While the refutations of the Principles are the height of Berkeley's direct engagement of the reader, in a sense the whole text is devoted to refutation. When Berkeley is not confronting the reader's probable objections to immaterialism, he is grappling with those authorities who would undermine his case. But each of Berkeley's vigorous attacks is followed by some sort of concession: abstract ideas are impossible, but we discover we have general terms to fill the gap; sensations are ‘in the mind’, but prove just as real as before; we can no longer look for second causes in nature, but can find there instead ‘the grandeur, wisdom, and beneficence of the Creator’ (II.89). Berkeley seems always to be pushing us too far, only to retreat half the distance. When he is most disconcerting, we suddenly find him conceding to our concerns. This seems to be the pattern Berkeley has chosen for the Principles as a whole. While his a priori section offers startling epistemological propositions, the refutations help to clarify Berkeley's stand and quell our initial confusion. With his a posteriori arguments we are led back into the comfortable world of conservative Christianity. Even within each of the three main divisions of Part I we witness a movement from a discussion of matter and ideas, to spirit, and ultimately to God, finding in faith the certainty that we fear we are deprived of in our senses.

So at the same time as Berkeley offers striking challenges to our conception of the world, he can claim that he is ‘guilty of no innovation’ (II.80).