cal; that is, while he does not deny the immateriality of the soul, he endeavours to show that the mind can form no certain conception of the immaterial soul. Refining on the argument of a reasoning poet, who probably was not aware of the full meaning of his own words when he said—
——"Of God above, or man below,
What can we reason, but from what we know,"
the author of the treatise on Human Nature maintained that the mere succession of impressions, of which the mind was composed, admitted of no such impression as that of the immateriality of the soul, and consequently did not admit of the mind comprehending in what that immateriality consisted. Let it be remembered, that this conclusion is come to in the same manner as that against the consciousness of the mind to the existence of matter; and that in neither case does the author maintain certain opinions which men believe to be less certain than they are generally conceived to be, but gives to them a name different from that which language generally bestows on them—that of masses of probabilities, instead of certainties,—the latter being a term he reserves solely for the impressions of the senses. "Should it here be asked me," says the author, "whether I sincerely assent to this argument, which I seem to take such pains to inculcate, and whether I be really one of those sceptics, who hold that all is uncertain, and that our judgment is not in any thing, possessed of any measures of truth and falsehood; I should reply, that this question is entirely superfluous, and that neither I, nor any other person, was ever sincerely and constantly of that opinion. Nature, by an absolute and uncontrollable necessity, has determined us to judge as well as to breathe and feel; nor can we any more forbear viewing certain objects in a stronger and fuller light, upon account of their customary connexion with a present impression, than we can hinder ourselves from thinking, as long as we are awake, or seeing the surrounding bodies, when we turn our eyes towards them in broad sunshine. Whoever has taken the pains to refute the cavils of this total scepticism, has really disputed without an antagonist, and endeavoured by arguments to establish a faculty which nature has antecedently implanted in the mind, and rendered unavoidable."[1] With this extremely clear statement, which shows us, that while Hume had a method of accounting for the sources of our knowledge differing from the theories of other philosophers, in the abstract certainty which he admitted to pertain to any knowledge beyond the existence of an impression, his belief in the ordinary admitted sources of human knowledge was not less practically strong than that of other people,—let us connect the concluding words on the chapter on the immortality of the soul: "There is no foundation for any conclusion a priori, either concerning the operations or duration of any object, of which 'tis possible for the human mind to form a conception. Any object may be imagined to become entirely inactive, or to be annihilated in a moment: and 'tis an evident principle, that whatever we can imagine is possible. Now this is no more true of matter than of spirit—of an extended compounded substance, than of a simple and unextended. In both cases the metaphysical arguments for the immortality of the soul are equally inconclusive; and in both cases the moral arguments, and those derived from the analogy of nature, are equally strong and convincing. If my philosophy, therefore, makes no addition to the arguments for religion, I have at least the satisfaction to think it takes nothing from them, but that every thing remains precisely as before."[2] Without pretending to calculate the ultimate direction of the philosophy of Hume, as it regards revealed religion, let us repeat the remark, that many persons
