turn all our Thoughts on the empty and transitory Nature of Riches and Honours, we are, perhaps, all the while flattering our natural Indolence, which, hating the Bustle of the World and Drudgery of Business, seeks a Pretext of Reason, to give itself a full and uncontroul'd Indulgence. There is, 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 talk always of Doubts and Suspense of Judgment, of Danger in hasty Determinations, of confining to very narrow Bounds the Enquiries of the Understanding, and of renouncing all Speculations that 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 mortify'd by it, except the Love of Truth; and that Passion never is, nor can be carry'd to too high a Degree. 'Tis 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 Hatredand
