XXI.

THE SURPRISING CONTRARIETIES IN THE NATURE OF MAN, WITH REGARD TO TRUTH HAPPINESS, AND VARIOUS OTHER THINGS.

NOTHING is more astonishing in the nature

of man, than the contrarieties which are observable in him, with regard to every subject. He is made for the knowledge of truth; he ardently desires, and pursues it; and yet, when he endeavours to lay hold on it, he so dazzles and confounds himself, that he makes it doubtful whether he has actually attained it. This gave rise to the two sects, of Pyrrhonians, and Dogmatists; of which one endeavoured utterly to deprive men of all knowledge of truth; while the other endeavoured infallibly to assure him of it but each with reasons so improbable, that they only increase our confusion and perplexity, as long as we continue without any other light than that which we find in ourselves.

The principal arguments of the Pyrrhonians, or Sceptics, are as follow. That we have no other certainty of the truth of any principles

(if we except faith and revelation) than, that we naturally feel them within ourselves. But this natural perception of them is no convincing evidence of their truth; because, since without faith we have no assurance whether man was created by a good God, or by some evil Dæmon; whether he has existed from eternity, or been the offspring of chance. It may be doubted whether these principles which have been given us are true, or false, or uncertain; this depending on the nature of our origin. Further, that no person can tell, except by faith, whether he is asleep or awake; because in our sleep we as strongly fancy ourselves to be awake as when we really are so: we imagine that we see space, figure, and motion: we perceive the time pass away; we calculate it; in short, we act as if we were awake. Therefore, as by our own confession, one half of our life is spent in sleep, during which, whatever we may suppose, we have no notion of truth, all our ideas being mere illusions, who can tell but the other half of our life, in which we think ourselves awake, is not also a sleep, a little different from the former, from which we awake when we think ourselves asleep, as we sometimes dream that we dream, heaping one reverie upon another.

I leave the declamations of the same sect against the impressions of custom, education,

manners, countries, and other such things which govern the greatest part of mankind, who form their opinions on no other foundation.

The only fort of the Dogmatists is this, that, if we speak honestly and sincerely, no man can doubt of natural principles. We have a knowledge of truth, say they, not only by reasoning, but by intuition, and by a clear and vivid intelligence; and it is in this way that we attain our knowledge of first principles. It is therefore in vain for reason, which has no share in producing them, to attempt to attack them. The Sceptics, who make this their object, are labouring totally in vain. We know when we are awake, however unable we may be to demonstrate it by reasoning. This inability shows nothing more than the feebleness of our rational powers, but not the uncertainty of all our knowledge, as they pretend. For the knowledge of first principles, as, for instance, that there are such things as space, time, motion, number, matter, is as certain as any with which our reasonings furnish us. Nay, it is upon this knowledge by perception and intuition that reason must rest, and found all its procedures. I perceive that there are three dimensions in space, and that number is infinite; and my reason afterward demonstrates, that there are no two square numbers assignable, one of which is exactly double the

clude propositions: and both with equal cer'tainty, though by different ways. And it is as ridiculous for reason to demand of perception and intelligence, a demonstration of these first principles, before it consents to them, as it would be for the intellect to demand of reason, a clear intuition of the propositions it demonstrates. This inability, therefore, can only serve to humble reason, which wants to be the judge of every thing; but not at all to diminish our certainty, as if nothing but reason were capable of instructing us. Would to God, that, on the contrary, we had no occasion for it at all, and that we knew every thing by instinct and intuition. But nature has denied us this favour, and allows us but little knowledge of this sort; all the rest we must acquire by reasoning.

Here then is open war among men. We must all enlist on one side or the other; for he that thinks to stand neuter is most effectually a Pyrrhonian: this neutrality is the very essence of Pyrrhonism; he who is not against them, must be in a superlative manner for them. What shall a man do in this situation? Shall he doubt of every thing? Shall he doubt whether he is awake, whether another pinches him or burns him? Shall he doubt whether he doubts? Shall he doubt whether he exists? It seems impossible to come to this; and therefore I take it for granted, that there never was a complete and

absolute Sceptic. Nature sustains the weakness of reason, and keeps it from this degree of extravagance: but shall a man say, on the contrary, that he is in sure possession of truth; he who, if you press him ever so little, can produce no title to belief, and is obliged to quit his hold?

Who shall unravel this perplexity? Nature confutes the Pyrrhonians; Reason, the Dogmatists. What will then become of thee, O man, who art seeking the knowledge of thine own condition, by thy natural reason? Thou canst neither avoid both these sects, nor continue in either!

Such is man, with regard to truth. Let us now consider him with respect to felicity, which he seeks with so much earnestness through the whole of his actions: for all men desire to be happy; this is a rule without exception. How different soever may be the means they employ, all have the same end in view. That which makes one man go to the wars, and that which makes another stay away, is the same desire, attended in each with different views. The will never stirs the least step but toward this object. It is the motive of all the actions of all men, not excepting even those who hang and destroy themselves.

And yet, after so many ages, no person with