however, one species of philosophy which seems little liable to this
inconvenience, and that because it strikes in with no disorderly passion
of the human mind, nor can mingle itself with any natural affection or
propensity; and that is the Academic or Sceptical philosophy. The
academics always talk of doubt and suspense of judgement, of danger in
hasty determinations, of confining to very narrow bounds the enquiries
of the understanding, and of renouncing all speculations which lie not
within the limits of common life and practice. Nothing, therefore, can
be more contrary than such a philosophy to the supine indolence of the
mind, its rash arrogance, its lofty pretensions, and its superstitious
credulity. Every passion is mortified by it, except the love of truth;
and that passion never is, nor can be, carried to too high a degree. It
is surprising, therefore, that this philosophy, which, in almost every
instance, must be harmless and innocent, should be the subject of so
much groundless reproach and obloquy. But, perhaps, the very
circumstance which renders it so innocent is what chiefly exposes it to
the public hatred and resentment. By flattering no irregular passion, it
gains few partizans: By opposing so many vices and follies, it raises to
itself abundance of enemies, who stigmatize it as libertine profane, and
irreligious.

Nor need we fear that this philosophy, while it endeavours to limit our
enquiries to common life, should ever undermine the reasonings of common
life, and carry its doubts so far as to destroy all action, as well as
speculation. Nature will always maintain her rights, and prevail in the
end over any abstract reasoning whatsoever. Though we should conclude,
for instance, as in the foregoing section, that, in all reasonings from
experience, there is a step taken by the mind which is not supported by
any argument or process of the understanding; there is no danger that
these reasonings, on which almost all knowledge depends, will ever be