moment, or if, after reflection, you produce any intricate or profound argument, you, in a manner, give up the queftion, and confefs, that it is not reafoning which engages us to fuppose the past resembling the future, and to expect fimilar effects from caufes, which are, to appearance, fimilar. This is the propofition which I intended to enforce in the present section. If I be right, I pretend not to have made any mighty discovery. And if I be wrong, I must acknowledge myself to be indeed a very backward scholar; fince I cannot now difcover an argument, which, it seems, was perfectly fimilar to me long before I was out of my cradle.

SECTION V.

SCEPTICAL SOLUTION OF THESE DOUBTS.

THE

PART I.

HE paffion for philosophy, like that for religion, feems liable to this inconvenience, that though it aims at the correction of our manners, and extirpation of our vices, it may only ferve, by imprudent management, to fofter a predominant inclination, and push the mind, with more determined refolution, towards that fide which already draws too much, by the bias and propensity of the natural temper. It is certain, that, while we aspire to the magnanimous firmness of the philofophic fage, and endeavour to confine our pleasures altogether within our own minds, we may, at last, render our philofophy like that of EPICTETUS, and other Stoics, only a more refined system of selfishness, and reason ourfelves out of all virtue as well as focial enjoyment. While we study with attention the vanity of human life, and turn all our thoughts towards the empty and tranfitory nature of riches and honours, we are, perhaps, all the while, flattering our natural indolence, which, hating the bustle of the world, and drudgery of bufinefs, feeks a pretence of reason to give itself a full and uncontrolled indulgence. There is, however, one species of philofophy which feems little liable to this inconve

nience,

nience, and that because it strikes in with no diforderly paffion of the human mind, nor can mingle itself with any natural affection or propenfity; and that is the ACADEMIC OF SCEPTICAL philofophy. The academics always talk of doubt and suspence of judgment, of danger in hafty determinations, of confining to very narrow bounds the inquiries of the understanding, and of renouncing all speculations which lie not within the limits of common life and practice. Nothing, therefore, can be more contrary than fuch a philofophy to the fupine indolence of the mind, its rash arrogance, its lofty pretenfions, and its fuperftitious credulity. Every paffion is mortified by it, except the love of truth; and that paffion never is, nor can be, carried to too high a degree. It is furprising, therefore, that this philosophy, which, in almost every instance, must be harmless and innocent, should be the fubject of fo much groundless réproach and obloquy. But, perhaps, the very circumftance which renders it fo innocent, is what chiefly exposes it to the public hatred and refentment. By flattering no irregular paffion, it gains few partizans: By oppofing fo many vices and follies, it raises to itself abundance of enemies, who ftigmatize it as libertine, profane, and irreligious.

Nor need we fear, that this philosophy, while it endeavours to limit our inquiries to common life, should ever undermine the reasonings of common life, and carry its doubts fo far as to destroy all action as well as fpeculation. Nature will always maintain her rights, and prevail in the end over any abstract reasoning whatfoever. Though we should conclude, for instance, as in the foregoing fection, that, in all reafonings from experience, there is a ftep taken by the mind, which is not fupported by any argument or process of the understand

ing; there is no danger that these reasonings, on which almost all knowledge depends, will ever be affected by fuch a discovery. If the mind be not engaged by argument to make this step, it must be induced by fome other principle of equal weight and authority; and that principle will preserve its influence as long as human nature remains the fame. What that principle is, may

well be worth the pains of inquiry.

Suppose a person, though endowed with the strongest faculties of reafon and reflection, to be brought on a sudden into this world; he would, indeed, immediately obferve a continual fucceffion of objects, and one event following another; but he would not be able to discover any thing farther. He would not at firft, by any reafoning, be able to reach the idea of cause and effect; fince the particular powers, by which all natural operations are performed, never appear to the senses; nor is it reafonable to conclude, merely because one event in one inftance precedes another, that therefore the one is the cause, the other the effect. Their conjunction may be arbitrary and cafual. There may be no reason to infer the existence of one from the appearance of the other: And in a word, fuch a person, without more experience, could never employ his conjecture or reafoning concerning any matter of fact, or be affured of any thing beyond what was immediately prefent to his memory and fenfes.

Suppose again, that he has acquired more experience, and has lived fo long in the world as to have observed fimilar objects or events to be conftantly conjoined together; what is the confequence of this experience? He immediately infers the existence of one object from the appearance of the other: Yet he has not, by all his experience, acquired any idea or knowledge of the fecret

power,