Nothing seems more delicate, with regard to its causes, than thought; and as these causes never operate in two persons after the same manner, so we never find two persons who think exactly alike.

Nor indeed does the same person think exactly alike at any two different periods of time.

A difference of age, of the disposition of his body, of weather, of food, of company, of books, of passions; any of these particulars, or others more minute, are sufficient to alter the curious machinery of thought, and communicate to it very different movements and operations.

As far as we can judge, vegetables and animal bodies are not more delicate in their motions, nor depend upon a greater variety or more curious adjustment of springs and principles.
How, therefore, shall we satisfy ourselves concerning the cause of that Being whom you suppose the Author of Nature, or, according to your system of Anthropomorphism, the ideal world, into which you trace the material?
Have we not the same reason to trace that ideal world into another ideal world, or new intelligent principle?
But if we stop, and go no further; why go so far?
why not stop at the material world?
How can we satisfy ourselves without going on in infinitum?
And, after all, what satisfaction is there in that infinite progression?
Let us remember the story of the Indian philosopher and his elephant.

It was never more applicable than to the present subject.