to make many ignorant people embrace the profession,
as an innocent, if not even a laudable one; and puzzle
people of some degree of knowledge, to answer me point
by point. I have seen a book, entitled ‘Quidlibet
ex Quolibet’, or the art of making anything out
of anything; which is not so difficult as it would
seem, if once one quits certain plain truths, obvious
in gross to every understanding, in order to run after
the ingenious refinements of warm imaginations and
speculative reasonings. Doctor Berkeley, Bishop
of Cloyne, a very worthy, ingenious, and learned man,
has written a book, to prove that there is no such
thing as matter, and that nothing exists but in idea:
that you and I only fancy ourselves eating, drinking,
and sleeping; you at Leipsig, and I at London:
that we think we have flesh and blood, legs, arms,
etc., but that we are only spirit. His arguments
are, strictly speaking, unanswerable; but yet I am
so far from being convinced by them, that I am determined
to go on to eat and drink, and walk and ride, in order
to keep that
matter, which I so mistakenly imagine
my body at present to consist of, in as good plight
as possible. Common sense (which, in truth, very
uncommon) is the best sense I know of: abide
by it, it will counsel you best. Read and hear,
for your amusement, ingenious systems, nice questions
subtilly agitated, with all the refinements that warm
imaginations suggest; but consider them only as exercitations
for the mind, and turn always to settle with common
sense.
I stumbled, the other day, at a bookseller’s,
upon “Comte Gabalis,” in two very little
volumes, which I had formerly read. I read it
over again, and with fresh astonishment. Most
of the extravagances are taken from the Jewish Rabbins,
who broached those wild notions, and delivered them
in the unintelligible jargon which the Caballists
and Rosicrucians deal in to this day. Their number
is, I believe, much lessened, but there are still
some; and I myself have known two; who studied and
firmly believed in that mystical nonsense. What
extravagancy is not man capable of entertaining, when
once his shackled reason is led in triumph by fancy
and prejudice! The ancient alchemists give very
much into this stuff, by which they thought they should
discover the philosopher’s stone; and some of
the most celebrated empirics employed it in the pursuit
of the universal medicine. Paracelsus, a bold
empiric and wild Caballist, asserted that he had discovered
it, and called it his ‘Alkahest’.
Why or wherefore, God knows; only that those madmen
call nothing by an intelligible name. You may
easily get this book from The Hague: read it,
for it will both divert and astonish you, and at the
same time teach you ‘nil admirari’; a
very necessary lesson.