management. to foster a predominant inclination, and push the mind,
with more determined resolution, towards that side which already draws
too much, by the bias and propensity of the natural temper. It is
certain that, while we aspire to the magnanimous firmness of the
philosophic sage, and endeavour to confine our pleasures altogether
within our own minds, we may, at last, render our philosophy like that
of Epictetus, and other Stoics, only a more refined system of
selfishness, and reason ourselves out of all virtue as well as
social enjoyment. While we study with attention the vanity of human
life, and turn all our thoughts towards the empty and transitory
nature of riches and honours, we are, perhaps, all the while
flattering our natural indolence, which, hating the bustle of the
world, and drudgery of business, seeks a pretence of reason to give
itself a full and uncontrolled indulgence. There is, however, one
species of philosophy which seems little liable to this inconvenience,
and that because it strikes in with no disorderly passion of the human
mind, nor can mingle itself with any natural affection or
propensity; and that is the Academic or Sceptical philosophy. The
academics always talk of doubt and suspense of judgement, of danger in
hasty determinations, of confining to very narrow bounds the enquiries
of the understanding, and of renouncing all speculations which lie not
within the limits of common life and practice. Nothing, therefore, can
be more contrary than such a philosophy to the supine indolence of the
mind, its rash arrogance, its lofty pretensions, and its superstitious
credulity. Every passion is mortified by it, except the love of truth;
and that passion never is, nor can be, carried to too high a degree.
It is surprising, therefore, that this philosophy, which, in almost
every instance, must be harmless and innocent, should be the subject
of so much groundless reproach and obloquy. But, perhaps, the very
circumstance which renders it so innocent is what chiefly exposes it
to the public hatred and resentment. By flattering no irregular
passion, it gains few partizans: By opposing so many vices and
follies, it raises to itself abundance of enemies, who stigmatize it
as libertine, profane, and irreligious.

  Nor need we fear that this philosophy, while it endeavours to
limit our enquiries to common life, should ever undermine the
reasonings of common life, and carry its doubts so far as to destroy
all action, as well as speculation. Nature will always maintain her
rights, and prevail in the end over any abstract reasoning whatsoever.
Though we should conclude, for instance, as in the foregoing
section, that, in all reasonings from experience, there is a step
taken by the mind which is not supported by any argument or process of
the understanding; there is no danger that these reasonings, on
which almost all knowledge depends, will ever be affected by such a
discovery. If the mind be not engaged by argument to make this step,
it must be induced by some other principle of equal weight and
authority; and that principle will preserve its influence as long as
human nature remains the same. What that principle is may well be
worth the pains of enquiry.

  35. Suppose a person, though endowed with the strongest faculties of
reason and reflection, to be brought on a sudden into this world; he
would, indeed, immediately observe a continual succession of
objects, and one event following another; but he would not be able
to discover anything farther. He would not, at first, by any
reasoning, be able to reach the idea of cause and effect; since the
particular powers, by which all natural operations are performed,
never appear to the senses; nor is it reasonable to conclude, merely
because one event, in one instance, precedes another, that therefore
the one is the cause, the other the effect. Their conjunction may be
arbitrary and casual. There may be no reason to infer the existence of
one from the appearance of the other. And in a word, such a person,
without more experience, could never employ his conjecture or
reasoning concerning any matter of fact, or be assured of anything
beyond what was immediately present to his memory and senses.

  Suppose, again, that he has acquired more experience, and has
lived so long in the world as to have observed familiar objects or
events to be constantly conjoined together; what is the consequence of
this experience? He immediately infers the existence of one object
from the appearance of the other. Yet he has not, by all his
experience, acquired any idea or knowledge of the secret power by
which the one object produces the other; nor is it, by any process
of reasoning, he is engaged to draw this inference. But still he finds
himself determined to draw it: And though he should be convinced
that his understanding has no part in the operation, he would
nevertheless continue in the same course of thinking. There is some
other principle which determines him to form such a conclusion.

  36. This principle is Custom or Habit. For wherever the repetition
of any particular act or operation produces a propensity to renew
the same act or operation, without being impelled by any reasoning
or process of the understanding, we always say, that this propensity
is the effect of Custom. By employing that word, we pretend not to
have given the ultimate reason of such a propensity. We only point out
a principle of human nature, which is universally acknowledged, and
which is well known by its effects. Perhaps we can push our
enquiries no farther, or pretend to give the cause of this cause;
but must rest contented with it as the ultimate principle, which we
can assign, of all our conclusions from experience. It is sufficient
satisfaction, that we can go so far, without repining at the
narrowness of our faculties because they will carry us no farther. And
it is certain we here advance a very intelligible proposition at
least, if not a true one, when we assert that, after the constant
conjunction of two objects- heat and flame, for instance, weight and
solidity- we are determined by custom alone to expect the one from the
appearance of the other. This hypothesis seems even the only one which
explains the difficulty, why we draw, from a thousand instances, an
inference which we are not able to draw from one instance, that is, in