Whose Fault Is It If Poor Ireland

To Me It Seems That Liberty And Virtue Were Made For Each Other. If Any Man Wish To Enslave His Country, Nothing Is A Fitter Preparative Than Vice; And Nothing Leads To Vice So Surely As Irreligion.

But, Say You, Surely There Is Nothing Easier Than For Me To Imagine Trees, For Instance, In A Park [. . .] And Nobody By To Perceive Them. [...] The Objects Of Sense Exist Only When They Are Perceived; The Trees Therefore Are In The Garden [. . .] No Longer Than While There Is Somebody By To Perceive Them.

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?

So Long As I Confine My Thoughts To My Own Ideas Divested Of Words, I Do Not See How I Can Be Easily Mistaken.

If What You Mean By The Word "matter" Be Only The Unknown Support Of Unknown Qualities, It Is No Matter Whether There Is Such A Thing Or No, Since It No Way Concerns Us; And I Do Not See The Advantage There Is In Disputing About What We Know Not What, And We Know Not Why.