But It Is A Miracle That A

If Refined Sense, And Exalted Sense, Be Not So Useful As Common Sense, Their Rarity, Their Novelty, And The Nobleness Of Their Objects, Make Some Compensation, And Render Them The Admiration Of Mankind.

Philosophy Would Render Us Entirely Pyrrhonian, Were Not Nature Too Strong For It.

Everything Is Sold To Skill And Labor; And Where Nature Furnishes The Materials, They Are Still Rude And Unfinished, Till Industry, Ever Active And Intelligent, Refines Them From Their Brute State, And Fits Them For Human Use And Convenience.

And Indeed Nothing But The Most Determined Scepticism, Along With A Great Degree Of Indolence, Can Justify This Aversion To Metaphysics. For If Truth Be At All Within The Reach Of Human Capacity, It Is Certain It Must Lie Very Deep And Abstruse: And To Hope We Shall Arrive At It Without Pains, While The Greatest Geniuses Have Failed With The Utmost Pains, Must Certainly Be Esteemed Sufficiently Vain And Presumptuous. I Pretend To No Such Advantage In The Philosophy I Am Going To Unfold, And Would Esteem It A Strong Presumption Against It, Were It So Very Easy And Obvious.

Truth Is Disputable, Not Human Taste.