Fine. And fo it clearly follows, nay it admits of mathematical demonstration, that the idea of an inch is really an inch long; and that of a mile, a mile long. In a word, every idea of any particular extenfion is equal in length to the extended object. The fame reasoning holds good in regard to the other dimenfions of breadth and thickness. All ideas, therefore, of folid objects, are (according to Hume's philofophy) equal in magnitude and folidity to the objects themselves. Now mark the confequences. I am just now in an apartment containing a thoufand cubic feet, being ten feet fquare, and ten high; the door and windows arerfhut, as well as my eyes and ears. Mr. Hume will allow, that in this fituation, I may form ideas, not only of the vifible appearance, but alfo of the real tangible magnitude of the whole houfe, of a first-rate man of war, of St. Paul's cathedral, or even of a much larger object. But the folid magnitude of these ideas is equal to the folid magnitude of the objects from which they are copied therefore I have now present with me an idea, that is, a folid extended thing, whofe dimensions extend to a million of cubit feet at least. The question now is, where is this thing placed? for a place it certainly must have, and a pretty large one too. I should anfwer, In my mind; for I know not where elfe the ideas of my mind can be fo conveniently depofited. Now my mind is lodged in a body of no extraordinary dimenfions, and my body is contained in a room ten feet fquare and ten feet high. It feems then, that, in this room, I have it in my power at plea fure to introduce a folid object a thousand, or ten thousand, times larger than the room itself. I contemplate it a while, and then, by another volition, fend it a packing, to make way for another object of equal or fuperior magnitude. Nay, in no larger vehicle than a common poft chaise, I can tranfport from one end of the kingdom to the other, a building equal to the largest Egyptian pyramid, and a mountain as big as Etna, or the peak of Teneriffe.'

The author next applies the principles of this effay to the doctrine of the non-exiftence of matter, and likewife to that of liberty and neceflity. We fhall lay before our readers another interesting paffage on the non existence of matter.

I must therefore affirm, that the existence of matter can no more be disproved by argument, than the existence of myfelf, or than the truth of a felf evident axiom in geometry. To argue against it, is to fet reafon in oppofition to common fense; which is indireâly to fubvert the foundation of all juft reasoning, and to call in queftion the diftinction between truth and falsehood. I am told, however, that a great philofopher hath a&tually demonstrated, that matter does not exist. Demonftrated!

2

monstrated! truly this is a piece of strange, information. At this rate, any, falfehood may be proved to be true, and any truth to be falfe. For it is abfolutely impoffible, that any truth should be more evident to me than this, that matter does exift. Let us fee, however, what Berkeley has to fay in behalf of this extraordinary doctrine. It is natural for demonftration, and for all found reafoning, to produce conviction, or at least fome degree of affent, in the perfon who attends to it, and understands it. I read The Principles of Human Knowledge, together with The Dialogues between Hylas and Philonous. The arguments, I acknowledge, are fubtle, and well adapted to the purpose of puzzling and confounding. Perhaps I will not undertake to confute them. Perhaps I am bufy, or indolent, or unacquainted with the principles of this philofophy, or little verfed in your metaphyfical logic. But am I convinced, from this pretended demonstration, that matter hath no existence but as an idea in the mind? Not in the leaft; my belief now is precisely the fame as before. Is it unphilofophical, not to be convinced by arguments which I cannot confute? Perhaps it may, but I cannot help it: you may, if you please, strike me off the lift of philofophers, as a nonconformist; you may call me unpliant, unreasonable, unfafhionable, and, a man with whom it is not worth while to argue; but till the frame of my nature be unhinged, and a new fet of faculties given me, I cannot believe this ftrange doctrine, because it is perfectly incredible. But if I were permitted to propofe one clownifh queftion, I would fain afk, Where is the harm of my continuing in my old opinion, and believing, with the reft of the world, that I am pot the only .created being in the univerfe, but that there are a great many others, whofe existence is as independent on me as mine is on them? Where is the harm of my believing, that if I were to fall down yonder precipice, and break my neck, I should be no more a man of this world? My neck, Sir, may be an idea to you, but to me it is a reality, and a very important one too. Where is the harm of my believing, that if in this fevere weather, I were to neglect to throw (what you call) the idea of a coat over the ideas of my shoulders, the idea of cold would produce the idea of fuch pain and diforder as might poffibly terminate in my real death? What great offence fhall I commit against God or man, church or state, philosophy or common fense, if I continue to believe, that material food will nourish me, though the idea of it will not; that the real fun will warm and enlighten me, though the livelieft idea of him will do neither; and that, if I would obtain true peace of mind and selfapprobation, I must not only form ideas of compaffion, justice,

r

and

"and generosity, but alfo really exert thofe virtues in external performance? What harm is there in all this?O! no harm at all, Sir;-but the truth, the truth, will you that your eyes against the truth No honest man ever will: convince me that your doctrine is true, and I will instantly embrace it.

Have I not convinced thee, thou obftinate, unaccountable, inexorable ?-Anfwer my arguments, if thou canst.--Alas, Sir, you have given me arguments in abundance, but you have not given me conviction; and if your arguments produce no conviction, they are worth nothing to me. They are like counterfeit bank-bills; fome of which are fo dextrously forged, that neither your eye nor mine can detect them ; but yet a thousand of them would go for nothing at the bank; and even the paper-maker would allow me more handfonely for a parcel of old rags. You need not give yourself the trouble to tell me, that I ought to be convinced; I ought to be con'vinced only when I feel conviction; when I feel no conviction, I ought not to be convinced. It has been obferved of some doctrines and reasonings, that their extreme abfurdity prevents their admitting a rational confutation. What am I to be. lieve fuch doctrine? am I to be convinced by fuch reafoning? Now, I never heard of any docrine more scandalously abfurd, than this of the non-existence of matter. There is not a fiction in the Perfian tales that I could not as easily believe; the fillieft conceit of the moft contemptible fuperftition that ever difgraced human nature, is not more fhocking to common fenfe, is not more repugnant to every principle of human belief. And must I admit this jargon for truth, because I cannot confute the arguments of a man who is a more subtle difputant than I? Does philofophy require this of me? Then it muft fuppofe, that truth is as variable as the fancies, the characters, and the intellectual abilities of men, and that there is no fuch thing in nature as common fenfe.

But all this, I fhall perhaps be told, is but childish cavil, and unphilofophical declamation. What if, after all, this very doctrine be believed, and the fophiftry (as you call it) of Berkeley be admitted as found reafoning, and legitimate proof? What then becomes of your common fense, and your inftinctive convictions?-What then, do you ask? Then in'deed I muft acknowledge the fact to be very extraordinary and I cannot help being in fome pain about the confequences, which must be important and fatal. If a man, our of vanity, or from a defire of being in the fashion, or in order to pass for wonderfully wife, fhall fay, that Berkeley's doctrine is true, while at the fame time his belief is precifely the fame with mine, it is well; I leave him to enjoy the fruits of his hypo

crity,

crify, which will no doubt contribute mightily to his improvement in candour, happiness, and wisdom. If a man profeffing this doctrine act like other men in the common affairs of life, I will not believe his profeffion to be fincere. For this doctrine, by removing body out of the univerfe, makes a total change in the circumftances of men; and therefore, if it is not merely verbal, must produce a total change in their conduct. When a man is only turned out of his houfe, or ftripped of his cloaths, or robbed of his money, he must change his behaviour, and act differently from other men, who enjoy those advantages. Perfuade a man that he is a beggar and a vagabond, and you fhall inftantly fee him change his manners. If your arguments against the existence of matter hae ever carried conviction along with them, they must at the fame time have produced a much more extraordinary change of conduct; if they have produced no change of conduct, I infift on it, they have never carried conviction along with them, whatever vehemence of proteftation men may have used in avowing fuch conviction. If you fay, that though a man's understanding be convinced, there are certain infincts in his nature which will not permit him to alter his conduct; or, if he did, the rest of the world would account him a madman by the first apology, you acknowledge the belief of the nonexiftence of body to be inconfiftent with the laws of nature; by the fecond, to be inconfiftent with common fenfe,'

The principles of the Effay are afterwards fhewn to be cons fiftent with the interefts of science, and the rights of mankind: the imperfections of the school-logic are delineated ; an eftimate is made of metaphyfic and metaphyfical writers; and the author traces the causes of the prefent degeneracy of moral fcience, and the confequences of metaphyfical fcepticism.

To the edition of this Effay which we have used, Dr. Beattie has added a Poftfcript, wherein he vindicates himself from fome reflections which had been thrown out against him, con. cerning the warmth with which he has impugned the doctrines in fome parts of his work..

We must acknowledge that we have perufed the argumentative parts of this Ellay with much fatisfaction. The fimplicity of the doctrines it maintains, and their conformity with the general fentiments and interefts of mankind, might juftly be confidered as circumftances in favour of their validity, though that were not fupported by the moft inviolable princiciples of the human conftitution. If philofophical investigation would ever be rendered advantageous, it must certainly be founded upon the evidence established by this author; of whofe enquiry it is not an inconfiderable confequence, that he

has

has fixed the criterion of fpeculative truth, and ascertained the limits beyond which the understanding can form no just or certain conclufions. The author has alfo ingenioufly investigated the labyrinth of metaphyfical fophiftry and illufion, and appears to have irreparably fapped the foundations of the fceptical fyftem of philosophy.

V. Effays Moral, Philofophical, and Political. 8vo. 5s. Hooper. T HIS volume confifts of five Effays on the following fubjects; of Philosophy and Philosophers; of Projects; of Love and Jealoufy; of Commerce and Luxury; of Agriculture. In the first Essay, the author fets out with remarking, that in modern times the appellation of philofopher is unjustly become a term of reproach, and is generally used to signify a wild uncouth being, who is immerfed in trifling fpeculations, and researches, useless, or even pernicious to fociety. To rece tify this erroneous conception of fo refpectable a character, the author traces the different stages of philofophy, from its origin down to the prefent time; fhewing its connection with the manners, government, and religion of nations; and the falutary influence it has always had upon the happiness of mankind. He proves from innumerable inftances in ancient hiftory, that thofe men who poffeffed the clearest ideas of morality and politics, generally rofe to the highest stations in their respective countries. That it is not the real genius of philofophy to lead its votaries into idle investigations; but that, on the contrary, it holds forth to their attention the most important subjects of enquiry, and, while it improves the underftanding, qualifies men alfo for the most confpicuous and active fcenes of life. The republics of Greece and Rome fupply our author with many illuftrious examples of heroes and legiflators, who profecuted the researches of philofophy, and derived principally from that fource the glory which will ever render them the objects of admiration. But as he defcends to later periods, a melancholy reverfe in the fortune of philophers is prefented to his view. He now beholds none of the fons of fcience promoted to high employments in their country; no fovereigns emulating the fame of a Marcus Aurelius, or a Julian; and no commanders of armies ambitious of gathering laurels with Cæfar, in the fields both of literature and war. This exclufion of philofophy from the higher ranks of life, leads the author into many fevere remarks on the modern fyftem of policy, which he charges with weakness, occafioned by the inadequate education which fashion has introduced

among