THREE DIALOGUES BETWEEN HYLAS AND PHILONOUS,
IN OPPOSITION TO SCEPTICS AND ATHEISTS
by George Berkeley (1685-1753)



 

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.

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, 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 I 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 doubts 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 assurance.

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 pass then, Hylas, that you pronounce 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.

HYL.  I grant it. But are there no other things? What think you of
distrusting the senses, of denying the real existence of sensible things,
or pretending to know nothing of them. Is not this sufficient to
denominate a man a SCEPTIC?

PHIL.  Shall we therefore examine which of us it is that denies the
reality of sensible things, or professes the greatest ignorance of them;
since, if I take you rightly, he is to be esteemed the greatest
SCEPTIC?

HYL.  That is what I desire.

PHIL.  What mean you by Sensible Things?

HYL.  Those things which are perceived by the senses. Can you imagine
that I mean anything else?

PHIL.  Pardon me, Hylas, if I am desirous clearly to apprehend your
notions, since this may much shorten our inquiry. Suffer me then to ask
you this farther question. Are those things only perceived by the senses
which are perceived immediately? Or, may those things properly be said to
be SENSIBLE which are perceived mediately, or not without the
intervention of others?

HYL.  I do not sufficiently understand you.

PHIL.  In reading a book, what I immediately perceive are the letters;
but mediately, or by means of these, are suggested to my mind the notions
of God, virtue, truth, &c. Now, that the letters are truly sensible
things, or perceived by sense, there is no doubt: but I would know
whether you take the things suggested by them to be so too.

HYL.  No, certainly: it were absurd to think GOD or VIRTUE sensible
things; though they may be signified and suggested to the mind by
sensible marks, with which they have an arbitrary connexion.

PHIL.  It seems then, that by SENSIBLE THINGS you mean those only
which can be perceived IMMEDIATELY by sense?

HYL.  Right.

PHIL.  Doth it not follow from this, that though I see one part of the
sky red, and another blue, and that my reason doth thence evidently
conclude there must be some cause of that diversity of colours, yet that
cause cannot be said to be a sensible thing, or perceived by the sense of
seeing?

HYL.  It doth.

PHIL.  In like manner, though I hear variety of sounds, yet I cannot be
said to hear the causes of those sounds?

HYL.  You cannot.

PHIL.  And when by my touch I perceive a thing to be hot and heavy, I
cannot say, with any truth or propriety, that I feel the cause of its
heat or weight?

HYL.  To prevent any more questions of this kind, I tell you once for
all, that by SENSIBLE THINGS I mean those only which are perceived by
sense; and that in truth the senses perceive nothing which they do not
perceive IMMEDIATELY: for they make no inferences. The deducing
therefore of causes or occasions from effects and appearances, which
alone are perceived by sense, entirely relates to reason.

PHIL.  This point then is agreed between us--That SENSIBLE THINGS ARE
THOSE ONLY WHICH ARE IMMEDIATELY PERCEIVED BY SENSE. You will farther
inform me, whether we immediately perceive by sight anything beside
light, and colours, and figures; or by hearing, anything but sounds; by
the palate, anything beside tastes; by the smell, beside odours; or by
the touch, more than tangible qualities.

HYL.  We do not.

PHIL.  It seems, therefore, that if you take away all sensible
qualities, there remains nothing sensible?

HYL.  I grant it.

PHIL.  Sensible things therefore are nothing else but so many
sensible qualities, or combinations of sensible qualities?

HYL.  Nothing else.

PHIL.  HEAT then is a sensible thing?

HYL.  Certainly.

PHIL.  Doth the REALITY of sensible things consist in being perceived?
or, is it something distinct from their being perceived, and that bears
no relation to the mind?

HYL.  To EXIST is one thing, and to be PERCEIVED is another.

PHIL.  I speak with regard to sensible things only. And of these I ask,
whether by their real existence you mean a subsistence exterior to the
mind, and distinct from their being perceived?

HYL.  I mean a real absolute being, distinct from, and without any
relation to, their being perceived.

PHIL.  Heat therefore, if it be allowed a real being, must exist without
the mind?

HYL.  It must.

PHIL.  Tell me, Hylas, is this real existence equally compatible to all
degrees of heat, which we perceive; or is there any reason why we should
attribute it to some, and deny it to others? And if there be, pray let me
know that reason.

HYL.  Whatever degree of heat we perceive by sense, we may be sure the
same exists in the object that occasions it.

PHIL.  What! the greatest as well as the least?

HYL.  _I_ tell you, the reason is plainly the same in respect of both.
They are both perceived by sense; nay, the greater degree of heat is more
sensibly perceived; and consequently, if there is any difference,
we are more certain of its real existence than we can be of the reality
of a lesser degree.

PHIL.  But is not the most vehement and intense degree of heat a very
great pain?

HYL.  No one can deny it.

PHIL.  And is any unperceiving thing capable of pain or pleasure?

HYL.  No, certainly.

PHIL.  Is your material substance a senseless being, or a being endowed
with sense and perception?

HYL.  It is senseless without doubt.

PHIL.  It cannot therefore be the subject of pain?

HYL.  By no means.

PHIL.  Nor consequently of the greatest heat perceived by sense, since
you acknowledge this to be no small pain?

HYL.  I grant it.

PHIL.  What shall we say then of your external object; is it a material
Substance, or no?

HYL.  It is a material substance with the sensible qualities inhering in
it.

PHIL.  How then can a great heat exist in it, since you own it cannot in
a material substance? I desire you would clear this point.

HYL.  Hold, Philonous, I fear I was out in yielding intense heat to be a
pain. It should seem rather, that pain is something distinct from heat,
and the consequence or effect of it.

PHIL.  Upon putting your hand near the fire, do you perceive one simple
uniform sensation, or two distinct sensations?

HYL.  But one simple sensation.

PHIL.  Is not the heat immediately perceived?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  And the pain?

HYL.  True.

PHIL.  Seeing therefore they are both immediately perceived at the same
time, and the fire affects you only with one simple or uncompounded idea,
it follows that this same simple idea is both the intense heat
immediately perceived, and the pain; and, consequently, that the intense
heat immediately perceived is nothing distinct from a particular sort of
pain.

HYL.  It seems so.

PHIL.  Again, try in your thoughts, Hylas, if you can conceive a
vehement sensation to be without pain or pleasure.

HYL.  I cannot.

PHIL.  Or can you frame to yourself an idea of sensible pain or pleasure
in general, abstracted from every particular idea of heat, cold, tastes,
smells? &c.

HYL.  I do not find that I can.

PHIL.  Doth it not therefore follow, that sensible pain is nothing
distinct from those sensations or ideas, in an intense degree?

HYL.  It is undeniable; and, to speak the truth, I begin to suspect a
very great heat cannot exist but in a mind perceiving it.

PHIL.  What! are you then in that sceptical state of suspense, between
affirming and denying?

HYL.  I think I may be positive in the point. A very violent and painful
heat cannot exist without the mind.

PHIL.  It hath not therefore according to you, any REAL being?

HYL.  I own it.

PHIL.  Is it therefore certain, that there is no body in nature really
hot?

HYL.  I have not denied there is any real heat in bodies. I only say,
there is no such thing as an intense real heat.

PHIL.  But, did you not say before that all degrees of heat were equally
real; or, if there was any difference, that the greater were more
undoubtedly real than the lesser?

HYL.  True: but it was because I did not then consider the ground there
is for distinguishing between them, which I now plainly see. And it is
this: because intense heat is nothing else but a particular kind of
painful sensation; and pain cannot exist but in a perceiving being; it
follows that no intense heat can really exist in an unperceiving
corporeal substance. But this is no reason why we should deny heat in an
inferior degree to exist in such a substance.

PHIL.  But how shall we be able to discern those degrees of heat which
exist only in the mind from those which exist without it?

HYL.  That is no difficult matter. You know the least pain cannot exist
unperceived; whatever, therefore, degree of heat is a pain exists only in
the mind. But, as for all other degrees of heat, nothing obliges us to
think the same of them.

PHIL.  I think you granted before that no unperceiving being was capable
of pleasure, any more than of pain.

HYL.  I did.

PHIL.  And is not warmth, or a more gentle degree of heat than what
causes uneasiness, a pleasure?

HYL.  What then?

PHIL.  Consequently, it cannot exist without the mind in an unperceiving
substance, or body.

HYL.  So it seems.

PHIL.  Since, therefore, as well those degrees of heat that are not
painful, as those that are, can exist only in a thinking substance; may
we not conclude that external bodies are absolutely incapable of any
degree of heat whatsoever?

HYL.  On second thoughts, I do not think it so evident that warmth is a
pleasure as that a great degree of heat is a pain.

PHIL.  _I_ do not pretend that warmth is as great a pleasure as heat is
a pain. But, if you grant it to be even a small pleasure, it serves to
make good my conclusion.

HYL.  I could rather call it an INDOLENCE. It seems to be nothing more
than a privation of both pain and pleasure. And that such a quality or
state as this may agree to an unthinking substance, I hope you will not
deny.

PHIL.  If you are resolved to maintain that warmth, or a gentle degree
of heat, is no pleasure, I know not how to convince you otherwise than by
appealing to your own sense. But what think you of cold?

HYL.  The same that I do of heat. An intense degree of cold is a pain;
for to feel a very great cold, is to perceive a great uneasiness: it
cannot therefore exist without the mind; but a lesser degree of cold may,
as well as a lesser degree of heat.

PHIL.  Those bodies, therefore, upon whose application to our own, we
perceive a moderate degree of heat, must be concluded to have a moderate
degree of heat or warmth in them; and those, upon whose application we
feel a like degree of cold, must be thought to have cold in them.

HYL.  They must.

PHIL.  Can any doctrine be true that necessarily leads a man into an
absurdity?

HYL.  Without doubt it cannot.

PHIL.  Is it not an absurdity to think that the same thing should be at
the same time both cold and warm?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  Suppose now one of your hands hot, and the other cold, and that
they are both at once put into the same vessel of water, in an
intermediate state; will not the water seem cold to one hand, and warm to
the other?

HYL.  It will.

PHIL.  Ought we not therefore, by your principles, to conclude it is
really both cold and warm at the same time, that is, according to your
own concession, to believe an absurdity?

HYL.  I confess it seems so.

PHIL.  Consequently, the principles themselves are false, since you have
granted that no true principle leads to an absurdity.

HYL.  But, after all, can anything be more absurd than to say, THERE IS
NO HEAT IN THE FIRE?

PHIL.  To make the point still clearer; tell me whether, in two cases
exactly alike, we ought not to make the same judgment?

HYL.  We ought.

PHIL.  When a pin pricks your finger, doth it not rend and divide the
fibres of your flesh?

HYL.  It doth.

PHIL.  And when a coal burns your finger, doth it any more?

HYL.  It doth not.

PHIL.  Since, therefore, you neither judge the sensation itself
occasioned by the pin, nor anything like it to be in the pin; you should
not, conformably to what you have now granted, judge the sensation
occasioned by the fire, or anything like it, to be in the fire.

HYL.  Well, since it must be so, I am content to yield this point, and
acknowledge that heat and cold are only sensations existing in our minds.
But there still remain qualities enough to secure the reality of external
things.

PHIL.  But what will you say, Hylas, if it shall appear that the case is
the same with regard to all other sensible qualities, and that they can
no more be supposed to exist without the mind, than heat and cold?

HYL.  Then indeed you will have done something to the purpose; but that
is what I despair of seeing proved.

PHIL.  Let us examine them in order. What think you of TASTES, do they
exist without the mind, or no?

HYL.  Can any man in his senses doubt whether sugar is sweet, or
wormwood bitter?

PHIL.  Inform me, Hylas. Is a sweet taste a particular kind of pleasure
or pleasant sensation, or is it not?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  And is not bitterness some kind of uneasiness or pain?

HYL.  I grant it.

PHIL.  If therefore sugar and wormwood are unthinking corporeal
substances existing without the mind, how can sweetness and bitterness,
that is, Pleasure and pain, agree to them?

HYL.  Hold, Philonous, I now see what it was delude time. You asked
whether heat and cold, sweetness at were not particular sorts of pleasure
and pain; to which simply, that they were. Whereas I should have thus
distinguished: those qualities, as perceived by us, are pleasures or pair
existing in the external objects. We must not therefore conclude
absolutely, that there is no heat in the fire, or sweetness in the sugar,
but only that heat or sweetness, as perceived by us, are not in the fire
or sugar. What say you to this?

PHIL.  I say it is nothing to the purpose. Our discourse proceeded
altogether concerning sensible things, which you defined to be, THE
THINGS WE IMMEDIATELY PERCEIVE BY OUR SENSES. Whatever other qualities,
therefore, you speak of as distinct from these, I know nothing of them,
neither do they at all belong to the point in dispute. You may, indeed,
pretend to have discovered certain qualities which you do not perceive,
and assert those insensible qualities exist in fire and sugar. But what
use can be made of this to your present purpose, I am at a loss to
conceive. Tell me then once more, do you acknowledge that heat and cold,
sweetness and bitterness (meaning those qualities which are perceived by
the senses), do not exist without the mind?

HYL.  I see it is to no purpose to hold out, so I give up the cause as
to those mentioned qualities. Though I profess it sounds oddly, to say
that sugar is not sweet.

PHIL.  But, for your farther satisfaction, take this along with you:
that which at other times seems sweet, shall, to a distempered palate,
appear bitter. And, nothing can be plainer than that divers persons
perceive different tastes in the same food; since that which one man
delights in, another abhors. And how could this be, if the taste was
something really inherent in the food?

HYL.  I acknowledge I know not how.

PHIL.  In the next place, ODOURS are to be considered. And, with
regard to these, I would fain know whether what hath been said of
tastes doth not exactly agree to them? Are they not so many pleasing or
displeasing sensations?

HYL.  They are.

PHIL.  Can you then conceive it possible that they should exist in an
unperceiving thing?

HYL.  I cannot.

PHIL.  Or, can you imagine that filth and ordure affect those brute
animals that feed on them out of choice, with the same smells which we
perceive in them?

HYL.  By no means.

PHIL.  May we not therefore conclude of smells, as of the other
forementioned qualities, that they cannot exist in any but a perceiving
substance or mind?

HYL.  I think so.

PHIL.  Then as to SOUNDS, what must we think of them: are they
accidents really inherent in external bodies, or not?

HYL.  That they inhere not in the sonorous bodies is plain from hence:
because a bell struck in the exhausted receiver of an air-pump sends
forth no sound. The air, therefore, must be thought the subject of sound.

PHIL.  What reason is there for that, Hylas?

HYL.  Because, when any motion is raised in the air, we perceive a sound
greater or lesser, according to the air's motion; but without some motion
in the air, we never hear any sound at all.

PHIL.  And granting that we never hear a sound but when some motion is
produced in the air, yet I do not see how you can infer from thence, that
the sound itself is in the air.

HYL.  It is this very motion in the external air that produces in the
mind the sensation of SOUND. For, striking on the drum of the ear, it
causeth a vibration, which by the auditory nerves being communicated to
the brain, the soul is thereupon affected with the sensation called
SOUND.

PHIL.  What! is sound then a sensation?

HYL.  I tell you, as perceived by us, it is a particular sensation in
the mind.

PHIL.  And can any sensation exist without the mind?

HYL.  No, certainly.

PHIL.  How then can sound, being a sensation, exist in the air, if by
the AIR you mean a senseless substance existing without the mind?

HYL.  You must distinguish, Philonous, between sound as it is
perceived by us, and as it is in itself; or (which is the same thing)
between the sound we immediately perceive, and that which exists without
us. The former, indeed, is a particular kind of sensation, but the latter
is merely a vibrative or undulatory motion the air.

PHIL.  I thought I had already obviated that distinction, by answer I
gave when you were applying it in a like case before. But, to say no more
of that, are you sure then that sound is really nothing but motion?

HYL.  I am.

PHIL.  Whatever therefore agrees to real sound, may with truth be
attributed to motion?

HYL.  It may.

PHIL.  It is then good sense to speak of MOTION as of a thing that is
LOUD, SWEET, ACUTE, or GRAVE.

HYL.  _I_ see you are resolved not to understand me. Is it not evident
those accidents or modes belong only to sensible sound, or SOUND in the
common acceptation of the word, but not to sound in the real and
philosophic sense; which, as I just now told you, is nothing but a
certain motion of the air?

PHIL.  It seems then there are two sorts of sound--the one vulgar, or
that which is heard, the other philosophical and real?

HYL.  Even so.

PHIL.  And the latter consists in motion?

HYL.  I told you so before.

PHIL.  Tell me, Hylas, to which of the senses, think you, the idea of
motion belongs? to the hearing?

HYL.  No, certainly; but to the sight and touch.

PHIL.  It should follow then, that, according to you, real sounds may
possibly be SEEN OR FELT, but never HEARD.

HYL.  Look you, Philonous, you may, if you please, make a jest of my
opinion, but that will not alter the truth of things. I own, indeed, the
inferences you draw me into sound something oddly; but common language,
you know, is framed by, and for the use of the vulgar: we must not
therefore wonder if expressions adapted to exact philosophic notions seem
uncouth and out of the way.

PHIL.  Is it come to that? I assure you, I imagine myself to have gained
no small point, since you make so light of departing from common phrases
and opinions; it being a main part of our inquiry, to examine whose
notions are widest of the common road, and most repugnant to the
general sense of the world. But, can you think it no more than a
philosophical paradox, to say that REAL SOUNDS ARE NEVER HEARD, and
that the idea of them is obtained by some other sense? And is there
nothing in this contrary to nature and the truth of things?

HYL.  To deal ingenuously, I do not like it. And, after the concessions
already made, I had as well grant that sounds too have no real being
without the mind.

PHIL.  And I hope you will make no difficulty to acknowledge the same of
COLOURS.

HYL.  Pardon me: the case of colours is very different. Can anything be
plainer than that we see them on the objects?

PHIL.  The objects you speak of are, I suppose, corporeal Substances
existing without the mind?

HYL.  They are.

PHIL.  And have true and real colours inhering in them?

HYL.  Each visible object hath that colour which we see in it.

PHIL.  How! is there anything visible but what we perceive by sight?

HYL.  There is not.

PHIL.  And, do we perceive anything by sense which we do not perceive
immediately?

HYL.  How often must I be obliged to repeat the same thing? I tell you,
we do not.

PHIL.  Have patience, good Hylas; and tell me once more, whether there
is anything immediately perceived by the senses, except sensible
qualities. I know you asserted there was not; but I would now be
informed, whether you still persist in the same opinion.

HYL.  I do.

PHIL.  Pray, is your corporeal substance either a sensible quality, or
made up of sensible qualities?

HYL.  What a question that is! who ever thought it was?

PHIL.  My reason for asking was, because in saying, EACH VISIBLE OBJECT
HATH THAT COLOUR WHICH WE SEE IN IT, you make visible objects to be
corporeal substances; which implies either that corporeal substances are
sensible qualities, or else that there is something besides sensible
qualities perceived by sight: but, as this point was formerly agreed
between us, and is still maintained by you, it is a clear consequence,
that your CORPOREAL SUBSTANCE is nothing distinct from SENSIBLE
QUALITIES.

HYL.  You may draw as many absurd consequences as you please, and
endeavour to perplex the plainest things; but you shall never persuade me
out of my senses. I clearly understand my own meaning.

PHIL.  I wish you would make me understand it too. But, since you are
unwilling to have your notion of corporeal substance examined, I shall
urge that point no farther. Only be pleased to let me know, whether the
same colours which we see exist in external bodies, or some other.

HYL.  The very same.

PHIL.  What! are then the beautiful red and purple we see on yonder
clouds really in them? Or do you imagine they have in themselves any
other form than that of a dark mist or vapour?

HYL.  I must own, Philonous, those colours are not really in the clouds
as they seem to be at this distance. They are only apparent colours.

PHIL.  APPARENT call you them? how shall we distinguish these apparent
colours from real?

HYL.  Very easily. Those are to be thought apparent which, appearing
only at a distance, vanish upon a nearer approach.

PHIL.  And those, I suppose, are to be thought real which are discovered
by the most near and exact survey.

HYL.  Right.

PHIL.  Is the nearest and exactest survey made by the help of a
microscope, or by the naked eye?

HYL.  By a microscope, doubtless.

PHIL.  But a microscope often discovers colours in an object different
from those perceived by the unassisted sight. And, in case we had
microscopes magnifying to any assigned degree, it is certain that no
object whatsoever, viewed through them, would appear in the same colour
which it exhibits to the naked eye.

HYL.  And what will you conclude from all this? You cannot argue that
there are really and naturally no colours on objects: because by
artificial managements they may be altered, or made to vanish.

PHIL.  I think it may evidently be concluded from your own concessions,
that all the colours we see with our naked eyes are only apparent as
those on the clouds, since they vanish upon a more close and accurate
inspection which is afforded us by a microscope. Then' as to what you say
by way of prevention: I ask you whether the real and natural state
of an object is better discovered by a very sharp and piercing sight, or
by one which is less sharp?

HYL.  By the former without doubt.

PHIL.  Is it not plain from DIOPTRICS that microscopes make the sight
more penetrating, and represent objects as they would appear to the eye
in case it were naturally endowed with a most exquisite sharpness?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  Consequently the microscopical representation is to be thought
that which best sets forth the real nature of the thing, or what it is in
itself. The colours, therefore, by it perceived are more genuine and real
than those perceived otherwise.

HYL.  I confess there is something in what you say.

PHIL.  Besides, it is not only possible but manifest, that there
actually are animals whose eyes are by nature framed to perceive those
things which by reason of their minuteness escape our sight. What think
you of those inconceivably small animals perceived by glasses? must we
suppose they are all stark blind? Or, in case they see, can it be
imagined their sight hath not the same use in preserving their bodies
from injuries, which appears in that of all other animals? And if it
hath, is it not evident they must see particles less than their own
bodies; which will present them with a far different view in each object
from that which strikes our senses? Even our own eyes do not always
represent objects to us after the same manner. In the jaundice every one
knows that all things seem yellow. Is it not therefore highly probable
those animals in whose eyes we discern a very different texture from that
of ours, and whose bodies abound with different humours, do not see the
same colours in every object that we do? From all which, should it not
seem to follow that all colours are equally apparent, and that none of
those which we perceive are really inherent in any outward object?

HYL.  It should.

PHIL.  The point will be past all doubt, if you consider that, in case
colours were real properties or affections inherent in external bodies,
they could admit of no alteration without some change wrought in the very
bodies themselves: but, is it not evident from what hath been said that,
upon the use of microscopes, upon a change happening in the burnouts of
the eye, or a variation of distance, without any manner of real
alteration in the thing itself, the colours of any object are
either changed, or totally disappear? Nay, all other circumstances
remaining the same, change but the situation of some objects, and they
shall present different colours to the eye. The same thing happens upon
viewing an object in various degrees of light. And what is more known
than that the same bodies appear differently coloured by candle-light
from what they do in the open day? Add to these the experiment of a prism
which, separating the heterogeneous rays of light, alters the colour of
any object, and will cause the whitest to appear of a deep blue or red to
the naked eye. And now tell me whether you are still of opinion that
every body hath its true real colour inhering in it; and, if you think it
hath, I would fain know farther from you, what certain distance and
position of the object, what peculiar texture and formation of the eye,
what degree or kind of light is necessary for ascertaining that true
colour, and distinguishing it from apparent ones.

HYL.  I own myself entirely satisfied, that they are all equally
apparent, and that there is no such thing as colour really inhering in
external bodies, but that it is altogether in the light. And what
confirms me in this opinion is, that in proportion to the light colours
are still more or less vivid; and if there be no light, then are there no
colours perceived. Besides, allowing there are colours on external
objects, yet, how is it possible for us to perceive them? For no external
body affects the mind, unless it acts first on our organs of sense. But
the only action of bodies is motion; and motion cannot be communicated
otherwise than by impulse. A distant object therefore cannot act on the
eye; nor consequently make itself or its properties perceivable to the
soul. Whence it plainly follows that it is immediately some contiguous
substance, which, operating on the eye, occasions a perception of
colours: and such is light.

PHIL.  Howl is light then a substance?

HYL. . I tell you, Philonous, external light is nothing but a thin fluid
substance, whose minute particles being agitated with a brisk motion, and
in various manners reflected from the different surfaces of outward
objects to the eyes, communicate different motions to the optic nerves;
which, being propagated to the brain, cause therein various impressions;
and these are attended with the sensations of red, blue, yellow, &c.

PHIL.  It seems then the light doth no more than shake the optic nerves.

HYL.  Nothing else.

PHIL.  And consequent to each particular motion of the nerves, the mind
is affected with a sensation, which is some particular colour.

HYL.  Right.

PHIL.  And these sensations have no existence without the mind.

HYL.  They have not.

PHIL.  How then do you affirm that colours are in the light; since by
LIGHT you understand a corporeal substance external to the mind?

HYL.  Light and colours, as immediately perceived by us, I grant cannot
exist without the mind. But in themselves they are only the motions and
configurations of certain insensible particles of matter.

PHIL.  Colours then, in the vulgar sense, or taken for the immediate
objects of sight, cannot agree to any but a perceiving substance.

HYL.  That is what I say.

PHIL.  Well then, since you give up the point as to those sensible
qualities which are alone thought colours by all mankind beside, you may
hold what you please with regard to those invisible ones of the
philosophers. It is not my business to dispute about THEM; only I would
advise you to bethink yourself, whether, considering the inquiry we are
upon, it be prudent for you to affirm--THE RED AND BLUE WHICH WE SEE ARE
NOT REAL COLOURS, BUT CERTAIN UNKNOWN MOTIONS AND FIGURES WHICH NO MAN
EVER DID OR CAN SEE ARE TRULY SO. Are not these shocking notions, and
are not they subject to as many ridiculous inferences, as those you were
obliged to renounce before in the case of sounds?

HYL.  I frankly own, Philonous, that it is in vain to longer. Colours,
sounds, tastes, in a word all those termed SECONDARY QUALITIES, have
certainly no existence without the mind. But by this acknowledgment I
must not be supposed to derogate, the reality of Matter, or external
objects; seeing it is no more than several philosophers maintain, who
nevertheless are the farthest imaginable from denying Matter. For the
clearer understanding of this, you must know sensible qualities are by
philosophers divided into PRIMARY and SECONDARY. The former are
Extension, Figure, Solidity, Gravity, Motion, and Rest; and these
they hold exist really in bodies. The latter are those above enumerated;
or, briefly, ALL SENSIBLE QUALITIES BESIDE THE PRIMARY; which they
assert are only so many sensations or ideas existing nowhere but in the
mind. But all this, I doubt not, you are apprised of. For my part, I have
been a long time sensible there was such an opinion current among
philosophers, but was never thoroughly convinced of its truth until now.

PHIL.  You are still then of opinion that EXTENSION and FIGURES are
inherent in external unthinking substances?

HYL.  I am.

PHIL.  But what if the same arguments which are brought against
Secondary Qualities will hold good against these also?

HYL.  Why then I shall be obliged to think, they too exist only in the
mind.

PHIL.  Is it your opinion the very figure and extension which you
perceive by sense exist in the outward object or material substance?
HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  Have all other animals as good grounds to think the same of the
figure and extension which they see and feel?

HYL.  Without doubt, if they have any thought at all.

PHIL.  Answer me, Hylas. Think you the senses were bestowed upon all
animals for their preservation and well-being in life? or were they given
to men alone for this end?

HYL.  I make no question but they have the same use in all other
animals.

PHIL.  If so, is it not necessary they should be enabled by them to
perceive their own limbs, and those bodies which are capable of harming
them?

HYL.  Certainly.

PHIL.  A mite therefore must be supposed to see his own foot, and things
equal or even less than it, as bodies of some considerable dimension;
though at the same time they appear to you scarce discernible, or at best
as so many visible points?

HYL.  I cannot deny it.

PHIL.  And to creatures less than the mite they will seem yet larger?

HYL.  They will.

PHIL.  Insomuch that what you can hardly discern will to another
extremely minute animal appear as some huge mountain?

HYL.  All this I grant.

PHIL.  Can one and the same thing be at the same time in itself of
different dimensions?

HYL.  That were absurd to imagine.

PHIL.  But, from what you have laid down it follows that both the
extension by you perceived, and that perceived by the mite itself, as
likewise all those perceived by lesser animals, are each of them the true
extension of the mite's foot; that is to say, by your own principles you
are led into an absurdity.

HYL.  There seems to be some difficulty in the point.

PHIL.  Again, have you not acknowledged that no real inherent property
of any object can be changed without some change in the thing itself?

HYL.  I have.

PHIL.  But, as we approach to or recede from an object, the visible
extension varies, being at one distance ten or a hundred times greater
than another. Doth it not therefore follow from hence likewise that it is
not really inherent in the object?

HYL.  I own I am at a loss what to think.

PHIL.  Your judgment will soon be determined, if you will venture to
think as freely concerning this quality as you have done concerning the
rest. Was it not admitted as a good argument, that neither heat nor cold
was in the water, because it seemed warm to one hand and cold to the
other?

HYL.  It was.

PHIL.  Is it not the very same reasoning to conclude, there is no
extension or figure in an object, because to one eye it shall seem
little, smooth, and round, when at the same time it appears to the other,
great, uneven, and regular?

HYL.  The very same. But does this latter fact ever happen?

PHIL.  You may at any time make the experiment, by looking with one eye
bare, and with the other through a microscope.

HYL.  I know not how to maintain it; and yet I am loath to give up
EXTENSION, I see so many odd consequences following upon such a
concession.

PHIL.  Odd, say you? After the concessions already made, I hope you will
stick at nothing for its oddness. But, on the other hand, should it not
seem very odd, if the general reasoning which includes all other
sensible qualities did not also include extension? If it be allowed that
no idea, nor anything like an idea, can exist in an unperceiving
substance, then surely it follows that no figure, or mode of extension,
which we can either perceive, or imagine, or have any idea of, can be
really inherent in Matter; not to mention the peculiar difficulty there
must be in conceiving a material substance, prior to and distinct from
extension to be the SUBSTRATUM of extension. Be the sensible quality
what it will--figure, or sound, or colour, it seems alike impossible it
should subsist in that which doth not perceive it.

HYL.  I give up the point for the present, reserving still a right to
retract my opinion, in case I shall hereafter discover any false step in
my progress to it.

PHIL.  That is a right you cannot be denied. Figures and extension being
despatched, we proceed next to MOTION. Can a real motion in any
external body be at the same time very swift and very slow?

HYL.  It cannot.

PHIL.  Is not the motion of a body swift in a reciprocal proportion to
the time it takes up in describing any given space? Thus a body that
describes a mile in an hour moves three times faster than it would in
case it described only a mile in three hours.

HYL.  I agree with you.

PHIL.  And is not time measured by the succession of ideas in our minds?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  And is it not possible ideas should succeed one another twice as
fast in your mind as they do in mine, or in that of some spirit of
another kind?

HYL.  I own it.

PHIL.  Consequently the same body may to another seem to perform its
motion over any space in half the time that it doth to you. And the same
reasoning will hold as to any other proportion: that is to say, according
to your principles (since the motions perceived are both really in the
object) it is possible one and the same body shall be really moved the
same way at once, both very swift and very slow. How is this consistent
either with common sense, or with what you just now granted?

HYL.  I have nothing to say to it.

PHIL.  Then as for SOLIDITY; either you do not mean any sensible
quality by that word, and so it is beside our inquiry: or if you do, it
must be either hardness or resistance. But both the one and the other are
plainly relative to our senses: it being evident that what seems hard to
one animal may appear soft to another, who hath greater force and
firmness of limbs. Nor is it less plain that the resistance I feel is not
in the body.

HYL.  I own the very SENSATION of resistance, which is all you
immediately perceive, is not in the body; but the CAUSE of that
sensation is.

PHIL.  But the causes of our sensations are not things immediately
perceived, and therefore are not sensible. This point I thought had been
already determined.

HYL.  I own it was; but you will pardon me if I seem a little
embarrassed: I know not how to quit my old notions.

PHIL.  To help you out, do but consider that if EXTENSION be once
acknowledged to have no existence without the mind, the same must
necessarily be granted of motion, solidity, and gravity; since they all
evidently suppose extension. It is therefore superfluous to inquire
particularly concerning each of them. In denying extension, you have
denied them all to have any real existence.

HYL.  I wonder, Philonous, if what you say be true, why those
philosophers who deny the Secondary Qualities any real existence should
yet attribute it to the Primary. If there is no difference between them,
how can this be accounted for?

PHIL.  It is not my business to account for every opinion of the
philosophers. But, among other reasons which may be assigned for this, it
seems probable that pleasure and pain being rather annexed to the former
than the latter may be one. Heat and cold, tastes and smells, have
something more vividly pleasing or disagreeable than the ideas of
extension, figure, and motion affect us with. And, it being too visibly
absurd to hold that pain or pleasure can be in an unperceiving substance,
men are more easily weaned from believing the external existence of the
Secondary than the Primary Qualities. You will be satisfied there is
something in this, if you recollect the difference you made between an
intense and more moderate degree of heat; allowing the one a real
existence, while you denied it to the other. But, after all, there is no
rational ground for that distinction; for, surely an indifferent
sensation is as truly a SENSATION as one more pleasing or
painful; and consequently should not any more than they be supposed to
exist in an unthinking subject.

HYL.  It is just come into my head, Philonous, that I have somewhere
heard of a distinction between absolute and sensible extension. Now,
though it be acknowledged that GREAT and SMALL, consisting merely in
the relation which other extended beings have to the parts of our own
bodies, do not really inhere in the substances themselves; yet nothing
obliges us to hold the same with regard to ABSOLUTE EXTENSION, which is
something abstracted from GREAT and SMALL, from this or that
particular magnitude or figure. So likewise as to motion; SWIFT and
SLOW are altogether relative to the succession of ideas in our own
minds. But, it doth not follow, because those modifications of motion
exist not without the mind, that therefore absolute motion abstracted
from them doth not.

PHIL.  Pray what is it that distinguishes one motion, or one part of
extension, from another? Is it not something sensible, as some degree of
swiftness or slowness, some certain magnitude or figure peculiar to each?

HYL.  I think so.

PHIL.  These qualities, therefore, stripped of all sensible properties,
are without all specific and numerical differences, as the schools call
them.

HYL.  They are.

PHIL.  That is to say, they are extension in general, and motion in
general.

HYL.  Let it be so.

PHIL.  But it is a universally received maxim that EVERYTHING WHICH
EXISTS IS PARTICULAR. How then can motion in general, or extension in
general, exist in any corporeal substance?

HYL.  I will take time to solve your difficulty.

PHIL.  But I think the point may be speedily decided. Without doubt you
can tell whether you are able to frame this or that idea. Now I am
content to put our dispute on this issue. If you can frame in your
thoughts a distinct ABSTRACT IDEA of motion or extension, divested of
all those sensible modes, as swift and slow, great and small, round and
square, and the like, which are acknowledged to exist only in the mind, I
will then yield the point you contend for. But if you cannot, it will be
unreasonable on your side to insist any longer upon what you have no
notion of.

HYL.  To confess ingenuously, I cannot.

PHIL.  Can you even separate the ideas of extension and motion from the
ideas of all those qualities which they who make the distinction term
SECONDARY?

HYL.  What! is it not an easy matter to consider extension and motion by
themselves, abstracted from all other sensible qualities? Pray how do the
mathematicians treat of them?

PHIL.  I acknowledge, Hylas, it is not difficult to form general
propositions and reasonings about those qualities, without mentioning any
other; and, in this sense, to consider or treat of them abstractedly.
But, how doth it follow that, because I can pronounce the word MOTION
by itself, I can form the idea of it in my mind exclusive of body? or,
because theorems may be made of extension and figures, without any
mention of GREAT or SMALL, or any other sensible mode or quality,
that therefore it is possible such an abstract idea of extension, without
any particular size or figure, or sensible quality, should be
distinctly formed, and apprehended by the mind? Mathematicians treat of
quantity, without regarding what other sensible. qualities it is attended
with, as being altogether indifferent to their demonstrations. But, when
laying aside the words, they contemplate the bare ideas, I believe you
will find, they are not the pure abstracted ideas of extension.

HYL.  But what say you to PURE INTELLECT? May not abstracted ideas be
framed by that faculty?

PHIL.  Since I cannot frame abstract ideas at all, it is plain I cannot
frame them by the help of PURE INTELLECT; whatsoever faculty you
understand by those words. Besides, not to inquire into the nature of
pure intellect and its spiritual objects, as VIRTUE, REASON, GOD,
or the like, thus much seems manifest--that sensible things are only to
be perceived by sense, or represented by the imagination. Figures,
therefore, and extension, being originally perceived by sense, do not
belong to pure intellect: but, for your farther satisfaction, try if you
can frame the idea of any figure, abstracted from all particularities of
size, or even from other sensible qualities.

HYL.  Let me think a little--I do not find that I can.

PHIL.  And can you think it possible that should really exist in nature
which implies a repugnancy in its conception?

HYL.  By no means.

PHIL.  Since therefore it is impossible even for the mind to disunite
the ideas of extension and motion from all other sensible qualities, doth
it not follow, that where the one exist there necessarily the other exist
likewise?

HYL.  It should seem so.

PHIL.  Consequently, the very same arguments which you admitted as
conclusive against the Secondary Qualities are, without any farther
application of force, against the Primary too. Besides, if you will trust
your senses, is it not plain all sensible qualities coexist, or to them
appear as being in the same place? Do they ever represent a motion, or
figure, as being divested of all other visible and tangible qualities?

HYL.  You need say no more on this head. I am free to own, if there be
no secret error or oversight in our proceedings hitherto, that all
sensible qualities are alike to be denied existence without the mind.
But, my fear is that I have been too liberal in my former concessions, or
overlooked some fallacy or other. In short, I did not take time to think.

PHIL.  For that matter, Hylas, you may take what time you please in
reviewing the progress of our inquiry. You are at liberty to recover any
slips you might have made, or offer whatever you have omitted which makes
for your first opinion.

HYL.  One great oversight I take to be this--that I did not sufficiently
distinguish the OBJECT from the SENSATION. Now, though this latter
may not exist without the mind, yet it will not thence follow that the
former cannot.

PHIL.  What object do you mean? the object of the senses?

HYL.  The same.

PHIL.  It is then immediately perceived?

HYL.  Right.

PHIL.  Make me to understand the difference between what is immediately
perceived and a sensation.

HYL.  The sensation I take to be an act of the mind perceiving; besides
which, there is something perceived; and this I call the OBJECT. For
example, there is red and yellow on that tulip. But then the act of
perceiving those colours is in me only, and not in the tulip.

PHIL.  What tulip do you speak of? Is it that which you see?

HYL.  The same.

PHIL.  And what do you see beside colour, figure, and extension?

HYL.  Nothing.

PHIL.  What you would say then is that the red and yellow are coexistent
with the extension; is it not?

HYL.  That is not all; I would say they have a real existence without
the mind, in some unthinking substance.

PHIL.  That the colours are really in the tulip which I see is manifest.
Neither can it be denied that this tulip may exist independent of your
mind or mine; but, that any immediate object of the senses,--that is, any
idea, or combination of ideas--should exist in an unthinking substance,
or exterior to ALL minds, is in itself an evident contradiction. Nor
can I imagine how this follows from what you said just now, to wit, that
the red and yellow were on the tulip you SAW, since you do not pretend
to SEE that unthinking substance.

HYL.  You have an artful way, Philonous, of diverting our inquiry from
the subject.

PHIL.  I see you have no mind to be pressed that way. To return then to
your distinction between SENSATION and OBJECT; if I take you right,
you distinguish in every perception two things, the one an action of the
mind, the other not.

HYL.  True.

PHIL.  And this action cannot exist in, or belong to, any unthinking
thing; but, whatever beside is implied in a perception may?

HYL.  That is my meaning.

PHIL.  So that if there was a perception without any act of the mind, it
were possible such a perception should exist in an unthinking substance?

HYL.  I grant it. But it is impossible there should be such a
perception.

PHIL.  When is the mind said to be active?

HYL.  When it produces, puts an end to, or changes, anything.

PHIL.  Can the mind produce, discontinue, or change anything, but by an
act of the will?

HYL.  It cannot.

PHIL.  The mind therefore is to be accounted ACTIVE in its perceptions
so far forth as VOLITION is included in them?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  In plucking this flower I am active; because I do it by the
motion of my hand, which was consequent upon my volition; so likewise in
applying it to my nose. But is either of these smelling?

HYL.  NO.

PHIL.  I act too in drawing the air through my nose; because my
breathing so rather than otherwise is the effect of my volition. But
neither can this be called SMELLING: for, if it were, I should smell
every time I breathed in that manner?

HYL.  True.

PHIL.  Smelling then is somewhat consequent to all this?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  But I do not find my will concerned any farther. Whatever more
there is--as that I perceive such a particular smell, or any smell at
all--this is independent of my will, and therein I am altogether passive.
Do you find it otherwise with you, Hylas?

HYL.  No, the very same.

PHIL.  Then, as to seeing, is it not in your power to open your eyes, or
keep them shut; to turn them this or that way?

HYL.  Without doubt.

PHIL.  But, doth it in like manner depend on YOUR will that in looking
on this flower you perceive WHITE rather than any other colour? Or,
directing your open eyes towards yonder part of the heaven, can you avoid
seeing the sun? Or is light or darkness the effect of your volition?

HYL.  No, certainly.

PHIL.  You are then in these respects altogether passive?  HYL.
I am.

PHIL.  Tell me now, whether SEEING consists in perceiving light and
colours, or in opening and turning the eyes?

HYL.  Without doubt, in the former.

PHIL.  Since therefore you are in the very perception of light and
colours altogether passive, what is become of that action you were
speaking of as an ingredient in every sensation? And, doth it not follow
from your own concessions, that the perception of light and colours,
including no action in it, may exist in an unperceiving substance? And is
not this a plain contradiction?

HYL.  I know not what to think of it.

PHIL.  Besides, since you distinguish the ACTIVE and PASSIVE in
every perception, you must do it in that of pain. But how is it possible
that pain, be it as little active as you please, should exist in an
unperceiving substance? In short, do but consider the point, and then
confess ingenuously, whether light and colours, tastes, sounds, &c. are
not all equally passions or sensations in the soul. You may indeed call
them EXTERNAL OBJECTS, and give them in words what subsistence you
please. But, examine your own thoughts, and then tell me whether it be
not as I say?

HYL.  I acknowledge, Philonous, that, upon a fair observation of what
passes in my mind, I can discover nothing else but that I am a thinking
being, affected with variety of sensations; neither is it possible to
conceive how a sensation should exist in an unperceiving substance. But
then, on the other hand, when I look on sensible things in a different
view, considering them as so many modes and qualities, I find it
necessary to suppose a MATERIAL SUBSTRATUM, without which they cannot
be conceived to exist.

PHIL.  MATERIAL SUBSTRATUM call you it? Pray, by which of your senses
came you acquainted with that being?

HYL.  It is not itself sensible; its modes and qualities only being
perceived by the senses.

PHIL.  I presume then it was by reflexion and reason you obtained
the idea of it?

HYL.  I do not pretend to any proper positive IDEA of it. However, I
conclude it exists, because qualities cannot be conceived to exist
without a support.

PHIL.  It seems then you have only a relative NOTION of it, or that
you conceive it not otherwise than by conceiving the relation it bears to
sensible qualities?

HYL.  Right.

PHIL.  Be pleased therefore to let me know wherein that relation
consists.

HYL.  Is it not sufficiently expressed in the term SUBSTRATUM, or
SUBSTANCE?

PHIL.  If so, the word SUBSTRATUM should import that it is spread
under the sensible qualities or accidents?

HYL.  True.

PHIL.  And consequently under extension?

HYL.  I own it.

PHIL.  It is therefore somewhat in its own nature entirely distinct
from extension?

HYL.  I tell you, extension is only a mode, and Matter is something that
supports modes. And is it not evident the thing supported is different
from the thing supporting?

PHIL.  So that something distinct from, and exclusive of, extension is
supposed to be the SUBSTRATUM of extension?

HYL.  Just so.

PHIL.  Answer me, Hylas. Can a thing be spread without extension? or is
not the idea of extension necessarily included in SPREADING?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  Whatsoever therefore you suppose spread under anything must have
in itself an extension distinct from the extension of that thing under
which it is spread?

HYL.  It must.

PHIL.  Consequently, every corporeal substance, being the SUBSTRATUM
of extension, must have in itself another extension, by which it is
qualified to be a SUBSTRATUM: and so on to infinity. And I ask whether
this be not absurd in itself, and repugnant to what you granted just now,
to wit, that the SUBSTRATUM was something distinct from and exclusive
of extension?

HYL.  Aye but, Philonous, you take me wrong. I do not mean that Matter
is SPREAD in a gross literal sense under extension. The word
SUBSTRATUM is used only to express in general the same thing with
SUBSTANCE.

PHIL.  Well then, let us examine the relation implied in the term
SUBSTANCE. Is it not that it stands under accidents?

HYL.  The very same.

PHIL.  But, that one thing may stand under or support another, must it
not be extended?

HYL.  It must.

PHIL.  Is not therefore this supposition liable to the same absurdity
with the former?

HYL.  You still take things in a strict literal sense. That is not fair,
Philonous.

PHIL.  I am not for imposing any sense on your words: you are at liberty
to explain them as you please. Only, I beseech you, make me understand
something by them. You tell me Matter supports or stands under accidents.
How! is it as your legs support your body?

HYL.  No; that is the literal sense.

PHIL.  Pray let me know any sense, literal or not literal, that you
understand it in.--How long must I wait for an answer, Hylas?

HYL.  I declare I know not what to say. I once thought I understood well
enough what was meant by Matter's supporting accidents. But now, the more
I think on it the less can I comprehend it: in short I find that I know
nothing of it.

PHIL.  It seems then you have no idea at all, neither relative nor
positive, of Matter; you know neither what it is in itself, nor what
relation it bears to accidents?

HYL.  I acknowledge it.

PHIL.  And yet you asserted that you could not conceive how qualities or
accidents should really exist, without conceiving at the same time a
material support of them?

HYL.  I did.

PHIL.  That is to say, when you conceive the real existence of
qualities, you do withal conceive Something which you cannot conceive?

HYL.  It was wrong, I own. But still I fear there is some fallacy or
other. Pray what think you of this? It is just come into my head that the
ground of all our mistake lies in your treating of each quality by
itself. Now, I grant that each quality cannot singly subsist without the
mind. Colour cannot without extension, neither can figure without some
other sensible quality. But, as the several qualities united or blended
together form entire sensible things, nothing hinders why such things may
not be supposed to exist without the mind.

PHIL.  Either, Hylas, you are jesting, or have a very bad memory. Though
indeed we went through all the qualities by name one after another, yet
my arguments or rather your concessions, nowhere tended to prove that the
Secondary Qualities did not subsist each alone by itself; but, that they
were not AT ALL without the mind. Indeed, in treating of figure
and motion we concluded they could not exist without the mind, because it
was impossible even in thought to separate them from all secondary
qualities, so as to conceive them existing by themselves. But then this
was not the only argument made use of upon that occasion. But (to pass by
all that hath been hitherto said, and reckon it for nothing, if you will
have it so) I am content to put the whole upon this issue. If you can
conceive it possible for any mixture or combination of qualities, or any
sensible object whatever, to exist without the mind, then I will grant it
actually to be so.

HYL.  If it comes to that the point will soon be decided. What more easy
than to conceive a tree or house existing by itself, independent of, and
unperceived by, any mind whatsoever? I do at this present time conceive
them existing after that manner.

PHIL.  How say you, Hylas, can you see a thing which is at the same time
unseen?

HYL.  No, that were a contradiction.

PHIL.  Is it not as great a contradiction to talk of CONCEIVING a
thing which is UNCONCEIVED?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  The, tree or house therefore which you think of is conceived by
you?

HYL.  How should it be otherwise?

PHIL.  And what is conceived is surely in the mind?

HYL.  Without question, that which is conceived is in the mind.

PHIL.  How then came you to say, you conceived a house or tree existing
independent and out of all minds whatsoever?

HYL.  That was I own an oversight; but stay, let me consider what led me
into it.--It is a pleasant mistake enough. As I was thinking of a tree in
a solitary place, where no one was present to see it, methought that was
to conceive a tree as existing unperceived or unthought of; not
considering that I myself conceived it all the while. But now I plainly
see that all I can do is to frame ideas in my own mind. I may indeed
conceive in my own thoughts the idea of a tree, or a house, or a
mountain, but that is all. And this is far from proving that I can
conceive them EXISTING OUT OF THE MINDS OF ALL SPIRITS.

PHIL.  You acknowledge then that you cannot possibly conceive how any
one corporeal sensible thing should exist otherwise than in the mind?

HYL.  I do.

PHIL.  And yet you will earnestly contend for the truth of that which
you cannot so much as conceive?

HYL.  I profess I know not what to think; but still there are some
scruples remain with me. Is it not certain I SEE THINGS at a distance?
Do we not perceive the stars and moon, for example, to be a great way
off? Is not this, I say, manifest to the senses?

PHIL.  Do you not in a dream too perceive those or the like objects?

HYL.  I do.

PHIL.  And have they not then the same appearance of being distant?

HYL.  They have.

PHIL.  But you do not thence conclude the apparitions in a dream to be
without the mind?

HYL.  By no means.

PHIL.  You ought not therefore to conclude that sensible objects are
without the mind, from their appearance, or manner wherein they are
perceived.

HYL.  I acknowledge it. But doth not my sense deceive me in those cases?

PHIL.  By no means. The idea or thing which you immediately perceive,
neither sense nor reason informs you that it actually exists without the
mind. By sense you only know that you are affected with such certain
sensations of light and colours, &c. And these you will not say are
without the mind.

HYL.  True: but, beside all that, do you not think the sight suggests
something of OUTNESS OR DISTANCE?

PHIL.  Upon approaching a distant object, do the visible size and figure
change perpetually, or do they appear the same at all distances?

HYL.  They are in a continual change.

PHIL.  Sight therefore doth not suggest, or any way inform you, that the
visible object you immediately perceive exists at a distance, or will be
perceived when you advance farther onward; there being a continued series
of visible objects succeeding each other during the whole time of your
approach.

HYL.  It doth not; but still I know, upon seeing an object, what object
I shall perceive after having passed over a certain distance: no
matter whether it be exactly the same or no: there is still something of
distance suggested in the case.

PHIL.  Good Hylas, do but reflect a little on the point, and then tell
me whether there be any more in it than this: from the ideas you actually
perceive by sight, you have by experience learned to collect what other
ideas you will (according to the standing order of nature) be affected
with, after such a certain succession of time and motion.

HYL.  Upon the whole, I take it to be nothing else.

PHIL.  Now, is it not plain that if we suppose a man born blind was on a
sudden made to see, he could at first have no experience of what may be
SUGGESTED by sight?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  He would not then, according to you, have any notion of distance
annexed to the things he saw; but would take them for a new set of
sensations, existing only in his mind?

HYL.  It is undeniable.

PHIL.  But, to make it still more plain: is not DISTANCE a line turned
endwise to the eye?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  And can a line so situated be perceived by sight?

HYL.  It cannot.

PHIL.  Doth it not therefore follow that distance is not properly and
immediately perceived by sight?

HYL.  It should seem so.

PHIL.  Again, is it your opinion that colours are at a distance?

HYL.  It must be acknowledged they are only in the mind.

PHIL.  But do not colours appear to the eye as coexisting in the same
place with extension and figures?

HYL.  They do.

PHIL.  How can you then conclude from sight that figures exist without,
when you acknowledge colours do not; the sensible appearance being the
very same with regard to both?

HYL.  I know not what to answer.

PHIL.  But, allowing that distance was truly and immediately perceived
by the mind, yet it would not thence follow it existed out of the mind.
For, whatever is immediately perceived is an idea: and can any idea exist
out of the mind?

HYL.  To suppose that were absurd: but, inform me, Philonous, can we
perceive or know nothing beside our ideas?

PHIL.  As for the rational deducing of causes from effects, that
is beside our inquiry. And, by the senses you can best tell whether you
perceive anything which is not immediately perceived. And I ask you,
whether the things immediately perceived are other than your own
sensations or ideas? You have indeed more than once, in the course of
this conversation, declared yourself on those points; but you seem, by
this last question, to have departed from what you then thought.

HYL.  To speak the truth, Philonous, I think there are two kinds of
objects:--the one perceived immediately, which are likewise called
IDEAS; the other are real things or external objects, perceived by the
mediation of ideas, which are their images and representations. Now, I
own ideas do not exist without the mind; but the latter sort of objects
do. I am sorry I did not think of this distinction sooner; it would
probably have cut short your discourse.

PHIL.  Are those external objects perceived by sense or by some other
faculty?

HYL.  They are perceived by sense.

PHIL.  Howl Is there any thing perceived by sense which is not
immediately perceived?

HYL.  Yes, Philonous, in some sort there is. For example, when I look on
a picture or statue of Julius Caesar, I may be said after a manner to
perceive him (though not immediately) by my senses.

PHIL.  It seems then you will have our ideas, which alone are
immediately perceived, to be pictures of external things: and that these
also are perceived by sense, inasmuch as they have a conformity or
resemblance to our ideas?

HYL.  That is my meaning.

PHIL.  And, in the same way that Julius Caesar, in himself invisible, is
nevertheless perceived by sight; real things, in themselves
imperceptible, are perceived by sense.

HYL.  In the very same.

PHIL.  Tell me, Hylas, when you behold the picture of Julius Caesar, do
you see with your eyes any more than some colours and figures, with a
certain symmetry and composition of the whole?

HYL.  Nothing else.

PHIL.  And would not a man who had never known anything of Julius Caesar
see as much?

HYL.  He would.

PHIL.  Consequently he hath his sight, and the use of it, in as perfect
a degree as you?

HYL.  I agree with you.

PHIL.  Whence comes it then that your thoughts are directed to the Roman
emperor, and his are not? This cannot proceed from the sensations or
ideas of sense by you then perceived; since you acknowledge you have no
advantage over him in that respect. It should seem therefore to proceed
from reason and memory: should it not?

HYL.  It should.

PHIL.  Consequently, it will not follow from that instance that anything
is perceived by sense which is not, immediately perceived. Though I grant
we may, in one acceptation, be said to perceive sensible things mediately
by sense: that is, when, from a frequently perceived connexion, the
immediate perception of ideas by one sense SUGGESTS to the mind others,
perhaps belonging to another sense, which are wont to be connected with
them. For instance, when I hear a coach drive along the streets,
immediately I perceive only the sound; but, from the experience I have
had that such a sound is connected with a coach, I am said to hear the
coach. It is nevertheless evident that, in truth and strictness, nothing
can be HEARD BUT SOUND; and the coach is not then properly perceived by
sense, but suggested from experience. So likewise when we are said to see
a red-hot bar of iron; the solidity and heat of the iron are not the
objects of sight, but suggested to the imagination by the colour and
figure which are properly perceived by that sense. In short, those things
alone are actually and strictly perceived by any sense, which would have
been perceived in case that same sense had then been first conferred on
us. As for other things, it is plain they are only suggested to the mind
by experience, grounded on former perceptions. But, to return to your
comparison of Caesar's picture, it is plain, if you keep to that, you
must hold the real things, or archetypes of our ideas, are not perceived
by sense, but by some internal faculty of the soul, as reason or memory.
I would therefore fain know what arguments you can draw from reason for
the existence of what you call REAL THINGS OR MATERIAL OBJECTS. Or,
whether you remember to have seen them formerly as they are in
themselves; or, if you have heard or read of any one that did.

HYL.  I see, Philonous, you are disposed to raillery; but that will
never convince me.

PHIL.  My aim is only to learn from you the way to come at the knowledge
of MATERIAL BEINGS. Whatever we perceive is perceived immediately or
mediately: by sense, or by reason and reflexion. But, as you have
excluded sense, pray shew me what reason you have to believe their
existence; or what MEDIUM you can possibly make use of to prove it,
either to mine or your own understanding.

HYL.  To deal ingenuously, Philonous, now I consider the point, I do not
find I can give you any good reason for it. But, thus much seems pretty
plain, that it is at least possible such things may really exist. And, as
long as there is no absurdity in supposing them, I am resolved to believe
as I did, till you bring good reasons to the contrary.

PHIL.  What! Is it come to this, that you only BELIEVE the existence
of material objects, and that your belief is founded barely on the
possibility of its being true? Then you will have me bring reasons
against it: though another would think it reasonable the proof should lie
on him who holds the affirmative. And, after all, this very point which
you are now resolved to maintain, without any reason, is in effect what
you have more than once during this discourse seen good reason to give
up. But, to pass over all this; if I understand you rightly, you say our
ideas do not exist without the mind, but that they are copies, images, or
representations, of certain originals that do?

HYL.  You take me right.

PHIL.  They are then like external things?

HYL.  They are.

PHIL.  Have those things a stable and permanent nature, independent of
our senses; or are they in a perpetual change, upon our producing any
motions in our bodies--suspending, exerting, or altering, our faculties
or organs of sense?

HYL.  Real things, it is plain, have a fixed and real nature, which
remains the same notwithstanding any change in our senses, or in the
posture and motion of our bodies; which indeed may affect the ideas in
our minds, but it were absurd to think they had the same effect on things
existing without the mind.

PHIL.  How then is it possible that things perpetually fleeting and
variable as our ideas should be copies or images of anything fixed and
constant? Or, in other words, since all sensible qualities, as
size, figure, colour, &c., that is, our ideas, are continually changing,
upon every alteration in the distance, medium, or instruments of
sensation; how can any determinate material objects be properly
represented or painted forth by several distinct things, each of which is
so different from and unlike the rest? Or, if you say it resembles some
one only of our ideas, how shall we be able to distinguish the true copy
from all the false ones?

HYL.  I profess, Philonous, I am at a loss. I know not what to say to
this.

PHIL.  But neither is this all. Which are material objects in
themselves--perceptible or imperceptible?

HYL.  Properly and immediately nothing can be perceived but ideas. All
material things, therefore, are in themselves insensible, and to be
perceived only by our ideas.

PHIL.  Ideas then are sensible, and their archetypes or originals
insensible?

HYL.  Right.

PHIL.  But how can that which is sensible be like that which is
insensible? Can a real thing, in itself INVISIBLE, be like a COLOUR;
or a real thing, which is not AUDIBLE, be like a SOUND? In a word,
can anything be like a sensation or idea, but another sensation or idea?

HYL.  I must own, I think not.

PHIL.  Is it possible there should be any doubt on the point? Do. you
not perfectly know your own ideas?

HYL.  I know them perfectly; since what I do not perceive or know can be
no part of my idea.

PHIL.  Consider, therefore, and examine them, and then tell me if there
be anything in them which can exist without the mind: or if you can
conceive anything like them existing without the mind.

HYL.  Upon inquiry, I find it is impossible for me to conceive or
understand how anything but an idea can be like an idea. And it is most
evident that NO IDEA CAN EXIST WITHOUT THE MIND.

PHIL.  You are therefore, by your principles, forced to deny the
REALITY of sensible things; since you made it to consist in an absolute
existence exterior to the mind. That is to say, you are a downright
sceptic. So I have gained my point, which was to shew your principles led
to Scepticism.

HYL.  For the present I am, if not entirely convinced, at least
silenced.

PHIL.  I would fain know what more you would require in order to a
perfect conviction. Have you not had the liberty of explaining yourself
all manner of ways? Were any little slips in discourse laid hold and
insisted on? Or were you not allowed to retract or reinforce anything you
had offered, as best served your purpose? Hath not everything you could
say been heard and examined with all the fairness imaginable? In a word
have you not in every point been convinced out of your own mouth? And, if
you can at present discover any flaw in any of your former concessions,
or think of any remaining subterfuge, any new distinction, colour, or
comment whatsoever, why do you not produce it?

HYL.  A little patience, Philonous. I am at present so amazed to see
myself ensnared, and as it were imprisoned in the labyrinths you have
drawn me into, that on the sudden it cannot be expected I should find my
way out. You must give me time to look about me and recollect myself.

PHIL.  Hark; is not this the college bell?

HYL.  It rings for prayers.

PHIL.  We will go in then, if you please, and meet here again tomorrow
morning. In the meantime, you may employ your thoughts on this morning's
discourse, and try if you can find any fallacy in it, or invent any new
means to extricate yourself.

HYL.  Agreed.




THE SECOND DIALOGUE



HYL.  I beg your pardon, Philonous, for not meeting you sooner. All
this morning my head was so filled with our late conversation that I had
not leisure to think of the time of the day, or indeed of anything else.

PHILONOUS.  I am glad you were so intent upon it, in hopes if there were
any mistakes in your concessions, or fallacies in my reasonings from
them, you will now discover them to me.

HYL.  I assure you I have done nothing ever since I saw you but search
after mistakes and fallacies, and, with that view, have minutely examined
the whole series of yesterday's discourse: but all in vain, for the
notions it led me into, upon review, appear still more clear and evident;
and, the more I consider them, the more irresistibly do they force my
assent.

PHIL.  And is not this, think you, a sign that they are genuine, that
they proceed from nature, and are conformable to right reason? Truth and
beauty are in this alike, that the strictest survey sets them both off to
advantage; while the false lustre of error and disguise cannot endure
being reviewed, or too nearly inspected.

HYL.  I own there is a great deal in what you say. Nor can any one be
more entirely satisfied of the truth of those odd consequences, so long
as I have in view the reasonings that lead to them. But, when these are
out of my thoughts, there seems, on the other hand, something so
satisfactory, so natural and intelligible, in the modern way of
explaining things that, I profess, I know not how to reject it.

PHIL.  I know not what way you mean.

HYL.  I mean the way of accounting for our sensations or ideas.

PHIL.  How is that?

HYL.  It is supposed the soul makes her residence in some part of the
brain, from which the nerves take their rise, and are thence extended to
all parts of the body; and that outward objects, by the different
impressions they make on the organs of sense, communicate certain
vibrative motions to the nerves; and these being filled with spirits
propagate them to the brain or seat of the soul, which, according
to the various impressions or traces thereby made in the brain, is
variously affected with ideas.

PHIL.  And call you this an explication of the manner whereby we are
affected with ideas?

HYL.  Why not, Philonous? Have you anything to object against it?

PHIL.  I would first know whether I rightly understand your hypothesis.
You make certain traces in the brain to be the causes or occasions of our
ideas. Pray tell me whether by the BRAIN you mean any sensible thing.

HYL.  What else think you I could mean?

PHIL.  Sensible things are all immediately perceivable; and those things
which are immediately perceivable are ideas; and these exist only in the
mind. Thus much you have, if I mistake not, long since agreed to.

HYL.  I do not deny it.

PHIL.  The brain therefore you speak of, being a sensible thing, exists
only in the mind. Now, I would fain know whether you think it reasonable
to suppose that one idea or thing existing in the mind occasions all
other ideas. And, if you think so, pray how do you account for the origin
of that primary idea or brain itself?

HYL.  I do not explain the origin of our ideas by that brain which is
perceivable to sense--this being itself only a combination of sensible
ideas--but by another which I imagine.

PHIL.  But are not things imagined as truly IN THE MIND as things
perceived?

HYL.  I must confess they are.

PHIL.  It comes, therefore, to the same thing; and you have been all
this while accounting for ideas by certain motions or impressions of the
brain; that is, by some alterations in an idea, whether sensible or
imaginable it matters not.

HYL.  I begin to suspect my hypothesis.

PHIL.  Besides spirits, all that we know or conceive are our own ideas.
When, therefore, you say all ideas are occasioned by impressions in the
brain, do you conceive this brain or no? If you do, then you talk of
ideas imprinted in an idea causing that same idea, which is absurd. If
you do not conceive it, you talk unintelligibly, instead of forming a
reasonable hypothesis.

HYL.  I now clearly see it was a mere dream. There is nothing in it.

PHIL.  You need not be much concerned at it; for after all, this way of
explaining things, as you called it, could never have satisfied any
reasonable man. What connexion is there between a motion in the nerves,
and the sensations of sound or colour in the mind? Or how is it possible
these should be the effect of that?

HYL.  But I could never think it had so little in it as now it seems to
have.

PHIL.  Well then, are you at length satisfied that no sensible things
have a real existence; and that you are in truth an arrant sceptic?

HYL.  It is too plain to be denied.

PHIL.  Look! are not the fields covered with a delightful verdure? Is
there not something in the woods and groves, in the rivers and clear
springs, that soothes, that delights, that transports the soul? At the
prospect of the wide and deep ocean, or some huge mountain whose top is
lost in the clouds, or of an old gloomy forest, are not our minds filled
with a pleasing horror? Even in rocks and deserts is there not an
agreeable wildness? How sincere a pleasure is it to behold the natural
beauties of the earth! To preserve and renew our, relish for them, is not
the veil of night alternately drawn over her face, and doth she not
change her dress with the seasons? How aptly are the elements disposed!
What variety and use in the meanest productions of nature! What
delicacy, what beauty, what contrivance, in animal and vegetable bodies I
How exquisitely are all things suited, as well to their particular ends,
as to constitute opposite parts of the whole I And, while they mutually
aid and support, do they not also set off and illustrate each other?
Raise now your thoughts from this ball of earth to all those glorious
luminaries that adorn the high arch of heaven. The motion and situation
of the planets, are they not admirable for use and order? Were those
(miscalled ERRATIC) globes once known to stray, in their repeated
journeys through the pathless void? Do they not measure areas round the
sun ever proportioned to the times? So fixed, so immutable are the laws
by which the unseen Author of nature actuates the universe. How
vivid and radiant is the lustre of the fixed stars! How magnificent and
rich that negligent profusion with which they appear to be scattered
throughout the whole azure vault! Yet, if you take the telescope, it
brings into your sight a new host of stars that escape the naked eye.
Here they seem contiguous and minute, but to a nearer view immense orbs
of fight at various distances, far sunk in the abyss of space. Now you
must call imagination to your aid. The feeble narrow sense cannot descry
innumerable worlds revolving round the central fires; and in those worlds
the energy of an all-perfect Mind displayed in endless forms. But,
neither sense nor imagination are big enough to comprehend the boundless
extent, with all its glittering furniture. Though the labouring mind
exert and strain each power to its utmost reach, there still stands out
ungrasped a surplusage immeasurable. Yet all the vast bodies that compose
this mighty frame, how distant and remote soever, are by some secret
mechanism, some Divine art and force, linked in a mutual dependence and
intercourse with each other; even with this earth, which was almost slipt
from my thoughts and lost in the crowd of worlds. Is not the whole system
immense, beautiful, glorious beyond expression and beyond thought! What
treatment, then, do those philosophers deserve, who would deprive these
noble and delightful scenes of all REALITY? How should those Principles
be entertained that lead us to think all the visible beauty of the
creation a false imaginary glare? To be plain, can you expect this
Scepticism of yours will not be thought extravagantly absurd by all men
of sense?

HYL.  Other men may think as they please; but for your part you have
nothing to reproach me with. My comfort is, you are as much a sceptic as
I am.

PHIL.  There, Hylas, I must beg leave to differ from you.

HYL.  What! Have you all along agreed to the premises, and do you now
deny the conclusion, and leave me to maintain those paradoxes by myself
which you led me into? This surely is not fair.

PHIL.  _I_ deny that I agreed with you in those notions that led to
Scepticism. You indeed said the REALITY of sensible things consisted in
AN ABSOLUTE EXISTENCE OUT OF THE MINDS OF SPIRITS, or distinct from
their being perceived. And pursuant to this notion of reality, YOU are
obliged to deny sensible things any real existence: that is,
according to your own definition, you profess yourself a sceptic. But I
neither said nor thought the reality of sensible things was to be defined
after that manner. To me it is evident for the reasons you allow of, that
sensible things cannot exist otherwise than in a mind or spirit. Whence I
conclude, not that they have no real existence, but that, seeing they
depend not on my thought, and have all existence distinct from being
perceived by me, THERE MUST BE SOME OTHER MIND WHEREIN THEY EXIST. As
sure, therefore, as the sensible world really exists, so sure is there an
infinite omnipresent Spirit who contains and supports it.

HYL.  What! This is no more than I and all Christians hold; nay, and all
others too who believe there is a God, and that He knows and comprehends
all things.

PHIL.  Aye, but here lies the difference. Men commonly believe that all
things are known or perceived by God, because they believe the being of a
God; whereas I, on the other side, immediately and necessarily conclude
the being of a God, because all sensible things must be perceived by Him.

HYL.  But, so long as we all believe the same thing, what matter is it
how we come by that belief?

PHIL.  But neither do we agree in the same opinion. For philosophers,
though they acknowledge all corporeal beings to be perceived by God, yet
they attribute to them an absolute subsistence distinct from their being
perceived by any mind whatever; which I do not. Besides, is there no
difference between saying, THERE IS A GOD, THEREFORE HE PERCEIVES ALL
THINGS; and saying, SENSIBLE THINGS DO REALLY EXIST; AND, IF THEY
REALLY EXIST, THEY ARE NECESSARILY PERCEIVED BY AN INFINITE MIND:
THEREFORE THERE IS AN INFINITE MIND OR GOD? This furnishes you with a
direct and immediate demonstration, from a most evident principle, of the
BEING OF A GOD. Divines and philosophers had proved beyond all
controversy, from the beauty and usefulness of the several parts of the
creation, that it was the workmanship of God. But that--setting aside all
help of astronomy and natural philosophy, all contemplation of the
contrivance, order, and adjustment of things--an infinite Mind should be
necessarily inferred from the bare EXISTENCE OF THE SENSIBLE WORLD, is
an advantage to them only who have made this easy reflexion: that the
sensible world is that which we perceive by our several senses; and that
nothing is perceived by the senses beside ideas; and that no idea
or archetype of an idea can exist otherwise than in a mind. You may now,
without any laborious search into the sciences, without any subtlety of
reason, or tedious length of discourse, oppose and baffle the most
strenuous advocate for Atheism. Those miserable refuges, whether in an
eternal succession of unthinking causes and effects, or in a fortuitous
concourse of atoms; those wild imaginations of Vanini, Hobbes, and
Spinoza: in a word, the whole system of Atheism, is it not entirely
overthrown, by this single reflexion on the repugnancy included in
supposing the whole, or any part, even the most rude and shapeless, of
the visible world, to exist without a mind? Let any one of those abettors
of impiety but look into his own thoughts, and there try if he can
conceive how so much as a rock, a desert, a chaos, or confused jumble of
atoms; how anything at all, either sensible or imaginable, can exist
independent of a Mind, and he need go no farther to be convinced of his
folly. Can anything be fairer than to put a dispute on such an issue, and
leave it to a man himself to see if he can conceive, even in thought,
what he holds to be true in fact, and from a notional to allow it a real
existence?

HYL.  It cannot be denied there is something highly serviceable to
religion in what you advance. But do you not think it looks very like a
notion entertained by some eminent moderns, of SEEING ALL THINGS IN
GOD?

PHIL.  I would gladly know that opinion: pray explain it to me.

HYL.  They conceive that the soul, being immaterial, is incapable of
being united with material things, so as to perceive them in themselves;
but that she perceives them by her union with the substance of God,
which, being spiritual, is therefore purely intelligible, or capable of
being the immediate object of a spirit's thought. Besides the Divine
essence contains in it perfections correspondent to each created being;
and which are, for that reason, proper to exhibit or represent them to
the mind.

PHIL.  I do not understand how our ideas, which are things altogether
passive and inert, can be the essence, or any part (or like any part) of
the essence or substance of God, who is an impassive, indivisible,
pure, active being. Many more difficulties and objections there are which
occur at first view against this hypothesis; but I shall only add that it
is liable to all the absurdities of the common hypothesis, in making a
created world exist otherwise than in the mind of a Spirit. Besides all
which it hath this peculiar to itself; that it makes that material world
serve to no purpose. And, if it pass for a good argument against other
hypotheses in the sciences, that they suppose Nature, or the Divine
wisdom, to make something in vain, or do that by tedious roundabout
methods which might have been performed in a much more easy and
compendious way, what shall we think of that hypothesis which supposes
the whole world made in vain?

HYL.  But what say you? Are not you too of opinion that we see all
things in God? If I mistake not, what you advance comes near it.

PHIL.  Few men think; yet all have opinions. Hence men's opinions are
superficial and confused. It is nothing strange that tenets which in
themselves are ever so different, should nevertheless be confounded with
each other, by those who do not consider them attentively. I shall not
therefore be surprised if some men imagine that I run into the enthusiasm
of Malebranche; though in truth I am very remote from it. He builds on
the most abstract general ideas, which I entirely disclaim. He asserts an
absolute external world, which I deny. He maintains that we are deceived
by our senses, and, know not the real natures or the true forms and
figures of extended beings; of all which I hold the direct contrary. So
that upon the whole there are no Principles more fundamentally opposite
than his and mine. It must be owned that I entirely agree with what
the holy Scripture saith, "That in God we live and move and have our
being." But that we see things in His essence, after the manner above set
forth, I am far from believing. Take here in brief my meaning:--It is
evident that the things I perceive are my own ideas, and that no idea can
exist unless it be in a mind: nor is it less plain that these ideas or
things by me perceived, either themselves or their archetypes, exist
independently of my mind, since I know myself not to be their author, it
being out of my power to determine at pleasure what particular ideas I
shall be affected with upon opening my eyes or ears: they must therefore
exist in some other Mind, whose Will it is they should be exhibited
to me. The things, I say, immediately perceived are ideas or sensations,
call them which you will. But how can any idea or sensation exist in, or
be produced by, anything but a mind or spirit? This indeed is
inconceivable. And to assert that which is inconceivable is to talk
nonsense: is it not?

HYL.  Without doubt.

PHIL.  But, on the other hand, it is very conceivable that they should
exist in and be produced by a spirit; since this is no more than I daily
experience in myself, inasmuch as I perceive numberless ideas; and, by an
act of my will, can form a great variety of them, and raise them up in my
imagination: though, it must be confessed, these creatures of the fancy
are not altogether so distinct, so strong, vivid, and permanent, as those
perceived by my senses--which latter are called RED THINGS. From all
which I conclude, THERE IS A MIND WHICH AFFECTS ME EVERY MOMENT WITH ALL
THE SENSIBLE IMPRESSIONS I PERCEIVE. AND, from the variety, order, and
manner of these, I conclude THE AUTHOR OF THEM TO BE WISE, POWERFUL,
AND GOOD, BEYOND COMPREHENSION. MARK it well; I do not say, I see
things by perceiving that which represents them in the intelligible
Substance of God. This I do not understand; but I say, the things by me
perceived are known by the understanding, and produced by the will of an
infinite Spirit. And is not all this most plain and evident? Is there any
more in it than what a little observation in our own minds, and that
which passeth in them, not only enables us to conceive, but also obliges
us to acknowledge.

HYL.  I think I understand you very clearly; and own the proof you give
of a Deity seems no less evident than it is surprising. But, allowing
that God is the supreme and universal Cause of an things, yet, may there
not be still a Third Nature besides Spirits and Ideas? May we not admit a
subordinate and limited cause of our ideas? In a word, may there not for
all that be MATTER?

PHIL.  How often must I inculcate the same thing? You allow the things
immediately perceived by sense to exist nowhere without the mind; but
there is nothing perceived by sense which is not perceived immediately:
therefore there is nothing sensible that exists without the mind. The
Matter, therefore, which you still insist on is something intelligible, I
suppose; something that may be discovered by reason, and not by sense.

HYL.  You are in the right.

PHIL.  Pray let me know what reasoning your belief of Matter is grounded
on; and what this Matter is, in your present sense of it.

HYL.  I find myself affected with various ideas, whereof I know I am not
the cause; neither are they the cause of themselves, or of one another,
or capable of subsisting by themselves, as being altogether inactive,
fleeting, dependent beings. They have therefore SOME cause distinct
from me and them: of which I pretend to know no more than that it is THE
CAUSE OF MY IDEAS. And this thing, whatever it be, I call Matter.

PHIL.  Tell me, Hylas, hath every one a liberty to change the current
proper signification attached to a common name in any language? For
example, suppose a traveller should tell you that in a certain country
men pass unhurt through the fire; and, upon explaining himself, you found
he meant by the word fire that which others call WATER. Or, if he
should assert that there are trees that walk upon two legs, meaning men
by the term TREES. Would you think this reasonable?

HYL.  No; I should think it very absurd. Common custom is the standard
of propriety in language. And for any man to affect speaking improperly
is to pervert the use of speech, and can never serve to a better purpose
than to protract and multiply disputes, where there is no difference in
opinion.

PHIL.  And doth not MATTER, in the common current acceptation of the
word, signify an extended, solid, moveable, unthinking, inactive
Substance?

HYL.  It doth.

PHIL.  And, hath it not been made evident that no SUCH substance can
possibly exist? And, though it should be allowed to exist, yet how can
that which is INACTIVE be a CAUSE; or that which is UNTHINKING be a
CAUSE OF THOUGHT? You may, indeed, if you please, annex to the word
MATTER a contrary meaning to what is vulgarly received; and tell me you
understand by it, an unextended, thinking, active being, which is the
cause of our ideas. But what else is this than to play with words, and
run into that very fault you just now condemned with so much reason? I do
by no means find fault with your reasoning, in that you collect a cause
from the PHENOMENA: BUT I deny that THE cause deducible by reason
can properly be termed Matter.

HYL.  There is indeed something in what you say. But I am afraid
you do not thoroughly comprehend my meaning. I would by no means be
thought to deny that God, or an infinite Spirit, is the Supreme Cause of
all things. All I contend for is, that, subordinate to the Supreme Agent,
there is a cause of a limited and inferior nature, which CONCURS in the
production of our ideas, not by any act of will, or spiritual efficiency,
but by that kind of action which belongs to Matter, viz. MOTION.

PHIL.  I find you are at every turn relapsing into your old exploded
conceit, of a moveable, and consequently an extended, substance, existing
without the mind. What! Have you already forgotten you were convinced; or
are you willing I should repeat what has been said on that head? In truth
this is not fair dealing in you, still to suppose the being of that which
you have so often acknowledged to have no being. But, not to insist
farther on what has been so largely handled, I ask whether all your ideas
are not perfectly passive and inert, including nothing of action in them.

HYL.  They are.

PHIL.  And are sensible qualities anything else but ideas?

HYL.  How often have I acknowledged that they are not.

PHIL.  But is not MOTION a sensible quality?

HYL.  It is.

PHIL.  Consequently it is no action?

HYL.  I agree with you. And indeed it is very plain that when I stir my
finger, it remains passive; but my will which produced the motion is
active.

PHIL.  Now, I desire to know, in the first place, whether, motion being
allowed to be no action, you can conceive any action besides volition:
and, in the second place, whether to say something and conceive nothing
be not to talk nonsense: and, lastly, whether, having considered the
premises, you do not perceive that to suppose any efficient or active
Cause of our ideas, other than SPIRIT, is highly absurd and
unreasonable?

HYL.  I give up the point entirely. But, though Matter may not be a
cause, yet what hinders its being an INSTRUMENT, subservient to the
supreme Agent in the production of our ideas?

PHIL.  An instrument say you; pray what may be the figure, springs,
wheels, and motions, of that instrument?

HYL.  Those I pretend to determine nothing of, both the substance and
its qualities being entirely unknown to me.

PHIL.  What? You are then of opinion it is made up of unknown
parts, that it hath unknown motions, and an unknown shape?

HYL.  I do not believe that it hath any figure or motion at all, being
already convinced, that no sensible qualities can exist in an
unperceiving substance.

PHIL.  But what notion is it possible to frame of an instrument void of
all sensible qualities, even extension itself?

HYL.  I do not pretend to have any notion of it.

PHIL.  And what reason have you to think this unknown, this
inconceivable Somewhat doth exist? Is it that you imagine God cannot act
as well without it; or that you find by experience the use of some such
thing, when you form ideas in your own mind?

HYL.  You are always teasing me for reasons of my belief. Pray what
reasons have you not to believe it?

PHIL.  It is to me a sufficient reason not to believe the existence of
anything, if I see no reason for believing it. But, not to insist on
reasons for believing, you will not so much as let me know WHAT IT IS
you would have me believe; since you say you have no manner of notion of
it. After all, let me entreat you to consider whether it be like a
philosopher, or even like a man of common sense, to pretend to believe
you know not what and you know not why.

HYL.  Hold, Philonous. When I tell you Matter is an INSTRUMENT, I do
not mean altogether nothing. It is true I know not the particular kind of
instrument; but, however, I have some notion of INSTRUMENT IN GENERAL,
which I apply to it.

PHIL.  But what if it should prove that there is something, even in the
most general notion of INSTRUMENT, as taken in a distinct sense from
CAUSE, which makes the use of it inconsistent with the Divine
attributes?

HYL.  Make that appear and I shall give up the point.

PHIL.  What mean you by the general nature or notion of INSTRUMENT?

HYL.  That which is common to all particular instruments composeth the
general notion.

PHIL.  Is it not common to all instruments, that they are applied to the
doing those things only which cannot be performed by the mere act of our
wills? Thus, for instance, I never use an instrument to move my finger,
because it is done by a volition. But I should use one if I were to
remove part of a rock, or tear up a tree by the roots. Are you of the
same mind? Or, can you shew any example where an instrument is made
use of in producing an effect IMMEDIATELY depending on the will of the
agent?

HYL.  I own I cannot.

PHIL.  How therefore can you suppose that an All-perfect Spirit, on
whose Will all things have an absolute and immediate dependence, should
need an instrument in his operations, or, not needing it, make use of it?
Thus it seems to me that you are obliged to own the use of a lifeless
inactive instrument to be incompatible with the infinite perfection of
God; that is, by your own confession, to give up the point.

HYL.  It doth not readily occur what I can answer you.

PHIL.  But, methinks you should be ready to own the truth, when it has
been fairly proved to you. We indeed, who are beings of finite powers,
are forced to make use of instruments. And the use of an instrument
sheweth the agent to be limited by rules of another's prescription, and
that he cannot obtain his end but in such a way, and by such conditions.
Whence it seems a clear consequence, that the supreme unlimited agent
useth no tool or instrument at all. The will of an Omnipotent Spirit is
no sooner exerted than executed, without the application of means; which,
if they are employed by inferior agents, it is not upon account of any
real efficacy that is in them, or necessary aptitude to produce any
effect, but merely in compliance with the laws of nature, or those
conditions prescribed to them by the First Cause, who is Himself above
all limitation or prescription whatsoever.

HYL.  I will no longer maintain that Matter is an instrument. However, I
would not be understood to give up its existence neither; since,
notwithstanding what hath been said, it may still be an OCCASION.

PHIL.  How many shapes is your Matter to take? Or, how often must it be
proved not to exist, before you are content to part with it? But, to say
no more of this (though by all the laws of disputation I may justly blame

you for so frequently changing the signification of the principal
term)--I would fain know what you mean by affirming that matter is an
occasion, having already denied it to be a cause. And, when you have
shewn in what sense you understand OCCASION, pray, in the next place,
be pleased to shew me what reason induceth you to believe there is such
an occasion of our ideas?

HYL.  As to the first point: by OCCASION I mean an inactive
unthinking being, at the presence whereof God excites ideas in our minds.

PHIL.  And what may be the nature of that inactive unthinking being?

HYL.  I know nothing of its nature.

PHIL.  Proceed then to the second point, and assign some reason why we
should allow an existence to this inactive, unthinking, unknown thing.

HYL.  When we see ideas produced in our minds, after an orderly and
constant manner, it is natural to think they have some fixed and regular
occasions, at the presence of which they are excited.

PHIL.  You acknowledge then God alone to be the cause of our ideas, and
that He causes them at the presence of those occasions.

HYL.  That is my opinion.

PHIL.  Those things which you say are present to God, without doubt He
perceives.

HYL.  Certainly; otherwise they could not be to Him an occasion of acting.

PHIL.  Not to insist now on your making sense of this hypothesis, or
answering all the puzzling questions and difficulties it is liable to: I
only ask whether the order and regularity observable in the series of our
ideas, or the course of nature, be not sufficiently accounted for by the
wisdom and power of God; and whether it doth not derogate from those
attributes, to suppose He is influenced, directed, or put in mind, when
and what He is to act, by an unthinking substance? And, lastly, whether,
in case I granted all you contend for, it would make anything to your
purpose; it not being easy to conceive how the external or absolute
existence of an unthinking substance, distinct from its being perceived,
can be inferred from my allowing that there are certain things perceived
by the mind of God, which are to Him the occasion of producing ideas in
us?

HYL.  I am perfectly at a loss what to think, this notion of OCCASION
seeming now altogether as groundless as the rest.

PHIL.  Do you not at length perceive that in all these different
acceptations of MATTER, you have been only supposing you know not what,
for no manner of reason, and to no kind of use?

HYL.  I freely own myself less fond of my notions since they have been
so accurately examined. But still, methinks, I have some confused
perception that there is such a thing as MATTER.

PHIL.  Either you perceive the being of Matter immediately or mediately.
If immediately, pray inform me by which of the senses you perceive it. If
mediately, let me know by what reasoning it is inferred from those things
which you perceive immediately. So much for the perception. Then for the
Matter itself, I ask whether it is object, SUBSTRATUM, cause,
instrument, or occasion? You have already pleaded for each of these,
shifting your notions, and making Matter to appear sometimes in one
shape, then in another. And what you have offered hath been disapproved
and rejected by yourself. If you have anything new to advance I would
gladly bear it.

HYL.  I think I have already offered all I had to say on those heads. I
am at a loss what more to urge.

PHIL.  And yet you are loath to part with your old prejudice. But, to
make you quit it more easily, I desire that, beside what has been
hitherto suggested, you will farther consider whether, upon. supposition
that Matter exists, you can possibly conceive how you should be affected
by it. Or, supposing it did not exist, whether it be not evident you
might for all that be affected with the same ideas you now are, and
consequently have the very same reasons to believe its existence that you
now can have.

HYL.  I acknowledge it is possible we might perceive all things just as
we do now, though there was no Matter in the world; neither can I
conceive, if there be Matter, how it should produce' any idea in our
minds. And, I do farther grant you have entirely satisfied me that it is
impossible there should be such a thing as matter in any of the foregoing
acceptations. But still I cannot help supposing that there is MATTER in
some sense or other. WHAT THAT IS I do not indeed pretend to determine.

PHIL.  I do not expect you should define exactly the nature of that
unknown being. Only be pleased to tell me whether it is a Substance; and
if so, whether you can suppose a Substance without accidents; or, in case
you suppose it to have accidents or qualities, I desire you will let me
know what those qualities are, at least what is meant by Matter's
supporting them?

HYL.  We have already argued on those points. I have no more to say to
them. But, to prevent any farther questions, let me tell you I at present
understand by MATTER neither substance nor accident, thinking nor
extended being, neither cause, instrument, nor occasion, but Something
entirely unknown, distinct from all these.

PHIL.  It seems then you include in your present notion of Matter
nothing but the general abstract idea of ENTITY.

HYL.  Nothing else; save only that I super-add to this general idea the
negation of all those particular things, qualities, or ideas, that I
perceive, imagine, or in anywise apprehend.

PHIL.  Pray where do you suppose this unknown Matter to exist?

HYL.  Oh Philonous! now you think you have entangled me; for, if I say
it exists in place, then you will infer that it exists in the mind, since
it is agreed that place or extension exists only in the mind. But I am
not ashamed to own my ignorance. I know not where it exists; only I am
sure it exists not in place. There is a negative answer for you. And you
must expect no other to all the questions you put for the future about
Matter.

PHIL.  Since you will not tell me where it exists, be pleased to inform
me after what manner you suppose it to exist, or what you mean by its
EXISTENCE?

HYL.  It neither thinks nor acts, neither perceives nor is perceived.

PHIL.  But what is there positive in your abstracted notion of its
existence?

HYL.  Upon a nice observation, I do not find I have any positive notion
or meaning at all. I tell you again, I am not ashamed to own my
ignorance. I know not what is meant by its EXISTENCE, or how it exists.

PHIL.  Continue, good Hylas, to act the same ingenuous part, and tell me
sincerely whether you can frame a distinct idea of Entity in general,
prescinded from and exclusive of all thinking and corporeal beings, all
particular things whatsoever.

HYL.  Hold, let me think a little--I profess, Philonous, I do not find
that I can. At first glance, methought I had some dilute and airy notion
of Pure Entity in abstract; but, upon closer attention, it hath quite
vanished out of sight. The more I think on it, the more am I confirmed in
my prudent resolution of giving none but negative answers, and not
pretending to the least degree of any positive knowledge or conception of
Matter, its WHERE, its HOW, its ENTITY, or anything belonging to
it.

PHIL.  When, therefore, you speak of the existence of Matter, you have
not any notion in your mind?

HYL.  None at all.

PHIL.  Pray tell me if the case stands not thus--At first, from a belief
of material substance, you would have it that the immediate objects
existed without the mind; then that they are archetypes; then causes;
next instruments; then occasions: lastly SOMETHING IN GENERAL, which
being interpreted proves NOTHING. So Matter comes to nothing. What
think you, Hylas, is not this a fair summary of your whole proceeding?

HYL.  Be that as it will, yet I still insist upon it, that our not being
able to conceive a thing is no argument against its existence.

PHIL.  That from a cause, effect, operation, sign, or other
circumstance, there may reasonably be inferred the existence of a thing
not immediately perceived; and that it were absurd for any man to argue
against the existence of that thing, from his having no direct and
positive notion of it, I freely own. But, where there is nothing of all
this; where neither reason nor revelation induces us to believe the
existence of a thing; where we have not even a relative notion of it;
where an abstraction is made from perceiving and being perceived, from
Spirit and idea: lastly, where there is not so much as the most
inadequate or faint idea pretended to--I will not indeed thence conclude
against the reality of any notion, or existence of anything; but my
inference shall be, that you mean nothing at all; that you employ words
to no manner of purpose, without any design or signification whatsoever.
And I leave it to you to consider how mere jargon should be treated.

HYL.  To deal frankly with you, Philonous, your arguments seem in
themselves unanswerable; but they have not so great an effect on me as to
produce that entire conviction, that hearty acquiescence, which attends
demonstration. I find myself relapsing into an obscure surmise of I know
not what, MATTER.

PHIL.  But, are you not sensible, Hylas, that two things must concur to
take away all scruple, and work a plenary assent in the mind? Let a
visible object be set in never so clear a light, yet, if there is any
imperfection in the sight, or if the eye is not directed towards it, it
will not be distinctly seen. And though a demonstration be never so well
grounded and fairly proposed, yet, if there is withal a stain of
prejudice, or a wrong bias on the understanding, can it be expected on a
sudden to perceive clearly, and adhere firmly to the truth? No; there is
need of time and pains: the attention must be awakened and detained by a
frequent repetition of the same thing placed oft in the same, oft in
different lights. I have said it already, and find I must still repeat
and inculcate, that it is an unaccountable licence you take, in
pretending to maintain you know not what, for you know not what reason,
to you know not what purpose. Can this be paralleled in any art or
science, any sect or profession of men? Or is there anything so
barefacedly groundless and unreasonable to be met with even in the lowest
of common conversation? But, perhaps you will still say, Matter may
exist; though at the same time you neither know WHAT IS MEANT by
MATTER, or by its EXISTENCE. This indeed is surprising, and the more
so because it is altogether voluntary and of your own head, you not
being led to it by any one reason; for I challenge you to shew me that
thing in nature which needs Matter to explain or account for it.

HYL.  THE REALITY of things cannot be maintained without supposing the
existence of Matter. And is not this, think you, a good reason why I
should be earnest in its defence?

PHIL.  The reality of things! What things? sensible or intelligible?

HYL.  Sensible things.

PHIL.  My glove for example?

HYL.  That, or any other thing perceived by the senses.

PHIL.  But to fix on some particular thing. Is it not a sufficient
evidence to me of the existence of this GLOVE, that I see it, and feel
it, and wear it? Or, if this will not do, how is it possible I should be
assured of the reality of this thing, which I actually see in this place,
by supposing that some unknown thing, which I never did or can see,
exists after an unknown manner, in an unknown place, or in no place at
all? How can the supposed reality of that which is intangible be a proof
that anything tangible really exists? Or, of that which is invisible,
that any visible thing, or, in general of anything which is
imperceptible, that a perceptible exists? Do but explain this and I shall
think nothing too hard for you.

HYL.  Upon the whole, I am content to own the existence of matter is
highly improbable; but the direct and absolute impossibility of it does
not appear to me.

PHIL.  But granting Matter to be possible, yet, upon that account
merely, it can have no more claim to existence than a golden mountain, or
a centaur.

HYL.  I acknowledge it; but still you do not deny it is possible; and
that which is possible, for aught you know, may actually exist.

PHIL.  I deny it to be possible; and have, if I mistake not,
evidently proved, from your own concessions, that it is not. In the
common sense of the word MATTER, is there any more implied than an
extended, solid, figured, moveable substance, existing without the mind?
And have not you acknowledged, over and over, that you have seen evident
reason for denying the possibility of such a substance?

HYL.  True, but that is only one sense of the term MATTER.

PHIL.  But is it not the only proper genuine received sense? And, if
Matter, in such a sense, be proved impossible, may it not be thought with
good grounds absolutely impossible? Else how could anything be proved
impossible? Or, indeed, how could there be any proof at all one way or
other, to a man who takes the liberty to unsettle and change the common
signification of words?

HYL.  I thought philosophers might be allowed to speak more accurately
than the vulgar, and were not always confined to the common acceptation
of a term.

PHIL.  But this now mentioned is the common received sense among
philosophers themselves. But, not to insist on that, have you not been
allowed to take Matter in what sense you pleased? And have you not used
this privilege in the utmost extent; sometimes entirely changing, at
others leaving out, or putting into the definition of it whatever, for
the present, best served your design, contrary to all the known rules of
reason and logic? And hath not this shifting, unfair method of yours spun
out our dispute to an unnecessary length; Matter having been particularly
examined, and by your own confession refuted in each of those senses? And
can any more be required to prove the absolute impossibility of a thing,
than the proving it impossible in every particular sense that either you
or any one else understands it in?

HYL.  But I am not so thoroughly satisfied that you have proved the
impossibility of Matter, in the last most obscure abstracted and
indefinite sense.

PHIL. . When is a thing shewn to be impossible?

HYL.  When a repugnancy is demonstrated between the ideas comprehended
in its definition.

PHIL.  But where there are no ideas, there no repugnancy can be
demonstrated between ideas?

HYL.  I agree with you.

PHIL.  Now, in that which you call the obscure indefinite sense of the
word MATTER, it is plain, by your own confession, there was
included no idea at all, no sense except an unknown sense; which is the
same thing as none. You are not, therefore, to expect I should prove a
repugnancy between ideas, where there are no ideas; or the impossibility
of Matter taken in an UNKNOWN sense, that is, no sense at all. My
business was only to shew you meant NOTHING; and this you were brought
to own. So that, in all your various senses, you have been shewed either
to mean nothing at all, or, if anything, an absurdity. And if this be not
sufficient to prove the impossibility of a thing, I desire you will let
me know what is.

HYL.  I acknowledge you have proved that Matter is impossible; nor do I
see what more can be said in defence of it. But, at the same time that I
give up this, I suspect all my other notions. For surely none could be
more seemingly evident than this once was: and yet it now seems as false
and absurd as ever it did true before. But I think we have discussed the
point sufficiently for the present. The remaining part of the day I would
willingly spend in running over in my thoughts the several heads of this
morning's conversation, and tomorrow shall be glad to meet you here again
about the same time.

PHIL.  I will not fail to attend you.




THE THIRD DIALOGUE



PHILONOUS.  Tell me, Hylas, what are the fruits of yesterday's
meditation? Has it confirmed you in the same mind you were in at parting?
or have you since seen cause to change your opinion?

HYLAS.  Truly my opinion is that all our opinions are alike vain and
uncertain. What we approve to-day, we condemn to-morrow. We keep a stir
about knowledge, and spend our lives in the pursuit of it, when, alas I
we know nothing all the while: nor do I think it possible for us ever to
know anything in this life. Our faculties are too narrow and too few.
Nature certainly never intended us for speculation.

PHIL.  What! Say you we can know nothing, Hylas?

HYL.  There is not that single thing in the world whereof we can know
the real nature, or what it is in itself.

PHIL.  Will you tell me I do not really know what fire or water is?

HYL.  You may indeed know that fire appears hot, and water fluid; but
this is no more than knowing what sensations are produced in your own
mind, upon the application of fire and water to your organs of sense.
Their internal constitution, their true and real nature, you are utterly
in the dark as to THAT.

PHIL.  Do I not know this to be a real stone that I stand on, and that
which I see before my eyes to be a real tree?

HYL.  KNOW? No, it is impossible you or any man alive should know it.
All you know is, that you have such a certain idea or appearance in your
own mind. But what is this to the real tree or stone? I tell you that
colour, figure, and hardness, which you perceive, are not the real
natures of those things, or in the least like them. The same may be said
of all other real things, or corporeal substances, which compose the
world. They have none of them anything of themselves, like those sensible
qualities by us perceived. We should not therefore pretend to affirm or
know anything of them, as they are in their own nature.

PHIL.  But surely, Hylas, I can distinguish gold, for example,
from iron: and how could this be, if I knew not what either truly was?

HYL.  Believe me, Philonous, you can only distinguish between your own
ideas. That yellowness, that weight, and other sensible qualities, think
you they are really in the gold? They are only relative to the senses,
and have no absolute existence in nature. And in pretending to
distinguish the species of real things, by the appearances in your mind,
you may perhaps act as wisely as he that should conclude two men were of
a different species, because their clothes were not of the same colour.

PHIL.  It seems, then, we are altogether put off with the appearances of
things, and those false ones too. The very meat I eat, and the cloth I
wear, have nothing in them like what I see and feel.

HYL.  Even so.

PHIL.  But is it not strange the whole world should be thus imposed on,
and so foolish as to believe their senses? And yet I know not how it is,
but men eat, and drink, and sleep, and perform all the offices of life,
as comfortably and conveniently as if they really knew the things they
are conversant about.

HYL.  They do so: but you know ordinary practice does not require a
nicety of speculative knowledge. Hence the vulgar retain their mistakes,
and for all that make a shift to bustle through the affairs of life. But
philosophers know better things.

PHIL.  You mean, they KNOW that they KNOW NOTHING.

HYL.  That is the very top and perfection of human knowledge.

PHIL.  But are you all this while in earnest, Hylas; and are you
seriously persuaded that you know nothing real in the world? Suppose you
are going to write, would you not call for pen, ink, and paper, like
another man; and do you not know what it is you call for?

HYL.  How often must I tell you, that I know not the real nature of any
one thing in the universe? I may indeed upon occasion make use of pen,
ink, and paper. But what any one of them is in its own true nature, I
declare positively I know not. And the same is true with regard to every,
other corporeal thing. And, what is more, we are not only ignorant of the
true and real nature of things, but even of their existence. It cannot be
denied that we perceive such certain appearances or ideas; but it cannot
be concluded from thence that bodies really exist. Nay, now I think
on it, I must, agreeably to my former concessions, farther declare that
it is impossible any REAL corporeal thing should exist in nature.

PHIL.  You amaze me. Was ever anything more wild and extravagant than
the notions you now maintain: and is it not evident you are led into all
these extravagances by the belief of MATERIAL SUBSTANCE? This makes you
dream of those unknown natures in everything. It is this occasions your
distinguishing between the reality and sensible appearances of things. It
is to this you are indebted for being ignorant of what everybody else
knows perfectly well. Nor is this all: you are not only ignorant of the
true nature of everything, but you know not whether anything really
exists, or whether there are any true natures at all; forasmuch as you
attribute to your material beings an absolute or external existence,
wherein you suppose their reality consists.