studies peculiarly attractive to them. But he would at the same time have met with no inconsiderable outbreak of indignation, in consequence of the sceptical tone of the work; and on this subject we wish to say a word or two to the intelligent and candid biographer.

In remarking on Hume's views of cause and effect, Mr. Burton has the following passage:

"They are surely no enlightened friends to religion, who maintain that the suppression of inquiry as to the material or the immaterial world, is favourable to the cause of revealed truth. The blasphemer who raises his voice offensively and contentiously against what his fellowcitizens hold sacred, invokes the public wrath, and is no just object of sympathy. The extent of his punishment is regretted only when, by its vindictive excess, it is liable to excite retaliatory attacks from the same quarter. But the speculative philosopher, who does not directly interfere with the religion of his neighbours, should be left to the peaceful pursuit of his inquiries; and those who, instead of meeting him by fair argument, cry out irreligion, and call in the mob to their aid, should reflect first, whether it is absolutely certain that they are right in their conclusion, that his inquiries, if carried out, would be inimical to religion-whether some mind more acute and philosophical than their own, may not either finally confute the sceptical philosopher's argument, or prove that it is not inimical to religion; and, secondly, whether they are not likely to be themselves the greatest foes to religion, by holding that it requires such defence, and the practical blasphemers, by proclaiming that religion is in danger?"—Vol. i., pp. 87, 88.

Now in all this there is a great deal of abstract truth; but unfortunately it is not at all applicable to Hume or his writings, nor would Hume himself ever have held such a tone. It is, we admit, quite true that to raise a cry of irreligion against a theory in physical or moral science, when abstractly propounded, is in the general both weak and unjust. He who believes in the religion supposed to be assailed, must believe it able to stand all legitimate tests; and no philosophical inquiry, if conducted on logical or inductive principles, should be put down on that ground, if liable to no other criticism. But Hume made no secret of his infidelity. In his reasonings he never approached the subject of religion without plainly indicating the state of his convictions in regard to it; and certainly no man had ever less reason to complain of being called an infidel than Hume. It would be wrong to say he gloried in it: he simply professed it, but he never made any doubt about the matter. If he had merely propounded his doctrine of cause and effect, and left others to follow out its results, there might have been some reason for indignation at the orthodox clamour with which he was afterwards assailed. But he was accused of no more than he was ready and anxious to pro

fess. He was a far more philosophical sceptic than Gibbon, whose sneer is that of malevolence-or of Bolingbroke, whose speculations, founded on the school of Shaftesbury, and betraying far more vanity than reasoning, border on the Satanic. Hume plainly had no pleasure in abusing any religion; but he wished the world would understand that he believed in none.

We therefore own our wonder that Mr. Burton should have thought it necessary to insert these palliative pages, as to a man who felt scepticism so little as a reproach. It was not his abstract theory, but his avowed practical application of it, which excited comment and remonstrance; and although it might have been as well if some of his assailants had stopped to carry out his process, he who stopped midway to draw specific results could not be surprised with reason, or complain with justice, at the clamour and revulsion which his writings originated among religi

ous men.

In what language scepticism is to be reproved, or in what temper treated, is a totally different matter. Of course, to those who consider religion as purely a department of philosophy, where all men may with impunity select their own theory, and where probably all theories have an equal amount of truth and falsehood, the pure sceptic who disbelieves all seems only an incredulous speculator. But to any one who really looks on religion as a serious practical concern, it is impossible to remain indifferent to assaults which aim directly and avowedly at the foundation on which his faith rests. There are two processes by which the attack may be met. One is to stand on the acknowledged word of truth, and show the contrariety of the antagonist argument; and this to the man who feels that he stands firm in the faith, is the shorter and the safer process. The other is to grapple with the contending theory and show its actual results; and in how many departments of science have the sceptic cavillers, who but stepped into the porch, been led captive in triumph under the banner of Christianity by those who penetrated the shrine? The latter is doubtless the more philosophic alternative, but it is not one to which the powers of all men are equal; and no man has the least reason to grumble that, when he avows himself an infidel, he is called one. How far the name infers disgrace, is, of course, a question on which he and his accusers will necessarily be at issue; but he ought to feel no more offence in being styled an infidel, than the other does in being denominated a Christian. A little farther on in his book, Mr. Burton's anxiety to protect the Christianity of Hume, leads him to mistake manifest banter for sober earnest. He is engaged in the not very probable task of demonstrating that Hume's doctrines of free-will and necessity, and even his views of miracles, were consonant with, and

calculated to support the views of such evangelical clergy as Whitefield and Erskine. He says, that "in this same section on miracles, there are repeated protests against the reader assuming that the writer is arguing against the Christian faith." And in illustration of these "protests," he quotes two sentences which we have always read as plain and palpable sneers, and which even in Mr. Burton's pages it is impossible to read in any other manner. "As if," says Hume," the testimony of man could ever be put in the balance with that of God himself, who conducted the pen of the inspired writers." And again, "Our most holy religion is founded in faith, not on reason; and it is a sure method of exposing it, to put it to such a trial as it is by no means fitted to endure." It would have been strange indeed if Whitefield and Erskine had made common cause with a man who held that the testimony of men was opposed to the truth of the miracles of our Saviour, or that our most holy religion was not fitted to endure the test of reason: and we do indeed marvel how such sentences, from such a pen as Hume's, should ever have been imagined by Mr. Burton to convey anything but the sneer which every line evinces.

But we gladly leave this topic, which, though important, is unpleasant, to resume the thread of the narrative. After the premature interment of his first literary infant, Hume retired once more to the paternal shades of Ninewells, to meditate fresh dreams of literary renown, and to forget if possible past disappointments. A correspondence with Francis Hutcheson, then in the zenith of his reputation, closes the history of the unfortunate "Treatise," and the next attempt we find made in the year 1741, in the shape of two anonymous volumes of "Essays Moral and Political." These were published in Edinburgh, and were very favourably received, so much so as to make the young author soon forget his former mortification. The Essays themselves are too well known to require further remark: they are strongly characteristic of the author. Of the Moral Essays we need not speak: but the Political branch of the work is welldeserving of notice, both from the views elucidated in them, and from their greater liberality of tone, as compared with the more mature, or rather more hardened views of the author of the History of England. We think Mr. Burton is not altogether accurate in underrating the prior writers on the English Constitution. To go no farther back, Bolingbroke, whatever in practice he might be, had a very thorough knowledge of the Constitution, and a fast hold of the principles of constitutional liberty. They are nowhere more soundly or elegantly expounded than in his Political Treatises. And even in the Craftsman, of which Mr. Burton speaks so slightingly-a work now little read or

known, there are political disquisitions replete with Constitutional knowledge, and forming, if we mistake not, part of those stores from which Fox drew his enlarged and comprehensive views of English freedom. But still, these Essays of Hume contain the germ of great and important principles of Government, with a certain prospective or prophetic character, striking out as it were, and laying bare the veins of political truth which have since been so ably worked. Here may be found the germs of those principles of political economy, and utilitarian government which Adam Smith and Bentham respectively afterwards raised into systems. Indeed, it would rather appear that Hume communicated to his friend Adam Smith some of the unused materials which he had collected for these Essays; and in this way. his sagacity and industry may have tended not a little to build up that throne on which Smith still reigns unapproached.

This period of Hume's life, which was the dawn of his celebrity, found him a poor but cheerful philosopher, with no settled occupation beyond following out his system, and enjoying and adding enjoyment to a pleasant circle of Scottish friends. Mr. Burton has given us a good many of his more familiar letters, written at this period to Mure of Caldwell, Oswald of Dunnikier, and other well-known Scottish characters of the period. His epistolary style is admirable,-playful, friendly, and free of restraint, with a vein of gentle courtesy throughout,-in short, the philosopher nowhere appears to more advantage than in the undress of his private correspondence. The following at a venture may be taken as a specimen :

"HUME to WILLIAM MURE of Caldwell.

"September 10.

"I made a pen, dipt it in ink, and set myself down in a posture of writing, before I had thought of any subject, or made provision of one single thought, by which I might entertain you. I trusted to my better genius that he would supply me in a case of such urgent necessity; but having thrice scratched my head, and thrice bit my nails, nothing presented itself, and I threw away my pen in great indignation. 6 O! thou instrument of dulness,' says I, 'doest thou desert me in my greatest necessity? and, being thyself so false a friend, hast thou a secret repugnance at expressing my friendship to the faithful Mure, who knows thee too well ever to trust to thy caprices, and who never takes thee in his hand without reluctance. While I, miserable wretch that I am, have put my chief confidence in thee; and, relinquishing the sword, the gown, the cassock, and the toilette, have trusted to thee alone for my fortune and my fame. Begone! avaunt! Return to the goose from whence thou camest. With her thou wast of some use, while thou conveyedst her through the ethereal regions. And why, alas! when plucked from her wing, and put into my hand, doest thou not recognise some similitude betwixt it and thy native

soil, and render me the same service, in aiding the flights of my heavy imagination?'

"Thus accused, the pen erected itself upon its point, placed itself betwixt my fingers and my thumb, and moved itself to and fro upon this paper, to inform you of the story, complain to you of my injustice, and desire your good offices to the reconciling such ancient friends. But not to speak nonsense any longer, (by which, however, I am glad I have already filled a page of paper,) I arrived here about three weeks ago, am in good health, and very deeply immersed in books and study. Tell your sister, Miss Betty, (after having made her my compliments,) that I am as grave as she imagines a philosopher should be-laugh only once a fortnight, sigh tenderly once a week, but look sullen every moment. In short, none of Ovid's metamorphoses ever showed so absolute a change from a human creature into a beast; I mean from a gallant into a philosopher.

"I doubt not but you see my Lord Glasgow very often, and therefore I shall suppose, when I write to one, I pay my respects to both. At least, I hope he will so far indulge my laziness. Hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim.

"Did you receive my letter from Glasgow? I hope it did not displease you. What are your resolutions with regard to that affair?

"Remember me to your sister, Miss Nancy, to Miss Dunlop, and to Mr. Leechman. Tell your mother, or sisters, or whoever is most concerned about the matter, that their cousin, John Steuart, is in England, and, as 'tis believed, will return with a great fortune.

"I say not a word of Mr. Hutcheson, for fear you should think I intend to run the whole circle of my West-country acquaintance, and to make you a bearer of a great many formal compliments. But I remember you all very kindly, and desire to be remembered by you, and to be spoke of sometimes, and to be wrote to."-Vol. i. pp. 153155.

It seems that in 1745 Hume made an unsuccessful attempt to obtain the Chair of Ethics, in the University of Edinburgh. It was thought, however, not unnaturally, that the author of the Treatise of Human Nature was not exactly the best exponent of ethics, or the safest guide for the rising generation; and the choice fell on Mr. William Cleghorn, who held it without at least alarming the orthodoxy of the public. Foiled in this, Hume's next occupation was a very singular one, and placed him in a position quite as extraordinary for a philosopher, and nearly as ridiculous, as when twenty years afterwards he found himself the rage at every beauty's toilet in Paris. It proved, however, no laughing matter for Hume at the time. The last Marquis of Annandale invited Hume to come and live with him in the capacity of companion. In point of fact his Lordship was insane, and his insanity took a literary turn, which probably suggested Hume as an appropriate appendage to his establishment. His predecessor in this singular office seems to have been a beau by profession, and his real master was a Captain Philip Vincent, who