A Letter to Adam Smith LL.D. on the Life, Death, and Philosophy of his friend David Hume Esq./Advertisement

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search

ADVERTISEMENT.

It is of no consequence, gentle Reader, to you, any more than it is to Dr. Smith, that you should know the name of the person, who now addresseth you. Your mind cannot be biassed, either way, by that, of which you remain ignorant. The remarks in the following pages are not therefore true, or false, because I made them; but I made them, because I thought them to be true. Read, consider, and determine for yourself. If you find no satisfaction, throw the book into the fire, regret (but with moderation, as becometh a philosopher) the loss of your shilling; and take care not to lose another, in the same manner. If, on the contrary, you should find satisfaction (and, it is humbly hoped, you will find a great deal) neglect not to communicate to others, what has thus been communicated to you. Speak handsomely of me, wherever you go, and introduce me to your kinsfolk and acquaintance. The enemies of Religion are awake; let not her friends sleep.

I intended a much longer work; but, like the learned editor of Mr. Hume's Life, am necessitated to "gratify," with all possible expedition, "the impatience of the public curiosity;" so eager is it to hear, what they, who believe in God, can possibly have to say for themselves. And if this will do the business, why should you be troubled with more? I am far from agreeing with Mr. Voltaire, in all his observations. But there is one, in which it is impossible to disagree with him. "I have said, and I abide by it," cries the little hero, "that the fault of most books is, their being too large." On reviewing what I have written, I really cannot see there is occasion to add another sentence.

Had I not chosen, for reasons best known to myself, thus to make my appearance incog. I would certainly have sate for my picture, and have tried to cast a look at my title page, as lively and good humoured, as that of Mr. Hume himself. My bookseller, indeed, told me, it would have been a much more creditable way of doing the thing; "and then, you know, Sir," said he, "we could have charged the other sixpence."