ons of the latter. All attempts of this kind have hitherto
proved fruitless, and seem to have proceeded entirely from that love
of SIMPLICITY which has been the source of much false reasoning in
philosophy. I shall not here enter into any detail on the present
subject. Many able philosophers have shown the insufficiency of these
systems. And I shall take for granted what, I believe, the smallest
reflection will make evident to every impartial enquirer.

But the nature of the subject furnishes the strongest presumption, that
no better system will ever, for the future, be invented, in order to
account for the origin of the benevolent from the selfish affections,
and reduce all the various emotions of the human mind to a perfect
simplicity. The case is not the same in this species of philosophy as
in physics. Many an hypothesis in nature, contrary to first appearances,
has been found, on more accurate scrutiny, solid and satisfactory.
Instances of this kind are so frequent that a judicious, as well as
witty philosopher, [Footnote: Mons. Fontenelle.] has ventured to affirm,
if there be more than one way in which any phenomenon may be produced,
that there is general presumption for its arising from the causes which
are the least obvious and familiar. But the presumption always lies on
the other side, in all enquiries concerning the origin of our passions,
and of the internal operations of the human mind. The simplest and
most obvious cause which can there be assigned for any phenomenon, is
probably the true one. When a philosopher, in the explication of his
system, is obliged to have recourse to some very intricate and refined
reflections, and to suppose them essential to the production of any
passion or emotion, we have reason to be extremely on our guard against
so fallacious an hypothesis. The affections are not susceptible of any
impression from the refinements of reason or imagination; and it
is always found that a vigorous exertion of the latter faculties,
necessarily, from the narrow capacity of the human mind, destroys all
activity in the former. Our predominant motive or intention is, indeed,
frequently concealed from ourselves when it is mingled and confounded
with other motives which the mind, from vanity or self-conceit, is
desirous of supposing more prevalent: but there is no instance that a
concealment of this nature has ever arisen from the abstruseness and
intricacy of the motive. A man that has lost a friend