This paper falls into three parts. In the first I retrace the steps which, have led many to consider that there is a ‘problem of induction’ which may have only a sceptical solution. In the second I explain why I think we cannot rest content with such a solution. In the third I try to show how a new approach to certain key concepts in the philosophy of science—in particular the concept of natural law—may help towards a non-sceptical resolution of the problem.

David Hume's claim that necessary connection is essential to causality was at the expense of a useful causal distinction we sometimes note with the words ‘necessity’ and ‘contingency’. And since, as J. L. Mackie has stated, Hume made ‘the most significant and influential single contribution to the theory of causation’, subsequent writers on causality, regardless of their support for, or opposition to, Hume, have joined him in trampling this distinction. The object of this paper is not so much to undermine one of Hume's conclusions as it is to describe a use of ‘necessary’ that, while surviving in popular usage, is ignored or obfuscated in the literature on causality.

In his paper ‘A Function for Thought Experiments’, T. S. Kuhn asks: Ought we demand of our concepts, as we do of our laws and theories, that they be applicable to any and every situation that might conceivably arise in any possible world? Is it not sufficient to demand of a concept, as we do of a law or theory, that it be unequivocally applicable in every situation which we expect ever to encounter?

There is not, and may there never be, any treatise by me …onthese things, for the subject is not communicable in words, as othersciences are. Rather is it that, after long association in the business itself and a shared life, a light is lit in the soul, kindled, as it were, by a leaping flame, and thenceforward feeds itself (Plato).

‘The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.’

Philosophy as an academic programme is very young in higher institutions of learning in Nigeria. Third World developing countries usually have concerns other than the teaching of philosophy on their agenda when trying to disburse their meagre resources for the educational sector. They would want to clothe, feed, house and provide medical care for their teeming populations first, and then people who want to T philosophize can do so. So their priority in the area of education is not I for people who will split hairs over words and concepts and theorise about lofty ideals—the popular image of the philosopher—but for the training of agriculturalists, technicians, doctors, engineers and others who can contribute much more tangibly to the development process. For this reason, many people regard a department of philosophy in a university as a luxury item which developing countries can ill afford. For this reason too, the philosophy department, usually the latest arrival in its faculty, is added as an appendix and is the first to be eyed when a scraping becomes necessary in the face of reduced subvention to the institution.

Following the practice of human beings everywhere historians distinguish the real or most significant cause(s) of an occurrence or state of affairs from ‘less important considerations’, ‘precipitating circumstances’, or ‘mere conditions’. I shall term claims that some phenomenon is most basically to be attributed to some one (or few) of the factors causally necessary for its occurrence attributive causal explanations or causal attributions and discusshere the extent to which moral convictions are constitutive of them.

To forgive a person for a wrong he has done has often been valued as morally good and as indicative of a benevolent and merciful character. But while forgiveness has been recognized as valuable its nature as a moral response has largely been ignored by modern moral philosophers who work outside the confines of a religious context.1 Where it has been discussed, forgiveness has been thought particularly difficult to define, and some have thought the forgiving response paradoxical or even impossible. I shall discuss some of these difficulties and suggest firstly that the value of forgiveness lies in the fact that it essentially requires a recognition of the wrongdoer's responsibility for his action, and secondly that forgiveness typically involves an effort on the part of the one wronged: a conscious attempt to improve oneself in relation to the wrongdoer.

The common or lay view of the contribution of Freudian and psychoanalytic theory to our understanding of human sexual conduct seems to be that it is essentially subversive of traditional or conventional sexual morality. For does not the psychoanalytic discovery of psychological causes over which we have no direct control reveal that whatever we may be inclined to do from sexual motives is not a matterfor guilt or shame? Does it not show that much of the sexual guilt and shame that we do experience is merely the product of inhibitions and repressions which are the result of dubiously rational social taboos and parental prohibitions? The main impact of Freudian or psychoanalytic views on modern popular thought about sexual morality andconduct would appear to amount to little more than a collection of such vague beliefs.

Absolutely no one still believes that every physical interactionconsists of material bodies bumping into each other. Those who have tried to work out a completely mechanistic physics have been unable to explain common phenomena like liquidity, gravitation and magnetism. In fact, there is great reason to doubt that such a physics could ever account for attractive forces in general.

On a hot sleepy summer day an old truck rattles along a dusty road. A turnip falls off the truck, the truck does not stop. Perhaps the old man who drives the truck does not know that the turnip fell off, or perhaps he does not care. He values his time or his ease more than he values the I turnip. We, who know not only that turnips are nourishing but that many people go hungry, may say that the man ought to have stopped to pick up the turnip.

Weeter and Duvall were good friends and philosophical colleagues. Their friendship was served by the fact that they shared a number of important philosophical commitments. Both, for instance, were theists. Both also devoutly believed in possible worlds, propositions, and essences. And furthermore, both were ardent libertarians.

In Plato's dialogue the Euthyphro, Socrates poses a question that has come to be known as the ‘Euthyphro dilemma’. Since the first formulation of this problem is surely the best, I will quote from Socrates himself:

… For consider: is the holy loved by the gods because it is holy? Or is it holy because it is loved by the gods?

The door's being shut caused the room to be wanner. As we can also say, a set of conditions or events which included the door's being shut caused the room to be warmer. The set of conditions or events. whatever is to be said more carefully of their ontological category, and their closer specification, can be called a causal chrwnslance. The question of causal priority, as it is named, is the question of analysing or elucidating the difference or asymmetry between cause and causal circumstance on the one hand, and, on the other hand, their effect. David Sanford does not like my answer1 and sticks to his own more original one2. I should like to say briefly why

Biological theories about the nature and origin of ethics are important, j both because they may be largely true, and because distorted versions are sometimes effective in moulding people's ethical beliefs in curious i ways. The pernicious effects (real and supposed) which sometimes follow the application of biology to ethics stem from an assortment of misinterpretations, while, correctly interpreted, even the most extreme biological determinism need not be supposed to diminish the worth of conscious individuals, nor be incompatible with genuinely ethical behaviour.

Should I have the opportunity to travel back in time to converse with great philosophers, Hume would be high on my itinerary. My gratitude for his insights and hospitality would surely tempt me to reciprocate by telling him about my time travels. But I fear he would not believe me. For the reasoning underlying Hume's famous scepticism about miracles dooms my tales of time travel to an incredulous reception. The ensuing paragraphs will be dedicated to an elucidation of this fear. This elucidation is of more than historical interest, since Hume's reasoning about miracles still strikes many contemporary philosophers y as cogent. Thus the scepticism about time travel that I attribute to Hume should also be shared by his followers. It should be noted that the scepticism at issue is epistemological rather than metaphysical. The key question will not be ‘Is time travel possible?’ We shall instead ask whether it is possible to justify a belief in a report of time travel. The metaphysical issue will only be addressed in response to the question of whether one can be an epistemological sceptic about time travel without being a metaphysical sceptic.