1 will have it, that this is philosophy, I shall not dispute about the word; but I insist on it, that all such philosophy is no better than pedantic nonsense; and that, if a man were to write a book, to prove, that fire is the element in which we ought to live, he would not act more absurdly, than some metaphysicians of these times would be thought to have acted, if their works were understood, and rated according to their intrinsic merit. That every thing may be made matter of dispute, is another favourite maxim of the school-logic; and it would not be easy to devise one more detrimental to true science. What a strange propensity these doctors have had to disputation! One would think, that, in their judgment," the chief end of man is, to "contradict his neighbour, and wrangle with him "for ever." To attempt a proof of what I know to be false, and a confutation of what I know to be true, is an exercise from which I can never expect advantage so long as I deem rationality a blessing. I never heard it prescribed as a recipe for strengthening the sight, to keep constantly blindfolded in the daytime, and put on spectacles when we go to sleep; nor can I imagine how the ear of a musician could be improved, by his playing frequently on an ill-tuned fiddle. And yet the school-men seem to have thought, that the more we shut our eyes against the truth, we shall the more distinctly perceive it; and that the oftener we practise falsehood, we shall be the more sagacious in detecting, and the more hearty in abhorring it. To suppose, that we may make every thing matter of dispute, is to suppose, that we can account for every thing. Alas! in most cases, to feel and believe, is all we have to do, or can do. Destined for action rather than for knowledge, and governed more by instinct than by reason, we can extend our investigations, especially with regard to ourselves, but a very little way. And, after all, when we acquiesce with implicit confidence in the dictates of our nature, where is the harm or danger of such a conduct? Is our life shortened, or health injured by it? No. Are our judgments perverted, or our hearts corrupted? No. Is our happiness impaired, or the sphere of our gratification contracted? Quite the contrary. Have we less leisure for attending to the duties of life, and for adorning our minds with useful and elegant literature? We have evidently more time left for those purposes. Why then so much logic? so many disputes, and so many theories, about the first philosophy? Rather than in disguising falsehood, and labouring to subvert the foundations of truth, why do we not, with humility and candour, employ our faculties in the attainment of plain, practical, and useful knowledge? The consequences of submitting every sentiment and principle to the test of reasoning, have been considered already. This practice has, in every age tended much to confound science, to prevent the detection of error, and (may we not add?) to debase the human understanding. For, have we not seen real genius, under the influence of a disputatious spirit, derived from nature, fashion, or education, evaporate in subtlety, sophistry, and vain refinement? Lucretius, Cicero, and Des Cartes, might be mentioned as examples. And it will be matter of lasting regret in the republic of letters, that a greater than the greatest of thesc, I mean John Milton, had the misfortune to be born in an age when the study of scholastic theology was deemed an essential part of intellectual discipline. It is either affectation, or false modesty, that makes men say they know nothing with certainty. Man's knowledge, indeed, compared with that of superior beings, may be very inconsiderable; and compared with that of the Supreme, is "as nothing and vani"ty;" and it is true, that we are daily puzzled in attempting to account for the most familiar appearances. But it is true, notwithstanding, that we do know, and cannot possibly doubt of our knowing some things with certainty. And, "Let school-taught pride dissemble all it can, To be vain of any attainment, is presumption and folly but to think every thing disputable, is a proof of a weak mind and captious temper. And however sceptics may boast of their modesty, in disclaiming all pretensions to certain knowledge, I would appeal to the man of candour, whether they or we seem to possess least of that virtue ;-they, who suppose that they can raise insurmountable objections in every subject; or we, who believe, that our Maker has permitted us to know with certainty some few things? In opposition to this practice of making every thing matter of dispute, we have endeavoured to shew, that the instinctive suggestions of common sense are the ultimate standard of truth to man; that whatever contradicts them is contrary to fact, and therefore false; that to suppose them cognisable by reason, is to suppose truth as variable as the intellec tual, or as the argumentative abilities of men; and that it is an abuse of reason, and tends to the subversion of science, to call in question the authenticity. *Goldsmith's Traveller. of our natural feelings, and of the natural suggestions of the human understanding. That science never prospered while the old logic continued in fashion, is undeniable. Lord Verulam was one of the first who brought it into disrepute ; and proposed a different method of investigating" truth, namely, that the appearances of nature should be carefully observed, and instead of facts being wrested to make them fall in with theory, that theory should be cautiously inferred from facts, and from them only. The event has fully proved, that our great philosopher was in the right: for science has made more progress since his time, and by his method, than for a thousand years before. The court of Rome well knew the importance of the school-logic in supporting their authority; they knew it could be employed more successfully in disguising error, than in vindicating truth and Puffendorff scruples not to affirm, that they patronised it for this very reason*. Let it not then be urged, as an objection to this discourse, that it recommends a method of confutation which is not strictly logical. It is enough for me that the method here recommended is agreeable to good sense and sound philosophy, and to the general notions and practices of men. CHA P. II. The subject continued. Estimate of Metaphysic. Causes of the Degeneracy of Moral Science. IIE reader has no doubt observed, that I have frequently used the term metaphysic, as if it implied something worthy of contempt or censure. That no lover of science may be offended, I shall now acDe Monarchia Pontificis Romani, cap. 34. count for this; by explaining the nature of that metaphysic which I conceive to be repugnant to true philosophy, though it has often assumed the name; and which, therefore, in my judgment, the friends of truth ought solicitously to guard against. This explanation will lead to some remarks that may perhaps throw additional light on the present subject. Aristotle bequeathed by legacy his writings to Theophrastus; who left them, together with his own, to Neleus of Scepsis. The posterity of Neleus being illiterate men, kept them for some time locked up; but afterwards hearing, that the king of the country was making a general search for books to furnish his library at Pergamus, they hid them in a hole under ground; where they lay for many years, and suffered much from worms and dampness. At last, however, they were sold to one Apellicon, who caused them to be copied out; and, having (according to Strabo) a greater passion for books than for knowledge, ordered the transcribers to supply the chasms from their own invention. When Sylla took Athens, he seized on Apellicon's library, and carried it to Rome. Here the books of Aristotle were revised, by Tyrannio the grammarian, and afterwards by Andronicus of Rhodes, a Peripatetic philosopher, who published the first complete edition of them. To fourteen of these books, which it seems had no general title, Andronicus prefixed the words, Ta meta ta physica †, that is, the books posterior to the physics; either because in the order of the former arrangement, they happened to be placed, or because the editor meant that they *Strabo, p. 609. † Τὰ μετὰ τα φυσικά. Paris edit. 1620. Plut. Sylla. N n |