Now I Am Known How A Street Kid Turned Foster

Dad Found Acceptance And True Worth Peter

Mutabazi Mark Tabb download

https://ebookbell.com/product/now-i-am-known-how-a-street-kid-
turned-foster-dad-found-acceptance-and-true-worth-peter-mutabazi-
mark-tabb-48867292

Explore and download more ebooks at ebookbell.com

Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be
interested in. You can click the link to download.

Now I Am Known Peter Mutabazi

https://ebookbell.com/product/now-i-am-known-peter-mutabazi-185471566

Now That I Am Gone A Memoir Beyond Recall Allan Macdonell

https://ebookbell.com/product/now-that-i-am-gone-a-memoir-beyond-
recall-allan-macdonell-48754772

Now That I Have Cancer I Am Whole Reflections On Life And Healing For
Cancer Patients And Those Who Love Them John Robert Mcfarland

https://ebookbell.com/product/now-that-i-have-cancer-i-am-whole-
reflections-on-life-and-healing-for-cancer-patients-and-those-who-
love-them-john-robert-mcfarland-48931290

The Way I Am Now Amber Smith

https://ebookbell.com/product/the-way-i-am-now-amber-smith-54225280
Where Am I Now Mara Wilson

https://ebookbell.com/product/where-am-i-now-mara-wilson-37534456

Amber Smith The Way I Am Now

https://ebookbell.com/product/amber-smith-the-way-i-am-now-54424934

Amber Smith The Way I Am Now

https://ebookbell.com/product/amber-smith-the-way-i-am-now-54424866

The Way I Am Now Amber Smith

https://ebookbell.com/product/the-way-i-am-now-amber-smith-57955166

Where Am I Now True Stories Of Girldhood And Accidental Fame Mara

Wilson

https://ebookbell.com/product/where-am-i-now-true-stories-of-
girldhood-and-accidental-fame-mara-wilson-157056438
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
consequently extends not beyond the appearance, and the
perception or object really continues to exist, even when absent
from us: our sensible perceptions have, therefore, a continued and
uninterrupted existence. But as a little reflection destroys this
conclusion, that our perceptions have a continued existence, by
showing that they have a dependent one, 'twould naturally be
expected, that we must altogether reject the opinion, that there is
such a thing in nature as a continued existence, which is preserved
even when it no longer appears to the senses. The case, however, is
otherwise. Philosophers are so far from rejecting the opinion of a
continued existence upon rejecting that of the independence and
continuance of our sensible perceptions, that though all sects agree
in the latter sentiment, the former, which is in a manner its
necessary consequence, has been peculiar to a few extravagant
sceptics; who, after all, maintained that opinion in words only, and
were never able to bring themselves sincerely to believe it.
There is a great difference betwixt such opinions as we form after a
calm and profound reflection, and such as we embrace by a kind of
instinct or natural impulse, on account of their suitableness and
conformity to the mind. If these opinions become contrary, 'tis not
difficult to foresee which of them will have the advantage. As long as
our attention is bent upon the subject, the philosophical and studied
principle may prevail; but the moment we relax our thoughts, nature
will display herself, and draw us back to our former opinion. Nay she
has sometimes such an influence, that she can stop our progress,
even in the midst of our most profound reflections, and keep us from
running on with all the consequences of any philosophical opinion.
Thus, though we clearly perceive the dependence and interruption of
our perceptions, we stop short in our career, and never upon that
account reject the notion of an independent and continued
existence. That opinion has taken such deep root in the imagination,
that 'tis impossible ever to eradicate it, nor will any strained
metaphysical conviction of the dependence of our perceptions be
sufficient for that purpose.
But though our natural and obvious principles here prevail above our
studied reflections, 'tis certain there must be some struggle and
opposition in the case; at least so long as these reflections retain
any force or vivacity. In order to set ourselves at ease in this
particular, we contrive a new hypothesis, which seems to
comprehend both these principles of reason and imagination. This
hypothesis is the philosophical one of the double existence of
perceptions and objects; which pleases our reason, in allowing that
our dependent perceptions are interrupted and different, and at the
same time is agreeable to the imagination, in attributing a continued
existence to something else, which we call objects. This
philosophical system, therefore, is the monstrous offspring of two
principles, which are contrary to each other, which are both at once
embraced by the mind, and which are unable mutually to destroy
each other. The imagination tells us, that our resembling perceptions
have a continued and uninterrupted existence, and are not
annihilated by their absence. Reflection tells us, that even our
resembling perceptions are interrupted in their existence, and
different from each other. The contradiction betwixt these opinions
we elude by a new fiction, which is conformable to the hypotheses
both of reflection and fancy, by ascribing these contrary qualities to
different existences; the interruption to perceptions, and the
continuance to objects. Nature is obstinate, and will not quit the
field, however strongly attacked by reason; and at the same time
reason is so clear in the point, that there is no possibility of
disguising her. Not being able to reconcile these two enemies, we
endeavour to set ourselves at ease as much as possible, by
successively granting to each whatever it demands, and by feigning
a double existence, where each may find something that has all the
conditions it desires. Were we fully convinced that our resembling
perceptions are continued, and identical, and independent, we
should never run into this opinion of a double existence; since we
should find satisfaction in our first supposition, and would not look
beyond. Again, were we fully convinced that our perceptions are
dependent, and interrupted, and different, we should be as little
inclined to embrace the opinion of a double existence; since in that
case we should clearly perceive the error of our first supposition of a
continued existence, and would never regard it any farther. 'Tis
therefore from the intermediate situation of the mind that this
opinion arises, and from such an adherence to these two contrary
principles, as makes us seek some pretext to justify our receiving
both; which happily at last is found in the system of a double
existence.
Another advantage of this philosophical system is its similarity to the
vulgar one, by which means we can humour our reason for a
moment, when it becomes troublesome and solicitous; and yet upon
its least negligence or inattention, can easily return to our vulgar
and natural notions. Accordingly we find, that philosophers neglect
not this advantage, but, immediately upon leaving their closets,
mingle with the rest of mankind in those exploded opinions, that our
perceptions are our only objects, and continue identically and
uninterruptedly the same in all their interrupted appearances.
There are other particulars of this system, wherein we may remark
its dependence on the fancy, in a very conspicuous manner. Of
these, I shall observe the two following. First, we suppose external
objects to resemble internal perceptions. I have already shown, that
the relation of cause and effect can never afford us any just
conclusion from the existence or qualities of our perceptions to the
existence of external continued objects: and I shall farther add, that
even though they could afford such a conclusion, we should never
have any reason to infer that our objects resemble our perceptions.
That opinion, therefore, is derived from nothing but the quality of
the fancy above explained, that it borrows all its ideas from some
precedent perception. We never can conceive any thing but
perceptions, and therefore must make every thing resemble them.
Secondly, as we suppose our objects in general to resemble our
perceptions, so we take it for granted, that every particular object
resembles that perception which it causes. The relation of cause and
effect determines us to join the other of resemblance; and the ideas
of these existences being already united together in the fancy by the
former relation, we naturally add the latter to complete the union.
We have a strong propensity to complete every union by joining new
relations to those which we have before observed betwixt any ideas,
as we shall have occasion to observe presently.[8]
Having thus given an account of all the systems, both popular and
philosophical, with regard to external existences, I cannot forbear
giving vent to a certain sentiment which arises upon reviewing those
systems. I begun this subject with premising, that we ought to have
an implicit faith in our senses, and that this would be the conclusion
I should draw from the whole of my reasoning. But to be ingenuous,
I feel myself at present of a quite contrary sentiment, and am more
inclined to repose no faith at all in my senses, or rather imagination,
than to place in it such an implicit confidence. I cannot conceive how
such trivial qualities of the fancy, conducted by such false
suppositions, can ever lead to any solid and rational system. They
are the coherence and constancy of our perceptions, which produce
the opinion of their continued existence; though these qualities of
perceptions have no perceivable connexion with such an existence.
The constancy of our perceptions has the most considerable effect,
and yet is attended with the greatest difficulties. 'Tis a gross illusion
to suppose, that our resembling perceptions are numerically the
same; and 'tis this illusion which leads us into the opinion, that these
perceptions are uninterrupted, and are still existent, even when they
are not present to the senses. This is the case with our popular
system. And as to our philosophical one, 'tis liable to the same
difficulties; and is, over and above, loaded with this absurdity, that it
at once denies and establishes the vulgar supposition. Philosophers
deny our resembling perceptions to be identically the same, and
uninterrupted; and yet have so great a propensity to believe them
such, that they arbitrarily invent a new set of perceptions, to which
they attribute these qualities. I say, a new set of perceptions: for we
may well suppose in general, but 'tis impossible for us distinctly to
conceive, objects to be in their nature any thing but exactly the
same with perceptions. What then can we look for from this
confusion of groundless and extraordinary opinions but error and
falsehood? And how can we justify to ourselves any belief we repose
in them?
This sceptical doubt, both with respect to reason and the senses, is
a malady which can never be radically cured, but must return upon
us every moment, however we may chase it away, and sometimes
may seem entirely free from it. 'Tis impossible, upon any system, to
defend either our understanding or senses; and we but expose them
farther when we endeavour to justify them in that manner. As the
sceptical doubt arises naturally from a profound and intense
reflection on those subjects, it always increases the farther we carry
our reflections, whether in opposition or conformity to it.
Carelessness and inattention alone can afford us any remedy. For
this reason I rely entirely upon them; and take it for granted,
whatever may be the reader's opinion at this present moment, that
an hour hence he will be persuaded there is both an external and
internal world; and, going upon that supposition, I intend to
examine some general systems, both ancient and modern, which
have been proposed of both, before I proceed to a more particular
inquiry concerning our impressions. This will not, perhaps, in the
end, be found foreign to our present purpose.

[1] Part II. Sect. 6.

[2] Sect. 5.
[3] Part II. Sect. 4.
[4] Part II. Sect. 5.
[5] Part. II. Sect. 5.
[6] This reasoning, it must be confessed, is somewhat abstruse,
and difficult to be comprehended; but it is remarkable, that this
very difficulty may be converted into a proof of the reasoning. We
may observe, that there are two relations, and both of them
resemblances, which contribute to our mistaking the succession of
our interrupted perceptions for an identical object. The first is, the
resemblance of the perceptions: the second is, the resemblance
which the act of the mind in surveying a succession of resembling
objects, bears to that in surveying an identical object. Now these
 resemblances we are apt to confound with each other; and 'tis
natural we should, according to this very reasoning. But let us
keep them distinct, and we shall find no difficulty in conceiving
the precedent argument.
[7] Sect. 6.
[8] Sect. 5.

SECTION III.

OF THE ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY.

Several moralists have recommended it as an excellent method of

becoming acquainted with our own hearts, and knowing our
progress in virtue, to recollect our dreams in a morning, and
examine them with the same rigour that we would our most serious
and most deliberate actions. Our character is the same throughout,
say they, and appears best where artifice, fear and policy, have no
place, and men can neither be hypocrites with themselves nor
others. The generosity or baseness of our temper, our meekness or
cruelty, our courage or pusillanimity, influence the fictions of the
imagination with the most unbounded liberty, and discover
themselves in the most glaring colours. In like manner, I am
persuaded, there might be several useful discoveries made from a
criticism of the fictions of the ancient philosophy concerning
substances, and substantial forms, and accidents, and occult
qualities, which, however unreasonable and capricious, have a very
intimate connexion with the principles of human nature.
'Tis confessed by the most judicious philosophers, that our ideas of
bodies are nothing but collections formed by the mind of the ideas
of the several distinct sensible qualities, of which objects are
composed, and which we find to have a constant union with each
other. But however these qualities may in themselves be entirely
distinct, 'tis certain we commonly regard the compound, which they
form, as one thing, and as continuing the same under very
considerable alterations. The acknowledged composition is evidently
contrary to this supposed simplicity, and the variation to the identity.
It may therefore be worth while to consider the causes, which make
us almost universally fall into such evident contradictions, as well as
the means by which we endeavour to conceal them.
'Tis evident, that as the ideas of the several distinct successive
qualities of objects are united together by a very close relation, the
mind, in looking along the succession, must be carried from one part
of it to another by an easy transition, and will no more perceive the
change, than if it contemplated the same unchangeable object. This
easy transition is the effect, or rather essence of relation; and as the
imagination readily takes one idea for another, where their influence
on the mind is similar; hence it proceeds, that any such succession
of related qualities is readily considered as one continued object,
existing without any variation. The smooth and uninterrupted
progress of the thought, being alike in both cases, readily deceives
the mind, and makes us ascribe an identity to the changeable
succession of connected qualities.
But when we alter our method of considering the succession, and,
instead of tracing it gradually through the successive points of time,
survey at once any two distinct periods of its duration, and compare
the different conditions of the successive qualities; in that case the
variations, which were insensible when they arose gradually, do now
appear of consequence, and seem entirely to destroy the identity. By
this means there arises a kind of contrariety in our method of
thinking, from the different points of view, in which we survey the
object, and from the nearness or remoteness of those instants of
time, which we compare together. When we gradually follow an
object in its successive changes, the smooth progress of the thought
makes us ascribe an identity to the succession; because 'tis by a
similar act of the mind we consider an unchangeable object. When
we compare its situation after a considerable change the progress of
the thought is broke; and consequently we are presented with the
idea of diversity; in order to reconcile which contradictions the
imagination is apt to feign something unknown and invisible, which it
supposes to continue the same under all these variations; and this
unintelligible something it calls a substance, or original and first
matter.
We entertain a like notion with regard to the simplicity of
substances, and from like causes. Suppose an object perfectly simple
and indivisible to be presented, along with another object, whose
co-existent parts are connected together by a strong relation, 'tis
evident the actions of the mind, in considering these two objects,
are not very different. The imagination conceives the simple object
at once, with facility, by a single effort of thought, without change or
variation. The connexion of parts in the compound object has almost
the same effect, and so unites the object within itself, that the fancy
feels not the transition in passing from one part to another. Hence
the colour, taste, figure, solidity, and other qualities, combined in a
peach or melon, are conceived to form one thing; and that on
account of their close relation, which makes them affect the thought
in the same manner, as if perfectly uncompounded. But the mind
rests not here. Whenever it views the object in another light, it finds
that all these qualities are different, and distinguishable, and
separable from each other; which view of things being destructive of
its primary and more natural notions, obliges the imagination to
feign an unknown something, or original substance and matter, as a
principle of union or cohesion among these qualities, and as what
may give the compound object a title to be called one thing,
notwithstanding its diversity and composition.
The Peripatetic philosophy asserts the original matter to be perfectly
homogeneous in all bodies, and considers fire, water, earth, and air,
as of the very same substance, on account of their gradual
revolutions and changes into each other. At the same time it assigns
to each of these species of objects a distinct substantial form, which
it supposes to be the source of all those different qualities they
possess, and to be a new foundation of simplicity and identity to
each particular species. All depends on our manner of viewing the
objects. When we look along the insensible changes of bodies, we
suppose all of them to be of the same substance or essence. When
we consider their sensible differences, we attribute to each of them
a substantial and essential difference. And in order to indulge
ourselves in both these ways of considering our objects, we suppose
all bodies to have at once a substance and a substantial form.
The notion of accidents is an unavoidable consequence of this
method of thinking with regard to substances and substantial forms;
nor can we forbear looking upon colours, sounds, tastes, figures,
and other properties of bodies, as existences, which cannot subsist
apart, but require a subject of inhesion to sustain and support them.
For having never discovered any of these sensible qualities, where,
for the reasons above mentioned, we did not likewise fancy a
substance to exist; the same habit, which makes us infer a
connexion betwixt cause and effect, makes us here infer a
dependence of every quality on the unknown substance. The custom
of imagining a dependence has the same effect as the custom of
observing it would have. This conceit, however, is no more
reasonable than any of the foregoing. Every quality being a distinct
thing from another, may be conceived to exist apart, and may exist
apart not only from every other quality, but from that unintelligible
chimera of a substance.
But these philosophers carry their fictions still farther in their
sentiments concerning occult qualities, and both suppose a
substance supporting, which they do not understand, and an
accident supported, of which they have as imperfect an idea. The
whole system, therefore, is entirely incomprehensible, and yet is
derived from principles as natural as any of these above explained.
In considering this subject, we may observe a gradation of three
opinions that rise above each other, according as the persons who
form them acquire new degrees of reason and knowledge. These
opinions are that of the vulgar, that of a false philosophy, and that of
the true; where we shall find upon inquiry, that the true philosophy
approaches nearer to the sentiments of the vulgar than to those of a
mistaken knowledge. 'Tis natural for men, in their common and
careless way of thinking, to imagine they perceive a connexion
betwixt such objects as they have constantly found united together;
and because custom has rendered it difficult to separate the ideas,
they are apt to fancy such a separation to be in itself impossible and
absurd. But philosophers, who abstract from the effects of custom,
and compare the ideas of objects, immediately perceive the
falsehood of these vulgar sentiments, and discover that there is no
known connexion among objects. Every different object appears to
them entirely distinct and separate; and they perceive that 'tis not
from a view of the nature and qualities of objects we infer one from
another, but only when in several instances we observe them to
have been constantly conjoined. But these philosophers, instead of
drawing a just inference from this observation, and concluding, that
we have no idea of power or agency, separate from the mind and
belonging to causes; I say, instead of drawing this conclusion, they
frequently search for the qualities in which this agency consists, and
are displeased with every system which their reason suggests to
them, in order to explain it. They have sufficient force of genius to
free them from the vulgar error, that there is a natural and
perceivable connexion betwixt the several sensible qualities and
actions of matter, but not sufficient to keep them from ever seeking
for this connexion in matter or causes. Had they fallen upon the just
conclusion, they would have returned back to the situation of the
vulgar, and would have regarded all these disquisitions with
indolence and indifference. At present they seem to be in a very
lamentable condition, and such as the poets have given us but a
faint notion of in their descriptions of the punishment of Sisyphus
and Tantalus. For what can be imagined more tormenting than to
seek with eagerness what for ever flies us, and seek for it in a place
where 'tis impossible it can ever exist?
But as Nature seems to have observed a kind of justice and
compensation in every thing, she has not neglected philosophers
more than the rest of the creation, but has reserved them a
consolation amid all their disappointments and afflictions. This
consolation principally consists in their invention of the words faculty
and occult quality. For it being usual, after the frequent use of
terms, which are really significant and intelligible, to omit the idea
which we would express by them, and preserve only the custom by
which we recal the idea at pleasure; so it naturally happens, that
after the frequent use of terms which are wholly insignificant and
unintelligible, we fancy them to be on the same footing with the
precedent, and to have a secret meaning which we might discover
by reflection. The resemblance of their appearance deceives the
mind, as is usual, and makes us imagine a thorough resemblance
and conformity. By this means these philosophers set themselves at
ease, and arrive at last, by an illusion, at the same indifference
which the people attain by their stupidity, and true philosophers by
their moderate scepticism. They need only say, that any
phenomenon which puzzles them arises from a faculty or an occult
quality, and there is an end of all dispute and inquiry upon the
matter.
But among all the instances wherein the Peripatetics have shown
they were guided by every trivial propensity of the imagination, no
one is more remarkable than their sympathies, antipathies, and
horrors of a vacuum. There is a very remarkable inclination in
human nature to bestow on external objects the same emotions
which it observes in itself, and to find every where those ideas which
are most present to it. This inclination, 'tis true, is suppressed by a
little reflection, and only takes place in children, poets, and the
ancient philosophers. It appears in children, by their desire of
beating the stones which hurt them: in poets by their readiness to
personify every thing; and in the ancient philosophers, by these
fictions of sympathy and antipathy. We must pardon children,
because of their age; poets, because they profess to follow implicitly
the suggestions of their fancy; but what excuse shall we find to
justify our philosophers in so signal a weakness?

SECTION IV.
 OF THE MODERN PHILOSOPHY.

But here it may be objected, that the imagination, according to my

own confession, being the ultimate judge of all systems of
philosophy, I am unjust in blaming the ancient philosophers for
making use of that faculty, and allowing themselves to be entirely
guided by it in their reasonings. In order to justify myself, I must
distinguish in the imagination betwixt the principles which are
permanent, irresistible, and universal; such as the customary
transition from causes to effects, and from effects to causes: and the
principles, which are changeable, weak and irregular; such as those
I have just now taken notice of. The former are the foundation of all
our thoughts and actions, so that upon their removal, human nature
must immediately perish and go to ruin. The latter are neither
unavoidable to mankind, nor necessary, or so much as useful in the
conduct of life; but, on the contrary, are observed only to take place
in weak minds, and being opposite to the other principles of custom
and reasoning, may easily be subverted by a due contrast and
opposition. For this reason, the former are received by philosophy,
and the latter rejected. One who concludes somebody to be near
him, when he hears an articulate voice in the dark, reasons justly
and naturally; though that conclusion be derived from nothing but
custom, which infixes and enlivens the idea of a human creature, on
account of his usual conjunction with the present impression. But
one, who is tormented he knows not why, with the apprehension of
spectres in the dark, may perhaps be said to reason, and to reason
naturally too: but then it must be in the same sense that a malady is
said to be natural; as arising from natural causes, though it be
contrary to health, the most agreeable and most natural situation of
man.
The opinions of the ancient philosophers, their fictions of substance
and accident, and their reasonings concerning substantial forms and
occult qualities, are like the spectres in the dark, and are derived
from principles, which, however common, are neither universal nor
unavoidable in human nature. The modern philosophy pretends to
be entirely free from this defect, and to arise only from the solid,
permanent, and consistent principles of the imagination. Upon what
grounds this pretension is founded, must now be the subject of our
inquiry.
The fundamental principle of that philosophy is the opinion
concerning colours, sounds, tastes, smells, heat and cold; which it
asserts to be nothing but impressions in the mind, derived from the
operation of external objects, and without any resemblance to the
qualities of the objects. Upon examination, I find only one of the
reasons commonly produced for this opinion to be satisfactory; viz.
that derived from the variations of those impressions, even while the
external object, to all appearance, continues the same. These
variations depend upon several circumstances. Upon the different
situations of our health: a man in a malady feels a disagreeable
taste in meats, which before pleased him the most. Upon the
different complexions and constitutions of men: that seems bitter to
one, which is sweet to another. Upon the difference of their external
situation and position: colours reflected from the clouds change
according to the distance of the clouds, and according to the angle
they make with the eye and luminous body. Fire also communicates
the sensation of pleasure at one distance, and that of pain at
another. Instances of this kind are very numerous and frequent.
The conclusion drawn from them, is likewise as satisfactory as can
possibly be imagined. 'Tis certain, that when different impressions of
the same sense arise from any object, every one of these
impressions has not a resembling quality existent in the object. For
as the same object cannot, at the same time, be endowed with
different qualities of the same sense, and as the same quality cannot
resemble impressions entirely different; it evidently follows, that
many of our impressions have no external model or archetype. Now,
from like effects we presume like causes. Many of the impressions of
colour, sound, &c., are confessed to be nothing but internal
existences, and to arise from causes, which no ways resemble them.
These impressions are in appearance nothing different from the
other impressions of colour, sound, &c. We conclude, therefore, that
they are, all of them, derived from a like origin.
This principle being once admitted, all the other doctrines of that
philosophy seem to follow by an easy consequence. For, upon the
removal of sounds, colours, heat, cold, and other sensible qualities,
from the rank of continued independent existences, we are reduced
merely to what are called primary qualities, as the only real ones, of
which we have any adequate notion. These primary qualities are
extension and solidity, with their different mixtures and
modifications; figure, motion, gravity and cohesion. The generation,
increase, decay and corruption of animals and vegetables, are
nothing but changes of figure and motion; as also the operations of
all bodies on each other; of fire, of light, water, air, earth, and of all
the elements and powers of nature. One figure and motion produces
another figure and motion; nor does there remain in the material
universe any other principle, either active or passive, of which we
can form the most distant idea.
I believe many objections might be made to this system; but at
present I shall confine myself to one, which is, in my opinion, very
decisive. I assert, that instead of explaining the operations of
external objects by its means, we utterly annihilate all these objects,
and reduce ourselves to the opinions of the most extravagant
scepticism concerning them. If colours, sounds, tastes and smells be
merely perceptions, nothing, we can conceive, is possessed of a real,
continued, and independent existence; not even motion, extension
and solidity, which are the primary qualities chiefly insisted on.
To begin with the examination of motion; 'tis evident this is a quality
altogether inconceivable alone, and without a reference to some
other object. The idea of motion necessarily supposes that of a body
moving. Now, what is our idea of the moving body, without which
motion is incomprehensible? It must resolve itself into the idea of
extension or of solidity; and consequently the reality of motion
depends upon that of these other qualities.
This opinion, which is universally acknowledged concerning motion, I
have proved to be true with regard to extension; and have shown
that 'tis impossible to conceive extension but as composed of parts,
endowed with colour or solidity. The idea of extension is a
compound idea; but as it is not compounded of an infinite number of
parts or inferior ideas, it must at last resolve itself into such as are
perfectly simple and indivisible. These simple and indivisible parts
not being ideas of extension, must be nonentities, unless conceived
as coloured or solid. Colour is excluded from any real existence. The
reality therefore of our idea of extension depends upon the reality of
that of solidity; nor can the former be just while the latter is
chimerical. Let us then lend our attention to the examination of the
idea of solidity.
The idea of solidity is that of two objects, which, being impelled by
the utmost force, cannot penetrate each other, but still maintain a
separate and distinct existence. Solidity therefore is perfectly
incomprehensible alone, and without the conception of some bodies
which are solid, and maintain this separate and distinct existence.
Now, what idea have we of these bodies? The ideas of colours,
sounds, and other secondary qualities, are excluded. The idea of
motion depends on that of extension, and the idea of extension on
that of solidity. 'Tis impossible, therefore, that the idea of solidity can
depend on either of them. For that would be to run in a circle, and
make one idea depend on another, while, at the same time, the
latter depends on the former. Our modern philosophy, therefore,
leaves us no just nor satisfactory idea of solidity, nor consequently of
matter.
This argument will appear entirely conclusive to every one that
comprehends it; but because it may seem abstruse and intricate to
the generality of readers, I hope to be excused if I endeavour to
render it more obvious by some variation of the expression. In order
to form an idea of solidity, we must conceive two bodies pressing on
each other without any penetration; and 'tis impossible to arrive at
this idea, when we confine ourselves to one object, much more
without conceiving any. Two nonentities cannot exclude each other
from their places, because they never possess any place, nor can be
endowed with any quality. Now I ask, what idea do we form of these
bodies or objects to which we suppose solidity to belong? To say
that we conceive them merely as solid, is, to run on in infinitum. To
affirm that we paint them out to ourselves as extended, either
resolves all into a false idea, or returns in a circle. Extension must
necessarily be considered either as coloured, which is a false idea, or
as solid, which brings us back to the first question. We may make
the same observation concerning mobility and figure; and, upon the
whole, must conclude, that after the exclusion of colours, sounds,
heat and cold, from the rank of external existences, there remains
nothing which can afford us a just and consistent idea of body.
Add to this, that, properly speaking, solidity or impenetrability is
nothing but an impossibility of annihilation, as has been already
observed:[8] for which reason 'tis the more necessary for us to form
some distinct idea of that object whose annihilation we suppose
impossible. An impossibility of being annihilated cannot exist, and
can never be conceived to exist, by itself, but necessarily requires
some object or real existence to which it may belong. Now, the
difficulty still remains how to form an idea of this object or
existence, without having recourse to the secondary and sensible
qualities.
Nor must we omit, on this occasion, our accustomed method of
examining ideas by considering those impressions from which they
are derived. The impressions which enter by the sight and hearing,
the smell and taste, are affirmed by modern philosophy to be
without any resembling objects; and consequently the idea of
solidity, which is supposed to be real, can never be derived from any
of these senses. There remains, therefore, the feeling as the only
sense that can convey the impression which is original to the idea of
solidity; and, indeed, we naturally imagine that we feel the solidity of
bodies, and need but touch any object in order to perceive this
quality. But this method of thinking is more popular than
philosophical, as will appear from the following reflections.
First, 'tis easy to observe, that though bodies are felt by means of
their solidity, yet the feeling is a quite different thing from the
solidity, and that they have not the least resemblance to each other.
A man who has the palsy in one hand has as perfect an idea of
impenetrability, when he observes that hand to be supported by the
table, as when he feels the same table with the other hand. An
object that presses upon any of our members meets with resistance;
and that, resistance, by the motion it gives to the nerves and animal
spirits, conveys a certain sensation to the mind; but it does not
follow that the sensation, motion and resistance, are any ways
resembling.
Secondly, the impressions of touch are simple impressions, except
when considered with regard to their extension; which makes
nothing to the present purpose: and from this simplicity I infer, that
they neither represent solidity, nor any real object. For let us put two
cases, viz. that of a man who presses a stone or any solid body with
his hand, and that of two stones which press each other; 'twill
readily be allowed that these two cases are not in every respect
alike, but that in the former there is conjoined with the solidity a
feeling or sensation of which there is no appearance in the latter. In
order, therefore, to make these two cases alike, 'tis necessary to
remove some part of the impression which the man feels by his
hand, or organ of sensation; and that being impossible in a simple
impression, obliges us to remove the whole, and proves that this
whole impression has no archetype or model in external objects; to
which we may add, that solidity necessarily supposes two bodies,
along with contiguity and impulse; which being a compound object,
can never be represented by a simple impression. Not to mention,
that, though solidity continues always invariably the same, the
impressions of touch change every moment upon us, which is a clear
proof that the latter are not representations of the former.
Thus there is a direct and total opposition betwixt our reason and
our senses; or, more properly speaking, betwixt those conclusions
we form from cause and effect, and those that persuade us of the
continued and independent existence of body. When we reason from
cause and effect, we conclude, that neither colour, sound, taste nor
smell, have a continued and independent existence. When we
exclude these sensible qualities, there remains nothing in the
universe which has such an existence.

[8] Part II. Sect. 4.

SECTION V.

OF THE IMMATERIALITY OF THE SOUL.

Having found such contradictions and difficulties in every system

concerning external objects, and in the idea of matter, which we
fancy so clear and determinate, we shall naturally expect still greater
difficulties and contradictions in every hypothesis concerning our
internal perceptions, and the nature of the mind, which we are apt
to imagine so much more obscure and uncertain. But in this we
should deceive ourselves. The intellectual world, though involved in
infinite obscurities, is not perplexed with any such contradictions as
those we have discovered in the natural. What is known concerning
it, agrees with itself; and what is unknown, we must be contented to
leave so.
'Tis true, would we hearken to certain philosophers, they promise to
diminish our ignorance; but I am afraid 'tis at the hazard of running
us into contradictions, from which the subject is of itself exempted.
These philosophers are the curious reasoners concerning the
material or immaterial substances, in which they suppose our
perceptions to inhere. In order to put a stop to these endless cavils
on both sides, I know no better method, than to ask these
philosophers in a few words, What they mean by substance and
inhesion? And after they have answered this question, 'twill then be
reasonable, and not till then, to enter seriously into the dispute.
This question we have found impossible to be answered with regard
to matter and body; but besides that in the case of the mind it
labours under all the same difficulties, 'tis burthened with some
additional ones, which are peculiar to that subject. As every idea is
derived from a precedent impression, had we any idea of the
substance of our minds, we must also have an impression of it,
which is very difficult, if not impossible, to be conceived. For how
can an impression represent a substance, otherwise than by
resembling it? And how can an impression resemble a substance,
since, according to this philosophy, it is not a substance, and has
none of the peculiar qualities or characteristics of a substance?
But leaving the question of what may or may not be, for that other
what actually is, I desire those philosophers, who pretend that we
have an idea of the substance of our minds, to point out the
impression that produces it, and tell distinctly after what manner
that impression operates, and from what object it is derived. Is it an
impression of sensation or reflection? Is it pleasant, or painful, or
indifferent? Does it attend us at all times, or does it only return at
intervals? If at intervals, at what times principally does it return, and
by what causes is it produced?
If, instead of answering these questions, any one should evade the
difficulty, by saying, that the definition of a substance is something
which may exist by itself, and that this definition ought to satisfy us:
should this be said, I should observe, that this definition agrees to
every thing that can possibly be conceived; and never will serve to
distinguish substance from accident, or the soul from its perceptions.
For thus I reason. Whatever is clearly conceived, may exist; and
whatever is clearly conceived, after any manner, may exist after the
same manner. This is one principle which has been already
acknowledged. Again, every thing which is different is
distinguishable, and every thing which is distinguishable is separable
by the imagination. This is another principle. My conclusion from
both is, that since all our perceptions are different from each other,
and from every thing else in the universe, they are also distinct and
separable, and may be considered as separately existent, and may
exist separately, and have no need of any thing else to support their
existence. They are therefore substances, as far as this definition
explains a substance.
Thus, neither by considering the first origin of ideas, nor by means
of a definition, are we able to arrive at any satisfactory notion of
substance, which seems to me a sufficient reason for abandoning
utterly that dispute concerning the materiality and immateriality of
the soul, and makes me absolutely condemn even the question itself.
We have no perfect idea of any thing but of a perception. A
substance is entirely different from a perception. We have therefore
no idea of a substance. Inhesion in something is supposed to be
requisite to support the existence of our perceptions. Nothing
appears requisite to support the existence of a perception. We have
therefore no idea of inhesion. What possibility then of answering
that question, Whether perceptions inhere in a material or
immaterial substance, when we do not so much as understand the
meaning of the question?
There is one argument commonly employed for the immateriality of
the soul, which seems to me remarkable. Whatever is extended
consists of parts; and whatever consists of parts is divisible, if not in
reality, at least in the imagination. But 'tis impossible any thing
divisible can be conjoined to a thought or perception, which is a
being altogether inseparable and indivisible. For, supposing such a
conjunction, would the indivisible thought exist on the left or on the
right hand of this extended divisible body? On the surface or in the
middle? On the back or fore-side of it? If it be conjoined with the
extension, it must exist somewhere within its dimensions. If it exist
within its dimensions, it must either exist in one particular part; and
then that particular part is indivisible, and the perception is
conjoined only with it, not with the extension: or if the thought
exists in every part, it must also be extended, and separable, and
divisible, as well as the body, which is utterly absurd and
contradictory. For can any one conceive a passion of a yard in
length, a foot in breadth, and an inch in thickness? Thought
therefore and extension are qualities wholly incompatible, and never
can incorporate together into one subject.
This argument affects not the question concerning the substance of
the soul, but only that concerning its local conjunction with matter;
and therefore it may not be improper to consider in general what
objects are, or are not susceptible of a local conjunction. This is a
curious question, and may lead us to some discoveries of
considerable moment.
The first notion of space and extension is derived solely from the
senses of sight and feeling; nor is there anything, but what is
coloured or tangible, that has parts disposed after such a manner as
to convey that idea. When we diminish or increase a relish, 'tis not
after the same manner that we diminish or increase any visible
object; and when several sounds strike our hearing at once, custom
and reflection alone make us form an idea of the degrees of the
distance and contiguity of those bodies from which they are derived.
Whatever marks the place of its existence, either must be extended,
or must be a mathematical point, without parts or composition.
What is extended must have a particular figure, as square, round,
triangular; none of which will agree to a desire, or indeed to any
impression or idea, except of these two senses above-mentioned.
Neither ought a desire, though indivisible, to be considered as a
mathematical point. For in that case 'twould be possible, by the
addition of others, to make two, three, four desires; and these
disposed and situated in such a manner, as to have a determinate
length, breadth, and thickness; which is evidently absurd.
'Twill not be surprising after this, if I deliver a maxim, which is
condemned by several metaphysicians, and is esteemed contrary to
the most certain principles of human reason. This maxim is, that an
object may exist, and yet be no where: and I assert, that this is not
only possible, but that the greatest part of beings do and must exist
after this manner. An object may be said to be no where, when its
parts are not so situated with respect to each other, as to form any
figure or quantity; nor the whole with respect to other bodies so as
to answer to our notions of contiguity or distance. Now, this is
evidently the case with all our perceptions and objects, except those
of the sight and feeling. A moral reflection cannot be placed on the
right or on the left hand of a passion; nor can a smell or sound be
either of a circular or a square figure.
These objects and perceptions, so far from requiring any particular
place, are absolutely incompatible with it, and even the imagination
cannot attribute it to them. And as to the absurdity of supposing
them to be no where, we may consider, that if the passions and
sentiments appear to the perception to have any particular place,
the idea of extension might be derived from them, as well as from
the sight and touch; contrary to what we have already established.
If they appear not to have any particular place, they may possibly
exist in the same manner; since whatever we conceive is possible.
'Twill not now be necessary to prove, that those perceptions, which
are simple, and exist no where, are incapable of any conjunction in
place with matter or body, which is extended and divisible; since 'tis
impossible to found a relation but on some common quality.[9] It
may be better worth our while to remark, that this question of the
local conjunction of objects, does not only occur in metaphysical
disputes concerning the nature of the soul, but that even in common
life we have every moment occasion to examine it. Thus, supposing
we consider a fig at one end of the table, and an olive at the other,
'tis evident, that, in forming the complex ideas of these substances,
one of the most obvious is that of their different relishes; and 'tis as
evident, that we incorporate and conjoin these qualities with such as
are coloured and tangible. The bitter taste of the one, and sweet of
the other, are supposed to lie in the very visible body, and to be
separated from each other by the whole length of the table. This is
so notable and so natural an illusion, that it may be proper to
consider the principles from which it is derived.
Though an extended object be incapable of a conjunction in place
with another that exists without any place or extension, yet are they
susceptible of many other relations. Thus the taste and smell of any
fruit are inseparable from its other qualities of colour and tangibility;
and whichever of them be the cause or effect, 'tis certain they are
always coexistent. Nor are they only coexistent in general, but also
cotemporary in their appearance in the mind; and 'tis upon the
application of the extended body to our senses we perceive its
particular taste and smell. These relations, then, of causation, and
contiguity in the time of their appearance, betwixt the extended
object and the quality, which exists without any particular place,
must have such an effect on the mind, that, upon the appearance of
one, it will immediately turn its thought to the conception of the
other. Nor is this all. We not only turn our thought from one to the
other upon account of their relation, but likewise endeavour to give
them a new relation, viz. that of a conjunction in place, that we may
render the transition more easy and natural. For 'tis a quality, which
I shall often have occasion to remark in human nature, and shall
explain more fully in its proper place, that, when objects are united
by any relation, we have a strong propensity to add some new
relation to them, in order to complete the union. In our arrangement
of bodies, we never fail to place such as are resembling in contiguity
to each other, or, at least, in correspondent points of view: why? but
because we feel a satisfaction in joining the relation of contiguity to
that of resemblance, or the resemblance of situation to that of
qualities. The effects of this propensity have been already
observed[10] in that resemblance, which we so readily suppose
betwixt particular impressions and their external causes. But we
shall not find a more evident effect of it than in the present instance,
where, from the relations of causation and contiguity in time betwixt
two objects, we feign likewise that of a conjunction in place, in order
to strengthen the connexion.
But whatever confused notions we may form of an union in place
betwixt an extended body, as a fig, and its particular taste, 'tis
certain that, upon reflection, we must observe in this union
something altogether unintelligible and contradictory. For, should we
ask ourselves one obvious question, viz. if the taste, which we
conceive to be contained in the circumference of the body, is in
every part of it, or in one only, we must quickly find ourselves at a
loss, and perceive the impossibility of ever giving a satisfactory
answer. We cannot reply that 'tis only in one part: for experience
convinces us that every part has the same relish. We can as little
reply that it exists in every part: for then we must suppose it figured
and extended; which is absurd and incomprehensible. Here, then,
we are influenced by two principles, directly contrary to each other,
viz. that inclination of our fancy by which we are determined to
incorporate the taste with the extended object, and our reason,
which shows us the impossibility of such an union. Being divided
betwixt these opposite principles, we renounce neither one nor the
other, but involve the subject in such confusion and obscurity, that
we no longer perceive the opposition. We suppose that the taste
exists within the circumference of the body, but in such a manner,
that it fills the whole without extension, and exists entire in every
part without separation. In short, we use, in our most familiar way
of thinking, that scholastic principle which, when crudely proposed,
appears so shocking, of totum in toto, et totum in qualibet parte;
which is much the same as if we should say, that a thing is in a
certain place, and yet is not there.
All this absurdity proceeds from our endeavouring to bestow a place
on what is utterly incapable of it; and that endeavour again arises
from our inclination to complete an union which is founded on
causation and a contiguity of time, by attributing to the objects a
conjunction in place. But if ever reason be of sufficient force to
overcome prejudice, 'tis certain that, in the present case, it must
prevail. For we have only this choice left, either to suppose that
some beings exist without any place, or that they are figured and
extended; or that when they are incorporated with extended objects,
the whole is in the whole, and the whole in every part. The absurdity
of the two last suppositions proves sufficiently the veracity of the
first. Nor is there any fourth opinion: For as to the supposition of
their existence in the manner of mathematical points, it resolves
itself into the second opinion, and supposes, that several passions
may be placed in a circular figure, and that a certain number of
smells, conjoined with a certain number of sounds, may make a
body of twelve cubic inches; which appears ridiculous upon the bare
mentioning of it.
But though in this view of things we cannot refuse to condemn, the
materialists, who conjoin all thought with extension; yet a little
reflection will show us equal reason for blaming their antagonists,
who conjoin all thought with a simple and indivisible substance. The
most vulgar philosophy informs us, that no external object can make
itself known to the mind immediately, and without the interposition
of an image or perception. That table, which just now appears to
me, is only a perception, and all its qualities are qualities of a
perception. Now, the most obvious of all its qualities is extension.
The perception consists of parts. These parts are so situated as to
afford us the notion of distance and contiguity, of length, breadth
and thickness. The termination of these three dimensions is what we
call figure. This figure is moveable, separable, and divisible. Mobility
and separability are the distinguishing properties of extended
objects. And to cut short all disputes, the very idea of extension is
copied from nothing but an impression, and consequently must
perfectly agree to it. To say the idea of extension agrees to any
thing, is to say it is extended.
The freethinker may now triumph in his turn; and having found
there are impressions and ideas really extended, may ask his
antagonists, how they can incorporate a simple and indivisible
subject with an extended perception? All the arguments of
theologians may here be retorted upon them. Is the indivisible
subject or immaterial substance, if you will, on the left or on the
right hand of the perception? Is it in this particular part, or in that
other? Is it in every part without being extended? Or is it entire in
any one part without deserting the rest? 'Tis impossible to give any
answer to these questions but what will both be absurd in itself, and
will account for the union of our indivisible perceptions with an
extended substance.
This gives me an occasion to take anew into consideration the
question concerning the substance of the soul; and though I have
condemned that question as utterly unintelligible, yet I cannot
forbear proposing some farther reflections concerning it. I assert,
that the doctrine of the immateriality, simplicity, and indivisibility of a
thinking substance is a true atheism, and will serve to justify all
those sentiments for which Spinoza is so universally infamous. From
this topic I hope at least to reap one advantage, that my adversaries
will not have any pretext to render the present doctrine odious by
their declamations when they see that they can be so easily retorted
on them.
The fundamental principle of the atheism of Spinoza is the doctrine
of the simplicity of the universe, and the unity of that substance in
which he supposes both thought and matter to inhere. There is only
one substance, says he, in the world, and that substance is perfectly
simple and indivisible, and exists every where without any local
presence. Whatever we discover externally by sensation, whatever
we feel internally by reflection, all these are nothing but
modifications of that one simple and necessarily existent being, and
are not possessed of any separate or distinct existence. Every
passion of the soul, every configuration of matter however different
and various, inhere in the same substance, and preserve in
themselves their characters of distinction, without communicating
them to that subject in which they inhere. The same substratum, if I
may so speak, supports the most different modifications without any
difference in itself, and varies them without any variation. Neither
time, nor place, nor all the diversity of nature are able to produce
any composition or change in its perfect simplicity and identity.
I believe this brief exposition of the principles of that famous atheist
will be sufficient for the present purpose, and that without entering
farther into these gloomy and obscure regions, I shall be able to
show, that this hideous hypothesis is almost the same with that of
the immateriality of the soul, which has become so popular. To make
this evident, let us remember,[11] that as every idea is derived from
a preceding perception, 'tis impossible our idea of a perception, and
that of an object or external existence, can ever represent what are
specifically different from each other. Whatever difference we may
suppose betwixt them, 'tis still incomprehensible to us; and we are
obliged, either to conceive an external object merely as a relation
without a relative, or to make it the very same with a perception or
impression.
The consequence I shall draw from this may, at first sight, appear a
mere sophism; but upon the least examination will be found solid
and satisfactory. I say then, that since we may suppose, but never
can conceive, a specific difference betwixt an object and impression,
any conclusion we form concerning the connexion and repugnance
of impressions, will not be known certainly to be applicable to
objects; but that, on the other hand, whatever conclusions of this
kind we form concerning objects, will most certainly be applicable to
impressions. The reason is not difficult. As an object is supposed to
be different from an impression, we cannot be sure, that the
circumstance, upon which we found our reasoning, is common to
both, supposing we form the reasoning upon the impression. 'Tis still
possible, that the object may differ from it in that particular. But
when we first form our reasoning concerning the object, 'tis beyond
doubt, that the same reasoning must extend to the impression: and
that because the quality of the object, upon which the argument is
founded, must at least be conceived by the mind, and could not be
conceived, unless it were common to an impression; since we have
no idea but what is derived from that origin. Thus we may establish
it as a certain maxim, that we can never, by any principle, but by an
irregular kind of reasoning from experience,[12] discover a connexion
or repugnance betwixt objects, which extends not to impressions;
though the inverse proposition may not be equally true, that all the
discoverable relations of impressions are common to objects.
To apply this to the present case; there are two different systems of
beings presented, to which I suppose myself under a necessity of
assigning some substance, or ground of inhesion. I observe first the
universe of objects or of body: the sun, moon, and stars; the earth,
seas, plants, animals, men, ships, houses, and other productions
either of art or nature. Here Spinoza appears, and tells me, that
these are only modifications and that the subject in which they
inhere is simple, uncompounded, and indivisible. After this I consider
the other system of beings, viz. the universe of thought, or my
impressions and ideas. There I observe another sun, moon, and
stars; an earth, and seas, covered and inhabited by plants and
animals; towns, houses, mountains, rivers; and in short every thing I
can discover or conceive in the first system. Upon my inquiring
concerning these, theologians present themselves, and tell me, that
these also are modifications, and modifications of one simple,
uncompounded, and indivisible substance. Immediately upon which I
am deafened with the noise of a hundred voices, that treat the first
hypothesis with detestation and scorn, and the second with applause
and veneration. I turn my attention to these hypotheses to see what
may be the reason of so great a partiality; and find that they have
the same fault of being unintelligible, and that, as far as we can
understand them, they are so much alike, that 'tis impossible to
discover any absurdity in one, which is not common to both of them.
We have no idea of any quality in an object, which does not agree
to, and may not represent a quality in an impression; and that
because all our ideas are derived from our impressions. We can
never therefore find any repugnance betwixt an extended object as
a modification, and a simple uncompounded essence, as its
substance; unless that repugnance takes place equally betwixt the
perception or impression of that extended object, and the same
uncompounded essence. Every idea of a quality in an object passes
through an impression; and therefore every perceivable relation,
whether of connexion or repugnance, must be common both to
objects and impressions.
But though this argument, considered in general, seems evident
beyond all doubt and contradiction, yet to make it more clear and
sensible, let us survey it in detail; and see whether all the
absurdities, which have been found in the system of Spinoza, may
not likewise be discovered in that of theologians.[13]
First, it has been said against Spinoza, according to the scholastic
way of talking, rather than thinking, that a mode, not being any
distinct or separate existence, must be the very same with its
substance, and consequently the extension of the universe must be
in a manner identified with that simple, uncompounded essence in
which the universe is supposed to inhere. But this, it may be
pretended, is utterly impossible and inconceivable unless the
indivisible substance expand itself, so as to correspond to the
extension, or the extension contract itself, so as to answer to the
indivisible substance. This argument seems just, as far as we can
understand it; and 'tis plain nothing is required, but a change in the
terms, to apply the same argument to our extended perceptions,
and the simple essence of the soul; the ideas of objects and
perceptions being in every respect the same, only attended with the
supposition of a difference, that is unknown and incomprehensible.
Secondly, it has been said, that we have no idea of substance, which
is not applicable to matter; nor any idea of a distinct substance,
which is not applicable to every distinct portion of matter. Matter
therefore is not a mode but a substance, and each part of matter is
not a distinct mode, but a distinct substance. I have already proved,
that we have no perfect idea of substance; but that taking it for
something that can exist by itself, 'tis evident every perception is a
substance, and every distinct part of a perception a distinct
substance: and consequently the one hypothesis labours under the
same difficulties in this respect with the other.
Thirdly, it has been objected to the system of one simple substance
in the universe, that this substance, being the support or substratum
of every thing, must at the very same instant be modified into forms,
which are contrary and incompatible. The round and square figures
are incompatible in the same substance at the same time. How then
is it possible, that the same substance can at once be modified into
that square table, and into this round one? I ask the same question
Welcome to our website – the perfect destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. We believe that every book holds a new world,
offering opportunities for learning, discovery, and personal growth.
That’s why we are dedicated to bringing you a diverse collection of
books, ranging from classic literature and specialized publications to
self-development guides and children's books.

More than just a book-buying platform, we strive to be a bridge

connecting you with timeless cultural and intellectual values. With an
elegant, user-friendly interface and a smart search system, you can
quickly find the books that best suit your interests. Additionally,
our special promotions and home delivery services help you save time
and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Join us on a journey of knowledge exploration, passion nurturing, and

personal growth every day!

ebookbell.com