Ideas are continually arifing; Whether (as Seems) Spontaneously, or Suggested to us by our Senfes, or by what means foever; These pass away to give place to Others, fo that the Scene Within is eternally shifting from what it was. That Great Set of Ideas which is compos'd of all those now poffefs'd by all Mankind is already chang'd, and whilft I am writing thisLine is almoft intirely different from what it was when the Thought first came into my own Mind; Even this Thought, tho' it appears still to be Right, and perhaps Always will do fo whenever it returns, if it Ever does, yet there is a Change whilst I am forming every Letter; 'tis Stronger, 'tis weaker, it disappears, others arife, it returns; Things have a different View every Moment. Now as when one would compose a certain Tinct of Colour (to illuftrate what I am faying by Some thing in my own Way) the fame Colours, and Exactly the Same Quantities of each must be employ'd; the least Particle more, or lefs, makes it impoffible it fhould be the Same: So to produce Exactly the Same Idea as I have had heretofore: Or the Same in My Mind as You are poffefs'd of, the very fame Circumstances must concur, which being impoffible, there must be a Difference, tho' (as in the former Cafe) 'tis fometimes fo little as to be imperceptible; but still that there is fuch Difference in Reality is evident to a Demonftration. Whether that Incomprehenfible Mind that prefides over every the Smalleft Particle of Matter throughout the Universe, does alike Produce, Direct, and Govern every one of that great, and eternally changing Set of Ideas from time to time poffeffed by every Intelliegnt Being; and confequently their Cau fes fes ad infinitum: Whether we have any greater Power over our Minds than over our Bodies, and can Add to, or Alter our Ideas any more than we can raise our Selves a Cubit higher, or Change the Colour of a Single hair; in fhort whether our Wills are Free is a Noble Enquiry, because the Effect of it may be a most Beautiful, Simple, and Unexceptionable Syftem of things. But as This would be to go out of that Train of Thought I am upon, and which is my prefent Affair, I chuse rather to go on to observe, That However Different we are from Our Selves; Or One Man is from Another, Every Man is an Epitome of the Whole Species: The Wifest amongst us is a Fool in Some things, as the Lowest amongst Men has fome Juft Notions, and therein is as Wife as Socrates; So that every Man resembles a Statue made to stand against a Wall, or in a Nich, On on One Side 'tis a Plato, an Apollo, a Demofthenes; on the Other 'tis a Rough, Unformed Piece of Stone. And notwithstanding this Vast Variety of Sentiments amongst Men; notwithstanding Truth is always the Same, and is a Single Point, tho' Error is Infinite; Every Man (as he must Neceffarily) thinks Himself in the Right, and that all that differ from Him are Miftaken; and accordingly Every Man is contented with Himself, and Laughs at, or Pities all the reft. I know not who has faid it, but he has given a fine Image of Mankind in This Light. So one Fool lolls his tongue out at another, Thus (to fumm up what I have been faying) Our Knowledge ari fing from Imperfect Evidence, Imperfectly convey'd, must be Imper fect, fect, and mix'd with Doubt, and Error, and that in all Degrees; And Every Man differs from Himfelf in These particulars, and from Every Other Man; and the Scene is Eternally Changing But Every Man is partly a Wife Man, and partly a Fool; However we all fee the Fool's Cap on Every Body's head but our Own. The Reflection we fhall naturally make upon the View of the State of Humane Understanding Hither to is but a Melancholy one; Efpecially when 'tis remember'd that (being fuppos'd Free, and therefore Accountable for all our Thoughts, and Actions) among the Other Uncertainties we are in, 'tis made a Question Whether, and How far an Erroneous Judgment will excuse our deviations from what is Good Abfolutely confider'd; 'Tis not my business to decide in this Nice Cafe, only for my felf which |