The diflintlion between fubflances, and tfi^ qualities belonging to them; between thought, and the being that thinks; between thought^ and the objects of thought j is to be found in the ftrufture of all languages: And therefore^ fyflems of philofophy, which abolifh thofe dif- tinciions, wage war with the common fenfe of mankind.
We are apt to imagine, that thofe who for- med languages were no Metaphyficians; but the firft principles of ail fciences are the dic- tates of common fenfe, and he open to all men; and every man who has confidered the llrudlure of language in a philofophical lights will find infallible proofs that thofe who have framed it, and thofe who ufe it with under- ftanding, have the power of making accurate diflinctions, and of forming general concepti- ons, as well as Philofophers. Nature has gi- yen Chofe powers to all men, and they can ufe them when their occafions require it; but they leave it to thePhilofophers to give names to themy. and to defcant upon their nature. In like man- ner. Nature has given eyes to all men, and they can make good ufe of them; but the flrudure of the eye, and the theory of vifion^ is the bufmefs of Philofophers.
Fourthly, Opinions that appear fo early ir^ the minds of men, that they cannot be the ef- fect of education, or of falie reafoning, have a good claim to be confidered as firft principles* Thus the behef we have, that the perfons about us are living and intelligent beings, is a behef for which perhaps we can give fome reafon, when we are able to reafon; but we had thi& belief before we could reafon, and before we could learn it by inftrudion. It feems there- fore Of FIRST PRINCIPLES in GENERAL. 261 fore to be an Immediate efFed: of our conftitu-C H A 1 The /aj} topic I fhall mention Is, when an ^"-"^''''^ opinion is fo necelTary in the condud of life, that without the belief of it, a man mad be led Into a thoufand abfurditles in praQice, fuch an opinion, when we can give no other reafon for it, may lafely be taken for a firft principle- Thus I have endeavoured to fliew, that al- though firil principles are not capable of direft proof, yet diiferences, that may happen with regard to them among men of candour, arc not without remedy; that Nature has not left us deftltute of means by which we may difco- ver errors of this kind; and that there arc ways of reafoning, with regard to firfl; princi- ples, by which thofe that are truly fuch may be diftinguilhed from vulgar errors or prejudi- ces.
CHAP.
26z ESSAY VL CHAP. V.
The firjl Principles of contingent Truths.
SURELY, fays Bifliop Berkeley, it is a work well deferving our pains, to " make a flrift enquiry concerning the firfl " principles of knowledge; to fift and exa- " mine them on all fides." What was faid in the laft chapter, is intended both to fliew the importance of this enquiry, and to make it more eafy.
But, in order that fuch an enquiry may be aftually made, it is neceffary that the firfl principles of knowledge be diftinguifhed from other truths, and presented to view, that they may be fifted and examined on all fides. In order to this end, I fhall attempt a detail of thofe I take to be fuch, and of the reafons why I think them entitled to that character.
If the enumeration fliould appear to fome redundant, to others deficient, and to others both; if things, which I conceive to be firfl principles, fliould to others appear to be vul- gar errors, or to be truths which derive their evidence from other truths, and therefore not firfl principles; in thefe things every man mufl judge for himfelf. I fliall rejoice to fee an enumeration more perfe6l in any or in all of thofe refpeds; being perfuaded, that the agreement of men of judgment and can- dour in firil principles, would be of no lefs confequence to the advancement of knowledge in general, than the agreement of Mathemati- ' ■ cians Ttrji Principles of Contingent Truths. 263 clans in the axioms of geometry has been toCH AP. the advancement of that fcience. V.
The truths that fall within the compafs of "">'' ■* human knowledge, whether they be felf-evi- dent, or deduced from thofe that are felf-evi- dent, may be reduced to two clafies. They are either necelfary and immutable truths, whofe contrary is impollible, or they are con- tingent and mutable, depending upon fome effe£t of will and power, which had a begin- ning, and may have an end.
That a cone is the third part of a cylinder of the fame bafe and the fame altitude, is a ne- ceffary truth. It depends not upon the will and power of any being. It is immutably true, and the contrary impoflible. That the fun is * the centre, about which the earth, and the other planets of our fyftem, perform their re- volutions, is a truth; but it is not a neceifary truth. It depends upon the power and will of that Being who made the fun and all the pla- nets, and who gave them thofe motions that feemed beft to him.
If all truths were neceflary tr-uths, there would be no occafion for different tenfes in the verbs by which they are expreffed. What is true in the prefent time, would be true in the paft and future; and there would be no change or variation of any thing in nature.
We ufe the prefent tenfe in expreffmg necef- fary truths; but it is only becaufe there is no ^exion of the verb which includes all times. When I fay that three is the half of fix, I ufe the prefent tenfe only; but I mean to exprefs not only what now is, but what always was, and always will be; and fo every propofition is to be underftood by which we mean to exr prefs prefs CHAP, prefs a neceflary truth. Contingent truths are • of another nature. As they are mutable, they may be true at one time, and not at another; and therefore the expreffion of them muil in- clude fomc point or period of time.
If language had been a contrivance of Phi- lofophers, they ^vould probably have given fome flexion to the indicative mood of verbs, which extended to all times part, prefent, and future; for fuch a flexion only would be fit to exprefs neceflary proportions, which have na relation to time. But there is no language, as far as I know, in which fuch a flexion of verbs is to be found. Becaufe the thoughts and dif- courfe of men are feldcm employed about ne-. cefl^ary truths, but commonly about fuch as are contingent; languages are fitted to exprefs the laft rather than the firft.
The difliinftion commonly made between abft:ra6l truths, and thofe that exprefs matters of faft, or real exifliences, coincides in a great meafure, but not altogether, with that between neceffary and contingent truths. Thenecef- fary truths that fall within our knowledge are for the mofl: part abfl:rafl: truths. We mufl^ ex- cept the exiftence and nature of the Supreme Being, which is neceflary. Other exigences are the eff"eds of will and power. They had a beginning, and are mutable. Their nature is fuch as the Supreme Being was pleafed to give them. Their attributes and relations mud depend upon the nature God has given them; the powers with which he has endowed them; and the fituation in which he hath pla- ced them.
The conclufions deduced by reafoning from firfl: principles, will commonly be neceflary or.
contingents^ Tirfl Pnndples of Contingent Truths* 265 contingent, according as the principles areCHAP. from which they are drawn. On the one ^_,_^I...^ hand, 1 take it to be certain, that whatever ^an, by juft reafoning, be inferred from a principle that is necelTary, mnfl: be a nece0ary truth, and that no contingent truth can be in-, ferred from principles that are neceffary.
Thus, as the axioms in mathematics are all ' neceflary truths: fo are all the conclufions drawn from them; that is, the whole body of that fcience. But from no mathematical truth ^ can we deduce the exiflence of any thing 5 not even of the objects of the fcience.
On the other hand, I apprehend there are very few cafes in which we can, from princi* pies that are contingent, deduce truths that lire neceffary. I can only recoiled one inftance of this kind, namely, that, from the exiflence of things contingent and mutable, we can in* fer the exiftence of an immutable and eternal caufe of them.
As the minds of men are occupied much more about truths that are contingent than about thofe that are neceffary, I fliall firft en- deavour to point out the principles of the for- mer kind.
I. Fi7-yi, then, I hold, as a firff principle, the exiftence of every thing of which I am con- fcious.
Confcioufnefs is an operation of the under* (landing of its own kind, and cannot be logi- cally defined. The objefts of it are our prefent pains, our pleafures, our hopes, our fears, our defires, our doubts, our thoughts of every ^ kind; in a word, all the paffions, ^nd all the aftions and operations of our own minds, \vhile they are prefent. We may remember them them CHAP, them when they are paft; but we are confci- "• ous of them only while they are prefent.
When a man is confcious of pain, he Is cer- tain of its exiftence; when he is confcious that he doubts, or believes, he is certain of the ex- iftence of thofe operations.
But the irrefiftible convidlion he has of the reality of thofe operations is not the efFe£t of reafoning; it is immediate and intuitive. The exiftence therefore of thofe paftions and operations of our minds, of which we are confcious, is a firft principle, which Nature requires us to believe upon her authority.
If I am afked to prove that I cannot be de- ceived by confcioufnefs; to prove that it is not a fallacious fenfe; I can find no proof. I can- not find any antecedent truth from which it is deduced, or upon which its evidence depends. It feems to difdain any fuch derived authority, and to claim my affent in its own right.
If any man could be found fo frantic as to deny that he thinks, while he is confcious of it; I may wonder, I may laugh, or I may pity ^lim, but I cannot reafon the matter with him. We have no common principles from which we may reafon, and therefore can never join iftue in an argument.
This, I think, is the only principle of com- mon fenfe that has never dire6lly been called in queftion. It feems to be fo firmly rooted in the minds of men, as to retain its authority with the greateft Sceptics. Mr. Hume, after annihilating body and mind, time and fpace, aftion and caufation, and even his own mind, acknowledges the reaUty of the thoughts, fen-r i^itions and paftions of which he is confcious.
No Tirfi Principles of CoJiiingent Truths, 267 No Philofopher has attempted by any hypo- CHAP, thefis to account for this confcioufiiefs of our ^* own thoughts, and the certain knowledge of their real exiftence which accompanies it. By this they feem to acknowledge, that this at lead is an original power of the mind; a power by which we not only have ideas, but original judgments, and the knowledge of real exifv tence.
I cannot reconcile this immediate knowledge of the operations of our own minds with Mr. Locke's theory, that all knowledge confifls in perceiving the agreement and difagreement of ideas. What are ideas, from whofe compari- fon the knowledge of our own thoughts re- fults? Or what are the agreements or difagree- ments which convince a man that he is in pain when he feels it?
Neither can I reconcile it with Mr. Hume's theory, that to believe the exiftence of any thing, is nothing elfe than to have a ftrong and lively conception of it; or, at moft, that belief is only fome modification of the idea which is theobje£t of belief. For not to mention, that propofitions, not ideas, are the objeft of be- lief; in all that variety of thoughts and paffions, of which we are confcious, we believe the ex- iftence of the weak as well as of the ftrong, the faint as well as the lively. No modificati- on of the operations of our minds difpofes us to the leaft doubt of their real exiftence.
As therefore the real exiftence of our thoughts, and of all the operations and feelings of our own minds, is believed by all men; as we find ourfelves incapable of doubting it, and as incapable of offering any proof of it, it may juflly be confidercd as a firft principle, or dictate of common fenfe.
But CHAP, But although this principle refts upon no ^' other, a very confiderable and important ^^""^^"^ branch of human knowledge refls upon it.
For from this fource of confcioufnefs is de- rived all that we know, and indeed all that we can know, of the ftrudur'e, and of the powers of our own minds; from which we may con- clude, that there is no branch of knowledge that {lands upon a firmer foundation; for fure- ly no kind of evidence can go beyond that of confcioufnefs.
How does it come to pafs then, that in this branch of knowledge there are fo many and fo contrary fyftems? fo many fubtile controvcrfies that are never brought to an ilTue, and fo little fixed and determined? Is it poffible that Phi- lofophers fhould differ mofl where they have the fureft means of agreement? where every thing is built upon a fpecies of evidence which fill men acquiefce in, and hold to be the moft certain?
This ftrangc phasnomenon may, I think, be accounted for, if we diftinguifh between confcioufnefs and refledion, which are often improperly confounded.
The firft is common to all men at all times, but is infufficient of itfelf to give us clear and diftind notions of the operations of which we are confcious, and of their mutual relations, and minute diflindions. The fecond, to wit, attentive refledion upon thofe operations, making them objeds of thought, furveying them attentively, and examining them on all fides, is fo far from being common to all men, that it is the lot of very few. The greateft part of men, either through want of capacity, or from other caufcs, never refled attentively upon Firjl Principles of Contingent Truthu i6g upon the operations of their own minds. The CHAP, habit of this reflection, even in thofe whom ^' Nature has fitted for it, is not to be attained without much pains and pradice.
Wc can know nothing of the immediate ob- jedls of fight, but by the teftimony of our eyes; and I apprehend, that if mankind had found as great difficulty in giving attention to the objeds of fight, as they find in attentive reflection upon the operations of their own minds, our knowledge of the firft might have been in as backward a flate as our knowledge of the lafl.
But this darknefs will not laft for ever- Light will arife upon this benighted part of the intelledual globe. When any man is fo happy as to deUneate the powers of the human mind as they really are in nature, men that are free from prejudice, and capable of refledion, will recognife their own features in the pidure; and then the wonder will be, how things fo obvious could be fo long wrapped up in myilery and darknefs; how men could be carried away by falfe theories and conjedures, when the truth was to be found in their own breafls if they had but attended to it.
2. Another firft principle, I think, is. That the thoughts of which I am confcious, are the thoughts of a being which I call my f elf my mind^ my per/on.
The thoughts and feelings of which we arc confcious are continually changing, and the thought of this moment is not the thought of the laft; but fomething which I call myfelf, remains under this change of thought. This felf has the fame relation to all the fucceffive thoughts I am confcious of, tjiey are all my thoughts; C hA P. thoughts; and every thought which is not my thought, mud be the thought of fome other peifon.
If any man afks a proof of this, I confefs I can give none; there is an evidence in the propofition itfelf which I am unable to refift. Shall I think, that thought can ftand by itfelf without a thinking being? or that ideas can feel pleafureor pain? My nature dictates to me that it is impofiible; And that Nature has dictated the fame to all men, appears from the ftru£ture of all lan- guages: For in all languages men have ex- prefled thinkhig, reafoning, willing, loving, hating, by perfonal verbs, which from their nature require a perfon who thinks, reafons, wills, loves, or hates. From which it ap- pears, that men have been taught by Nature to believe that thought requires a thinker, rea- fon a reafoner, and love a lover.
Here we muft leave Mr. Hume, who con- ceives it to be a vulgar error, that befides the thoughts we are confcious of, there is a mind which is the fubject of thofe thoughts. If the mind be any thing elfe than impreffions and ideas, it muft be a word without a meaning. The mind therefore, according to this Philofo- pher, is a word \vhich fignifies a bundle of per- ceptions, or, w^hen he defines it more accu- rately, " It is that fucccffion of related ideas *' and imprelhons, of which we have an inti- " mate memory and confcioufnefs.'* I am. therefore, that fucccffion of related ideas and impreiTions of which I have the inti- mate memory and confcioufnefs^ But who is the / that has this memory and eonfcioufnefs of a fucceffion of ideas and im- preffions?
lirjl Principles of Contingent Truths. 'i'-j\ preflions? Why, it is nothing but that fuccef-C H A P. fionitfelf. ^ ^ u.JL^ Hence f learn, that this fucceffion of ideas "^ and impreffions intimately remembers, and is confcious of itfelf. I would wifli to be farther inftrudled, whether the impreffions remember and are confcious of the ideas, or the ideas re- member and are confcious of the impreffions, or if both remember and are confcious of both? and whether the ideas remember thofe that come after them, as well as thofe that were before them? Thefe are queflions naturally arifmg from this fyllem, that have not yet been explained.
This, however, is clear, that this fucceffiort of ideas and impreffions, not only remembers and is confcious, but that it judges, reafonsj affirms, denies; nay, that it eats and drinks, and is fometimes merry, and fometimes fad.
If thefe things can be afcribed to a fucceffiort. of ideas and impreffions, in a confiftency with common fenfe, 1 ffiould be very glad to know what is nonfenfe.
The fcholaftic Philofophers have been wit- tily ridiculed, by reprefenting them as difpu- ting upon this queflion, 'Nam cbim^era bo?nbi' nans in 'uacuo pojjit comedere fecundas intcntiones f and I believe the wit of man cannot invent a more ridiculous queftion. But, if Mr. Hume*s philofophy be admitted, this queftion deferves to be treated more gravely: For if, as we learri from this philofophy, a fucceffion of ideas and impreffions may eat, and drink, and be merry, I fee no good reafon why a chimera, which if not the fame, is of kin to an idea, may not chew the cud upon that kind of food, which the fchoolmen call fecond intentions.
3. Another CHAP. -^. Another firfl: principle I take to be, That t^r^J-^^, thofe things did really happen which I diftindt* ly remember.
This has one of the fureft mark§ of a firfl principle; for no man ever pretended to prove it, and yet no man in his wits calls it hi quef* tion; the tcftimony of memory, like that of confcic. ufnefs, is immediate; it claims our af- fent upon its own authority.
Suppofe t-!.at a learned counfel, in defence of a client aaainf!: the concurring teftimony of "Witnefles of credit, fbould infill upon a new topic to invalidate the teftimony. " Admit- " ting,'* fays he, " the integrity of the wit* *' neiles, and that they diftinftly remember *' what they have given in evidence; it does *' not follow that the prifoner is guilty. It " has never been proved that the moft diftin(S *' memory may not be fallacious. Shew me *' any necelfary connedion between that aft " of the mind which we call memory, and the " paft exiftence of the event remembered- *' No man has ever offered a fhadow of argu* *' ment to prove fuch a connection; yet this " is one link of the chain of proof againft the " prifoner; and if it have no ftrength, the •* whole proof falls to the ground: Until thi^, " therefore, be made evident, until it can be " proved, that we may fafdy reft upon the " teftimony of memory for the truth of paft " events, no judge or jury can juftly mke " away the life of a citizen upon fo doubtful " a point.'* I believe we may take it for granted, that this argument from a learned counfel would have no other eiTed upon the judge or jury, than to convince them that he was difordered in Firji Prindpfes of Contingent Truths, 273 in his judgment. Counfel is allowed to plead C H A P. every thing for a client that is fit to perfuade or to move; yet I believe no counfel ever had the boldnefs to plead this topic. And for v/hat reafon? For no other reafon, furely, but be- caufe it is abfurd. Now, what is abfurd at the bar, is foin the Philofopher's chair. V/hat would be ridiculous, if delivered to a jury of honefl fenfibie citizens, is no lefs fo when de- livered gravely in a philorophical dilfertation* Mr. HuPviE has not, as far as I remember, directly called inqueflion the tedimony of me- mory; but he has laid dov»'n the premifes by which its authority is overturned, leaving it to his reader to draw the conclufion.
He labours to ftew, that the belief or aflent which always attends the memory and fenfes is nothing but the vivacity of thofe perceptions which they prefent. He ftiews very clearly, that this vivacity gives no ground to believe the exiftence of external objects. And it is obvious, that it can give as httle ground to ^ believe the pad exiftence of the objeds of me- mory.
Indeed the theory concerning ideas, fo gene- rally receivc'd by Philofophers, deflroys all the authority of memory, as well as the authority of the fenfes. Des Cartes, Maleeranche, and Locke, were aware that this theory made it neceifary for them to find out arguments to prove the exiftence of external objeds, which the vulgar believe upon the bare authority of their fenfes; but thofe Philofophers were not aware, that this theory made it equally nccef- fary for them to find arguments to prove the exiitence Vol. ir. T ESSAY. VI.
C HA P. exiflence of things paft, which we remember, ^* and to fupport the authority of memory. ^"^^^^^'^^ All the arguments they advanced to fupport the authority of our fenfes, were eafily refuted by Bifhop Berkeley and Mr. Hume, being indeed very weak and inconclufive. And it would have been as eafy to anfwer every ar- gum.ent they could have brought, confident with their theory, to fupport the authority of memory.
For, according to that theory, the immedi- ate objed: of memory, as well as of every other operation of the underftanding, is an idea pre- fent in the mind. And, from the prefent ex- iftence of this idea of memory I am left to in- fer, by reafoning, that fix months, or fix years ago, there did exift an objecl fimilar to this idea.
But what is there in the idea that can lead me to this conclufion? What mark does it bear of the date of its archetype? Or what evidence have I that it had an archetype, and that it is not the firfl of its kind?
Perhaps it will be faid, that this idea or image in the mind mud have had a caufe.
1 admit, that if there is fuch an image in the mind it muft have had a caufe, and a caufe able to produce the effect; but what can we infer from its having a caufe? Does it follow that the efFeft is a type, an image, a copy of its caufe? Then it will foUovv^, that a pidure is an image of the painter, ^nd a coach of the coach-maker.
A pad event may be knov/n by reafoning, but that is not remembering it. When I re- member a thing didindlly, I difdain equally to hear reafons for it or againd it. And fo I think does every man in his fenfes.
Firji Principles of Contingent Truths. 275 4. Another firil principle is our own per-C H A P. Ibnal identity and continued exiftence, as far • back as we remember any thing diliindly.
This we know immediately, and not by realbning. It feems, indeed, to be a part of the teflimony of memory. Every thing we remember has fuch a relation to ourfelves, as to imply neceflarily our exiftence at the time remembered. And there cannot" be a more palpable abfurdity than that a man (hould re- member what happened before he exilled. He mull therefore have exiited as far back as he remembers any thing diftin6.1y, if his memory be not fallacious. This principle, therefore, is fo connefted with the lafl men- tioned, that it may be doubtful whether both ought not to be included inone. Let every one judge of this as he fees reafon. The pro- per notion of identity, and'the fentiments of Mr. Locke on this fubjed, have been confi-- dered before under the head of memory.
5. Another hrft principle is, That thofe things do really exift which we diftinftly perceive by our fenfes, and are what we perceive them to be.
It is too evident to need, proof, that all men are by nature led to give implicit faith to the diftin<9: teftimony of their fenfes, long before they are capable of any bias ftom prejudices of education or of philofbphy.
How came we at firfl to know that there are certain beings about us whom we call father, and mother, and fifters, and brothers, and nurfe? Was it not by the teftimony of our fenfes? How did thefe perfons, convey to us any information or inflruftion? Was it not by means of our fenfes?
It is evident we can have no communication, no correfpordence or fociety with any created being, but by means of our fenfes. And un- til we rely upon their teftimony, we muft con- fider ourfelves as being alone in the univerfe, without any fellow-creature, living or inani- mate, and be left to converfe with our own thoughts.
Bifhop Berkeley furely did not duly con- fider, that it is by means of the material world that we have any correfpondence with thinking beings, or any knowledge of their exiftcnce, and that by depriving us of the material world, he deprived us at the fame time of family, friends, country, and every human creature; of every objecl of affection, efteem or concern, except ourfelves.
The good Bifliop furely never intended this. He was too warm a friend, too zealous a pa- triot, and too good a Chriftian, to be capable of fuch a thought. He was not aware of the confequences of his fyftem, and therefore they ought not to be imputed to him; but we muft im.pute them to the fyftem itfelf. It ftifies evei*}' generous and fecial principle.
When I confider myfelf as fpeaking to men who hear me, and can judge of what I fay, I feel that refpe^ which is due to fuch an au- dience. I feel an enjoyment in a reciprocal communication of fentiments with candid and ingenious friends, and my foul bleffes the Au- thor of my being, who has made me capable of this manly and rational entertainment.
But the Bifhop fhev/s me, that this is all a dream; that I fee not a human face; that all the objeds I fee, and hear, and handle, are only th« ideas of my own mind; ideas are my only Firji Principles of Contingent Truths. 277 only companions. Cold company, indeed! C H A. P. Every Ibcial affedlion freezes at the thought! "^ • But, my Lord Bifhop, are there no minds ^~^~^ left in the univerfe but my own?
Yes, indeed; it is only the material world that is annihilated j every thing eife remains as it was, This feems to promife fome comfort in m.y forlorn folitude. But do I fee thofe minds? No. Do I fee their ideas? No. Nor do they fee me or my ideas. They are then no more to me than the inhabitants of Solomon's ifles, or of the moon; and my melancholy folitude returns. Every focial tie is broken j and every focial affedion is ftifled.
This difmal fyftem, which, if it could be believed, would deprive men of every focial comfort, a very good Bifhop, by ftritl and ac- curate reafoning, deduced from the principles commonly received by Philofophers concerning ideas. The fault is not in the reafoning;, but m the prmciples from which it is drawn.
All the arguments urged by Berkeley and Hume againlf the ^xiftence of a material world are grounded upon this principle. That we do not perceive external objects themfelves, but certain images or ideas in our own minds. But this is no dictate of common lenfe, but directly contrary to the fenfe of all who have not been taught it by philofophy.
We have before examined the reafons given by Philofophers, to prove that ideas, and not external objects, are the immediate objects of perception, and the inflances given to prove the fenfes fallacious. Without repeating what has before been faid upon thofe points, we fliall only here obferve, that if externid objects be 278 E S S A Y VI.
CHAP, be perceived immediately, w« have the lame reafon to believe their exidence as Phuofo- phers have to believe the exjlience ot ideas, while they h'4d ttiem to be the immediate obje£ls of perception.
6. Another firft principle, I think, is^ That we have fome degree of power over our ani- ons, and the determinations of our will.
All power mull be derived from the fountain of power, and of every good gift. Upon his good pkafure its continuiince depends, and it is always fubjecl to his control.
Beings to whom God has given any degre-e of power, and underftanding to direct them to the proper ufc of it, mull be accountable to their Maker. But thofe who are intrufted •y^ ith no power, can have no account to make; for all good conduCl confifts in the right ufe of power; all bad conduct in the abufe of it.
To call to account a being who never was intrufted with any degree of power, is an ab- furdity no lefs than it would be to call to ac- count an inanimate being. We are fure, therefore, if we have any account to make to the Author of our being, that we muft have fome degree of power, which, as far as it is properly ufcd, entitles us to his approbation; and, when abufed, renders us obnoxious to his difpieafure.
It is not eafy to fay in what way we firft get the notion or idea of power. It is neither an object of fenfe nor of confcioufnefs. We fee event?, one fucccedliig another; but we fee not the powder by which they are produced. W^e are confcious of the operations of our minds; but power is not an operation of mind.
If Firjl Principles of Contingent Truths, 279