markable that here his labours ceased. Whether from policy, a sense of insecurity, or a fear of losing his temper, he avoided controversy in society, and made a rule not to answer those who replied to him even through the press. He never spoke in private society of his peculiar opinions, though he considered them very important. The condition of his intercourse with clerical friends was, that they were to be silent on the subject of religion. So little did many apprehend from the society of Hume, that we are informed he was a great favourite with ladies and children, and that he never attempted to bias their views in favour of his own. Some may think this a creditable course, savouring of the calm and impartial. We humbly apprehend that it is treachery to truth, showing that the party has no just impressions of the obligations of truth, and very imperfectly believes what he professes to hold as true-at least is prepared to make no sacrifice of ease and social comfort and worldly friendship in its behalf. What a contrast to the inspired propagators of truth!-to the spirit and conduct of Him who is emphatically The Truth! Was the man who held truth so lightly, and was prepared to suffer so little in its behalf, warranted to rob others of their faith in a truth which animated its holders, where necessary, to submit to the loss of all things? An anecdote is related, not by Hume's present biographer, but by an authority which seems unqestionable (Dr. Gregory)—that on the philosopher being asked whether, if he had a wife or daughter, he would wish them to be his disciples, he replied, No; I believe scepticism may be too sturdy a virtue for a woman."

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Is this like truth, and the highest truth, to be limited to men, and it may be only a small part of them? How unlike to revealed truth on the same subjects, which is thrown open to all! and how are Hume's poor narrow views of truth in connection with woman rebuked by the fact, that the female sex are the very parties who have stood undauntedly and to the last in defence of persecuted truth! What a contrast their courage to the philosopher's timidity! How they might act under the influence of Infidelity is another question. Thus have we seen that Hume indicates a low moral sense in regard to the claims of truth in general; and that this is apparent in his carelessness in asserting the truth, his cowardice in fully unfolding it, and his want of zeal and courage in propagating it.

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need we be surprised that he was unfaithful to his fellow-men in many forms?

An ordinary sense of honour and justice, we think, should have led a man denying and hating revelation, and maintaining the principles of Infidelity and Atheism, to have abstained from any interference with the appointments of the Christian Church.

Plainly these were beyond his province. Common propriety should have dictated this; but no. Hume had no moral scruples. Through friends he actively exercised patronage in the Church of Scotland, the Church of Ireland, and the Church of Rome in France. However striking an illustration the fact may afford of the absurdity of Church patronage, it also furnishes a striking proof of Hume's low moral sense in transactions between man and man. If the current belief be correct, and there is nothing in the "Life" to contradict, but rather confirm it, that he at one time contemplated an Irish bishopric for himself, as the reward of his political and literary services, the circumstance would only bring out his wretched morality in a still more impressive form. In keeping with this low moral feeling in regard to Church patronage, if not a serious aggravation passing into direct hypocrisy, it may be added, that Hume (at least during the two years he resided in France in the later period of his life) regularly attended the ambassador's chapel; in other words, professedly joined in Protestant worship, while all the time a thorough unbeliever! nay, that when in Scotland he kept seats in church for his servants, and called them to account for supposed absence! How can this conduct be denominated? Surely by no other term save hypocrisy. Could an honest or an honourable man in his dealings with his fellow-men have acted in this manner? Then what a want of truth was there in his confounding true Christianity with Popery, though he could not but know that intelligent Christians held the one to be a gross corruption of the other!-in speaking, in his Essay on Miracles, of "our holy religion," &c., leaving his reader to suppose that he was a Christian, and so throwing the reader the more effectually off his guard!--and in writing a review of the work of Henry the historian, in the course of which he takes occasion to praise Robertson and Blair as pillars of Christianity, and speaks of Infidelity with concern, as a Christian would be supposed to speak of it! What gross insincerity and hypocrisy must have been here!

Descending from religion proper to the more ordinary transactions of man with man, we mark the same absence of strict truth and honesty. He deals in the grossest flattery of Madame Boufflers, of which a philosopher of sense might well have been ashamed. According to his friend Robertson, he wrote the Anglo-Saxon period of his History slightly and superficially, because it was paid for before it was composed

greater pains should have been bestowed upon it; and in regard to the History as a whole, apart from the mere influence of prejudice, from which none are altogether free, it may safely be pronounced a monument of unfairness and dishonesty, full of injustice to the principles and character of many. Gilbert Stuart,

in his "View of the Society of Europe," speaks of the " many gross and wilful errors of Hume," and points some of them out. Lord Gardenstone, in his Critical Remarks on Eminent Historians," says of Hume," It was his misfortune to despise accuracy of research, and fidelity of citation; while detection flashed in his face, he commonly adhered to whatever he had once written. He sometimes asserts a positive untruth, contradicted by the very authorities whom he pretends himself to be quoting, but more commonly gains his purpose by suppressing the whole evidence on the opposite side of the question." The Rev. Dr. M'Queen, one of the ministers of Edinburgh, eminent as a scholar as well as a divine, exposed, at the moment of publication, the dishonesty and injustice of the Infidel historian, in a series of admirable "Letters;" while in later times, Mr. Brodie, the present historiographer for Scotland, has made a most searching exposure in his "History of the British Empire"-an exposure which we are glad to learn he means to continue. Indeed, it is a happy arrangement in providence, that the same Infidel pen which was so unjust to religious men, was not more merciful to the friends of civil liberty. Hence, all who sympathize with the former obtain the benefit of the defensive labour of the latter. But we need not appeal to authorities; the careless dishonesty of Hume is apparent from statements of the biographer, and his own letters, now published. Not only was he averse to the study of British law-a study which was essential to the correctness of his statements and conclusions-but where furnished with valuable materials, as in the Memoirs of James II., written by himself, he made the most meagre and inadequate use of them. Was this the spirit of a man who really loved honesty and uprightness? Lord Brougham, in his memoir of Hume, attempts to apologize for him, by saying that he wrote too hastily. This may be true as a fact, but it is no real excuse. Why write in a haste inconsistent with doing justice to the parties more immediately concerned? He was not pressed by penury. Does this not of itself discover a low sense of what was due to truth? He could be slow and elaborate when it suited his humour. He kept back his Dialogue on Natural Religion for thirty years, and even in his History there are ample evidences of care and elaboration as respects the style. Why in such haste about the more important materials? Moreover, rapidity in composition is not always inconsistent with the claims of justice and truth. Some of the writings of his brother Infidel Voltaire, were written in as great haste as Hume's History, but not interfering with his prejudices, are not open to the same charges.

The crowning proof, however, of Hume's utter want of truth and justice between man and man remains to be noticed, and that is a private letter only partially and reluctantly quoted by Lord Brougham, but now published at length, which consists of A DELIBERATE AND LABOURED DEFENCE OF LYING. With all the laxity of his moral principles, few, perhaps, would have been prepared for such an exhibition. It is in perfect harmony,

however, with the facts which we have been stating, as well as his own system. Applying in behalf of an Infidel friend for an appointment in the Church of England, Hume, not in the folly of youth, or the weakness of age, but at fifty-three, a season of maturity and vigour, thus attempts to vindicate, or rather state, the case :

Addressing Colonel Edmonstone in 1764, he says: "What! do you know that Lord Bute is again allpowerful, or rather that he was always so, but is now acknowledged for such by all the world? Let this be a new motive for Mr. V- to adhere to the ecclesiastical profession, in which he may have so good a patron; for civil employments for men of letters can scarcely be found; all is occupied by men of business, or by Parliamentary interest. 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? If the thing were worthy being treated gravely, I should tell him that the Pythian oracle, with the approbation of Zenophon, advised every one to worship the gods. I wish it were still in my power to be a hypocrite in this particular. The common duties of society usually require it; and the ecclesiastical profession only adds a little more to an innocent dissimulation, or rather simulation, without which it is impossible to pass through the world. Am I a liar, because I order my servant to say I am not at home, when I do not desire to see company?"

Of course, by "the vulgar and their superstition," we are to understand Christians and Christianity. Philosophers put too great respect upon them, by being sincere! They are fair game, and lying and falsehood are good enough for them. What a miserable exhibition of boasted philosophy! Hume wishes it were still in his own power to be a hypocrite that is, if he could make money by his hypocrisy. Unhappy man! wretched master of logic as well as of morals. "Did ever one," says he, "make it a point of honour to speak truth to children and madmen ?” Yes, thousands and tens of thousands of better men than David Hume, have felt it a point of conscience as well as honour; and experience has proclaimed that they were right, that it is the only successful way of treating either. No guardian even of the insane can dispense with truth. The attempt to do so has been found a fatal error in medicine as well as morals. Such was Hume in the commonplace morality which presides over the dealings of man with man. What a humiliating picture of character does he present! And this is the person to denounce patriarchs, and prophets, and apostles, reformers and martyrs-men who loved truth, who exemplified it in their own persons, and who, when called by principle, cheerfully sacrificed life in its behalf.

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3. But there is still another illustration of Hume's low moral sense. We refer to the light views which he entertained of conjugal infidelity. He speaks “of the monkish virtues of mortification, penance, humility, and passive suffering," thus insidiously classing the Christian virtues of mortification of sin, and hu- |

mility, and resignation, with penance, and denouncing them as monkish; and not contented with giving an indirect loosening to the passions, he speaks of adultery in the lightest, and therefore the most atrocious, terms. Dr. Beattie has given the substance of his sentiments in the well-known statement: "That adultery must be practised if men would obtain all the advantages of life; that, if generally practised, it would in time cease to be scandalous; and that, if practised secretly and frequently, it would by degrees come to be thought no crime at all." Marvellous to tell, Hume described the work in which adultery is thus spoken of-viz., his "Essay Concerning the Principles of Morals"-"as, of all my writings, historical, philosophical, and literary, incomparably the best."

Nor were these awful sentiments-so destructive to the law both of God and of man-such an outrage on decent society-a mere monstrous theory: Hume acted upon them in his intercourse with men. He treated his French friends and admirers, living in open immorality, with the greatest respect. He never whispered a word of dissatisfaction at their conduct; nay, at the mature age of fifty-three, he entered into a warm and protracted correspondence with Madam de Boufflers, who had been living for years, and was living at that time, in undisguised adultery with the Prince of Conti. On the death of her husband, Hume laboured to prevail upon the prince to acknowledge her as his wife; not from any detestation of the crime, but that she might be raised to "a station suitable to her merit ;" and on being unsuccessful, he tells us that he was more agitated by the various turns of this affair, than by "almost any event in which I was ever engaged." So deep was the interest which he felt in an unblushing woman. And this was not a solitary case. His biographer admits that many of the literary society of France, in which Hume bore a part, were thorough profligates; and that, morally considered, the state of things was hideous, and yet, that the actors were insensible to its hideousness. To refer to one or two individual instances. D'Alembert, the philosopher, was a great favourite of Hume's, so much so that the latter left him a legacy of £200, and describes him thus: "In a word, I scarce know a man who, with some few exceptions (for there must always be some exceptions), is a better model of a virtuous and philosophical character." Yet this very man was living in open immorality. This was Hume not the only case; Diderot was another. expressly mentions him among those whose person and conversation he liked best; and yet, what is the account of him which is given in the Edinburgh Review of 1813, apparently by the present Lord Jeffrey? He tells us that he cannot read his writings without a portion of disgust-that there is a tone of blackguardism, indelicacy, and profanity, quite shocking. He adds (and this includes all Hume's French friends): The whole tribe of French writers who have had any pretensions to philosophy for the last seventy years, are infected with a species of indelicacy which is peculiar, we think, to their nation, * Essay on Truth, part ii., ch. 1.

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and strikes us as more shameful and offensive than any other."

It is not necessary to refer to Rousseau, as he could not be reckoned among Hume's friends, a bitter quarrel having hopelessly separated them. It may only be noticed, that it was not Rousseau's notorious profligacy which repelled Hume that in the midst of this the Scottish philosopher could say: "I am sensible that my connections with him add to my importance at present"-but other causes. It may be added, that the prodigious influence which this man's writings exerted in France, and the popular worship in which he was held by all classes, form a striking proof of the moral hideousness of French society at the time.

From this table several very valuable points of information are gained. The thought has probably arisen in the mind of every liberal student, "Is there not reason to apprehend that the account of creation and of the early events in the history of the world, such as the garden of Eden, the temptation, fall and expulsion of our first parents, &c., would be greatly corrupted | by passing through so many generations, when there were no letters to perpetuate a historical event? Would not the imaginations of men, and the love of the marvellous, intermingle much of fancy with truth, in the account transmitted to subsequent generations?"

This sceptical suggestion arises from the idea that the story must have passed through many narrators, and that few opportunities of com. paring and correcting one account by another were enjoyed. Look at the table as illustrating these points.

1. And first, the number of times that the story must be repeated by different persons. Noah and his three sons could receive the account of creation at the second rehearsal, and that through several distinct channels. 1. Adam could relate it to Enos for 695 years, and Enos to Noah for eighty-four years. Or, 2. Adam, during 605 years, could discourse of it to Cainaan, and Cainaan 179 years to Noah. Again, 3. Adam could rehearse it for 535 years to Mahalaleel, and Mahalaleel for 224 years to Noah. 4. Adam had 470 years to instruct Jared in those sublime facts, and Jared was contemporary 366 years with Noah. Through these four distinct channels Noah could receive a direct account from Adam. But again, 5. Adam lived till Methuselah was 243 years old, time enough surely to obtain an accurate knowledge of all those facts pertaining to the dawn of created existence; and Methuselah lived 600 years with Noah, and 100 with his three sons. And once more, 6. Adam lived to see Lamech, the father of Noah, till he was fifty-six years old, and Lamech lived with Noah 595 years, and ninety-five years with Shem, Ham, and Japheth. Through these six channels the account could be brought down to the time of the flood.

Now the directness of this communication is the same as the following. My grandfather was a sergeant in the revolutionary war, and was wounded in the arm by a musket ball. How do I know that, seeing he died before my birth? He related it to his children, among whom was my mother, and she to me. He was contemporary thirty years with her, and she twenty-five years with me, and that fact is as well established, distinct, and certain to my mind as any recorded in history. Precisely such was the directness of Noah and his sons' information relative to creation; and at the same time the certainty of accuracy was increased by much longer periods of contemporary life, and a sixfold chain of testimony.

2. This table shows how many opportunities there were of comparing and correcting different accounts. The perpendicular column of names shows how many were contemporary with generations before them, and the figures in the horizontal line denote the number of years common to both. Thus, Jared was contemporary with Adam 470 years, with Seth 582, Enos 680, Cainaan 775, Mahalaleel $30, and with himself 962. The horizontal column of names, and the perpendicular line of figures under them, show the generations after them with which each was contemporary, and the length of time. Thus take the name Jared over the perpendicular line of figures, and follow it down, and he will be found to have lived with his son Enoch 365 years, and survived him, with Enoch's son Methuselah 735 years, with Lamech 548, and Noah 366.

These two combined, show the whole number of generations with which each was contemporary. Thus, Adam was contemporary with none before him, but all after him down to Lamech. Again, take the horizontal name Methuselah, and trace it along the horizontal line of figures, and you find him contemporary with all before him, till you come to himself; then turn down the column under his name, and he is contemporary with all after him down to the very year of the flood, being 100 years with Shem and his brothers.

In this way it will be found that all the generations from Adam to the flood were eleven. Of all these Adam was contemporary with nine, Seth with nine, Enos ten, Cainaan ten, Mahalaleel ten, Jared ten, Enoch nine, Methuselah eleven, Lamech eleven, Noah eight, Shem and brothers four. Thus there were never less than nine contemporary generations from Adam to the flood, which would give, in one lineal descent, eighty-one different channels, through which the account might be transmitted.

3. Another important point illustrated by this table, is the occurrence of the flood at the precise time, and the only time, when it could have occurred, without contradicting the sacred history, and the chronological account. The reason assigned in sacred history for the deluge, was the great wickedness of men, for which all were to be destroyed, except Noah and his family. Now, if the flood had occurred ten years sooner than it did, it would have involved Methuselah and Lamech in the destruction of the wicked; for the former lived to the very year of the flood, A.M. 1656, and the latter within five years of it, A.M. 1651. And again it would have involved a contradiction; for if the ark had been completed in fifty instead of 100 years, and the age of Methuselah and Lamech had been given as it is, it would have brought their death fifty years after the flood! And there is not one year from the creation, at which the date of the flood could have been fixed without involving such a con

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porary with every generation after him down to Abram; Shem down to Jacob; and Arphaxad down to Isaac; Salah and Eber again down to Jacob, and probably Eber to the twelve sons of Jacob.

Every one disposed to do so, can trace the same facts in regard to the manifold channels of communication from the flood to Abram, Isaac, and Jacob, as we found from the creation to the flood. We will only notice here the whole chain from Adam to the fathers of the Hebrews. Three narrations only were necessary to bring the account of creation to those fathers; and a part of the cords entwined in this " cable strong," may be seen from the following collation:

Three narrations bring the account to the time when minute and particular history commences; and when the art of inscribing upon papyrus, and probably upon parchment, was understood. The participators in the awful scenes of the flood lived to see the Pharaohs, the pyramids and obelisks of Egypt, and probably to have those scenes stereotyped on monuments and in hieroglyphics which have come down to us. So that we have the account, in a manner, second-handed from Shem.

We here leave this interesting field of observation to be pursued by the intelligent Christian at his leisure.

Anno Mundi.

Born. Died. Age.

1056 2006 950

438

600

1849 1997

1819 2049

1787 2026 239

1757 1916 209

1723 2187 464

1693 2126 433
1658 2096
1556 2156,

230

148

1948 2123 175

1878 2124 205

striking and instructive. Who ever imagined, without making the comparison, that Noah lived to see Abram sixty years old, and that Shem lived to witness all the glorious things transacted between God and Abram, and finally to see him buried and to unite in the general mourning for the father of the faithful! Who would have supposed that Abram lived his whole lifetime, Isaac for 108 years, and Jacob for forty-eight years, with those who for 100 years of their early life witnessed and assisted in the building of the ark; who were borne triumphantly in it through the swelling flood, saw the opening heavens, felt the heaving earth when its deep foundations were broken up, and heard the groan of a perishing world! Yet such was the fact, as will be seen by comparing births and deaths in the second table. Noah was contem

CHRIST CURSING THE BARREN
FIG TREE.

"And on the morrow, when they were come from Bethany, he was hungry: and seeing a fig tree afar off having leaves, he came, if haply he might find anything thereon: and when he came to it, he found nothing but leaves: for the time of figs was not yet. And Jesus answered and said unto it, No man eat fruit of thee hereafter for ever."-MARK XI. 12-14.

IT appears somewhat strange, that our Lord should have expected to find fruit on this fig tree at a season which is expressly affirmed not to have been the time of figs; and still more so, that he should have blighted it for ever for not having what, by the very constitution of nature, it was prevented from possessing. Many suppositions and conjectures have been made to account for this, or at least to take off a little of its seeming contradiction to truth and propriety. To say nothing of some attempts at explanation which carry their own refutation along with them, we have been told of certain fig trees which are always green with leaves, and have also a kind of perennial fruit, for the old and new hang on it together at the same time (Whitby); but, unfortunately, no such fig trees