Essays and treatises: on several subjects. By David Hume, Esq; In four volumes. ... [pt.3]

SECTION XI.

Of a PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE and of a FUTURE STATE.

I WAS lately engaged in conversation with a friend who loves sceptical paradoxes; where, tho' he ad|vanced many principles, of which I can by no means approve, yet as they seem to be curious, and to bear some relation to the chain of reasoning carried on thro' this enquiry, I shall here copy them from my memory as accurately as I can, in order to submit them to the judgment of the reader.

OUR conversation began with my admiring the singular good fortune of philosophy, which, as it re|quires intire liberty, above all other privileges, and flourishes chiefly from the free opposition of senti|ments and argumentation, received its first birth in an age and country of freedom and toleration, and was never cramped, even in its most extravagant prin|ciples, by any creeds, confessions, or penal statutes. For except the banishment of PROTAGORAS, and the

death of SOCRATES, which last event proceeded partly from other motives, there are scarce any in|stances to be met with, in antient history, of this bi|gotted jealousy, with which the present age is so much infested. EPICURUS lived at ATHENS to an advan|ced age, in peace and tranquillity: EPICUREANS * 1.1 were even admitted to receive the sacerdotal charac|ter, and to officiate at the altar, in the most sacred rites of the established religion: And the public en|couragement† 1.2 of pensions and salaries was afforded equally, by the wisest of all the ROMAN emperors‡ 1.3, to the professors of every sect of philosophy. How re|quisite such kind of treatment was to philosophy, in its first origin, will easily be conceived, if we reflect, that even at present, when it may be supposed more hardy and robust, it bears with much difficulty the in|clemency of the seasons, and those harsh winds of ca|lumny and persecution, which blow upon it.

YOU admire, says my friend, as the singular good fortune of philosophy, what seems to result from the natural course of things, and to be unavoidable in every age and nation. This pertinacious bigotry, of which you complain, as so fatal to philosophy, is re|ally her offspring, who, after allying with superstition, separates himself intirely from the interest of his pa|rent, and becomes her most inveterate enemy and

persecutor. Speculative dogmas of religion, the pre|sent occasions of such furious dispute, could not pos|sibly be conceived or admitted in the early ages of the world; when mankind, being wholly illiterate, formed an idea of religion, more suitable to their weak apprehension, and composed their sacred tenets chiefly of such tales as were the objects of traditional belief, more than of argument or disputation. After the first alarm, therefore, was over, which arose from the new paradoxes and principles of the philosophers; these teachers seem ever after, during the ages of an|tiquity, to have lived in great harmony with the esta|blished superstitions, and to have made a fair partition of mankind between them; the former claiming all the learned and the wise, and the latter possessing all the vulgar and illiterate.

IT seems then, says I, that you leave politics intirely out of the question, and never suppose, that a wise magistrate can justly be jealous of certain tenets of philosophy, such as those of EPICURUS, which deny|ing a divine existence, and consequently a providence and a future state, seem to loosen, in a great measure, the ties of morality, and may be supposed, for that reason, pernicious to the peace of civil society.

I KNOW, replied he, that in fact these persecutions never, in any age, proceeded from calm reason, or any experience of the pernicious consequences of phi|losophy;

but arose intirely from passion and pre|judice. But what if I should advance farther, and assert, that if EPICURUS had been accused before the people, by any of the sycophants or informers of those days, he could easily have defended his cause, and proved his principles of philosophy to be as salutary as those of his adversaries, who endeavoured, with such zeal, to expose him to the public hatred and jealousy?

I WISH, said I, you would try your eloquence up|on so extraordinary a topic, and make a speech for EPICURUS, which might satisfy, not the mob of ATHENS, if you will allow that antient and polite city to have contained any mob, but the more philo|sophical part of his audience, such as might be sup|posed capable of comprehending his arguments.

THE matter would not be difficult, upon such con|ditions, replied he: And if you please, I shall sup|pose myself EPICURUS for a moment, and make you stand for the ATHENIAN people, and shall deliver you such an harangue as will fill all the urn with white beans, and leave not a black one to gratify and malice of my adversaries.

VERY well: Pray proceed upon these supposi|tions.

I COME hither, O ye ATHENIANS, to justify in your assembly what I maintained in my school, and find myself impeached by furious antagonists, instead of reasoning with calm and dispassionate inquirers. Your deliberations, which of right should be directed to questions of public good, and the interest of the commonwealth, are diverted to the disquisitions of speculative philosophy; and these magnificent, but perhaps fruitless inquiries, take place of your more familiar but more useful occupations. But so far as in me lies, I will prevent this abuse. We shall not herre dispute concerning the origin and government of worlds. We shall only inquire how far such questions concern the public interest. And if I can persuade you, that they are intirely indifferent to the peace of society and security of government, I hope that you will presently send us back to our schools, there to ex|amine at leisure the question the most sublime, but, at the same time, the most speculative of all philosophy.

THE religious philosophers, not satisfied with the traditions of your forefathers, and doctrines of your priests (in which I willingly acquiesce) indulge a rash curiosity, in trying how far they can establish religion upon the principles of reason; and they thereby ex|cite, instead of satisfying, the doubts, which naturally arise from a diligent and scrutinous inquiry. They paint, in the most magnificent colours, the order, beauty, and wise arrangement of the universe; and

then ask, if such a glorious display of intelligence could proceed from the fortuitous concourse of atoms, or if chance could produce what the highest genius can never sufficiently admire. I shall not examine the justness of this argument. I shall allow it to be as solid as my antagonists and accusers can desire. 'Tis sufficient, if I can prove, from this very reason|ing, that the question is intirely speculative, and that when, in my philosophical disquisitions, I deny a pro|vidence and a future state, I undermine not the foun|dations of society, but advance principles, which they themselves, upon their own topics, if they argue consistently, must allow to be solid and satisfactory.

YOU then, who are my accusers, have acknowleged, that the chief or sole argument for a divine existence (which I never questioned) is derived from the order of nature; where there appear such marks of intelli|gence and design, that you think it extravagant to as|sign for its cause, either chance, or the blind and un|guided force of matter. You allow, that this is an argument drawn from effects to causes. From the order of the work you infer, that there must have been project and forethought in the workman. If you cannot make out this point, you allow, that your conclusion fails; and you pretend not to establish the conclusion in a greater latitude than the phaenomena of nature will justify. These are your concessions. I desire you to mark the consequences.

WHEN we infer any particular cause from an ef|fect, we must proportion the one to the other, and can never be allowed to ascribe to the cause any qua|lities, but what are exactly sufficient to produce the effect. A body of ten ounces raised in any scale may serve as a proof, that the counterbalancing weight ex|ceeds ten ounces; but can never afford a reason that it exceeds a hundred. If the cause, assigned for any effect, be not sufficient to produce it, we must either reject that cause, or add to it such qualities as will give it a just proportion to the effect. But if we ascribe to it farther qualities, or affirm it capable of producing other effects, we can only indulge the li|cence of conjecture, and arbitrarily suppose the exis|tence of qualities and energies, without reason or au|thority.

THE same rule holds, whether the cause assigned be brute unconscious matter, or a rational intelligent being. If the cause be known only by the effect, we never ought to assign to it any qualities, beyond what are precisely requisite to produce the effect: Nor can we, by any rules of just reasoning, return back from the cause, and infer other effects from it, beyond those by which alone it is known to us. No one, merely from the sight of one of ZEUXIS's pictures, could know, that he was also a statuary or architect, and was an artist no less skilful in stone and marble than in colours. The talents and taste displayed in the par|ticular

work before us; these we may safely conclude the workman to be possessed of. The cause must be proportioned to the effect: And if we exactly and precisely proportion it, we shall never find in it any qualities that point farther, or afford an inference con|cerning any other design or performance. Such qua|lities must be somewhat beyond what is merely requi|site to produce the effect which we examine.

ALLOWING, therefore, the gods to be the authors of the existence or order of the universe; it follows, that they possess that precise degree of power, intelligence, and benevolence, which appears in their workman|ship; but nothing farther can ever be proved, except we call in the assistance of exaggeration and flattery to supply the defects of argument and reasoning. So far as the traces of any attributes, at present, appear, so far may we conclude these attributes to exist. The supposition of farther attributes is mere hypothesis; much more, the supposition, that, in distant periods of place and time, there has been, or will be, a more magnificent display of these attributes, and a scheme of administration more suitable to such imaginary vir|tues. We can never be allowed to mount up from the universe, the effect, to JUPITER, the cause; and then descend downwards, to infer any new effect from that cause; as if the present effects alone were not in|tirely worthy of the glorious attributes which we as|cribe to that deity. The knowlege of the cause being

derived solely from the effect, they must be exactly ad|justed to each other, and the one can never refer to any thing farther, or be the foundation of any new in|ference and conclusion.

YOU find certain phaenomena in nature. You seek a cause or author. You imagine that you have found him. You afterwards become so enamoured of this offspring of your brain, that you imagine it impos|sible but he must produce something greater and more perfect than the present scene of things, which is so full of ill and disorder. You forget, that this super|lative intelligence and benevolence are intirely ima|ginary, or, at least, without any foundation in reason; and that you have no ground to ascribe to him any qualities, but what you see he has actually exerted and displayed in his productions. Let your gods, therefore, O philosophers, be suited to the present appearances of nature: And presume not to alter these appearances by arbitrary suppositions, in order to suit them to the attributes, which you so fondly ascribe to your deities.

WHEN priests and poets, supported by your autho|rity, O ATHENIANS, talk of a golden or a silver age, which preceded the present scene of vice and misery, I hear them with attention and with reverence. But when philosophers, who pretend to neglect authority, and to cultivate reason, hold the same discourse, I pay

them not, I own, the same obsequious submission and pious deference. I ask; Who carried them into the celestial regions, who admitted them into the councils of the gods, who opened to them the book of fate, that they thus rashly affirm that their deities have exe|cuted, or will execute, any purpose, beyond what has actually appeared? If they tell me, that they have mounted on the steps or by the gradual ascent of rea|son, and by drawing inferences from effects to causes, I still insist, that they have aided the ascent of reason by the wings of imagination; otherwise they could not thus change their manner of inference, and argue from causes to effect; presuming, that a more perfect production than the present world would be more sui|table to such perfect beings as the gods, and forget|ting, that they have no reason to ascribe to these celes|tial beings any perfection or any attribute, but what can be found in the present world.

HENCE all the fruitless industry to account for the ill appearances of nature, and save the honour of the gods; while we must acknowlege the reality of that evil and disorder, with which the world so much a|bounds. The obstinate and intractable qualities of matter, we are told, or the observance of general laws; or some such reason, is the sole cause, which controlled the power and benevolence of JUPITER, and obliged him to create mankind and every sensible creature so imperfect and so unhappy. These attributes, then,

are, it seems, beforehand, taken for granted, in their greatest latitude. And upon that supposition, I own, that such conjectures may, perhaps, be admitted as plausible solutions of the ill phaenomena▪ But still I ask; Why take these attributes for granted, or why ascribe to the cause any qualities but what actually ap|pear in the effect? Why torture your brain to justify the course of nature upon suppositions, which, for aught you know, may be intirely imaginary, and of which there are to be found no traces in the course of nature?

THE religious hypothesis, therefore, must be consi|dered only as a particular method of accounting for the visible phaenomena of the universe: But no just reasoner will ever presume to infer from it any single fact, and alter or add to the phaenomena, in any single particular. If you think, that the appearances of things prove such causes, 'tis allowable for you to draw an inference concerning the existence of these causes. In such complicated and sublime subjects, every one should be indulged in the liberty of conjecture and ar|gument. But here you ought to rest. If you come backward, and arguing from your inferred causes, conclude, that any other fact has existed, or will exist, display of particular attributes; I must admonish you, that you have departed from the method of reason|ing, attached to the present subject, and must certainly

have added something to the attributes of the cause, beyond what appears in the effect; otherwise you could never, with tolerable sense or propriety, add any thing to the effect, in order to render it more worthy of the cause.

WHERE, then, is the odiousness of that doctrine, which I teach in my school, or rather, which I exa|mine in my gardens? Or what do you find in this whole question, wherein the security of good morals, or the peace and order of society is in the least con|cerned?

I DENY a providence, you say, and supreme go|vernour of the world, who guides the course of e|vents, and punishes the vicious with infamy and dis|appointment, and rewards the virtuous with honour and success, in all their undertakings. But surely; I deny not the course itself of events, which lies open to every one's inquiry and examination. I acknow|lege, that, in the present order of things, virtue is attended with more peace of mind than vice; and meets with a more favourable reception from the world. I am sensible, that, according to the past ex|perience of mankind, friendship is the chief joy of human life, and moderation the only source of tran|quillity and happiness. I never balance between the virtuous and the vicious course of life; but am sen|sible, that, to a well disposed mind, every advantage

is on the side of the former. And what can you say more, allowing all your suppositions and reasonings? You tell me, indeed, that this disposition of things proceeds from intelligence and design. But whatever it proceeds from, the disposition itself, on which de|pends our happiness or misery, and consequently our conduct and deportment in life, is still the same. 'Tis still open for me, as well as you, to regulate my be|haviour, by my experience of past events. And if you affirm, that, while a divine providence is allowed, and a supreme distributive justice in the universe, I ought to expect some more particular reward of the good, and punishment of the bad, beyond the ordi|nary course of events; I here find the same fallacy, which I have before endeavoured to detect. You per|sist in imagining, that, if we grant that divine exis|tence, for which you so earnestly contend, you may safely infer consequences from it, and add something to the experienced order of nature, by arguing from the attributes which you ascribe to your gods. You seem not to remember, that all your reasonings on this subject can only be drawn from effects to causes; and that every argument, deduced from causes to ef|fects, must of necessity be a gross sophism; since it is impossible for you to know any thing of the cause, but what you have, antecedently, not inferred, but dis|covered to the full, in the effect.

BUT what must a philosopher judge of those vain reasoners, who, instead of regarding the present scene of things as the sole object of their contemplation, so far reverse the whole course of nature, as to render this life merely a passage to something farther; a porch, which leads to a greater, and vastly different building; a prologue, which serves only to introduce the piece, and give it more grace and propriety? Whence, do you think, can such philosophers derive their idea of the gods? From their own conceit and imagination surely. For if they derived it from the present phaenomena, it would never point to any thing farther, but must be exactly adjusted to them. That the divinity may possibly possess attributes, which we have never seen exerted; may be governed by prin|ciples of action, which we cannot discover to be sa|tisfied: All this will freely be allowed. But still this is mere possibility and hypothesis. We never can have reason to infer any attributes, or any principles of ac|tion in him, but so far as we know them to have been exerted and satisfied.

Are there any marks of a distributive justice in the world? If you answer in the affirmative, I conclude, that, since justice here exerts itself, it is satisfied. If you reply in the negative, I conclude, that you have then no reason to ascribe justice to the gods. If you hold a medium between affirmation and negation, by saying, that the justice of the gods, at present, exerts

itself in part, but not in its full extent; I answer, that you have no reason to give it any particular extent, but only so far as you see it, at present, exert itself.

THUS I bring the dispute, O ATHENIANS, to a short issue with my antagonists. The course of nature lies open to my contemplation as well as theirs. The experienced train of events is the great standard by which we all regulate our conduct. Nothing else can be appealed to in the field, or in the senate. Nothing else ought ever to be heard of in the school, or in the closet. In vain would our limited understandings break thro' those boundaries, which are too narrow for our fond imaginations. While we argue from the course of nature, and infer a particular intelligent cause, which first bestowed, and still preserves order in the universe, we embrace a principle which is both uncertain and useless. 'Tis uncertain; because the subject lies intirely beyond the reach of human expe|rience. 'Tis useless; because our knowlege of this cause being derived intirely from the course of na|ture, we can never, according to the rules of just rea|soning, return back from the cause with any new in|ferences, or making additions to the common and experienced course of nature, establish any new princi|ples of conduct and behaviour.

I OBSERVE (says I, finding he had finished his ha|rangue) that you neglect not the artifice of the dema|gogues

of old; and as you was pleased to make me stand for the people, you insinuate yourself into my favour, by embracing those principles, to which, you know, I have always expressed a particular attach|ment. But allowing you to make experience (as in|deed I think you ought) the only standard of our judg|ment concerning this, and all other questions of fact; I doubt not but, from the very same experience, to which you appeal, it may be possible to refute this reasoning, which you have put into the mouth of EPICURUS. If you saw, for instance, a half-finished building surrounded with heaps of brick and stone and mortar, and all the instruments of masonry; could you not infer from the effect, that it was a work of design and contrivance? And could you not return again, from this inferred cause, to infer new additions to the effect, and conclude, that the building would soon be finished, and receive all the farther improve|ments, which art could bestow upon it? If you saw upon the sea-shore the print of one human foot, you would conclude, that a man had passed that way, and that he had also left the traces of the other foot, tho' effaced by the rolling of the sands or inundation of the waters. Why then do you refuse to admit the same method of reasoning with regard to the order of na|ture? Consider the world and the present life only as an imperfect building, from which you can infer a superior intelligence; and arguing from that superior intelligence, which can have nothing imperfect; why

may you not infer a more finished scheme or plan, which will receive its completion in some distant pe|riod of space or time? Are not these methods of rea|soning exactly parallel? And under what pretext can you embrace the one, while you reject the other?

THE infinite difference of the subjects, replied he, is a sufficient foundation for this difference in my con|clusions. In works of human art and contrivance, 'tis allowable to advance from the effect to the cause, and returning back from the cause, form new inferences concerning the effect, and examine the alterations which it has probably undergone, or may still under|go. But what is the foundation of this method of reasoning? Plainly this; that man is a being, whom we know by experience, whose motives and designs we are acquainted with, and whose projects and incli|nations have a certain connexion and coherence, ac|cording to the laws which nature has established for the government of such a creature. When, there|fore, we find, that any work has proceeded from the skill and industry of man; as we are otherwise ac|quainted with the nature of the animal, we can draw a hundred inferences concerning what may be expected from him; and these inferences will all be founded on experience and observation. But did we know man only from the single work or production which we ex|amine, it were impossible for us to argue in this man|ner; because our knowlege of all the qualities, which

we ascribe to him, being in that case derived from the production, 'tis impossible they could point to any thing farther, or be the foundation of any new infer|ences. The print of a foot in the sand can only prove, when considered alone, that there was some figure adapted to it, by which it was produced: But the print of a human foot proves likewise, from our other experience, that there was probably another foot, which also left its impression, tho' effaced by time or other accide••••s. Here we mount from the ef|fect to the cause, and descending again from the cause, infer alterations in the effect; but this is not a continuation of the same simple chain of reasoning. We comprehend in this case a hundred other expe|riences and observations, concerning the usual figure and members of that species of animal, without which this method of argument must be considered as falla|cious and sophistical.

THE case is not the same with our reasonings from the works of nature. The Deity is known to us only by his productions, and is a single being in the uni|verse, not comprehended under any species or genus, from whose experienced attributes or qualities, we can, by analogy, infer any attribute or quality in him. As the universe shews wisdom and goodness, we infer wisdom and goodness. As it shows a particular degree of these perfections, we infer a particular degree of them, precisely adapted to the effect which we exa|mine.

But farther attributes or farther degrees of the same attributes, we can never be authorised to infer or suppose, by any rules of just reasoning. Now without some such licence of supposition, 'tis impossible for us to argue from the cause, or infer any alteration in the effect, beyond what has immediately fallen under our observation. Greater good produced by this Be|ing must still prove a greater degree of goodness: More impartial distribution of rewards and punish|ments must proceed from a superior regard to justice and equity. Every supposed addition to the works of nature makes an addition to the attributes of the au|thor of nature; and consequently, being intirely un supported by any reason or argument, can never be admitted but as mere conjecture and hypothesis* 1.4.

THE great source of our mistake in this subject, and of the unbounded licence of conjecture, which we in|dulge, is, that we tacitly consider ourselves, as in the place of the Supreme Being, and conclude, that he will, on every occasion, observe the same conduct, which we ourselves, in his situation, would have em|braced as reasonable and eligible. But besides, that the ordinary course of nature may convince us, that almost every thing is regulated by principles and max|ims very different from ours; besides this, I say, it must evidently appear contrary to all rule of analogy to reason, from the intentions and projects of men, to those of a being so different, and so much superior. In human nature, there is a certain experienced cohe|rence of designs and inclinations; so that when, from any facts, we have discovered one intention of any man, it may often be reasonable, from experience, to infer another, and draw a long chain of conclusions con|cerning his past or future conduct. But this method of reasoning never can have place with regard to a

Being, so remote and incomprehensible, who bears much less analogy to any other being in the universe than the sun to a waxen taper, and who discovers him|self only by some faint traces or outlines, beyond which we have no authority to ascribe to him any at|tribute or perfection. What we imagine to be a su|perior perfection may really be a defect. Or were it ever so much a perfection, the ascribing it to the Su|preme Being, where it appears not to have been real|ly exerted, to the full, in his works, favours more of flattery and panegyric, than of just reasoning and sound philosophy. All the philosophy, therefore, in the world, and all the religion, which is nothing but a species of philosophy, will never be able to carry us beyond the usual course of experience, or give us mea|sures of conduct and behaviour different from those which are furnished by reflections on common life. No new fact can ever be inferred from the religious hypothesis; no event foreseen or foretold; no reward or punishment expected or dreaded, beyond what is already known by practice and observation. So that my apology for EPICURUS will still appear solid and satisfactory; nor have the political interest of society any connexion with the philosophical disputes con|cerning metaphysics and religion.

THERE is still one circumstance, replied I, which you seem to have overlooked. I ho' I should allow your premises, I must still deny your conclusion. You

conclude, that religious doctrines and reasonings can have no influence on life, because they ought to have no influence; never considering, that men reason not in the same manner you do, but draw many conse|quences from the belief of a divine existence, and sup|pose that the Deity will inflict punishments on vice, and bestow rewards on virtue, beyond what appear in the ordinary course of nature. Whether this reason|ing of their be just or not, is no matter. Its influ|ence on their life and conduct must still be the same. And those, who attempt to disabuse them of such pre|judices, may, for aught I know, be good reasoners, but I cannot allow them to be good citizens and poli|ticians; since they free men from one restraint upon their passions, and make the infringement of the laws of society, in one respect, more easy and secure.

AFTER all, I may, perhaps, agree to your general conclusion in favour of liberty, tho' upon different pre|mises from those, on which you endeavour to found it. I think that the state ought to tolerate every principle of philosophy; nor is there an instance that any go|vernment has suffered in its political interests by such indulgence. There is no enthusiasm among philo|sophers; their doctrines are not very alluring to the people; and no restraint can be put upon their rea|sonings, but what must be of dangerous consquence to the sciences, and even to the state, by paving the way for persecution and oppression in points where the

generality of mankind are more deeply interested and concerned.

BUT there occurs to me (continued I) with regard to your main topic, a difficulty, which I shall just pro|pose to you, without insisting on it; left it lead into reasonings of too nice and delicate a nature. In a word, I much doubt whether it be possible for a cause to be known only by its effect (as you have all along supposed) or to be of so singular and particular a na|ture as to have no parallel and no similarity with any other cause or object, that has ever fallen under out observation. 'Tis only when two species of objects are found to be constantly conjoined, that we can in|fer the one from the other; and were an effect pre|sented, which was intirely singular, and could not be comprehended under any known species, I do not see, that we could form any conjecture or inference at all concerning its cause. If experience and observation and analogy be, indeed, the only guides which we can reasonably follow in inferences of this nature; both the effect and cause must bear a similarity and resem|blance to other effects and causes which we know, and which we have found, in many instances, to be conjoined with each other. I leave it to your own reflections to pursue the consequences of this principle. I shall just observe, that as the antagonists of EPI|CURUS always suppose the universe an effect quite sin|gular and unparalleled; to be the proof of a Deity, a

cause no less singular and unparalleled; your reason|ings, upon that supposition, seem, at least, to merit our attention. There is, I own, some difficulty, how we can ever return from the cause to the effect, and reasoning from our ideas of the former, infer any al|teration on the latter, or any addition to it.

Notes

• * 1.1

  LUCIANI 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• † 1.2

  Id. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• ‡ 1.3

  Id. & Dio.
• * 1.4

  In general, it may, I think, be established as a maxim, that where any cause 〈…〉〈…〉, it must be impossible to infer any 〈…〉〈…〉 since the qualities, which are requisite to produce 〈◊〉〈◊〉 new ef|fects along with the former, must either be different, or supe|rior, or of more extensive operation, than those which simply produced the effect, whence alone the cause is supposed to be known to us. We can never, therefore, have any reason to sup|pose the existence of these qualities. To say that the new effects proceed only from a continuation of the same energy, which is already known from the first effects, will not remove the diffi|culty. For even granting this to be the case, (which can sel|dom be supposed) the very continuation and exertion of a like energy (for 'tis impossible it can be absolutely the same) I say, this exertion of a like energy in a different period of space and time is a very arbitrary supposition, and what there cannot pos|sibly be any traces of in the effects, from which all our know|lege of the cause is originally derived. Let the inferred cause be exactly proportioned (as it should be) to the known effect; and 'tis impossible that it can possess any qualities, from which new or different effects can be inferred.