SECT.  LIV.  The Ideas of Man are the Immutable Rules of his Judgment.

But besides the idea of the infinite, I have yet universal and immutable notions, which are the rule and standard of all my judgments; insomuch that I cannot judge of anything but by consulting them; nor am I free to judge contrary to what they represent to me.  My thoughts are so far from being able to correct or form that rule, that they are themselves corrected, in spite of myself, by that superior rule; and invincibly subjected to its decision.  Whatever effort my mind can make, I can never be brought, as I observed before, to entertain a doubt whether two and two make four; whether the whole is bigger than one of its parts; or whether the centre of a perfect circle be equally distant from all the points of the circumference.  I am not free to deny those propositions; and if I happen to deny those truths, or others much like them, there is in me something above myself, which forces me to return to the rule.  That fixed and immutable rule is so inward and intimate, that I am tempted to take it for myself.  But it is above me, since it corrects and rectifies me; gives me a distrust of myself, and makes me sensible of my impotency.  It is something that inspires me every moment, provided I hearken to it, and I never err or mistake except when I am not attentive to it.  What inspires me would for ever preserve me from error, if I were docile, and acted without precipitation; for that inward inspiration would teach me to judge aright of things within my reach, and about which I have occasion to form a judgment.  As for others, it would teach me not to judge of them at all, which second lesson is no less important than the first.  That inward rule is what I call my reason; but I speak of my reason without penetrating into the extent of those words, as I speak of nature and instinct, without knowing what those expressions mean.