tually swimming in the air before me; in this I should be mistaken. How then come I to know that I am mistaken? I may know it in several ways. 1. I stretch out my hand to the place where the circle seems to be floating in the air; and having felt nothing, I am instantly convinced, that there is no tangible substance in that place. Is this conviction an inference of reason? No; it is a conviction arising from our innate propensity to believe, that things are as our senses represent them. By this innate, or instinctive propensity, I believe that what I touch exists; by the same propensity I believe, that where I touch nothing, there nothing tangible does exist. If in the present case I were suspicious of the veracity of my senses, I should neither believe nor disbelieve. 2. I turn my eyes towards the opposite quarter of the heavens; and having still observed the same circle floating before them, and knowing by experience, that the motion of bodies placed at a distance from me does not follow or depend on the motion of my body, I conclude, that the appearance is owing, not to a real, external corporeal object, but to some disorder in my organ of sight. Here reasoning is employed but where does it terminate? It terminates in experience which I have acquired by means of my senses. But if I believed them fallacious, if I believed things to be otherwise than my senses represent them, I should never acquire experience at all. Or, 3. I apply, first to one man, then to another, and then to a third, who all assure me, that they perceive no such circle floating in the air, and at the same time inform me of the true cause of the appearance. I believe their declaration, either because I have had experience of their veracity, or because I have an innate

propensity to credit testimony. To gain experience implies a belief in the evidence of sense, which reasoning cannot account for; and a propensity to credit testimony previous to experience or reasoning, is equally unaccountable *.-So that, although we acknowledge some of our senses, in some instances, deceitful, our detection of the deceit, whether by the evidence of our other senses, or by a retrospect to our past experience, or by our trusting to the testimony of other men, does still imply, that we do and must believe our senses previously to all reasoning †.

A human creature born with a propensity to disbelieve his senses, would be as useless and helpless as if he wanted them. To his own preservation he could contribute nothing; and, after ages of being, would remain as destitute of knowledge and experience, as when he began to be.

Sometimes we seem to distrust the evidence of our senses, when in reality we only doubt whether we have that evidence. I may appeal to any man, if he were thoroughly convinced that he had really, when awake, seen and conversed with a ghost, whether any reasoning would convince him that it was a delusion. Reasoning might lead him to suspect that he had been dreaming, and therefore to doubt whether or not he had the evidence of sense; but if he were assured that he had that evidence, no arguments whatsoever would shake his belief.

SECT. III,

Of the Evidence of Internal Sense, or Consciousness. Y attending to what passes in my mind, I know, not only that it exists, but also that it exerts certain powers of action and perception; which, on *See sect. 8, of this chapter. + See part 2. chap. 1. sect. 2.

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account, either of a diversity in their objects, or of a difference in their manner of operating, I consider as separate and distinct faculties; and which I find it expedient to distinguish by different names, that I may be able to speak of them so as to be understood. Thus I am conscious that at one time I exert memory, at another time imagination: sometimes I believe, sometimes I doubt: the performance of certain actions and the indulgence of certain affections, is attended with an agreeable feeling of a peculiar kind which I call moral approbation; different actions and affections excite the opposite feeling, of moral disapprobation : to relieve distress, I feel to be meritorious and praiseworthy to pick a pocket, I know to be blameable, and worthy of punishment: I am conscious that some actions are in my power, and that others are not; that when I neglect to do what I ought to do, and can do, I deserve to be punished; and that when I act necessarily, or, upon unavoidable and irresistible compulsion, I deserve neither punishment nor blame. Of all these sentiments I am as conscious, and as certain, as of my own existence. I cannot prove that I feel them, neither to myself, nor to others; but that I do really feel them, is as evident to me as demonstration could make it. I cannot prove, in regard to my moral feelings, that they are conformable to any 'extrinsic and eternal relations of things; but I know that my constitution necessarily determines me to believe thei just and genuine, even as it determines me to believe that I myself exist, and that things are as my external senses represent them. And a sophister could no more prove to my conviction, that these feelings are fallacious, or that I have no such feelings, than he could prove to my conviction, that two and two may

be equal to five, or that my friend is as much present with me when I think of him at a thousand miles distance, as when I sit and converse with him in the same chamber. An expert logician might perhaps puzzle me with words, and propose difficulties I could not solve; but he might as well attempt to convince me, that I do not exist, as that I do not feel what I am conscious I do feel. And if he could induce me to suspect that I may possibly be mistaken, what standard of truth could he propose to me, more evident, and of higher authority, than my own feelings? Shall I believe his testimony,, and disbelieve my own sensations? Shall I admit his reasons, because I cannot confute them, altho' common sense tells me they are false? Shall I suffer the ambiguities of artificial language to prevail against the clear, the intelligible the irresistible voice of nature?-Am I to judge of the colouring of a flower by moonshine, or by the light of the sun? Or, because I cannot, by candlelight, distinguish green from blue, shall I therefore infer, that green and blue are the same?

We cannot disbelieve the evidence of internal sense, without offering violence to our nature. And if we be led into such disbelief, or distrust, by the sophistry of pretended philosophers, we act just as wisely as a mariner would do, who should suffer himself to be persuaded, that the pole-star is continually changing its place, but that the wind always blows from the same quarter. Common sense, or instinct, which prompts men to trust to their own feelings, hath in all ages continued the same: but the interests, pur-, suits, and abilities of philosophers are susceptible of endless variety; and their theories vary accordingly. Let it not be thought, that these objects and facul

ties of internal sensation are things too evanescent to be attended to, or that the evidence is too weak to produce a steady and well-grounded conviction. They are more necessary to our happiness than even the powers and objects of external sense; yea, they are no less necessary to our existence. What can be of greater consequence to man, than his moral sentiments, his reason, his memory, his imagination? What more interesting, than to know, whether his notions of duty and of truth be the dictates of his nature, that is, the voice of God, or the positive institutions of men? What is it to which a wise man will pay more attention, than to his reason and conscience, those divine monitors, by which he is to judge even of religion itself, and which he is not at liberty to disobey, though an angel from heaven should command him? The generality of mankind, however ignorant of the received distinctions and explications of their internal powers, do yet by their conduct declare, that they feel their influence, and acknowledge their authenticity. Every instance of their being governed by a principle of moral obligation, is a proof of this. They believe an action to be lawful in the sight of God, when they are conscious of a sentiment of lawfulness attending the performance of it: they believe a certain mode of conduct to be incumbent on them in certain circumstances, because a notion of duty arises in their mind, when they contemplate that conduct in relation to those circumstances." I ought to be grateful for a favour received. Why? Because my "conscience tells me so. How do you know that you ought to do that, of which your conscience en"joins the performance? I can give no further rea"son for it; but 1 feel that such is my duty." Here

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