110
“HUME, THE HISTORIAN,” The Friend; a Religious and Literary Journal, vol. 5, no. 38 (30 June 1832), pp. 299–300.
Anonymous
See selection #109 for an earlier anecdote from this same publication related to Hume’s death-bed. The passage quoted from Hume below is said to be “found at the conclusion of Mr. Hume’s Treatise on Human Nature.” More accurately, it is from the conclusion of Book 1 of that work’s three books. For the entire passage, and the broader context in which it is situated, see THN, pp. 172–3.
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HUME, THE HISTORIAN.
The following passage is found at the conclusion of Mr. Hume’s Treatise on Human Nature:
“Methinks I am like a man who, having struck on many shoals and narrowly escaped shipwreck in passing a small frith, has yet the temerity to put out to sea in the same leaky weather-beaten vessel, and even carried his ambition so far as to think of compassing the globe under these disadvantageous circumstances. My memory of past errors makes me diffident of future; the wretched condition, weakness, and disorder of the faculties I must employ in the inquiry, increase my apprehensions; the impossibility of correcting or amending these faculties reduces me almost to despair, and makes me resolve to perish on the barren rock upon which I am at present, rather than venture upon that boundless ocean which runs out into immensity. This sudden view of my danger strikes me with melancholy, and I cannot forbear feeding my despair with all those desponding reflections which the present subject furnishes me with in such abundance. I am first affrighted and confounded with that forlorn solitude in which I am placed in my philosophy, and fancy myself some uncouth strange monster, who, not being able to mingle and unite in society, has been expelled all human commerce, and left utterly abandoned and disconsolate. Fain would I run into the crowd for shelter and warmth, but cannot prevail with myself to mix with such deformity. I call upon others to join me, in order to make a company apart, but no one will hearken to me: every one shuns me, and keeps at a distance from that storm which beats upon me on every side: I have exposed myself to the enmity of all metaphysicians, logicians, mathematicians, and even theologians; and can I wonder at the insults I must suffer? — I have declared my disapprobation of their systems; and can I be surprised if they should express their dislike of mine, and even their hatred of my person? When I look abroad, I see on every side dispute, contradiction, anger, calumny, and detraction: when I turn my eye inward, I find nothing but doubt and ignorance. All the world conspires to opposed and contradict me, though such is my weakness I feel all my opinions loosen and fall of themselves, when unsupported by the approbation of others; every step I take is with hesitation, and every new reflection makes me dread an error and absurdity in my reasoning; for with what confidence can I venture on such bold enterprizes, when, besides those numberless infirmities peculiar to myself, I find so many which are common to human nature! The intense view of manifold contradictions and infirmities in human reason has so worked upon my brain, that I am ready to reject all belief and reasoning, and can look upon no opinion even as more probable or likely than any other. Where am I, or what? from what causes do I derive my existence, or to what condition shall I return? whose favour shall I court, and whose anger shall I dread? what beings surround me, and on whom have I any influence, or who have any influence on me? I am confounded by all these questions, and begin to fancy myself in the most deplorable condition imaginable, environed with the deepest darkness, and utterly deprived of the use of every member and faculty.”
And is this the fruit of those philosophical inquiries; this the only end to which the most penetrating intellect could employ its powers; this the result of his laborious speculations? It is, by the philosopher’s own confession. Surely it is not improbable that the death-bed of the man who wrote thus was wretched, whatever affectation of tranquility he may have assumed to disguise his real feelings, and however his pretended calm may have deceived his biographer. — Christian Observer.