CIII. But I would not be understood to admit, that the women have more understanding than the men; I only mean to retort on father Malebranche, the doctrine, from which he pretends to infer the advantage to be on the side of the men, in contradiction to what in another place, he himself has asserted. My own opinion of the matter is, that, by such sort of philosophical reasoning, you may prove every thing, when in reality you prove nothing. Every one philosophizes in his own mode, and if I was to write with a view of flattering, or from caprice or ostentation, or with a design of making parade of my ingenuity, I could easily, by deducing consequences from admitted principles, elevate the understandings of the women, superior to those of the men, by many degrees; but this is not my nature, or disposition; on the contrary, I had much rather propound my sentiments with sincerity; and therefore I say, that neither father Malebranche, nor any other person, even to this day, has known the punctual actings, or specific manœuvres, by which the organs of the head, administer to the faculties of the soul. We don’t know as yet, how fire burns, or how snow occasions cold, although they are things which are manifest to our sight and our touch; and would father Malebranche, and the other Cartesians, persuade us, that they have registered and examined all that passes in the most hidden and remote corners of the cabinet of the rational soul? Neither do these maxims appear to me well founded, which, by reducing every thing to mechanical principles, figure to us the spirit, stamping materially the images of objects on the brain, in the same manner, that impressions are made on copper with a chissel. I am also aware of the serious difficulties, that are attendant on, and annexed to, the intentional species of Aristotle. But what is the result of all this? Why, that none of us have done more, than just touch the outside covering of Nature. We all walk blindfold, and he is the most blind, who fancies he perceives things with the greatest clearness, and may be compared to a servant of Seneca, named Harpacta, who was so infatuated, after having lost all his visual faculties, and having become stone-blind, as to fancy he could see. It is certain, that those who live in a confidence, that they can penetrate and look into Nature, are the most exposed to dangerous errors; because he who walks on with much boldness, having but a dim light to guide him, runs the most hazard of falling; on the contrary, he is the furthest from this danger, who knowing the way is dark, proceeds with caution.