Three Dialogues Between Hylas and Philonous George Berkeley 1713 Copyright 1996, James Fieser (jfieser@utm.edu). See end note for details on copyright and editing conventions. This text file is based on the 1910 Harvard Classics edition of Berkeley's <Three Dialogues>. Pagenation follows T.E. Jessop's 1949 edition of <Three Dialogues>, in <The Works of George Berkeley>, Vol. 2. This is a working draft; please report errors.[1] * * * * THREE DIALOGUES Between HYLAS AND PHILONOUS The Design of which is Plainly to Demonstrate the Reality and Perfection of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE The Incorporeal Nature of the SOUL And the Immediate Providence of a DEITY In Opposition to SCEPTICS AND ATHEISTS Also to Open a Method for Rendering the Sciences More Easy, Useful, and Compendious {171} THE FIRST DIALOGUE <Philonous>. Good morrow, Hylas: I did not expect to find you abroad so early. <Hylas>. It is indeed something unusual; but my thoughts were so taken up with a subject I was discoursing of last night, that finding I could not sleep, I resolved to rise and take a turn in the garden. <Phil>. It happened well, to let you see what innocent and agreeable pleasures you lose every morning. Can there be a pleasanter time of the day, or a more delightful season of the year? That purple sky, those wild but sweet notes of birds, the fragrant bloom upon the trees and flowers, the gentle influence of the rising sun, these and a thousand nameless beauties of nature inspire the soul with secret transports; its faculties too being at this time fresh and lively, are fit for those meditations, which the solitude of a garden and tranquillity of the morning naturally dispose us to. But I am afraid I interrupt your thoughts: for you seemed very intent on something. <Hyl>. It is true, I was, and shall be obliged to you if you will permit me to go on in the same vein; not that I would by any means deprive myself of your company, for my thoughts always flow more easily in conversation with a friend, than when I am alone: but my request is, that you would suffer me to impart my reflexions to you. <Phil>. With all my heart, it is what I should have requested myself if you had not prevented me. <Hyl>. I was considering the odd fate of those men who have in all ages, through an affectation of being distinguished from the vulgar, or some unaccountable turn of thought, pretended either to believe nothing at all, or to believe the most extravagant things in the world. This however might be borne, if their paradoxes and scepticism did not draw after them some consequences of general disadvantage to mankind. But the mischief lieth {172} here; that when men of less leisure see them who are supposed to have spent their whole time in the pursuits of knowledge professing an entire ignorance of all things, or advancing such notions as are repugnant to plain and commonly received principles, they will be tempted to entertain suspicions concerning the most important truths, which they had hitherto held sacred and unquestionable. <Phil>. I entirely agree with you, as to the ill tendency of the affected doubts of some philosophers, and fantastical conceits of others. I am even so far gone of late in this way of thinking, that I have quitted several of the sublime notions I had got in their schools for vulgar opinions. And I give it you on my word; since this revolt from metaphysical notions to the plain dictates of nature and common sense, I find my understanding strangely enlightened, so that I can now easily comprehend a great many things which before were all mystery and riddle. <Hyl>. I am glad to find there was nothing in the accounts I heard of you. <Phil>. Pray, what were those? <Hyl>. You were represented, in last night's conversation, as one who maintained the most extravagant opinion that ever entered into the mind of man, to wit, that there is no such thing as <material substance> in the world. <Phil>. That there is no such thing as what <philosophers call material substance>, I am seriously persuaded: but, if I were made to see anything absurd or sceptical in this, I should then have the same reason to renounce this that I imagine I have now to reject the contrary opinion. <Hyl>. What I can anything be more fantastical, more repugnant to Common Sense, or a more manifest piece of Scepticism, than to believe there is no such thing as <matter>? <Phil>. Softly, good Hylas. What if it should prove that you, who hold there is, are, by virtue of that opinion, a greater sceptic, and maintain more paradoxes and repugnances to Common Sense, than I who believe no such thing? <Hyl>. You may as soon persuade me, the part is greater than the whole, as that, in order to avoid absurdity and Scepticism, I should ever be obliged to give up my opinion in this point. <Phil>. Well then, are you content to admit that opinion for true, which upon examination shall appear most agreeable to Common Sense, and remote from Scepticism? <Hyl>. With all my heart. Since you are for raising disputes {173} about the plainest things in nature, I am content for once to hear what you have to say. <Phil>. Pray, Hylas, what do you mean by a <sceptic>? <Hyl>. I mean what all men mean -- one that doubts of everything. <Phil>. He then who entertains no doubts concerning some particular point, with regard to that point cannot be thought a sceptic. <Hyl>. I agree with you. <Phil>. Whether doth doubting consist in embracing the affirmative or negative side of a question? <Hyl>. In neither; for whoever understands English cannot but know that <doubting> signifies a suspense between both. <Phil>. He then that denies any point, can no more be said to doubt of it, than he who affirmeth it with the same degree of assurance. <Hyl>. True. <Phil>. And, consequently, for such his denial is no more to be esteemed a sceptic than the other. <Hyl>. I acknowledge it. <Phil>. How cometh it to pass then, Hylas, that you pronounce me <a sceptic>, because I deny what you affirm, to wit, the existence of Matter? Since, for aught you can tell, I am as peremptory in my denial, as you in your affirmation. <Hyl>. Hold, Philonous, I have been a little out in my definition; but every false step a man makes in discourse is not to be insisted on. I said indeed that a <sceptic> was one who doubted of everything; but I should have added, or who denies the reality and truth of things. <Phil>. What things? Do you mean the principles and theorems of sciences? But these you know are universal intellectual notions, and consequently independent of Matter. The denial therefore of this doth not imply the denying them. <Hyl>. I grant it. But are there no other things? What think you of distrusting the senses, of denying the real existence of sensible things, or pretending to know nothing of them. Is not this sufficient to denominate a man a <sceptic>? <Phil>. Shall we therefore examine which of us it is that denies the reality of sensible things, or professes the greatest ignorance of them; since, if I take you rightly, he is to be {174} esteemed the greatest <sceptic>? <Hyl>. That is what I desire. <Phil>. What mean you by Sensible Things? <Hyl>. Those things which are perceived by the senses. Can you imagine that I mean anything else? <Phil>. Pardon me, Hylas, if I am desirous clearly to apprehend your notions, since this may much shorten our inquiry. Suffer me then to ask you this farther question. Are those things only perceived by the senses which are perceived immediately? Or, may those things properly be said to be <sensible> which are perceived mediately, or not without the intervention of others? <Hyl>. I do not sufficiently understand you. <Phil>. In reading a book, what I immediately perceive are the letters; but mediately, or by means of these, are suggested to my mind the notions of God, virtue, truth, &c. Now, that the letters are truly sensible things, or perceived by sense, there is no doubt: but I would know whether you take the things suggested by them to be so too. <Hyl>. No, certainly: it were absurd to think <God> or <virtue> sensible things; though they may be signified and suggested to the mind by sensible marks, with which they have an arbitrary connexion. <Phil>. It seems then, that by <sensible things> you mean those only which can be perceived <immediately> by sense? <Hyl>. Right. <Phil>. Doth i...
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