to their owner: as Polyphemus, deprived of his eye, was only the more expofed on account of his enormons ftrength and ftature. The beft character, indeed, were it not rather too perfect for human nature, is that which is not fwayed by temper of any kind ; but alter- nately employs enterprife and caution, as each is ufeful to the particular purpofe intended. Such is the excellence which St Evremond afcribes to JMarefcha! DISCRETION 195 Marefchal Turenne, who difplayed, every cam- paign as he grew older, more temerity in his military enterprifes ; and being now, from long experience, perfectly acquainted with every inci- dent in war, he advanced with greater firmnefs and fecurity in a road fo well known to him. Fabius, fays Machiavel, was cautious; Scrpio enterprifing : and both fucceeded ; becaufe the fi- tuation of Roman affairs, during the command of each, was peculiarly adapted to his genius ; but both would have failed had thefe fituations been reverfed. He is happy whofe circumftances fuit his temper ; but he is more excellent who can fuit his temper to any circumftances. HUME- DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER. IN matter we have no clear ideas of the fmtill- nefs of parts much beyond the fmalleft that occurs to any of our fenfes : and therefore when we talk of the divifibility of matter in infinitum^. though we have clear ideas of 'diviilon and divifibility, and have alfo clear ideas of parts made out of a whole by divifion ; yet we have but very obfcurc and confufed ideas of corpuicles or minute bodies fo to be divided, when by former divifious they are reduced to a fmallnefs much exceeding the perception of any of our fcnies : and ib all that R 2 we i$6 DIVISIBILITY. we have clear and diftincl: ideas of, >is of what divifion in general or abftractedly is, and the rela- tion of totum and pars : But of the bulk of the body, to be thus infinitely divided after certain progrefiions, I think we have no clear nor diftincl idea at all. For I aik any one, Whether taking the fmallefl atom of duft he ever faw, he has any diftincl: idea (bating ftill the number which con- cerns extenfion) betwixt the ioo,oooth, and the i,ooo,oooth part of it ? Or if he thinks he can refine his ideas to that degree without lofmg fight of them, let him add ten cyphers to each of thefe numbers. Such a degree of fmalnefs is not unreafonable to be fuppefed ; fince a divifion car- ried on fo far brings it no nearer the end of infinite divifion than the firft divifion in two halves does. I mud confefs, that I have no clear diftincl: ideas of the different bulk or extenfion of thofe bodies ; having but a very obfcure one of either of them. So that I think, when we talk of divifion of Bodies in infinitum, our ideas of their diftincl: bulks, which is the fubjecl: and foundation of divifion, comes after a little pro- grefiion to be confounded and almoft loft in obfcurity. For that idea which is to reprefent only bignefs, muft be very obfcure and confufed which we cannot diftinguifh from one ten times as big but only by number : So that we have clear diftinft ideas, we may fay, of ten and one, but no dif- DIVORCE. di flinch ideas of two fuch extensions. It is plain from hence, that when we talk of infinite divi- fibility of body or extenfion, our diftint and clear ideas are only of numbers. LocKE- DlVORCE AND REPUDIATION: THERE is this difference between a divorce and a repudiation, that the former is made by mutual confent arifing from a mutual antipathy ; while the latter is formed by the will and for the advantage of one of the two parties, indepen- dently of the will and advantage of the other. The neceflity there is fometimes for women to repudiate, and the difficulty there always is in doing it, render that law very tyrannical which gives this right to men, without granting it to women. A hufband is the mafter of the houfe ; he has a thoufand ways of confining his wife to her duty, or of bringing her back to it : So that, in his hands, it feems as if repudiation could be only a frefh abufe of power*. But a wife who repudiates, only makes ufe of a dreadful kind of remedy. It is always a great misfortune for her to go in fearch of a fecond hufband, when {he has loft the moft part of her attractions with another* One of the advantages attending the charms of youth in the female fex is, that in an R 3 advan* ip8 DIVORCE. advanced age the hufband is led to complacency and leve by the remembrance of paft pleafures. It is, then, a general rule, that in all countries where the laws have given to men the power of repudiating, they ought alfo to grant it to women. Nay, in climates where women live in domeftic flavery, one would think that the law ought to favour women with the right of repudiation, and hufbands only with that of divorce. When wives are confined in a feraglio, the hufband ought not to repudiate on account of an oppofition of manners ; it is the hufband's fault if their manners are incompatible. Repudiation on account of the barrennefs of the woman ought never to take place but where there are many : this is of no importance to the hufband. The law of the Maldivians permitted them to take a wife whom they had repudiated. A law of Mexico forbad their being reunited under pain of death. The law of Mexico was more rational than that of the Maldivians : at the time even of the diiTolution, it tended to the perpe- tuity of marriage. Inftead of this, the law of the Maldivians feemed equally to fport with marriage and repudiation. The law of Mexico admitted only of divorce. This was a particular realon for their net per- mitting thofe who were voluntarily feparated to be DIVORCE. 199 be ever reunited. Repudiation feems chiefly to proceed from a haftinefs of temper, and from the dictates of paffion ; while divorce appears to be an affair of deliberation. Divorces are frequently of great political ufe : but as to the civil utility, they are eftablifhed only for the advantage of the hufband and wife ; and are not always favourable to their children. MoNTESQJJIEUr DOTAGE. TH E dotage of old pejfons is oftentimes fome- thing more than a mere decay of memory : For they miftake things prefent for others ; and their difcourfe is often foreign to the objects that are prefented to them. However, the imperfection of their memories, in refpect of impreflions juft made, or at fhort intervals of paft time, is one principal fource of their miflakes. One may fuppofe here, that the part of the brain which receives ideas is decayed in a peculiar manner, perhaps from too great ufe ; while the parts appro- priated to the natural, vital, and animal motions, remained tolerably perfect. The fmufes of the brain are probably confiderably diilended in thefe cafes, and the brain itfelf in a languishing ilate ; for there feems to be a confiderable refemblance between the inconuftencies of fome kinds of do- DOTAGE. dotage and thofe of dreams. Befides which, it may be obferved, that in dotage the perfon is often fluggifh and lethargic ; and that as a defect of the nutritive faculty in the brain will permit the finufes to be more eafily diftended, fo a dif- tenfion of the finufes from this or any other caufe may impede the due nutrition of the brain. We fee that in old perfons all the parts, even the bones themfeives, wafte and grow lefs. Why may not this happen to the brain, the origin of all, and arife from an obftruction of the infinitely fmall veflels of the nervous fyftem ; this obftruc- tion caufing fuch a degree of opacity, as greatly to abate, or even deftroy, the powers of afibciation and memory ? When old perfons relate the inci- dents of their youth v/ith great precifion, it is rather owing to the memory of many preceding memories, recollections, and relations, than to the memory of the thing itfelf. HARTLEY. DREAMS. WE have many ftriking inftances of dreaming in men and animals. The poet verfifies, the ma- thematician views figures, the metaphyfician rea- fons, and the dog hunts in his dreams. Is this the ation of the body's organs, or is it merely the foul, which, now freed from the power of die fenfes, DREAM s. 201 fenfes, acts in the full enjoyment of its pro- perties ? If the organs alone produce our dreams by night, why not our ideas by day ? If it be merely the foul adding of itfelf, and quiet by the fufpenfion of the fenfes, which is the only caufc and fubjecl: of all our fleeping ideas; whence is It that they are almoft ever irrational, irregular, and incoherent ? Can it be that, in the time of the foul's moft abftratl quietude, its imagination would be the moft confufed ? Is it fantaftical when free ? Were it born with metaphyfical ideas, as fome writers, who were troubled with waking dreams, have affirmed, its pure and luminous ideas of being, of infinitude, and of all primary prin- ciples, naturally mould awake in her with the greateft energy when the body is fleeping, and men mould philofophife bed in their dreams Whatever fyftem you efpoufe, however you may labour to prove that memory ftirs the brain, and your brain your foul ; you muft allow that, in all your ideas in fleep, you are entirely paf- five ; your will has no (hare in thofe images. Thus it is clear, that you can think feven or eight hours on a ftretch, without having the leaft inclination to think, and even without being cer- tain that you do think. Confider this, and tell me what is man's compound ? Superftition has always dealt much in dreams; nothing, indeed, was more natural. A man deeply concerned about 202 DREAMS. about his miftrefs who lies ill, dreams that he fees her dying ; and the next day fhe actually dies : then, to be fure, God had given him pre- vious knowledge of his beloved's death. A com- mander of an army dreams much of gaining a battle ; gains it : then the gods had intimated to him that he fhould be conqueror. It is only fuch dreams as meet with fome accomplifhment that are taken notice ofj the others \ve think not worth remembrance. Dreams make full as great a part of ancient hiftory as oracles. Somnia-qita ludunt animos voliiantibus umbris, Non delubra. deum> nee ab athere numina mittitnt t Sedfua quifquefacit. VOLTAIRE. FEMALE DRESS. IT is well known that a loofe and eafy drefs contributes much to give both fexes thofe fine proportions of body that are obfervable in the Grecian ftatues, and which ferve as models to our prefent artifts ; nature being too much disfigured among us to afford them any fuch. The Greeks knew nothing of thofe Gothic fhackles, that multiplicity of ligatures and bandages, with which our bodies are comprefled. Their women were ignorant of the ufe of whalebone (lays, by which ours diftort their fhape inftead of difplaying it. This. E S S. 203 This practice, carried to fo great anexcefs as it is in England, muft in time degenerate the fpecies, and is an inftance of bad tafte. Can it be a plea- fmg fight to behold a woman cut in two in the middle, as it were, like a wafp ? on the contrary, it is as fnocking to the eye as it is painful to the imagination. A fine (hape, like the limbs, hath its due fize and proportion; a diminution of which is certainly a defect. Such a deformity alfo would be {hocking in a naked figure ; wherefore then mould it be efteemed a beauty in one that is drefied ? Every thing that confines and lays na- ture under a reflraint, is an inftance of bad tafte: This is as true in regard to the ornaments of the body as to the embellifhments of the mind. Life, health, reafon, and convenience, ought to be taken firft into confideration. Gracefulnefs cannot fubfift without eafe; delicacy is not debility - r nor muft a woman be fick in order to pleafe. In- firmity and ficknefs may excite our pity ; but tlefire and pleafure require the bloom and vigour of health. ROUSSEAU. DURATION. IT is evident to any one who will but obferve what pafles in his own mind, that there is a train of ideas which conftantly fucceed one ano- ther in his underftanding as long as he is awake. Re- 204 , DURATION-. Reflection on thefe appearances of feveral ideas, one after another in our minds, is that which furnifhes us with the idea of fuccejfion : and the diflance between any parts of that fucceffion, or between the appearance of any two ideas in our minds, is that we call duration. For whilft we are thinking, or whilft we receive fucceffively fe- veral ideas in our mind, we know that we do exift, and fo we call the exiftence, or the com- tinuation of the exiftence of ourfelves, or any thing elfe, commenfurate to the fucceffion of any ideas in our minds, the duration of ourfelves, or any other thing coexifting with our thinking. That we have our notion of fucccjjlon and du~ ration from this original, viz. from reflection on the train of ideas, which we find to appear one after another in our own minds, feems plain to me, in that we have no perception of duration, but by confidering the train of ideas that take their turns in our underftanding. When that fucceffion of ideas ceafes, our perception of du- ration ceafes with it; which every one clearly experiences in himfelf whilft he fleeps foundly, whether an hour, or a day, or a month, or a year; of which duration of things, whilft he fleeps, or thinks not, he has no perception at all, but it is quite loft to him ; and the moment where- in he leaves off" to think, until the moment he begins to think again, feems to him to have no diftance. DURATION. diftance. And fo I doubt not but it will be to a waking man, if it were poflible for him to keep only one idea in his mind, without variation, and the fucceflion of others. And we fee, that one who fixes his thoughts very intently on one thing, fo as to take but little notice of the fuc- ceflion of ideas that pafs in his mind whilil he is taken up with that earned contemplation, lets flip out of his account a good part of that duration, and thinks that time fhorter than it is. But if fleep commonly unites the diftant parts of dura- tion, it is becaufe during that time we have no fucceflion of ideas in our minds. For if a man during his fleep dreams, and variety of ideas make themfelves perceptible in his mind one after another, he hath then, during fuch a dreaming, a fenfe of duration, and of the length of it. By which it is to me very clear, that men derive their ideas of duration from their reflection on the train gf the ideas they obferve to fucceed one another in their own underftandings ; without which ob- fervation they can have no notion of duration, whatever may happen in the world. LOCKE, VOL. I. S . f E. 206 ECCLESIATICAL POWER. E. ECCLESIASTICAL POWER AND ITS INFLUENCE. TN all Chriftian churches the benefices of the clergy are a fort of freeholds, which they en- joy, not during pleafure, but during life or good behaviour. If they held them by a more preca- rious tenure, and were liable to be turned out upon every flight difobligation either of the So- vereign or of his minifters, it would perhaps be impoflible for them to maintain their authority with the people; who would then confider them as mercenary dependents upon the court, in the fmcerity of whofe inftruclions they could no longer have any confidence. But (hould the So- vereign attempt irregularly, and by violence, to deprive Any number of clergymen of their free- holds ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 207 holds on account perhaps of their having pro- pagated, with more than ordinary zeal, fome factious or feditious doctrine; he would only render by fuch perfecution both them and their doctrine ten times more popular, and therefore ten times more troublefome and dangerous than they had been before. Fear is in almoil all cafes a wretched inftrument of govsrnment, and ought in particnlar never to be employed againft any order of men who have the fmalleft pretenfions to independency. To attempt to terrify them, ferves only to irritate their bad humour, and to confirm them in an oppofition, which more gentle ufage perhaps might eafily induce them either to foften or to lay afide altogether. The violence which the French government ufually employed in order to oblige all their parliaments, or fove- reign courts of juftice, to enregifter any unpopu- lar edict, very feldom fucceeded. The means commonly employed, however, the imprifonment of all the refractory members, one would think were forcible enough. The princes of the houfe of Stuart fometimes employed the like means in order to influence fome of the members of the Parliament of England; and they generally found them equally intractable. The Parliament of England is now managed in another manner ; and a very fmall experiment which the Duke of Choifeul made about twelve years ago upon tho S 2 ' Par- 208 ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. Parliament of Paris, demonftrated fufficiently that all the Parliaments of France might have been managed ftill more eafily in the fame man- ner. That experiment was not purfued. For though management and perfuafion are always the eafieft and the fafeft inflruments of govern- ment, as force and violence are the worfl and the moft dangerous j yet fuch, it feems, is the natural infolence of man, that he almoft always difdains to ufe the good inftrument, except when he can- not or dare not ufe the bad one. The French go- vernment could and durft ufe force, and there- fore difdained to ufe management and perfuafion. But there is no order of men, it appears, I believe, from the experience of all ages, upon whom it is fo dangerous, or rather fo pefeHy ruinous, to employ force and violence, as upon the refpe&ed clergy of any eftablifhed church. The rights, the privileges, die perfonal liberty of every individual ecclefiaftic who is upon good terms with his own order, are even in the moft defpotic governments more refpedted than thofe of any other perfon of nearly equal rank and fortune. It is fo in every gradation of defpotifm, from that of the gentle, and mild government of Paris, to that of the vio- lent and furious government of Conftantinople. But though this order of men can fcarce be ever . forced, they may be managed as eafily as any other; and the fecurity of the Sovereign, as well as the public ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 209 public tranquillity, fecms to depend very much upon the means which he has of managing them j and thofe means feem to confift altoge- ther in the preferment which he has to beftow upon them. In the ancient conftitution of the Chriftian church,, the bifhop of each diocefe was elected by the joint votes of the clergy and of the people of the Epifcopal city. The people did not long re- tain their right of election ; and while they did retain it, they almoft always acted under the in- fluence of the clergy, who in fuch fpiritual matters appeared to be their natural guides. The clergy, however, foon grew weary of the trouble of ma- naging them, and found it eafier to elect their own biihops themfclves. The abbot in the fame manner was elected by the monks of the mona- ftery, at leafl in the greater part of abbacies'. Ail the inferior ecclefiaftical benefices comprehended within the diocefe were collated by the bifhop, who bellowed them upon fuch ecclefiaftlcs as ha thought proper. All church preferments were in this manner in the difpofal of the church. The Sovereign, though he might have fome indirect influence in thofe elections, and though it \v?s fometimes ufual to aik. both his confent to dec i , and his approbation of the election, yet had ID direct or fufficient means of managing the clergy. The ambition of every .clergyman naturally led * S 3 ' hi 2io ECCLESIASTICAL POWER, him to pay court, not fo much to his Sovereign, as to his own order, from which only he could expect preferment. Through the greater part of Europe the Pope gradually drew to himfelf, firft the collation of almoft all bHhoprics and abbacies, or of what were called Confiftorial benefices; and afterwards, by various machinations and pretences, of the greater part of inferior benefices comprehended within each diocefe ; little more being left to the bifhop than \vhat was barely neceflary to give him a decent authority with his own clergy. By this arrangement the condition of the Sovereign was dill worfe than it had been before. The clergy of all the different countries of Europe were thus formed into a fort of fpiritual army, difperfed in different quarters indeed, but of which all the movements and operations could now be directed by one head, and conducted upon one uniform plan. The 'clergy of each particular country might be confidered as a par- ticular detachment of that army, of which the operations could eafily be fupported and feconded by all the other detachments quartered in the different countries round about. Each detatch- ment was not only independent of the Sovereign of the country in which it was quartered, and by which it was maintained, but dependent upon a foreign fovereign, who could at any time turn its arms ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 211 arms againft the Sovereign of that particular country, and fupport them by the arms of all die other detachments. Thofe arms were the moft formidable that can well be imagined. In the ancient flate of Europe, before the eftablimment of arts and manufactures, the wealth of the clergy gave them the fame fort of influence over the common people, which that of the great barons gave them over their re- fpective vaiTals, tenants, and retainers. In the great landed eftates, which the miftaken piety both of princes and private perfons had beftowed upon the church, jurifcliclions were eftablifhed of the fame kind with thofe of the great barons ; and for the fame reafon. In thofe great landed eftates, the clergy, or their bailiffs, could eaiily keep the peace without the fupport or affiftance either of the King or of any other perfon ; and neither the King nor any other perfon could keep the peace there without the fupport and affiftance of the clergy. The jurifdictions of the clergy, therefore, in their particular baronies or manors, were equally independent, and equally exclufive of the authority of the King's courts, as thofe of the great temporal lords. The tenants of the clergy were, like thofe of the great barons, almoft all tenants at will, entirely dependent upon their immediate lords j and therefore liable to be called out at pleafure, in order to fight in any quarrel in ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. ' in which the clergy might think proper to engage them. Over and above the rents of thofe eftates, the clergy poffeffed, in the tythes, a very large portion of the rents of all the other eftates in every kingdom of Europe. The revenues arifmg from both thofe fpecies of rents were, the greater part of them, paid in kind, in corn, wine, cattle, poultry, &c. The quantity exceeded greatly what the clergy could themfelves confume ; and there were neither arts nor manufactures for the produce of which they could exchange the fur- plus. The clergy could derive advantage from this immenfe furplus in no other way than by em- ploying it, as the great barons employed the like furplus of their revenues, in die moil profufe hofpitality and in the moft extenfive charity. Both the hofpitality and the charity of the ancient clergy, accordingly, are faid to have been very great. They not only maintained almoft the whole poor of every kingdom, but many knights and gentlemen had frequently no other means of fubfiitence than by travelling about from mona- ftery to monaftery, under pretence of devotion, but in reality to enjoy the hofpitality of the clergy. The retainers of fome particular prelates were often as numerous as thofe of the greateft lay- lords ; and the retainers of all the clergy taken together were, perhaps, more numerous than thofe of all the lay lords. There was always much ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 213 much more union among the clergy than among the lay-lords. The former were under a regular difcipline and fubordination to the papal autho- rity : The latter were under no regular difcipline or fubordination, but almoft always equally jealous of one another, and of the King. Though the tenants and retainers of the clergy, there- fore, had both together been lefs numerous than thofe of the great lay lords, and their tenants were probably much lefs numerous ; yet their union would have rendered them more formi- dable. Thehofpitality and charity of the clergy, too, not only gave them the command of a great temporal force, but increafed very much the weight of their fpiritual weapons. Thofe virtues procured them the higheft refpecl: and veneration among all the inferior ranks of people j of whom many were conftantly, and almoft all occafion- ally, fed by them. Every thing belonging or re- lating to fo popular an order, its pofleflions, its privileges, its doctrines, neceflarily appeared facred in the eyes of the common people j and every violation of them, whether real or pre- tended, the higheft al of facrilegious wickednefs and profanenefs. In this ftate of things, if the Sovereign frequently found it difficult to refift the confederacy of a few of the great nobility, we cannot wonder that he mould find it ftill more fo to refift the united force of the clergy of his own 214 ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. own dominions, fupported by that of the clergy of all the neighbouring dominions. In fuch cir- cumftances, the wonder is, not that he was fome- times obliged to yield, but that he ever was able torefift. The privileges of the clergy in thofe ancient times (which to us who live in the prefent times appear the moft abfurd), their total exemption from the fecular jurifdiftion, for example, or what in England was called the benefit of clergy, were the natural or rather the neceflary confe- quences of this ftate of things. How dangerous muft it have been for the Sovereign to attempt to punifh a clergyman for any crime whatever, if his own order v/ere difpofed to protect him, and to reprefcnt either the proof as infufficient for convicting fo holy a man, or the punimment as too fevere to be inflicted upon one -whofe perfon had been rendered facred by religion ? The So- vereign could, in fuch circumflances, do no bet- ter than leave him to be tried by the ecclefiafti- cal courts ; who, for the honour of their own order, were interefted to reftrain, as much as poffible, every member of it from committing enormous crimes, or even from giving occafion to fuch grofs fcandal as might difguft the minds of the people. In the ftate in which things were through the greater part of Europe during the tenth, eleventh, twelfth s ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 215 twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, and for fome time both before and after that period, the con- flit ution of the church of Rome may be con- fidered as the moft formidable combination that ever was formed againft the authority and fecu- rity of civil government, as well as againft the liberty, reafon, and happinefs of mankind, which can flourifli only where civil government is able to protect them. In that conftitution, the grofleft delufions of fuperftition were fupported in fuch a manner by the private interefts of fo great a number of people, as put them out of all danger from any aflault of human reafon : becaufe though human reafon might perhaps have been able to unveil, even to the eyes of the common people, fome of the delufions of fuperftition ; it could never have diflblved the ties of private intereft. Had this conftitution been attacked by no other enemies but the feeble efforts of human reafon, it mufhhave endured for ever. But that immenfe and well-built fabric, which all the wifdom and virtue of man could never have fhaken, much lefs have overturned, was, by the natural courfe of things, firft weakened, and afterwards in part deftroyed ; and is now likely, in the courfe of a few centuries more, perhaps, to crumble into ruins altogether. The gradual improvements of arts, manufac- tures, and commerce, the fame caufes which de- 2i<5 ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. deftroyed the power of the great barons, deftroyed in the lame manner, through the greater part of Europe, the whole temporal power of the clergy. In the produce of arts, manufactures, and com- merce, the clergy, like the great barons, found fomething for which they could exchange their rude produce ; and thereby difcovered the means of fpending their whole revenues upon their own perfons, without giving any confiderable (hare of them to other people. Their charity became gradually lefs extenfive, their hofpitality lefs liberal or lefs profufe. Their retainers became confequently lefs numerous, and by degrees dwindled away altogether. The clergy, too, like the great barons, wifhed to get a better rent from their landed eftates, in order to fpend it, in the fame manner, upon the gratification of their own private vanity and folly. But this increafe of rent could be got only by granting leafes to their tenants ; who thereby became in a great meafure independent of them. The ties of intereft, which bound the inferior ranks of people to the clergy, were in this manner gradually broken and dii- folved. They were even broken and dijTolved fooner than thofe which bound the fame ranks of people to the great barons : becaufe the bene- fices of the church being, the greater part of them, much fmaller than the eftates of the great barons, the pofieflbr of each benefice was much 2 foon- ECGLESlAStlCAL o\VER. fooner able to fpend the whole of its revenue upon his own perfon. During the greater part of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the power of the great barons was, through the greater part of Europe, in full vigour. But the temporal power of the clergy, the abfolute command which they had once had over the gfeat body of the people, was very much decayed. The power of the church was by that time very nearly reduced through the greater part of Europe to what arofe from her fpiritual authority ; and even that fpi- vitual authority was much weakened when it eeafed to be fupported by the charity and hofpita- lity of the clergy. The inferior ranks of people no longer looked upon that order, as they had done before, as the comforters of their diftrefs, and the relievers of their indigence. On the contrary, they were provoked and difgufted by the vanity, luxury, and expence of the richer clergy, who appeared to fpend upon their own pleafures what had always before been regarded as the patrimony of the poor. In this fituation of things, the fovereigns in the different ftates of Europe endeavoured to re- cover the influence which they had once had in the difpofal of the great benefices of the church, by procuring to the deans and chapters of each diocefe the reiteration of their ancient right of electing the bifhop, and to the monks of each VOL. L T ab- 2i8 ECCLESIASTICAL PO\VER abbacy that of electing the abbot. The re-efta- blifhing of this ancient order was the object: of feveral ftatutes enacted in England during the courfe of the fourteenth century, particularly of what is called the Statute of Provifors; and of the Pragmatic Sanction eftablifhed in France in the fifteenth century. In order to render the election valid, it was neceffary that the Sovereign fliould both confent to it before-hand, and afterwards approve of the perfon elected; and though the election was flill fuppofed to be free, he had, however, all the indirect means which his fitua- tion neceflarily afforded him, of influencing the clergy in his own dominions. Other regulations of a fimilar tendency were eflablimed in other parts of Europe. But the power of the Pope in the collation of the great benefices of the church feems, before the Reformation, to have been no where fo effectually and fo univerfally reftrained as in France and England. The Concordat af- terwards, in the fixteenth century, gave to the kings of France the abfolute right of prefenting to all the great, or what are called the Confifto- lial, benefices of the Gallican church. Since the eftablifhment of the Pragmatic fanc- tion and of the Concordat, the- clergy of France have in general mown lefs refpedl: to the decrees of the Papal court than the clergy of any other Catholic country. In all the difputes which their .So- ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. 219 Sovereign has had with the Pope, they have al- moft conftantly taken party with the former. This independency of the clergy of France upon the court of Rome, feems to be principally founded upon the Pragmatic fanclion and the Concordat. In the earlier periods of the monarchy, the clergy of France appear to have been as much devoted to the Pope as thofe of any other country. When Robert > the fecond Prince of the Capetian race, was molt unjuftly excommunicated by the court of Rome, his own fervants, it is faid, threw the victuals which came from his table to the dogs, and refufed to tafle any thing themfelves which had been polluted by the contact of a perfon in his fituation. They were taught to do fo, it may very fafely be prefumed, by the clergy of his own dominions. ^ The claim of collating to the great benefices of the church, a claim in defence of which the court of Rome had frequently {haken, and fome- times overturned, the thrones of fome of the greatefl fovereigns in Chriftendom, was in this manner either retrained or modified, or given up altogether, in many different parts of Europe, even before the time of the Reformation. As the clergy had now lefs influence over the people, fo the ftate had more influence over the clergy. The clergy therefore had both lefs power and lefs inclination tb diflurb the {late. The au- T 2 thority 220 ECCLESIASTICAL POWER. tlicrity of the church of Rome was in this ftate 01 declenfipn at the time of the Reformation. A. SMITH. THE ADVANTAGE OF UNITING THE ClVIL AND ECCLESIASTICAL POWERS IN EVERY GOVERNMENT. THE union of the civil and ecdeGaftical powers ferves extremely in every civilized government to the maintenance of peace and order, and prevents thofe mutual encroachments which, as there can be no ultimate judge between them, ai - e often attended with the moft dangerous confequences, Whether the fupreme magiftrate who unites thefe powers, receives the appellation of Prince or Pre- late, it is not material. The fuperior weight which temporal interefts commonly bear in the apprehenfions of men above fpiritual, renders the civil part of his character moft prevalent ; and in time prevents thofe grofs impoftures and bigotted perfecutions which in all falfe religions are the chief foundation of clerical authority. HUME. ECONOMY. THE purfuit of the objects of private intereft in all common, little, and ordinary cafes, ought to flow rather from a regard to the general rules which prefcribe fuch conduct, than from any paf- E C O N O MT. pafTion for the objects themfelves. To be anxious,, or to be laying a plot either to gain or fave a (ingle ihilling, would degrade the moft vul- gar tradefman in the opinion of all his neigh- bours. Let his circumftances be ever fo mean, no attention to any fuch fmall matters, for the fake of the things themfelves, muft appear in his conduct. His fituation may require the moft fe vere economy, and the moft exact affiduity ; but each particular exertion of that economy and af- fiduity muft proceed, not fo much from a regard to that particular faving or gain, as from the gene- ral rule which to him prefcribes, with theutmoft rigour, fuch a tenor of conduct. His parfimony to-day muft not arife from a defire of the parti- cular three-pence which he will fave by it ; nor his attendance in his fliop from a paflion for the par,- ricular ten-pence which he will acquire by it : both the one and the other ought to proceed folely from a regard to the general rule, which prefcribes with the moft unrelenting feverity this plan of conduct to all perfons in his way of life. In this confifts the difference between the cha- racter of' a mifer and that of a perfon of exact economy and affiduity. The one is anxious about fmall matters for their own fake j the other at- tends to them only in confequence of the fcheme of 'life which he has laid down to himfelf. A. SMITH,. T 3 222 EDUCATION. EDUCATION. THE time which we ufually beftow on the in- ftru&ion of our children in principles, the rea- fons of which they do not underftand, is worfe than loft : it is teaching them to refign their fa- culties to authority ; it is improving their me- mories inftead of their underftandings ; it is gi- ving them credulity inftead of knowledge ; and it is preparing them for any kind of flavery which can be impofed on them. Whereas, if we affifted them in making experiments on themfelves j induced them to attend to the confequence of every ation, to adjuft their little deviations, and fairly and freely to exercife their powers; they would collect facls which nothing could contro- vert. Thefe facts they would depofite in their memories as in fecure and eternal treafures; ihey would be materials for reflection, and in time be formed into principles of conduct, which no circumftances or temptations could remove. This would be a method of forming a man who would anfwer the end of his being, and make himfelf and others happy. WILLIAMS. EDUCATION. ON THE SAME SUBJECT. I F men were educated to ufe the powers of their minds freely j to inveftigate by their own induftry all the principles they want ; to confi- der nothing as an intellectual acquisition but in confequence of fuch inveftigation : this know- ledge would be a fure foundation of virtue, and human life would have few crimes or miferies to infefl it. Inftead of this, they are educated to take almoft every thing from others, and to fuf- fer their own powers to lie inaclive. Moft of the vices of the world have arifen from the habit men have fo long been in of believing inftead of inquiring. A mind that is trained to inquiry, is trained in a kind of activity which will lead to virtue. A mind in which this activity is fup- prefied, has a greater difficulty in becoming vir- tuous, and is a much eafier prey to vice. It feems to acquire knowledge, and has none ; and falfe knowledge is worfe than none. All the wifdom we obtain, by believing as we are commanded, and committing to memory principles, doctrines, and opinions, which we have never confidered or do not underftand, is fo much poifon in the mind, which acts the more furely and fatally as we have no apprehenfion of danger from it. We fee men overwhelmed with what they call doctrines and prm- principles both of religion and morality, without being of any ufe to the world,- and without ever performing a religious or moral action. It was not fo when men were educated to inquire, to think, to form to themfelvea a few principles \yhich they comprehended and felt, and to aft on them. This was the cafe in the beft ages of Greece. Education had a few fimple and im- portant objecls ; and they always related to pri- vate and public virtue. It underwent fome mo- difications, according to the circumflances of the different pupils. It would aftonifh a modern tu- tor to know the time and pains which were ta- ken on thefe few things ; and to fee what won- derful men were formed in this manner, Edu- cation was then the art of developing the mind to principles and employments which were fuited to it, and giving it habits which, would lead to any degree of real knowledge.. Education at prefent is a different thing : it is the art of loading the memory with the imperfect and ufelefs know- ledge of all languages and all fciences ; and our youth are often fent into the world without one. principle of real wifdom, and almoft incapable of any acl of public or private virtue* "WILLIAMS* EDUCATION. 22$ ON THE SAME SUBJECT. THE moft important and moft ufefu! rule of education is, not to gain time, but to lofe it. If children took a leap from their mother's breaft, ,;rul at once arrived at the age of reafon, the me- thods of education now ufually taken with them would be very proper : but according to the pro- grefs of nature, they require thofe which are very different. We mould not tamper with the mind till it has acquired all its faculties : for it is im- poflible it mould perceive the light we hold out to it while it is blind ; or that it Ihould purfue, over an immenfe plain of ideas, that route which reafon hath fo (lightly traced, as to be perceptible only to the marpeil fight. The firil part of education therefore ought to be purely negative. It confifts neither in teach- ing virtue nor truth ; but in guarding the heart from vice, and the mind from error. Take the road direUy oppofite to that which is in ufe, and you will almoft always do right. Never argue with a child, particularly in driving to reconcile him to what he diilikes : for to ufe him to reafon. only upon difagreeable fubjec"r,s, is the way to difguft him, and bring argument early into difV credit with a mind incapable of underftanding it. Exercife his corporeal organ?, fenfes, and facul- ties EDUCITJOK. ties as much as you pleafe ; but keep, his intellec- tual ones inactive as long as poflible. Be cau- tious of all the fentiments he acquires previous to the judgment which Ihould enable him to fcruti- nize them: Prevent or reftrain all foreign im- preflions ; and in order to hinder the rife of evil, be not in too great hurry to inftil good; for it is only fuch when the mind is enlightened by rea- fon. Look upon every delay as an advantage ; it is gaining a great deal, to advance without lofing any thing: let the infancy of children therefore have time to ripen. In ftiort, whatever inftruc- tion is neceffary for them, take care not to give it them to-day, if it may be deferred without dan- ger till to-morrow. Another confideration which confirms the utility of this method, is the particu- lar genius of the child ; which ought to be known before it can be judged what mora-l regimen is iJapted to it. Every mind has its peculiar turn, according to which it ought to be educated ; and it is of very material confequence to our endeavours that it be educated according to that turn, and not to any other. The prudent governor will watch a long time the workings of nature, and will lay the natural character under no unnecefiary rc- ftraints. If we fet about any thing before we know in what manner to a&,. we proceed at ran- dom ; liable to miftake, we are frequently obliged to undo what is done, and find ourfelves further from EDUCATION* 127 from the end defigned than if we had been lefs precipitate to begin the work. ROUSSEAU. ON THE SAME SUBJECT. IN the education of children, exceflive feverity, as well as exceflive indulgence, fhould be equally avoided. If you leave children to fufFer, you ex- pofe their health, endanger their lives, and make them actually miferable. On the .other hand, if you are too anxious to prevent their being fenfible of any kind of pain and inconvenience, you only pave their way to feel much greater : you ener- vate their conftitutions, make them tender and effeminate : in a word, you remove them out of their fituation as men, into which they muft hereafter return in fpite of all your folicitude. In order not to expofe them to the few evils na- ture would inflici on them, you provide for them many which .they would otherwife never have fuffered. Can you conceive any being can be truly happy in circumftances inconfiftent with its conftitu- tion ? And is it not inconfiftent with the confti- tution of man to endeavour to exempt him from all the evils incident to his fpecies ? Man is capa- citated to experience great pleafure only by be- ing inured to flight pain ; Such is the nature of 223 EDUCATION. ip.an. If his phyfical Conftitution be too vigo- rous, his moral conftitution tends to depravity. The man who fhould be ignorant of pain, would be a ftranger alfo to the fenfations of humanity, and the tender feelings of compamon for his fpe- cies: his heart would be unfufceptible of fympa- "chy ; he would be unfocial ; he would be a mon- fter among his fellow-creatures. Would you know the mod infallible way to make your child miferable ? It is to accuftom him to obtain every thing he defires : For thofe de* fires ftill increafing from the facility of gratifica- tion, your incapacity to fatisfy them mufl foonef or later reduce you to the neceflity of a refufal ; and that refufal, fo new and uncommon, will give him more trouble than even the want of that which he defires. From wanting your cane he will proceed to your watch ; he will next want the bird that flies in the air, the ftar that glitters in the firmament ; in fhort, every thing he fees : nothing Icfs than omnipotence would enable you to fatisfy it. Nature has contlituted children to claim our love and afliftance ; but has {he made them to be obeyed and feared ? A child mould obtain nothing merely becaufe he afks for it, but becaufe he {lands in need of it : A child mould be made to do no- thing out of obedience, but only out of neceffity. Thus the words ccmmand and obey mould have no a place EDUCATION. 229 place in his dictionary, much lefs thofe of duty and obligntim : but thofe of power, neccfllty, im- potence, and reftraint, ought to (land forth in ca- pitals. It ought to be obferved, that as pain is often a neceflity, fo plcafure is fometimes a natu- ral want. Children have therefore but one de- fire only which mould not be gratified ; and this is the defire of exacting obedience. Hence it follows, that in every thing they demand, it is the motive which excites them to make fuch demand which ought to engage our attention. Indulge them as much as poifible in every thing which may give them real pleafure; but conftanly refufe them what they require from motives of caprice, or merely to exercife their authority. ROUSSEAU. A COMPARATIVE VlE\V OF ANCIENT AND MODERN EDUCATION. DIFFERENT plans and different inflitutions for education feem to have taken place in different ages and nations. In the republics of ancient Greece, every free citizen was inftru&ed, under the direction of the public magiftrate, in gym- naftic exercifes and in mufic. By gymnaflic cx- ercifes it was intended to harden his body, to fharpen his courage, and to prepare him for the fatigues and dangers of warj and as the Greek militia was, by all accounts, one of the bed that VOL. I. f U ever 230 EDUCATION. ever was in the world, this part of their public education muft have anfwered completely the purpofe for which it was intended. By the other part, mufic, it was propofed, at leaft by the phi- lofophers and hiftorians who have given us an account of thofe inftitutions, to humanize the mind, to foften the temper, and to difpofe it for performing all the focial and moral duties both of public and private life. In ancient Rome, the exercifes of the Campus jMartius anfwered the fame purpofe as thofe of the Gymnafium in ancient Greece, and they feem to have anfwered it equally well. But among the Romans there was nothing which correfponded to the mufical education of the Greeks. The morals of the Romans, however, both in private and public life, feem to have been not only equal, but upon the whole a good deal fuperior, to thole of the Greeks. That they were fuperior in private life, we have the exprefs teftimony of Polybius and of Dionyfius of lialicarnaflus, two authors well acquainted with both nations ; and the whole tenor of the Greek and Roman hiftory bears witnefs to the fuperiority of the public mo- rals of the Romans. The good temper and mo- deration of contending factions feems to be the moft eflential circumllance in the public mo- rals of a free people. But the factions of die Greeks were almoil always violent and fangui- nary j EDUCATION. 231 nary: whereas, till the time of the Gracchi, no blood had ever been fhed in any Roman faction ; and from the time of the Gracchi the Roman re- public may be confidered as in reality diflblved. Notwithstanding, therefore, the very refpe&able authority of Plato, Ariftotle, and Polybius, and notwi'thltanding the very ingenious reafons by which Mr Montefquieu endeavours to fupport lhat authority, it feems probable that the muiical education of the Greeks had no great effel in mending their morals ; fince, without any fuch education, thofe of the Romans were upon the whole fuperior. The refpet of thofe ancient fages for the inftitutions of their anceftors, had probably difpofed them to find much political wifdom in what was, perhaps, merely an ancient cuftom, continued without interruption from the earlieft period of thofe focieties to' the times in which they had arrived at a confiderable de- gree of refinement. Mufic and dancing are the great amufements of almoft all barbarous na- tions, and the great accomplifhments which are fuppofed to fit any man for entertaining his fo- cicty. It is fo at this day among die negroes on the coaft of Africa. It was fo among the ancient Celtes, among the ancient Scandinavians, and, as we may learn from Homer, among the ancient Greeks in the times preceding the Trojan war. When the Greek tribes had formed themfelves U 2 into 232 EDUCATION. into little republics, it was natural that the ftudy of thofe accomplilhments fhould for a long time make a part of the public and common education of the people. The matters, who inftru&ed the young people either in mufic or in military exercifes, do not feem to have been paid, or even appointed by the flate, either in Rome, or even in Athens ; the Greek republic of whofe laws and cuftoms we are the beft informed. The ftate required that every free citizen mould fit himfelf for defending it in war, and fhould, upon that account, learn his military exercifes. But it left him to learn them of fucli mailers as he could find ; and it feems to have advanced nothing for this purpofe, but a. public field or place of exercife, hi which he ihould pradife and perform them. la the early ages both of the Greek and Ro- man republics, the other parts of education fcern to have confifted in learning to read, write, and aorount according to the arithmetic of die times- Thofe accomplifliments the richer citizens feem frequently to have acquired at home by the afBitance of fome domeflic pedagogue, who was generally either a flave or a freed-man ; and the poorer citizens, in the fchools of fuch mafters as made a trade of teaching for hire. Such parts of education, however, were abandoned altogether to the care of the parents or guardians of each in- EDUCATION. 233 individual. It does not appear that the ftate ever aflumed any infpeclion or direction of them. By a law of Solon, indeed, the children were ac- quitted from maintaining thofe parents in their old age who had neglected to initruct them in fome profitable trade or bufinefs. In the progrefs of refinement, when philofophy and rhetoric came into fafhion, the better fort of people ufed to fend their children to the fchools of philofophers and rhetoricians, in order to be inftrudted in thefe fafhionable fciences : But thofe fchools were not fupported by the public ; they v^ere for a long time barely tolerated by it. The demand for philofophy and rhetoric was. for a long time fo fmall, that the firft profeiTed teachers of either could not find conftant employment in any one city, but were obliged to travel about from place to place. In this manner lived Zeno of Elea, Protagoras, Gorgias, Hippias, and many others. As the demand increafed, the. fchools both of philofophy and rhetoric became ftation- ary; firft in Athens, and afterwards in feveral other cities. The ftate, however, feems never to have encouraged them further than by ailign- ing to fome of them a particular place to teach in, which was fometimes done too by private donors. The ftate feems to have affigned the Academy to Plato, the Lyceum to Ariftotle, and the Portico to Zeno of Citta the founder of the U 3 Stoics. 234 EDUCATION. Stoics. But Epicurus bequeathed his gardens tp his own fchool. Till about the time of Marcus Antoninus, however, no teacher appears to have had any fulary from the public, or to have had any other emoluments but what arofe from the honoraries or fees of his fcholars. The bounty which that philofophical emperor, as we learn from Lucian, beftowed upon one of the teachers of philofophy, probably laited no longer than his own life. There was nothing equivalent to the privileges of graduation ; and to have attended any of thofe fchools was not necefiary, in order to be permitted to prajflife any particular trade or pro- feflion. If the opinion of their own utility could not draw fcholars to them, the lav/ neither forced any body to go to them, nor rewarded any body for having gone to them. The teachers had no jurifdiftion over their pupils, nor any other au- thority befides that natural authority, which fu- perior virtue and abilities never fail to procure from young people, towards thofe who are en- trufted with any part of their education. At Rome, the ftudy of the civil law made a part of the education, not of the greater part of the citizens, but of fome particular families. The young people, however, who wifhed to ac- quire knowledge in the law, had no public fchool to go to, and had no other method of (tudying it, than by frequenting the company of fuch of their rela- E D U C A T I G N". 235 relations and friends as were fuppofed to under- fiand it. It is perhaps worth while to remark, that though the laws of the twelve tables were, many of them, copied from thofe of fome an- cient Greek republics, yet law never feems to have grown up to be a fcience in any republic of ancient Greece. In Rome it became a fcience very early, and gave a confidcrable degree of illuflration to thofe citizens who had die reputa- tion of underftanding it. In the republics of ancient Greece, particularly in Athens, the or- dinary courts of juftice confifted of numerous, and therefore disorderly, bodies of people, who frequently decided almoft at random, or as cla- mour, fadlion, and party-fpirit happened to de- termine. The ignominy of an unjuft decifion, when it was to be divided among five hundred, a thoufand, or fifteen hundred people (for fome of their courts were fo very numerous), could not fall very heavy upon any individual. At Rome, on the contrary, the principal courts of juftice confifted either of a fingle judge, or of a fmall number of judges, whofe characters, efpe- cially as they deliberated always in public, could not fail to be very much affected by any rafli or unjuft decifion. In doubtful cafes, fuch courts, from their anxiety to avoid blame, would na- turally endeavour to fhelter themfelves under the example, or precedent, of the judges who had fat EDUCATION*. fat before them, either in the fame or in feme other court. This attention to practice and precedent, neceffarily formed the Roman law into that regular and orderly fyftem in which it has been delivered down to us ; and the like at- tention has had the like effects upon the laws of every other country where fuch attention has taken place. The luperiority of character in the Romans over that of the Greeks, fo much re- marked by Polybius and Dionyfius of Halicar* naflus, was probably more owing to the better conftitutiori of their courts of juilice* than to any of the circumftances to which thofe authors afcribe it. The Romans are faid to have been particularly diflinguimed for their fuperior re- fpett to an oath. But the people who were ac- cuftomed to make oath only before feme diligent and well-informed court of juftice, would natu- rally be much more attentive to what they fwore, than they who were accuflomed to do the fame thing before mobbiili and diforderly affemblies. The abilities, both civil and military, of the Greeks and Romans, will readily be allowed to have been at lead equal to thofe of any modern nation. Our prejudice is perhaps rather to over- rate them. But except in what related to mi- litary exercifes, the ftate feems to have been .at no pains to form thofe great abilities : for I can- not be induced to believe that die jnufical educa- tion EDUCATION. 237 tion of the Greeks could be of much confequence in forming them. Matters, however, had been found, it feems, for inftru&ing the better fort of people among thofe nations in every art and fcience in which the circumftances of their fociety rendered it necefiary or convenient for them to be inftructed. The demand for fuch inftrudtion produced, what it always produces, the talent for giving it ; and the emulation which an un- reftrained competition never fails to excite, ap- pears to have brought that talent to a very high degree of perfection. In the attention which the ancient philofophers excited in the empire, which they acquired over the opinions and principles of their auditors, in the faculty which they poflefled of giving a certain tone and character to the con- duct and converfat.on of thofe auditors j they appear to have been much fuperior to any modern teachers. In modern times, the diligence of public teachers is more or lefs corrupted by the circumstances, which render them more or lefs independent of their fuccefs and reputation in their particular profemons. Their f.ilaries too put the private teacher, who would pretend tq come into competition with them, in the fame flate with a merchant who attempts to trade with- out a bounty, in competition with thofe who trade with a confiderable one. If he fells his goods U neatly the f-.mo price, lie cannot have the 238 EDUCATION. the fame profit; and poverty and beggary at loifl, if not bankruptcy and ruin, will infallibly be his lot. If he attempts to fell them" much dearer, he is likely to have fo few cuftomers that his cir- cumflances will not be much mended. The privileges of graduation, befules, are in many countries necefTary, or at leaft extrerhely con- venient, to moil men of learned profeiRons, that is, to the far greater part of thofe who have oc- cafion for a learned education. But thofe privi- leges can be obtained only by attending the lec- tures of the public teachers. The moft careful attendance upon the ableft inftru&ions of any pri- vate teacher cannot always give any title to de- mand them. It-is from thefe different caufes that the pvivf.tc tCnvliCr of ~r,V of iiic fcwilc3 WIOCH are commonly taught in univerfities, is in modern times generally confidered as in the very lowed order of men of letters. A man of real abilities can fcarce find out a more humiliating or a more unprofitable employment to turn them to. The endowments of felloes and colleges have, in this manner, not only corrupted die diligence of pub- lic teachers, but have rendered it almoit impof- fible to have any good private ones. Were there no public inftitutions for educa- tion, no fyftem, no fcience would be taught for which there was not fome demand ; or which the circumilances cf the times did not render it, ei- ther EDUCATION. 239 ther neceffary, or convenient, or at leaft fafliion- able to learn. A private teacher could never find his account in teaching, either an exploded and antiquated fyflem of a fcience acknowledged to be ufeful, or a feience univerfally believed to be a mere ufelefs and pedantic heap of fophiftry and nonfenfe. Such fyftems, fuch fciences, can fubfifl no where, but in thofe incorporated focieties for education whofe profperity and revenue are in a great meafure independent of their reputation, and altogether independent of their induftry. Were there no public inftitutions for education, a gentleman, after going through, with application and abilities, the mod complete courfe of edu- cation which the circumftances of the times were fuppofed to afford, could not come into the world completely ignorant of every thing which is the common fubject of converfation among gentle- men and men of the world. There are no public inftitutions for the edu- cation of women; and there is accordingly no- thing ufelefs, abfurd, or fantastical in the com- mon courfe of their education. They are taught what their parents or guardians judge it neceflary or ufeful for them to learn ; and they are taught nothing elfe. Every part of their education tends evidently to fome ufeful purpofe ; either to improve the natural attractions of their perfon, or to form their mind ta referve, to modefly, to chaftity, 2 40 EDUCATION. chaftity, and tooeconomy: to render them boiu likely to become the miftreffes of a family, and to behave properly when they have become fuch. In every part of her life, a woman feels fome con- veniency or advantage from every part of her edu- cation. It feldom happens that a man, in any part of his life, derives any conveniency or advantage from fome of the molt laborious and troublefome parts of his education. A. SMITH. ATTFNTION TO THE EDUCATION OF THE COMMON PEOPLE, INCUMBENT UPON THE PUBLIC. OUGHT the public to give no attention, it may be aflced, to the education of the people ? Or if it ought to give any, what are the different parts of education which it ought to attend to in the different orders of the people? and in what man- ner ought it to attend to them ? In fome cafes, the ft ate of the fociety neceflarily places the greater part of individuals in fuch fitu- ations as naturally form in them, without any at- tention of government, almoft all the abilities and virtues which that ftate requires, or perhaps can admit of. In other cafes, the ftate of the fociefy does not place the greater part of individuals in fuch fituations-, and fome attention of govern- 3 merit EDUCATION. 241 fnent is neceflary, in order to prevent the almofk entire corruption and degeneracy of the great body of the people. In the progrefs of the divifion of labour, the employment of the far greater part of thofe who live by labour, that is, of the great body of the people, comes to be confined to a few very fimple operations , frequently to one of two. But the under {landings of the greater part of men are ne- ceffarily formed by their ordinary employments. The man whofe whole life is fpent in performing a few fimple operations, of which the effects too are, perhaps, always the fame, or very nearly the fame, has no occafion to exert his underftaiiding, or to exercife his invention in finding out expe* dients for removing difficulties which never occur. He naturally lofes, therefore, the habit of fuch exertion, and generally becomes as ftupid and ig- norant as it is poffible for a human creature to be- come. The torpor of his mind renders him, not only incapable of relifhing or beating a part ifl any rational converfation, but of conceiving any generous, noble, or tender fentiment; and confe- quently of forming any juft judgment concerning many even of the ordinary duties of private life. Of the great and extenfive interefts of his coun- try, he is altogether incapable of judging; and unlefs very particular pains have been taken to render him otherwife, he is equally incapable of VOL. I. X f defend* 242 EDUCATION. defending his country in war. The uniformity of his ftationary life .naturally corrupts the courage of his mind, and makes him regard with abhor- rence the irregular, uncertain, and adventurous Mfe of a foldier. It corrupts even the activity of his body, and renders him incapable of exerting his ftrength with vigour and pe-rfeverauce in any other employment than that to which he has been bred. His dexterity at his own particular trade feems, in this manner, to be acquired at the ex- pence of his intellectual, focial, and martial vir- tues. But in every improved and ci-vilized ibc'iety this is the ftate in which the labouring poor, that is, the great body of the people, muft neceflarily fall, unlefs government takes fome pains to pre- vent it. It is otherwife in the barbarous focieties, as they are commonly called, of hunters, of fhepherds, and even of hufbandmen in that rude ftate of huf- bandry which precedes the improvement of Mna- rmfaclures, and the extenfion of foreign com- merce. In fuch focieties, the varied occupations of every man oblige every man to exert his capa- city, and to invent expedients for removing diffi- culties which are continually occurring. Inven- tion is kept alive, and the mind is not fuffered to fall into that drowfy ftupidity, which, in a civili- sed fociety, feems to benumb the understanding of almoft all the inferior ranks of people. In thofe bar- EDUCATION. 243 barbarous focieties, as they are called, every man> it has already been obferved, is a warrior. Every man too is in fome meafure a ftatefman, and can form a tolerable judgment concerning the intereft of the fociety, and the conduct of thofe who go- vern it. How far their chiefs are good judges in peace, or good leaders in- war, is obvious to the obfervation of aknoft every fingle man among them. In fuch a fociety, indeed, no man can well acquire that improved and refined underftanding, which a few men fometimes poffefs in a more ci- vilized ftate. Though in a rude fociety there is a good deal of variety in the occupations of every individual, there is not a great deal in thofe of the whole fociety. Every man does, or is capable of doing, almoft every thing which any other man does, or is capable of doing. Every man has a confiderable degree of knowledge, ingenuity, and invention; but fcar-ce any man has a great degree. The degree, however, which is commonly pof- fefled, is generally fufficient for conducting the whole fimple bufinefs of the fociety. In a civili- zed ftate, on the contrary, though there is little variety in the occupations of the greater part of individuals, there is an almoft infinite variety in' thofe of the whole fociety. Thefe varied occu- pations prefent an almoft infinite variety of ob- jects to the contemplation of thofe few, who, be- ing attached to no particular occupation them* X 2 fclves,, 2-44 EDUCATION. felves, have leifure and inclination to examine the occupations of other people. The contemplation of fo great a variety of objects necefiarily exer- cifes their minds in endlefs comparifons and com-p binations, and renders their underftandings, in an extraordinary degree, both acute and comprehen- five. Unlefs thofe few, however, happen to be placed in fome very particular filiations, their great abilities, though honourable to themfelves, may contribute very little to the good government or happinefs of their fociety. Nothwithftanding the great abilities of thcfe few, all the nobler parts of the human character may be, in a great rnea- fure, obliterated and extinguifhed in.the great body of the people.. The education of the common people requires, perhaps, in a civilized and commercial fociety, the attention of the public more than that of people of fome rank and fortune. People of fome rank and fortune are generally eighteen or nineteen years of age before they enter upon that particu- lar bufinefs, profeflion, or trade, by which they propofe to diftinguifh themfelves in -the world. They have before that full time to acquire, or at leaft to fit themfelves for afterwards acquiring, every accomplishment which, can recommend them to the public efteem, or render them worthy of it. Their parents or guardians are generally fufBciently anxious that they fhould be fo accom- pli fheu-. EDUCATIONS 245 plifhed; and are, in moft cafes, willing enough to lay out the expence which is necefiary for that purpofe. If they are not always properly educa- ted, it is feldom from the want of expence laid out upon their education ; but from the impro- per application of that expence. It is feldom from the want of matters; but from the negligence and incapacity of the maflers who are to be had, and from the difficulty, or rather from the im- poilibility which there is, in the prefent ftate of things, .of finding any better. The employments, too, in which people of feme- rank or fortune fpend the greater part of their lives, are not, like thofe of the common people, firnple and uniform. They are aimed all of them extremely complica- ted ; and fuch as exercife the head more than the hands. The underftandings of thofe who are en- gaged in fuch employments can feldom grow tor- pid for want of exercife. The employments of people of feme rank and fortune, befides, are fel- dom fuch as harrafs them from morning to night. They generally have a good deal of Iciiure; du- ring which they may perfect themfelves in every branch either of ufeful or ornamental knowledge of which they may have laid the foimdation, or for which they may have acquired fome tafte in the earlier part of life. It is otherwife with the common people. They have little time to fpare for education. . Their pa*- X 3 rents 246 EDUCATION. rents can fcarce afford to maintain them even in infancy. As foon as they are able to work, they muft apply to fome trade by which they can earn their fubfiftence. That trade too is generally fo Cmple and uniform as to give little exercife to the underftanding; while, at the fame time, their la- bour is both fo confkant and fo fevere, that it leaves them little leifure and lefs inclination to. apply to, or even to think of any thing elfe. But though the common people cannot, in any civilized fociety, be fo well inftructed as people of fome rank and fortune, the moft effential parts of education, however, to read, write, and ac- count, can be acquired at fo early a period of life, that the greater part even of thofe who are to be bred to the loweft occupations, have 'time to ac- quire them before they can be employed in thofe occupations. For a very fmall expence, the pub- lic can facilitate, can encourage, and can even im- pofe upon almoft the whole body of the people, the neceffity of acquiring thofe moft eflential parts of education. The public can facilitate this acquifition by efta- blifhing in every parifh or diftrit a little fchool, where children may be taught for a reward fo mo- derate, that even a common labourer may afford it ; the mafter being partly, but not wholly, paid by the public-, becaufe if he was wholly, or even principally paid by it, he would foon learn to ne- glect EDUCATION. 247 gleet his bufmefs. In Scotland, the eftablifhment of fuch parifh-fchools has taught almoft the whole common people to read, and a very great propor- tion of them to write and account. In England, the eflablifhment of charity fehools has had an ef- fecl of the fame kind ; though not fo univerfally, becaufe the eflablifhment is not fo univerfal. If in thofe little fchools the books, by which the chil- dren are taught to read, were a little more in- ftruclive than they commonly are; and if, inftead of a little fmattering of Latin, which the chil- dren of the common people are fometimes taught there, and which can fcarce ever be of any ufe to them, they were inftruc"ted in the elementary parts of geometry and mechanics, die literary edu- cation of this rank of people would perhaps be as complete as it can be. There is fcarce a com- mon trade which does not afford fome opportu- nities of applying to it the principles of geometry and mechanics, and which would not therefore gradually exercife and improve the common people in thofa principles; the neceflary introduc- tion to the moft fublime as well as to the moft ufeful fciences. The public can encourage the acquifition of thofe moft eflential parts of education, by giving fmail premiums and little badges of diftinction to the children of the common people who excel in them. The 248 EDUCATION. The public can impofe upon almoft the whole body of the people the neceflity of acquiring thofe moft efiential parts of education, by obliging every man to undergo an examination or proba* tion in them before he can obtain the freedom ri any corporatioiijOr.be allowed to fet up any trade either in a village or town corporate. It was in this manner, by facilitating die acoui* fition of their military, and gymnaftic exercifes, by encouraging it,., and even by impofing upon the whole body of the people the neceffity of learn- ing thofe exercifes, that, the Greek and Roman re^ publics maintained the martial fpirit of their re- fpective citizens. They facilitated the acquifition cf thofe exercifes, by appointing a certain place for learning and praclifmg them, and by granting to certain mafters the privilege of teaching in that place. Thofe matters do not appear to have had either falaries or exclufive privileges of any kind. Their reward confifted altogether in what they got from their fcholars ; and a citizen who had learnt his exercifes in the public Gymnafia, had no fort of legal advantage over one who had learnt them privately, provided the latter had learn* them equally well. Thofe republics encouraged the acquifition of thofe exercifes, by beftowing little premiums and badges of distinction upon thofe who excelled in them. To have gained a prize in the Olympic, Ifthmian, or Nemaeau games, EDUCATION. games, gave illuflration, not only to the perfon who gained it, but to his whole family and kin- dred. The obligation which every citizen was un- der to ferve a certain number of years, if called upon, in the armies of the republic, fufficiently impofed the necefiity of learning thofe exercifes, without which he could not be fit for that fervice. That in the progrefs of improvement, the prac- tice of military exercifes, unlefs government takes proper pains to fupport it, goes gradually to de- cay, and, together with it, the martial fpirit of the great body of the people, the example of mo- dern Europe fufBciently demonftrates. But the fecurity of every foeiety muft always depend, more or lefs, upon the martial fpirit of the great body of the people. In the prefent times, indeed, that martial fpirit alone, and unfupported by a wel!- difciplined {landing army, would not, perhaps, be fufiicient for the defence and fecurity of any fo- ciety. But where every citizen had the fpirit of a foldier, a fmaller {landing army would furely be requifite. That fpirit, befides, would neceflarily dirninifli very much the dangers to liberty, whe- ther real or imaginary, which are commonly ap- prehended from a {landing army. As it would very much facilitate the operations of that army againft a foreign invader, fo it would obftrucl: them as much if unfortunately they mould ever he directed againft the conflitution of the (late. The 250 EDUCATION*. The ancient inftitutions of Greece and Roms ieem to have been much more effectual for main- taining the martial fpirit of the great body of the people than the eftablimment of what are called the militias of modern times. They were much more fimple. When they were once eftabliihed, they executed themfelves, and it required, little or no attention from government to maintain them in the moft perfect vigour. Whereas to main- tain even in tolerable execution the complex re- gulations of any modern militia, requires the con- tinual and painful attention of government ; with- out which they are conftantly falling into total neglect and difufe.- The influence, befides, of the ancient inftitutions was much more univerfal. By means of them the whole body of the people was completely inftructed in the ufe of arms : whereas it is but a very fmall part of them who can ever be fo initructed by the regulations of any modern militia ; except, perhaps, that of Swit- zerland. But a coward, a man incapable either of defending or of revenging himfelf, evidently wants one of the moft eflential parts of the cha- racter of a man. He is as much mutilated and deformed in his mind as another is in his body, who is either deprived of fome of its moft eflen- tial members, or has loft the ufe of them. He is evidently the more wretched and miferable of the tw.oj becaufe happinefs and mifery,. which refide alto- EDUCATION-. 251 altogether in the mind, muft neceflarily depend more upon the healthful or unhealthful, the muti- lated or entire ftate of the mind, than upon that of the body. Even though the martial fpirit of the people were of no ufe towards the defence of the fociety, yet to prevent that fort of mental muti- lation, deformity, and wretchednefs, which cow- ardice neceflarily involves in it, from fpreading themfelves through the great body of the people, would ftill deferve the moft ferious attention of government ; in the fame manner as it would de- ferve its moil ferious attention to prevent a le- jrofy or any other loathfome and ofFenfive dif- enfe, though neither mortal nor dangerous, from fpreading itfelf among them ; though, perhaps, no other public good might refult from fuch at- tention befides the prevention of fo great a public evil. The fame thing may be faid of the grofs igno- rance and ftupidity which, in a civilized fociety, feem fo frequently to benumb the underftandings of all the inferior ranks of people. A man, with- out the proper ufe of the intellectual faculties of a man, is, if poffible, more contemptible than even a coward; and feems to be mutilated and de- formed in a ftill more effential part of the cha- racter of human nature. Though the ftate was to derive no advantage from the inftruction of the inferior ranks of people, it would ftill deferve its at- $5* D u c A T i o x. attention tliat they fliould not be altogether un* inftrucled. The flate, however, derives no in- confiderable advantage from their inftruclion-. The more they are inftru&ed, the lefs liable they are to the dehifions of enthtifiafm and fuperfti- tion; which, among ignorant nations, frequently occafion the mofl dreadful diforders. An in- ftrucled and intelligent people, befides, are always more decent and orderly than an ignorant and ftupid one. They feel themfelves, each indivi- dually, more refpectable, and more likely to ob* tain the refpect of their lawful Superiors; and they are therefore more difpofed to refpecl: thofe fuperiors. They are more difpofed to examine, and more capable of feeing, through the interefted complaints of faction and fedition$ and they are, upon that account, lefs apt to be mifled into any wanton or unnecefiary oppofition to the meafures of government. In free countries, where the fafety of government depends very much upon the favourable judgment which the people may form of its conduct, it muft furely be of the high- eft importance that they mould not be difpofed to judge rafhly or capricioufly concerning it. A. SMITH. 3 THE DECADENCE or EMPIRE. THE CAUSES OF THE DECADENCY OF AN EMPIRE. THE -Jntrodu&icn and improvement of the arts and fciences in an empire do not ocdafion its decadency ; but the fame caufes that accelerate the progrefs of the fciences, fometimes produce the moft fatal effects. There are nations where, by a peculiar feries of circumftances, the feeds of the arts and fciences do not fpring up till the moment the manners begin to corrupt. -- A certain number of men aflemble to form a fo- ciety. Thefe men found a city : Their neigh- bours fee it rife up with a jealous eye. The in- habitants of that city, forced to be at once la- bourers arid foldiers, make ufe by turns of the 'fpade and the fword. What in fuch a country is the neceffary fcience and virtue ? The military arts and valour, they alone are there refpecled. Every other fcience and virtue are there unknown. Such was the (late of rifmg Rome, when, weak and furrounded by warlike nations, it with dif- ficulty fuftained their attacks : Its glory and power extended over the whole earth : it acquired, however, the one and the other very flowly ; ages of triumphs were necefiary to fubjeft their neighbours. Now when the furrounding na- tions were fubdued, there arofe from the form VOL. I. Y f of DECADENCY ot EMPIRE. of their government civil wars, which were fu if the Divine Being had not, at that critical time, raifed William III. of glorious memory, for our deiiverence. EN- ENNUI. 26% ENNUI OR THE WEARISOMENESS OF INACTION. THE ennui, or the wearifomenefs of inaftion, is a more general and powerful fpring of action than is imagined. Of all pains this is the Ifiaft ; but neverthelefs it is one. The defire of happi*- nefs makes us always confider the abfence of plea- fure as an evil. We would have the neceflary intervals that feparate the lively pleafures always connected with the gratification of our natural wants, filled up with fome of thofe fenfations that are always agreeable when they are not painful : we therefore conftandy defire new im- preffions, in order to put us in mind every in- ftant of our exiftence ; becaufe every one of thefe informations affords us pleafure. Thus the Sa- vage, as foon as he has fatisfied his wants, runs to the banks of a river, where the rapid fucceflion of the waves that drive each other forward make every moment new impreflions upon him : for this reafon, we prefer objects in motion to thofe at reft : and we proverbially fay, that fire makes company ; that is, it helps to deliver us from the wearifomenefs of inaction. Men fearch with the greateft eagernefs for every thing capable of put- ting them in motion ; it is this defire that makes the common people run to an execution, and the people 64 ENNUI. people of fafliion to a play; and it is the fani- ftruiive to the commonwealth : the one fur- niflies tyrants, and the other the fupporters of tyranny. It is by thefe the traffic of public liberty is carried on ; the one buying, the other felling it. This equality, they tell us, is a mere fpecula- tive chimera, which cannot exift in practice. But though abufes are inevitable, does it thence follow they are not to be corrected ? It is for the very reafon that things always tend to deftroy this equality, that the laws fhould be calculated to preferve it. Rou s SE A,U. ON EQJJALITY. 269 ON THE SAME SUBJECT. A TOo great difproportion of wealth among citi- zens weakens any flate. Every perfon, if poflible, ought to enjoy the fruits of his labour, in a full pofleffion of all the necefiaries^ and many of the conveniences of life. No one can doubt but fuch an equality is mofl fuitable to human nature, and diminifhes much lefs from die happinefs of the rich than it adds to that of the poor. It alfq augments the power of the (late, and makes any- extraordinary taxes or impofitions be paid with more cheerfulnefs. Where the riches are engrof- fed by a few, thefe mult contribute very largely to fupplying the public neceffities : But when die riches are difperfed among multitudes, the burden. feels light on every fhculder j and the taxes make not a fenfible difference on any one's way of li- ving. Add to this, that where the riches are in few hands, thefe rnufi enjoy all the power ; and will readily confpire to lay all the burthen on the poor, and opprefs them Mil! farther, to the dif- couragement of all induftry. ON THE SAME SUBJECT. ALL anima's are equal ; but man is a Have to man almofl every where throughout the earth. If Z 3 man 270 EQUALITY. man had met every where v/ith an eafy, certain, and fafe fubfiftence, and a climate fuitable to his nature,, it is maiiifeflly impofTible that one man could have enflaved another. When this earth fliall every where produce falubrious fruits ; when the air, which fhould contribute to our life, fhall not bring us ficknefles and death ; when man fhall fland in need of no other lodging and bed than that of the deer and roe-buck ; then the Ta- merlanes of the earth will have no other domeftics than their children, in this fo natural ftate, which all quadrupeds, birds, and reptiles enjoy.. Man would be as happy as they : Dominion would then be a chimera, an abfurdity which no one cculd think of j for who would make a buftle to get fervants without, any want of their fervice ? Should any individual, of a tyrannical difpofition and extraordinary ftrength, take it into his head to make a flave of his weaker neigh- bour, the thing would be impracticable ; the paity opprefled would be an hundred leagues out of the oppreflbr's reach before he had taken his meafures. Thus a freedom from wants would iieceflarily make all men equal. It is the diftrefs annexed to our fpecies which fubje&s one man to another. Not that inequality is a real misfortune*;. the grievance lies in dependence. A numerous family has fuccefsfully cultivated a good foil, \vhilft two fmall neighbouring families cannot EQUALITY. 27? bring tlie ftubborn grounds to produce any tiling : the two poor families muft either become fervants to the opulent family, or extirpate it. This is felf-evident : one of the two indigent families, for a fubfiilence, goes and offers its labour to the rich ; the other goes to difpofFefs it by force c of arms, and is beaten. The former is the ori- gin of domeflics and labourers ; and from the lat- ter flavery is derived. In our calamitous globe^ it is impoflible that men, living together in fociety, mould not be divided into two clafies ; one the rich, who command ; the other the poor, who ferve or obey. This divifion originates from nature. The unequal abilities, induftry, ambi- tion, and avarice, which are every where found in mankind, produce it. All the opprefied are not abfolutely unhappy. Mofl of them being born in a fervile flate, continual labour and a habit of de- pendence preferve them from too fenfible feeling of their fituation : but whenever they feel it, wars are the confequence ; as at Rome between the Plebeian and Patrician parties ; and thofe of the peafants in Germany. All thefe wars termi- nate, foon or late, in the fubjedion of the people ; becaufe the great have riches, and riches do every thing within a flate : I fay, within a ftate ; for between nation and nation it is other- wife. A nation which handles iron heft, will ever be too ftrong fcr tnat which, with its abun- dance 272 EQJJALITY. dance of gold, is deficient in fkill and courage : the Mexicans and Peruvians are flriking inftances .of this truth. Every man is born with no fmall propenfity to power, riches, and pleafure, and has naturally a delight in indolence ; confequently every man is for having the riches, wives, or daughters of others ; would fubjecl: all to his humours, and do no work, or at leaft what only pleafed himfelf. Mankind, in the prefent ft ate, cannot fubfift, linlefs an infinity of ufeful men have the misfor- tune of being without any pofleflion whatever ; for no man in eafy circumllances will plough the ground. Thus equality is, at the fame time, both the moft natural and the moft chimerical thing in the world. Every man has a right to believe himfelf natu- rally equal to other men ; the animal functions are alike in both. But it does not from hence follow, that a man is exculed in neglecting the duty of his ftation : were it fo, there would be an end of human fociety. VOLTAIRE. ESTABLISHMENTS FOR THE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION OF THE PEOPLE* . THE institutions for the inftruftionof the people of all ages are chiefly thofe for religious inftruc- tion. RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 273 tlon. This is a fpecies of inftruUon of which the object: is not fo much to render the people good citizens in this world, as to prepare them for another and a better world in a life to come. The teachers of the dotrine which contains this inftruction, in the fame manner as other teachers, may either depend altogether for their fubfiftence upon the voluntary contributions of their hearers; or they may derive it from fome other fund to which the law of their country may intitle them ; fuch as a landed eftate, a tythe or land-tax, an eflablifhed falary or ftipend. Their exertion, their zeal and induftry, are likely to be much greater in the former fituation than in the latter. In this refpecl: the teachers of new religions have always had a confiderable advantage in attacking thofe ancient and eftabliflied fyftems of which the clergy, repofing themfelves upon their benefices, had neglected to keep up the fervour of faith and devotion in the great body of the people ; and having given themfelves up to indolence, were become altogether incapable of making any vigorous exertion in defence even of their own eflablilhment. The clergy of an eflablifhed and well-endowed religion frequently become men of learning and elegance,, who poflefs all the virtues of gentlemen, or which can recommend them to the efteem of gentlemen; but they are apt gradually to lofc the qualities, both good and bad, 274 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. bad, which gave them authority and influence with the inferior ranks of people, and which had perhaps been the original caufes of the fuccefs and eftablifhment of their religion. Such a clergy, when attacked by a fet of popular and bold, though perhaps ftupid and ignorant enthufiafts, feel themfelves as perfectly de'fencelefs as the in- dolent, effeminate, and full-fed nations of the fouthern parts of Afia, v/hen they were invaded by the active, hardy, and hungry Tartars of the north. Such a clergy, upon fuch an emergency, have commonly no other refource than to call up- on the civil magiflrate to perfecute, deflroy, or drive out their adverfaries, as difturbers of the public peace. It was thus that the Roman Ca- tholic clergy called upon the civil magiflrate to perfecute the Proteftants; and the church of Eng- land, to perfecute the DifTenters; and that, in general, every religious feet, when it has once enjoyed for a century or two the fecurity of a legal eftablifhment, has found itfelf incapable of making any vigorous defence againft any new feel which chofe to attack its doctrine or difci- pline. Upon fuch occafions, the advantage in point of learning and good writing may fome- times be on the fide of the eftablifhed church: But the arts of popularity, all the arts of gain- ing profelytes, are conftantly on the fide of its adverfaries. In England, thofe arts have been long RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. long neglected by the well-endowed clergy of the eftabliflied church, and are at prefent chiefly cultivated by the Diflenters and by the Methodifts. The independent provifions, however, which in many places have been made for diflenting teachers, by means of voluntary fubfcriptions, of truft-rights, and other evafions of the law, feem very much to have abated the zeal and activity of thofe teachers. They have many of them become very learned, ingenious, and refpe&able men j but they have in general ceafed to be very popular preachers. The Methodifts, without half the learning of the Diflenters, are much more in vogue. In the church of Rome, the induftry and zeal of the inferior clergy is kept more alive by the powerful motive of felf-interft, than perhaps in any eftablifhed Proteftant church. The parochial clergy derive, many of them, a very confiderable part of their fubfiftence from the voluntary obla- tions of the people ; a fource of revenue which confeffion gives them many opportunities of im- proving. The mendicant orders derive their whole fubfiftance from fuch oblations. It is with them, as with the buffers and light infantry of fome armies ; no plunder, no pay. The parochial clergy are like thofe teachers whofe reward de* pends partly upon their falary, and partly upon the fees or honoraries which they get from theif pupils ; 276 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. pupils; and thefe muft always depend more or lefs upon their induftry and reputation. The mendicant orders are like thofe teachers whofe fubfiftence depends altogether upon their induftry. They are obliged, therefore, to ufe every art which can animate the devotion of the common people. The eftablifhment of the two great men- dicant orders of St. Dominick and St. Francis, it is obfervedby Machiavel, revived, in the thirteenth and fourteenth conturies, the languifhing faith and devotion of the Catholic church. In Roman Catholic countries, the fpirit of devotion is fup- ported altogether by the monks and by the poorer parochial clergy. The great dignitaries of the church, with, all the accomplifhments of gentle- men and men of the world, and fometimes with thofe of men of learning, are careful enough to maintain the neceflary difcipline over their infe- riors, but feldom give themfelves any trouble about the inftruftion of the people. " MOST of the arts and profeffions in a ftate," fays by far the moft illuftrious philofopher and hiftorian of the prefent age (David Hume), " are of fuch a nature, that while they promote the iatereft of the fociety, they are alfo ufeful or agreeable to fome individuals ; and in that cafe the conftant rule of the magiftrate, except perhaps on the firft introduction of any art, is to leave the profeflion to itfelf, and truft its encourage- ment to the individuals who reap the benefit of it. * The RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENT'S. The artifans, finding their profits to rife by the favour of their cuflomers, increafe as much as poflible their (kill and induftry ; and as matters are not difturbed by any injudicious tampering, the commodity is always fure at all times to be exactly proportioned to the demand. But there are alfo fome callings which, though ufeful and even neceflary in a ftate, bring no advantage or pleafure to any individual ; and the fupreme power is obliged to alter its conduct with regard to the retainers of thofe profeflions. It mu.fl give them public encouragement in order to their fub- fiftence ; and it muft provide againft that negli- gence to which they will naturally be fubjer, either by annexing particular honours to the pro feflion, by eftabliihing a long fubordination of ranks and a ftrict dependence, or by fome other expedient. The perfcns employed in the finan- ces, armies, fleets, and magiftracy, are inftances of this order of men. It may naturally be thought at firft view, that the ecclefiaftics belong to the firft clafs; and that their encouragement, as well as that of lawyers and phyficians, may fafely b? trufted to the liberality of individuals who are attached to their doclriny, and who find benefit or confolation from their fniritual miniftry and afiiftance. Their induftry and vigilance will no doubt be whetted by fuch an additional motive; and their fkill in the profeflion, as well as their VOL. I. A a | addrefs 278 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. addrefs^ in governing the minds of the people, mufl receive daily increafe from their increafing practice, ftudy, and attention. But if we con- fider the matter more clofely, we fhall find that this interefted diligence of the clergy is what every wife legiflature will ftudy to prevent ; be- caufe in every religion except the true, it is highly pernicious, and has even a natural tendency to pervert the true, by infufing into it a flrong mix- ture of fuperftition, folly, and delufion. Each ghoftly practitioner, in order to render himfelf more precious and facred in the eyes of his re- tainers, muft infpire them with the moft violent abhorrence againft all other fets, and continually endeavour by fome novelty to excite the languid devotion of his audience. No regard will be paid to truth, morals, or decency, in the doctrines in- culcated. Every tenet will be adopted -that beft iuits the diforderly affections of the human frame. Cuftomers will be drawn to each conventicle by new induilry and addrefs in practifmg on the paifions and credulity of the populace. And in the end, the civil magiftrate will find that he has paid dearly for his pretended frugality in faving a fettled foundation for the priefts ; and that in reality the moft decent and advantageous compofition which he can make with the fpiritual guides, is to bribe their indolence, by affixing itated fabrics to their profeflion, and rendering it RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 2~$ it fuperfluous for them to be further acHve than merely to preferve their flock from ftraying in queft of new paftures. And in this manner ec- clefiaftical eftablifhments, though commonly they arofe at firft from religious views, prove in the end advantageous to the political interefts of fo- ciety." But whatever may have been the good or bad effects of the independent provifion of the clergy, it has, perhaps, been very feldom beftowed upon them from any view to thofe effects. Times of violent religious controverfy have generally been times of equally violent political faction. Upou fuch occafions, each political party has either found it, or imagined it, for its intereft, to league itfelf with fome one or other of the contending religious fects. But this could be done only by- adopting, or at leaft by favouring, the tenets of that particular feel:. The feet which had the good fortune to be leagued with the conquering party, neceflarily fhared in the victory of its ally, by whofe favour and protection it was foon en- abled in fome degree to filence and fubdue all its adverfaries. Thofe adverfaries had generally leagued themfelves with the enemies of the con- quering party, and were therefore the enemies of that party. The clergy of this- particular feel: having thus become complete mafters of the field, and their influence and authority with the A a 2. great. 280 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. great body of the people being in its higheft vi- gour, they were powerful enough to over-awe the chiefs and leaders of their own party, and to oblige the civil magiftrate to refpeft their opi- nions and inclinations. Their firft demand was generally, that he fhould filence and fubdue all their adverfaries; and their fecond, that he fhould beftow an independent provision on themfelves.. As they had generally contributed a good deal to the victory, it feemed not unreafonable that they fhould have fome fhare in the fpoil. They were weary, befides, of humouring the people, and of depending upon their caprice for a fuh- fifience. In making this demand therefore they confulted their own eafe and comfort, without troubling themfelves about the effect which it might have in future times upon the iniluence and authority of their order. The civil magiftrate, who could comply with this demand only by giving them fomething which he would have chofen much rather to take, or to keep to himfelf, was feldom very forward to grant it. Neceffity, how- ever, always forced him to fubmit at laft, though frequently not till after many delays, evafions, and affected excufes. But if politics had never called in the aid of re- ligion, had the conquering party never adopted, the tenets of one feel more than thofe of another, when it had gained die vi&ory, it would proba- Mv RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 2Ct bly have dealt equally and impartially with all the different feels, and have allowed every man to choofe his own prieft and his own religion as he thought proper. There would in this cafe, no doubt, have been a great multitude of religious feels, Almoft every different congregation might prcbably have made a little feet by itfelf, or have entertained fome peculiar tenets of its own. Each teacher would no doubt have felt himfelf under the neceflity of making the utmoft exertion, and of ufing every art both to preferve and to increafe the number of his difciples. But- as every other teacher would have felt himfelf under the fame neceflity, the fuccefs of no one teacher, or feel: of teachers, could have been very great. The inte- refted and aclive zeal of religious teachers can be dangerous and troublefome only where there is either but one feel tolerated in the fociety, or where the whole of a large fociety is -divided into t\vc or three great feels j. the teachers of each acling by concert, and under a regular difcipline and fubordination. But that zeal muft be altoge- ther innocent where the fociety is divided into two or three hundred, or perhaps into as many thouiand, fmall feels, of which no one could be confiderable enough to difturb the public tran- quillity. The teachers of each feel, feeing them- felves furrounded on all fides with more adver- faries than friends, would be obliged to learn th^t A a -- candou r 282 RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. candour and moderation which is fo feldom to be found among the teachers of thofe great fe&s, v/hofe tenets being fupported by the civil magi- ftrate, are held in veneration by almoft all the in- habitants of extenfive kingdoms and empires, and who therefore fee nothing round them but follow- ers, difciples, and humble admirers. The teach- ers of each little fet, finding themfelves almoft alone, would be obliged to refpect thofe of almoft every other feel: ; and the conceflions which they would mutually find it both convenient and agree- able to make to one another, might in time pro- bably reduce the doctrine of the greater part of them to that pure and rational religion, free from every mixture of abfurdity, impofture, or fanati- cifm, fuch as wife men have in al] ages of the world wifhed to fee eftablifhed ; but fuch as pofi- tive lav/ has perhaps never yet eftabliflied, and probably never will eftablifh, in any country : be- caufe, with regard to religion, pofitive law al- ways has been, and probably always will be, more or lefs influenced by popular fuperftition and en- thufiafm. This plan of ecclefiaftical government, or more properly of no ecclefiaftical government, was what the feel: called Independents, a feet no doubt of very wild enthufiafts, propofed to efta- blifh in England towards the end of the civil war, If it had been eftablifhed, though of a very un- philofophical origin 3 it would probably by this time RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 283 time have been productive of the mod philofo- phical good temper and moderation with regard to every fort of religious principle. It has been eftablifhed in Penfylvania, where, though the Quakers happen to be the moft numerous, the law in reality favours no one feet more than an- other ; and it is there faid to have been produc- tive of this philofophical good temper and mode- ration. But though this equality of treatment fhould not be productive of this good temper and mode- ration in all, or even in the greater part of the religious fedts of a particular country ; yet provi- ded thofe feels were fufficiently numerous, and each of them confequently too fmall to difturb the public tranquillity, the exceffive zeal of each for its particular tenets could not well be produc- tive of any very hurtful effects, but, on the con- trary, of feveral good ones : and if the govern- ment was perfectly decided both to let them all alone, and to oblige them all to let alone one an- other, there is little danger that they would not of their own accord fubdivide themfelves fail e- nough, fo as foon to become fufficiently nume- rous. A. SMITH. EVI- ETIDENCE. EVIDENCE, EVERY one afks, what is truth or evidence? The root of the word indicates the idea we ought to annex to it. Evidence is derived from videre. What is an evident propofition ? It is a facl of which all may convince themfelves by the tefti- mony of their fenfes, and whofe exiftence they may moreover verify every inftant. Sn.ch a?e thefe two fails, two and tivo make four ; the luhole is greater than a part. If I pretend, fr example, that there is in the north fea a polypus named Kraken, and that this polypus is as large as a fmall ifland j this facl, though evident to me, if I have feen and examined it with all the at- tention necefiary to convince me of its reality-, is not even probable to him who has not feen it; it is more rational in him to doubt my veracity, than to believe the exiftence of fo extraordinary an animal. But if, after travellers, I defcribe the true form of the buildings at Pekin, this defcrip- tion, evident to thofe who inhabit them, is only more or lefs probable to others-, fo that the true is not always evident, and the probable is often true. But in what does evidence differ from probability ? Evidence is a fact that is fubjecl: to our fenfes, and whofe exiftence all men may verify every inftant. As to probability, it is on conjectures, on the teftimony of men, and. EVIDENCE. 285 % and on a hundred proofs of the fame kind. Evi- dence is a fingle point ; there are no degrees of evidence. On the contrary, there are various degrees of probability, according to the difference, firft, of the people who aflert; fecondly, of the fact aflerted. Five men tell me they have feen a bear in the forefts of Poland: this fact not being con- tradicted by any thing, is to me very probable. But if not five only, but five hundred men, (hould afiure me they met in the fame forefts ghofts, fairies, demons, their united evidence would not be to me at all probable; for in cafes of this na- ture, it is more common to meet with five hundred romancers, than to fee fuch prodigies. HELVETIUS. HISTORICAL EVIDENCE. WERE mod hiftorical events traced up to their caufes, we fliould find hiftorical evidence very deficient. Mankind is made up of inconfiftencies; and no man acts invariably up to his predomi- nant character. Our beft conjectures, as to the true fpring of actions, are very uncertain; the actions themfelves is all we muft pretend to know from hiftory. That Caefar was murdered by 24 confpirators, I doubt not ; but I very much doubt, whether their love of liberty was the fole caufe. CHESTERFIELD. THE E v i L. THE ORIGIN OF EVIL. MAN is an active and free being; he ac~b of himfelf : none of his fpontaneous actions, there- fore, enter into the general fyftem of Providence, nor can be imputed to it. Providence doth not contrive the evil, which is the confequence of man's abufmg the liberty his Creator gave him : it only doth not prevent it ; either becaufe the evil, which fo impotent a being is capable of doing, is beneath its notice; or becaufe it cannot prevent it without laying a reftraint upon his liberty, and caufing a great evil by debafing his nature. Providence hath left man at liberty, not that he (hould do evil, but good by choice, in making a proper ufe of the faculties beftowed on him : his powers, however, are at the fame time fo limited and confined, that the abufe he makes of his liberty, is not of importance enough to difturb the general order of the univerfe. The evil done by man falls on his own head, with- out making any change in the fyftem of the world, without hindering the human fpecies from being preferved in fpite of themfelves. To com- plain, therefore, that God doth not prevent man from doing evil, is, in fail, to complain that he hath given a fuperior excellence to human nature; that he hath ennobled our actions, by annexing to EVIL. 287 to them the merit of virtue. What could Omni- ' potence itfclf 'do more in our favour ? Could it have eftablifhed a contradiction in our nature, or have allotted rewards for well-doing to a being incapable of doing ill ? It is the abufe of our fa- culties which makes us wicked and miferable. Our cares, our anxieties, our griefs, are all owing to ourfelves. Moral evil is inconteftably our own work; and phyfical evil would in facT: be nothing, did not our vices render us fenfible of it. Is it not for our prefervation that nature makes us fenfible of our wants ? Is not pain of body an indication that the machine is out of order, and a caution for us to provide a remedy ? And as to death do not the wicked render both our lives and their own miferable ? Who is there defirous of living here for ever ? Death is a remedy for all the evils we inflicT: on ourfelves. Nature will not let us fuffer perpetually. To how few evils are men fubjecT: who live in pri- meval fimplicity ! They hardly know any difeafe, and are irritated by fcarcely any paflions: they neither forefee death, nor fuffer by the apprehen- fions of it : when it approaches, their miferies render it defirable ; and it is to them no evil. Inquire no longer, man ! who is the author of evil : behold him in yourfelf. There exifls no other evil in nature but what you do or fuffer ; and you are equally the wthor of both. A ge- neral 25 E T I L. X neral evil could exift only in diforder; but in the fyftem of nature, there is an eftabliihed order which is never difturbed. Particular evil 'exifta only in the fentiment of the fuffering being : and this fentiment is not given to man by nature, but is of his own acquisition. Pain and forrow have but little hold of thofe who, unaccuftomed to reflections, have neither forefight nor memory. Take away our fatal improvements, take away our errors and vices; take away, in fhort, every thing that is the work of man j and all the reft is good. JLet us be firft virtuous, and reft allured we mall be happy fooner or later. "Let us not require the prize before we have got the victory, nor de* mand the price of our labour before the work is finifhed. It is not in the lifts, fays Plutrach, that the victors at our games are crowned, but after the conqueft is over. The foul is imma- terial, and will furvive the body , and in that view Providence is juftified. When delivered from the delufions of fenfe, we (hall enjoy the contem- plation of the Supreme Being, and thofe eternal truths of which he is the fource ; when the beauty of the natural order of things fhall ftrike all the faculties of the foul, and when we fhall be employed folely in comparing what we have really done with what we ought to have done. ROUSSEAU, 2 OB- EVIL. OBSERTATIONS ON NATURAL AND MORAL EVIL. IT muft be allowed, that if a very limited in- telligence, whom we fhall -fuppofe utterly unao quainted wiu,i the univerfe, were allured that it were the production of a very good, wife, and powerful being, however finite, he would from his conje&ures forrrj beforehand a different notion of it from what we find it to be by experience ; nor would he ever imagine, merely from thefe attributes of the caufe, of which he is informed, that the effect could be fo full of vice and mifery and diforder as it appears in this life. Suppofe now that this perfon were brought into the world, ftill aflured that it was the workmanfhip of fueh a fublime and benevolent Being, he might per- haps be furprifed at the difappointment ; but would never retract his former belief, if founded on a very folid argument ; fince fuch a limited intelligence muft be fenfible of his own blindaefs and ignorance, and muft allow that there may be many folutions of thofe phenomena which will for ever efcape his comprehenfion. But fuppo- fing, which is the real cafe with regard to man, that this creature is not antecedently convinced of a fupreme Intelligence, benevolent and powerful, but is left to gather fuch a belief from the appear- VOL. L B b f -, ances V I L. ances of things ; this entirely alters the cafe, nor will- he ever find any reafon for fuch a concluficn. He may be fully convinced of the narrow limits of his underftanding ; but this will not help him in forming an inference concerning the goodnefs of fuperior powers, fmce he muft form that infe- rence from what he knows, and not from what lie is ignorant of. The more you exaggerate his weaknefs and ignorance, the more diffident you render him, and give him the greater fufpicion that fuch fubjefts are beyond the reach of his fa- culties. You are therefore obliged to reafon with him merely from the known phenomena, and to drop every arbitrary fuppofition or conjecture. Did I fliQw you a houfe or palace, where there is not one apartment convenient or agreeable j where the windows, doors, fires, paflages, (lairs, and the whole ceconomy of the building, were the fource of noife, confufion, fatigue, darknefs, and the extremes of heat and cold; you would certainly blame the contrivance, without any fur- ther examination. The architect would in vain difplay his fubtilty, and prove to you, that if this door or that window were altered, greater ills would enfue. "What he fays may be ftricUy true : the alteration of one particular, while the other parts of the building remain, may only augment the inconveniences. But ftill you would aflert in general, that if ths architect had Ikill and good inten- EVIL. 291 intentions, he might have formed fuch a plan o the whole, and might have aujufted the parts in fuch a manner, as would have remedied all (. moil of thefe inconveniences. His ignorance, &: even your own ignorance, of fuch a } never convince you of the impoflibility of it. If you find many inconveniences and deformities in the building, you will always, without entering into any detail, condemn the architecT:. Is the world confidered in general, and as it appears to us in this life, different from wlr.it a man, or fuch a limited being, would beforehand expect from a very powerful, wife, and benevc- lent Deity ? It muft be ilrange prejudice to ailert the contrary. And from thence I conclude, that however confiftent the world may be, allowing certain fuppofitions and conjectures, with the idea of fuch a Deity, it can never afford us an infe- rence concerning his exiftence. The confidence is not abfolutely denied, but only the inference. Conjectures, efpecially where infinity is excluded from the divine attributes, may perhaps be fufE- cient to prove a confidence ; but can never be foundations for any inference. There feem to "bcf^ur circumftances on which depend all the greateft part of the ills that moleft fenfible creatures ; and it is not impoffible but all thefe circumftances may be neceflary and una- voidable. We know fo little beyond common B b 2 life* 2p2 V I L. life, or even of common life, that, with regard Jo the ceconomy of an univerfe, there is no con- jecture, however wild, which may not be juft ; nor any one, however plaufible, which may not be erroneous. All that belongs to human under- (landing in this deep ignorance and obfcurity, is to be fceptical, or at lead cautious j and not to ad- mit of any hypothefis whatever, much left of any which is fupported by no appearance of probabi- lity. Now this I alien to be the cafe with re- gard to all the circumflances on which it depends. None of them appear to human reafon in the leaft degree neceflary or unavoidable; nor can we fuppofe them fuch without the utmoft licence of imagination. The^r/? circumftance which introduces evil is that contrivance or ceconomy of the atiimal crea- tion, by which pains a-s well as pleafures are em- ployed to excite all creatures to adlion, and make them vigilant in the great work of felf-prcferva- tion. Now pleafure alone, in its various degrees, feems to human underftanding fufficient for this purpofe. All animals might be conftantly in a ilate of enjoyment : but when urged by any of the neceflities of nature, fuch as thirft, hunger, wearinefs ; inftead of pain, they might feel a di- minution of pleafure, by which they might be prompted to feek that object which is neceflary to their fubfiftence. Men purfue pleafure as ea- gerly E v i L* 293 gevly as they avoid pain, at leaft might have been fo conflituted. It feems therefore plainly poflible to carry on the bufmefs of life without any pain. Why then is any animal ever rendered fufceptible of fuch a fenfation ? If any animals can be free from it an hour, they might enjoy a perpetual exemption from it ; and it required as particular a contrivance of their organs to produce that feel- ing, as to endow them with fight, hearing, or any of the fenfes. Shall we conjecture that fuch a contrivance was necefiary, without any appear- ance of reafon ? and fliall we build on that con- jeclure as on the moft certain truth ? But a capacity of pain would not alone pro- duce pain, were it not for the ficcr.d circurn- ftance, viz. the conducting the world by general laws ; and this feems no way neceflary to a very perfel being. It is true, if every thing were conducted by particular volitions, the- courfe of nature would be perpetually broken, and no man would employ his- reafon in the conduct: of life. But might not other particular volitions remedy this inconvenience ? In fhort, might not the De- ity exterminate all ill, wherever it were to be found j and produce all good, without any pre- paration or long progrefs of caufes and effects ? Befidcs, v/e muft confider, that, according to the prefent ceconomy of the world, the courie of nature, though fuppofed exactly regular, yet to B b 3 uo 294 EVIL. ns appears net To ; and niany events are uncer- tain, and many difappoint our expectations. Health and ficknefs, calm and tempcft, with an infinite number of other accidents, whofe caufes are unknown and variable, have a great influence both on the fortunes of particular perfons, and on the profperity of public focieties; and in- deed all human life in a manner depends on fuch accidents. A being, therefore, who knows the fecret fprings of the univerfe, might eafily, by particular volitions, turn all thefe accidents to the good of mankind, and render the whole world happy, without discovering himfelf in any opera- 'tion. Some fmall touches given to Caligula's brain in his infancy might have converted him into a Trajan ; one wave a little higher than the reft, by burying Caefar and his fortune in the ocean, might have reitored liberty to a confider- able part of mankind. A few fuch events as thefe, regularly and wifely conducted, would change the face of the world ; and yet would no more feem to difturb the courfe of nature, or confound human conduct, than the prefent ceco- nomy of things, where the caufes are fecret, and variable, and compounded. If every thing 'in the univerfe be conducted by general laws, and if animals be fufceptible of pain ; yet ill would be very rare, were it not for the third circumftance which I propofed to men- tion, EVIL. 20$ tkm, viz, the great frugality with which all powers and faculties are diftributed to every particular be- ing. So well adjufted are the organs and capaci- ties of all animals, and fo well fitted to their pre- fervation, that, as far as hiftory or tradition reaches$ there appears not to be any fmgle fpecies which has yet been extinguifhed in the univerfe. Every animal has the requifite endowments j but the endowments are be (lowed with fo fcrupu- lous an oeconomy, that any confiderable dimi- nution muil entirely deftroy the creature. Where- ever one power is increafed, there is a propor- tional abatement in the others. Nature feems to have formed an exacl calculation of the necefli- ties of her creatures, and, like a rigid mafler t has afforded them little more powers or endow- ments than what are ftri&ly fufficietit to fupply thofe neceflities. An indulgent parent would have beftowed a large ftock, in order to guard againft accidents, and to fecure the happinefs and welfare of the creature in the moft unfortunate concurrence of circumftances. The Author of nature is inconceivably powerful : his force is fup- pofed great, if not altogether inexhauftible ; nor is there any reafon, as far as we can judge, to make Him obferve this ftrift frugality in His deal- ings with His creatures. In order to cure moft of the ills of life, I re- quire not that man fliould have the wings of the eagle, 2p<5 .EVIL. eagle, the fwiftnefs of the flag, &c. I am con- tented to take an increafe in one {ingle power or faculty of the foul. Let him be endowed with greater propenfity to induftry and labour; a more vigorous fpring and activity of mind ; a more conftant bent to bufmefs and application. Let the whole fpecies poflefs naturally an equal dili- gence with that which many individuals are able .to attain by habit and reflection ; and the mo ft be- neficial confequences, without any allay of ill, is .the immediate and neceflary refult of this endow- ment. Almoft all the moral as well as natural evils of human life arife from idlenefs; and were our fpecies, by the original coiiilitution of their frame, exempt from this vice or infirmity, tire .perfect cultivation of land, the improvement of arts and manufactures, the exat execution of every office and duty, immediately follow, and men at once may fully reach that ilate of fociety, which is fo imperfectly attained in the beft go- vernment. But as induiiry is a power, and the moft valuable of any, nature feems determined, fuitably to her ufual maxims, to beflow it on men with a fparing hand; and rather to punifh him feverely for his deficiency in it, than to reward him for his attainments. She has fo contrived his frame, that nothing but the moft violent neceflity can oblige him to labour; and fhe employs all his other wants to overcome, at le-fi in part, the want of EVIL. 297 f diligence, and to endow him with fome fhare of a faculty, of which ftie has thought fit naturally to bereave him. The fourth circumflance, whence arifes the mifery and ill of the univerfe, ic the inaccurate workmanihip of all the fprings and principles of the great machine of nature. It muft be acknow- ledged, that there are few parts of the univerfe which feem not to ferve fome purpofej and whofe removal would not produce a vifible defecl: and diforder in the whole. The parts hang all toge- ther ; nor can one be touched without affe&ing the reft, in a greater or lefs degree. But at the fame time it muft be obferved, that none of thefe parts or principles, however ufeful, are fo accu- rately adjufted, as to keep precifely within thofe bounds in which their utility confifts ; but they are all of them apt, on every occafion, to run into the one extreme or the other. There is no- thing fo advantageous in the univerfe but what frequently becomes pernicious by its excefs or defect ; nor has nature guarded, with the requi- fite accuracy, againfl all diforder and confufion. The irregularity is never, perhaps, fo great as to deftroy any fpecies ; but is often fufficient to in- volve the individuals in ruin and mifery. On the concurrence then of thefe four circum- (lances, does all, or the greateft part of natural evil depend. Were, all living creatures incapable ef. 298 E v i L. . of pain, or were the world adminiftered by parti- cular volitions, evil could never have found accefs into the univerfe : and were animals endowed with a large flock of powers and faculties beyond what flricl neceflity requires ; or were the feveral fprings and principles of the univerfe fo accurately fra- med as to preferve always the jufl temperament and medium; there muft have been very little ill . in comparifon of what we feel at prefent. Here the Manichean fyftem occurs as a proper hypothecs to folve the difficulty : and, no doubr, in fome refpets it is very fpecious, and has more probability than the common hypothecs, by gi- ving a plaufible account of the ftrange mixture of good and ill which appears in life. But if we con- fider, on the other hand, the perfect uniformity and agreement of the parts of the univerfe, we fhall not difcover in it any marks of the combat of a malevolent with a benevolent being. There is, indeed, an oppofition of pains and pleafures in the feelings of fenfible creatures: but are not all the operations of nature carried on by an oppofi- tion of principles ; of hot and cold, moift and dry, light and heavy ? The true conclufion is, that the original fource of all things is entirely indifferent to all thefe principles; and has no more regard to good above ill, than to heat above cold, or to drought above moifture, or to light above heavy. There may /^r hypothecs be framed concern- ing EVIL. 299 hig the firft caufes of the univerfe: T'aat they are endowed with perfect goodnefs ; that they have perfect malice ; that they are oppofite, and have both goodnefs and malice; that they have neither goodnefs nor malice. Mixt phenomena can ne- ver prove the two former unmixt principles. And the uniformity and fteadinefs of general laws feem to oppofe the third. The fourth, therefore, feems by far the moft probable. Allowing, what never will be believed, at leaft what never poflibly can be proved, that animal, or at lead human happinefs, in this life exceed? its mifery, is to do nothing : for this is not by any means what we expect from Infinite Power, In-' finite Wifdom, and Infinite Goodnefs. Why is there any mifery at all in the world ? Not by chance furely. From fome caufe then. Is it from the intention of the Deity ? But he is perfectly benevolent. Is it contrary to his intention ? But he is Almighty. Nothing can fhake this reafon- ing; fo (hort, fo clear, fo decifive: except we af- fert, that thefe fubjects exceed all human capa- city, and that our common meafures of truth and falfehood are not applicable to them. What is here faid of natural evil will apply td moral with little or no variation; and we have no more reafon to infer, that the rectitude of the Supreme Being refembles human rectitude, than that his benevolence refembles the human. Nay, it EVIL. it will be thought, that we have ftill greater caufc to exclude from him moral fentiments, fuch as we feel them ; fmce moral evil, in the opinion of many, is much more predominant above moral good, than natural evil above natural good. But even though this mould not be allowed ; and though the virtue, which is in mankind, mould be acknowledged much fuperior to the vice ; yet fo long as there is any vice at all in the univerfe, it will be very difficult to account for it. We muft affign a caufe for it, without having recourfe to the firft caufe. But every effect mufl have a. caufe, and that caufe another: you mufl either carry on the progreffion in infinitum, or reft oil that original principle who is the ultimate caufe of all things. HUME. ' CAUSES AND EFFECTS DISCOVERABLE, NOT BY REASON, BUT BY EXPERIENCE. THE knowledge of caufes and effects is not in any inftance attained by reafonings a priori; but arifes entirely from experience, when we find that any particular objects are constantly conjoined with each other. Adam, though his rational faculties be fuppofed, at the very firft, entirely perfect, could not have inferred from the fluidity and tranfparency of water, that it would fuffbcate him, .or from the light and 2 \varmih EXPERIENCE, 301 \v arm tli of fire that it would confume him. No object ever difcovers, by the qualities which ap- pear to the fenfes, either the caufes which pro- duced it, or the effects which will arife from it ; nor can our reafon, unafiifted by experience, ever draw any inferences concerning real exiflence and matter of fad. Prefent two fmooth pieces of marble to a man who has no tincture of natural philofophy '. he 'will never difcover, that they will adhere together in fuch a manner as to re- quire great force to feparate them in a direft line, while they make fo fmall a refiftance to a lateral preffure. No man imagines that the explofion of gunpowder, or the attraction of the loadftone, could ever be difcovered by arguments a priori. Who will aflert, that he can give the ultimate reafons why milk or bread is proper nourishment for a man, not for a lion or a tyger ? Were any ob- ject prefented to us, and \vere we required to pronounce concerning the effect: which will re- fult from it, without confulting pad obfervation, after what manner muft the mind proceed in this operation ? It muft invent or imagine fome event, which it afcribes to the object as its effect j and it is plain that this invention muft be arbitrary. The mind can never pofiibly find the effect in the fuppofed caufe by the moft accurate fcrutiny and examination : For the effect is to- tally different from the caufe; and confequently VOL. I. G c f can 302 EXPERIENCE. can never be difcovered in it. A ftone raifed in- to the air, and left without any fupport, immedi- ately falls ; but to confider the matter a priori, is there any thing we difcovcr in thrs fituation which can beget the idea of a downward, rather than an upward, or any other motion, in the ftone? In a word, then, every effect is a diftinct event from its caufe. It could not, therefore, be difco- vered in the caufe; and the firft invention or con- ception of it a priori muft be entirely arbitrary. And even after it is fuggefted, the conjunction of it with the caufe muft appear equally arbitrary; fmce there are always many other effects which, to reafon, muft feem fully as confiftent and na- tural. In vain, therefore, fhould we pretend to determine any fmgle event, or infer any caufe or effect, without the affiftance of obfervation and experience. The utmoft effect of human reafon is, to reduce the principles productive of natural phenomena to a greater fimplicity, and to refolve the many particular effects into a few general caufes, by means of reafoning from analogy, experience, and obfervation. But the caufes of thefe general caufes, the ultimate fprings and principles of nature, are totally fhut up from hu- man curiofity and inquiry. HUME. THE EXPERIENCE. 303 THE FOUNDATION OF ALL CONCLUSIONS FROM EXPERIENCE. NATURE has kept us at a great diftance from all her fecrets, and has afforded us only the know- ledge of a few fuperficial qualities of objects; while {he conceals from us thofe powers and prin- ciples on which the influence of thefe objects en- tirely depends. Our fenfes inform us of the co- lour, weight, and confidence of bread ; but nei- ther fenfe nor reafon ever can inform us of thoft qualities which fit it for the nourishment and fup- port of a human body. Sight, or feeling, con- veys an idea of the actual motion of bodies: but as to that wonderful force or power, which would, carry on a moving body for ever in a continued change of place, and which bodies never lofe but by communicating it to others; of this we cannot form the moil diflant conception. But notwith- ilanding this ignorance of natural powers and principles, we always prefume, where we fee like fenfible qualities, that they have like fecret powers, and expect, that effects, fimilar to thofe which we have experienced, will follow from them. If a body of like colour and confidence with that of bread, which v/e have formerly eat, be prefented to us, we make no fcruple of repeating the expe- liment; and forefee, with certainty, like nouriih- C c 2 ment. 304 EXPERIENCE. ment and fupport. But it is allowed on all hands, that there is no known connexion between the fenfible qualities and the fecret powers; and con- fequently, that the mind is not led to form fuch a conclusion concerning their conftant and regu- lar conjunction, by any thing which it knows of their nature. As to pail experience, it can be al- lowed to give direEl and certain information only of thofe precife objects, and that precife period of time, which fell under its cognizance. The bread, which I formerly eat, nourifhed me; that is, a body of fuch fenfible qualities was at that time endued with fuch fecret powers : But does it fol- low, that other bread muft alfo nourifh me at an- other time , and that like fenfible qualities muft always be attended with like fecret powers? The confequence feems nowife necefiary. Thefe two prcpofitions are far from being the fame, / have found fuch an cbjeft has always been attended -with fuch an efftft; and, / forefee y that other objefts, uhich are in appearance Jimilar, will be attended iL-ith Jimilar effefts. The one proposition is, in fact, always inferred from the other: But this inference is not made by a chain of reafoning. If this conclufion were formed by reafon, it would be as perfect at firft ; and upon one inftance, as after ever fo long a courfe of experience. But the cafe is far otherwife. Nothing is fo like as eggs; yet no one, on account of this apparent fimila- rity, EXPERIENCE. rlty, expects the fame tafte and relifti in all of them. It is only after a long courfe of uniform experiments in any kind that we attain a firm re- fiance and fecurity with regard to a particular event. This inference is not intuitive; neither is it demonflrative. That there are no demonilrative arguments in the cafe, feems evident; fince it im- plies no contradiction, that the courfe of nature may change, and that an object, feemingly like- thofe we have experienced, may be attended with- different and contrary effects. Is it not clearly and diftinclly, to be conceived, that a body fall- ing from the clouds* and which, in all other re- fpecls refembles fnow, has yet the tafte of fait, or feeling of fire ? Is there any more intelligible, propofition, than to affirm, that all the trees will flourifh in December and January, and decay in May and June? Now, whatever is- intelligible,^ and can be diftin&ly conceived, implies no con- tradiction, and can never be proved falfe by any demonftrative arguments or abilract reafoning a pric/ri. If we be therefore engaged by arguments to put/ truft in paft experience, and make it the (land- - ard of our future judgment, thefe arguments mufl- be probable only, or fuch as regard matter of- fact and real exiftence : but all arguments con- cerning exiilence are founded on the relation of- caufe and effect ; and our knowledge of that re~, C c 3 la:' EXPERIENCED lation is derived entirely from experience , and aft our experimental conclufions proceed upon the fuppofition, that the future will be conformable to the paft. To endeavour, therefore, the proof of this laft fuppofition by probable arguments, or arguments regarding exiftence, is begging the que- ilion. All arguments or inference* from experience- fuppofe, as their foundation, that the future will referable the paft ; and that fimilar powers will be conjoined with fimilar fenfible qualities. If there be any fufpicion that the courfe of nature may change, and that the paft may be no rule for the future, all experience becomes ufelefs, and can give rife to no inference or conclufion. It is- impoffible, therefore, that any arguments from, experience can prove this refemblance of the paft to the future j fince all thefe arguments are found- ed on a fuppofition of this refemblance. Let the courfe of things be allov.-ed hitherto ever fo regu- lar ; that alone, without fome new argument or inference, proves not, that for the future it will continue fo. In vain do we pretend to have learned the nature of bodies from our paft expe- rience. Their fecret nature, and confequently all fheir effects and influence, may change> without any change in their fenfible qualities* This hap- pens fometimes, and with regard to fome objects: may it not happen always^ and with regard to EXPERIENCE. 307 to all objects ? There is no logic, or procefs of ar- gument, which can fecure us againft this fuppo- fition. In all reafoning, therefore, from experience, there is a ftep taken by the mind, which is not efta- blifhed by any argument or procefs of the under- ftanding. But if the mind be not engaged by ar- gument to make this ftep, it muft be induced by fome other principle of equal weight and autho- rity; and that principle will preferve its influence as long as human nature remains the fame. Sup* pofe a perfon, though endowed with the (trongeft faculties of reafon and reflection, to be brought on a fudden into this world : he would, indeed, immediately obferve a continual fucceflion of ob- jects, and one event following another ; but he would not be able to difcover any thing further, He would not be able by any reafoning to reach the idea of caufe and effect ; fince the particular powers, by which all natural operations are per- formed, never appear to the fenfes; nor is itrea- fonable to conclude, merely becaufe. one event, in. one inftance precedes another, that therefore the one is the caufe, the other the effect. Their con- junction may be arbitrary and cafual. There may be no reafon to infer the exiftence of the one from the appearance of the other. And, in a word, fuch a perfon without more experience, could ne- ter employ his conjecture or reafoning concern- ing EXPERIENCE.' ing any matter of fat, or be aflured of any thing beyond what was immediately prefent to his me- mory or fenfes. Suppofe again, that he has acquired more experience, and has lived fo long in the world* as to have obferved fimilar objels or events to be conftantly conjoined together; what is the confequence of this experience ? : He immedi- ately infers the exiftence of the one object from the appearance of the other. Yet he has not, by all his experience, acquired any idea or know- ledge of the fecret power by which the one ob- ject produces the other ; nor is it by any procefs of reafoning he is engaged to draw this inference. But ftill he finds himfelf determined to it: and though he fhould be convinced that his under- ftanding has no part in the operation, he would neverthelefs continue in the fame courfe of think- ing. To this he is determined by cuftom.o? habit* For wherever the repetition of any particular aft or operation produces a propenfity to renew the fame acl: or operation, without being impelled by any reafoning or procefs of the underftanding, we always fay, that this propenfity is the effect of cu- {lorn. Cuflom^ then, is the great guide of human life. It is that principle alone which renders our experience ufeful to us; and makes us expect for, the future a fimilar train of events with thofe wluchihave appeared in the paft. Having found, in EXPERIENCE. 309; in many inftances, that any two kinds of objects, iame and heat, fnow and cold, have always been conjoined together; if flame or fnow be prefented anew to our fenfes, the mind is carried by cuftom to expect heat or cold; and to believe that fuch a quality does exift, and will difcover itfelf upon a nearer approach. This belief is the neceiTary con- fcquence of placing the mind in fuch circum- ftances. It is an operation of the foul, when we are fo fituated as unavoidably to feel the paflion of love when we receive benefits; or hatred, when we meet with injuries. All thefe operations are a fpecies of natural inftincts, which no reafoning or procefs of the thought and underftanding is able either to produce or to prevent ! HUME. THE EXISTENCE OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS ONLY PROBABLE. WHOEVER will be fatisfied with evidence only, can hardly be fure of any thing except his own exiftence. How could he, for example, be con- vinced of that of other bodies ? For cannot God, by his omnipotence, make the fame impreflions on our fenfes as the prefence of the objects would excite ? And if we grant, that the Deity can dot, this, how can it be affirmed, that he does not em- ploy his power in this manner; and that the whole univerfe 310 EXTERNAL OBJECTS. univerfe is nothing more than a mere phenome- non ? Befules, as we are affected in our dreams by the fame fenfation we {hould feel were the ob- ject prefent, how can it be proved, that our life is not one continued dream? I would not be un- derftood from hence to deny the exiftence of bo- dies, but only to fliow that we have lefs affurance of it than of our own exiftence. And as truth is an indivifible point, we cannot fay of a certain fact, that it is more or lefs true : It is therefore evident, that if we are more certain of our own exiftence than that of other bodies, the exiftence of the latter is no more than a probability. It is,. indeed, a very great probability ; and with regard to the conduct of life, equivalent to evidence; not- withftanding which, it is only a probability. HELYETIUS, FABULOUS STORIES. 311' DIFFICULTY OF DETECTING FABULOUS STORIES. THE difficulty of dete&ing falfehood in any private, or even public hiftory, at the time and place where it is faid to happen, is very great; but much more fo where the fcene is removed to ever fo fmall a diftance. Even a court of judica- ture, with all the authority, accuracy, and judge- ment which they can employ, find themfelves of- ten at a lofs to diilinguifh between truth and falfehood in the moil recent actions. But the matter never comes to any iffue, if trufted to the common method of altercation, and debate, and flying rumours , efpecially when rnens paflions have taken party on either fide. . In the infancy of new religions, the wife and learned 312 FABULOUS STORIES. learned commonly efteem the matter too incon- fiderable to deferve their attention and regard; And when afterwards they would willingly detet the cheat, in order to undeceive the deluded mul- titude, the feafon is now paft, and the records and witnefies, which might clear up the matter, have perimed beyond recovery. No means of de- telion remain but thofe which muil be drawn from the very teftimony itfelf of the reporters : and thefe, though always fufficient with the judi- cious and knowing, are commonly too fine to fall under the comprehenfion of the vulgar. MATTERS opFACTNOT DEMONSTRATIVELY CERTAIN. ALL the objects of human reafon and inquiry may be naturally divided into two kinds, viz. Relations of ideas, and matters of fa El. Of the firfl kind are the fciences of geometry, algebra, and arithmetic ; and, in fhort, every affirmation which is either intuitively or demonftratively certain. Propofitions of this kind are difcoverable by the mere operation of thought, without depen- dence on what is any where exiftent in the uni- verfe. Matters of fact, which are the fecond ob- jects of human reafon, are not ascertained in the fame manner ; nor is our evidence of their truth, 2 how- . , A C T. however great, of a like nature with the forego-* ing. The contrary of every matter of fact is flill poffible, becaufe it can never imply a contradic- tion; and is conceived by the mind with equal fa- cility and diftinftnefs, as if ever fo conformable to reality. That the fun ivi/l not rife to-morrow^ is no lefs intelligible a proposition, and implies no more contradiction, than the affirmation that it will rife. We fhould in vain, therefore, attempt to demonftrate its falfehood. Were it demon- ftratively falfe, it would imply a contradiction j and could never be diftinctly conceived by the mind. HUME. THE NATURE OF OUR REASONINGS CON- CERNING MATTERS OF FACT. ALL reafonings concerning matters of fact, feem to be founded in the relation of caufe and effect. By means of that relation alone, we can go beyond the evidence of our memory and fenfes. If you were to aflc a man, why he believes any matter of fact which is abfentj for inftance, that his friend is in the country, or in France? he 'would give you a reafon : and this reafon would be fome other facl , as a letter received from him, or the knowledge of his former refolutions and promifes. A man finding a watch, or any other machine, in a defert ifland, would conclude that VOL. I. Dd f thert 314 FACT. there had once been men in that ifland. All 'our reafonings concerning fact are of the fame nature. And here it is conftantly fuppofed, that there is a relation between the prefent fact and that infer- red from it. Were there nothing to bind them together, the inference would be entirely preca- rious. The hearing of an articulate voice and ra- tional difcourfe in the dark, allures us of the pre- fence of fome perfon. Why? Becaufe thefe are the effects of the human fhape and fabric, and clofely connected with it. If we anatomize all the other reafonings of this nature, we fhall find, that they are founded on caufe and effect; and that this relation is either near or remote, direct: or collateral. Heat and light are collateral effects of fire; and the one effect may juftly be inferred from the other. HUME. FAITH. THERE being many things wherein we have very imperfect notions, or none at all ; and other things, of whofe paft, prefent, or future exiftence, by the natural ufe of our faculties, we can have no knowledge at all; thefe, as being beyond the difcovery of our natural faculties, iid above reafon, are, when revealed, the pro- per matter of faith. Thus, that part of the angels rebelled agajnft God, and thereby loft their firft happy FAITH. 315 happy ftate; and that the dead {hall rife, and live again : thefe, and the like, being beyond the dif- covery of our reafon, are purely matters of faith; with which reafon has directly nothing to do. But fince God, in giving us the light of reafon, has not thereby tied up his hands from affording us, when he thinks fit, the light of revelation in any of thofe matters, wherein our natural fa- culties are able to give a probable determination; revelation, where God has been pleafed to give it, mufl carry it againft the probable conjectures of reafon : Becaufe the mind, not being certain of the truth of what it does not evidently know, but only yielding to the probability that appears in it, is bound to give up its afient to fuch a teilimony ; which, it is fatisfied, comes from one who cannot err, and will not deceive. But yet it ftill belongs to reafon to judge of the truth of its being a re- velation, and of the fignification of the words wherein it is delivered. Indeed, if any thing fnall be thought revelation which is contrary to the plain principles of reafon, and the evident know- ledge the mind has of its own clear and diftintt ideas ; there reafon muft be hearkened to, as to a matter within its province : fmce a man cant never have fo certain a knowledge, that a propo- fition which contradicts the clear principles and evidence of his own knowledge, was divinely re- vealed, or that he underftands the words rightly IX d 2 where - 316 FAITH. wherein it is delivered, as he has that the con- trary is true : and fo is bound to confider and judge of it as a matter of reafon, and not fwallow it, without examination, as a matter of faith. Firft, Whatever propofition is revealed, of whofe truth our mind, by its natural faculties and no- tions, cannot judge; that is purely matter of faith, and above reafon. Secondly, All p.ropofitions, whereof the mind, by the ufe of its natural faculties, can come to determine and judge from naturally acquired ideas, are matter of reafon; with this difference Mill, that in thofe concerning which it has but an uncertain evidence, and fo is perfuaded of their truth only upon probable grounds, which ftill admit a pcflibiiity of the contrary to be true, without doing violence to the certain evidence of its own knowledge, and overturning the prin- ciples of all reafon ; in fuch probable propositions', I fay, an evident revelation ought to determine our aflent even againft probability. For where the principles of reafon have not evidenced a propofition to be certainly true or falfe, there clear revelation, as another principle of truth, and ground of aflent, may determine; and fo it may be matter of faith, and be alfo above reafon, Becaufe reafon, in that particular matter, being able to reach no higher than probability, faith gave the determination where reafon came fhort; and FAITH. 317 and revelation difcovered on which fide the truth lay. Thus far the dominion of faith reaches, and that without any violence or hinderonce to rea- fon; which is not injured or difturbed, but aflifted and improved, by new difcoveries of truth coming from the eternal fountain of all knowledge. Who- ever God hath revealed, i& certainly true ; no doubt can be made of it; This is the. proper objecl of faith : but whether it be a divine revela- tion or no, reafon muft judge ; which can- never permit the mind to reject a greater evidence to embrace what is lefs evident, nor allow it to en- tertain probability in opposition to knowledge and certainty. There can be no evidence, that any traditional revelation is of divine original, in the words we receive it, and in the fenfe we underftand it, fo clear and fo certain, as that of the principles of reafon : and therefore nothing that is contrary to, and inconfiftent with the clear and felf-evident dictates of reafon, has a right to be urged or afiented to as a matter of faith, wherein reafon hath nothing to do. Whatfoever is divine revelation, ought to over-rule all our opinions, prejudices, and intereft, and hath a right to be received with full aflent. Such a, fubmillion as this, of our reafon to faith, takes not away the land-marks of knowledge ; this (hakes not the foundations of reafon, but leaves D d 3 us., f A I T H-. us that ufe of our faculties for which they were given us., LOCKE. ON THE SAME SUBJECT. BELIEF or difbelief can neither be a virtue or a crime in any one who ufed the beft means in his power of being informed. If a propofition is evident, we cannot avoid believing it; and where is the merit or piety of a neceffary afient ? If it is not evident, we cannot help rejecting it, or doubting of it; and where is the crime of not performing impofiibilities, or not believing what does not appear to us to be true ? WHITBT. FAITH AND REASON: IF the provinces of faith and reafon are not kept diftinft by thefe boundaries, there will, in, matters of religion, be no room for reafon at all ; and thofe extravagant opinions and ceremonies that are to be found in the feveral religions of the world, will not deferve to be blamed. For to this- crying up of faith, in oppofition to reafon, we may, I think, in good meafure, afcribe thofe abfurdities that fill almoft all the religions which po fiefs and divide mankind. For men having been principled with an opinion, that they muft not FAITH. 319 act confult reafon in the things of religion, how- ever apparently contradictory to common fenfe, and the very principles of all their knowledge, have let loofe their fancies and natural fuperfti- taon ; and have been by them led into fo ftrange opinions and extravagant practices in religion, that a confiderate man cannot but Hand amazed at their follies, and judge them, fo far from being acceptable to the great and wife God, that he cannot avoid thinking them ridiculous and offen- five to a fober good man. So that in effecl: re-- ligion, which fhould mod diftinguifh us from beads; and ought moft peculiarly to elevate us, as rational creatures, above brutes; is that where- in men often appear moft irrational and more fenfelefs than beads themfelves. Credo, quia im- fojjlbih eft, " I believe, becaufe it is impoflible," might in a good man pafs for a fally of zeal ; but would prove a very ill rule for men to choofe their opinions or religion by. FAME. A MAN, whofe talents and genius give him the confcioufnefs of deferving reputation, may let the public voice alone. He need not trouble' himfelf in dictating what it {hall determine j but wait, if I may fay fo, for future fame to come FAME. come and take his orders. He will Toon put to filence every inferior voice, as the force of the fundamental found in a concord deftroys every diflbnance which tends to alter the harmony. We rnuft act in fame as cautioufly as in ficknels; impatience is fatal in either of them. How many men are there diftinguifhed for their rare endowments, to whom we may apply the rebuke formerly made to a Carthaginian general : " The " gods do not give all talents to one ; you have " that of obtaining a victory, but not that of ufmg it." Renown is a kind of game at com- merce, where chance fometimfis gets a fortune ; but where merit acquires, in general, more certain gains j provided, that while it ufes the tricks of garnefters, it does not expofe itfelf to be betrayed by them. But it is too frequently confidered as a mere lottery, where perfons ima- gine they make their fortunes by inventing falfe tickets. D'ALEMBERT; ORIGIN OF THE LOVE OF FAME. OUR opinions of all kinds are ftrongly affected by fociety and fympathy ; and it is almoll impof- fible for us to fupport any principle or fentiment againft the univerfal confent of every one with whom we have any friendfhip or correfpondence. But of all our opinions, thcfe, which we form in FAME. 321 in our own favour, however lofty or prefuming, are at bottom the fraileft, and the mod eafily fhaken by the contradiction and oppofition of others. Our great concern, in this cafe, makes us foon alarmed, and keeps our paflions upon the watch ; our confcioufnefs of partiality flili makes us dread a miftake. And the very diffi- culty of judging concerning an object, which is never fet at a due diftance from us, nor is feen in a proper point of view, makes us hearken anxioufly to the opinions of others, who are bet- ter qualified to form juft opinions concerning us, Hence that flrong love of fame with which all mankind are poflefled. It is in order to fix and confirm their favourable opinion of themfelves, not frdm any original paflion, that they feek the applaufes of others. And when a man defires to be praifed, it is for the fame reafon that a beauty is pleafed with furveying herfelf in a fa- vourable looking-glafs, and feeing the reflection of her own charms. HUME. FANATICISM. FANATICISM is to fuperftition what a delirium is to a fever, and fury to anger : He who has ec- ftafies and vifions, who takes dreams for realities, and his imagination for prophecies, is an enthu- FANATICISM. fiaft ; and he who flicks not at fupporting his folly by murder, is a fanatic. The only remedy for this infectious difeafe is a philofophical temper, which fpreading through fociety, at length foftens manners, and obviates the excefles of the diftemper ; for whenever it gets ground, the beft way is to fly from it, and ftay till the air is purified. The laws and religion are no prefervative againft this mental peftilence. Re- ligion, fo far from being a falutary aliment in thefe cafes, in infected brains becomes poifon. . The laws likewife have proved very ineffectual againft this fpiritual rage ; it is indeed like read- ing an order of council to a lunatic. The crea- tures are firmly perfuaded that the fpirit by which they are actuated is above all laws, and that their enthufiafm is the only law they are to regard. What can be anfwered to a perfon who tells you, that he had rather obey God than men ; and who, in confequence of that choice, is cer- tain of gaining heaven by cutting your throat ? The leaders of fanatics, and who put the dag- ger into their hands, are ufually defigning knaves j they are like the old man of the mountain, who, according tohiftory, gave weak perfons a foretafte of the joys of paradife, promifmg them an eternity of fuch enjoyments, provided they would go and murder all thofe whom he fliould name to them. In the whole world, there has been but one re- ligion FANATICISM.' 323 ligion clear of fanaticifm, which is that of the Chinefe literati. As to the fects of philofophers, inftead of being infected with this peftilence, they were a ready and fure prefervative againil it : for the effect of philofophy is to compofe the foul, and fanaticifm is incompatible with tranquillity. VOLTAIRE. THE PUNISHMENT OF FANATICISM. PAINFUL and corporal punifhments fhould never be applied to fanaticifm ; for, being found- ed on pride, it glories in perfecution. Infamy and ridicule only fhould be employed againft fa- natics : if the firft, their pride will be overba- lanced by the pride of the people ; and we may judge of the power of the fecond, if we confider that even truth is obliged to funimon all her force when attacked by error armed by ridicule. Thus by oppofmg one paflion to another, and opinion to opinion, a wife legiflator puts an end to the admiration of the populace, occafioned by a falfe principle, the original abfurdity of which is reil- ed by fome well-deduced confequences. This is the method to avoid confounding the immutable relations of things, or oppofmg nature; whofe actions not being limited by time, but ope- rating inceflantlv, overturn and deftroy all thofe rain regulations which contradict her laws. It FANATICISM. is not only in the fine arts' that the imitation of nature is the fundamental principle ; it is the fame in found policy, which is no other than the art of uniting and directing to the fame end the natural and immutable fentiments of mankind. BECCARIAi FILIAL AFFECTION. THE bond that ties children to their parents is lefs ftrong than commonly imagined. Nothing is more common in Europe than to fee children defert their parents, when they become old, in- firm, incapable of labour, and forced to fubfifl by beggary. We fee, in the country, one father nourifh feven or eight children ; but feven or eight children are not fufficient to nourifh one fa- ther. If all children be not fo unnatural, if fome of them have affection and humanity, it is to education and example they owe that humanity* Nature, no doubt, defigned that gratitude and habit fliould form in man a fort of gravitation, by which they fhould be impelled to a love of their parents ; but it has a'fo defigned that man fhould have, iii the natural defire of independ- ence, a repulfive power, which fhould diminifh the too great force of that gravitation. From hence perhaps comes the proverb, founded on 2 common FILIAL AFFECTION. common and conftant obfervation, That the of parents defcends t and does not remount. HELVETIUS. FINAL CAUSES. A MAN muft be (it feems) ftark mad to deny that the ftomach is made for digeftion, the eye to fee, afid the ear to hear. On the other hand, he muft be ftrangely attached to final caufes to af- firm, that (lone was made to build houfes, and that China breeds filk worms to furnim Europe with fattin. But it is faid, if God has manifeftly made one thing with defign, he had a defign in every thing. To allow a Providence in one cafe, and deny it in another, is ridiculous. Whatever is made, was forefeen and arranged ; now every arrangement has its objeft, every effect its caufe : therefore every thing is equally the refult or the produft of a final caufe : therefore it is equally true to fay, that nofes were made to wear fpec- tacles, and fingers to be decorated with diamonds, as it is true to fay, that the ears have been made to hear founds, and the eyes to receive light. This difficulty, I apprehend, may be eafily cleared up, when the effects are invariably the fame in all times and places ; when fuch uniform effects are independent of the beings they apper- tain to, there then is evidently a final caufe. All animals have eyes, and they fee; all have ears, VOL. I. E e f and 326 FILIAL AFEECTION. and they hear; all a mouth, with which they eat; a ftomach, or fomething fimilar, by which they digeft ; all an orifice, which voids the excre- ments ; all an inftrument of generation ; and thefe natural gifts operate in them without the intervention of any art. Here are clear demon- ftrations of final caufes ; and to contradict fo uni- verfal a truth, would be to pervert our faculty of thinking. But it is not in all places, nor at all times, that flones form edifices ; all nofes do not \vear fpectacles ; all fingers have not a ring ; nor are all legs covered with filk {lockings : there- fore a filk- worm is not made to cover my legs, as your mouth is made to eat, &c. Thus there are effe&s produced by final caufes ; but withal many which cannot come within that appellation. But both one and the other are equally agreeable to the plan of a general providence ; for certainly nothing comes to pafs in oppofition to it, or fo much as without it. Every particular within the compafs of nature is uniform, immutable, and the immediate work of their Author. Men were not eflentially created to butcher one another; but the compofition we are made of is frequently productive of mafiacres, as it produces calum- nies, vanities, perfections, and impertinences : not that the formation of man is precifely the final caufe of our follies and brutalities ; a final jcaufe being univerfal r.n,d invariable, in all places, and FILIAL AFFECTION/ 327 and at all times. The crimes and abfurdities of the human mind are, neverthelefs, in the eternal order of things. In threfhing corn, the flail is the final caufe of the grain's feparation j but if the flail, threfhing the corn, deftroys a thoufand infecls, this is not from any determinate will of mine, neither is it mere chance : thefe infects were at that time under my flail ; and it was de- termined they were to be there, that is, it was confequential to the nature of things. The inftruments given to us by nature cannot be final caufes, ever in motion, and -infallible in their eiTecl. The eyes, given us for fight, are not always open ; every fenfe has its intervals of reft, and its exertion is frequently prevented by extraneous caufes ; neverthelefs the final caufe fubfifts, and as foon as it is free will act. VOLTAIRE. FLATTERY. EVERY body hates praife when he believes it to be falfe ; people then love flatterers only in the quality of fincere admirers. Under this it is im-. poffible not to love them ; becaufe every one be- lieves that his actions are laudable and worthy of praife. Whoever difdains elogiums, fuffers at lead people to praife him on this account. When they deteft a flatterer, it is becaufe they know him to be fuch. In flattery, it is not the praife, E e 2 but 3i8 FLATTERY. but the falfehood, which (hocks us. If the man of fenfe appears little fenfible of elogiums, it is becaufe he more frequently perceives the falfe- hood : but let an artful flatterer praife, perfift in praifmg him, and fometimes feem to cenfure with the elogiums he beftows; and even the man of the greateft fenfe and penetration will, fooner or later, be his dupe. This tafte derives its fource from a vanity common to all men. Every man, therefore, would be praifed and flattered ; but all would not have it done in the fame manner j and it is only in this particular that the difference be- tween them confifts. Of all praifes the moft flat- tering and delicate is, without difpute, that which moft evidently proves our own excellence. What gratitude do we owe to thofe who difcover to us defects that, without being prejudicial to us, af- fure us of our fuperiority ? Of all flattery this is the moft artful. HELVETIUS. FRIENDSHIP. FRIENDSHIP is a tacit contract between two fenfible and virtuous fouls : I fay fenfible 5 for a monk, a hermit, may not be wicked, yet live a ftranger to friendfhip. I add virtuous ; for the wicked have only accomplices, the voluptuous have companions, the defigning have aflbciates, the men of bufmefs have partners, the politicians form FRIENDSHIP. 327 form a falious band, the bulk of idle men have connexions, princes have courtiers; but virtuous men alone have friends. Cethegus was Catiline's accomplice, and Maecenas was- Oclavius's cour- tier ; but Cicero -was Atticus's friend. What is implied in this contract between two tender and ingenuous fouls ? Its obligations are ftronger and weaker, according to their degree of fenfibi- iity, and the number of good offices performed, VOLTAIRE, ON THE SAME SUBJECT. LOVE implies want, and there is no friendfhip without it ; for this would be an effect without a caufe. All men have not the fame wants ; and therefore the friendship that fubfifts between them is founded on different motives : fome want plea- fare or money, others credit ; thofe converfation, and thefe a confident to whom they maydifburthen, their hearts. There are eonfequently friends of money, cf intrigue, of the mind, and of 'misfor- tune. In friendfhip, as/ in love, people form the the moft romantic ideas ; they always fearch for the hero, and every i-nftant think they have found him. We are never fo violently affected with the virtues of a man as when we firfl fee him ; for as cuftom renders us infenfible to perfonal beau- ties, a good underftanding, and even the quali- E e 3 ties FRIENDSHIP. ties of the foul, we are never fo ftrongly agitated as by the pleafure of furprife. We generally love a man while we know little of him, and are defi- rous of knowing him better 5 but no fooner is this curiofity fatisfied, than we are difgufled. In confidering friendfhip as a reciprocal want, it can- not but be acknowledged, that it is very difficult for the fame wants, and confequently for the fame friendfhip, to fubfift between two men for a long courfe of time ; and therefore nothing is more uncommon than friendfhip of a long fland- ing. The circumflances in which two friends ought to be found being once given, and their characters known ; if they are ever to quarrel, there is no doubt but that a man of penetration, by forefeeing the time when thefe two men would ceafe to be reciprocally of ufe to each other, might calculate the moment when their rupture would happen, as an aflronomer calculates the time of an eclipfe. We ought not, however, to confound with friendfhip the chains of habit, the refpedHul efteem felt for an acknowledged friend, or that happy point of honour, fo ufeful to fo- ciety, that makes us keep an acquaintance with thofe whom we call our friends. We perform the fame fervices for them as we did when they filled us with the warmeft fenfations, though in reality we do not want their company. Friend- fhip fuppofes a want j and the more this want is felt, FRIENDSHIP. . 331 felt, the more lively will be the friendfhip ; the want is then the meafure of the fenfation. A man and woman efcaping fhipwreck, fave them- felves on a defert ifland ; where, having no hope of ever feeing their native country, they are for- ced to bend their mutual afliftance, to defend themfelves from the wild beafts, to enjoy life, and to efcape defpair : no friendfhip can be more warm than that between this man and woman, who perhaps would have hated each other had they remained at Paris. If one of them happens to perifh, the other has really loft the half of himfelf : no grief can equal his ; a perfon muft dwell alone on a defert ifland, who can be fenfible of all its violence. The unfortunate are in general the moft tender friends j united by their reciprocal diftref- fes, they enjoy, while condoling the misfortune of a friend, the pleafure of being affected with their own. What is true of circumftances, is alfo true of characters j there are fome who cannot live without a friend. The firft are, thofe of a weak and timid difpofition, who, in their whole conduct, never conclude on any thing without the advice and afliftance of others. .The fecond are, the perfons of a gloomy, fevere, and tyrannical difpofition, who are warm friends of thofe over whom they vent their fpleen : thefe are like one of the wives of Socrates, who, at the news of the death of that great man, became more incon- folable 332 FRIENDSHIP- folable than the fecond, \vlio being of a mild and amiable temper, loil in Socrates only an hufband^ \vhile the other loft in him the martyr of her ca- pricious temper, and the only man who could bear with it. If we loved a friend only for him- felf, we fhould never confider any thing but his happinefs; we fhould not reproach him for being fo long without feeing or writing to us; we fhould fay that he had probably fpent his time more a- greeably, and fnould rejoice in his happinefs. Men have taken great pains to repeat after each Other, that thofe ought not to be reckoned in the lift of friends whofe interested views make them love us only for our ability to ferve them. This kind of friendfhip is certainly not the mcft flat- tering j but it is neverthelefs a real friendfhip.. Men, for inftance, love in a minifter of ftate the power he has of obliging them ; and in moft of them the love of the perfon is incorporated with the love of the preferment. "Why is the name of friendfhip refufed to this fenfation ? Men do not love us for ourfelves, but always on fome other account; and the above-mentioned is as good as any other. A man is in love with a wo- man ; can it be faid he does not love her becaufe he only admires the beauties of her eyes or com- plexion ? But, it is faid, the rich man reduced to poverty is no longer beloved. This is not de- iiied ; but when the fmall-pox robs a woman of her FRI E N D s H i P. 333 her beauty, all addrefles to her commonly ceafe ; though this is no proof fhe was not beloved while (he was beautiful. Suppofe a friend in whom we had the greateft confidence, and for whofe mind, difpofition, and character, we had the greateft e- fteem, was fuddenly become blind, deaf, and dumb ; we fhould regret in him the lofs of a friend ; v/e fhould ftill refpect his memory ; but, in fact, we fhould no longer love him, becaufe he would have no refemblance to the man who was the object of our friendfhip. If a minifter of ftate fall into difgrace, we no longer love him 5 for this reafon, becaufe he is the friend who is fud- denly become blind, deaf, and dumb. It is never- thelefs true, that the man, anxious for preferment, has great tendernefs for him who can procure it for him. Whoever has this want of promotion is born the friend of the minifter of ftate. It is, then, our vanity that makes us refufe giving the name to fo felfifh and neceflary a paflion. It may, however, be obferved, that the moft folid and durable friendfhips are commonly thofe of virtu- ous men, however villains themfelves are fufcep- tible of it. If, as we are forced to confefs, friend- fhip is only the fenfation by which two men are united, we cannot deny but that friendfhips fub- fift between the wicked, without contradicting the moft authentic facts. Can we, for inftance, doubt that two confpirators may be united by the varmeft FRIENDSHIP. warmeft friendfhip ? That Jaffier did not love James Piero That Octavius, who was certainly uot a virtuous man, did not love Meczenas, who was at beft but a weak man ? The power of fricndiliip is not in proportion to the virtue of two friends, but to the force of the intereft by which they arc united. H E L v E T i u s. FUTURE PUNISHMENTS. IF Supreme Juftice avenges itfelf on the wick- ed, it avenges itfelf here below. It is you and your errors, ye nations ! that are its minifters of vengeance. It employs the evils you bring on each other, to punifh the crimes for which you deferve them. It is in the infatiable hearts of mankind, corroding with envy, avarice, and am- bition, that their avenging paflions punifh them for their vices amidft all the falfe appearances of profperity. Where is the neceflity of feeking a hell in another life, when it is to be found even in this, in the hearts of the wicked ? . Where our momentary neceffities or fenfelefs defires have an end, there ought our paflions and our vices to end alfo. Of what perverfity can pure fpirits be fufceptible? As they ftantl in need cf nothing, to what end fhould they be vicious ? If defkitute of our grcfier fenfes, all their happi- uefs confifts in the contemplation of things, they cannot FUTURE. 33- ctmnot be defirous of any thing but good ; and whoever ceafes to be wicked, is itpoflibje he fhould be eternally miferable ? ROUSSEAU. FUTURE REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. MAN is confidered as a moral, becaufe he is, regarded as an accountable, being: But an accountable being, as the word exprefles, is a being that muft give an account of its actions to fome other; and that confequently muft re- gulate them according to the good liking of this other. Man is accountable to God and his fellow-creatures. But though he is, no doubt, principally accountable to God, in the order of time he muft neceffarily conceive himfelf as ac- countable to his fellow-creatures, before he can form any idea of the Deity, or of the rules by which that Divine Being will judge of his con- duct. A child furely conceives itfelf as account- able to its parents, and is elevated or caft down by the thought of their merited approbation or 347 greed ; but hiftories are only the repofitories of great events: tempefts only are recorded j calms are overlooked. After examining the relations between the fprings and organs of an animal, and the defigns which difplay themfelves in every part, the man- ner by which this animal receives life, by which he fuftains it, and by which he gives it; you rea- dily acknowledge the fupreme Artift. Will you then change your opinion, becaufe wolves eat the fiieep, and fpiders catch flies ? Do not you, on the contrary, perceive, that thefe continual genera- tions, ever devoured, and ever reproduced, are a part of the plan of the univerfe? Wifdom and power, you fay, are perceivable in them, but good- nefs is ftill wanting. In fine, if you may be happy to all eternity, can any pains and afflictions in this life be worth mentioning ? You -cannot think the Creator good, becaufe there is fome evil in this world. But if neceflity fupply the place of a Supreme Being, will affairs be mended? In the fyftem which admits a God, fome difficulties only are to be removed ; in all the other fyftems, we mufb encounter abfurdlties. Philofophy, indeed, plainly (hows us, that there is a God ; but it cannot teach us what he is, what he is doing, how and wherefore he does it ; whe- iher he exifts in time or in fpace ; whether he has 343 COD. has commanded once, or whether he is always ac"ling , whether he be in matter, or whether he be not there, &e To himfelf only thefe things are known. VOLTAIRE. ON THE SAME SUBJECT. THOUGH God has given us no innate ideas of himfelf ; though he has flampt no original cha- racters on our minds, wherein we may read his being; yet having furnifhed us with thofe facul- ties our minds are endowed with, he hath not left himfelf without witnefs ; fince we have \ _ * fenfe, perception, and reafon, and cannot want a clear proof of him, as long as we carry ourfelves about us. Nor can we juftly complain of our ig- norance in this great point, fince he has fo plen- tifully provided us with the means to difcover and know him, fo far as is neceffary to the end of our being, and the great concernment of our happi- nefs. But though this be the moft obvious truth that reafon difcovers ; and though its evidence be (if I miftake not) equal to mathematical certainty; yet it requires thought and attention, and the mind muft apply itfelf to a regular deduction of it from fome part of our intuitive knowledge, or elfe we mail be as uncertain and ignorant of this as of pther propofitions, which are in themfelves capable of clear demonftration. To {how, there- 2 fore, GOB. 349 fore, that we are capable of knowing, i. e. being certain- that there is a God; and how we may come by this certainty, I think we need go no fur- ther than ourfelves, and that undoubted know- ledge we have of our own exiftence. Man knows by an intuitive certainty, that bare nothing can no more produce any real being, than it can be equal to two right angles. If a man knows not that non-entity, or the abfence of all being, cannot be equal to two right angles, it is impoflible he fhould know any demonftration in Euclid. If, therefore, we know there is fome real being, and that non-entity cannot produce any real being, it is an evident demonftration, that from eternity there has been fomething; fince what was not from eternity had a beginning, and what had a beginning muft be produced by fome- thing elfe. Next, it is evident, that what had its being and beginning from another, muft alfo have all that which is in, and belongs to its being, from ano- other too. All the powers it has muft be owing to, and received from, the fame fource. This eternal fource, then, of all being, muft alfo be the fource and original of all power; and fo this eternal Being muft be alfo the moft powerful. Again, a man finds in himfelf perception and knowledge : we have then got one ftep further ; and we are certain now, that there is not only VOL. I. f G g fome GOD. Come being, but fome knowing intelligent being in the world. There was a time, then, when there was no knowing being, and when knowledge began to be ; or elfe there has been alfo a knowing being from eternity. If it be faid, there was a time when no being had any knowledge, when that eternal being was void of all understanding ; I re- ply, that then it was impoflible there fhould ever have been any knowledge : it being as impoflible that things wholly void of knowledge, and ope- rating blindly, and without any perception, mould produce a knowing being, as it is impoflible that a triangle mould make itfelf three angles bigger than two right ones. For it is as repugnant to the idea of fenfelefs matter, that it fhould put into itfelf fenfe, perception, and knowledge, as it is repugnant to the idea of a triangle, that it fhould put into itfelf greater angles than two right ones. Thus from the confederation of ourfelves, and ivhat we infallibly find in our own conftitution, our feafon leads us to the knowledge of this cer- tain and evident truth, That there is an eternal, rnoft powerful, and moft knowing Being; which, whether any one will pleafe to call God, it mat- ters not. The thing is evident j and from this idea duly confidered, will eafily be deduced all thofe other attributes which we ought to afcribe to this eternal Being. If, neverthelefs, any one fhould be GOD. 351 be found fo fenfelefsly arrogant, as to fuppofe man alone knowing and wife, but yet the product of mere ignorance and chance, and that all the reft of the univerfe acted only by that blind hap- hazard ; I (hall leave with him that very rational and emphatical rebuke of Tully 1. ii. De Leg. to be confidered at his leifure. " What can be more " fillily arrogant and mifbecoming, than for a man " to think that he has a mind and underftanding " in him, but yet in all the univerfe befide there " is no fuch thing ? Or that thofe tilings, which " witli the utmoft ftretch of his reafon he can '* fcarce comprehend, fliould be moved and ma- " naged without any reafon at all ?" Quid eft enim verius, quam neminem effe oporterc tarn flulte ar- rogant em, ut infe mentem et rationem putet ineffe^ in calo mundcque non ptitet? From what has been faid, it is plain to me, we have a more certain knowledge of the exiftence of a God, than of any thing our fenfes have not immediately difcovered to us. Nay, I prefume I may fay, that we more certainly know that there is a God, than that there is any thing elfe without us. When I fay we know, I mean there is fuch a knowledge within our reach which we cannot mifs, if we will but apply our minds to that as we do to feveral other inquiries. LOCKE. G g 2 THE GOOD. THE PREVALENCE OF GOOD OVER EVIL. THAT the good overbalances the evil in the phyfical and moral world, is clear from their fub- fitting with regularity and order. If evil prepon- derated in the former, nature would foon deftroy herfclf ; if in the latter, rational beings would put an end to their own exiftence. The preference of life to death in one, and the prevalence of or- der over diforder in the other, lead us to the fame defirable conclufion. From the oppofition of the different elements in the phyfical world arifes all phyfical evil; fuch as ftorms and earthquakes: but from tliis fame oppofition arifes all the phyfical good; fuch as the regularity of the whole, the vi- ciffitude of feafon, generation, vegetation, and an endlefs variety of other beneficial effects. From the contrariety of interefts in the moral world, arife wars, devaftations, and murders ; but from the fame contrariety proceed peace, order, har- mony, commerce, art, and fcience, with every advantage of cultivated fcience. To complain that there is pain in the moral world, is as un- reafonable, and as abfurd, as to complain that there is darknefs in the phyfical; as all cannot be light in the one, fo neither can all be pleafure in the other. It is enough if pleafure preponderate ; and that point has been already eftablifhed. # * THE GOVERNMENT. 355 THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A FREE AND A DESPOTIC GOVERNMENT. THE difference between a free and a defpotic ftate, confifts in the manner in which that whole mafs of power, which, taken together, is fupreme, is, in a free ftate, diftributed among the feveral ranks of perfons that are (harers in it : in the fource from whence their titles to it are fuccef- fively derived : in the frequent and eafy changes of condition between the governors and governed; whereby the interefts of one clafs are more or lefs indiftinguifhably blended with thofe of the other: in the refponfibility of the governors-; or the right which a fubjeft has of having the reafons publicly affigned and canvafied of every al of power that is exerted over him : in the liberty of the prefs ; or the fecurity with which every man, be he of the one clafs or the other, may make known his complaints and remonftrances to the whole community: in the liberty of public aflbciations ; or the fecurity with which malcon- tents may communicate their fentiments, concert their plans, and pratife "every mode of oppofition ihort of aclual revolt, before the executive power can be juitined in difturbing them. JER. BENTHAM. G g 3 RESIST- 254 GOVERNMENT. RESISTANCE TO GOVERNMENT. IT is then, and not till then, allowable to, if not incumbent on every man, as well on the fcore of duty as of intereft, to enter into meafures of re- fiftance ; when,, according to the beft calculation he can make, the probable rnifchiefs of refiftance (fpeaking with refpec"l to the community in ge- neral), appear lefs to him than the probable mil- chiefs of fubmiflion. This then is to him, that is, to each man in particular, the juncture of refiit- ance. A natural queftion here is, By what fign {hall this juncture be known ? By wh?.t common Cgnal alike confpicuous to all ? A common fign. there is none. Every man muft be determined by his own internal perfuafion of a balance of uti- lity on the fide of refiftance ; for utility is the tefl and meafure of loyalty. It may be faid, that the letter of the law is the meafure of government in free ilates ; and not that other loofe and general rule, To govern in fubfervience to the happinefs of the people. True it is, that the. governing in oppofition to the law is one way of governing in oppofition to the happinefs of the people: the na- tural effect of fuch a contempt of the law being, if not actually to deftroy, at leaft to threaten with deftruction, all thofe rights and privileges that are founded on it ; rights and privileges, on the en- joyment, GOVERNMENT. joyment of which that happinefs depends. But itill this is not fufficient; and that for feveral rea- fons. />>/?, ^Becaufe the mod mifchievous, and under fome conftkutions the mofl feafible, me- thod of governing in opposition to the happinefs of the people, is, by fetting the law itfelf in op- pofition to their happinefs. Secondly, Becaufe it is a cafe very conceivable, that a king may, to a great degree, impair the happinefs of his people without violating the letter of any fingle law. Thirdly, Becaufe extraordinary occafions may now and then occur, in which the happineis of the people may be better promoted by acting, for the moment, in oppofition to the lav/, than hi fubfer- vience to it. Fourthly, Becaufe it is not any fingle violation of the law, as fuch, that can rcleafe the people from allegiance ; for it is fcarce ever any fingle violation of the law that, by being fubmit- ted to, can produce fo much mifchief as (hall fur- pafs the probable mifchief of refilling it. If every Cngle inftance whatever of fuch violation were to be deemed an entire releafe from allegiance, a man, who reflects at all, would fcarce find any- where under the fun, that government which he could allow to fubfifl for twenty years together. Utility then is the teft and meafure of all govern- ment ; and the obligation of governors of every denomination to minifter to general happinefs, is an obligation fuperior to, and inclufive of every other. GOVERNMENT other. This is the reafon why kings, on the one hand, fhould in general keep within eftabliihett laws ; and, to fpeak universally, abftain from all fuch meafures as tend to the unhappinefs of their fubjects : and, on the other hand, why fubjects Should obey kings as long as they fo conduct them- felves, and no longer ; why they fhould obey, in fhort, fo long as the probable mifchiefs of obedi- ence are lefs than the probable mifehiefs of refifl> cnce: why, in a word, taking the whole body to- gether, it is their duty to obey juft fo long as it is their uitereft, and no longer where a ftate is li- mited by exprefs convention, as the German Em- pire, Dutch Provinces) Swifs Cantons, and the ancient Achaean league. There we may be fur- nifhed with a common figrial of refiftance. A certain act is in the instrument of convention fpe- eifted, with refpect to which, the government is therein precluded from ifiuing a law to a certain effect. A law is iflued to that effect notwith {landing. The ifluing then of fuch a law (the fenfe of it, and likewife the fenfe of that part of the convention which provides againft it, being fuppofed clear) is a fact notorious and vifible to all : in the iffuing then of fuch a law we have a fact which is capable of being taken for that com- mon fignal of refiftance, Thefe bounds the fu- preme body has marked out to its authority: of fuch a demarcation, then> what is the efFeft ? Ei- tlier GOVERNMENT. 357 tTier none at all ; or this, that the difpofition to obedience confines itfelf within thefe bounds. Be- yond them die difpofition is (lopped from extend- ing : beyond them the fubjecl: is no more prepa- red to obey the governing body of his own ftate, than that of any other. No convention, how- ever, fhould prevent what the parties affetled (hall deem a reformation : no difeafe in a flate fhould be without its remedy. Such might by fome be thought the cafe, where that fupreme body, which in fuch a convention was one of the contracting parties, having incorporated itfelf with that which was the other, no longer fubfuls to give any new modification to the engagement. Although that body itfelf which contracted the engagement be no more, a larger body, from whence the firfl is underflood to have derived its title, may flill fub- fift. Let this larger body be confulted. Various are the ways that might be conceived of doing this , and that without any difparagement to the dignity of the fubfiiling legiflature: of doing it to fuch effect., as that, fhould die fenfe of fuch lar- ger body be favourable to the alteration, it may be made by a lawj which, in this cafe, neither ought to be, nor probably would be, regarded by the people as a breach of the convention. JER. 358 GOVERNMENT. ON THE SAME SUBJECT. RANK, privileges, and prerogatives in a flate, are conftituted for the good of the (late ; and thofe who enjoy them, whether they be called kings, fenators, or nobles, or by whatever names or titles they be diflinguifhed, are, to all intents and purpofes, the fervants of the public, and ac- countable to the people for the difcharge of their refpective offices. If fuel; mngiflratcs abufe their truft, in the people lies the right of dtpcfcigy and confequently of puniihing them. And the only reafon why abufes which have crept into offices have been connived at, is, that the corre&ing them, by having recourfe to firft principles, is far from being eafy, except in fmall dates ; fo that the remedy would often be worfe than the dif- eafe. But, in the largefl dates, if the abufes of government mould at any time be great and ma- nifeft ; if the fervants of the people, forgetting their mafters, and their mafters intereft, fhould purfue a feparate one of their own; if, inflead of confidering that they are made for the people, they mould confider the people as made for them; if the opprefTions and violations of right fhould be great, flagrant, and univerfully refdnted; if, in confequence of thefe circumftances, it mould be- come marJfeftj that the riik which would be run in GOVERNMENT. 359 an attempting a revolution would be trifling, and the evils which might be apprehended from it, Tvere far lefs than thofe which were actually fuf- fered, and which were daily increafing ; what principles are thofe which ought to reftrain an in- jured and infulted people from afferting their na- tural rights, and from changing, or even punifh- ing their governors, that is, their fervants, who had abufed their truft ; or from altering the whole form of their government, if it appeared to be of a ftructure fo liable to abufe? It will be faid, that it is opening a door to rebellion, to aflert that ma- giftrates abufing their power may be fet afide by the people, who are of courfe their own judges when their power is abufed. May not the people, it is faid, abufe their power as well as their go- vernors ? I anfwer, It is very poflible they may abufe their power: it is poflible they may imagine themfelves opprefled when they are not : it is pof- fible their animofity may be artfully and unrea- fonably inflamed by ambitious aaid enterprifing men, whofe views are often beft anfwered by po- pular tumults and infurre&ions ; and the people may fuffer in confequence of their folly and pre- cipitancy: But what man is there, or what body of men (whofe right to direct their own conduct was never called in queftion) but are liable to be impofed upon, and to fuffer in confequence of their miftaken apprehenfions and precipitate conduct ? With 360 GOVERNMENT. With refpeft to large focieties, it is very im- probable rhat the people mould be too foon alarm- ed, fo as to be driven to thefe extremities. In fuch cafes, the power of the government, that is, of the governors, muft be very extenfive and ar- bitrary; and the power of the people fcattered and difficult to be united ; fo that if a man have common fenfe, he will fee it to be madnefs to pro- pofe, or to lay any meafures againft the govern- ment, except in cafe of very general and great op- preflion. Even patriots, in fuch circumstances, will confider that prefent evils always appear greater in confequence of their being prefent; but that the future evils of a revolt, and a tem- porary anarchy, may be much greater than are apprehended at a diftance. They will alfo confi- der, that unlefs their meafures be perfectly well laid, and their fuccefs decifive, ending in a change, not of men, but of things ; not of governors, but of the rules and adminift ration of government, they will only rivet their chains the fafter, and bring upon themfelves and their country tenfold ruin. So obvious are thefe difficulties that lie in the way of procuring redrefs of grievances by force of arms, that I think we may fay, without excep- tion, that in all cafes of hoftile oppofition to go- vernment, the people muft have been in the right; and that nothing but very great oppreffion could drive them to fuch defperate meafures. The bulk 3 f GOVERNMENT. of a people fcldom fo much as complain without reafon, becaufe they never think of complaining till they feel ; fo that in all cafes of diflatisfac- tion with government, it is mod probable that the people are injured. The cafe, I own, may be otherwife in dates of fmall extent, where the power of the governors is comparatively fmall, and the power of the people great and foon uni- ted. If it be afked, how far a people may law- fully go in punifhing their chief magiftrates? I an- fwer, that if the enormity of the offence (which is of the fame extent as. the injury done to the public) be confidered, any punifhment is juftifi- able that a man can incur in human fociety. It may be faid, there are no laws to punifh thofe governors, and we muft not condemn perfons by laws made ex pqft fafto , for this conduct will vindicate the mod obnoxious meafures of the moft tyrannical adminidration. But I anfwer, that this is a cafe, in its own nature, prior to the eftablifh- ment of any laws whatever; as it affefts ihe very being of fociety, and defeats the principal ends for which recourfe was originally had to it. There inay be no fixed law againd an open invader who ihould attempt to feize upon a county with a view to enfiave all its inhabitants ; but mud not the invader be apprehended, and even put to death, though he hath broken no exprefs law then in being, or none of which he was properly ap- VOL. I. 2 Hh prifed? 362 GOVERNMENT. prifed ? And why mould a man, who takes the advantage of being king, or governor, to fubvert the laws and liberties of his country, be confidered in any other light than that of a foreign invader ? Nay, his crime is much more atrocious ; as he was appointed the guardian of the laws and li- berties which he fubverts, and which he was therefore under the ftrongeft obligation to main- tain. In a cafe, therefore, of this highly crimi- nal nature, Salus populi fuprema ejl lex ; " That " muft be done which the good of the whole re- " quires:" and generally kings depofed, banimed, or imprifoned, are highly dangerous to a nation; becaufe, let them have governed ever fo ill, it will be the intereft of fome to be their partifans, and to attach themfelves to their caufe. So plain are thefe firft principles of all government that they mud overcome the meaneft prejudices, and carry conviction to every man. Whatever be the form of any government, whoever be the fupreme ma- giftrates, or whatever be their 'number j that is, to whomfoever the power of the fociety is dele- gated, their authority is in its own nature rever- Cble. No man can be fuppofed to refign his na- tural liberty, but on conditions. Thefe condi- tions, whether they be exprefied or not, muft be violated, whenever the plain and obvious ends of government are not anfwered ; and a delegated power, perverted from the intention for -which it GOVERNMENT. 363 was beftowed,^ expires of courfe. Magiftrates, therefore, who confult not the good of the pub- lic, and who employ their power to opprefs the people, are a public nuifance ; and their power is abrogated ipfo fafto. This, however, can only be the cafe in extreme oppreffion, when the bleffings of fociety and civil government, great and im~ portant as they are, are bought too dear ; when it is better not to be governed at all, than to be go- verned in fuch a manner ; or, at leaft, when the hazard of a change of government would be ap- parently the lefs evil of the two ; and, therefore, thefe occafions rarely occur in the courfe of hu- man affairs : but where they do occur, refiftance is a duty, and a regard to the good of fociety will certainly juflify this conduct of the people. PR.IESTLEY. CIVIL GOVERNMENT. WHETHER government be the appointment of a pretended religion-, whether originating with the Patriarchs; or owing to a focial compact?- are not matters worthy of inquiry. If it produce happinefs at home, and be juft and beneficent to all the world ; it is good, it is valuable, and (hould be fupported : If it be otherwife ; if it rei> der people corrupt, depraved, and miferable ; if it be unjuft and oppreiuve to its dependants and H h 2 neigh- 054 GOVERNMENT. *? neighbours; its origin is not worth inveftigating: for, be its dcfcent what it may, it is an injury, and an evil, and a curfe ; and mankind may and ought to treat it as fuch. WILLIAMS. GOVERNMENT. HAD every man fufficient fagacity to perceive, at all times, the ftrong intereft which binds him. to the observance of juftice and equity, and ftrength of mind fufficient to perfevere in a fteady adherence to a general and a diftincl intereft, in oppofition to die allurements of prefent pleafure and advantage ; there had never, in that cafe, been any fuch thing as government or political fo- ciety; but each man, following his natural liberty, had lived in entire peace with all others. What need of pofidve laws, where natural juftice is of itfelf a fuflicient reftraint ? Why create magi- ftrates, where there never arifes any diforder or iniquity ? Why abridge our native freedom, when, in every inftance, the utmoft exertion of it is found innocent and beneficial ? It is evident, that if government were totally ufelefs, it never could have place ; and that the fole foundation of the duty of allegiance is the advantage which it pro- cures to fociety, by preferving peace and order among mankind. As the obligation to juftice 19 founded GOVERNMENT. 365 founded entirely on the interefts of fociety, which require mutual abftirtence from property, in or- der to preferve peace among mankind ; it is evi- dent, that when the execution of juftice would be attended with very pernicious confequences, that virtue muft be fufpended, and give place to public utility, in fuch extraordinary and prefling emergencies. The maxim, Fiat juftitia et ruat calwn, " Let juftice be performed, though the uni- verfe be deftroyed," is apparently falfe ; and by facrificing the end to the means, fhows a prepo- flerous idea of the fubordination of duties. What governor of a town makes any fcruple of burning the fuburbs, when they facilitate the advances of the enemy ? Or what general abftains from plun- dering a neutral country, when the neceflities of war require it, and he cannot otherwife main- tain his army ? The cafe, is the fame with the duty of allegiance; and common fenfe teaches us, that as government binds us to obedience only on account of its tendency to public utility, that duty muft always, in extraordinary cafes, when public ruin would evidently attend obedience, yield *o the primary and original obligation. Sa- lus pcpulifuprema. lex ; " The fafety of the people is the fupreme law." This maxim is agreeable- to the fentiments of mankind in all ages. Accord- ingly we may obferve, that no nation, that could find any remedy, ever yet fuffered the cruel ra- H h 3 vages GOVERNMENT. vages of a tyrant, or were blamed for their refift- ance. Thofe who took up arms againft Diony- fuis or Nero, or Philip II. have the favour of every reader in the perufal of their hiftory ; and nothing but die moft -violent perverfion of com- mon fenfe can ever lead us to condemn them. Government is a mere human invention for the intereft of focietyj and where the tyranny of the governor removes this intereft, it alfo removes the obligation to obedience. Refiftance, there- fore, being admitted in extraordinary cafes, the queftion can only be with regard to the de- gree of neceflity which can juflify refiftance, and render it lawful and commendable j which can only be in defperate cafes, when the public is in the higheft danger from violence and tyranny. For befides the mifchiefs of a civil war, which commonly attend infurrettions, it is certain that, where a difpofition to rebellion appears among any people, it is one chief caufe of tyranny in the rulers. Thus the tyrannicide or aiTaffina- tion approved of by ancient maxims, inftead of keeping tyrants and ufurptrs in awe, made them ten times more fierce and unrelenting; and is now juftly, on that account, abolifhed by the laws of nations. HUME. GOVERNMENT. 367 1 ON THE SAME SUBJECT. THE general good is the end of all jufl govern* ment ; and all the. rules of conduct agreed upon, all the ftatutes, laws, and precepts enacted and promulgated, are made with a view to promote and fecure the public good : and therefore the very nature and defign of government requires new laws to be made, whenever it is found that the old ones are not fufficient j and old ones to be repealed, whenever they are found to be mif- chievous in their operation. If the eflential parts of any fyftem of civil government are found to be inconfiftent with the general good, the end of government requires that fueh bad fyftem fhould be demolifhed, and a new one formed, by which the public weal (hall be more effectually fecured. And further, if, under any conftitution of government, the adminiftration ihould vary from the fundamental defign of promoting and fecuring the common goodj in fuch cafe the fub- jects are in duty bound to join all their ftrength to reduce matters to their original good order. LAYTHROP'S Sermon at Bcflon. PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT. TO begin with firft principles, we muft, for die fake of gaining clear ideas on the fubje&> do what 36% GOVERNMENT. what almoil all political writers have done before us ; that is, we muft fuppofe a number of people exifting, who experience the inconvenience of Jiving independent and unconnected ; who . are expofed without redrefs to infults and wrongs of various kinds, and are too weak to procure them- felves many of the advantages which they are fenfible might eafily be compafTed by united ilrength. Thefe people, if they would engage the protection of the whole body, 1 and join their force in enterprifes and undertakings calculated for the common good, muft voluntarily refiga fome part of their natural liberty, and fubmk their conduct to the direction of die community: for without thefe conceptions, fuch an alliance, attended with fuch advantages, could not be formed. Were thefe people few in number, and living within frnall diilances of one another, it might be eafy for. them to aflemble upon every occafion, in which the whole body was concern- ed ; and every thing might be determined by the votes of the majority, provided they had previou-fly agreed the votes of the majority to be decifive. But were the fociety numerous, their habitations remote, and the occafions on which the whole body mult interpofe frequent, it would be abfo- lutely impoffible that all the members of the ftate (hould aflemble, or give th'eir attention to public bufinefs. In this cafe, though, with Roufleau^ it be GOVERNMENT. 369 be giving up their liberty, there mud be deputies or pubHc officers appointed to ac"l in name of the whole body ; and, in a (late of very great extent, where all the people could never be aflembled, the whole power of the community muft necef- farily, and almoft irreverfibly, be lodged in the hands of thefe deputies. It may be faid, no fc- ciety on earth was ever formed in the manner re- -prefented above. I anfwer, it is true 5 becaufe all governments whatever have been in fome mea- fure compulfory, tyrannical, and oppreflive in their origin j but the method I have defcribed rnuft be allowed to be the only equitable and fair method of forming a fociety. And fince every man retains, and can never be deprived of his natu- ral right (founded on a regard to the general good) of relieving himfelf from all oppreffion, that is, from every thing that has been impofed upon him without his own confent ; this muft be the only true and proper foundation of all the govern- ments fubfifting in the world, and that to which the people who compofe them have an unalien- able right to bring them back. It muft necefTa- rily be underftood, then, whether it be exprefled or not, that all people live in fociety for their mu- tual advantage; fo that the good and happinefs of the members, that is, the majority of the mem- bers, of any ftate, is the great ftandard by which every thing relating to that ftate muft finally be deter- 37$ GOVERNMENT. determined. And though it may be fuppofed, that a body of people may be bound by a volun- tary refignation of all their intereils to a fmgle perfon, or to a few, it can never be fuppofed that the refignation is obligatory on their poflerity; becaufe it is manifeftly contrary to the good of the iu hole that itjbou'd be fo. In treating of particu- lar regulations in dates, this principle muft necef- farily obtrude itfelf ; all arguments in favour o any law being always drawn from a conii deration of its tendency to promote the public good. Vir* tue and right conduct confift in thofe affections and actions which terminate in general utility^ juftice and veracity, for inftance, having nothing intrinfically excellent in them, feparate from their relation to the happinefs of mankind; and the whole fyftem of right to power, property, and every thing elfe in fociety, muft be regulated by the fame confideration : the decifive queftion, when any of thefe fubje&s are: examined, be- ing, What is it that the good of the community requires ?. PRIESTLEY. END os THE FIRST VOLUME. ELLIOT, Bookfeller in Edinburgh, begs leave "" to inform the Public, that he has juft purchafed from the Proprietors the whole remaining COPIES of the fol- lowing extenfive and valuable Work, \vhichrefledb honour upon the Editors, and that part of the country which pro- duced it. 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