When I Hear That A Man Is

In Our Reasonings Concerning Matter Of Fact, There Are All Imaginable Degrees Of Assurance, From The Highest Certainty To The Lowest Species Of Moral Evidence. A Wise Man, Therefore, Proportions His Belief To The Evidence.

It Affords A Violent Prejudice Against Almost Every Science, That No Prudent Man, However Sure Of His Principles, Dares Prophesy Concerning Any Event, Or Foretell The Remote Consequences Of Things.

There Is Nothing, In Itself, Valuable Or Despicable, Desirable Or Hateful, Beautiful Or Deformed; But That These Attributes Arise From The Particular Constitution And Fabric Of Human Sentiment And Affection.

The Identity That We Ascribe To Things Is Only A Fictitious One, Established By The Mind, Not A Peculiar Nature Belonging To What We’re Talking About.

The Conduct Of A Man, Who Studies Philosophy In This Careless Manner, Is More Truly Sceptical Than That Of Any One, Who Feeling Inhimself An Inclination To It, Is Yet So Over-whelm'd With Doubts And Scruples, As Totally To Reject It. A True Sceptic Will Be Diffident Of His Philosophical Doubts, As Well As Of His Philosophical Conviction; And Will Never Refuse Any Innocent Satisfaction, Which Offers Itself, Upon Account Of Either Of Them.