An essay on the nature and immutability of truth, in opposition to sophistry and scepticism

Contents

Page*

PART !•

Of the Standard of Truth. * . ' 20

Chap. II

All reasoning terminates in first principles. All evidence ultimately intuitive. Common sense the standard of truth to man. 36 Sect. 1. Of Mathematical Reasoning, • 37 Sect. 2. Of the evidence of External Sense, 41 Sect. 3. Of the evidence of Internal Sense, or

Consciousness, « . . • 46

Sect. 4. Of the evidence of Memory, . 61 Sect. 5. Of Reasoning from the effect to the

Sect. 6. Of Probable or Experimentarl Rea^ soning, . . . . . . 79

Sect. 7. Of Analogical Reasoning, ♦ 83

Sect. 8. Of Faith in Testimony, • 86

Sect. 9. Conclusion of this Chapter. Further Proof. General remarks on Scepticism, 92

Part II

Illustrations of the preceding Doctrine, with Inferences, . . • . . 102

CHAP. I.

Confirmation of this Doctrine from the practice, Sect. 1. Of Mathematicians, . . 104

Sect. 2. Of Natural Philosophers, . 112

Sect. 2. The subject continued. Intuitive Truths distinguishable into classes^ - 13^

^y CONTENTS.

CHAP. II. Page.

This Doctrine rejected by Sceptical Philosophers, . . . , . . 145

Sect. 1. General Observations. Rise and progress of Modern Scepticism. — Of Des Cartes ^ and Malebranche. — Locke and Berkeley. — General view of Mr. Hume's Theory of the ^ Understanding, .... 146

Sect. 2. Of the non-existence of Matter, 176

Sect. 3. Of Liberty and Necessity, . 199

, CHAP. III.

Recapitulation and Inference. Criterion of Truth, . . - , . . .248

PART. III. Objections Answered, . . . 251

CHAP. I.

The principles of this Essay consistent with the interests of Science, and the rights of mankind. Imperfection of liie School-logic, 253

CHAP. II.

The subject continued. Estimate of Metaphysic and Metaphysical writers. Causes of the present degeneracy of Moral Science, 270

Introduction

TO those who love learning and mankind, and who are more ambitious to distinguish themselves as men, than as disputants, it is matter of humiliation and regret, that names and things have so oft been mistaken for each other ; that so much of the philosopher's time must be employed in ascertaining the signification of words ; and that so many doctrines, of high reputation, and of ancient date, when traced to their first principles, have been found to terminate in verbal ambiguity. If I have any knowledge of my own heart, or of the subject I propose to examine, I may venture to assure the reader, that it is^no part of the design of this book, to encourage verbal disputation. On the contrary, it is my sincere purpose to avoid, and to do every thing in my power to check it; convinced as I am^ that it never can do any good, and that it has been the cause of much evil, both in philosophy and in common life. And I hope I have a fairer chance to escape it, than some who have gone before me in this part of science. I aim at no paradoxes ; my prejudices (if certain instinctive suggestions of the understanding may be so called) are all in favour of truth and virtue; and I have no principles to support, but those which seem to me, to have influenced the judgment of a great majority of mankind in all ages of the world.

Some readers may think, that there is but little merit in this declaration ; it being as much for my own credit, as for the interest of mankind, that I guard against a practice, which is acknowledged to be always unprofitable and generally pernicious. A

B

6 INTROi:>UCTION.

verbal disputant! whatx:laim can he have to the title of philosopher ! what has he to do with the laws of nature, with the observation of facts, with life and manners ! Let him not intrude upon the company of men of science ; but repose with his brethren Aquinas and Suarez, in the corner of some Gothic cloister, dark as his understanding, and cold as his heart. Men are now become too judicious to be amused with words, and too firm-minded to be confuted with quibbles. — Many of my contemporaries would readily join in this apostrophe, who^et are themselves the dupes of the most egregious dealers in logomachy that ever perverted the faculty of speech. In fact, from some instances that have occurred to my own observation, I have reason to believe, that verbal controversy has not always, even in this age, been accounted a contemptible thing ; and the reader, when he comes to be better acquainted with my sentiments, will perhaps think the foregoing declaration more disinterested than at first sight it may appear.

They who form opinions concerning the manners and principles of the times, may be divided into three classes. Some will tell us, that the present age transcends all that have gone before it, in politeness, learning, and good sense ; will thank Providence (or their stars) that their lot of life has been cast in so glorious a period ; and wonder how men could support existence amidst the ignorance and barbarism of former days. By others we are accounted a generation of triflers and profligates ; sciolists in learning, hypocrites in virtue, and formalists in good breeding ; wise only when we follow the ancients, and foolish whenever we deviate from them. Sentiments so violent are generally wrong : and therefore I am disposed to adopt the notions of those who may be considered as forming an intermediate class j who, though not blind to the follies, are yet willing to acknowledge the virtues, both of past ages, and of the present. And surely, in every age, and in every man, there is something to praise, as well as something to blame.

When I survey the philosophy of the present age, I find much matter of applause and admiration. Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, and Natural History, in all their branches, have risen to a pitch of perfection, that does signal honour to human capacity, and far surpasses what the most sanguine projectors of former times had any reason to laok for : and the paths to further improvement in those sciences are so clearly marked out, that nothing but |ionesty and attention seem requisite to ensure the success of future adventurers. Moral Philosophy and Logic have not been so fortunate. Yet, even here, we have happily got rid of much pedantry and jargon ; our systerns have more the appearance of liberal sentiments, good taste, and correct composition, than those of the schoolmen ; we disclaim (at least in words) all attachment to hypothesis and party ; profess to study men and things, as well as boolcs and words ; and assert, with the utmost vehemence of protestation, our love of truth, of candour, and of sound philosophy. But let us not be deceived by appearances. Neither Moral Philosophy, nor the kindred sciences of Logic and Criticism, are at present upon the most desirable footing. The rage of paradox and system has transformed them (although of all sciences these ought to be the simplest and the clearest) into a mass of confusion, darkness, and absurdity. One kind of jargon is laid aside ; but another has been adopted, more fashionable indeed, but not less frivolous. Hypothesis, though verbally disclaimed, is really adhered to with as much obstinacy as ever. Words have been defined, but their meaning still remains indefinite. Appeals have been made to experience ;

8 . INTRODUCTIOjNf^

but with such misrepresentation of fact, and in such equivocal language, as plainly shew the authors to have been more concerned for their theory, than for the truth. All sciences, and especially Moral Philosophy, ought to regulate human practice : practice is regulated by principles, and all principles suppose conviction : yet the aim of our most celebrated moral systems is, to divest the mind of every principle, and of all conviction ; and, consequently, to disqualify man for action, and to render him as useless, and as wretched, as possible. In a word, Scepticism is now the profession of every fashionable inquirer into human nature ; a scepticism which is not confined to points of mere speculation, but has been extended to practical truths of the highest importance, even to the principles of morality and religion. Proofs of all these assertions will appear in the sequel.

I said that my prejudices are all in favour of truth and virtue. To avow any sort of prejudice, m^ay perhaps startle some readers. If it should, I must here intreat all such to pause a moment, and ask of their own hearts these simple questions : Are virtue and truth useful to mankind ? Are they matters of indifference ? Or are they pernicious ? If any one finds himself disposed to think them pernicious, or matters of indifference, I Vvould advise him to lay my book aside ; for it does not contain one sentiment in which he can be interested ; nor one expression with which he can be pleased. But he who believes that virtue and truth are of the highest importance, that in them is laid the foundation of human happiness, and that on them depends the very existence of human society, and of human creatures, that person and I are of the same mind ;

I have no prejudices that he would wish me not to have : he may proceed ; and I hope he will proceed with pleasure, and encourage, by his approbation.

rNTROI^UCTION. 9

this honest attempt to vindicate truth and virtue ; and to overturn that pretended philosophy which supposes, or which may lead us to suppose, every dictate of conscience, every impulse of understanding, and every information of sense, questionable and ambiguous.

This sceptical philosophy (as it is called) seems to me to be dangerous, not because it is ingenious, but because it is subtle and obscure. Were it rightly understood, no confutation would be necessary ; for it does in fact, confute itself, as I hope to demonstrate. But many, to my certain knowledge, have read it, and admitted its tenets, who do not understand the grounds of them ; and many more, swayed by the fashion of the times, have greedily adopted its conclusions, without any knowledge of the premises, or any concern about them. An attempt therefore to expose this pretended philosophy to public view, in its proper colours, will not, I hope, be censured as impertinent by any whose opinion I value : if it should, I shall be satisfied with the approbation of my own conscience, which will never reproach me for intending to do good.

I am sorry, that in the course of this inquiry, it will not always be in my power to speak of some celebrated names with that deference, to which su« periov talents, and superior virtue, are always entitled. Every fri end of civil and religious lilferty , every lover of mankind, every admirer of sincerity and simple manners, every heart that warms at the recollection of distinguished virtue, must consider Locke as one of the most amiable, and most illustrious men that ever our nation produced. Such he is, such he will ever be, in my estimation. The parts of his philosophy to which truth obliges me to object, are but few, and compared with the extent and importance of his other writings, extremely inconsiderable. I object, to them, because I think them erroneous and dangerous; and I am convinced, that their author, if he had lived to see the inferences that have been drawn from them, would have been the first to declare them absurd, and would have expunged them from his works with indignation, — Berkeley was equally amiable in his life, and equally a friend to truth and virtue. In elegance of composition he was perhaps superior. I admire his virtues : I can never sufficiently applaud his zeal in the cause of religion : but some of his reasonings on the subject of human nature I cannot admit, without renouncing my claim to rationality. 'Inhere is^ a writer now alive, of whose philosophy I have much to say. By his^ philosophy, I mean the sentiments he has published in a book called, A Treatise of Human Nature^ in three volumes, printed in the year 1739; the principal and most dangerous doctrines of w^hich he has since republished again, and again, under the title of.

Essays Moral and Political^ i^c. Of his other works I say nothing; nor have I at present any concern with them. Virgil is said to have been a bad prosewriter ; Cicero was certainly a bad poet : and this author, though not much acquainted with human nature, and therefore not well qualified to write a treatise upon it, may yet be an excellent politician, financier, and historian. His merit in these respects is indeed generally allowed : and if my suffrage could add any thing to the lustre of his reputation, I should here, with great sincerity and pleasure, join v^ voice to that of the public, and make such an encomium on the author of the Historij of England as would not offend any of his rational admirers. But whv is this author's character so replete with inconsistency ! why should his prin^ ciples and his talents extort at once our esteem and detestation, our applause and contempt ! That he, whose manners in private life are said to be so agreeable to many of his acquaintance, should yet in the public capacity of an author, have given so much cause of just offence to all the friends of virtue and mankind, is to me matter of astonishment and sorrow, as well as of indignation. That he, who succeeds so well in describing the fates of nations, should yet have failed so egregiously in explaining the operations of the mind, is one of those incongruities in human genius, for which perhaps philosophy will never be able fully to account. That he, who has^o imj-artially stated the opposite pleas and principles of our political factions, should yet have adopted the most illiberal prejudices against natural and revealed religion : that he, who on some occasions has displayed even a profound erudition,- should at other times when intoxicated with a favourite theory, have suffered affirmations to escape him, which would have fixed the opprobrious name of Sciolist on a less celebrated author: and finally, that a moral philosopher, who seems to have exerted his utmost ingenuity in searching after paradoxes, should yet happen to light on none, but such as are all, without exception, on the side of licentiousness and scepticism ; — these are inconsistencies perhaps equally inexplicable ; at least they are such as I do not at present choose to explain. And yet, that this author is chargeable with all these inconsistencies, will not, I think, be denied by any person of sense and candour, who has read his writings with attention. His philosophy has done great harm. Its admirers, I know, are very numerous; but I have not as yet met with one person, who both admired and understood it. We are prone to believe what we wish to be true : and most of this author's philosophical tenets are so well adapted to what I fear I may call the fashionable notions of the times, that those who are ambitious to conform to the latter, will hardly be disposed to examine scrupulously the evidence of the former. Having made this declaratiori,

which I do in the spirit of an honest man, I must take the liberty to treat this author with that plainness, which the cause of truth, the interests of society, and my own conscience, require. The same candour that prompts me to praise, will also oblige me to blame. The inconsistency is not in me, but in him. Had I done but half as much as he, in labouring to subvert principles which ought ever to he held sacred, I know not whether the friends of truth would have granted me any indulgence : I am sure they ought not. Let me be treated with the lenity due to a good citizen, no longer than I act as becomes one.

If it shall be acknowledged by the candid and intelligent reader, that I have in this book contributed something to the establishment of old truths, I shall not be much offended, though others should pretend to discover that I have advanced nothing new. Indeed I would not wish to say any thing on these subjects, that has not often occurred to the common sense of mankind. In Logic and Morals, we may have new treatises, and new theories ; but we are not now to expect new discoveries. The principles of moral duty have long been understood in these enlightened parts of the world ; and mankind^ in the time that is past, have had more truth under their consideration, than they will probably have in the time to come. Yet he who makes these sciences the study of his life, may perhaps collect particulars concerning their evidence, which though known to a few, are unknown to many ; may set ^ome principles in a more striking light than that in which they have been formerly viewed; may devise methods of confuting new errors, and exposing new paradoxes; and may hit upon a more popular way of displaying what has hitherto been exhibited in too dark and mysterious a form.

It is commonly allowed, that the science of human nature is of all human sciences the most curious and important. To Khow ourselves, is a precept which the wise in all ages have recommended, and which is enjoined by the authority of revelation itself. Can any thing be of more consequence to man, than to know what is his duty, and how he may arrive at happiness? It is from the examination of his own heart that he receives the first intimations of the one, and the only sure criterion of the other. — What can be more useful, more delightful, and more sublime, than to contemplate the Deity? It is in the works of nature, particularly in the constitution of the human soul, that we discern the first and most conspicuous traces of the Almighty ; for without some previous acquaintance with our own moral nature, we could not have any certain knowledge of His. — Destitute of the hope of immortality, and a future retribution, how contemptible, how miserable is man ! And yet, did not our moral feelings, in concert with what reason discovers of the Deity, evidence the necessity of a future state, in vain should we pretend to judge rationally of that revelation by which life and immortality have been brought to light.

Hovi then is this science to be learned? In what manner are we to study human nature ? Doubtless by examining our own hearts and feelings, and by attending to the conduct of other men. But are not the writings of philosophers useful towards the attainment of this science ? Most certainly they are : for whatever improves the sagacity of judgment, the sensibility of moral perception, or the delicacy of taste ; whatever renders our knowledge of moral and intellectual facts more extensive; whatever impresses our minds with more enlarged and more powerful sentiments of duty, with more aiFectIng views of God and Providence, and with greater energy of belief in the doctrines of natural religion ; — every thing of this sort either makes us more thoroughly acquainted, or prepares us for becoming more thoroughly acquainted with our own nature, and with that of other beings, and with the relations which they and we bear to one another. But I fear we shall not be able to improve ourselves in any one of these respects, by reading the modern systems of scepticism. What account then are we to make of those systems and their authors ? The following Dissertation is partly designed as an answer to this question. But it has a further view : w^hich is, to examine the foundations of this scepticism, and see whether these be consistent with what all mankind must acknowledge to be the foundations of truth ; to inquire, whether the cultivation of scepticism be salutary or pernicious to science and mankind ; and whether it may not be possible to devise certain criteria, by which the absurdity of its conclusions may be detected, even by those who may not have leisure or subtilty, or metaphysical knowledge, sufficient to qualify them for a logical confutation of all its premises. If it be confessed, that the present age has some tendency to licentiousness, both in principle and practice, and that the works of sceptical writers have some tendency to favour that licentiousness ; it will also be confessed, that this design is neither absurd nor unseasonable.

A celebrated writer^* on human nature has observed, that " if truth be at all within the reach of human capacity, it is certain it must lie very deep and abstruse:" and a little after he adds, ''that he would esteem it a strong presumption against the philosophy he i$ going to unfold, were it so very eiasy and obvious." I am so far from adopting this opinion, that I declare in regard to the few things I have to say on human nature, that I should esteem it a very strong presumption against them, if they were not easy and obvious. Physical and mathematical truths are often abstruse ; but facts and experiments relating to the human mind, when expressed in proper words, ought to be obvious to all. I find that those poets, historians, and novelists, who have given the most lively displays ef human nature, and who abound most in sentiments easily comprehended, and readily admitted as true, are the most entertaining, as well as the most useful. How then should the philosophy of the human mind be so difficult and obscure ? Indeed, if it be an author's determinate purpose to advance paradoxes, some of which are incredible, and others beyond comprehension ; if he be willing to avail himself all he can of the natural ambiguity of language in supporting those paradoxes ; or if he enter upon inquiries too refined for human understanding ; he must often be obscure, and often unintelligible. But my views are very different. I intend only to suggest some hints for guarding the mind against error; and these, I hope, will be found to be deduced from principles which every man of common capacity may examine by his daily experience.

It is true, that several subjects of intricate speculation are treated of in this book. But I have endeavoured, by constant appeals to fact and experience, by illustrations and examples the most familiar I could think of, and by a plainness and perspicuity of expression which sometimes may appear too much affected, to treat of them in a way, that I hope cannot fail to render them intelligible, even to those who are not much conversant in studies of this kind. Truth, like virtue, to be loved, ne^ds only to be seen. My principles require no disguise ; on the contrary, they will, if I mistake not, be most easily admitted by those who best understand them. And I am persuaded, that the sceptical system would never have made such an alarming progress, if it had been well understood* The ambiguity of its language, and the intricacy and length of some of its fundamental investigations, have unhappily been too successful in producing that confusion of thought, aud indistinctness of apprehension, in the minds both of authors and readers, which are so favourable to error and sophistry.

Few men have ever engaged in controversy, religious, political, or philosophical, without being in some degree chargeable with misconception of the adversary's meaning. That I have never erred in this way, I dare not affirm. But I am conscious of having done every thing in my power to guard against it. The greater part of these papers have lain by me for several years. They have been repeatedly perused by some of the acutest philosophers of the age, whom I have the honour to call my friends, and to whose advice and assistance, on this, as on other occasions, I am deeply indebted. I have availed myself all I could of reading and conversation ; and endeavoured, with all the candour I am master of, to profit by every hint of improvement, and to examine to the bottom every objection, that others have offered, or myself could devise. And may I not be permitted to add, that every one of those who have perused this essay, has advised the author to publish it ; and that many of them have encouraged him by this insinuation, to him the most flattering of all others. That by so doing, he would probably be of some service to the cause of truth, virtue, and mankind? In this hope he submits it to the public. And it is this hopa only that could have induced him to attempt po-

INTRODUCTION. - If

iemical disquisition : a species of writing, which, in^his own judgment, is not the most creditable; which he knows, to his cost, is not the most pleasing ; and of which he is well aware that it cannot fail to draw upon him the resentment of a numerous, powerful and fashionable party. But,

Welcome for thee, fair virtue ! all the pas ; For thee, fair virtue ! welcome even the last.

If these pages, which he hopes none will condemn who have not read, shall throw any light on the first principles of moral science : if they shall suggest, to the young and unwary, any cautions against that sophistry, and licentiousness of principle, which too much infect the conversations and com^ positions of the age ; if they shall, in any measure,^^ contribute to the satisfaction of any of the friends of truth and virtue ; his purpose will be completely answered : and he will, to the end of his life, rejoice in the recollection of those painful hours which he passed in the examination of this most important controversy.

yaniiary^ 1 770.

AN

ESSAY

ON THE

^JS'ATURE AND IMMUTABILITY OF TRUTH ^

IN OPPOSITION TO

SOPHISTRY AND SCEPTICISM.

I PURPOSE to treat this subject in the following manner.

First, I shall endeavour to trace the several kinds of Evidence and Reasoning up to their first principles ; with a view to ascertain the Standard of Truth, and explain its immutability.

Secondly, I shall show that my sentiments on this head, however inconsistent with the genius of scepticism, and with the practice and principles of sceptical writers, are yet perfectly consistent with the genius of true philosophy, and with the practice and principles of those who are universally allowed to have been the most successful in the investigation of truth : concluding with some inferences or rules, by which the more important fallacies of the sceptical philosophy may be detected by every person of common sense, even though he should not possess acuteness or metaphysical knowledge sufficient to qualify him for a logical confutation of them^

Thirdly, I shall answer some objections ; and make some remarks, by way of Estimate of Scepticism and sceptical writers^

I divide my discourse in this manner, chiefly with a view to the reader's accommodation. An exact arrangement of parts is necessary to Qonf^ o

AN ESSAY ON TRUTH. PART I.

elegance on a whole ; but I am more studious of utility than of elegance. And though my sentiments might have been exhibited in a more systematic order, I am apt to think, that the order in which they first occurred to me is the most natural, and may be the most effectual for accomplishing my purpose.

Part I. Of The Standard Of Truth

THE love of truth has ever been accounted a good principle. Where it is known to prevail, we expect to find integrity and steadiness ; a temper of mind favourable to every virtue, and tending in an eminent degree to the advancement of public utility. To have no concern for the truth, to be false and fallacious, is a character which no person who is not utterly abandoned would choose to bear ; it is a character from which we expect nothing but levity and inconsistence. Truth seems to be considered by all mankind as something fixed, unchangeable, and eternal ; it may therefore be thought that to vindicate the permanency of truth is to dispute without an adversary. And indeed, if these questions were proposed in general terms, — Is there such a thing as truth? Are truth and falsehood different and opposite ? Is truth permanent and eternal ? — few persons would be hardy enough to answer in the negative. Attempts, however, have been made, sometimes through inadvertence, and sometimes (I fear) from design to undermine the foundations of truth, and to render their stability questionable ; and these attempts have been so vigorously forwarded, and so often renewed, that they now constitute a great part of what is called the philosophy of the human 7mnd* t^AT. I. AN ESSAY ON TRUTH. Si

^ It is difficulty perhaps impossible, to give a logical definition of TPruth. But we shall endeavour to give such a de,scription of it, as may make others understand what we mean by the word. The definitions of former writers are not so clear, nor so accurate, ' as could be w^ished. These therefore we shall overlook, without seeking either to explain or to correct them ; and shall satisfy ourselves with taking notice of some of the mental phenomena that attend the perception of truth. This seems to be the safest way of introducing the subject*

CHAPTER L

Of the PercepfAon of Truth in general*

ON hearing these propositions : I exist, — - Things equal to one and the same thing are equal to one another, — The sun rose to-day,— There is a God, — Ingratitude ought to be blamed and punished, — The three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, &c. — I am conscious, that my mind readily admits and acquiesces in them. I say, that I believe them to be true ; that is, I conceive them to express something conformable to the nature of things^. Of the contrary propositions I should say, that my mind does not acquiesce in them, but disbelieves them, and conceives them to express something not conformable to the nature of things. My judgment in this case, I conceive to be the same which I should form in regard to these propositions, if I were perfectly acquainted with all nature, in all its parts, and in all its lawsf.