scourged by the oppressor; whom nothing but trust in Providence, and the hope of a future retribution, can preserve from the agonies of despair. And do they, with sacrilegious hands, attempt to violate this last refuge of the miserable, and to rob them of the only comfort that had survived the ravages of misfortune, malice, and tyranny? Did it ever happen, that the influence of their execrable tenets, disturbed the tranquillity of virtuous retirement, deepened the gloom of human distress, or aggravated the horrors of the grave? Is it possible, that this may have happened in one single instance? Ye traitors to human kind, ye murderers of the human soul, how can ye answer for it to your own hearts? Surely, every spark of your generosity is extinguished for ever, if this consideration do not awaken in you the keenest remorse, and make you wish, in bitterness of soul,-But I remonstrate in vain. All this must have often occurred to you, and been as often rejected as utterly frivolous. Could I enforce the present topic by an appeal to your vanity, I might possibly make some impression. But to plead with you on the principles of benevolence or generosity, is to address you in a language which you do not, or you will not understand; and as to the shame of being convicted of absurdity, ignorance, or want of candour, you have long ago proved yourselves superior to the sense of it.-But let not the lovers of truth be discouraged. The fashion of sceptical and metaphysical systems passes away. Those unnatural productions, the vile effusion of a hard and stupid heart, that mistakes its own restlessness for the activity of genius, and its own captiousness for sagacity of understanding, may, like other monsters, please awhile by their singularity: but the charm is soon over; and the succeeding age will be

astonished to hear, that their forefathers were deluded, or amused, with such fooleries."

You, sir, have read the preceding paragraph before; but this letter may come into the hands of many, who have not. It is the alarum bell to the admirers of Mr. Hume; and it should be rung in their ears, till succeeded by the last trumpet.

And now, sir, will you give me leave to ask you few questions? Why all this hurry and bustle, this eagerness to gratify the pretended "impatience of the public," and satisfy it, that our philosopher lived and died perfectly composed and easy? Was there, then, any suspicion, in Scotland, that he might not, at times, be quite composed and easy? Was there any particular book ever written against him, that shook his system to pieces about his ears, and reduced it to a heap of ruins, the success and eclat of which might be supposed to have hurt his mind, and to have affected his health*? Was there any author, whose name his friends never durst mention before him, and warned all strangers, who were introduced to him, against doing it, because he never failed, when by any accident it was done, to fly into a transport of passion and swearing? Was it deemed necessary, or expedient, on this account, that he should represent himself, and that you should represent him, perfectly secure of the growth and increase of his philosophic reputation, as if no book had been written, which had impaired it; judging it much easier to dissemble the fall of Dagon, than to "set him upon his stumps again?" I am a South

Dr. Beattie's Essay on Truth.-At the very period when Hume is reported to have been in the utmost tranquillity of spirits, none of his friends could venture to mention Dr. Beattie in his presence.

Briton, and, consequently, not acquainted with what passes so far in the opposite quarter. You, sir, can inform us how these things are; and likewise, when the great work of benevolence and charity, of wisdom and virtue, shall be crowned by the publication of a treatise designed to prove the "soul's mortality," and another, to justify and recommend "self-murder."

Upon the whole, doctor, I think you will not succeed this time. You would persuade us, by the example of David Hume, esq. that atheism is the only cordial for low spirits, and the proper antidote against the fear of death. But, surely, he who can reflect, with compla cency, on a friend thus misemploying his talents in his life, and then amusing himself with Lucian, whist, and Charon, at his death, may smile over Babylon in ruins; esteem the earthquake which destroyed Lisbon, an agree able occurrence; and congratulate the hardened Pharaoh, on his overthrow in the Red sea. Drollery in such cir cumstances, is neither more nor less than

Moody madness, laughing wild,

Amid severest wo.

Would we know the baneful and pestilential influences of false philosophy on the human heart? We need only contemplate them in this most deplorable instance of Mr. Hume.

These sayings, sir, may appear harsh; but they are salutary. And if departed spirits have any knowledge of what is passing upon earth, that person will be regarded by your friend as rendering him the greatest service, who, by energy of expression, and warmth of exhortation, shall most contribute to prevent his writings from producing those effects upon mankind, which he no longer wishes they should produce.

By way of contrast to the behaviour of Mr. Hume at the close of a life, passed without God in the world, permit me, sir, to lay before you, the last sentiments of the truly learned, judicious, and admirable Hooker, who had spent his days in the service of his Maker and Re deemer.

After this manner spoke the author of the "Ecclesiastical Polity," immediately before he expired: “I have lived to see, that this world is made up of perturbations; and I have been long preparing to leave it, and gathering comfort for the awful hour of making my account with God, which I now apprehend to be near. And though I have, by his grace, loved him in my youth, and feared him in my age, and laboured to have a conscience void of offence, towards him, and towards all men; yet,—if thou, Lord! shouldst be extreme to mark what we have done amiss, who can abide it? And, therefore, where I have failed, Lord, show mercy to me; for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgive ness of my unrighteousness, through His merits who died to purchase pardon for penitent sinners. And since I owe thee a death, Lord, let it not be terrible, and then take thine own time; I submit to it. Let not mine, O Lord, but thy will be done!-God hath heard my daily petitions; for I am at peace with all men, and he is at peace with me. From such blessed assurance, I feel that inward joy which the world can neither give, nor take from me. My conscience bears me this witness; and this witness makes the thoughts of death joy ful. I could wish to live, to do the church more service: but I cannot hope it; for my days are passed, as a shadow that returns not."-More he would have spoken, but his spirits failed him; and, after a short

conflict between nature and death, a quiet sigh put a period to his last breath.

Doctor Smith, when the hour of his departure hence shall arrive, will copy the example of the believer, or of the infidel, as he pleases. I must freely own, I have no opinion of that reader's head, or heart, who will not exclaim, as I find myself obliged to do: "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!"

I am, sir,

Your sincere well-wisher, &c.

LETTER II.

From a young lady under great affliction*, to Dr.

My dear sir,

Horne.

November 6.

With a heart almost broken with grief, I am going, I fear, to trouble you by pouring it forth. I have lost my father, my best friend, and every thing that was most valuable to me in the world! Perhaps, ere this, the melancholy tidings have reached your ears.

On Saturday morning last, he yielded his soul into the hands of his Maker. O, sir! paint to your imagination the wo and distraction that entered his house, in the moment of his dissolution! Had you heard the piercing cries that were uttered,-But what do I say? God forbid that your tender, your most affectionate heart, should have been a witness of the scene!

The writer of this letter was an elegant and accomplished young lady of the first distinction in Ireland who had not completed her seventeenth year at the time of her father's death.