ESSAY I. ON SUICIDE
ONE considerable advantage that arises from Philosophy, consists in the sovereign
antidote which it affords to superstition and false religion. All other remedies
against that pestilent distemper are vain, or at least uncertain. Plain good
sense and the practice of the world, which alone serve most purposes of life,
are here found ineffectual: History as well as daily experience furnish instances
of men endowed with the strongest capacity for business and affairs, who have
all their lives crouched under slavery to the grossest superstition. Even gaiety
and sweetness of temper, which infuse a balm into every other wound, afford
no remedy to so virulent a poison; as we may particularly observe of the fair
sex, who tho' commonly possest of their rich presents of nature, feel many of
their joys blasted by this importunate intruder. But when found Philosophy has
once gained possession of the mind, superstition is effectually excluded, and
one may fairly affirm that her triumph over this enemy is more complete than
over most of the vices and imperfections incident to human nature. Love or anger,
ambition or avarice, have their root in the temper and affection, which the
soundest reason is scarce ever able fully to correct, but superstition being
founded on false opinion, must immediately vanish when true philosophy has inspired
juster sentiments of superior powers. The contest is here more equal between
the distemper and the medicine, and nothing can hinder the latter from proving
effectual but its being false and sophisticated.
IT will here be superfluous to magnify the merits of Philosophy by displaying
the pernicious tendency of that vice of which it cures the human mind. The superstitious
man says Tully is miserable in every scene, in every incident in life; even
sleep itself, which banishes all other cares of unhappy mortals, affords to
him matter of new terror; while he examines his dreams, and finds in those visions
of the night prognostications of future calamities. I may add that tho' death
alone can put a full period to his misery, he dares not fly to this refuge,
but still prolongs a miserable existence from a vain fear left he offend his
Maker, by using the power, with which that beneficent being has endowed him.
The presents of God and nature are ravished from us by this {4} cruel enemy,
and notwithstanding that one step would remove us from the regions of pain and
sorrow, her menaces still chain us down to a hated being which she herself chiefly
contributes to render miserable.
'TIS observed by such as have been reduced by the calamities of life to the
necessity of employing this fatal remedy, that if the unseasonable care of their
friends deprive them of that species of Death which they proposed to themselves,
they seldom venture upon any other, or can summon up so much resolution a second
time as to execute their purpose. So great is our horror of death, that when
it presents itself under any form, besides that to which a man has endeavored
to reconcile his imagination, it acquires new terrors and overcomes his feeble
courage: But when the menaces of superstition are joined to this natural timidity,
no wonder it quite deprives men of all power over their lives, since even many
pleasures and enjoyments, {5} to which we are carried by a strong propensity,
are torn from us by this inhuman tyrant. Let us here endeavor to restore men
to their native liberty, by examining all the common arguments against Suicide,
and shewing that that action may be free from every imputation of guilt or blame,
according to the sentiments of all the antient philosophers.
IF Suicide be criminal, it must be a transgression of our duty either to God,
our neighbor, or ourselves. -- To prove that suicide is no transgression of
our duty to God, the following considerations may perhaps suffice. In order
to govern the material world, the almighty Creator has established general and
immutable laws, by which all bodies, from the greatest planet to the smallest
particle of matter, are maintained in their proper sphere and function. To govern
the animal world, he has endowed all living creatures with bodily and mental
powers; with senses, passions, appetites, memory, and judgment, by which they
are impelled or regulated in that course of life to which they are destined.
These two distinct principles of the material and animal world, continually
encroach upon each other, and mutually retard or forward each others operation.
The powers of men and of all other animals are restrained and directed by the
nature and qualities of the surrounding bodies, and the modifications and actions
of these bodies are incessantly altered by the operation of all animals. Man
is stopped by rivers in his passage over the surface of the earth; and rivers,
when properly directed, lend their force to the motion of machines, which serve
to the use of man. But tho' the provinces of the material and animal powers
are not kept entirely separate, there results from thence no discord or disorder
in the creation; on the contrary, from the mixture, union, and contrast of all
the various powers of inanimate bodies and living creatures, arises that sympathy,
harmony, and proportion, which affords the surest argument of supreme wisdom.
The providence of the Deity appears not immediately in any operation, but governs
every thing by those general and immutable laws, which have been established
from the beginning of time. All events, in one sense, may be pronounced the
action of the Almighty, they all proceed from those powers with which he has
endowed his creatures. A house which falls by its own weight, is not brought
to ruin by his providence, more than one destroyed by the hands of men; nor
are the human faculties less his workmanship, than the laws of motion and gravitation.
When the passions play, when the judgment dictates, when the limbs obey; this
is all the operation of God, and upon these animate principles, as well as upon
the inanimate, has he established the government of the universe. Every event
is alike important in the eyes of that infinite being, who takes in at one glance
the most distant regions of space, and remotest periods of time. There is no
event, however important to us, which he has exempted from the general laws
that govern the universe, or which he has peculiarly reserved for his own immediate
action and operation. The revolution of states and empires depends upon the
smallest caprice or passion of single men; and the lives of men are shortened
or extended by the smallest accident of air or dies, sunshine or tempest. Nature
still continues her progress and operation; and if general laws be ever broke
by particular volitions of the Deity, 'tis after a manner which entirely escapes
human observation. As on the one hand, the elements and other inanimate parts
of the creation carry on their action without regard to the particular interest
and situation of men; so men are entrusted to their own judgment and discretion
in the various shocks of matter, and may employ every faculty with which they
are endowed, in order to provide for their ease, happiness, or preservation.
What is the meaning then of that principle, that a man who tired of life, and
hunted by pain and misery, bravely overcomes all the natural terrors of death,
and makes his escape from this cruel scene: that such a man I say, has incurred
the indignation of his Creator by encroaching on the office of divine providence,
and disturbing the order of the universe? Shall we assert that the Almighty
has reserved to himself in any peculiar manner the disposal of the lives of
men, and has not submitted that event, in common with others, to the general
laws by which the universe is governed? This is plainly false; the lives of
men depend upon the same laws as the lives of all other animals; and these are
subjected to the general laws of matter and motion. The fall of a tower, or
the infusion of a poison, will destroy a man equally with the meanest creature;
an inundation sweeps away every thing without distinction that comes within
the reach of its fury. Since therefore the lives of men are for ever dependant
on the general laws of matter and motion, is a man's disposing of his life criminal,
because in every case it is criminal to encroach upon these laws, or disturb
their operation? But this seems absurd; all animals are entrusted to their own
prudence and skill for their conduct in the world, and have full authority as
far as their power extends, to alter all the operations of nature. Without the
excercise of this authority they could not subsist a moment; every action, every
motion of a man, innovates on the order of some parts of matter, and diverts
from their ordinary course the general laws of motion. Putting together, therefore,
these conclusion, we find that human life depends upon the general laws of matter
and motion, and that it is no encroachment on the office of providence to disturb
or alter these general laws: Has not every one, of consequence, the free disposal
of his own life? And may he not lawfully employ that power with which nature
has endowed him? In order to destroy the evidence of this conclusion, we must
shew a reason why this particular case is excepted; is it because human life
is of such great importance, that 'tis a presumption for human prudence to dispose
of it? But the life of a man is of no greater importance to the universe than
that of an oyster. And were it of ever so great importance, the order of human
nature has actually submitted it to human prudence, and reduced us to a necessity,
in every incident, of determining concerning it. -- Were the disposal of human
life so much reserved as the peculiar province of the Almighty, that it were
an encroachment on his right, for men to dispose of their own lives; it would
be equally criminal to act for the preservation of life as for its destruction.
If I turn aside a stone which is falling upon my head, I disturb the course
of nature, and I invade the peculiar province of the Almighty, by lengthening
out my life beyond the period which by the general laws of matter and motion
he had assigned it.
A hair, a fly, an insect is able to destroy this mighty being whose life is
of such importance. Is it an absurdity to suppose that human prudence may lawfully
dispose of what depends on such insignificant causes? It would be no crime in
me to divert the Nile or Danube from its course, were I able to effect such
purposes. Where then is the crime of turning a few ounces of blood from their
natural channel? -- Do you imagine that I repine at Providence or curse my creation,
because I go out of life, and put a period to a being, which, were it to continue,
would render me miserable? Far be such sentiments from me; I am only convinced
of a matter of fact, which you yourself acknowledge possible, that human life
may be unhappy, and that my existence, if further prolonged, would become ineligible;
but I thank Providence, both for the good which I have already enjoyed, and
for the power with which I am endowed of escaping the ill that threatens me.
To you it belongs to repine at providence, who foolishly imagine that you have
no such power, and who must still prolong a hated life, tho' loaded with pain
and sickness, with shame and poverty -- Do not you teach, that when any ill
befals me, tho' by the malice of my enemies, I ought to be resigned to providence,
and that the actions of men are the operations of the Almighty as much as the
actions of inanimate beings? When I fall upon my own sword, therefore, I receive
my death equally from the hands of the Deity as if it had proceeded from a lion,
a precipice, or a fever. The submission which you require to providence, in
every calamity that befals me, excludes not human skill and industry, if possible
by their means I can avoid or escape the calamity: And why may I not employ
one remedy as well as another? -- If my life be not my own, it were criminal
for me to put it in danger, as well as to dispose of it; nor could one man deserve
the appellation of hero, whom glory or friendship transports into the greatest
dangers, and another merit the reproach of wretch or misereant who puts a period
to his life, from the same or like motives. -- There is no being, which possesses
any power or faculty, that it receives not from its Creator, nor is there any
one, which by ever so irregular an action can encroach upon the plan of his
providence, or disorder the universe. Its operations are his works equally with
that chain of events which it invades, and which ever principle prevails, we
may for that very reason conclude it to be most favored by him. Be it animate,
or inanimate, rational, or irrational, 'tis all a case: its power is still derived
from the supreme Creator, and is alike comprehended in the order of his providence.
When the horror of pain prevails over the love of life; when a voluntary action
anticipates the effects of blind causes, 'tis only in consequence of those powers
and principles which he has implanted in his creatures. Divine providence is
still inviolate, and placed far beyond the reach of human injuries. 'Tis impious
says the old Roman superstition to divert rivers from their course, or invade
the prerogatives of nature. 'Tis impious says the French superstition to inoculate
for the small-pox, or usurp the business of providence by voluntarily producing
distempers and maladies. 'Tis impious says the modern European superstition,
to put a period to our own life, and thereby rebel against our Creator; and
why not impious, say I, to build houses, cultivate the ground, or fail upon
the ocean? In all these actions we employ our powers of mind and body, to produce
some innovation in the course of nature; and in none of them do we any more.
They are all of them therefore equally innocent, or equally criminal. But you
are placed by providence, like a centinal, in a particular station, and when
you desert it without being recalled, you are equally guilty of rebellion against
your almighty sovereign, and have incurred his displeasure. -- I ask, why do
you conclude that providence has placed me in this station? For my part I find
that I owe my birth to a long chain of causes, of which many depended upon voluntary
actions of men. But providence guided all these causes, and nothing happens
in the universe without its consent and co-operation. If so, then neither does
my death, however voluntary, happen without its consent; and whenever pain or
sorrow so far overcome my patience, as to make me tired of life, I may conclude
that I am recalled from my station in the clearest and most express terms. 'Tis
providence surely that has placed me at this present in this chamber: But may
I not leave it when I think proper, without being liable to the imputation of
having deserted my post or station? When I shall be dead, the principles of
which I am composed will still perform their part in the universe, and will
be equally useful in the grand fabric, as when they composed this individual
creature. The difference to the whole will be no greater than betwixt my being
in a chamber and in the open air. The one change is of more importance to me
than the other; but not more so to the universe.
'TIS a kind of blasphemy to imagine that any created being can disturb the order
of the world, or invade the business of Providence! It supposes, that that being
possesses powers and faculties, which it received not from its creator, and
which are not subordinate to his government and authority. A man may disturb
society no doubt, and thereby incur the displeasure of the Almighty: But the
government of the world is placed far beyond his reach and violence. And how
does it appear that the Almighty is displeased with those actions that disturb
society? By the principles which he has implanted in human nature, and which
inspire us with a sentiment of remorse if we ourselves have been guilty of such
actions, and with that of blame and disapprobation, if we ever observe them
in others: -- Let us now examine, according to the method proposed, whether
Suicide be of this kind of actions, and be a breach of our duty to our neighbour
and to society.
A MAN who retires from life does no harm to society: He only ceases to do good;
which, if it is an injury, is of the lowest kind. -- All our obligations to
do good to society seem to imply something reciprocal. I receive the benefits
of society, and therefore ought to promote its interests; but when I withdraw
myself altogether from society, can I be bound any longer? But allowing that
our obligations to do good were perpetual, they have certainly some bounds;
I am not obliged to do a small good to society at the expence of a great harm
to myself; why then should I prolong a miserable existence, because of some
frivolous advantage which the public may perhaps receive from me? If upon account
of age and infirmities, I may lawfully resign any office, and employ my time
altogether in fencing against these calamities, and alleviating, as much as
possible, the miseries of my future life: why may I not cut short these miseries
at once by an action which is no more prejudicial to society? -- But suppose
that it is no longer in my power to promote the interest of society, suppose
that I am a burden to it, suppose that my life hinders some person from being
much more useful to society. In such cases, my resignation of life must not
only be innocent, but laudable. And most people who lie under any temptation
to abandon existence, are in some such situation; those who have health, or
power, or authority, have commonly better reason to be in humour with the world.
A MAN is engaged in a conspiracy for the public interest; is seized upon suspicion;
is threatened with the rack; and knows from his own weakness that the secret
will be extorted from him: Could such a one consult the public interest better
than by putting a quick period to a miserable life? This was the case of the
famous and brave Strozi of Florence. -- Again, suppose a malefactor is justly
condemned to a shameful death, can any reason be imagined, why he may not anticipate
his punishment, and save himself all the anguish of thinking on its dreadful
approaches? He invades the business of providence no more than the magistrate
did, who ordered his execution; and his voluntary death is equally advantageous
to society, by ridding it of a pernicious member.
THAT Suicide may often be consistent with interest and with our duty to ourselves,
no one can question, who allows that age, sickness, or misfortune, may render
life a burthen, and make it worse even than annihilation. I believe that no
man ever threw away life, while it was worth keeping. For such is our natural
horror of death, that small motives will never be able to reconcile us to it;
and though perhaps the situation of a man's health or fortune did not seem to
require this remedy, we may at least be assured that any one who, without apparent
reason, has had recourse to it, was curst with such an incurable depravity or
gloominess of temper as must poison all enjoyment, and render him equally miserable
as if he had been loaded with the most grievous misfortunes. -- If suicide be
supposed a crime, 'tis only cowardice can impel us to it. If it be no crime,
both prudence and courage should engage us to rid ourselves at once of existence,
when it becomes a burthen. 'Tis the only way that we can then be useful to society,
by setting an example, which if imitated, would preserve to every one his chance
for happiness in life, and would effectually free him from all danger of misery.
ESSAY II. ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL
BY the mere light of reason it seems difficult to prove the Immortality of the
Soul; the arguments for it are commonly derived either from metaphysical topics,
or moral or physical. But in reality 'tis the Gospel and the Gospel alone, that
has brought life and immortality to light.
I. METAPHYSICAL topics suppose that the soul is immaterial, and that 'tis impossible
for thought to belong to a material substance. -- But just metaphysics teach
us that the notion of substance is wholly confused and imperfect, and that we
have no other idea of any substance, than as an aggregate of particular qualities,
inhering in an unknown something. Matter, therefore, and spirit, are at bottom
equally unknown, and we cannot determine what qualities inhere in the one or
in the other. They likewise teach us that nothing can be decided a priori concerning
any cause or effect, and that experience being the only source of our judgments
of this nature, we cannot know from any other principle, whether matter, by
its structure or arrangement, may not be the cause of thought. Abstract reasonings
cannot decide any question of fact or existence. -- But admitting a spiritual
substance to be dispersed throughout the universe, like the etherial fire of
the Stoics, and to be the only inherent subject of thought, we have reason to
conclude from analogy that nature uses it after the manner she does the other
substance, matter. She employs it as a kind of paste or clay; modifies it into
a variety of forms and existences; dissolves after a time each modification,
and from its substance erects a new form. As the same material substance may
successively compose the bodies of all animals, the same spiritual substance
may compose their minds: Their consciousness, or that system of thought which
they formed during life, may be continually dissolved by death. And nothing
interests them in the new modification. The most positive asserters of the mortality
of the soul, never denied the immortality of its substance. And that an immaterial
substance, as well as a material, may lose its memory or consciousness, appears
in part from experience, if the soul be immaterial. -- Reasoning from the common
course of nature, and without supposing any new interposition of the supreme
cause, which ought always to be excluded from philosophy, what is incorruptible
must also be ingenerable. The Soul therefore if immortal, existed before our
birth; and if the former existence no ways concerned us, neither will the latter.
-- Animals undoubtedly feel, think, love, hate, will, and even reason, tho'
in a more imperfect manner than men; are their souls also immaterial and immortal?
II. LET us now consider the moral arguments, chiefly those derived from the
justice of God, which is supposed to be farther interested in the farther punishment
of the vicious and reward of the virtuous. -- But these arguments are grounded
on the supposition that God has attributes beyond what he has exerted in this
universe, with which alone we are acquainted. Whence do we infer the existence
of these attributes? -- 'Tis very safe for us to affirm, that whatever we know
the Deity to have actually done, is best; but 'tis very dangerous to affirm,
that he must always do what to us seems best. In how many instances would this
reasoning fail us with regard to the present world? -- But if any purpose of
nature be clear, we may affirm, that the whole scope and intention of man's
creation, so far as we can judge by natural reason, is limited to the present
life. With how weak a concern from the original inherent structure of the mind
and passions, does he ever look farther? What comparison either for steadiness
or efficacy, betwixt so floating an idea, and the most doubtful persuasion of
any matter of fact that occurs in common life. There arise indeed in some minds
some unaccountable terrors with regard to futurity; but these would quickly
vanish were they not artificially fostered by precept and education. And those
who foster them, what is their motive? Only to gain a livelihood, and to acquire
power and riches in this world. Their very zeal and industry therefore is an
argument against them.
WHAT cruelty, what iniquity, what injustice in nature, to confine all our concern,
as well as all our knowledge, to the present life, if there be another scene
still waiting us, of infinitely greater consequence? Ought this barbarous deceit
to be ascribed to a beneficent and wise being? -- Observe with what exact proportion
the task to be performed and the performing powers are adjusted throughout all
nature. If the reason of man gives him great superiority above other animals,
his necessities are proportionably multiplied upon him; his whole time, his
whole capacity, activity, courage, and passion, find sufficient employment in
fencing against the miseries of his present condition, and frequently, nay almost
always are too slender for the business assigned them. -- A pair of shoes perhaps
was never yet wrought to the highest degree of perfection which that commodity
is capable of attaining. Yet it is necessary, at least very useful, that there
should be some politicians and moralists, even some geometers, poets, and philosophers
among mankind. The powers of men are no more superior to their wants, considered
merely in this life, than those of foxes and hares are, compared to their wants
and to their period of existence. The inference from parity of reason is therefore
obvious. --
ON the theory of the Soul's mortality, the inferiority of women's capacity is
easily accounted for. Their domestic life requires no higher faculties, either
of mind or body. This circumstance vanishes and becomes absolutely insignificant,
on the religious theory: the one sex has an equal task to perform as the other;
their powers of reason and resolution ought also to have been equal, and both
of them infinitely greater than at present. As every effect implies a cause,
and that another, till we reach the first cause of all, which is the Deity;
every thing that happens is ordained by him, and nothing can be the object of
his punishment or vengeance. -- By what rule are punishments and rewards distributed?
What is the divine standard of merit and demerit? shall we suppose that human
sentiments have place in the Deity? How bold that hypothesis. We have no conception
of any other sentiments. -- According to human sentiments, sense, courage, good
manners, industry, prudence, genius, &c. are essential parts of personal
merits. Shall we therefore erect an elysium for poets and heroes like that of
the antient mythology? Why confine all rewards to one species of virtue? Punishment,
without any proper end or purpose, is inconsistent with our ideas of goodness
and justice, and no end can be served by it after the whole scene is closed.
Punishment, according to our conception, should bear some proportion to the
offence. Why then eternal punishment for the temporary offences of so frail
a creature as man? Can any one approve of Alexander's rage, who intended to
extirminate a whole nation because they had seized his favorite horse Bucephalus?
HEAVEN and Hell suppose two distinct species of men, the good and the bad; but
the greatest part of mankind float betwixt vice and virtue. -- Were one to go
round the world with an intention of giving a good supper to the righteous,
and a sound drubbing to the wicked, he would frequently be embarrassed in his
choice, and would find that the merits and the demerits of most men and women
scarcely amount to the value of either. -- To suppose measures of approbation
and blame different from the human confounds every thing. Whence do we learn
that there is such a thing as moral distinctions, but from our own sentiments?
-- What man who has not met with personal provocation (or what good-natured
man who has) could inflict on crimes, from the sense of blame alone, even the
common, legal, frivolous punishments? And does any thing steel the breast of
judges and juries against the sentiments of humanity but reflection on necessity
and public interest? By the Roman law those who had been guilty of parricide
and confessed their crime, were put into a sack alone with an ape, a dog, and
a serpent, and thrown into the river. Death alone was the punishment of those
whose who denied their guilt, however fully proved. A criminal was tried before
Augustus, and condemned after a full conviction, but the humane emperor, when
he put the last interrogatory, gave it such a turn as to lead the wretch into
a denial of his guilt. "You surely (said the "prince) did not kill
your father." This lenity suits our natural ideas of right even towards
the greatest of all criminals, and even though it prevents so inconsiderable
a sufference. Nay even the most bigotted priest would naturally without reflection
approve of it, provided the crime was not heresy or infidelity; for as these
crimes hurt himself in his temporal interest and advantages, perhaps he may
not be altogether so indulgent to them. The chief source of moral ideas is the
reflection on the interest of human society. Ought these interests, so short,
so frivolous, to be guarded by punishments eternal and infinite? The damnation
of one man is an infinitely greater evil in the universe, than the subversion
of a thousand millions of kingdoms. Nature has rendered human infancy peculiarly
frail and mortal, as it were on purpose to refute the notion of a probationary
state; the half of mankind die before they are rational creatures.
III. THE Physical arguments from the analogy of nature are strong for the mortality
of the soul, and are really the only philosophical arguments which ought to
be admitted with regard to this question, or indeed any question of fact. --
Where any two objects are so closely connected that all alterations which we
have ever seen in the one, are attended with proportionable alterations in the
other; we ought to conclude by all rules of analogy, that, when there are still
greater alterations produced in the former, and it is totally dissolved, there
follows a total dissolution of the latter. -- Sleep, a very small effect on
the body, is attended with a temporary extinction, at least a great confusion
in the soul. -- The weakness of the body and that of the mind in infancy are
exactly proportioned, their vigor in manhood, their sympathetic disorder in
sickness; their common gradual decay in old age. The step further seems unavoidable;
their common dissolution in death. The last symptoms which the mind discovers
are disorder, weakness, insensibility, and stupidity, the fore-runners of its
annihilation. The farther progress of the same causes increasing, the same effects
totally extinguish it. Judging by the usual analogy of nature, no form can continue
when transferred to a condition of life very different from the original one,
in which it was placed. Trees perish in the water, fishes in the air, animals
in the earth. Even so small a difference as that of climate is often fatal.
What reason then to imagine, that an immense alteration, such as is made on
the soul by the dissolution of its body and all its organs of thought and sensation,
can be effected without the dissolution of the whole? Every thing is in common
betwixt soul and body. The organs of the one are all of them the organs of the
other. The existence therefore of the one must be dependant on that of the other.
-- The souls of animals are allowed to be mortal; and these bear so near a resemblance
to the souls of men, that the analogy from one to the other forms a very strong
argument. Their bodies are not more resembling; yet no one rejects the argument
drawn from comparative anatomy. The Metempsychosis is therefore the only system
of this kind that philosophy can harken to.
NOTHING in this world is perpetual, every thing however seemingly firm is in
continual flux and change, the world itself gives symptoms of frailty and dissolution.
How contrary to analogy, therefore, to imagine that one single from, seemingly
the frailest of any, and subject to the greatest disorders, is immortal and
indissoluble? What daring theory is that! how lightly, not to say how rashly
entertained! How to dispose of the infinite number of posthumous existences
ought also to embarrass the religious theory. Every planet in every solar system
we are at liberty to imagine peopled with intelligent mortal beings, at least
we can fix on no other supposition. For these then a new universe must every
generation be created beyond the bounds of the present universe, or one must
have been created at first so prodigiously wise as to admit of this continual
influx of beings. Ought such bold suppositions to be received by any philosophy,
and that merely on there pretext of a bare possibility? When it is asked whether
Agamemnon Thersites Hannibal, Varro, and every stupid clown that ever existed
in Italy, Scythia, Bactria or Guinea, are now alive; can any man think, that
a scrutiny of nature will furnish arguments strong enough to answer so strange
a question in the affirmative? The want of argument without revelation sufficiently
establishes the negative. -- "Quanto facilius (says Pliny) "certius
que sibi quemque credere, ac specimen securitatis antigene tali sumere experimento."
Our insensibility before the composition of the body, seems to natural reason
a proof of a like state after dissolution. Were our horrors of annihilation
an original passion, not the effect of our general love of happiness, it would
rather prove the mortality of the soul. For as nature does nothing in vain,
she would never give us a horror against an impossible event. She may give us
a horror against an unavoidable; yet the human species could not be preserved
had not nature inspired us with and aversion toward it. All doctrines are to
be suspected which are favoured by our passions, and the hopes and fears which
gave rise to this doctrine are very obvious.
'TIS an infinite advantage in every controversy to defend the negative. If the
question be out of the common experienced course of nature, this circumstance
is almost if not altogether decisive. By what arguments or analogies can we
prove any state of existence, which no one ever saw, and which no way resembles
any that ever was seen? Who will repose such trust in any pretended philosophy
as to admit upon its testimony the reality of so marvellous a scene? Some new
species of logic is requisite for that purpose, and some new faculties of the
mind, that may enable us to comprehend that logic.
NOTHING could set in a fuller light the infinite obligations which mankind have
to divine revelation, since we find that no other medium could ascertain this
great and important truth.
These two essays were completed around 1755 and printed as part
of a book of essays titled Five Dissertations. When pre-release copies of Five
Dissertations provoked controversy among influential readers, Hume and his printer
Andrew Millar agreed to have the two essays removed from the printed copies.
They were replaced with an essay titled "Of the Standard of Taste,"
and the book of essays appeared in 1757 under the title Four Dissertations.