"I was sanguine in my expectation of success. I thought I was the only historian that had at once neglected present power, interest, and authority, and the cry of popular prejudices." (I. 414.) "I may be liable to the reproach of ignorance, but I am certain of escaping that of partiality." (I. 381.) "I have finished the reigns of James and Charles, and have the impudence to pretend that I am of no party, and have no bias." (I. 387.)

But how tame is all this absurdity when compared with the delirious rhapsody of Madame de Boufflers!

"You, sir, are an admirable painter. Your pictures have a grace, a nature, an energy, which surpass even what the imagination can pourtray. But how shall I be able to express the effect produced upon me by your divine impartiality. In truth I believed I had before my eyes the work of some celestial being, free from the passions of humanity, who for the benefit of the race, has deigned to write the events of these latter times." (II. 96.)

When we have noticed Hume's character as a man, we shall withdraw him. It is common to raise him in this aspect to even more than an average level, and to make him out a highly reputable gentleman. We believe such an estimate is very much the concession of thoughtless latitudinarianism, and a few extracts will shew, at all events, that it is exaggerated.

"The chastity of women, which, from the necessity of human affairs, has been in all ages and countries an extravagant point of honour, is run into greater extravagance, that none of the sexes may be exempt from this fantastic ornament." "It is putting too great a respect on the vulgar and on their superstitions to pique one's-self on sincerity with regard to them. Did ever one make it a point of honour to speak truth to children or madmen? The Pythian oracle advised every one to worship the gods after the manner of his city. I wish it were in my power to be still a hypocrite in this particular. The common duties of society require it, and the ecclesiastical profession only adds a little more to an innocent dissimulation." (II. 187.)

An unblushing dissembler he went to church at Paris, and even in Edinburgh.

"I never see Wickes here but at chapel, where he is a most regular, pious, devout, and edifying attendant. I take him to be entirely regenerate." (II. 202.) "It is even believed by some that he conformed to Popery for a season." (II. 8.) "Never did a man express a more steady contempt of life, than Major Forbes, as he was dying by his own act. He begged of me to unloosen his bandage and hasten his death, as the last act of friendship. But, alas! we live not in Greek or Roman times.” (I. 216.)

Then let us see how he valued men and estimated character.

And first he writes thus of Rousseau, a man replete with all that was vile:

"I regret being absent from London, which deprives me of the opportunity of showing in person my esteem, I had almost said my veneration, for the virtue and genius of Rousseau." (II. 108.)

D'Alembert lived in fornication with a lady in Paris, and not only did Hume visit him as a friend, he writes:

"The men of letters, among whom is D'Alembert, live in entire harmony among themselves, and quite irreproachable in their morals." (II. 181.)

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And it is in this strain he writes to Madame de Boufflers, the mistress of the Prince of Conti, though married to another:"You have saved me from a total indifference towards every thing in human life." "Alas! why am I not so near you, that I could see you for half an hour a day." My sympathy is not abated by absence. I find myself incapable of almost any other occupation or amusement." "If I could dispose of my fate, nothing could be so much my choice, as to live where I might cultivate your friendship. Your taste for travelling might also afford you a plausible pretence. A journey to Italy would loosen your connexions, and if it were delayed sometime, I could expect to have the felicity of attending you." Might we not settle in some Greek island and breathe the air of Homer or Anacreon." (I. 114-247.

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Certainly the individual who could govern his conduct by maxims such as we have quoted, could cherish the friendships to which we have adverted, and could allow himself to address the wife of another in the heated strains of a lover's flattery, has little on which to found his pretensions either to discretion or virtue, and certainly he has no title to read lectures to the world, as from a chair of etherial purity. Perhaps he spoke more loosely than he acted, and tolerated in others what he did not allow to himself. And

this we are disposed to believe is the truth. But a man may be all the more pernicious, if his own life be on the right side of decorum, whilst his speculations and patronage are liberally extended to the cause of licentiousness. And this is what we charge Hume with having done, to an extent that none has ever surpassed. We accuse him not of having actually violated the statutes of social morality in his own person, but he did that which is tantamount," he took pleasure in them who did," and taught others to do the same. For himself, it would seem as if he were devoid of those impulses that lead to excess, and the very insensibility of his impassive nature kept him from worthless profligacy of habit. Notwithstanding, he hated the restraints of purity and the demands of holiness, he delighted in the company of the vicious, and cheered the evil in their guilt. No sooner did Rousseau

return kindness with insult, than he repelled him with boundless hatred, but so long as the Genevese lunatic bowed at his nod, he could laugh at all his filthiness. Nor was he rigidly scrupulous in the things which are honest, when it suited himself, for the very man who denounced the saints as hypocrites, was ready on two occasions to mount into a professors chair, by the signature of a creed, every article of which he detested, as much as he disbelived. The society too, which he kept in France, though refined, was Epicurean to the last extreme, and he, who, in his passionless torpor might himself refrain from what was illicit, spent all his hours with adulterers and adulteresses. And what he patronized he vindicated, for his "Essays" inspired amid the saloons of Paris, are calculated for the voluptuous bowers of Constantinople in respect of the morality they teach.

Still we do not deny that for an infidel, Hume was respectable. His virtue was not so much a quality of the heart, as a habit of his training, it was stoicism rather than principle, it was negative, not robust and cordial. Nevertheless, he stands out in conspicuous contrast from most other unbelievers, as decent upon the whole. And is it not well, that there is nothing gross in his character to bias our judgment of his doctrine? In the case of Voltaire, so like a fiend, and of Rousseau, so truly a beast, we are apt to transfer the baseness of the man to his philosophy, and to detest the system, because we detest its author. Such a process of reasoning is not wholly to be discarded; for it is a short formula by which in many cases error is detected-it suits the general mind-and though scarcely logical, it will not often mislead. Certainly, however, it is more becoming men and Christians, to judge infidelity apart from the infidel; and were our intellectual conclusions more uniformly combined with our moral tastes, we would occupy a firmer basis, and discharge our shafts from a more commanding height.

We do think it, therefore, no small advantage that we possess in the instance of Hume, that we need not trace his unbelief to licentiousness, and so all our antipathy is directed not against the profligate, but the profane man. In condemning an opinion because of the practice with which it is associated, our judgment loses half its value as aimed partly at error, and partly at sin. But in reviewing Hume's unbelief, God asks us exclusively what think you of error? And he would wish us to show, that even though allied to what is virtuous, error is itself to be the object of our indignant protest. It is easy to hate infidelity, when seen in company with the blasphemy of Payne, or the wickedness of Owen. But the sifting test is to hate it though seen in union with all the superior qualities of Hume. To recoil from infidelity,

as the high-way to crime, is after all, but prudence. To shrink from infidelity as involving error, is homage to the God of truth.

On this ground we are not careful to impugn what Mr Burton has said of Hume's death-bed. There is more reason than Mr B. will admit, to suspect that it was not in Hume's power to retain his composure, as the anxious shadows of eternity fell around him. To Smith and Ferguson, he might exhibit all gaiety and playfulness. But there were seasons when he was left without these friends, and then, if rumours not wholly unworthy of credit, may be relied on, foreboding took hold upon him, and the proud spirit was without help.

But allowing that Hume died serenely, what is this but another trial of our views, as to what unbelief really is. God, as it were, says be not shocked with infidelity, as identical with a sinful life-do not be appalled by infidelity, as identical with the anguish of a death-bed. But irrespective of all its accessaries, try it, judge it, condemn it, hate it. Voltaire, with the flashing terrors of his end, is enough to scare even the most desperate from his path. But it is a snare and a stumblingblock into which many who were willing have fallen, and more will yet fall, that Hume having lived as an idfidel, died even as a Christian might wish to die!

In reading those passages, which we are about to quote, and they refer to his early days, we have again and again asked, is the finger of the Highest not here-is not this the conviction of Him that will have all men to be saved-and may it not be, that Hume is but a solemn instance of one who quenched the Holy Ghost?

"It is a weakness rather than a lowness of spirits which troubles me, and there seems to be as great a difference betwixt my distemper and common vapours, as betwixt common vapours and madness. I have noticed in the writings of the French mystics, and in those of our fanatics here, that when they give a history of the situation of their souls, they mention a coldness and desertion of the spirit which frequently returns, and some of them, at the beginning, have been tormented with it many years. I have often thought that their case and mine were pretty parallel. But I have not come out of the cloud so well as they commonly tell us they have done or rather I begin to despair of ever recovering." (I. 36, 37).

May not Hume be an illustration of what Halyburton would have been, had he stood out against the voice from heaven? And can we not see in Halyburton, what Hume would have become, had he bowed to the God of our salvation?

We leave David Hume with a tear of pity-convinced that

had he followed after truth, with the same avidity and devotedness he evinced in the pursuit of fame, he would have done something worthier of a soul, than but leave a lurid streak of glory on the firmament over which he passed. He might have been honoured amongst his fellows to a good old age, and now might have he been looking down from a high throne on a nation that he had established in righteousness.

ART. VI.-A Sermon, preached in Morningside Free Church, June 6, 1847, being the Sabbath immediately after the funeral of Thomas Chalmers, D.D., LL.D., &c., &c., &c. By the REV. JOHN BRUCE, A.M., Free St Andrew's Church, Edinburgh.

In

On the morning of Monday the 31st of May there died, and on the afternoon of Friday the 4th of June, there was buried, the greatest and most noted man in Scotland. It is nearly three centuries since she knew one equally great and honoured,one more revered when living, more mourned when gone. love to Scotland God gave her Knox; and when his work was done, He gave him a peaceful death-bed, an honoured tomb, and a place in the memory of every true Scottish heart for many generations. In love to Scotland, in these later days, God raised up Chalmers to do a mighty work and wage a glorious warfare; and when his work was ended, He gave him as calm a dismissal, as hallowed a grave, and as deep a place in the heart of his country -in the memory of his race.

Over neither do we sorrow as those who have no hope. They are not dead, they have but entered on their better life; they have not withered up and passed away, they are putting on new blossoms in a more genial clime, preparing for the day of the great fruit-bearing, when the resurrection-sun shall rise. They rest from their labours, and their works do follow them. What a meeting must that have been which has now taken place between these two mighty souls!-what a fellowship must that be which is now enjoyed as they sit together under the shade of the tree of life, or climb the bright slopes of the everlasting hills! For ever with each other, and for ever with the Lord.

Summoned away at midnight and in a moment, Dr Chalmers has left us no death-bed testimony, has bequeathed us no parting counsels. But his counsels had been fully spoken and written long before; and his whole life was one grand testimony. What a testimony! From the day that he knew the grace of God in truth, his life became a consecrated thing,-himself a "living