Your lordship"s most obedient and most humble servant,
GEORGE BERKELEY.
The Preface(784)
Though it seems the general opinion of the world, no less than the design of nature and providence, that the end of speculation be Practice, or the improvement and regulation of our lives and actions; yet those who are most addicted to speculative studies, seem as generally of another mind.
And indeed if we consider the pains that have been taken to perplex the plainest things, that distrust of the senses, those doubts and scruples, those abstractions and refinements that occur in the very entrance of the sciences; it will not seem strange that men of leisure and curiosity should lay themselves out in fruitless disquisitions, without descending to the practical parts of life, or informing themselves in the more necessary and important parts of knowledge.
Upon the common principles of philosophers, we are not a.s.sured of the existence of things from their being perceived. And we are taught to distinguish their _real_ nature from that which falls under our senses.
Hence arise scepticism and paradoxes. It is not enough that we see and feel, that we taste and smell a thing: its true nature, its absolute external ent.i.ty, is still concealed. For, though it be the fiction of our own brain, we have made it inaccessible to all our faculties. Sense is fallacious, reason defective. We spend our lives in doubting of those things which other men evidently know, and believing those things which they laugh at and despise.
In order, therefore, to divert the busy mind of man from vain researches, it seemed necessary to inquire into the source of its perplexities; and, if possible, to lay down such Principles as, by an easy solution of them, together with their own native evidence, may at once recommend themselves for genuine to the mind, and rescue it from those endless pursuits it is engaged in. Which, with a plain demonstration of the Immediate Providence of an all-seeing G.o.d, and the natural Immortality of the soul, should seem the readiest preparation, as well as the strongest motive, to the study and practice of virtue.
This design I proposed in the First Part of a treatise concerning the _Principles of Human Knowledge_, published in the year 1710. But, before I proceed to publish the Second Part(785), I thought it requisite to treat more clearly and fully of certain Principles laid down in the First, and to place them in a new light. Which is the business of the following _Dialogues_.
In this Treatise, which does not presuppose in the reader any knowledge of what was contained in the former, it has been my aim to introduce the notions I advance into the mind in the most easy and familiar manner; especially because they carry with them a great opposition to the prejudices of philosophers, which have so far prevailed against the common sense and natural notions of mankind.
If the Principles which I here endeavour to propagate are admitted for true, the consequences which, I think, evidently flow from thence are, that Atheism and Scepticism will be utterly destroyed, many intricate points made plain, great difficulties solved, several useless parts of science retrenched, speculation referred to practice, and men reduced from paradoxes to common sense.
And although it may, perhaps, seem an uneasy reflexion to some, that when they have taken a circuit through so many refined and unvulgar notions, they should at last come to think like other men; yet, methinks, this return to the simple dictates of nature, after having wandered through the wild mazes of philosophy, is not unpleasant. It is like coming home from a long voyage: a man reflects with pleasure on the many difficulties and perplexities he has pa.s.sed through, sets his heart at ease, and enjoys himself with more satisfaction for the future.
As it was my intention to convince Sceptics and Infidels by reason, so it has been my endeavour strictly to observe the most rigid laws of reasoning. And, to an impartial reader, I hope it will be manifest that the sublime notion of a G.o.d, and the comfortable expectation of Immortality, do naturally arise from a close and methodical application of thought: whatever may be the result of that loose, rambling way, not altogether improperly termed Free-thinking by certain libertines in thought, who can no more endure the restraints of logic than those of religion or government.
It will perhaps be objected to my design that, so far as it tends to ease the mind of difficult and useless inquiries, it can affect only a few speculative persons. But if, by their speculations rightly placed, the study of morality and the law of nature were brought more into fashion among men of parts and genius, the discouragements that draw to Scepticism removed, the measures of right and wrong accurately defined, and the principles of Natural Religion reduced into regular systems, as artfully disposed and clearly connected as those of some other sciences; there are grounds to think these effects would not only have a gradual influence in repairing the too much defaced sense of virtue in the world, but also, by shewing that such parts of revelation as lie within the reach of human inquiry are most agreeable to right reason, would dispose all prudent, unprejudiced persons to a modest and wary treatment of those sacred mysteries which are above the comprehension of our faculties.
It remains that I desire the reader to withhold his censure of these _Dialogues_ till he has read them through. Otherwise, he may lay them aside in a mistake of their design, or on account of difficulties or objections which he would find answered in the sequel. A Treatise of this nature would require to be once read over coherently, in order to comprehend its design, the proofs, solution of difficulties, and the connexion and disposition of its parts. If it be thought to deserve a second reading, this, I imagine, will make the entire scheme very plain.
Especially if recourse be had to an Essay I wrote some years since upon _Vision_, and the Treatise concerning the _Principles of Human Knowledge_; wherein divers notions advanced in these _Dialogues_ are farther pursued, or placed in different lights, and other points handled which naturally tend to confirm and ill.u.s.trate them.
The First Dialogue
_Philonous._ Good morrow, Hylas: I did not expect to find you abroad so early.
_Hylas._ It is indeed something unusual; but my thoughts were so taken up with a subject I was discoursing of last night, that finding I could not sleep, I resolved to rise and take a turn in the garden.
_Phil._ It happened well, to let you see what innocent and agreeable pleasures you lose every morning. Can there be a pleasanter time of the day, or a more delightful season of the year? That purple sky, those wild but sweet notes of birds, the fragrant bloom upon the trees and flowers, the gentle influence of the rising sun, these and a thousand nameless beauties of nature inspire the soul with secret transports; its faculties too being at this time fresh and lively, are fit for those meditations, which the solitude of a garden and tranquillity of the morning naturally dispose us to. But I am afraid I interrupt your thoughts: for you seemed very intent on something.
_Hyl._ It is true, I was, and shall be obliged to you if you will permit me to go on in the same vein; not that I would by any means deprive myself of your company, for my thoughts always flow more easily in conversation with a friend, than when I am alone: but my request is, that you would suffer me to impart my reflexions to you.
_Phil._ With all my heart, it is what I should have requested myself if you had not prevented me.
_Hyl._ I was considering the odd fate of those men who have in all ages, through an affectation of being distinguished from the vulgar, or some unaccountable turn of thought, pretended either to believe nothing at all, or to believe the most extravagant things in the world. This however might be borne, if their paradoxes and scepticism did not draw after them some consequences of general disadvantage to mankind. But the mischief lieth here; that when men of less leisure see them who are supposed to have spent their whole time in the pursuits of knowledge professing an entire ignorance of all things, or advancing such notions as are repugnant to plain and commonly received principles, they will be tempted to entertain suspicions concerning the most important truths, which they had hitherto held sacred and unquestionable(786).
_Phil._ I entirely agree with you, as to the ill tendency of the affected doubts of some philosophers, and fantastical conceits of others. I am even so far gone of late in this way of thinking, that I have quitted several of the sublime notions I had got in their schools for vulgar opinions. And I give it you on my word; since this revolt from metaphysical notions to the plain dictates of nature and common sense(787), I find my understanding strangely enlightened, so that I can now easily comprehend a great many things which before were all mystery and riddle.
_Hyl._ I am glad to find there was nothing in the accounts I heard of you.
_Phil._ Pray, what were those?
_Hyl._ You were represented, in last night"s conversation, as one who maintained the most extravagant opinion that ever entered into the mind of man, to wit, that there is no such thing as _material substance_ in the world.
_Phil._ That there is no such thing as what _philosophers_ call _material substance_, I am seriously persuaded: but, if I were made to see anything absurd or sceptical in this, I should then have the same reason to renounce this that I imagine I have now to reject the contrary opinion.
_Hyl._ What! can anything be more fantastical, more repugnant to Common Sense, or a more manifest piece of Scepticism, than to believe there is no such thing as _matter_?
_Phil._ Softly, good Hylas. What if it should prove that you, who hold there is, are, by virtue of that opinion, a greater sceptic, and maintain more paradoxes and repugnances to Common Sense, than I who believe no such thing?
_Hyl._ You may as soon persuade me, the part is greater than the whole, as that, in order to avoid absurdity and Scepticism, I should ever be obliged to give up my opinion in this point.
_Phil._ Well then, are you content to admit that opinion for true, which upon examination shall appear most agreeable to Common Sense, and remote from Scepticism?
_Hyl._ With all my heart. Since you are for raising disputes about the plainest things in nature, I am content for once to hear what you have to say.
_Phil._ Pray, Hylas, what do you mean by a _sceptic_?
_Hyl._ I mean what all men mean-one that doubts of everything.
_Phil._ He then who entertains no doubt concerning some particular point, with regard to that point cannot be thought a sceptic.
_Hyl._ I agree with you.
_Phil._ Whether doth doubting consist in embracing the affirmative or negative side of a question?
_Hyl._ In neither; for whoever understands English cannot but know that _doubting_ signifies a suspense between both.
_Phil._ He then that denies any point, can no more be said to doubt of it, than he who affirmeth it with the same degree of a.s.surance.
_Hyl._ True.
_Phil._ And, consequently, for such his denial is no more to be esteemed a sceptic than the other.
_Hyl._ I acknowledge it.
_Phil._ How cometh it to pa.s.s then, Hylas, that you p.r.o.nounce me a _sceptic_, because I deny what you affirm, to wit, the existence of Matter? Since, for aught you can tell, I am as peremptory in my denial, as you in your affirmation.
_Hyl._ Hold, Philonous, I have been a little out in my definition; but every false step a man makes in discourse is not to be insisted on. I said indeed that a _sceptic_ was one who doubted of everything; but I should have added, or who denies the reality and truth of things.
_Phil._ What things? Do you mean the principles and theorems of sciences?
But these you know are universal intellectual notions, and consequently independent of Matter. The denial therefore of this doth not imply the denying them(788).